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peakyswritings · 6 months

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Heart, Body and Soul || Tommy Shelby x OC

PART V

Summary: As they get closer, Tommy and Nina start to realise that their time together is limited. However, an unexpected event makes the tables turn.

Warnings: mentions of arranged marriage, slow-burn, small age-gap (Tommy’s 30, Nina is in her early 20s), time-typical misogyny, mentions of war, mentions of mutilation, this chapter contains triggering themes, such as sexual assault and violence. Read at your own risk.

A/N: I hope this is worth the wait! Useful information: in the first part of this chapter Nina is 17. She’s depicted as naive, maybe a bit too much for a seventeen-year-old, but bear in mind that she grew up in an extremely conservative environment. Also, I wrote all the dialogues in English because it would’ve been too much of a mess to switch between the languages, so keep in mind that whilst the dialogues between Nina and Agnese could be in both languages since they’re bilingual, the ones between Nina and Stefano are technically in Italian. Last, some things from the previous chapters are really important for this one. I do not claim any ownership to the dialogues excerpts taken from the show. English is not my first language.

After this way too long note, I hope you enjoy this chapter☀️

PREVIOUS PART

SERIES MASTERLIST

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1915, five years earlier

“They say Italy might join the war soon.”

It was the first time Nina voiced her concerns. She always had the feeling that if she expressed what was troubling her out loud, it would inevitably, irrevocably become true. But she had been bottling up that fear of hers for weeks now, and it had been growing and growing, consuming her from the inside. The weight of the basket she was carrying was nothing compared to the weight of uncertainty, of not knowing what to expect.

“They say that at your school?” Agnese asked absentmindedly, looking in the windows of the small bakery they always used to stop by when they were children, because they knew the owner would give them freshly baked biscuits for free.

“They say that everywhere,” Nina murmured, kicking a stone with her foot.

Agnese had heard about that possibility, and it scared her as well, but she didn’t fully understand the extent of the seriousness of the situation. No one ever bothered to explain it to her, and every time she asked questions about it, her family would just brush it off. She shouldn’t trouble herself with such nonsense, they said. And although she could ask Nina, she never found the courage to do it, far too ashamed of her own ignorance. Her cousin knew lots of things, talked about serious matters, had opinions that contrasted with everything they had ever been taught, and most of the times Agnese had troubles following the things she said. But she said them with such conviction, such mastery that she couldn’t help but agree with her. And she suspected that the reason why no one ever listened to Nina was because they had troubles following her as well. There was something unsettling in her cleverness.

“I’m worried about my brothers,” Nina admitted. “They’re old enough to be enlisted.”

Agnese shifted her attention back on her cousin, sending her a sympathetic look. “Maybe we won’t enter the war. And even if we do, maybe they won’t have to go. Your father can find a way to-”

“They’re not cowards,” Nina interrupted her with resolution, shaking her head. “The Spinietta brothers are cowards. Pietro and Salvatore are not like them.”

“What do the Spiniettas have to do with it?”

“I heard my father say that if we join the war, Mr. Spinietta already knows who to talk to to make sure his kids are not enlisted. He’ll shake a few hands, make a few threats, and they will be safe and warm in their houses. He might even send them to America, they have relatives there.”

Truth was, Nina wished they’d be sent to America. She wanted them to be as far away as possible from her, from the village. They walked around as if they owned every street, every shop, every person; as if everything was owed to them, because they had money and power. But everybody knew where that money came from. And even though she was aware that her family wasn’t any different, that their own money was mostly blood money, she still believed that her brothers were better than them.

“They’re cowards. Cowards and bastards, that’s what they are,” she gritted her teeth.

“You can’t say things like that,” Agnese hissed with wide eyes, frantically looking around to make sure no one was there to hear her. “Lower your voice.”

“I’m just telling the truth. They’re bastards. Sick bastards. You’ve seen how they’ve dragged that poor girl in their car, last week.”

Nina watched as her cousin pressed her lips together, avoiding her gaze. The episode had left both of them with a bitter taste in their mouths, and a feeling of powerlessness that haunted them still. They didn’t know why they had done what they had done, what they would do to her, but somehow they knew it wouldn’t be anything good. Because despite the kind smiles they were wearing and the false gentleness with which they had guided her into the car, it was clear that they were forcing her. The two cousins heard some girls say that she wasn’t the first, and probably wouldn’t be the last, and that the reason why they targeted her was because she had no father nor brothers.

Everyday since that day, Nina cursed herself for not intervening. Would things have gone differently, if she had said something? Would she have been in trouble as well? What kind of trouble was that girl even in? She didn’t have the answers.

Now she carried a pocket knife with her. If they even tried to get close to her, or to another girl in her presence, she wouldn’t be afraid to use it.

“You still can’t say things like that.”

“It’s not like they can do anything,” Nina shrugged.

There was a delicate balance between the families, assured by mutual fear and by the possibility of a bloodbath that wouldn’t suit anyone. But even that wasn’t enough to guarantee peace, one wrong step was all it would take to disrupt that balance. It was like a bomb waiting to explode.

“I need to buy some thread for my mum,” Agnese changed the subject, stopping in front of a shop. “Wait for me here.”

As her cousin disappeared into the shop, Nina placed the heavy basked on the ground to clench and unclench her sore hand. She slightly rubbed the red marks which were appearing on her palm, wincing at the pulsating sensation. The rev of an engine came to her ears, and before her mind could register what was happening, a car stopped in front of her. Stefano Spinietta stuck his head out of the window and sent her a smile, showing a perfect set of white teeth. “You want a ride home?”

Nina frowned, trying to suppress the feeling of disgust that came over her at the mere sight of his face. “No.” She said firmly, the lump in her throat preventing her from saying anything else. She had always hated how nervous she was when he spoke to her, when he looked at her. He always looked at her as if he wanted something from her. What it was, she could not tell, but it made her feel incredibly uneasy. His handsome features and immaculate manners didn’t fool her.

“Don’t worry, I don’t bite,” he taunted her, getting out of the car. “Let me help you with that.” Stefano reached his hand towards the basket, but before he could take it, Nina pushed it away with her foot. A glimmer of amusement flashed through his eyes, lighting up his face.

Her hand went to her pocket, and she clutched the small knife tightly, the weapon giving her a new found sense of security. She looked right into his eyes, and spoke enunciating each word carefully. “I said no.”

“I just wanna take you home,” Stefano insisted, his stupid smile still plastered on his face. “C’mon, get in the car.” He took ahold of her arm, slightly squeezing it as if he wanted to reassure her.

A wave of uncontrollable rage coursed through Nina, and in a matter of seconds she had him pushed against his car, her blade grazing his throat. Surprise spread across his features as he looked down at her.

“Touch me again,” she said through gritted teeth, “and I’ll cut your throat.”

Silence fell between them as they glared at each other in an unspoken competition, both of them waiting for the other to cave in. Nina forced herself to keep her burning gaze on him, while every muscle in her body urged her to run away. Instead, she didn’t move, head high, hand steady. She wouldn’t bend. She couldn’t bend. Stefano slowly held his hands up in surrender, the shadow of a grin playing at the corners of his mouth. Under her confused look, he slightly leaned forward, causing the blade to pierce his skin, and a trickle of blood seeped from the small wound, red, thick. It ran all the way down to Nina’s hand, and its slimy texture almost made her flinch. Stefano, on the other hand, had regained his composure, as if he was the one in control of the situation, as if he didn’t have a knife pointed at his throat.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed out, staring at her with an indecipherable look in his eyes.

Nina hesitated for a moment, then, with a swift movement, she took a step back and placed the knife back in her pocket, suddenly aware that she had held her breath the whole time. Stefano sent her one last glance, before turning around and going back in his car without saying another word.

As he drove away, she glanced down at the crimson stain on her hand with wide eyes, her heart thumping in her chest. When Agnese walked out of the shop, unaware of what had just happened, she closed her shaking fingers in a fist, and hid her hand into her pocket.

“What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” her cousin chuckled, looping her arm though hers. “Let’s go home.”

Present day

“I swear to God, I swear to God…she gave me sixpence. She sends me to the shop for margarine, eggs and bread. When I came back…”

“With a top hat and a coconut,” Nina shook her head, a laugh escaping her lips.

“And that was all the money we had for the whole fucking week,” Tommy stopped to lit his cigarette, then he raised his eyebrows, a smirk growing on his face. “And me mum beat me with a fucking frying pan.”

“Why the hell did you buy a top hat and a coconut?”

“‘Cause I thought she deserved it. I thought we all did. And I could never understand,” he hit his hand on the table, a hint of some old anger creeping into his voice, “why people like us only had bread and fucking lard. And I wanted to be different. That’s what I wanted.” Silence fell between them as he took a drag from his cigarette, his gaze getting lost in old memories.

Their late-night chats had become a habit now. The night after the first one, for some reason, Nina went downstairs to make herself a cup of tea, and, for the same unknown reason, Tommy went into the kitchen with a dry throat. Just like every night since then. They stayed up late, sharing thoughts, doubts and memories, whispering them into the night and letting it take them away. Over the past week, Nina had come to realise that there was way more than Tommy let on behind his stoic facade, and she found herself wishing to know more. As for Tommy, he liked hearing her talk. She had something to say, and she wasn’t afraid to say it. It was refreshing, and a nice change from the hordes of people who repeated somebody else’s words like parrots, without fully understanding their meaning.

“And you are different, aren’t you?”

The depth of Nina’s eyes became too much to bear. For the first time, Tommy suddenly felt exposed. It was as if she was reading right into him, as if she had him completely figured out, as if every thought, every fear, every unspoken word was no longer a secret. It scared him.

He cleared his throat, stomping out his cigarette. “I heard your brothers also fought in the war.”

“Yes,” she nodded. “They were at Caporetto.”

Pietro and Salvatore still bore the marks of that defeat, both physical and mental. Pietro, the older one, had almost lost an arm in combat, and even though two years had passed, sometimes it still hurt. But in exchange for the arm, the war took something else away from him. There seemed to be nothing left of his once caring nature, and his innate attention for details had turned into a urge to have everything under control. As for Salvatore, the war had enhanced the restlessness that had always distinguished him. He was angry, easily triggered, spiteful. And now he had a deep scar which crossed the left side of his face, making his expression appear even more grim. However, in Nina’s eyes, Pietro was still the boy who fought for her to keep on going to school, just like Salvatore was still the playful kid who took advantage of their size difference to sweep her off her feet and spin her around. But they were not those kids anymore. A line was drawn between Nina and her brothers, and that line became a breach, and that breach had continued to open up until an abyss yawned beneath their feet.

Nina took a sip from her cup of tea, sensing that it might be time to change the subject. The war was clearly a sore point for both of them, although for different reasons. “Agnese told me you like horses,” she sat up straight in her chair, her gaze lighting up with curiosity.

“Yes, I do like horses.”

“When I was a child I wanted to learn how to ride. I even asked my father to buy me a horse for my birthday,” she reminisced, a small laugh escaping her lips. “My mum threatened to leave for good if he ever dared to come home with a horse.”

“So you didn’t get the horse.”

“I didn’t get the horse.”

“You know, I’ve got horses, I could teach you how to ride one,” he proposed, the words escaping his mouth before he could think about what he was saying. Then he realised, and he paused for a moment. He wouldn’t get to teach her. A faint, bitter smile appeared on his lips. “I mean, when you come to Birmingham to visit your cousin.”

Nina couldn’t explain the strange effect his words had on her, the sharp stab of sadness that hit her right in her chest. She brushed off that feeling, telling herself it was just the thought of not seeing Agnese - her only friend and the only ally she had in that family - to cause it.

But Tommy recognised the stinging sensation that was rising up inside him, a sensation he had already felt before. A sensation he couldn’t admit, not even to himself.

“How are things with Tommy?” Nina casually asked her cousin, struggling to hang a bedsheet on the clothesline to dry in the shared backyard.

A sly smile flickered on Agnese’s face as she glanced at the black-haired girl, keeping on folding the dry clothes. “You call him Tommy now?”

Her question made Nina’s movements come to a stop. She shut her eyes for a moment, cursing herself for letting the man’s name slip out of her mouth. She hadn’t told anyone about how she and Tommy were on better terms, about the frequent conversations that had brought them to that point. She had been extra careful not to show the slightest hint of friendliness towards him in public, for she knew people would talk. She couldn’t risk Agnese getting the wrong idea. “Only when he isn’t around,” she murmured, starting to hang the laundry again.

That wasn’t too far away from the truth, though. Although Tommy did call her by her first name, she didn’t remember ever doing the same with him. She didn’t call him Mr Shelby anymore, either. She just didn’t address him. For some reason, calling him by his name seemed too personal. It felt like crossing a line that was not supposed to be crossed.

“I almost thought you were starting to approve of him,” Agnese joked, letting out a small giggle.

Nina forced a laugh, shaking her head, and a sense of guilt rose inside her. She told herself it was just an innocent, white lie; those secret conversations didn’t mean anything. It wasn’t even a lie, just an omission of truth. A justified omission of truth.

Then why did she feel so bad?

Agnese fiddled with the necklace Tommy had given her, pondering her words. “He doesn’t seem to be…taken with me,” she revealed, a glimpse of worry shining in her green irises. “Don’t get me wrong, he’s a gentleman, and he’s been nothing but polite to me, but… I don’t think he likes me.”

“Agnese, are you joking?” Nina hung the last shirt, before turning towards her cousin. It pained her to see her like that. She was the most beautiful person she knew, inside and out, and she didn’t deserve anything less than being happy. “I’m sure he does. How couldn’t he?”

“What if he doesn’t love me?”

“Love will come with time,” Nina walked up to her to take her hands in hers with a reassuring smile. “Everything will turn out for the best. You have to believe that.”

She felt relieved as Agnese nodded, worry starting to fade from her expression. Truth be told, even Nina didn’t fully believe her own words. She couldn’t be sure that Tommy would grow to love her cousin, nor that they would have a happy marriage; she couldn’t be sure that the war that would follow with Sabini would end well for them. But she said what Agnese needed to hear, because she didn’t have the heart to to make her fears seem even more real.

“Thank you, Nina.” Agnese whispered, wrapping her arms around her. When Nina awkwardly returned the embrace, patting her on the back, her cousin couldn’t hold back a chuckle. It was no secret that Nina wasn’t big on physical affection, but for a few selected people - that she didn’t have the courage to push away - she brought herself to tolerate it. At least she tried.

“I need to help my mum with lunch,” the brown-haired girl said, breaking the hug to grab the basket full of dry clothes. “She’ll have my head if I don’t.”

“You’d better go, then.”

As Agnese walked back to her house, Nina finished hanging the laundry, humming a little song to herself. She tried to keep her mind busy with futile thoughts, like what Winston might be doing in that moment, what she would eat for lunch, which book she would start to read after finishing the one she was currently reading. She thought about anything and everything in order to keep her mind off Tommy, Agnese and their departure, off her father and what he had told her that day in his study, off the uncertainty about how her life would turn out. It was a nice day, and she didn’t want to plague herself with such worries. However, in the back of her mind, all of that was still present, poisoning even the nicest of thoughts.

When she turned around, the figure of a man leaning against the wall of the house made her flinch. Stefano Spinietta was standing there in silence, observing her, and she had to fight the urge to ask him how long he had been staring at her. “What are you doing here?” She frowned, collecting herself.

“Business meeting. Your father gave me permission to spend some time with you, while he talks with mine,” he explained, pushing himself away from the wall.

A scowl formed on Nina’s face, and a new wave of irritation ran through her, this time directed at her father. All that speech about him wanting her to make the decision for herself was, indeed, just speech. Words he had said to keep her nice and quiet as he indirectly pushed her down the path he had charted for her. “What makes you think I want to spend time with you?”

Stefano’s lips curled in his ever-present grin, as if he found great amusement in her reactions. But that was exactly the point, to some extent. It had become a game to him, some sort of dark, twisted game. The more she rejected him, the more stubborn he became. Something that had started years ago as a mere interest, had slowly taken a different turn. He wanted her, he had been wanting her since she had drawn a knife at his throat. She was carved under his skin just like the scar her blade had left on his neck. There was something about her. Maybe it was her defiance, her refusal to bend, to mould herself into what she should be. He could make her. He could smother the flames of her fierceness and turn her into a quiet pretty thing. “Why do you always have to be so hostile?” He asked her, squinting his eyes.

His question made Nina’s annoyance grow even more. As if he had no clue of how much he had pestered her all those years. Now he had the courage to act all innocent, to play the part of the nice, polite guy who was just courting a girl he liked. He might’ve fooled everyone with that act, but he had never fooled her. “You asked my father his blessing to marry me.” She snapped, taking some steps in his direction. “Did you really think he’d say yes?”

“He never said no.”

“I did.”

Silence fell between them as they stared at each other, once again refusing to be the first to cave in. But this time it didn’t take Nina any effort to keep her eyes on him. She wasn’t a naive seventeen-year-old anymore. Now she knew what it was that he wanted from her. And his gaze didn’t intimidate her anymore.

“Listen to me, Stefano, and listen to me carefully, because I’m not going to repeat myself,” she said in a low voice, coming even closer to him. “You disgust me. You and all your kind,” she spelled out, making sure to emphasise each word. “And I’d much rather jump in front of a train than marrying you.”

Stefano didn’t say anything, at first. He just clenched his jaw, and his hands balled into fists by his side. Then he broke into a half-smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes, trying not to let his wounded ego show. “I’ve been nice to you, and yet you keep on insulting me.”

This time it was him who got closer, towering over Nina. His eyes darkened, and he looked at her with such contempt that for a moment she had the impression he might hit her. With a quick, sudden movement, he grasped her jaw, and before she had the time to react, he turned to push her against the wall. She looked up at him, trying not to show an ounce of fear as her heart increased its speed.

“My patience has limits. And you shouldn’t forget who you’re talking to,” Stefano gritted out through clenched teeth, digging his fingers in her cheeks. His whole body shook with anger, and the mask of politeness he always hid behind began to fall apart. “You’re playing with fire.”

The same uncontrollable rage that years ago gave Nina the courage to point a knife at him now gave her the strength to stomp on his foot, making him hiss and take a step back. Taking advantage of his distraction, she darted forward, but as soon as he tried to escape, Stefano forcefully slammed her against the wall again, holding her in place by the throat. A sharp sting of pain flashed through her spine at the impact with the cold surface, and a whimper escaped her lips as the air was knocked out of her lungs. Fury flared in Stefano’s dark eyes, but then something changed in his expression. His pupils dilated, and he seemed to lose any kind of control over his actions as his hand left her throat to slowly wander down her body.

An overwhelming sense of panic started to rise inside Nina. She wriggled, trying to free herself from his grasp. “Stop,” she raised her voice, but Stefano promptly covered her mouth with the other hand, pressing his body against hers. She squeezed her eyelids shut when his hand became more insistent, squeezing her small breast in a painful hold, then travelling down to her hipbone to keep her still with bruising force. His hot breath burned on her skin as he leaned over her, bringing his face closer to hers. Nina tried to turn her head in response, but the hand he still had on her mouth wouldn’t allow it. She emitted a muffled sound, bringing her hands to his chest to push him away, but he was too strong, and twice her size. All her desperate efforts to put some space between them were useless. He was a rabid animal, a wild beast devoid of any rational thinking as he ground against her, trying to slide his filthy hand under her skirt. Nina’s face scrunched in disgust, and her whole body stiffened under this touch. A whirlwind of thoughts swirled around in her head, endless, confusing, as if she couldn’t exactly register what was happening.

Then he stopped. Much to Nina’s surprise, Stefano suddenly seemed to come to himself, and he took his hand off her mouth. But there wasn’t a hint of guilt, or regret, in his eyes. On the contrary, he looked almost satisfied. And then she realised. He had been in command of his actions the whole time. “What, you don’t talk anymore?” He asked provocatively.

Nina’s wide eyes rested on Stefano in shock. The lump in her throat kept on growing and growing, making it impossible for her to utter a single sentence. She swallowed, trying to regain some kind of control over her emotions, to force herself to speak, and when she did, she faked a confident tone. However, the trembling in her voice betrayed her fear. “Once my family hears about this, you’ll-”

“I didn’t do anything you didn’t want, love,” he interrupted her, furrowing his brows, his face assuming a perplexed expression.

“What…” she batted her eyelashes in confusion, her voice barely above a whisper. “No, I didn’t...” the words died in her throat as the awareness of his implications started to set in.

Stefano leaned in, bringing his hand to her cheek to caress it with fake tenderness, and a terrible smile made its way on his face. “Who do you think they’ll believe?”

Nina shook her head, a feeling of helplessness she had never felt before taking over her. She just wanted him to leave. She wanted him to take his hands off of her. She wanted to kick him, to scream at him, to dig her nails in his face deeply enough to make him bleed, and yet all she could do was look at him in silence.

But then someone must’ve heard her prayers, because Stefano was abruptly pulled away from her. It was as if some kind of supernatural gust of wind had ripped him away from her body, freeing her from the heavy weight that had her pressed against the stone surface. Except that it wasn’t some supernatural force. The person who had grabbed Stefano by the collar of his shirt was very much human.

“The fuck are you doing?” Tommy growled, his knuckles turning white from the tight grip he had on the man. Stefano, not understanding a word he had said, just raised his hands, as if to show that he meant no harm.

