#GOD I very obviously found a new pen half way through drawing this

[emmfairy]

My husband’s character, Lupin the dawngreeter, was very unsettled to wake up in Barovia last session.

[whilmsy]

5LLSMP Session 2 Summary :D

this is very long i hope i left nothing out but i simply post it and pray <3 - The sillies had been separated in the beginning due to last session, but I was with Elle and Space in the beginning - though was leaving to go get find Brandy. It was at this moment that Ed (Iron Guy 1/2) was accidentally killed by Elle, and i think killed by Ed out of spite (/j, not out of spite, accidental death part 2 electric boogaloo). Elle, brandy and I were able to meet up again after the deaths, and we wondered around for a bit: collecting seeds to make a farm for our group and also getting parrots!! I named mine Squidge <3

After that, the first half of it was really just the sillies attempting to create a farm, it was mostly a lot of just talking and stuff, not doing much. Phil died and went to yellow, he joined us in our bunker and we talked (I cannot remember about what though.) That’s when I noticed Ed in our little chicken hole, and realised our chickens were either dead or stolen (both, because there were feathers on the floor? I don’t knoendunsudn) so I asked gore about it, and follow the tunnel that’s appeared in front of me. It was confusing because I believed we were allies (think of this all lore dramatic and stuff) and would’ve happily given some chickens to allies, but alas /lhj I followed the tunnel down first, and everyone else followed behind. Ed was trying to keep me away, I think trying to hunt me down, but I just kept going. Low and behold, I found the iron guys base from the tunnel, and also chickens in a pen. After that fiasco, Phil went back to the lads and the sillies went off - discussing plans of new bases and bunkers, because two groups now knew where our place was, and we didn’t want to risk getting stolen from again. We packed up all we could, took down the farm, and ventured into the desert. Night fell, and we constructed a terrible (/aff) cobble, dirt, and wood home in the desert. It had a furnace in the ceiling. I went into a corner, was boxed in, and we proceeded to start a bit about bamboo being enrichment (this will stick around).

We adventured through the desert. Space died on the second night after promptly saying “I will face my fear of husks!” Xe died not even a second later in front of us. We then left the desert to spawn to reunite with space. I was too fast, accidentally leaving Brandy and Elle behind, and found space - we both then also met The Lads of The Valley. Stiff had died after Phil had. Phil was setting trees on fire, moth handed me a flint and steel which i handed to space. Space proceeded to set themself and everything else around on fire and also lost the flint and steel. We were about to part ways from them, but all went the same way, met up with brandy and Elle and that’s when the lads discovered that Zera and Jay were possibly at their base, and so the lads invited the sillies along and we followed. Me and Bee got to stand together and become side-eye duo <3 This is where it’s harder to remember exactly what happened, but Melou was killed by stiff after showing up, me and moth have endeavoured into a homoerotic relationship in which i gave joked about being god (because he could not see who was talking to him), and that proceeded to stick, and so it’s like. Yeah there’s something there. I gave moth a cornflower (“too match your name,” I said, because it was blue). As this was happening, Brandy was killed by Stiff at their own wedding - true love means giving your life, i guess. -

Me and Stiff had a conversation that also had Something there: in this conversation, at the lads of the valley base, I’d been close to stiff on the cliff side area. and. and stiff very much obviously wanted to draw more blood. offered to take me down to red. I’m so upset because i can’t remember the wording specifically over anything we said, but i do remember saying something like “you don’t have to kill me yet, let’s wait it out, you don’t need to kill me yet.” After a bit, I then saw Zera again, hiding in the distance and went to talk to him at the wall. When everyone started leaving (at some point space had left earlier, and brandy wasn’t there because of the death), and so me and Elle finally left, but I waited at spawn to talk with Five after we’d been messaging to meet up and discuss things, and the session ended.

[starglow-xx]

(About the brother!atsushi) aRE YOU READING MY MIND MISS?! Because that has been on my mind for MONTHS. TYSM For writing it was amazing!! If you don't mind, may I request (if requests are open) atsushi, still an older brother, but with a sister that's 10-13 yrs old? It's totally fine if you don't wanna do it. Keep up the good stories, ily mwuah!

*sobs* you’re so kind thank youu 🤧🤧

i wrote this a bit differently i hope that’s okay anon! at first i planned for this to be mainly abt atsushi and the reader, but i decided to add in relationship hcs with the agency bc i ran out of ideas

if you guys liked this don’t worry! im planning a special part two for this one so be the look out for it hehe

atsushi with a tween! sister

ft. the armed detective agency

like in my baby sister hcs, you’re still the most important thing to him period

the two of you got picked up by dazai and kunikida when he was 18 (obviously) and when you were 12

for a 12 year old, you were a bit small bc of malnourishment (which makes atsushi feel so bad) so both dazai and kunikida thought you were a bit younger than you actually were

they assumed you were about 9-10ish

you and atsushi both share a favorite food !! chazuke :)

so when kunikida treated the two of you, he made sure you got more bowls bc like i mentioned above, he feels really bad that you were malnourished and under weight

(don’t bring this up but kunikida felt bad too hehe)

when dazai went with your brother to the warehouse, you were with kunikida

imagine the surprise of the other ada members when kunikida came in with a little girl dressed in rags that popped out from behind him

kenji was the one who vocalized his thoughts 

“kunikida-san you have a daughter?! wow! i didn’t know that! :D”

when you found out your brother was a tiger, you were a bit concerned but you were actually kind of excited

you were even more excited when you found out the two of you were going to be taken in by the agency

anything was better than the stupid orphanage

and besides!

you got a tiger for an older brother and a bunch of other super powered agents to take care of you! who could want anything else?

at your age, you’re very impressionable and can be influenced easily so atsushi makes sure to teach you more in depth of good morals and the importance of kindness

his heart swells with pride and relief when he catches you being kind to others

pride bc he’s proud that even after all the two of you have gone through, you still ended up being a good kid and having a bright view of the world

and relief bc he hasn’t failed as a big brother

pfftt like he could ever fail

but please, from time to time reassure him that he’s perfect and the only big brother that you’d ever want bc he rlly needs that kind of validation

with his salary and savings, he tries to buy nice things for you

what a sweetheart 🥺

he saw you eyeing that one dress at a store window? fast forward abt a week and half and it’s inside a pretty gift bag for you

you wanted to try that dessert from the nice bakery? that’s dessert after dinner at one point

but other than buying you things, he sets money aside for you

like all the time

(y/n), here have this, you might need it”

“but nii-san you just gave me—”

“take it”

#1 spoiler

also your #1 confidant and source of physical affection

you tell him anything and everything (except crushies and those kinds of things)

atsushi loves it when you talk abt your day and he can see the big smile on your face and the sparkle in your eyes

it gives him the strength to keep going 😖😖

the two of you aren’t as touch starved as you’d probably think, but that’s only bc the two of you had each other

in your opinion, no one can match the hugs of your big brother

and it got even better bc YAYY he has tiger arms now ٩(◕‿◕)۶

if you ask, he’d carry you around too hehe

you also get nightmares quite often so he’ll always be there ready to calm you down, talk if you need to, and rock you back to sleep

god i love him 🤧🤧

atsushi will do everything in his power to protect you and make sure you get to grow up happy, supported, and loved

port mafia attack? oop he’s already taking you to the nearest escape route

someone is starting to harass you? they just got suckered punched into the next week

you want to go out to have some fun? he’ll go ask the president for a day off

you’re not feeling well? he’ll take another day off and take care of you

whatever you want to do, he’ll do it with you! (as long as it’s within reason)

will always be your #1 supporter! and he’s the president of your fan club hehe

he loves you so so much and will do anything for you; your life and happiness will always be more important to him

you are his reason to keep going

agency head canons !!

atsushi is your big brother, but kunikida is most definitely some sort of father figure

everyone can see it

except kunikida of course

kunikida scolds you lightly if he thinks your manners need work or if you make a mess in the agency

you listen to him of course and in turn as some sort of a reward, he’ll give you pieces of stationary

he always gives you the nice, good quality kind and you’re over the moon

atsushi adores it when you come running to him showing your new notebook or fountain pen and blabbering what you’re going to do with it

sometimes it isn’t even as a reward for being a good child; he’ll just give it to you and he’ll say smth like “i noticed you’ve used up your last notebook quite quickly, so here’s another one” or “did you run out of ink? here have this then”

he usually has a soft spot for children in general, but he most definitely has a soft spot (or a thousand) for you

yosano is kind of like a motherly figure to you

she gives you the guidance a mother should and goes on shopping trips with you!

atsushi always gets dragged along by you, but he thinks it’s worth it seeing you look so happy

yosano being a doctor also tries to teach the things you should know, or things that would be helpful to you

she’ll teach you the basics of cooking, sewing, how to treat a cold/fever, etc

also gives you excellent advice 1000% of the time

“remember (y/n)-chan if someone hurts you come tell me and then i’ll chop them into—”

“yOSANO-SENSEI DONT TELL HER THAT—”

fukuzawa is like a father to most in the agency but you see him more as a grandfather figure

bi weekly tea and gossip sessions hehe

along with cat talk!

most of the time though, it’s just you talking and him listening to you, but the two of you enjoy it nonetheless

“and then kunikida-san ended up crashing into a pole and dazai-san started to laugh at him and i did too because it was really funny but we ended up getting scolded—”

“hmm i see...”

he’ll let you stay in his office as he fills out paperwork; you’re usually doodling or drawing in your notebooks

sometimes he’ll meditate and you’ll join him, but 4/7 times you’d fall asleep

you always wake up with a blanket over you

dazai is like a cool but a highly concerning and kind of high maintenance uncle

frequently takes you out with him when he ditches work

walks in the park, eating at uzumaki so he has the excuse of treating you so he doesn’t have to pay his tab avoiding kunikida and sometimes chuuya and akutagawa, all that fun stuff

also tries to not talk abt suicide in front of you especially if it’s just the two of you alone

he knows that you mean the world to his pupil and that said pupil would probably hate him for putting suicide inside your brain

he teaches you random but useful things like how to pick a lock, how to steal kunikida’s notebook if you’re looking for some information, how to sweet talk your way out of things, etc.

is also the one to tell you that if you ever get a significant other to introduce them to the agency first

he always wants all of your gossip; some of them work pretty well for blackmail

“dazai-san! dazai-san! did you know that kunikida-san lost his glasses and he was looking for them for nearly an hour when he was just holding them the entire time??”

“woah really (y/n)-chan?! hey hey can you say it again into this recording device so kunikida-kun would believe me when i tell him—”

always ends up giving kunikida a heart attack when he says that you’ve been with him all day

ranpo is also like a cool but a highly concerning and kind of high maintenance uncle

will share some of his snacks, but don’t push it or you might not get anything at all

loves it when you compliment him

if you tagged along with him and your brother on a case, he will show off to impress you

“...and that’s how the crime happened”

“UWAHH RANPO-SAN YOU’RE SO COOL”

atsushi is lowkey and kunikida is highkey stressed that ranpo’s eating habits will rub off on you

“ne (y/n)-chan do you wanna try this highly caffeinated drink and this concerning amount of sugar filled snack?”

“can i really?!”

“rANPO-SAN NO—”

ranpo definitely does stuff like that on purpose 

the tanizakis are like siblings to you!

a weird set of siblings but siblings nonetheless

the two of them adore you and think you’re precious

atsushi definitely knows how to do your hair whether it’s long or short but he got even better at it when he asked the two

hehe braid trains are definitely a thing + kyouka and kenji (and maybe even dazai)

sometimes you have sibling swap days

you’re with junichiro for most of the day and atsushi is with naomi

strange i know

each of the tanizaki siblings try to make it fun bc they know that the two of you did not at all have a happy upbringing

junichiro likes spending time with you by taking you out to different places that naomi likes to frequent

like the mall, different stores and restaurants, the park, places like those

naomi does the same thing with atsushi so if you ever bump into them, you go out and eat together :)

besides atsushi, the next one in line who spoils you the most would be junichiro (and yosano & kunikida both coming in at a close third)

he honestly can’t help it; you remind him of how naomi was when she was younger

and besides

he’s always been a sucker when it came to the happiness of a little sister

“would you really buy this for me junichiro-san?!”

“of course! don’t worry about it” :)

wanna talk abt boys/girls/celebrity crushes things like that? naomi is your girl

you feel a bit embarrassed to go talking to yosano or your brother abt that and kyouka does not know a thing abt them either

“uwahh naomi-san look at all these people in this magazine! they look so good!”

“right?! but of course onii-sama is still the best—”

you get along with kenji and kyouka quite nicely being roughly the same age as them; they’re also like siblings!

just pure, wholesome vibes from the three of you

you’re over the moon when she finds out that kyouka is staying with you and your brother

atsushi is twice as happy seeing you talk your mouth off and finally having a girl around your age to talk to

“do you think demon snow can change how she looks?”

“hmm... im not sure...”

you and kenji talk abt anything and everything

he even teaches you how to take care of plants!

sometimes the two of you are kind of in the same boat bc you don’t know much abt yokohoma being stuck in the orphanage and kenji doesn’t know much abt cities in general

“wait where are we again kenji-san?”

“ah we’re close to the ports! but im not really sure how close because i don’t know what the symbols on this sign mean”

“don’t worry! neither do i!”

bonus things!

yosano was kind of too late teaching you abt you know what

“NII-SAN IM BLEEDING IN BETWEEN MY LEGS”

you’re sobbing in the agency’s bathroom and atsushi is panicking trying to get you to open the door

“Y/N?! H-HOLD ON LET ME GET YOSANO SENSEI”

ranpo overhears and cackles making everyone around him confused

suddenly atsushi bursts in the agency basically on the verge of tears rambling incoherent sentences abt the bathroom, you, and blood

it just clicked for everybody in the room

(im going to pretend that kenji has sisters back home so that atsushi is the only one who remain oblivious here hehe)

atsushi is genuinely confused and sort of concerned that no one is freaking out with him

yosano waves her hand saying smth like that she’d take care of it and junichiro pulls atsushi to the side to talk to him

fast forward like half and hour and dazai and ranpo are cackling on the looks of both of your faces

honestly not sure who’s more traumatized, you or your brother

“why does this have to happen” :(

“ne ne (y/n)-chan!~ you’re too young but at some point you’re not going to have it!”

“uwahh really dazai-san?” :D

“yeah! but first you have to have ANFK—”

next thing you know your ears are being covered by your brother and dazai is thrown across the room by kunikida

you know

the normal

you’re twelve and have never gone to school, but the agency takes care of that

it’s too dangerous to go to school so they teach you what’s necessary and whatever else they can

kunikida takes care of math (obviously)

yosano takes care of science/biology/anatomy/health (whatever you wanna call it)

ranpo even dragged poe to help you with english

atsushi even got lucy to help you out with english too!

as tanizaki and naomi used to be students, they give you their old work books and they try to teach you all the other subjects

sometimes kyouka and kenji are there learing with you too!

sorry if there’s some errors! i’ll read through it again later :)

and as always, reblogs and shares are appreciated! i hope you all stay safe! and just in case nobody told you they loved you today, i love you! you are enough! <3

writing belongs to me! please do not plagiarize! the reblog button is there for a reason

[quokkacore]

mojave, mo’problems (m)

summary: throughout your life, you’d been told that a life of crime was the loneliest of all. now, however, your boyfriends, johnny and jaehyun, a pair of bank robbers, and you, their getaway driver, beg to differ.

pairing: seo johnny x jeong jaehyun x fem reader

genre: SMUT, fluff, minor angst, found family, criminals!au

warnings: poly relationship, language, guns, mentions of cops (acab!!!), armed robbery, mentioned physical, mental and emotional abuse, reader, johnny and jaehyun are from broken homes, mentioned alcohol abuse, overuse of pet names :’), unprotected sex (dont be silly wrap ur willy!!), JAEHYUN HAS NIPPLE PIERCINGS, minor daddy kink? its used like,, once, dirty talk, threesome, boyxboy, soft dom johnny switch jaehyun, sub reader, hair pulling, slight overstimulation, orgasm denial, spitroasting, praise kink, size kink, mentions of double penetration, blowjobs, cunnilingus, general filth

song recs: stevie nicks & don henley - leather & lace ♡ nct 127 - fly away with me ♡ lana del rey - national anthem ♡ triple h - retro future

word count: 9.4k

a/n: this was originally uploaded to my old writing blog on july 22nd, 2020. there were a few things in the original a/n that i wanted to keep. one, due to how multicultural los angeles is, i imagine the reader being latina or bipoc, but i make no mention of skin color!! two, i blame the w korea johnjae photoshoot for this. the room they were shooting in and the hawaiian shirts totally gave me desert motel vibes. and finally, pls stay safe, wash ur hands, and pls keep urself informed on current issues with resources like this carrd. <3

Burbank, Los Angeles, California, 12:22 PM

“You both remember the plan, right?"

"Yeah, John.”

“Oh my god, Johnny, we went over the plan seven times last night and twice on the way here. We know what to do.”

Johnny huffed, staring pointedly at you before rolling his eyes.

“…Fine. We’ll take less than fifteen minutes, okay? You know what to do, smart girl."

You looked at Johnny, who was sitting shotgun next to you, as his hand came up to touch the back of your head, gaze warm.

"Be careful,” You said, eyes moving to the rearview mirror, where you met Jaehyun’s eyes, “Both of you.”

Jaehyun nodded, his hand coming up to cover Johnny’s. “We will be. You be careful too, baby.”

You mirrored his action, nodding, and watched as they got out of the car to walk one block down to the bank. You watched them until they disappeared from sight, drumming your fingers on the steering wheel to calm your nerves. You were grateful Johnny had chosen this quiet, relatively empty street to wait on, avoiding calling attention to yourself.

Even after two years of doing this, it still made you nervous to wait for their signal to drive up to the front with your face mask on. One of the two burner phones you’d acquired a week prior was burning a hole in your pocket, the other tucked safely into Jaehyun’s.

You let out a deep breath, letting your eyes close for a moment, briefly thinking back to the first time you’d met them. You were nineteen, Jaehyun was twenty-one, and Johnny twenty-three.

Downtown, Los Angeles, California 3:48 AM

Two years ago, you had been working a shitty job at an old 50s style diner in the more dangerous side of LA to scrounge up enough money to run away from a less-than-ideal home life. The only noise of the diner, coming from the old jukebox in the corner crooning out some old Stevie Nicks song, was broken up by two tall, handsome men entering and sitting at a booth from across each other. You were immediately wary of them. They were obviously trying not to draw attention to themselves, but it was a bit difficult with their statures and hunched backs, leaning close to each other and whispering in rushed tones.

Still, after gathering your pen and notepad, and grabbing a pair of menus, you approached the table, doing your best to put on a customer service smile despite your feet aching and head pounding from your exhaustion.

“Welcome to Ernie’s. Can I get you boys anything?” You asked quietly, setting down the menus on the table. The two men exchanged glances, before the taller one spoke.

“For now, two black coffees would be great—”

“Actually, can I get a burger with some fries?”

Your eyes darted to the shorter one, who was sporting a small, friendly smile as he fiddled with the menu.

You nodded, pulling out the notepad to write down the order. “Do you still want both coffees, or…?”

“Uhh, sure. Why not, we could use the caffeine.” He chuckled softly, and your smile got bigger at the pleasant noise. Even through the early morning hour daze, you could pick up on his charm from miles away.

“Sure thing, I can bring you guys the coffee right now, but your burger and fries might take a little bit. Anything else I can get you?”

The taller man on your left gazed up at you with wide brown eyes rimmed with dark circles underneath, totally devoid of any emotion. “We’re good, thanks.”

As you approached the kitchen window to hand the cook the order, you were able to pick up on a few not so subtle murmurs.

“Why are you in such a good mood, Jaehyun? It’s three in the morning, Yuta bailed on us and the shipment is coming in four days and we don’t even have half of a plan.”

Pouring the coffee as quietly as you could, you strained your ears to listen. Maybe if you hadn’t been so exhausted, you wouldn’t have eavesdropped, but you’d been working since 10 PM. Your head hurt, your feet ached, and you were in the mood for some entertainment, and now your curiosity had been piqued.

“Babe, calm down. I told you I have another guy who could work as our getaway driver—”

“I wouldn’t get into another car with Yangyang behind the wheel if I were covered in full fucking body armor. And I’m sure as hell not letting him be our getaway driver!” As you set the old white mugs on your serving tray, your breath hitched at his agitated whisper.

Getaway driver?

“We’re robbing a bank for Christ’s sake, Jae, not playing bumper cars.”

As you turned to face the two from behind the counter, they immediately tensed. You pretended not to have heard anything, flashing them an innocent smile as you cautiously set the mugs down on the table.

“You’re lucky I made a new pot a half hour ago! Not too hot, but not super cold either.”

The man on the right, who you now knew was named Jaehyun, had tried his best to put on his first smile, but it wasn’t working too well. It looked slightly too forced, too tight-lipped to be believable. “Thank you…” He said through somewhat gritted teeth, briefly glancing at your nametag, “…Y/N.”

“You’re very welcome,” You replied, tempted to know what would happen if you added on his name since you’d only heard it while eavesdropping, but quickly decided against it.

“If you need anything else, don’t be afraid to let me know.”

You quickly headed back to the counter, pretending to mind your business as you wiped down the counter. They murmured to each other about needing a fast driver, and the taller, stricter man, who you soon learned was named Johnny, was grumbling about needing someone able to drive as fast as this Yuta guy or even faster.

You remained silent, but all too pensive over the tempting ideas popping into your head upon hearing about their predicament.

All too soon, Jaehyun’s food was ready, and you brought it over, an innocent smile plastered once more over your face as you set it down, but said nothing when you straightened yourself. Unmoving, you met Jaehyun’s eyes. His dark eyes looked slightly alarmed, gaze darting between yours and Johnny’s.

“You know,” You hummed, after taking a deep breath, “For two people planning a crime, you’re both incredibly stupid. You do realize I heard basically everything, right?”

The two men stiffened again, momentarily panicking as they locked eyes, but that quickly melted into confusion when you giggled at their reactions.

“That being said, you’re also both incredibly lucky that Doug, the cook, is a ‘Nam veteran who can’t hear out of his left ear, and that I am a very fast driver who is in desperate need of some good cash.”

Johnny’s eyes were unreadable. “You. A waitress. A fast driver.” His teeth were gritted, and his tone agitated.

“I hate to toot my own horn,” You sighed sarcastically, unsure where your sudden confidence was coming from, “But I know what I’m talking about. I grew up around cars. Both of my parents are mechanics. I practically grew up in their garage. I have some older cousins who drag race on the weekends and taught me how to. I drove my first car when I was like, twelve.”

“What if we say no?” Jaehyun asked, eyes now void of any friendliness, “What then?”

You held up your phone, which had been hiding in your apron pocket, 911 already dialed. You saw Johnny swallow when he saw the numbers, Adam’s apple bobbing as he did so. You felt a surge of power rush to your head, having caught the scarier of the two men now looking like a deer in headlights.

“All I need to do is call. I’m sure the cops would be thrilled to take a look at all the weapons you say you have in your trunk. I want in. You either do this with me or not at all, assholes.”

The two stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity. They seemed to be having an entire conversation with just their eyes. You tried your best to hide the shaking in your knees and the tremble in your fingers, to ignore the fact that this could easily backfire. If they were considering robbing a bank, they were automatically dangerous. One of them could easily have a gun with them here, and they could very easily pull it out and use it to hurt you or Doug.

Finally, Johnny sighed. He didn’t look very happy, but there was a glint in Jaehyun’s eyes that gave you catharsis.

“Alright, sweetheart,” Johnny said in a cold voice, “Let’s talk business.”

Everything had spiraled from there. You took them for a drive around the city to show them just how fast you could be, they opened themselves up to you being their third musketeer. The first time you robbed a bank, they were there to comfort you after you panicked at the idea of living on the run.

Eventually, you found out about their relationship as lovers, and they found out why you were so willing to drop everything and run away with two strangers, among other things. The story of how you drove your first car at twelve because your alcoholic parents were too wasted to drive to the grocery store, how you were cautious to hide the scars of cigarette burns along your inner forearm. After that, they opened up to you as well.

Why Jaehyun ran away from a promising life studying pre-med at an Ivy League University where expectations were eternally piled onto his shoulders, like Atlas holding up the sky. Why Johnny left suburban Chicago behind for LA at sixteen, tired of the monotony of a normal life where everything in his life had to look perfect, everywhere except behind the curtains of his house because his parents couldn’t stand him being attracted to both women and men, since it wasn’t befitting of the perfect family they so desired to be.

Somewhere along the lines, your strange business relationship of robbing banks and splitting the money equally three ways blossomed into something just as strange, but even better, something you’d never expected. You found yourself falling in love with the both of them, growing into the loving family you’d always wanted but of which you’d always been deprived. They both became fiercely protective of you, and after months of them calling you love, baby, sweetheart, princess, they finally asked you to become a permanent part of their relationship, and you accepted.

You expected so many things to happen in your life, but never to fall in love like this. And it was better than anything you could have asked for. They kept you safe and reminded you that you were worthy of love, something you hadn’t felt growing up.

The sudden vibrating of the burner in your pocket snapped you out of your reverie, and you quickly pulled on the black ski mask over your face before you started the car, not hesitating to speed towards the bank. You could hear police cars in the distance, and you took a deep breath as you rolled up to the front door, where the boys were currently exiting, bags full and guns out.

Your chest swelled with a strange sense of pride as they bolted into the car, shouting at you to drive.

Outrunning the police was a challenge, as always, but you were always faster, despite the fact that the boys had to keep telling you to wiggle your fingers since they were so stiff on the wheel and the last thing you needed was for your hands to cramp up now. Sure, you damaged the car a bit, but you could care less. This wasn’t actually your car. This was the car you’d hotwired almost a week ago, the real getaway car was hiding in a rather empty parking building, which you managed to enter and exit without much difficulty, now riding in a blue station wagon rather than the red Pontiac you’d driven to the bank. You all pulled off your masks, Jaehyun laying down to hide himself from the view of the window behind you.

Soon enough, you were out of Los Angeles, driving east towards the state line, and Jaehyun settled into the back seat. You drove for hours, the mood in the car finally having settled into an excited one a few minutes after leaving LA.

“How much did you guys manage to pull out of them?” You asked with a grin, and Johnny and Jaehyun shared a look, something that they always did.

“Baby girl, we managed to get 900,000 dollars from ‘em, we got ‘em good.” God, if you weren’t driving, you would have kissed Johnny then and there. Instead, you shrieked, “Nine hundred thousand!? That’s the biggest amount we’ve pulled yet!”

Jaehyun leaned forward, resting his chin on the front seat as Johnny looked back at him, pressing a soft kiss to the younger’s lips. “We’re celebrating big time, tonight,” Johnny declared once he pulled away from Jaehyun’s lips, much to Jaehyun’s dismay.

“How much longer till we get there?” Jaehyun asked, deep voice rumbling with satisfaction, mostly undeterred from Johnny’s teasing.

You glanced at the clock built into the dashboard, green lights blinking 4:18 PM. “I could get us there in two hours, but I don’t wanna draw attention by speeding. I’d much rather get to the motel at around eight.”

“Take your time, baby girl,” Jaehyun told you, leaning over even further to press a warm kiss to your temple, and your fingers stiffened on the wheel once more, “Whatever you feel works best.”

“Not too long, though,” Johnny added, “I don’t wanna piss myself before we get there.”

Both you and Jaehyun processed what he said, and immediately burst out laughing afterwards.

Yeah, these were the idiots you fell in love with.

The desert seemed endless, nothing in sight for miles but arid dirt and plants along the road. Somewhere along the road, as the sun began to set in the distance, Jaehyun pulled out his real phone from one of his suitcases in the back of the car, playing soft rock for the three of you to listen to as day turned to night, and the lampposts on the side of the road turned on.

There were far and few towns in between the vast expanse of desert, and because of that the stars shone bright in the limitless sky. When you saw the first flash of the moon up above, a song Jaehyun had put on had just ended, and a familiar Stevie Nicks song started playing afterwards. You smiled to yourself, humming along to the soft, tinkling melody.

