#Like it shows she actually paid attention and not liking him for artificial shit. She wants to actually get to know him and what makes him

[gixxie]

Gosh this fic was EVERYTHING. It felt like reading / watching a shojo manga/anime. I love reader with all my heart. 😭💚 She's so good, I literally I want to protect her with from the world.

First we begin with reader's confession. And gosh I don't know what I expected. If anything I expect her to declare that she'd get him to fall in love with her by being friends first. But no, she just wanted him to know and reject her. That intrigued me a lot cause she's way stronger than I am. To hear rejection everytime you confess? Idk my heart too fragile sksk. But it's also intriguing in a different way because even though she knows her feelings won't be reciprocated, it's enough to be friends. It's enough to be in his presence. She doesn't come to Rin to declare what he can do for her but rather what she can do for him. I don't know if it makes sense what I'm trying to say. But all I know is, reading how it started filled me with such warmth and I see why it made Rin curious about her. She's quite unexpected. I love it.

I love their dynamic. How bubbly she is compared to his stoic grumpiness. It's my favorite thing ever!! Or How he's curious but indifferent at first. Finds her annoying but kinda intriguing. Just like reader stated, he is indeed like a cat: He want to be left alone for the most part but he enjoys company in his own way. Friendly in his own way. When they clean together in the classroom, the first moment Rin might notice that their friendship is developing into something else. 🥺🥺 It's so sweet the way he notices her, her humming, the necklace, the light reflection, and last but not least his heart bearing faster. So shojo but it never fails to make me squeal and kick my feet in delight.

Rin sticking up for reader in his own way. STOOOP IT. We always have a mean girl who loves to be a hater. CLEARLY YOU'RE JUST JUST JEALOUS BECAUSE MY READER CAN BE NEAR HIM AND YOU CAN'T. okay but 1. my heart aches for her because she probably hear comments like that all the time. 2. Her entrance and trying to deter the girls for talking to Rin makes me giggle and smile like a buffoon. She's too precious. But what a fucking mood at her declaration because RIN SO SWEET. I ADORE HIM SM.

Reader meeting Rin's mom has me squealing and all. I love we get to see what she's like out of school. Rin doesn't realize it but he 10000000000% thought she was BEAUTIFUL. I got you boo, I read your mind. Her confessing that he's nice to her!!!!!!! I know his mom called his dad to plan a wedding and everything. Crying that "she's the one." Not to mention Rin's jealousy HEHHEHEHHE. IDK SOMETHING ABOUT THIS WHOLE HOME THING HITS SOMETHING DEEP INSIDE OF ME. I was LOSING IT. So cute. But at the same time ACHES cause you see how alone reader really is. 🥺🥺 She's taking care of herself and gosh yeah again I want to protect her at all costs.

Okay but when our couple had their "date but not a date" outing?? AHHHHH I never loved Rin more than in that moment. When he called reader brother out??? Like YES. sure you may care but it comes off as fake and stifling especially when you haven't done it in the past. Plus like Rin said it's not for the person in question but rather themselves. And don't even get my started on the park scene when Rin allows himself to be vulnerable, allowed reader to hug him. Spoke about his feelings? You're going to kill me here. I love them both sm. 😭😭💚💚💚 When reader tells Rin she hopes he beats sae's ass. 😭😭😭 I was thinking it as I read that part. He better beat the brakes off of him and make that man cry snot bubbles.

THE BIRTHDAY SCENE CAPTURED MY HEART. I just KNEW reader was coming over. And the slight emotion in Rin's tone?? Like he can deny all he wants (he doesn't really so good for him) but nothing feels good than having someone else care enough to make your bday a big deal. Like someone happy you're alive? Wanting to spend time with you on your day? I know my man's was down bad after that. Like I would have choked him myself if he still wanted to be like "Nah fam I still don't like you." HE WOULD BE STUPID TO PASS UP READER. But that's neither here or there, we know he's in love. 🫡🫡

THE INSTAGRAM PIC, THE KISS, THE CONFESSION WHEN I SAY I SCREAMED LIKE AN SEAL/ PTERODACTYL. Slamming my face on a chalkboard, shaking like Chihuahu, I love Rin. The "Please kiss me." Can't fucking breathe man. I am just screeching and rooting for them. MY READER GOT HER KISS HELL YEAH. I love they both pretended to be asleep when his mom came in cause I WOULD HAVE TOO ksksks. The second hand embarrassment I am dying. And we saw Rin blush for the first time? The power reader HOLDS. I was giggling my butt off.

Then we get to Rin overhearing some guy wanting to confess to reader and omg. I love him for what he does. It's insane to me that no one asked her out before AND NOW we got crushes left and right wanting a piece of my reader... As they should. 🤭🤭 Not Rin low-key being hurt by them hiding their relationship. He went from "idc, your presence doesn't mean much to me." To being upset that the school doesn't know. Again I adore him. Oh have times evolved hehe. I was wondering why they would want to hide the relationship but reader caring about Rin image is so like her my heart. 🥺🥺

Stop reader worrying about seeing each other because of busy schedules got me all 😭😭😭. I love we see Rin is a bit more open. Even if he doesn't outright say it, WE KNOW AND I LOVE. The hug, the reassurance that he gives. THE LOVE CONFESSION. I am shot in the shot by cupid's arrow and I'm in love with this fic. They are perfect for each other I sob.

Finally we get to the epilogue and stop I love that guy that's like "settle down, quit while you're ahead. YOU HAVE NO CHANCE." Sir you're damn skippy right. 🤣🤣

Help I love the guy response is like "through the power of love, I'll win her heart." STOP IT HAHAH. You know he's hella into the romance media. Rin telling reader he misses her. It makes me so happy that he went from bottling his emotions, sometimes ignoring or not understanding them to now saying how he feels. I'm gonna CRYYY. I love Rin subtle claim. Cause he really do be claiming reader 🤭🤣🤣.

Anyway I am 100000% in love with this. You did amazing!!! Thank you for posting this magnificent fic!!

WON'T YOU LEND ME YOUR FAITH? | R. ITOSHI

❁ tags ; fem!reader (reader dresses femininely + is referred to as a girl / with she/her pronouns), reader is shorter than rin , strangers to friends to lovers, fluff, getting together, rin is soo teenage boy (and makes some annoying teen-boy comments), slow-burn, making out is as suggestive as this gets, stereotypical shoujo romance, usage of honorifics, coming of age

❁ wc ; 21.4k (insane. most insane thing ive ever seen)

❁ a/n ; i'm genuinely appalled by the length of this fic. how did that happen. what in the world. this fic is truly just. every single shoujou manga trope crammed into one okay. my silly little self indulgent romance !!!!

also this fic is sfw + takes place in their third of hs so im not gonna say mdni that's silly. however if you're a minor please do not follow me i post heinous dark content and this fic is a fluke in the timeline dskffjkfd

❁ synopsis ; the love story of a sensitive, stoic soccer player and an eccentric wannabe journalist

or that time you confess to itoshi rin, knowing he'll reject you, and asking to befriend him in spite of it.

“I like you,” 

A breeze of wind passes.

“What?” 

You confess to Itoshi Rin at the start of the Spring semester. On the school rooftop with your head down. Bent at a near ninety degrees as you hold out what looks like a love letter.

For a minute, he can’t do anything more than stare. He’s received countless confessions in highschool. Half of which he rejected immediately, not even stopping to hear the full extent of their feelings. Why would he? The lukewarm ideas of first love had never been of interest. Even before his fight with Sae, Rin was always focused on his goals. 

After his second year of high school was spent in Bluelock, Rin has only returned for his third. He promised his parents he’d graduate properly, and Bluelock was off-season until Ego could fully prepare for the next stages. 

And a lot has changed since then. But some parts of him, namely his feelings towards the idea of conventional relationships, haven't changed at all. 

It’s only been a little less than three weeks since school had started, and by now he’s received more confessions than he can really remember. All of which he’s rejected coldly, and blankly, because Itoshi Rin has never been in the business of coddling anyone. Most of those girls he’s never even met. Knows nothing about them because they’re first or second years he’d never even spoken to. 

Rin, however, does know you. You’ve been in his class in all 3 years of his highschool, and he’s seen you around more than once. You’re in the newspaper club, which he remembers because you covered their winning match back when Rin was a first year. He wouldn’t call you friends, but you’ve spoken to each other enough that he can remember your name with a little effort. 

He also  remembers you being sort of annoying. You’re one of those loud and earnest types that he can’t stand. 

A year ago, Rin would’ve denied knowing you at all. But now that things with Sae have cleared up just a little - he’s not inclined to take his anger out on you. He knows you. Not well, but enough.

And if his reputation precedes him at all, then you know Rin too. You know that he’s never once gone out with a single girl in his 3 years of highschool and that most of the guys in all three grades consider him an arrogant jerk. You know that he mostly plays soccer alone during breaks and that he only really hangs out with one person. 

Which means you must know that he doesn’t harbor any feelings for you. And that he’s going to reject your confession without thinking twice about it. 

In the first place, he was just curious if you were stupid enough to do it. If you really called him up here for a roof-top confession. The fact that you were is what’s stifling him. Your words are familiar. He’s heard them so many times. But it’s baffling. It’s ridiculous. 

You lift your head to face him. You’re still smiling, though there’s something more there that he can’t understand. He doesn’t do well with people like you begin with. He finds himself backing away when you jog up closer towards him. 

He’s taller than you, he notices. You pick your head up to look at him and smile, toothy and at ease. You hold the letter up again and shove it towards him, though you don’t seem like you’re expecting him to take it. He stares at you. 

“I like you,” You repeat, smooth and bubbly. He frowns. 

“I don’t like you.” 

He has expectations for this part. Normally he receives a saddened look like a dog whose tail he stepped on or a fit of crying (sometimes genuine, sometimes with the intent of guilt.) Sometimes he gets an awkward smile trying to seem unbothered by the whole situation. 

You don’t falter though. You don’t even flinch at the words, cold as ice and steely. It throws him off. 

“I know,” You say back,  prying the letter away from him. You turn the other way, walking towards the metal grates and for a minute Rin wonders if you’re going to do something drastic. You don’t though, instead sticking your the paper in the air “That’s why I have a proposal,” 

He stares, absolutely dumbfounded. You turn again towards him. 

“I want to get to know you. And keep confessing to you,” You say first, and Rin immediately goes to reject you until you put your hands up “And I want you to keep rejecting me.” 

He’s baffled. Really. 

“What?” 

“So I can gradually lose my feelings for you. Nothing that different on your end, honestly..” 

It sounds annoying. It really does. If it were anyone else, under any other circumstance he would scoff and tell them to deal with their own shitty feelings alone just like everyone else. But there’s no hidden intention there. Rin’s always been good at sniffing that out. Your words are pure as can be.

Frustratingly simple and twice as sincere, no matter how confusing the whole thing is. 

“Why should I?” 

“We can be friends,” You reply like it’s the best deal he could ask for. “Isn’t that enough? Not like you really have any right now.” 

He scoffs bitterly albeit he can’t counter you. 

“Friendship is lukewarm. I don’t care about any of that stuff,” 

“Lukewarm? Really? Then..think of it like I’ll be your shield. You hate when people socialize with you right? I’ll help you deal with it.” 

That doesn’t sound too bad actually. On top of that, he’s kind of curious what your deal is. He rolls his eyes at you, turning to face the other way. 

“Do whatever you want. It’s not like it matters.” 

His response makes you beam. He hears you shout from the otherside of the yard, followed by the sound of your footsteps noisily thudding against the concrete as you try to catch up with him. He walks faster than you just to spite you for earlier, but he hears your last words through a huff of breath. 

“Jeez, you’re fast. I’ll see you at lunch, be prepared!” 

Somehow, he feels like he’s crossed paths with something he shouldn’t’ve. 

__

You keep up with your end of the deal with Rin to the best of your ability. 

The upsides of your arrangement is that the usual annoyances Rin has to deal with have decreased significantly in the time you’ve been hanging around him. You’re very good at using your speech to sway conversations one way or the other without upsetting the other party.

Normally, Rin’s rejections for different things leave a bitter taste in the air. He’s never been good at mincing his words for anyone and while it doesn’t affect him - the strange stares and whispers he gets are a little annoying to deal with. People always take his disinterest personally. Rin has always hated that. He was probably a little gentler about the denial before but still. 

While other people are too stupid to pay it any mind, you’re clever at turning the tides your way. You always manage to completely divert their questions without making them feel uncomfortable. Rin has tried, many times, to actually break down how you’re doing it. He doesn’t think he’d ever be able to replicate it, no matter how much he studies you. 

He’s reluctant to admit it, but really, your presence has significantly lowered the number of obstacles in his daily life and made him overall, less irritable. 

Instead of many annoying things, there’s only you. Which is tolerable in comparison. 

You also expect him to uphold his end of the deal. For the most part, this has just meant you inserting yourself into his usual activities. It started out small enough, mostly just you sitting with him during lunch. It draws too much attention to eat in the classroom so you both fuck off to the roof. 

(You often joke about how romantic it is, reminiscing on your rejected first love with as much melodrama as you can muster. 

Rin never laughs about it to your face, but he admits it’s funny. Your stupidity is mildly amusing, at least ) 

There, you eat lunch together. Rin learns you make yourself colorful bentos from time to time- though some days are much less elaborate than others. You like to unwind that way, your designated and nightly me-time. You work part-time, and you take care of your neighbors kids by helping them every morning and night. 

Rin doesn’t ask you for more, not willing to deliberately show interest. 

But you notice his curiosity for better or for worse and explain that she, the woman next door, used to make you dinner back when your parents were too busy. You have an older brother who's nearly twelve years your senior so you were alone for most of your childhood. She had children late, but they feel like your little siblings. So you help them in the mornings and in the evenings when you have time. 

Rin learns you, funnily enough, have a sense of obligation towards other people that he can’t fully comprehend. He forgot there were people like that. In an environment like Bluelock that is so dead set on fostering ego, it’s easy to forget something so simple. 

You haven’t confessed to him again since that time. Not like he’s expecting it, but given your personality he wonders why. He thought it’d be more of a daily occurence, something like a bit you did. But you never do. Even when at times, it’s so heavy in the atmosphere even he can tell you want too. 

Admittedly, Rin wonders a lot more about you than he cares to. He wonders why you spend so much time with him when you have plenty of other friends who seem to cherish you. He wonders why you care so much about the dying club you're in. He wonders if this, in some strange way, stems from some kind of obligation.

He wonders, sometimes, what about him you could even like. It’s probably something stupid. You’d probably think long and hard before going on to say that you like him because he’s handsome or cool. Something shallow and meaningless. 

He tells himself that when he starts thinking about it again. 

__

Rin gets roped into cleaning the classroom with you. 

He’s used to being paired with other people. But he’s never had to do with you before, even in the years prior. Or maybe he did. He doesn’t recall much of his first year. 

Still, now that it’s already mid-May, Rin has never been on cleaning duty with you. He’s conscious of the sound of your name these days. It’s not something he’s happy about. 

It’s a simple affair. Just 15 or 20 minutes. Nothing to talk about. Not really. 

But, today you’re alone with him. Alone in an empty classroom with light pouring through the windows and reflecting off of the wooden desks. You’re busying yourself with wiping down the chalkboard, humming quietly. Rin has the broom and dust pan, slowly working himself towards the front of the room. 

It’s mostly quiet. Just your humming. The soft thud of a dust pan, a gentle brush of the bristle. 

Rin feels a crick in his neck, half-way done with the task at hand. He stares at you, off in the front. In your own little world as you fix everything up diligently without turning your head to look up at him even once. 

The nape of your neck is visible from the way you’re standing. There’s a chain there. Do you wear a necklace under your uniform? He can see the slope of your shoulders. The light reflects on you. 

It stops him dead in his tracks. All he can hear is the quiet. The soft humming of your voice. The thud of the dust pan, the woosh of an eraser. The gentle bristle of a broom. The sound of his own heartbeat, a little louder than it was a minute ago. 

He shakes his head. He goes back to sweeping. 

__

“Why do you look like that?” 

You look depressed. For Rin, this expression on you is unusual. You do look sad sometimes.  Somber, occasionally but the look you have on your face right now is down right harrowing. You’re staring blankly out into the open, sitting in the usual spot the two of you have lunch at. But you’ve hardly touched your food and your favorite juicebox (a lunchtime staple) doesn’t have a straw in it yet. 

It’s freaking him out, quite frankly. He stares at you, waving a hand in front of your face until you click back into reality. You jump in your skin at the sight of him before taking a deep breath once you’ve realized who’s in front of you. 

“Oh. It’s just you. Sorry,” You say, immediately going for your juice. See? “What did you say?” 

He sighs, sitting down next to you with his own lunch. Nothing special, something his mom likes to pack when he’s at home - though he doesn’t often take it. He opens up his own tin, taking chopsticks out attached from the top. 

“I asked why you looked like that.” 

“Like what?” 

“Like someone just died.” 

You look at him morbidly, clasping your hands and leaning forward with your elbows on your knees. 

“My midterm grades,” You say solemnly, voice wavering ever so slightly “They’re detestable. A shame to my bloodline.” 

Rin looks at you plainly. 

“Aren’t you an idiot to begin with?” 

“Hey! I’ll have you know I’m average. Super average. But I scored even lower than usual and I’m concerned. I need to do well on the next one and on my entrance exams.” 

Oh, right. Rin forgot since he has no plans to take any. 

“Do you know what you want to do for college?” He asks, mostly out of obligation. 

“I want to study journalism.” There’s a wispiness to your way of speaking. It gives the air a sentimental feel. “There’s a private university with a good program I want to get into but they’re kind of tough. So I have to focus and do well,” 

“What subject are you struggling with?” 

You deflate all over again. 

“Chemistry and Classical Japanese,” 

Rin does well in both subjects. He thinks it over, and decides he can consider this payback. That’s all it is. He’s never liked owing people for favors and while you say this much is enough - Rin can rest assured about your little deal if he’s actually been of use to you in return. He remains impassive as he takes a sip of water. 

“Do you want me to help you study?” 

You turn to him immediately, suddenly full of life. He doesn’t like the gleam in your eyes, an immediate regret settling in as he stares at you, eyes full of disdain. You don’t hesitate grabbing his hand, putting it to your forehead and bowing deeply as you face him. You’re like a fly that keeps buzzing around him. 

“Are you serious? Really? Forreal? Do you mean it?” 

“If you keep being  a dipshit I’m going to take it back,” 

You pull away, hands folded in your lap, going stone faced.

“I would be very grateful,” You say, hands clasped in front of your face. He rolls his eyes. 

“Don’t get the wrong idea,” He says bluntly, staring out into space “I just don’t want to owe you any favors.” 

This you laugh at, leaning back on the wall behind you - with your legs stretched out. 

“Don’t worry,” You reply, self-assured. “Somehow, you asking me to study with you so innocently really cements it in that you don’t have a shred of affection for me.” 

Something in him stirs. He ignores it. 

“Never in a million years.” 

You laugh light-heartedly. 

“You’re so cold to me, Itoshi-kun.” 

“You still call me that.” He grimaces. You stare at him confused. 

“How else would I call you?” 

“When you use my last name it reminds me of my brother,” 

“...Are you implying I should use your first name?” 

Oh. Shit. That is what he sort of said, isn’t it? 

“No,” He denies, somehow unable to come up with anything worthwhile “Don’t address me at all.” 

“Eh? But that’s impossible? I can try but,” 

Only an idiot like you would think to actually try. He shakes his head. It’s no good after all. 

“Shut up,” He decides, because there’s not anything else he can think to say “We can study at the library.” 

You’re quick to reject the proposal. 

“We have to pick somewhere else. Like a cafe or something,” You say, not looking at him. You have your phone pulled up now, looking for places nearby. He’s lost again. 

“What? Why? Isn’t it easier if it’s at school?” 

You glance over at him wide-eyed, before suddenly smiling. It’s a knowing smile, almost like you feel sorry for him. He wants to ask why you look like that. It’s weirdly guarded and he hates that from you. He stares at you, trying to will you to explain yourself. You’re good at reading his thoughts, frustratingly enough, so he’s not accustomed to asking. 

