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#like theoretically i should focus on other things
ampresandian · 3 months
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I hope everyone else watched the show and then immediately started rereading the books. Personally it took me like a week to get through tlt and som and I'm trying to resist starting ttc just yet bc I have other things I should probably be doing
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perenlop · 1 year
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should probably wait til i actually start and finish this last special, but for a spinoff called “mega evolution specials” there sure isnt a whole lot of mega evolution
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doumadono · 5 months
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A/N: this small thing drew inspiration from a recent conversation I had with my wonderful @indignant-alpaca, delving into the common struggles faced by students across various disciplines. Despite our diverse fields of study, we all encounter similar challenges sooner or later. Drawing from my own experiences, I decided to craft a variation focused on enhancing the learning process, using one of my favorite characters, Bakugo, as a source of inspiration 💣
MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST
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In class
Be actively involved in class discussions and activities. Katsuki would assertively participate, ensuring he grasps concepts firsthand.
Treat each class as a competition to stay engaged. Challenge yourself to excel, just like Bakugo's competitive spirit drives him to be the best hero.
Don't hesitate to ask questions when you're unclear. Katsuki would demand clarity, and you should too! It's a proactive approach to understanding the material.
Observe and analyze the teacher's explanations and demonstrations. Katsuki assesses his opponents' moves; similarly, analyze the "moves" in your lessons for a deeper understanding.
Take dynamic and concise notes. Katsuki strategizes in the heat of battle, and your notes should capture essential information for later review.
Studying
Approach your study sessions with intensity and focus. Katsuki's training is high-intensity, and your studies should match that energy.
Divide your study time into focused blocks for specific subjects. Master each "arc" before moving on to the next, just like Katsuki hones specific skills.
Work on problem-solving exercises regularly. Katsuki tackles various challenges, and you should too. Practical application reinforces theoretical knowledge.
Utilize interactive study methods. Katsuki learns by doing, and hands-on activities or simulations can enhance your understanding of complex topics.
Plan your study sessions strategically, focusing on high-priority subjects during peak concentration times. This approach mirrors Katsuki's tactical approach to hero battles.
Channel your inner hero by immersing yourself completely in the subject matter, just as Katsuki immerses himself in his battles.
Break down complex topics into smaller components for in-depth understanding, similar to how Katsuki analyzes quirks of his opponents to identify their weaknesses.
Learning attitude
Cultivate a hero's mindset. Set ambitious goals and view your studies as a heroic journey toward self-improvement.
Develop resilience in the face of challenges. Katsuki faces setbacks but emerges stronger. Treat academic difficulties as opportunities for growth.
Believe in your capabilities. Katsuki exudes confidence, and a strong belief in your abilities can positively impact your academic performance.
Be flexible in your approach to learning. Katsuki adapts his fighting style, and similarly, adapt your study techniques to different subjects or challenges.
Regularly reflect on your progress. Katsuki analyzes his battles for improvement; evaluate your academic journey to identify areas for growth.
Learning, Bakugo-style, means embracing the fact that doubters will always exist, no matter your achievements. Instead of seeking external validation, channel that energy into mastering your skills and gaining knowledge for your own growth. The focus should be on personal improvement and the satisfaction that comes from overcoming challenges, rather than proving yourself to others.
Periodically review past material to reinforce your knowledge. Katsuki often reflects on his battles to improve his combat strategy. Apply this concept to your studies for a solid foundation.
Test yourself regularly to identify weak points. Katsuki constantly challenges himself in battles to enhance his abilities. Use quizzes to gauge your progress and strengthen areas where you struggle.
Develop mental resilience to overcome setbacks. Katsuki faces defeats but bounces back stronger. Treat failures as stepping stones, learning from them to improve and move forward.
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angelltheninth · 3 months
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Too Dumb for Your Own Good
Pairing: Gusion x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, rough sex, study date, dumbification, feelings avoidance, angry sex, slight breeding kink
Word count: 1.2k
A/N: I'm not the smartest person around either.
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You had Gusion over at your place again, for the third time this week because you were having trouble memorizing the necessary materials for your next collage exam. The subject itself wasn't that hard to understand, it was more the fact that Gusion insisted on helping you and you couldn't focus on anything but the handsome, glasses wearing devil in your presence.
Or the fact that you were just masturbating in the very chair he was sitting in. That part was especially distracting. He didn't seem to notice you being a flustered mess around him, he was too focused on trying to help you.
He wasn't a good man by any stretch of the imagination but he was almost all too happy to help with this problem. Puzzles and tests were some of his favorite things in the world, and a collage student had plenty of those to go around. That was why began visiting you in the first place, that's how your relationship began.
"You aren't listening to a word I'm saying." He grabbed your chin with his fingers and forced you to look at him. His glasses slid down his nose a bit, those deep, dark eyes staring into your soul, "Are you only keeping me here for personal entertainment?"
"You're here of your own accord." Making it seem like this was your fault, really he had some nerve. "You could always leave if you don't like it."
Gusion scoffed at your suggestion, "And risk you flunking and me losing my source of entertainment? Not very likely. Don't dance around this, tell me what it is that's distracting you so much." So he didn't know after all. You knew he didn't know because he wasn't the type to keep those kinds of things close to his chest.
Should you be honest? Or lie to him? He said it himself, being here if fun for him. So theoretically a confession shouldn't ruin it. Right?
"I think about you, Gusion. A lot. It's been more and more lately and I think I'm starting to like you as a lot more then a friend." The confession was out in the open now. The ball was in his court.
Gusion's eye widened for a brief moment before he got up. Oh. Maybe you were wrong, maybe he didn't need to be here as much as you thought. You felt tears coming on, and a second later his hands on your shoulders and his rough lips pressing against yours.
"How foolish." He scowled, "Something as stupid as lust keeping you from achieving your goals. You humans are so weak. So easily taken over the by most basic, animalistic needs that it's embarrassing."
You were still too dumbstruck by the kiss to be insulted by what you were sure were both insults and his real feelings.
"You're doing it even now. Fine. If you can't focus without my cock in you then…" He pushed himself on top of you and unbuckled his belt with one hand, the other taking his glasses off and placing them on the chair he was just sitting on. "If I fuck you, will you study?"
"I… yes?" You couldn't promise anything.
"Can't even give me a good answer to that. Pathetic whore." His angry face was a huge turn on, the way he looked at you like you were beneath him, unworthy of him being here, helping you. But deep down he must have cared. Otherwise he wouldn't go out of his way to do this for you. Gusion, pulled your legs apart and pushed your panties to the side, his thumb pushing into your pussy. "You must have been touching yourself before this if you're already this wet. No wonder you couldn't focus, your mind must be swimming with oxytocin. I'll fuck you back into reality."
You gulped as you watch him pull his hard cock out of his boxers. Ah, so he wore the kinds that had the little hole. Of course he was the practical type.
"You're gonna fuck my brains out smart boy?" You pressed your legs around his hips and your hands into his short hair. "Or maybe you're gonna come inside me so hard I become smarter. You never know what could happen."
"If I were to come inside you then you would become pregnant. It's the most basic biology. Did you miss those lessons as well? Should have guessed a woman like you wouldn't bother, you just want a dick don't you? My dick to be more precise." The corner of his lips turned upwards for a second as he suck his length into you. "Maybe you didn't pay attention, but you sure do know how to squeeze around a cock. Like a good slut should."
"And you… seem like much more then a nerd." You moaned as he began to pick up the pace, your legs crossing over his back but not hard, you still wanted him to thrust in and out like he did. Every stroke stimulated your pussy walls, stretching, filling, pushing them apart, making room for his throbbing cock.
Gusion didn't take well to being called a nerd. His hands slammed against the floor, by your head, making you flinch. He might look and act like a nerd, but he was a devil. Evident by those two little horns on top of his head. You pulled his collar to the side and traced your fingers across the tattoo on his neck, every number, every letter, making him shiver.
He didn't like that either. He didn't like being weaker then you.
"Now you're being clever? Sneaky." He took on the challenge of fucking your brains out seriously this time. You struggled to find a comeback as his cock repeatedly rammed against the deepest parts of your pussy, making your eyes roll back a little more every time. "There you go. Now you look like you're supposed to. A dumb, fucking cockslut. Don't bother trying to be anything else right now, I'll take care of everything. Mine."
"Yours. Gusion. Please." His horns elongated when you started milking him with your cunt. You wanted him to do it. To make you his. Mark you with his cum. You could be his toy if he wanted it. "Yours." You could only repeat his words at this point.
"Yes. All mine to fuck and fill." He was never possessive before, he never let his calm and collected persona slip away from him. "You'll be my pretty cumwhore from now on. Just need to prove to me that you're capable of it." You knew how, you needed to let him dump a whole hot load of seed into you, it was the only way to prove yourself to be good enough for him. "Take it, fucking take my cum, I know you can, you can do that much for me at least!"
It didn't matter if you could or couldn't. You simply would.
You screamed his name as your vision began to go blurry, your inner walls squelching, clamping down on his cock, draining his cock. "So hot. So much. Full. My pussy is…"
"Overflowing. Yes. Yes, yes, yes, yes!" You may not be the smartest but you were smart enough to know that the way Gusion was looking at you as he pumped you full of cum wasn't that of an emotionless tutor. It was the look of your soon-to-be-lover. He surely knew it too, he was too smart to be oblivious to his own feelings.
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yuri-is-online · 2 months
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Hi I love your soulmate au, consider Ace or Deuce as soulmate but not touching each other until much later.
rules for au/prev posts can be found on my masterlist
So I could not quite tell if you meant ace x deuce or aceyuu/deuceyuu but since I am a Yuu focused blog (and you said "or... but not untill later") I am going to focus on x yuu.
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I think the first potential time for them to touch Yuu is after beating the phantom at the end of the dwarf's mine. They're cheering, you're cheering, there's a half second where they scoop up Grim and swing him around and half reach for you but... hesitate. It's like everything stops for a moment before he shakes himself out of it. You're just Yuu, some magicless human he literally met today, why's he feeling so... strange about it???
I could see Ace knowing about soulbonds. His best subject is magic analysis/theory, he's far from unaware of theoretical concepts. But he's also Ace. The bratty kid who hates being seen as vulnerable, who thinks romantic things are uncool, whose way more comfortable being someone's friend than he is their boyfriend. He doesn't want a destined mate, he wants someone he can laugh with and likes being around... and he sort of hates how much you fit that description. So! Only solution he can think of is trying to bait you into making physical contact first, that way if anyone makes a big deal about this all consuming need to be close to each other it's you and not him.
Even though he's the one who proposes sharing a bed. It would have been your fault if you said yes! He's unprepared for what it feels like to get his wish, after Vil curses him to spend the night on the floor with Deuce and Grim he expects you to just abandon him to your room... but you creep back with blankets and pillows for your friends and hesitate when you go to give them to him. Slowly, so gently it makes a mockery of the searing undeniable realization that tears through him as you lay yourself next to him and lay your hand on his shoulder and rest.
While he lies there awake cursing Vil (he refuses to blame himself) for denying him the ability to hold onto you like he should.
~~~~
Deuce is different, I don't think he would be aware of soulbonds nor does he seem to believe in soulmates. I don't think he's thought much of romance at all really, so he doesn't fully understand what he's experiencing or why he's so nervous to touch you. He wants to though. Badly. It's all he can think about sometimes, he's never had a friendship this close or intimate. He really treasures you and this closeness, he doesn't want to break it. While Deuce might not know what is driving this desire, he knows that if he touches you he will understand. And that scares him, what if he breaks you with touch? What if nothing good can come from this connection, what if he is unable to let you go? He really wants you to be able to see your home again... but the thought of losing you leaves him strangely listless. Like you would be taking a part of him with you...
I don't think he ever finds the correct word for it. Maybe sometime way in the future Malleus or a professor will make him aware, but somewhere in a dream he finds it; the understanding of just what this bond means. Physically, he is unconscious in a hospital bed after failing to dodge the shards of Ramshackle Dorm's ceiling, but mentally he is wrapped in the warm, heavy sensation of his love for you. When he wakes and you aren't there he almost tears himself in half looking, and when you come back he holds you so tightly you can feel the tension shaking through his body. The only thing that soothes him is your gentle touch on his back, rubbing soothing circles into his soul as he breathes the bond between you in.
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pendarling · 3 months
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Do You Like Me?
Villain's attention shifted when they realized Hero was blushing. It was a soft stain of pink showering on their face despite the life-threatening circumstances they were in.
"Are you… seriously flustered right now?" They tightened their grip on the weapon as they stood in front of an abandoned warehouse. Hero had been knocked to the ground fairly easily tonight, and now Villain stood hovering above them, pointing the blade at their throat. They'd been determined to kill one of their longest adversaries, and even now, they still couldn't entirely figure them out.
This doesn't usually happen with all of Villain's other enemies, and something always told them that Hero, in particular, should be treated a little differently.
"W-what?" Hero's eyes widened, and they turned their gaze away.
They smirked slightly and pulled the blade away from Hero, "You really are enjoying this aren't you?" They chuckled as Hero stumbled on their words to find a counter-argument. "You a freak?" They leaned in and pulled their chin toward them. Hero's face lit on fire at the unexpected guess.
"Get off me!" They blushed feverously and batted away at their hand, but Villain hadn't budged at all; their eyes kept calm at the sudden nervousness of their enemy. 
"Hahaha, you seriously like me? I thought you just had a strong vendetta."
"I'm not interested in you, okay!?" 
Villain's hand combed through their hair until Hero's focus was back on them. "Oh? But you were blushing."
"I panicked!" A long silence came across them, and Hero lay silently.
"Hmmm..." Villain shrugged and stood away from them again to let Hero rise from the ground. They could tell they'd gotten on Hero's mind and decided to entertain it. "It's a shame, actually; I kinda thought it could work... theoretically speaking, of course, since..."
Hero dashed their eyes back at them. "I don't know what you're trying to do, but it's not gonna work."
But it already did, and without them knowing too.
"You really don't think of me in any way?" They leaned in closer again, their teeth bearing a predatory-like reminder of their positions, but the sudden closeness only made Hero's cheeks darken in excitement.
Their nemesis refrained from speaking, too stunned to fight but too embarrassed to clue them in further. Their aloof expression was rather unconvincing. 
Villain circled their frame with an ominous air surrounding them, a soft breeze passing behind them sent shivers across Hero's body. "My, my... I never knew I'd see the day you'd get so riled up because of me." Villain sounded confident in their words as their hand slightly traced down their back as they worked their way into Hero's vision once more.
"You're awfully cocky..." They mumbled, still frightened at the concept of harbouring any feelings for what was supposed to be their greatest opponent. 
"Am I?"
Hero felt their heart hammering in their chest when Villain's eyes lingered on their lips unexpectedly. They instinctively licked them in response, feeling an unfamiliar submissive nature surface just by being so near to Villain. "You are."
"Are you still scared of me, little hero?" They tilted their head in a taunting manner and observed their reaction at being called upon so playfully.
It took all their strength to shake their head without appearing intimidated, but the power dynamic had already attached itself to their heart. Whatever Villain was doing had left them nervous, unlike any others before. It was a type of fear that stopped them from pursuing dangerous territory before they went and got hurt. This was Villain, after all; they were capable of much greater things than just wasting time with them.
It could all be a small game, toying with Hero's emotions before they took what they hid so well.
"Good." They murmured against their ear, and Hero stopped themselves from flinching; they were so caught up in their thoughts that they hadn't processed Villain's movements. "Because I have much greater things I plan to do with you, love."
~~~ MASTERLIST
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vasito-de-leche · 4 months
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I love how you write, your interpretations of characters are my favorite. If you're okay with it, may I ask for romantic headcanons of Horropedia (Reverse 1999) x Reader? I would love to know what he is like when he's developing a crush, how he confronts his feelings when he realized them, what he's like when in a romantic relationship, etc. Thank you very much!
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;R1999 HORROPEDIA - Relationship Headcanons
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Compilation of headcanons about Horropedia in a romantic relationship.
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awe! i'm glad you like my stuff! and thank you for the lovely words and request, cause i've been itching to write for horropedia <3
i got a liiiiittle carried away with this one, hope that's alright!
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Horropedia as a character is fascinating because at a surface level he's a mess and a walking stereotype - a "nerdy nerd" with a very specific hyperfixation on the horror genre, the tall guy with glasses who explains the plot and does his own thing regardless of how others view him, the first one to die in a movie solely because he's perceived as cringe etc, etc.
And yet, his medium is "logic" - he, better than anyone, understands the nonsensical laws that make up the concept of horror, he sees the patterns and the reason why some things are done this way instead of that way. Through logic, pattern recognition and analysis, Horropedia can pretty much understand anything and work his way around any problem, no matter how unorthodox his solutions may be.
In a sense, I'd compare Horropedia to Pavia. Both are characters who are subject to the stereotypes and images others assign to them - but whereas Pavia both fights and plays into all of these roles, Horropedia just brushes it off and continues doing his own thing, being genuine and unapologetically himself.
When it comes to romance, it's easy to assume Horropedia has no interest in it - they're two different genres that don't go together most of the time. It's also easy to assume that he would be a troublesome partner, due to the laser focus attention he gives to his interests. And the latter is partially true: his lackluster love life is entirely because romance hasn't entered his radar, at least not enough to pull his attention away from his one true love.
But I think this is where the aspect of "logic" comes into play. All Horropedia needs is that spark, to find something to truly become invested in when it comes to romance - once he finds it, he'll dedicate the same amount of attention to detail and care as the horror movies he loves so much.
On the subject of Horropedia developing a crush.
Similar to Click, Horropedia would need some time to start noticing the signs of a crush - the difference is that Horropedia is a little quicker when it comes to realizing he's fallen for someone. His forte is horror movies, but he still knows a thing or two when it comes to other genres.
When he cannot rationalize his behaviour around you in a way that makes sense to his current fixation or situation, that's when he knows. And given how straightforward (to the point of bordering on obliviously rude) Horropedia can be, I'd say he'd also be the type to address this crush right away. Now that there's this brand new thing in his life, he'd like to understand it better - to dissect and study the way romance is potrayed, explore how it feels and just analyze it to hell and back. Basically, he wants to know the rules, to figure out how to best proceed.
Of course, he wouldn't dream of confronting you directly, only an amateur would do such a thing. Instead, he asks his friends and pretty much anyone within his general vicinity. He wants to understand romance from every angle, to hear about it from all sorts of people until he feels like he knows enough to start forming his own opinions.
His questions are all theoretical situations that begin rather innocent, innocuous. What does the hero of a romcom do to get the romantic interest? Does it follow a three act structure? And should the third act climax start with a confession or the breakup?
Overtime, they become a little more specific. To the point where his closest friends might suspect something is up, until Horropedia finds himself asking about your interests so that he can figure out the perfect gift for you. Just in case. He finds himself watching romcoms and making extensive research and charts and essays into the genres.
The funniest thing to me is that Horropedia would be extremely casual about this whole ordeal, this crush makes him extremely intrigued in the concept of romance (an oddity for someone so themed around horror), he finds himself staring at you from across the room (this is the third time he's walked into a door because of it) and so on and so forth. But he's so chill about it.
When confronted about his crush - should Blonney or anyone else decide to tease him a little by prodding - Horropedia has no problem blurting out that he has, indeed, fallen for someone. But he'll take your name to the grave, not out of shame or embarrassment but because "he doesn't want to spoil the plot, as obvious as it might be".
On the subject of Horropedia confronting his feelings and some more insight into his mentality.
I'd say there is this small possibility of Horropedia feeling disheartened if he begins to neglect his real passion for the sake of his feelings - it's that sort of guilt and shock one gets when they realize they've forgotten their wallet the moment they're meant to pay for dinner, or when they realize they've forgotten to turn off the oven.
Horror is a huge part of his life and who he is as a person - literally look at the name he's chosen for himself - and given how heavily coded he is to be neurodivergent, I can understand this aspect of him. The feeling like one must choose between two things they enjoy, and all the other things that might come with hyperfixation, both positive and negative.
This is the biggest obstacle for Horropedia when it comes to finally taking the first steps into forming a relationship with you or confessing - the irrational thought that by doing so, he's prioritizing you and romance over horror, something that he holds very dear. One of his stories gives some insight about Horropedia's relationship with horror and how it's something he shared with (and possibly was started by) his grandfather.
I feel like he'll grow a little distant, as a way to set some boundaries for himself or draw a line between his identity and his feelings for you, separate the two so that he doesn't have to feel guilty for giving one more attention than the other. Maybe he simply stops bringing up films around you, because "you're probably not that interested anyway". Masking, he's masking.
But overall, I can see Horropedia being capable enough to get out of this mindset by himself - or with a little help from someone else. Either way, he simply loops back to realizing the obvious: you two were friends, before he realized his feelings for you. You were fine with the whole Horropedia Experience. You liked him for who he was. And he liked you just as you were.
Horropedia is the one who confesses first, the one who asks you out. 100%. And it's so unnecessarily dramatic.
I DO think that Horropedia would make sure to be the one who confesses, just so he can put everything that he's learned about romance into play. And he delivers the most award worthy performance. It would be all about redirection, an unexpected reveal - his skills and animations are also all about fake outs and misleading the audience, after all.
In my head, there's this whole scene about Horropedia asking everyone to help him out confess to you, and everyone is so excited for it - but then he just asks them to fuel this slow rift that formed between you and him, to act vague, distant and mysterious should you ask Blonney or Tooth Fairy about him. Again, unorthodox and weird, but he's cooking. This is all done with the intention of forcing a confrontation between the two of you, just so he can pour his heart out right there - it's all or nothing.
Again, I want to insist that Horropedia, despite being a logical man, still makes as many aspects of his life revolve around the things that he loves and is interested in - he likes films, he likes you. And while romance is not his preferred genre, he still wants to explore all there is about it all thanks to you.
That alone should tell you how much you mean to him. Even if his methods aren't the "proper" way, you know he's putting his whole heart into this. It's all over the top, there's fake rain, etc etc. Of course, your reaction to this is up to you!
If you're mad at him for such convoluted plan, he'll sit there and allow you to scold him to your heart's content - he's used to it as one of the many troublemakers that the Foundation failed to raise as model students. If you laugh at him because of how ridiculous this guy can be sometimes, he'll laugh along, trying to get you to tell him what he could've been done better to get a third act reconciliation. And if you start crying, jump into his arms and play along then he'll be over the moon, trying every single impactful one-liner from every romcom he's watched in the past few weeks.
On the subject of Horropedia and how he acts when he's in a relationship.
Dating Horropedia is pretty easy, because you're dating your best friend. However, it is very easy to misunderstand Horropedia's way of showing affection - those who are more on the insecure side or less receptive to his subtleties may feel like there's been absolutely no shift in the dynamic, that he's treating you the same way he'd treat Tooth Fairy or Vertin.
This is far from the truth! Once Horropedia finally settles into the relationship, he grows very comfortable and allows himself to just exist around you - which isn't saying much since he doesn't mask as much around friends, but it's all about the subtle things!
I like to think Horropedia is very particular about space, as in he makes a point not to invade people's spaces if possible and he'd rather remain in his little bubble. But when it comes to you, he's very casual with physical touch. He's not as cuddly and touchy as characters like, let's say, Matilda, Jessica or Pavia, but being able to rest his head on your shoulder means a lot to him, or just have you lean on him when sitting together. This is pushed to the limit when you two pull all-nighters, binging all of your favorite movies.
He's on cloud nine when you pay attention to his ramblings and makes sure to listen when you ramble to him as well. More than often, he'll do his own little research into the topics you like, just so you have someone to properly discuss things with! Horropedia more than anyone knows what it's like to be brushed aside for being too much or too weird, to have no one listen. Despite his confidence, he has had days of feeling like he keeps on talking to a wall, so he doesn't want you to ever feel like that.
It's all about sharing interests and recommending things that you may like, keeping up with the latest events and so on and so forth, having looong discussions at night about whatever topic you two are extremely invested in.
If these discussions get a little heated and end up as arguments, expect Horropedia to insist on arguing because he's just stubborn like that - it'll take him time to realize that he might've hurt your feelings, or that he might've be hurting too, but he'll come around eventually to talk it out.
Overall, dating Horropedia would be fun because he's full of surprises and excitement, but he's also considerate in his own way.
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cameronspecial · 4 months
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Assisting In Deception (Part 2)
Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings: Mentions of Sex and Assassinations.
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 2.8K 
Summary: Rafe makes an unusual offer that Y/N takes just to prove a point to her cousin.
Masterlist
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Y/N enters Rafe’s office to see him scrolling on his phone at his desk. His coffee is left cold in its mug while his focus is on his phone. He looks in her direction at the sudden feeling of another presence in the room. She walks over to the chair in front of his desk and waits for him to put down his phone. “Yes, Ms. Y/L/N. What do you need?” he offers, giving her his full attention. She readjusts her posture with the sudden new gaze on her, “I know it’s a little early, but I was wondering if I could have March 18th off.” His eyebrows knit together in confusion. She isn’t one to request time off unless she is sick and he highly doubts she can predict being sick six months in advance. He knows she is a planner, but no one could schedule a sickness.
“Okay, may I ask why you need the day off?” 
“For my cousin’s wedding. I mean it would be great if I could have the whole six months just to look for a date, but I could do with just the day.”
“You need a date for the wedding?” 
“It’s not necessarily a need. It just would make my life a little easier to go to the wedding without being questioned by my relatives about why my romantic life is non-existent. It also doesn’t help that there are like a million parties before the actual wedding that I will be going to solo.” 
Rafe shifts his body weight forward, placing his elbow on his desk and his chin on his hand to show his interest. He feels as though fate plopped this opportunity in front of him. What are the chances that Y/N needs a boyfriend at the same time that he needs a girlfriend? “I have a proposition for you,” he states, calmy like what he is about to say is an everyday offer. Y/N’s head tilts, “What would that be?” He looks into her eyes and it feels as though he is about to reveal a deep dark secret. “I want you to be my girlfriend.” She sits there in shock for a solid minute; her mouth hangs open, saying nothing. Rafe worries, waving his hand in front of her face, “Ms. Y/L/N?” “I’m not sure what to say about that,” she admits with bewilderment all over her face. Rafe nods, “I should clarify. I would like for you to be my fake girlfriend. I would go to all of your family events and in exchange, you would let me use you to show the media that I’m not everything they say I am.”
“I see. So you want to use me.”
“Well, yes. But I shouldn’t have used that word. We would just make media appearances together and that’s it.”
“Theoretically, if I were to say yes, I need more details on what you would require me to do.” 
“Exactly what I said. You could flaunt me in front of your family. I’d go to the engagement party, bridal party, the wedding and any other thing related to the wedding. For me, you would just need to make one or two event appearances, be seen with me in public a few times and maybe one interview. That’s it. If you agree, we could write this all down in a contract.”
“What about the fact that you are my boss? Don’t you think people will say things about that?” 
“They probably will, but everyone will have criticism of who I say I’m dating anyway. I have full confidence that you can charm the public.” 
Y/N takes a second to ponder what he is saying. She weighs the pros and cons of his statement and in her mind, the cons come out on top. “I’m sorry, Mr. Cameron. But I don’t think I’m comfortable with the idea of being in the spotlight. Thank you for offering though.” She gets up from the chair and makes her way back outside.
——
It’s been a few hours since Y/N has been in his office and she can’t stop thinking about what he said. She turned down the offer because she wasn’t sure it was a smart idea with her crush on him. The relationship would be fake, but the possibility of her catching true feelings for him could be a risk. It would be too painful if that happened and then they had to stop dating. She would rather take the annoyance of being single than the pain of heartbreak. She still can’t believe how calm and collected he was throughout the whole conversation. He acted like he was asking her what she wanted for dinner, not like he was asking her to lie to the world about their relationship. The ringing of her phone snaps her out of her thoughts. 
She takes it out of her pocket to answer it. “Hey Y/N, how are you? Did you get Francine’s wedding invite?” Natalie asks through the phone. Y/N shakes her head at her cousin’s inability to hide what she really wants to know. Natalie has only ever had one interest in life and that is one-upping her cousin. “I did, Nat. Are you going?” she plays into her cousin’s game. 
“Of course, I’m going. I love Francine, so I would totally want to go to her wedding. Plus, Richard can take the day off. I’m thinking of getting us matching hats for the wedding. Well, a fascinator for me and a top hat for him.” 
“That sounds like a great idea. I’m glad that you are happy with Richard.”
“So… Are you going to be going to the wedding solo again?”
The hint of pity and patronizing in her tone irritates Y/N to no end. Y/N responds without another thought, “Actually, I do have a date. Not that it is your business really. Anyway, I have to go. My boss is calling me.” She hangs up the phone and sighs at what she has to do. She gets up from her desk, knocking on Rafe’s door. She enters at his approval and sits herself in the same chair again. “I accept,” she informs. “But I want a say as to what goes into the contract.” 
“I can work with that.” 
Rafe holds his hand out for her to shake. As she shakes it, worry floods through her. She realizes that this isn’t just going to be something her family is going to see, but the whole world is going to know about their relationship. What will they say when they learn she isn’t the heiress of some big company? What will they think if they learn she is his assistant? She buries her stress deep inside and promises to not let it out until this whole thing is over. 
——
The staff lounge is empty except for Topper sipping his tea whilst on his phone. He may be the head of legal at Cameron Development, but he always makes sure to get to know everyone in the company, no matter the rank of their job title. “Ahh, well if it isn’t the new Mrs. Cameron,” he jokes when he notices her at the door. She smiles at him and walks to the Nespresso machine, “That is not a new nickname that you are calling me. So I see you got the contract.” Topper laughs at the seriousness of her voice at what he called her. “That I did. I have to say I was not expecting to see a contract about your relationship with Rafe when I woke up this morning.”
“Me either. All I wanted was someone to go to my cousin’s wedding with me. And now, I am going to be paraded around his world.”
“Well, you could’ve just asked me. I’m always available to take you out.”
“Thanks but the only taking out I’m considering right now is the one where you would need a gun. All jokes aside, I think it’s going to be fine. Rafe is a good boss.”
“He is and if he ever gets on your nerves too much, you can always come to me.” 
“I’ll definitely keep that in mind.” 
——
Rafe looks around the subway station horrified about the state of the place. His expensive dark blue polo shirt and tan dress pants are a stark contrast to the hot and rat-infested platform. Y/N giggles at the look on his face, “It’s like you’ve never been on  the subway before.” “I haven’t,” he admits, looking at her with raised eyebrows. Her head moves from side to side and she hesitantly takes his hand to guide him onto the arriving subway.
One of the stipulations of the contract is that Y/N gets to take them on their first “outing” as a couple. She wanted to go out with him outside of work to get to know him more than the very little he’s allowed anyone he works with to get to know him; the exception being Topper and Kelce, who grew up with him and were given jobs when he took over the company. The other rule she stipulated is that she wants a soft launch of the relationship until it is necessary for her to be revealed as the mystery girl. At least, this way she can keep her privacy as long as she can. She had told Rafe to dress casually, but she really shouldn’t have been surprised that he still arrived looking like a million dollars. 
He keeps his sunglasses on as he pauses to sit down beside her on the subway seat. He takes a chance to glance at the costumed cookie monster and looks back at her. “Do you have to keep your sunglasses on? We are on the subway,” she questions, leaning in to talk to him. His eyes dart to the muppet beside him, “Yes, because me wearing sunglasses indoors is the strangest thing here. Why couldn’t we have taken my car?” She shoots him a playful glare. “Your fancy dancy car would bring too much attention to us and that is the last thing I want right now,” she explains, checking the subway screen to see how many stops until they get off. “Where are we going anyways?” he inquires, following her gaze. 
“It’s a surprise.” 
——
The pair exit the station and the sight before him is one he is familiar with. He isn’t sure what “regular” people restaurant is around Central Park, but he lets her steer them in the right direction. He looks down at their joint hand and he can’t help but notice how they interlace together perfectly. He shakes himself out of his observation and looks up to see the reason why she stopped. In front of him is a street cart that appears to be selling hot dogs. He looks over at her with a questioning look, “You want me to eat food that has come from a cart?” 
“Oh, come on. It’s not that bad. And this place has a permit. It’s fine.”
“You can eat that stuff, but I’m not risking it.”
“Stop being so snooty. Eating is part of a date. So you are going to go sit on that bench and eat whatever I get you. If you are a good boy, then maybe I’ll get you a Spider-Man or Spongebob ice cream. Dealers choice.” 
He stares at her in surprise that she talked to him in such an ordering manner. She always speaks her mind, but she normally does it in a less commanding way. He listens to what she says and goes to sit on a bench looking over the lake. After a few minutes, she comes back with two hot dogs and water bottles. She hands him one of each, “I have ketchup and mustard packets if you want. I didn’t get you a New York hot dog because I thought I would ease you into street food culture.” He takes the packets with thanks and adds the condiments to his meal. They eat in silence until she breaks the silence. “So you grew up in the Outer Banks. What’s that like?” He looks over at her, finishing chewing before answering, “Yeah. It was quiet.” 
“Wow, this has been a great conversation. Thank you for participating in it!”
“I don’t know what you expect, Ms. Y/L/N. I’ve never been much of a talker.” 
“First, when we are outside of the office, you can call me Y/N. Second, what I expect from you is to stop being Mr. Cameron, my boss, and to be Rafe, my boyfriend. If people are going to actually believe we are dating, then you have to separate those two.” 
“Okay, fine. I see your point. Ask me another question.” 
She grins at his offer and takes a second to think about it, “You are never playful or smile, so why do you tease me sometimes? It’s the least serious I’ve ever seen you.” 
“You’re the only one who isn’t afraid of me. Plus, it amuses me how flustered you get.”
Y/N is rendered speechless and she uses one hand to put her hair that is framing her face on both sides of her face behind her ear. The conversation flows in small talk while they finish their hot dogs. She takes their garbage and stands up, “You’ve been good. I guess I can get you an ice cream. Do you want Spider-Man or Spongebob?”
“Are those the only two options? What about the other flavours?” 
“Yes. Now, choose.” 
“Spongebob.”
She nods and heads back over to the stand. He watches as she pays for the sweet treats and returns to him. Rafe didn’t want her to pay for everything on the date, but she had put it as a requirement in the contract. He takes the package from her, opening it as soon as it makes contact with his hand. The disappointment on his face is evident on his face and she laughs. “This does not look like the picture,” his lips turn in a microscopic pout. Her head moves from side to side, “Things rarely do, Boss.” 
——
Y/N returns home from the date a little after five to find Juni sitting on the couch, watching TV.  “Where have you been? You didn’t tell me you were going out, Sweetie,” Juni interrogates, getting up from the couch to be closer to Y/N. She chuckles at her best friend worrying like her mother. She gives her a hug, “Did you forget that I told you about my fake date with Rafe today?” “Oh, yeah. I did. Sorry, I’ve been so busy with work that I forgot. How was your date with the Big C?”  she apologizes, sitting herself down at the kitchen island. 
“One. That cannot be your new nickname for him. Two. It was good. He opened up to me a little bit, so we are making progress. It was adorable, he was so disgruntled that the Spongebob ice cream wasn’t like the picture. Also, apparently, he teases me because he likes to see me flustered.” 