Lovers forever, face to face                         

My city, your mountains

Stay with me, stay

I need you to love me

I need you today

Give to me, your leather

Take from me, my lace…

Eventually, after an eternity, you passed the sign you’d been so looking forward to seeing.

Welcome to Verona, Nevada

Population: 1,239

The motel wasn’t that hard to find, as it was just off of the highway. Johnny signed in in under 10 minutes, and you settled into the room on the second floor as quickly as you were allowed. The room smelled like mothballs and the carpet looked like it had once been a deep forest green, but was now a dark brown.

Yes, it was disgusting, but this was necessary to lay low for a while. Posing as three friends on a road trip crashing in a dingy motel for the night was generally the ploy. Next morning you would be out on the road again, driving further away from LA, then after a few days, you would finally return back to your shared apartment.

The three of you carried in the suitcases where the bags had been hidden in, and while you were stretching your legs and Jaehyun was showering, Johnny ordered three large pizzas using the phone on the nightstand.  

You lay down on the large, lumpy mattress a few minutes later, grabbing the remote and turning on the small, ancient TV across the room. The bed was lower than what the average bed was for some reason, and you suspected that the frame had broken at some point, and that the motel either didn’t know or didn’t care.

Regardless of how the mattress felt, your eyes started to droop despite flicking through the channels. You could feel your mind start to relax as you let go of your driver mindset, releasing pent up tension and alertness. Johnny turned to face the TV, sparing you a glance with his eyebrows raised.

“The news?”

“You know it, big boy."

He stalked over to where you were and plopped himself down to sit next to you, not hesitating to pull you into his lap. You smiled as he wrapped his hands around your waist, large hands spanning across your skin easily. The TV, now stuck on a channel showing some melodramatic Mexican telenovela, seemed to fade into the background.

"You did so well, today, baby,” He murmured, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, “We all did really good.”

You smiled softly at his gentleness, hands meeting his on your waist, before turning your head enough to meet his gaze, nose brushing against his. His big, brown eyes were hooded, whether from tiredness or admiration of your features, you weren’t sure, but you gave it no further thought once he pressed his lips to yours.

His lips were slightly chapped, and you made a mental note to nag him later to drink more water. One of his hands came to brush some hair out of your face, and you became hyper-aware of each of his movements.

“Hmm, Johnny…"

"Shh, baby girl, let me kiss you a little bit more.”

When his lips came back to yours, his movements became more aggressive, pushing his tongue into your mouth as his grip on your waist tightened. Your breath hitched as you sucked on his tongue, whining softly against his mouth.

“Fuck,” you heard Jaehyun groan from the other side of the room, and Johnny pulled away before you could protest. Your eyes cracked open, hooded eyes finding Jaehyun bathed in warm light from the bathroom. His hair was still kind of damp and he hadn’t bothered buttoning his shirt up.

“Hey, gorgeous,” Johnny greeted, and you bit your lip at the teasing lilt in his tone, “Care to join us?"

"I was gonna wait until after dinner,” Jaehyun said, setting his towel on one of the chairs in the room, “But if you insist…”

“Jae,” You called, voice soft, “Come here, pretty boy.”

Jaehyun smiled as he approached you, standing right in front of you and Johnny, who had now started pressing kisses against your neck. “You want a kiss, princess?”

You nodded as best you could with Johnny sucking on your neck, pouting up at Jaehyun, who in return leaned down and grasped your face before pulling you into a kiss. He tasted like the watermelon bubblegum he always carried around in his pocket. One of your hands came up to comb through his wet, brown hair, nails scratching against his scalp, and he groaned quietly against your lips.

“You’re both so hot,” Johnny murmured against your ear, and you whined at his deep voice, both you and Jaehyun pulling away to look at him, the two of you evidently affected by what he was saying.

To say Johnny was the leader of your relationship was a bit of an understatement. Johnny was the mastermind behind most of your heists, and commanded a presence over both you and Jaehyun, wherever you were. Where Johnny went, you and Jaehyun followed with few objections, trailing behind him like ducklings. Johnny, in return, accepted his more dominant role easily, and did his best to take care of you both.

Sometimes, you wondered if your upbringings influenced the dynamics of your relationship. Maybe Johnny was  eager to dominate the both of you because he was raised under strict, controlling parents dictating his every move and treating him as their little puppet. Jaehyun submitting to Johnny, but not to you, out of the need to please as a kid who had been emotionally neglected but forced to live up to his family’s expectations. And you, submitting to both of them because you were forced to take care of yourself and your parents from a young age when it should have been the other way around.

The moment was broken by a knock at the door, the three of you immediately tensing up. “It’s just the pizza guy,” Jaehyun whispered in reassurance, taking a deep breath, but it didn’t do much to calm your nerves.

“Jae,” Johnny said, nodding toward him, looking alert, “Look through the peephole first. Wait for me.”

Jaehyun nodded, standing slowly. You were taking deep breaths in an attempt to keep yourself calm, but the possibilities of it being anyone but the pizza guy were causing your heart to beat into overdrive. LA police. Nevada police. State troopers. The FBI. Those weird Hungarian guys Jaehyun pissed off a few months ago. Suddenly it was all of them, waiting to burst into the room and take your family away from you.  

Johnny set you down on the bed, flashing you a soft look before pulling the back of his button up to reveal a gun hiding in the waistband of his pants, putting a hand on the grip, just in case. You stood, watching as Jaehyun slowly approached the door to look through the peephole, his eyes dark and eyebrows furrowed, heart pounding in your chest. He shut one eye, looking through the small hole in the door, before allowing his shoulders to slump a moment later, and giving you both a thumbs up.

Coast clear.

You sighed in relief, sitting back down on the bed as Jaehyun stepped away from the door. Johnny handed Jaehyun his gun, pulling out his wallet from the pocket of his pants, and swung open the door, beginning a casual discussion with the delivery man as he pulled some money out of his wallet, before grabbing the pizzas and telling the guy to keep the change.

He closed the door, waiting a few seconds before sighing in relief as well and slumping against it.

“Jesus fuck, that’s one way to kill a boner,” He muttered, looking up as Jaehyun set down the gun on the nightstand.

“Y/N, you should have seen your face,” The younger man said while he stifled a laugh, coming closer to wrap his arms around you, and you huffed.

“Fuck off,” You told him, rejecting his embrace, and pouted, “I was genuinely about to piss myself.”

Jaehyun laughed again, and you retaliated by punching him in the arm, but not too hard, but he still grabbed your hand and pulled you towards Johnny, who had since set the pizzas down on the desk and locked the door again. He opened a box and grabbed a slice, and your spat with Jaehyun was forgotten, especially after having been on the road for over eight hours without stopping to eat.

Jaehyun grabbed another slice, eagerly taking a large bite before his eyes turned to the TV, which was still playing the Mexican telenovela. He raised an eyebrow after a few moments.

“Why are we watching Pasión de Gavilanes?” He asked, reading the name of the show as it cut to a commercial break.

“I was looking for the news,” You replied, giving Johnny a sideways glance, “But someone had other ideas.”

Johnny shrugged, already on his second slice of pizza. “You didn’t seem to mind,” He said after swallowing his food, eyes alight with mischief. You rolled your eyes, but didn’t deny him, and watched as he walked back to the bed, where the remote lay abandoned. He began switching through the channels until he finally stumbled upon the nine o’clock news report on a random channel, and the three of you quietly made your way towards the bed, all three of you waiting for the exact same thing.

And when it came, it was amazing. You were the main story, the breaking news of the armed robbery that had occurred in one of the safest parts of the city.

The three of you huddled together, occasionally getting up to pick up more slices of pizza, all relishing in having your egos stroked as the reporters all went over the details of the heist, how, when the police searched the getaway car (which had been mysteriously abandoned), no trace of any of the thieves were found, that any and all fingerprints didn’t match with any already registered in the LAPD’s database.

“The FBI has already involved itself in the investigation, believing this is the work of the same perpetrators as the Municipal Bank of Santa Monica six months ago, where two assailants…” The female reporter faded into the background, and you nodded to yourself, finishing your pizza happily. You peeked over at Jaehyun, who had a smug look on his face, satisfaction evident. You looked back to the TV as the scene changed, ignoring Johnny as he shifted next to you.

“We have no way  to identify the perpetrators,” A representative for the FBI explained, “All we know is that the suspects are two males, both taller than six feet, and a female of unknown stature. All are believed to be between early and mid 20s.”

You zoned out for the rest of the report, content at both the fullness in your stomach and the lack of evidence the police had against you, before feeling Johnny shift next to you again. You furrowed your eyebrows, turning your head to look at him, only to raise your eyebrows as you realized what was going on.

Your eyes looked down to Johnny’s hand, which had drifted to between Jaehyun’s legs. Jaehyun was slumped against Johnny’s side, panting quietly as Johnny’s hand groped him roughly. Johnny’s gaze met yours, dark eyes twinkling.

“And to think he told us off for not being able to wait,” He murmured, and Jaehyun hummed at the deep roll of his voice. “Come on, princess. Help me make him feel good.”

You nodded, knowing better than to disobey Johnny when he got like this. You lowered yourself to your knees, crawling towards Jaehyun. Johnny moved again, this time sitting behind Jaehyun so he could begin to unbutton Jaehyun’s shirt. You placed yourself in between Jaehyun’s legs, hands coming up to touch the tent in his white shorts.

“I’ve been wanting to do this all night,” You sighed, reaching to unzip his pants. Jaehyun looked down at you, face flushed, but eyes still burning with lust. “That desperate, baby?”

“For you two, always,” You answered quietly, pulling his pants down as he wiggled his hips. Johnny slid the button up down the younger man’s arms, leaving Jaehyun in black boxers. You glanced at Johnny, who was kissing the back of Jaehyun’s neck, big hands sliding up and down Jaehyun’s toned torso, purposely avoiding the metal studs embedded in Jaehyun’s nipples, something you knew Jaehyun loved for Johnny to play with. You bit your lip, not missing  the fact that Johnny was rocking his hips steadily against Jaehyun’s.

You eyed the bulge in Jaehyun’s boxers hungrily, feeling your core heat up at the thought of what was to come, before pulling down the garment and freeing Jaehyun’s dick. He hummed at the feeling, and you didn’t hesitate to wrap a hand around it.

Jaehyun’s head fell back, breath hitching as you pressed a kiss to his tip, and Johnny chose that moment to tug on the piercings. “Fuck, John,” He muttered, eyes squeezing shut.

“Don’t be mean, pretty boy,” Johnny cooed, fingers flicking the nubs incessantly, “Y/N’s helping you out too, don’t ignore her.”

“Y-Y/N—Shit, baby, nngh…”

You smiled at his whine, before taking his tip into your mouth, Jaehyun’s hips instinctually moving to thrust into your mouth. Your hand moved to stroke what you couldn’t fit into your mouth, listening to Johnny whisper filth into Jaehyun’s ear, not letting up his fingers, despite Jaehyun’s squirming.

His pretty face was flushed, letting out soft moans as Johnny tugged on the metal and pressed open mouthed kisses against his neck. You closed your eyes, focusing on hollowing your cheeks and making him feel good. He hissed when he hit the back of your throat, and your eyes opened as you forced yourself not to gag. Drool was pooling in your mouth, threatening to spill down your chin.

“She’s so pretty like this, John…” Jaehyun’s voice sounded breathless as his hands wound into your hair, keeping it out of your face. Your eyes screwed shut, whining quietly at his praise.

"She’s fucking gorgeous when she’s sucking cock,” Johnny growled against Jaehyun’s neck, voice guttural and dangerous, “And she loves it. Isn’t that right, princess?”

Jaehyun’s hand tightened against your scalp, trying to pull you off of his cock. “Give him an answer, baby girl.”

You pulled away from him, hand still gripping his shaft, still pumping slowly. You gasped for air, and the spit that had been gathering in your mouth spilled onto your chin, and they both groaned in unison at the sight. “I love it, John,” You murmured, meeting his dark stare. “Baby, you’re both so big, you both stretch me out so good.”

Jaehyun groaned again, and Johnny hummed, pressing a kiss to Jaehyun’s temple before he stood from the bed. He pulled you up on top of the bed with them, pulling you into his lap. You wrapped your legs around his waist, smiling to yourself as you felt something hard poking at your core. “Jae,” Johnny hummed, and Jaehyun shuffled over to meet you both.

“Spit in her mouth,” Johnny ordered quietly, and you whimpered in delight. Jaehyun looked at you with mischief in his eyes, before grabbing your chin. Your mouth fell open without need for an order, and he pressed his nose against yours. Then he opened his mouth, and you moaned when his spit fell onto your tongue.

“Don’t swallow yet, princess.” Johnny’s voice was deep, dark, and you knew he was thoroughly enjoying watching the both of you. You kept your mouth open, as one of his hands came to hold the back of your neck, drawing him closer to you. He pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth, before opening his mouth and spitting in yours as well.

His eyes never left yours the entire time, nearly black with desire. His face was flushed, and the hand on your neck was hot.

“Swallow,” He growled against your mouth, and you couldn’t bring yourself to disobey. When you opened your mouth to show him how good you were being, he groaned and pressed his lips against yours in a bruising kiss. Your hands busied themselves unbuttoning his shirt, while his hands groped your ass, forcing you to grind against him. You moaned his name, and his tongue found itself into your mouth, taking the lead of the wet, messy kiss.

Your mind was quickly hazing up at the feeling of Johnny’s clothed cock rubbing against you through your denim shorts, but you still picked up on the sounds of skin against skin and panting coming from your left. You pulled away from Johnny’s lips to look towards Jaehyun. Johnny took this chance to tug your shirt off, leaving you in a plain purple bra. Your breath caught in your throat when your eyes fell to Jaehyun’s hands, Johnny’s lips trailing down to the skin of your collarbones.

Jaehyun had one hand stroking himself at a steady pace, the other wrapped around the base of his cock, as if he were trying to stave off an incoming orgasm. He was watching the both of you with eyes darker than the Mojave desert in the middle of the night.

“Jae,” You whined, breathless against Johnny’s frame, “C’mere and kiss me, baby.”

“Yeah?” Jae answered, just as breathless as you, quirking an eyebrow up, “You want me, needy baby?”

You nodded in response, one hand reaching out to him. He leaned forward again, and your eyes fluttered shut as his lips landed against yours.

Jaehyun’s kisses were so different from Johnny’s. Jaehyun was gentler, but he didn’t need to tease you by letting you dominate the kiss and then taking over. No, Jaehyun dominated the kiss from the beginning, plump lips sliding against yours, hands leaving his cock to caress your sides, brushing over Johnny’s hands very briefly. Then, they moved to your back, unclipping your bra and discarding it somewhere on the bed.

He pulled away from your lips, and Johnny, who had been sucking a purple mark into your shoulder, did the same. You noted that all of your chests were heaving. Johnny’s hands were still moving your hips against his, and the pleasure left your mind reeling.

“You close, princess?” Jaehyun asked, and you shook your head. “N-not yet, but… s-soon.”

“Look at how pretty our baby girl is, Jaehyun,” Johnny murmured,  dark eyes glittering in adoration as he watched your hips speed up of their own accord, rutting against him like a mindless animal. Jaehyun hummed in agreement, leaning his head against Johnny’s shoulder. Your head tipped back, unable to handle both of them looking at you, looking through you, as you fell apart on Johnny’s lap.

“You’re so perfect, Y/N. So good for us, baby girl.”

By now, the fabric of your shorts and your panties against your core were starting to feel uncomfortable, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You were so lost in hazy pleasure, head swimming with nothing but thoughts of your two lovers. Your hands linked around Johnny’s neck, trying to find something to tether yourself to the mortal world, because you were certain that if you didn’t, you would float off into space, never to be seen again.

“Ah, f-fuck,” You said, “L-love you both so much…”

Jaehyun’s hand caressed your neck, before coming to caress your cheek. He moved your head as well, forcing you to meet his eyes. His eyes were warm, clouded with desire. Your gaze flickered between his face and Johnny’s, and you whined again. They were watching you wordlessly, in a way that made you feel safe, loved, needed, and even though it’d been about a year and a half since they started looking at you like that, it never failed to make your head spin in love and arousal.  

Johnny let loose a lazy smile at your words, hips bucking against your own. “We love you too, princess. You’re so sweet, do you wanna come soon?”

You nodded desperately, opening your mouth to answer but moaning instead when Johnny pressed you down even more against his cock. They both laughed at your noise, and you just had to laugh along with them.

The laughter died down a few moments later, and you felt yourself dangling over the edge. You just needed one little push, and a little push is what you got when Jaehyun turned his face to Johnny, and the older man met him for a kiss. Johnny growled against Jaehyun’s lips, biting down on his lower lip, and Jaehyun’s hand ran through Johnny’s hair, now sweaty and damp.

The sight of your lovers making out in front of you tipped you over the edge. Your eyes screwing shut, their names and profanities spilling from your mouth, moaning as the pleasure started in your hands and feet, before spreading up your arms and legs and taking over your body. Your hips didn’t stop moving, seemingly having a mind of your own, trying to draw out your orgasm as you clenched around nothing. All too soon, the sensation washed away, leaving you pliant and breathless in Johnny’s arms.

Your eyes opened to find that they hadn’t exactly broken away. They’d stopped kissing to pay attention to you, but they were still close enough for each other’s lips to remain against their own. When they finally separated, a small trail of spit connected their lower lips.

“That was so hot,” Johnny groaned, pressing your head against his chest, which was now bare, somehow. Jaehyun must have slipped off his shirt at some point without you noticing, you concluded in your frazzled state of mind. You closed your eyes as you allowed your breathing to return to normal, vaguely aware of your boys kissing each other a bit more.

“How are you doing, princess?” Jaehyun said once you had calmed down, no longer panting. His hand was caressing your side up and down, almost as if he was comforting you. You straightened your posture to look up at him and Johnny, giving them a soft, sleepy smile. Johnny’s big hands squeezed your hips as he spoke. “You wanna stop, or do you wanna keep going?”

You nodded, brushing away a damp strand of hair that was in your face. “I still haven’t gotten fucked by either of you,” You mumbled, “What makes you think I’m stopping before that happens?”

The pair exchanged a dark glance, wicked smiles gracing their faces before looking back at you.

“Clothes off,” Jaehyun ordered, “Now.”

You moved off of Johnny, legs wobbling slightly, to lay down next to them. You popped the button on your shorts and pulled down the zipper, watching as Jaehyun undressed Johnny, doing the same with his shorts as he kissed down the older man’s neck. You were left in now ruined cotton panties, the drenched fabric clinging to your folds in an awkward way. Your eyes turned to the pair in front of you as Jaehyun pulled down Johnny’s boxers, leaving him naked as well. They faced you, and Johnny grabbed you by the ankle, dragging you towards them with a soft smile on his face. You laughed quietly, the noise dying when Jaehyun grabbed your other leg as well and parted them, before lying in between them, face inches away from your core.

“John, baby,” He said, craning his neck to stare at him, “Can I…?”

“Go ahead, pretty boy,” Johnny replied, as he lay next to you, “Y/N made you feel good earlier, and we need to get her ready for us, right? You can return the favor, can’t you?”

Jaehyun nodded, and Johnny raised an eyebrow as he moved to lie next to you. “Words, baby boy.”

Jaehyun gulped, hands resting on your hips. “Yes, John.”

His hands reached for your panties, his eyes meeting yours as he pressed a kiss to your thigh. Your hand brushed some sandy brown hair out of his eyes, and you hummed as you watched him pull down the last piece of clothing, discarding it. “Jae,” You mumbled, “You’re so pretty, baby.”

Jaehyun smiled, the tips of his ears turning red. It had taken you a few weeks for you to put it together when you started dating, but you eventually figured out that Jaehyun loved getting praised. Anytime you or Johnny said something about how good or handsome he was, how nice he made either of you feel, he’d turn to putty in your hands.

He grabbed your thighs, pulling them over his shoulders, his face close to where you needed him most but did nothing. He was riling you up, you knew he was. He loved to do this, loved to wait how long he could wait before making you beg. “Babe,” You murmured, “Jae, please don’t tease me.”

His eyes twinkled with something you couldn’t read as he pressed another kiss to your thigh, big, rough hands gripping your hips possessively. “You beg so nicely, princess. How could I refuse?”

He lowered his mouth to your hole, and your eyes squeezed shut, hissing out at the sensitivity. Johnny pressed a kiss to your forehead. The hand that wasn’t tugging on Jaehyun’s hair shot out to grasp Johnny’s forearm. Johnny responded by grabbing your hand and guiding it to his cock, and you obeyed his silent command by wrapping your hand around him, pumping him slowly.

You could hear his breathing right next to your ear, combined with the wet sounds Jaehyun was making as he mouthed along your slit. You weren’t sure what to focus on, letting out a high keen as Jaehyun slid a finger inside of you, his mouth coming up to suckle on your clit.

“Ah, Jaehyun, baby,” You whined, hips trying to move, but being stopped by Jaehyun’s other hand, “F-feels so good.”

Jaehyun hummed against your clit, the vibration causing you to squirm even further, crying out his name. Already you could feel the familiar sensation in your lower stomach again, forcing you to focus on Jaehyun’s mouth, alternating between sucking your clit and flicking it with the tip of your tongue.

“You like how he’s making you feel, baby girl?” Johnny asked a few moments later, and you nodded as he pressed his forehead against your temple to whisper into your ear. “You like the way he’s being a good boy and eating your pussy like he’s starving?”

You nodded again, whining even louder when Jaehyun added a second finger. Johnny’s hand rose to your breast, teasing your nipple as your head fell back, hand falling into a sloppy rhythm against Johnny’s cock. He pinched harshly, and you tried to move away from his grip, but he wouldn’t let you. “Neither of you seem to want to use your words today, huh? Come on, princess, tell Jaehyun how much you like it.”

You opened your mouth, trying to speak, but shrieking when Jaehyun’s fingers began to thrust into you at a rapid pace. Your hips were bucking wildly against Jaehyun’s mouth and fingers now, despite his best efforts to hold you down.

“J-Jae, fuck, fuck, fuck… Ah, your fingers are s-so big… They’re fucking me so good, I-I’m so sensitive, I don’t think I can h-hold on much longer…”

“Aw, already?” Jaehyun teased from between your legs, fingers not letting up as he slowed down their pace, “It’s only been a few minutes.”

“Jaehyun,” You whined, grasp tightening on his hair, “I’m gonna come, p-please…”

“No.”

Your eyes shot open to glare at Johnny, breathing heavily as Jaehyun removed his fingers from your aching core, and your hand stopped its movement against Johnny’s dick. “Why not?” You whined, and Johnny sat up, propping himself against the faded maroon headboard of the bed.

“Because you’re not cumming again until both of us have.” His tone was stern, leaving no room for argument. His gaze, however, was warm. “Now, what’s gonna happen is this: you’re gonna get on your hands and knees, and pretty boy over there is gonna fuck you from behind, and you’re gonna let me fuck your face. Can you two do that for me?”

He was giving both you and Jaehyun the chance to drop it now, disguised under the illusion of a command. But you didn’t want to stop. You rarely did when it came to your boyfriends.

“Yes, John,” You and Jaehyun answered at the same time, looking at him. Johnny grinned, patting his thighs with both hands.

“Come here, Y/N. Hands and knees, like I said.”

You crawled over to him, eyes not leaving Johnny’s face. His dark eyes followed yours, face covered with a light sheen of sweat, hair brushed back to reveal his forehead. You leaned forward when you got to the spot where he ordered you to be, pressing a kiss to his jawline. Your mouth trailed down to his neck, smiling against his skin when you heard him sigh in satisfaction.

You felt the bed shift as Jaehyun came to kneel behind you, hands trailing down your back, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Your kisses trailed down Johnny’s tan skin, past his collarbones, across his pecs, down his stomach, ghosting along his right hip. Your lips left his skin as Jaehyun gripped your hip with one hand, using his hand to grind his dick against your soaking folds.

“You want me to put it in, baby?” Jaehyun asked you, and you nodded without hesitating, your face heating at your desperation. “Yes, Jae.”

“Suck Johnny’s dick and I’ll do whatever you want, lovely girl.”

His words were accompanied by Johnny’s hands touching the back of your neck, not pushing, but still commanding a certain power over you, still compelling you to lower yourself onto his cock.

One thing you’d learned very early on from having sex with both Johnny and Jaehyun, you thought as you let your mouth relax around Johnny’s dick, was that they were both bigger than the past lays you’d had. Jaehyun was a bit longer, but Johnny was thicker. Regardless, they both had the power to leave your legs shaking, and your throat scratchy for days.

Once you’d allowed your jaw to loosen enough, you began bobbing your head up and down slowly, tonguing along the underside of the shaft. Your hands held you up, grasping Johnny’s toned thighs for support. A rush came through you as you realized that those thighs were what had made you come earlier, and that helped you push Johnny even further down your throat.

A groan bubbled out of Johnny’s throat, and Jaehyun took that as his sign to push into you. You moaned against Johnny, and his groan got louder, hands pushing you even further against Johnny’s pelvis. You held back the urge to gag, forcing yourself to focus on breathing through your nose despite the intrusion in your mouth.  

Jaehyun’s movements started slow, letting you get used to the both of them fucking into you from both ends. He let out a low hiss as you clenched around him, hips grinding against you in a way that had you seeing stars.

It was as if they were connected telepathically, something unspoken between the two of them that always confused and amused you. You felt the amusement again as they both sped up the movements of their hips at the same time, a gradual buildup from teasing, subtle grinding, to harsh bucks of the hips, fucking in and out of you as if you were their own little tool for pleasure, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Any noises that left you were either muffled shrieks of pleasure as Jaehyun pounded away at your still sensitive pussy, or gagging noises, as Johnny’s hands forced you up and down his cock, bottoming out into your throat whenever he wanted to prolong little bursts of ecstasy. Tears were running down your face as he did so, and when he noticed, he let out a strained laugh.

“Hey, baby girl, are you crying because of my dick or Jaehyun’s?”

He pulled you off of him, and you took the chance to catch your breath before answering a few seconds later.

“B-both,” You moaned, and Jaehyun grunted in acknowledgement.

“Good,” He hummed, and you bit your lip as you fucked back against him, “Using our little girl like this feels so nice, doesn’t it, Johnny?”

“It feels fucking fantastic, pretty boy,” Johnny answered as you craned your neck to kiss along his shaft, “She’s so small, but she takes us both like a fucking champ. Maybe next time we should stuff her pussy and her ass at the same time… would you like that, angel?”

You cried out enthusiastically, stomach twisting at the suggestion. Jaehyun threw his head back, letting out a guttural groan.

“Oh, she’d love that, baby. You should’ve felt how much tighter she got when you said that.”

Johnny grinned, and lifted you off of his cock one more time.

“Hey, Y/N,” He said, lifting your chin to get you to look at him.

“H-hey, Johnny,” You whimpered, and Johnny pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Get off his dick, princess,” He told you, loud enough for Jaehyun to hear, “I’ve got an idea.”

Jaehyun stopped his movements, pulling out of you. You whined at the sudden emptiness, and Johnny patted your head to calm you before standing. Given that the bed frame was a lot lower than most beds, it allowed him to tower over both you and Jaehyun as Johnny propped the younger man up, then told you to sit in his lap, letting Jaehyun slide back inside of you.

“I wanna watch you both,” He murmured lovingly, carding a hand through Jaehyun’s hair, who hummed happily. Your mind was turning fuzzy fast, clinging to Jaehyun and pressing soft kisses to his jaw.

“Can we still touch you, Johnny?” You asked, voice small, flashing him big, pouty eyes that he could seldom refuse as he sat back down at where he once was.

Johnny nodded, his hand moving to your head and repeating the movement he’d made on Jaehyun’s head. “Of course you can, baby,” He answered, “But you’ll do it when I say so and how I tell you to do it. Is that okay?”

“Yes, Johnny.”

“Okay.”

Johnny smiled at the both of you, and slowly Jaehyun began his rhythm again, fucking in and out of you slowly, before speeding up again. Your lips trailed down to his neck, sucking on a spot you wanted to leave a mark on, and your hands came up to toy with his nipple piercings, mimicking what Johnny had been doing to him earlier.