Tommy had recognised the guy. He was the one they had met two weeks ago in the city, the one who had given him a bad feeling as soon as they had met. He couldn’t explain the pure rage he had felt when he caught him holding Nina against a wall. Her scared, helpless expression was all it took for him to see red and launch at the Italian man. The thought of what could’ve happened if the meeting with the Ferrantes and the Spiniettas had finished just a bit too late made his skin crawl. Still holding him by the collar, Tommy raised his fist, driven by the sudden urge to break his nose, but before he could land the blow, Nina’s voice stopped him.

“Don’t!” She exclaimed, causing him to look in her direction. “He’s Spinietta’s son,” she frantically explained, getting a bit closer, but still keeping herself at safe distance.

Tommy shifted his eyes on the Italian man again, his fist still in the air, and pondered for a few seconds. Although Stefano couldn’t understand Nina’s words, he probably had a vague idea of what she had said, because the corners of his lips tugged upwards as he stared at Tommy steadily. Nina held her breath, her heart skipping a beat at the Italian’s implicit provocation. Tommy was really close to doing something that might put him in a dangerous situation, and it seemed like Stefano was doing everything in his power to encourage him. It was part of his fun, of his sick little game.

Feeling his hands itch even more, Tommy charged again, nostrils flaring, almost letting his impulse win. Fuck Spinietta, he thought to himself. But he was not in Small Heath. Begrudgingly, he lowered his hand and let the guy go with a violent push, making him stumble backwards. “Fuck off,” he snarled, pointing towards the path that led to the main garden to get his message across.

Nina sighed in relief, and she wasn’t sure whether it was because Tommy had made the right choice, or because that situation was over. Stefano took the time to straighten his shirt with unsettling composure. Without saying another word and keeping on watching them, he walked past them, his wicked eyes shining with amusement.

The adrenaline started to wear off, leaving Nina in a growing state of dizziness. The panic, the disgust, the anger. All of that became a single, indistinct mass aiming to engulf her and suffocate her. Her ears started to ring, and she had to fight the instinct to cover them and scream at the top of her lungs.

“Are you alright?” Tommy’s voice came to her ears, snapping her out of her trance.

“Yes.” She nodded, blinking a few times. Now aware of her surroundings, she felt as if she was re-entering her body after rising out of it, and the reality of what had happened was crashing on her. Bile raised in her throat, and she knew that if she had had something in her stomach, she would’ve thrown up. “Yes I’m alright.”

“Nina, you’re shaking,” Tommy noted with a hint of worry in his voice, his own heart still racing in his chest.

“No, no I’m fine,” she insisted, turning her face to hide the tears welling up in her eyes. She tightly crossed her arms over her chest, hoping that her hands would stop trembling. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine.” He shook his head, tentatively reaching out to hear. He was approaching her slowly, almost with apprehension, with his palm open, like one would do with a scared stray cat. “Come here.”

Nina hesitated for a while, torn between what she needed and what she was supposed to do, instinct and reason endlessly fighting. For once, she chose to act without thinking. Cautiously, she pulled Tommy into a hug, resting her head against his chest. Hit by an implacable wave of tenderness, he gently wrapped his arms around her, placing his chin on the top of her head. It didn’t make sense, but having her safe in his arms brought him a sense of calmness and security, and his tense body began to relax.

The warmth of his body, his scent, the reassuring sound of his heartbeat, the unfamiliar softness he was showing her; the combination between all of that gave life to a feeling Nina had never felt before, and she couldn’t put a name to it. Between all of that, she was relieved by the awareness that, at least for that moment, she didn’t need to be strong. Tears began to spill out, and her facade fell for the first time.

When a suffocated sob escaped her lips, shaking her slender shoulders, Tommy’s heart painfully clenched in his chest. His hand found the back of her head, and he started to soothingly run his fingers through her soft dark hair. He wanted to say something, but he knew that there was nothing he could say that would make it better. So he held her tighter, as if he could shield her from harm with the sole strength of his arms.

“Breathe, love,” he whispered when he noticed that, in an attempt to hold back her sobs, she had tensed up a bit too much. “Breathe.”

Nina took a deep breath, focusing on Tommy’s deep voice and the delicate motion of his fingers through her hair.

“There you go,” he murmured encouragingly, feeling her calm down against him. She sniffled, snuggling even closer, and, once again, Tommy was overwhelmed by the need to protect her.

They couldn’t care less if someone saw them. In that moment, their embrace was the only thing that mattered.

Laying on her side with her knees drawn up, Nina stared at the shadows created by the small lamp on her bedside table. She could still feel the heaviness of Stefano’s hands on her, the burning of his hot breath on her skin, the suffocating smell of his cologne. She only wanted to get rid of those hands, that breath, that smell. She would gladly rip off her whole skin if it meant to forget.

She hated herself for allowing him to make her feel small, weak, for he had made it quite clear that was what he wanted. Because even though for a moment he had indulged in the temptation, he wouldn’t actually dare go through with it, not in her house. His purpose was to show her that he could overpower her at any time.

But then came feeling of being wrapped in Tommy’s arms, of being pressed against his strong frame, the feeling she had been desperately trying to give a name to. Until it occurred to her. Safe. She had felt safe.

A soft knock on the door of her bedroom pulled her out of the vortex of thoughts. She sat up on the bed, crossing her legs beneath her. “Come in,” she said, but her voice was so feeble that she doubted the person on the other side had heard her. Still, the door opened, and in the dim, warm light, Tommy’s figure appeared on the doorstep.

He had never been in her room, but somehow it was exactly like he had imagined it. Ivory-coloured walls covered in a pattern of small flowers, dark wooden furniture, lace curtains. Handwritten sheets of paper scattered all over the desk, along with pens and pencils. It was bit messy and full of books, and it smelled like her. A mixture of lavender and honey.

When that night Tommy had come out of his room, the first thing he noticed was the unsettling silence. No rattle of pots coming from downstairs. But a half-light shone through Nina’s bedroom door, and he found himself desperately needing to know how she was. She had been avoiding everyone the whole day.

“I just wanted to check up on you,” his deep voice came out in a low sound, and it held some kind of uncertainty. He wasn’t sure that going to her had been a good idea. Maybe she didn’t want to see him, maybe knocking on her door was too much.

His doubts faded when the ghost of a smile formed on her face, and she motioned for him to come in. He carefully closed the door behind him, then went to sit on the edge of the bed, keeping his distance. A vice-like grip held his stomach when he noticed her puffy eyes and red cheeks. How many times had she cried?

“You’re paler than usual,” Nina teased him to ease the tension, but her voice didn’t hold the bantering tone he had grown used to hear. “You should get some sleep.”

Tommy half-smiled, shifting his gaze on the floor for a moment. But instead of spitting out a retort - contrary to Nina’s expectations - he just nodded. “You’re right,” he conceded.

A sigh escaped Nina’s lips, and she nervously fiddled with her own fingers. He was walking on eggshells, and she didn’t like it, not even a bit. “Please, stop treating me like that.”

“Like what?” He furrowed, looking at her again.

“Like I might break at any moment.”

Tommy said nothing. He could see why she didn’t want to be treated any differently, but she did look like she would break. Not once had she shown a single shred of vulnerability until that day, and it was disarming. Truth was, he didn’t know how to act.

“I’ll forget it ever happened,” she spoke again, this time with resolution, but she didn’t sound fully convinced of what she was saying. “And you should do the same. No one can know about it.”

“You should tell-”

“No,” she firmly interrupted him, Stefano’s veiled threat still echoing in her ears. “I can’t,” she continued, her voice becoming softer.

Tommy suddenly remembered what she told him a week earlier at the beach, and everything became clear. It was all it took to make his blood boil again. The room went quiet, but the silence was soon broken by a faint rustle of sheets, as Nina left her spot to sit closer to him. Honey and lavender filled his nostrils, and he had to restrain himself from inhaling deeply, eager to feel more. More than the light brushing of their arms, separated by the thin fabric of his undershirt. They were barely touching, and yet his skin burned. As hard as he tried to suffocate that feeling, to extinguish that fire, the flames kept on flaring, higher than before. He couldn’t fight it. She placed a hand on his shoulder, and that feather-like contact was enough to send sparks of electricity through his body. “Promise me,” she whispered, “you won’t tell anyone.”

Tommy turned to look at her, and the proximity allowed him to spot a small scratch on her cheek. Without thinking, he delicately ran his finger on it, and he was almost surprised by the feeling of her soft skin under his rough hand. Slowly, even hesitantly, his hand went to cup the side of her face, and he gently rubbed his thumb along her cheek. “I promise.”

Tommy’s hoarse voice, along with the warmth of his hand, sent shivers down Nina’s spine, and her pulse started to race. She couldn’t explain how the closeness of his strong body was making her feel, nor the effect his masculine scent had on her. Aftershave, cigarettes, and a hint of musk. And she couldn’t help but wonder: if she pressed further into him, if she let herself be held by him again, would it lift the weight off her chest? Would it take away the pain, the revulsion, the shame? Would his touch be enough to replace Stefano’s hands?

When he felt Nina unconsciously get closer, Tommy closed his eyes, drowning in her scent, and he could swear there was fire running through his veins. It was as if some unknown force was pulling him towards her, drawing him nearer, and when her soft lips brushed against his, his mind went blank. Every cell in his body was begging him to give in.

No. It wasn’t right.

Nina was vulnerable, too vulnerable, and probably unable to make any conscious decisions. He couldn’t take advantage of her like that. It took all his strength to move away and bring her in to press a kiss on her forehead instead. He lingered there for a few seconds, savouring the moment. When he let his hand fall from her face, the warmth left him, and it seemed to him that his fingers had sharply gotten cold.

Feeling her confused eyes following him, Tommy got up and walked to the door, ignoring the invisible string that was pulling him in the opposite direction. He couldn’t stay in that room any longer. If he did, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to restrain himself.

“Goodnight, Nina.”

NEXT PART

Tag list: @iamngoclinh08 @lilywinchesterlove @fandom-puff @capitanostella @caelys @lucillethings @peakyxtommy @queenofkings1212 @lyarr24 @kmc1989 @call-sign-shark @jomarch-wannabe

Heart, Body and Soul tag list: list: @zablife @queenofshinigamis @raincoffeeandfandoms @call-sign-shark @kmc1989 @babayaga67 @kmhappybunny240 @diorrfairy @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @gaslysainz @brummiereader

Tommy Shelby tag list: @50svibes

#peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders fics #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x oc

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onlyluxalo · 2 months

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omg welt & rich!baker!reader??

reader is just spoiling him with treat and sweets from the bakery, and also things that he likes!!

what do you think? 🤔🤔

I hc Welt with a sweet tooth so this helps and gives me more ideas lol

Gn and older reader!

Welt Yang with a rich and baker reader

Welt would fall in love immediately that reader bakes and makes sweets for him

Welt doesn’t care that his lover is rich since he doesn’t care for money much but he’ll always return the favor and make stuff for reader since he’ll feel bad if he doesn’t

Literally falls in love with them even more reader feeds him (like cake or chocolate etc.) because he finds it romantic as he has a goofy smile on his face since he’s comfortable around his lover

Reader spoils Welt (money and bake stuff wise but mostly money), getting him more sketchbooks and fancy drawing pencils/colored pencils and some markers

Welt rewards his lover with a big kiss on the lips since he’s so happy and not being used to being pampered so much

Sometimes reader would make homemade pockey (from scratch) and would make Welt do the pockey game with them (has to explain it to him before they do it since he doesn’t know the game) and he agrees since he’s eating a biscuit covered in chocolate and might kiss his lover in the end if they don’t pull away <3

Welt actually kinda likes it if his lover puts a piece of chocolate (or other candy) into their mouth before kissing him and moving the candy into his mouth with their tongue as he eats it after like nothing happened (sexually and non-sexually)

Welt has eaten a whole cake before by them no questions asked

I hope I did my best! :)

#honkai impact 3rd x reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai impact x reader #welt yang x reader #honkai impact 3rd #honkai star rail #joachim nokianvirtanen #honkai impact 3rd welt yang #hi3 welt x reader

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a-muffin-full-of-poetry · 2 years

Text

Animals | Jumin Han

This request was a complete pain in the ass and boy am I going to complain about it, however, to the lovely anon who requested it, thank you! I do in fact take song requests and I’m glad you’ve enjoyed yourself so far. I'm so sorry this has taken literal months, but as I am just about to explain, there's a reason as to why. Now, for the muffin rant. Swearing abound.

First of all, my tumblr decided to fuck itself. I couldn’t edit it when I was on my laptop, which is how and when I write and then what I did write on my phone didn’t save. So I’d write it and there’d be nothing fucking there. To add insult to injury it just meant I didn’t want to write and there’s been five drafts of this is as a result. Secondly, there was no way to fix this problem and I had to screenshot it which really was the butter on the biscuit. I eventually just gave up and wrote it traditionally in several notebooks and frankenstenied them together, which made it take even longer because each draft was on separate pieces of paper in random notebooks. Plus, as you’re about to see, this song is inherently sexual and as I don’t write NSFW, had to adapt it around that so it ended up nothing like the song at all, so I wasn’t happy with the end result anyway. https://genius.com/Maroon-5-animals-lyrics this is what I used for reference. I was not very happy with it, I don’t like writing unhealthy relationships really because I do not want to promote them in anyway but... here we are. *sigh*

Summary: you didn't think it would end this way. you didn't think Jumin was like this, but you keep coming back anyway

Warnings: bad endings for Jumin (I did a cool thing called mixing them), unhealthy relationship, swearing, possessiveness, DO NOT TAKE THIS AS A HEALTHY RELATIONSHIP IT IS NOT AT ALL.

Everything Zen said about men you hadn’t believed, especially when it came to Jumin. Everything in the chatroom was gentlemanly, cute in an oblivious you’ve-clearly-never-liked-someone way. Maybe the alarm bells should’ve started ringing because no one could ever be that put together, but he was and that was enough for him to catch your attention.

Then... then it started to go downhill when he logged into the chatroom and told you his father wanted him to get married. To someone he didn’t know, someone you’d never heard of.

Something switched, something you couldn’t predict. First, it was his cat. His beloved cat was everything to him but it really did become his everything. Clearly everything was too much and you just wanted to help.

You shouldn’t have. Because, if you hadn’t, you would’ve been able to leave him. Leave him to sort through his emotions, leave him to work out what he really wanted.

“Jumin,” you said, once you entered his house for the first time. “I’m so glad I got to meet you. It’s a lot different in person, isn’t it?”

A dangerous twinkle flickered in his eye. At the time, you hadn’t caught it, but you would soon learn what it was. What it meant. “Very, MC.”

It seemed like a dream, staying by his side. Even he seemed content with you in his house, in his space. In fact, it was easy to fall into something as soon as you stepped foot into the house. Perhaps you should have thought it was too easy, but you were enraptured.

The cat went missing and you understood well enough that you had to help him feel better in anyway you could. That was why you never said anything when he got possessive like that. A smile would placate him.

You would look wonderful in a cage, my dear.

WTF?

Jumin... why don’t you come to the kitchen? I’m very good at making tea.

So you avoided it.

The collar they want me to wear is so uncomfortable. Honestly, can’t they see it might damage my neck and then no one would want to watch me on stage.

Zen, no one actually thinks that. Besides it’s part of the act.

Collars are so ugly.

I think a collar would suit you, MC.

Seriously!?

And avoided it.

“MC, dearest, I was thinking that it would help me a lot more if you stayed here from now on. I don’t want you to leave here, not without me. Just in case something happens.”

All you did was nod. “If it helps you.”

You ignored it all, you believed it would help. And then. And then.

The only thing you wanted was some groceries, you had mentioned that you were running low. It had begun when you picked up cooking as a hobby. With little to do without Jumin there, you tried everything to cut into the boredom. Cooking did that for you and Jumin was more than happy to come home to dinner and walk out the door with homemade lunch, if only to indulge you. Truthfully, you had no idea if he ate it, but Jaehee had said it made him rather more tolerant of meetings since you started.

Surely he could allow you out for a moment, couldn’t he? It wouldn’t even be for long, if you brought someone with you, he would let you.

“No,” he sighed. “I’ll just send someone for you.”

You weren’t expecting an outright no. “Jumin, please. I’m going crazy in here. I won’t be gone long.”

“I said no MC, I’ll send someone else. I don’t want you leaving the house.”

“But Jumin—”

“No MC! God, how many times do I have to tell you before you get it?”

That was when you knew you had to leave. Had you encouraged him too much in his possessiveness? Or had you been to flimsy with your stance on staying at home? Should you have been sterner? More defensive?

None of that mattered, you just had to leave. Slowly, you backed away from him. It seemed he realised that he had messed up because he moved towards you with his slow, assured steps. Like he knew you’d go back to him. No, no you wouldn’t. You couldn’t.

“Just—Just go. Go to work.”

He stopped in his tracks, analysing you. For a moment, you saw his brows furrow, some sort of a pout making its way onto his face. Clearly he was trying to make you feel a little bad and it would usually work except you adverted your eyes quick as. Finding yourself staring at the cage you couldn’t help but think about the one you were trapped in.

Eventually, he left. Not before he tried to press a kiss to your cheek but you managed to dodge it, an unimpressed ‘hmph’ leaving you. Once he was gone, you desperately tried to argue your way out of the penthouse with his bodyguards. You weren’t expecting much, but they must’ve heard you or they could see how much you wanted to leave, because with a nod to each other, they let you out.

Pulling out your phone, you called a familiar number.

“Y’ello?”

“Seven, get me out of here, please.”

Graciously, Seven had let your into his home. After hours of hysterical crying to Seven and the maid(?) at his home and several phone calls to Zen and Jaehee, you had come to your conclusion. You would go to the party and then you would leave the RFA.

V, who Seven had called, had only tried half heartedly to make you stay. Somewhere, it seemed he realised that you should’ve left far before you actually did. Yoosung had tried harder, but that was only because you couldn’t explain it to him. It wasn’t that you couldn’t trust him with it, you just...

Seven was a gracious host, he even offered to make sure to fully block Jumin from your phone but you thought you wouldn’t need it. Honestly, you weren’t prepared for the full onslaught of texts from him you inevitably got sent your way.

MC, please, I really didn’t mean to upset you.

I don’t want to do anything to cause you to make any rash decisions.

I’ll see you tomorrow, we can discuss this then.

You didn’t know what was more uncomfortable: the fact that he wanted you to stay and was willing to back down simply to have you return or the fact that you knew it wouldn’t take much for you to go back. It seemed Seven agreed and frowned at the messages. “We’ll make sure he doesn’t get you alone.”

If that was your main concern, everything would have been so much better.

The party began and you made sure to keep a tight hold on Seven’s arm. Jumin had sort of up ended the whole affair and the paparazzi at every turn made your stomach churn. It was just so wonderfully him and that was completely the problem.

Actually seeing his face, his hair slightly styled compared to how it usually look, made you freeze on the spot. Seven seemingly mistook it for fear, and it was to some degree, but you could feel your blood pump faster, your heart rate spike. “MC, we can go back if you want. We only need to be here for a bit.”

“It’s okay Seven, I’ll be alright.”

His speech was nothing amazing. Not at first. It was simply a statement, the truth and exposing the women for what they were—fraudsters. If they hadn’t gotten you into this whole mess, you might have only given them a slight frown, something disapproving. But that wasn’t the case. They’re disruption at his house, their continued pushiness for Jumin to marry Sarah had made him go almost insane in his own house. You scowled.

Then, just as their shrill voices rose to a crescendo, Jumin spoke over them, crystal clear as usual. “MC.”

Everyone was suddenly turned your way. Both Seven and Zen moved slightly in front of you. “Move back, we—”

“Let me go, I’ll... I’ll be fine. Get it out of the way.”

You stepped out from behind them, nodding your head to Jumin as his eyes watched you make your way closer to him. Sharp, grey and full of something—something animalistic. It was like a predator, watching its prey wander closer to the trap it had laid.

As you got closer, Jumin continued. “This wonderful person has organised this entire party for us and has revitalised the RFA into something new. MC is the one who has my heart, not you.”

It was a scathing remark to both Sarah and Glam. But you were practically in front of him now. The small little stage that had been set up had him towering over you and you looked up at him. There was a satisfied smile on his face, like he knew exactly what he was doing. And to some end, he probably did.

He only had to ask and he knew exactly that.

“I am so sorry you have had to put up with those women.” He never stopped looking at you, keeping your gaze directly on him. “It was not right. We just need another try, without them.”

At that, he stepped away from the microphone and stepped down to you, taking your hand. You could hear Seven and Zen shout, hear their anger as they stormed their way to you. But you simply turned around and held up a hand. “You really mean that? No more of this week, ever again?”

“I promise.”

“Then okay. I’ll... We can try a normal date, alright?”

His face lit up. You should’ve known then that this week would always be a pattern. That he would always be like this and you would always come back.

However, as he smiled down at you, it was hard to think about that.

#jumin han #jumin x reader #mysme jumin #mystic messenger #mystic messenger fanfic #zen mystic messenger #mystic messenger 707 #PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DO NOT THINK THIS IS A GOOD RELATIONSHIP #IT IS NOT #THIS IS LITERALLY A CYCLE OF ABUSE #AND THIS SONG IS VERY DODGY #it is a good song though

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meetinginsamarra · 2 years

Text

My fave SherlockBBC AU´s: demon fics

Around mid-month I´ll do a fic rec list with my fave AU genres or tropes. Summaries are taken from OP´s on AO3.