Which means your lack of answer is deliberate, and even with the pressure he’s putting on you, you don’t budge.

“Trust me on this one,” You voice light and airy. “It’s better if we find somewhere away from school, too. There’s still some time to look, so no rush.” 

He lets it go because he doesn’t have any other choice. Lunch passes and you talk like everything's normal.

The question lingers in the back of his mind. 

__ 

Rin spends most of his time between classes watching soccer. If he has some free time on his day off, he’ll look for a new movie to watch. There’s a new foreign film coming out from a director who he really likes and he’s just finished watching the trailer.

Thirsty, with nothing to do - he stands to his feet and briefly surveys the classroom. He wants a drink and there’s a vending machine down the hallway with a sports drink that tastes like..something. 

His airpods are close to being dead so there’s no music as he makes his way. He’s not a fan of being forced to listen to the chatter of the general populace so it’s not that hard to ignore.  

It catches his attention when he hears your name in passing before turning the corner of the hall. It stops him dead in his tracks, something tense left in the syllables after . He doesn’t know why he stopped, not exactly. He figured it’d be annoying if his presence caused a ruckus. 

He’s used to people talking about you, though they usually describe you as a busybody. The Senpai who’s everywhere. A hand in every jar, or something like that. But there’s a tone to that, mild amusement - never malice, that Rin is more than accustomed to. 

This is not that, he notices. He leans on the wall and listens. A group of girls. Some of the voices he recognizes. They’re from the third year classroom down the hall. 

“It’s like, I don’t know,”  Eto-san, he thinks. She’s come up to him before, more times than he can really count on one hand. Rin knows the type. Kind but not really. To the point it’s hard for anyone to call her out on it. “It’s weird how much she hangs around him. She’s not a bad girl or anything,” 

The addition makes Rin’s eye twitch. Yeah. He’s very familiar with this type. He keeps listening. Another voice, but he has no idea who this one is. 

“Really? But Senpai is pretty kind to me,” 

“Mm, I guess so. I just wonder if it makes Itoshi-kun uncomfortable, you know? With pushy people like that, it doesn’t matter how blunt you are. I just worry about him a bit.” 

If it wasn’t so annoying to listen in, Rin would laugh. He’s never understood girls. Especially not highschool ones. He doesn’t pay attention to that kind of social hierarchical shit to begin with, only forced to acknowledge it because other people do. None of it matters to him.

He does think back to what you said a week ago, about finding a place away from school to study. It clicks. You probably know they talk about you like this. Or you could surmise this outcome. Rin should expect that level of awareness from you. Sincere. Always attuned to everyone. Of course this is something you know but he doesn’t. 

Why didn’t you tell him? That’s annoying. It’s nothing he couldn’t deal with knowing. He would’ve got it if you explained it earlier. 

“Oh wow, you really care about him Eto-san,” 

There’s a soft chuckle that makes Rin annoyed. Is he supposed to feel grateful? They’ve barely spoken to each other.

“It’s not like that. It must be hard since he missed second year, that’s all.” 

With that, Rin decides to turn the corner. 

He’s a little pleased at the reaction. How everyone goes into complete silence when he arrives. He spares her a glance as he moves towards the vending machines, clicking in the buttons. A generic sports drink comes tumbling out of the bottom, and Rin grabs it with deliberate slowness - drawing out the unease. 

Eto-san gives him a blank stare before suddenly looking cheerful. She seems a little panicked, quickly trying to make conversation with him. The words don’t reach his ears as he stares down at her expressionlessly.

“Are you done?”  He says, ice-cold. She stutters at that. Rin suppresses a smile. 

“Oh, uhm, yeah. Sorry, were you busy?” 

“Yeah,” He says back, completely apathetic. 

He doesn’t plan on saying anymore in the first place. The little victories count. 

It does feel like some kind of magic when he hears your voice from the other end of the hallway. You’re practically shouting it, and following is the sound of the hall monitors telling you off for running as you barrel toward him full speed. He can hear the thud of your sneakers all the way till they skid to a stop. 

You’re out of breath, bent over your knees and messy as you put a hand up. Most times, he would be embarrassed. He’d even tell you off for being such an idiot. Right now, he finds the corners of his lips upturned as he stares at you from where you stand. 

“Oh, hey guys. Sorry, I had some business with this guy. Oh, Fujita-chan, your hair is cute today! I like how it looks up on you,”  You say, to the girl who was calling you kind just a minute ago “I hope he wasn’t too cruel to you. He’s actually afraid of women, it’s a generational curse. Every night he turns into a frog and—” 

You shuffle in front him, arms stretched out like a shield. He sticks his leg out and kicks your shin. You yelp in pain. 

“What the hell are you talking about? Shut up.” 

“Ow, you strong bastard. You’re a soccer player, please be more conscious of your kicks. What if you shattered my shin? I know you’re loaded but it’s the principle of the thing, you know—” 

“Stop talking or I’ll kick you a second time.” 

You go silent immediately. 

“Forgive me, Itoshi-sama. I’ve strayed from the path of righteousness. Alas, the people need you.” You say, turning around. 

“Speak clearly.” 

“Homeroom teacher wanted to double check with you about after graduation plans and told me to go get you.” 

“Why you?”

“I was already walking around for the newspaper club.” 

He nods, not needing any more explanation. 

“H-hey, aren’t you acting too friendly with him?” 

So she decided to speak. This makes you falter, just a little, and Rin detests the look of self-satisfaction on her face. He speaks this time. It’s not like he can’t fight any of his own battles. 

“It’s fine,” He says, not bothering to think about it. He looks at you, as you stare back at him where he stands, wide-eyed. Idiot. “I don’t mind.”

You grin at him. Big and rounded and stupid, with all of your teeth like you’re giddy. If the hallway monitor wasn’t up your ass, he figures you’d be skipping about now. You usher him into the hall, back where he came from, waving them off.

“Be seeing you guys, then! Bye!” 

And you’re off. It’s quiet until you’re both completely out of ear-shot. Before he can go any further you stand in front of him, hands behind your back with a dumb look on your face. He already knows what you’re going to say. 

“Hey. I really like you a lot. Just now… my heart was fluttering. I thought I was hallucinating,” 

“You’re a moron,” 

“Ahhh, what should I do? I’m all hot under the collar. Is this what it’s like being a maiden in love? It’s great.” 

“How can you say that knowing I’ve already rejected you?” 

“It’s because you’ve rejected me, I can say that.” 

And Rin doesn't really get it. He’s not sure he ever will. 

But you seem happy enough. He decides against prying. 

__

Somehow, you’ve ended up at Rin’s house. 

He doesn’t know how it happened. Really. 

He mentioned to his mother off-handedly that he needed to help someone study. He should’ve lied about it then, but coming off of running drills makes him pretty stupid. He uses most of his brain power when he trains. So in an altered state of mind due to dehydration, hunger and general exhaustion - he answered  honestly instead of lying. 

You’re helping someone study? Yes, they’re from my class. 

Is it a boy or a girl? A girl. We’re friends. 

You can’t study at the library? She doesn’t want to, so we’re trying to find somewhere else. 

Why not invite her here, if her parents are okay with it? Her parent’s don’t really pay enough attention to be bothered. 

Wait, what is he saying? 

Rin doesn’t know how it happened. Really. Really. He tried pretty hard to reject his mothers advances about the situation but he’s never been one to upset her. The whole thing with Sae really tore her up so they both had a silent agreement to try and get along at home. And since Rin is still living at home for now, he tries harder to listen to her. Even so, he wasn’t planning on yielding for this one. 

Rin is not immune to his mothers guilt. A long lecture about how her only sons never cared about anything but soccer and how she’s worried she’s never going to have grandchildren later, he finally gave in and gave you a call at his dinner table. 

He was hoping you would come through and reject the offer. Say something stupid about how that’s dangerous territory for a young girl in love and let his mom down gently. He forgot about your whole thing about responsibility and being a nice girl who gets along well with adults. 

And now, the door is ringing and Rin knows he’s going to open it to you. He mostly blames himself for not thinking ahead.

Rin opens the door on a Saturday afternoon and the first thing he thinks is that you’re not wearing your uniform. 

You look…different. It’s weird. Your hair is styled in an unusual way, tied with something like ribbon. You’re wearing something flowy and loose but the neck is a little rounder than usual. There’s a necklace there, a heart-pendant with a chain. You have in...earrings. 

Rin thinks vaguely that you look…something. He doesn’t know. But in his vision you’re like a troublesome and amorphous blob that yammers on about nothing. And right now you look…not like that. 

“You’re dressed up.” Are the first words to come out of his mouth. You blink at him owlishly.

“Oh. Yeah. I wanted to make a good impression on your mom so I tried not to look sloppy.” You say sheepishly. He leans against the doorframe. 

“She doesn’t care about stuff like that.” 

“Well I do, okay? Now, can I come in?” 

“The white slippers are for you.”

He steps aside and lets you in. You have perfect manners. He probably should’ve expected that. You take your shoes off neatly and place them on the rack the same way, slipping your feet into the slippers provided. Rin just watches, eyes tracing the curve of your neck. 

“Where’s your mom?” You ask.

“In the kitchen making dinner. You’re staying for dinner right?” 

You blink at him, surprised. 

“I mean it’s not like I can’t.” 

“She’d be upset if you didn’t.” He says noncommittally before walking you down to the kitchen. 

His mother is right where he expects. He stands in the corner as you shuffle in watching on. She turns around to look at you, wiping her hands on her apron. 

“Oh, my, you must be Rin’s friend? Such a lovely girl. Welcome! Welcome.” 

To this, you bow your head as deep as it can go. The air around you feels serious. Rin scoffs internally. There’s a strange feeling in his chest that he can’t describe, seeing you bowing in front of his mom. An itch he can’t reach, locked tight around his ribs. 

You give his mother your name first and she smiles like she’s absolutely delighted just hearing it. 

“Thank you for having me. I brought some fruit with me as a gift, I hope that’s alright.” 

His mom shoots him a look that Rin deflects by turning away, opening the plastic bag you’ve handed to her. 

“Oh my! Aren’t these expensive fruits? Please thank your parents for me!” 

“Oh no, don’t worry about that. I work part-time, so I paid for them myself. It was the least I could do. I’m grateful for the tutoring.” 

You tense up, realizing that might’ve been an awkward thing to say. It isn’t. Even if it was, Rin’s mother has always been soft-hearted. His dad tells him they’re a lot alike but Rin doesn’t see it. Whatever it may be, Rin’s mom is too doting and too sociable to let you feel bad. Right now she seems emotional, an expression between empathy and pride. She reaches for you like it’s the most natural thing in the world, patting your head gently.

“How diligent. Thank you, then, for the fruit.” 

Rin can’t see your face but it’s easy to picture. 

“Of course. And pardon the intrusion! And uhm, thank you for having me for dinner.” 

Clumsy. Rin thinks you’re clumsy. A flickering light. His mom laughs brightly and tells you not to worry. She leans in closer like she’s whispering but Rin can hear her loud and clear. 

“Rin can be very brash but he’s a good boy, so thank you for being kind to him.” 

He feels embarrassed. Even readies himself to intervene. 

“He is very kind to me.” 

Wait. What?

His mom smiles even brighter, and mouths something like ‘take care of her’ when you’re not looking. He wants to stop it before it starts. You’re not dating. You’re hardly even friends, you’re just here to study. Rin almost wants to shout it, but he’s stuck. Before he can do any of that, you’re turning around and smiling like you haven’t said anything strange. 

What do you mean he’s kind to you? When his whole thing is rejecting you mercilessly? Being cruel?

What kind of person would ever describe him as kind? 

He can’t find the words he wants to say, so he takes you to his room in silence. 

__

You both make it to Rin’s room in one piece.

You’ve been studying now for about an hour. Given your personality, Rin was expecting more of a fuss. He thought you’d make some comment about being in a boys room and then fight off the actual studying like the plague. 

Much to his surprise, you started studying with him right away. Rin tries his best to tutor you, though he does make fun of you in the process. But you’re a try-hard all the same, stopping only to ask questions and get clarification occasionally.

You’ve been focused that whole time, miraculously enough. Rin studies too, but only a bit, after deciding to study some recent matches instead. 

( Every now and again, he’ll glance at you. Just to see if you’re stuck or still working. Each time, he gets caught up on the fact you’re not in your uniform and has to tear his eyes away. ) 

After a bout of silence, you yawn out loud, quietly shutting your workbook. 

“I’ve finished all my practice problems for today,” You announce, before deciding to lay down on his floor “I’m beat.” 

“I thought you were gonna give up before you started.”  Rin admits. You frown at him. 

“I was serious about needing tutoring. Thanks for all your help.” 

“I already told you it’s fine. Is there anything else? Finals are next week.” 

You shake your head. 

“Mm, I don’t think so. One of the guys from the newspaper club helped me with math so I’ll be okay.” 

…Huh? 

“From the newspaper club?” 

“Huh? Yeah. Murata-senpai. We’re in the same year. He’s a few months older so he insists on making me call him Senpai.” 

“And he helped you with math?” 

“Yeah. He was a delinquent like, all of first year but he really cleaned up his act. He’s actually really gentle.”

Rin frowns at that. 

“Do people usually describe delinquents as gentle?”  

You make a noise of indignance from where you’re laid on his floor. 

“Hey. Murata-senpai is really nice, okay? And he is gentle, so I won’t tolerate your usual judginess.” 

Rin rolls his eyes. 

“How’d you even meet him?” 

“Uh…I wanted to write a column about him, basically. He was helping in the garden last year and I kinda…stalked him. It sounds worse than it is. I just wanted to know what made him change.” 

“So stalking people is pretty typical for you.” 

You sit up and gape at him. Rin suppresses a laugh. 

“Anyways. I eventually flagged him down for an interview. Apparently, he had a real scare with his granny getting sick and decided he needed to cut the shit. He’s a good guy. He joined the newspaper club after the interview,” 

“After the interview…?” 

You nod, leaning forward with your elbows on the table in front of you. 

“Uh-huh. Said he was interested because of my passion or something. He’s been really nice to me ever since and helps me with all of the ideas I have.” You soften as you talk about it. Rin feels an ugly emotion in his chest “I’m worried about what will happen to the club after graduation, but Senpai is always encouraging me to make the most out of the time we still have. So I’m really thankful for him. That’s why you have to be nice.” 

Rin is super annoyed. He doesn’t know why he’s so annoyed but he is. How do you not realize this guy likes you? He doesn’t know why he’s opening his mouth to tell you what’s so obvious. It’s not like it really matters. Rin doesn’t like you in the first place, so if he informs you that your beloved Murata-senpai has feelings for you - it’s no big deal. 

In fact it might be better for everyone if you realize. He’s just frustrated by how clueless you can be sometimes. 

“He’s interested in you,” Rin says, against his better judgment. It feels like the words are welling up in his throat “Your senpai or whatever.” 

You blink at him stupidly. He wonders if you’re wearing mascara. 

“Huh? I doubt that somehow. Senpai is kind to me but I think he sees me like a little sister.” 

He scoffs at you. 

“You would think that. Most guys aren’t just nice to girls they don’t like.” 

“Not everyone is like you, yanno.” You say back without thinking twice. That’s not the point this time, he wants to say. And he’s right for this one. Anyone else with half of a brain would realize. You’re just… you. Which means you’re absolutely unaware of things pertaining to you. It’s the only reason he can think you’d deny something so obvious. 

The only reason you could come to the house of a boy you liked just to study. 

“Shut up. I’m saying this because you’re too much of a dumbass to put it together on your own. The guy definitely likes you.” 

“I didn’t know you were a love guru,” You say sarcastically, sticking your tongue out at him. Childish. Annoying “It doesn’t matter if he does.” 

“Why wouldn’t it matter?” 

You give him an incredulous look. 

“Unfortunately my heart is captured by an aloof sportsman.” 

He doesn’t know why he feels relieved when you say that. He feels his heart all the way in his throat like he’s going to throw it up, even though his expression remains impassive. 

“You already know I don’t like you, though. It’s a good opportunity, isn’t it? Don’t a lot of people move on that way.”

You shake your head. 

“I’m not that sort of wishy-washy woman.” You reply, huffing your chest up and trying to ease the tension. You stop to shake your head, a small smile on your face. “You wouldn’t get it even if I explained.” 

“It’s annoying when you do that,” Rin voices, not bothering to cut it any other way “You did that with the girls at school too. I’m never gonna get it if you don’t bother explaining it to me.” 

You soften at this, then whisper. 

“...Why do you care?” But it’s not said with any malice. It’s not said sadly either. Just curious. He freezes, but doesn’t let it show. He wants to ask himself the same question. 

“I don’t. It’s just,” And he scoffs, not looking at your face “It’s a pain.” 

You hum, not expecting more of an answer. 

“I want to treasure my own feelings towards you,” You say, and something in Rin feels like it’s being set on fire. “It’s not just about having a boyfriend. If it was, then I’d consider Senpai's feelings.” 

“...So it’s about me, specifically?” 

“Yeah,” You say without offering any more explanation than that “It is. I like you.”

The words but why, linger in the air. You seem to be feeling merciful, as you lean back on your palms and stare up at his ceiling. You wear your heart outside of your body, more often than not. And he thinks that part of you is so hard to get used to. 

“You’re really awkward. And aloof. And you don’t have any friends.” 

“Is this some kind of revenge or…?” 

“But. You’re also sensitive. The more I know you, the more I think you’re kind and well-meaning. You uh, remind me of a cat.” 

He blinks. 

“A cat?” 

“A cat. Sometimes they want their own space. And sometimes they knock your water off your desk for fun. Plus they only really care about people in their own circle,”

“Again, is this—” 

“Let me finish, jeez. They’re solitary creatures. But like when they accept you, they get comfortable. An’ nice . And they look out for you in their own way. To me you’re a lot like that.” 

You give him a smile so warm it makes his back hot. So loud and so vibrant like it burst out of him at any minute. 

“I’ve uh, always been interested in you. I watched you play in Bluelock too. I kept thinking to myself, there’s something about you. I want to know more, even if it’s just a little. Stuff like that.” You talk so quietly yet it’s all Rin can hear. All Rin can see in his vision is you. All Rin can think about is you. “I’ve always been interested in other peoples stories.  So I thought, what a waste it would be, to throw away that feeling because of something like love or like. I thought, ‘What's your story, Itoshi Rin?’” 

Rin doesn’t know what to say so he chooses to say nothing. 

“When I confessed, I knew you would never like me. Because that’s just the sort of person everyone says you are. Still, what a waste, right? You miss all the shots you don’t take or whatever. So, I wanted to get to know you. I guess.”  

“I don’t get it. I get what you’re like but it still doesn’t make any sense. There’s nothing special to know, is there?” 

“Feeling that is special, don’t you think? That’s a special reason to me.” 

He doesn’t follow. You laugh lightly. 

“If I never became interested in Murata-senpai’s story, I would’ve never been his friend. If I gave up on trying to know you, just because you didn’t return to my one-sided feelings, then I would’ve never gotten to know you either. Don’t you think that’s a waste?” 

Rin doesn’t know. He’s never really cared about it. He’s rejected so many confessions and never once thought enough about any of them in any depth. That part of you is foreign. He can chalk it up to a difference in character. He can’t understand wanting to know someone just because. 

(Or maybe he can. He just hasn’t until now. Until this very moment, suspended in time. Where he wants to know what things make you the way you are.) 

Some small, dark part of him wants to ask why. Over and over until his throat feels raw - long enough to understand it. Even as he grips onto that desire so tight, with such bruising force, the words sit in his mouth. They taste like iron. They taste like a bitten tongue. If you’ve watched him all this time, then you know. Being chosen. He’s never been confident in that. Rin wants to ask, why him? 

What’s so special? Enough to keep talking to him? Enough to do any of this? Is getting to know people is always this difficult, he wonders. Does it always feel uncomfortable to be in proximity with someone? 

In the end, he can’t bring himself to ask. He can’t even bear to examine it in himself, the sense of dread washing over him like sickness. He’s nauseous. And this time, there’s a residue of tension he’s finding increasingly difficult to ignore. 