The loving look in Y/N’s eyes causes Juni to frown, “Just be careful with him. I don’t want you getting hurt in this whole fake dating thing, Sweetie. I’ve never seen these things end well.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t fall for him. He’s my boss and nothing more.” 
Alexander enters the apartment with no knock and an annoyed look on his face. “Why must people be so crude? Why does no one want a serious relationship anymore?” he complains, settling himself on the couch. The girls turn with concerned looks on their faces. “Another bad date?” Y/N poses, getting up from her stool to sit beside him. “Yes, this guy literally told me all he wants is a fuck buddy. And when I asked him why he still tried to match with me even though my profile said I wanted a relationship, he said that he just thought I was lying and would agree to just fucking when I saw his face,” he answers and lets himself be embraced by Y/N. Juni gets up to rub his back in reassurance, “Ugh, I hate men that are so cocky like that. I’m sorry the date went bad. He doesn’t realize what a great guy he is missing out on.” 
Heat rushes to his cheeks and he scratches the back of his neck. They look into each other's eyes. Anyone but them can see the obvious attraction between the two. Y/N looks between the pair with a slight bit of jealousy. She wishes that she could have chemistry like that with someone, but that would require believing in love first.
Taglist: @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @aprilrudgate @loving-and-dreaming @thepatriarchykeychain @maybankslover @abbybarnesstuff @wh0reforbucknasty @spencereidbasis
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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 6 months
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Best Intentions - Chapter Three
Pairing: Tom Bennett (World on Fire) x f!reader Warnings: Angst. Smut. Mentions of shell shock/PTSD. Word count: ~3.9k
Summary: She deals with an unexpected visit and Lois forces her to take action. Final part. Series masterlist.
Author's note: I don't have a tag list. Please follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications. Community labels are for cops.
She is inconsolable when she gets home, having walked the short distance from the wall back to her house, vision blurred with tears.
Her mum rises from the kitchen table, rushing to her and pulling her into a tight hug the moment she sees the state she’s in.
“Oh, love,” she coos, stroking her hair, “he’s a fool to have upset you like that.”
“He’s not a fool, Mum,” she sobs, snotty nosed and shaking, into the wool of her cardigan, “I couldn’t say yes, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love him.”
She loves Tom. She’s in love with Tom.
Deep down, she knows she’s probably felt that way all along, yet the admission shocks her all the same.
She feels numb for the rest of the evening, though grateful for the soothing reassurance of her mum. If nothing else, her endless cups of tea give her something warm to wrap her hands around, something to focus on besides how hurt Tom had looked when she’d said no to him.
It was the right thing to do, she knows this, they aren’t ready for such an enormous commitment, but she can’t help but wonder if making the right choice was meant to make it feel like her heart was being torn in two.
Puffy eyed and miserable when she awakens the next day, her mum offers to give her the day off from the shop. Wearily, she shakes her head, eager to carry on as normal.
“If I stop at home, I’ll drive myself mad thinking about it all. I just wanna get on.”
Her mum gives her hand a reassuring squeeze and a “whatever you think is best, love”.
Theoretically, the shop should take her mind off things, yet there are reminders of Tom in everything. As she’s restocking the sweet jars, her heart lurches in her chest when she gets to the sherbet straws, thinking about how their fingers would brush against each other when they;d share a bag. They were Tom’s favourites. 
When a man comes in to buy a cigarette, she rolls it around in her fingers after taking it from the shelf. It’s Tom’s brand. She’d always hated the way the smell of the smoke would stick to his hair and clothes. Now, the thought that she may never breathe in the stale scent of tobacco on his jacket when he pulls her in for a hug makes her eyes well up with tears, and she has to sniffle them away before turning back to the till to take payment.
Then there is the more obvious reminder living upstairs; Lois. As if summoned by the thought of her, she appears from the back, Vera nestled against her hip.
“You and Tom left in a hurry on Saturday, thought you’d both stick around after for a drink,” she says, bouncing the toddler gently in her arms.
“Oh,” she says, feeling anxiety gnaw at her insides, as her skin heats up with a mixture of shame and embarrassment, not wanting to reveal to Lois what’s happened between her and Tom. It still feels too raw to talk about. “Yeah, sorry, wasn’t feeling well. You and Connie sounded great though!”
She offers a smile that she hopes looks sincere and Lois looks at her with sympathy in her big, blue eyes.
“You mentioned the other day you were feeling a bit tired, everything okay?”
She swallows, nodding her head, just wanting the conversation to be over.
Her and Tom have the same eyes.
It’s excruciating to look at her. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine now. Run ragged by the shop, you know how it is.”
Lois readjusts Vera against her hip, running a hand over her soft curls, before looking back up. “Well, if you find time to get away tomorrow, I’ve asked Tom to pop round on his dinner break. Been ages since I’ve caught up with him, would be nice to see you too, even if you can only manage time for a cuppa.”
She feels her throat run dry at this. If Lois has invited Tom round then that means he’ll have to come to the shop. She’ll have to see him. She isn’t ready.
She can feel a void opening in the pit of her stomach, dread prickling her skin. “Maybe..” she offers quietly, and is grateful that at that moment Vera starts to fuss, drawing Lois’ attention away from her.
“Better get this one back upstairs anyway,” Lois says, distractedly, “maybe see you tomorrow!”
She breathes a sigh of relief when she disappears into the back and up the stairs again, resting her elbows on the counter and putting her head in her hands.
Tom is going to be at the shop tomorrow. What on earth will I say to him?
Nerves flutter in her belly all morning the next day, her heart racing so fast she is sure that every customer she serves must be able to hear it. More than once her hands fumble when giving someone their change, sending coins spilling across the counter.
If it wouldn’t earn her a stern telling off from her mum, she’d close up for the day and go home, so that she wouldn’t have to see Tom when he inevitably arrives.
She has a hundred different things she wants to say to him; I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m so bloody angry with you. I love you.
None of them seem appropriate.
It’s precisely noon when the bell above the shop door tinkles and she looks up from the stamps she’s sorting, met with the intense stare of Tom.
He’s on time. He’s never on time for anything. She feels her hands tremble, her breathing unsteady as she tries to organise her thoughts into something coherent. She curses herself, she’s wasted all morning deciding what to say and still has nothing.
Her hesitation is more than enough for Tom apparently, as he huffs, mouth twisting into a sneer, before striding into the back and up the stairs to the flat.
Bowing her head she feels her throat tighten, lips pulling downwards with the effort not to burst into tears. In all the years she’d known Tom, seeing him had never made her feel so rotten. She swipes angrily at her nose, inhaling a deep shaky breath before busying herself with organising what’s left of the day’s papers.
An hour later, Tom reappears in the doorway that leads towards the back, as she’s standing counting up the till drawer. Up close she can see the haunted look in his eyes, the dark bags underneath them. The night terrors are clearly as bad as ever, he doesn’t look like he’s sleeping properly. She wants nothing more than to go to him, pull him into a hug and comfort him, but can’t stand the thought of him pushing her away if she tries.
Once more she realises she’s staring at him without saying anything, he’s clearly waiting for her to make the first move, and she hasn’t. 
His eyes narrow in anger, and he breezes past her, muttering an irritated “piss off” as he goes.
The casualness of his insolence towards her turns her sorrow into anger, which she feels boil up inside her, erupting as she shouts “no, you piss off!” after him.
How dare he?! After everything, that’s all he has to say to me.
But it’s too late. The door to the shop is already closed. Tom’s gone.
Her sob catches in her throat, and before she’s able to stop it, a piteous wail leaves her, which she attempts to muffle with the palm of her hand. Hot tears roll down her cheeks, the painful twisting in her chest from Sunday returning in earnest.
“Hey, hey,” comes a gentle voice from behind her. The slender arms of Lois wrap around her, pulling her into a warm hug. “What’s all this?”
There’s no use lying to her now, not when Lois has seen her like this.
“It’s Tom,” she says, pulling away slowly, voice thick from crying, “we’ve been seeing each other.”
Lois chuckles quietly. “Well, I knew that, it’s not exactly a secret. What’s he done?”
She closes her eyes briefly, feeling shame wash over her. Would Lois be angry if she told her she’d said no to Tom’s proposal?
“He proposed to me, I said no,” she blurts, “but it’s not because I don’t love him! I still want to be with him, we’ve just never made it official, and I don’t want to rush.”
Lois goes quiet for a moment, her eyes widening in obvious shock at what she’d revealed. “Wow…Tom proposed?” Her eyebrows raise, and they stand in silence as she takes in the revelation, thinking about what to say next.
Chewing her lip, Lois nods and their eyes meet before she speaks again. “So, what did Tom say exactly?”
“Not much, he finished with me,” she says miserably.
“You told him you love him and he finished with you?!” She asks, her mouth agape.
“Well…no…I’ve never actually told him I love him…” she admits, averting her gaze, feeling her face grow hot.
“Well then maybe you should start with that?” Lois suggests.
“I can’t, Lois!” She cries, “He’s not been the same since he came home, you know he hasn’t. He needs to get help.”
“Yeah, he does,” Lois agrees, “but that’s not your job to do. It’s yours to be there for him, to let him know it’s not him you’re saying no to. He needs you, anyone can see that.”
She knows Lois is right. Tom has likely seen her rejection as a rejection of her wanting to be with him, thinking he’s too broken, when that is the furthest thing from the truth. The state he was in when he came to the shop earlier is proof of the fact that he just needs her to be there for him, but she has been too caught up in her own feelings to realise his. 
“Yeah, you’re right”, she says, wiping her eyes, “I need to speak to him. I’ll go to the garage tomorrow.”
“Or you could go tonight?” Lois suggests, “He doesn’t finish for another half hour after the shop closes, so you can catch him before he goes home.”
“Oh, Lois, I look a mess, he can’t see me like this–” she tries to protest, but is cut off.
“Yes, he can! Let him see you’re as upset by this as he is. He needs to know you care.”
She purses her lips. Lois is right. No use in putting it off. The longer she leaves it, the harder it’ll be.
Checking her face in her compact as she stands outside of the garage, she’s grateful that her tears haven’t done too much damage to her mascara. Only the faintest rim of red around her eyes suggests that she’d ever been upset.
The shutter is halfway down, suggesting that Tom is close to finishing up for the day. His feet are the only pair she sees beneath. Drawing in a steading breath, she ducks through the gap, righting herself as Tom regards her with a furrowed brow and widened eyes; an apparent mixture of surprise and anger.
“What are you doing here?” He asks sullenly.
She holds up her hands in mock surrender, attempting to keep her tone even, despite the way her voice wobbles. “Please, Tom, I’m not here to argue. I just wanna talk to you.”
“Got nothin’ to say,” he sniffs, wiping his hands on a rag and closing the bonnet of the sleek black motorcar he’s been working on.
“But I have,” she pleads, “so please just hear me out.”
She spots his jaw tick in annoyance, but he nods all the same, remaining silent, so she presses on.
“I need you to know that when I said no I wasn’t saying no to you, to us, just the proposal. I don’t think we’re ready.”
Tom rolls his eyes, throwing the rag down, sniffing before he replies. “Yeah, I get it, you wouldn’t wanna be stuck with someone that’s not right in the head.”
“Don’t say that,” she says sadly, a dull ache forming in her chest. “You’ve been through so much, Tommy, but you’ll get through it and I’ll be with you every step of the way, because I love you.”
“You what?” He asks quickly, head snapping up to look at her.
Her breath catches in her throat, her heart pounding in her chest.
Oh god. What if he doesn’t say it back? What if he tells her to go away and never speak to him again?
“I–I love you,” she stammers, feeling as though her vulnerability will swallow her whole.
“Say it again,” Tom says lowly, stepping towards her.
He’s so close she can smell the motor oil that clings to his skin. It makes the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.
“I love you,” she repeats with more confidence, gazing up at him.
In one swift movement, he grabs the back of her neck, pulling her to him and crushing his lips against hers. 
It’s not the four little words she’d expected in return, but the action expresses everything he needs to say.
I love you too.
She melts into it, kissing him back with equal fervour. His kiss is hungry, filled with desperation, yet it feels like coming home after a long journey. He tastes of tobacco and spearmint. She hadn’t realised how much she’d missed the pillowy softness of his mouth until it’s moving against her own. Absent-mindedly, her arms wrap around his shoulders, as Tom’s free hand grips her waist.
When they break for air, he presses his forehead against hers, breathing heavily.
“God, I missed you,” he whispers.
She barely has time to tell him she’s missed him too before he’s kissing her again, pulling the shutter all the way closed and maneuvering her backwards towards the car he’s been working on, yanking open the back door.
Bracing her palms against his chest, she pulls back slightly, apprehension at odds with the desire she feels. “We can’t do that here, that’s a customer’s car! What if we get caught?”
Tom shrugs. “Shutter’s down, and I’ve not fucked you for ages. Come on, no one will catch us.”
She giggles, taking in the sight of his lust-widened pupils and kiss-swollen lips. It sends a needy throb straight to her core, and she grabs him by the front of his overalls, pulling him back to her once more.
His tongue sweeps against hers, as he lays her down in the cramped confines of the back seat before climbing on top of her. His tall frame means he has to keep one knee pressed between her leg and the back of the seat, and the other on the floor.
“You sure there’s room?” She purrs playfully, brushing her lips against his neck.
“I’ll fucking make room,” he hisses, awkwardly shrugging out of his overalls, causing her to laugh.
“Something funny?” He mutters darkly, pushing his hand beneath her skirt, his fingers toying with the gusset of her knickers, before slipping inside the material.
She gasps as his digits press through the wetness of her folds, bucking against his hand. It’s been so long since she felt his touch like this that his hands upon her skin feel like a brand. “Tommy…” is all she’s able to whimper.
He smirks. “That’s what I thought,” he says cockily, his words punctuated by the wet sounds of his fingertips moving through the slick of her arousal. “This all for me?”
“Y–yeah,” she breathes out, and he withdraws his hand, making her whine.
“Don’t wanna let it go to waste,” he tells her, pushing his overalls further down, along with his briefs.
She bites her lower lip, watching him stroke the length of his erection, ruddy and shiny with arousal at its tip.
His eyebrows raise, lips parting as a look of realisation flashes across his features. “I haven’t got a sheath..”
“Oh, Tommy!” She cries out in frustration.
He frowns, his tone becoming defensive. “Well, sorry, why would I keep any here? Not like I make a habit of shagging in the garage, is it?”
She feels light headed with the intensity of her need for him. She isn’t sure she can wait for them to get back to his flat. Desire is the only thing fuelling her in this moment, alongside the words that leave her mouth. “Just pull out then.”
Tom’s eyes widen, a grin spreading across his face. “If you say so.”
He leans over her, pulling her underwear to one side, and guiding himself to her entrance. They groan in unison as he pushes forward, stretching her open on his length.
The feeling of being so intimate with him again after being apart is divine all by itself, however, being able to feel him fully without a barrier to separate them has her inner walls fluttering around him as he breaches her to the hilt.
“Jesus christ,” is all he’s able to grit out as he stills, allowing them both to adjust to the sensation.
“Please…please move,” she mewls desperately.
Tom pulls his hips back, before driving forward, the repeated motion causing the car to squeak and rock, yet it barely registers to her. Her only focus is the feeling of him inside of her, the way that every thrust brushes against a spot inside of her that makes her abdomen tighten like a coil.
“I don’t think I’m gonna last,” Tom pants above her, fogging the windows up, “you feel too bloody good.”
“Not yet,” she whispers breathlessly, the coil in her belly almost at its breaking point, “‘m so close…”
Tom groans, snaking a hand between them, fingers reaching beneath her knicker elastic to toy with her pearl in tandem with each deep thrust.
Warmth spreads through her, as she writhes beneath him, the pressure within her building until it finally gives way and she tightens around him with a wanton moan.
“Shitshitfuck–” Tom groans, withdrawing from her and spilling white hot ropes of spend across her thighs with quick, sure strokes.
He hovers over her for a few moments longer, simply looking into her eyes and stroking her hair. She’s certain that at this point right now she’s never felt more in love with him. It feels good to have him back. Her Tommy.
He helps her out of the car, careful not to stain the upholstery and gets her cleaned up. 
Finally, he breaks the silence, turning to her as they straighten up their clothes. “So what should I do with it? The ring, I mean. I can get a diamond put in, I–”
“It’s perfect, as it is,” she reassures him, cupping his face in her hands, “keep it for now. Ask me again when we’re ready.”
“Oh, I definitely will,” he responds, bumping her nose with his.
Over the next six months their relationship blossoms, with her spending more and more time at Tom’s flat. No longer “just mates”, they proudly hold hands as they walk down the street together. Shared lunch breaks are spent on their wall, passing a bag of sherbet straws back and forth.
Tom’s night terrors lessen. Over time he comes to accept that it would be good to talk to someone. It’s still a touchy subject for him, and he refuses to use the term shell shock because of its association with Douglas. Not wanting to explore anything as extreme as electric shock therapy, he opts to see a doctor who has adopted psychotherapy as a means of treatment.
With each session, he looks a little lighter, though still haunted by the memories of what he has endured in combat, the load becomes more bearable to manage, and her heart feels as though it could burst with pride for him.
It’s New Year’s Eve, as they stand on the rain-dampened pavement outside of the Ducie Arms. Tom sways unsteadily on his feet, six pints deep, as they look up at the sky, the colourful crackle of fireworks overhead heralding in a brand new year. 
He pulls her in for a sloppy kiss, and she happily reciprocates, despite the lingering taste of lager upon his lips. His eyes are glassy as he pulls the ring box from his jacket pocket, his words slurred.
“Will you–”
She shakes her head, placing her hand over his, pushing it gently back towards his pocket.
“Ask me when you’re sober.”
It feels terrible to reject him a second time, yet she knows to get engaged when they’re both not in full control of their actions would be a mistake.
Thankfully, in his drunken state he doesn’t seem to mind, simply nodding and pocketing the ring box once more.
When he wakes up the next morning, bleary eyed and complaining he has a headache, he has no memory of most of the previous evening, and she cannot help the pang of disappointment she feels.
Another six months pass, and Tom continues to improve. His night terrors happen irregularly and he has started to fill out again, not quite as bony as he was when he first returned to Longsight. He looks healthy, happy. It fills her with warmth to see him recovering.
Yet there is a constant nagging in the back of her mind. She has knocked Tom back twice now, what if he never asks again?
Vera is now walking and talking, and, needing more space, Lois moves out of the flat above the shop, having found a little terraced house with a garden for her to play in.
Her and Tom decide to take the step of occupying the space. Tom gives up his flat, and the two move in together. They spend most of their time together anyway, so it makes sense.
It’s their moving in day, and she silently curses Tom for being too tight fisted to pay a removal man to do this for them, as they carry his old sofa up the stairs.
She feels clammy with sweat by the time they place it heavily down in their empty living room. Huffing with relief, she sits down, wanting to take a breather before they carry anything else up. She wipes her brow, looking around the space with a slight smile on her face.
A fresh start for both of them. A place to call theirs. A space to create memories.
She is snapped out of her reverie by Tom calling her name.
“I’m not moving anything else until I’ve–”
She freezes, mouth agape as she turns her head and sees Tom on one knee before her, ring box open in his hand.
“Thought now felt like the right time,” he says, “so will you?”
“I’m all sweaty,” she says bashfully.
“You’ve never looked better. My wife, working hard to put all of our old shit in our flat. So how about it?” He asks, cocking his head.
Her heart flutters. He’s right, there will never be a more perfect moment than this.
“Yes,” she breathes, allowing him to slip the simple gold band onto her ring finger.
He leans in pressing his lips to hers and she smiles into it, running her fingers through his hair as he pulls away again, a mischievous glint in his eye.
“Still mates though, yeah?” He whispers.
She giggles. “Always.”
326 notes · View notes
gardenofnoah · 6 months
Text
turn me like a beast / hold you to the floor
tags: nanami kento x reader, princess!reader, violence, injuries (minor), non-graphic descriptions of hunting, medium burn, sort of enemies to lovers but mostly scared strangers to unfortunate lovers, the fall of a dynasty, character death (sorry), reincarnation, bittersweet ending. mdni.
wc: 6.5k ish
notes: for @medusashima’s collab—indulging myself (and y’all) in my take on one of my favorite stories. i hope you like it 💘 this is based on the tale of the two fossils found wrapped up in each other in an unlikely pairing (which is made even better by the fact that it is not fiction and it happened!! love is real nerd!!). there’s a really phenomenal webtoon called burrow (by saige9) that makes me cry and that y’all should read immediately. anyway, enjoy. love u
summary: the world is at its end, and an unlikely pair finds solace in each other. to love is an animal thing.
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it shocks you, how gentle a tug it takes to unravel everything that you were. only a thing between two others—before: a princess on a hill, the unraveling, and who you’ll be after.
your feet stomp clumsily over dirt and jagged rock—softened soles split open easily with each stride. but, ever your grandmother's frightened little rabbit, not even that searing pain is enough to thwart you in your descent down the hill—away from what is surely certain death. nothing but the animal need to survive pushing you forward—to get to whatever comes next.
it happened too fast—the only way a dynasty can fall to those privileged enough not to notice the slow decline of the society around them until it's too late. your family spoke of pockets of uprisings as if they were fictitious and theoretical—some grandiose, far away prediction of the old crone that haunted the village below your compound, and certainly not the men concealed by shade of trees that had been pruned by your family for centuries, salivating but patient for the perfect moment to strike.
and then they were dead. all of them but you.
a childhood of exploring the grounds of your family home proves useful in knowing without much thought which paths lead farthest from the carnage at your back, but your fright makes you uncoordinated—mechanical in your stride. the price to stop for even a second is far too high, and the hounds that howl after you in the dark serve as a constant reminder of the consequence of hesitation. so, bruised and bleeding, you keep on.
you run until your lungs threaten to collapse and then on farther. your feet carry you through unfamiliar wood, but in your rush, your brain rationalizes that the repercussions of trespassing cannot be much worse than what's behind you. and that seems to be the truth—right up until the real consequence drops out of the tree above you and pins you to the earth below, a blade to your throat.
gritted teeth snap too close to your face. you hear a deep voice—maybe a deeper threat, something to raise the hair on the back of your neck if you could only focus on the words. the world spins and your mind struggles to make sense of the sudden stop in motion, but something far more animal inside you decides that it's had enough. against any remaining survival instinct, you feel all tension bleed from your body—the stranger's face comes into clearer view right as you go limp underneath him. resignation wins out—your limbs wouldn't move if you pleaded with them to.
blond eyebrows meet hairline as your attacker is caught off guard by your forfeiture. "what are you—"
once distant howls growing nearer cut him off. he looks over his shoulder, eyes narrowed at something he cannot yet see. you watch from outside yourself as he turns back toward you. dark eyes meet your own and you see the decision make itself—in one instant you are free of his bodyweight, and in the next you are weightless as he hauls you over his shoulder.
he makes it no more than 10 feet down the path before the last bit of adrenaline leaves you and is replaced by a sudden, blinding pain with no identifiable source. you feel it everywhere—all of the seemingly inconsequential injuries catching up with you now that you've stopped moving. the receding tree line is the last thing you see before the world goes dark.
.
..
the warmth that surrounds you is decadent. you curl into it, reluctant to break the spell of sleep. but then you remember.
you shoot upright, sending at least three layers of blankets rolling off of you. you pinch the fabric of the top one between your fingers—alpaca. not native, but farmed here over the last century or so. you know (and had been told) that it was unbecoming of a princess to hold so much commonplace knowledge. but then again, status matters little now, and this blanket is soft. you're grateful to know the beast it was made from.
it hurts, but you coax your head into swiveling around to survey your surroundings, surprised when you find that it's very clearly someone's home. it's old—some of the wooden boards that line the walls have started to bow against the nails that drove them into the framework of the house, and daylight peaks through the cracks. the bed you rest in can barely be called that—an old futon cushion atop bundles of straw. but it's warm, and you slept. someone has been taking care of you. the thought is sobering; the anxiety that comes with it is enough to hold you to the bed for the foreseeable future.
but your stomach growls, and the bodily betrayal forces you to move. you do it slowly, kicking both feet out from under the blankets. to see them bandaged is startlingly unexpected.
your memories until now are fuzzy at best, but the last thing you distinctly recall is the feeling of sharpened metal biting into your skin. there are few ways you can fathom connecting the dots from that moment to this—swaddled in blankets with your wounds tended to. it leaves you on edge.
on two feet, you sway a bit—the hunger feeds the vertigo that spins the surroundings in your peripheral. one hand braced on the bed now behind you, you blink until things settle. you take a step forward, and the pain is shocking—your feet are clearly more injured than they'd felt at the time, but there is only one way out of this room. you press on.
the heavy wooden door opens into a one room cottage. it's old, and not in the well-loved and well-lived way—the dilapidated structure and lack of any real homely qualities tells you immediately that it's current inhabitant is more of a recent opportunist than a longtime homemaker. that distinction mattered little now, though, and you suppose you should be grateful for your stranger's resourcefulness.
you creep further into the room without a sound until you find yourself in the middle of it. crouched and defensive, until the realization hits you—you see all four walls and are perplexed to find that you are completely alone.
the room is little more than a crooked wooden table and a futon pad on the floor. there are remnants of a fireplace in the center of the room—mortar and brick crumbling up wooden slats toward the roof, but still useful with still-burning embers inside. truly, it's more primitive than livable—there are weapons and tools strung up along the wooden panels of the walls, and animal hides hang in any space between metal and wood. but it's warm, and it's a reminder of what is at stake. what should spur anxiety brings only confusion—when cost of survival is so high, why add another body to the burden?
you forget yourself until the heavy fall of footsteps outside the door reignites your adrenaline. you watch, wide eyed and frozen, as the door picks a fight with whoever is on the other side of it. a weight smacks solidly into it once, twice, and a third time before it opens with a heavy groan. in the daylight, your captor is revealed to you.
hard eyes widen slightly at the sight of you, and then narrow in suspicion. you're still as he takes in all of you, and suddenly very aware of the nightgown you escaped your home in, still hanging off your body. you fight the urge to withdraw into yourself—you know it’s not the time to cower.
he eyes you for a moment more, and then drops a heavy pack on the floor next to him, and busies himself with unloading. you watch as he pulls out tools that look unfamiliar to you—though you suppose any tool would. it's not as if you or your family ever had a need for them.
you watch him work and are surprised to find that he's...handsome. jaw set at a hard angle with scars that wrap around the slope of one side, he's rugged in a way you'd never been taught to find appealing. he is unlike the men that sought after your hand with promises of riches and comfortable living. he is unlike anyone you've seen before, truthfully.
"um—"
"is there something you need?"
his coldness stuns you for a moment. you're not sure what you were expecting—you'd no real reason to anticipate any kindness from the man, but the care by which your feet were wrapped had led your mind in that foolish direction anyway.
you fight the urge to draw your limbs into yourself like a startled turtle. "oh—i just. wanted to thank you, i suppose. for helping me."
he looks up from his sorting to meet your eyes, and the disdain in them feels like a physical wound. he drops the tool in his hand with a sharp thud against the floor, and it makes you jump.
"once you've healed, you will leave."
you exhale sharply. it makes sense, of course—it is no small ask of him to allow you to stay even until you're healed. even so, the reality of the world that awaits you carries a weight to it—it lurks around the periphery of the tiny cabin, waiting for you to poke your head out.
then comes the loss—the blood that still stains your fingertips and the hem of your nightgown. you bow your head—out of shame or grief, you're not sure—and turn on your heel, right back into the room you came from. you shut the door behind you quietly, and you don't make it to the bed. you sink to your haunches and gravity pins you there, head in hands as your mind reintroduces you to each of the ghosts that now have a tight grip on both your ankles.
.
..
it's dark when you emerge, once again driven by hunger or thirst, or some other base need to stay alive despite every glaring sign not to.
you commit yourself to stealth—to staying out of your stranger's way, as much as you can before you take your leave. the dark of the cabin hides you in your trek out of your hiding place—unfortunately, it also hides the solid object on the floor, laid directly in front of your door. your foot catches it and it clangs, the metallic echo ringing in your ears.
you curse under your breath, bending down to feel around in the blackness for whatever you hit. you startle when your fingers hit something unexpectedly soft. you squint, and suck in a breath when you realize what you're holding—a piece of bread. rather, half of a loaf, with a cut of meat nearby, on the metal plate that you’d kicked. you blink, like if you do it enough, the mirage will dissipate and leave only dark wood behind. but it doesn't—the bread gives some as your fingers squeeze around it as if to test it's trustworthiness. you decide to stop looking the gift horse in its mouth, and recede back the dark of your room, food in hand.
.
..
oddly enough, it becomes a regular occurrence. you grow accustomed to expecting a plate of food by your door every night—a seemingly ironic luxury, given your reality now. you hardly see your stranger—you've no idea when he has the opportunity to leave food by your door unnoticed, give his penchant for absence. puzzling still is that the food you're given varies, as if he intends for you to have a fully balanced diet in the middle of a societal collapse.
he doesn’t stop at the food, either—after a few nights spent in your room, he makes his first real appearance in the daylight. a knock at your door rouses you from what’s become a habit of mid-afternoon naps, in lieu of staring at the splintered walls of what was quickly beginning to feel like a cage instead of a place of healing. you pull the door open to find your stranger towering over you—leering down at you with the same discontent he had before. only now, he holds something in his hands, and extends them to you.
“there’s a stream at the edge of the boundary.”
he thrusts what’s in his hands to yours, and you realize that it’s clothing—not in the best shape, but certainly better than the blood-crusted nightgown you still wear. he says no more, and for once you’re grateful for his curt demeanor. he turns on his heel and stalks out of the cabin, back to whatever the outside world has to offer him. after a moment, you follow his path, for the first time since you’d arrived.
it stuns you for a moment, how sinister the land looked in the dark, and how different it looks now. the sun shines hot down on the wheatgrass that sways gently in the breeze. it picks up a lock of your hair and you feel lighter with it.
you walk where you assume you should—down a thinly-worn path between the grass. you find it eventually: a small stream, just wide and deep enough for you to bathe in if you crouch. you turn your head to each side, squinting in your search for prying eyes—you find no one, but it’s still wholly uncomfortable to undress in the open like this.
your reservations leave you the minute you step into the water. warmed by the sun with a sweeping current, you let out a guttural moan that would’ve certainly earned you a chastising from your grandmother for its crudeness. you can’t help it—the caked on dirt and grime dissolves under your fingers and leaves you feeling better than you ever have. there is a slight sting in the soles of your feet—that it is slight is surprising to you, and a harrowing reminder of the clock that continues to tick out of your favor.
.
..
days bleed into weeks. your feet heal earlier than you expect them too, and the guilt you carry is worse than the wound. you know you’ve reached the end of your stay, but you can’t get yourself to leave. not when your stranger still insists on taking care of you. the anticipation is sickening—instead of sitting and waiting to be shooed away, you decide to earn your stay. hard work for someone who’d never worked a day, but the determination proves stronger than the fatigue.
you clean. it’s the only thing you can think to do, and truthfully, it’s necessary. you haul water in old containers on your shoulder from the stream, and you wash the dust away until the floors shine and the windows are clear again. you do this everyday—finding something to clean and fixating on it until the sun reaches the other side of the horizon. today is no different—you set your sights on the ash in the fireplace, using a metal pan to scoop it into a stray tarp to carry outside when you’re done.
you’re almost finished when you hear the now familiar sound of boots scraping the stone outside. you tense, but you don’t stop, pulling another pile of stale smelling soot onto the tarp as your stranger opens the door. you hear him stop behind you, but you don’t turn.
“what are you doing?” the tone is not as harsh as you’re used to—a little fatigued, mostly inquisitive.
“cleaning,” you say softly, pulling up at each corner of the canvas and watching the ash collide into neat little heaps in the center, “i’m almost done—i’ll be out of your way.”
you get to your feet, discard in hand, and turn to look at him. his strong brow furrows as he looks at you, like there’s something about what he sees that he can’t understand. against your best interest, your curiosity gets the better of you.
“i’m sorry, it’s just—i never learned your name.”
the look he levels you with makes you wish you’d never asked. his expression gives away nothing, but it tells you enough.
“how are your feet?”
your stomach drops—all of your attempts at earning your place for naught after all. but you stand in front of him now—to lie to him would be foolish at best.
you can barely raise your voice above a whisper. “healed.”
he studies you for a moment more, and it’s too much for you. your eyes fall to a crack in the floor, and distantly you wish you’d shrink down to slip inside of it, never to be seen again.
“tomorrow i will show you how to trap.” he gruffs, finality lacing his tone. your eyes snap to his but he’s already turning, half way out the door before he stops. he turns his head, eyeing you over his shoulder.
“kento,” he mutters, barely audible and strange meeting your ears, “my name is kento.”
and then he’s gone again—leaving you standing there with a hand full of dirt and no way to discern your left from right as your world tilts on its axis, if only slightly—but noticeable and disruptive all the same.
.
..
you don’t sleep well that night—startled out of a twilight sleep in what appears to be the dark hours of the morning by the rapping of knuckles on your door. kento nods to you in a greeting of his own, turning swiftly on his heel and heading toward the front door. you follow him dutifully, pulling over your shoulders the blanket you’d snagged before you left the warmth of your bed for the chill of the morning. the grass is cool and dewey under your bare feet, and it’s a quiet luxury you find yourself reveling in as you pad along behind him. you can hardly see him in the dark and yet you keep up, somehow—you know there’s too much at stake to lag behind.
true to his word, he teaches you how to trap. solely by doing—few words are exchanged between you as he trudges into the stream and hauls out a weaved basket attached to a rope, fastened to the shoreline by a stray branch. the light that creeps over the horizon begins to illuminate his work—silvery tails gleam as they flick back and forth from inside the cage. you know better than to be sad, but you feel it anyway. it’s silly to feel a kinship with the creatures, not even sentient enough to know that there is no escape for them—but you know, and the weight of that is a tangible thing.
he teaches you how to prepare the fish, then—and you get through it, if not only through sheer determination to not throw up in front of kento. the sun rises and illuminates other opportunities to learn—he teaches you about the native plants, only in simple directions of pointing to a patch of green with an accompanied “don’t touch”, or “fine to eat”. it’d feel patronizing if it wasn’t all so overwhelming—he had a knowledge of things you’d never dreamed of before. all you can feel is excitement that he’s willing to share it with you.
as the sun begins to set, he brings you to the garden—a small patch of land, seemingly unassuming until you step inside. there are fruiting plants everywhere you look—fat, red tomatoes and vining, prickly cucumbers, complete with rows of leafy greens and cabbages. you can’t begin to imagine how he’d managed to grow all of this by himself. his nightly food gifts start to make more sense.
you work side by side, pulling ripe crop from each plant and placing them into a metal canister—usually used for mechanical purposes, but at the end of the world, you find many uses for what you have. you feel emboldened somehow with your hands in the dirt next to his, and the words leave you before you have a moment to reconsider; you tell him of where you’d come from, and of your descent down the hill. you think of the kin you’d left behind, and you feel detached as you tell him of the loss—an observation if nothing else, as if you’d sat on a shoreline and watched the tide flood in.
he doesn’t react—not to your noble status, and not to the death—he’s quiet as he moves on to each plant, only the pattering sound of what he harvests hitting the tin bottom of his canister. you don’t mind—there’s no reaction you’d expect or find helpful, and for some reason, his presence is enough. you find it odd that weeks ago his footsteps incited real fear in your veins, and now he’d spent the day teaching you new ways to be useful. it was a strange and intimate gratitude, but one you felt nonetheless.
you find you see him more now, with your newfound ability to contribute and the determination to do just that. days are spent hauling fresh catches out of the stream, and hunting down small mammals to supplement your diet. you watch him closely—the flex and twist of his torso with the pull of the bow, the way he narrows his focus to the fluffy little thing that scurries among the leaves. with the twitch of a finger, the arrow flies toward its target—there is a screech, and then a sobering quiet. for the first time in your life, you pray—quietly, for the creature with the same instinct to survive that drives you to take its life.