1 distantstarlight @i-still-am-distantstarlight 23-Wedding Wings

https://archiveofourown.org/works/10983927

John is an angel who finds himself trying to catch the eye of a demon who theoretically should be completely repelled by him. Instead, the demon invites John to live with him on the mundane plane.

2 distantstarlight Consumed

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12361059

Sherlock Holmes suffers an unexpected side-effect after he is nearly sexually assaulted during a case. He and John are both living at 221 B Baker Street once more, but things haven't been easy for either of them. The assault changes Sherlock in ways he cannot explain, and he fears that he has become an uncontrollable monster.

3 GodenUsagi @fancybedelia Caution (Into the wind)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/2695322

Companion piece to entanglednow´s

During a restless walk, John stumbles across a recently summoned demon trapped in a containment circle.

4 MapleleafCameo A Certain Kind of Hunger

https://archiveofourown.org/works/4947685

A concerned Sherlock watches as John seems to be rapidly losing weight. What he discovers is that John really isn't normal. And he is very, very hungry. The tail was the real surprise.

5 Trajektoria Sympathy for the Demon

https://archiveofourown.org/works/1938504

John has been very careful about hiding his true identity, but some things are impossible to conceal under the watchful eye of Sherlock Holmes. Who, as it turns out, has a few secrets of his own. What will change between them when the truth is laid bare?

6 Calais_Reno @calaisreno A Demon´s Tale

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24715747

“I wanted a proper scary demon,” he says. “I was thinking of one who could intimidate bullies, make people listen to me, and fetch the biscuits from the top shelf. Instead I get a short, cuddly, clumsy—” “Clumsy?” I'll admit to short and cuddly, but I am very coordinated. Definitely not clumsy. He is annoyed that he ended up with a demon who doesn’t act demonic. He gets shouty and insults me, calls me a rubbish demon. This hurts my feelings. Really, he should be happy he has a demon who makes tea and keeps the bed warm.

7 entanglednow @entanglednow Blood Will Out

https://archiveofourown.org/works/2695220

Companion piece to GoldenUsagi´s

The house smells like a gunfight, blood and burning air.

8 Gem_Gem and harrylee94 Trapped

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12586796

During his most recent case, Sherlock finds himself in the hands of the very people he had been trying to pursue. This mistake lands him in a cell, already occupied by a strange man who calls himself John. But who is John? And why does he look so... hungry?

9 twistedthicket1 The Contract

https://archiveofourown.org/works/5114558

On the eve of the day in which the divide between the spirit world and the Earth becomes thinnest, Captain John Watson is intent on making sure that no Demons will make it past the gate. The village of Baker is heavily fortified, a veritable fortress against the evils that are scheduled to arrive: Nightmarish monsters come to life with only the intent of tormenting innocent life. John hates all the Demons that feed off of his people.

On the other side in the spirit world, Sherlock is an Incubus that faces a serious problem: He does not feel sexual attraction. Rather, he finds the entire process of sex tedious, mortals annoying, his bodily needs at once vaguely distressing and inconvenient. Faced with a need to eat after denying himself for nearly a year, Sherlock does not expect himself to take interest in another Demon's prey, of all things.

10 etothepii I used to live alone before I knew you

https://archiveofourown.org/works/147622

Where Mycroft is an angel, Sherlock is a demon, and John is still John.

#my fanfic recs #10 fave demon AU´s

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honestlyfragile · 3 years

Text

JUMPSTREET - Mark Lee x Johnny Suh

Pairing: Mark Lee x Fem!Reader, Johnny is Mark’s bestfriend, Mentions of Jaehyun and Yuta

Genre: university!au, police!au, a dash of fluff, smut,crack, fraternity!au

warnings: mild violence, mentions of guns, drugs, sexual themes, language

Summary: Mark and Johnny were partners in crime, but when feelings get in the way, will Mark stick to the law or go against it?

Wc: 15.4k

also posted in Ao3

a/n: I hope you enjoy this story heavily inspired by the 21 & 22 Jumpstreet movie franchise, and hopefully I was able to deliver it with my own ideas. Enjoy!

Mark and Johnny start their first official day as policemen after being together in most of their high school years and studying criminology in college. They could not be more excited to see people make trouble until today.

"Let's see who's going to be able to make his first arrest." Johnny bets, scanning around the area with a cup of coffee in his hand, the other on his waist.

"Dude it's a park, what the fuck could possibly happen here?" Mark retorts, unamused.

"Oh you know, it's a crazy world we live in these days." Johnny defends, his gaze fixed on his surroundings.

"Sure it is." Mark continues to read his newspaper as he stands side by side with Johnny.

The two try to at least roam around and patrol over the area, looking for at least an ounce of any violation, it didn't matter if it was serious or not.

Mark spots a kid of about 9 years old near the pond, about to drop a piece of bread into the water.

"Excuse me kid," Mark bluffs, as if it were his first catch of the day. Technically this is his first catch of his career, hopefully.

"What?" the child frowns and looks at him obnoxiously.

"Read the sign," Mark points to it and the kid's eyes follow, but disobeys him anyway.

"It says don't feed the ducks!" Mark argues, but the kid is unbothered.

"Let it go Mark, it's not like bread will kill them. Plus, you can't arrest a child." Johnny scoffs and tries to drag Mark to another area.

Mark lets out a sigh as the kid sticks his tongue out and he does the same before turning his back.

The two had nothing better to do, they were rookies who just got newly assigned to an area that didn't even have any trouble. Almost like they were just there for the sake of. Of course the department treated them as rookies.

Johnny takes out his pistol out of boredom and tosses it for fun. "Woah you know those are loaded right?" Mark warns him while involuntarily taking a step back.

"Yeah and?" Johnny continues to toss and play with it.

"Unload it first!" Mark panics like the goody two shoes that he was.

"Then that would be no fun." Johnny shrugs.

Mark spots a group of middle aged men from afar, but not quite. He squints and tries to take a closer look with his binoculars.

"Yo check it out, aren't those the Outlaws?" He nudges Johnny's shoulder as he takes a look himself.

The Outlaws are a known motorcycle gang in the county, they aren't always bothersome but the both of them are determined to find a loophole.

The two approach the group of men and tell them off because they have parked their motorcycles illegally. But that's not the only thing they notice, these men were stoned. One lights up a joint of Marijuana shamelessly, and Johnny loses his temper. "Excuse me Sir, you do know that the use of Marijuana is illegal right?"

"Oh look," the hideous man spits on the ground. "They must be new. He has the guts to talk to us like that. Nice to see some fresh kids here. You sure you aren't dressing up for... halloween?" The man specifically has his eyes on Mark when he said the last sentence.

Feeling offended, Mark straightens up his stance and acts more like a grown man. "That's a nice joke sir, now hand it over." He says in a stern voice.

"What a scary fella, keep up the good work! Sorry I don't have candy with me." They tease and the two have had enough.

"I'm going to have to search your motorcycle now sir." Johnny insists and doesn't wait for a response, and opens the seat and finds packets of a fine white substance. "These are.." he halts.

"DRUGS!" Mark shouts and immediately gets pushed by one of the gang members.

Johnny immediately gets a sample and keeps it in his pocket and takes his gun out. Mark gets up and does the same. The men try to run away and escape, Johnny runs after them and Mark takes his bike. The two finally get to corner them and Johnny pits one of them on the ground.

"You have the right to," Johnny tries to utter the Miranda Rights as he puts handcuffs on the man that is trying to eagerly resist him. "To shut the fuck up!" Johnny was being too focused on trying to handcuff the suspect and forgets to recite the rest,

Reciting those did not even cross Mark's mind as he just also focused on trying to handcuff the man.

"You are coming with us!" He yells and drags them to the police station, which was only a few meters away from them now.

--------

As the case was investigated, their chief commends them but then discovers that they forgot to recite the Miranda Rights, which can possibly make the charges be dropped, but thankfully the violation to the law was enough for the men to remain in jail.

"Technically you still did this wrong," the chief puts a hand on his chin and taps the polished wooden table. "But since you're just starting out, i'll give you another offer."

The two young men eye each other, anticipating the chief's suggestion. "An offer?" Johnny asks, straightening up in his seat.

"Jump street." The chief says.

"Wha- what's that?" Mark furrows his eyebrows in curiosity.

"Since the both of you look younger than the rest of the people here, our undercover police unit is in need of officers." The chief informs.

"Please, continue." Johnny lets him explain further.

"You pretend to be college students. It's practically the same, but it would be more suitable for the both of you because it's your crowd. You see crime and injustice, you report. But, you will be disguised as college students to ease the procedures of trying to find what those students have been up to. We have your back." The chief explains.

"Cool." Mark simply says because he is astonished by the idea.

"So where do we report? Do we have a new head quarters?" Johnny asks.

"You will be transferred. Down in 21 Jump St." The deputy Chief declares.

____

They head to the headquarters that was disguised as an old chapel. "You sure this is the one?" Mark questions as he gets out of the car.

"It does say 21 Jump St. so, let's have a look." Johnny turns off the engine and both of them enter.

The setting was a typical chapel, but it was dark and full of stock equipment. Mark takes a look at the altar that was dimly lit, and bows before the image of Christ to show respect . Johnny on the other hand was not a person of religion but follows Mark's simple gesture anyways.

"The both of you!" A man shouts from afar, and it echoes, "come over here."

The two are startled but proceed to the hidden room. When they enter they see two women who are already disguised as cheerleaders. Meanwhile the two are still in their police uniforms. The ladies take a look and have a good laugh at them. "You do know that you're supposed to go undercover right?" She says, eyeing them from head to toe.

"W-we didn't get the memo that it was gonna be today.." Mark trails off and fidgets with his hands.

"Go and dress like teenagers! Now!" The chief commands and the two quickly change right away.

When they get back they are briefed by the set of rules they have to follow and about the goals of this undercover project.

"Rule number 1. DO NOT get expelled. No one in the system knows that you are undercover. So be disciplined and don't cause major trouble. Getting expelled would mean that you'll get your asses kicked out of jump street." The chief sternly explains, making the assigned officers hold their breath from fear.

"Rule number 2," the officer walks past the rest and stands in front of Johnny. "DO NOT have any sexual or intimate relationships with the students and professors. You hear that pretty boy?" And specifically locks his eyes on Johnny, making the boy gulp and purse his lips. After the general meeting, the two were called for a detailed one, personally with the chief.

It was said to them that they had to find a synthetic drug that has been spreading around the campus called NCT. A sample of its packaging was shown, it was definitely something you wouldn't think of as a drug. It was about a size of a large coin, and looks like a small biscuit. It was sealed using assorted hand drawn stickers of different objects. They were also advised to never give out their real names, because new identities have been assigned to them. Johnny's being Rolan Kim and Mark's being Kalen Park.

"When the youngsters take this drug, it apparently makes them laser-focused on studying for about an hour. And for the succeeding hours, they party like it's fucking 1999 until they pass out. Infiltrate the dealer, find the supplier." The chief gives his final orders and sends off the both of them for their mission.

-----

"Dang, we're really going back to college?" Mark says as he finished up packing his things for the dorm that the agency assigned to them. They had to be as realistic as possible.

The two head to the university, reminiscing their own college days. The two might perhaps over-do this whole "blending in" thing, which might give out the disguise.

"Woah their campus is HUGE." Mark says, mesmerized and wears both straps of his backpack.

"Bro, that's not very college of you." Johnny fumbles with the strap of Mark's backpack.

"What?"

"You're two strapping dude. You have to just sling one of them on your shoulder, so it's cool and grown up. You're in college, not middle school." Johnny fixes Mark's bag for him.

"Right. College." He utters to himself. He seems to be enjoying it too much, and starts saying hi to everyone he sees.

"Knock it off, Mark. You're giving us away." Johnny nudges his arm and tries to cooly stride along the campus, keeping his composure.

Mark acknowledges him and goes with the flow. The two arrive in their dorm that they gladly share only among themselves. Mark is new to this, because when he went to college he stayed with his parents. Thankfully he could trust Johnny to always have his back.

The two set their things down and pick their beds, it didn't really matter much since the room had two singles and separate desks for the both of them. It also had a small book shelf that could come in handy, if they ever plan to take lectures seriously.

"Let's just fix these later. We have to go to the Dean's office to confirm our enrollment. Act natural okay?" Johnny lazily brushes his hair back and straightens up his shirt in front of the small mirror that the vanity had.

"Oh- uh okay." Mark leaves the pile of his clothes undone on top of his bed and grabs his phone and keys.

It was the afternoon of fall, the campus has been covered with different hues of orange leaves and subtle sunlight. The breeze was cool but not strong as it blew against their hair. The university seemed peaceful, but they had no idea what went on once the sun sets and the lights are off.

After a couple minutes of walking, the two arrive at the Dean's office for their interview.

"Good afternoon gentlemen, please take a seat." The middle aged man smiles at the both of them.

The two are slightly nervous, but eventually get over it. "Nice to meet you, Mr..." Johnny reads the name plate on the desk "Mr. Bennet." and gives the man his signature smile. Mark does the same and they start their interview.

"Okay, so which one is Rolan and which one is Kalen?" Mr. Bennet asks and there was a short period of silence. Two had seemed to forget which identities were theirs.

Johnny raises his hand, "I'm Rolan sir. Rolan Kim." and he nudges Mark's shoulder.

"Ah yes and I'm Kalen... Park" he barely manages to blurt it out.

The dean furrows his eyebrows but lets it go and proceeds. "So the two of you are?" He asks. They were not prepared for that question.

"Brothers."

"Family friends." the two say at the same time. They give each other a funny look, and Mark gladly saves them from the mishap. "Well we do really treat each other as brothers sir, we grew up together pretty much." and clears his throat. A close call.

"That's good to hear. So Rolan is going to be trying out for the football team and Kalen will try out for the Music club. Those two are very different from each other, but don't worry the opportunities in this school are endless. You can always transfer if you feel that you aren't happy with what you chose." The dean explains and the two acknowledge.

Mr. Bennet goes a little further with the interview and gives them their schedules for the semester then eventually dismisses the two, wishing them well.

"Dude how can you forget the identity that was assigned to you!" Johnny quietly scolds Mark for his slip away.

"I'm sorry okay it's a little confusing!" Mark scratches the back of his head and looks at the floor.

"Ayt, I'll see you later. I have Chemistry in 15 minutes. I can still catch up. What about you?" Johnny asks, putting his hand on his pockets and the other on Mark's shoulder.

"Well, I don't really have any classes for the day anymore. I guess i'll head back to the dorm so I can start unpacking already. I'll see you then. Let me know if you find any leads." Mark gives him a small salute and heads back to the dorms.

-----

Johnny arrives in the lecture hall and receives strange looks. He tenses up a little but nonetheless shrugs it off and takes a seat next to a boy who looks like a whole generation younger than him.

"Yo, you look really old. Were you held back?" The boy asks in a nosy manner, unintentionally pushing Johnny's buttons.

Johnny clenches his jaw and keeps his composure. "No I don't... You look young. Super young. Were you held forward?" he tries to redeem himself.

"No? Whatever. I'm Haechan by the way." The boy introduces himself.

"Im Joh- Rolan." Johnny almost slips but the latter doesn't notice.

The professor immediately hands a quiz, which Johnny has no idea of because he arrived at an odd time of the semester. He guessed all the questions with all his might. But to be quite honest he also wasn't the best in chemistry when he still went to school.

He turns his paper in and walks towards the exit but gets stopped by Haechan. "Uh do you need help with the topic? You seem to be clueless about it." Which came off as a little rude, but that wasn't his intention at all.

"No." Johnny insists because it hurts his pride. "I know everything." He stiffens up.

"Yeah? Do you know what a covalent bond is then?" The boy cheekily asks.

Johnny bluffs, because he doesn't. Or to put it in a better light, he forgot. "Fuck man, I don't have to tell you what it is."

"Woah, I wasn't trying to be rude. But anyway if you need help you can just ask me. See ya." Then Haechan was off and got lost in the sea of people.

Apparently, it was Johnny's last class for the day because it was already almost evening. He texts Mark to inform him that he's heading back to the dorm as well. He doesn't let his guard down and continues to observe the students if they're up to anything suspicious.

As he walked to the dorm, he saw a bunch of boys that were about as tall as he was but more athletic gather around the corner of the football field. He acts nonchalant but keeps an eye on what they are up to. He tries to move closer to the scene without getting caught and acts like he's only passing by.

"Yo hook me up with some more of those, I can't fail my classes or else i'll get kicked out of the team." One says to the other.

Johnny immediately pulls his phone out to text Mark about what he just heard and hurries back.

-------

"Dude, as expected the football team has it. I'm trying out tomorrow and I'll surely get with them." Johnny discusses with Mark.

"Yeah? Can I come watch your tryouts? So I can see what they look like." Mark requests.

"Sure. 2pm at the field." Johnny informs him.

The two were mostly busy arranging their stuff in the room until they heard a knock on the door. Mark offers to get it.

"Hey new neighbors!" two men appear with big smiles.

"Oh hey, uh... thanks?" Mark blankly answers as he was usually awkward meeting with new people.

Johnny comes and checks to see who it was, and to his surprise, it was Haechan and his roommate.

"Oh hey Haechan, and hey..." Johnny looks at the unfamiliar guy.

"Renjun." He smiles.

"Right Renjun." Johnny nods. "Oh by the way Kalen, I go to the same biology class as Haechan." Johnny calls Mark by his fake name.

"Oh cool, what about you Renjun, what's your major?" Mark asks.

"Classical music!" Renjun enthusiastically says.

"Oh I'm in Music Prod! I'll probably see you around during org meetings." Mark smiles.

Their neighbors introduce tips for them that could be useful during their stay and seem to be genuinely nice people. But Mark and Johnny cannot trust anyone, so they keep their guards up and try their best to not give anything away.

Although it may have seemed like an easy task for them, it wasn't. The drug was all over the school, it was going to be difficult to find the root of it if they ignored even the smallest details that could lead them to find out the supplier.

---

The following day, the two wake up early ready to officially start the day. Mark and Johnny head to their own classes, hoping that they find out something about the case today.

Mark enters the lecture hall for his Philosophy class. It was almost 80 percent full as it was a basic class for almost everyone. He awkwardly looks around, hoping to find a seat that wasn't as far because of his bad eyesight.

"Psst." You try to catch his attention. When he looks over, you tap the vacant seat next to you, "you can sit here." You offer.

"T-thanks." He says and gives you a smile.

"You seem like a new face. I'm Y/N" You say to him because you have observed the people in this class every day.

"I'm Kalen. Kalen Park." he scratches the back of his head. "I uh, just got enrolled yesterday. You know, when your family moves into another town... yeah" he trails off with his made-up excuse.

"Yeah, it's fine. Don't worry about it." You genuinely assure him, "It's college. You can take your time." You chuckle because he was so awkward, but seemed very kind.

"Definitely." He bites his lip, unsure if he should keep talking or not. But the professor arrives just on time.

He observes his surroundings and keeps an eye on suspicious students that might have a link to what they were looking for. He whispers to the guy in front of him who was just playing games on his laptop and wasn't listening in class. "Hey, do you know where I can get myself some NCT?"

The guy raises his brows in doubt, "are you a narc?" and might have said it way too loudly.

Mark tries to brush it off with a stiff laugh "What are you talking about man? I'm not I swear." and refuses to make eye contact.

The airhead lets it go and slips mark a cellphone number that could possibly be a step closer to what they were looking for. "Just text them "looking for a hookup" and they'll know what you're talking about."

"Thanks, man." He gives him a small pat on the back just to show that he wasn't up to anything, which actually just makes him more suspicious. Thankfully, the guy didn't really care.

Mark was delighted to have found a lead easily, and immediately texts Johnny about it. After that, he actually paid attention to the class, just because it genuinely fascinated him.

When it ended he immediately gathered his stuff and put on his backpack, ready to meet Johnny.

"Psst, two strapper!" You call out and try to barely tap his shoulder.

He looks back and immediately drops one strap of his backpack off his shoulders, he definitely forgot about what Johnny has advised him. He scratches the back of his head with his hands on his pocket, "yeah?"

"You free this evening?" You casually ask.

He nervously gulps because he really has to be somewhere right now, but he didn't want to be rude. "Uhm, I guess? I don't know yet. Why?"

"We're having a poetry slam at the art hall, you might be interested. I saw some good stuff you wrote in your notebook" you smile, hoping that it doesn't freak him out that you saw one of his works.

His eyes widened, "oh, okay cool I guess I can try. But I have somewhere to be right now, I'll see you..around." And he awkwardly walks off.

You furrow your brows because of his strange mannerisms, but he seemed like no trouble at all. In fact, it was kind of cute, how awkward he was.

------

It was time for Johnny's football tryouts. Given that he was already good at it during the time that he was actually in college.

Johnny was naturally a sociable person, he blended well with crowds and easily made friends. That's why this was the perfect place for him to be in. He sits himself at the bench while he wears the spare uniforms from the team and is greeted by a dude that was a little shorter than he was, "Goodluck" the boy with ash purple hair says.

"Thanks!" he enthusiastically replies.

"Captain! We need you for a sec." the coach calls, then the boy who has wished him luck gets up and reports to the coach. Well, he did give off an impression of one. He was highly presentable, his smile was hospitable, his form was great and his attitude was pleasant. Everything else—was just the ideal makings of a captain.

The tryouts start and Johnny looks around for Mark, who had just arrived and casually sat himself on the bleachers, waving at Johnny from afar. As the tryouts went on and finished, the coach praised everyone who attended for a job well done and announced the new members who had qualified. All of which included Johnny of course.