You come through again. He wonders if you can read his mind just like you do with all the nobodies at school. 

“Rin-kun,” You say, your voice like the summer heat. “Getting to know you makes me feel like my feelings aren’t a waste. I’m happy getting to know you. I want to treasure that.” 

What happens when you run out of things to know? The question is too heavy. He settles on a different one. He wants to understand it more. Just to put himself at ease. 

“Isn’t being in the same room with someone who rejected you uncomfortable?” 

“Maybe. But there’s a clear line for me and you, so it’s cool. In like, ten years, maybe someone will interview me about you. As your classmate and stuff. And I’ll go - ‘He’s actually a really nice guy. I actually had a crush on him.’ If I can say that, without being regretful, then that’ll be enough for me.” 

“That’ll be enough for you? Really?” 

“Really.” 

“You’re so weird.” He says, unsure of what else he could possibly say. You giggle, and lay back down on his floor. 

“I knew you’d say that.” 

__ 

Summer comes. 

It doesn’t occur to Rin how often he sees you in school until it all comes to  a halt. He has your number, and you text him often - about unimportant and trivial shit that you think of. In that way, it doesn’t even really feel like you’ve separated. 

But the sudden absence of your chattering in his life makes everything feel especially quiet. Summer is a boring time for Rin. It’s mostly the same. Practicing and playing and studying. On the few occasions he’s been out, it’s because some of the other Bluelock members are gathering and refuse to let him know even a breath of peace.

He’s seen Sae now, though they never really talk about anything. Sort of just look at each other and exchange enough words that their mom doesn’t cry before going back to their room. Sae will be gone before school starts back up again, so Rin isn’t all that worried about it. 

It occurs to Rin for the first time that this summer will be the last of his highschool days. He’s never been sentimental about stuff like that - so he figures you’re to blame for these sudden thoughts. 

Your summer has been a lot busier than his. He should probably expect this from you by now, but your surprisingly youthful social life always shocks him. You’ve been working part-time as usual. In that time though, you’ve also been to the beach and been on an overnight trip to Osaka with your newspaper club. 

(Rin wasn’t happy to hear about this. He was relieved to know it was with a teacher and that you roomed with a girl. But still, not exactly his favorite of anecdotes for the summer.) 

You’ve invited Rin more than once to come hang out with you, but he’s basically always declined. The group setting is troublesome, but being alone with you feels even worse somehow. It wouldn’t be a date, obviously, but it would be something. Something deliberate. 

Rin doesn’t know if he can come see you in good faith for such a reason. 

It’s another day spent doing his usual. Being technical, it’s a rest day, which means he’s only allowed to stretch. He has done his basics. Studied, messed around with his ball, responded to a barrage of texts from Bachira and Isagi. He played games for a while, checking out a new horror game before deciding it’d be best not to get too sucked in so he has something to play next time. 

After all that, during a mid-August day while Rin sits on his couch and watches T.V., he receives a facetime call from you for the very first time. At first, he just lets it ring. But when it keeps ringing - he figures your persistence is going to continue unless he replies. 

He looks around. No one's home, so he doesn’t need to go to his room. He swipes, and the call connects. The screen shows him, propped up against something with a full shot of your room. You’re turned away from the camera. Rin just stares. 

“Oh, shit - did you actually pick up?” 

“Should I hang up.” 

“No! No, I just wasn’t expecting you. Don’t hang up. I need a guy's opinion.” 

“What? What for?” 

“I got in a fight with my brother about a dress I bought,” You say, exasperated, and Rin is surprised because you hardly see him. “I know he’s probably looking out for me but I don’t think we talk enough for him to be telling me how to dress.” 

“He’s older than you, right? Maybe you should listen to him.” 

“You’re the last person I want to hear that from. Either way, I’m not a kid. I’m already 18 and I’m going to college. It’s a cute dress! I feel like it’s fine.”

“So..why’d you call me again?” 

“I’m gonna try it on and show you. Murata-senpai is busy.” 

“You shouldn’t do that to a guy who likes you.” Rin deadpans. You laugh.

“Shut up. I really need an opinion. I wanted to wear it to go out today so if it’s actually too provocative then I have to change my outfit.” 

“Where are you even going?” 

“My friend needs to get a concealer, so probably the mall or something. After that I’ll go buy some stationary.” 

“Alone? What about your friend?” 

“She’s gonna go see her boyfriend.” 

“Why can’t you just go with them? Or ask them to go with you” 

“And third wheel? I’m good. I just need some stationary and then I’ll be home. Easy peasy. Anyway, what’s with the interrogation?” 

“It’s not interrogation.” He insists. You’re offscreen so Rin can’t see you, but he can hear the sound of a zipper echo in the speakers. He’s also sure you’re rolling your eyes. 

When you come on camera, the dress of the hour is on display. Rin’s first thought is to tell you to take it off. It is too provocative to him. The front is fine as is, but it’s nearly backless and it’s cut too high on your thighs. He’s never seen so much of your skin. Maybe that’s a given, since he didn’t go to the beach with you either. 

You give him a quick spin, before patting the front down. You say something, but the words don’t register. It feels like his brain is full of cotton or something. 

“So? Too much? I mean it’s backless but like. I don’t know, it’s kind of loose? And the sleeves are long. Neckline isn’t that bad, either.” 

Rin just says what he thinks “You shouldn’t go out alone wearing it.” 

You frown at him. 

“That’s not helpful, Rin-kun.” 

“It’s…fine. What time does your friend have to go?” 

“Probably right after we’re done.” 

He sighs. 

“Tell her to go with her boyfriend early. I’ll come with you to get your stationary.” 

“Wait, what? Did I hear that right? You’re coming to get me? After I’ve been hounding you to hang out? What’s with the change of heart?” 

“I don’t have anything to do since it’s a rest day. You need stuff and I don’t think you should be out alone. Don’t read into it.” 

“Kinda hard not too but I’m not gonna complain. Are you coming right now?” 

“Yeah. Send me your address.” 

__ 

Rin has no idea what impulse has brought him here. 

That’s not entirely true. What brought him to your apartment towards the end of summer is impulse. He acted on nothing but impulse.

Rin, for better or for worse, finds that you’re clueless about yourself. The fact you were going to call Murata-senpai is already bothering him enough. That, along with the fact you wore the dress and didn’t think it was too short is troubling. It’s not that Rin wants to tell you what not to wear. He doesn’t have the right but you did ask. 

Anyway, it’s a lot less agitating if you’re being accompanied while wearing it. Going alone in something like that, even if it’s the middle of summer, would be stupid.  

Rin doesn’t make it a habit of worrying about the outfits of girls he doesn’t know. He does know you though. He thinks you’d be really annoying if something happened and you got upset about it. So, all he’s doing is preventing that outcome. It’s nothing more than that. 

He knocks on your door as he shakes the thoughts out of his head, and he’s greeted by a man in his late twenties. It dawns on Rin that this is your brother. He really didn’t think this through. 

Your brother is an imposing person. He’s a head taller than Rin with a gruff voice and a scar on his cheek. Rin stares at him blankly. 

“Who are you?” 

“Itoshi Rin. I’m here for—” 

“Nii-san, tell Rin-kun to come inside and sit! I’m not done getting ready.” 

Your brother glares at him. 

“Who’s he? Your boyfriend? Is that why—” 

You come stumbling out of your room, half-dressed and Rin immediately averts his eyes. This is the most uncomfortable experience of his life.

“He’s not my boyfriend. He already rejected me, so we’re just friends. Stop fussing and let him in, it’s hot out.” 

“He rejected you?” 

Rin should just leave. 

“I already knew he was going to. Now move,” 

Rin doesn’t enjoy being involved in your sibling quarrel. Suddenly, he feels a twinge of regret about some old Bluelock memories. He understands it now more than ever, gaining a little empathy. 

Your brother moves out of the way. You’re standing in the hall, with a single stocking on and powder on your face he’s pretty sure is meant to be brushed. You grin at him. 

“Sorry! I won’t be long, promise. You got here faster than I thought you would.” 

Rin can feel a pair of eyes in the back of his skull. 

“Uh. Yeah. I took the bus so it was quick.” 

“It might be uncomfortable here. Do you wanna sit in my room instead? It’s colder but it’s kind of a mess—” 

“He can sit here.”  Your brother insists. Rin is never leaving his house again. You frown. 

“Didn’t I already tell you we’re not dating? He’s not even interested in me, it’s not like anything is gonna happen.” 

“It’s the principle of it.”  Yeah. Definitely siblings. 

“Whatever. If you make him uncomfortable, I’m gonna yell at you. Rin-kun, sorry. Do you need anything? Juice? Water?” 

Your hospitality throws him off. You’re different at home. 

“Uh. No. I’m okay.” 

“Okay, then I’ll hurry and get dressed. Nii-san, please be civil.” 

With that, you flounce back up to your room. Your brother is staring hard in Rin’s direction. He’s not intimidated. It’s just… so awkward it’s kind of unbearable for him. What do people usually do in this situation? Rin’s not exactly the sociable type.

“She confessed to you?” 

Rin is startled. 

“Uh. Yeah. In April.” 

“And you’re friends?” 

“She asked to be friends.” 

Your brother looks distressed. 

“I don’t understand that girl at all.” 

Rin doesn't either. 

“What’s she like in school?” 

Rin stares. Oh. He’s that kind of older brother. 

“Uh. Busy. She’s in the newspaper club so she’s always doing something. She has a lot of friends and gets along with our class.” 

“I see…that’s good. I’m always worried about her. Our family has  always been busy and I moved out when I was 18 so… we don’t see much of each other. She doesn’t talk about herself that much either.” 

Rin nods absently. What circle of hell is this? 

“She probably thinks I’m just being overprotective,” Bullseye “But I just worry she grew up too fast.” 

Rin thinks if he were a different kind of guy, now would be the time he gives your older brother an encouraging heart to heart. The script is there. It’s just not how he honestly feels. Rin doesn’t take pleasure in defending you. But it’s hypocritical and a little ridiculous to hear it from him.

Some of it is leftover resentment from Sae. The rest is knowing you.

You did grow up too fast. From what he knows about teenage girls, they’re supposed to be…meaner. More hysterical. More inconsiderate. Less responsible and more in the moment. Messy. All teenagers are, really. 

For all the ways you are clumsy and ridiculous, sometimes Rin thinks you’re too off-puttingly mature. It wouldn’t kill you to be more selfish. To be just a little less self-reliant. It’s not normal is it? To be so grateful for things you’re owed. It bothers him. Always has. 

Rin knows what the script is. But it bothers him. 

“If you know that then you don’t really have any right to intervene,” Rin says bluntly. “Suddenly acting protective and considerate when she grew up on her own  is just going to feel stifling. Aren’t you just trying to make yourself feel better?” 

He looks surprised by his answer. Hurt too. 

“I guess that’s right,” 

He frowns. 

“If you actually care, just be honest. She’s not the type of person to turn someone away on a grudge.” 

Before Rin can feel embarrassed about what he’s said, you come stumbling down the steps all dressed up. Your brother gives you a look. 

“Do you need any money?” 

You look at him confused then shake your head no. 

“Okay. Stay safe and have fun.” 

He turns to leave. You watch him go. Rin puts his hands in his pockets like he’s trying to wipe himself of it. 

“Weird… anyways. Ready to go?” 

“Yeah.” 

__ 

Your outing goes well. 

Outing. Not a date. No matter how many times people mistake you two for being on a date today - it was nothing more than an outing. 

You start with stationary for the upcoming term, then you drag Rin to the mall because you need some more clothes. After that, you go into a bookstore to pick up some manga. Rin has fun there because he gets to pick out some new releases and you bond mutually over your tastes. Rin learns both like thrillers. You spend a lot of time together, reading over his shoulder. 

It’s not a date. But it wasn’t bad. He’s so used to talking to you that the entire situation doesn’t feel uncomfortable at all. You’re funnier than he’s usually willing to give you credit for. Doing all that, plus train rides, makes it so you’re not home until sundown. You, however, refuse to end the night without having some kind of treat. After a lot of begging Rin to cheat on his meal plan, the two of you get ice-cream and you drag Rin to a local playground. Apparently you bring your neighbors' kids here sometimes. 

Now he’s here.  Sitting on swings with ice-cream and it is still not a date. Rin has no opinions on the day but you’re practically bursting at the seams with happiness. The dress you’re wearing is hiking up on your thigh from how you’re sitting. He was right to accompany you, by the way. The amount of creeps he’s had to stare down today alone is outright disgusting. 

Rin takes a spoonful of ice-cream and lets it melt in his mouth. You let your feet hit the mulch beneath you as you lick the ice-cream carefully - trying desperately not to let it spill on your hand. He watches on in amusement. After you finally get a handle on it, you give him a small look. 

“I had fun today,” You say sentimentally. Rin feels his stomach tie in knots “Thank you.”

He frowns. 

“Gross. Stop that.” 

“Aw, c’mon. You’re so edgy. Just admit you had fun! You had a fantastic and whimsical time.” 

He gives you an unimpressed stare. 

“Really? Nothing? You’re not feeling the flames of youthful joy in your loins at all?” 

“Describing it like that is disgusting.” 

“So you admit you know what it is.” 

Rin wants to smile. Fuck, he hates you. 

“...It wasn’t bad.” 

You grin. You’re so annoying.

“Ladies and gents, we got an ‘it wasn’t bad’ from the ever soulless Itoshi Rin!” 

Stupid. So stupid.

“It was more tolerable than hanging out with some of my other dipshit friends.” 

You clasp a hand over your mouth dramatically. 

“Oh…Oh wow… Do you want to try proposing next? The set-up is there. Perfect ambience.” 

His face cracks into a begrudging smile. 

“You’re insufferable.” 

You suddenly go quiet. When Rin looks at you, you’re stunned

“Why’re you being weird?” 

“No, sorry, I was just thinking I really like you,” You say, like it’s the easiest and most natural thing in the world “I’ve never seen you smile before. It’s nice.” 

“...Your ability to say cringy shit like that so easily is astounding to me.” 

“I don’t want to hear this from the guy who unironically uses lukewarm,” You say, biting into your ice-cream cone. Rin blushes. “Besides, nothing wrong with being cringe when you’re in love.” 

“Freak.” 

You give him a thumbs up. 

“One of a kind.” 

There’s a beat of silence. It’s comfortable. Rin eats his too, probably a little slower than he has to. Summer feels heavy in the air. 

“You weren’t always like..an edgelord, right?” 

Rin stares at you, perplexed by how sudden the question is. 

“Where’d you hear that from?” 

“Your mom after dinner. You already went upstairs. Said you had a nasty fight with your brother.” 

He doesn’t say anything, posture stiffening at the mention of Sae. 

“It’s not your business.” 

“Hey. No need for the attitude. I’m curious as your number one fan.” You say, trying to back off as much as possible. Like he’s some kind of feral cat you’re trying to calm. “Don’t be mad, okay? You don’t have to talk about it.” 

You try your best to be soothing and Rin softens 

He is angry. Not at you. Not really.  The mention of Sae just does that to him. And if anyone else even thought to bring it up - he’d probably tell them to go fuck themselves with nothing but bitter hatred. 

With you, there’s not any of that. There’s a lingering sense of hesitance - an internal conflict, but not anger. Rin’s never enjoyed opening his heart to anyone. 

Even so, he feels compelled to tell you, so he does.

“My brothers a dick,” Resentment seeps into his words “He came back from overseas and then basically insulted me for a minute straight. We were always meant to play soccer together but he went through something. He changed. We never talked about it,” 

“What? He insulted you for no reason? That’s so weird. Did you always have a bad relationship?” 

Rin sits with himself quietly. 

“I don’t know if we have one now. We were close as kids. At least.” 

“And he just… came back and started being an asshole to you? Seriously?” 

Rin nods. There’s not much else to the story. Rin’s tried hard not to think about the situation itself. He only uses the feelings that stayed behind to make him better. To give him a reason to play - it’s motivation and nothing more. If he starts to view it too much like what it is, betrayal, he’s afraid everything inside of him will collapse. 

“There’s probably more to it than that,” You conclude thoughtfully. Rin thinks the same “But still. You’re his baby brother. Even if he’s going through something…” 

Rin scoffs “You sound like you’re worried about him.” It comes out more petulantly than he expects 

“Not really. Not as much as I’m worried about you,” You counter, giving him a small smile. Rin feels his heart leap into his throat “I just figure, you know, maybe thinking about it like that would help. You were close right? Your mom said he used to dote on you,” 

Rin nods. He feels his chest swell and tighten. 

“Then…I bet it sucked. I bet it was hard. Or at least, it must’ve been lonely to go through that,” You say, frown deepening “Such a sudden change would be hard for anyone to deal with, I think. It’s okay if you feel like it’s unfair. His reasons aside.” 

You sigh, suddenly, covering your hands with your face. 

“What?” Rin asks. You shake your head. 

“You poor thing. I wanna hug you to death you know. A good squeeze. I’m trying to refrain.” You say, stomping your feet just slightly. He feels a flush crawl up his neck, turning his head to look away. 

“...It’s not like I’m stopping you.” 

He doesn’t have the courage to look at you. Not as he says it, or after to steal a glance of what face you're making. Instead, he hears the metal of the chain and feels the warmth of your body. It’s a tight hug. You’re standing and he’s sitting, your arms around his neck, his face directly against your chest. He widens his eyes. He wants to yell at you for being a defenseless idiot, but the feeling of being hugged so tightly washes the words away. You’re soft…and warm. He’s never been hugged by someone who isn’t his mom or brother before, and he can’t remember the last time either thing happened to him. You pat his head. 

Do you touch people like this often? So casually? Or is he special because you like him, he wants to ask. He wants to ask but doesn’t want to know the answer, pushing the feeling down as deep as he can make it go. He wraps his arms around you loosely, above your waist trying to be respectful.  

But he leans into the warmth. Like it’s something that happens once in a lifetime. 

“Hey, Rin.”  You say, soft. He can feel the warmth of your breath against his hair. 

“Hn.” 

“I hope you kick your brother's ass in soccer.” 

You sound teary. Weirdly, it makes Rin feel better. 

“Yeah.”

__ 

School starts up again during September. 

The autumn season welcomes warm colors, fallen leaves and the sort of cool weather that puts the summer uniforms back up on the hangers. Rin is listening to music when he spots you waiting for him at the gate, waving your hand at him. He has half a mind to ignore you, you’re so embarrassing. 

But before he can pretend not to see, you’re jogging over to him. He has to stand so you don’t end up bumping into him. You walk like you were born backwards, two left feet with such little awareness of your surroundings it stresses Rin out. 

He gives you a blank stare as you smile, securing your bag to your shoulder. 

“Look what the cat dragged in,” You say warmly. Rin pauses to look at you. You look different somehow. Lately you always do, Rin wonders if you’ve picked up some weird shape-shifting in your time apart “Are you excited for the new semester, hm? Hmm?” 

He keeps walking and you fall in step with him. You try but he’s too fast, so he slows just a little. He clicks his teeth, shaking his head, eyes taking in the view of the building in front him.

“Why would I be excited?” 

You shrug. 

“Because winter break  is close? Because there’s fun leaves outside? Because it’s your birthday in 6 days?”

He stops dead in his tracks. 

“What the hell? Why do you know that?” 

“Your mom told me.” You say, skipping along happily to school like you didn’t just say something insane. His frown deepens. 

“You have my moms number? You talk to my mom?” 

“She loves me,” You say casually, turning only to look at him and stick your tongue out “And she’s nice. Get over it.” 

With this, you rush into the building faster, giggling as you leave. Rin, frustrated, stomps after you. 

__

Your time together at lunch continues into fall. It’s the third day of the term, September 6th and you’re sitting by his side. The two of you eat in casual silence now, falling into a regular routine. There’s something about the whole ordeal that makes Rin feel a little funny. 

Friendship, as it stands, is still a lukewarm idea to him. But sprawled out next to you in a comfortable quiet isn’t the worst thing. The weather is cool enough to be nice and the daylight lasts for just the right amount of time to see sunset when he treks back home from practicing shooting into the net. 