Jaehyun groaned, eyebrows furrowing and eyes fluttering shut as you began to move with him and tug at the piercings. He turned his head to lock eyes with Johnny, who was stroking himself as he watched the two of you gradually lose control against each other’s body. The two held each other’s gaze, Jaehyun’s eyes lowering first as he pressed a kiss to your  sweaty forehead.

“John,” Jaehyun pleaded, voice deep and teasing, “Come here, daddy, I wanna jack you off.”

Johnny raised an eyebrow. You and Jaehyun only brought out daddy when you wanted to be little shits to him and tease him more than usual. Nevertheless, he relented, standing and walking around the bed. Your eyes peeled open a few moments later, finding Johnny standing to the side of you, cock being stroked by Jaehyun as he continued to roll his hips into you.

Given that the bed was lower than usual, and Johnny was freakishly tall, his dick was more or less level with your faces, and through the hazy pleasure of Jaehyun pounding away at you, you got an idea.

You leaned slightly to the side, pressing a kiss to the head of Johnny’s member, and Johnny groaned as he realized what you wanted to do. Jaehyun seemed to like the idea, his hips fucking into you even faster once he registered what was going on.

Johnny used his knees to lean against the mattress, allowing you to lean back into your original position as he tipped his head back.

“Our dirty girl,” Johnny hissed, “You want cock so bad, don’t you? Can’t handle just one fucking you, you need another one down your throat.”

Jaehyun pulled you off of him. “Give him an answer, sweetheart,” He ordered, before taking your place and taking Johnny into his mouth.

“I’m yours,” You told them, “Want you both all day, all night, ngh, always… I love you both s-so much, I can’t handle not being fucked like this ever again…”

“You belong to us now, baby. We own you, body and soul.” Johnny’s voice was slightly strained now, but his words still held the same effect. You were eager to agree, unable to say anything as Jaehyun hit the one spot inside of you that had you crying out his name.

“Fuck, Jae! Right there!”

Jaehyun pulled off of Johnny’s cock, pulling you into a bruising kiss as he continued to hit your sweet spot time and time again.

“Yeah, you’re gonna cum again soon?” Jaehyun asked when he pulled away, and you nodded, before turning to Johnny and taking him into your mouth again.

“Don’t forget, princess,” Johnny said, “You can’t cum until either of us have. Understood?”

You nodded, trying to hold off the impending wave that was soon to crash on you.

“I’m so fucking close, Johnny,” Jaehyun mumbled, and Johnny gave a garbled agreement when Jaehyun’s free hand came up to stroke along with your hand.

“Me too, baby,” Johnny groaned, “You gonna fill Y/N up? Cum inside that tight pussy of hers?”

Your legs wrapped around Jaehyun’s waist, before you pulled your mouth away from Johnny, opting to stroke him as Jaehyun took him into his mouth once more.

“Give it to me, Jae,” You begged, voice shaky.

Johnny came first with a loud, “Fuck!” He watched as you and Jaehyun took turns licking away the cum as it shot out of the tip of his dick, tongues meeting occasionally as you both mouthed along the head.

“Shit, you’re both so good to me.”

Jaehyun’s orgasm came moments later. He buried his face in your neck, wrapping his arms around your waist as his pace turned sloppy and sporadic, filling you with hot cum as he groaned out both your name and Johnny’s. You whimpered at the sensitivity of your insides as he twitched against your walls, painting them white, but you didn’t stop bouncing in his lap.

“Y-you both came,” You moaned, desperate to cum. You could see on Jaehyun’s face that he was growing sensitive as well, but his hands on your waist weren’t stopping you at all. “Please let me cum, I’ve been a good girl…”

Johnny sat behind you, letting your head roll onto his shoulder. One hand wrapped around your neck, not squeezing, but still tight enough to send a thrill down your spine. “Yeah, you’ve been really well behaved tonight, baby. You weren’t as bratty as you usually are, hmm?”

You couldn’t answer, not when his other hand reached down to tap away at your swollen clit.

“J-John, ah—”

“You wanna cum, baby girl?”

You nodded, eyes squeezing shut as your hips took on a mind of their own.

“Then cum, sweetheart.”

And somehow, his deep, warm voice triggered your orgasm.

You threw your head back, almost positive that what you were speaking in tongues rather than actually saying anything coherent. You clung onto Jaehyun with one hand, writhing in his hold, and reached back to grip Johnny’s bicep. Beneath your eyelids, colors danced around you. You were certain this was what heaven felt like, and that this was some sort of divine ascension…

Verona, Nevada, 10:06 PM

When you managed to come down, you felt groggy, and your vision felt hazy, as if you were in a dream.  The only sound came from the three of you, breathing heavily as you recovered from what had just happened. The room smelled like sex, sweat, and oddly enough, greasy pizza.

“Y/N?” Jaehyun murmured, “You still with us?"

You nodded, trying to ignore the scratchiness in your throat. "Yeah… ‘m good. Came really hard.”

Johnny chuckled from behind you, before pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “Certainly looked like it, baby.”

You smiled, eyes drooping already at the tiredness you were beginning to feel.  

You settled down between the two of them, ignoring the smell of sweat emanating from the three of you all together. Yes, you loved being like this, sandwiched between your two favorite people, but you couldn’t deny that the body heat radiating from everyone, plus slight tackiness of sweaty skin against more sweaty skin made you want to cringe. And as much as you loved the idea of Jaehyun’s cum staying inside of you, it was slowly beginning to trickle down your thigh, further contributing to your growing discomfort.

“I need to shower,” You finally mumbled, rubbing your eyes sleepily, before pouting. Looking around the motel room, you noted that it was dingy enough, you didn’t want to imagine the bathroom. “How bad is the bathroom?”

Jaehyun groaned, hand coming to rub at his forehead in disdain.

“Oh, it’s fuckin’ nasty.”

“...Shit.”

[phoebe-lou]

A Forgotten Birthday

Fandom: The Umbrella Academy

Pairing: Number Five x reader

Summary: After saving the world from the apocalypse, Five struggles with living a simple life causing a strain on his relationship.

Word Count: 2009

__________________________________

5...4...3...2..1! Happy Birthday to me.

Sunlight shone throughout my room, and a gentle breeze drifted through the open windows. Looking over at the clock which now read 6.00am, I allowed a smile to grace over my lips. I had been restless all night and had been sat up worrying about Five like usual. I hoped today would be different, giving both of us one day to take a break from his obsessive apocalyptic nature.

Rolling over on my side, I was shocked to find the other side of the bed empty and Five's early morning 'signature' coffee missing. Letting out a frustrated sigh, I peeled back the duvet and groggily trudged over to the bathroom. After gently splashing some cold water over my face and brushing my teeth, I tossed my crazy-ass hair into a messy bun like a boss, and began the trek to the kitchen.

Expecting to be greeted with breakfast and a fresh cup of coffee, I found non other than a half-naked Klaus passed out on the table, and Five no where in sight. For fucks sake. I rolled my eyes and began making Klaus some breakfast as he'll need some hangover food to soak up all the alcohol. I decided to just throw in some toast and pour a glass of orange juice, as Klaus began waking up and mumbling something about his ass and chocolate pudding?

"Morning sunshine." I said with an amused smile on my face, whilst Klaus began to groan and pulled himself up into a sitting position.

"What rude bitch opened the blinds this morning?" He said after accepting a glass of orange juice I handed him.

"That would have been you, and your amazing Picasso skills last night I'm guessing."

Klaus looked up at the blinds to see that someone had cut them up to make some clothes, since there was underwear shaped holes missing.

"I was wondering what I was wearing, it's definitely not yours or Allison's."

"I think the yellow 'blind' underwear, really complements your eyes." I laughed winking at him, as I took the toast out and began buttering it.

"Danke."

"So what year is it again?" Klaus mumbled as he began munching on the toast I put in front of him.

"You mean the date Klaus?."

"Yeah that."

"It's __________ (insert birthday🥳)."

"Holy shit!" Klaus shot up, knocking his chair over and throwing the toast to the ground. Then sassily marched over to me, where he pulled me into a giant bone crushing hug. Jesus how does he wake up so fast?

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY YOU SEXY MIDGET."

"I'M ONLY 4"10, FIGHT ME BITCH."

"ALSO BEN SAYS HAPPY BIRTHDAY."

"TELL HIM I LOVE HIM."

*Meanwhile Ben just rolls his eyes*

"There is way too much Klaus and Y/N in here, this early in the morning." Diego huffed as he began filling up the kettle, not even bothering to comment on Klaus's attire.

"Good morning to you too Antonio Banderas." Klaus laughed and high-fived me.

"Besides it's only 7.00am." I smiled.

"Whatever."

"Oooo whose got your panties in a twist?."

"Anyway, Happy Birthday Y/N." Diego huffed.

"Awww you remembered, I knew you loved me really." I said forcing Diego into a hug which he eventually gave into. Suddenly another pair of arms wrapped around us. Diego became alarmed and shouted "What is wrong with you?!"

Klaus innocently smiled "I just wanted to be part of the moment."

"What's wrong with who?" Trust monkey boy to enter at this moment.

"I'll take this as my leave." Diego shrugged Klaus's arms off him, then subtly tilted his head at me, towards a card he placed by the microwave. Before marching off, after I gave him a beaming smile and a wave.

"Happy Birthday kid."

"Thanks Luther but you know I'm 28 years older than you."

"And your even more immature than Klaus, and trust me that's saying something."

"Rude. Hey don't agree with him Ben, you're supposed to be on my side." Klaus began to have a one-sided argument with 'Ben.' While I took this as a chance to slip out the kitchen and get ready.

*2 hours later*

Yes I'm high maintenance, and looking this gorgeous takes a while.

I finally finished my outfit my adding my new moon necklace, which was a birthday present from Luther (that was probably picked by Allison).

I sprayed some perfume and let my h/c  hair fall down. Mission was ago. Find Five. Get drunk. Party. Have an awesome birthday. Go back a few steps and whoop Five's ass for no breakfast in bed. Perfect.

I looked through the entire house, where there was no trace of him so decided to head over to Griddy's Doughnuts. As I opened the front door, I walked into Allison and Vanya who immediately wished me a Happy Birthday and began planning a girls night out. Just what I need after putting up with all this shit, Five keeps throwing at me.

*Flashback* - Warning Mild Smut ⚠️

I was lounging across Five's bed pretending to read this boring romance novel, whilst Five was consistently writing long, complicated equations all over his wall. I wasn't expecting this is what he meant when he invited me over to spend sometime together. My patience was wearing thin, as I tried to tell myself that he was just not used to having a life outside of the apocalypse. But I went through it with him, so if I can learn to adapt, he should to.

Sneakily looking over at him, I came up with a plan to draw his attention away. Gently placing the book on the bed, I slowly walked towards him and placed my arms around his neck. It was no shocker that he immediately tensed up and his brows began to frown deeper.

"What do you want Y/N?"

"Not much." I whispered in his ear, as I ghosted my lips over his neck. "Just a little bit of attention."

Five sighed and tried to focus on the equation he was working on, which had now proven difficult as I began to pepper kisses along his jaw.

"Come on, enough."

I ignored him and began to drag my soft kisses down his neck, sucking a little harder until I found his sweet spot. Got you.

"Y/N...." He drifted off, as the pen dropped from his hands.

"Hmm?" I smirked and began grasping at his dark hair.

He finally turned around and smashed our lips together sloppily, as our tongues began fighting for dominance. He obviously won. His hands began to gently slide up the bottom of my top, just resting above my hips as he began to draw circles on my skin. Suddenly blue sparks surrounded us as I found ourselves teleported onto his desk.

He shoved all of his work out the way and began making out with me again. I gradually lifted my arms up, as he began to pull my top off...

"Y/N?"

"Y/N?"

"Y/N?!!"

My eyes fluttered dreamily as I looked over at Five who was frowning at me.

"For gods sake, did you fall asleep?! I wanted some help with these equations as you're the only non-idiotic person I know. Ugh forget it, of course it doesn't matter if there's another apocalypse." He whined sarcastically, and turned back around, continuing his work.

Five's writing came to a stop and as I launched my book at the walk near his head.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" He shouted, finally exploding with frustration.

"You're an ass." I mumbled. He rolled his eyes and teleported away, probably before he did or said something he'd regret.

I preferred dream Five.

*Flashback over*

Arriving at Griddy's, I locked the car and walked over to the entrance and went inside. Surprise, surprise my 'affectionate' boyfriend was sat with a mug of coffee writing equations on napkins.

"Well, well, well good afternoon handsome." Five looked up irritated and forced a smile.

"What is it?" Was he joking?

"I thought we were going to spend the day together, you said you had something planned last week."

"We'll have to reschedule or something."

"Hahaha very funny grumpy-ass." He didn't look very amused, as he sighed and took a long sip of coffee.

"Can we talk later, I'm kind of in the middle of something?"

Alarms were going off. He had forgotten. Maybe he needed a little more convincing and a few hints.

"Well today is kind of a special day." He looked blankly at me before he gave me a genuine smile.

"Is it national coffee day? Thanks for reminding me gorgeous." He smirked and winked. Was he for fucking real?

"Maybe you should get some cake with that coffee."

"The sweetness ruins the bitter taste I like." You bitter old bugger.

"Isn't there something you're forgetting Five? Some sort of special day, for a special girl."

"Shit. You're right. Meet me at the house in 20 mins." With that he teleported away. Well my work here is done. I'm expecting a decent last minute party though.

After wasting 30 mins shopping, I decided to head back and see what Five had done. As I entered the house it was really quiet, until I reached the living room....

Where Five sat lounging on a sofa drinking margaritas with Dolores.

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!!"

"Well when you say about a special day for a special lady, I remembered-d that it's been some years years since we found the lovely-y Dolores." He smirked cheekily at me and offered me a glass.

"Are you drunk?"

"No...."

"......."

"Maybe..."

"......"

"Yes..."

Just at the wrong time everyone came rushing in with party poppers, and balloons shouting 'SURPRISE.' I looked down to the floor with angry tears burning down my cheeks, I couldn't believe him. Everyone could sense the tension in the room, except for Five who still looked completely clueless.

"What's goin-n on? He slurred.

"Check the calendar..." I whispered.

I couldn't stand everyone looking at me with such pity so I went straight to our room, crying myself to sleep early.

*A few hours later*

I woke up to knocking at the door.

"Go away."

Hearing the familiar sound of Five's special jump I buried my face into my pillow.

"Can we talk...?"

"...."

"Please... Y/N."

"...."

"Can we just..."

"WHAT?!" I hissed, ripping the duvet off me to glare at him.

He straight away noticed my red, blotchy face, and long tear lines causing my mascara to run down my face.

"I'm sorry..." With that Five burst into tears. I'd only ever seem him cry twice so I wasn't sure what to do.

"I'm sorry-y... I've j-just been trying-g to be ready f-for something bad to happen-n again, as I know the c-commission wants order-r. We've both been-n to hell and b-back, and I can't imagine-e loosing you. I j-just wanted to keep-p you safe, but I've b-been so wrapped up in d-doing all these possible equations-s, that I've p-pushed you away.... Then I've been-n so preoccupied that I forgot-t your b-birthday..."

"Oh Five." I wrapped my arms around him as he began to sob into my chest. I whispered soothing words as I gently rubbed his back.

"You'll never loose me, and I'm not upset about my birthday that much. I honestly just miss spending time with you, and can't believe you prioritised coffee and a manikin over me you ass!" At this Five chuckled and began to calm down.

"You know I don't say it enough... but I love you Y/N."

"I love you too Five."

"Did you want to have that amazing party you've been telling me about?"

"Actually can we just spend the rest of today cuddling and watch a move?"

"Anything you want love."

"You were totally jealous of Dolores."

"Shut up Five."

_________________________________________

Hope you enjoyed it, let me know what you think 💖☂️

[chappedandfadedvds]

Oct 31th, Saturday 15:27

„So here we are. Casa Stoffels.“ Jens provided happily, as they stepped into the open space, kitchen and dinning space to their right and living room on their left. And right infront of them on the floor on spread out pages of newspaper sat Robbe, Sander, Milan and Lotte. Already deeply indulged into their craft, drawing shapes and discussing designs. Knives, tools, pens and four orange pumpkins of various sizes placed in their center. 

The fifth one was currently infront of Lotte, who had taken the space next to Sander. And Jens swore to god, sometimes this boy just didnt think things through.

„Sander, you do not give my eight-year old sister a big fat sharp knife to carve into a pumpkin. And herself while she’s at it.”

„She has to learn to do it at one point.“ Sander tried to defend casually shrugging, not yet having let go of the handle of the knife, he was about to press into Lotte’s tiny hand. His sister was looking up at Jens too, almost pleading to be allowed to do it. 

„Yes, but not at eight.“ Jens insisted and then continued directly at his little sister: „Sander, can cut it open and you can hollow it out like last year, okay? Maybe you can try and help to cut some pumpkin for the soup later?“

That seemed enough to please Lotte as she happily nodded, agreeing to Jens completely, before turning back to Sander. This girl loved Sander so much. Mainly because he was always playing and fooling around with her when he was over. He remembered the huge blanket fort they had set up in her room last winter. A massive structure that englufed all furniture and stood for weeks. 

Or the one weekend, when Sander still went through the end of a depressive phase, Lotte had offered her bed to him, and then talked, and read her two-graders school work to the sad boy all day long. 

Or the one day when they spend hours online on Zoom, him rating all her drawings. 

It was great actually, because it meant that Jens and Robbe had lots of time to themselfes when they all met up. And Sander really seemed to enjoy his time with Lotte quite a bit too.

Just as he was about to ask what Lucas would like to drink, in order to be a good host and also make Lucas feel welcomed, Robbe and Milan had greeted the newly arrived boy, who replied explaining the spontaneous invitation by Jens last night. That made Lotte spun around surprised. Apparently she hadn’t noticed Lucas standing in their house at all.

„Who are you? You sound funny.“ She inquired blunt and straight forward as only a child could. 

„I’m Lucas, a new friend of your brother from school. I’m from the Netherlands actually.“ Lucas introduced himself yet again this week. He seemed a bit taken aback as she had adressed his dutch accent, but certainly amused by the little girl, who thought long about his answer and then smiled up at him.

„Okay, I’m Lotte. You can share Jens’s pumkin then.“ She decided, making everyone laugh and her instead very confused why it had prompted such a reaction.

„Sounds like a really good idea, Lotte.“ Jens agreed as soon as he had calmed down again.

„Only if I get to draw the face. You probably can���t draw shit and I’m not having an ugly ass pumpkin for Halloween.“ Lucas said leaning over just a bit towards Jens, his elbow poking his side, which made Jens suddenly realise how close they were actually standing. He turned his head just enough to find the smile he liked so much on those pretty lips. They were way too close for his comfort, especially having his sister and friends watching them.

„Sure.“ Jens barely managed to get out and then with a bit more confidence pointed towards the kitchen counter, that showed a huge glass carafe, filled to the brim. „Would you like something to drink?“

„What do you have?“ Lucas asked as they both made their way over, the others back to their task of carving the pumpkins. Only Robbe had thrown them another brief glance, Jens had noted, a bit worried if he had made his nervousness too obvious perhaps. Robbe knew him too well to not see that Jens was acting a bit off at times.

„I’ve made ice tea.“ Jens stated as he grabbed a couple of glasses from the cabinet across, placing them beside the carafe, for the others to take later as well.

„You? You made it?“ Lucas asked looking impressed and Jens felt even more proud now, that he could surprise Lucas like that, as it honestly was just ice tea. Lotte probably could have done it. He didn’t mind the boy‘s praise though.

„Yes, my mom used to do it all the time, she taught me and now I’m the ice tea chef or however you wanna call it. It is basically just green tea, with some roasted rice, and added apple and elderflower. And some honey.“ Jens explained brightly, pouring two glasses and handing one to Lucas. Their hands touched. Obviously they would, no wait they really wouldn’t. Why was Jens so affected by it? He couldn’t help himself though and watched the glass instead, as it was been brought to Lucas’s lips, who in turn never took his eyes off of Jens. Shouldn’t this be wierd? 

„Wow. This is really good. I love it. I guess I’ll move in now, knowing you are amazing at ice tea making.“ He teased grinning like an idiot and Jens just stood there, absolutely overwhelmed and even a bit insecure for fuck’s sake. He never was that. He was Jens. Jens was confident and cocky and brazen at times. Now he didn’t know what to do with himself. 

„Already moving in, isn’t that a bit hasty, shouldn’t you take me out on a date first?“ Thank god for years of flirting experience and cheesy lines, his brain seemed to still be working, even if his body has decided to fail him, as he spilled half his drink as he had tried to put his glass back down.

„Shit.“ He mumbled, already grabbing for the paperr towel by the kitchen sink.

„Let me.“ Lucas appeared directly behind him. Jens could feel the heat radiating from the boy’s body, as he reached around him, taking it from the counter. He knew if he would lean back just a little, he would fall into the body of Lucas. A thought he found way too alluring to have on a saturday afternoon, with guests just across the room. And then Lucas was gone.

„Thank you.“ Jens said smiling anyway, ignoring the little dissapointment in their distance again, as they both cleaned up the tea.

„Could you bring us some spoons, to cave them out?“ Milan asked, looking over, presenting them with his pumpkin he held high up into the air. A proper halloween pumpkin face was outlined on it’s deep orange skin and it reminded him, that they actually were doing the whole pumpkin carving thing.

„Will do.“ Jens replied loudly, already opening the drawer to pull them out.

„Alright, Mister Artist, let’s see what you can do.“ He winked at Lucas, feeling much more poised to handle having the dutch boy here, and walked over. Followed close by Lucas, who plopped down next to him once Jens had taken his place in the circle.

„No, this is your pumpkin!“ Lotte complained pointing towards the flattest one in the middle, when Lucas had dared to take the tall one next to it. „This one is mine, Sander had promised me to put a witch and a cat on it.“ She explained, as if Lucas was dumb and it was common knowledge.

„What the hell are you doing, Robbe?“ Sander questioned his boyfriends dotted pumpkin, pecking a kiss at his cheek, delighted. Only recieving a wiggle of brows in response and a short: „You will see.“

„Am I the only one doing a traditional face here?“ Milan feigned hurt and looked between their designs that started taking shape.

„What can I help it, if you are just as uninspired as most of the boring people on this earth. Bad gay.“

„Sander! Very thin ice, my friend. I am the one on the rental agreement for the flat, that you decided was your new residence.“

„No, I love you, Milan. For real. Promise. Don’t kick me out.“

„Asshole, I couldn’t even if I wanted to. You are lucky I love my little Robbe too much to put him on the street. Because I swear to god, this boy would follow you right out, if I dared.“

„Good to know.“

„You better not use that as leverage in the future.“

„I wouldn’t even dream about it.“

Maybe not having a big, loud halloween party this year wasn’t as bad, Jens thought only half listening. Instead he observed Lucas intently drawing a scary set of teeth onto the pumpkin, biting his lip in concentration. While Milan and Sander went on teasing each other, in an endless cycle of jabs and quips, much to Robbe’s and Lotte’s entertainment. 

Yes, maybe Jens could get used to this quiet bliss.

[halberdierminister]

July Monthly Goals Check-In

1. Write 250 Words Each Day Well, I started out very faithful to this. But sometime around the middle of the month, I got pretty choppy. I honestly don't know exactly how many days I skipped. I'm gonna try to write a fair amount today when I can and hope that it is enough to make up for it. Which is fine. It has been an otherwise very productive month in many other ways, so I cannot be too upset about it. I may start running a wordpress blog with a friend of mine, and if I do that may keep me more on track with these.. We shall see. We shall see.

2. Read 55 Books This Year I finished reading 55 books in May! Last month I read 10 more books. THIS month, however… I read 31 books. That brings me to a total of 97 books read for the year!!! A lot of them have been VERY short books. Lots of poetry collections, manga volumes, graphic novels, etc etc etc. But not exclusively!! I was hoping to get to 100 books by the time I wrote this but the last couple days, I have not been able to make the magic happen. But that's fine! That's TOTALLY FINE. This will be a very significant get, but I have months to get over that hump. By the time you hear from me on this goals check-in next month, I will undoubtedly be decently well over 100 books, and I can talk about why that personally feels so good then!

3. Get A Full Time Job I did not get a full time job this month. BUT. I applied to 38 full time jobs. Got a bunch of rejections. HOWEVER, I have scheduled EXACTLY ONE JOB INTERVIEW so far so that is good news! And that would be a VERY good job if I were to get it! Some of these jobs are actually pretty exciting things and I feel confident for the first time in a while that I might actually find a good job IN MY CAREER PLAN!!!! Also I almost lost my part time job but the library director was able to convince the village to let me stay on as a substitute, and it has paid off surprisingly well. I've been working two to three shifts a week on that, which is more than any of us expected. So I guess what I'm saying is I am making good progress again and I hope I can have something positive to report by the time I'm thirty. Eugh.

4. Move Out Speaking of being almost thirty. I really do not want to be here. If I get the job I interview for, I would be able to move in with my friends in Milwaukee just about as soon as possible. So that is good news. Every day it gets more tempting to just say "screw it" and live down there. But that won't help me find a job. And the job really is the important thing.

5. Drink Less Soda I mean yeah. Occasionally, I drink-a the soda. But not too much. I am good at drinking less soda than I did last year or the years before that. That's because I would have several sodas each day, to the point where it worried some of the people I know.

6. Get Something Published Just found out that I'm getting something else published today! So that is one new poem published this month! I also had my fic in the Lalonde Zine come out, but it turns out that the Lalonde Zine was more of a shared Google Drive folder than an actual zine. Maybe I should offer to compile the zine into one document? I should do that. That would be a good thing to do and it would give me a lot of experience with doing that, something I haven't really done in a while. So the practice would do me good! And then I would feel better saying that I got published there too. But yes so besides the Lalonde fic, I have had two poems published in zines, one poem published in an online literary journal, and one fic published in an online fanzine this year! If you include the articles I wrote for school newspapers, I have gotten at least one thing published every year for the past fifteen years. If you don't count the articles (or the Lalonde fic yet), I have had 30 pieces of fiction and poetry published since 2005! That's pretty neat! I want even more though!!!!!! I found a publisher's website that accepts unsolicited manuscripts. I'm going to try to put together an honest to god actual collection of my poetry, one bigger than either of the two digital chapbooks I have made. I have a friend who is a professional editor -- not of poetry, mind you, but I might be able to convince her to give it a shot -- and I would honestly hire her at full price to take a look at it. I actually will need to seek a lot of feedback from a lot of people, so if you want to read a document full of a bunch of my poetry, lemme know and I will show you what I've got when I've got something.

7. Finish Writing A Legitimate Businessman Finished in April! No new news. But just because I completed this goal doesn't mean that is the end of it! I do still have the sequel to work on, even though I haven't done any of that this month. And one of these days I am going to get around to sitting down with the printed copy and a pen and editing the shit out of it so that I can write draft #2! I think I'll probably throw draft #2 up on wattpad (why not?? I've been curious about that website and know absolutely nothing about it) and maybe I'll make a nice looking e-book out of it that I can distribute on noisetrade or itchio or something! I wonder if I could get it printed on demand or something. Obviously not for profit. But like, maybe I have friends I want to send a nice printed copy to.

8. Write More The Revelation of Takaya According to Jin Finished in Februrary! No new news. A friend of mine has offered to bind a copy of it when he has access to the materials, and I think that'd be dope as hell. I ought to work on compiling it into a nice document. I don't know if that's what he would need. He would probably want to do that work himself. Sometimes I think about the concept of making an illustration for it? I don't know. I can't draw. But I might not need to draw for the thing I have in mind. Really I should be consulting with him on that. Ah well. Either way, I hope that ends up happening. That would be so friggin cool.

MINOR GOALS

9. Finish Playthroughs Of 1. The Legend of Zelda Breath of the Wild: Finished in January! 2. Persona 1 Main Quest Good Ending: I didn't do anything on this whooooops. Getting into the second half of the year without once having touched it. I ought to get back to this. 3. Pokemon Sword: Finished in March! 4. Pokemon Let's Go Eevee: Finished in February and March! 5. Persona Q2: I have finished the fourth dungeon and gotten to The Twist!!! It's weak. This really is the kids' version of a Persona game. Minus like… the fact that it's still rated M for partial nudity. There was exactly one moment of horror and even that was like… just a bit scarier than The Nightmare Before Christmas. But I did some of the side quests and those are actually decently fun. So I have the final dungeon left. I just wanna sort of power through this. I'll worry about completion when I do new game plus, whenever that might be.