"Hey man, great job out there." The captain is back on Johnny's side to praise him.

"Yeah, thanks. I'm Rolan by the way." He introduces himself.

"Of course I know, I was the one who picked you from the list." He laughs, "Jaehyun. Jeong Jaehyun."

-----

"Hey!" Mark hears a familiar voice faintly calling his name. He searches for it but takes him awhile because of how wide the campus is. "Over here two stapper," you chuckle and he finally sees.

"Oh hey," he muttered quite embarrassed at how awkward he was.

He takes a seat next to you at the bench near the hall of the poetry slam event, he wanted to go together. "Chilly night huh? I should've brought my sweater.." You trail off, rubbing your arms for warmth.

You didn't mean for it to come off that way, but Mark willingly takes off his jacket and offers it to you. "Oh it's alright really-" you insist.

"No it's fine, I'm from Canada, this is nothing." He laughs.

You nod your head with his remark, and proceed to wear his jacket. It was quite big on you, but it was definitely cozy. "Shall we go?" You ask, standing up.

He nods and lets you lead him to the hall. The campus was only lit by lamp posts at this hour, but there were many sculptures in the school of arts that he had wished to see better. Well, there was always next time.

The both of you enter the hall which was quite filled with students already. It had been set up like a cafe, with a small platform in front that was lit with a spotlight.

"Give it up for Naya Kim everybody!" the emcee announces, encouraging everyone to give the person a round of applause after presenting a spoken word. "Do we have another volunteer?'

The crowd falls silent as everyone looks around, mindlessly making eye contact with each other, waiting on who was going next.

"Anyone?" The emcee taps the mic.

"I have one!" You yell, and Mark looks at you with wide eyes.

"Dude no-" he resists, trying to shrink himself into his chair.

"C'mon it'll be fun!" You nudge his shoulder, "We have Kalen over here!" You grab his wrist and raise his arm for him, even if he was resisting it, he had no choice.

The emcee squints and eyes the both of you and acknowledges you volunteering your new friend. "Alright we have Kalen next! Stage is yours." The emcee steps off.

He had all eyes on him now, eyes hungry of anticipation and to witness raw talent amongst themselves.

"G-good evening everyone." he greets, holding onto the mic tightly and takes a deep breath. His expression changes into a serious one.

Will it ever come?

The nights know me well.

I was a frequent by-passer but now I am no stranger.

A boy who grew up with sharks does not need to be taught how to swim.

Good night,

These words feel like the vast sky

Darkness, but not hollow.

Black but not bitter.

After he recites his poem he becomes flustered again from the faint applause he had received from the audience that was present, he puts the mic back to its stand and does a small bow.

"Not bad, tiger" You pat him on the back. There was more to him than what meets the eye, you just knew.

"You think so?" He says with hopeful eyes.

"Yeah!" You assure him.

The rest of the evening passes by with the both of you having a splendid time watching others unleash their passion and talent for reciting spoken word and poetry. Some were tear jerking and some were downright hilarious. So this is college. Mark thinks to himself.

In the past he had always been a loner who didn't go to many parties because of his strict and conservative parents.

He was way beyond his borders now. But he couldn't get carried away. No, this isn't a time for him to redeem himself from his early years, this was time for him to perform his duties. So he snaps out of his little daydream.

As the both of you were seated at the bench in front of the hall where he found you, he had asked you about your major.

"Fine arts." you laugh bitterly.

"What's wrong? You don't seem like you're happy with it…" He trails off, swinging his feet that was hanging off the bench.

You shake your head no, "I am. It's just that my parents don't really know I took this course. I told them I got a scholarship and they were just relieved that they didn't have to pay anymore. Otherwise they'd force me into some business course or something "more practical"" you emphasize with air quotes.

"I see. Okay so fine arts huh?" He tries to lighten the mood. "What can you say about that one over there?" Mark points to the sculpture to your left, about 20 metres away.

"They're like two beings, leaning on each other" you pause, dramatically for impact, "They support each other so one doesn't fall." you interpret.

He seems impressed, then asks "Support huh? How about you? Do you have anyone—who supports you?"

"Hm, not really, no. I like to be alone and just spend time with myself." Your eyes wander but all you could think about is how he's looking at you with such attentiveness and interest.

He chuckles, "I feel you. You know I'm an expert at being alone. Don't you just love it when you're in a room full of people but no one gives a shit about your presence?" He claps his hands together just once then purses his lips into a bitter lopsided smile. "Yep. Had a lot of those." He masks his personal statement with humor.

"Well," You say, kicking the shortly-trimmed grass on the building's lawn. "If you don't wanna be alone, you walk me to my dorm" you offer.

He looks around and takes no time to think about it, feeling that it was unsafe for you to go alone. "Sure." He smiles.

The walk to your dorm was silent but comfortable. You weren't sure if he was quite a talker or just shy. But one thing you couldn't get out of your head was how unconventionally attractive he was. You've never gotten a vibe like his before and you've been in this university for 2 years already. You wanted to get something out of him even if it takes you to be the bold one here.

"We're here," You whisper, looking at him seductively. Like you were a puppy begging to not be left alone. "Do you wanna come in? My roommate left for the weekend" you smirk.

Mark gulps. He had been resisting this kind of tension he had with you ever since he met you. But you made it so hard. "Come on," you say, putting your hand at the back of his neck while tracing mindless patterns on it with your finger.

"My brother he might be-"

"Oh you have a brother? Is he hot?" You joke.

His eyes are wide with stitched eyebrows. But eventually catches on. "Nah." and he pulls you closer to him by the waist. His eyes now staring at you deeply, so hungrily like he was that tiger you called him as earlier. Come and get it.

Without any words said, he had finally crashed his lips onto yours. And you kissed him hard. Like you wanted to have him to all yourself at that very moment. Your tongue grazes his lower lip, begging for entrance which he had granted. Your tongues meshed together at a quick pace, with the heat of your core starting to throb.

You push yourself closer to him and you start to feel his prominence and unconsciously grind on his jeans, making him grunt. You break the kiss for a quick moment, his eyes are glazed and his mouth agape, out of breath. You turn around and enter the code to your dorm and pull him inside.

For a brief moment that your bodies were detached, Mark couldn't stop wanting more. Not even thinking the slightest of the consequences of this act that will dawn upon him if it ever gets out.

You were back to slamming your body with his as you took off his jacket, making it fall to the floor. His hands snake underneath your shirt and started roaming around your body while he peppered kisses on your neck. With a swift flick of his fingers he had unclasped your bra and his hands groped your breasts, you threw your head back as he buried his face in your clothed cleavage. Like he was begging for this bothersome piece of clothing to be gone.

You grant his invisible wish and quickly lift your shirt off, while your bra falls off your arms naturally, his mouth watering at the sight. You trace his abs underneath his shirt, your core getting wetter with how toned they were based on your touch.

And you didn’t doubt the results one bit. When you lift his shirt, his torso was delicately lean, toned in all the right places that your mouth could water at the sight of it. You bite your lip and roll your eyes at the sensation of him sucking your tits, his grip on you intense but gentle.

“I don’t have condoms right now, so this is going to be all about you.” He whispers seductively, feeling your wetness through your soaked panties. You softly moan at the sensation and hungrily kiss him again, not having any moment to waste.

When he slides two fingers to massage your folds, you whimper. "Fuck," you breathe.

"God, that's hot." He says with a hitched breath. You couldn't possibly get any more turned on right now.

When he slips his digits in your cunt—you go fucking insane. You haven't felt this good in quite a while, it made you ecstatic to remember how fucking good this feeling was, you hoped that this wouldn't be the last. Mark was different.

He picks up his pace, and you try to keep your composure, but the forced arch of your back says otherwise. You grab a pillow to cover your face, scared that you would be too loud and get caught, or else this would be the last time for the both of you.

“My fucking God.” You whimper, pulling Mark’s head on your chest, holding onto him for dear life because you just entirely lost control of it all. He finishes you off like his life depended on it, licking your wetness from his fingers, savouring it, then wipes his fingers on his jeans.

“You were so good to me, yeah?” He chuckles when you are left speechless.

“What about you?” You ask, looking at his crotch that was painfully hard.

“It’s- It’s alright. You don’t have to” He says, and it makes your heart thaw like ice. You didn’t deserve him.

“But I want to.” You plead, you couldn’t possibly resist him. “Come here,” You say, rubbing your palm against his jeans.

You didn’t waste anymore time and unzipped his pants, lowering it with his boxers just enough t make his cock lightly hit his stomach. His size is definitely more than what you expected. You take his wet, glistening cock in your hands and pump it gently, smirking in satisfaction when you hear him hiss and moan softly.

“Can you keep it down for me, tiger? We might not be able to do this again,” You coo, and he obediently nods, grazing your lower lip with his tongue, asking for entrance which you gladly grant but not for long.

You smile as you lowered your head down to his throbbing member, licking the precum that had escaped the tip. Mark bites his lip, trying to keep as quiet as possible. You slowly put his dick in your mouth, testing a few times how far you could go. He bucks his hips by accident, making you gag very slightly. “I’m so sorry,” He strokes your hair away from your face. You keep going until you reach the brim, a throaty moan escapes his lips when he couldn’t take it anymore.

You bob your head up and down in a consistent pace while he holds your hair, “You’re such a good girl” He says, throwing his head back. You keep going until you feel tears slowly coming out of your eyes and tried to hollow your cheeks as much as possible, he was so close.

“You don’t have to swallow,” he says, pulling back from you. Nonsense. You were more than willing to.

“I want to.” You say, putting his cock back in your mouth.

With a few last pumps, his member twitches in your mouth and you feel his warm release and take it all in. You wipe the sides of your mouth as you finish, giving him a sweet smile.

After the both of you pass out on your bed, Mark has lost track of time and receives a text from Johnny.

"Dude where the fuck are you? Do you know what time it is?"

Mark jolts up and checks the time, 2:45am. Shit, he was screwed. He quickly gathers his clothes that had been thrown around your room and dresses himself in panic.

"I'm sorry, uh Joh- Rolan, my brother has been waiting for me at our dorm, I lost track of time and i think he'll beat my dick off," He nervously chuckles, almost forgetting to use his fake identity again. He has got to get used to it.

"Not if i did it first" You both burst out laughing. "Alright, I'll see you in class." You say, snuggling yourself in your blanket and shutting your eyes.

He leaves your dorm quietly and runs a hand through his hair before giving Johnny a call.

"Dude listen-"

"Are you fucking around Mark?" Johnny answers, clearly enraged.

Mark was scared as shit but never misses the chance to fuck around Johnny. "I might've."

"Get your ass back here, Lee"

"Ayt."

He slips his phone back to his pocket and starts walking briskly to their dorm. Damn this campus was mad creepy that it actually brought chills to his body. He wondered why he felt so cold then realized he left his jacket at your place. It was too late for him to get it back so he settled by running to warm his body up.

Finally, he was back at the dorm. He hesitates to turn the doorknob because he knows he will be dead meat or nagged to death by Johnny. Or not.

"Where you been huh?" Johnny examines him, standing up from his bed. He sniffs Mark and the latter flinches. "You smell like sex!" He slaps his shoulder.

"You crazy? Some expert or something" Mark brushes him off. Wincing at the sting Johnny's palm gave to the skin of his shoulder.

"I should know, Mark." His mood was lighter now. "But who did you fu- i mean have sex with? we just got here wildcat"

"A girl I met in class like uh… awhile ago" The younger bites his lip trying to keep a smile from escaping his lips. He shouldn't be feeling this giddy over a rule that he broke for you.

Johnny could not believe what he was hearing right now, "Dang. Cheeky boy." He laughs, actually feeling happy for Mark. He can have a little fun, Johnny had his back when it came to these things.

The elder changes the topic and lets this slide. Johnny talks about the leads he gathered from hanging out with the football team. Which were still very much confusing since this substance is all over the campus. Meanwhile, Mark didn't have much besides that number he gave Johnny. Considering he was with the "decent" crowd of people today.

---

The two head to their quarters to report to their chief the next day, trying to ask for help on how they could improve this investigation.

The chief dumps a folder on the table and says, "This is what the deputy gave us recently. Take a look." He opens the folder into a specific case file to discuss with the two.

"Who's this?" Mark points at the picture of a girl, who seemed like they were around the same age as the people at University.

"Lee Minjung." the chief rubs his hands together. "Took some NCT and got locked out of her dorm, so she ended up falling off the roof and dying." The two are shocked by this revelation, it was more serious than they thought.

The chief flips a page, "Here's a picture of her buying the drug." The photograph had two people in it, one that had a visible face which was Minjung, and one guy who's back was facing the camera. He wore a hat so they couldn't really tell who it was. But one thing they could point out is the reflection on the window of the car beside them.

"Dude, look at this," Mark points out his observation to Johnny. "He has a tattoo, we could start with this."

"Bingo. There's your lead." The chief closes the folder and puts it back in his file. "The next time you get back here your asses better be presenting me some actual progress. Understand?"

"Yes sir."

----

Johnny and Mark head to the resident tattoo artist that was near the university, apparently they do most of the tattoos of the students there.

"Excuse me," They knocked on the table of the artist who was currently at the back of the shop.

The tattoo artist arrives out front and asks how they could help the two.

"We're looking for this tattoo, is it familiar to you?" Johnny asks while showing the artists the photograph.

The artist tries to think hard, but gives a hasty answer. "I'm not sure, there's too many of them who got that."

Mark pushes the subject, "Them? Do you think it's some kind of group tattoo?"

"I guess so. They were boys, all of them. Very masculine, had the body of an athlete if I were to put it at that." The artist states.

Mark and Johnny look at each other as if there were light bulbs above their heads. "Thank you!" Mark says and they run off the shop.

The possibility of this being in the football team was huge. They were athletes, and under a lot of pressure. They had reasons to use this drug but it wasn't an excuse for them not to eliminate this. They had to get to the bottom of this before it ends up like Minjung's case again.

---

Johnny was at football practice while Mark stood by the bleachers, watching the team and trying to look out as usual until Johnny calls him over to come down for a bit.

"Jaehyun, this is Kalen, my brother." He introduces him. With his assigned name.

Jaehyun chortles in disbelief when he sees Mark. "You have a brother?" He asks and Johnny nods.

"Sup," Mark tries to give him a bro hug, but Jaehyun shakes his hand instead.

Jaehyun pays no mind to Mark's presence and diverts his attention back to Johnny and proceeds to talk about their game plan.

When practice ends he tells Johnny that the football team plans to host a party tonight. It would be the perfect opportunity for them to keep an eye on everyone.

"Can I come?" Mark asks.

Jaehyun eyes him from the side, "Yeah uh sure" and only bids goodbye to Johnny. "See ya bro."

Mark could already feel that he didn't belong in this crowd, but he and Johnny had to stick together and investigate.

The night of the party came and the two brothers were stoked. "Our first frat party." Mark thought.

"Your first frat party." Johnny spat playfully, trying to meticulously style and wax his hair.

Mark scoffs, still trying to figure out what shirt to wear but at the end, he settles with a navy blue Ralph Lauren shirt. He was too lazy to fix his hair and wears a cap instead.

Johnny tosses Mark something that he thinks the younger might need later on.

"Are you for real? A condom?" A baffled Mark says in disbelief, but sliding it in his pocket anyway.

"You'll never know wildcat. You'll never know." He gives him a mischievous wink.

This wasn't just any party to them, this was an operation. Though they chose to leave for the party unarmed, they were thankfully trained well for hand to hand combat, just in case things went extremely wrong. But that was besides the point, they couldn't destroy their chances of blending in.

When the tandem arrives at the party, the elder was the only one to be greeted enthusiastically, Mark shakes it off simply because being friends with these jocks were the last thing on his list. It was Johnny's call if it didn't work for him, they had their roles.

"Go around for a bit, I'll take care of him." Johnny whispers to Mark with a drink already in his hand.

Mark shrugs his shoulders and explores the frat house, lit with red and blue, music blaring through speakers and the muffled conversations from the people that filled it.

Nothing seemed too off the bat here, it was everything you would expect a frat party to be. There hasn't been a trace of NCT anywhere, or maybe it was because they were being taken too discreetly.

"Want some?" a random guy nudges him, discreetly handing a packet of the substance. He takes it and plays it cool.

"Yo, sick. Thanks man." He pats him on the back.

“Yo it’s not free.” The guy laughs then it disappears. “20 bucks.”

Mark's smile fades, embarrassed. Thank god he brought his wallet. “Here. Thanks.”

"Don't sweat it." and he gives him a small salute.

Mark quickly slides it in his pocket, to keep as evidence later.

"Bad boy." You snake your hands around his shoulders. "Want some?" You offer your red punch with vodka.

His eyes widen, but eases under your touch. Finally, someone who's familiar. Overly familiar. "Hey, y/n" he shakes his head no. "I don't feel like drinking tonight" he makes up an excuse.

"So are you…"

"Am i?"

"Are you going to take that?" You say, pointing at the pocket where he hid it.

Uncertain, he shakes his head no. "But should I? Have you ever had one of these?"

"Oh god no." You say in disgust. "I have seen people's reactions to it though. It's borderline batshit crazy, those things." You explain. Hoping that he wouldn't ever try taking those. You knew about the whole Minjung incident. "One of the girls who lived next door died because of it."

Your remark sparks an interest in him. "Minjung?" He questions. This could be a big help to their operation. But it wasn't a good time to interrogate you.

You raise your brows, "How'd you know her name?"

He fakes a cough and tries to quickly think of a reason. "Mr- Mr. Benett told us. He said that recently a student passed away but never said it was because of the drug…"

You crease up, "That old man is fucking clueless." You cross your arms. "But I'm just looking out for you okay? There's safer ways to have fun."

"Right " He pursues a smile.

Too much fun wasn't part of the plan tonight but you made it difficult for him to do his job. Effortlessly.

You fake a pout. "C'mon tiger, live a little! It's not going to be that bad." You try to convince him, wrapping your arms around his neck, trying to keep your drink from spilling, his arms naturally overlapping and resting just right above your ass.

To hell with this. He's been dreaming of this his entire life. After being in such a conservative family and all, he deserved to try new things out. He was old enough. He thinks to himself, while catching a glimpse of Johnny chugging down a keg. "You're right." he smirks, and you offer your drink for him to taste.

Mark's face scrunches a little from the alcohol, but it felt nice. Good enough for him to grab you by the arm and head to get one himself.

He scans the counter full of different drinks with a variety of colored juices. He chooses the blue lemonade with vodka which you gladly made, handing him the red plastic cup after. "Cheers" you say, delighted with the smile he gave you.

It wasn't long enough until the both of you were back to dancing again, not giving a care like everyone else. He could kiss you right now. And he did, he couldn't miss the opportunity to make your tongues turn purple.

----

Johnny has done everything with all his might to get along with these jocks, kids these days do party harder huh? He doesn't remember having this kind of intolerance to alcohol before, he had to get it out of his system before he forgets what he's really here for.

"Nah this dude's a goner!" Yuta enthusiastically points at Johnny, who now had both of his hands on his knees.

"Hold on, I gotta have some air outside" he raises his arms in defeat, words slurring out of his mouth and vision so blurred he could barely tell where he's going. Finally after much stumbling and ending up in filthy corners, he managed to find a bathroom. Not a usable one though.

"Oh god- sorry" He says as he sees two people fucking each other's guts out on on the sink. "Nevermind" he immediately shuts the door and leaves them alone. It didn't take long for him to just head outside and vomit on the lawn of the frat house. Oh yes, great fertilizer.

Johnny regains a very small amount of composure and he felt someone tap and rub his back. "You okay?" Jaehyun chuckles, with a drunk Yuta tagging along.

Johnny takes a deep breath and tries to stand straight with all his might, trying to act like everything was under control. "Shits wild here" He chaffs, but his brows furrow when he sees a familiar pattern on Yuta's skin. "What's that you got there?" Johnny tries to reach for the latter's arm carefully.

Yuta excitedly raises his sleeve, revealing a tattoo. "Oh this? It's a tattoo man. Gotta get inked at some point!" Yuta says, proudly. "Do you want one? I know a place!"

Jaehyun sighs. He was hyperactive again. "Yuta-"

"What? C'mon look I got this as soon as I got out of my parent's house. Those folks made me feel like I was in jail!" The drunk boy overshares. Johnny pays attention because there was a possibility that these thoughts were sober.

Johnny was quickly disappointed, but not surprised. "Yeah? That's cool. I'll pass. Kinda scared of needles..." He trails off.

"Pfft. Pussy." Yuta spat, Johnny was ready to give him a piece of his knuckles.

Jaehyun blocks Johnny with his arm, "Cut him some slack man, I've known this guy since high school. Let him have his fun. He won't even remember this."

The three head back inside to enjoy the rest of the party when the duo completely forget what they were initially here for. Johnny had spent the rest of the night enjoying himself, so did Mark.

You and Mark decided to play along with the drinking games these people planned, with the faces that you will surely forget by tomorrow.

You've already had a couple to drink, so it became harder for you to aim in beer pong. Luckily, Mark was right behind you, with a steady grip on your hips and one arm helping you aim for the ball.

You close one eye trying to focus as he helped you aim for the cup. "She shoots, she scores!" he shouts playfully and there goes another drink for you.

"You still alright? We can stop if you want," He whispers, lips tingling on your collarbone, sending chills to your spine.