“here,” kento says, handing the bow to you, “try it.”
you wrap your fingers around the wood and do as he asks. it’s deceptively heavy—the tension of the bow makes it nearly impossible to draw back with your own strength. focused and determined not to fail in front of him, you nearly jump out of your skin when his hands cover your own.
“there’s no trick to it,” his voice is gruff but gentle and far closer to you than he’s ever been, “just pull back, like this.”
he guides your hand backward with his own and the tail of the arrow follows—at your back, you feel the muscles in his chest ripple with the effort.
“focus,” he breathes, and you fight a shudder at his proximity, “listen.”
and it’s hard to hear anything over the roar of blood in your ears, but you try, blinking in an effort to snap out of whatever trance kento has put you in. it takes a moment, but then you hear it—the crinkle of leaves beneath tiny paws.
“take a deep breath.” kento allows you to move the bow where you want to, and you try to focus your aim. a bushy tail flicks up behind the underbrush—you train the point of the arrow right below it. your heart thuds wildly in your chest, and suddenly you’re worried that the bow might slide out of your sweating palms, impaling you instead.
“let it go.”
you do as he says, and the ringing in your ears drowns out the sounds of short-lived suffering. he lets go of you then—you don’t notice he’s come to stand in front of you until you feel the rough pad of his thumb swipe gently across your cheek. you blink, your own fingers reaching up to find tears you don’t recall ever shedding. your eyes meet his, and they burn with an intensity you’ve never seen in him before. but he’s not angry—you feel no compulsion to apologize for whatever is happening to you. he takes the bow from your hands, and slings it over his back.
“we’ll go back now,” he says quietly. you follow him up the path, and the tears don’t stop until you reach the cabin. you wonder who exactly it is that you’re crying for.
.
..
you don’t know what it is about the nights that follow that lead kento to decide to stick around, but there’s a part of you that’s glad he does. above all else, you knew better than to question it. he doesn’t say much—he never does—but you’re more than happy to fill the silence. you suppose you owe him the opportunity to know you, after all he’s done for you—you’ve no idea how to quantify the gratitude you’ve felt over the last few months. you do what you can.
“there’s a story my grandmother used to tell,” you murmur, eyes to the fire that crackles in front of you, “i used to sit at her feet while she brushed my hair. she only ever told it to me—it was like a secret between us.”
the wood pops and spits an ember at your feet. you watch it blaze bright, the tiny thing—one last attempt to catch before it snuffs itself out. “there was a princess that lived high in a tower built to protect her from the bandits of the neighboring empire. she was only ever allowed to walk the grounds of the palace under the safety of a full moon. one night, as she crept out of the tower under the cover of the dark, she’s lured into the dark forest by a witch. she promises to grant the princess any wish, for a price.”
your eyes catch kento’s, and for once, his expression is not indifferent. he is here with you in this moment, and it warms you more than the flame. “of course she wishes to be free,” you continue, waving a hand at its inevitability, “and the witch turns her into a hare. and in the original story, that’s the end of it. there’s a lesson there, right?”
“but in my grandmother’s story, it’s the best thing that could’ve happened to the princess. she’s free to hop around to her heart’s content. all she does is eat greenery and lay fat in her den until she dies a natural death after a long and happy life.”
you hear what you think is a scoff from the man next to you. your eyes roam kento’s face, and you think there might even be a hint of a smirk there. it thrills you.
“the tale of an optimist,” he offers quietly, and it’s not bitter.
“she was,” you murmur, “until the end, she was an optimist.”
it’s quiet between you for a moment, save for the crackle of the fire.
“i’m sorry you lost her.”
you smile, and it hurts. the tears well up before you can stop them.
“it’s unfair,” you croak, despite yourself. you’d done well to put up a good front in front of kento—humbling, to see how quickly it could be undone.
you startle when you feel a warm palm close around your clenched fist. “it is unfair,” he says, eyes meeting yours.
the warmth is profound, again despite the fire that heats your cheeks. you find yourself leaning into it until you’ve tucked yourself under his arm. he’s tense, but allows it.
“tell me something about you,” you whisper thickly, needing to think of anything else. he hums, tipping his head back. you sneak a glimpse of the curve of his jaw, glowing between shadows cast by a flickering flame. scar tissue curves and shimmers as it tenses.
“we were a group,” he murmurs, still looking up at the old, wooden boards, “myself and some of the neighbor children. there were no family units, there— we created our own.”
you’re so quiet you think you can nearly hear him piece together the memory in his mind. you know he’s gifting you something precious, so you don’t dare speak.
“we were too young to be running around alone, but there was nowhere to go. we knew enough to dodge the militias that would burn through each village. we thought we did, anyway.”
“the elders were kind. they brought in as many of us as they could on nights when the trucks would come down the road. but we didn’t have parents or homes, and they couldn’t take in all of us.” he pauses, sucking in a long breath. it shifts you when his chest expands. “i was small enough that i was able to fit through a hole in the crawl space under a home. Yu tried, but he wasn’t fast enough.”
“he was my best friend.” kento’s voice is quiet, and more fatigued than you’ve ever heard it. it’s unnerving, seeing his humanity laid out so plainly. “he tried to run, but they caught up just as quickly. they would’ve just taken him to a work camp, but he put up a fight.” he says it with a small smile, like he’s proud. “they shot him and left him there to die.”
if there was a way you could be closer to kento, you’d have found it by now, but you find yourself trying to sneak up under his ribs anyway. trying to find a way to siphon his pain into yourself, if only for a moment.
“you were brave,” you whisper, having nothing else to say except for that—for what feels obvious and true. he scoffs, but you can hear the grief behind it.
“maybe,” he says, arm tightening around your shoulders, “i don’t think i’ve ever felt that way.”
you hum, a low and sympathetic thing, fighting the urge to nuzzle into his chest. it’s strange, how easy it is to default to such animal inclinations when there’s no need to abide by arbitrary customs. there is only the two of you here, and the urge to comfort kento is strong.
“will you let me do something?”
he glances down at you out of the corner of his eyes—narrowed in distrust, despite baring his most tender bits to you only a moment ago. you push past it.
“here,” you say, sitting up and out from under his hold, “sit here.”
“on the ground?” he’s not so much incredulous as he is confused—and you’ll take what you can get. you nod, an appeasing sort of grin teasing the corners of your mouth.
his eyes are still narrowed when he goes—crouched in defense like you wait with bared teeth instead of open arms. still, he moves to sit before you—facing you. you laugh a little, endeared.
“i meant for you to turn—“
“no.”
you’re snapped back to reality then—to the present moment, with this man that kindly took you in but does not trust you. you take in a slow breath, careful not to flinch under the weight of his stare.
“okay,” you murmur, reaching up to pull free from your hair the comb that tethers it in its knot, “that’s okay.”
your hair slips down over your nape as you pull the teeth of it free—hard and familiar in your fingers, you offer it to him like one would a scrap of food to a feral dog. an heirloom made of deer bone—your family’s own commitment to using all that you were given, even if it was in excess. a reminder of a luxury that never felt like one until now.
“is it okay?” you ask, pulling up on your own bravery to keep his stare. after a long moment of careful deliberation, he nods tersely.
you lean forward slightly, careful of his space, and let him see the comb as you reach up. he jumps when the dulled prongs meet his scalp, but you stay the course. you pull it through the blond strands—longer than they were when you first met, the dulled ends slipping through with each pass.
you sit back to look at him after a moment. there’s no resistance, nor is there any enthusiasm—but you trust that he’d stop you if he was uncomfortable, so you keep going.
you lose yourself in the task, pulling (or pushing, from where you sit in front of him) the carved bone through his hair. you allow him the privacy of a reaction—eyes focused only on the strands that flit away from the teeth of the comb.
so focused, it seems, that you have to suppress the jerk of your leg when he leans up against it. the quick glimpse you allow yourself gores you—his eyes now closed, head cushioned by the soft of your thigh. looking more childlike than you’ve ever seen him in the months you’ve spent every minute with him. you see flashes of him as a boy—small and without scarring or a reason for haunches to raise in fear or rage. you think of him laughing—rolling in mud and being scolded by an otherwise kind woman instead of squeezing his way through jagged, wooden boards to save his life. never knowing the sound of a shot ringing out in the street.
you tuck your face into your shoulder—determined to hide the tears and your grief on his behalf. determined to let him feel this, whatever it is, and be a safe place for him to do it. to be the strong arm and the kind hand for him now—the one he can give his precious trust to.
the fire crackles and the mourning is heavy in the air—but kento is alive beneath your fingers, and your own heart beat is a heavy and reassuring thud inside your chest.
.
..
he is a rose in bloom, in the nights that follow. tightly coiled and still with all of his thorns, but in bloom nonetheless.
he becomes something of your shadow. where he lingered out of distrust he now hovers with intent—comically so, his large body folding itself in the small confines of the makeshift kitchen while you wring out linens in the sink. it’s clear that something has shifted between you—though what, you’re unsure. your mind tells you he is finally coming around to you. your heart yearns for something more than just his trust, though you are not unaffected by the weight of that trust alone.
he is never more than an arm’s length away. he leaves in the darkened hours of the morning to hunt, and is somehow back before the sun rises to wake you. that was another shift—he hadn’t asked you to join him on a hunt since that night. he hadn’t asked you for anything after that, really. he sleeps nearer, too—you’d been under the impression that he’d been sleeping outside until he wound up at the foot of your bed, sleeping still like a guard dog. you didn’t have the heart to ask him about it—you just left the candle burning and turned away from the door. he was owed privacy in his vulnerability, and you give him that.
and however hard to read the man may be, you feel some discontent at not pulling your weight, so you try your best to anyway. patching up holes in the wooden exterior of your home. sealing the windows with fur and fat to beat the chill of the creeping fall. you know that the garden tending is cyclical with the seasons—the cold calls for heartier vegetables. you pull and preen until your fingers swell, aching.
and there he would be—watching you, as always.
“hard work for a princess,” he mutters through something suspiciously similar to a smirk. you level him with a glare—the heat of which is immediately snuffed out in comparison to the heat of the cloth that he wraps around your wind-bitten hands. the heat of his body before yours is a close second to the warmest you've ever been despite all of the holes you'd still yet to patch.
“i hardly remember ever being one now,” you murmur, leaning into his side as his thumbs swipe over your palms—needle pinpricks left in their wake, even through the fabric.
he scoffs, his hands engulfing yours in his warmth. "are you not still?"
"i suppose, technically." you shrug, letting him crowd you over to the old, torn up futon that you'd been using as living room furniture. he'd been doing a lot of that lately—pushing you to relax. itching to take a weight from you. he arranges you to his liking, wrapping one of the woven blankets around your shoulders. "i was meant to be made into more than that, you know. before the uprising."
kento only raises an eyebrow at you. you shrug, past the point of shrinking from his silence. "my family had paid a sizeable dowry to have me married off. an heir in a neighboring village, supposedly. only my grandmother was against it, in her own, quiet way. she took to calling me her rabbit, after her story. she wanted differently for me."
there's no mistaking the way kento stiffens. there's no reason for it, nor is there a justification for the way you want to placate him. you do it anyway.
"maybe it's for the best," you say, waving your hand as if to dismiss the whole thing entirely, "i'm not exactly the noble type, now."
you watch him deflate. he nods sagely, the smirk pulling at his lips again. "surely you're the most frightening princess i've ever met."
you turn your head to watch him settle in next to you—another new behavior, seemingly unbothered by the proximity that he no doubt was unfamiliar with. "what's that supposed to mean?"
his teasing grin fades into something a little more forlorn. "when i found you, i expected you to be afraid. i wouldn't have harmed you—i only wanted to scare you off."
you huff. "that wasn't very nice."
"you weren't afraid though. it was unnerving."
"oh?" you grin, reaching to poke him in the ribs. "you were afraid of me?"
he reaches for your hand and pulls it to his lap. "i was sad for you. it wasn't a resilience—it felt as though you were broken."
it hurts, you decide, to be known like this. how simple things had been when he'd only left you provisions at your bedroom door and left you be. now you'd gone and allowed your heart to run freely ahead without a tether. you'd no way of preparing for the injury that freedom would cause.
"you pitied me," you mutter, unable to keep the bitterness from your tone. the mood shifts between you, and something inside you wants to resent him for it. how warm it had been inside the delusion—the world in which you both exist in this space as equals, brought together by fate and want and nothing else.
"no, not pity." you startle at the feeling of his fingertips as they brush a tendril of hair from your face. "you reminded me of myself. i didn't want you to be alone."
"why take on that burden?"
kento hums, pushing his fingers through the hair at your temple. despite yourself, you lean into the touch. "maybe i didn't want to be alone, either."
you blink, the sentiment working its way into your head. it lands significantly south—deep in your chest with an ache you can't describe. you reach for the wrist in your peripheral, stopping his movement and keeping him close. "is that all?"
"no." his admittance is a whispered, strained thing. you're close enough that to tilt your head back brings his jaw to your lips. the ghost of your breath along his skin makes him shudder, and you feel the fingers in your hair flex into a grip.
"what else, then?"
he ducks his chin to nose at your cheek. your eyes flutter closed, mind empty of all that swam around in it only a moment ago.
"my rabbit," his bottom lip brushes against your own, "what else is there but you?"
.
..
the weather changes and the gods grow restless.
you both feel it at the first chill of the year. there’s no graceful turn of the seasons—the air is bitter and cold, and you know something is coming. there’s little time for play, so on the last few warm evenings of fall, you take advantage of it. or you try to—you drag kento into the stream to soak in the dwindling rays of sun, but the knowledge of what is to come weighs heavily on you both. he holds you up in the current—body to body, only breathing. you can't get close enough—to reach inside him and carve out a space for yourself would still not sate the longing you feel.
that wretched something shows it’s face soon enough. the first snow is harsh, collecting in heavy banks against the roof of the house. the wood sags under the weight and the cold creeps in through the wood until the fire is no longer enough to warm the house in it's entirety—only the small space in front of the mantel that you crowd around. you and kento don’t talk much these days—to speak takes energy you don’t have to spare. he is doting as he always is—making sure you are covered in every layer of fabric and fur he can find, but something is wrong. you know the worst is yet to come. you feel it in the way kento holds you too close during the night; it’s never warm enough.
at first there is hope. kento has his food reserves and you'd preserved some of what you’d gathered. but a week of snow turns to two, and two weeks turn to two months. the rations get smaller and the two of you get hungrier. by the third month, you understand that you will not be spared the gods’ wrath. you see the punishment for what it is—a utilitarian consequence to all of the bloodshed by man. you do not have the energy to mull over the unfairness of that. even if you did, the gods do not concern themselves with what is fair—you know that now. the light inside you fades with every new inch of snowfall.
but kento is kind, despite your insistence that he be otherwise. he pulls from his own warmth to add to yours. your dinner portions are always bigger, even if it means he goes without eating entirely. it’s in vain, of course. neither of you will live through this. you scold him for pushing the last of his food on your plate and he doesn’t bother to respond. he only watches while you eat, like he can’t rest until he knows for sure that you have eaten all he has to offer you. you chew through tears and the only comfort is the hand that reaches to wipe them from your cheek. it’s a painful end, wasting away like this. watching kento fade away.
it's when you can smell death's approach that you know with certainty that your humanity has fled for a better place. the thing that remains in you—that keeps your heart beating, that coaxes your lungs to inflate—is purely animal. and it's out of that same primal need that you close the distance between kento's frail body and your own. in the silent chill of the night, the warmth between you may be merely a hallucination now, but you feel it all the same. there is no pain anymore. only a pull into a sleep you want so badly to slip into.
you don't cry—you use the last of the strength in your body to tuck yourself under kento's chin and curl around him in some intimate display of what exists between you. of what has existed this whole time.
"if this is the end," you murmur, knowing that it is, "i'm happy that i'll leave this world with you."
the knuckles that brush against your cheek are sharp and gnarled now. you've never known a touch so tender. it’s odd to speak—to shatter the intimacy of the silence that’s floated around the both of you for much of the last few weeks.
"do you know now?"
if you close your eyes, you can pretend that the man in your arms will live to see the morning. that this is merely pillow talk, and the sun will wake you with warmed skin in a few hours.
but you don't let yourself turn away. it's striking, how even with his last few breaths, kento manages to use them worrying about you. you wonder if he's done it the whole time. you do know; you realize with unmistakable clarity that you'd know his love anywhere, now. you nod, feeling his thready pulse against your forehead.
"i do. you'll have to forgive me for not seeing it sooner."
you feel him scoff—an inappropriate use of dwindling breath that makes you laugh, too. "there will be plenty of time to show you in the next life, my rabbit."
a brief bitterness curls up your spine—the unfairness of all of this creeping back up like a rising tide. how cruel it was to have settled on the loneliness of a life without love, just to be shown the magnitude of a life with it in the final months of your own.
but it recedes in the next moment, because there is no more time to grieve. you can only feel grateful, now—to leave this world saturated in all that kento has given you.
cracked lips brush the skin of your temple—he has no real energy for a proper kiss, but the desire to comfort is strong between you. you spend the next few, precious moments counting the breaths that rattle inside his chest, grateful for every one cycled through.
in the silent hours of a darker morning, there is a light only the two of you can see. shrouded in the glow, he is so beautiful.
with all of your strength, you call him by his name, one last time. "until next time, my love."
epilogue
if the notion of certainty is alive in anything, it is in the way that fable and folklore are sure to be born and born again out of gatherings of beings with mouths to speak it. one such example is the jagged, snow capped hills of Akaito—a new village comprised of all walks of life, the one commonality between them being their displacement during the fall of the Zaiaku dynasty almost one hundred years prior. built overtop the remnants of survivor settlements crushed under the Great Snow, all who inhabit the land know well of the blood that has stained the soil and pay mind to honor the loss of life in their own ways—namely in storytelling. this great coming together eventually gave way to a new mother tongue for the telling of a new bed time story to bleary eyed babes in the middle of the night: the tale of the Akaito lovers—the wolf and the hare.
as the story goes, villagers who have been bestowed some unearthly dose of luck by the gods may catch a glimpse of an unlikely pair—a formidable looking white wolf with scarring across its broad body, and its counterpart: a fluffy and downright regal grey hare. one might catch them romping around in the dusting after a fresh snow, or preening one another under a shaded tree in the heat of the summer. depending on who tells the tale, it might be the case that if a person is truly fortunate and determined to wait out the dark of night, they might even be gifted the sight of the duo curled around one another, sleeping peacefully in a protective and loving embrace under the light of a waning moon.
as with all fables, the story is altered with every new tongue that speaks it, and one day the tale will vanish from the minds of the younger generations completely. but for now, it is ripe in the minds of the young and old, the latter of which are very certain that it is no mere fable at all.
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the-sage-libriomancer · 6 months
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Shigure's relationship with Kyo drives me crazy. he doesn't hate Kyo in the slightest - in fact, he pities Kyo, and not in the condescending "oh you poor little boy, cursed to be a horrible, disgusting monster" sort of way that everyone else does. Shigure pities Kyo for the reason he should be pitied: he's just a kid caught up in a system so inhumane it can't possibly be survived without some seriously unhealthy coping mechanisms.
and it drives me crazy because - listen, Shigure is the only zodiac member who's emotionally aware enough to see the other zodiac members as exactly what they are. he knows Yuki is a severely traumatized kid who projects all of his self-hatred on a single convenient target. he knows Akito is really a scared little girl with a raging god complex (literally) and no concept of a healthy relationship. and he knows Kyo is a regular-ass human being who doesn't deserve to be locked up for the rest of his life just because some arbitrary system says so. he KNOWS it's stupid. he KNOWS it's ridiculous and unfair. and he has to share a house with Kyo knowing that Kyo is living with a sword over his head, hating himself and hating others in perfect tandem because he has no other way of coping with the insane amounts of negativity he's had to deal with his entire life.
but the thing about Shigure is that he KNOWS all of this, and the same time he doesn't really CARE. he feels sorry for Kyo, but an apathetic sort of pity, a disinterested "this is how it is. such a shame." sort of pity. in some ways he's worse than the other zodiacs because he DOES see Kyo as a person, someone he likes being around even, but he still considers Kyo below his attention because all his focus is on Akito and breaking the curse. and sure, once the curse is broken Kyo will theoretically be set free with the rest of them, but that's more of a coincidental side effect than anything. despite being in a much more dangerous and precarious mental space AND comfortably in Shigure's reach, Kyo is about as much a priority for Shigure as Ritsu or Momiji.
and it drives me CRAZY because i think Shigure does start actively caring about Kyo as the series goes on, but it's hard to tell when that happens and to what extent. when Kazuma told Shigure he planned to reveal Kyo's true form and Shigure said he was going too far - whose sake was it for? was Shigure trying to protect Kyo, who would be hideously traumatized/emotionally scarred by such a cruel betrayal? was he trying to protect Kyo and Tohru's relationship, which was still formulating and might, under such severe testing, ultimately end up damaged beyond repair? was he only trying to protect Tohru, who wasn't ready to be burdened by such a horrible aspect of the curse so soon, or perhaps simply didn't deserve it? or was it all for the sake of himself, trying to protect his still-forming plans of using Tohru's positive effect on the Sohmas to break the curse?
Shigure cares about Kyo, but they're not close and Kyo clearly isn't a priority. he treats Kyo like a person - offering him genuine advice, teasing him like he teases anyone else, even speaking up on his behalf once or twice - and yet he's too entrenched in the long game to spare much active interest in Kyo. for a very long time, he doesn't care about Kyo the way he cares about Yuki or Tohru, and it's never made clear when exactly that changed. and the thing that gets me about this whole situation is that right from the start, Shigure is in a position where he can meet Kyo at his level - as equals, just one human being to another - but he doesn't, because Shigure is a chessmaster, Shigure is someone who observes and calculates, Shigure never steps in unless one of his chess pieces makes a wrong move and he absolutely has to.
it drives me crazy. Shigure drives me crazy. this series drives me so so crazy.
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dipperdesperado · 9 months
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Get Organized!
I recently made a post about how to get started in doing radical stuff. Said otherwise, that post was meant to answer the question, “Where do I go, when I know the world is fucked?” This post covers similar ground, but is more interested in the theoretical side of things. Not to say it won’t be practical. It’s just saying that if you’re not the kind of person that can read a little bit and feel confident to act, or you like having a little bit more scaffolding, that you also deserve a resource. I’m hoping to contribute to that today. As the title says, we’re going to be focusing on organizing. This is one of those things that is said a lot, but is actually defined much less often. Tangentially, you should be aware and ready for this for literally everything relating to politics. Any word that you hear used, you should always ask for a definition. Many a movement would have gone differently if folks spent more time trying to find semantic alignment. Anyway.
When I say organizing, I mean catalyzing the energy of folks, acting from a specific theory of change. A theory of change is a thought process or method to create some kind of social impact in a particular context. When the world sucks in some particular way, and you want it to stop sucking, the answer is to organize, in the way defined above. By organizing, we lean on the idea of collective power to create changes that are currently only afforded to those with authoritarian power. It’s a game of evening the odds.
I will also note that this assumes that you are going to be framing your work around broad-based movements, that have (mostly) aboveground (as in “legal”) tactics. This is not necessarily a statement of what is correct; small groups that are in concert with larger movements are also able to be successful, even when doing more confrontational tactics.
So, to organize, I’d say it would be useful to be involved in movements already. You can look at my radicalism 100 post to see how that could look. Either way you have to know what your where your niche(s) lie. In other words, what sits in the middle of the intersection between what you like to do, what you are good (or can become good/have a willingness to become good) at, and what is needed in your context. I tend to center the local level, because that is the area where influence is more tangible, and fits into how I see a resilient world coming to fruition. So, you have to ask yourself, “What can I do, that I would enjoy doing, in my community?” Then, you should find some other people who are in that same vibe. Depending on your approach, this may take no time at all, or a lot of time. I listed some ideas for finding folks in radicalism 100, but to reiterate: look for social medias and IRL presences of people who are into the same topics, and connect with them. See where you can plug in, and see where the contours of organizing in your local contexts are. Ideally you can see places where gaps can be filled.
Once you find an issue that you think has potential, and you have a couple of people to do some organizing with, you have what I think of as a catalyst group. This group is meant to start (or assist) in a certain kind of reaction, but not lead it. Trying to control movements is both futile and antithetical to liberation. So, to ground us, we have two very important ingredients: a topic/issue/area of focus to organize around, and a group of folks to work with. Once this is in place, you can co-create a strategy with your organizing team. I’d recommend employing an encircling strategy as your long-term or meta strategy, where multiple sub-strategies and campaigns happen within this frame. Essentially, this allows you to employ campaigns across a matrix of tactics. Within the encircling frame, you can create a campaign (what I consider a “short-term” strategy). Campaigns are a series of actions over time. Strategies are a series of campaigns over time.
A useful way to think of strategic planning is by separating the process into stages, grouped by movement size.
Small: Organize small actions/protests, figuring out ways to build movement visibility and interest
Medium: Focus on scaling up the participation, through mobilizing efforts. Promote your actions, get people involved, and encourage meaningful action.
Large: Create a movement. The kind of thing people hear about.
To organize on the smallest level, the easiest thing might be to just do plan actions that are well within your team’s capacity, organize those actions, and execute. If you can swing it, I’d really recommend to not lean too much into symbolic actions. There are risks with every action, no matter what legal frameworks your locality has. If you’re going to do something, you have to be very intentional with:
what you hope to accomplish through the action
a high likelihood of success for the action
doomsday planning in case something goes wrong
If you’re able to do this, then you will be leagues ahead of a lot of other folks. This is not to make it a race or a competition, but it is moreso to say you can symbolically represent and catalyze action without becoming a martyr.
As you’re doing actions, you should be refining your idea of who’s impacted by the issues more and more. As that picture gets clearer, you should spend more and more time understanding and listening to those folks. Ideally, you get to a point of co-creation, where you are enabling people to fight for themselves and build their autonomy. That is the kind of thing that prevents movements from dying. Organizers should be trying to put themselves out of business, in a sense. Catalysts should be able to come from anywhere.
To scale up, I’d recommend a focus on meeting folks. Take the ideas of deep canvassing, where you empathetically have conversations with whoever is impacted by the issue you’re responding to, through the lens of giving power to those people. Rather than asking them to feed into some established system of power, encourage them to take action into their own hands, as a collective.
I’d also recommend that as capacity grows, build a “positive” or “constructive” power. This can look like a lot of things. Whether it is a block club, neighborhood pod, community council, or community assembly, dedicate energy into creating spaces where people can start building their democratic and consensus muscles. These can simultaneously act as the training ground and alternative governance structure that allows folks to start making decisions for themselves in a very specific way.
This will ideally allow the movement to really start to be intersectional. It should be intersection minded from the outset, but that can be difficult to meaningfully actualize in the early stages of the movement. since single-issue movements are inherently brittle (if your movement revolves around getting something on a ballot, winning or losing just ends the movement)—there are throughlines that connect all movements, and those lines should be made visible and traveled. Environmentalists should fight for housing rights, LandBack, Reparations, and a host of other things. The more developed our networks, the stronger our movements will be.
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amphorographia · 8 months
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Something interesting about Pathologic that I don't see people talk about very often is the fact that technically none of the protagonists are doctors and, of the three, it's actually Artemy that's the closest to a real physician.
The fact that Daniil is specifically referred to as a "Bachelor" of medicine is something that was always sort of confusing to me but is actually extremely telling when put together with all the other details we get about him.
There's an excellent video essay about Daniil's character by Horror Game Analysis which goes into more detail about this [x], but he points out two things about thanatology that I think are really significant:
It was first conceptualised as a field of study in 1903 by Ilya Mechnikov, a Russian-Ukranian immunologist and microbiologist, who felt that there was not enough known about the phenomenon of death itself; and
Thanatology straddles the line between the humanities and the sciences because it's investigations grapple with the physical, psychological, socio-cultural, philosophical, and spiritual elements of death
With all that in mind and Pathologic's ambiguous time period, Daniil could very much be read as the in-game world's equivalent of Mechnikov. Despite his (sort of) alignment with the philosophically-minded Kains, Daniil is consistently shown to be very much focused on the physical components of death. He came to the town hoping that "[Simon's] tissues will help [him] defeat death." Rubin, Artemy, Victor (and Lara, Yulia, Aspity, Anna, and Clara) all need him to collect and examine blood samples for evidence of the disease. Once the plague begins, his focus in on the creation of a vaccine - a tool for immunisation - instead of a cure.
All of the evidence points to Daniil, at his core, being a microbiologist and researcher. His medical knowledge, while far above average, is highly specialised and doesn't indicate that he has any practical experience as a physician. He's not a doctor, he's a bachelor of medicine using his theoretical and academic expertise to fight an impossible disease in the only way he knows.
Now, Artemy does have some practical knowledge. Isidor taught him about the traditional medicine of the town while he was growing up before sending him to "study modern medicine in the academy" when he was 16. However, in his opening description, all we are told is that Artemy is returning from several years of "travelling from town to town learning theoretical and pratical surgery." In Pathologic Classic, Artemy is canonically 26 years old so if he spent 6-7 years travelling, his formal medical education was likely either short or incomplete. Not to mention that the emphasis on Artemy as a surgeon and menkhu (much like Daniil as a bachelor and thanatologist) implies a very specialised area of expertise which, although closely related to practical medicine, is not the same thing.
This is reinforced in a number of ways. For example, while there are multiple dialogue options which let you dismiss the town's local medical practices, they appear mostly (or only) in conversations with outsiders - responding to Daniil's admission of underestimating the value of "steppe medical knowledge" with "there's nothing medical in their knowledge" and telling Block that he has "an education in the civilized world and ha[s] forgotten two thirds of the specific local practices." Ultimately, Artemy is more consistently aligned with the Kin's more bodily approach to medicine. That distinction between Kin and Town is important, since the traditional medicines Artemy makes are not valued or trusted by townspeople and the kin refuse almost all of the modern medicine (specifically antibiotics) sold in the town.
He also seems to be either unfamiliar or seriously out of practice with the more formal language of science and medicine a university-educated physician should know. At several points, Artemy is shown to be dependent on Daniil's medical knowledge, and various members of the town poke fun at him for asking clarifying questions - Boy: "You graduated from a university and this is your question…?" Rubin: "I thought you were [away] studying." Artemy's story is about trying to fill his father's role and, while he succeeds in becoming a menkhu, his position as the town's doctor is less clearly defined even after the plague. While he begins the game with the most practical experience of the three protagonists, the fact that he's not qualified to be a physician but has to act as one is what drives his story forward.
I won't go into Clara since it's obvious she's not a doctor. If anything, she's more like a personification of a cure for this one specific disease (just like her 'twin' is the plague). She couldn't reset a bone or diognose the flu any more than she could synthesise antibiotics or distinguish between bacteria in a blood sample. Still, she's an interesting comparison point and does serve to remind the player that the protagonists don't really represent different approaches to medicine, but different approaches to healing.
The Bachelor is the modern healer of formal scientific practices who sees healing as the result of understanding the body, disease, and their interactions.
The Haruspex is the traditional healer with the spiritual or ancestral right to protected knowledge and practices who sees healing as a reflection of cultural duty, customs, and community.
The Changeling is the divine healer chosen by a Deity (or Deities) to carry out their will on earth who sees healing as an act of religious faith and demonstration of the existence and power of God(s).
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tenpintsofsundrop · 11 months
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Emergency Contact
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Jason Todd x Gender Neutral Reader
Leave me something - or let me out. I'm starving. Push me, pull me. Waiting for the start of:
Things that I want, this happily ever after. You choke on your words, but you swallow them faster. Just want you to be my Emergency Contact.
Summary:
After Jason miraculously comes home from his brush with Deathstroke, you're both feeling it in very different ways. You have an unexpected physical wound from the battle, and he has many (very expected) emotional wounds. You help each other heal. Even if it's very stubborn on both your parts.
Jason Todd x GN!Powered!Reader. Enemies/FWB to Lovers. Angst and Hurt/Comfort. (Slight Smut). Set during Season 2, Episode 5.
Word Count: 10,400
Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link
If you want to be notified whenever I post a new fic, make sure to follow my library blog @sundropslibrary and turn on notifications there.
List of detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.
Warnings: general emotional angst, Jason has a self deprecating inner dialogue, (kind of) enemies to lovers - more like annoyances to fuck buddies to lovers, friends with benefits to lovers, the reader and Jason have a bantering/argumentative nature to their relationship, the reader is meant to be 100% gender neutral (the reader is never referred to in the third person, so there is no need to use they/them pronouns, but the reader is not called she/her or he/him), Jason calls the reader ‘babe’ (imo, a completely gender neutral term and he would call anybody that), mentions of alcohol (Jason drinking a beer), the reader character has ice powers (not entirely relevant to the plot but I couldn’t help myself lmao).
sexual themes throughout, mentions of sexting (no detailed descriptions), mentions of sexting in public, mentions of the reader character sending nudes to Jason (no detailed descriptions of the photos), one scene with detailed smut (but it is not the primary focus of the fic), the reader’s genitals are not described in any specific way, some dirty talk, Jason is more dominant and the reader is more submissive, penetrative sex, Jason is annoying even during sex, Jason has a pain kink (even when he’s a dom, he’s a painslut, I don’t make the rules), scratching/marking (Jason receiving), slight humiliation kink.
mentions of canon level violence, mentions of kidnapping (in alignment with canon), mentions of Jason being beaten by Deathstroke, mentions of Jason’s near-death experience (being dropped off the building), gun violence, the reader is injured - has a bullet wound/bullet fragment in their stomach, mentions of blood, descriptions of first-aid, mentions of puss from an infected wound (theoretically, not something that happens in the fic). That should be everything.
A/N: The title for the fic comes from a song by Pierce the Veil of the same name. It's a newer song, and it's one that I absolutely went to when looking for a title for this fic. The concept of becoming someone's emergency contact is about upgrading the relationship from casual to much more serious, and just the whole song, and specific lyrics in it suit this fic so well. I highly recommend listening to it paired with this fic.
This was based on a request from my old blog, but obvi I don't have that ask anymore - the request was about Jason getting shot and having his wound attended to by the reader, but I changed it to the reader getting shot cause I thought that was more interesting and less common. If the person who made that request sees this and finds my new blog, I hope you enjoy it! And in general, I hope everyone who reads this enjoys it.