That kind of sentimental viewing of his surroundings is a bad habit he’s picked up from you. He can’t seem to shake it off. He’s tried at least, but Rin has been stopping to look at everything nowadays. The sun, the trees, the cars passing. Everything passes right by his life, slowly. 

Eventually, eventually this whole thing will cease. You’ll never see Rin again and he’ll never see you - and you’ll part your separate ways. Thinking about that feels so stifling. But he figures since that’s the case, there’s probably not any harm in letting the time pass like this. As long as he’s still improving. 

Your voice doesn’t catch him off-guard anymore, no matter how loud it is after a long bout of silence. You stuff something into your mouth, a tomato he thinks. 

“Rin-kun,” You start, tilting your head to one-side “Are you doing anything for your birthday?” 

“No.” He answers immediately because he never does. He hasn’t done much since Sae left home and now that he’s a third year and about to be 18, there’s even less of a desire to pull together a party and celebrate. 

“What? Boo. That’s so lame.” 

“Don’t be so childish.” 

“I’m older than you, you dummy,” You say with such automation that Rin doesn’t even get the chance to process “You’re not even gonna have cake? Nothing?” 

“My mom might but I don’t have any plans.” 

“Your mom is so nice.” 

“Stop.” 

You frown at him but don’t say any more.  You look like you have something on your mind. Probably something stupid, but Rin can’t help but wonder what’s making your brow crease so intensely. 

“What?” He snips. You flick your eyes to him and shake your head. 

“I just think it’s a waste,” You say simply, that tone of fondness seeping into it that Rin can’t get used to. “It’s such a big number, you know? A little cake and some show tunes or something would suffice.” 

Rin scoffs. 

“I don’t care about it. It’s pointless to me. Lukewarm” He says, before noticing your genuine sadness. He sighs a little to himself “Stop looking like a depressed mutt.” 

“I’m not a dog.” 

“I guess dogs are more well-trained.’ 

“Hey. Hey, what the hell do you mean by that?” 

He ignores you. 

“Anyway, stop worrying about it.”

You pout. 

“Easier said than done.”. 

__ 

Rin’s morning routine has been the exact same for two years. 

He starts by opening the window, to let fresh air and sunlight come in through the glass. He feels like his room gets stale overnight and it wakes him up to taste the sun in the back of his mouth. He takes a deep breath of it, clearing out his lungs and blinking his eyes open. 

After that he stretches. He unfurls a Bluelock brand yoga mat onto his carpeted floor and gets to his usual cycle. It’s integral for an athlete to keep their muscles stretched, functioning like a well-oiled machine. He has it down pat. He starts from the bottom up, stretching his legs and working up to his arms and shoulders. His legs always come first since he’s a striker, always focusing on the mobility of his calves and foot before he stretches out his thigh.

His core, then his chest and arms. When he’s done with all that - he practices yoga for fifteen minutes. Again with mobility but this time full body, like making sure each of his limbs work with each other without any stops. He’ll sit back down after those minutes are up to meditate for another fifteen - clear his mind of absolutely anything stuck in it. It’s the most peace he gets on any given day. 

At the end, he sits with his feelings. Carefully, he undoes the wrapped clothed box around his heart and stares at it as it sits in his lap. Beating and raw and melancholy blue  - so full of sadness and anger like it could burst at any minute. Revisiting his sadness and rage is a necessity. Sometimes it feels like only sadness. Only monochrome. 

(He wonders if a day will come where that part of his routine is changed. If ever, he’ll unwrap his own heart only to see it pink or golden yellow or even a softer shade of red. He wonders if the colors ever change, or if time will fade them.) 

All of this happens before he even brushes his teeth. The rest of his morning routine is keeping his room neat. He folds the comforter on his bed, puts any dirty clothes away, and gets dressed. He doesn’t really style his hair - it’s so pin straight after washing he normally just has to brush it to keep it nice. 

After that he has breakfast, and checks through his bag. On days he has school he goes to school and comes back to practice. If he’s home alone - he picks one of many other things to do. He tends to practice closer to evening, taking a shower before he goes to sleep. 

On the morning of Rin’s 18th birthday, he’s only really acutely aware of the date. His morning starts the exact same as it has everyday for nearly two years. Nothing to make him feel particularly different. When he looks in the mirror, he still sees his brother's face and when he looks at his heart it’s still a steely, melancholy blue. 

When he comes down stairs, though - there’s a pair of shoes he doesn’t recognize. And there’s a humming traveling down the hall and always the way up towards him that he knows quite well. 

He thinks, for a minute, he might still be dreaming. Why you would be in his house on a Saturday morning makes absolutely no sense otherwise. 

He slips his feet into his gray slippers and treks into the living room, only to find you in view of the open kitchen. There’s a balloon attached to flowers and a spread of fruits on the table. Orange juice in a cold glass. You with his moms borrowed apron, humming contentedly as you bend over the stove. 

Rin doesn’t know what the feeling is. He doesn’t know if he’s irritated or not. Just that it’s so overwhelming to see you in his kitchen, marching to the beat of your own drum like you always do. 

“What the hell are you doing in my house?” 

You startle when you hear his voice, whipping around to face him. Dramatically putting a hand on your chest - you shoot him an unfriendly glare. 

“Well hello to you too.” 

“Answer my question.” He demands. You click your teeth. 

“Well, obviously I’m making breakfast. We’re celebrating your birthday.” 

“Without telling me.” 

You snap your fingers before giving him finger guns “Precisely. Genius deduction, Itoshi-sama.” 

“What the fuck. Where are my parents.” 

“They’re out on a day-trip! It’s a Saturday. They’ll be back here on Sunday afternoon. Read the note.” 

“What were you gonna do if I had last minute plans?” 

“You don’t though?” You say like knowing that is so obvious. He knows you asked but still “I guess I’d turn around and make my own breakfast. Give you your gift at school or something.” 

“Why are you here?” He asks a little softer this time. With a little more emotion, just a touch. He never expects anyone to make a fuss about his birthday. 

Rin doesn’t really ask for much. Certainly wouldn’t ask for this on his own accord. That’s a vain thing to do, right? 

It occurs to Rin that this is the kind of birthday you do for someone you like. Someone you love. You’re always confessing your feelings to him. You only say it when you’re sure. It wasn’t like Rin didn’t know you had feelings for him, because the point of it all had been for you to try and get rid of them. Or honor them, or deal with them in whatever way you saw fit. Rin had agreed on a whim to help you with that. Your friendship had started with the very notion that you liked Itoshi Rin and he didn’t like you back. It’s not some secret. 

When the light pours in through the windows and hits your back and for the first time - Rin understands what the fuss is about being in love is. He’s sure that this strange, grotesque warmth is the aftermath of being liked. He always thought it’d feel more simple. That he’d remain unmoved in the face of it because he was different.

It’s not like he’s unloved. He’s sure his parents love him. His brother did too. Still does, Rin thinks. 

But it’s the first time someone has made their feelings so clear to him. Someone who isn’t supposed to love or like him. And even Rin, chronically apathetic, can’t bring himself to ignore the weight of knowing that. He stares at you, dumbstruck. 

You’re still turned to him. There’s a cool tumbler of iced-coffee sitting on the counter that you sip, head tilted to one side. 

“Well, I don’t know,” You start, a hand on your hip “It just felt like too much of a waste to do nothing on your birthday. But you’re not the kind of guy who likes big celebrations. So I thought maybe just hanging out would be more your speed.”

Rin swallows. “Seriously?” 

“Seriously.”

“Bold thing to assume.” 

You frown back. 

“Well, I was gonna invite Isagi-kun—“

“Isagi? How do you know Isagi?”

“He saw me leaving your house ‘cause he was gonna visit.  After we talked he followed me on Instagram. Anyway, I was gonna invite him and Bachira and all four of us could go to a movie,” You explain as you sigh and go back to the stove “But he said you’d probably just want to hang out with me.” 

“…And he didn’t say anything else?”

“Well he asked if we were dating so I just told him the truth. Really nice guy, by the way.” 

Rin’s going to hound Isagi next time they practice together. 

“So. Now you’re here… doing what exactly?”

“Making you breakfast. I’ll make you ochazuke for lunch later. Haven’t decided on dinner, I thought I’d ask when you woke up. Your mom said you liked traditional breakfast but I didn’t think I’d be done by the time you woke up so there’s fruit.” 

Sure enough, when Rin walks over to the other side of the table - there’s a half done spread of breakfast on the table. All the dining ware is set up neatly, the table arranged so well he feels guilty for not helping. 

“You didn’t have to do all this for me.” Rin tsks, a frown on his expression as he stands next to you. He watches you pour egg into a square pan, slowly evening out the layers. 

“I wanted to,” You reply, not thinking twice about it. “I enjoy cooking for people. It’s fun. I normally just do it to feed myself, so it’s nice to share.” 

He closes his eyes. 

“Thanks.” 

He’s afraid to look over at you, the excitement radiating off of you. It makes him uncomfortable that something so simple could make you so happy. 

“Can you repeat that?” 

“Don’t start.” 

“Rin-chan,” You coo, immediately making him so embarrassed he wants to hit you “You’re so docile today.” 

“I’m gonna kill you.” He says, hitting your shoulder as light as he can. 

“Woah…how romantic. Dying on the day you were born? Jeez. I’m swooning.” 

He looks at you blankly. 

“Stop being gross. Where did you even get that from?” 

“Too many things to count,” You say with a snap. He shakes his head. 

“Is there anything I can help with?” 

“How diligent. It’s fine! It’s your birthday, right? Sit. Eat some fruit. Pick out what you wanna do. I rented some games and there’s some movies I had in mind too. Make your agenda. “

Rin laughs to himself, lightly. 

“Isn’t that supposed to be your job?” 

“Don’t be stingy! I’m already making breakfast.”

Rin rolls his eyes.

“Yeah. Whatever.” 

__

You end up back in Rin’s room. 

After a healthy discussion about what he would like to do - Rin landed on wanting to do both. He picked out a copy of Resident Evil  to play until after lunch and then decided to binge a bunch of movies after. 

You even agree to accompany him while he practices. There’s 24 hours in a day and the plans are nothing more than vague suggestions - but deep down, it makes Rin kind of…well whatever. It’s not a bad plan. 

Currently, you’re sitting at the foot of Rin’s bed with your hands tight around the controller of his PS4. Rin feels a little bad for you. While you do okay with horror movies, the immersion of horror games seems to frighten you enough that your eyes are glued onto the screen. As such, Rin is trying his best not to startle you as you lean forward every so slightly. The leg of your pants is pushed up just barely. You’re dressed cozy, so it’s funny seeing your head shrink into your hoodie. 

“Why the fuck would you set it hardcore if this BOTH of our first times playing,” You whine, turning yourself into the next room carefully on screen “I’m scared.” 

“You’re such a wuss,” He scoffs, leaning back from where he’s sitting next to you on his bed. “We’re never gonna make any progress like this.” 

You stomp your feet and Rin resists the urge to laugh. 

“Shut up, it’s scary.” 

He nudges your shoulder with his knee. 

“Stop complaining. You got to pick the character and I got to pick the difficulty.” 

“I deserve to lust after Leon after the shit I’m getting put through,”

Rin scoffs at your declaration. The irritation is softened when you walk into the backroom faced with a zombie - a short scream leaving your lips as you mash buttons and use your gun to kill it quickly. You manage to dodge as much damage as you can, obviously trying not to waste limited resources. Even so it takes damn near 7 bullets. Despite your cowardice, you’re pretty good at the game. 

You loot the room for any possible supplies then leave. You turn the corner of the isle, a zombie filled gas station awaiting you. You manage to save bullets and stun the one closest to you before getting your shit completely rocked - quick to duck out. The first cut scene of the game comes next where you meet the other main character Claire. You gasp like you’ve been running, shoving the controller towards Rin. 

“Your turn. Move, I wanna sit on your bed.” 

“Why?” 

“Cause it’s a weekend and I have a right to be lazy. Shoo. On the floor.” 

“You’re getting way too comfortable in my house on my birthday.” 

Rin, does, go sit on the floor where you were. Mostly because it’s a better position to play the game in. At least it has minimal back support. The cut scene plays in the background, nothing difficult as the main characters go to the next area - the police station and the technical start of the game. Rin hasn’t played the remake, but he did longingly watch some playthroughs while he was in Bluelock during its release. 

He had never mentioned it to you, so he was shocked you knew enough about it to bring it over. He likes survival horror and he was always wanting to play it. 

“Me and your mom are best friends so I practically live here anyways. Also shut-up and look.” 

He does shut up, too invested in the story to be annoyed.  The main characters get separated and Leon ends up in the streets. 

For whatever reason, he’s conscious about proximity. Your knee next to his shoulder. You’re close enough to touch him casually and he’s wondering…hoping to know if you’re naive enough to do it without thinking. It feels like a stroke of luck, or maybe a form of mind-reading when you reach for his hair with your fingers. He wonders if you’re doing it on purpose. He thinks he should tell you to stop. 

But when you ask “Is this okay?” 

He can’t find the strength in himself to do it. He focuses on the scene in front of him, weaving through the cars to shake off a horde of zombies. Rin grabs the controls, immediately turning around to try and stun a group of zombies before turning into the gate so he can head to the station.

His heart is racing and his eyes almost feel cross from how much he’s focusing but it’s not exactly the game. The game isn’t even that scary, as much as it’s gory he thinks. 

“I don’t care but,” He says through a breath, trying to sound like he means it and that he’s not so conscious of the way your pinky lingers on his nape “when’d you get so touchy?” 

“I like touching you.” You reply, twirling a strand of hair around your fingers “Your hair is so silky and nice. I felt when I gave you a hug that one time and I kept thinking about it.” 

Rin wants to say “Do you think about me that much?” but the words don’t come out how he wants. 

“Do you touch everyone like this?” 

You’re silent for a minute. It takes patience, effort - not to turn his head to see the look on your face. Though he probably knows it. He thinks he just wants affirmation from you. 

“...No. Not really. I just like you.” 

There’s a beat of silence - a pause designated for his rejection, the promise he made to you so many months ago. He knows what the script is. And he’s said it many times before. Not in a million years, right? 

But he can’t bring himself to say it this time, so he doesn’t.

“Yeah. I know.” 

___

Before Rin knows it, the day is coming to a close. 

The entirety of it you spend together, with you faithfully stuck to him and without Rin feeling entirely suffocated. He isn’t sure why it’s so easy with you. Normally this much socialization would render him exhausted. Irritable at best and angry at worst. But he’s not. In fact even after his entire workout routine, he felt fine listening to you ramble. He didn’t need complete silence, but even when there were lulls and dips - it didn’t feel uncomfortable. 

You didn’t get far in Resident Evil 2. Rin decides to cut it short since it’d definitely take a lot longer than all the time you had and there were movies he wanted to watch. When you whine about not being able to finish - he quietly told  you to just come over next time and play it with him then. 

He waited a year, so he can wait a little longer. Your face lit up idiotically, giddy with delight at the promise of next time. As promised, ochazuke was for lunch and after 30 minutes of digestion - he put it out of his mind as he did his daily drills. You joined him, insisting that you’d be fine doing nothing. Sat on the field with a book the entire time even though it was cold, tossing him his things whenever he took a break - smiling each time he talked to you. 

(“You know you don’t actually need to stay with me the entire day.” He reminds you of this as he brings a bottle of water to lips, sweat dripping down the side of his head even in the cool weather. You turn your head up at him. 

“When else am I gonna get to stick by your side all day? This is a once in a lifetime opportunity.” 

“You’re so good at being annoying it’s impressive,” He says, dropping his water bottle back down “Aren’t you bored?” 

“Huh? No way. I have my fun book to keep me company and on top of that I get to see you play in the flesh.” 

Oh, yeah. You mentioned watching him when he was in Bluelock. “Well, it’s not like a match. But I’m not gonna keep asking, so whatever.” 

“Yes, yes - I understand. Now go, shoo.”)

Even though Rin practiced for his usually long amount of hours, you sat with him diligently - even stopping to cheer him on when you needed a break from reading or studying or whatever else you were doing. 

Upon returning, he went to shower and you went to warm up in  the kitchen. After he was redressed and clean, he joined you downstairs to order take-out and have dinner. 

Finally, it’s after dinner and you’ve banished Rin to his room while you set something up downstairs. He’s mostly scrolling twitter, watching soccer highlights from the accounts he follows. He’s just about comfortable when you finally call him back down, which irritates him enough to click his teeth but not enough to bring it up to you. 

After a long day, when Rin finally comes back down stairs, walking down into the hall and back into the living room - he can’t help but be surprised at the change in scenery. All the lights have been turned low, and everything looks different. You’ve taken to decorating a wall of his living room after some rearranging. A white sheet hanging up with something, and a plethora of fairy lights in stripes going down it in a nice pattern. 

There’s a banner and it looks hand-made. It spells out happy birthday, rin in neat, thick blue letters on cut-out white shapes, attached along the back wall. On the table in front, there’s some decoration along with nice paper plates and plastic cutlery and a cake in the middle that’s nicer than he’s expecting. 

You beam at him as he walks in. And you’re stupid enough to be wearing a birthday hat, giving him jazz hands as he enters. 

“Happy birthday!” 

On paper, Rin thinks it’s been something of a boring birthday. He did what he normally would do on a day off but you cooked for him twice. He spent most of it with you, even though it was a lot of nothing. A lot of being together like you were roommates or something. Maybe that's why he’s so reluctant to admit that this is making him feel something. 

That the silly theatrics feel meaningful. It is thoughtful, isn’t it? Rin doesn’t think anyone in his entire life has done anything this thoughtful for him. Birthdays are birthdays, and they’ve never really been especially meaningful. He didn’t see the point in just celebrating the day of someone's birth. Certainly, he doesn’t think he’d have it in himself to do something like this for another person. 

Rin stares at you. Wearing a stupid birthday hat and the most gleeful, idiotic smile he’s ever seen. All of this for a guy who’s rejected you, but you seem to cherish so much anyways. Apathetic and ungraceful as he is and always will be - he’s so overwhelmed he doesn’t know what to do. What a strange, unrecognizable feeling welling up inside of him. And not even one feeling, but so many so tangled with each other - he can’t see anything straight. His eyes aren’t drawn to the candlelight, or the moon, or the cake. 

It’s like a sense of tunnel vision. Where all Rin can really look at is you. It’s happened before. How can anyone be like this, he wonders. Are there people born into the world so unselfishly? And if they are, why would he ever cross paths with them? How could someone so easy to love have any business loving him, in the first place? 

Rin won’t ever understand you. He accepts that. He’ll never be able to understand this kind of person. Someone who shines even brighter than the sun. 

But he’s not so stupid to not understand himself. He’s unable to say the words he’d promised to you all the way in April. Rin doesn’t like to lie. 

He would be lying, that is, if you told him just one more time that you liked him.  He’d be lying if it told you it’ll never happen. He’d be lying if he said he doesn’t like you. And it’s not just because you like him, because that never mattered to him in the first place. 

Some people are made to be adored. Born special and bright like everything should revolve around them. Perhaps that kind of thing is only afforded to people without ego. With heart and character and charisma. 

It doesn’t matter. What a stupid thing to realize on his birthday of all days.

“Rin-kun?” 

He blinks. 

“Where’d you hide all of this?” 

You laugh at him, bubbly and delighted.

“I brought it in a tote and kept it in the kitchen. Mostly stuff from my house, and your mom helped with the cake and stuff. It’s nice right? I did a good job, no?” 

Ah. He’s fucked. 

“It looks okay.” 

You frown, huffing and puffing “Just okay? C’mon, don’t be stingy.” 

“Doesn’t begging for compliments defeat the purpose of them.” 

“Not to me,” 

Your frown deepens and Rin is starting to feel the rose colored glasses set in. 

“It’s nice. It’s good.” 

“So you like it? You’re happy? Delighted, even? Absolutely overjoyed by-” 

“Cut it out or I’m going to send you home.” 

“No,” You whine, tugging on his sleeves like you’re worried he really will “I want cake.” 

“Then let’s cut the cake?”

“We can’t,” You put your arms up in a cross and Rin gives you a look of confusion. “I promised I’d get a good picture of you.” 

“What? Promised who?” 