You turn to face him, a gentle hand on his lean chest. "I want you.". You whisper, dragging a painfully slow finger to his lips. You were so knit together that you could feel the growing tent in his pants on your throbbing core. He was irresistible.

He gulps. Here comes nothing. Johnny sure knows his shit huh?

Mark quickly leads you upstairs, looking for a vacant room to settle in. He turned the knobs one by one but they were all locked, your last resort was a surprisingly available restroom.

"Will this do for you?" Mark hesitates, because he didn't want you to feel uncomfortable.

Your tipsy self playfully pinches his cheek, "You do it for me, tiger." And it was enough to drive him to the edge.

As soon as the both of you enter the bathroom, your lips connect once again, sloppily kissing each other like you were out of your minds. Like you wanted to swallow and consume this man whole.

"I want you to see for yourself how crazy you make me." You say through the slapdash kisses.

He puts a hand under your dress, feeling your drenched cunt. "You're so fucking wet. Is this all for me?" He says out of breath, mouth almost watering with the thought of your pussy in his mouth.

"All yours baby." You bite his lower lip and stick out your tongue for him to suck.

He raises your dress just below your ribcage and slides down your black lace lingerie as it fell to your ankles, "Just so you know, I'm keeping this." Mark smirks as he quickly puts it in his pocket.

"It's meant to be yours," You purr, setting your back flat on the cold tiled wall, throwing your head back at the sensation of Mark leaving wet kisses on your thighs.

He kneels and places your legs over his shoulders, lifting your feet off the ground. He was sturdy as a rock as his two arms held your thighs for support while you removed his cap for you to wear over your head and your fingers to be locked in his hair.

"Fuck." You hiss as his tongue lapped on your folds, slurping on your wetness like he worshiped you. He sucked repeatedly on your clit making your legs tremble, so good that you might fall over but his reflexes were out of his world and he knew where exactly to support you.

Your eyes painfully roll to the back of your head from the sensation he was giving you, "God, Kalen don't fucking stop-" you moan and you swear this man had some spell casted on his mouth by how magical it worked.

You grind your hips involuntarily as his mouth followed it, like this could not get any better than it already was. But you could only take so much. "Kalen I'm gonna cum, fuck"

"It's not over until it's over baby," he sets you down and removes his mouth from your pussy, you could barely stand with your legs feeling like absolute gelatin.

Mark gets a condom out of his pocket and quickly unbuckles his belt, making his jeans fall to the ground and expose his throbbing cock, boxers wet with precum.

"You think you can last longer for me baby girl?"

You could only nod your head eagerly because you were growing extremely impatient.

He wraps your legs around his waist in a swift move. "Good girl" He whispers, and you were more than ready to take him. Again and again.

He inserts himself inside you, stretching your walls and you whimper, wrapping your arms around his head to keep his face close to the valley of your breasts.

"That's right, open up for me, pretty girl." He pleads as he continues to thrust in a steady pace. Breath hitched as he brought his face up to you, slurping your tongue once more like it was a popsicle that he couldn't get enough of. "Taking me so well like always huh?" he chuckles and picks up his pace, throaty moans escaping his mouth.

Thank fuck the music in this house was loud enough to blow off people's eardrums, making your moans almost inaudible outside, but loud enough for Marks pleasure. For his ears only.

“Fuck I’m almost-” Mark huffs, “there.” he breathes. When his pace becomes sloppy and finally comes, you hold onto him, your legs numb that you could barely stand on your own. Conscious with the fact that Mark will get to see how fucked out you look, but he absolutely loved it.

-----

"What'd I tell ya? That condom didn't go to waste." Johnny snickers while laying in bed, tossing his football.

Head in the clouds with the thought of you, Mark could only smile to himself but quickly changes the subject before they both lose all purpose.

"Find anything out yet?" Mark asks mindlessly, because all he could think about was you.

"Nope." Johnny says, popping the p. He lied.

And something clicks with Mark. That packet of NCT he managed to keep in his pocket. He rushes over to his hamper and flips the pockets of his pants.

"Someone handed it to me yesterday, I kept it for evidence to bring at the headquarters." He hands the packet to Johnny.

The elder observes it, trying to push the thought of Yuta possibly being a dealer to the very back of his head right now. Give it time. Mark was just starting to enjoy being with you, Johnny has been enjoying being one of the new aces in the football team, it wouldn't hurt to hold it out for a little while.

"Also," Mark adds, "Y/n knows about Minjung. Said she lived across the hall."

"And?" Johnny anticipates.

"That's all I know for now. It's still a big step though." Mark concludes.

----

Johnny spends his free time hanging with Jaehyun and the rest of the boys. If not in practice, they hit the gym to always be in tip-top shape.

Yuta swings a heavy arm over Johnny's shoulders, "Well isn't it our quitter!"

Johnny shoots Jaehyun a look, "You told me he wouldn't remember."

Jaehyun could only chuckle, "Well he did."

Yuta was loud as a goose, he seemed to have so much more energy than the other members of the team that Johnny became suspicious of where it came from.

He recalls the time when the chief described the effects of the NCT substance, and one of them was being focused and hyperactive.

Yuta, besides being silly, was on top of his own game. After joking around he was a hundred percent focused on the gym, his reps were consistent, his routines were clean. Jaehyun tells Johnny that Yuta was also one of the greatest instruments of the football team. Though not gifted with the brightest mind, he worked hard to stay in this university to prove his parents wrong—and to avoid business school.

He was a potential heir to a known electronics company in Japan, but he insisted that he pursue being part of the varsity team to keep his scholarship in sports science. Which until now was an endless debate between him and his parents.

Jaehyun had invited Johnny to stay over at the frat house to hang out, and he did.

It was different to see it in daylight, with no people partying, no vomit and crushed chips on the floor, it looked well taken care of.

"You guys clean this up yourselves after every party?" Johnny asks, impressed.

"Yep," Jaehyun proudly says.

"You gotta look out for the shit they leave behind here. It's amusing." Yuta retorts.

Johnny raises a brow, "Oh yeah? Like what?"

Without wit, Yuta replies, "Drugs"

Johnny, absolutely being taken back by his bold remark was immediately clutched by Jaehyun, "He doesn't mean it."

His suspicion grew so much that he couldn't help but finally bring up the subject. "Like what? Like NCT?" he enunciates.

Jaehyun, quite astounded by Johnny's knowledge with the substance replies, "Hm maybe. You know about that?"

And he was in the trance. "Heard of it yeah, can you hook me up with some?

"Oh sure it’s right-" Yuta reaches for his pocket, "here." and sticks his middle finger out playfully. Johnny swats it away.

"Woah there-" Jaehyun almost bust a gut while laughing. "You're definitely new to this. We don't have any." He tells Johnny. "Don't be such a narc."

Way too defensively, Johnny retorts, "I'm not!"

"That's what they all say." Yuta shrugs with a chuckle.

He spends the rest of the afternoon with them and surprisingly hasn't dealt with unusual rituals and behavior. They acted their age, playing games on a PS5, drinking soda until their bladders exploded, filling themselves with junk food and spray cheese. He could be wrong about them after all.

----

Days passed and not a single thing has led them closer to their target person, it was harder than they thought even when everything felt like it was right in front of them.

"Student-Parent day is coming soon, are you going?" You ask Mark as you take a sip of your coffee.

You took him to your favorite coffee shop for the first time, it's a nice and quiet place for you to study and relax.

"They have those?" Mark hesitates because then he'd have to tell his parents that he's undercover and they'd forget and blow it for him. "I guess so."

"Good. Because I'd like you to meet my parents." You smile. Though you didn't know where you stood with Mark, the past few weeks with him had been a breath of fresh air. He was kind, funny and supportive. He was simple yet his ways of showing his thoughts were sophisticated, never had you once thought that you would get along so well with a person in such a short time. You weren't the one to ask for labels though. You simply liked to enjoy whatever you had at the moment. In your experience, putting labels on things just always gave a reason for it to vanish.

"What why?" He says, a little too surprised.

"Look Kalen, don't break a sweat with this. I'm just going to introduce you. They won't mind." You assure him.

He simply leaves the topic behind and ponders on how he could make this work. He was scared because you had no idea that this was all temporary, and he's terrified by the fact that he wishes it wasn't. He was finding all the possible reasons and excuses to retract himself from this relationship he has with you, but all you ever gave him was a reason to stay. It broke his heart knowing that one day, he'll have to disappoint you with the truth.

"Something wrong?"

He snaps out of it. "Nothing." and forces a smile.

-----

"We aren't making any progress man," Mark runs a hand through his hair and sighs. His back falls heavily on his bed.

Johnny anxiously bites his lap, eyes fixated on the floor. "Yuta has a tattoo…"

"What?" the younger jolts up.

Johnny backs up defensively, "But it wasn't the one we saw! You know how the tattoo artist said he's done a couple of those."

"Are you shitting me right now? We've been trying to find it for weeks! Why didn't you tell me?" His voice raises, and a vein on his forehead couldn't help but emerge.

"I don't think it's him man, I told you it’s not the same tattoo" Johnny defends.

Mark lets out a pungent laugh, poking his tongue on the inside of his cheek, his jaw stiffens. "Right. I knew it. " He says in disbelief. "Everything's right in front of you already! Too scared to bust your new besties now?"

"They aren't my new besties stop making up bullshit." The elder stubbornly defends.

"No you stop because I'm actually trying here!"

"Oh you are? Explain why you're getting so serious with that girl of yours. Wait until she finds out that she's just part of the plan." He jumps on Mark's throat and walks out of the room.

The thing is, you weren't even part of the plan. Not at all.

-----

"You better have good shit for me today." The chief clearly was not being in his best mood today.

Mark scoffs, he and Johnny had not settled their differences since the fight from two days ago, they were doing their own investigations without communicating. Which was a big no.

"Ask the big guy here, I'm sure he has something." Tongue in his cheek, Mark glares.

The chief slams a big hand on the table and shouts, "Stop acting like fucking children!"

Johnny stiffened up on his seat, and gulped before he spoke. "I think we need to initiate a drug test on one of the students, chief. I have my eye on this one person. We could pretend to say that the thing is randomized and mandatory. If the intel can look up information about his parents, we could send a pretend automated message about their child being randomly selected for a drug test."

The chief seems to be taking Johnny's point well, "And who is this you suspect?"

"Nakamoto Yuta."

Mark looks at Johnny with wide eyes, he thought Johnny wouldn't be turning him in.

"I see. I'll get the department to execute this idea of yours and we'll let you know right away. Dismissed."

Mark catches up to Johnny who had been walking ahead of him and tries to reach for the elder's shoulder. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Let go of me," Johnny knocks Mark's hand off his shoulder. "Are you happy now?"

Dumbfounded, Mark couldn't seem to understand where Johnny's irritation was coming from. "Look man, I'm sorry you had to turn one of your friends in but you know it's our job."

"I know okay? I don't need you telling me what to do because so far, I know pretty damn well that I'm not meddling in your fucking business."

Mark pushes a hard hand on Johnny, making him stumble a little. "My relationship has nothing to do with this. Are you jealous? Because if you are, I know pretty damn well you can score a lot of chicks here. I don't see the problem."

Johnny tries to speak but was unable to because Mark had already stormed off elsewhere.

----

"Shit. My parents are coming to fetch me today." Yuta runs a veiny hand through his ginger hair; another reason for his parents to pull him out of university. But here's the first:

Jaehyun, disinterested even if he knew it was serious whenever Yuta's parents butt in and ask why.

"They wanna do a drug test on me."

Jaehyun chortles, "What? You? What made them think that? Besides you acting like a crackhead?"

"They got this stupid email from the dean that I was amongst the randomly chosen individuals to get tested." He pops a sour kid patch in his mouth, "They're never letting this go." He pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head. "I have never even tried NCT." he rolls his eyes.

Yuta, though by the looks of him, gave an impression of a boy who would try everything in front of him, but he's a wuss with a good conscience. Too good.

"Well, you are innocent after all, right?" Jaehyun shrugs. "There's nothing to worry about. Um, besides your dyed hair, your tattoo, that lip piercing." He eyes him up and down. "No biggie, just probably uh—two weeks worth of grounding. And no allowance."

"Fuck you man." the ginger-haired boy glared.

------

Johnny walks around the campus, alone. It sucked to not be on good terms with Mark, what ever happened to bros before hoes? It just wasn't the same doing things without him. Johnny had given Mark his personal space for the both of you, but at times like this—it was the hardest to stay out of it.

As he passes by the back of the Fine Arts building, he sees two familiar faces on the exposed staircase.

He squints his eyes and tries to focus on who those people might be, the mop of ash purple hair too familiar. But one thing that utterly shocked him was the sight of someone he expected the least.

It was you and Jaehyun, standing way too close to each other for anyone's liking.

Johnny takes a deep breath and sucks in his cheeks. He didn't know what this meant, and he wished he wouldn't have to be the one to give it any interpretation that would disappoint him and especially Mark.

He walks away from the scene before you get a chance to see him.

"Jaehyun, you don't have to stand this close to me," You backed up, hips hitting the ledge lightly.

He looks to the side, then back at you. "Sorry," he cockily says, backing up with both of his hands raised. "Can't help it. My best friend's too fine. And someone was looking." he mumbles.

"What?"

"Nothing, he's gone"

"You know I'm with Kalen right now Jaehyun." You say with worry, it could've been anyone. "Quit. Don't ruin this for me."

He manages to let a disgruntled chuckle, "And yet you still can't put a label on it."

And with that, he was off.

The entire time Johnny was battling with himself if she should tell Mark about what he saw or not. Them being in a misunderstanding right now doesn't change the fact that he was still his best friend.

After the excruciatingly slow walk to the dorm, he had hoped that Mark wouldn't be around, so he wouldn't have to face him with the information he had right away. He couldn't even form the words for it. The. again, when did anything ever go his way, right?

Johnny enters the room and there was Mark, munching on some chips while viewing something on his laptop. Something probably for one of his classes. Mark didn't have to take this so seriously (by this he meant his classes) but he did, because the Mark we all know just loved to learn. Good for him.

He ignores Johnny's presence; though he was very much aware of it. The elder plops down his bed and grabs his football to toss around. It was so awkward; not greeting each other with their usual weirdness and excitement. It felt like there was this gaping hole between them that both of them were afraid to cross, and no one had the initiative to take a risk—for now.

"Find anything?" Johnny asks Mark, eyes on the ceiling.

"Nope."

"Why not?"

"Do you have anything?"

Well, he did. But not about their task. Instead, he says "Nope." but he couldn’t help but ask. “How are you and y/n?”

“Good.” Mark plainly answers.

“Good.”

And left it at that.

-----

You were going to let your parents meet Mark today, and his would meet yours. You were new to this, there was not a single man you had introduced to your parents, aside from Jaehyun. But that was a different story, because Jaehyun was a childhood friend.

So Mark was the first… whatever this was called. You couldn’t get yourself to call him that, you didn’t deserve to. For you labels were earned, not just given. But this will do for now.

You see him from a distance with his parents, he resembled his father’s face structure and his mother’s eyes. His smile was uniquely his own. You wave a hand in the air and he catches the sight of it, smiling even wider.

“You’re in college again honey?” Mark’s mom asks, clueless.

“Mom, I'm undercover please don’t bring that up anywhere. Please keep quiet for me.” He whispers sternly.

His mom zips her mouth figuratively, his dad got the idea of the whole thing, so they acted according to the assignment.

As he got closer to where you were, his legs grew weak. But he couldn’t falter, he had to put on a strong face. But at that moment, Mark wanted to be buried alive. He wanted to turn his back and run away.

“Mom, dad, this is Kalen.” You present him to them with a grin.

“H-hello.” Mark lets out, his chest clenching.

“Kalen. You sure I haven’t seen you before?” Your father says, gripping Mark’s hand firm, he could almost squeeze the guts out of it. Your father was his deputy chief.

Mark, crushed under the man’s grip, “N-no sir.” he manages to blurt out.

You sense the tension and tell your dad, “Dad, that’s enough.”

Your dad let go, with a smug and bitter look on his face. Your mom, who- with absolutely no idea what Mark has to do with your father, greets him politely.

You greet Mark's parents with glee, and proceed to walk with him, keeping a fair distance from both your parents. "Sorry about my dad, he's just stressed about his job. He's a deputy chief, rustling with knuckleheads all the time." You explain.

Sure he's been through a lot. Mark thought. "Yea yea, I totally get it. It's fine." he nods. Knuckleheads. He laughs to himself.

The rest of the parents’ day event was a total drag, every time Mark got into eye contact with their chief, it had seemed like the man wanted to rip his head away from his body, or maybe skin him alive. Mark had no idea, because if he did he wouldn’t have risked going this far with you. What is left to do now? How can he ever face his boss knowing that he broke the first rule given to them right in his face? And with his own daughter? He should start digging his own grave at this point.

But the chief didn't lay a finger on him, not now when his daughter was at stake.

----

Mark has been itching to tell Johnny about what had happened. He was willing to set aside their differences because he needed his best friend, now.

"Johnny-" Mark breathes, not making eye contact with the elder who was on his phone, this room had been dead silent for days.

Johnny's head perks up, it was nice hearing him call his name again. "Yeah?"

"I kinda messed up… big time." Mark scratches the back of his head, shameful.

Johnny sits up, and listens to the younger more attentively. "What do you mean?"

"Y/n.." he trails off, "Y/n is the chief's daughter." And catches his face on his hands.

"Fuck…" Johnny didn't know what to say. "How'd you know?"

"The student-parent weekend thing. God, I swear dude he was going to skin me alive if he could. But shit, I didn't know!" Mark exclaims, hands all over the place. "If I did then I wouldn't have gone through with this. She has never told me about her parents until that day. I don't know what to do."

He seemed so helpless, he didn't want to break to you like this, it was too messy. But damn if he didn't want to keep being with you. It couldn't end like this, not yet.

"I- I don't know what to say man… God I'm sorry this sucks ass. You know I always let you do what makes you happy right? But what if," Johnny stops, debating if he should go on with what he planned to say.

"What if?" Mark anticipates.

"What if she isn't who you thought she was?"

"Great. I'm so fucking stupid for thinking you would be with me on this one." Mark slams his hands on his lap and stands, slamming the door on the way out.

"Mark-" Johnny reaches for the door but misses a beat, it was too late. He let his best friend slip away from him again.

And as soon as Mark left their room, he was on his way to meet up with you, hoping you would be free. He hadn't had much time with you after the following days of the event because you had always excused yourself with how busy you are with your submissions and requirements, or that's what you would like to tell him.

Your phone rings in your pocket as you excuse yourself from the people you were with at the moment, when you check to see who it was, you find the quietest place possible.

"Kalen," You spoke, "What's up?"

"Are you free? I was hoping I'd finally catch you."

You sigh, you missed spending time with him. "I am," you say in advance before you bail out of this place you were in. "See you at the cafe in 10?"

You hear him chuckle over the line, and you just knew he was smiling when he said "Great, I'll see you."

"See you, Kal." You smile and tuck your phone back in your pocket.

"Who was that?" Jaehyun asks when he bumps into you in the hallway of the frat house. "Oh you've got that sickening smile right now. It must've been Kalen" He rolls his eyes.

"Whatever Jae," You brush past him. "I'm heading out."

"But we're not done!"

You didn't respond and left, shutting the door behind you.

The cafe was a short walk from your university, but you just happened to bump into Mark on the way, now you don't have to walk alone.

He smoothly slips his hand in yours, holding it gently and reading your expression. You look to the side with a wide grin on your face, unable to help the fact that you were blushing like crazy.

"Nice hoodie," he comments. The garment looked a little too familiar to him, he just couldn't quite put his finger on it. “You never gave back my jacket..”

You mentally facepalm, forgetting the fact that you were wearing Jaehyun's hoodie. You pray that Mark wouldn't see this on him anytime soon, you wouldn't want him to get a bad idea.

"Oh right that, I’ll get it dry cleaned and I’ll give it back" you utter. "Something bothering you?" You ask, trying to read his sulky expression.

He shakes his head, "No no, I want you to keep it. And I just missed you." He forms a small smile, making your heart melt. You were so easily captivated by his presence that it scared you. He always left you feeling unhinged—in a good way.

"I missed you too, tiger." You grip his hand a little tighter.

When he licks his lips, only by then you realize how much you missed kissing him. Right then and there, you just wanted another taste. This was exactly why you were trying to keep yourself busy and away from him for a bit; you had to convince yourself that you couldn’t be attached to him because you could never take care of the things you keep.

He opens the door for you like always and the chimes in the cafe ring in a sweet melody, a sound that always reminds you of your moments with him. The both of you always shared comfortable memories in this cafe, from small coffee dates to working on papers until it closed. You couldn’t imagine sharing it with anyone else.

When you settle down he automatically takes your usual orders right away. You could not take your eyes off him, he was such a dream.

He sets the tray down with your drinks, and a pastry that you shared a love-hate relationship with. Cheesecake.

You chuckle at the thought of recalling all the times that you convinced Mark that cheesecake slices weren’t supposed to be as huge as they are and that there are definitely better one’s in other places, but Mark’s favorite was Starbucks’. Maybe that’s why you have learned to love it somehow, because you get to enjoy it with him.

"I thought you didn't like this? You almost finished the whole thing… I literally bought this for myself." He says sarcastically, very much amused at how you barely even noticed that you were close to finishing the entire thing.

"Oh shit.. sorry" You show him a pout and feed the last piece to him. "Here." You smile cutely.