10. Record More Ukulele Videos I did not do this. I want a new microphone. These are not inherently related things, as I do have a microphone already. I have everything I need to do this. I just haven't done this. And I would like a new microphone. Also, an amp for the uke would be nice. I should text my old coworker, see if he still has one to sell.

11. Record Let's Plays Neither did I do this. How could I? My parents think video gaming is the Devil's Lettuce. And they are always home. They would notice if they heard me talking to my computer. And that is assuming that I had something I could play on my computer that anyone would want to watch. I need a better computer. A gaming computer. An editing computer. I'm lucky that these are the same thing.

12. Duolingo? I was SUPER gung ho in the end of June and the beginning of July, but before too long I petered out. I've used a couple streak freezes and have really been doing mostly the bare minimum to not drop out of the emerald league. But I've got a streak of about 208 days, and that is nothing to sneeze at! Do I feel like I'm learning? I dunno. But I am at least interacting with Spanish just about every day so that… that's got to be helpful, right? right?

This was over one thousand five hundred words. Wait! Sixteen hundred exactly.

[gone4neow]

The New King ♔ dks

Chapter Six

- kyungsoo x reader, royalty AU, prince!kyungsoo

- warnings : swearing, mature content, arranged marriage, good looking men

- word count : 2,705

chapter five or chapter seven or masterlist

♔ ♔ ♔ ♔ ♔

The princess had went straight to her chambers after her talk with Kyungsoo. She had gotten dressed as if she were going to bed before she had poked her head outside her door and handed her letter to her father to the guards. ‘Deliver this to one of the handmaidens to send off.’ She had shut the door before they could argue that it wasn’t their job to do that. She leaned her ear against the thick wood and tried to listen to their conversation through the door after that. After a few minutes of arguing with one another, the guards agreed to go together to find one of the handmaidens. She smiled in triumph at the sound of their fading footsteps. Anxious to see the prince, she grabbed the box they had discovered yesterday and raced out of the room.

The library was empty just like it had been the first time she had come alone. The princess wasn’t sure what time Kyungsoo would show up, nor was she sure if he would come with good news. Still, she read a book to try and tame her mind as she waited for his arrival. It was an hour and a half later when he bursted through the doors of the library. His eyes scanned the room until they landed on her and she smiled assuringly. He had assumed she wouldn’t come. His relief was visible as his shoulders slackened and his jaw loosened.

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long,” he said quietly as he made his way to where she sat. It was the same chair she had fallen asleep on nights ago. She shut her book, shaking her head as she did so. Before she could stand up from her seat, the prince knelt down in front of her. His hands were placed on the armrests of the chair and his eyes were locked with hers.

“I need to apologize for avoiding you today. I was scared,” he apologized in a voice so soft that the princess almost missed his words. She sat up straighter, with a confused frown on her face.

“Why would you be scared?” She questioned.

“When you walked in with Sehun... the two of you were laughing and enjoying each other’s company. I suppose it was just jealousy but how could I not be jealous when fate has already promised him a marriage to you?” He spoke quicker than she had ever heard him speak before. She understood his fear now. She reach out, hesitantly, and rested the palm of her hand against his soft face. He leaned into her touch and let his eyes close for a moment.

“I thought you regretted yesterday when you wouldn’t look at me,” she confessed in shame. Her cheeks flushed in embarrassment at not recognizing his true frustrations right away.

“No, never,” he told her with a small smile. She laughed quietly and he leaned up so that their lips could meet. She melted into him immediately, letting her hands run down the smooth skin of his neck until she was gripping at his shirt-cladded chest. With a few seconds, she was running her tongue across his plump, bottom lip. Prince Kyungsoo tasted like fresh fruit mixed with the sweet taste of chocolate. She could only guess what snack he had prepared earlier. Whatever it was, she couldn’t get enough. The prince was the first to pull away. He pressed his forehead against hers and breathed in small pants. She could feel every breath rake across her lips. It was intoxicating and she had to stop herself from pulling him back against her lips again so soon.

“What is it you want me to do?” She asked lowly as her eyes searched his. He was silent for a moment and then he muttered one word that she wished he hadn’t. ‘Run.’ She released a shaky breath at his request, knowing it was the one thing she couldn’t give him.

“My kingdom is depending on me. Without me, they may all starve,” she reminded him. Her voice trembled as she spoke, as she knew her words would only disappoint him.

“You’re willing to sacrifice your entire life for your kingdom?” He asked in astonishment. She nodded against his head in response. It was the complete truth. Even if Prince Sehun had turned out to be the worst person to ever exist, she would have still went through with the marriage so that the northern kingdom would help with food supplies.

“You’re going to be an incredible queen,” he mumbled, his voice distant but his words genuine.

“Would you sacrifice your happiness for your kingdom?” The princess couldn’t help but ask.

“If they needed me, yes, but my kingdom is thriving already and they do not need me. They have my brother, after all,” he answered, pulling away from the princess so that he could look down at his hands. She hummed as she considered his words. Even though she knew that Kyungsoo was almost invisible compared to his brother, she found herself wishing she had a brother she could depend on to keep her kingdom alive.

“You brought the box,” he commented in surprise when he seen the black container sitting in the floor next to the chair. He reach out and grabbed it quickly, letting his fingers trace over it like he had yesterday. He had thought about it all night long - it seemed too familiar to him and he didn’t like that. The box gave him an uneasy feeling.

“I told you we would open it together,” The princess told him.

“Here?” He looked up at here with raised eyebrows. She nodded and he looked back down at the box with a frown.

There was a large lock in the middle of it. How could he get this thing open? The princess slipped a few pins from her hair and let it completely fall down against her shoulders. She handed Kyungsoo the pins as if he would know what to do with them, but he only looked at them in confusion. She took the box from him a few seconds later and began to work on picking the lock.

“Where did you learn to pick a lock?” He asked in bewilderment. She glanced up and caught his surprised gaze. A small smile formed on her face.

“There was a man in my village back home that was sent to the dungeons for stealing food. It turns out that he was a master lock picker. I would bring him food, paper, and a pen everyday and he would unlock his cell to draw me a picture while he ate. One day, he taught me how to do it myself,” she told him as her fingers struggled to get the pins to work in their favor.

“Did he know you were the princess?” The prince couldn’t help but ask.

“I told him, but he didn’t believe me. He said that a princess wouldn’t bring a prisoner food,” she answered quietly.

“Most wouldn’t,” the prince agreed. The lock clicked just as he finished speaking. She grinned in delight and shook her head.

“It would appear being different has its benefits then, huh?” She asked playfully, but as he caught her eye he knew she had an underlying meaning to her words. He was different and she thought it was a good thing. He smiled shyly at her before he took the box back and placed it into his lap. She watched as he opened the box, frowning when she saw a bunch of old pieces of parchment. They must’ve been a little over twenty years old from the appearance of them. Kyungsoo took them out and let his eyes skim over them slowly. There were several expressions that formed on his face over the course of a few seconds. He went from joy, to curiosity, to sadness, and then he settled on anger. He tossed the first piece of parchment to the side before he dug through the rest of the box. He felt sick to his stomach as he continued to read them. When it became too much for him to handle, he placed the box in the princess’s lap and stood up from his place on the floor.

The princess watched as he held the back of his hand against his mouth, as if he were anticipating for himself to throw up at any second. She looked down at the pieces of parchment with furrowed eyebrows. What could he possibly have read to react in such a way? Her fingers held the paper up so that she could read it’s contents and quickly they began to tremble. In her hands, she held a birth record that belonged to one very special person: Prince Kyungsoo.

“Oh my god,” she whispered frantically as she continued to skim over the contents of the box. Everything in the box revealed a lie that had been obviously been hidden from everyone in the kingdom. How could anyone manage to hide something this big that well? She couldn’t even comprehend how or why anyone would do that. She placed the box on the floor and approached Kyungsoo’s stiff figure from behind. She wrapped her arms around him and leaned her head against his back.

“My entire life is a lie,” he whispered bitterly. The princess didn’t know what to say in this situation. What was there to say?

“You know this means you’re the one who’s supposed to inherit the throne?” She asked quietly. Perhaps it wasn’t what she should have said in that moment, but it certainly was enough to fuel the fire that Kyungsoo felt in that moment. He turned around quickly, and looked down at the princess with wide, fiery eyes.

“I’m the one that should be inheriting the throne,” he repeated. She looked up at him, wondering if he had secretly been hungry for power this entire time.

“I’m the one that should be marrying you,” he added soon after. She wasn’t sure how she felt. Relieved? Angry? She was definitely hurt for the prince. How dare his parents keep this from him?

“I’m going to marry you. Mark my damn words,” he mumbled as if talking to himself.

“How?” She asked with wide eyes.

“I have a friend in the village. His name is Xiumin - he works in a printshop. I’ll make him make copies of the records and we’ll get them to spread around the village,” he explained his plan to her in one, rushed breath.

“And then?” She wondered.

“It will reach the kingdom. If the universe feels at least an ounce of sympathy for me, then this should work. I’ll turn this whole kingdom against my liar of a father,” he continued. The princess paused for a moment.

“Kyungsoo, the box must belong to your father. We need to hide it before he finds out that we found it,” she told him quickly.

They parted that night with a long, passionate kiss that had left the princess breathless. Kyungsoo took the box with him with the promise that he would hide it in a safe location. The princess trusted his word. The guards were back in their places when she arrived back at her chambers. Fortunately, she had made it right before the shift change. The tired guards were sitting against the wall with their heads laying on top of each other, snoring softly into the night air. She almost laughed, but her racing heartbeat reminded her of her vulnerable position. She tiptoed back to her room in her nightgown and pushed her way back into the room quietly. She made sure to shut the door softly behind her.

The next morning, the princess found herself walking alongside Prince Sehun towards the stables. The sun had only been awake for a few minutes and her rays were already warm against the princess’s exposed skin. Her fingers chased each other in circles as she thought about how the second trip to the village would go. Sure, most of the people had accepted her her for the most part, but she knew that there were more people like the angry woman she had encountered hiding somewhere in the shadows. She couldn’t be upset about the fact that they were so angry that they’d take it out on her. They must be terrified for both themselves and their families that a new king and queen meant big changes, changes that could be potentially worse than what rules were already in place. It made sense for them to be angry. She could remember the torn outfit the woman had been wearing and wondered what kind of kingdom the northern kingdom truly was to leave someone in such a state without trying to help.

All of her worries about the trip seemed to vanish when she saw Prince Kyungsoo in the distance. He was, of course, already at the stables preparing for the ride to the village. Her heart began to beat rapidly in her chest at the sight of the dark haired man working so hard. He shared a smile with one of the stable workers before he caught sight of the princess and his brother walking towards where he stood. He paused for a moment, basking in the sight of the woman he adored so dearly before he turned and made his way back into the barn.

“Princess! Sehun!” She heard a voice called out for her and the man next to her. She turned her head just slightly to see Baekhyun standing near a horse with his hand in the air waving wildly. A grin was on his face as he waved at them and she thought that he looked truly mad. She couldn’t help but laugh a little. Sehun glanced over at her as he waved at Baekhyun lazily. He noticed the princess seemed a lot more relaxed these days than she did when she had first arrived to the northern kingdom. What had changed? He paled at the thought that maybe she had finally fell for him. She ran towards Baekhyun, leaving him alone with his thoughts. He watched as they shared a handshake that they had wasted time coming up with yesterday at dinner. It was like watching two overgrown children interact as they giggled amongst themselves.

“You’re coming with us to the village?” The princess asked Baekhyun.

“That’s right. You won’t have to miss me all day now,” he answered her with a smug expression. He threw a his arm over her shoulders and squeezed her tightly, making her smile. Prince Kyungsoo walked over to where they stood with a horse saddle in his hands. He worked quietly as he put the saddle on Baekhyun’s horse and the princess tried to pull her eyes away from his working figure, but she couldn’t. Even when she felt the weight of Baekhyun’s arm leave her and heard him greet Prince Sehun, her eyes were glued to him. He glanced over at her when the feeling of her stare didn’t leave him. She seen the corners of his lips rise and fall so quickly that it was like it hadn’t happened at all.

“Princess, you don’t mind if we go to the bakery again do you?” Prince Sehun asked her, finally drawing her attention away from Kyungsoo. She glanced up at the man and shook her head.

“No. I have a bad craving for chocolate this morning,” she replied. This time, Kyungsoo couldn’t keep a smile from forming on his face.

The ride to the village consisted of mostly laughter. Baekhyun and the princess seemed to be a gold mine for comedy when mixed together. Instead of just laughing at his jokes, she went along with them. They would go back and forth until they couldn’t speak anymore from the laughter flowing from their chests. Everyone was getting along for the first time. Kyungsoo even spoke more than he usually did, much to everyone’s surprise. The princess’s only complaint was that she wasn’t on the back of Striker. She sat behind Sehun, who seemed to be in a better mood this morning than he had all week.

[beomgyuslittleheart-blog]

Masuri Suri

Stage magician Taegyu au 

Chapter 1: What is this, the 90′s?

Taehyun had managed to avoid the displeasure of meeting the Dazzling Beomgyu until Kai forcibly dragged him to his show. Now that he had, he couldn't get the blonde's obnoxious smirk out of his head.

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19286425

The best way Taehyun could describe Beomgyu's style of magic is flashy. Like a Las Vegas nightclub magician, he's always promoting his daring new stunts that make 'sawing a person in half' look tame. His latest performance has him miraculously escaping a set of padlocked chains from within a locked car that is slowly being crushed. Like he said, flashy.

Taehyun's magic is certainly more understated. He doesn't even perform regularly, preferring to pull coins from behind children's ears and making cards disappear on a whim, enjoying the amusing reactions of his impromptu audiences. He tends to be casual about it, though he's obviously skilled. See, magic means something to him; it's not a toy or a trick or a way to make money. It's not about deception. To Taehyun, magic is the art of making people happy, of reminding them that there is still wonder in the world.

He doesn't keep up with the local scene, but he's familiar enough to know about the Dazzling Beomgyu. It'd be hard not to; flyers for his performances paper the exterior of every club and venue in a hundred mile radius. It is definitely not Taehyun's type of magic, too much spectacle and no finesse. Yet he begrudgingly finds himself in the audience of one of Beomgyu's shows at the behest of his friend Kai.

Kai was a few months younger than him, which Taehyun made sure to use to his advantage whenever necessary. The two had met while Taehyun was practicing his card tricks at the park. Kai had walked right up to him and sat down in the grass at the boy's feet. His eyes glistened with fascination, following every trace of a spade or diamond. That same look graced Kai's soft features tonight, his fingers curling around the edge of his seat. He held his breath while the jaws of a compactor press down on the body of a cherry red convertible. Truthfully, Taehyun can't help but feel more concerned for the car than the man. What a waste of a perfectly usable car.

Within minutes, the windows on the convertible begin to shatter, the sound echoing against the hushed crowd. At the very last second before the steel buckles under the pressure, Beomgyu presses himself out of the shrinking hole where the windshield used to be. With an exaggerated wrist flourish, he bows to thunderous applause as the car is destroyed behind him.

Taehyun knew Beomgyu would escape, knows exactly how he escaped, but for Kai's benefit he feigns wonder when he shoots him a look of open mouthed astonishment. He knows from his body language that Beomgyu escaped the chains approximately 10 seconds before he jumped out the window, and wonders whether the man used slack in the chains or just standard lock-picking. He can't help but roll his eyes at the audience, so easily impressed by gaudy showmanship!

Suddenly, he feels himself being dragged to his feet and into the throng of people pushing forward towards the stage. "Come on, he said he'd do signings after the show!!" Kai waves a photocard of Beomgyu in his face. He's wearing a top hat, red jacket with coattails, and has a small white rabbit perched in his arms. Taehyun cringes. What is this, the 90's? He didn't sign up for this, but he sighs and resigns himself to being pulled through the crowd. Kai may look gentle but he could have a death grip when he wanted to. Better to just play along.

Staff forms a hasty line along the wall of the venue reaching towards a small table behind which Beomgyu sits, the remnants of wrist chains clanking lightly as he gestures broadly to the woman in front of him. It is impossible for Taehyun to take this man seriously, but he'll suffer and wait in line for Kai's sake.

He had intended to get out of line once Kai was gestured forward by staff to get their signature, but he found himself pinned to the wall as a group of teens rushed pass him, excitedly showing off their own signed cards to one another. Before he can walk away, there's a sharp tap on his shoulder. Turning, he sees a staff member ushering him towards the red clothed signing table. "Oh, no, I'm not-" he tries to clarify, but the staff member has already pushed him forward and begins readying the next person in line.

Despite his desire to entertain, Taehyun isn't exactly good with people. He spends more time perfecting techniques than performing, and he needs amble time to hype himself up before any event. Even in non-magic situations, he can be a bit of a wallflower, preferring observation over interaction. It wasn't that he didn't like people, after all they make up every audience. He just...couldn't seem to connect with anyone, or maybe it was that no one was able to connect with him. A classic chicken and the egg question, with the answer proving just as pointless. He didn't have many friends, Kai being his closest. Connecting seemed irrelevant to Kai, the boy could emotionally connect with a stuffed rabbit. Still, it's nice to have some companionship and Taehyun is grateful for his friendship. Grateful enough to come to this god awful performance and be forced to talk to the blonde haired hack calling himself a magician. Before he can steady himself, Taehyun is already standing in front of the table.

"Hi, thanks for coming to my show! Dazzling, wasn't it?" Beomgyu asks in a cheery voice. A brilliant smile graces his lips as he holds out a hand for whatever it is he needs to sign.

"Oh, I um, I don't have anything to sign..." Taehyun stammers, patting his pockets futilely.

"No worries, this is why we have backups!" Beomgyu pulls a glossy 4 x 5 photograph from beneath the table, flicking it between his fingers several times before making it vanish. "Oops! Must've lost it!" he giggles, before calmly pulling it out from behind his back. Beomgyu had expected a chuckle at the very least, but Taehyun's utter lack of a reaction throws him off balance, his smile faltering. Quickly, he grabs the pen and scribbles his signature across the photo before thrusting it at Taehyun, who does not reach for it.

"I know how you did it." He says flatly.

"Pardon?"

"Escaping the chains. Easy stuff, a five year old could do it. Did you really need to destroy a car, though?"

Beomgyu's eyes narrow as he clears his throat. His arm starts to twitched as he continues to hold out the signed photograph that this indignant man is making no motion to take. "All part of the show, sir, although I assure you the car was not in workable condition despite it's beautiful outward appearance." Still Taehyun does not move. Frustrated, Beomgyu shakes the photo at him. His voice deepens with a subtle warning, "Sir, there are others waiting."

Taehyun can't explain the lurching frustration that's causing heat to flush his cheeks. He yanks the photo from the Beomgyu's hand, startling the blonde. He crumples it harshly before throwing it down onto the table with distaste. Beomgyu furrows his brows, becoming visibly annoyed. Taehyun smashes both his hands down on the balled up paper with a loud bang. Waiting a beat, and without ever breaking eye contact, he pulls his hands away slowly, revealing the perfectly smooth signed photograph.

Beomgyu's mouth gapes slightly as he stares down at his crinkle-free signature, unsure of how to react to the situation. A staff member moves to escort the small but threatening man away, but before they can reach him Beomgyu holds up his hand, signaling for them to wait. He glances up at the Taehyun, his eyes glinting and a red tint creeping up his throat. Snatching the photo, he scribbles on it quickly and thrusts it into Taehyun's hands by force. Instantly, he's signaling staff and a strong hand grabs Taehyun's arm and pushes him away from the table at a brisk pace. His mouth hanging open in surprise, Taehyun turns in time to watch Beomgyu plaster a smile across his face, already welcoming the next person in line.

Despite repeated protests, the staff walks him all the way across the venue to the exit. "I get it, I get it, I'm leaving...God.." Taehyun scoffs, wrenching his arm free. Luckily Kai had been waiting for him. Unluckily his face flashed with annoyance.

"Do you really have to try to show off to every magician you meet, Taehyun?" His voice is a few notes lower than usual. "You do this every time!" he yells, stamping his feet childishly.

Taehyun bristles. "I'd hardly call that magic." He stares blankly at the floor, shame pooling in his chest though he'd never admit it.

"Ugh, whatever, let's just go.." Reaching into his bag, Kai draws out a set of keys and begins walking toward the parking lot.

After a moment, Taehyun remembers the photograph in his hand and scans the area for the closest trashcan. As he is about to toss it into the bin, he catches sight of what Beomgyu had so viciously slashed into the paper before forcing him to take the gaudy thing. His mouth drops open.

Carved into the photo, right below the white rabbit, is a phone number.

[tranqueenila]

Innuendo.

May 15, 2018. 11:45 PM.

Dear diary,

The day went just as usual. I attended the lectures, I did my chores, I had a workout session from 4:00 to 5:00 PM, joining in the pilates. Nothing special really happened, not really. But there was something that caught my attention. Again, it was not very special. At least not until I really figured it out. During my break, I was damn ravenous that I ran my way to the café straight away just to remember that I left my wallet in my locker. So I did. I turned around, got to my locker, unlocked it and something dropped. It was a piece of paper, probably folded three times that it became smaller— small enough to be able to slip through the slit. I opened the paper and ‘I love your smile’ was inked onto the sheet. There was a little ‘K’ in slight cursive at the bottom, perhaps it was the initial of this anonymous sender. It was too cute, diary. I would be lying if I said I didn’t smile immediately, but I didn’t know who this was. Still very clueless about it. It could be harmful, too. But that was what it was. Until then. Jane’s signing out.

***

May 22, 2018. 10:00PM.

Dear diary,

Let’s skip the boring bits. I received another anonymous note, probably no, definitely from the same person. This time, they wrote ‘I love how you’d blush while reading my note too’ and I swear to God I frantically turned around to scan my surrounding. I’m pretty prominent at school, almost everybody knows me but I don’t. I don’t even know if the sender was a girl or a guy. Could it be.. Krystal? Hell no, she’s my best friend and she’s dating our senior, Hyunsik. K... mm. Kai? No, no. But what I want to clarify here is that, I’m not even into relationships, but this is pretty fun. Isn’t it? I’m looking forward for more notes tomorrow. Ugh, I can’t help but to draw out an imaginary figure out of this. Until then, diary! Jane’s signing out!

***

May 29, 2018. 11:00PM.

Dear diary,

I GOT ANOTHER NOTE BUT THIS TIME IT’S A GAME ON. Damn. I got another note. Two, in fact. One said ‘And the way you’d find me in the crowd, clueless and adorable’. Huft.

And another one, ‘Let’s play a game, Jennie love. Tomorrow, during the break, go to the café. Order your favourite drink. This is a perilous mission, because you see, you don’t know me. Yet. But I know you. My knowledge might be limited and I’d say the game’s over if you choose a different drink, though I know you’re keen to know who I am. See you, princess.’

CRAZY. That’s all for today, diary. I need to sleep to be able to do well (for what, really?) tomorrow. Jane’s signing out while yelling! K!

***

MAY 30, 2018.

The alarm rang in Jennie’s ears, putting a halt to her beauty sleep and made her eyes sprung open in a split second. She was dreaming about her secret admirer and she couldn’t help but to feel butterflies in the pit of her stomach. Rolling on her stomach, she gazed out through the transparent curtains that hung low on her window panel. It was still dark outside, understandable since it was 06:00 in the morning. Too early, she knew. But she had to make sure she didn’t run late to school today. She had to make sure she looked good, and all those weird stuffs that she never really cared about before. She was never a fan of going all-out for an outfit, but damn, she dressed to kill. She could wear a pair of button-up pants with a croptop, a thin cardigan and would still pull that look off. People often called her the woman of fashion, the walking gucci. No doubts though, she gave those vibes. And perhaps, she would make a good use of that today.

Pushing herself off the bed, she tidied up the bed, pulling on the comforters before dashing her way to the bathroom. It was a good morning shower; warm and refreshing. Definitely a good way to kick off her day. 06:40AM, and she was clad in black cropped knitted sweaters with a pair of leggings that hugged her slim legs far too perfectly. Not bad, she hushed. Once she was satisfied with her daily look, she grabber her bag and jumped her way downstairs. The last thing she heard was her mom’s ‘Be home safe, darling!’ before the door was shut behind her.

Sure, mom. It’s gonna be a long day.

—

Jennie idly tapped the back of the pen against her notebook, eyes following the slides that her lecturer had been showing for the past one hour. It bored the hell out of her. Politic was her least favourite subject, the one she would definitely drop without having the second thought. But now she had to sit for two hours, listening to rambles about this and whatnots. People cannot really blame her though. The lecturer’s voice itself was able to put her to sleep.

But no, not that day. She just couldn’t stop thinking about the notes, the hints. What, was she gonna buy the drink and this ‘K’ person would come out, serving the drink for her? Or, would this person be there too, so that they can have this cliché moment of putting the same order? Or, or—

Enough, Jennie, shush!

She shook her head, trying her best to bring her full attention back to the lesson. The smile that was once on her lips broadened, cheeks obviously reddened, leaving her soft and mushy in her seat while thinking of the possibilities that might occur in this so-called game. It was not even long (or maybe it was, she just lost track of time) until the bell rang and the class was soon dismissed. It was hella quick, as if God heard her undying prayers but that didn’t really matter.

Quickly, she got up from her seat, her cheerful visage could not hide the indescribable feelings that she contained in her big heart as she paved her way to the café. She was glancing around the colossal venue more often than not, obviously attempting to feed her curiosity about this person: the person that made her feel things just by dropping anonymous notes in her locker, the person that she had been writing about very constantly in her diary for the past two weeks. She had to meet them, whoever it may be. She had to. Without herself realising, she was already standing in front of the counter, eyes raking over the menu list on the wall although it was pointless because she knew exactly what her favourite drink was.

“Yes, Miss?” Came a voice of the person behind the counter. It was the same middle-aged lady, the one who had always been serving whenever Jennie dropped by.

“Iced lemonade, please.” She said, keeping herself poised as always with a cordial smile spread across her face, in which was gladly mirrored by the lady before she disappeared to make her drink. After a while, she came back and handed it to Jennie. It was the same bottle, the same texture, the same colour. Probably had the same taste too. There was nothing special, everything was the same— not until she noticed something written just a little below the logo. It said ‘Gotchu. Move to the assemble hall, see ya’, and those words caused Jennie to frown. In a good way, maybe. So demanding, she heaved.

But she did it, anyway. She turned on her heels and paced towards the addressed venue, at the same time sipping on her drink. It was fresh and energising, lifting Jennie’s insides in great sensation that never failed to make her happy. Maybe too happy, even, as she began to jump on her steps lightly. It was as if the short journey was accompanied by the rhythm of an anime’s opening song, clearly affecting Jennie’s already vivacious emotions. She rounded the final corner and there she was, in the middle of the empty hall.

Odd.

She pouted, trying to find the glimpse of anybody that might pass by. It was a spacious hall, and it was gonna take her the entire day to go through everything. She was about to exit though, thinking that it was too much of a task for her to do before she actually noticed a bouquet of flower at the side of the door, gaze drawing up just to see a big arrow pointing to the left with a big ‘This way, princess!’ atop. Look, Jennie hated to admit this but god damn it, this whole thing was so cute? Precious little being this person was.

“Coming,” Jennie breathed, hugging the bouquet close to her chest before she followed the direction. There was an opened door ahead of her, and she stepped in thinking that it was the only way. The moment she stepped in, she was greeted with a white blinding wall with tiny arrows about half of her height; horizontally arranged to continue guiding the petite girl in order to find her way out. It was just like the store room, but a week ago, the students council decided to paint ‘em new. Scratch that, it was not so important. Out of curiosity, she followed on, and she found another exit at one end of the room.