“Your parents, mostly. But also, you should post on your Instagram a little more, no? You’re basically a famous player already, you should have the courtesy to feed your fans.” 

Before he can do anything to protest, you usher Rin to sit on the other side of the table before you back with his phone. He stares at you but you only look at him expectantly. Still, he unlocks it and hands it to you. He gives you an irritated sigh (though he isn’t really irritated). 

“This is stupid.” 

“It’s a good thing to capture memories, you dummy. Now smile,” You say, holding up the camera after some angling “Or don’t. The people do love a good scowl.” 

That makes him want to smile. He’s awkward in the photos but he does stay still for them, trying his best not to look ridiculous. You take a few, then pause to come up to the table and light the candles in front of him. He hears the camera shutter one more time before you look up at him over the edge. 

“Ready to blow out your candles?” 

“I guess.” 

Before Rin can do anything about it, he listens to you sing happy birthday - poorly with too much enthusiasm. You’re tone deaf and passionate all at the same time - singing each word with a dramatic flair until you’re on the final word. You can’t clap because you’re recording but you do cheer as he burns the candles out. Once it’s over you stop recording, looking down and swiping through the pictures. 

“They turned out good. You should post them.” 

“...You’re done taking them?” 

You tilt your head to one side. 

“Yeah?” 

“We didn’t get any together.” 

Your eyes widen like he said something shocking. 

“...You wanna take them together?” 

He scoffs. 

“We spent the whole day together.” 

You flush, suddenly embarrassed and god. 

“I just wasn’t expecting you to want that. I mean we’re friends but-” 

“Shut up. And come here.” 

So you do, phone still in hand as you mess with your appearance.

“Do you want to take it or do you want me to?” 

“Oh, uh lemme just-” You go through a bunch of filters and find one before handing it to him, a nervous expression “You take it cause your arm is longer and you’re taller.” 

Rin just nods. Takes the phone from you,  and lets you pose a little before he takes the photo. He hands it back to you so you can see, and watches your eyes light up as you stare at it. Stupid. 

“It came out nice.” You say. You save it onto his phone before handing it back to him. “Send it to me later?” 

“Yeah.” 

You give him another grin and Rin takes his phone from you, going through the pictures as he opens up Instagram. He guess it wouldn’t hurt to post. You leave his side, saying something about cutting the cake. But he isn’t looking, really. 

He drafts a post as he waits for you. He likes the picture you took together best and decides to put it second. He never has any idea on how to caption these which is why he doesn’t want to post it in the first place. He glances at you, then sighs internally. 

itoshirin._ posted for the first time in a while.  posted 7 mins ago. liked by isagi_yoichi, bachiraaaaa, and others.  itoshirin._ ; 09.09.2002. thanks for everything, stupid.  isagi_yoichi commented: no way you’re getting a girlfriend before me. life is so unfair and cruel.  isagi_yoichi commented: oh happy birthday btw bachiraaaaa commented: RIN-CHAN !!!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY ٩(◕‿◕｡)۶ official_itoshisae: happy birthday.  itoshirinsnumberonefan: WHO IS THAT??  yo_hiori: happy birthday! 

“Rin, I cut the cake!” 

He puts his phone on DND before taking a plate of cake from your hand. 

__

The clock strikes two, and you’re still at Rin’s place. 

After a long binge of horror movies, you’re both comfortably in each other's space - only inches away, talking about nothing. The movie ended a little over half an hour ago.

He’s still doing just that, listening to you chatter away next to his ear. The room is completely dark minus the soft glow of the T.V. which gives just enough light for Rin to gaze at your face. Your eyes are wide and sparkly, still, even though it seems like the tiredness is getting to you too. 

Neither of you wants to stop talking. You’ve started discussing manga - particularly Rin's favorite manga. 

“Ciguatera was interesting,” You say, hugging one of his pillows close to your chest.  “I wasn’t sure what to expect.” 

“I’m shocked you read it. Seriously. I thought you would’ve  forgotten the minute after I told you.” 

“Well, yeah. You recommended it, so obviously I wanted to at least try,” You say with a breathless laugh, turning over to face him. You’re facing each other, he realizes a second too late “You’re such a boy, by the way. Weekly young magazine? Really.” 

“Shut up.” He says, with no real bite to his words “What were you expecting?” 

“Dunno. Didn’t think you were interested in romance of all things. Especially cause Ogino’s kind of a loser.” 

“There was other stuff in it.” He points out. You chuckle. 

“Yeah. Way raunchier and darker than I thought. But it was mostly about romance. So, I was surprised to say the last.” 

“What,” Rin starts, partially offended by the implication “Do you think I'm a soulless machine or something?” 

“Well no,” You frown, shaking your head as you stare at him “But you’ve rejected every confession you’ve ever gotten, even from some of the prettiest girls in our entire grade. So I didn’t think you had any interest in that kinda thing.”

He scoffs.”You’re stupid.” 

“You tell me all the time,” You point your fingers and place them under your chin. “Why did you reject them, by the way? Just trying to focus on soccer?” 

He feels flush, explaining. Turning his gaze to the ceiling, he sighs. 

“None of those people actually had feelings for me. It wasn’t meaningful in any way.” 

“And you want it to be meaningful?” 

“There’s no point being in a relationship with someone I don’t like and barely know. And who doesn’t really care to get to know me. I’m busy enough with soccer, and I don’t have time to entertain lukewarm relationships like that.” 

“What an unexpectedly sentimental reason. How soft of you Rin-kun.” 

“Shut up.” 

There’s a pause of thoughtful silence where you hum and lay flat on your back, reaching your hand up towards the ceilings. Rin can’t do much more than look. 

“You know. How I said I’ve been watching you since you were in Bluelock?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Y’know. I always thought you looked really sad back then. I might’ve been reading too much into it but,” You smile, corners of your lips upturned while you giggle “It’s like…weirdly relieving to see you like this.” 

“Like what?” 

“You’re like…just a boy,” You say wispy and delighted “A normal boy who reads shitty raunchy magazines and thinks about love. It’s comforting somehow. Makes me feel special. I really like you. A little more every day, it feels like.” 

Another beat of silence. He thinks you can sense the hesitance of his rejection. There’s such a tangible shift in the atmosphere. If Rin stretches his hand out to touch it, he thinks he’d push through an impossible barrier and keep falling in it forever. He thinks it would swallow him. 

He isn’t sure what it is. If it’s an act of bravery, or a sudden uptick in adrenaline, or if the exhaustion of a long day is finally starting to hit. Maybe it’s just these feelings that keep overwhelming him that make his body move. Something outside of his mind, nestled in his ribs, that has him inching closer to you. 

He flips until he’s hovering over you. Your eyes widen and you stare at him. He stares back, like he almost can’t believe himself. 

“Rin-kun?” 

And he freezes. The confidence dissipates as soon as he finds it but now he’s above you, on top of you. You’re messy and flush from the day. Your mascara is smudged and your lipgloss is gone - leaving a faint sheen on your mouth that matches your skin. Your hoodie is rumpled around the shoulders - one of the sleeves pulled to your elbows. Rin really gets a look at you. Cognizant of the fact he spent all day with you. That’s why you look worn and sleepy and so unbelievably cute. So cute it annoys him. Irritates him half to death. 

You open your mouth again, only to close it. It almost feels like he can hear your heart. Or maybe it’s his. It’s hard to know the difference. 

“Is this a n-new kind of bullying?” You joke, trying to ease the tension. He frowns at you. 

“Does it seem like I’m joking?” 

Your eyes widen and you turn away. Rin wants to make you look. 

“Well no but…” And you squirm a little “what are you doing?”

He doesn’t know, either. 

“I don’t know.” He admits, and you laugh a little breathless and the tension is so thick Rin can’t swallow around it “I want to kiss you.” He blurts out. Awkward and uncharismatic and clumsy. 

A bout of silence.

“...Am I going insane? Did you just say you want to kiss me?”

“I did.” 

More silence. 

“Why? Wouldn’t that make me your first kiss?” 

“It would.” 

“And isn’t that like… reserved for your special someone?” 

“It is.” 

“Rin-kun,” You breathe out, blinking in disbelief  “Do you even know what you’re saying?” 

“I do.”

You’re a little more serious this time. You put your hand on his shoulder. He feels like the Earth is gonna fall from under his feet. 

“Stop messing with me.” 

“I’m not.” 

You frown. 

“Do you really want to kiss me?” 

“Yeah,” He can’t think “I do.” 

You reach up for him. You’re more experienced with this kind of thing and it shows as you cup the nape of his neck. He doesn’t finch. He doesn’t look away from you either, as your thumb brushes under his eyes - the both of you so wrapped up in each other nothing matters. Rin would stay in this forever, if someone gave him the option.

“W-we have to talk about this afterwards, okay?”

“Okay.” 

“I’m serious, Itoshi Rin. Because you can’t just—” 

Your palm cups his cheek and he rubs against it instinctively. He sees your eyes widen and you swallow - a frown still etched into your features. 

“I know. I’m sorry.” 

Your voice goes as soft as a whisper. 

“You’re so unfair.” 

He almost laughs. 

“Please kiss me.” He asks, so silently it almost goes unheard but he knows you hear it because your lips press into a thin line before you’re pulling Rin down towards you. Your lips are soft. And warm. And they taste faintly like whip-cream and the slight sour of strawberries and your hands are so gentle. Somehow he feels at ease even though he feels like he’s going to implode on himself from nerves. 

Just a little deeper before you pull away and stare at him. Rin looks back, eyes jumping from your lips up to your eyes and back down to your lips. You open your mouth to say something. Mumbling his given name only for him to cut you off with another kiss, a little deeper this time. The way it shuts you up is so cute it almost makes him angry. How it muffles your words, tapers off into a noise of surprise and ends up just back at a kiss. 

He’s never felt like this kind of thing was a viable option. Itoshi Rin is an antisocial, angry, and apathetic soccer protege and he has no time in the world for anything lukewarm. He’s rejected every confession he’s ever received in his life and always thought of relationships as something far off and disconnected to him in his entirety.

Perpetually unloveable but maybe not in such an angsty, vulnerable way. Like a law of the universe. A truth, like thinking of him, means to postulate that he is that way. A prerequisite to understanding him. 

Rin doesn’t like things that are half-ass. Perhaps, part of the reason he likes you so much is because you’ve proved him wrong in such an utterly defeating way. The fact your very existence is by and large, the antithesis of this truth. 

Itoshi Rin is not only loveable, but he is capable of loving. There is evidence of it, right underneath him now - with soft lashes and wet eyes and the brightest smile that could ever exist. 

And it’s haunting for more reasons than one. But he likes how unyielding the revelation is. You’re worried he’ll want to avoid it, and he does. But he doesn’t think he could forever, even if he tried. 

He’s confident if he made the attempt, you’d come barreling towards him once more. With all the confidence in the world. It makes him want to at least try to face it.

Which is why he’s kissing you a second, third, and fourth time. Which is why he’s looking at you in between, wide blue eyes transfixed on every part of your face. He’s trying to face what daunts him most, not like but love and the difference is more important as the days pass. 

You pull away, finally - put a hand on his chest and stare. 

“Rin-kun,” You whisper, uncertain of yourself which he hates. “I like you. I really like you.” And again, a little softer “And I want you to like me too,” Like that had been the biggest secret of all. Something you’d never told anyone, even once. 

Rin can’t imagine it. Have you been holding in something like this all this time? He only realized a couple hours ago and it already feels like he’s going to rip apart at the seams. 

“I do. I do like you.”

“Really? Forreal? Seriously? You’re not pulling my leg? Yanking my chain?” 

He knocks his forehead against yours. 

“Be quiet. How can you be this stupid in the middle of getting confessed to?” 

You pout. Pout at him, all whiny. God. 

“It doesn’t feel real to me.” 

He laughs humorlessly. “It’s all a dream. You’ll forget it all in the morning.” 

“Stop being mean to me.” 

He has to be. If he’s not you’re going to see right through him. 

“No,” He says instead “Stop being so ridiculous first.” 

“An impossible ask to the world's most ridiculous girl.” 

He smiles a little. 

“That’s a good name for you. I’ll change your contact.” 

“Nooo,” You say again, this time pulling him down for a hug. His eyes widened. And he’s unfair? “Be nice to your girlfriend.” 

He doesn’t have anything to say to that. It flusters him too, admittedly. Before he can think of a counter, you yawn big and wide. Rin is still on top of you and neither of you have brushed your teeth. He was planning on putting you up in the guest room, but currently you’re clinging to him half-away. And he has no such plans of telling you to move. 

“I’m so tired.” 

Rin feels like he’s going to pass out, He mumbles. 

“You can sleep.” 

“Want you to sleep too.” 

Rin closes his eyes. He couldn’t refuse even if he wanted to. You’ll have to talk about it in the morning. 

“Okay.” 

__ 

“Rin? Where’s your frie—oh!” 

Rin stirs the minute his mom enters the room. It only takes him a minute to regain consciousness and by the time he’s awake - he’s already regretting not locking his door. 

He continues to pretend to be asleep. He thinks you still are because you’re comfortably slotted in his arms. Rin is so embarrassed he wants to die. He hears his mom gasp, and then quietly shouts for his father to come to his room. 

“What are you—oh.” 

Rin is going to have the worst morning of his life whenever they leave. He remains still. He hears the shutter of a camera and grits his teeth all the way in the back of his jaw. 

“Oh this will make a great wedding photo.” 

His dad laughs a little to himself, ushering his mother out of the room “Don’t get carried away,” 

When the door finally clicks, Rin opens his eyes and lets out a breath of relief. Much to his shock, he also feels you stir. His eyes widen when you turn to him, your face painted in utter mortification before you bury it in your hands. He stares at you as you groan, kicking your feet. 

“Oh god I’m going to cry. How am I going to face her? Oh my god” 

Rin scoffs a little at your dramatics. It calms him down in a strange way “She’s not gonna say anything to you. She’s probably only going to bully me about it.” 

“I’ve forsaken you, mother-in-law” 

Rin nudges your ribs, blush crawling up his face. 

“Shut up.” 

__ 

Up until three weeks ago, Rin didn’t take issue with the way you interacted at school. 

You two have a pretty strict policy about it. Though you’re in the same class and you chat occasionally in the halls - you tend to avoid Rin where you can. Originally, this made sense. For the sake of his comfort and yours, the best choice was sneaking to the roof together to eat where you could remain mostly undisturbed. 

As such, Rin has never been particularly consciousness of your presence in the classroom. For starters, you’re always somewhere. A busybody of the highest pedigree and always running errands - even if Rin were to try to talk to you he can only really find you 20 percent of the time. Secondly, unlike Rin, you have a handful of friends surrounding you. Rin has interacted with them very briefly but you (seemingly for his sake) try not to force him out of his comfort zone too much by making you all sit together. The most Rin has gotten from them is a single knowing smirk or glance. 

And lastly, before three weeks ago, it would’ve been a big problem if people started getting onto either of you about a relationship that didn’t exist. That would've been all around awkward and uncomfortable and maybe would’ve deterred your future endeavors with other guys. 

That was when you and Itoshi Rin were in fact not dating. 

Three weeks into your relationship and nothing much has changed, though nowadays you come over to his house on weekends where you can. You’ve even been on one date after his dad (of all people) hounded him about never taking you on a proper one. 

You text the same as you did before, and you call Rin a little more often. Usually for the purposes of rambling so much you tucker yourself out and fall asleep. 

But at school, Rin only really sees you for the spare minutes of lunch and not much more than that. He’s never really thought about it before. It was never enough of an issue to warrant his intervention. 

It’s not like he cares, okay? 

But he’s more aware of it, now - frustratingly enough. You really don’t see each other often enough in school and you have many more guy friends than he had ever considered before. Every time he catches you and Murata-senpai trekking down the hall he feels his blood pressure rise. 

You and Rin have both decided, though. Despite his posting of you, neither of you have confirmed the relationship. Rin is immune to the prying and you’re good at dodging it altogether. This is the agreement. 

It is therefore very irrational of him to be thinking of speaking up at this current moment in time. 

Despite your mutual decision to keep things as private as possible, Rin has heard nothing but gossip about the situation for weeks. Outside of the usual, direct kind of prying - there’s whispers and stares and all sorts of other things. Rin doesn’t care about it. He’s used to it, it’s part of the gig and the neo-egoist league made him near immune. 

It’s all the things directed at you that make him seethe. Misplaced jealousy and the disappointed remarks of guys in class that make him feel like his blood pressure is rising. The latter is what’s making him most irritated now. How fucking long are these idiots going to talk about this? 

“Dude, you had like three years to confess,” Some idiot, who’s name Rin doesn’t know is still yapping “If she’s actually dating Mr.Popular then it’s on you for fucking yourself over.” 

The other idiot in question groans, and Rin forces his face to remain impassive as he listens. He tries to stop listening. More than once, actually. But they just keep going. 

“I didn’t think he’d actually do it dude. Like there’s no way, right? He rejected every single girl who ever confessed to him. I thought she was safe. And now my highschool love is forever ruined.” 

Like he ever stood a chance. How ridiculous. 

Another one of the goons speaks up “Dunno. Neither of them have said anything right? You miss all of the shots you don’t take.” 

“Are you saying I should just confess to her anyway? She got posted on his Instagram dude.” 

A smirk appears on Extra Three’s face “No confirmation means fair game. Stop being pussy and do it.” 

“You think I stand a chance against that dude?” 

Rin can feel all three pairs' eyes hit him at once. 

“Nah. Not a chance. But you could always wait till she’s all heartbroken and comfort her, right? Hook, line, and sinker.” 

“I hear when girls are heartbroken they’re like way more likely to let you—” 

With that, Rin stands to his feet. He’s seething. It’s ridiculous. It’s stupid. He should definitely just leave to go cool his head but he’s so fucking angry it’s hard to sit still and he has no other way of dealing with his feelings. So he walks towards the table slowly, eyes darkened and just barely holding it in

He knows this is a bad idea. He can feel the whole classroom look at him as he slams his hand down on the desk. But he doesn’t care. He’ll deal with it later. 

“You’d be fucking lucky if my girlfriend ever looked your way.” 

As soon as Rin says it, there's a thud at the door-way of the classroom. When he looks up you’re there with your eyes widened. Rin just looks back, impassive and immune to the sudden uproar of whispers. 

He only clicks his teeth when you grab him by the sleeve of his uniform - cracking a small smile as he hears the faint words “Just give up dude.” as he leaves. 

__ 

Up on the roof top, you’re shaking Rin by the shoulders - visibly distressed. 

“Hey! What the hell was that?” 

“What.” He offers, not willing to budge on the situation. In the first place he’s a little irritated by all of it. And he’s a little irritated by how much you’ve been enforcing the no-talking rule. Right now, it really feels like he can’t take it anymore. 

You frown deeply, distress only growing as the time passes in uncomfortable silence. Rin doesn’t want to be civil about it. About it and about you and about those idiots. 

“We had an agreement!” You say, grabbing him by the front of his shirt, though it’s weak. He stares down at you. 

“So what?” 

“Rin, we talked about this. Don’t be like this.” 

“Like what.” 

“Pissy and weird. You’re being weird and I don’t like it. It’s making me sad.” 

“How am I being—” 

Before Rin can proceed with his sentence, he catches a glimpse of your face in the midst of his tantrum. Sad like a puppy who got its tail stepped on and about ready to cry, he immediately seals his mouth in fear of making it worse. 

“Why are you doing that?” He spits. 

“Doing what?”

“Being all sad and pathetic. Does it really bother you that much if people know we’re dating?” 

“It’s not like that.” You assure. 

“Then what is it?” Rin prods, frustrated but not wanting to make things worse “Why is it such a big deal?” 

There’s a bout of silence before you sigh. 

“Rin, you’re a huge soccer player. The people you’re dating and stuff - it’s a big deal,” 

Rin cuts you off. 

“That’s what you were worried about? My career?” 

“Well, yeah.” 

“You’re stupid.” 