He rolls his eyes and bites it off your fork, you both bid goodbye to the cheesecake.

Mark’s phone rings in his pocket and when he checks to see, it was Johnny. He lets out a sigh and puts his phone back in his pocket.

“Are you going to take that?” You ask.

“Nah”

But Johnny was persistent, he did see this coming. He knew that Mark would ignore him at first so he decided to send him a message. This was about their job.

“Mark, I know you hate me right now but we have to go to the office. Yuta’s tests came back.” Johnny sends.

Mark takes a peek at his message, immediately standing up.

“Where are you going?” You say, surprised.

“I’m sorry I gotta go- meet my brother. He needs me for something.” He hesitantly leans forward, wanting to kiss you on the lips but kisses your forehead instead. “Text me when you get home okay?.” And with that, he was off.

Mark rings Johnny and the elder quickly answers the call, Mark informs him that he would be heading to the office by himself since he was already closer to the location.

But he suddenly remembers about his conflict with the chief. So he waited for Johnny to arrive outside.

Lowering his pride he says, “I’m scared.”

Johnny looks at him with empathy and says, “We can’t change what happened Mark. Just take it all in for now and we’ll figure out what to do about it later.” He pats the younger’s back and gives his shoulders an assuring squeeze before heading inside.

Mark could not look at his boss, the feeling of wanting to be eaten alive was back again, why did he have to be your father?

When Mark finally gets the courage to face him, the chief yells, “The fuck are you looking at?” making Mark flinch and shrink into his seat.

Johnny felt the need to protect his friend and at the same time, to get what they were really here for. “Um, Sir can you save the ass beating for next time? We really need to look into Yuta’s results now.” He scratches the back of his neck.

The chief grunts angrily, getting the file from his drawer. “Negative.” He says.

Mark and Johnny give each other a look and take the folder that had the results, trying to analyze how it could possibly be negative.

“Dammit.” Johnny whispers to himself, they had to move quickly before everything slips away from them. He takes note of Yuta’s contact number in the file to use for later. He closes the folder and places it back on the desk. “We’ll take care of this chief.”

“You better. And you,” He presses a hard finger on Mark’s chest, “Stop fucking around with my daughter. I’ll cut your dick off.”

Mark purses his lips before speaking, “She’s-” he gulps, “She’s really great sir. I’m not playing around with her. I’d never do anything to hurt her.”

“You already are.”

-----

The following day, Yuta receives a text from an unknown number, asking him to meet in an unusual location on campus. He was very skeptical at first but believed that it was probably harmless.

“Yah, Rolan! Sup.” He offers his fist to bump. “I was just waiting for someone here too. Some random number texted me and I was like "you know, fuck it"” he shrugs.

Johnny couldn’t help but chuckle. Was innocence even the word to describe this? "And you believed them?" Johnny shakes his head.

“Yeah! Look here’s the number” he flashes his phone screen to Johnny, “I wonder where they are. Let me give them a call.” he mindlessly puts the phone next to his ear. Yuta hears a muffled cellphone ringtone and looks around for it. “Yo, your phone’s ringing you should get that.” Yuta says to Johnny, still having absolutely no idea.

“It was us who texted you, dummy.” Mark retorts, appearing from the shadows, now both of them are cornering Yuta.

“Yo,-” Yuta laughs, still not getting the point of this all. “What’s your name again?”

Mark rolls his eyes, “Kalen.”

“Right! Kalen wassup? You’re his brother right?” Yuta points to Johnny with his thumb up.

Johnny pops a tongue in his cheeks, and cocks his brow. “Alright, fun’s over.” It was a shame he had to do this too early, but it had to stop. He locks Yuta’s throat with his arm, pushing him onto the solid brick wall.

Yuta tries to toughen up and tries to push Johnny’s arm off, but due to their size difference, Johnny definitely kept him still.

“What do you know about him” Johnny asks sternly.

“A-about who?” Yuta coughs.

“Jaehyun. What does he do?” Mark follows.

“Besides being the most handsome man I know, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Mark shakes his head, “Well,” and gets a gun out of the pocket of his hoodie. “Will this make you talk?”

Yuta looks at him with wide eyes, he was now scared shitless. “Why- how- who are you guys!” He exclaims.

“The police mother fucker.” Johnny says.

But despite everything, Yuta’s tactless mouth was definitely not his best asset. “I knew it. you looked too old to be a freshman.” He looks over at Johnny. “And you, I didn’t expect you to be a cop but you did give Narc vibes in that philosophy class.”

Mark and Johnny give each other a look, they could not be sidetracked.

“Are you done?” Johnny tells Yuta, and he simply nods. “So are you going to talk?”

“I’m telling you I don’t know! He never trusts me with his business, he says I have a big mouth.”

Mark snickers, “I can tell.”

Yuta scoffs, and follows, “He’s been out often recently, but he never tells me where he’s going. So I don’t know what I can do for you.”

“Listen here buddy,” Johnny warns. “If this gets to your parents that you’re involved with someone who supplies and distributes drugs, you’re going to get your entire family deported. Do you want that?”

Yuta gulps, “No.” then helplessly says, “I don’t know how to earn his trust with these kinds of things. He’s known me since forever but-”

“No buts.” Mark interrupts. “Use that head of yours or your ass is going back to Japan.”

-------

Yuta had been on edge ever since that encounter with Mark and Johnny, now this entire thing would be up to him if he cooperated or not. Yuta’s heart had been lost a couple times, but it was definitely looking to be in the right place. So he’s trying his best to help out, even if it meant that he would have to turn in his best friend.

When he gets the time to be alone with his thoughts he looks back at all the times that Jaehyun had made him feel like he wasn’t enough to be his friend. Not giving him a good position in football, walking out on him whenever he wanted to, keeping secrets from him. Maybe he was too busy trying so hard to be validated by Jaehyun that he never really got to realize that he lost himself in the process. Letting himself be trampled all over by everyone; this was his time to do something not just for himself, but for everyone else.

On the night when Jaehyun could not escape from Yuta’s presence any longer, he thought that it would be harmless to let his friend tag along for once. It’s not like he had other friends to be with, right? Right. Jaehyun could believe that if he wanted to.

“I’m a bit sore today, you think you can drive me?” Jaehyun asks Yuta as they were walking in the parking lot after practice.

To be fair, Yuta was sore too. But of course they wouldn’t care. “Alright, where to?” He still manages to say.

“I’ll tell you along the way.”

Yuta simply shrugs and Jaehyun tosses him his car keys, placing their gym bags at the trunk of his car. Jaehyun had given him directions while driving and it was somewhere he had never been and seen before. “Are you sure it’s here?” He says, trying to drive into a dark abandoned building with only the car’s headlights being the source of light.

“Yeah yeah, wait for me here.” Jaehyun opens the door of the car and slips away from it. “Don’t worry, this place is safe.” He tells Yuta and shuts the door close.

Yuta immediately whips out his phone, thinking that this might be his biggest clue and texts Johnny.

I don’t know where I am, but I’m gonna send you my pinned location based on what my gps says alright? I think this was where Jaehyun had been going.

Johnny immediately tells Mark about this and they immediately take their car to go to where Yuta had told them.

Rolan: Yuta, it’s not safe for you to stay there. Can you drive away and head back here? It would be better if we keep you alive.

I guess I could, Jaehyun’s pretty far out now. I saw him go in somewhere, I’m sure you’ll find this entrance when you get here.

With that Yuta drives off and tries to find his way back to the campus, hoping that this would be successful for Mark and Johnny. He had such a strong feeling about this, everything could go right, or just extremely wrong. But he had to expect both to keep his feet on the ground. He did the right thing. He kept telling himself that.

“Dude this place is sketchy as hell.” Mark says, looking around. “Do you think Yuta told us the truth? I mean he’s Jaehyun’s bestfriend right?”

“It wouldn’t hurt to try Mark, he seemed pretty genuine about it. Besides, all Jaehyun does is use him. I’m sure he’s tired of it.” Johnny says as they searched the place with their flashlights, their guns ready to fire if they ever go under attack.

Finally, they find the entrance Yuta has been talking about, the chain attached to the door unlocked and loosened. When they get closer they arm themselves and keep their guard, Johnny kicks the door open and Mark could not believe what he had just seen.

This couldn’t be. He kept repeating to himself, he didn’t want to believe that this was his reality.

The reality that you were the one who was behind all of this.

“Hands up! We’re the police.” Johnny shouts, echoing throughout the entire warehouse.

Mark gulps, he could not bring himself to move his feet and go closer. When you see him, you feel like you have been the biggest disappointment in someone’s life. “Kalen,” You plead with your hands up, terrified with the fact that Johnny had called off a warning shot, making you and Jaehyun back up.

“Y/n.” Mark says, still struggling to get closer to you and lift his arm to aim his gun towards you. “Why- how could you?”

And you couldn’t answer him. The last thing you ever wanted to do was disappoint him, and yet you turned out to be every single disappointment that this world could think of.

“Great.” Jaehyun says in anger, remorseful with the fact that both of you just got caught by the two people who had been the closest to you these past months.

“Mark, come on. This is just as hard as it is for me than it is for you. We have to do this. It’s all we’ve been working for.” Johnny faces him, also extremely disheartened by this revelation.

Mark? His real name was Mark? “Who’s Mark?” You ask before he continues to approach you.

“Right. Now you know.” He takes a deep breath. He gets his handcuffs out of his pocket and races towards you before you could even get away. It was bizarre; how you even thought of escaping this.

“You have the right to remain silent,” His hands shake while putting them against your back, “Anything that you say can and will be held against you in the court of law.” He swallows, and you sob.

“I’m so sorry I-” he cuts you off.

“You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you.” He concludes the Miranda rights and adds, “It’s one thing to disappoint me, but another to disappoint your father.”

-----end------

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fific7 · 3 years

Text

Evil Twins - Part 2

Billy Russo & Aleksander Morozova x Reader

Summary: When two worlds which have already collided then collide with yours - that’s an explosive situation.

A/N: This does not follow canon, it’s mainly a mix of fluff and angst with quite a lot of lemon zest 🍋 My Fantasy Punisher/Shadow and Bone crossover AU.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW due to sexual content including oral and unprotected* sex between consenting adults. Some drinking & swearing.

*Irl, please don’t go wild in the country without protection.

(My photo edit)

The mutual staring contest went on between the three of you for some moments longer.

Then the one in the suit (character name - Billy Russo) cleared his throat and said, “Uh… hi.” He held his hands up, palms out, as if trying to calm you down although you hadn’t even uttered a sound.

“Don’t start screaming or nothin’, we’re not gonna hurt you.” “Speak for yourself,” muttered the other one, eyes still drinking in every inch of you. Billy shot him a dirty look, before turning back to you, “Now, sweetheart, I guess you’re wonderin’ why we’re here.”

Nodding, you felt as if you’d temporarily lost the ability to speak.

And you still weren’t quite sure if you were stoned or not.

“You are not the only one, moi krasivyy,” said the guy in black (character name - The Darkling or General Kirigan) managing to look you in the eyes for once, “we are wondering that too!”

“Ha! That’s rich, comin’ from you. This is all your mother’s fault!” snapped Billy. “OUR mother!” yelled the General. The two of them squared up to each other, glaring into each other’s identical eyes.

Oh this is ridiculous, you thought. You jumped up - praying your dizziness had gone - and clapped your hands loudly once. Their heads turned towards you immediately.

“Okay, that’s enough. Sit down please.”

To your surprise, they did as you asked. Side by side on your other sofa, looking up at you - they really were identical, hairstyles differing a little but apart from that - two peas in a pod.

“Here’s what I do know, although it isn’t much. I was watching two TV series tonight, and you are in one of them and you’re in the other,” you pointed at each of them in turn, “..you are Billy Russo and you are The Darkling. Well, that was in the book, you’re called General Kirigan in the TV series. And now you’re both here. In my flat.” You’d noticed Billy eye-rolling as you were speaking, and now he snorted, turning to the General, “The Darkling? What kind of fucking stupid-ass name is that?!”

The General jumped up off the sofa and so did Billy, and they were back to staring each other out, nose to nose.

You sighed, and folded your arms across your chest. That’s when you remembered you really were too scantily clad to be standing in front of two strangers like this, so without a word you stalked off into your bedroom to get your dressing gown. Putting one arm into a sleeve and pulling it round your shoulders to pull the other sleeve on, you turned to leave and found the two of them standing in the doorway, watching while you were putting on your robe.

“Out!” you shooed them in front of you, and they reluctantly walked back down the short hallway and into your living room. You waved them back onto the sofa, tying your robe, and they both sat down again.

“Now, where were we? Oh yes. How on earth did two TV characters end up in my flat? And why do you look like each other - I thought the two characters were played by the same actor. But there are two of you!”

They exchanged a glance, and Billy replied, “We’ve only just discovered that we’re twins. And I’ll tell you what we know but it won’t make sense. It doesn’t even make sense to us.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

About an hour later, the two of them were just staring at you again and you were staring back. You’d introduced yourself by now, filled them in on exactly where they’d arrived at, and made tea. They’d sat there on your sofa sipping from their cups, telling you their frankly unbelievable stories.

You’d listened patiently as they explained why they’d ended up in your living room, and when Billy had mentioned the part about his apartment being sealed so they couldn’t get out, you’d raced over to your front door. Heart sinking, you pulled uselessly at the door handle. It wouldn’t budge.

Sitting back down and giving a huge sigh, you sank back into the cushions and managed to calmly say, “You realise I still can’t get my head round this? You. Two. Are. Fictional. Characters! Do you understand? You’re not supposed to be real! But now it seems you are, and you’re sitting on my sofa!”

That’s when the staring had recommenced. Then Billy had simply said, “Sorry ‘bout that.”

You burst out laughing, and Billy grinned at you. The General looked annoyed and you heard him mutter, “He’s not that amusing.” Turning towards him, you said, “Now now, General, is that some sibling rivalry right there?” His dark eyes met yours, “Call me Aleksander. And no - we’ve not been ‘siblings’ long enough to feel any rivalry.” “Are you sure about that, Aleksander?” you asked.

Billy smirked at him, and Aleksander literally snarled, “He’s nothing compared to me!”

You sighed. You could guess what was going to happen next. Yes, there they go…..

They’d both leapt up and were doing their facing off thing, snarking and bitching at each other.

You did your hand-clapping thing and like good puppies they stopped and sat down, both still huffing though. “Billy,” you said, and he looked over at you, “Did you ask Baghra which Small Science you specialised in? Aleksander is a Shadow Summoner.” “The Shadow Summoner,” you heard Aleksander mutter, but you ignored him and carried on. “What is yours? You must be Grisha too, right?”

“Not necessarily!” Aleksander butted in, sulky look on his face, “he could be Otkazat'sya,” he looked over at you, “…that’s people without Grisha capabilities.” Billy glowered at him. “Was your father Grisha too?” you asked Aleksander. His face became stern and closed off, “Yes. A Heartrender. I don’t know anything else about him.”

Oh, you thought, think I touched a nerve there. “You said Baghra is a Shadow Summoner too, right? So is it not more likely that Billy would also have Grisha powers?” He sighed, admitting, “Yes, he probably does.” “I didn’t get a chance to ask,” said Billy, with a triumphant smirk aimed at Aleksander appearing on his face. You got the distinct feeling that he’d really wanted to stick his tongue out at his twin, but somehow he’d managed not to. Aleksander was glaring back at him, looking like he wanted to strangle Billy.

How long were these two going to be here? you silently thought. It was like you’d suddenly adopted two sulky teenage boys. Or two large toddlers. Either description would fit.

It was exhausting.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Earlier on, when their hostess had left them alone while she made tea, Aleksander had leant into Billy’s face and stated, “She is going to be mine. Just to make things crystal clear.” Billy had shaken his head, laughing, “Oh you think? Nah. She’s definitely going to go for me, given the choice.” “Ha! She needs a real man, not some…” he looked Billy over, “…pathetic idiot who dresses in suits. And as I haven’t had sex in decades, it’s only fair that I get the woman.”

Billy had been laughing out loud at this and was just about to reply when she’d returned with three cups of tea and some biscuits on a plate. She’d given them a strange look as she’d placed these on the coffee table, but Billy had quietened down almost immediately and both of them now had innocent smiles on their faces.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You were yawning by now, informing them that you were going to bed and that they’d need to sleep on the two small sofas.

They’d exchanged glances, and Aleksander had smirked, “That’s a very big bed you’ve got in your room.” You nodded, stating firmly, “Yes, a king-size bed. It’s got a lot of space… and it’s all for me. I’ll get some blankets and pillows for you two.”

Noting their disappointed looks, you walked through to your bedroom and pulled some blankets out of the ottoman chest at the foot of your bed. You were in a bit of a temper. If they thought for one second that just because you were all stuck in here for however long you were going to open your legs for them, they would soon find out in a very painful manner that sex wasn’t on the menu. You weren’t dumb, you’d seen how the two of them - Aleksander in particular - had been looking at you like you were a snack.

Just as you were rummaging right down to the bottom of the ottoman for the spare pillows, you were suddenly aware of a figure next to you. You grabbed the pillows and stood up, scowling at Aleksander who was once again devouring you with his eyes. “I don’t need any help, thank you,” you snapped at him. However he moved even closer to you, “I was thinking more along the lines of you helping me, moi krasivyy.” “Moi what? What’s that mean?” you asked, sidetracked by curiosity getting the better of you. He grinned at you, “Moi krasivyy. It means ‘my beautiful one’. Because you are. Very beautiful.”

You suddenly heard Billy’s voice, “He’s just trying to talk himself into your bed.”

Aleksander whipped round, scowling at Billy. “Shut up!” he yelled at him.

“Ooh, touchy!”

“I meant every word I said. She is very beautiful!”

“Yes, of course she is, just like you said! But she doesn’t need you to tell her that.”

“Why shouldn’t I tell her she’s beautiful?”

“Because you’ve got a hidden agenda!”

“And you don’t?!”

“We both want to fuck her and you know it! You’re just being more obvious about it!”

They both froze as soon as those words came out of Billy’s mouth and their heads swung towards you, two sets of worried eyes meeting yours. You had your arms crossed again, and boy were you pissed.

“Firstly, I’m right here, you know. Standing right here listening to you argue about who’s going to fuck me.” They both looked somewhat ashamed. “Well, let me tell you…. that will be neither of you! The arrogance of the two of you! Not only do you land in my flat totally uninvited but you act as if I’ve been provided as your personal fucktoy. Not gonna happen! Have we got that clear?”

They both nodded, and you heard mumbled ‘Sorry’s’ as you stomped out past them to the living room. Both followed behind you, now silent. Dumping the blankets and pillows onto one of the sofas, you huffed a ‘Goodnight’ to them and returned to your room, firmly closing the door. Pity it didn’t lock, you thought.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy was squirming about under his blanket, his long legs hanging off the edge of the too-short sofa. Across from him on the other sofa, Aleksander was doing exactly the same.

“This is your fault,” grumbled Aleksander, “…if you hadn’t inserted yourself into the conversation, I could’ve been sharing that lovely bed with that lovely woman.” “Dream on, jerk,” laughed Billy, “you don’t stand a chance.” “Of course I stand a chance! More than you do…. jerk!” replied Aleksander, adding, “Whatever that means.” “A jerk perfectly describes you…. a very annoyin’ stupid prick!” “It describes you perfectly too!” Voices rising, both getting ready to jump up yet again and really get into it. Which was rapidly becoming a thing with the twins.

“It perfectly describes both of you!” came a shout from behind the closed bedroom door. “Now just shut up and go to sleep!”

They exchanged guilty looks and settled uncomfortably back down on their respective sofas.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Emerging into the living room the next morning, you saw two dark heads peeking out from underneath their blankets and heard two sets of soft snores. Their feet were dangling off the ends of the sofas, and you momentarily felt sorry for them. Your furniture was not intended for six-foot males to sleep on.

Heading to your kitchen, you filled and switched on the kettle, then took a loaf of bread out of a cupboard and popped four slices into the toaster. Hmm… you didn’t have a huge amount of food in your fridge and cupboards. Before all… this had happened, you’d intended picking some more up today. How were you going to get more supplies? And what about your store! Everyone would wonder why it was closed. The store was only usually shut on Sundays, and today was Saturday.

This was a complete disaster. Sighing, you took out another two slices of bread to await toasting and as you closed up the wrapping, suddenly noticed that the loaf didn’t feel as if had got any smaller. You opened it up again and double-checked. You had previously only used a couple of slices, and no way was this loaf now 6 slices lighter, it was exactly the same as it had been. “Oh fuck off,” you muttered. What was this? Narnia? Alice in Fucking Wonderland? Oh well - maybe this meant you and your two ‘guests’ wouldn’t starve.

You jumped, startled, as you heard Billy’s voice behind you, “Somethin’ wrong, sweetheart?” He was leaning against the doorframe, wearing only a pair of tight black boxer briefs. Your jaw dropped as you took in this vision of masculine beauty. His smirk at you was totally self-satisfied, and you closed your mouth immediately. “Can’t you put some clothes on!” you snapped, and his grin got wider. “Only got my suit and it ain’t that comfortable for loungin’ around in.”

The toaster popped up at that point and you jumped again. “Am I makin’ you nervous, sweetheart?” he grinned. You turned away and took out the butter from the fridge. Placing the remaining two slices in the toaster, you began to spread the butter on the other 4 slices. “No, you are not,” you denied, looking defiantly at him, knowing it wasn’t true. The two of them were really hot guys, no denying that, but you absolutely couldn’t let them know that’s what you were thinking.