Jennie enjoyed every little ride, with cute little hints here and there, now and then. But this was getting too much. She wanted to know! Immediately, Jennie twisted the doorknob and extricated herself, warmly welcomed by the rays of sunlight and the greenery grass. It was a whole new dimension honestly, compared to the surrounding in the building. Everything was so exquisite, but the little box in the middle of the garden was the highlight of her view. It was a tiny box, not so tiny but a palm-sized box, tied with a white balloon. Cute.

She crouched forward, and the moment she was on her feet again, she felt a taller figure standing in front of her. She just knew it was gonna be someone taller by the look of this person’s shadow enveloping hers. Now that the chance was just before her, Jennie couldn’t bring herself to lift her head. Heck, she felt like she had no strength to do it. Scared? A bit, maybe. Nervous? Definitely. All these feelings were mixing that she felt as if her stomach was lifted up to her throat. You can do this, Jennie. You can, you will. Just lift your head and—

“Princess?” was heard. It was the voice of a male. So it was a he. She stayed silent, hand gripping the bottle of lemonade while biting her lower lip hard. She could barely produce any sound, but after a little debate whether or not to respond, she managed to hum out in reply.

“Aren’t you curious about your, uh, secret admirer?” He asked, and Jennie could tell that he tipped his head to one side. She could even imagine that he was raising his brows with an amused smile on his face. Ugh.

“O— of course. I mean,” Jennie said in a mere whisper, is now fiddling with the ribbon that tied the bouquet lightly. She was very positive that she blushed madly at this rate, but she stayed on nonetheless as she observed the movement of his shadow. His shadow. Right, she didn’t know his name yet.

“Lift up your head. Look at me.” He commanded, his hands were slipped into the pockets of his pants as he waited patiently. Jennie took a deep breath, coaxing herself in silent voice before she obeyed; lifting her head a degree each second, eyes still squeezed closed until she felt like she had faced him. Her eyes were shut, lips pressed into a thin line as she breathed out a quiet ‘done’.

The stranger shook his head, clicking on his tongue with a swift “Nu’uh, princess, open up”. Without any warning, Jennie felt the pad of his thumb caressing her eyelid, taking her by surprise but she didn’t even flinch. It took the last bits of her sanity for her to finally peer her eyes open, slowly drawing the outline of the man in front of her; it started as a silhouette, blurry figure came into view until she finally saw him in person. And holy cow.

It was Daniel. Kang Daniel.

Jennie gasped, taking a step backwards with her eyes widened. Here’s the story. Daniel was one of the most outstanding students there. He excelled in studies, sports, everything. He had a great built body, not too broad, not too big but just perfect for someone around his height, that full attractive face that seemed like it was perfectly crafted by God himself. Everything about him was surreal that he might as well been God’s best creature. And nobody knew this but Jennie had always been admiring him, having a masive crush on this guy. She would always drop by the field to watch him play, sometimes peeking through the window of his classes, and weird, stalk-worthy stuffs like that. Never once in her wildest dream she would ever think Daniel could be her secret admirer— she never even thought of that. But now, here he was, standing like three feets before her, eyes meeting hers with that dazzling smile that caused her heart to skip a beat. It was thumping so hard and loud against her ribcage that she was afraid that it might can be heard by the latter. Grinning, Daniel inched his face closer.

“Well. .” He said, scratching the back of his nape awkwardly with the same smile. It was obvious that she caught Jennie staring at him more often than not, causing him to feel a little shy under the powerful girl’s gaze. “Um, it’s me. Daniel. Kang Daniel, if you don’t know what the K stands for.” He continued, chuckling at how dumbfounded and speechless she was. He gave her another minute to digest the information, and when she seemed to relax a little, Daniel added on. “Open the box, please.”

Jennie did, fumbling on the box at first. She felt like everything was in a slow motion, so it took her longer to process what he was saying. With a swift flick, a ring was seen. It was silver, shining, with a little diamond on top. She gasped, meeting Daniel’s gaze again in confirmation as he gestured the small folded note in the box. This guy was full of mysteries, rather pouring out his feelings into words instead of saying them out loud. Jennie, more than delighted to do it, unfolded the paper and she read it out loud for both of them.

“Will you be my girlfriend. .?”

Jennie gasped for the nth times, holding the ring in her thumb while looking up at Daniel again. He was red; probably embarrassed too to confess without any warning. She was about to ask him before he silenced her down, quickly got into the post to explain everything.

“Hey, I. . I understand if it’s too soon. But I’ve adored you since ever you came in. I couldn’t help but to watch you every time you got into the class, put down your bag first and took out your notebook then lastly your pencil case. I couldn’t help but to eye your choice of food and drink in café; how you’d purse your lips and tap your chin when you had to make a choice. I couldn’t help but to have a crush on you. I noticed how you’ve been dropping by to watch me— no, maybe not me in particular, but I hoped it was for me that you stopped by the field. I noticed everything and it took everything I had to finally slip in the notes in your locker. It took my entire self confidence to even started this game! So. . will you be my girlfriend, Jennie? I promise I will make you happy. I even learnt how to make a great lemonade to give to you and—”

“Yes, I do.” Jennie said, cutting him short. Her answer seemed to catch him offguard, from the way his eyes wandered bewilderedly in surprise.

“W— what?” He stuttered, his ears reddened.

“I said, yes. I do. I want to be your girlfriend.” Jennie repeated, this time with a wide smile. She couldn’t help the blush creeping up her cheeks but it reached the peak of her emotions when Daniel suddenly whooped her up into his arms, hugging her frame close to him while spinning her around. It was a joyful moment to cherish, both of them holding each other as the bouquet fell on the ground. Neither of them wanted to let go though, by now Jennie had her arms around his neck to support herself.

“My girlfriend.” Daniel cooed, stopping the pirouette while pressing his lips on the side of her head, nose dipping through some loose strands of her hair to inhale her shampoo scent. Those words brought a smile to her lips. Who thought that would be true? Knowing your crush was having a big fat crush on you and now having your crush hugging you so tightly in his arms? Jennie couldn’t relate because she was living that moment right now. “I love you.”

Frankly, Jennie had never been someone who got into relationships often. By now, she had only one ex, probably, and it was about four years ago. She felt like relationships need so much commitments that she couldn’t give. But now. . hearing those three words coming from someone that she had been admiring so lovingly for so long, being held in his arms protectively as if she was the only valuable thing ever existed in this cruel world, too small, too soft, too fragile that he was afraid even the wind could break her apart— she knew it herself that she loved him too. She loved the feeling of love that she had at the moment.

“I love you too, Daniel.” Their lips met, eyes closing in pure ectasy before she pulled away to resume her words. “I love you so much. Thank you for dropping the hints.”

“Always, baby.”

“Always.”

[umbraastaff]

I Saw Seven Bounties

CHAPTER 9: THE DEAL II: FACES

[first] [prev] [next] [recent]

[Ao3]

[Thank you to fivebrights (AO3/Tumblr) for beta reading!]

***

Barry keeps picking through the abandoned buildings, flipping through his notebook, and being generally weird. Kravitz watches with mild interest, trying to understand why he keeps a pair of work gloves but leaves the boots, why he clicks every pen to decide whether to take it without ever testing the writability. Maybe his notebook is actually a shopping--er, scavenging--list.

While the lich is trying hard to open a crate without going overboard with the force used, Kravitz speaks up. “It’s, er, been nearly an hour, now. Have you made any progress towards the bell?”

“Oh, shoot!” Barry waves a hand with a spell gesture Kravitz doesn’t recognize. “I-I got distracted. Didn’t mean to, uh, t-to make you wait.”

Kravitz just shrugs. “It’s only one day; I’ll survive a little boredom.” Especially if he gets Barry’s soul at the end of it. He almost regrets reminding Barry of the objective, but he isn’t one to play dirty. “What was that spell, just now?”

“Huh? O-Oh, uh, this?” Barry repeats the hand movement, and Kravitz nods. “It’s just Timer, a-a cantrip. I did the--I set it for, uh, twenty-three hours.”

The reaper tilts his head. “Odd. I don’t imagine myself to be out of touch with modern magic, but I don’t think I’ve heard of it.”

“Really? I wouldn’t--I mean, it’s not very new, but…” he thinks for a moment. “Oh, oh, shoot! Right. It’s not f-from around here. It’s… I think we made that one, actually.”

“You… make spells?” Kravitz makes a mental note to add another goddamn discipline to Barry Bluejeans’ ever-growing list of masteries.

“Oh, I mean…” Barry twiddles his thumbs. “N-Not well enough to have--to make a job of it, or a-anything. Just, uh, some little spells t-to fill niches. It’s fun to figure them out.”

“Impressive.” Kravitz means it.

Barry looks surprised. “I-I mean, it’s just a cantrip. You could even--I can teach it to you, uh, if you’d like. If you can do wizard spells…?”

“I’m afraid what magic I have that isn’t granted by the Raven Queen is done through music.”

“Oh, bardic magic?” Barry brightens up. “I used to--I’ve dabbled in that. Maybe I can figure something out for it. I-I’ll get back to you.”

“Alright, then,” Kravitz says skeptically. Barry can do plenty of things, but he wonders how much skill the lich has in music.

Barry scribbles something else in his notebook--a reminder, perhaps--and then snaps it shut. “O-Okay! So! First place I’m checking is, uh, just a bit east of Neverwinter. I found--I got wind of some, uh, questionable activities there.”

“Well, I doubt you’ll do well with my method of teleportation, and I’m not letting you port me,” Kravitz says, “So how about we just meet at the east gate?”

Barry gives him a thumbs up and vanishes in a flash of red light. Kravitz sighs, draws his scythe, and presses it into the space between planes. He dips briefly into the Astral Plane before pulling back into the Material, just in time to see a flash of red lightning at the east gate of Neverwinter, coalescing into the brightly-colored silhouette of Barry Bluejeans.

Barry’s face is halfway skeletal when he appears, but his illusory skin is already rapidly regenerating. Whatever illusion he’s using must operate similarly to a ‘concentration’ spell, or else his teleportation wouldn’t interrupt it.

“I don’t see why you don’t just use Disguise Self,” Kravitz remarks as Barry leads him away from the city. “Seems like it would be easier.”

Barry raises an eyebrow. “I--Well, it doesn’t really--I mean, d-do you use Disguise Self for your face--your body? Does that work?” He sounds skeptical, but the question is genuine enough.

“No,” Kravitz admits. “The Raven Queen grants me the power for this form, among other things. It isn’t a spell with a name. But you… Well, it just seems overly complicated for you to use some other magic when Disguise Self is such a simple spell.”

“Hm… Here, I-I’ll just show you how the--show you what Disguise Self does.” Barry snaps his fingers, and a ripple of magic crosses his face. His expression abruptly turns rigid and neutral, eyes staring emptily into space. When he speaks again, his mouth doesn’t move.

“This spell m-maps the body’s movements--links them to the illusion. Which is also why y-you can only look like creatures with the same, uh, same basic form. So, actual movements w-work fine,” he wiggles his fingers to demonstrate, “but my face is j-just a skull. There isn’t any--there’s no movement to take hold of for the spell.”

“I see,” Kravitz says, nodding. “That must be why so few liches put on faces.”

Barry laughs a little as he snaps his fingers again, restoring the proper illusion to his face. “I mean… th-the skull face also adds to the, uh, the edgy aesthetic.”

“Of course,” Kravitz rolls his eyes. “A mockery of the symbols of the Raven Queen’s domain, for nothing but a little spookiness.”

“O-Oh, come on,” Barry crosses his arms. “She may have reign over when people die, b-but the right to be--to mock the concept of death, that’s--I’d say it belongs to people who actually will die.” He hesitates. “And... in a sense, have died.”

“Oh? And how do you expect to die, Barry, with your soul modified so?”

“You, obviously.” Barry gives Kravitz a flat look. “Eventually. B-But even without that, really, a lich is just a s-spliced up version of something mortal. Y-You can’t act like any of us would last as long as a god. I-I’d fade long before the-the entire concept of death fades as a godly domain.”

Kravitz blinks. He has no response to that; he’s used to liches acting as though they’ll last for an eternity. Instead, after a bit of a pause, he says, “Hmm. You said the Bell is out here?”

“Ah, yeah,” Barry perks up again. “Phoebe lives near here. Sh-she’s… If she has it, she’d probably b-be making really good use of it. In-in a bad way.”

“Phoebe…?”

“Uh, Phoebe Tipper?” Barry says, but Kravitz stays confused. “She’s been cycling souls in and out of th-the Astral Plane f-for--for years, almost weekly.”

Kravitz squints. That does sound vaguely familiar. “Dead Ends?”

“That’s--Oh, yeah. That’s her... business name, I-I guess? Pretty d-dramatic, right?”

“You know where Dead Ends lives?”

“I, uh. I know where a lot of people live,” Barry says, picking through the increasingly-dense trees and brush, “On account of not t-trying to, uh, murder them.”

Kravitz keeps following him. If this isn’t a ruse, then this whole deal might not end up a waste after all. Dead Ends doesn’t really fit the bill for who they think was in possession of the Animus Bell, but she’ll be quite a catch even without it.

Eventually, Barry stops and peers through the trees. “There’s Phoebe’s place. C-can you see it?”

Kravitz leans near Barry to follow his apparent line of sight, but he can’t see anything besides regular forest. And he can’t sense any other necrotic energy, either. “Not with your lich magic stuffing up my senses.”

Barry laughs a little. “M-My bad. It’s p-probably boxed, too, though.”

“Boxed?”

“O-Oh, slang, sorry. It means, uh, there’s a shield k-keeping radiant energy out, like agents of gods. You. I can get rid of it, though.”

“So… you’re able to remove it? And you’re willing to remove it?”

“Yep,” Barry says, and although Kravitz leaves the space for it, he offers no further explanation. Instead, his hands start moving in a practiced pattern, with bones showing through the illusory skin every time he makes a quicker motion. Kravitz can feel the energy as he cuts through the air, and he takes a step back to give it room.

Once he’s done, the lich points through the trees again. “S-See it now?”

The area looks blurry, now. Kravitz blinks hard a few times, and it clarifies into a house, as though it had been there the entire time. It blends in well with the forest, sure, but it’s not exactly missable. “Wow.”

“Yeah, p-pretty impressive how she stretched th-that spell over the entire house,”

Kravitz nods, still staring at the building. It’s half taken over by the plants and vines around it, and he has to wonder if that was intentionally invoked by magic, or if the house really is that ancient.

“Okay, w-well, she probably does--probably checks security, uh, regularly, so… N-Now or never.” He’s twitching, just slightly, in that way he does when he’s having strong feelings.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m--yeah.” It comes out tense.

Kravitz starts to take a step forward, but hesitates again. “Barry. This isn’t… you’re not trying to trick me, are you?” His eyes widen as he realizes. “If I leave your side, it could technically be in violation of our contract…”

Barry looks genuinely surprised. “Uh, I-I guess? I wasn’t--I didn’t mean to trick you, though. I’m telling you where I th-think the Bell is. Of course you need to--need time to check it out. I mean…” he shrugs. “If you don’t go, a-and it turns out the Bell was there, then--then you’d be breaking the terms, right?”

Kravitz frowns. “I suppose…”

“Look, th-the whole contract got way--absurdly contrived. I-I promise you I’m not trying to pull one over on ya.”

Kravitz takes a long look at his face, which is decidedly less twitchy, and nods. “As much as I hate to admit it, I trust you, to this small extent.” He looks back towards the house, ignoring a glimpse of Barry’s face brightening up.

He surveys the house carefully as he steps between the trees. Staying on the side that their shadows are pointed, he’s nearly invisible. He sheds his skin and wills his steps silent, approaching the front door.

Kravitz sinks into darkness and slips under the front door, feeling the sickening aura of necrotic energy intensifying every second. He can’t feel any wards, though, and most skilled evildoers have them aplenty; Barry must have really been thorough with dismantling them. He stands up inside the house and looks around.

It’s a nice place, if a little cluttered and a lot evil. Candles and chalk line the shelves alongside more conspicuous ritual supplies. Magical artifacts are among them, but he doesn’t feel the power of a grand relic within this home. He does, however, feel the presence of a soul that’s been on his bounty list for a few months now.

Surprisingly, following the presence takes him away from the passive necrotic magic in the basement--she must be making bodies. He heads up the stairs and down a hall, ignoring the few framed photos along the walls. They aren’t his business, and would only serve to make this difficult. Finally, slowly, Kravitz turns the doorknob that he knows his target is waiting behind. He has the advantage here.

So of course he’s startled when he’s tackled the instant he opens the door. She dodges his alarmed scythe swing and his back hits the ground. Phoebe is barely recognizable as human, but up close, Kravitz can see that she’s made of human pieces. There are too many eyes and arms in all the wrong places, but they’re all human. And so is her soul: a hellish amalgam of other humans’ lives, stolen from the Astral Plane for her own power. He’d be impressed if he wasn’t disgusted.

Kravitz kicks her off with an undignified yelp, feeling soul magic turned abrasive burning him where they made contact. Jumping up, he extends his power through the room, turning the dim atmosphere to darkness and willing it to encroach on the monstrous figure. Wisely, she backs up towards the lightest part of the room: the window.

“Phoebe Tipper,” Kravitz says, voice thick with his work accent, “You’ve been a tricky one, ‘aven’t ya?”

Phoebe shakily looks out the window, then back to Kravitz. Instead of panic, he sees a grin made of far too many teeth. “Reaper,” she rasps in several voices at once, “You’re outnumbered.” And then she kicks off from the floor and crashes through the second-story window.

Kravitz rushes forward and looks through the shattered glass. The monster is rushing down the path in front of the house, towards a hooded figure clad in bright red. He’s waving to Phoebe, beckoning her.

Kravitz curses--Barry, Phoebe, his own foolishness. Why would Barry do this? Why give him someone’s location only to save her? Did Barry suddenly realize she didn’t have the Bell, and decide to sabotage him? Is this a trap?

He leaps out the window anyway, breaking his fall on soft shadows and running towards his runaway catch, though he’s sure Barry will have her gone within seconds.

Surprise slows Kravitz down when he gets close enough to see Barry meeting his eyes, giving him a strange look. The hand he’s waving with abruptly clenches into a fist, and there’s a bolt of red lightning that shoots up from the ground and overtakes Phoebe. She collapses, stunned but not dead, and screeches profane curses of traitorousness.

Kravitz stops altogether. Barry looks at him. “H-Hey, uh, are you gonna do your job? I c--I can’t hold this for long--”

Snapping out of it, Kravitz crosses the remaining distance with a few short strides. Barry steps back as he pulls out his scythe, tearing Phoebe’s many souls out of this Plane with a clean slice. It’s the easiest that’s been in a while.

Then he stares at Barry. “I didn’t expect you to actively help.”

“Oh, c-come on,” Barry says. “She--she killed people! A-And used their--she took their souls and powered herself with innocent--used people who weren’t even willing, and even if th-they were, I’d question it--”

“So you do have morals,” Kravitz says, with half-feigned surprise.

Barry isn’t amused. “I don’t kill people, Kravitz! I just--the only soul I’ve e-ever tampered with is mine, a-and I really--I only use bodies that are already dead, wh-when I need to.”

“Shame,” Kravitz rolls his eyes. “If you had just stayed away from your soul, I wouldn’t have had to hunt you.”

“A-And we wouldn’t have met,” Barry shrugs. “You don’t--I mean, you’re a pretty okay guy when yo-you’re not trying to kill me.”

Before Kravitz can respond, Barry continues, “So is the Animus Bell in there?”

“Ah, no. Can’t feel anything on par with Grand Relic power here.”

“That’s too bad,” Barry says, in a tone that leans towards sympathy. As though he’s more bummed out for Kravitz’s sake than his own. He pulls out his notebook again and starts flipping through it.

“I wonder what gave them so much power,” Kravitz says idly.

“They’re m-made of the same thing--same stuff that made the omniverse,” Barry says without missing a beat. “The, uh, inspiration for o-our existence, in an… abstract sense. That’s why, uh, why they have--why people want to use ‘em so bad.”

“What? What makes you so sure?”

Barry doesn’t appear to have heard him, and instead says, “So, hey, w-where’s the line? I mean, on what’s… unacceptable? Liches are bad, Phoebe’s body-hopping is bad, but you--I could’ve sworn that-that you said zombies are fine, before.”

“Right,” Kravitz says. “Animated corpses--zombies, as you say--have no soul. They are, I would say, disrespectful to the dead, but not illegal. They don’t disrupt the balance of life and death. But, well, moving your soul--or others’ souls--out of your body, modifying them, or stealing them from the Astral Plane… any of those things serve to extend a life beyond its natural course. It creates an imbalance.”

“But we all--everything dies anyway, though, right? Even liches w-would decay eventually. Who cares if I’m around a little longer?”

Kravitz sighs. “The balance of the world isn’t just about death, it’s about the natural order of fate. Fate is married to Death, and altering either can mess with the process of the other. You know, the same reason time travel is generally considered to be extremely dangerous.”

“For the sake o-of conversation, and, uh, a little curiosity,” Barry says, “What d-does it--what exactly does it mess up? What does balance being out of whack a-actually do?”

“It’s…” Kravitz falters briefly. “It isn’t mortal business, Barry. Not our business. It has to do with my superior’s work, not my own.”

“She isn’t…” Barry frowns. “Well, nevermind.”

“Oh, no, I’d like to hear this.”

“It wouldn’t be good of m-me to… I mean, I don’t know a whole l-lot about her. But I-I do know that gods, i-in a, uh, strictly general sense, a-aren’t infallible,” Barry says, choosing his words delicately, without even the decency to sound arrogant. “But I shouldn’t… it’s n-not my place to say.”

There’s a hint of a wry laugh in his voice as he adds, “I-I can’t justifiably c-comment on the, uh, the balance of this world when we d-did such a big--” he freezes. “Uh, I mean, when I’m a lich! Th-the source of, er, th-that sort of imbalance.”

Kravitz starts to respond, but Barry continues before he can. “And the Raven Queen did l-let me channel her m-magic to save you, i-instead of taking the opportunity to, uh, smite me, or something? So that was pretty good. From my semi-mortal perspective, at least.”

Kravitz frowns, indignant arguments and confused questions melting from his mind in favor of startlement. “You did what?”

“You d-don’t remember…?” Barry looks surprised, too. “Uh, it was on that train, a bit o-over a year ago? When you did a--when you beefed it hitting the tunnel wall. I d-did that thing warlocks and clerics do, to ask for power…”

“Warlocks and clerics?” Kravitz stares at him. “Those are… very different magical professions.”

“N-Not really,” Barry says. “They’re pretty similar. Warlocks c-can just do weirder stunts, usually, since they’re bound to, uh, weirder… less conventional entities.”

“If you put it that way, I suppose…”

“So the Raven Queen l-let me channel her magic f-for, uh--to heal you, because I’m garbage at it, a-and you got portal-warped away.”

Kravitz finds he’s less surprised than he thought that Barry would save him. He did tell him to duck just before he was hit, after all. “You’d think, with such a skill for moving life energy around, that one would be good at healing.”

Barry laughs. “Yeah! But, well, m-most of what necromancy does is, uh, pretty temporary. And I-I also thought that sort of magic might be, er, bad for you? Being what you are? So…”

“Huh,” Kravitz says. “Well, I do appreciate you taking the precaution. You weren’t too off the mark with that thought.” He regrets voicing that last bit when Barry starts scribbling something down in his notebook again.

Barry flips a few pages. “There’s a c-coven of sorts, uh, down south…”

Down south, there is indeed a coven: a trio of witches who have been exploiting a leak between the Astral and Material planes to steal souls. Kravitz hasn’t been able to find its exact location before; some clever shielding has thrown him off at each attempt, so he’s been waiting for a better shot.

“How ‘bout I go in first this time?” Barry asks when they arrive, and Kravitz lets him. He’s getting the vague sense of being tricked, of this slow-building trust being a ruse, but he hasn’t been disappointed so far.

Within minutes, Kravitz feels the nearby enchantments thin out, and his sense of the nearby necrotic energy sharpens. Barry walks into his field of vision surrounded by three darker cloaked figures.

“Weird, right?” Barry is saying as they walk. “A-And if you apply that to, uh, Shillelagh, you can actually--it’s possible to cast it on y-your own hand. It does get st-stuck as a fist, though. Haven’t figured out how to, uh, circumvent that one.”

Kravitz starts stepping through shadows, sneaking around behind them.

One of the witches perks up. “I feel somethin’, Bluejeans. What the hell did you--”

And then there’s a flash of fire that burns away all the plants on the ground, guided by Barry’s subtle hand movements. On a whim, Kravitz takes on the flames and shapes it into a molten golem around himself. The witches screech as Barry shapes the remaining fire into a ring enclosing them all.

“Witches of Goldmire Coven,” comes Kravitz’s voice, crackling and rasping, dripping with lava that becomes black stones on the ground before him. “I am pleased to inform you that your rift has been located, and you’ve won a free vacation to the Eternal Stockade.”

He takes them in one swing.

“You know,” Barry says as he puts out the fire and Kravitz sheds the golem, “Without m-my fire ring, they could--they would’ve escaped d-during that speech.”

“You underestimate me,” Kravitz says. With good reason, he doesn’t add. “But the risk is worth some flair, Barry.”

Barry laughs. “You’d like Lup and Taako.” Then, with a look Kravitz can’t quite discern, he adds, “H-He’d like you too.”

It’s three more bounties and nearly ten hours later when Kravitz finally asks, “You already knew the Bell wasn’t with any of these people, didn’t you?”

Barry sighs. “Y-Yeah. But it helped you out, right?”

“Immensely,” Kravitz admits. “But it doesn’t mean… Barry, you’re not hoping for a reduction on your sentence, are you? Because I can’t really--”

“N-No, no, I know,” Barry says quickly. “It’s--those people were all, uh, really awful. And I would--I think I’d have someone disappointed i-in me if I didn’t take such a good o-opportunity to, uh, get ‘em caught.” He leafs through his notebook a bit more. “That’s all.”

“So, then,” Kravitz says, “Would it be too much to hope that you don’t really know where the Grand Relic is?”

“It would,” Barry offers him a wry smile and tears a page out of his notebook. “M-Might as well go ahead w-with it now, when I can--when there’s still a good a-amount of time on the clock.”

He folds the paper over and hands it to Kravitz. “Th-those are coordinates. In the middle of the, uh, Felicity Wilds. The Animus Bell a-and both of its current holders are all--they’re within a one-hundred-foot radius of, uh, that location, so… y-you’ll definitely be able to tell if you’re in r-range.”

“The Felicity Wilds…” Kravitz looks at the coordinates, trying to recall anything he’s found there before.

“It’s called Wonderland. I-I’m not coming with you on this one, and I think--I mean, I swear I’m not being patronizing when I s-say this, but y-you shouldn’t go after it either.”

“And why’s that?”

“Th-they do this weird thing… uh, they’re liches wh-who use the Bell as a s-sort of lure, and they manage to--they utilize other people’s emotions for power i-instead of just their own. They’ve generated a-a whole building designed for, for misery, and it’s i-incredibly dangerous.”

Barry must be able to tell from Kravitz’s face that he’s not convinced, because he continues with, “B-But if you’re going there anyway, I-I… Okay. Th-they’re probably, uh, anchored to each other, being siblings. Word has it they started Wonderland when they lost someone. I-if you manage to, uh, get one of them, they other should destabilize.”

Kravitz nods. “Well, thank you for the help--”

“Oh, and their n-names are, uh… Lydia and Edward.”

Kravitz’s blood turns icier than usual, and he faces away from Barry. “Good to know.” He looks down at the coordinates. “I think I’ll take your advice for the time being, then, and regroup. I appreciate the assistance.”

“Yeah,” Barry says, awkward confusion evident in his voice. “No worries. O-Oh, and, about our deal--”

“It’s done. Both ends have been completed. You’re back on my list in…” Kravitz thinks for a moment, “eleven hours and fourteen minutes.”

Barry nods slowly, and they both stand there for a moment. “Do you want… to get lunch?”

“Neither of us eats.”

“Right, right, right,” Barry nods. “Well. Good luck with, uh, stuff. S-See you around, buddy.”

So once again, in a flash of light, Barry Bluejeans is gone. And for the first time, Kravitz doesn’t have to worry about where Barry’s gone or what the hell he’s doing.

He’ll deal with it later.