“Hey! I’m seriously worried about it and then you go and—” 

He gives you a frown. He forgets all too often you’re like this. He’s used to your silly and unserious way of talking, so it slips his mind that you’re actually a massively responsible person. You probably have a point about it, thinking of the consequences of your relationship through hell and back. With a detached sense of rationality - Rin can recognize that you’re probably thinking about more things than this. Otherwise it wouldn’t be so touchy of a subject. 

Nothing’s changed on paper, but everything will eventually. It’s something to think about, admittedly. 

Honestly Rin doesn’t care what strangers think. He’s blunt and unfriendly. Always has been, and will continue to be through the majority of his career he’s absolutely sure. Even outside of Bluelock, he has almost no regard for the opinions of other people and what concerns them. Maybe it’s irresponsible, but Rin isn’t playing soccer for the approval of the populace and nothing will ever change that. 

“If I thought that was something I should worry about, we wouldn’t be dating.” 

You look up at him. 

“You should be worried about it.” You emphasize. 

“I’m not. I don’t care what any of those people think.” 

“Then why’d you go and say something?” 

Rin seethes.

“They deserved it.” 

Your hand reaches for his cheek. He pauses and takes a deep breath, staring at you. He leans into your touch instinctively, frustration eased by the sensation. You stare back. 

“Okay. We’ll announce it officially later, then.” 

“Do we even need to do that? If you tell three people, half of our grade’ll find out anyway.” 

“Are you saying my friends  gossip?” 

He doesn’t reply to that. You pout at him and Rin fights the urge to kiss you. There’s a beat of silence as you give him a hug - the two of you on the same roof you always are. Rin doesn’t mind it, wrapping his arms loosely around your waist. 

“You know, it’s gonna get busy for me soon.” You mumble. So this is what else you were worrying about. “And for you. I have my entrance exam and the school is in Tokyo. And you’re gonna go back to Bluelock and—” 

“It’ll be fine.”

“I’m worried about it anyways.” 

“About what?” 

“I’ll see you less. What if you stop liking me randomly and I can’t even hunt you down about it?” 

Rin huffs “You’re insane enough to find me,” He drops his chin on your shoulder “Plus you talk to my mom.” 

“You’re gonna be so busy.” 

“I’ll come see you when I’m not.” 

“And you’re going to be surrounded by the human equivalent of siren women someday soon.” 

“I don’t care about that.” 

“But you might.” 

“I haven’t in eighteen years, you moron.” 

“I’m gonna miss you all the time.” You say, sniffly and Rin is so struck with a feeling of affection he almost falls “I already miss you all the time.” 

He squeezes you a little tighter “It’ll be fine.”

“For you.” 

Rin furrows his brow, pulling back to stare at you. 

“Not for me,” Because Rin can begrudgingly admit he will miss you worse than this “Just in general. It’ll be fine. You almost made it a year without me.” 

“But now I’m with you,” You reply easily, and softly and oh-so in love Rin wants to turn away “And I’m so happy and I want it be like this for a long time,”

“Just a long time? Not something stupid like a blossoming eternity?” 

“I thought I’d scare you.” 

“You did that in April.” He points out flatly. You hit him lightly but smile anyway. 

“It’s a problem how much I like you.” 

Rin likes you just as much. You’re probably too much of an idiot to realize and won’t for a long while. He takes a little comfort in, strangely.

“It’ll be fine. I’ll come see you.” He says again, because it’s the only thing he can think to say. He believes in it thoroughly. If Rin were a better, more candidly vulnerable person he thinks now he’d give the loving boyfriend speech. He almost wants to half-assedly try but can’t bring himself to get past the awkwardness. He hugs you tighter because it’s all he’s capable of, and hopes he can will it into you. The sincerity of his words, he wants so badly for them to reach you “Stop worrying so much.” 

“Rin-kun,” You start, then pause to look up at him. His breath hitches “Rin. I love you. Really.” 

He feels like he’s gonna be sick as he stares at you, eyes widened. You look the same as you always do. Unexpectant, terribly sincere, with your heart on your sleeve. The more Rin knows you, the more he thinks it can’t be easy to be so vulnerable all the time. 

So you do it for him, and only him. And Rin is always going to be intolerable. Frustrating and impatient. But he wants to do it for you too, where he can. Rin wants you to know it’ll be fine because the fact that you’re standing here now is nothing short of a miracle. Nothing comes out right. 

“Yeah.” He says, but he can’t get the rest of words out. And you laugh, and peek up at him through your lashes. 

“And you love me too, don’t you?” 

Rin grits his teeth. He wants to say no. 

“I guess.” 

“And we’re going to be just fine.” You repeat, hugging him tight. Rin hugs you back. He wants to say thank you. He wants to kiss you stupid and make fun of you at the same time. He wants you so much and so often he’s sure he’s lost his fucking mind. 

But he agrees with you, at least. He nods. He holds you. He doesn’t like to lie, so he looks at you instead. 

“Yeah. It’s gonna be fine.” 

__

EPILOGUE ; 

In Rin’s defense, he’s not trying to listen in on the conversions of your underclassmen. 

For starters, the club door is cracked up and Rin only has one airpod fully charged. Secondly, it’s not like they’re being quiet. Rin’s pretty sure anyone with decent enough hearing could hear them from down the hall. Given that it’s the newspaper club, he’s sure that the conversation isn’t usually this interesting. 

It’s just when he catches wind of your name while you’re nowhere to be found, he finds himself eavesdropping just a little. He leans back into the chair he’s sitting in, face tucked into his black mask and hat pulled neatly over his head. 

“Guys, I’ve decided I’m going to confess to Boss  no matter what.” 

He must mean you. Rin often hears how some of the people in the club affectionately add danchou to the end of your name. Rin scoffs a little at the kids' confidence. It reminds him a little of highschool. Rin really think you’re at more of a risk than he is. Being a celebrity makes him naturally unattainable - more of a fixture than a person. 

Everytime someone confesses to you though it’s sincere. From knowing you. And he gets it but it doesn’t keep him from scoffing and turning his nose up. 

“It’d be a good idea to give up while you’re ahead.” Says another unnamed voice. 

“Yeah Nakao-san. Do you even know who Senpai's boyfriend is?” 

“N-no. But it doesn’t matter. Through the powerful of love I’ll—”

Before Rin gets a chance to listen anymore, he hears your voice call out for him. He snaps his head up to look at you. You’re dressed so professionally it’s hard to recognize you like that. Your hair is cut neat and styled professionally and you’re dressed in business casual. He’s relieved he brought shoes for you to change into. 

You run up to him anyway, and Rin stands up to make sure you don’t stumble as you throw your arms around his neck. You’re closer in height with your heels on so he doesn’t have to bend down much at all to kiss you. He pulls down his mask quickly.

“Rin-tan, you’re here.” You say with a soft, breathless giggle “I missed youuu.” 

“Missed you too,” He says, an arm squeezed around your waist “I have shoes for you in the car,”

You gasp, rubbing your cheek against his affectionately. 

“You’re the best in the world. My feet are so sore.” 

“Did the interview go well?” Rin asks. You pull away, moving your hair away from your eyes before nodding. 

“Uh-huh. The women's rugby team captain is super chill and she interviews great so it went smoothly. I just need to drop the transcript off and then we can leave,” You say holding his hand. He squeezes your palms “Do you want to meet them? You don’t have to but a lot of them ask about you.” 

Normally Rin would say no. But he’s feeling a little petty today, after all. 

“Sure.” 

You beam, your hand in his as you nudge the door open. The room goes silent, a bout of excited cheering following at your return. He’s relieved to see you’re still so well loved, a little reluctant to let go of your hand. 

“Senpai, you’re back.” 

“Yup, yup. I have the transcript and recording on this USB. Watch it and draft the article up tonight. When I come in tomorrow, we’ll go through editing and get it out by Monday.” You say, hand on hip before remembering his presence. You grab him and Rin follows “Oh, and guys - this is my boyfriend! Rin Itoshi.” 

Most of them seem to know. Rin can sense the admiration but it’s respectful. He can tell that everyone is professionals in the field. Rin likes that. He bows politely. 

“Nice to meet everyone,” 

“Nice to meet you too, Itoshi-san.” 

“Danchou…you’re dating Rin Itoshi…the famous soccer player Rin Itoshi?” 

You giggle, looping your arm in Rin’s. He laughs internally. It’s the same kid who wanted to confess to you. 

“Uh-huh. We’re highschool sweethearts! And today is our very special date night so don’t contact me for any reason until tomorrow morning at least. I’ll see you guys later.” 

“Bye, senpai.” 

“Have fun on your date.” 

With that, you turn the corner and leave the room - immediately beginning to ramble about your day. Rin half-listens. He only pays complete attention when he hears your kouhais talking from down the hall. 

“Told you to give up, dude.” 

“Rin. Are you paying attention?” 

He chuckles to himself. 

“Yeah. Sorry.” 

❁ a/n ; hello!! me again. first of alll, if you read through this whole fic, thank you so much. second of all i want to discuss a few things about this fic.

im usually pretty keen on localization for my fics where possible because i think it makes for a smoother reader experience - however the usage of honorifics was important to the atmosphere for this one so i'll hope it wasn't too awkward to read.

secondly, im nervous about rins characterization for this one so i hope it was alright. apologies for any errors its 5am and im soo tired.

this fic was mostly meant as an exploration of how i think rin would really benefit from being with someone eccentric and bubbly. the core of their relationship is that reader is an overall emotionally intelligent and honest person and how that has a huge influence on rin so i hope that growth came thru. once again thanks for reading and i hope u enjoyed. rbs and tags always appreciated!

[jessikahathaway]

Baby Talk - Part I

Hellooooo!

I've had this in my WIPs for a while and I wanted to get some of it out so that you all could enjoy it! Let me know what you think and if you want more??? Tag lists are open for all of my ongoing fics so if you want to be added just let me know!

Please enjoy!

Pairing: Jikook X Reader (Jimin X Reader X Jungkook)

Genre: Surrogacy!AU, Polyamorous!AU, Romance. (Future Smut)

Warnings: Medical Procedures, Assault (not descriptive), Profanity. If I forgot anything please let me know!

Words: 11.3k (Phew chill Jess~)

This wasn’t a big deal, you thought to yourself as you signed the paperwork in the clinic.

Just, you know, getting artificially inseminated for money. Nothing weird about that right?

Becoming a surrogate wasn’t something you’d planned on in your life, mainly sticking to your job and working towards a better tomorrow or whatever they say.

You were young, healthy and full of life.

The only thing you lacked, was a full bank account.

The realization hit a little harder than you thought it would. Being a receptionist wasn’t exactly what you’d had planned for your life but, it was simple work and it made you happy.

Going to college wasn’t really ever an option for you anyways. Your parents had died in an accident when you were little, forcing you to go live with your Great Aunt until you turned eighteen. She hadn’t forced you out, but you did leave. Wanting the adventures that life had to offer.

However, you quickly realized that it wasn’t easy pickings out in the world. That’s when the notice came to the door of your apartment that you either paid your late rent in full by the date or you could get your ass out.

Fear trickled down your spine at the thought of being homeless. You briefly thought of going back to your Aunts but, she lived out in the country and the city is where you’d made your home. As much as you cared about her, it just wasn’t going to happen.

That’s when your friend Namjoon and his husband Jim invited you over for dinner.

You were beyond excited, because these two had just had their baby girl Annie.

They had used the local fertility clinic to get a surrogate and had their baby just a month prior. You had been dying to meet the little bundle ever since you heard the news they were having a baby.

God, that kid was going to be spoiled rotten.

Quickly, you had gone over and enjoyed a nice meal with the three of them. Annie still partaking in formula.

You had tried to make conversation, but your eyes kept wandering to Annie and her little hands and feet. You felt a slight clench in your chest at the sight of her round face and sweet eyes.

“Earth to Y/N? You doing alright?” Namjoon’s voice echoed through their lovely, luxe apartment.

“Y-Yeah! Fine, I’m fine,” you smiled.

“You sure?” Jin asked, getting up to take his and Namjoon’s plates to the kitchen.

“Mhmm,” you said, eyes glancing back over at the baby.

“You’re so whipped, Annie has claimed yet another victim,” Namjoon snickered, looking at the blissful gaze your eyes had taken.

“You ever want kids, Y/N?” Jin asked, coming back in with dessert for each of you.

“I guess so, I mean. Just gotta find someone to make the baby with,” you joked half heartedly.

It was no secret among your friends that you were the black sheep. Not dating, not even entertaining the notion of having a significant other. The idea was, honestly, draining.

“Don’t feel like you have to be married to have a kid, Y/N. Single parenthood is just as valid as a couple,” Jin reminded.

“I’m nowhere near financially stable enough to pop out a kid right now,” you sighed.

“No? I thought the job at the hotel was treating you well,” Namjoon said.

“Yes and no, they treat me well. But pay me next to shit... I-I gotta make some quick cash, or I’m gonna be homeless,” you whispered.

“What?!?” The two men shouted, looking at you with heartbreak in their eyes.

“Y/N, why didn’t you tell us you were struggling! We could’ve done something!” Jin says, rubbing his face with frustration.

“No-No! It’s fine, I’ll figure it out! I always do,” you encouraged, trying to keep the fear out of your eyes.

“How far behind on rent are you?” Namjoon asked.

“A little under six grand,” you sighed.

“Y/N!” Your two friends looked distraught.

“I don’t understand how a society can function like this, I hate it,” Namjoon said, looking down at his dessert he no longer wanted.

Annie started fussing, kicking her feet and wanting attention.

Jin sighed and got up, taking his beautiful daughter with him. You and Namjoon sat in cold silence for a while. Neither of you willing to talk to the other.

You were too proud for your own good. Even if it meant crashing and burning, you’d do that before you took anyone’s pity.

“How can we help?” Namjoon asked, looking at you with so much worry.

“I really don’t know Joon, there’s no where that’ll give me that kinda money with my credit and... even if they did I couldn’t pay it back anyways,” you sighed.

“Have you thought about going to school for something? Maybe you can get a degree and, I don’t know I’m pulling at straws here,” he said.

“I can’t go to school Joon, with what money? And even worse, I wouldn’t know what to go into,” you said, swallowing down some more wine.

“I wish we could’ve had you surrogate for us. We paid that woman a small fortune. Had I known you were struggling I would, maybe you could’ve done it instead,” he said quietly.

“How much did you pay her?” You asked.

“Around $80,000,” he said, shrugging.

You choked.

“Damn you filthy rich kids,” you grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest.

“That’s it!” Namjoon said.

“Huh?” You asked, looking at him in confusion and despair.

“You can’t be our surrogate, but you could be someone else’s!”

Your body ran cold at the thought.

“I-I don’t know if I could do that Joon,” you said.

“Doesn’t your family have a high chance of twins?” He said, looking at you with a smile.

“I mean, yes but-”

“Say no more. I know a couple that’s been dreaming of a baby. They actually were supposed to meet the woman who wound up being our surrogate. But she decided to go with us. Jimin and Jungkook, they’re really good people Y/N,” Namjoon said, smiling.

“Namjoon, I don’t know if I can have a stranger’s baby!”

“I mean I won’t force you to sign up or anything. But Jungkook and Jimin are really good guys who have been waiting forever to have a baby. They said they wanted twins but, most importantly they wanted a healthy child. How sweet is that!”

You worried your lower lip with your teeth. This was just ridiculous. There’s no way you’d be able to do it. No way.

“Let me show you a picture of them!” Namjoon said, pulling out his phone.

“Joon really-”

Although, before you could argue anymore, you saw their faces.

A smaller, blond man. Whose smile was brighter than any star. And a taller, lean brunette who looked at the camera with a goofy grin.

“Jimin is the blond, Jungkook is the brunette,” Namjoon explained.

“Okay?” You said, trying to calm your racing heart.

They were both handsome. Deathly so, it made your stomach clench in a weird way to look at them. You wondered what kind of babies they would make. If they had that smile Jimin was packing, no one would be safe. That child would get whatever it wanted.

“I’m just saying, it doesn't have to be them but they’ve wanted a baby for so long and... you could help them with that and get a lump sum of cash on the side. Bad a bing bad a boom! No worries!”

It wasn’t such a hard decision in the end.

You needed the money.

So walking into the clinic had this weird sense of finality to it.

The receptionist looked at you with a smile.

“Hello dear, how can I help you?” She said.

“I-uh, wanted to sign up to be a potential surrogate?” You said, wringing your hands together.

“Of course! Did you bring your medical records and things of the like?”

You nodded quickly, handing over the required paperwork. She clicked away on her keyboard and got you all signed up and ready to go. Soon, you were getting your preliminary check up to see if you were able to have children.

Although your period had some irregularities in the past, the doctor’s said it was probably due to stress and the balancing out of hormones. But it would all work out, you were healthy and fertile!

You managed to tell Namjoon that you signed up without him having a full blown heart attack.

“How long until you need to be out of the apartment?” He asked, sipping his coffee.

“I need to be out in three weeks,” you said softly.

“Well shit you’re kinda on a time crunch there sweets, but don’t worry, you can do it! I’ll let Jimin and Jungkook know that you signed up, they’ll want to meet you. I know it,” he said.

“Namjoon, it’s okay. I don’t care who I surrogate for, as long as it’s soon,” you said, trying to keep your heart rate under control.

“Okay, but Y/N, I’m telling you. They’d be the perfect fit for you!” He said.

You said your goodbyes before hanging up the phone. The days to come would be challenging no doubt.

—

You were rather popular at the fertility clinic it seemed, because you’d had three meetings already.

One was a couple that had been trying for years and it just wasn’t happening so they were resorting to a different method. Although for this one they wanted to do an egg implantation. You weren’t sure you wanted to do that.

Another was an older couple who looked like they were just planning on having kids but their own clocks ran out.

But finally, you got one more call from the clinic.

“Miss Y/N, you’ve got another request for a meeting,” the receptionist on the other line said.

“Oh? With whom?” You asked.

“A Mr. Park Jimin and a Mr. Jeon Jungkook, they asked for you personally,” she said, tone light.

You almost spit out your drink.

Th-They had asked for you?

The fertility clinic was big, a huge database of surrogates and people willing to conceive for the right price.

But they had asked to meet you.

Personally.

“Miss Y/N? Still there?” The receptionist asked, sounding far away from you.

“Yes! Yes I’m here,” you said, coughing.

“Wonderful, they said if you were willing they’d like to treat you to a meal, of course I can’t give out your contact information without consent from you but if you’re willing to meet with them we can arrange this.”

You heard yourself agree before even thinking about it.

Soon, you were on your way to the higher end of town. Heading towards a good Korean Barbeque place that was notorious for having the best meat in town.

Walking in you looked around, noticing how luxurious the place was. It made you feel a little out of place to be honest. But, not letting that get to you the host came up and asked for your name.

“Miss Y/N, ah yes. You’re with the Jeon party, lovely. Come right this way,” he said, taking you back into the bowels of the beast it seemed.

Winding through tables and chairs you found yourself in front of a private room. You didn’t want to think about how much this cost, so you simply just let your mind wander to other fun topics.

Such as the fact that you were potentially meeting your surrogate partners.

“Mr. Jeon? Mr. Park? A Miss Y/N is here for you,” the host said, through the door.

“Let her in,” a higher pitched male voice said.

You bit your lip and waited as the door opened. You looked inside and saw a beautiful wooden table, laid out with the finest meats and other various types of noodles and food. Then, there was the other feast, one for your eyes.

Park Jimin was a smaller man, but so incredibly handsome it made your head swirl. His soft blond hair tucked under a beanie as he looked up at you with what could only be called wonder. He looked at you gently, a small smile making its way to his lips.

Jeon Jungkook was a different story. Lean but cut, tiny waist accentuated by his pants. His arms were strong looking and one was covered in tattoos. His hair was pulled away from his face in a precious man bun that made your heart stutter. His eyes were big and glassy, looking at you. As if breathing you in.

“Hi,” you said quietly. “I’m Y/N.”

“We know,” Jimin said with a gentle smile.

“Come, sit down,” Jungkook said, moving a chair out for you to sit.

“Okay,” you agreed, moving to sit down.

“Get whatever you want,” Jimin encouraged, handing you the menu politely.

“Thank you,” you blushed, trying to not faint with his eyes on you like that.