Aleksander now appeared behind him, likewise clad in just his underwear - black boxer shorts - and leant on the other side of the door, arms crossed on his chest. “You’re very kind, making tea for us,” he commented.

Oh good lord! your man-starved mind screeched, this is just too much first thing in the morning! Two male thirst traps, looking like they were currently shooting a Calvin Klein ad.

You hastily turned away and said, “Can one of you make yourself useful, please? Put three teabags into the teapot and fill it up with the hot water.” You hid a grin as they both tried to come into the kitchen at the same time and got jammed in the door. “Okay - Billy, you do it,” you said, “you’ve probably got more experience...” He chuckled, “Yes I have, angel. More than him, that’s for sure!” just as you added, “…of making tea.” Now it was Aleksander’s turn to laugh, “Yes… in tea-making only. Other people usually make my tea.”

“Now don’t you two start arguing again!”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You brought the teapot, cups and plate of toast into the living room and put it down on the coffee table, noting that they’d folded up their blankets and piled them on top of their pillows on one of the sofas. Must be the military training, you thought. They were sitting on one of the sofas again, both still in their underwear. That was disturbing.

Now you were the one having to stop your eyes roaming over their bodies. Both of which happened to be lean, athletic and very nicely toned, commented your mind. Okay! Enough of that. Did you have any men’s clothes still lying around anywhere, you wondered? Quite possibly, and you decided you’d have a good look once you’d had your tea and toast.

Later on, you came out of your bedroom having found two pairs of grey tracksuit bottoms and a couple of black t-shirts, left behind by your previous boyfriend. You’d laundered them, intending to give them back to him but he’d moved out of the area so that never happened, and they’d lived in one of your drawers ever since. And just as well they had, you thought - I’ve got to get them into some clothes or else I won’t be responsible for my actions.

Handing them over, you remarked, “Hopefully these fit you.” Billy looked at them, nose wrinkling, “Whose are these?” “An ex of mine. Don’t worry! They’ve been washed.” They both stood up and pulled on the jogging bottoms, maybe a tiny bit short for them but not by too much. You smiled to yourself as you noticed one’s movements often mirrored the other’s. They really were twins in every way, although you were sure they’d argue with you on that point.

Both shook out the t-shirts and looked at the band logos on each. “Led Zeppelin?” queried Aleksander. “An old school rock band,” you replied. He looked none the wiser, shrugging but pulling the t-shirt on over his head nevertheless. “Queen!!?” howled Billy, “I’m not wearin’ that!” “Why not, Billy? I love Queen!” you said, offended. He glanced over at you, “Oh, do you? Well… alright then,” and on it went without further argument. The two of them stood there, looking each other over and arguing about which of them looked better in their new outfits.

This really is like getting the children ready for school, you smirked to yourself. Secretly you found it rather amusing that these two alpha males kept challenging each other. But it was just as well you were around to act as referee before they came to actual blows.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

After having put the TV on for the ‘kids’, you began to gather the tea cups, tea pot and plates back onto the tray, fervently hoping that your dishwasher was still working. You noticed that in the few short moments they’d been sitting on the sofas, Aleksander’s eyes were beginning to close. You called his name softly and when he opened his eyes again, told him he could go and take a nap in your bed if he liked. His eyes sparkling, he was off the sofa and sprinting through to your bedroom before you’d properly finished your sentence. The bedroom door slammed.

Billy huffed, “You know he was just doing that ‘dozing off because I’m so tired’ thing just so he could sleep in your bed?” You picked up the tray, “Really? Now, don’t be jealous Billy, you can join him if you like.” Predictably, as you turned to head to the kitchen, you heard, “I’m not sharing a bed with him!”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy followed on your heels into the kitchen, and you jumped as you put down the tray and realised he was so close behind you.

“Sorry,” he shrugged, “I just wanted to say - while my delightful twin is out of the way for once - that I’m really truly sorry about what I said last night. About… you know, you and me and him, and.. uhh.. well, you know.” “Yes, Billy, I do know. Apology accepted.” You took the lid off the teapot and turned back to the sink.

He continued, “I really do wanna fuck you but I shoulda told you that in private.”

The teapot lid clattered into the sink, “Billy! Do you have to be so… so direct!” you yelled, while he just stood there, looking down at you with those liquid dark chocolate eyes, trademark smirk on his face.

“We keep movin’ universes, sweetheart! -so carpe diem, as they say.”

He moved his body forwards, pushing you against the sink and a big hand was pulling your head towards his. You were still both maintaining eye contact up to this point; long fingers slid along your jawline and you felt his lips on yours in what quickly became a heated kiss. You saw his eyes close, and allowed yours to slowly close too.

This is such a bad idea!!!

….screeched that nagging little voice at the back of your mind.

But oh my lord, did it feel so very, very good…..

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

@aleksanderwh0r3 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @s1xthirty @tartiflvtte @slythvoid @edithsvoice @paracosmenthusiast

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

#billy russo #the darkling #ben barnes #general kirigan #aleksander morozova #shadow and bone #the punisher 💀#billy russo & aleksander morozova x reader #billy russo and aleksander morozova fanfiction #billy russo and aleksander morozova imagine #billy russo and aleksander morozova fanfic

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separatist-apologist · 3 years

Note

I have an idea for a one shot, Elucien, Nessian, and Feysand cutest couple contest and Elucien wins but then Eris and Arina walk in and actually win 😂

Okay anon, I'm sorry I sat on this for so long but it took me a hot minute to figure out how to write this.

I think you wanted fluff? Anyway you get unhinged insanity. This is the mating game (like the newly wed game) and if ANYONE says I got any of these couples besides Elucien wrong, it's because this is my first time writing them in earnest.

This is SFW though there are impolite sexual references so exercise good judgement. References to HENrietta the chicken (no apologies).

“What is this, again?” Nesta groused, crossing one leg over the other.

“It’s the mating game,” Gwyn, ever cheerful, replied. Beside her, Azriel helped organize a stack of cards, offering them to Gwyn without a word. The red-haired priestess perched on a stool to survey the group of people sitting in Rhys and Feyre’s drawing room. Though the game ought to be fun on its own, there were bottles of liquor just out of reach on a nearby table surrounded by cups and snacks.

“Why doesn’t he have to play?” Rhysand demanded, jerking his head towards the spymaster. All heads turned to look at Gwyn and Az, the two newest mates in Rhysand’s inner circle.

“Because he doesn’t want people knowing his personal business,” Gwyn offered. Azriel’s cheeks flushed as Lucien, Rhysand, and Cassian all glanced anywhere but at the females across from them. Twin black, leather couches had been rearranged for the game, with males on one side and females on the other. Behind the males, a roaring fire kept the howling wind outside from leeching cold into the softly lit room.

“Can we start or—”

“Not so fast,” Eris Vanserra stated, bursting through the twin glass, French doors theatrically. Behind him Arina, bundled in a puffy red coat, rolled her eyes and shook out long, blonde hair.

“I invited them,” Elain murmured quickly before Cassian or Rhysand could protest. “Arina is my best friend.”

“Hurtful, baby sister,” Eris intoned, joining the other males across the room. Arina plopped between Nesta and Elain, squeezing her friend tight. Azriel offered Arina a large stack of white cards and a black marker while Gwyn offered the same to Eris. It was impossible not to notice how Azriel’s eyes avoided Eris despite how desperately Eris was clearly trying to provoke him.

“The rules of this are simple,” Gwyn, perhaps sensing a squabble brewing, began explaining the rules of the game. “I ask questions about your mate, and you answer. The team with the most right answers wins that knife in the corner, generously donated by my mate, not to be used on anyone in this room.” Her eyes slid to Eris as she said that last part. Behind Azriel sat a gleaming silver hunting knife with a black, leather wrapped hilt placed just beside a matching leather sheath.

“Males first,” Rhysand decided and though Gwyn rolled her eyes, she didn’t contradict him.

“Want to take bets on who wins?” Cassian whispered.

“Shush,” Feyre shot back.

“The first question: What would your mate liked you to have served them when you accepted the bond?” Gwyn asked. All four females immediately turned to their cards. Elain began scribbling immediately, her lips upturned in a smile that very much said her and Lucien had discussed this before. Arina, too, was writing though her shoulders shook with laughter.

Nesta frowned, looking over at a furiously scrawling Cassian. “Did I not give him exactly what he wanted?” She whispered.

“No cheating!” Feyre elbowed Nesta though she hadn’t written anything either.

“Ten seconds,” Azriel warned. Everyone turned back to their cards, the only sound the squeaking of markers on slippery paper.

“Time.”

“Okay, we’ll start with Feyre. What would your mate likedyou to have served them when you accepted the bond?” Gwyn asked, teal eyes twinkling.

Feyre glanced towards Rhys, who was grinning openly. Azriel narrowed his eyes.

“No mind sharing,” the spymaster warned the pair of them.

“We’re not,” Feyre replied earnestly though the glitter in Rhysand’s violet eyes told the room he had definitely tried. “I wrote exactly what I gave him.”

“Turn your card, Rhys!” Gwyn replied excitedly. Rhys’ grin only widened.

“Oh for fucks sake,” Nesta snapped when Rhys revealed Feyre herself.

Beside Rhys, Lucien began shaking with silent laughter.

“Nesta?”

“I wrote what Feyre wrote,” Nesta replied, turning a card that read a biscuit.

“Oh…babe…we are going to lose,” Cassian said sadly, turning a card that read A nice roast.

“Ungrateful, is what you are,” Nesta grumbled.

“Elain?” Gwyn asked hopefully.

“Lucien said he would have been fine with dirt,” Elain replied, her card written neatly to reflect exactly what she said. Lucien turned his own card excitedly to reveal the word dirt written in impossibly nice calligraphy.

“The bar is so low,” Gwyn mumbled. “Okay, Arina, give us what you’ve got.”

“Eris wanted an apple pie,” she replied, flipping her card with a wink. Eris grinned, revealing his own card that had a drawing of an apple pie, followed with a little arrow pointing to his description that read apple pie.

“We cannot lose to Vanserra’s,” Cassian told Nesta.

“Then do better,” she hissed.

“Next question,” Gwyn interrupted, her teal eyes bright with amusement. “What is your mate afraid of?”

Everyone collectively groaned as they wrote. “This feels like political subterfuge,” Eris grumbled.

“Like anyone cares about your fears,” Azriel mumbled as a reply.

The responses were only a little better. Feyre and Rhysand both guessed my mate dying as their response. Nesta wrote endless warwhile Cassian responded with nothing, causing a booming laugh to escape Azriel’s mouth. Elain and Lucien also wrote my mate dying, and Eris, grinning at Arina, clapped his hands when she wrote falling into a pit trap. He’d done another drawing of a stick figure falling into a hidden hole causing the room to burst into speculation as to whether it had happened or not. The twinkle in Arina’s eyes suggested it very much had.

“Next question. What was the first thing your mate thought when they saw you for the first time?” Gwyn’s enthusiasm was unmatched and Azriel scooted just a little closer to Gwyn, his own hazel eyes bright with affection.

“Don’t get this one wrong, darling,” Rhys told Feyre as he wrote.

“I just know you two are cheating somehow,” Cassian complained.

“If we were cheating, we wouldn’t be losing to the Vanserra brothers,” Feyre shot back. “No offense, Lucien.”

“Some offense taken,” Lucien joked.

“Turn over your cards,” Azriel demanded.

Feyre went first. “I wrote, my mate is a human.” Rhys groaned, flipping over a card that read, “most beautiful female I’d ever seen.”

“That’s what I thought!” Feyre replied, outraged. Rhys merely shrugged. “We were thinking the same thing.”

Nesta, smirking, turned her card over next. My mate is terrifying.

Cassian cackled, revealing a card that read Nesta scared me.

“I know that’s romantic but…wow, Cas,” Azriel teased. Cassian merely shrugged.

“I always knew my perfect female would terrify me.”

“Same,” Nesta agreed with a smile.

Elain flipped over her card which read, oh no.

“You two sure are romantic,” Gwyn joked when Lucien’s card said the same.

“How do we know they’re not cheating?” Rhys demanded; eyes narrowed. Lucien sighed, exasperated.

“Perhaps we spend more time talking than the rest of you,” he suggested. Rhys considered that.

“Maybe. But only because my mouth is occupied—”

“C’mon!” The room complained. Even Gwyn narrowed her eyes at the High Lord, who displayed not one ounce of shame. Arina went last.

“Eris thought about how to get me naked,” Arina replied, revealing her card. True to form, Eris had drawn a rather crude image that caused Lucien to take the card from his elder brother and rip it in half.

At the end of the first round both Lucien and Elain and Arina and Eris were winning, with Feyre and Rhys coming in second and Nesta and Cassian in last place. They were given some time to talk with one another while Gwyn flipped through her cards, but the males were only interested in a rare bottle of whiskey Rhysand had recently acquired.

“This is why we’re losing,” Nesta complained when Cassian did two shots consecutively with Lucien.

“Hardly,” Elain teased as Azriel chuckled in agreement. Cassian narrowed his eyes towards his brother and Azriel shrugged.

“I heard enough up at that house.”

“Okay, okay, let’s do round two so we can all drink,” Gwyn insisted, urging everyone back to their spots. Elain winked at Lucien as Eris called, “We can’t let Lucien and Elain win.”

“Hey!” Elain cried.

“Full offense, Elain,” Eris added, earning a sharp elbow to the ribs from his younger brother.

“First question,” Gwyn called over the chatter. “What is your mates perfect day?”

The males all immediately began scribbling responses while the females watched suspiciously. Feyre went first. “In my art studio.”

Rhys groaned as he flipped his card. “In my bed.”

“You had to know I wasn’t going to write that,” Feyre chided.

“Ah but you were thinking it,” Rhys crooned.

Cassian, too, flipped over a card revealing a wholly inappropriate answer. Nesta sighed as she flipped hers over.

“Seriously? With my girls eating cake?”Cassian asked with disbelief while Gwyn rose from her stool to high-five Nesta.

“Hell yes, Cass. You know I love you.”

“Do I?”

Lucien was quick to flip over his card. “In the garden.”

Elain beamed, her own card reflecting his answer.

“That’s a euphemism, by the way,” Lucien informed the group, his cheeks-tinged pink from the alcohol. Elain spluttered, clearly embarrassed for all Lucien noticed. Cassian high-fived him with what he clearly thought was some covertness.

Eris was the last to flip his card which, true to form, depicted a rather crude drawing. Beneath it he’d written, getting absolutely wrecked.

Arina laughed. “You know me so well.” Her overturned card read Non-stop fucking.

“More information than I ever needed,” Azriel grumbled.

“Jealous?” Eris taunted. Azriel leveled an unyielding stare.

“In your fucking dreams.”

“I do dream of you,” Eris replied with a mocking grin.

“Who doesn’t?” Gwyn asked, defusing the situation with a smile. Next question, gentleman.”

“Don’t be gross this time,” Elain murmured, sending Lucien the sweetest death glare to ever exist.

“What are your mates biggest pet peeve?” Gwyn asked. All four males hesitated, glancing towards their mates as they wrote.

As usual, Rhys and Feyre went first. He wrote Tamlin which earned a round of laughter though did not match Feyre’s response (unlabeled paint tins). Cassian guessed Nesta’s answer right (being told what to do) and for the first time, Lucien guessed Elain’s answer wrong.

“Weeds?” Elain asked with an eye roll as she flipped a card to reveal mismatched patterns.

“Ah I almost wrote that,” Lucien said with a sheepish grin, reaching for the bottle of whiskey in Cassian’s hands.

“Are we going to let Eris win?” Nesta asked incredulously as he flipped over his card. It was a drawing of his face with big x’sfor eyes.

Arina laughed, her card reflecting his answer.

“I’m so afraid to go to Autumn Court,” Cassian mock whispered to Rhys. The High Lord nodded as he poured out more shots.

“Last question!” Gwyn told the room. “What is the best gift your mate ever gave you?”

All four men immediately began writing.

“Cassian I know what you’re thinking—”

“You don’t,” Cassian interrupted with a grin that told everyoneexactly what he was thinking.

“That’s my sister,” Elain reminded Cassian, who merely laughed.

Feyre got a little weepy when Rhys flipped over his card to reveal Nyx written in elegant script. She went and plopped into his lap, twining her arms around his neck. “Is that what you wrote, darling?” She showed him her card which did, indeed, have Nyx written on it.

“Ugh,” Nesta and Elain complained at the same time when the two began kissing. Cassian interrupted their moment with more crudeness.

“What?!” He asked with a laugh when she tossed her card at him. “We were losing anyway and these two—” He jerked his thumbs towards Rhys and Lucien –“Are being gross and sentimental. Is that what you want? Open, public displays of affection?”

“Were you not already?” Azriel asked with one arched brow. Nesta’s cheeks immediately reddened.

“What did you write?” Cassian demanded, picking up his card. His face softened at what he saw. “Oh Nes.”

“Oh no,” Azriel muttered when Nesta attacked Cassian’s mouth with her own. “Someone stop them.”

“Hey,” Lucien snapped next to Cassian’s ear. “Save that for later.”

“What did the card say?” Gwyn asked curiously. Nesta showed the red head her card, displaying my freedom to the room.

Lucien flipped his card quickly. “See, this is what I meant,” Cassian grumbled when Lucien revealed the word you to which Elain, beaming, revealed a second wrong answer.

“Did you really write Lucien’s best gift was the chicken you two share?” Arina asked with disbelief, looking at Elain’s card.

“Henrietta is our baby,” Elain protested. Lucien chuckled but did nothing to contradict her assertion.

“Alright Eris. What did Arina write?” Gwyn asked.

Eris had drawn a picture of what was clearly Arina in a crown. “My High Lady,” he crooned, his russet eyes filled with affection. Arina smiled, her card the same.

“It was a nice surprise,” she admitted.

“I can’t believe you two let Eris win,” Rhys chided Lucien and Elain, now sitting on the same side of the couch holding hands.

“You know, while all of you were fucking instead of getting to know each other, Arina and I spent vast amounts of time separated. We wrote letters,” Eris informed the room with just a touch of defense. Arina perched herself on the arm of the sofa Eris sat on, her hand resting on his shoulder. “I could tell you her whole routine since the moment she was bornuntil this morning.”

“I’d rather have done the fucking,” Cassian announced. Lucien choked on his whiskey as Rhys nodded in agreement. “We’ve got forever, I’m in no rush.”

“I’m boring, anyway,” Rhys added. Feyre elbowed him hard.

“This is not how I thought this was going to go,” Gwyn admitted. Azriel, his hands on her shoulders, was walking her to the half empty bottle of whiskey.

“At least we have alcohol to numb the pain,” Feyre joked. There were giggles in response.

At least they had each other.

#eluicen #eluicen prompt #some nessian #and a little feysand #the barest hint of gwynriel #no smut either #who have i become #i did think this was funny

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deadlymodern · 3 years

Text

*taps mic*

Umm, hello. Welcome to my presentation.

Hi! ✨

Since I'm rebranding and starting a new "volume" of my story, I decided to create a master recap for you lads. I think this was also a good moment to post this because I've received some new followers/readers that might be confused on what the fuck is happening.

Honestly, this was the only way I could make it work hfudihhiudf. Hope it was useful.

Obviously this recap doesn't have half the lore or depth you'd get from reading the whole story, but it should be enough to refresh your memory and/or for you to get into Where the Waves Crash without being clueless!

I'll place some links here, anyways, just in case someone is interested:

STORY'S MAIN PAGE | FULL STORY CHRONO | CHARACTER'S PAGE

✨ I'll also place a more complete written version of this recap with links to key chapters under the cut ✨

Thank you all for the support on the "rebrand", it really has made me feel even more inspired and motivated to continue with this hobby 🥺💙

BETHANY

Beth was born to a family of farmers in Brindleton, a coastal village in rural England.

She’d help around the farm and care for her two younger brothers, Edward and Matthew, while also attending school, by her mother's request.

At school, she became very close to her friend, Mary.

Her mother passed away during the birth of her youngest brother, Phillip. For that reason, her father, Edgar, pulled her out of school.

Mary would visit and sleep over often to keep her company.

As time passed, Beth realized she had romantic feelings for her friend. Even though they were reciprocated, Mary’d always push her away.

Before leaving to Finishing School, Mary accepted her feelings. The two girls began a romantic relationship.

While the girls were apart, Beth got to know William - a young man she met previously - better. They became good friends. She also developed a smoking habit through him.

Without her father’s approval, Beth attempted to get into the local College for a literature course, but failed her exam.

After a heated argument, Beth made a deal with her father to get married in exchange of permission to retake the exam and get a higher education.

While Mary was in Bridleton for the holidays, Beth officially proposed to her by giving her her later mother’s ring.

Beth kept writing weekly letters, but got confused and hurt when Mary suddenly stopped writing back.

Her father told her the truth about his nervousness in allowing her to pursue higher education, which made her feel even more emotionally trapped.

Adding up to it, her dear friend William asked for her hand in marriage, leaving her lonely and lost

Finally, she learnt about Mary’s engagement and reached a breaking point. Not enough to make her cry, but a breaking point nonetheless.

Beth is left unsure of what she will do with her life. She knows she has a choice to make, but she’d rather not have to make any decisions ever again.

MARY

Mary met Beth when they were 6 years old, on their way to school.

She was the one who instigated their first kiss. And their second. But also pushed her away once or twice due to fear.