...
If asked, you would be hard pressed to explain your relationship with Jason Todd. 
The best way you could describe it would probably be - friends with benefits? 
But most of the time, the two of you weren’t even friends. You weren’t the type to hang out casually, or spend time alone together if it didn’t involve ripping each other’s clothes off. 
If you ever exchanged secrets or those precious bits of your most raw selves, it was by mistake. It was through sarcasm, or coming off the tired lips of someone who had just been exhausted by a few orgasms. The two of you knew each other well, quite literally inside and out. But you always made a deep, concerted effort to hold each other at arm’s length. And maybe that’s part of what all the snark and harsh words were for. 
It wasn’t all arguing. You were friendly. You could be civil, at the very least. 
Right from the moment you had first met Jason, you had found him to be so damn annoying, a shitstain on the earth - yet, someone you couldn’t stay away from. The line between flirtatious banter and a truly grinding argument was always so thin with the two of you. 
… 
You hadn’t expected that your life would be truly changed when you walked into that safehouse in Chicago that day. You truly thought nothing of him when his eyes landed on you - in those moments, a completely anonymous stranger, raking his eyes over you like you were a piece of meat. It was a gaze that immediately made you feel naked, something that made you want to smack him. You told yourself it was because he was being a pervert, not because of the heat that curled in your gut at feeling so intensely desired by him. 
He had been sitting on the couch sipping a beer like he owned the place, his thighs spread wide in a way you immediately decided was arrogant and annoying rather than hot - showing off his muscle tone as if it was trying to break through his jeans. Definitely annoying. Definitely the stance of a fuckboy trying to look bigger and badder than he was. He definitely was not attractive. 
When Dick led you, Rachel, Gar, and Kory further into the condo that seemed far too conspicuous to be a safehouse, the stranger you would later come to know as Jason quickly spoke up. 
“Who are your friends?” He asked. 
As he rose from the couch, his eyes lingered on you. Though his words seemed more out of curiosity, you couldn’t help but feel that bite of something more salacious lingering in his voice. 
It caused you to scoff and roll your eyes. 
“Not important.” Dick declared, his voice snippy. He was clearly annoyed with this new guy, and you could tell that your perceptions of him were definitely not ill-informed. 
“Who’s he?” Kory asked, going for the obvious question. 
“Not important.” Dick parroted out the words again, sounding much shorter with his patience. 
“Anybody want a brew?” Jason asked, motioning with the beer bottle in his hand. 
“Brew?” You twisted your eyebrows with disgust, staring him down as you commented on his odd choice of slang. 
He didn’t get to reply, as you were trampled over by Gar’s enthusiastic voice in your ear. 
“I do!” He said, raising his hand with excitement. 
“No, you don’t.” You quickly told him, reaching out to grab his hand and put it back down. “It’s disgusting.” 
You had a grand suspicion that Gar had never drank beer before, and he had no idea what he was truly asking for. Rather, he was simply taking advantage of trying new things because Dick and Kory were incredibly slack parental figures and he was away from home for the first time. 
“No, no one wants a brew.” Dick sighed, shaking his head. He threw Jason a small glare and you resisted the urge to laugh. 
“That can’t be Adamson.” Kory said, motioning toward Jason. 
This left you confused. But you didn’t question it. 
“He’s not Adamson. Adamson’s in the bathroom. Unconscious.” Dick explained. 
“Hi, I’m Rachel.” Rachel told Jason, offering him a sweet smile - being her usual sweet self. 
“Jason.” He introduced himself, in that moment, finally giving you a name to that obnoxious face. 
“I’m Gar!” Gar said with a grin, to which Jason nodded. 
Jason caught you glaring at him, and looked you up and down again, as if trying to willfully tear off your clothes with his eyes. It made your skin itch with heat and you would forever deny that it was a feeling you liked. 
“What can I call you, babe?” He asked, his voice entirely slimy, the kind of tone he would have used to recite cheesy lines to Tinder dates, you were entirely sure of. 
Before you could come up with some clever reply, Dick sighed in frustration and started balking again. 
“Okay, who we all are doesn’t matter right now.” He pressed, his neck so entirely tense that veins began to pop from the skin. “Can we just chill out, relax, sit on the couch and watch TV or something?” 
It seemed that he wouldn’t get his wish. 
Gar quickly charged around the table, finding something else to get strung up about. 
“Yo, when did you get another one?” He asked, putting his hands on both of the expensive cases on the long dining table - a copy identical to the one you knew to be containing Dick’s Robin outfit. 
It made you curious, and the answer that followed certainly surprised you. 
“That one’s mine.” Jason said, his chest literally puffing out with pride as he stated the fact. 
“No way.” You scoffed. 
“Yes way.” He quickly argued back, the whole exchange sounding entirely juvenile.
“This one’s yours? Wait, you’re Robin too?” Gar quickly put the pieces together. 
“I thought you were Robin?” Rachel commented, tilting her head toward Dick with curiosity. 
“I am.” Dick said firmly. 
“He was.” Jason corrected, a cocky smirk forming across his lips. 
“Batman really lowered the height requirement, huh.” You said. 
The words flew from your mouth before you could stop them, seeing as it was likely the only thing you could nitpick about Jason’s appearance. Between his stunning sharp jaw, his piercing blue eyes, his oddly appealing wild hair, his muscle tone being somehow visible beneath his baggy clothing - all of it made you equally frustrated and annoyed with him, and your baser urges couldn’t resist the low-hanging fruit. 
You felt victory and a slight pang of guilt when Jason deflated because of your comment, shrinking back into himself at your words. 
He didn’t have anything to say in return, he simply sipped his beer. 
“Wait, how many Robins are there?” Gar said, beginning to excitedly ramble at the thought. “Are there a lot? Cause I would love to-” 
“Okay, quiet.” Kory cut him off, clearly becoming annoyed with all of this dancing around the point as much as Dick was. “Sit.” 
Her words were firm, and you couldn’t help but to listen. You found yourself collapsing to sit on the couch while Rachel and Gar took seats at the dining table. Jason continued to linger in the middle of the room, staring at Kory and Dick as their frustration filled the air. 
“Bathroom.” Kory told Dick, and then they left to deal with whoever - or whatever - Adamson was. 
Jason sighed and took a seat beside you. When his eyes fell on you, you set your jaw and glared at him. You didn’t give away a single ounce of the heat you were feeling as his eyes locked with yours. 
“Even if I am the shorter Robin, I can assure you that everything else about me is… very long.” He lowered his voice and whispered those last words, crowding into your personal space as he did so. 
It sent shivers down your spine, his silken voice making the words sound too tempting. Even if you twisted your face and said ‘gross!’ causing him to dissolve into laughter, you didn’t make an effort to move away from him or put any space between your two bodies on the very large couch. You told yourself it was because you were tired from a very long day of travel, not because you were enjoying the smell of his strangely expensive cologne from this close by. 
His grin was still entirely smug, and you couldn’t stand it. 
When he raised the beer bottle up to his mouth again, you reached over and put a hand on his forearm, forcefully dragging his arm down as you made a snide comment. 
“That shit is disgusting, why the hell do you drink it?” You asked. 
You found your face drifting toward his again and if asked, you would say it was a form of intimidation - not that you were being drawn in by an unconscious attraction to him. 
“Because I can.” He replied, just as snide as he slipped your grip and sipped on the drink. 
You mocked his words in an entirely childish voice, and then you raised a single finger up to it and skimmed along the neck of the bottle. It took only a single moment of concentration with your skilled powers to freeze the beer inside solid. He thought he felt an extra chill coming off his hand, but convinced himself that he imagined it. But when he kept it tilted and nothing came out to meet his lips, he shook it and then stuck an inquiring eye inside the bottle. 
When he saw that it was completely frozen, he looked over and saw you grinning, and little did you know - that was the moment he became completely taken with you. You were one of the most annoying people he had ever met, and he found himself so intensely attracted to you. 
Even if it was getting under your skin by arguing with you or fucking your brains out, he knew in that moment - he had to get inside you and drive you insane the same way that he knew you would for him. 
… 
When Dick left to go check on his old circus friend Clay, Jason winked at you and said ‘don’t miss me too much’. You made a show of putting a finger near your mouth and audibly gagging. 
Later that night, when Jason didn’t return, you hated the curl of disappointment that panged in your stomach. You wanted to hit yourself for staring at the door, waiting for the second Robin to come in behind Dick. 
You hated yourself even more for replying to Jason’s texts. 
Apparently he had taken your phone out of your jacket pocket when you went to the bathroom (not to see Adamson - a different bathroom, to pee). And he had put himself in your contacts as ‘Hot Guy’. He had also sent himself a text from your phone that read ‘omg Jason you’re so hot, will you fuck me?’. And then replied to it from his own phone with a picture of his cock. 
Unfortunately, the only thing you could mock about the picture was poor lighting. 
When you told him as much, he quickly remedied that with several more pictures - ones with better lighting. He sent a video with very distinct audio. You would deny that you rushed to put your headphones in to listen to it while you sat on the train with Kory and Gar. You would deny that it drove a hard, hot pain between your thighs. 
You dug through a folder and sent some pictures of your own. You told yourself it was to prove to him that you were too good for him - to show off something he could never actually have. To tease him. 
You would deny that you loved the compliments he gave you, that you ate up the affection like a plant lovingly soaking up the sun. 
When you were sexting him, you had no clue that you were ever going to see him again. It was almost mindless, something for a dopamine hit to distract yourself from all the chaos going on around you. You weren’t doing it because you actually liked Jason. You didn’t have any real attractions toward him, or any real plans to carry out all of the bold things you said in those messages. 
You had no clue that you’d end up living together. 
When you did find out that Dick would be taking Jason into the newly reopened Titans Tower along with you, Gar, and Rachel, you didn’t make a big deal of it in your mind. When Jason made flirtatious remarks toward you in person, you brushed him off. You put up a wall. 
You told yourself that he was nothing more than a cocky, shallow guy who would use you for sex and then throw you away - something you could never actually build a proper relationship with. And if you were supposed to live together, be some kind of team like Dick expected you to be, then you couldn’t be messy. You couldn’t get emotional. 
You had no clue that on one of those first nights living together, your self assured discipline not to give into your lust for him would break like a wafer cookie, and you would be in his bed faster than a sea turtle running into ocean. 
… 
“Fuck, babe, you feel so good on my cock.” Jason grunted, his face buried in your neck as he thrusted deep inside of you. The loud squelch of artificial wetness coming from between your thighs as he worked his hips, working you open with a needy, demanding pace. “Bet you love this cock, huh? Tell me how fuckin’ much you love it.” 
“Shut up.” 
The words came from your throat as a weak whimper, much less powerful than you had intended. 
You didn’t want to give him any more power than he already held over you - he had you weak and willing on his cock, something you would have never admitted could be true until it was happening in these moments. 
Though you would never admit it aloud, you loved the way he handled you. Having you pinned against the bed with his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips, having you breathless and moaning as he fucked into you with fast, obviously skilled strokes. Your nails cut into the flesh of his back, and he let out a low rumble from his gut as the sharp sting sent a wave of pleasure through him. 
You hated the twinge of lustful embarrassment that curled in your gut when he chuckled at your words. 
“Oh, you want me to shut up?” He asked, slightly breathless from the act himself, moving one hand beside your head to raise himself up slightly to look in your eyes. 
He was sweaty, disheveled, his hair a mess, his muscles taught with the effort as he continued to pound into you. You hated that you had imagined him much like this before, and that this outlived all of your fantasies. 
“Yes.” You fired back. “Just shut up and fuck me.” 
He bit his lip - something you didn’t know was him trying to hold back his orgasm, so utterly turned on by your bratty defiance, the twinge of a whimper in your voice as you said those words. 
“You weren’t tellin’ me to shut up when I was texting you.” 
He said, all hot breath fanning across your chin, his hips spearing forward in sharp, hard hits that made your skin smack loudly together. It made you work hard to suppress moans deep in your chest in a way that was painful, like venom inside your lungs. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of your sounds, of knowing just how good he was fucking you - even if he could see it written all over your pleasure twisted face. 
“You only begged for more when I was tellin’ you how I was gonna lay you on my bed. Take you apart… make you scream my name.” 
He reached his other hand from your hip to the point where you were joined. He began touching that tender place, making sharp, vicious strokes that were almost vengeful. Tears easily gathered in your eyes and he let out another chuckle when you choked on a deep, pleasurable wail. 
“Tell me, how many times did you touch yourself reading what I wrote?” 
He asked, leaning down to whisper the words right in your ear. 
“How many times did you cum thinking about me?” 
“I didn’t.” You choked out, digging your nails deeper into the skin of his back, causing him to grunt as the pain mixed with the pleasure flowing through him. 
“Sure, babe.” He smirked down at you, turning that look into something absolutely pavlovian that would forever make you feel his cock deep inside of you when you saw it, rather than feeling annoyed. 
Maybe from that point on, it was a bit of both. 
In an effort to shut him up, you reached up and claimed his lips. It was supposed to be a kiss, but it was mostly teeth. When you bit down on his bottom lip, snarling, he tasted blood and the way he moaned at the pain was absolutely unmistakable. It was something you remembered and used against him many times after that. 
… 
You wouldn’t allow yourself any room for self hatred when it came to that break in your self control. When it became an ongoing thing, you spun it as positive in your mind. 
It was just sexual release. You and Jason both needed it. It paired well with intense training and the heavy studying that Dick made you do. It lowered your stress levels a lot, and it helped you get through the day. 
The more time you spent around Jason, the more you got to know him, and the more you came to realize that he was nowhere near shallow. You easily saw that he was caring, deep, complex, troubled. The more time passed, you found yourself falling for him and the more you deeply denied it. Because it was just sex. 
Things were good between the two of you, and you knew that if you added anything else to the mix - any complicated, mushy feelings - you would fuck it up. 
You were especially reminded of this - how important it was not to fuck things up - just a day or so before every other force aside from you railed Titans Tower and began royally fucking things up. 
… 
It was a morning just like any other at Titans Tower. It was delightfully quiet - even though Dick demanded that everyone get up at ungodly early hours to begin training, you had somehow managed to wake up before everyone else and you were enjoying the peace it brought you. 
When you got up to see that Jason was already in the kitchen, standing at the counter as he munched on a bowl of cereal, you wanted to scorn the idea that your peace would be interrupted. But instead, you found yourself willfully suppressing a smile. 
You yawned and walked over to the counter, grabbing a bowl from one of the cupboards, thinking that cereal was just the right idea on his part. A deep frown cut through your face when you poured out the rest of the cereal box he had left on the counter, and a very measly amount fell into your bowl. 
“What kind of asshole only leaves three fucking cornflakes in the bottom of the box?” You scoffed, causing him to chuckle. 
“Learn to count, babe.” He told you, speaking with his mouth half-full. “That’s more than three.” 
You rolled your eyes. You were likely exaggerating - but still, it seemed rude to you to leave such a small portion, barely a handful, in the bottom of the box. 
“Or did I make you cum so hard last night that I knocked the common sense out of your head?” He added on, throwing you that signature smirk that made heat bloom between your thighs. 
You let out a sarcastic snort, giving him a purposefully disgusted grimace as you lifted the bowl up and dumped the remaining cereal into his portion instead. 
“You might as well take these.” You told him. “And don’t flatter yourself, you’re not that good.” 
You moved behind them, distracting yourself from the conversation by making a cup of coffee. 
“Oh really?” He perked up, rising to his full height, pure mischief in his voice. “It didn’t sound like it last night.” 
Much to your horror, he then began imitating your moans. 
“‘Oh, Jason! Oh, fuck me! More!’” 
It was a cartoonish, pornographic imitation, something he likely wouldn’t have done if the others were anywhere within earshot. Oddly enough, even though your relationship was casual, you still kept it guarded and private, as though it were some precious secret that needed to be kept from the others. 
“‘Jason, please, your dick is the best! Oh, make me cum!’” 
But that was the farthest thing from your mind as embarrassment curled in your stomach, the reaction he likely wanted to draw out of you. You hated that you didn’t truly know if it was accurate or not, because sometimes - yes, he did fuck your brains out and make you completely mindless on his cock. 
But you would never admit that he was right. 
“Shut up.” You sighed, causing him to dissolve into laughter, feeling as though he had won. 
But you wouldn’t simply leave it at that. 
Instead, as you pushed the button on the machine and your coffee began to drip, you turned around and gently placed your fingers on the side of his cereal bowl. You froze all the milk inside of it solid, making it into one large frozen chunk with the spoon stuck inside when he wasn’t looking - distracted, staring at your face, looking for any trace of the reaction that he had drawn out of you. 
You just glared, and he smirked once more. 
When he picked up the spoon again and went to take another bite, the entire bowl came with it. He sighed in defeat when he realized what you had done. 
“You know, it’s so damn annoying when you do that.” He sighed. 
“I know.” You grinned at him. 
He couldn’t help the butterflies that fluttered in his stomach at this. He resisted the urge to grab you by the sides of your head and steal the grin of your mouth with his own. He told you that it was out of annoyance, and not affection. He told himself those lines were most definitely not blurred when it came to you. 
… 
Confessing your feelings to Jason would not have been your choice. 
Given the choice, you would have let your feelings quietly live and die inside of you. You would have just kept Jason as a friend. You would have even dropped the amazing sex if it meant staying on good terms with him. 
But the stakes rose pretty quickly, and things were taken out of your hands. The choice was stolen from you and Jason entirely against your will. 
When you found out he was missing, supposedly kidnapped by Doctor Light on the heels of some misguided plan - something inside of you shattered. Up until that moment, if you thought it was just a stupid crush, or an infatuation inside of you that would easily fade with time - you quickly found out that you were wrong. 
You went through the stages of grief like a rocket. 
Denial. Staring at the door, waiting for him to walk inside at any moment. Just like you had back at the safehouse.
Anger. Being so pissed at Dick at the other older Titans that you could barely breathe. How had they let this happen to him? How could they make him feel so inadequate that he felt the need to go out on his own, half-cocked, clearly doing something in the name of looking for their approval? 
Bargaining. You would have traded places with him. You would have been the one, alone and scared and stranded if it meant that he got to be at home safe. You would have gone with him to carry out the stupid plan if he had only asked. Why hadn’t he asked you? 
Depression. You wept in your room, hands clasped over your face, letting out chest-shaking sobs as you thought of the possibility of him never returning home again. You realized the possibility of him dying was very real and it made your lungs burn. 
And then finally - Acceptance. You finally accepted that your feelings for him were something bigger, and if it meant that you were the only person in the Tower who truly cared about him (probably aside from Gar) - the only person who didn’t just see him as a pawn to be used against Deathstroke - then you had to do something about it. 
So you laid out your love for Jason. You put it all on the line for him. You accidentally confessed to him, showed your feelings in a gesture so quiet it screamed. 
You knew that for someone who stepped up to become Robin, someone who scorned cops for pummeling down on the innocent when they were supposed to be protectors - stepping up to try and save his life meant a love bigger than anything else you could have done. 
And he was terrified of it. There was a big justice in your love for him. And to him, there was an even bigger justice in giving you an out to escape it - to escape loving him.  
… 
Hectic. 
That was easily how you would describe the last few days at Titans Tower. 
Between the unexpected arrival of Rose - Dick taking on another stray because, like Rachel said, he couldn’t resist a bird with a broken wing. Finding out that she was related to one of the deadliest men on earth that the Titans apparently had previous history with. And then Jason going off on his own without telling you, some botched hostage trade, and the group picking up yet another stray - a strange boy who had saved Jason’s life. It was all a blur of hectic chaos that had you snapping your neck to keep up. 
Sleep was scarce and you couldn’t remember the last time you’d had a proper meal. 
But you weren’t truly worried about any of that. 
Dust had been kicked up around your life, and you couldn’t wait for it to settle before you made your next important decision. 
Even though the wounds were still tender, you knew that things were safe for now, and your number one concern was Jason. 
The minute he had gotten in the door, even though he was slightly hobbled and clearly sore from whatever Deathstroke had done to him, he rushed out of your sight. He was clearly eager to get away from everyone like a wounded animal sulking away to lick his wounds in peace. And when you had chased him, ignoring a nagging pain in your own side from the fight, he had slammed his bedroom door in your face, entirely uncaring of the fact that you called out his name, concerned for him. 
The rest of the group was distracted with Conner - not knowing what he had been shot with or how to fix it. You hated it, but in the eyes of the group, yet again, Jason and any of his problems fell to the back burner. 
After you had taken a short shower and changed your clothes, you found yourself here. Standing in front of Jason’s closed bedroom door, hoping not to face another cold rejection. 
You wondered if he would be sleeping, wondered if you should interrupt his peace. But you knew that sleep was unlikely after everything that had happened. 
So you took the leap. 
You raised a fist, once again pushing down that stinging pain coming from the right side of your stomach. You reasoned that it was probably nothing more than a bruise forming there. And you knocked on the door. 
A few moments later, the door was jerked open, and Jason glared at you. 
His eyes were dull and tired, and there was a large bruise forming on the side of his mouth. Probably one of many others that you couldn’t see, from the way he had been walking earlier. He likely hadn’t been sleeping, but you had disturbed him. 
“What the hell do you want?” He grumbled out, his voice dull, lacking any true fight. 
“I wanted to check on you.” You told him, entirely honest. “I know it might seem stupid, but I wanna see how you’re doing.” 
Jason scoffed and rolled his eyes. 
He wanted to agree that - yes, it was stupid. It should have been obvious how he was doing after being kidnapped, beaten, and dropped off a building. But he was an idiot who had gotten himself thrown headfirst into that mess, thinking he could handle it. And he didn’t need to go crying to you about how badly he had fucked up. He had made a poor choice and he deserved all of the consequences. It was a simple fact of life. 
“I’m doing just fine, thanks.” Jason said, entirely snide and sarcastic. “Look, I don’t need your help, okay? So fuck off.” 
It was a set of harsh, cutting words. But he thought getting distance from you would be best. This whole thing had woken him up from the sweet little fantasy the two of you had been participating in. He was a natural born fuck-up. And sure, he could have you for a while, play around a bit - but he could never truly make you happy. Eventually, he would fuck you up too. He was a harsh poison and it would be better if he got out of your life before you felt the full effects. 
He moved to shove the door closed and upon instinct, you reached up and fought him on it. Unconsciously, you winced as a sharp pain came from the injury in your stomach, reaching for it with your free hand as you held the door open with the other. It should have been no big deal. With your meta abilities, you usually healed quicker. You weren’t even used to feeling it when you got hurt. You were probably just feeling it worse because you were tired. 
You tried to ignore the pain. But in a moment, Jason’s eyes went wide with worry as his gaze darted from your face, knit with pain, to where your hand was nursing the injury. Any sense of smarmy discontent dropped from his features, immediately being replaced with a softness and worry for you. 
“You’re hurt.” He said quietly. 
He let the door fall open again, reaching for your hand to inspect the injury himself. 
“I’m fine.” You played the card this time, exchanging his lie for your own. 
It was an odd play. He had lied about not being so torn up inside, emotionally devastated as he was, and now you were lying about not being physically injured from the fight. The two of you made an odd, but perfectly matched pair. 
Jason barreled right past your words, and you were easily pliant to his touch as he removed your hand from the injury. You certainly were not expecting for him to find anything incriminating under your hand. But he glared at you when he found bright red spread across your palm, a glossy wetness leaking through your shirt. 
“You’re bleeding.” He grunted at you. 
Clearly, he was disappointed in the fact that you had neglected to bring this injury to the group’s attention. Pissed off at the fact that you weren’t in the medbay with Conner receiving some treatment right now. 
Maybe you could blame it on the chaos. Maybe you could blame it on the fact that with everyone so emotionally distraught, you didn’t want to be just another problem for everyone to fuss over. 
“Whoops.” You breathed out sarcastically. “I didn’t even notice.” 
That last part was honest. In all the adrenaline, all your worrying over whether or not Jason was going to live as you watched him dangle so high off the ground - you truly hadn’t paid any mind to the injury. 
“You didn’t-?” Jason huffed out in anger, but didn’t bother finishing the sentence. 
Perhaps he partially understood himself, knowing how the adrenaline from a fight could stamp out pain. Or perhaps he knew how truly stubborn you were and he didn’t want to waste his energy arguing with you. 
“You need this treated.” He added on. 
No matter how fucked in the head he was, he never wanted to see you hurt. That was something he would definitely waste his energy on - wearing down your stubbornness until you let him or someone else in the house take care of the injury properly. 
“Conner is worse off than I am.” You shrugged. “He needs the attention more.” 
“Then let me help you.” He said, an impatient nagging rising up in his throat. “Bruce gave me some first aid training. One thing that means I’m not totally useless.” 
The words made your chest ache for him, a pain that easily competed with the bleeding wound. 
“Jason-” 
You wanted to argue with him. You wanted to tell him he had infinite worth to you. 
But of course, he cut you off. 
“Just go sit on the bed.” He told you, quiet, but a firm command that you couldn’t ignore. 
He gently pushed past you, on a quest for some supplies to patch you up with. You then found yourself drifting into his room almost mindlessly, your hand clutching the wound again upon instinct. It was a place that you felt oddly at home. The nights you had spent in that bed since coming to Titans Tower, your head delightfully empty as he had fucked you hard and fast - they were by far your favourites. 
You would say it was because of the sex, and not just because you got to be wrapped up in Jason’s arms. Maybe everything had changed. Maybe your answers were different now. Maybe you were raw and tender and Jason wasn’t prepared to chase you in that devotion. 
But that was just the thing. With you and Jason, there was never any sense of devotion. You and Jason were always hard and fast. Teasing each other, verging on the edge of vengeful. It was a flame that burned intensely hot - but it was never anything soft. It was never anything that prompted you to knock on his door so late, wanting to check on his well being. It was nothing that prompted you to make chase to put your life on the line for him. 
Even just knowing that he had the intent to attend to your injury, called himself useful because of it - the thought cradled you like a warm blanket. It had you balancing on the edge of a dam holding back a barrage of feelings that you had been quelling down since the moment you had first put your lips on his.
“I told you to sit.” Jason’s voice came from behind you. 
He had raided the infirmary and now had a handful of supplies - luckily without anyone seeing him or questioning why. When you turned to him, he was closing the bedroom door behind him, sealing you both in with this newfound soft intensity, the tired lull of two people unwilling to hold back that softness anymore. It was entirely dangerous, and entirely life-saving at the same time; and neither of you realized it. 
“Since when do you get to boss me around?” You told him, your voice low and lacking any true spirit or sarcasm. 
It was in the same vein as the banter the two of you usually threw around - bickering about who was a bigger asshole, who was more stubborn, who was better in bed. 
You expected some kind of sexual comment in return. You could almost hear it now - he was the boss of you because he made you melt on his cock, made you mindless and dumb with it. 
But, no dice. 
The longer you stared at him, catching bits of the fresh pain swimming through those gorgeous blue eyes, you wished so badly for the mischief and sarcasm and light to come back and bite you the way that it used to. 
It only made your stomach churn harder at the whole situation. Things had officially changed between you and Jason. You had yet to find out if it was for the better, or for the painstakingly worse. 
Jason sighed through his nose. 
“You can be such an asshole sometimes.” He told you. Coming from him, and given the nature of your relationship, you knew it was almost a compliment. “Will you just sit down and let me help you?” 
Even though you were utterly terrified of the swelling of emotions you felt, bound to come to a head - you did. 
You sat on the edge of the bed and he placed the supplies beside you. 
When he mumbled out a quiet ‘lay back’, and you did, his cool fingertips at the hem of your shirt pulling it upward felt strangely more intimate than any other time you had been in this same position. It wasn’t heady, you weren’t granted the distraction of his mouth on yours and his tongue shoved between your lips while a harsh throbbing nagged between your legs.
This was quiet, and calm, and gentle. 
When you caught his eye above you as he wiped away the blood with some clean gauze, you saw nothing but pity and worry and sparkling affection for you. You almost dared to call it something as epic and dangerous as love, buried deep in his eyes. He worked with the most delicate touch, almost as if he was afraid to break you, before he glanced down and inspected the wound. 
His brow furrowed with even more intense worry, guilt nipping at his insides when he got a good look at it. 
“I think I see a bullet in here.” He told you, and then he moved around the bed and grabbed his phone, turning on the flashlight to have a better light to inspect it. You felt intensely naked, intensely caught when he began shining the light on your stomach with a harshly inquisitive look across his face. “Definitely something shiny. You got shot and you didn’t fucking tell anyone?” 
It was only then that you realized when you had gotten the wound - the exact moment clicking into place in your mind. 
“It was only a ricochet.” You argued quietly. “It’s not that bad.” 
Jason scoffed and rolled his eyes, and began sorting out his supplies, preparing to pull out whatever was lodged inside of you. 
… 
Dick explicitly told you to stay put. 
They only wanted the more experienced Titans, the Varsity squad on the case when dealing with Deathstroke. He blamed young naive incompetence as the reason Jason had gotten captured in the first place. You blamed him and Bruce pushing Jason out, making him feel like he needed so desperately to prove himself. But it was something Dick wasn’t ready to hear - an argument you weren’t going to have with the very stubborn team leader. 
Instead, you went for the silent route. You trailed the rest of them out of Tower, and when Dick strayed away from the rest of the group, his head on a swivel as he glanced back and forth, seemingly wanting to assure that none of the others were following him - you followed your gut instincts and went after him. 
You hid in the shadows and the moment that Deathstroke hit the button and those panels scrolled up, revealing Jason stranded on that scaffolding - you couldn’t help yourself. 
“Jason!” 
You screamed out his name, you leapt forward. 
Dick didn’t have time to scold you, not before the gunfire started. 
Kory came out of nowhere - seemingly, she had the same idea as you. Putting her life on the line for an emotionally repressed man that she hadn’t admitted her feelings for. But she was there because she was in love with the other Robin. (Or rather, a man who claimed over and over again that he wasn’t Robin.) 
Things quickly became a blur - flashes of flame as Kory fought, battling with the muzzle flashes from Deathstroke’s guns, limbs flying as they fought each other. You didn’t see it, but Deathstroke raised and aimed at you as you rushed toward the window, blindly going after Jason. In response, Dick charged forward, redirecting the gun as he pulled the trigger. You heard the sharp ‘ping’ sound of metal on metal - what you couldn’t see was the bullet hitting one of the metal beams in the ceiling. But you certainly felt it when it sliced into your side. 
At the time, it was nothing compared to the fear you felt for Jason. 
His eyes were wide with terror, and you could only focus on getting him to safety. You had no idea that a large part of his panic came from seeing you in the building. He had hoped that Dick would keep you away from all of this. But there you were, standing a few feet away from a man with a gun who was shooting around wildly. Jason would have delighted in being dropped off the building to his death if he had to see you get fatally shot when he could do nothing but squirm on the other side of the glass. 
You put two hands on the glass, banging on it - of course, it was no use. It was inches thick, meant to keep people from going through it at this height. Working entirely on instinct, you put your palms flat across it and began forming ice crystals over it, hoping to make it rigid and breakable if it was frozen. 
Once there was enough ice, you quickly looked around and spotted a metal pipe there for the in-progress construction of the building, so you grabbed it and rushed to smash the glass with it. You felt victorious as it shattered, and Jason flinched away from the shards, putting you one step closer to freeing him. 
Though the moment the glass was cleared, leaving the wind whipping around you, his first words of greeting to you were not celebratory. 
“What the hell are you doing here?” He barked at you, clearly angry with you. 
You felt a dull ache in your chest at this. You thought he might be relieved, happy, pleased. At the time, you couldn’t interpret his harsh reaction as worry for you possibly getting hurt. 
Nonetheless, you ignored his harshness. You would save him, whether he wanted to be saved or not. You draped your body through the window, reaching out to him. You made an effort to keep most of your weight planted on the floor of the building, in case the scaffolding wasn’t stable enough to hold two people at once. 
“What do you think?” You replied, pure sarcasm dripping through your voice as you reached behind Jason and began fiddling with the rope around his wrists. 
The position put the two of you in intensely close proximity. Jason caught a whiff of your unique scent, the shower gel you used that mingled with your body’s natural oils; and he felt so painfully at home. For the first time that night, he held back tears. He couldn’t help but to lean his forehead on your shoulder, taking comfort in having you so near after being on edge and terrified for so many hours. You resisted the urge to run a hand through his hair, to cradle him and give him further comfort. You forced yourself to focus on the task at hand - getting him to safety. 
Behind you, at the very back of the room, Dick and Deathstroke wrestled with the remote for the explosives attached to the scaffolding. 
Just as you managed to get Jason’s wrists freed, Deathstroke hit the switch, and the bombs went off. 
… 
You winced loudly as Jason dabbed at the wound with disinfectant. 
“I would say sorry… but, you’ll thank me later when this isn’t swollen and leaking puss.” He told you, throwing you a small smirk. 
It was smug. It was the usual kind of humor that he gave you. 
It was comforting to know that every trace of the Jason you knew hadn’t been stolen by Deathstroke. 
You held your breath as he pressed down with the medicine-covered gauze again, drawing much less of a reaction out of you this time. 
“Great mental image, Jay.” You replied, your voice dull. It lacked any of the true bite you wanted to deliver in response to him. “I’m sure it’s such a turn-on thinking about my puss.” 
It was meant to be a joke. But even unconsciously, it was an acknowledgement of that dangerous line - the line between truly caring and just using someone for sex. The line between having someone in your life as a body to get off with, and being so… homely with them. 
You and Jason were towing that line dangerously. It was a thread that you were balancing on, and it would either break, or you would cross to the other side and be forever bonded to him. 
Jason shrugged. “Maybe I don’t have to be turned on by you all the time.” 
There was more stuck in his throat. Another dangerous acknowledgement of that line. 
‘Maybe I just have to care.’ 
Both of you lulled into silence because neither of you dared to say it. 
After a few moments, Jason put down the gauze and hesitated to reach for the tweezers. He knew that pulling the bullet out would be painful, but inevitable. It was a lot like the state of your relationship with him. Break it off, and find happiness elsewhere, or acknowledge this big thing swelling to fruition between the two of you. Have Jason fuck it up eventually. Painful, but inevitable. 
“You shouldn’t have to be hurt like this.” Jason said quietly. “You shouldn’t have gotten hurt for my sake.” 
There it was again - words with a dangerous double meaning. 
You looked up at him, pure pain knit across his face, and for a moment he looked from the tweezers to you and he could hardly stand holding your gaze. 
‘It’s worth it.’ You wanted to say. ‘For you, I’d bear any pain.’ 
The words lived and died behind your eyes, and your tongue decided on something else entirely. 
“It’s nothing.” You told him. 
You downplayed the pain, pretending that the injury was only a minor inconvenience for you. And in the grand scheme of life, it was. With time, it would heal. Losing Jason would be something you’d never heal from. 
Jason shook his head at this statement. 
He forced himself to reach for the tweezers then. He handed you his phone, a silent agreement that you would hold the light as steady as you could. He knew you well, too well, and he knew that you needed something else to focus on to push away the pain. He put his free hand on the plush of your stomach, pulling back slightly to hold the wound open while you held the light on it. 