[peachybeverly]

sick of losing soulmates

“That night, Richie was told about soulmates. His mother’s eyes had lit up when Richie told her about the disappearing ink and she quickly ushered him to the dinner table. Everyone could start communicating with them at different ages and Richie was very young compared to others. Soulmates. A person perfectly suited just for you.”

or: richie x eddie soulmate au 

other pairings: bev x ben, stan x mike, bill x audra

READ ON AO3 

Every person has a soulmate. The only way of communicating with them is to write on your skin, until you find each other. No soulmate may tell each other their location – only their name.

Seven years earlier

Richie was bored in class. That was what caused him to start scribbling on his arm back in fifth grade. His classroom was too hot for him to even try and pay attention to whatever his teacher was droning on about, so he picked up the closest pen on his messy desk and pulled up his sleeve. It was a pretty good drawing if he did say so himself; one of his teacher with some of his features largely exaggerated. He couldn’t wait for lunch so he could show Stanley and Beverly his new masterpiece. Stan would probably roll his eyes and mumble something about respecting teachers, while Bev would grin and give him a high five. Richie smiled to himself at that thought. He loved his friends. He was shocked, however, when he looked back down to see his drawing completely gone. Wasn’t it there only a few moments ago?! Thinking he was going crazy, Richie picked up his pen and drew a small smiley face on his hand, and then stared at it intensely. He felt like he was about to pass out when the ink slowly disappeared into his skin.

“Richard.”

He fumbled to pick his pen up and try again.

“Richard!”

Richie looked up and saw his teacher staring down at him, a stern looks across his face.

“Have you been paying attention to anything I’ve been saying? What’s the answer!”

Richie racked his brain for something to say. “Uh… Spain, sir?”

The class erupted into a fit of giggles and Richie looked up at his teacher sheepishly.

“This is a maths lesson Mr Tozier! If you are not going to be paying attention then I would prefer it if you would go to the principal’s office!”

Richie knew it wasn’t a choice and picked up his bag, sighing as he walked out of the classroom. He would have to speak to Bev and Stan tomorrow.

That night, Richie was told about soulmates. His mother’s eyes had lit up when Richie told her about the disappearing ink and she quickly ushered him to the dinner table. Everyone could start communicating with them at different ages and Richie was very young compared to others. Soulmates. A person perfectly suited just for you. He had heard about them before of course, often mentioned in the cheesy romance novels his mother loved to read, but it still felt surreal that he had a soulmate. Soulmate. Out there was a person, waiting just for him. Excitedly, Richie ran to his room and picked up his favourite pen, and in messy writing he wrote.

‘Hi. I’m Richie, and I’m your soulmate.’

He smiled as he watched the words fade, and quickly went to bed. Lying in his bed, he tried to imagine what his soulmate would look like. He tried to imagine her with long brown hair and red lips who smelt like vanilla, just like Bev. But something about it didn’t feel right to him. This time is soulmate was taller, with short curly hair and strong arms, just like the man on his mum’s favourite tv show. Richie felt his face heat up and shook that thought away as well. He could figure it out tomorrow.

When he woke up, Richie quickly checked his arm and was disappointed to see there was nothing there but a few freckles. Running to his mirror, he checked every inch of his skin. Nothing. Feeling a little disheartened, Richie picked up his pen again. Maybe they didn’t see it? He would try and write it on a better spot this time.

‘Hi. I’m Richie, and I’m your soulmate.’

Feeling satisfied, he got dressed and walked to school, regularly checking his arm throughout the day.  And every morning from that day, Richie would write the same thing.

‘Hi. I’m Richie, and I’m your soulmate.’

It took him about three months to realise he wasn’t getting a response any time soon.

Four years earlier

Richie was standing in usual spot outside the school with Bev, chatting to her as they waited for Stan. He was in 8th grade now, and soulmates were the last thing on his mind. He was happy that Stan and Bev felt the same way as him, so forgetting about his soulmate was so much easier around them. Bev brushed her recently short red hair out of her eyes and pointed to the school gate, where they saw their friend walk through. Stan was smiling brighter than he had ever seen him. Richie could tell something was off right away; no kid is that happy to be back at school after summer holidays. Bev obviously shared the same thought, and as soon as he came up to them she raised her eyebrow.

“What’s got you in such a happy mood?”

“I met him.”

Richie choked on his drink and started to cough.

“You don’t mean…?”

Stan nodded, his smile somehow getting wider. Richie wanted to be happy for his friend, but couldn’t brush off the sinking feeling in his gut. Stan hadn’t gotten in contact with his soulmate before school ended, which means the connection must had started that summer. He didn’t understand how they met so soon.

“But how?” Bev exclaimed. You could never tell you soulmate where you lived, only your name and what you looked like.

“I was walking down the beach and I ran into this guy accidently. As soon as I looked into his eyes it was like I knew it was him. He was just like I imagined. We spent the rest of the summer together. Mum says I’m really lucky to have met him so early in life.”

“So, Stan the man met his match, eh?” Richie joked, trying to make sure Stan couldn’t see the hurt in his eyes, he didn’t want to ruin his friend’s mood.

Stan rolled his eyes, but kept his smile. Richie couldn’t help the sting in his heart when he saw how happy his friend was. Looking over, he could tell Bev was feeling about the same as he was, as she still hadn’t heard anything from her soulmate. They gave each other a sad smile while Stan was gushing on about Mike and Bev squeezed his hand. Richie felt better after that, who needed a soulmate when you had such great friends?

Three years earlier

Richie was stealing some of Stan’s fries when he saw it. Big red letters written across his forearm.

‘LOSER’

He doesn’t know what to say. He just freezes, his arm still reaching out over Stan’s lunch. Was it directed at him? Surely not. He refused to believe the first thing his soulmate would say would be an insult. So, what does it mean? Beverly notices the writing as well and sits there, her mouth hanging open in surprise.

“Is… that them?”

Richie continues to stare at it, still not moving.

“Is what them?” Stan asked, his annoyed expression turning more into one of confusion. “Wait, is Richie’s soulmate finally talking?”

Richie slowly sat down, and let his fingers hover over the ugly letters. It didn’t feel right.

“No. No it’s not.”

“Who is it then?” Stan asked, looking at the writing.

“I… I don’t know.” He looked down at his arm with a frown. “Do one of you guys have a pen?”

Beverly looked through her bag and pulled out a blue pen.

“What?”

Richie wasn’t surprised to not get a response. That still didn’t stop the disappointment sinking in, leaving him crying into his pillow that night. Richie avoided getting anything on his skin for months after that. He couldn’t take seeing the ink disappear and never return.

Two years earlier

Beverly hadn’t stopped writing on herself for hours. Not that Richie could blame her; her connection finally started working. His name was Ben and Beverly was already in love. The three were sitting down at the quarry and Beverly hadn’t stopped talking about him.

“- And he’s so funny as well! I laughed so hard last night. He’s the sweetest guy. And you’ll never guess what I woke up to! A poem! It was so beautiful. Oh god, I hope I get to meet him soon!”

Stan and Beverly were already gushing about their new boyfriends and Richie wanted to hit his head on something. He was happy for his friends, he really was. But if he had to hear ‘Ben this’ or ‘Mike that’ he was going to puke.

His friends obviously noticed his sour mood and changed the conversation quickly. Richie didn’t want to ruin his friend’s fun though, so he excused himself and rode his bike home. His mother greeted him when he walked in but sensed his attitude and didn’t push a conversation. He’d been so sad about his soulmate for years. Now he was just angry. Really angry. What right did they have to be so silent after all these years?! Richie had written to them almost every day for 5 years! The least they could have done was tell him to go away.

Marching up to his room, he grabbed his black pen, the one he kept on his bedside table when he wanted to write to his soulmate, and he broke it. He just snapped it in half. The ink splattered all over his hands and arms, before it seeped back into his skin. Now he was screaming, angry at his stupid fucking soulmate and his friends who he was beyond envious of and himself for getting so worked up over this. Why did everyone get a happy ending except him? What if they never responded and Richie had to live his life alone? He was terrified of that, of everyone leaving him. His friends loved him, but now they had new people to love. And he couldn’t stay with his mother forever.

Richie looked through his messy desk until he found a new pen, and started writing, large messy words, hot tears running down his face.

“What the fuck is your problem?! Why are you ignoring me? FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU-.”  

Richie smiled smugly, wiping his tears away and watched the ink slowly disappear.

His anger slowly faded away and now Richie just felt tired and a little bit stupid. He fell asleep almost as soon as his head touched the pillow. He didn’t bother checking himself in the morning – he had given up on that years ago. Maybe if he did, he would have seen the two words written on his leg, in small, neat writing, where any pair of shorts would cover it.

“I’m sorry.”

Present

Richie had given up on his soulmate. Really, he gave up years ago, but now he was really to terms with it, and just used his soulmate powers to write shitty jokes and terrible drawings. He hoped his soulmate was enjoying them, wherever they were. Stan was talking about his recent holiday, where his parents let him invite Mike to their holiday house. He loved Stan, but he really didn’t want to hear about his sex life when Richie’s was almost non-existent. Ben sat with them as well, as he had been doing for almost a year now. Bev looked radiant next to him; he had never seen his best friend look happier. Ben had moved to their high school in junior year, and Bev had realised it was him as soon as he introduced himself. Richie remembered standing behind them awkwardly as they hugged – and then a few moments later, kissed. For a very long time. Richie hadn’t bothered hanging around, and walked away to find Stan and tell him the good news.

Richie now subconsciously wrote on his arm, not listening to Stan, Ben and Beverly’s conversation. He had found comfort now in the fading ink, hoping maybe somewhere someone was listening to him.

“I swear to god, you better be blind for ignoring me this long.”  

Nothing.

“Wanna hear another joke?”

Nothing.

“Why couldn’t the pirate sit down?

Nothing.

“He had his booty stolen!”

“For the love of God, please stop with your jokes.”

Richie screamed. A loud yell, as he stood up, almost knocking Bev off the rock she was sitting on.

“Ow, Richie! What the hell?”

“Its them! It’s really them!”

“What?!”

“I gotta go, I’ll see you later!”

“Wait Richie-!”

Richie ignored his friends yelling after him and got home in record time. Yelling a quick hello to his mother, he rushed into his room and shut the door. With a shaky breath, he picked up a pen and wrote on his arm.

“Hello?”  

And he waited. And waited. And then suddenly, in the most perfect writing Richie had ever seen, he got a response.

“Hello… I feel I have a lot to explain to you.”  

He let out a shaky laugh and felt like he could cry. It was them. It was really them, Richie could feel it.

“Fuck yeah you do! What the fuck dude?? It’s been 7 years!”

“Okay first of all, you really need to watch your language. It’s just gotten worse as you’ve gotten older, and I’m having a hard time hiding it from my mum.”

“Your mum? Mind if I hit her up? Maybe she’ll actually speak to me.”

“I will start ignoring you again Richie, do not test me."

Richie laughed again and rushed to respond.

“No no I’m sorry! And hey! You know my name!”  

“Of course, it’s the first thing you ever wrote to me.”

That made Richie stop. That message, almost 7 years ago. He had almost forgotten, and was sure that his soulmate wouldn’t remember, or hadn’t even seen it at all.

“Oh yeah…”

 “I’m sorry again… I don’t really have an excuse. Well, I sort of do, but it’s a long story.”

There was no way they we’re getting off that easy.

“I have time.”

Before they could respond, he quickly added

“But wait, what’s your name?”

“Eddie.”

Richie smiled. Eddie… It was perfect.

“Okay Eddie, I’m listening.”

_________________________

And so Eddie told him everything. About his mother, who had lost his father when Eddie was four and was petrified of losing Eddie as well. How she had made him believe that he was always sick, and that if he wrote on himself, the ink would make him even sicker. He had no reason not to believe her, so he ignored Richie at first. How when his best friend started talking to his soulmate, he tried to tell him that it wouldn’t make him sick, but Eddie was too scared to try. How when two years ago, Eddie had finally started distancing himself from his mother and was about to try and get in contact with Richie, but instead found angry words covering his skin. Richie still felt stupid for getting so angry.

“Oh yeah… You mean when I wrote ‘fuck you’ over and over again?”  

“Yeah, thanks for that by the way! I had to pretend I had the flu so I wouldn’t have to get out of bed.”

“Okay but in my defence, you ignored me for 7 years soooo”

“Fine. We’re even now.”

Richie snorted. It was a good try, but there was no way in hell that they were even.

“Yeah, I don’t think so Eddie. You’re gonna be making up for this for years”

“…Fair enough.”

“So… Your mum sounds terrible. No offence.”

“None taken. She means well but… I’ll never forgive her for making me afraid of you for so many years.”

“Yeah me too, I can’t believe we could have been talking years ago.”

“I know… Can I say something stupid?”

“Go for it, I say stupid shit every day.”  

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy before.”

Richie certainly wasn’t expecting that. Was it because of him? They had only been talking for a few hours, but Richie had noticed that he was still feeling giddy every time he saw Eddies response.

“Is it weird to say I might absolutely love you?”

“…No. I don’t think so. That’s what soulmates are for, right?”

Soulmates. Richie and Eddie, Soulmates.

“Lmao right, I forget we’re soulmates sometimes.”

“I have to ask… you are a guy, right?”

Richie laughed out loud at that. Sweet, adorable Eddie.

“Omg yes, did you think I was a girl this entire time??”

“No, I didn’t think you were. I mean, I’m pretty sure I’m attracted to guys only so if you were a girl I would have been very confused.”

“Did you think my name was Richina or something”

“haha, very funny.”

“And are you a guy as well, my sweet Eddie spaghetti?”

“Yes I am. Also, please never call me that.”

“Sure thing spaghetti man.”

“I will ignore you for another 7 years Richie.”

“I’m so glad you can joke about that now.”

“Too soon?”

“Nah, I forgive you, you’re too damn cute to be mad at.”

"?? You don’t even know what I look like.”

“Psh, I know you’re cute. I can tell, it’s the Soulmate Senses.”

“Riiiight, okay then.”

“Richard! Dinner’s ready!”

Richie swore and looked at the clock. He and Eddie had been talking for over two hours.

“Ah shit, I have to go, but I’ll be back later if you’re around”

“Of course, Richie, I’ll speak to you soon x”  

Feeling happier than he had been in months, Richie practically skipped down the stairs to dinner, whistling some love song his mum was playing in the kitchen. His mum hadn’t noticed him, as she was facing the oven, pulling out whatever she had been cooking, and placed it on the table to serve. Richie greeted her with a kiss on the cheek, startling her slightly.

“Well, aren’t you in a happy mood!” Maggie Tozier said, bringing Richie’s’ plate to the table.

“I was just talking to someone.” Richie replied, his smile growing wider.

“Oh? Who was that? Beverly?” His mother guessed, sitting down in her usual place on the table.

“Eddie.”

“Who’s Eddie?”

“My soulmate.” Richie answered quickly, waiting to see her response. His mother dropped her fork, and the loud noise made him jump. Suddenly he was in a bone crushing hug, as his mother almost cried with happiness for her only child.

“Oh my god Richie, your soulmate!! They responded? Tell me everything!”

And so he did. He told her everything Eddie had told him, and how happy Eddie made him feel.  And he said the same thing to Stan, Bev and Ben when he saw them the next day. Beverly jumped up and gave him a hug similar to his mothers, with Ben and Stan eventually joining in on their big group hug.

“God Richie, That’s so exciting!”

“Definitely!” Ben said, nodding along with his girlfriend.

“You should see his writing as well! It’s so neat and perfect.” Richie responded, feeling overwhelmed that finally he could be the one talking about his boyfriend. Was it right to call him his boyfriend? They had only talked for one day, but still, Eddie was his soulmate. “Oh, wait I have an idea!”

“EDDIE SPAGHETTI PLEASE RESPOND”

“Yes, Richie?”

“PLEASE SAY HELLO TO MY FRIENDS”

“Why are you yelling??”

"E D D I E”

“Okay okay! Um, hello Richie’s friends, it’s nice to sort of meet you?”

Bev laughed and Ben pulled Richie closer to look at the writing in more detail.

“The poor boy, he doesn’t know what he’s in for.”

“Oh, he definitely knows.” Richie was already back to writing, smiling to himself.

Six months later

“So, how do you feel college boy?”

Richie smiled at his skin, where the new words had just appeared. He was nowhere near done with packing, mainly because of his boyfriend refused to stop talking to him.

“I’m not in college yet I hope you realise. Now be gone and let me pack”

“:(“

Smiling to himself, Richie continued trying to pack everything he could think of into his suitcases. After a few hours Richie was finally sure he had packed everything he needed, and sat down on his bed, exhausted.

“Packing is complete!”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes!! Now I want to talk to you!”

“Well maybe I don’t want to talk to you, what do you think about that?”

“Well that’s just fucking rude.”

“Stop, I just laughed into my drink you dick!”

Richie had a list of everything he wanted to do in life, and now half of it was filled up with Eddie. Hear Eddies laugh, see Eddies eyes, touch Eddie, kiss Eddie, have sex with Eddie(s mum). His boyfriend didn’t seem to find the last one as funny as he did.

“So, how does it feel to be a senior?”

“About the same as a junior”

“Just you wait, soon you’ll be graduating and following me to college.”

“Yeah, I can’t wait. Bill is so lucky, he gets to go to the same college as Audra.”

“It will be our turn soon! Just you wait.”

“It better be, that way I can actually strangle you when you mention my mother in a sexual way.”

“Kinky… Like mother like son I guess.”

“Shut up!!!!”

“Okay okay, I gotta get on the road, see you later Eds!!”

“Bye, love you”

“Love you too”

_____________________

It surprised even himself how well Richie was settling into college. He barely missed classes and had already made some friends. Of course, he and Beverly had gotten into the same school, and now spent a lot more time together. The one problem with college was how busy he was. With Eddie doing his final year of school on top of Richie trying to juggle all of his classes, they barely had any time to talk.

“It will be okay Rich, I promise.” Eddie had said to him last night. “I’ve only got this year to go and then I’m done with high school.”

“Yeah, but then you’ll go to college and be even busier.”

“I’m not going to forget you if we stop talking for a couple of weeks babe, you are my soulmate after all.”

“Yeah, I know…”

“It will take a month, at least.”

“Ouch Eds. Ouch.”

“;)”

Richie knew Eddie was right. They were technically destined to be together, and classes wouldn’t get in the way of that. Beverly continued to remind him that he and Eddie would be perfectly fine, and that he had nothing to worry about. But that was easy for her to say, she was able to see Ben all time, as he went to school not far from Richie and Beverly.

Richie didn’t mean to, but often he got jealous of his best friend, who got to see her soulmate constantly. Richie often wondered what Eddie looked like, and at night laid awake thinking about him, and wishing he was there with him.

He knew he just had to be patient though, like he was all those years ago. Good things come to those who wait.

One year later

Richie walked to class unusually chirpy, even going as far as to whistle and wave at everyone he passed. He wasn’t sure what was making him so happy; not that he really cared. Richie was just about to walk into his lecture before a someone called out behind him. Turning around, he saw what looked like a freshman, with slightly curly brown hair and a small build.

“Excuse me! Sorry, I think I’m a bit lost."

He smiled at the boy, who was gripping tightly to the bag strap that was strung around one shoulder. Adorable.

“No problem, what class are you looking for?”

“Um… all of them?” Richie laughed; definitely a freshman. The boy riffled through his bag before pulling out a folded piece of paper, and handing it to Richie sheepishly. “I still don’t know where anything is. That’s my timetable I wrote out.”

“Well then let’s take a look Mr…” Richie unfolded the creased paper, finding a name written in the top left corner. “Eddie Kaspbrak”

It was surprising how long it took for Richie to connect the dots; after all, he had been staring at the handwriting for years now.

“Eddie…?”

The boy stared at Richie with confusion. “Yes… that’s my name?”

Richie had no idea what to say, mouthing opening and closing as if trying to find the right words.

“It’s Richie. Richie Tozier.”

Recognition suddenly flashed in Eddies eyes as he launched himself up and wrapped his arms tightly around Richie’s neck, bringing him down for a hug. Richie let out a shaky laugh as he buried his face in Eddie’s neck. Standing there hugging Eddie, Richie was suddenly unsure what to do. He had imagined this moment too many times to count, imagining what would happen when the two finally got to be together. But now the moment had finally happened and Richie was unprepared. The two boys pulled apart slowly and looked at each other. Eddie let out an awkward giggle as Richie continued to stare at him, taking all his features in. His hand moved up to Eddies face, tracing all his features softly with his fingers.

“Are you going to say something?” Eddie asked again, laughing.

“No, I’d rather kiss you instead.” Richie smirked, leaning down over the smaller boy.

“Well, then hurry up, would you?” Eddie murmured into Richie’s lips, moving onto his tip toes.

Moving his hands to hold Eddie’s face, Richie captured Eddie’s lips with his own. He could feel Eddie smiling against his mouth, and couldn’t help but do the same. Without meaning to, he had pushed Eddie up against the buildings wall, moving the hands that were once on Eddies face. One was now on Eddie’s hip and the other tangled in Eddie’s hair, as he slipped his tongue into Eddie’s mouth. Eddie moaned into Richie’s lips and pulled away slowly, causing Richie to whine and kiss Eddie along his neck.

“As much as I’ve waited many years for this, don’t you have a class to get to?”

“No.” Richie mumbled against Eddies earlobe. “You are much more important right now.”

“Well then, do you want to get a coffee, maybe?” Richie chuckled and Eddie creased his eyebrows. “What?”

“Nothing, nothing. It’s just, we can actually get coffee together now.”

Eddie smiled and kissed Richie again softly. “Yeah, we can”

Richie suddenly had a burst of energy and jumped up, grabbing Eddie’s hand and running to the exit of the building with him, Eddie laughing into the air behind him.

Five years later

“Babeeeee, come to the rooooooof”

Richie watched the words fade and tried to calm his beating heart. He didn’t know why he was so nervous, after all, this was going to happen eventually, and Bev had been telling him to hurry up and get on with it. So here Richie was, on the roof of their apartment, with a box in his pocket that felt way heavier than it should.

“Hold your horses, I’m coming”

Richie smiled at that. God, he loved his boyfriend. He took a deep breath before he heard the door open. Richie didn’t mean to freeze, but as soon as he saw Eddie looking at him with the sun shining down on him and a confused look on his face, Richie couldn’t utter a single thought.  

“…Uh, babe?” Eddie said, raising his eyebrows and laughing slightly at Richie’s dumbfounded expression.

Richie suddenly remembered what he had called Eddie out here for, and quickly pulled the box out of his pocket. Eddie still looked confused as he watched Richie fidget with the box.

“Oh shit, right,” Richie said, getting onto one knee. “That’s better.”

Eddie, in Richie’s opinion, had never looked more beautiful. He stood completely still, his mouth in a small ‘o’ shape, as he looked down at Richie like he was about to cry.

“Oh my god, Richie…”

“I’m surprised you didn’t see this coming babe, it’s not like this was never going to happen.” Eddie let out a little laugh which sounded more like a sob, making Richie’s heart flutter as he cleared his throat and continued.

“I spent most of my childhood believing there was no one out there for me, and if anyone was out there, I would never forgive them for never contacting me. But you, Eddie, are worth waiting seven years and seven more, because you are my everything.  Words can’t even express how much you mean to me, and these past few years have been the best of my life. I know that we don’t need a wedding to prove how much we love each other, but I really want to marry you Eddie. What do you say?” Richie looked at Eddie, who was smiling with silent tears sliding down his cheeks. “Will you marry me?”

Eddie laughed and nodded, running over to Richie. Richie was still on the ground when Eddie tackled him into a hug, kissing every part of him he could. Richie laughed, falling on the ground, with Eddie rolling off him to lie next to him. Richie held his hand and Eddie obliged, allowing Richie to slide his ring onto Eddie’s finger. Eddie held his hand up to the sky to look at his ring in the light as Richie leaned over and gave him a soft kiss on his cheek. Eddie’s other hand intertwined with Richie’s, and in that moment, he had never been happier.

[spinach-productions]

Miami Vices (TF2), part 1/2

Wordcount: 12,726

Summary:

"Our contact in Miami wants to speak with someone from the organization.  Spy, that’s where you come in.”

“Naturally,” Spy says neutrally.

“Aaand,” Miss Pauling draws out the word, “He specifically asked to speak with a real person, not a mask.”

“Ah,” Spy says less neutrally.

“Which is where you come in.”  She beams at Scout, whose face is anything but neutral.  “Spy might need backup and you’re the only one who’s already seen him without a mask.”

In which Scout and Spy take an involuntary cross-country road trip.  Includes bad clothing and unexpected family bonding.

Warnings: cannon-typical violence, internalized homophobia, personal headcannon about ScoutMa.

part 2

NOTES:

Is this fandom still alive?  I love this fandom, whether it's alive or not.

This was based off of @sugarandmemories‘ comic about Spy and Scout having to go on a mission together in Miami (here) which I planned to make a short fic for and instead made this because I have apparently never done a thing half-way in my life.

Thanks to @tired-pinetree for being a fantastic beta-reader and editor, and for sitting me down and going "these parts aren't working".  Without you, I'd just have a mess of words on the page <3

Enjoy!

-

“Thank you for coming,” Miss Pauling says. She is cleanly dressed and holding one of her many clipboards in one hand. Scout waves at her when he enters the room; Spy rolls his eyes skyward and steps silently into the space just behind Scout’s shoulder.

“Hi,” Scout says, “What’s up?”

“I have an assignment for you,” she says brightly, “Now that you’re both here—”

“Both—?”

Scout actually jumps when he registers Spy in his peripheral vision. It’s very satisfying. Spy catches the elbow aimed at his throat before it can make contact.

“Bon matin,” he says smugly.

Scout shakes Spy’s hand away and growls something obscene under his breath.

Miss Pauling clears her throat. “Yes, hello.” She gestures to two chairs set up between a projector screen and a Kodak Carousel, “If you would?”

Spy takes a seat. Scout, still glaring, flops into the remaining seat.

Miss Pauling dims the lights and brings the carousel to life. A picture of the RED team logo appears on the screen. “As you know, I occasionally ask people to do a little ‘extracurricular’ projects for the company,” she says, her air quotes silhouetted in the light of the projector. “And today I’m tapping you two.”

Spy arches an eyebrow but doesn’t comment.

The carousel clicks to its next slide, showing a loaf of bread. “As you know, one of our subsidiaries is Red Bread.”

“I thought that was a front,” Scout says.

“The Administrator doesn’t like to use words like ‘front’,” Miss Pauling says with more air quotes, “And besides, Red Bread is a real company servicing the real community of Miami, Florida. We’re bringing baked goods to other underprivileged ‘subsidiaries’ at affordable prices.” She clicks forward to a picture of a blond man ducking out of a suspicious-looking pizza parlor. “This is Mikhail Vasechkin, one of our local connections. Apparently there’s been some new development he can’t communicate through writing or phone and he’ll only speak with a RED agent in person. Spy, that’s where you come in.”

“Naturally,” Spy says neutrally.

“Aaand,” Miss Pauling draws out the word, “He specifically asked to speak with a real person, not a mask.”

“Ah,” Spy says less neutrally.

“Which is where you come in.” She beams at Scout, whose face is anything but neutral. “Spy might need backup and you’re the only one who’s already seen him without a mask.”

“He’s ugly,” Scout says. It comes out like a reflex, as though his mouth has fallen back on instinct while the hamster wheel in his head works on something else. “It’s just a there-and-back, ain’t it? If Spy’s so good he can do it alone.”

“We don’t want to risk it. This could be a new development about the subsidiary underbelly, or it could be an attempt to capture one of our best agents. The Administrator and I are in agreement that this is a two-man job.”

Scout looks sharply at Spy. “In a car, all the way to Miami. With Spy.”

Spy pointedly does not look away from the projector screen, even as he agrees with the sentiment. “Well summarized,” he says, “Details?”

“Estimated time: one week. We’ve already loaded a souped-up car with supplies, maps, and disguises. Your first destination is written down in an envelope in the glovebox, you’ll get further instructions from there. No weapons, and no contact until you get back to base. This should be a simple operation, but you’ll be way out of respawn range so make sure you don't die. You have an hour to pack any personal items before you leave. Then you’re off on a road trip vacation!” Miss Pauling sheepishly tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m a little jealous.”