She came to terms with her feelings before she left to Finishing School in Germany.

And kept in touch with Beth weekly through letters.

During her Winter break, Mary travelled back home. She then promised to leave everything behind and be with Beth once finished.

For that reason, Mary denied her suitor’s proposal.

Her father, Charles, became suspicious and found her exchanged letters, which led to him blackmailing Mary into becoming engaged.

Mary wrote a last letter to Beth explaining the situation, but it was intercepted by the School’s headmistress, by Charles’ request.

Believing that Beth is informed, Mary goes on with her parent’s preparations for her wedding and gets ready for her School graduation.

TIMOTHY

Tim had been a close acquaintance of Mary for years and was expected to become her husband one day.

He was told to propose to her. She denied him at first, but said yes the second time.

Tim mentioned a family holiday to Normouth in July, and Mary’s father took the opportunity to set a date and location to their wedding.

During his last month in town, Tim went to an exhibit where he saw Will and Beth. He, then, bought a Kodak from William’s father.

Tim is currently on his way to his family’s estate in Normouth for their holidays. Mary’s family is expected to join them in a couple of weeks.

WILLIAM

William met Beth during Mary’s 16th birthday ball.

He was the one who instigated her to pursue an higher education.

He is currently in a Business major at Battlemere College as a request from his father, but is truly passionate about film. Here & here.

Started to fall in love with Beth as their friendship grew. Here and here.

Which eventually led to him proposing to Beth.

William is yet to receive Beth’s answer, but is patiently waiting for it.

EDWARD

In childhood, Ned had a good relationship with his older sister.

They had a fall back once he announced he didn’t want a higher education.

Ned began noticing his sister’s suspicious behaviours, but always failed in an attempt to reconnect/get her to speak to him about it.

And, as time went by, the contrast between his and his siblings’ beliefs became more apparent.

Already suspicious of his sister’s relationship with Mary, Ned attempted to get on her good side by comforting her. Yet, it only pushed her away even more.

SUSANNA

Sue was a good friend of Beth’s, even though they’ve always had different opinions. It was through this friendship that Sue met Ned.

Sue and Ned weren’t very close in childhood. But they developed good communication and, eventually, fell in love.

They got engaged but were told to wait until Beth was wedded to be able to marry.

Even though the wedding was on stand-by, preparations were still being made.

After the Norman family’s horse passed away, Edward’s father decided to reconsider his decision and allowed Ned and Sue to set a date for the wedding so they could use Sue’s dowry to afford a new horse.

Sue is eagerly waiting for her dream Autumn wedding and her life alongside Ned and his family.

MATTHEW

Matt always felt different and distant from his family. He’s an introverted person, which made him very observant.

He started to notice how his sister was treated differently from their brothers.

Matt backed Beth up in every situation against their father’s conservative views and helped her keep herself educated, in case she’d retake her exam. Here and here

He had a brief relationship with a local girl named Charlotte.

But, a couple of years later, was spotted kissing a man by lake Battlemere - though people couldn’t identify him.

He kept pretending nothing happened, in an attempt to get things to normal, and eventually got accepted into the local College.

Finally, he told Beth the truth about his sexuality.

Matt is very excited to introduce his boyfriend to Beth and to finally move out of their farm.

PHILLIP & DOROTHY

Phillip’s mother died giving birth to him.

He found comfort getting involved with music from an early age. He later learnt it was a shared interest with his late mother.

In the music group, he met Dorothy, a young girl from Willow Creek, USA.

Beth helped him bake biscuits to Dottie in an attempt to make her feel a bit better after the pub incident.

Dorothy became friends with Phillip due to their common interest in music.

She Helped Phillip start getting some closure on the guilt he feels for his mothers death.

During a night out, Dottie was harassed by a man. Phillip tried defending her, but things couldn’t be fixed so simply. They talked about it as the encounter scared them both - on different levels.

At the moment, Flip and Dottie are very good friends. Flip is infatuated by her, but is trying to suppress it because he knows she is still overwhelmed by the pub incident. Dottie is concerned with her reputation around the village.

#wtwc #wtwc; recap #death tw #harrasment tw #smoking tw #long post tw

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littlemisspascal · 3 years

Text

The Last Mandalorian

Chapter One: The Warrior in Carbonite Part 2

Fandom: The Mandalorian / Pedro Pascal

Eventual Pairing: Din x Togruta!Female!Reader

Word Count: 3,400

Rating: G

Summary: A series that is a mixture of Mandalorian, Star Wars, ATLA, and my own imagination. The Imps have seized control of the majority of the galaxy, including your homeworld Shili. You and your sister Ahsoka have developed a daily routine despite the stormtroopers keeping your village imprisoned. One morning you make a startling discovery that will change the course of your lives forever.

Warnings: plot plot plot, mild descriptions of violence, worldbuilding, dialogue heavy, sloooooooooooooow burn – seriously, we’re just getting started so it’s gonna be a bit before feelings are involved, reader is 17 and Din is 19 so I’m going to warn this as underage even though nothing sexual or even vaguely romantic happens in this chapter.

Author Note: The plan right now is for there to be 3 parts of Chapter 1. Tumblr isn’t doing a good job notifying my taglist, so I apologize if I bother anyone reblogging this a few times trying to get it to work. Thank you everyone out there for each like, comment, ask and reblog! The support means the world to me 🥰

Part 1 Part 3

Cross-posted on AO3

The village is a small community with less than a hundred citizens living there total, yet it is visible from miles away due to the bright paints used to decorate the houses. Murals depicting the village’s history and its residents adorn every house with details added by each new generation so that no one is ever forgotten. Back when visitors would pass through, they would always compliment the village’s beauty, but there is nothing beautiful at all about the electric fence the Imps erected shortly after seizing control, emitting shocks harsh enough to kill.

Originally the stormtroopers said it was to protect the village from threats, but nobody believed the lie. The only threat to the community was the Empire. They don’t bother making up excuses anymore, now they like to remind everyone the whole village is their prisoner, usually by a show of violence so unbelievably malicious it stuns everyone into compliance.

There are some horrors time will never erase from your mind.

Juni trees grow beside the fence outside the perimeter, the only species of tree amongst the shrubbery and turu-grass, and they are tall enough for their thick orange branches to extend over the uppermost wire. In the mornings, Ahsoka climbs out your bedroom window, slides down the sloped roof of the house and leaps onto a nearby branch. You follow after her, trusting that she won’t let you fall when you stretch out your hand for her to catch you and lift you up using a bit of Force to give you a boost. The two of you sneak back inside the village using the same tree, only instead of leaping at the house, you drop the short fall onto the ground beneath. Five years and the stormtroopers haven’t caught onto your trick yet.

Except now the tree isn’t an option. Not when you both are half-carrying, half-dragging two-hundred pounds of flesh and metal.

Hiding behind a clump of coyal bushes, you and Ahsoka scout the entrance booth where a pair of stormtroopers dressed in their characteristic white armor stand guard, holding blaster rifles. There are others on patrol, walking along the fence and checking its integrity, gradually stepping further and further out of view, but they will be back eventually. Your window of opportunity is limited.

You adjust the warrior’s arm over your shoulders, quietly groaning when your muscles protest the heaviness. “What are we going to do? Stormies might share one brain cell, but they’re definitely going to notice this heap of metal we’re carrying. And as soon as they find out we don’t have passes, they’re going to start shooting.”

Passes are only given to a handful of the community’s traders each week. It is a three day ride on a repulsorlift speeder to the capital where they have a short span of time to sell their goods and then return home within the week with essential supplies. To ensure no one tries to run away, the Imps set up strict rules. If the traders are late, even if only by a few minutes or due to reasons outside their control, the rest of the villagers pay the price. Usually the punishment is a public beating, but sometimes the stormtroopers get creative and tie their chosen victims to a pole overnight by their head-tails.

Nobody, not even the younglings, sleep those nights.

“We’ll be fine,” Ahsoka answers, firm and confident, gaze fixed upon the gate. “Just follow my lead. I’ve got an idea.”

She doesn’t spare you a second to protest, stepping out into the open and forcing you to follow or else drop the warrior’s body.

The stormtroopers spot the three of you immediately, relaxed postures stiffening with alarm, and you have to remind yourself over and over to breathe, to not let them see any hint of the anxiety buzzing beneath your skin.

“Hold it right there!” One of the stormtroopers orders when the distance between you and them has shortened to a mere three feet. You freeze at once, heart pounding as fast as a thimiar’s seconds away from being eaten. A quick glance at Ahsoka reveals no fear in her expression. She stares at them indifferently, as if she is about to talk about the weather.

“Explain yourselves.” It is not a request.

You squirm, nearly knocking your head against the warrior’s bowed head, on the verge of losing your composure, when you notice Ahsoka lifting her arm.

“You will let us pass,” she says, adopting a suggestive tone while waving her hand in front of their visors.

They respond in unison, seemingly entranced. “We will let you pass.”

You bite your lip as you and Ahsoka pass between the stormtroopers and through the gate, not wanting to break the spell by letting loose the barrage of questions forming on your tongue. What your sister had done was as amazing as it was frightening. She had manipulated them with such confident ease you are certain this isn’t the first time she has performed the trick on someone.

“When did Aunt Shaak teach you that?”

“She didn’t,” Ahsoka replies lowly, casting a quick glance around. “I taught myself.”

Your skin prickles as you also become aware of the increasing number of eyes staring at you. With the sun fully awake and bringing morning light with it, several villagers are carrying on with their daily routines outside of their homes. Most of them seem a mixture of confused and concerned about the stranger, but you spy the Elders looking displeased by the new addition amongst their ranks.

You are not looking forward to being inevitably summoned and interrogated by them.

“How?” you ask, copying her hushed cadence. Then, a pulse of panic blooms in your chest. “Have you ever—?”

“No, I haven’t messed with your mind before. Never even considered it,” Ahsoka interrupts, sensing your worries. “I don’t practice often, but when I do it’s just harmless little suggestions. Like convincing Huno to give the younglings an extra sugar biscuit when he has some to spare or persuading Jaelee to go to bed early when I know she’s been overworking herself. To tell you the truth, I wasn’t really sure the trick would work on those bucket heads since I’ve never tried it on two minds at once before. Lucky us, right?”

You nearly trip over your own feet. “What?”

Is she being serious right now? They would be dead right now if her gamble hadn’t paid off.

Ahsoka pretends not to hear you, nodding her head towards the blue-painted house up ahead. “C’mon, Maar probably already knows we’re coming.”

Maar Vashee has been the village’s healer for a little over fifty years. The purple-skinned Togruta helped deliver you and Ahsoka, and was considered by your mother when she was still living to be a dear friend. Her connection to the Force is especially sensitive due to her intricate relationship with the flora of the planet, using various herbs and plants to create remedies, and as such she developed a type of sixth sense where she instinctively knows when her skills are needed.

Entering her home that doubles as her clinic, you find Maar had indeed anticipated your arrival and set up a cot to place the warrior upon. Once he is laid down, you roll your aching shoulders, biting back a wince as the movement irritates the headache lingering at the back of your head.

The warrior hadn’t made one noise the entirety of the trip bringing him here. Even now as he rests on the cot, his breaths are so quiet you would fear he wasn’t breathing at all if not for his chest moving. You touch his hand impulsively, laying yours over his gloved one. There is no response, not a twitch or spasm.

A sharp gasp of surprise has you whirling around, eyes landing upon Maar standing in the doorway between the clinic and her living quarters. She clutches a glass jar of spotted red herbs labeled nysillin against her chest, staring at the warrior like she is looking at a ghost.

“Maar,” Ahsoka calls out softly, coming to stand by your side. A long moment of silence passes before the older Togruta manages to drag her gaze away to focus on you and Ahsoka, green eyes a bit too wide-eyed and haunted. Your sister’s gentle tone remains when she inquires, “What’s wrong? Do you...do you know him?”

Maar chokes out a brittle noise sounding like a cross between a dry laugh and a derisive scoff. “Personally? No.” She moves closer to the cot, the white circular markings around her eyes softening with what you confusingly identify as sympathy. “I’ve heard stories of his kind though. Years ago, many considered the Mandalorians the only ones capable of defeating the Imperials.”

“Holy frak,” you gasp before you can stop yourself.

As a youngling, your mother used to tell you stories about the fiercest fighters in the galaxy known as Mandalorians. They lived on Mandalore and had a special connection with their weapons, a bond nobody else could understand or mimic, trained to handle guns and knives as soon as they could walk. They defended the galaxy from unlawful rulers and the threat of enslavement, unafraid to spill blood when they knew peace would follow. Your mother told you they never lost a battle. Defeat was a word unknown to them.

At least until—

“Mandalorians were wiped out during the Decimation of Alderaan,” Ahsoka interrupts your thoughts, voice pitched high with disbelief. “And the few who lived were hunted down shortly after. The Imps made sure there weren’t any left to challenge them.”

As if triggered, you recall a detail from your brain glitch, a thought that had crossed your mind when you were flying through the storm. You had been looking for Aldera, the capital of Alderaan.

It’s just a coincidence, you think. But a voice in the back of your head that sounds suspiciously like your Aunt Shaak counters, there are no coincidences.

And as much as you loathe admitting it, that voice is right. Having the image of a mudhorn slip into your brain shortly before you find a warrior—no, a karking Mandalorian of all people—with the same creature on his armor? It is too precise to be a coincidence. Your paths were meant to cross each other.

If only you had the slightest clue as to why.

Maar sets the jar down on a nearby table, then picks up the Mandalorian’s wrist to check his pulse. “That is what we all thought,” she agrees after a minute of counting has passed, dropping his hand. “His armor is characteristic of their kind. Nothing in the galaxy is as strong or valuable as their beskar. Let’s pray to Ai our beliefs about the Mandalorians’ extinction are mistaken,” she nods towards the unconscious warrior, “especially for his sake.”

Realization creates a sickening pit in your stomach.

Regardless of the status of his kind, when he wakes up his whole world is going to be flipped upside down.

Three hours later, not much has changed except the room is brighter, afternoon sunlight pouring in through the window, and smells sweet due to the bowl of herbs Maar left simmering on the table near the Mandalorian’s head, explaining the aroma will cure him of his hibernation sickness as he breathes it in.

“He’ll wake up when the marg sabls open tomorrow,” Maar told you with a gesture towards the potted red-and-pink flowers in the windowsill. They grow all over Shili, popular because they open their petals in a sunburst shape every morning.

Ahsoka comes and goes, blessedly not criticizing your decision to sit at the warrior’s bedside when you have a list of chores to complete—doubled now that you lost your bet with Ahsoka earlier. She intercepts curious younglings hoping to sneak a glimpse of the Mandalorian whose presence has become known throughout the village. Nothing stays a secret long in the community. Gossip spreads as quickly as colds and takes twice as long to get over.

If the stormtroopers catch on, the consequences will be disastrous. For once, Ahsoka shares your fears, admitting she isn’t capable of tricking a whole platoon.

“The Elders aren’t happy,” Ahsoka says in-between sips of bone broth. “They think it’s too dangerous having him here.”

You swallow your mouthful, shaking your head. “I think it’s the opposite.”

“What do you mean?”

Averting your gaze towards your lap, you scratch at an imaginary stain on your leggings. “Just a feeling I have.”

Ahsoka leans forward in her seat, pointing an accusing finger at you, causing your head to jerk back up. “The Force connected with you again, didn’t it? I knew you were acting weird before we found him.” She frowns, hurt flickering in her eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I never wanted to be special, Ahsoka,” you reply honestly. “I never wished or prayed to have visions, to have these random details pop into my head, to feel others’ emotions so strongly it’s like I’m trapped inside their bodies. There is nothing cool or entertaining about it. It’s…” Your voice cracks embarrassingly, forcing you to take a pause. You inhale a shaky breath. “It’s terrifying.”

“I had no idea you were struggling so much,” your sister murmurs, voice soft with contrition.

“How could you when I didn’t even want myself to acknowledge that I was?” you counter, feeling as if a weight has been lifted from your shoulders as the truth sinks in. “I tried to ignore it all as best as I could. If not for meeting our friend over here,” you tilt your head in the Mandalorian’s direction, “I’d probably still be in denial. But I can’t ignore the Force this time. Not when the message is this important.”

“What is it?”

“We were meant to find him. To bring him back with us. I think—I believe he’s important. Remember what Maar said? About how people used to believe Mandalorians would beat the Empire?”

Ahsoka’s brow furrows incredulously. “You really think one warrior can defeat Emperor Gideon’s army? The rebels have been trying for years and the Emperor is always one step ahead.”

You can’t help deflating a bit, shoulders slumping. “Well when you put it like that…”

“Have you considered an alternative reason why he’s important?” she asks. When you don’t answer right away, she takes it as a cue to continue, “Maybe you’re right and he is going to change the galaxy for the better. But he could also be a warning. The Imps wiped out his kind, what if they plan to do the same to us?”

Your lips part to respond, only to close again wordlessly. You thought by accepting your brain glitches as messages from the Force they would become clearer, easier to understand. A lantern guiding you through this maze of darkness epitomizing your life.

But you have never felt more lost.

Falling asleep is a mistake.

You didn’t know this when you rejected Maar’s suggestion to head home and sleep in your comfortable bed instead of curling up on her spare cot that squeaks whenever you move. The prideful side of you believed it was best if you were the first face the Mandalorian saw when he woke up because he would remember you and the promise you swore. He would trust you to explain everything to him.

Within a second of waking up, you realize how naive you were to think you had even a shred of influence over him.

The sound of something shattering has you nearly tumbling off the side of the cot, jerking awake with a sudden burst of fear. You blink rapidly to clear the haziness of sleep from your vision, struggling to make sense of what you are seeing.

Pieces of Maar’s ceramic bowl litter the floor along with bits of charcoal and ash. Ahsoka and the Mandalorian stand on opposite sides of the room, staring each other down, poised to fight. The Mandalorian has a vibroblade clenched in his hand, while your sister crouches low, fists raised. You know Ahsoka can hold her own in a fight, even without the advantage of a weapon, but fear winds its way down your spine, cold and slimy, when you can’t help but notice how small she looks compared to him. Not only because he is a few inches taller, but because he also exudes an undeniable aura of intimidation: his unwavering silence, the skilled manner he wields his knife, even the sharp gleam of his beskar pieces reflecting the pale morning light has your chest tightening with dread.

The clinic’s lights flick on right as Maar announces her presence by cocking a blaster pistol. It is the Mandalorian’s own weapon, removed from his holster when Maar examined him earlier. “Alright,” she says to the room at large as she fully enters, dressed in her sleeping robe. “Let’s all settle down. Blood isn’t an easy stain to clean and I’d prefer it if none was spilt.”

You see the moment the Mandalorian decides to comply, shoulders loosening beneath the pauldrons and stance shifting from defensive to neutral, as he processes he doesn’t need to fight his way out of here. The vibroblade is sheathed within his right boot in one fluid motion and it is startling, truly, how quick he transforms from a dangerous threat to a potentially dangerous threat.

Ahsoka is reluctant to yield, staring him up and down for a drawn out moment that does little to soothe your frayed nerves. Only when Maar pointedly clears her throat does your sister finally obey, straightening to full height with a hand propped on her hip, the picture perfect image of nonchalance. In another life she would have made a fantastic actress in a holovid drama.

“That’s better.” Maar nods, satisfied. “Now why don’t we—”

The Mandalorian moves so quickly that you jerk in anticipation of attack, eyes widening to the size of moons as you watch the pistol fly out of Maar’s hand and straight into his outstretched one. Your lungs seize up, a single thought flashing through your mind. This is it, the moment we all die.

Except instead of shooting, he re-engages the safety mechanism and promptly holsters the gun at his side where it belonged. Without saying anything.

Ahsoka’s slack-jawed expression would have been comical if it hadn’t matched your own stunned face. Even Maar, who has witnessed over fifty years worth of shocking spectacles, looks awed by the unexpected display.

You recover first, somehow managing to piece together the right words to ask a coherent question. “Are you a Jedi?”

It is only because you are staring directly at him that you notice the virtually imperceptible tilting of his head. “I’m a Mandalorian,” he answers bluntly, oblivious to how your heart skips a beat. “Weapons are part of my religion. It’s important to earn their trust.” He addresses Maar then, adding, “Especially if they’re stolen from us.”

His baritone voice has changed from when he spoke on the ship. Without the exhaustion wrapped around his vocal chords you are able to hear his normal timbre. Due to the modulator in his helmet, it has a husky quality, an intriguing mix of smoke and honey. But that is not what has your montrals prickling and your spine straightening.

“I disarm all my patients,” Maar replies, back to being her cool, calm, and collected self. “I would have given it back—”

“How old are you?”

You don’t realize you have spoken until two pairs of eyes and an expressionless visor look at you.

The Mandalorian’s fingers curl and uncurl at his sides once, twice. “Nineteen,” he answers after a few seconds of lapsing silence.

“Oh Ai,” Maar murmurs, vocalizing your own thoughts.

All this time you have been thinking of the Mandalorian as a man beneath the amor. A hardened and seasoned fighter who has seen a lifetime of bloodshed and violence. But the reality is he is only two years older than you. Standing right on that thin, blurry line between being seen as a teenager and being considered an adult.

“Who are you?” the Mandalorian asks, glancing first at you then your sister and back to Maar. Frustration and wariness blend together, sharpening his voice. “Why am I here? What happened?”

Ahsoka meets your eye with a question in her gaze, one you don’t have the answer for: where do we even begin?

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