When the sharp metal of the tweezers breached your wound, you wanted to swear. You wanted to call him an asshole as the pain shot through you. You wanted to scold him for leaving the Tower and being kidnapped in the first place. But you knew that even if it was playful or sarcastic, fueled by the bite of your pain, it was not what he needed to hear right now. So instead, you held your breath, and gripped his phone hard, keeping the light steady as you bared the sharp shocks of pain. 
After a moment of digging around that felt like an eternity, he pulled out the fragment and held it up to show you as you collapsed back against the bed, panting with tears stinging the edges of your eyes. 
“It’s not nothing.” He declared sharply. 
You couldn’t conjure a response. You knew he was right. And you didn’t want to be forced to admit it. 
Instead, you turned off the light from his phone and relaxed into the bed, closing your eyes as he walked around to the trashcan and threw out the bullet fragment. It fell into the bottom of the plastic wastebasket with a very small ‘ping’ - making you wonder how something so small could cause so much trouble. 
Jason quickly returned to you, dabbing more disinfectant into the wound in a way that made you groan and flex away from the touch. Once again, he did not apologize. 
There were a few moments of muddy silence with nothing but your slightly labored breathing, trying to contain your sounds of pain so as to not make him feel any further guilt about the whole incident. 
Your mind churned, and you couldn’t help the next words that came from your mouth. 
“I meant what I said.” You told him. 
At the sound of this, his hands immediately stilled. You felt his eyes on you, and you forced yourself to open your own and look up at him once again. He stared you down with intense examination. He looked for any ounce of falsity, any sign that you were lying, even posturing to make him feel better after everything that had happened. 
He didn’t find any. 
You thought he might acknowledge you, that he might say something back to return your mighty words. Instead, he simply reached for more gauze, and began putting a final bandage on your wound. 
… 
The explosion caused a sharp rattle through your ears. It shocked you and made you dizzy and put the whole world off-kilter. The only thing you could perceive past the mind-numbing hum in your brain was the feeling of Jason’s rough glove gripping tightly onto your wrist, so you gripped back as hard as you could. 
When you blinked open your eyes, you were half-hanging out of the open window, the edge of the floor cutting into your waist as you held onto Jason by nothing but his wrist. His whole body weight created a harsh burn, straining on the muscles in your shoulder as you watched him dangle hundreds of feet above the street. 
Panic flooded you. 
You scrambled to reach out with your other hand, and the moment you moved, your shirt slipped against the sleek, polished material of the floor and you began sliding out the window. You gasped and Jason stilled his panicked flailing immediately. 
“Don’t move!” He shouted. 
“Give me your other hand so I can pull you up!” You shouted back. 
Beyond the unpleasant hum of your eardrums rattling, you still heard chaos behind you. Gunshots, the grunts of fighting, Kory and Dick’s voices yelling. They were busy with Deathstroke, they couldn’t help you or Jason. 
Jason looked up at you with glassy eyes. 
He knew that with all his gear weighing him down, even with the training you had been doing, you wouldn’t be able to pull him up. Not by yourself. And if you weren’t careful, his body weight would just pull you out of the window and cause you to go tumbling down to your death along with him. 
When you saw that frown etch across his lips, that filthy look of dawning - you glared at him. 
“Give me your other hand!” You screamed, your voice raking across your throat like hot coals. A hot boiling rage at the fact that he seemed almost determined to die. 
There was one thing he was determined about. If he was going to die, he wasn’t going to take you down with him. 
His gloved wrist started to slip from your nervous, sweaty palm, and you tried hard to hold on tight. You formed large shards of ice, hoping you could create some kind of bond there by freezing your hand to his. But it would only be temporary with gravity trying to tear the two of you apart. 
“You have to drop me, Y/N.” He said, nothing but pure mourning on his lips. “I’m dead weight.” 
You both knew it was a horrendous double meaning. 
He thought he was a dead weight to your life. 
“No!” You immediately defied this thought, that feral rage ripping at your throat once again. “I’m gonna pull you up. I’m gonna pull you up!” 
You reached your other hand down and tightly wrapped both of your hands around his wrist, yanking upward. The harsh movement caused you to slide even further out the window. You were now dangling dangerously over San Francisco with only the thickness of your thighs giving you any real stability on the intensely high up floor. It made you dizzy, and the only thing you had to focus on were the wet wells of Jason’s eyes staring up at you. 
“It’s no use!” Jason said tearfully. 
You ignored him. 
You cast your chin over your shoulder, and began shouting. 
“Help me!” You screamed, trying desperately to get the attention of Dick or Kory. “Help me! Fuck!” 
“You have to let go.”
Jason’s words immediately shifted your focus back to him. 
But of course, you refused. 
“I’m not letting go of you!” You declared sharply. “Not that easily.” 
As he stared up at your tearful eyes, he knew that you meant it as more. 
Unfortunately, it was the one thing he was terrified of. 
He thought that you saw him as some shiny perfect thing, something good and worth having in your life. He thought that you were incapable of seeing the poison, the true fuck-up that he was. If you didn’t let go of him, sooner or later, just like everyone else in his life, you were going to get burned. 
So Jason did what he had to do. 
He began prying your fingers off his wrist, trying his best to keep you stable while he forced himself from your grip. 
“No!” You shrieked. “No, no, no-” 
You didn’t have much room to fight him about it without falling out of the window yourself. 
You made a move to readjust, to get a tighter grip on him - and it was the one deadly move that caused him to slip out of your touch completely. 
You were forced to watch on in chest clenching horror, blinking through heavy tears as he began hurtling toward the ground. 
… 
If not for Conner - a literal miracle - swooping in and saving Jason at the last second, then you would have spent the rest of your life regretting those moments, wondering what you could have done differently to save him. 
When Jason finished taping down the bandages, making sure the wound was clean and secure, he laid his palm flat on top of it. It was a kind of ‘kissing it better’ that instantly spread warmth curling through your gut. It was a touch so incredibly tender - especially compared to the heated, aggressive groping you were used to from him - that it caused a whimper from the back of your throat. 
You knew it was unlikely, but you hoped that he hadn’t heard it. 
“All done.” He said quietly. 
You instantly felt regret when he took his hand away and began tidying up the medical supplies. But you forced yourself to sit upright, now feeling only muscle soreness and a much duller pain coming from the area. You felt intensely thankful for his care as you pulled your shirt back down, righting your clothes back into place. 
“You’re free to go now.” Jason told you, his voice still low, as though a single decibel would shatter the delicate peace between the two of you. 
You felt your heart sink. 
In an instant, you understood what it was - he was concerned about your physical wellbeing, but he didn’t actually want to have you around. Just like his reaction to you showing up at the hostage exchange - he didn’t want your presence there. 
You heaved a sigh and got off the bed as Jason busied himself with gathering up the used gauze to throw it away. As you put your hand on the doorknob, you couldn’t quite bring yourself to leave. 
It was something else. 
It had to be something else. 
Jason hadn’t let himself drop off a building in some desperate ploy just to get away from you. He had been trying to save you. 
He was so utterly willing to give his life for yours. 
And now he was trying to back down from that. 
You turned and faced him, leaving the door closed. When he turned from ditching things in the wastebasket, he froze. He was entirely surprised that you were still there.
The two of you locked eyes, both staying still - like a predator and prey locked in a stalemate, wondering who would run first. 
In this situation, you weren’t sure who was the prey. 
You were both so vulnerable. 
Jason thought it would be selfish to get caught up in all of this, to finally admit those dangerous feelings he had for you. When he cared for things, he usually ended up breaking them. Of course, it was never on purpose - he was an idiot. Everything he touched, he fucked up. He had made that more than evident with his last braindead plan, the outing to prove that he was worthy of being Robin. Something that had gotten you shot, probably could have gotten you killed. 
If you stuck with him any longer, you probably would end up being killed. And he would never forgive himself for that. 
He would be better off ripping himself from your hold, as much as it hurt. Giving you a dose of that heartbreak now so that you could get over him and go after better things. 
As you stared at Jason, you could see all the pain boiling underneath his surface. You wondered what he was thinking, what the hell he was churning over in that intense brain of his - but you didn’t dare to ask. 
You knew that he needed to be held right now - in every sense of the word. You knew that he needed to be cared for the way he had cared for your wound, pushing past the pain in order to heal. You wondered if he would lay down and bear it or if he would continue to fight you. 
You were the one to bravely step forward. Though Jason was tempted to ask you to leave, that thing inside of him yearning to marinate in his isolation because he deserved it, he pushed it down. He let his hands naturally come to sit on the plush comfort of your waist as you put a gentle touch on both his shoulders, leaning into his body ever so slightly. 
You laid your forehead on his cheek, right next to that ugly bruise that had been left on him, and he let out a contented sigh as he felt your warmth envelope him. For the first time since his feet had touched the ground, he felt calm. He felt safe. 
You smoothed a hand across his shoulder, and raised your head, using your touch to gently tip his face toward yours. He quickly realized that your intention was to kiss him. And something ached in his heart - something painful and longing. He knew that it would not be needy and haste with the intention of pile-driving toward sex like your other kisses had been. He knew that it would be the metamorphosis of your relationship that he was not prepared to go through. 
He nuzzled along your forehead, gently stopping you. 
“Please don’t do this.” He murmured quietly into your skin. 
He knew that it would break him. 
He knew that this was the moment - like Gatsby reaching up toward the stars - this would be the moment that he was tied to you forever, damned by his love for you. Only, much different than Gatsby, he wasn’t destined for some grant fate if he didn’t have you. He was on a one way path to a messy death, and he was determined not to take you down with him. 
Tears pricked the edges of his eyes at the thought. 
You pulled back, just enough to properly look him in the eyes, and your own tears formed when you saw that pathetic puppy dog looking back at you. 
“Why not?” You demanded, much sharper than you intended. You knew he was fragile and you didn’t want to upset him any further than he already was. 
“You know why.” He replied, his voice barely scraping above a whisper as the emotion clutched at his throat. 
Jason wanted to hold onto you forever, but he was also a realistic person. He expected that any minute now, you would rip away from his arms and charge out the door, entirely angry with him, and this would finally be over. You would finally be safe from him - safe from any nasty fate his life could conjure up for you. 
You hated what he was asking of you - asking you not to care for him anymore. As if you could somehow switch it off. Impossible. 
“I meant what I said.” You repeated yourself, still entirely firm in this conviction. “I’m not gonna let you go that easily.” 
You leaned in, planting your lips on his in a light kiss. A pained sigh ripped through you when he didn’t make any moves to kiss you back. 
“Jason, please.” You whimpered out desperately. “If you get to bandage my bullet wound, then I get to do this.” 
Jason wanted to spell it all out for you, plain and dirty. He wanted to get angry, he wanted to scream. He wanted to rush along the inevitable. He wanted to tell you what a poison he was to the world, that he deserved to die and you deserved better things. But he had the utmost feeling that you wouldn’t listen. 
“Please, stop pushing me away.” You whispered against his lips. 
Instead, he listened to your plea. He let himself indulge in this selfish softness for once. 
He reached up and grabbed your jaw, pulling you into a firmer kiss, declaring every ounce of passion and terror that he was feeling in those moments. You answered it all right back - digging your fingers into the shoulders of his shirt, letting out a hot huff against his cheek as you leaned into his body. 
He would never be perfect - but he was yours.
...
Final note: yes, I used to be @/pinkchubbiebunnie. That is still my username on AO3, so if you saw this fic posted on there, it is my fic. Please do not accusing me of plagiarising fics if you see this, because this is my own fic. This is my new blog. Feel free to follow me if you’re interested in my fanfiction and thoughtful discussions of the media that I enjoy.
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mymoodwriting · 9 months
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26.7k, yandere, illegal activities, racer car driving, speeding, drinking, avoiding authorities, alcohol, drunk behavior, medication, drugs, needles, amnesia, smut, gang bang, female penetration, fingering, unprotected sex, handjob, cum play, cream pie, birth control pills, bruising, undercover operation, criminal acts, robbery, kidnapping, manipulation, verbal abuse, near dead experience, car accident, interrogation, restraints, lies, deceit, deja vu (@starillusion13)
I know you get deja vu...
    Opening your eyes felt strange, as if you had been sleeping for days and were finally waking up. You took in a soft breath, seeing an unfamiliar environment. Your senses slowly came to, and you heard the beeping of a machine. You lazily looked over, seeing what appeared to be a masked doctor checking an IV drip, intending to add something to it. Your eyes slowly followed the line until you found the needle, feeling it sticking out of your arm.
“… what…”
“Hm, you’re awake?”
“Am… am I… in a hospital?” You looked around. “What happened?”
“Uh… what’s the last thing you remember?”
“My head… it’s fuzzy… wait, what day is it?”
“It’s Sunday.”
“Okay, I didn’t miss classes…”
“It’s summer though.”
“Huh? No, it’s… what’s the date?”
     You needed to hear the date twice, not wanting to believe what you were hearing. Because if it was true, then there was a six month gap in your memory. 
“Do you really not remember the last six months?”
“What happened…”
    You looked up at the person with you, on the verge of breaking down in panic. You were so scared and confused when suddenly a familiar face came into the room.
“Y/n!”
“Chan!”
    The tears spilled out when Chan came over to hug you tight. Even if you didn’t understand what was going on, having him here brought you relief. You weren’t alone anymore. He let you cry until you exhausted yourself, completely ignoring the other person in the room as they left, not even asking for them to get the doctor. At the moment he was just glad you were alive and awake.
“Chan… Chan, what’s going on?” You sniffled. “What happened?”
“You don’t remember?”
“No… but the other person… what’s the date…”
“Y/n, what-”
“I’m missing six months… my memory… what’s happening?”
“Easy, just take it easy, everything’s going to be alright.”
    You had so many questions, but Chan insisted on getting a doctor first to look you over and make sure everything was alright. That’s when you learned how you wound up in the hospital. You had been in a car accident, a bad one as it had flipped over and rolled. You were found unconscious, upside down and buckled into the driver’s seat of the car. Now you were starting to feel all your wounds. The bruises and cuts that decorated your skin, not to mention the whiplash and head injuries. You were lucky nothing had broken, except your mind apparently. The head trauma is most likely what cause the amnesia. Theoretically you should regain your memories, but there was no way to know for sure.
“What happened, Chan?”
“I don’t know. You were driving alone late at night on an empty street. There’s no CCTV to look at, so no one knows what happened to you that night. Only you do, but you’ve forgotten.”
“So I have to remember…”
“You don’t. You’re alive, that’s all that matters. It’s probably best if you don’t remember that horrible night anyway.”
“Chan.”
“Hm?”
“Six months ago I was in school. If I don’t remember I’d basically have to retake a whole semester.”
“Are you seriously worried about that right now?”
“Kinda… all that tuition money…  just down the drain… not to mention my education…”
Chan scoffed. “I cannot believe that’s your biggest concern right now. How about you focus on your recovery first.”
“But-”
“Look, I’ll take care of everything, including you.”
“Me?”
“You think I’m just gonna drop you off at your apartment when you get discharged? You’ll stay with me until I deem you fit to be on your own again.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“Did you already forget how you wound up in the hospital? You were driving alone in the middle of the night!”
“I…”
“I’m sorry.” Chan quickly apologized. “I didn’t mean to scold you or anything like that… I just don’t want you on your own anymore, at least until I’m sure you’ll be alright.”
“I get that… thank you… and I’m sorry too…”
“For what?”
“I can’t imagine the kind of worry I put you through.”
“Yeah, you have no idea, but I’m just glad you’re safe now.”
    You had been unconscious for about three days, having been rushed into emergency surgery upon your arrival. Chan had been staying with you all this time, only stepping out to get food or take a call to keep the others updated. Now that you were up and doing well you could properly start your recovery process. You stayed in the hospital for a little over a week, and then got discharged into Chan’s care. He took you to his place. His loft that you were thankfully still familiar with. There were a few new things though, but you couldn’t explore much until you were better on your feet. So until then Chan attended to your every need, even when you protested. Although he tended to disappear at night, for work.
    You wanted to ask about that. A lot changed in six months, but you were certain he didn’t want to talk about it, so you waited. Once you were good on your feet, you kept it to yourself. So one night when Chan put you to bed and went out, you got up and went into one of the other rooms. It wasn’t his bedroom, but his office. Six months ago it had been mostly empty. A few papers hung on the wall, some basic points written on the whiteboard, and some question marks over some silhouettes. Now nearly every inch of the wall was covered with reports, or newspaper clippings, or hand written notes. Although there was a new question on the whiteboard.
“Who are the Black Pirates?”
    Eight pieces of red string led from the question to eight headshot silhouettes. Christopher Bang was your childhood friend who had grown up to become a cop, and Chan was the name he had taken upon going undercover. You probably shouldn’t be here, a part of his fake life, but you didn’t want him to be alone. Besides it wouldn’t hurt to have some piece of his real life around, something to keep him grounded and remind him who he really was deep down. Six months ago he was just getting started, having recently gathered up a team and making his way into the illegal street racing scene. From all the information on the wall, the operation was still going, but you weren’t sure if there had been progress. So while you had the chance you looked around, seeing what he had been up to all this time.
“Y/n, what are you doing in here?”
“Uhm?”
    You woke to the sound of Chan’s voice, slowly lifting your head off the desk. It seemed you had fallen asleep at some point during all the reading.
“What time is it?”
“Like five in the morning.”
“And you’re barely getting home?”
“What are you doing in here?”
“Just some light reading…”
“Why.” 
    Chan went over to you, grabbing the papers you had been sleeping on. You merely yawned and rubbed the sleep from your eyes.
“I was just curious. Last I remember you had just begun this whole operation.”
“If you had questions you could have just asked.”
“And would you have answered me properly?”
“…”
“I thought so.”
Chan sighed. “You know this is meant to be top secret information, right?”
“That you just leave splayed out like this where anyone could see.”
“Not just anyone knows where I live. Nor could they get in so easily.”
“Touché.” You looked over at the whiteboard. “You’ve made some progress though. I guess the Black Pirates are an eight member gang.”
“In theory.”
“Theory?”
“There could be members that don’t go out on the field, or members that only participate in gang activities. All we know is that when it comes to committing crimes, the Black Pirates are seen as an eight member gang. At least that’s been consistent the last few months.”
“And you have no idea who it could be?”
“I might have a group of suspects.”
“Oh, who?”
“It’s just a gut feeling, nothing more.”
“So, no real progress then?”
“If it was that easy to catch them I wouldn’t need to go undercover.”
“Right… how are the others?”
“Good, and happy to know you’re alright too.”
“Tell them I said hi, and to come visit me.”
“I’ll relay the message. Now you should go back to bed.”
“Fine.”
    You got up and stumbled a bit, your legs still asleep, but Chan insisted on walking you back to your room. You slept in until Chan woke you to eat breakfast, and then you went back to sleep for a bit more. Now that you weren’t bedridden you could start catching up on things. First off you needed a new phone, as yours got destroyed in the crash. Chan had already prepared one for you and added your old contacts. Everyone you messaged was glad to hear from you, having been getting updates from Chan beforehand. You made sure to thank him for all he had done.
    Since you were talking with friends again, you brought up last semester and started looking into your academic record. Chan still didn’t want you on your own, so he brought over some of your school things. You had passed your previous classes, and by looking over at your notes it seemed you understood the material well. Everything felt kinda hazy, but you figured you could continue with your planned classes for next semester without worry. Besides, Chan promised to cover your tuition for the next year, along with any other expenses so you didn’t feel like you were wasting money. 
    He still didn’t like the idea of you regaining your memories, but he was going to support you and your choices.So you slowly began to live your life again. It was a bit difficult adjusting to the sudden time change, but you managed well. Once you were in a better condition you decided to meet up with friends, do a bit of catching up, but it was all mostly from them. You kinda felt bad, hearing all these stories and not being able to remember them. It kinda created this distance between you and your friends. You had fallen behind, and you weren’t entirely sure you could catch up. You didn’t say any of this out loud, but it weighed heavy on your mind. You wanted to remember, but you also understood why Chan didn’t.
    You had gotten into a horrible accident. All you knew about it was what you had been told, and the injuries you were recovering from. Chan didn’t let you look at any of the crime scene photos, and he had already asked your friends not to bring up the subject or engage. Truth was you probably should have died that night, but you didn’t. So if you remembered what happened, you’d have answers, but you’d also relive that fear and pain. Maybe it was best to just move on and figure out your life without those six months, but something was also nagging at you from that forsaken void.
    One night you had made your way into Chan’s office again, not seeing anything new. You felt bad. All these months and he hadn’t made any real progress. Now you knew undercover work could take years, but you still wanted to help in any way you could. Chan had been working for months, but for you it felt like just yesterday he had started, and just yesterday he was a different person. You hadn’t mentioned it to him, but you knew he had changed. You couldn’t be sure if your accident was the reason, but Chan wasn’t the same person you remembered. He was a lot more cold and serious, even to you. It seemed like he was trying not to be, but it was a part of him now.
    While you stared at all his work you found something new on the desk. A sticky note with an address scribbled on it. You typed it into the internet, and going by the location, it seemed to be where the illegal street racing was going down. It was probably a bad idea, but you were curious to see what Chan’s work environment looked like. So you got dressed, finding something you felt was appropriate for the occasion. You caught a taxi, having it drop you off near the area, and then going your own way. For a moment you thought you were wrong and had just come out to a rather deserted area where you were surely in danger, but then you heard it. The sounds of rubber on the pavement, the smell of alcohol in the air, and the wild cheering of the crowds of people gathered for the show.
    This area was out of sight, and a good distance from the main roads, yet it had its own racetrack, perfect for illegal street racing. Firstly you were relieved to see your clothes matched the event, so you wouldn’t stick out like a sore thumb. Although there were other ways to get noticed. You made your way into the crowd, looking around at the people, trying to find Chan. Not to get caught, but to know where he was and avoid him. Not to mention the rest of his crew. They’d surely tell on you if they saw you in a place like this. So you kept your eyes open and your ears sharp, picking up on as much information as you could. A race had just ended, and another was soon to begin. You were curious to see, so you tried making your way to the front, but that seemed impossible because of the crowds.
“What are you doing here?”
    You froze, thinking you had been caught, but the voice wasn’t all that familiar. So you slowly turned around, instantly relieved to see it wasn’t Chan or his crew, but someone else. They stared at you curiously, but also intrigued, and it was starting to make you a bit uneasy. Although there was something else about him too.
“Uh, what are you talking about?”
“You don’t look like you belong here.”
“Oh… is it that obvious?” 
The man chuckled. “You can say that.”
“Huh… well I was honestly just looking for a friend of mine…”
“I’m sure you were. Who are they? Maybe I know them.”
“I don’t know… does the name Chan ring a bell?”
“The leader of Stray Kids, of course. His crew is racing next, going up against The Boyz.”
“You know him?”
“He’s a good racer, but you’re not gonna find him out here. Come on, I’ll take you to him and give you a better show.”
“Uh…”
“Don’t be shy. I know you’re not the type.”
    Without waiting for a response the man took your hand and pulled you along. His grip was firm, so you couldn’t really pull yourself free. Besides he didn’t seem all that bad, so you figured you should at least see where this would go. He led you away from the crowds and over to a chained off area, like a VIP section. There seemed to be bouncers around, but they let him and you pass through without issue. Next thing you knew you were surrounded by cars, seeing all kinds, and watching the people around show them off.
“Ya, Wooyoung, what do you have there?”
“Look who I found!”
    Wooyoung, as you had discovered his name, brought you before what you assumed to be his friends. There were seven other guys, and four cars present. Now you understood where you were. This was where all the racing crews gathered and hung out in between races.
“Yeah, I bet you found them.” One of the others approached, watching you closely. “Nice to see you. What are you doing here?”
“She’s looking for her friend, Chan.”
“Ah, Chan of Stray Kids, and does he know you’re here?”
“No…”
“That’s rude, isn’t it? You’re friends and he won’t even invite you to his races.”
“He just worries about me.”
“I bet. Yet you came all on your own.”
“Yeah…”
“Interesting… oh, where are our manners, we haven’t properly introduced ourselves. My name is Hong-”
“Y/n!”
    That voice you did recognize, and hearing your name called out so harshly made you wince. You slowly looked back to see Chan storming his way over to you, the anger on his face clear as day. He grabbed your arm and yanked you away from the other. Before you could say anything to defend yourself he cut you off.
“You think this is funny?”
    You didn’t really know what he meant by that, until you realized he wasn’t talking to you. He was staring down at the guy you had just been speaking to, making you wonder why he’d be mad at them. The other just laughed, and the rest of his crew was chuckling too.
“Honestly, I find this hilarious, and oh so very intriguing.”
“Stay away.”
“Is that a threat?”
“It’s your one and only warning.”
    Chan walked off and tugged you along. You didn’t even say goodbye to the others, but it was probably best you didn’t speak. So you didn’t ask where Chan was taking you, or how he found you, or what that whole scene back there had been about. You wound up over with his crew. They all seemed confused by your presence but greeted you nonetheless, not asking questions. Especially not as Chan told Minho to race in his place, and you were shoved into the passenger side of his car. Chan put your seat belt on for you and slammed the door shut. Now you were sure he was mad at you. Still, you didn’t say anything until you were on the road, an empty road, and you were certain this wasn’t going home.
“Uh… Chan, where are we going?”
    He didn’t answer you, instead hitting the gas. You watched as the speed increased, making you grab your seat belt. Your heart was already pounding, filling your ears, and your head began to hurt.
“Chan…”
“…”
“Chan, slow down, you’re scaring me…”
“…”
“Chan!”
“…”
“CHAN!” 
    He slammed on the breaks and the car swerved to the side. Once it came to a stop you took off your seat belt and got out of the car, falling to your knees as you caught your breath. A moment later Chan got out of the car, glancing your way and leaning against the hood. He sighed and looked up at the night sky.
“That was dangerous, wasn’t it?”
“What is wrong with you!?” You screamed. “Why the hell did you do that!?”
“Cause… this is where it happened…”
“What?”
“Where you got run off the road.”
“Run off…” 
    You looked around, seeing the empty street. You had been told you were driving alone at night on an empty road with no CCTV, and that something happened that caused you to flip over. No other details were shared, until now it seems.
“What do you mean? How would you…”
“There were three different tire marks on the road, and your car had a few impact points. Suggesting, or confirming, you weren’t out here alone.”
“So it wasn’t an accident… but more of a hit and run… why didn’t you tell me? Why are you telling me now?”
“Because I’m not doing this again.”
“What-”
“Chan, please answer your goddamn phone!”
    You were still somewhat processing when you heard your own voice. You looked over to see Chan holding up his phone, playing back some recording of you, probably a voicemail. He couldn’t even look at you, eyes shut and head bowed as the message played.
“When you get this, please call me back immediately. You were right, okay? Shit was dangerous and… I fucked up, but it was an accident! I didn’t… shit, they caught up to me…”
    You could vaguely make out the sound of a car engine in the recording, two, hearing them get louder as they got closer. You sounded panicked, and started screaming when your car got hit.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck… Chan, I’m sorry… I know you told me to stay out of it… it’s my fault alright… please just call me back so I can tell you everything… I don’t know long I can do this… the Black Pirates-”
    Everything cut out as you heard the sound of a crash, and then the recording came to an end. Chan took in a breath as he put his phone away, and you could see the pain on his face.
“That… that was…”
“You were desperately trying to call me that night and I couldn’t answer the fucken phone in time…”
“So, the Black Pirates… they’re the ones that attacked me… but I don’t-”
“Six months ago you followed me to a race, and you made friends with the other crews. I told you to go home and stay out of my work but you insisted on helping me. I foolishly let you, but I didn’t know how deeply you had gotten involved… I don’t know what you were doing that night, or who you were with, or where… but I’m guessing you figured out who the Black Pirates were, and they figured out who you were too…”
“So I know who they are… or at least I did…”
“You almost died that night y/n, and I’m not putting you in danger again. So please, stay out of this.”
“I know who the Black Pirates are… so if I remember-”
“No!”
“But I can help, I-”
“What did I just say? I don’t want your help, I never should have let you in the first place. I’ll find those bastards and make them pay. There’s no reason for you to put yourself through that night again just for the sake of remembering them. That is if you actually know who they are. For all we know, you were getting close or they caught you in a lie and they chased you down for that alone.”
“I’m sorry…”
“I’m the one who should be apologizing… I shouldn’t have put you in danger… I’m sorry…”
“I made you worry a lot…”
Chan scoffed. “Yeah… yeah you did…”
“Sorry…”
“Just promise me you won’t follow me again, that you won’t get mixed up in that shit again.”
“I won’t… I promise… I’ll just stick to school, alright?”
“That’s good.”
    You took in your surroundings a bit more before Chan said he’d drop you off back at his place. You apologized for interrupting his night, but he admitted he felt relieved in telling you the truth. That way you knew to stay out of his work, and he could rest assured knowing you were safe. When he dropped you off you playfully wished him good luck, and told him to get back safe. Once back in the loft you went into his office, looking at these things one more time and your eyes landed on the whiteboard, staring at the question.
“Who are the Black Pirates?”
    You knew the answer, in theory, somewhere deep down, but it wasn’t worth looking for. Things were better off this way, and now you felt more certain focusing on your life, on your future, than looking into the past. You walked out of the office and shut the door behind you. It was scary to think you had gotten involved in such dangerous things, that you almost died, so you certainly had a new appreciation for life. If only that danger didn’t come back to find you.
    Before the new semester began you gave yourself a bit of a refresher course on your previous semester classes, especially those that had been vital to the advancement of your academic career. Your friends even helped as well to make sure you were prepared. Although they all assured you, including Chan, that if you couldn’t handle the classes, there was no shame in dropping out and retaking the others. You stayed positive, but thanked them for their support. You were nervous on your first day, but that was just syllabus day and getting to know what to expect of the class. It all seemed manageable, and you had previous notes to look over if necessary. 
    Since much wasn’t going on yet your friends suggested going out for drinks to celebrate the beginning of the semester, and make wishes for the future. You were more than happy to attend. It’d be another thing to get your life back on track. So you showered and got dressed for a night of drinking and fun. You started off at a bar before going to continue the party at a karaoke place. You all sang your heart out, and once you were a good amount of alcohol in you all began to wind down. You all held your glasses up and made a wish for the future, whether it was for the semester or for life, but you all cheered each other on and wished for the best. 
    Definitely time to go home though, and you all sent each other off. You had called for a driver beforehand, so you messaged them to meet up with you to take you home. You waited outside the karaoke bar, dancing and singing to yourself, not as drunk as your friends but rather tipsy. You checked your phone when you were suddenly tapped on the shoulder. A nice boy smiled and bowed at you, asking if you were the lady who had called for a driver. You said yes and made sure to check everything to assure he was in fact your driver. He could see you were unsteady on your feet and made sure to hold you close.
“You know… you look kinda familiar… do I know you?”
The man chuckled. “I guess not.”
“What’s your name?”
“Yunho.”
“Hm…Yunho… pretty…”
    He opened the door for you and made sure you were alright in the back. He was a good driver too, making sure not to make you sick. Even if you were intoxicated you had enough awareness to notice he was going the wrong way. You had probably given him your apartment address without realizing.
“Excuse me, but you’re actually going the wrong way.”
“Am I?”
“Yeah, my bad, I must have given you the wrong address earlier.”
“No problem, so where am I taking you?”
    Yunho was very understanding and apologized for the confusion. When you got to the loft he helped you out of the car and took you up to your place, opening the door for you too. Chan wasn’t home, out working again, so you weren’t worried about him catching you like this, probably wouldn’t approve of it either. You thanked Yunho for everything he had done, especially all the extra bits to make sure you got home safe.
“Really, thank you.”
“Just part of the job.”
“But you did more than necessary.”
“It’s no big deal. Sleep well.”
“Thanks, and get home safe.”
“Will do. Goodnight.”
“Night.”
    Your classes had their difficult moments, but that was always to be expected. You were doing well overall, so you could continue with your life as normal, focusing on your studies. Sometimes you would glance at Chan’s office, wondering if there was any progress, but you promised yourself you wouldn’t ask. To give him peace of mind and keep yourself safe. Now that you were back in school and doing well, you talked with Chan about returning to your apartment. He was reluctant, but understood that you were your own person, and had your own life outside of him. It was kinda weird returning to your apartment. Things had changed, but those changes were decisions you made, even if you didn’t remember. 
    It kinda wasn’t your own place, but it was. So when you had some time you’d move things around again, trying to be comfortable. Your life was soon back on track, and it felt like nothing had ever happened. Everything seemed fine. Chan still kept in touch with you, and assured you everything was alright on his end. You were doing well in class, no longer feeling like you were behind with your friends. Things were moving forward, and yet that’s when the past began to haunt you. It all started with a simple headache in class. You thought it was normal but it only got worse. So your friends took you to the hospital.
“Have you been trying to remember your accident?” The doctor asked. “Or recover any memories from the past.”
“No… my life is doing well without those six months… so there’s no point. Why?”
“Usually headaches suddenly coming on in such a manner are related to regaining memories. Have you remembered anything?”
“No… not really…”
“Do you want to?”
“I’m not trying.”
“I see. It’s been a few months since your accident, so it’s possible the memories are coming back on their own.”
“Oh… there’s no way to prevent that… is there?”
“Memories, and the way the mind functions, still have their mysteries. All I can do is prescribe you some medication to help ease the headaches. Take them as needed.”
“Thanks.”
    You called Chan after your visit and told him what the doctor had told you. He seemed concerned, also wondering if there was any way to prevent that. It’s not like you really had control over this, but you promised Chan you would keep him updated if you remembered anything, especially things related to his case. You were scared, but you didn’t tell him. You had no idea the type of things buried inside your head, or what they would change about you if and when they came to light. You tried not to worry about it, but whenever your head hurt, even just a bit, you were terrified. The medicine did help with the pain, but that wasn’t going to stop the inevitable.
“Are you okay?”
“Huh?”
    You’d always get distracted after a headache, worried you’d remember something horrendous. On this occasion you weren’t paying attention to where you were going, running into someone on campus. They could immediately tell you were kind of out of it, and showed concern.
“No, no, I’m fine.”
“You sure, you don’t look okay.”
“I’m fine.”
“You should sit down for a bit, collect your thoughts.”
“Yeah… yeah that’s a good idea.”
    The boy led you over to a bench, sitting down with you. He suggested some breathing exercises to help you calm down and steady yourself. 
“Thanks.”
“No problem. You sure you’re alright.”
“Yeah, just these headaches…”
“Are you taking anything for them?”
“Yeah, but it’s only for the pain.”
“What?”
“The headaches aren’t normal…”
“Are you sick?”
“No… I just got into an accident and I can’t remember some things… according to the doctor, these headaches probably mean my memories are returning…”
“And you don’t want that?”
“I’m scared…”
“Why?”
“Things happened… things I don’t really want to remember…”
“But I don’t think you can avoid it.”
“You’re probably right… sorry, I didn’t mean to dump my problems on you.”
“It’s okay. You’re looking better already.”
“Are you a freshman? I don’t think I’ve seen you around campus before… maybe a sophomore, you do seem a bit familiar.”
“Do I? I guess I just have one of those faces.”