“You could come wi—”

“Thank you, Miss Pauling,” Spy interrupts. “We’ll be ready. Come along, Scout.”

“But—”

Spy grabs him by the back of the neck and forcibly steers him out of the room. “ Come along. ”

Miss Pauling either doesn’t notice or politely ignores the struggle. Scout starts shoving in earnest once they’re back out in the desert heat. “Let go , what the fuck?”

“She obviously cannot take a week off from work and asking would only make her feel worse,” Spy says.

Scout finally yanks himself free and rubs his reddened skin where Spy’s fingers dug in, mumbling, “You don’t have to be a dick about it,” which is as close to ‘thank you for not letting me make a bigger ass of myself than usual’ as he’ll ever get.

“It seems to be the only language you understand,” Spy replies, lighting a cigarette, “I’ll meet you at the car. I am driving.”

“Asshole’s the only language you understand,” Scout snaps, jogging ahead to the barracks to, presumably, fill a suitcase with dirty laundry and baseball cards. Spy exhales a nicotine cloud. His disguise kit can hold up to ten cigarettes, but he’s going to need at least double that to make it through the week.

-

“Minnesota!”

Spy grunts and almost drops his cigarette when Scout's fist connects with his shoulder. He’s certainly made up this ‘license plate game’ with the sole intent of punching Spy while he can’t retaliate, and while he’ll never admit it, Spy’s arm is getting sore. Luckily, the cars on the road are precious few; by the rules of his own game Scout has only been able to hit him six or seven times. Spy subtly rolls his shoulder. He can see Scout grinning in the corner of his eye.

He adjusts the cigarette in his mouth. “If I were not driving, I would kill you.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Scout says as he begins to play with the radio. He’s wearing the red-tinted glasses they’d found in the glovebox next to their instructions, which turned out to be nothing more than an address several miles outside of Miami.

“I’m no school boy but I know what I like, you should have heard them just around midnight,” a singer croons.

“You cannot honestly think you could beat me in a fight.”

“You think you’ve lost your love, well I saw her yesterday-yi-yay. It’s you she’s thinking of and she told me what to say-yi-yay--”

“Oh man, I’m so scared right now.” Scout holds up his free hand and wiggles his fingers. “Look at them shakes. So scared.”

“Hope you’ve got your things together, hope you are quite prepared to die--”

“If you do not pick a station,” Spy says calmly, “I’m putting a knife through the speaker.”

“You said you didn’t care what we listened to.” Scout continues to flip through the jumble of radio waves. It’s a miracle he can hear anything over the noise of the car traveling at 150 mph (courtesy of Engineer’s tinkering and Spy’s impeccable driving), let alone identify the sounds coming through the speakers well enough to decide to look for something else. “And anyway, you don’t have a knife.”

“There are almost a dozen within reach,” Spy mutters.

“You brought a weapon on this mission? Spy, I’m hurt! Miss Pauling specifically said--”

“I saw you put your bat in the trunk.”

“For batting practice! Can’t afford to slack off.”

“I saw you put your gun in the trunk.”

“For shooting practice! Can’t afford to--”

“You know what,” Spy says abruptly, “There is something I’d like to listen to. Have you ever played the quiet game? ”

Scout’s incredulity is so strong, Spy can see the expression without turning his head. “Are you kidding. Are you kidding me right now? You’re seriously treating me like a kid?”

“If the shoe fits--”

“No freakin’ way. If you felt like being a parent, you missed the boat like twenty years ago.”

Spy sighs slowly through his nose. “Are we going to have a problem, Scout?”

“No problems from me.” Scout props his feet up on the dashboard and shoves a piece of gum into his mouth. He idly spins the radio dial with his toes. A million stations fill the cabin, accompanied by the sound of the most obnoxious open-mouthed chewing Spy has ever had the misfortune to experience. Scout’s toothy grin tells him none of this is accidental. “How’s about you, Spy? You got anything you’d like to air out?”

Spy takes a deep breath. His has worked in international espionage since the age of fourteen. He once spent three years undercover in a maximum security hair salon. He once escaped a Boxing Day party using nothing but his wits, a pen cartridge, and two sprigs of rosemary. Surely he can endure one cross-country road trip without killing his remarkably irritating son.

Scout sticks out his gum-covered tongue. He must have added three more pieces to the one he was chewing because dear god the resulting bubble is going to kill them both. Spy grabs one of the three knives taped behind the steering wheel and bursts the thing in self defence. He gets his quiet when the splatter engulfs Scout’s entire head, gluing his mouth shut for three blissful minutes until Spy’s conscience kicks in and he cuts Scout an air hole.

“If you say anything,” Spy says as Scout gasps and sputters back to life, “I will let you suffocate in your own idiocy.”

His gummy passenger probably glares, but the effect is lost under the bright pink candy. Scout spends the next half hour silently clawing gum off his face. Spy magnanimously doesn’t count his deeply disgusted noises as talking.

-

Scout, who doesn’t seem to handle idleness well at the best of times and began fidgeting in his seat several hours ago, throws himself out the passenger-side door as soon as Spy backs into their designated motel parking space.

“No, don’t worry about it, I’ll take care of our things,” Spy deadpans. He slings his suit jacket over his shoulder and walks around behind the car before it becomes apparent Scout isn’t coming back.

A quick glance at their room confirms it: the door is open. Perhaps they’ve chosen a poorly secured placed to stay, but Spy has been driving for ten hours and doesn’t care to search for another. He collects his case, locks the trunk, and enters their room.

Scout has already claimed the bed farthest from the door. He sits cross-legged with his attention fixed rapturously on the TV. Spy assumes there is some kind of baseball game going on.

“Did you at least check the room before you zoned out?” He asks, closing the door behind him.

“Bathroom’s clear, nothing under the beds,” Scout says.

“Perfunctory. You realize anyone could have come in here before us?”

“It’s fine.”

“You assume everything is fine,” Spy says, “You have no idea what kind of dangers there are in our line of work.”

“Uh, yeah I do, I get killed like twenty times a day. Besides, the door was locked and the window in the bathroom ain’t been picked, so.” He waves his hand in a shushing gesture without looking away from the game.

“Clearly it wasn’t if you could get in,” Spy says, but his finely-honed sense of misplacement is going off. “Did you steal keys from the manager?”

“Nah,” Scout says with a smirk.

Spy checks his pockets. He checks them again. He checks his jacket pockets. He even pats down the twin knife holsters under his shirt because there is no possibility that Scout picked his pocket.

“Check your gloves?” Scout asks sarcastically. Sure enough, he’s spinning their keys on his finger.

“You little brat,” Spy hisses.

“What about your fake molars? Maybe they’re in there.” When Spy storms towards him, Scout flicks the key ring away. It pings across the room with unerring accuracy and disappear down the floor vent. “Whoops, clumsy me.”

It takes several very long moments for Spy to master himself. When he can speak without grinding his teeth, he calmly crosses the room to the TV. “If you are going to act like a child.”

“Hey--”

“Then you are,” he snaps an antenna, “Grounded.”

The screen immediately flips to static. Scout lets out a cry of horror and shoves Spy aside, but the damage has already been done: reception is well and truly lost. He fruitlessly beats the side of the box with his palm. “Nonono no .”

“Do you know how to fix a broken receiver?” Spy twirls the severed metal between his fingers. “I do, but I seem to have forgotten. If only I could go for a walk to jog my memory without leaving the door unlocked.”

Scout scowls murderously.

“Alas, the keys are misplaced--”

“You're a bastard, you know that?” Scout says as he stomps into his shoes.

“Ah-ah, I believe 'grounded’ means you are to stay here.” Spy moves to lean his shoulders back against the door, “And I want those keys.”

“First, fuck you. Second, I got nothing to get them out, so get the fuck out of my way,” Scout says, roughly shoving Spy’s arm.

Spy continues to block the door. He wonders how long Scout’s tenuous sense of self-preservation will keep him from attacking. “Let me be more clear: get the keys, or I will call your mother.”

As it turns out, Scout is even less concerned with his own well being than predicted. He throws his full weight behind a forearm against Spy’s chest and, when Spy doesn’t yield, moves the arm to his neck. “Listen, asshole,” Scout growls, “I’m not even gonna pretend to get your relationship with my Ma, but for some reason you make her happy enough to forgive you for running off when she got pregnant. You and me got shit, sure, whatever, but you do anything to make her even remotely upset,” he grinds his arm into Spy’s throat, presumably for emphasis, “I will fuckin’ kill you.”

Spy grabs Scout’s opposite wrist and bends it the wrong way. To his surprise Scout rolls his arm with the motion and smashes his elbow into Spy’s side. Spy counters with a sharp knee to Scout’s gut. They stagger apart in opposite directions.

After a nice long string of curses, Spy uses a bed as leverage to get to his feet. He manages to grunt, “The feeling is mutual. ”

“Fuck,” Scout wheezes from where he’s clutching his stomach and swearing into the carpet. “I mean good. ”

Spy ignores his spasming diaphragm to straighten his tie. “It is truly a mystery how a woman as lovely as your mother raised a monster like you . I am going to take a shower,” he says, turning towards the bathroom where he can catch his breath away from Scout’s spiteful gaze.

Just as the door closes behind him, he hears Scout mutter, “Probably because she had to do it alone.”

After more than thirty years of intelligence work involving lies, betrayal, and the occasional murder, Spy thought there was nothing anyone could say to hurt him. He turns on the water and ignores everything he’s thinking.

-

When he exits the bathroom an hour later, Scout has already passed out on the bed by the defunct TV. Predictably, he tosses in his sleep, mumbling and kicking and shoving the bedclothes away only to frown and throw a searching hand onto the floor when he can’t find them. Spy watches him feel half-consciously across the carpet for his missing blankets.

“Snipes,” Scout mutters, “Can’tcha just...”

Even unconscious, he is too loud and too energetic. Spy is probably supposed to feel ‘fondness’ or perhaps ‘contentment’, but all he finds a muted version of his usual annoyance.

After finding Scout’s name just after his own on RED’s roster (and hadn’t that been a nasty shock), Spy had expected watching his deaths to be unpleasant. Braced himself for it, even. Instead he found the same irritation he’d feel towards any coworker’s incompetence; watching Scout meet his end in enemy fire felt the same as watching a receptionist load their typewriter backwards. Spy supposes he never was the sentimental type, but to feel nothing at the repeated deaths of his own child is… disappointing.

Spy removes his tie and shuts off the light. He listens to Scout shuffle across the mattress until sleep comes for him.

-

Spy is only a morning person through discipline. It took years of training to get himself out of bed before noon, so he’s surprised to see Scout awake only ten minutes after Spy has made is morning espresso.

“Where the hell did you get coffee?” He grumbles, hair sticking up in all directions.

“I brought it with me,” Spy says coolly.

Scout blearily smudges the heel of his hand across his eyes. “Lemme guess, you only brought enough for one.”

“I could be convinced to make another cup, if you--”

“Get the keys, yeah, I get it.” Scout yawns and shuffles across the room, leaving blankets trailed across the floor in his wake. “You're such a bastard.”

Spy eyes the blankets with distaste. “You are twenty-seven years old, not a teenager. Perhaps consider acting your age.”

Scout flips him off as he disappears into the bathroom. He even slams the door for effect. It reopens a moment later. “The fuck are you wearing?”

Spy sips his espresso and refuses to feel any embarrassment. “The disguise Miss Pauling chose for me. Yours is hanging in the shower.”

“Is that floral print? Why the fuck are you wearing sunglasses inside?”

“You know, I somehow thought your vulgar word choice was to appeal to our teammates.” Spy sets down his tiny cup. “How foolish of me to think of you as anything but an uncouth man child.”

Scout rolls his eyes and slams the bathroom door a second time.

The truth is that after years wearing a mask, Spy isn’t comfortable with his own uncovered face. He’d rather deaden his eyesight than be exposed.

By the time Scout emerges from the bathroom, Spy has washed his tiny cup and saucer and set them on the windowsill to dry. Scout is still wearing his pajamas, but has bent the clothes hanger into some approximation of a hook.

“You don’t really expect that to work,” Spy sneers.

“Chill, asshole.” Scout peers into the vent, “You’re lucky I’m doing this at all.”

Spy watches as he studies the grating. Scout looks at it from all angles, adjusts his makeshift fishing tool, and slowly lowers it into the vents. The wire taps against the metal duct a few times. Scout actually sticks his tongue out in concentration.

“It isn’t possible to—”

“Got it.” Scout carefully draws the wire back. Sure enough, the keys dangle off the end. “Time to put your coffee maker where your mouth is, jackass.”

Spy cocks an impassive eyebrow. “Can you handle espresso?”

“After the stuff Medic makes for me, I’m gonna need at least three of those before we hit the road,” Scout says dismissively.

“No wonder you’re so short.”

Scout chucks the keys at Spy’s head. “Asshole,” he grumbles, wandering back into the bathroom. The shower sputters to life a moment later.

Despite his best efforts, Spy is both mildly impressed at the boy’s dexterity and mildly concerned that Medic is feeding him questionable energy drinks. He shelves both thoughts and flips the coffeemaker on. It gurgles. The shower rattles. Spy looks out the window on the off-chance something interesting happens outside. On a whim he rummages through his suitcase for a tube of welding glue and uses it to reattach the TV antennae. It flickers to life when he turns the knob. He turns it to a local news station and attends the espresso.

The shower squeaks back off. Scout makes a terrible racket of thumping and swearing, finally emerging in the clothes Pauling picked for him. The hat is only slightly different from his uniform, but the enormous black and white tracksuit is quite the departure from his uniform. “What the fuck is wrong with Miami?”

Spy has similar feelings on the matter. If this clothing selection is accurate, Florida has done something terrible to these people.

“Hey, you fixed the TV. I figured you didn’t know how,” Scout says as he picks up his coffee. To Spy’s disgust, he tosses back the espresso like shot. “Ugh, this stuff tastes like shit.”

“And that is why I only brought cheap coffee.” He plucks the empty cup from Scout’s hands before he can do something stupid with it. “I will be leaving in ten minutes. Be in the car or I will leave you behind.”

Scout mutters something like “asshole” under his breath, but collects his things all the same.

-

“ Louisiana! ” Scout slams his fist into Spy’s arm. It’s the third poignantly forceful punch since they began driving this morning.

Spy takes a deep breath. “You said the plates only counted if they are from another state. We are still in Louisiana.”

“Whoops, my bad,” Scout says in a tone that convey zero apology. Another car drives by and he shouts, “ Louisiana!” again.

Spy catches his fist this time. “If you hit me one more time , I will drive this car back to Teufort and tell Miss Pauling it is because you failed. ”

He means to sound threatening. To his immense irritation, Scout bursts out laughing. “That’s such a freakin’ dad thing to say.”

“It is not,” Spy says through gritted teeth, “It’s something adults say to children who cannot behave.”

“You tried to play the ‘quiet game’,” he says, making air-quotes the way Miss Pauling might, “You ‘grounded’ me, and now you’ve pulled ‘don’t make me turn this car around’. Sure you don’t have kids running around somewhere? Oh, wait.”

Spy grits his teeth. They will be at their first destination in eight hours. Surely he can refrain from doing anything rash for that long.

“There’s another one! I think the license plate starts with an ‘L’--”

-

Thanks to Engineer's ridiculous turbo-boosters (as he calls them), they arrive in Tampa by nightfall. Spy finds an independent motel a few short miles from center city. The motel owner is a professional who offers a copy of the evening paper without asking why Spy is wearing sunglasses at night, or why his car is making repeated banging noises. Spy smiles politely, pulls up to their room, and smugly lets Scout out of the trunk.

“I fuckin’ hate you,” Scout grumbles, massaging bloodflow back into his limbs.

“The feeling is mutual,” Spy replies, shoving Scout’s suitcase into his arms. “Behave and you get to ride in the car tomorrow.”

Scout glares, but keeps his mouth shut and keeps the TV to a reasonable volume for this evening’s game. For a while, Spy pretends not to notice the furtive staring he does between pitches, but he’d be a poor intelligence agent if he couldn’t recognize someone psyching themselves up to speak. “Do you have something to say?” He asks without looking up from the paper.

Scout makes a face that suggests he’s thinking about something dangerous. “Nah,” he says, “But uh. Do you wanna watch?”

“I do not follow baseball,” Spy says.

Scout looks away. His face hardens and his shoulder hunch. “Right. Probably not a thing in Europe or wherever.”

Spy studies him in his peripheral vision. “No.”

Scout turns back to his program, but no longer seems to be paying attention. He doesn’t say anything through the evening continues to hold his peace after the lights go out.

-

They leave early the next morning. Scout, who has been quiet and, dare Spy say, polite , gets to sit in the passenger seat. He stares out the window and keeps the fidgeting to a minimum. Even the radio remains untouched. It’s heavenly, better than Spy could have hoped.

It’s also suspicious.

“Scout.”

“What?” Scout says, breathing on the window to doodle in the condensation.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing.”

“You are always doing something, what is it?”

Scout throws his hands in the air. “I’m not doing anything! I’m not doing any of the shit you were complaining about: I’m not making noise, I’m not moving around, I don’t even have any gum.”

Spy’s eyes narrow. “You are always doing something.”

“For fuck’s sake, Spy, there’s nothing else for me to not do! Do you want me to stop breathing, is that it? Am I breathing too loud?”

“You are certainly complaining too loudly now,” Spy snaps.

Scout makes a frustrated noise and a strangling gesture, then dives headfirst over the center console into the back seat.

“What are you doing?!” Spy yells, holding the gearshift so Scout can’t kick it out of place.

“Fuck you,” Scout says as he squirms beneath their clothing and into the foot space, “Wake me up when we get wherever.”

“Oh yes very mature, hide in the backseat like a child. ”

Scout throws up a one-fingered salute in the rear view mirror.

“Good riddance,” Spy hisses, settling himself back into the driver’s seat.

The miles rack up in silence. The sun creeps up over the horizon ahead of him, chasing off the night with pink and orange ombre. It’s beautiful in a cliche sort of way, and as if he could not be more of a French stereotype, reminds him of the night he met Scout’s mother.

The second of Don Genarro’s five children, Minerva had wrenched the throne from her older brother who cited a sudden desire to become a painter in Canada and hasn’t been seen since, leaving her as mob boss of the greater New England area. Spy met her one night at a bar, long after her (mostly peaceful) takeover. She had recently performed a (mostly peaceful) restructuring of her nuclear family, and was taking a rare night on the town before rolling up her sleeves and diving into single motherhood; Spy was paid by a rival gang to watch her for weaknesses. She had seven (seven!) children, was six years his senior and wore her hair in a beehive and swore like it was going out of style and snorted when she laughed.

“Gonna stare all day,” she’d asked, “Or are you gonna buy me a drink?”

Her dress was a similar pink to today’s sky. Upon taking the seat next to her, he’d found himself on the business end of a stiletto blade that, to this day, she will not tell him where she hid. It hovered just over his femoral artery while the the bartender made her drink.

“Here’s what’s going to happen: you’re going to tell me what Donnie Mareto thinks he’s going to accomplish by ruining my fucking night off, then you’re going to pay my tab and just maybe I won’t have to ruin my new Ava Gardner dress with your arterial spray.”

He never had a chance.

“Are you going to sulk back there all day?” He asks the back seat.

Scout doesn’t reply. He seems intent on sleeping, or possibly on ignoring Spy.

Spy knows Scout’s mother wants him to get along with their son. It isn’t reasonable, there’s too much time and too many difficult emotions between them to ever be a ‘real family’ (her words, not his), but still he grits his teeth and asks, “What do you want for breakfast?”

The backseat yields no answer.

“I understand a traditional American breakfast involves pancakes.”

“Fuck off,” Scout mutters from under a sweater.

When Spy sees a diner advertised on the next exit board, he makes the executive decision to pull over for food. He enters the establishment alone and orders a breakfast special and coffee. Scout, who is always less stubborn than hungry, shuffles in ten minutes later to a plate of eggs and bacon.

They don’t talk, but they don’t argue either. Spy sips his coffee. The diner seems to be some kind of neutral ground between the arguing.

“You already eat yours?” Scout asks.

“I ate in the motel.”

“Was it one of those weird-ass tiny dinners you keep in your teeth?”

“If you must know, it was fruit. I managed to find some at a gas station yesterday.”

“Yeah, I didn’t see that part because I was locked in a trunk.”

“Hmm,” Spy says, pointedly not meeting Scout’s glare, “I remember you being insufferable and then much better behaved.”

Scout snorts, but doesn’t stop shoveling food into his mouth. Breakfast seems to have mollified him. “You can never call Ma on me now, y’know. I got the last word on everything because you locked me in a trunk. ”

Spy had considered this at the time, and ultimately decided a full eight hours of silence was worth the potential backlash. “It seems our problem must stay between us.”

“No shit.” Scout folds a pancake in half and starts loading eggs onto it like a tortilla. “I’ll be honest, I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“Oh?” Spy asks, watching breakfast foods pile into the makeshift tortilla. It’s horrifying, yet fascinating to see what Scout will try to eat next.

“You like to keep your hands clean, I figured you’d be a wuss in an actual fight.”

“Just because I wash my hands--”

Scout makes a stop gesture with the hand holding his breakfast wrap, splashing a drop of syrup on the table. “Not like that, jackass. You always do things sneaky-like, all disappearing and backstabs and ‘right behind you’ . You never take a guy head-on. I didn’t think you’d be any good at it.”

Spy leans back in his seat and cocks an eyebrow. He’s actually curious to see where this conversation goes. “You have seen me kill enemies with my bare hands on multiple occasions. What on Earth made you think I wouldn’t be able to fight you?”

Scout shrugs and bites off half the pancake concoction. He mercifully does not try to talk around it until he’s finished. “Mick says you’re a wuss.”

That gives Spy pause. “I wasn’t aware you two were on first-name basis.”

“ Sniper says your a wuss,” Scout says with an eye-roll.

“That man lives in a car and engages enemies by running five miles away and looking at them through a tube. What does he know?”

“He’s got long arms,” Scout points out.

“That he uses to hold two tubes glued together.”

“Got a big knife.”

“Compensation,” Spy says.

Scout chokes on his food.

Spy studies Scout’s face to make sure the sunglasses aren’t distorting his vision. “Surely you are not--”

“No.” Scout bangs on his own chest to clear it, glaring at Spy through the endeavor. Given the short duration of the choking, his face is redder than it should be. “Fuck no, and fuck you. I don’t think of anyone like that.”

“Good god, you are prude. You are so American, you can’t stand even the thought of another man’s body.”

Scout grabs the remains of his breakfast off the plate. “And that’s it for me.”

“How have you survived in the locker room for this long? Everyone gets changed at the same time, surely you’ve seen--”

“Nope.” Scout crosses the diner toward the door, pancakes in hand. “Not talking about this.”

Spy sips his coffee as Scout makes his red-faced exit. He spares a moment to imagine the pairing (what would Scout and the busman even do? Go camping? The idea is laughable) and takes his time flagging down a waitress for the bill. He is… not amused, but not completely irritated either. He muses on this as he leaves change on the table.

-

The address leads them off the highway, down a small side alley, then onto a wide road running parallel to the Tampa’s main street. It clearly has no problems being less prestigious than the city center, with its more sedate traffic and fewer neon lights. It appeals to Spy’s sense of décor until they pull up to their destination.

“Non,” he says, helplessly staring up at the billboard.

“Hell yeah! ” Scout says, already vaulting out of the car and over the hood.

MATINEE DOUBLE FEATURE, the theater sign announces proudly, PSYCHO and BILLY THE KID V. DRACULA.

“Why would anyone put those things together,” Spy asks the empty car, as though it can save him.

The marquee is done up in dozens of lights. Large, well-lit letters over the billboard proclaim that this mockery of an theater is called The Danvers, and the front window is lined with tacky second-hand movie memorabilia. Spy reluctantly parks the car and approaches the ticket counter, where Scout is somehow already causing a commotion.

“And then it’s like eeek-eeek-eeek! And she’s like ‘ahhh!’ ,” he says, dramatically miming what appears to be a woman being murdered with a knife.

“Did you know they used chocolate sauce for the blood,” the ticket taker asks excitedly. She can’t be older than sixteen, which puts her mental age a few years ahead of Scout’s. No wonder they’re getting along.

“Psh, yeah, everybody knows that ,” Scout replies, sniffing in a way that communicates his complete lack of knowledge on the subject, “S’not like they could’ve used real blood or anything.”

“Two, please,” Spy interrupts unenthusiastically.

She takes his money (a complete waste of a dollar, they could have used that to buy so much coffee ) and stamps their tickets. “You’re in for a real treat, mister! It’s a double feature, Psycho and—”

“I saw the sign.”

His deadpan doesn’t seem to dampen her mood. “Real good, both of ‘em. Enjoy!”

“I will not,” he says, grabbing the back of Scout’s jacket to drag him away from the counter before he can re-engage with the ticket taker.

“Fuck off ,” Scout jabs an elbow into Spy’s ribs to make him let go. “What’s your problem now?”

“I have to spend the next four hours watching terrible American films,” Spy replies testily as they approach the gaudy front doors, “I will not spend one moment longer than necessary in this god forsaken excuse of an entertainment house.”

“Shoulda guessed you’d be a killjoy,” Scout says.

Spy is more than happy to have a target for his ire. “And I should have guessed you’d like this kind of tasteless drivel. Of course you would enjoy watching a deranged man kill naked women in showers, and whatever the second monstrosity is.”

“Billy the Kid fights Dracula the Vampire. It ain’t that deep, dumbass.”

Spy responds by shoving Scout into the doorframe. It makes him feel a little better, and better still when Scout retaliates by tackling him into the popcorn stand and starting a short brawl in the wreckage. Unfortunately they seem to have found the East Coast’s most tolerant theater, as the fight only earns them an escort to their seats and a stern warning that further destruction of property will earn them a fine.

“Fuck,” Scout gripes after the usher leaves, “I wanted a coffee, you asshole.”

“I was hoping we'd be thrown out,” Spy says gloomily.

“You were willing to throw the whole freakin’ mission just so you wouldn’t have to sit through a movie? ”

“Two movies,” Spy corrects, crossing his arms and sliding down in his chair. It sticks to the back of his jacket, as though to really, truly emphasize how badly his day has been ruined.

The lights dim, and Spy switches his sunglasses for the tinted pair provided by Miss Pauling. To his disgust, they’re still sticky from Scout’s gummy brush with death. He picks at the residue through the opening credits before sliding them on, bathing the black-and-white movie in shades of pink. Despite the color change, Psycho doesn’t deviate from its usual story: man and woman cannot be together due to financial problems so woman steals money from her employer in the name of love (or something, he doesn’t really care).

“The costuming in this movie is terrible,” Spy grumbles, “And why must we see every errant thought that runs through her head? It ruins the pacing.”

“Shut up,” Scout says without looking away from the screen.

The movie drags on. Spy watches half-heartedly.

“They could have cut half of this so-called plot and had the same film. This could have been a commercial between segments of a soap opera.”

“If you’re so freakin’ miserable, give me the glasses and go do something else,” Scout hisses.

It’s a tempting offer, but Spy has seen Scout become distracted by his own shoelaces while pinned down by enemy fire. There’s no guarantee he’ll be able to watch a movie and keep an eye for the film’s encoded messages at the same time. He explains this to Scout, who has some creative ideas about what Spy can do with his ‘shitty fuck-ass opinions on other people’s fuckin’ attention problems’.

“You do not have ‘attention problems’,” Spy says, disdainfully eyeing Scout’s bouncing leg, “You have a problem paying attention.”

Scout snorts. “Oh yeah, I’m gonna take your word for it.”

Something about the way Scout emphasizes ‘your’ in ‘your word’ sticks in Spy’s head. He picks at it until the thread unravels into clarity. “Medic has been focusing your attention with the energy drinks. That’s why the caffeine content is so high.”

“Duh,” Scout says.

It’s painfully obvious in hindsight. Spy watches him for another moment, reexamining all the fidgeting and chattering in this new light. He pulls a balisong from one of the many hidden pockets he’d sewn into his ridiculous disguise. “Give me your hand.”