Ordering a few things for yourself the three of you sat there with awkward silence filling the space. Jungkook wouldn’t really look at you and Jimin seemed like he was too nervous to start.

“So,” you said, clearing your throat. “How long have you two been together?” You asked, trying to sound cheerful.

“Five years,” Jungkook said, placing his hand over his glass.

“Oh wow, congratulations,” you said, rubbing your hands on your thighs.

“Thank you,” Jimin breathed.

“Our friend Namjoon said you were kind of in a tight spot and needed some help financially, is this true?” Jungkook asked, finally glancing your way.

“Y-Yeah, I wish he wouldn’t just tell other people that but, no sense in denying the truth. I’m almost six grand behind on rent,” you sighed, rubbing your face.

Both of their faces fell, looking at each other in worry.

“It-It’s okay though! I’ll be okay, I always am,” you said, trying to keep your tone light.

“It’s okay to be scared, Y/N, I would be scared shitless if I were you,” Jungkook said, taking slow drinks from his glass.

“Yeah,” you sighed, trying to avoid the stinging in your eyes.

“What do you do for work?” Jimin asked, trying to keep the conversation from turning to dark.

“I’m a receptionist at the local hotel. It’s not much, but I really like it,” you said, a grin taking place on your face.

“Hey, if you like it then that means something,” Jimin encouraged.

“So, you two want to have a baby?” You said, trying to get down to the topic at hand.

“Yes, more than anything,” Jimin said, a wistful look crossing his face.

“That’s amazing, to love each other that much and want to build a family is... Super important,” you said, meaning every word.

“What does your family do, Y/N? Do they live here in the city?”

You awkwardly rubbed your hands together.

“Um, my Great Aunt lives out in the country. But, my parents and most of my other relatives have passed on,” you said, trying to hide the emotion that came up.

“Oh, so sorry for your loss,” Jungkook said, face pinching.

“It’s okay, it was a long time ago,” you whispered.

“That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt,” Jimin argued.

“You’re right, but, it’s okay,” you said.

“So, you have a high chance for twins,” Jungkook said, looking at some papers you didn’t notice were on the table.

“Yes, my mother was a twin. It runs way back in my family,” you said.

“Jimin has a good chance of having twins as well,” Jungkook said, gesturing to his loving partner.

“I do I do,” he said with a grin.

“Do you two want a set of twins?” You asked.

“It’s preferred but not necessary. As long as we get a baby, that’s all that matters,” Jungkook said.

Soon, the food was delivered and Jungkook and Jimin insisted on cooking the food for you. Something about not stressing you out too much.

After a full meal, you leaned back and let your head fall comfortably. Jimin and Jungkook exchanged a glance at each other.

‘She’s the one,’ Jimin mouthed.

Jungkook smiled and nodded back.

“Thank you for the meal, I really do appreciate it. I haven’t eaten like that in months,” you said.

“Well, if you want to have our baby, we would gladly provide you with all the food you could want,” Jimin said.

“T-That’s alright, it wouldn’t be necessary-”

“Yes it would, Y/N. If you carry our child that means we’re responsible for you, everything you need or want will be yours. We swear,” Jungkook said.

“Right,” you swallowed thickly.

“Does that make you uncomfortable?” Jimin asked.

“I-I’ve never really been one for dependence on other people. You know? I like to do things myself if I can,” you said.

“Well, we wouldn’t force you to do anything of course but, if you did want or need anything, we would be more than happy to provide you with it,” Jungkook said.

“Thank you, that’s very sweet,” you said.

“You’d be carrying our child,” Jimin said as if it were obvious.

“Of course,” you said softly.

“Hey, if you don’t want to do this then don’t feel pressured. Don’t let money be an object in what you want to do with your life. It’s not healthy,” Jimin said.

“Thank you,” you said again.

“Well, I think it’s time to get going. I know you’ve met with other couples that have no doubt tried to convince you they’re the best option but... I really hope you chose us Y/N. You’d be the perfect surrogate for us,” Jungkook said, looking at you with a softened gaze.

And you knew it too.

You knew they were the couple you wanted to surrogate for, even if it cost you everything. You knew they deserved it. Not that any of the other families you had spoken to didn’t, but, they were the ones for you.

Your fertile window and ovulation were coming up so you had to make a choice and soon.

You’d met with the doctors at the clinic and they said that they were just waiting on you. Whomever you picked would have a meeting with you before the insemination on the rules and what you would have to do in regards to taking care of yourself. And then the money would be yours in full.

Calling the clinic you told them your answer.

“I would like to surrogate for Mr. Jeon and Mr. Park,” you said.

“Alrighty, I will give them a call and set up the appointment for them to get their end of the deal all set up and then we can get you all ready to go!” The receptionist said.

“Okay, thank you so much,” you said before hanging up.

Namjoon and Jin invited you over wanting to hear the news of everything going on with you.

And you couldn’t wait to see Annie again.

“Aw, you’re getting so big!” You said as you were greeted by Annie’s face in Jin’s arms.

“Yes she is!” Jin agreed. The cooing baby leaned forward, moving to capture your hair in her little fist.

You laughed and took her from Jin easily, he didn’t fight you and let you have your time with her. Rocking and bouncing her on your hip while the pair of them talked in the dining room.

Soon, a knocking came to the door.

Confusion swept over you, but regardless, you went to answer the door anyways.

Annie still on your hip, you opened the door to reveal Park Jimin and Jeon Jungkook, your new surrogate partners.

Frozen in shock the two of them looked at you as if they were equally confused.

You wondered if the clinic had told them you picked them yet. You had just gotten off the phone with them today, so you weren’t. Jungkook’s face went to you to Annie and then back to you.

“H-Hi?” You whispered.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” Jimin asked, cocking his head to the side.

“Came to have dinner with Jinnie and Joon, and Annie of course,” you smiled, raising the little one up on your hip more.

“Oh, did you know we were coming?” Jungkook asked.

“No, I had no idea,” you said.

“Ah! Are those the boys?” Jin’s voice echoed throughout the hall.

“Yes!” You yelled back.

“Let them in Y/N! We invited them over too!” Namjoon said.

“Please come in,” you said, moving out of their way as the couple greeted Jin and Namjoon fondly.

It appeared as though there were no hard feelings in regards to them getting a surrogate they wanted. But, you could see Jungkook’s longing on his face when he looked at Annie in your arms.

“She’s beautiful,” Jimin said, looking down at Annie as you rocked her to sleep.

“Mhmm, gorgeous. She’ll be stealing hearts just like her dads,” you said.

“Hey, Y/N,” Jimin said, keeping his eyes trained on the little one in your arms.

“Did you make your decision yet? It said on your profile that your ovulation window was coming up and I was just curious,” he said quietly.

“I did,” you said.

Jimin’s face fell.

“I see,” he swallowed.

“Jimin-”

“Alright you two, paws off the baby, my turn!” Namjoon said, walking in.

You handed the sleeping baby over without a fuss before you and Jimin both walked out into the living room. Jimin whispered something to Jungkook and his face dropped. But you couldn’t find the words in your mouth. You wanted to tell them you picked them. You moved to talk to them when you felt Jin’s presence behind you.

“Y/N? You alright?” Jin asked, placing his hand on your shoulder.

“Yeah.”

It was getting later, and you were feeling sleepy from all the food you’d eaten during the night.

Jimin and Jungkook looked at your sleepy form and their hearts broke all over again.

“I can’t believe she didn’t pick us,” Jungkook said, face betraying how he felt.

“Babe, you can’t force her. I-I thought we had a good chance but,” Jimin sighed.

“I don’t want to keep looking for a surrogate if this is going to happen every time,” Jungkook said, pain coming through in his voice.

“Jungkook you know how badly I want this too right? It’s not just you hurting here,” Jimin said.

“We’ve been trying for two years to find a surrogate and when we find one we want, they always pick someone else. Why? Are we that undesirable? I don’t understand,” Jungkook sighed.

“It’s not that,” Jimin whispered. “Maybe it’s just not our turn yet.”

“When is it gonna be our turn, huh?” Jungkook said. “I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

“We can’t give up,” Jimin said softly. “I don’t want to give up yet.”

“I know baby,” Jungkook said, kissing Jimin’s cheek softly.

You felt your heart pounding in your chest. These poor men were really hurting for a baby. A family to call their own.

Sitting up Jimin and Jungkook looked at you in fear.

“Y/N? Y-You were awake-oh God I’m so sorry you had to hear that-” Jimin said frantically.

“I picked you two,” you said.

Their eyes shot up to meet yours.

Jungkook’s were glossy from unshed tears and Jimin’s were widening by the second.

“You what?”

“I said I picked you two. I want to surrogate for you two,” you explained.

“But-in the nursery you said-” Jimin started.

“I said I had picked someone, I didn’t say who silly,” you smiled.

“Oh thank you Y/N!” Jungkook said, coming over to hold your hand in his.

“You don’t know what this means to us,” Jimin said.

“I know you two want this baby more than anything, I want to give it to you. Honestly, you two have waited long enough,” you said, heart stammering at the look of hope in their eyes.

“You’re perfect Y/N! Seriously!” Jimin cried, holding onto Jungkook for dear life.

“Thank you, you’re very sweet. I’m supposed to go in for the, you know, business end of it on Monday. They said they’d call you tomorrow. I just gave my answer today,” you told them.

“Okay, alright sounds good,” Jungkook said, wiping his eyes furiously.

“You gonna be okay?” You asked, looking at the two of them.

“Of course, more than okay.”

—

Monday creeped up on you quickly, faster than you thought.

You went to the clinic and sat down, getting signed in and everything before you saw Jungkook and Jimin waltz in looking like a million bucks.

Dressed head to toe in designer clothing, you realized you didn’t know what they did for a living. You hadn’t really looked at their profiles all that much. But you knew their baby would have everything they could ever want and more.

Smiling at them and waving, the two of them made their way over to you.

“Hey! What’s going on?” Jimin asked, sitting down in the chair next to you.

“Just waiting,” you said, looking at the pair of them together.

They looked like the traditional power couple. Strong, dependable and handsome to boot. It was kind of overwhelming.

Jungkook was wringing his hands together, biting his lip as he looked around the room.

“You alright Jungkook?”

“Yeah just-”

“Mr. Jeon, Mr. Park and Miss Y/N? The legal assistant will see you now,” a voice from the corner called.

“Let’s go,” you said, standing up and heading towards the back room.

You sat down and the rules of the road were laid out.

If you signed the contract Jimin and Jungkook were the parents of the child. You had no rights unless they said otherwise. You would be given a lump sum of money, transferred into your bank account the day they know you’re pregnant and expecting. If anything happens to the baby such as a miscarriage or something of the like that you had no control over, you would be able to keep the money. But, they would like to try again to see if the next one stuck better.

“So, if you conceive twins, which your likelihood is good, Mr. Jeon and Mr. Park have agreed to pay you double,” you almost choked on your drink.

Double?

“What?” You squeaked out.

“It’s written right here,” the legal assistant said, pointing to the document in her hands.

“Okay,” you said softly, not wanting to make either of them uncomfortable.

“The total of your payment will come to $153,000 dollars,” the legal assistant said. “If you conceive twins.”

Your head swirled.

What would you do with all that money? Jimin and Jungkook looked at you with worry.

“I-Is it not enough? We can give you more if you want-”

“No! No no, that is totally acceptable. More than,” you said.

“Okay, just making sure,” Jimin answered.

“If you would please initial here, Miss Y/N. And then a signature here at the bottom and then you two will also need to sign as well,” she said.

After all the paperwork was done your date for insemination was set.

Jimin and Jungkook looked at you as you walked out of the clinic.

“Hey! Y/N! Hold on,” Jungkook said, walking forward.

“Huh? What is it?” You asked turning around.

Jungkook’s bright eyes blinded you as he gazed into your own. But you kept your breathing steady as you could.

“Do you want a ride home? Jimin and I cleared our schedules so we could be here today, and... Well we don’t want you to get hurt or anything,” he said, pointing to the black suburban.

“Oh, it’s alright I was gonna go to the bookstore and get a few things and then head home but I’ll be fine, no worries,” you smiled.

“We insist, Y/N,” Jimin said, walking forward to take his partner’s hand.

“Um, well... It’s really not that far, I’m sure it’ll be okay,” you said.

“Well, if you’re really sure,” Jungkook said.

“Yeah, but I’ll see you two on Thursday right? That’s when I’m supposed to... Well, you know,” your said, looking down at your feet.

“Of course! If you want us to be there that is,” Jimin said.

“Yes, it’s your baby,” you said.

“Okay, we’ll see you Thursday then,” Jungkook agreed, waving at you before he and Jimin got into the suburban and left.

But you couldn’t help the feeling you had as you watched them drive away.

Sadness.

—

You walked into the clinic Thursday morning, sweat pooling in your palms. You were reaching the end of your wire at your apartment. And you weren’t going to get the money in time. You were worried and didn’t want to bother Namjoon and Jin... So you just kept it to yourself.

You felt the fear and worry eating you up inside as you sat in the waiting room.

The doctor called your name and you headed back towards the room, when someone shouted your name.

Jimin and Jungkook were there, smiling brightly at you.

Your heart eased at seeing the two men, so happy and radiant. Everything you weren’t currently. But, knowing you were giving them something so important really made you feel better. Even if it was just for the time being.

“Oh my gosh, we’re finally getting a baby!” Jimin squeaked.

“Easy, it’s probably not going to happen first try,” you reminded him of what the doctor said.

“Bet I could get you pregnant in one shot,” Jungkook smirked.

“Oh shush Kook. But if you got her pregnant you wouldn’t get those twins you want so badly now would you, butthead,” Jimin said, shoving the younger man around slightly.

You tried to keep yourself from blushing but the redness that twinged your cheeks was there regardless. You were here to get pregnant, that was the end goal of today.

“Alright, Miss Y/N, we’re going to take you back and get you all set and then Mr. Park and Mr. Jeon have said they wanted to take you home after. Is that alright with you?” The doctor asked.

“Yes, that’s fine,” you said.

“Okay, let’s head back then,” Jungkook gave you a gentle smile before Jimin came forward and gave your knuckles a quick kiss.

“Good luck, Y/N,” he said.

“Thanks,” you answered before heading back.

The whole process took around a hour and a half, most of it waiting.

The sensation wasn’t too bad, but you were a little uncomfortable. Everything was super sterile and not how you expected you’d get pregnant, but... It wasn’t your baby at the end of the day. You tried not to wiggle as you laid there, letting Jimin’s seed try to impregnate you.

Finally, the timer went off and you were allowed to leave to go home.

Jimin and Jungkook were sat in the waiting room, chatting with each other excitedly. You knew that this was it, that they were more than perfect for this baby. You were beyond happy you could give it to them.

“Y/N!” Jimin said, walking up to greet you.

“Hey,” you said easily, noticing Jungkook come up behind him.

“We’re here to take you home!” Jimin smiled.

“Thanks guys,” you said softly.

“We brought the car around already so you don’t have to walk too much. Don’t wanna spoil all our hard work,” Jimin said, looking at your tummy with affection.

“Like I said Jimin, it probably won’t happen this time. But you never know, you might have some strong swimmers,” you joked.

“You have no idea, Y/N,” he said, gazing into your eyes for a moment.

Your breath caught in your throat. He looked like an angel wrapped in sin, as if he were so good yet so bad for you. It made your head spin.

Jungkook held the car door open for you and you got in carefully. Jimin sat in the back with you while Jungkook sat up front.

Of course these two had a driver...

Jimin was looking out the window and noticed that they were getting into the sketchier part of town. His worry was eating him alive. He didn’t want the mother of his child staying here! That simply wouldn’t do.

You got out of the car, heading towards your apartment when the landlord approached you. Jungkook and Jimin were still getting out of the car when he exploded at you.

“There’s the little bitch now!” He growled, grabbing your wrist and twisting it painfully.

You yelped, trying not to move so much. It only made it hurt more.

“Let me go!” You said.

“You filthy cunt, you owe me almost six thousand dollars! And you dare to come back here without anything? Huh? Nothing? Where have you been huh? Selling your body to make some cash I bet, that’s what little whore’s like you do right? Fucking pathetic,” he spits at you.

“I-I just need a little more time-” a resounding smack is heard through the parking lot.

Jimin and Jungkook look up to see your head turned sharply to the side and a man gripping your wrist.

Both of the men flew off the handle.

“Let go of her you fucker!” Jungkook yelled, walking forward with purpose.

“Don’t you dare touch her!” Jimin growled, pulling you away from the man.

“Did you fucking hit her?” Jungkook said, looking at your reddened cheek.

“Bitch owes me money, she knows that-”

“Fucker!” Jungkook snarled, grabbing the man by his shirt and lifting him.

“Y/N? Sweetie can you hear me?” Jimin whispered. Your head was swimming with pain and discomfort. Your cheek was screaming at you. But what hurt worse was the embarrassment. They saw it all, that you couldn’t take care of yourself. How on earth were you going to take care of a baby if you got pregnant for nine months? Huh?

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, he hurt you. Jungkook put him down and call the cops,” Jimin said.

“I owe him money, I just-”

“You can’t arrest me! You fuckheads, do you know who I am?” He asked.

“Do you know who we are? Hi I’m Jeon Jungkook, heir to the Jeon Law Firm here in the city. You might have heard of us, and she is the mother of my future child and you won’t be putting your hands on her ever again,” Jungkook said.

“I just wanna leave, I don’t... I don’t wanna be here,” you whimpered.

“But Y/N,” Jimin said.

“Can we leave? Please?” You begged, looking up at him with a swollen cheek and glossy eyes. Jimin’s heart broke five times over, seeing you so upset.

“Jungkook, come on. Let’s go,” Jimin said.

“And leave her with this fucking piece of shit? I think not, no we’re going to-Y/N? Are you alright?” Jungkook asked, coming forward and looking at your face with a tenderness you didn’t know was there.

“We’ll take her home with us,” Jimin said easily.

“Okay, yeah. But we’re calling the cops on that dickbag when we get back. I want him arrested for hurting her,” Jungkook said with finality.

“Of course baby,” Jimin said, soothing the younger male.

“Can we just go?” You asked, looking up at them for a moment.

“Yes, of course we can, let’s get you in the car and go back to our place,” Jungkook said, coming forward and getting into the back seat this time. Jimin encouraged you to get inside, so you did, him following shortly thereafter.

“Take us home please,” Jungkook said, shutting the little window between the front of the car and the back.

You sat between the two men, each of them looking out the window and appearing to be deep in thought. You were as well. You hoped this didn’t affect your chances of getting pregnant. You don’t know what you’d do if you couldn’t get this baby. The prospect of so much money on the line, you very future.

Also, you worried for Jungkook and Jimin. You really wanted this to work for their sake too.

They’d been waiting so long.

You were swallowed into the dreamscape of your thoughts. Nothing really getting in or out of your mind. You were just reeling at everything that had happened in less than four hours. You had your first attempt at insemination, went home and got assaulted and now you were heading to the upper end of the city with the two men who wanted you to have a baby for them.

This was all so much to handle.

Finally, the car stopped moving and Jimin quickly ushered you out of the vehicle. You stood there and looked up at the stunning building with a weird sense of fear. It loomed over you, almost intimidatingly so.

Jimin told the driver to go park the car and take the rest of the day off while Jungkook gathered their things from the back. You looked around and noticed that people were staring at you.

No doubt you looked like a sore pink thumb right now. Tear stained and swollen cheeks making you look even more outlandish in the area. But, Jungkook quickly moved everyone inside.

The door man asked who you were and Jimin and Jungkook simply told the truth.

“She’s our surrogate, we’re having her stay with us for a while. If she needs anything, make sure she gets it!” Jimin said.

“Absolutely Mr. Park,” the doorman said.

“Come on Y/N,” Jungkook said, heading towards the elevator.

You followed behind them quickly, getting in the mirrored elevator. Looking at yourself you felt all the anxiety and fear come back. You didn’t belong here, you were wearing a pair of fucked up jeans, a flannel and t-shirt. They were dressed in beautiful clothing, dipped in the finest silks and satins.

You looked like a charity case no doubt.