“Maybe… what’s your name?”
“Yeosang.”
“Thank you, Yeosang.”
“No problem. Take care of yourself.”
    Yeosang excused himself first, wishing you well for the rest of the day. You certainly felt better after talking to him, but his words lingered. Remembering those months was probably unavoidable. You called Chan afterwards, admitting to the headaches getting worse and that you were bound to remember everything. He was worried about you, but he understood you probably couldn’t avoid it. So he suggested you come back to his place, to make sure you were somewhere safe when it happened. You agreed, saying you’d come by tomorrow after class. He looked forward to seeing you then, and told you to take care of yourself.
    You made it back to your apartment, happy to finally be home and unwind. You collapsed on the couch, reaching over for the TV remote only to not find it. You usually left it on the coffee table, but it wasn’t there. You checked on the couch, but nothing either. Then the TV turned on by itself. You slowly looked up at it, confused and frightened. When the channel changed you screamed, looking around your place frantically. You were alone, or at least you thought. A laugh suddenly filled your ears and you grew still. It sent a chill down your spine, especially cause you felt something vaguely familiar about it.
“Finally home.”
    You slowly turned around, finding a stranger leaning against the wall, twiddling a remote in his hand. Then you heard the floor creaking, seeing seven others appear, and you recognized some. Wooyoung from the race course, Yunho who drove you home that night, and the presumed student Yeosang. As all the lights were turned on you got a good look at everyone, beginning to recognize them all from the night you went to the street race gathering. You stood up in a panic, although there wasn’t much you could do as they had you surrounded. You reached for your phone only to have one of the boys grab your arm and take the phone from you. He tossed it over to Yeosang, who turned it off.
“Who… who are you, how did you get in here!”
“You really don’t remember anything, do you?”
“What?”
“But you’re about to, which means we don’t have to leave you alone anymore.”
“What… what are you talking about!?”
“It’ll make sense eventually. Let’s go.”
    Yunho came over and grabbed your other arm. You struggled against the two, but their grip was firm. While they held you another approached you, offering you a cocky grin before grabbing your head and exposing your neck. You felt a pinch, and then saw an empty needle moving away from your body, becoming fearful of the effects. Your heart was racing, but then you began to feel this exhaustion consuming you.
“No… no, please… please…”
    You tried fighting to free yourself, but it only made things worse. The edge of your vision started to go dark, and you were being dragged towards the door. You kept mumbling to be let go, but it did you no good, and the darkness eventually won.
“Hmm…”
    As you began to regain consciousness you felt the restraints on your body. Your legs were tied together, as were your hands, and you were gagged and blind folded. You felt a cold surface beneath you, trying to move around and sit up. Although you froze when you heard a voice.
“Are you awake?”
    You didn’t answer, you didn’t move, but it was too late to pretend. You felt hands grab you and pull you up to your feet. You were shoved into a chair and then the blindfold was removed. It took a second for your eyes to adjust. You seemed to be in some type of garage, multiple cars around, and the eight from before surrounded you. Yeosang came up to remove the gag, and you didn’t scream, too frozen in fear.
“Goodness, you’re still so beautiful.” 
“What… what do you want… from me…”
“Isn’t the answer obvious?” One commented. “You.”
“Ma… me?”
“We could explain all of this, but with your memory returning there’s no point.”
“I don’t want my memory back…”
“But we do.”
“Just… just let me go… please…”
“Not gonna happen.” Yunho stated. “But you’ll be just fine with us.”
“No… no, please… let me go… I won’t say anything…”
“You don’t have to be afraid of us.”
“Let me go!”
“Stop asking.” Another snapped. “We’re not gonna let you go.”
“What do you want from me!?
“You!” Wooyoung yelled. “It’s so fucken annoying seeing you like this! This isn’t who you are!”
“Wa… what are you talking about?”
“Nine months ago you became a better person. You were fucken perfect! Then-”
“Easy there, Wooyoung.”
“Shut it, Jongho!”
“Ya! Both of you.” Another shouted. “We’re not here to fight among ourselves.”
    This gentleman came over to you, staring down at you and making you feel small. He laughed, the same from back at your apartment.
“It does hurt to see that I’m nothing but a stranger in your eyes right now. I didn’t really believe it at first when Seonghwa reported you had woken up with amnesia, so I sent some of my men to keep an eye on you. Yet every time you crossed paths with them, they were just strangers.”
“I… I don’t know who you are… any of you… and I don’t want to…”
“Well that’s too bad. Your little friend Chan got you involved, and you don’t get to walk away so easily.”
“How… how do you…”
“Once your memories come back everything will be clear.”
“No… I don’t want to remember…”
“But you will.”
“Fuck you!”
“Oh you did, all of us actually. I’d love to do it again.” He reached over and caressed your cheek. “Maybe that’ll help you remember.”
“Don’t touch me!”
“Fine. Let’s just go back to the beginning, shall we? Nine months ago you secretly followed your friend to a race. Care to guess how that went?”
“No… no, I don’t know…”
“Come on now, Wooyoung even told me he reenacted some things for you.”
“What…”
“You were so out of place, stood out like a sore thumb, you caught a lot of attention that night.”
“Stop talking…”
“We couldn’t help it, so we introduced ourselves, and brought you into our world.”
“Shut up!”
“I’m not going to!” 
    The boy grabbed your face and forced you to look at him. He was angry and sad, all mixed together and fighting for dominance. You just felt terror.
“I want my y/n back!”
“She’s not here!”
“But I will get her back.” He let you go and walked away. “If you’re not going to cooperate, then I’ll make you. It’s been months but you’re finally on the verge of regaining your memories. A little push shouldn’t hurt.”
“What are you talking about?”
    You saw the boy get something from one of the cars, a small case, and set it down on the hood. He opened it and you saw him hold up a small vial and a needle. You immediately began to struggle against your restraints, but it did nothing to help you. As he approached with a needle in hand you tried to move back, only for Wooyoung and another to come over and hold you still.
“This shouldn’t hurt, just open up your mind to remembering the past.”
“Stay away from me!”
“You’ll thank me later.”
    You felt the pinch of a needle again, your mind racing with possibilities. You had no idea what he had just given you or what the effects would be. Your head might explode in pain, or you’d simply pass. Although the gradual feeling of everything slowing down was certainly frightening. Things were fading from existence, and time seemed to melt. You tried to fight it, to stay awake, but there wasn’t anything to do as darkness swallowed you whole.
Eight Months Ago…
“So this is your first big case?”
    Chan was always passionate about work, about justice, but you never imagined he’d take on such an assignment. Undercover work could take months, even years, but he was determined to do the job. Despite the confidentiality he shared a few details with you, after all, some of them were public knowledge.
“Yup. There’s been a string of robberies in nearby towns. From what we’ve gathered it seems these criminals have ties to illegal street racing.”
“Illegal street racing? Where does that connection come in?”
“They’re good drivers, very good, and you don’t see that with your average criminal.”
“True…”
“Besides that, a lot of these robberies happen in areas where these races have taken place. It’s still a theory, but there’s good enough evidence to pursue it.”
“So you’re going to participate in illegal street racing?”
“Yeah. I know where the gathering is tonight, so I gotta make a good first impression.”
“By yourself?”
“I’ve assembled my own crew.”
“Oh, can I go watch?”
“No.”
“What? Come on.”
“This is dangerous work, I don’t want you getting hurt.”
“But it sounds so fun!”
“And if you get arrested?”
“You can just bail me out.”
“Y/n.”
“No?”
“Please just stay out of this, and stay safe.”
“Alright fine, just don’t have so much fun without me.”
Chan chuckled. “I’ll try not to.”
    You kept your word about not getting involved. Although whenever you came over to his place you had to peek into his office to see what he had gathered. Not much as far as you understood, but you’d always enjoy listening to Chan give you a debrief. He probably shouldn’t be telling you about the operation, or even have contact with you while he was undercover. You didn’t want him to be alone though, especially if this assignment could take years. He probably should have objected, but he also didn’t want to completely lose touch with his actual life, especially the person he was closest to. Besides all that, it was good to voice his findings and get an outside perspective on things.
    For a while that was good enough, but curiosity was killing you. So one night you managed to put a tracking app on Chan’s phone, and followed him out to one of his races. You were a bit worried about how you were dressed, but upon arriving it seemed you’d fit right in. Or so you thought. Chan never wanted you there, so you had to be careful to avoid him, but you were also trying to find him. He was one of the racers, he had his own crew and everything, and you wanted to see him in action. You discovered there was a lot more going on here than just racing. It was like one big party with drinks and drugs, and all kinds of things.
“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing in a place like this.”
    You were lost in your own search that a strange voice startled you. The gentlemen immediately apologized and offered you a light bow. Although he kept a cocky grin on his face.
“First time?”
“Uh… is it that obvious?”
“Very. Are you alone?”
“Not exactly…”
“Makes sense. People don’t just wind up here without some sort of connection.”
“Yeah. I’m just looking for my friend.”
“Oh, who’s your friend, maybe I know them?”
“I doubt that.”
“Try me.”
“Chan?”
“Chan.”
“Yeah…”
“The leader of Stray Kids?”
“So you do know him?”
“Yeah, but you’re not gonna find him out here. Come on, I’ll take you to him.”
“Oh no, wait-”
    Before you could protest the guy grabbed your arm and pulled you along. You weren’t sure where he was taking you, or if it was a good idea to go along with them, but his grip was pretty firm. He led you over to this blocked off area, although the security posted let you both pass without any trouble. Soon enough you realized where he had taken you. There were cars all over the place, music blasting through the speakers, hoods popped open, and people talking about the cars. This is where the race crews hung out, and where they brought special guests.
“Guys, look what I found.”
“Oh shit, who’s the babe, Wooyoung?”
“This is… my bad, I never got your name.”
“It’s y/n.”
“Pretty. It’s nice to meet you, I’m Wooyoung, and these are my friends.”
    You were introduced to seven other boys, and they all seemed very happy to meet you. Although the leader came over to personally greet you.
“I’m Hongjoong.” The boy took your hand and kissed it. “Leader of this wonderful crew, Ateez.”
“It’s nice to meet you.”
“So tell me, what brings you out here tonight?”
“She was looking for her friend.” Wooyoung commented. “Chan.”
“Chan of Stray Kids?”
“That’s the one.”
“I didn’t know he had such good looking friends. Well that’s a lie, I’ve seen his crew, but I didn’t know he was hiding you.”
“He wasn’t really hiding me.” You corrected. “He just never invited me to one of his races before.”
“Well that’s rude. Why wouldn’t he invite you?”
“He just worries about me.”
“I guess I’d worry too if I had a friend like you.” Hongjoong laughed. “Come on, I believe Stray Kids are up next to race.”
    Hongjoong took your hand and led you over to the race course, taking you to a place with an elevated view. The rest of his crew gathered around, and you could see the cars driving up to the start line. The two revved their engines to hype up the crowd. You recognized Chan behind the wheel, becoming very excited to see this all play out.
“Who’s Chan racing against?”
“I don’t know, some random guy.” San replied. “It’s probably they’re first race against one of the big crews.”
“How many crews are there?”
“Uh, big ones, there are eight now. Everyone else is just trying to climb the ladder.”
“So how do you determine who’s on top?”
“Whoever has the most wins, and the crews’ skill behind the wheel.” Yunho explained. “No one ever really thought someone else would rise to the top, but Stray Kids really proved themselves.”
“So do the big eight ever race each other?”
“We do, but it’s usually a surprise, or for special occasions.”
“Wow, Chan has really been keeping a lot from me. I didn’t know he was so popular.”
“Stray Kids have skill, and there’s definitely natural talent there too.” Yeosang commented. “Although they’re quite stiff.”
“Stiff?”
“You know, cold and reserved. They’re good behind the wheel, but it kinda feels like they don’t fit in here.”
“Well maybe they need to loosen up.”
“Yeah?”
“This whole place looks like one big party. I would have thought Chan and his crew would fit right in.”
“Oh no, the real party happens elsewhere.”
“Does it?”
“Out here is where we come to race.” Seonghwa stated. “But if you want a party, I can send you an invite.”
“Really? Are Stray Kids going to be there?”
“You a big fan of theirs?”
“Well, I wouldn’t mind having some familiar faces around while I make new friends.”
“I suppose we should also give them a proper chance.” Jongho added. “See what they’re like off the track.”
“Sounds like fun.”
    You watched a few races before Ateez took you back over to their spot. Since you were new to all this they were very eager to show you their cars. Mingi brought you over to what he said was one of his favorites. He reclined back the driver’s seat so you could rest more comfortably on his lap. You kept an arm around his shoulders and listened intently as he told you about the car. As he revved the engine he had you bouncing up and down, making you giggle.
“You must like going fast.”
“That type of adrenaline, it’s intoxicating. Would you like a taste?”
“I don’t think I could drive a car like this.”
“You can be my passenger princess.”
“Isn’t it dangerous to have more than one person in the car?”
“Nah, that’s what makes it more fun.”
    You caught Mingi’s eyes lingering on your lips, and soon your eyes were doing the same. All of the Ateez members were quite beautiful, so anyone would be lucky to be sitting in Mingi’s lap right now, it just so happens to be you. Maybe you were imagining things, but you swear it looked like Mingi was leaning over to kiss you. That is before you got interrupted.
“Y/n?”
“Huh? Oh shit!”
    You heard your name being called, and when you looked over you saw Chan by the hood of the car. Your eyes went wide as you realized you got caught, especially in this type of situation. You tried to scramble out of the car, but Mingi already had his arm wrapped around your waist and held you in his lap.
“Mingi…”
“Chan?” Hongjoong peeked over at the scene. “What are you doing here?”
“Oh, right!” Wooyoung suddenly yelled. “We were supposed to call you and tell you your friend was here.”
“Were you?”
“Mingi, please let go.”
    Thankfully Mingi let you go, and you got out of the car to meet Chan. He was keeping his cool, but you could see the anger in his eyes. You offered a shy smile and let him grab your arm, dragging you off to speak in private. You prepared yourself for the scolding you were about to receive.
“What the hell are you doing here!”
“Look… I can explain…”
“Did I not tell you to stay out of this! How did you even find me?”
“A tracking app…”
“A what!” Chan checked his phone. “Unbelievable.”
“I know… you should take better care of your phone.”
“Y/n!”
“Sorry… I just got really curious about your case… I couldn’t help myself.”
“How long have you been here?”
“A couple hours… I saw you race too.”
“Seriously?”
“Sorry.”
Chan sighed. “Fine, whatever, you got what you wanted, now go home and don’t come back.”
“But I can help.”
“I told you I don’t want you too.”
“Well you need me to.”
“What?”
“I was chatting with Ateez and they told me about you and your crew. You worked your way up to the top, and they recognize you have talent, but they don’t like you all that much.”
“The social game is a work in progress.”
“Well I’ve given you a great chance.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Ateez mentioned something about a party tomorrow, outside the track, and they want me to come. So I convinced them to invite you too, that way you can all break the ice.”
“…”
“You’re welcome.”
“Y/n, this is fucken dangerous!”
“I know, and I’m being careful, alright. I didn’t approach them, they approached me, so that already puts me in a good position to gain their trust.”
“I don’t need you to help me out here.”
“But I can give you an advantage. Why wouldn’t these guys want to show off to some pretty girl? They’ll tell me things without hesitation, and that includes the illegal shit. Someone might just let something slip about those robberies around me, and they wouldn’t even be worried.”
Chan took a moment. “No. No this is too dangerous and you-”
“Please. I don’t want you wasting years of your life in all this. If I can help you gain the trust of the other crews here, or get you some valuable intel, let me.”
“I don’t want you in danger.”
“I’ll be careful, and I’ll stay within my own comfort zone. If I don’t like something, I’ll leave, I promise.”
“Y/n-”
“I promise.”
“Fine… fine, but don’t do anything reckless.”
“I won’t.”
    Even if Chan agreed to let you help him, he was still worried about you. So every now and then he’d check in and ask if you were alright, always reminding you that you could walk away whenever you wanted to. The reassurance was great, but you wanted to stick with him and see all this to the end. Being invited to that party was what really opened the door for both of you. Chan drove you to the place, and you were left in shock. You rolled up to a mansion, music blaring loudly, party lights illuminating the windows, it felt like something out of a movie. For a moment you thought how they could do such a thing without issue, and then remembered the long drive to get out here. There was no one else for miles and miles.
“Y/n! I’m so glad you could make it!”
    Seonghwa and Hongjoong greeted you upon your arrival, big smiles on their faces. Then they acknowledged Chan and the rest of Stray Kids. There was a bit of awkwardness in the air, but you figured some drinks and a party could loosen them all up. The two led you all inside, showing you where to get drinks, and where the entrance to the backyard was. There was a pool and you took note of that for next time.
“Come on, I want to show you around.” 
    Seonghwa took your hand and led you through the house. You knew Chan would probably worry about you, but you had your phone on you, and had promised to leave with him. So you’d see him again later in the night. You were honestly impressed by everything Seonghwa showed you, it was all so extravagant. Although when he led you upstairs you got a bit nervous.
“Should we be going up here?”
“No place is off limits, besides, it’s my house.”
“Wait, this is your place?”
“Yup.” Seonghwa chuckled. “Did you think we rented out a mansion for the party?”
“I… I don’t know… but… it’s huge… I can’t imagine how much it cost.”
“Plus the renovations.”
“Renovations?”
“Trying to increase the value. We’re planning on moving out in the next couple months.”
“Why? Did you find a better place than this?”
“Something like that.”
“Seriously though, how can you afford this? Who even are you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Street racing doesn’t pay the bills.”
“Doesn’t it?”
“Wait, do you guys make bets?”
Seonghwa laughed. “Of course. You think the people gather just to look at the pretty cars?”
“I… how much do you bet?”
“In the thousands, tens of thousands, but I do come from a rich family. Most of the racers from the big crews do.”
“Oh, do your parents know what you do?”
“They don’t care about me.” Seonghwa’s voice got somber. “They never did.”
“Neither do mine…”
“You? What kind of family do you come from?”
“An average one. We weren’t wealthy but we lived well. I was a good student, but I guess that was expected of me so my parents never really told me that they were proud… I got into Uni on a full ride, but that was expected too… I honestly did it so I wouldn’t owe them anything…”
“Do you still keep in touch?”
“Not really…”
“Me neither. Not like they’d be proud of me anyway.”
“I’m proud of you.”
“What?”
You giggled. “You’re quite famous in the racing scene, aren’t you? I haven’t seen you behind the wheel yet, but I’m sure you’re great. After all, you’re part of the big eight.”
“You’re funny.”
    Seonghwa brought you into one of the rooms on the second floor, his own, and took you out onto the balcony. You could see the party below, loving the atmosphere from the whole place. It was a nice view.
“This is a good little place to get away.”
“Yup, just the two of us.”
    You didn’t notice at first, but Seonghwa stepped away for a moment to bring over a bottle and two glasses. He poured you and himself a drink.
“Shall we toast?” You asked.
“To what?”
“Well, this may sound silly, but even if no one else is proud of me, I am. So I hope you can be proud of yourself too.”
“Proud?”
“Not everyone can be a street racer, right?” You leaned in close to whisper. “And I’m pretty sure you’ve avoided the police a lot.”
    Seonghwa scoffed and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. His actions caught you by surprise, and when you saw his face you could see a soft little smile on his lips.
“To us.” He raised his glass. “For being proud of ourselves when no one else will.”
“To us!”
    You needed to be mindful not to drink so much. Even if the point of a party is to have fun, you were kinda working here. So you stayed with Seonghwa for a bit, just sticking to one glass and talking. You asked how he got involved in the racing scene, genuinely curious but also trying to get information. He didn’t mind, telling you that at first he had done so to get his parents attention. Buying expensive cars, especially those designed to go fast. It got him nothing, so he thought to get in trouble with the law but that’s when he met Hongjoong. The boy recognized the style of car he had and asked if he could race. At the time the answer was no, but Hongjoong took him under his wing and now here he was.
“You’re such a bad boy.”
“I hear girls are into that.”
“As long as they have a heart of gold.”
“Do I qualify?”
“I’m not sure.”
    You suddenly heard the door open, and you both peeked into the room to see another boy stumbling in. He noticed you two and smiled.
“My bad, looking for the bathroom.”
“On the second floor?” Seonghwa questioned.
“First floor is occupied with a little line.”
“Ah, well my bathroom is right there.”
“Thanks.”
    The boy stumbled his way over to the bathroom. He did seem vaguely familiar to you, so you asked Seonghwa.
“Do you know him?”
“Yeah. That’s Younghoon from The Boyz.”
“The boys?”
“Boyz, with a Z, but yeah. He was racing last night.”
“Oh, yeah, I saw him. The Boyz are a big group.”
“Eleven drivers, although the biggest would be NCT.”
“NCT?”
“It’s rare to see them all on the course, but they got different groups among themselves.”
“Damn… so besides them The Boyz are the biggest?”
“No, that would be Seventeen.”
“There’s a group with seventeen members?”
“No, the group name is Seventeen, but there are thirteen members.”
“Then why are they called Seventeen?”
“I’m not good at explaining, but we can go find one of them and ask.”
“Sure.”
    You liked the idea of socializing, getting to know more people so you’re not so much of an outcast anymore. Although as you were heading out Younghoon came out of the bathroom.
“Hold on, who’s the girl?”
“This is y/n, she’s new on the scene.”
“Makes sense. I haven’t seen such a pretty face. The name’s Younghoon.”
“Nice to meet you. I saw you race yesterday, you’re good.”
“Thanks. If you ever want a ride, just let me know.”
    Younghoon came over to you and took your hand, Seonghwa immediately grabbing your other one. He just made Younghoon laugh as he took out a pen and wrote down his number on your arm and signed his name.
“Call me.”
“I’m sure I will.”
    Seonghwa did end up taking you to meet some of the other drivers, and you may have gotten another handful of drinks along the way. Things did get blurry, but you had pieces of coherence every now and then. You remembered being on the dance floor with Wooyoung and Yeosang for a bit before getting pulled into a drinking game. Then there was the charades after a quick dunk in the pool, you wound up in some of Yunho’s clothes afterward. Although you swear you’ve never had so much fun in one night. As daylight began to peek over the horizon the people began to disperse, but some remained. You wound up slow dancing in the backyard with San for a while before passing out. Of course you weren’t staying over, but you needed to be laid down to rest. You weren’t able to relay that message to Chan, so in the morning he was looking around for you.
“Ya, Hongjoong, have you seen y/n?”
“Uh… she should be upstairs, I think they put her down in Jongho’s room, fifth door on the right.”
“Thanks.”
    Chan made his way upstairs, and gently knocked on the door before opening it. He walked in to find you curled up on the bed, cuddling with Jongho and mumbling.
“You’re like a teddy bear… can I take you home…”
Jongho giggled. “You can just stay with me.”
“Hm… that’s not a bad idea.”
“Y/n, we have to go.” Chan said. “Come on.”
    Jongho helped you up, getting you on your feet and going down with Chan to make sure you were alright. You said your goodbyes to Ateez, and thanked them for the party. You hoped to see them again soon. Chan got you into the back of the car and sat with you, Minho driving and Felix passed out in the passenger seat.
“That was so fun… did you not drink?”
“Someone needed to keep their head.” Chan explained. “Minho and Seungmin didn’t drink either.”
“Boo, next time you should have fun.”
“I see you sure did. What’s with all the phone numbers on your arms?”
“Oh… just gathering intel… I have more numbers on my phone… you can probably do something with them, right?”
“You… how many…” Chan grabbed your arm. “That was dangerous.”
“It wasn’t my idea… Younghoon liked me and gave me his number… then some others wanted to add to it.” You chuckled and started pointing out names. “This is Woozi, oh and here’s Jungwoo, that’s Jaeyoon… Yeonjun wrote his number on my arm somewhere…”
“Did she just do months of work in one night?” Minho questioned. 
“I guess.” Chan commented.
“Some things require a woman’s touch and I have more numbers on my phone.” You added. “Was running out of room on my arms, but Jooheon was happy to be the first to be in my contacts list. Look, he sent me a cute winky face message.”
“You really outdid yourself.”
“Hm… plus I got other things too… a lot of them come from wealthy families… a chaebol here and there… I didn’t know you guys bet money…”
“The illegal stuff isn’t just the racing.”
“How much do you have?”
“Enough to play.”
“You gotta tell me about these things.”
“How about a proper debrief when you’re sober. You should rest, you did a lot tonight.”
“Hm… yeah…”
    After that first party a lot of things changed. Now you were in the loop about the case and the progress that was being made. With the information you gathered you were able to learn more about the racers, and who they were outside the track. Although that created a new issue.
“If these guys are our main suspects, then the question becomes why.” Changbin wondered. “The racing I get. A bunch of bored rich kids having fun, but committing crimes? They already have money, so what’s the point?”
“It’s the thrill.” Minho stated. “To do something illegal and then run away from the cops.”
“Yeah, but I’m sure even if they got caught they’d still walk free. So I ask again, why?”
“Maybe it’s just fun for them.” Jeongin said. “A game they play, or something they do just to see if they can. Like you said there won’t really be any consequences for them.”
“That alone creates a problem for us.” Chan reminded. “If there is no real motive behind these cromes, then there is no pattern to their actions. We can’t really get the upper hand on them, so we’d just have to wait for them to make a mistake. Which isn’t ideal. How are we with checking alibis?” 
“That’s a game in itself.” Jisung sighed. “We’ve got five robberies so far, and a long list of suspects. Thankfully they’re rather public figures so some of their alibis are out in the open.”
“Anybody clear?”
“Not all the way. Some still have no solid alibi for some nights, not to mention we don’t even know how big the group of criminals is.”
“Does anybody stand out to you?”
“Not really…”
“Are we even making progress?” Seungmin asked. “It doesn’t feel like it. I mean we could be completely wrong about these guys.”
“What about style?” You suddenly asked.
“Huh?”
“You told me that you were investigating the street racers cause the drivers at the crime scene were exceptionally good. Most drivers have their own style, or certain things they do behind the wheel. Is there any way you could try to compare the two, and see if anyone matches up?”
“Hm… there isn’t really footage of the illegal racing.” Hyunjin commented. “But if we study the CCTV footage of the car chases, we might be able to do an onsite comparison based on our memory. It could help us narrow down the list and give us a better idea who to focus on. Great idea y/n.”
“Happy to help.”
“You should have been with us from the start.” Felix added. “You’re good at this.”
“Well someone didn’t want me helping.”
“I still don’t really like this.” Chan said. “But you have been a big help, so thanks.”
“No problem.”
    Chan did have to draw the line at the CCTV footage. You could probably find it on the internet yourself, but he wasn’t going to let you look at police evidence. You were fine with that, it would be easier to just get close to some of the racers and see what you could get out of them. So you did just that, going to races when you could, but your education still took priority.
“Y/n! There you are! I didn’t see you last time.”
“I had an exam to study for. Couldn’t risk coming out and getting wasted.”
“You could have let us know you had a curfew.”
“But would you follow it?”
“Maybe…”
“Exactly.” 
    You got along well with all the racers, even those who weren’t in the big eight. Especially considering you were always in their area, considered more one of them than just another spectator in the crowd here to drink and bet. Stray Kids always drove you here and took you home, so you really just had to show up and enjoy yourself. Out of everyone though, Ateez seemed to like you the most, and they’d always find you when you were around.
“You really take school seriously.” 
“Of course. I’m trying to build my life here.”
“Or you could just settle down with me.” Yunho suggested. “I promise I’ll take good care of you.”
“Yeah? Well, I appreciate the offer but I must decline.”
“Come on, why? I’m good looking, I got money, I-”
“I don’t know you.”
“What?”
“Outside this life, I’m not sure who Jeong Yunho is.”
“Then perhaps you should get to know him.”
“Hm…”
“What’s going on over here?” Mingi asked, coming between you two. “Y/n, good to see you, missed you last time. I was racing and really wanted you to ride with me.”
You chuckled. “Some other time then. Although I might pass out. You guys go too fast.”
“That’s part of the thrill.”
“I guess I’ll see one day.”
    You wound up over with Ateez for the night, having a drink and relaxing on the hood of one of their cars. Even out there you could see the stars in the sky. You always enjoyed star gazing, but in a place like this it was far from quiet, and dangerous. You were just talking with San when suddenly you heard yelling, and the sound of sirens in the distance.
“Fuck, it’s the cops. We gotta go.”
“Cops?”
“Come on.”
    Hongjoong grabbed you and pulled you off the hood of the car, shoving you into the backseat. San was already behind the wheel, and once Hongjoong was in the passenger seat you began to move. You could barely sit up properly in the back, the car going so fast so quickly, it made you nervous.
“Can you… like slow down or something…”
“Gotta outrun the cops.” San apologized. “I don’t feel like spending a night in jail, or getting my baby impounded.”
“Alright then…”
“You good back there baby?” Hongjoong asked.
“Yeah… yeah… I didn’t know cars could go this fast…”
“Well hold on tight.”
    Somehow you managed to get your seat belt on, and kept your head low. You were definitely scared but this was also quite exhilarating.
“Do you guys do this often?”
“What? Run from the cops?” San questioned.
“Yeah…”
“Maybe more than most.”
“Those pigs rarely find us racing.” Hongjoong said. “But I guess even they get lucky sometimes.” 
    You almost hit your head a few times on the journey, but when San swerved off the main road into a parking garage without warning, you smashed your face against the headrest of the seat in front of you.
“Y/n! Are you okay!?”
    Hongjoong quickly got out of the car and checked on you, seeing you had a bit of a nosebleed. San had also gotten out, looking into the back.
“Look what you did!”
“We got away, didn’t we!”
“I’m fine.” You assured. “Did I get any blood on your seats?”
“Who cares about that.”
“It’s expensive…”
“Cars can be fixed, can’t say the same about people. Come on, get some fresh air.”
    You got out of the car, San coming over to hand you some tissues to clean up the blood. They were really worried about you, but you were fine. Now that the immediate danger had passed, you found yourself smiling.
“That was insane. You guys really know how to drive. I could never imagine outrunning the cops. I guess it’s not just about being fast.”
“It’s a whole other world behind the wheel.” San said. “Sorry this is how you got a taste.”
“At least I’m not in a jail cell, right?”
“Exactly.”
    You all hung around for about an hour to let the heat die down. Then you drove back to the Ateez house, meeting up with the rest of the crew and a few others who had escaped the police. That’s when you got a call from Chan and told him that you were alright and with Ateez. He said he’d come by to get you, so just wait for him.
“You know you could just stay the night.” Wooyoung suggested. “We got plenty of room for you.”
“I appreciate that, but I have classes in the morning.”
“We can take you.”
“If I show up in one of your dope ass cars, I will get so many questions.”
“Are you not already the center of attention at school?”
“I go to a big university, plenty of other people get more attention than me.”
“Then they’re all blind.” Mingi yelled. “You are the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Stop it before I die of embarrassment.”
    You played a few games while you waited around for Chan. Despite their desire for you to stay, you couldn’t, and said you would some other time. You wished the good night and went on your way with Chan. Once you were alone with him you had questions.
“What the hell was that tonight?”
“What?”
“The cops showing up?”
“You think I control all the police? Sometimes they get wind of a race and come to arrest people. Also, not every other cop in the area knows we’re undercover. This was bound to happen.”
“And if I got caught?”
“I would bail you out.”
“Now you say that.”
“Well now you’re part of the team. Besides, a lot of people split up, us included. It was a good opportunity to see what these guys look like driving away from the police.”
“True.”
“Are you okay though? What’s with the blood?”
“Oh, minor nosebleed. I’m fine, just a bit scared by the whole thing.”
“I should have warned you better about that.”
“It’s fine. Made me blend in with my clueless friend cover.”
“So, Ateez again?”
“They like me. Not the best idea to put all my eggs in one basket I know, but if I get close to at least one crew, I can get them to spill tea on the others. You’re still the new ones, but the others might know about the robberies and who’s carrying them out.”
“Perhaps. Just don’t do anything dangerous.”
“I know, I know.”
    Undercover work was more of a night job for you, so during the day you lived your life as normal. You’d text some of the other racers throughout the day, acting like friends, but there wasn’t much else. You thought you could keep these lives separate, but they had other plans.
“Y/n!”
    You were heading off campus to go home when a car honk and your name being called caught your attention. You looked over to see Jongho waving at you excitedly, Seonghwa leaning against the car. Your eyes went wide in surprise, and Jongho hurried over to you.
“Done for the day?”
“I… yeah… how did you find me? I don’t think I ever told you-”
“When you know the right people you can find anyone. Also money, come on, I bet you haven’t eaten yet.”
“Oh, well-”
“The others are waiting.”
    You couldn’t argue with Jongho as he took your hand and led you to the car. There really was no way to say no, so you went along. They took you to a restaurant, meeting up with the rest of Ateez there. The boys were happy to see you, asking about your day and listening intently. The restaurant you were at was quite fancy, and there weren’t even prices on the menu. They of course told you not to worry, that everything was on them and you should just enjoy yourself.
“What do you guys even do with your free time? Don’t you all have lives?”
“Is that meant to be an insult?” Yunho questioned.
“No, no, of course not. I just… you all had some time today to take me out to dinner. One or two of you would make sense, but all eight of you? What do you do when you’re not behind the wheel?”
“Whatever we want.” Wooyoung said. “Watch TV, go out into town, shop, legally drive.”
“All of you?”
“More or less.” Hongjoong added. “And we hang out with each other.”
“Don’t you have… family responsibilities? Some of you-”
“Not really.” Seonghwa cut in. “Our parents rarely see us as a good fit for anything.”
“Oh… sorry… I didn’t mean to pry… I’m a bit jealous though, about the freedom you have.”
“Jealous?”
“You do as you please everyday, no financial worries, or worries about what your future will look like. It can be whatever you want, and you can change your mind at any time.”
“You’re talking about stability.” Jongho corrected. “Which isn’t out of reach for you, or anyone. You’re studying and making plans for your future. One day you’ll have your career and everything you could want.”
“But there’s no guarantee for me. You guys were born with stability… I have to try…”
“Does it worry you that much?” Mingi asked. “Your future?”
“Yeah…”
“But you’re so young. There’s still so much life for you. Studying and making plans, it sounds like where you’re supposed to be. It’s rare to have everything put together at your age.”
“I guess…”
“Hey, let’s just focus on today.” Yeosang said. “We’re all together sharing a meal, and each other’s company. You always gotta enjoy the little things.”
“You’re right about that.”
    They all shifted the topic over to happier things, ultimately picking up your mood. Dinner wasn’t the only plan for the night. So you wound up with drinks and karaoke, letting the time split away in a haze of joy. You don’t know when you finally left, but you didn’t go home. 
“Is there a party at your place tonight?”
“No. Do you want there to be?” San asked. 
“No… nobody else needs to come.”
“No? How come?”
“Cause I want you all to myself.”
    You vaguely remembered being drunk in the back of a car with San. You were leaning against, your breath against his neck, and he was looking at you like you were the only thing in the world. His eyes lingered on your lips, and he couldn’t help himself. San leaned in to kiss you, and you kissed back. The two of you got closer, deepening the kiss, and then you roughly got pulled away.