This finally draws Scout’s eyes from the screen. “Uh,” he says, eyeing the knife, “No.”

Spy flips it open in the simple three-step clockwise rotation. He does this again more slowly, then puts the knife in Scout’s hand. “Do you understand?”

“What the fuck,” Scout says, which probably also means ‘no’.

Spy walks him through the steps again. Scout’s eyes keep darting between Spy’s face and the knife in his hands until he finally tries to open it himself. He immediately nicks his palm, but the cut is shallow and Spy trusts Scout to be undeterred by a little blood. With uncharacteristic patience, he guides Scout’s hands through the motions until he can replicate them on his own.

“Good.” Spy watches until he is satisfied Scout won’t cut off his fingers, then returns his attention to the movie. “Do that.”

“Why?” Scout asks as he continues flips the blade open and closed.

“Having your hands occupied will help you concentrate.” He glances to where Scout is playing with the knife. “It is something your mother used to do.”

Scout moves the balisong through open and closed a few more times. “I guess so. She messes with hair pins, though.” He curses when he misses a catch and has to close the handles manually.

Spy’s knife continues to click in Scout’s hands as the movie ponderously waddles on. He receives a few cuts, but his fingers remain firmly attached and his leg stops bouncing so Spy considers this a success.

Because Mikhail is a bastard, their secret message doesn’t turn up until the end of the movie. He’s somehow managed to highlight specific letters in the credits. Spy jots them down to spell out a second address and flees the theater. Surprisingly, Scout follows him with minimal complaints, still fiddling with the knife as they walk back to the parking lot. It would be satisfying to put him down for playing with a knife in public, you ridiculous child . The insult rises easily on Spy’s tongue, but he finds that he cares less about public opinion than Scout’s ability to focus. Besides, he’s gaining fluidity with the motions, and can now talk and flip at the same time.

“You owe me a movie,” Scout says as Spy pops the trunk.

“I taught you how to open a knife without killing yourself,” Spy replies, locating a map and shoving their luggage aside to spread it out, “Surely that’s time better spent than watching a movie about cowmen and vampires.”

“I bet Pyro can get the Billy the Kid movie when we get back to base.” Scout leans back against the car, spinning the knife around his finger in a trick Spy did not teach him, as Spy runs his finger across the roads. “So what’s the place?”

The address is a small dawn-to-dusk park in the heart of Miami. Spy memorizes the location and briefly considers slamming the trunk closed on Scout’s jacket. “Apparently we are going to walk in a park,” he says, shooing Scout away from the car to close the trunk instead.

“Now?”

“There was no time indicated, so I can only assume we are meant to attend now.”

-

part 2

[ko-fanatic]

A Young Ootori’s Notebook (part three)

Rating: Explicit / Mature (for series as a whole)

Fandom: Ouran High School Host Club

Relationships: Kyoya & hosts, mentioned unrequited KyoTama, Yoshio Ootori x Yuzuru Suoh

Trigger Warnings: Drug abuse/addiction, depression, suicidal thoughts, suicide attempt, self harm

Summary: It's so warm, so happy, but he just feels hollow. He's looking in on someone else's Christmas, or it feels like it. Nothing's real, anyway...

No knowledge of A Young Doctor’s Notebook needed.

BEFORE WE BEGIN, BECAUSE I KNOW I'LL GET A MILLION COMMENTS IF I DON'T CLARIFY: My headcanon for Kyoya's grandmother is that she's both English and Christian. Their grandfather was pretty much an atheist, so they tend to go with more Christian traditions and holidays. Kyoya was even a choir boy for a little while.

Other parts of this series: Part one | Part two

It wasn’t before long that the clink of glass on table grated against Kyoya’s pounding head, Haruhi never did learn Tamaki’s “pinkie trick” properly, but he was thankful that she was more punctual than her husband. His throat was dry, he was nauseous, and he had to steady himself as he sat up, the world tilting dangerously sideways. Instead, he felt Kaoru’s gentle hands on his shoulders, guiding him into a more stable position, before leaving his bony frame to brush his too shaggy, unprofessional hair away from his sweaty forehead.

The passage of time was not always something he was acutely aware of, but that was the norm for someone who indulged in his… vices. Everything was questioned; was it even real? Time was real, despite some saying that it truly wasn’t, because it all just seemed to press down on him in that one moment. Clear and hazy seconds, minutes, years just seemed to hit him all at once and, for the first time in a while, Kyoya felt old.

He was only in his, admittedly late, forties, and he felt like some sort of frail octogenarian; it was a little humiliating, and his cultivated vanity was appalled. His hair was starting to grey also, from the stress and strain he put himself and his body through. His knees were aching, despite him sitting, and he could see how prominent the bones in his hands were. He was a wreck, really. A pretty boy turned into a mess of an addict.

Still, it was actually rather amusing, in some sickeningly morbid way. He was obviously unwell, displaying all the red flags that the media liked to pounce on, draining it of any potential scandal that it could hold. Before the truth came out, before he got too desperate to hide his issue from the public, the worst insinuation was that he was ill.

No drug rumours, nothing about anorexia, or anything of that like, because that wasn’t what an Ootori was. An Ootori was strong and composed, they certainly didn’t dabble in things like prescription pills, morphine, and even heroin. Diamorphine, that’s what heroin is in medical terms, used for moderate to severe pain. After all, diamorphine has the same effect as morphine at half the dose, and he can only justify and fudge so many numbers.

Kaoru’s hands helped steady his shaking ones as he brought the glass to his lips. He gave the other man something of a half-hearted glare, despite the fact that he almost spilt it over himself. He just took deep breaths between sips, trying to get his stomach to settle, pretending that this wasn’t as pathetic as it was.

“While we get that you felt miserable, why all this?” Hikaru huffed, though there was genuine concern and query in his eyes, from what Kyoya could see, “Why forge prescriptions? Why morphine? Why fucking heroin?”

“It’s not like I set out to become a drug addict,” He drawled, but it only seemed to make him sound even more tired, “It didn’t start like that. At first, I needed what I was prescribing myself…”

He was miserable.

That wasn’t particularly a new state of being – he’d been on the receiving end of far too many well-meaning hair ruffles and pitying coos to be blind to the so-called “tragedies” in his life. Still, this particular brand of miserable was nearly unbearable. It reminded him far too much of middle school, his chest tightening at the realisation that it might be happening again, when that wasn’t an option.

He wasn’t sleeping without over the counter pills, he wasn’t hungry and couldn’t make himself eat, he didn’t want to see anyone. He’d just holed himself up in the nice apartment his father had arranged for him, close to his university; like he somehow managed to combine coddling and independence. Thinking on it now, it was probably his stepfather’s involvement also, but still. He was rather grateful for not having as many responsibilities as “commoner” students, having spent most of the day drifting in and out of sleep.

He knew it was lazy, not to mention unbefitting and more than a little antisocial, but he didn’t really have the energy to care anymore. That was the real issue. Not caring, then caring too much about said apathy, and it was something so confusing that he often just stared at the wall, head feeling as if it were floating several feet above his shoulders.

Still, his family didn't even notice when he returned for the holidays. Wasn't that a slap in the face? Yuuichi and Akito were grinning while running around the mansion with Fuyumi's little boy and girl, trying to discover the hidden presents. His father and step-father were in the kitchen, attempting to bake gingerbread without assistance, clad in hideous Christmas jumpers. He'd already heard the fire alarm go off several times, so he supposed that it wasn't particularly successful.

It was... odd. Like he was watching everything unfold behind the glass of a television screen. No one could see him, he was just on the outside looking in. The mansion was warm, there were so many people, but he still felt so... cold. Lonely. Isolated. He sighed, finally unlocking the door of his old bedroom and immediately catching a whiff of burnt sugar. Well, that was going to hang around for days.

It was all too little and too much at the same time. The terrible twosome - and the children - seemed to have moved on to somewhere else, leaving the hallway feeling almost abandoned in the cool December light that peeked in through the windows. He could hear muffled commotion, but nothing clear or vivid.

“Yuzuru, get off!”

“Come on, Yoshi; it's mistletoe!”

“Oh... You incorrigible old sod.”

It was so... happy. Surely his grandmother and grandfather were around somewhere, probably in the courtyard if those screeching noises really were tires on asphalt. His aunt would probably stay in her cave on Mount Crumpit until it was time for mass, whereas his uncle promised that he'd say hello before hitting the bars this year.

“WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU ABOUT CORRUPTING MY KIDS?!”

“It’s the witch, run! Protect the presents!”

“WHAT DID YOU JUST CALL ME, YUUICHI?!”

Kyoya swallowed around the heart in his throat, blinked back the sting in his eyes. It was all fine, there was nothing to be upset about. It was just one of those times where apathy rubbed away, revealing something rawer. He was tired, a little frustrated with himself, and he knew that if he were to go downstairs, this feeling off hollowness would at least be warmer for a little while.

Rather than go downstairs, Kyoya had a different idea in mind. After all, he'd managed to diagnose himself, and he didn't want to admit that what he had wasn't even physical. There was no medical reason for his low energy and even lower mood, merely something psychological. Basically psychosomatic, really.

No, rather than go down and sit by the fire, letting Yuzuru ruffle his hair and his father watch him playing puzzle games on his phone, he snuck across to Yuuichi's office. His brother had taken it over since their father retired, very much intent on sticking around, much to their fathers' hidden dismay, and there was one key difference to how Yuuichi and their father arranged the space; Yuuichi was predictable.

He closed the door softly behind him, though took normal steps - not tiptoeing like he once had. It was less conspicuous to act as if you were doing nothing wrong, after all. He merely went over to the desk, opening the top draw, and there - under a file - was his brother's prescription pad. There were even pens in a nice little stationary cup on top of the desk, waiting to be used.

He put the pad on the table, putting the pen in his left hand rather than his right to imitate that God-awful scrawl his brother wrote in, and filled in those important little details. Sertraline, 50mg, to be taken once daily. Easy enough.

He tore it off neatly, like his brother tended to do, and pocketed the slip. He'd take it to the pharmacy soon. Not the one in the hospital, of course; that would just be stupid. It would be too easy to get caught out, after all.

For now, he just went back to his room to put the slip in his bag, feeling at least slightly more productive than he had in weeks, finally with a plan.

When he finally settled down in front of the fire, the little ones swarming him with their cute cries of uncle Kyo, it still felt a little empty. He just played around a little, got them to settle down, and laid down next to the little rascals, cuddling up to them as they snuggled into the ugly – but fluffy – rug that Yuzuru had insisted on.

It would do for now.

The Christmas season has come once more, it seems, and Kiyomi and Daisuke are growing like weeds. It seems like only yesterday that I was their age, and my brothers were running around with me to find the hidden presents. Time flies, I suppose; whether you’re enjoying it or not.

It’s the fragility of the line between past, present and future, I suppose. After all, when is it drawn? The past ceases to exist and then you find yourself looking back over it, going by in a rose-tinted blur. It always seems sunny in hindsight, I find. It’s just a shame that I’m a miserable sod in the present, but I look back over memories I once found boring and feel warm nostalgia.

Perhaps, if I allow myself to dig into my own psychology for a moment – which is the purpose of these entries, I suppose – it’s probably due to my own set of complexes. I won’t allow myself to find joy in frivolous things in the present, so it’s a delayed reaction. Suppressed. It’s just another way I differ, it seems; usually, people repress the bad to protect their psyche from trauma, whereas I do the opposite.

Of course, I also suspect that the past looks so sunny because it holds some of my most innocent mentalities and cherished memories. I remember sparkling princess dresses and my rosy cheeked, albeit temporary, crush on Kuze – not that it didn’t end in heartbreak and the loss of some innocence, on both sides. I remember church choirs and being picked for my first solo performance, and how much praise I was given by my grandmother and even my aunt. I remember stargazing and lips pressing against my own, both of us laughing as if we were normal teenagers who had no worries, yet acting like we didn’t know each other that following Monday.

Of course, I also remember the host club. It’s still so strange to thing that it slipped into the past, almost like sand between my fingers. I feel so isolated. Tamaki and I still see each other, now stepbrothers, but he’s not here yet. He wants to spend time with Haruhi and Ranka, but he did promise that he’d be over soon.

I don’t want to be so dependant on the relationship we have, but Honey was never my favourite person, and my friendship with Mori was more silent companionship. We’ve drifted apart, somewhere along the way. Hikaru isn’t interested in talking, any texts we try to send back and forth tend to be succinct, and not in the pleasant way.

I haven’t spoken to Kaoru in months, I’m not sure why. Perhaps I should reflect on that more, rather than the past. After all, I still haven’t answered a single text or email he’s sent, feeling far too… afraid of rejection, I suppose. Perhaps that’s why Hikaru has nothing to do with me anymore…

“Oh, boo hoo.”

Kyoya huffed, turning to see the damned old man again, still looking less than put together. To add insult to injury, it also seemed he was going mad. Some ghostly spectre that looked to be a cheap knock-off of the ghost of Christmas future had obviously taken a liking to him, and the bastard’s hobby was nit-picking.

“You know why you don’t want to talk to Kaoru, you just wrote it,” The old man drawled, hauling himself up pathetically into a half-sitting position, “You’re a coward, and an idiotic one. The solutions to your problems are just so simple but fear always gets in the way. That’s what Kyoya Ootori does the best; run away.”

“Shut up!” He snapped, feeling far too drained to deal with the assault on his character at the moment, “I didn’t ask your opinion.”

“Self-reflection,” The man smirked, voice lilting almost serenely until he doubled over, dry-retching over the arm of the chair he’d sprawled over.

“Oh… Whatever,” He muttered, closing his notebook with an air of finality before climbing into bed, eyes straying to his bag. He’d take it to the pharmacy soon, and he’d be fine. He would.

[artificialskyway-archives]

Muse

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Length: 1,974

~Admin R

“She was free in her wildness. She was a wanderess, a drop of free water. She belonged to no man and to no city.” - Roman Payne, The Wanderess

I was set out on a mission. I needed a muse. Something to get me over this god-forsaken rut. The rut that has been halting my mind, giving me nothing but absolutely zero motivation. It has been weeks and I still had not finished my big end of the term art project. I started it successfully, yet halfway through it I had nothing else to offer. Weeks later, and still nothing. It’s due in two weeks and I needed to find a new muse to kick me out of this hole of dreariness. So when my best friend texted me, asking to check out a new bar that opened up in downtown, I figured ‘why the hell not? Maybe inspiration will find me there’.

So, I really wasn’t up for the bar scene tonight, but I was up for doing anything to get me out of this endless cycle of nothingness. And if that meant showing up to a bar in the middle of downtown, then there I will be. I arrived to the bar, and it definitely looked new... vintage… minimal... all characteristics you’d expect from a scene in this part of the city. I walked inside and made my way to sit up at the bar, not at all surprised that _Y/F/N_ wasn’t here yet. She always had a knack for being fashionably late. Sitting at the far end of the bar, I took notice of how vivacious and lively this bartender was while making someone’s drink. You would have thought you were in the audience of a cirque du soleil showcase with all the twists and turns of his arms, bottles and glasses. But despite the overly done gestures, you couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm.

“What’ll you have, Miss?” The bartender asks, looking at me with his crystallized hazel eyes after he’s settled the bottles and glasses down.

“Gin and Tonic, please. On the rocks.” He nods, and gets to work on my drink. I checked my phone for a message from my friend. Nothing new… yeah, she’s definitely still getting ready, I thought to myself. I turned around in my chair to observe the scene behind me. The dim lighting made everyone look overly happy, yet serene. They looked almost  like shadows floating to the sound of the music playing in the background. A few high tables and couches were spread out along the walls of the building, leaving a small dance area towards the opposite end of the room, while a single pool table occupied the space just before the bartop.

I scanned my way back around, slowly observing every inch of the room. The details were breathtakingly simple but all too beautiful. My eyes reached the opposite side of the bar, from where I’m sitting and I see it. In all black, topped with deep blue denim.

My muse.

As if the entire bar scene had dissipated into a blank canvas of nothingness and white space; there he was, the only source of light and color laying on my blank canvas. I keep looking at him, admiring his features and the sound of the crowded bar begins to muffle, fading away. Everything stopped, yet kept moving as I watched my muse mindlessly sip his drink, twirling the bottom of it in circles over the bar top. There was my inspiration. My way out of this cycle.

A new sensation itched at my bones, I felt exhilarated. Realizing I needed to draw out his features before time slipped away, I quickly reached into my bag and pulled out my mini sketchbook. Digging around in search of my pen, and of course, I would lose my pen at this very moment. I look up to the bartender, who was already reaching into his front shirt pocket and pulling out his pen, handing it to me. He smiles and winks at me, after I thank him sweetly before setting my eyes back on this guy sitting at the end of the bar.

Looking back in his direction, pen in hand and ready to create, I breathed slowly. Feelings of adrenaline and bliss were spreading throughout my body. A faint smile appeared on my face as I looked up to study him. He’s now turned around facing the crowd with his arm draped loosely over the bar top, clinging to his glass. I begin to slowly sketch the outlines of his frame. Gentle lines form on my small sketchpad, his figure is starting to appear beautifully on paper. I lose track of all my senses, I can only see this guy. Noticing his every angle as he’s turned facing the chaotic scene that is taking place behind the bar, I begin to feel my heartbeat rising. His soft brown hair reaches his eyebrows, his jawline is strong even through his soft smile that is living on his face. I finished drawing his figure and now to add some final touches. Taking one last look at him, I used every fiber in myself to burn his beauty in my brain. Something about this guy made me not want to forget him, I hope I don’t forget him. After a few seconds, I finally managed to look away and back down at my work. Studying the drawing, I begin to add little details of lines and shading where necessary. I felt content, pleased… I felt whole again.

I was so entranced in my work that I had completely forgotten where I even was. That is, until I heard a deep voice call out to me from behind. I froze, suddenly falling back down to earth from cloud 9. I looked up across the bar and my muse was gone. Defeated, I turned towards the voice behind me, immediately freezing yet again. There he was, standing taller than I could have imagined him being. Glowing in a beautiful soft aura, exuding so much beauty I was at a loss for words. Blinking a few times, I tried to remember what he said to me, coming up with nothing. He’s still looking at me with a sweet smile, then he laughs to himself and repeats.

“I said, that if you’re going use me as your drawing reference, then you should at least buy me a drink next time.” His voice was deep and velvety, flowing through my ears so gently. He continues, “Because wow, you have no idea how hard it is to stay in one position for you. And all without being able to motion for the bartender to pour me another drink.” He jokes, exposing the most beautiful smile that I’ve seen. A beautiful box-y smile that makes me want to melt at his feet. God, he’s too beautiful.

Frozen in the depths of shock that is still running through my body, both from being caught and from the surreal beauty currently standing before me. I still don’t manage to say any words to him. ‘Just speak, open your mouth and say something’, is all that keeps running through my head. He simply keeps a soft smile on his face as he points to the empty chair next to me, “so, mind if I have a seat here?”

“By all means,” you finally manage and motion to the chair next to you, “sorry for making you freeze for so long without a drink. Can I buy you another?” Yes, finally words are coming out. He sits next to me as I turn to the bartender who is smiling way too obviously at the both of us now. “Can I get another round of Gin and Tonic, on the rocks and whatever-” I look at my muse, unsure of what his name or his order was.

“I’ll have the same,” he tells the bartender and the bartender nods happily, working on both drinks.

“So,” he starts, “will you let me see how I look on paper?” The soft smile of his never seems to disappear, and it is sending way too many butterflies through me.

“Oh, um, it’s not really finished yet.” I start nervously, and for some reason I have way too many nerves working through me. I normally don’t get this nervous with showing others my work, but not this time around. This guy was all too beautiful. He made me feel empowered, yet incredibly shy at the same time.

“I’m sure it’s beautiful. Probably more beautiful on paper than in person, anyways.” He says, as he nudges me softly in my arm and I swear I felt little bolts of electricity from his sweet touch.

“I beg to differ!” I started, feeling a little more comfortable, probably from the second drink that is already coursing its way through my system. “I will show you just a sneak peek of what I drew, but I think I should at least know the name of my muse, shouldn’t I?”

“Taehyung,” he says with his velvety smooth voice.

“Taehyung.” I repeat back, loving the way it rolls off my tongue.

“And your name?” He asks me, and I’m not sure when exactly his knee found my leg but I can feel sweet and jolting bolts of electricity forming from the small contact.

“No, no. You either get a sneak peek of my drawing, or my name. You can’t have both.” I tease him, crinkling my nose and clutching the sketchpad to my chest.

He leans in closer to me, and I lean back an inch, startled at the forwardness coming from him. Taehyung’s eyes are scanning my face, as if he thinks that he can figure out my name just by looking at my face.

“You’re really beautiful.”

‘Did he just call me beautiful? Why, what is his angle? God, he’s so beautiful.’ All these thoughts are swirling in my head, I don’t even notice him still staring at me, gently holding my gaze. His eyes are warm, and all I really want to do is draw them too, hoping to capture at least half of the beauty that he holds in them. I should probably say something now.

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Taehyung.” Good enough. “Anyways, here you go. I actually want you to have a look and tell me what you think.” I open up and hand him my drawing of him and carefully watch him as he is eyeing my work. My heart is beating at a mile a minute, a smile is on his face, ‘so he likes it?’. Then he slightly tilts his head to the side, ‘so he doesn’t like it?’. He runs his long, firm fingers over the drawing, feeling the artwork under his skin, his soft smile turns into a sweet grin as he looks at me.

“This is amazing!” He starts, his eyes are glistening and warm as they look at me again.

“Yeah? Honestly? I really want you to like it, since you are the focal point here.”

“I love this, truly. You’ve captured the angles, the atmosphere, the essence and displayed it so beautifully.”

“Thank you.” I replied, not helping but smiling at his compliment. He really is beautiful.

We spent the next hour talking about art, about each other, about getting together for a date. I had always liked the feeling of being free. That’s why I turned to art, there were never any restrictions. I was allowed to be free, belonging to noone and no thing. But with Taehyung, I felt a new feeling blossom in me. I wanted him with me, I wanted to be with him. He made me want to be more than who I was, he saw my potential and never let me forget it. I wanted our lives to merge together, creating a new level of art that was better than anything ever captured on paper or print.

Taehyung was my muse.

Masterlist

[starlightdevotion]

nsfw adsfjfhg

they stand in the navigational room together, the island table cluttered and chaotic, filled with charts and routes and maps, the two of them with their elbows pinning papers down, voices low, pens in hands. the hour is late and most of the crew has gone to bed, but jaewon can’t sleep and mina has decided to stay, to go over some ideas for new routes that might cut their time-scope down half a day ( which might not seem like much, but it’d actually be more akin to a miracle ) while jaewon argues with her about why that’s impractical. they discuss trader streams, alliance cut-offs, skyplexes that may or may not have grudges against jaewon for one battle reason or another, not that he particularly pays attention to things like that. that’s why he’s got mina.

the conversation meanders well into the night, passed when either of them had intended to go to sleep, but the chemistry working inside their dynamic, half friendship, half something else, keeps their easy back-and-forth discourse continual and entertaining. he doesn’t speak like this to anyone else aboard his ship, not even kafka, smiling more relaxed, less strict with himself, less harsh on his inabilities, something about mina having known him since before all the strains of life had weighed on his shoulders, before the title of captain, of sergeant, gives him a peace of mind he can find nowhere else. her presence unknots the coils in his brain, absorbing his havoc in stride, as she always has.

at some point though, she leans back, breaking through the small, intimate bubble they’d created between themselves, yawning and stretching and wiping her eyes, and his gaze rakes down her body for a moment before it drops entirely and he has to remind himself to breathe. sometimes she gives him contentment, sometimes she does the opposite. “it’s late, i have to crash,” she tells him, and he’s not entirely sure that’s true— he’s seen her sleepy before. right now, she simply looks like she’s not sure what else to say.

he stands straight up beside her, the joints in his limbs aching slightly, his lungs inhaling, his hands lifting up to wipe at his face, to run through his hair, and he nods. a beat passes between them where they simply stare at each other, and he doesn’t know what she’s thinking, he’s confused, the five-second interval held around them like a captive. she looks at him with something in her eyes, a half-expectation, a half-uncertainty, and he just blinks down at her, his mind remeshing itself, spiraling back into a disaster.

she leans up and presses her lips against his cheek, quick and soft and unbearable, and his shoulders tighten, his hands spasm, breath caught in a vice grip inside his lungs— he has no idea what to do. she retreats though, just as swiftly as she’d come, a light dusting of pink on her cheekbones, but she can’t look at him now and he can’t look away from her now. he feels like everything has just stopped, his insides have grinded to a halt, the whole verse around him stunned into untimely silence. it’s not their first kiss, but somehow this newly-found closeness between them still chokes the hell out of him.

an urge stronger than god tidal waves through his chest and he has to step around her to walk over to the door, knowing he’s only about to cause a mess, knowing he’s not going to be able to restrain himself for long, and closes off her escape. she hears the door shut and turns back around to him, obviously surprised, probably thought he was going to reject her or something, but he only lets her get a word out, his name, before colliding into her like a comet, his arms winding around her body tightly, his lips on hers, skin burning, the ache building in his bloodstream.

this isn’t their first kiss, but every time he tastes her, he feels like it is, he feels like he’s getting to know her all over again, fingers gliding over the curves of her body he’d thought he’d already memorized, tongue blazing between her lips as though there are notes in her mouth that he wants to hear her sing, that he wants to draw out of her. she clings to him like water, envelopes herself inside the cover of his arms, his black coat wide enough to swallow them both whole, as though they could disappear inside each other, as though they could collapse together like crumbling stars.

he holds her pressed against his body, turns and pins her to the counter, the edge of it positioned across her lower back, leaning slightly forward so she can feel every inch of him alongside every inch of her. his hands burn into her hair, down her back, fingers clawing carefully as he feels her yanking at the coat, dragging it down over his shoulders and he lets her go long enough for it to drop around his ankles. it’s an interesting moment, given that the movement shifts him in such a way as to accentuate the hardening bulge in his groin, his form crushed against hers, their bodies making friction and heat and throbbing, and it’s embarrassingly obvious. he’s not sure if he wants to die or not.

“i, i’m—…”

“don’t apologize.” she grabs him by the collar of his shirt, both hands strong against his chest, and smashes their mouths together again, a leg curling up onto his hip, her heel finding a home around the back of his leg. he sees lightning behind his eyelids, the electricity sparking through his veins as she reaches around him and digs her nails into the skin on his back, scratching up over scars and tattoos, her teeth sucking on his bottom lip. he tumbles over the edge of propriety, hissing against her lips, a strength surging through him as he reaches down over her ass, both hands groping her roughly, before picking her up and setting her on top of the counter.

poised between both legs, he rips at her clothes, jerking the fabric of her shirt up over her head, his lips coming down to nip and bite and suck hickeys on her throat, her collarbones, her chest, and he feels her gripping his hair between her fingers, her nails grazing against his scalp, and he fucking loves it, he wants it, he needs it. he shoves roughly at the bra to just get it out of the way, his lips closing over her left nipple, tongue toying with the nub hungrily, pressure and wetness and the sharpness of his teeth, while his hands undo her belts. she manages to pull his shirt off before he pushes her backwards, laying her down flat across the table surface, across the star charts and penciled drawing, flat enough for him to get a grip on the handles of her pants and draw them off her as well, as fast as possible.

she really has the most beautiful legs, long and strong and devastating to his equilibrium, and he’s lost so much control by now already, there’s very little separating desire from action, so when he wonders if she’s as delicious as she looks, his mouth immediately hounds for the answer, lips attaching to the inner side of her knee, licking and sucking upwards. her thighs are warm and soft— so impossibly unscarred as though the war never touched her at all, tasting like honey on his tongue, like sunlight, like perfection, but the higher he goes the more scorching it gets, and he’s always been drawn to wherever is hottest.

both legs over his shoulders, her fingers in his hair, her low-toned curses in his ears, he bites a mark into the softest part of her thigh, just below her underwear, feels her tense up, feels her breathing race, and it’s like a drug. she’s every sort of addictive spice to him and they’ve never done this before, but he knows he can’t stop now or he really will die.