“I want a turn.”
    Wooyoung tasted differently, but his kiss was just as deep. San wasn’t just going to sit back, coming in close, his lips against your neck. You’ve never really had attention like that before, so you were quite happy.
“Take it easy back there.” Yunho commented. “Don’t distract me.”
“Keep your eyes on the road.” Mingi stated. “We’ll get a turn later.”
    When the car came to a stop Wooyoung and San were pulled away from you. Next thing you knew Yunho was helping you out and then carrying you in his arms.
“You’re not drunk.”
“I had to drive, remember?”
“Hm… that’s sad…”
“I can drink now that we’re home.”
“Yeah?”
“Will you drink with me?”
“Sure. I can go for another round.”
“Ya, ya.” Hongjoong interrupted. “We’re not trying to give you alcohol poisoning, baby. No more drinks for you.”
“Come on… need even orange juice?”
“Juice is fine, but nothing alcoholic.”
“Yes captain!”
    You giggled and held on to Yunho, going into the house and to the kitchen. He set you down on the counter, getting a glass and some bottles. You reached for one but Yeosang took it from you.
“What did we say?”
“I just wanted to pour Yunho a drink.”
“Hm… I can do that.”
“Okay.”
    Yeosang gave you a chaste kiss on your cheek. He had a few drinks with Yunho, and you enjoyed your juice. You couldn’t really keep up with the conversation, but they found your babbling cute. You didn’t know how long you stayed up, but more came to join in, and you could vaguely remember the soft kisses and hands all over your body. It all felt so nice you never wanted it to end, but your body had to tap out at some point.
“Hm…”
    You took in a soft breath as you came to, stretching your limbs while in bed, slowly waking up. When you opened your eyes the peace of the morning was shot down. You didn’t recognize the room you were in, which means you weren’t home. You quickly got out of bed, only to stumble to the ground, your legs a bit shaky. You weren’t in your own clothes either, instead wearing your panties and an oversized shirt, no bra either.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck…”
    Wasn’t hard to imagine what had happened. You looked around the room, finding some pants, they fit well enough, and some shoes to put on. None of this was your own but you needed to move. Thankfully your phone was on the nightstand, and you started looking into calling yourself a ride. You carefully peeked out the room, seeing the empty hall. By now there was no doubt where you were. It was the Ateez house, and you could not remember last night.
“Morning.”
    You were creeping down the hall when you heard a voice and immediately froze. You slowly turned around, giving Mingi a shy wave.
“Hi…”
“You’re just in time for breakfast, come on.”
“I should really get going though… uh, where are my clothes?”
“In the dryer. You spilled some juice on yourself.”
“Oh… right…”
“You don’t remember?”
“Last night’s a blur for me right now… and I don’t-”
“We didn’t do anything.”
“Huh?”
“We didn’t fuck you if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“I… I…”
“Not that we wouldn’t, but we’d rather you be sober.”
“Oh…”
“We did kiss you up and down though.”
“Uh…”
“Come on, breakfast.”
    Mingi took your hand and led you downstairs to the dining room. The other boys greeted you, Seonghwa and Yunho setting up the table.
“Can I help with anything?”
“Just take a seat, we got this.” Seonghwa smiled.
“Thanks…”
    Everything smelled so good, and you were quite amazed by the fact they could cook. Yeosang and Jongho served you, making sure you got the best of everything.
“Are you feeling alright?” Hongjoong asked. “I got some hangover soup for you if you need it.”
“I’m okay, not as bad as I could be.”
“I’m glad.”
“So then… this is dumb… but you all really live here together?”
“Yeah, our shared space away from responsibilities and family and all that nonsense.” Wooyoung said. “You’re more than welcome to move in, we’d love to have you.”
“Oh no, I doubt I could pay rent for a place like this. Besides, Seonghwa told me you guys were planning to move soon.”
“Right… forgot about that…”
“Besides… last night… why didn’t you take me home?”
“Cause you were drunk.” Yunho explained. “We couldn’t just leave you alone. You’re also assuming we know where you live.”
“Right… sorry…”
“We do, but it’s more about you being alone.”
“You were also sucking face with San and Wooyoung,” Mingi added. “So it’d be mean to send you home alone.”
You felt your face start to burn. “Uh… I… um…”
“Don’t tease her.” Jongho said. “Last night was enough fun for everyone.”
“I hear venom in those words.” San chuckled. “Is it cause she was in my room and not yours?”
“Watch it.”
“That’s not how you speak to your hyung.”
“Guys, calm down.” Yeosang stated. “Can we just enjoy breakfast together?”
“Fine.”
“Good. Y/n, I’ll take you home after this.”
“Ya! No fair!”
You giggled. “Thanks, Yeosang.”
    After breakfast your clothes were dry, so you were good to go. The boys packed you some hangover cures, but of course San and Wooyoung tagged along to drop you off.
“Thanks for last night, it was a lot of fun, even if somethings are hazy.”
“No problem, just let us know if you need anything.” Yeosang assured. “Get some rest.”
“You too.”
    It was certainly strange to spend time with Ateez outside of the racing, and parties, but it was also nice. Outside of being suspects in a criminal case, they were good people and their heart seemed to be in the right place. You didn’t tell Chan about this, knowing he’d be worried about you spending time with Ateez unsupervised. The problem is this wasn’t a one time thing. You began to see Ateez more often. Some would come by for lunch, or find you around campus and just spend time with you. Little by little, visit by visit, they felt more like friends than anything else. Although you couldn’t hide it forever. The chemistry that others would see at the track spoke for itself.
“Y/n.”
“Hm?”
“Can we talk?”
“Sure.”
    You had been spectating a race with Hongjoong when Chan came over, pulling you away. You went over to his area, getting into one of his cars. The windows were tinted, and he put on some music to fill the silence.
“What’s up? I don’t think we should be talking-”
“What’s going on between you and Ateez?”
“Uh… well…”
“All of a sudden you seem real close to them.”
“I did say it was a good idea to get close with one group and see-”
“How close?”
“What?”
“Have you slept with them?”
“Chan!”
“I’m serious. Socializing and gathering information is one thing, but if you’ve crossed a line-”
“I cannot believe you’d ask this!”
“These guys are suspected criminals!”
“And when was the last time a robbery was committed? What if your crew moved on and you’re all just here driving in circles? Did you think about that?!”
“Y/n, these people are dangerous, criminals or not, and I don’t want you getting so mixed up with them.”
“Well I’m not sleeping with them, okay? And these guys are just normal people! Just cause your suspected criminals are good drivers, doesn’t mean they do this illegal street racing stuff. Maybe they’re normal race car drivers, have you looked into that? Or maybe they don’t race at all besides the-”
“Enough!”
“…”
“I’m taking you home, and I want you out of my case, understood?”
“You’re unbelievable!”
“Am I clear!”
“Crystal! And I’ll take myself home!”
    Before Chan could yell some more you got out of the car, slamming the door. You stormed off, heading out of the VIP area and into the regular crowd. You just needed to get to the main road and could get a ride from there.
“Y/n-”
“Leave me-”
    While you were on the move you suddenly felt someone grab your arm. You quickly yanked yourself free, beginning to yell but stopping when you realized it was Mingi.
“Sorry, I didn’t… sorry…”
“Are you alright? I saw you storming off and leaving the race course.”
“I’m just not feeling well, so I’m heading home early.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear. I can take you home, it’d be better-”
“No, it’s alright.”
“I insist. I don’t like the idea of you going home alone at this hour.”
“Mingi-”
“Please. Maybe we should get some ice cream first.”
You chuckled. “That’s not a bad idea.”
    You went with Mingi, waiting for him as he brought his car around. He was serious about the ice cream, finding a place still open and getting you a sweet treat.
“Are you seriously okay?”
“Well I’m feeling better now.” 
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“It’s nothing really. It’s just… Chan really doesn’t like me being around all this stuff… the racing and all that…”
“Does he not like us?”
“Honestly… I don’t think he does…”
“I get your childhood friends, but you’re your own person, and capable of making your own decisions.”
“I know, he knows, but he still worries.”
“I would too. So, what are you going to do?”
“I don’t know… but I have a lot to think about.”
    You stayed with Mingi for a while, small conversations and silence, just appreciating his company. Looking back you probably shouldn’t have yelled at Chan like that, but thinking about that whole conversation frustrated you all over again. Maybe you both overreacted, or it was just you. Either way you weren’t sure what you should do, for now you just wanted to ignore everything, and Mingi knew that. So instead of taking you home as he said, he took you back to his own place. Telling you it was probably best to go somewhere Chan wouldn’t find you immediately, giving you both some proper space.
    You thanked Mingi for his thoughtfulness, and ultimately passed out in his room. He had informed the rest of his crew that you were in the house so they wouldn’t be surprised when they got home. Also to ease any worries if anyone asked about you, not that they would say where you were. The boys were happy to see you in the morning, acting like you had stayed over and not talking about the night prior. You were grateful for that, remembering that Ateez were just as much your friends as Chan and the rest of Stray Kids were. You could make your own decisions about the company you kept.
“Y/n, your birthday is coming up.”
“What? How did you-”
“It’s us.” Yunho smiled. “How could we not know?”
“I suppose you’re right.”
“So, got any plans?”
“Uh, well, not really, haven’t thought about it. My friends usually throw me a semi-surprise party.”
“How about this year you spend it with us?” Seonghwa suggested. “We’ll throw you a big party right here.”
“Yeah! We’ll invite everyone, and have a big cake, and lots of presents.” Wooyoung added. “It’ll be great!”
“I don’t know…”
“It’ll be fun, the best birthday party ever.” Yeosang said. “If you want that is, we won’t push it, but you should let us treat you for your special day too.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“A big party would be way more fun.” San mentioned. “So think hard about it.”
“I-”
    Your phone started ringing, halting the conversation. When you looked at the caller ID you saw it was Chan, getting nervous. You got up and stepped away from the table, going into the room next over.
“Hello?”
“Hey, I’m at your place, could you let me in? So we can talk?”
“Uh… about that… I’m not home right now…”
“Not… where are you?”
“Just… uh, just a friend’s place.”
“Friend? Don’t tell me you’re with Ateez?”
“And if I am?”
“What did we talk about last night?”
“We didn’t talk, you yelled at me.”
“Cause I’m worried about you being alone with these guys. Suspects or not, they are not a good influence on you.”
“And you are? Look at the company you keep.”
“That’s part of-”
“Whatever. I’m going home now anyway, please don’t be there when I arrive.”
    You hung up without waiting to hear him speak. You were already upset about last night, and this wasn’t helping.
“You okay?”
“Huh?”
“You didn’t sound too happy.” Hongjoong admitted, having followed you. “Everything alright?”
“I guess. I have to get home, so thanks for breakfast.”
“I’ll drop you off, your house, promise this time.”
“Fine.”
    It was better to get a ride than to call for one. No one else tagged along this time, as Hongjoong didn’t let them. He took you home as he said, although when you got there you noticed Chan’s car, meaning he was waiting for you.
“Y/n?”
“You know what, let’s have that party.”
“Yeah?”
“Yup.”
“Great. We’ll take care of everything, so don’t worry. We’ll pick you up on your special day.”
“Thanks.”
“Take care.”
“You too.”
    You thanked Hongjoong for the ride, going up to your apartment. As you feared Chan was there waiting for you. There was silence between you until you were both inside.
“You were supposed to go home last night.”
“Mingi had other ideas. Took me out for ice cream first, and I didn’t want to come back here.”
“You could have let me know.”
“And have you show up at their place in the morning? No thanks.”
“Look, about last night. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I’m sorry. I worry about you getting involved with them and if-”
“That’s the key word, if. Look, I get Ateez is on your list of suspects, and all I’m doing is gathering information. I don’t intend to stay friends with them if they’re found guilty, or not. This is just part of the job, right?”
“Except it was never your job to take on.”
“I volunteered for this, so you don’t bear the responsibility here.”
“I let you, so I do. And I was serious about you stepping away.”
“And how exactly do you think I should do that? All those guys know me, they like me.”
“Just tell them you’re focusing on school. Distance yourself and I’m sure they’ll just forget.”
“I guess…”
“Are we good?”
“Sure.”
“Okay. I’ll get going then, since I know you didn’t want to see me right now.”
“Bingo. Have a good day.”
“You too.”
    Of course you didn’t entirely listen to Chan. You knew he had a point, and you didn’t exactly lie when you said you’d cut ties with these people once the job was done. That wasn’t now though. They were your friends and you wanted to maintain the relationship. Especially considering what happened. A few days later it was on the news. A robbery had taken place, and this time the criminals had left behind a message. You rushed over to Chan’s place once you saw the news. He didn’t want to share information, but he couldn’t stop you once you were through the door.
“So you have a name now?”
“Yes. The graffiti left behind was a black flag with a skull and crossbones along with a name, the Black Pirates.”
“So that’s who’s been behind the last few robberies.”
“It seems so.”
“And for your information, they are street racers.” Minho added. “So you were spot on about comparing the driving styles.”
“Really? Who do they match?”
“The juries still out on that, but the way they moved is similar to what we’ve seen in the races.”
“We also got a number this time.” Felix stated. “From what the cameras picked up before they got taken out there seems to be eight pirates.”
“Eight? So wouldn’t that rule out the smaller groups like Mons-”
“Not exactly.” Jeongin cut in. “Just cause we saw eight this time, doesn’t mean there’s always been eight.”
“But it would make sense. There’s always been two getaway cars.”
“There could be some members of the Black Pirates that don’t participate in illegal street racing.” Hyunjin explained. “Or vice versa, given there are groups with more than eight members, like NCT. They could alternate depending on the hit, or have outside help.”
“So we don’t really have much.”
“We know we’re looking in the right place.” Seungmin said. “Now it’s just about finding the evidence, and catching the culprit.”
“So it is progress.”
“Any bit is better than none.”
    That was good to hear, even if this whole operation was now months in. At least they knew that this wasn’t all a waste and they were on the right track. That in itself must be a huge relief to them, for you too actually. You may not really understand the danger, especially when they first started. Surely getting in must have been a lot of trouble on its own. Still, you had your own things to focus on. It was your special day after all, and you were quite excited. Your friends usually threw you a party, which meant you needed to tell them about this year’s plans. You were going to, but when you brought up your birthday they said they got the invites already.
    Apparently Ateez had already invited all your friends, and they were very excited about the party this year. They had lots of questions regarding your new friends, but promised to bother you about it later because today was your day. Classes weren’t that difficult, and you planned to go home and get dressed, but there were other plans. As you were making your way off campus you were surprised to find Mingi and Yunho waiting for you. There were already plans in place for your special day, and that started with some shopping. You should premiere a new outfit at your party, and they were gonna take care of everything.
    You couldn’t really say no, even once you saw the price tags. They took you to some high class stores, places you’d never shop at normally. At first Mingi tried to hide the price tags from you, telling you to pick what you liked, but you couldn’t help it. You thought you were dreaming when you saw the zeroes, but they told you money wasn’t a problem. Took a lot of coaxing, and they told you this was basically your present. They wanted you to look nice, for your beauty to shine, and it would be unfair to deny them that. So you caved, and looked only at the styles and found something you liked.
    The boys had you walk out in your new outfit, and had a few others to change into later in the night. From there you went over to the house, and you were left in awe as you stood at the front door. The place was mostly decorated, some people still working on the final touches, but it looked insane. Everything practically screamed Happy Birthday at you, and it honestly felt so surreal. The rest of the boys came over to give you birthday wishes and ask you how everything looked. It was incredible already. The snacks and food laid out on the tables, all the party games they had scattered around the house too. You had never been to such a party. Even the previous events they had before was nothing compared to this.
“I have to ask… you invited my friends… how did you get their numbers?”
“We just borrowed your phone for a bit.” Yeosang admitted.
“When?”
“Sometime ago.”
“But-”
“That’s not the concern right now. If you have anything more to do to get ready, go ahead.” Seonghwa suggested. “You can use my room.”
    Seonghwa took your shopping bags and led you up to his place. It was still early so the party wouldn’t be starting soon. You were pretty much ready to go aside from some makeup, but you held off on that. Since you had time you worked on homework, wanting to have one less thing to worry about so you could truly enjoy the night. Of course if Ateez caught you they’d probably say something, but this was for your own benefit. Thankfully you finished your assignments just as you heard music blasting through the house.
    Wooyoung was the one to bring you down to the party. Even if you didn’t know a lot of the guests, they all seemed to know you were the birthday girl. So you got many birthday wishes, more than ever before. When your friends showed up they were so excited to see you, and everything else that was going on for you. They couldn’t believe such a party had been thrown for you, and graciously thanked the boys of Ateez for their generosity. You were a bit embarrassed, but you could dwell on those feelings some other time. The night went on, and you spent lots of time with your friends. It almost felt like you were at a club more than anything, and with no worries about creeps bothering you. 
“Mind if I steal a dance?” San whispered in your ear, joining you on the dance floor. “You look smokin.”
“You tell me this now?”
“Well, I can say it again and again if you need me to.”
“Hm, that sounds nice.”
“Or…”
“Or?”
“How about I give you your birthday present?”
“Present? Isn’t that after the cake?”
“You can have my present first.”
“Hm…”
“Come on.”
    San took your hand and apologized to your friends as he was going to borrow you for a while. They all smiled and gave you thumbs up, waving you off. You were quite curious as to what kind of present San had for you. It could quite possibly be anything. So when he led you down to the garage, you were starting to think he bought you a car. That would be insane, and you wouldn’t even know what to do with it. Although things quickly changed when you saw someone else.
“There’s the birthday girl.” Wooyoung waved, sitting on the hood of a car. “You ready for your present?”
“Yeah. You guys got me a car?”
“What? No, this is one of our race cars.”
“Oh… then… what’s my present?”
“Us.”
“You?”
“We figured tonight we should give you a present you won’t forget.”
    Wooyoung opened the back door of the car, San leading you over to it. He had you lay back and then he climbed on top of you. Although you put your hands on his chest to stop him.
“You want to do this… in your car?”
“Well, I want it to smell like you. That way you’re with us the next time we use it, even if not physically.”
“Oh… well you guys are certainly something else.”
“If you don’t want to, just say so.”
“This is my birthday present, isn’t it? I want to receive it in full.”
“As you wish, princess.”
    You had never done it in a car before, but San seemed to have some experience. It made you a bit jealous, but it was all to make sure you enjoyed yourself tonight. Of course Wooyoung was still there, waiting his turn. He was sitting in the driver’s seat, watching you from the rear view mirror and stroking his length, only allowed to imagine himself on top of you for now. On occasion you’d make eye contact with him, and you could see the lust in his eyes. He might not even let San finish and just go over and yank him off you, but he was a patient boy. 
    You on the other hand, not so much since San being proper with his prep work. When he finally gave it to you, relief washed over your face. He stretched you out so good, like it was a perfect fit, but since he had already prepped you, he didn’t give you the satisfaction of feeling him whole and started moving. Obscenities spilled from your lips as you grabbed onto whatever you could, letting him take control.
“Fuck, fuck, San…”
“Just take it like a good girl. I know you can.”
“Hm…”
“Don’t fuck her brains out.” Wooyoung commented. “I get my turn after you.”
“She’s the birthday girl, and deserves the best, so I’ma give it to her.”
    He wasn’t wrong there, giving you everything he had. At times you swear you saw white, and he put all his attention into your pleasure. He was adamant about holding out and making you cum first, which he succeeded in. Your body shook underneath him as your orgasm took over, your center squeezing him tightly and forcing him to spill his seed inside you. San had been trying to hold out but he couldn’t deny you in the moment.
“Fuck, y/n, you feel so tight.”
“Aw, fuck, that’s not fair.” Wooyoung whined. “That should be me.”
“Did you make a mess in the front?” San asked. “Seriously?”
“You made a mess in the back.”
“Not alone.”
“Stop bragging. It’s my turn anyway.”
    In a matter of seconds Wooyoung had gotten out of the car and went over to the back. He pulled San’s pants up and shoved him to the side, wanting to get a good look at you.
“So pretty.”
“Hm.”
    Wooyoung gently caressed your cheek, his hands then trailing down your body. You were so sensitive at the moment, the slightest touch made you shiver. He loved the goofy smile on your face, clearly still high.
“You ready for more baby girl?”
“Will you be gentle?”
Wooyoung chuckled. “No.”
“Good.”
    That was all he needed to get started. Wooyoung dipped his fingers into your sloppy center, scooping up some of San’s seed and using it to write his name out on your stomach.
“I think we forgot to ask, but are you taking anything? Or is San gonna become a daddy?”
“I’m okay, you’re the only daddy I need tonight.”
“Fuck, baby girl, keep talking like that and I’m gonna make you a mommy.”
“Bet.”
    Wooyoung wasn’t gonna wait around much longer, angling himself perfectly and grabbing your hips before thrusting into the mess between your legs. You were still so sensitive, so his rough movements made you shake all over again. You bit your lip as the last bits of your previous orgasm fluttered through your body, and then got replaced by Wooyoung’s actions. He wasn’t San, but he had his own way of making you feel good. He took advantage of your state too, rubbing your clit and groping your breasts to divide your attention. He had all kinds of signals going off in your brain.
“You’re such a good fuck.”
“Hm… more…”
“I know, baby, I got you.”
    Wooyoung pulled you closer, getting relentless as your words motivated him to do better. He wanted to watch you unravel beneath him, and the desire was taking over. You didn’t notice when San had gotten himself together, but he had gone to the other side of the car and looked down on you. Although Wooyoung tried to push him away, especially when San started kissing you. It didn’t work though as he kept coming back, even when Wooyoung scolded him. Still, he could only really focus on you, wanting to make you scream his name, which is exactly what he got. You grabbed his arm tightly, mumbling out for him to go faster and make you cum. Your words excited him and he gave you just that, holding your face with his free hand as you climaxed.
    He watched your lips tremble, eyes roll back in ecstasy, knowing he was the reason for your actions. That, and feeling you hug him so tight, was enough to push him over the edge. Wooyoung locked eyes with you, wanting to ride out his high while he made your body tremble, watching everything you did. Your smile filled him with such satisfaction, he leaned down to kiss you, lips then trailing down your body. With two orgasms under your belt you were quite tired, and sore, and far more sensitive than before. Wooyoung stayed with you for a moment before pulling out, giving you some more chaste kisses. He gently pulled up your legs, trying to make sure you were comfortable, and San got into the back so you could rest your head in his lap. Thankfully you weren’t cold, even if you were partially undressed. The heat from their love was enough to keep you warm.
“You good?” San asked while petting your head. “Did you like your present?”
“… yeah… so good…”
“We’re glad to hear.”
“We should have bounced her on the stick shift.” Wooyoung commented from the driver’s seat. “Before we filled her up. Would have made it all the more special.”
“Next time perhaps, what do you say, y/n?”
“Hm…”
    You stayed semi curled up for a while, just letting your body wind down after all that fun. Although you couldn’t stay there long. You had shut your eyes, partially falling asleep, only to open them wide at the sound of knocking on the roof of the car. You looked over and found Yunho peeking in and taking you in.
“What’s this?”
“She was receiving her gifts.” San stated. “And she’s very happy with them.”
“Is that so?”
“Hm.” You hummed in agreement.
“Well, can the birthday girl come up for cake?”
“Cake?”
“We can’t cut the cake without you, everyone’s waiting.”
“Uh…”
“Don’t worry, I’ll help you and it’ll be quick.”
    Yunho helped you sit up and get your clothes back on. He didn’t comment on the mess between your legs but he did help you clean up a bit. It wouldn’t be good to have cum running down your leg while everyone sang happy birthday to you. Once you were presentable you got out of the car, only to realize your legs were shaky. Yunho effortlessly picked you up in his arms bridal style.
“I’ll take you up.”
“Thanks.”
    You were a bit shy, but you couldn’t object to this. Yunho carried you upstairs to the party, taking you outside to where the cake had been brought out. Everyone cheered when you arrived, Jongho lighting the candles on the cake, one of many actually. Yunho gently put you down, and allowed you to use him to support yourself. Everyone got quiet and then the singing began. You had never heard so many people sing before, let alone with such excitement in their voice. You took a moment to make a wish and then blew out the candles. More cheers erupted, the cake began to get cut, and then everything went dark. One moment you were receiving hugs and good wishes, and then you had cake in your face.
    You laughed as you wiped icing off your face, seeing Jongho with an empty plate of cake, and a revealing smile on his face. You quickly grabbed him and pressed messy kisses to his face, getting him covered in cake too. He seemed to enjoy it, although you couldn’t stay that way. As the initial excitement calmed down, Yeosang led you and Jongho upstairs to clean up. You wound up in his room, and even though you tried to clean yourself up, he suggested getting in the shower. It wasn’t a bad idea, especially considering the type of gift you had received already. So you didn’t hesitate to take your top off, leaving Yeosang and Jongho in shock.
“What? It’s not anything you haven’t seen before.”
“I… I…” Jongho mumbled. “Yeah, but I didn’t think you were so bold.”
“Neither did I.”
“I’ll get you some clean clothes.” Yeosang offered. “I’ll be back.”
    You went into the bathroom and stripped off the rest of your clothes, hopping into the tub. You took a quick shower just to clean yourself up, and get any sugar out of your hair. When you finished you stepped out with a towel wrapped around you, even though you had your bra and panties beneath. Yeosang handed you some clothes, and once you were dressed Jongho cleaned himself up. It wasn’t as much as you so he just needed to wash his face.
“Cleaned up already?”
    Seonghwa softly knocked and entered the room with a plate of cake, happy to see you were alright. He would probably scold Jongho but you told him to leave it alone, surely someone else would cake your face.
“You guys really went all out for me.”
“Of course, it’s your birthday. You should be celebrated to the maximum.”
“I really appreciate everything you guys have done for me today.”
“Well the night is still young. Here, you should enjoy some cake.”
    Seonghwa was happy to feed you, and the cake was quite good too. Although you were getting icy all over your lips. Seonghwa was gonna reach over and wipe it off when Yeosang grabbed his hand and decided to kiss you, cleaning up the icing along the way.
“Yummy.”
“Ya!” Seonghwa yelled. “You can’t just go around kissing her!”
“Why not? I heard WooSan already gave her a present too.”
“What?”
“Yeah, they went down to the garage.” Jongho added. “I bet they made a mess.”
“The garage, is that true?”
“Uh… well…” You were a bit shy, trying to hide your face. “Yes…”
“I see… did you like it?”
“It was… nice…”
“I didn’t know you were such a bad girl.”
“What?”
“You’re supposed to get presents after cake, not before.”
“Oh, well… I didn’t-”
“Since you’ve had cake now. I suppose I can give you my present too.”
“Sure. What did you get me?”
“A very unique gift.”
    Seonghwa put down the plate and grabbed your hand. He kissed it softly and then led it down to rest on his crotch. Your eyes went wide and you looked up at him, feeling more shy than before. He just smirked.
“What? You think I don’t know what those two troublemakers did? There are cameras everywhere, baby.”
“Oh…”
“No need to be shy. Although I understand you might be a bit tired, I’ll take good care of you though.”
“Ah, well…”
“All of us.” Yeosang added.
“Huh?”
“Did you think we were just gonna leave you with Seonghwa? That’s hardly fair.”
“So all three of you…”
“Can you handle us?” Jongho questioned. “It’s okay if you can’t, we’ll teach you.”
“You guys are being too much.”
“It’s only fair. The birthday girl has to get the best for her special day.”
    Seonghwa leaned in close to kiss your cheek before taking the plate and setting it down on the dresser. Yeosang had you move up and lay back on the bed. The clothes you were wearing were loose fitting and easy to remove, leaving you in your undergarments.
“You’re all being very bold tonight.”
“We have been waiting for this too.”
“Really? You must have been so frustrated.”
“You have no idea.”
    Yeosang was pushed to the side as Seonghwa climbed on top of you, stealing a kiss and tasting cake on your lips. His hands explored your body, ultimately pushing up your bra to feel your breasts. He had been holding himself together, but he couldn’t keep doing that. Seonghwa began to undress, getting you out of the last bits of clothes you had on too. Now that you were completely exposed he began pressing kisses all over your chest and lower stomach. Your focus was solely on him until a shirtless Yeosang crawled onto the bed and started kissing your hand. He made you giggle, which brought a smile to his lips.
    Although Seonghwa wasn’t happy about your attention elsewhere, so he got it back the only way he sought fit. You let out a ragged moan as Seonghwa pushed a finger into you without warning. Your eyes shot down at him, seeing the big smirk on his face. You didn’t need that much prep, still recovering from the car sex. Which worked in your favor as you didn’t have to wait too long for Seonghwa to fuck you. He was still a tease though, going slow with his fingers, pressing long kisses on your clit, making you whine at every point. You couldn’t play his game for long.
“Seonghwa you better fuck me soon or Yeosang can go first.”
“Don’t make threats like that.”
“It’s my birthday, isn’t it? What I say goes.”
“Tsk. I like a dominant woman, but tonight you’re at my mercy.”
    Maybe you should be careful what you wish for. Seonghwa grabbed your hips tightly, pressing on the bruises that were forming thanks to Wooyoung, and swiftly pushed his length into you. He could have teased you, but since you asked for it, he was gonna give it to you, every last bit. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you gripped the bed sheets.
“Fuck…”
“You wanted it.”
“Yeah… keep going…”
“Oh I will.”
    Seonghwa started off gentle, wanting to let your body adjust, but he wasn’t gonna be a tease for long. Before you knew it he was going at a relentless pace, making your whole body move with him. He wanted you to himself and pushed Yeosang away, holding your hands in his and watching you with lust in his eyes. You tried to keep your eyes on him, but whenever he hit your sweet spot you couldn’t help but shut your eyes in bliss and tremble.
“You like that?”
“Hm…”
    You were close, and you could tell he was too as he was losing his rhythm. It was a bit funny to think you had cleaned yourself up only to wind up with your legs spread so soon. You were gonna get filled up, which reminded you to mention it. Although Seonghwa said he knew, having been listening in to your previous session.
“Pervert.” Jongho commented.
“As if you’re not gonna go look up the security footage later.”
“Shut up.”
    Seonghwa leaned in for a deep kiss as he kept his momentum going, freeing his hands from your grip and using them to play with you and push you over the edge. Your orgasm seemed to push him over the edge and he held you close as you both rode out the high together. He pressed his forehead against yours, the two of you breathless but with smiles on your faces.
“You good?”
“Never better.” You exhaled. “Although I’m not your first.”
“But you can be my last.”
“Hm…”
“Move over!” Yeosang shoved Seonghwa off you. “My fucken turn.”
“Ya! I wasn’t-”
“She’s so delicate right now I wanna take advantage.”
    You barely even heard the end of Yeosang’s statement before he pushed himself into you, making the cum in you overflow. He let out a delightful moan as your body trembled and accommodated him among the mess. You gripped the sheets, letting out a shaky moan. You were still coming down from your high when Yeosang took over, making it so pleasure and pain began mixing. His hands trailed your body, kneading your breasts and taking them into his mouth on occasion. You reached over to feel his body, looking down as well to see where you two met. You never had this much fun before, and this was surely the best birthday present ever.
“You still with me, princess?”
“Yeah… I’m trying…”
“Trying?” Jongho questioned. “You’re barely halfway done here.”
“You jealous?”
“Who wouldn’t be?”
“Then be a good boy and wait.”
    They’d each have a turn but they really didn’t like losing your attention. While you had been talking with Jongho, Yeosang slowed down, making you whimper. He didn’t move, forcing you to grind down on him for your own satisfaction. Then without warning he started back up again, grabbing your hips, which were definitely gonna be purple tomorrow. He was just a tad bit upset and now really taking it out on you. So it wasn’t long before another orgasm washed over you, making you shake and hold him tightly, which ultimately pushed him over the edge too.
“Fuck, you’re so good… we should do it again.”
“You’ve had your turn, hyung.” Jongho commented. 
“Let the maknae have their fun too.” Seonghwa added. “If not for them we might not have gotten here.”
“So I wasn’t gonna get my present if not for Jongho?”
“Oh you would have gotten it one way or another.”
    Jongho did give you a minute to rest and recover, laying down at your side and taking your hand in his, kissing it gently. He looked so dreamy with you, and his eyes were so big and bright. You couldn’t imagine what he had in store for you.
“Are you enjoying your party?”
“For the bits I’ve been in, yeah.”
“That’s good.”
    Jongho started off slow and soft, knowing you were definitely sensitive. He carefully rolled on top of you, pressing soft kisses against your skin, making you feel very loved. 
“Will you be alright?”
“Yeah… just be yourself.”
“If you can handle it.”
“I can.”
“Then I’ll test you on it.”
    You laid with him for a while as he continued to pepper you with kisses. His touch would send sparks up your body, and when his lips finally reached your core you ran a hand through his hair. It was swollen and achy down there, but his gentle touch was soothing. You were lost in his softness that you didn’t notice when he was getting himself ready until you felt him pushing into you. He gave it to you inch by inch, holding your legs apart, watching your mouth hang open in silent bliss.
“I got you baby girl.”
    Jongho held your hands, rocking back and forth softly. You moved with him, eyes shut and soft whimpers escaping your lips. He was a different kind of good, and you didn’t expect his strength. He slowed down a bit, picking you up in his arms and thrusting up into you. More soft moans escaped your lips into his ear, giving him strength and motivation. You wrapped your arms around him, using all your strength to hold on. He took care of the rest and managed to wring another orgasm out of you. He loved how you melted in his arms, and he could feel every little movement of your body as it was overwhelmed with pleasure.
    Jongho pressed a kiss to your cheek, laying you back down on the bed and gently teasing you before he reached his own climax. This time he pressed his lips to yours, holding your hands tightly and riding out his own orgasm while feeding into yours. As you both caught your breath he laid beside you, still holding your hand. The other two had joined you in bed as well, all of you together in a little pile. You could feel the aches and bruises starting to form but you paid them no mind, still very happy with the overall experience. 
“Happy birthday.”
“Thanks…”
    You felt like you had probably fallen asleep for a bit, rightfully so. You awoke to the sounds of vibrating, sleepily sitting up and looking around. You were still in Yeosang’s room, and weren’t entirely alone. Yeosang and Jongho were still with you, taking a nap too, but Seonghwa was gone. Regardless, your focus shifted to the vibrating noise, looking around the room. You got out of bed, legs a bit shaky, but you found the source, your phone. You were still half asleep, but once you saw the caller ID you were wide awake. The spike of adrenaline gave you the energy to put on a shirt and joggers and step out of the room to answer the call.
“Hello?”
“Hey, where are you?”
“Oh, you know, out with friends. It’s my birth-”
“Where? I didn’t get an invite to the party.”
“You didn’t? I would have thought-”
“Y/n, please stop lying to me.”
“Wa… what?”
“I saw the pictures your friends posted on social, and I recognized the place.”
“So…”
“I told you to stay away. They are-”
    You were already feeling frustrated with the call when your phone was suddenly taken away. Hongjoong offered you a smile and hung up, turning your phone off.
“Hongjoong…”
“What’s wrong? The birthday girl shouldn’t be sad on her special day.”
“Uh… I… you didn’t invite Chan?”
“Of course not. He doesn’t like us, and there shouldn’t be any negativity today.”
“But-”
“Did he call to wish you a happy birthday?”
“No…”
“Then the right choice was made. Come on now, forget about the call and focus on the party. The night is still young.” Hongjoong held his hand out to you. “Shall we?”
    You knew Chan was gonna be upset about the way the call ended, even if it wasn’t your fault. Still, even if he rushed over now to see you and yell, it would be best to enjoy yourself to the fullest. You took a breath and offered Hongjoong a smile, taking his hand.
“We shall.”
“Good. Now I heard from Seonghwa that someone has been receiving presents.”
“I see word travels fast.”
“Have you been enjoying yourself?”
“Yes. It’s a great party.”
“I’m glad to hear.”
“I didn’t know you’d-”
    While walking your legs suddenly gave out, but Hongjoong managed to hold you up. The adrenaline of the call had worn off and the exhaustion of your previous activities was catching up to you now.
“Sorry…”
“No need to apologize, I got you.”
    You were trying to get your feet under you when Yunho and Mingi suddenly appeared. The two quickly took you from Hongjoong and helped you stand.
“You good?”
“Yeah, yeah…”
“I didn’t know Wooyoung and San did such a number on you.”
“You’re forgetting they aren’t the only ones to deliver their presents.”
“Are you serious?” Mingi questioned. “How are you still awake baby girl?”
“No idea… so are all of you just gifting me sex tonight?”
“Don’t like it?”
“Seems a little cheap. I saw the boxes down there…”
“You’re assuming sex is the only gift you’ll get from us.” Hongjoong chuckled. “Not to mention this party. We spent quite a pretty penny on you.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“But we wanted to.”
    The boys carried you to another bedroom, Hongjoong’s, and set you down. Yunho gently grabbed your legs and massaged them a bit, getting you to lay back. Your shirt exposed a bit of your stomach, and he pulled it up further, seeing the marks.
“Damn, you really are having a fun night, aren’t you?”
“I can’t lie… it’s been the best.”
“Then let us continue, or at least bring this night to a close.” Hongjoong said. “If you can manage it.”
“I wouldn’t mind passing out with one of you guys in me.”
“Promise?”
    Yunho pressed kisses to your cheek, pushing you up on the bed so you could rest comfortably. He got you out of your shirt and bra, taking one of your breasts into his mouth. You ran a hand through his hair, keeping him close. He tugged the joggers down, rubbing your through your panties for a moment. You were still wet down there, and messy. Yunho couldn’t wait long before yanking your panties down and pushing two fingers into you. The wet slopping sounds seemed to please everyone, and Yunho quickly understood he didn’t have to prep much, you were eager and waiting.
    Yunho was quickly on you, not wanting to hear anyone else claim you first. He wasn’t subtle, but swift with his motions. Your body was barely recovering from the last guy between your legs, but you figured you could handle a few more. Yunho was careful not to put any unnecessary strain on your body, but still made sure you were enjoying yourself. He had a nice rhythm going and you were truly relaxed. His touch was gentle but pleasurable, acting more like a lover than anything else. You were surprised he kept his pace throughout, even as he pushed you to the edge. Somehow he held himself together long enough for you to calm down before he went in hard and achieved his own high.
“Fuck… you’re all gonna leave me bruised up tomorrow…”
“And unable to walk.” Mingi commented. “That’s a promise.”
“Then I expect to be carried.”
“I got you, princess.”
    With that Mingi shoved Yunho aside, taking you into his arms and pulling you up. He sat down and had you resting in his lap. He gently held your waist, leading you to grind down on him. He still had his briefs on, but he didn’t mind getting them stained with your juices and what Yunho had left in you. He pressed his head against yours, watching the blissed out smile on your face. You both could only last so long before your basic needs took over. You reached down to free Mingi’s cock, stroking it a bit and adjusting yourself to take him in. He helped you settle down on him, giving you a kiss as a reward.
“I’ll do all the work, so just enjoy yourself.”
“Hm…”
    You wrapped your arms around Mingi, resting your head on his shoulder. He reached around to grab your ass, making you yelp, but he just chuckled. You seemed comfortable so he began to move, being gentle at first, but he couldn’t hold himself back. You grabbed him tightly, moaning into his ear.  He was rough, or maybe it felt that way because you were so worn down already. Still he was good to you, holding you close and whispering such sweet words. You didn’t know when he was getting close, but he certainly pushed you to cloud nine.
    He laid back with you on top of him, still thrusting into you as you rode out your high with him, and soon enough he was adding to the mess between your legs. You shook more violently this time, but Mingi made sure you were alright. Once you settled he carefully laid you down on the bed, pressing soft kisses to your face. You let out low chuckles, smiling with a happy look on your face. Mingi stayed with you for a while, caressing your cheek. You might have fallen asleep if the bed didn’t suddenly dip and you got turned around to face Hongjoong. He had a big smile on his face, reaching over to pet your head.
“Having fun?”
“Very…”
“Can you accept another present?”
“Maybe… I want it either way…”
“Well isn’t someone greedy.”
“Birthday girl, remember?”
“I do.”
    Hongjoong leaned over to kiss your head, then your lips, then slowly trailed down your body. He took your hands in his and placed kisses on them too. He was gentle in how he moved your body about. His hands caressed your thighs as he pulled your legs apart. He could see how red and swollen your clit was, giving that a kiss as well and making you shiver. He slowly climbed on top of you, giving you more kisses. He whispered in your ear and let you know he was gonna fuck you, wanting you to hold yourself together for him. You promised to do so to the best of your ability. That was enough for him, whispering dirty things in your ear as he pushed himself into you, going inch by inch so you could feel everything.
    Your body welcomed him, already feeling the tickles of an orgasm. By now you were so worn down you were floating in a state of bliss, and there wasn’t any coming down. Not with the constant attention, and the fact you’ve had more orgasms this night than ever before. Hongjoong certainly started off slow before getting into a gentle rhythm, his focus solely on you. He watched your face, the expressions you made as he moved around and pleased you. He kept his eyes locked with yours, and you did your best to maintain it, but you were certainly falling apart. Every touch felt like a mini orgasm, and you couldn’t do much else but lie there and take it. Hongjoong was well aware of this, and he just wanted to make sure you finished right.
    You don’t know for sure if Hongjoong hit that sweet spot just right, or your body just broke down, but that final climax was something else. Your whole body trembled as the pleasure and pain mixed together across every inch of your being. Not to mention all the kisses Hongjoong added as he watched you become undone beneath him. You only knew when he climaxed cause you felt a warmth inside you, and could feel the overflow of cum just dripping out of you. The exhaustion was really hitting, and you could barely keep your eyes open. You tried to hold on to Hongjoong, but he just took your hands and kissed them, setting them down.
“We wore you out baby, you should get some rest.”
“My party though…”
“It’s far from over. Take a little nap and I’ll clean you up, okay?”
“Hm…”
“Good girl.”
    You definitely needed rest, and left yourself in their trusted arms. You closed your eyes and let yourself float in and out of consciousness. At some point you felt warm water along your skin, soft hands gently massaging your body, and being wrapped up in clean clothes. You felt a comfy bed beneath you, seeing some face blur past you at times, but you stayed in your own little world, drifting and resting. You didn’t know how much time had passed, but you eventually had the strength to properly get up. You thought maybe you’d be alone to rest, but as you opened your eyes you found a sleepy little Jongho at your side. You reached over to pet his head, getting a little hum out of him, and having him open his eyes.
“Hi…”
“Hey, are you feeling better?”
“I’m good… did you nap with me…”
“A little break from the party doesn’t hurt.”
“Hm… yeah…”
    You carefully sat up, getting help from Jongho in the process. You felt sore all over, but you were happy, it had been a fun night, and it was a very lovely present.
“I have something for you.” Jongho handed you a little box. “Another gift.”
“Oh, what’s this?”
    You opened the box and started laughing, it was some birth control pills, and Jongho brought over some water.
“You know I take birth control, right?”
“But just in case, you can’t be too safe.”
“You don’t wanna be a daddy?”
“Oh, you better watch that mouth, I might take you up on the offer.”
“Don’t worry. I’m not ready to be a mother either.”
    You took the pills and laid back down, taking in a breath and enjoying the comfortable bed. You wanted to go back down to the party, but you still didn’t have the strength for that. You asked Jongho to help you get on your feet, even if your legs were still shaky. You managed to stand, but before you could take any steps you heard a loud commotion from out in the hall. Jongho heard too, seeming concerned when the door suddenly swung open.
“YA!”
    Seeing and hearing Chan yelled startled you, and you collapsed back on the bed. You could see the anger on his face, making you fearful.
“I cannot believe you.”
“This is a party.” Hongjoong exclaimed. “You can’t be yelling at the birthday girl.”
“Shut up! I cannot believe any of you!”
    Chan came over and shoved Jongho away, grabbing your arm and yanking you to your feet. You yelled and weren’t able to stand, immediately falling to the ground. Chan looked at you in shock, kneeling down to take a closer look. He caught sight of some of the bruises on your neck, pulling up your shirt without asking and seeing all the other marks. He quickly got up and pinned Hongjoong against the wall.
“What the fuck did you do!”
Hongjoong chuckled. “It’s a party, and we were having fun. What do you want from me? It was all consensual, I swear.”
“Chan!” You yelled. “Let him go! I’m fine! I-”
“Not a word from you!
“…”
“It’s her birthday and you come in yelling at her like this? What the hell is wrong with you?”
“That’s funny, coming from you.”
    Chan let Hongjoong go and came back over to you, pulling you up to your feet. You could barely stand, let alone walk, but he pulled you along anyway. You bit your lip to keep from making any noises and just did your best to follow. You struggled on the stairs and hid your face when you got to the bottom floor, not wanting to be seen, but of course Chan drew attention. Some of the other Ateez members noticed and rushed over, but you shook your head at them. Chan got you into his car, putting your seat belt on you and slammed the door shut. You hid your face, not able to meet anyone in the eye and stayed silent on the drive. You kept your head low, but as you looked around you noticed the streets were different.
“This isn’t the-”
“You think I’m taking you back to your place so they can go get you?”
“No, I-”
“You are unbelievable.”
“Chan-”
“Quiet! I told you to break off from them and what do I find? You have no problem lying to my face now.”
“I-”
“I told you to be quiet.”
“…”
“You’ll be staying with me until further notice.”
    You wanted to explain yourself, to at least have your voice be heard, but given what Chan just did, and your current state, it was best to remain silent. So you did. When you got to Chan’s place he got you out of the car, holding your arm and pulling you along, a lot gentler this time. He plopped you down on the couch and came back with a med kit, wanting to take a better look at you. All you really had were bruises and some nail marks, nothing too serious, but he had to be sure. You were a bit nervous, but lifted up your shirt just enough so you didn’t expose your breasts. Like you said nothing serious, and he was satisfied after checking.
“Here. It’s your clothes, put them on.”
“Thanks…”
    Your body wasn’t so sore anymore, but you did struggle a bit to make it to the bathroom. You dressed into your clothes and returned to the living room. Chan was nowhere to be seen, but you knew where he’d be. You went over into his office, seeing him looking over some papers.
“Chan…”
“Don’t. I don’t wanna hear it.”
“But-”
“You went out with a bang, literally, so let’s leave it at that.”
“I-”
“Please.”
“Yeah… yeah that’s fine…”
    You made your way over to Chan’s side, looking down at the papers on the table. You reached over to look some over, coming across an image from a CCTV.
“What’s this?”
“A partial plate from the last robbery.”
“You got a plate?”
“Partial. I honestly thought the vehicles they used didn’t have any plates, but it seems like they just cover them up.”
“It seems fortune is on our- your side. It’s progress.”
“Yeah. Minho got a bit crazy and rammed into one of the vehicles. Guess that damaged the plate cover and we managed to catch a few digits.”
“You gonna run this through your database?”
“The car itself might not even be registered, could be a fake plate to begin with. We’ll still run it, although working with a partial plate is gonna make it difficult.” 
“Any bit of progress is better than none.”
“Exactly.”
“I’m gonna get some rest.”
“You do that.”
“Don’t stay up too late.”
“No promises.”
“Night.”
“Good night, and y/n?”
“Hm?”
“Happy birthday.”
“Thanks. I’ll see you in the morning.”
    Chan kept to his word and didn’t let you leave his place. He drove you to and from school, always punctual. Even though he never said anything, you knew he was always looking around for others. You didn’t get any messages from anyone, not that you would respond, but it really made you wonder what everyone thought. Surely word got around about what happened that night. Your friends didn’t mention it either, just saying things went well. Of course Chan probably spoke with them beforehand, and you weren’t gonna pry. So you just focused on getting your life back to normal, no more secret double life stuff going on. If only it was that easy.
“How’s the body?”
    You jumped at the voice that suddenly appeared, distracting you from your notes. Your first class had been canceled so you were in the library when someone approached you. The voice was familiar, and you were a bit shy to look up, so they took a seat instead.
“You’re not hurt anywhere are you?”
“I’m fine, San.”
“You didn’t call.”
“Neither did you.”
“And have Chan scream in my ear, I didn’t wanna risk it.”
“Well he’s not monitoring my phone 24/7 so you would have been fine.”
“Then why didn’t you call?”
“San.”
“Hm?”
“What are you doing here?”
“Me? Nothing, just here to see you.”
“You’re not a student here, you should go.”
“Come on, I came all-”
“I’m a student, San.” You interrupted. “I’m not from a wealthy family, and I seriously need to focus on school if I want to get anywhere in life. It was fun getting to know you guys, but this is where we must part ways.”
“You don’t mean that. Was your birthday present-”
“Thanks for the party, and the gifts. It was a good farewell.”
“You still have all those presents back-”
“Leave. Before I call security.”
“You’d do that?”
“I wanna graduate, which means I have to pass this semester in order to get closer to my goal. Partying and racing isn’t gonna help me. Now please, go.”
“Alright… don’t be a stranger.”
“Yeah.”
    You didn’t know if that went well, but at least nothing got heated. You continued to focus on school, managing to get to finals week, and feeling confident in your skills. Test taking always sucked, but the exams actually felt easy, so you were certain you passed. After your last one, a midday one, you were going to text Chan when you ran into a familiar face.
“Congratulations.”
“Hongjoong… what are you doing here?”
“I’m here to see you of course. You’ve completed your last exam, and the semester is over, right?”
“Uh, yeah, but-”
“We should celebrate. You’re one step closer to graduation.”
“But-”
“San told us your birthday party was a farewell party, and I find that quite unfair.”
“Unfair?”
“We should have a proper going away party for you. I would have mentioned it sooner, but I understand you wanted to focus on your studies. Now that’s done, shall we?”
“Hongjoong-”
“Nothing big. Just dinner and us, I promise.”
“I can’t just-”
“I understand Chan has been keeping a watchful eye, but he’d understand you wanting to unwind today. Besides, I doubt he’ll ever know. So, may we have the honor of your company one last time?”
“Fine, but I can’t be out so late.”
“Of course.”
    Despite your better judgment you went with Hongjoong back to his place. The others were very happy to see you, and you couldn’t help the genuine smile on your face.
“First, your present.” Hongjoong said, handing you the car keys. “Here.”
“For me?”
“It should make it easier for you to get to and from school from now on. And it’ll be easier to go out and enjoy yourself.”
“I… I’m not sure I can accept this…”
“Please do.” Seonghwa stated. “We can’t possibly repay you for all the great memories we’ve made together.”
“Ah, I see.”
“Come on, let’s go inside.” Yeosang held his hand out to you. “One last dinner.”
    You took his hand and followed them all inside. The place had been cleaned up nicely since your party. It was weeks ago, but still, not a trace was left. It actually seemed a lot emptier than before. You were going to ask when Mingi suddenly took your other hand.
“We still have to set the table.” Mingi explained. “So how about we let the others do that.”
“Ya! Mingi!”
“Have fun!”
    Before anyone else could object Mingi pulled you away from the group and led you away. No one was gonna stop you two, so you ran off. Mingi took you around the house, asking how you’ve been and how your exams went. He was glad to hear you were done with the stress and felt confident in passing your classes.  You two wound up down in the garage, Mingi suggesting taking you out on one last ride. You looked at all the cars, blushing a bit when you saw the one where San and Wooyoung had given you your birthday present. Although your eyes then lingered to another car.
“Oh… isn’t that…”
    You walked over to the car that had caught your attention. You had been down in the garage multiple times before. Of course you didn’t know them all, but something about this car caught your eye.
“This looks like the car the Black Pirates drive.”
“Wa… what?”
“You know, those robberies that have taken place in the area as of late. I saw a picture of one of the cars they drive and it had a partial… plate…”
    Now that you were closer and rambling about the car you looked down at the license plate, realizing that it actually matched the partial plate that had been caught on camera.
“I didn’t know the car had been reported in the news.”
“It wasn’t… I, uh, I actually saw it online. You know things always get leaked there.”
“So you kept up with it then? Playing detective in your spare time.”
“Uh, well… yeah, kind of.”
“That’s cool.”
“Yeah… what a crazy coincidence.”
“Coincidence… right.”
“Actually we should go back upstairs. I’m sure the others are done setting up, and we can all take a ride together later.”
“That sounds like a good idea.”
    Mingi took your hand and the two of you went upstairs. You were trying not to act so nervous. You didn’t know what to do anymore, but you knew you needed to call Chan immediately. He could chew you out for all this later. Of course you could be wrong on your assumption that Ateez were the Black Pirates, but you had an uneasy feeling about everything. You needed to leave.
“Mingi.”
“Hm?”
“I just remembered that since today was my last test, me and my friends made plans to celebrate together. I can’t have dinner with you guys tonight, but maybe tomorrow.”
“But you’re already here, and your friends haven’t called.”
“I just got a text and they were asking where I was, so I should get going.”
“The others-”
“It’s not goodbye, so let’s not make it one.”
“Y/n-”
“I’ll call you guys, I promise.”
    You pulled your hand away from Mingi and calmly walked to the front door. You held yourself together not to make it look weird. At least you had a means of leaving, the present you had been given. You did fumble with the keys a bit but managed to open the door and start the car. You waved at Mingi and drove off, not really sure where you were going, but needing to get as far away as possible. It was already late, and for the most part the road was empty. You carefully reached over to grab your phone and call Chan, although it said he was unavailable. You tried multiple times, but got the same response every time.
“Come on, Chan, pick up.”
    While driving you suddenly heard the roar of an engine, looking in the rear view mirror to see two vehicles getting close. It didn’t take long to recognize the cars, and then the drivers and passengers.
“Fuck…”
    You were freaking out, knowing they’d catch up to you soon enough. You tried to call Chan again, but nothing. The cars come up on either side of you, on your left you see Jongho waving at you, asking you to stop. You didn’t feel safe, you couldn’t comply with this, so you just stepped on the gas. They seemed a bit annoyed, but continued to follow. You tried once to call Chan, but there was no answer, so you resorted to a voicemail.
“Chan, please answer your goddamn phone! When you get this, please call me back immediately. You were right, okay? Shit was dangerous and… I fucked up, but it was an accident! I didn’t… shit, they caught up to me…”
    You weren’t an experienced driver, especially when it came to speed, but you didn’t let your foot off the gas. You didn’t know how fast you were going, but just seeing the others getting closer put you on edge. You were only really focused on the road, not wanting to lose control, and then the two cars crashed against you, trying to sandwich you between them. You screamed, trying to get them off, but whatever they were doing, they were in control.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck… Chan, I’m sorry… I know you told me to stay out of it… it’s my fault alright… please just call me back so I can tell you everything… I don’t know long I can do this… the Black Pirates-”
    The others pulled back suddenly, but you still turned the wheel. The sudden movement, combined with the speed, you turned to the side and wound up flipping over. Everything happened in a blur, like the light of the world was turning on and off in slow motion. You don’t know how many times your car flipped, but at some point it stopped. Your ears were ringing, and the edges of your vision were black. The world was upside down, and you slowly looked around. You vaguely noticed the other two cars coming to a stop, seeing people rush out.
“Y/n!”
“Don’t touch the car!” Hongjoong ordered. “And someone call an ambulance.”
    With that said, Mingi ended up grabbing Wooyoung before he got close, holding him back. Yeosang dialed emergency services, and Yunho ended up grabbing San as well.
“Hyung!” Wooyung yelled. “We can’t just leave her!”
“You know why we followed her out here.”
“Hyung!”
“Seonghwa, Jongho, get the license plates.”
“HYUNG!”
    You could see some footsteps approaching, but you couldn’t make much out. There was a dull ache all over your body, although you felt more like you were floating. Still, among the chaos of everything, you didn’t want it to end this way.
“… help… save… me…”
    The two boys grabbed the license plates off the car and stepped away. No one was happy with this, but it was Hongjoong’s orders.
“… please… don’t leave… me…”
“We’re not seriously leaving her like this.” San said. “Are we?”
“The ambulance and police will be here soon, we have to go.”
“Hyung!”
“We don’t have time, let’s go.”
    You vaguely heard the sounds of sirens in the distance, followed by cars speeding off. It was hard to stay awake, but you held out, trying to wait for someone, anyone, to help. The sirens did get lower, and at some point you could see others approach. Your head was pounding and you could taste blood in your mouth, but you figured it was okay to close your eyes now. Even if you didn’t open them again, you could stay awake much longer. You heard voices, maybe speaking to you, but you just closed your eyes and sank into darkness.
    You gasped awake, panicking as you felt the restraints on your body. You were freaking out and taking in your surroundings as all these memories flooded your mind. At one point you screamed, wishing you could grab your head, but your arms were restrained. You calmed yourself and took in some deep breaths, slowly looking up at the men surrounding you. They had been watching you calmly this whole time.
“So, do you remember now?” Hongjoong asked. “Do you remember us?”
“I… I remember…”
“That’s good. We-”
“You left me…”
“Huh?”
“You left me for dead… you tried to kill me!”
    You started screaming and thrashing in your restraints. This caught them off guard and San and Wooyoung quickly reached over to grab you and hold you still.
“Ya, ya, ya.” Seonghwa knelt down before you. “Easy now, you really think we left you for dead?”
“You did! You…” Tears stung your eyes. “You left me…”
“Oh baby, why did you run?”
“Huh?”
“Why did you run away that night? What reason did you have to run from us?”
“I…”
“Mingi said you were talking about the Black Pirates, and that you suspected us. Is that why you ran away?”
“Why… why did you chase me…”
“You didn’t seem to be in your right mind when you left, and to be driving, we were worried. We tried to get you to stop, but you wouldn’t. Then the unimaginable happened…”
“And you left…”
“You had one of our cars.” Yunho said. “We race with those, and they’re designed to survive a crash and flip. You were never gonna die.”
“Liar! How would I know that!”
“Cause you’re alive and well today, aren’t you?”
“Fuck you!”
“Easy now, easy.” Yeosang interrupted. “We just wanna talk. Now that everything is back in order we should clear things up, don’t you agree?”
“Let me go! You fuckers kidnapped me! You ran me off the road and tried to kill me and now this! You’re going-”
“Aish.” Hongjoong hissed. “Let’s just cut to it then.”
    Hongjoong stepped up before you and grabbed a handful of your hair, holding your head back. Some of the others didn’t like his actions but they said nothing, just watching.
“That night you came to our place, you went down to the garage with Mingi. One of our cars caught your eye. You recognized it as a car the Black Pirates used, even mentioning the partial plate. So now, my question is, how did you know that?”
“The news-”
“The news never reported on our crimes.” Hongjoong chuckled when your eyes went wide. “Yes baby girl, we’re the Black Pirates. The news reported the robberies, but never stated they were connected, never asked the public for help identifying a car or a partial plate, so how did you know about it? You a cop?”
“It was on the-”
“Y/n, sweetie, stop playing games.” Hongjoong let you go. “We know none of the car information was ever shared with the press, or leaked online. How so? We have an inside source. That means we know that the only people who had access to that information are somehow involved with the police. Now answer the question, are you a cop?”
“…”
“Perhaps you were an informant. That makes sense too. You stuck out like a sore thumb when you first came to the races, yet you were very social and befriended everyone.”
“That sounds like an informant.” Jongho added. “I remember you got so many phone numbers at your first party.”
“…”
“Why are you so silent now? You were yelling a few minutes ago.”
“Maybe we’re wrong.” San commented. “Maybe she’s an undercover cop. The authorities suspected street racers, and then she showed up.”
“Wait, wait, wait.” Mingi interrupted. “Isn’t she close friends with Stray Kids? They suddenly came on the scene and rose to our ranks. Looking back on it now, that seems suspicious, doesn’t it?”
“Chan and the others have nothing to do with this!” You snapped.
“With what? Are you admitting to working for the police?”
“…”
“Come on now, the silent treatment again?”
“Baby, we already know the truth.” Wooyoung commented. “Chan and his little stray kids are undercover cops. We knew there was someone like that in our midst but we weren’t sure until you confirmed it for us.”
“Wa… what?”
“Don’t you remember? That night you went out drinking with friends and Yunho took you home. He was gonna drop you off at your apartment but you had him take you somewhere else. We peeked in later when it was empty and imagine our surprise at what we found.”
“No… no I didn’t-”
“Sh, it’s okay.” Yunho assured. “You were intoxicated that night, and you didn’t mean any harm. Thanks for the information, although that just begs the question, what are you? A cop or informant? My money is on the latter.”
“…”
“You don’t have to be shy. We-”
“Don’t hurt him… any of them… please…”
“Now we’re getting somewhere.” Seonghwa chuckled. “Are you ready to be honest?”
“Just leave him alone…”
“Alright. So what are you then?”
“A volunteer…”
“Huh?”
“I’m not a cop… or informant… I just wanted to help…”
“Is that why you were so genuine with us? It was never a mask. Do you consider us your friends?”
“… I did…”
“Did? Past tense? You know we were genuine with you too, right?”
“What does that-”
“We’re not bad guys.” Yeosang added. “We’ve never hurt anyone. Just robbed some banks.”
“Why…”
“That’s hardly the point here. We may have met under special circumstances, but we’re friends. More than friends I’d say.”
“What?”
“You know…” Jongho began. “That night, we wanted to invite you to come with us.”
“Huh?”
“You were done with school and we were leaving this place. We wanted you to join us. To go on a new adventure together. Of course you ran off before we could propose the idea.”
“Me? Why… why would I go with you?”
“Don’t you remember your birthday party? I think that night speaks for itself.”
“I… that doesn’t…” You took a breath. “Do you think we have something? That beyond being friends there was more to this relationship?”
“Well, isn’t there?”
“No… you were my friends once, but I was reminded time and time again we come from different worlds. Anything between us was never gonna work out, so I had to let go first.”
“And look how that went.” Mingi commented. “You got scared and ran off, got yourself hospitalized too. Gosh, it was so annoying when Chan came busting down our doors with the police. It makes more sense now how he managed to do that.”
“What did you say?”
“Did he not tell you? Once you were stable he stormed our house looking for any evidence to insinuate that we ran you off the road. Of course he was trying to use the fact we were in the middle of moving to make his point, but that got him nowhere.”
“…”
“As you know, we were always planning to move.” Yunho added. “It’s why we wanted to ask you that night, but of course even if things didn’t go our way, we still had things set up. So the move continued, even if Chan was crawling all over our property and checking all our vehicles. He walked away empty handed.”
“Leave him out of this. I won’t tell him anything, so just let me go.”
“Let you go? We have all kinds of history-”
“That’s the past. You left me for dead on the road, and never came back. We’ve already parted ways.”
Wooyoung chuckled. “We never came back? Is that what you think? Oh baby, that’s far from the truth.”
“The hell are you talking about?”
“Aish. We were gonna get you from the hospital but Seonghwa got interrupted.”
“What?”
“We told you that we wanted to leave with you.” Seonghwa stated. “It was hard to find a moment when Chan wasn’t around to sneak in, and then you woke up to my surprise.”
“You… you were the one…”
“We were all so upset when Seonghwa reported your amnesia.” Hongjoong continued. “But you disappeared with Chan after you left the hospital so there was no way to check in on you. We had to wait till school started up again and hope to see you on campus. Thankfully we did, and the moments you interacted with some of us, it really showed you didn’t remember us at all. It was very upsetting, until we found out your memories were returning.”
“And so you kidnapped me?”
“We should be there for the important moment.”
“You drugged me and forced me-”
“Ya, that’s all in the past now. What matters is that you remember everything, and we’re together.”
“Let me go.”
“Not gonna happen.”
“Let. Me. Go. I want nothing to do with you, so I won’t say anything. Just let me go.”
“What part of no did you not understand?” San questioned. “We’ve been waiting for you for months. You don’t get to walk away like this.”
“We’re not friends anymore, and weren’t not anything else. So let me go.”
“Or what?” Yeosang asked. “What are you gonna do? Cause you’re still tied up in our garage baby. You gonna escape?”
“You-”
“We have no intention of letting you go. You’re staying with us either way. So get comfy.”
“Let me-”
“We only came back to this old town looking for you.” Hongjoong stated. “Now that we found you we can make preparations to leave and be on our way.”
“You can’t do this! Chan will realize I’m missing soon and-”
“What? He’ll come knocking on our door like he did when you got into your accident? We already told you he walked away empty handed, and that’s gonna happen again. No one is taking you away from us, not even you.”
“You’re all fucken psychos!”
“Yeah, yeah maybe we are.” Hongjoong grabbed your face. “But there’s just something about you that calls out to me. From the moment our eyes met, I just knew I had to have you. Being near you felt right, as if we had been together before, as if it was meant to be. Like some kind of deja vu.”
“You won’t get away with this!”
“I’m sure you felt it too. Heck, when my boys got close you admitted to feeling something familiar about them. Not to mention how we met again.”
“You-”
“I know you get deja vu.”
“…”
“So let’s stop pretending, okay?” Hongjoong let you go. “You guys know what to do with her. Make sure she’s comfortable until we leave.”
“Got it.”
“No! No, you can’t do this!”
“Just hold on for a while longer.” Seonghwa kissed your head. “We’ll begin again properly.”
“Let me go! You psychos! Let me go!”
    Some of them walked off, meanwhile San and Wooyoung held you down again. Yunho walked up to you with another needle and you tried to get him away, but you could only watch as something was injected into your arm.
“Don’t be scared, everything’s gonna be okay, you’ll see.”
“No! Please, please don’t do this.”
“Sh, just get some rest. We can talk more later.”
     You felt someone undoing your restraints, and once you were free you tried to jump Yunho, but you could feel your strength leaving you. Despite your efforts you couldn’t stay awake, and he easily scooped you up in his arms. His gentle voice was lulling you to sleep, and eventually you shut your eyes. Fading into the unknown with no idea what awaited you.
“There, there, sweet dreams love. Dream of us.”
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sere-ness-ima · 9 months
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Arguments against giving personifications a universal language (or another method of communicating with each other immediately and without any problem)
(Ok, this was a little clickbaity. First of all, I absolutely don’t intend to say that whoever does it is wrong. Like everything in Hetalia worldbuilding, it’s a matter of personal preference and goals we set for our story. Additionally I absolutely think that heavy focus on this matter would be detrimental for the story and unapproachable by audience other than a couple of crazy linguists.
Unfortunately I happen to be a crazy linguist, so here’s what I actually mean by this post:)
Fun linguistic things to consider in the context of Hetalia :D
Now, personally, I feel like the universal language takes away from the naturality of their relationships, *especially* so-called “first contact”, but not only that. Language is an enormous part of international relationships through the ages and removing this part from the equation results in the personifications not experiencing this side of their people’s history.
Sometimes in a story you don’t want two nations to understand each other. It happens. I’d much rather have choice than create a rule that takes this possibility from me.
The question of “which languages these two characters share” is interesting; it silently reminds of their history and points to cultural circles they belong to, as a subtle storytelling tool. (Other than that, deciding that is insanely fun, but this might be a linguist thing?)
Languages can be symbolic for other details of relationships. Think Lithuania speaking outdated Polish, from 19th century at best, because he didn’t have many opportunities to catch-up with the living language after that, now they’re not together with Poland anymore. [/personal hc, but even if they were, I think he’d still lag behind].
Another case, think a weaker country speaking the language of the stronger country, never the other way around, indicating a power imbalance between them.
Think a weaker country [personally I’m thinking a friend’s Serbia] absolutely refusing to speak the language of the stronger country, forcing them to seek compromises or use an interpreter or more drastic measures.
The lingua franca, whatever it would be, automatically carries a huge cultural and social influence with it. I believe the personifications should be prone to it too.
Another linguist thing, but I find communication struggles fascinating and endearing. There’s so much cultural exchange to be drawn from a second language user: which parts of learning are difficult for them, which are easy; what mistakes they make and how are these influenced by their native speech; what words do they choose to use, what do they think a chair’s gender is, do they sound soft or harsh or have an accent? If two Slavs talk to each other in English, is it correct English or do they use Slavic pronunciation and grammar to make it easier for themselves, causing a distress for each anglophone that hears them?
Another linguist thing, but a lot of pairs of countries that technically don’t have a common language can probably communicate with ease anyway. I want to see them go wild. I want to see them make a mixtape out of their French and Latin to talk to an Italian, I want distant Asian countries to talk to each other in English that no actual English person would understand, I want to see Latin America NOT understanding each other despite theoretically all speaking Spanish. And I want to see two distant countries find out that their only common language is something completely unexpected they’ve studied out of boredom.
I want to see the poor couple of nations without decent linguistic skills SUFFER.
Some of you speak like not having a common language was an unconquerable obstacle that would destroy all the fun and be a giant problem in the storyline. But I don’t really see how? Our ancestors did it. They travelled, they met other nations and they had to learn how to communicate with them. Some of them saw the opposite thing happen: they used to understand their neighbours without problem, but as the nations found themselves under different influences, the languages drifted away from each other until the similarities became unrecognizable. People across the ages have been learning languages, travelling and communicating. There are teachers, translators (my friend Laurynas says he’d like to see translators acknowledged), interpreters, etymology, lingua franca and body language all for them to use. I am not 25 yet and I speak 4, with a certain pain I can communicate in 6, and I could probably visit 100 countries of the world without worrying about the language issue at all. My nations are 100 years old. I just don’t think they need additional help. They'll slay :D
There were a couple ideas I’ve seen pro-universal language that I liked, so thought I’d share:
One, as beetroot said, being able to communicate with one personification doesn’t mean the countries wouldn’t have to learn languages, as the rest of the society wouldn’t be able to understand it. Therefore, most of these “fun linguist things” would appear anyway, just not between personifications. For me it’s a bummer, although acceptable. For someone else it can be more than enough.
Two, a quote from my friend Huku:
“Universal language is also a thing that helps them identify each other, which is a cool trick. It explains why, upon finding a personification in a swamp, the nation knows that this child is a personification and not some random mortal. Besides, nations from distant cultures also find it hard to communicate initially, because maybe the language is universal, but the context is foreign, the metaphors unreadable, the wording strange.”
Three, at first I didn't like morgenlich’s version that the language “can’t be written down because of magic”, but after seeing a suggestion that it wouldn’t be an actual language, just a mysterious way of understanding each other, the idea sounds more approachable to me. Cheers!
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