It made your stomach churn in discomfort. But you kept your mouth shut. You were providing them with a service. And in turn they were paying you. It was a give and take situation. But you couldn’t help but feel as though you were taking more than you were giving.

Jungkook held the door while you and Jimin entered the house. You looked around and the apartment was massive. Bigger than your Aunt’s tiny house in the country. You wondered just how much money these two had.

Soon, Jimin was sitting you down on the couch and tending to your cheek. His heart crumpled when you flinched at his touch. He tried not to take it personally, you were literally just assaulted. But he hoped you weren’t scared of him, or Jungkook.

“Should I call the doctor?” Jungkook asked, coming in and sitting next to Jimin.

“No, she’s just a little swollen, she’ll be alright,” Jimin said, handing you the painkillers and some ice.

“Can she have that?” Jungkook asked, referring to the pain medicine.

“It’s acetaminophen she can have it,” Jimin confirmed.

“Okay,” he said, standing up and heading towards the kitchen.

“Are you hungry?” Jimin asked, looking at you for any signs of discomfort.

“Not particularly, but I should eat. Especially today,” you said, a weak smile on your face. Jimin nodded, but headed towards the kitchen regardless.

Soon after, a wonderful aroma filled the apartment. But you hadn’t moved from the couch, keeping your eyes trained on the TV Jimin turned on for you. You didn’t particularly want to watch the news, but you weren’t sure on how to work this TV. It made your brain hurt. But, whatever, you kept your eyes on the screen, not looking anywhere in particular.

Jimin soon came out, wearing a smile that must be a signature for him or something. He told you dinner was ready and to follow him. Turning off the TV with a swipe of his finger on the screen you marveled at the technology.

He patted your cheek and brought you into the dining room.

Jungkook was finishing putting the food out when you sat down. He and Jimin were deep in conversation. You picked at your food, eating a few pieces if Jimin put them on your plate. But other than that, you sat unmoving in the corner.

You supposed you were still in shock of what had happened today.

Soon, you felt the distinct cramping in your lower stomach, something you were told is to be expected. Especially if the pregnancy took. Letting out a puff of air, you held your stomach. It wasn’t terrible, but the discomfort had you adjusting in your seat.

Jungkook’s head snapped in your direction, carefully observing you.

“Everything alright? Y/N?” He asked, cocking his head to the side in a cute way.

Forcing a smile you nodded.

“Yeah, just cramping a little bit,” you said, keeping your hands together underneath the table.

“Is it bad?” Jungkook asked, leaning towards you.

“No-ah!” You said, clutching your stomach. It didn’t hurt as much as it caught you off guard. But the two men were beside you in seconds.

“Y/N? Do you want us to call the doctor?”

“Is there something we can get for you? Do you want more pain medicine?”

“N-No, honestly, I’m okay,” you said, giving them each a squeeze to their wrist.

Jimin nodded, standing up and moved to start cleaning up the meal. Jungkook placed a couple more pieces of meat on your plate, asking you to eat them. He thought it could help your cramping, but he mainly just wanted to see you eat something.

Soon, the pair of them had cleaned up the meal and had gathered some clothes for you to wear to bed.

“We’ll pick up some stuff for you to wear tomorrow,” Jungkook said smiling.

“N-No that’s alright I can go back and get my stuff,” you said.

“You’re not going anywhere near that building,” Jimin warned, voice low.

“What? I have to get my stuff-”

“We’ll have someone go collect your things and bring them back here,” Jimin said, careful.

“I can go it’s not a big deal-”

“Y/N, please, just let us take care of this,” Jungkook said, quietly coming over to your side.

You were far too tired to argue. But you already felt like a cat in a cage. So you waved off the disagreement and decided to just head to bed.

The cramping was still there, but not nearly as bad as it had been when you were at the table. Laying down helped, but you felt something in your underwear.

Quickly, you went to the bathroom and noticed some blood in your underwear. Biting your lip, you tried to keep yourself from panicking. Putting them back on you went to living room and found Jimin sitting on the couch, looking tired.

“J-Jimin,” you said quietly.

His head snapped up and he gave you a little smile.

“Yes, Y/N?” He asked, coming towards you. You sighed and ran your hands through your hair.

“I-I was bleeding,” you said, voice straining slightly.

“You were? Where?” He asked, brows furrowing.

“M-My, uh, I found it in my underwear,” you said, breathing in deeply.

“Was it a lot?” He asked, keeping a cool exterior.

“N-No, not a lot but it worried me,” you said, trying to keep yourself from freaking out on him.

“It’s normal to spot a little after the IUI, don’t worry. But tell me if anymore happens. They did just shove a tube up your business,” he said, laughing lightly.

Immediately you were put at ease. Sensing your relief, Jimin patted your shoulder.

“It’s okay to be nervous, we are,” Jimin said, nodding towards the closed door you assumed was to their bedroom.

“Yeah, I’m-I just really want this to work,” you confessed, feeling yourself relax a bit.

“We do too, more than anything,” Jimin answered, giving you a genuine grin.

“I’m glad that the baby will have you two as parents, makes me feel good knowing that they’ll be taken care of,” you smiled back.

Jimin’s face seemed to morph into a look of joy and agony at the same time.

“You’re too sweet, Y/N, honestly. Jungkook and I are beyond excited,” he explained.

“Have you always wanted to be a father?” You asked him, out of the blue. Jimin blushed and looked down at his feet.

“Y-Yeah, ever since I was little I always wanted a family to call my own. And when I met Jungkook I knew it was just meant to be you know? Like, everything just made sense,” he said, a sheepish look taking over his features.

“That’s so sweet,” you gushed.

“It’s the truth,” he shrugged.

“I want someone to look at me the way you look at Jungkook, like I’m their whole world and more. I’ve never been one for dating though,” you said, looking down at the floor, embarrassed.

“No? How many boyfriends or girlfriends have you had?” Jimin asked, not thinking. When the shocked look took over your face he back peddled. “I-I shouldn’t have asked, that doesn’t deem your worth or anything like that-”

“None,” you said, blushing bright red.

Jimin’s face changed.

“Tell me if I’m out of line here, but have you ever, uh... You know, um,” he said, rubbing his hands together.

“Oh? Sex? Yeah, I’ve done it before, but it wasn’t really anything special. I don’t even think I-um... Nevermind,” you said, biting your lip hard.

“You don’t think you what? You didn’t cum?” Jimin said, as if he were shocked.

“No! Now keep your voice down!” You yelped.

Jimin frowned.

“That’s horrible, you deserve better,” Jimin said matter of factly.

“It happens, but, this conversation has gotten away from us,” you said, trying to steer it away from your pathetic sex life and more towards the fact that you both need to go to bed. “I’m tired, had a long day.” You said, rubbing your arms.

“Of course, absolutely! If you need anything or something happens, our room is right here just come get us,” Jimin said.

“Okay, thanks,” you said, turning, but not before you wished him a good night.

Jimin gave you a small smile. “Good night, Y/N, sleep well.”

—

Soon your stuff was all moved into the boys apartment. You questioned when you would be leaving, but the boys said that you didn’t have to worry about departing for the foreseeable future.

They had originally wanted you to live with them if and when they found out you were pregnant, that way they could be there through it all. But, these stages after the insemination could be hard on you and they decided to keep you with them.

You felt like a little kid half the time, but you had to call in to work often because of these appointments. And quickly, they tired of it.

“Y/N, we love you and we want you to pick here to work, but honestly your attendance is a severe issue right now,” your supervisor said over the phone. You called in that day because you just were feeling super exhausted.

You hadn’t told them you’d signed up for a surrogacy. You weren’t sure how that would go over, but, maybe you had to if you wanted to save your job.

“I-I’m calling in all the time because I’m trying to get pregnant,” you said softly.

Laughter came from the other side of the phone.

You were being laughed at.

“Oh my God, Y/N, that’s hilarious! But seriously, I have to put you on a two week suspension without pay because-”

“Dawn, I'm serious. I signed up with the fertility clinic and I’m currently trying to become a surrogate for a lovely couple,” you said, honestly.

“Y/N, why did you sign up for that? As far as any of us knew, you weren’t that into kids,” Dawn said over the phone.

“I-I like kids, but the baby won’t be mine to keep. The couple gets to keep them once they are born. I lose all rights as a parent,” you explained.

“That’s kinda cruel... Let you carry the baby for nine months then force you to leave them. I don’t know if I could do that,” she said.

“I-It’s the way it is,” you said. “But I need to have the day off, I have an appointment at the clinic.”

“Y/N, would it be easier if we just let you quit?” Dawn said.

“What?!” You shrieked into the phone.

“Well, it’s a delicate time and we'd have you working on your feet for long hours. I don’t want anything to happen to you or your baby,” she said, sounding sad.

“But I don’t wanna leave you guys,” you whimpered.

“Well, once the little tike is born come back. We’ll hire you back, I promise. If you want to come back,” she offered.

“Y-You’ll really let me come back?” You said, biting your lip.

It would be nice to just focus on the pregnancy and helping Jungkook and Jimin. If you had the option, maybe it would be better to take her advice and go back when you were ready. Hopefully they don’t screw you over.

“Of course we will! We love you! But, right now isn’t the best time for you to be working. Focus on you and your little bundle okay? We’ll be waiting,” she said.

“Oh thank you Dawn! I love you guys too!”

After a little tears ‘see you later’, you hung up.

Soon, a soft knock came to your door. Looking up you saw Jungkook there, dressed to the nines looking at you. Raising a brow you assessed the situation.

“What’s up?” You said, setting your phone down to give him your undivided attention.

“I was wondering if you needed a ride to work, you’re already an hour late,” he said, pointing to the clock on your wall.

“Oh, about that,” you said, rubbing your hands together.

“Did something happen? Did they fire you for being our surrogate? Oh just let me make one phone call, that’s illegal! I’m a lawyer, let me talk some sense into them!” Jungkook said, turning to walk out.

“No, Jungkook! It’s fine, they told me to take the time off. To spend time focusing on myself and to take care of the baby,” you explained. “My job will be there when I’m ready to return.”

Jungkook stopped and looked at you. His features softened before nodding.

“Okay, but if they try to tell you you can’t go back when you’re ready, you just tell me. I won’t let anyone disrespect or lie to you,” he said, a stern look on his face.

“Thanks Jungkook, that means a lot,” you said, giving a smile.

“There’s food in the fridge, all you have to do is heat it up. You have the house to yourself so, do whatever you want,” Jungkook said, waving before walking out of your room.

You sat there for a minute, really mulling over what you wanted to do. Honestly, you were so sore and tired you just wanted to fall back asleep. But you decided that it was better to get up and do some activity. Hopefully that would be okay.

It had been about ten days since your IUI appointment and you were mainly just tired. Although fatigue was a symptom of an attachment. But that was the only symptom you were having, you were meant to test in a couple days to see if you were pregnant, but something had you worried.

If you weren’t pregnant, you’d have to wait a whole other month. They did tell you that sometimes it took multiple tries to successfully impregnate someone. But you really wanted this to work, you just wanted to get this going.

That way Jimin and Jungkook could have their baby already.

You knew they’d be amazing fathers, already with their dutiful actions towards you. So willing to do whatever you asked, but you tried your best not to pester them too much. You tried to make it as though you weren’t even there. But they insisted you join them for dinner so they could make sure you were eating well.

For your day you mainly just puttered around the house, picking up and doing little things that wouldn’t aggravate you. So, you settled down with a book in your hands and soft music playing in the background.

That’s how Jimin and Jungkook found you when they came home. Curled up on the couch with a novel between your fingers. Jimin smiled softly, looking at the picturesque scene.

“Do you think she’s pregnant?” Jungkook asked, looking at his boyfriend with apprehension.

“I hope so,” Jimin answered.

“She’s really tired lately, sleeping late and going to bed early. That’s a sign, right?” Jungkook said.

“It is, but that’s also a sign of a woman’s period coming up,” Jimin warned.

“Damn...” Jungkook said, rubbing his face.

“But I don’t know, she’s due to test soon so, we might have our baby,” Jimin soothed.

You looked up from your book, noticing the pair in the entryway. Giving them a shy smile, you waved, nose getting buried back in the book. Jimin laughed lightly, heading towards the kitchen.

The two cooked dinner, making something easy to digest. Your stomach was on the fritz yesterday so they want to make sure they don’t upset your sensitive tummy. But, as Jimin looked out at you reading on the couch, a blanket draped along your lap. He couldn’t help but love the domesticity of it all. You looked at peace, in your element and comfortable.

Jimin hoped it would stay that way. With you, comfy and cared for.

Jungkook rushed past with the boiling soup in his hands, moving quick like a little kid to set the table for you all. Jimin just laughed, smacking his butt when he came back.

“Hey! Paws off,” Jungkook pouted.

“Hmm? That’s not what you were saying the other night,” Jimin laughed at the scandalized look on Jungkook’s face. “I’m kidding, come on go get Y/N so we can eat.”

Jungkook went to gather you from the living room and was met with an unusual sight. You passed out, wrapped in the blanket with your book on the floor.

He smiled, moving towards you slowly. He placed a soft hand on your head, patting your hair gently. Your eyes opened slowly, looking up at him with sleepy eyes. Jungkook helped you up, leading you to the dining room.

The meal was quiet, Jungkook and Jimin making small talk with you, but mostly you were just eating peacefully.

You ate well and leaned back, as you tended to do when you were full and let out a huff. Jimin repressed the smile on his face with the back of his hand. Jungkook smiled openly, looking at your sleepy form.

Sitting back up you took a few more swallows of water before you stood up and thanked them for the meal and headed towards your room.

Jungkook and Jimin watched you go, each having a weird tightening in their chest at the sight of your swaying hips.

—

You had finally reached the two week mark.

Time to test.

Jimin and Jungkook went with you, driving you to the clinic for your appointment at the ass crack of dawn it felt like.

Jimin was chatting excitedly in the front seat with Jungkook. You could see the looks of love on their faces as they talked about their future with their child. It made butterflies rise in your stomach.

Quickly smacking your cheeks, you tried to forget the sensation of hope building in your belly.

Soon you were all at the clinic, Jimin helping you out of the car. The two men walked on either side of you, making sure everyone knew who you were here with. It made you feel protected, watched over.

Important.

After all the paperwork was done for the visit, Jungkook and Jimin sat down next to you. They interlocked their hands, smiling brightly at each other. You locked your hands together and looked down at them.

“Miss Y/N? Mr. Park and Mr. Jeon? Are you all ready?” A nurse called and you all headed back to a secluded room, a few chairs and the like ready. You saw the needles and everything set up and you swallowed hard.

You hated needles, with a passion.

But you’d done it before, so you’d do it again.

“Y/N? You okay?” Jungkook asked, looking at your paling face.

“Y-yeah, nervous around needles,” you confessed.

“Oh, do you want some water or something?”

“No I’m okay,” you encouraged.

“If you’re sure,” Jungkook said, looking like he wanted to do more...

“Alright! We’re gonna take some blood and a urine sample, so if you two would just wait outside for a moment while we get her changed, then you can come back in if you want,” the nurse explained.

You got changed and hopped up on the table.

They asked a bunch of questions, all fairly standard. Then they brought out the needles. Jimin saw you flinch when the packaging came off and you saw the syringe come closer.

“Hang on,” Jimin said, standing up.

The nurse stopped and looked up in confusion, that’s when Jimin took your hand in his and squeezed.

“You can hold my hand while they take your blood okay? Just squeeze if you need to,” he said, looking at your face for any signs of resistance.

You bit your lip and nodded.

The nurse took your blood quickly, getting a few vials full. Jungkook watched as his boyfriend held your hand the whole time, keeping you calm and at ease.

He hoped with everything he was that this had worked.

God, he wanted it to work so bad.

Soon, the two men were being ushered out of the room so you could do your urine sample.

After everything was done and over with, you got dressed and went to the waiting room. Jimin and Jungkook stood up when they saw you, waving you over to sit with them.

All three of you waited with baited breath as they ran the tests. They kept asking if you wanted anything, water, juice or something to eat. But you politely declined. Knowing if you put anything in your body right now you’d puke it up immediately with how nervous you were for the results.

They said it shouldn’t take too long.

It had been about an hour when a nurse popped her head out, signaling for all three of you to come back.

“Dr. Heinz will see you now,” she said, giving you all a small smile before leading you down the hallway towards the offices.

Shortly, you were sat on a comfortable sofa with Jungkook and Jimin in front of you. Jungkook and Jimin were holding onto each other so tight you feared for their circulation. But, Dr. Heinz was quick to get to the point.

“Well, I want to say, congratulations, Mr. Jeon and Mr. Park... Y/N is pregnant,” he said, talking like you weren’t in the room.

“Oh my God!” Jungkook shouted, standing up and hugging Jimin to him tightly. They kissed several times, tears falling freely down the new father’s faces. Dr. Heinz let them have their moment, smiling at the happy couple. You looked down at your stomach and bit your lip.

So this was really happening...

“Jungkook, I love you,” Jimin said, holding onto his boyfriend tightly.

“I love you too babe, I love you too,” Jungkook affirmed.

“Okay we do have to discuss her health however,” Dr. Heinz said, having the men sit down quickly.

“Is she alright?” Jimin said, looking at you with worry written all over his features.

“She’s at a very fragile point in the pregnancy. IUI can be tricky so we need to be very careful with what happens next. I don’t want her doing anything strenuous. Especially with the lower body until we can get her in for an ultrasound. Her uterus looked good on her preliminary but getting pregnant can really affect a woman’s body, so we need to take all the precautions,” Dr. Heinz explained.

“But is she going to be okay?” Jungkook asked, placing a gentle hand on yours.

You looked at his big hand covering yours, blinking slowly.

“I’m worried about her low white blood cell count. That makes her more susceptible to colds and infections, so you need to be very careful. Her red blood cell count was also low, showing early signs of anemia. So lots of red meat and protein to help keep her levels up. Although the anemia will be aggravated by the pregnancy, so make sure she doesn’t stand up too fast or tax herself too much,” he said.

“I am right here,” you said, glaring at the doctor.

“Sorry Miss Y/N, they’re the parents in this situation. I want them to be informed of your situation,” Dr. Heinz said bluntly.

“There are four of us in this room, I’ll remind you of that. Don’t talk like I’m not here please,” you said, folding your hands and crossing your legs.

Jimin almost burst out laughing.

Damn you were feisty!

He really liked that...

“I-I apologize, Miss Y/N,” he said, swallowing quickly before continuing on. “Also, you’re going to start having more symptoms than the fatigue you mentioned. Morning sickness is extremely common and expected, although every woman is different. Headaches, dizziness and blurred vision are also to be noted. Even some spotting can happen, but please do tell us if you’re spotting or bleeding. Now, do any of you have questions?” The doctor asked, looking at the boys and you.

“Is there any way to know if we are expecting, more than one?” Jimin asked, looking down at your stomach with pure adoration on his face.

“We won’t really know until she’s further along. Quite a bit further actually. But for now, enjoy this. Enjoy the early stages, it’ll be tough but you can pull through. I wish you all the best of luck,” Dr. Heinz said, handing some paperwork over to Jungkook before the three of you stood up and headed out.

Jimin and Jungkook were so excited, chatting with each other about if they were having twins. If the baby was a boy or girl. You were in the car, hands folded in your lap while you looked out the window.

Honestly, you were scared out of your mind.

The doctor had mentioned this was a really fragile part of the pregnancy. That you’d have to be careful, not to mention it was important for your own health as well. If something happened to the baby, something could happen to you and vice versa.

Jungkook insisted on taking everyone out for dinner.

This was a big occasion after all.

Sitting down in the very resturant you all had your first meal in, felt kinda surreal.

Now, you were pregnant with their baby. It felt kinda full circle.

Jimin and Jungkook insisted on getting whatever you wanted. But you weren’t terribly hungry yet, maybe it was the nerves of the whole day catching up. But you ordered a few things, making sure to eat. You knew it made them happy when you did, because it showed you cared about your body and the life growing inside of you.

Jungkook was drinking, a lot if you were being honest. Jimin just watched him as his cheeks flushed red as he continued to talk animatedly at the two of you. Smiling, you filled up Jungkook’s water before urging him to drink some.

“Thanks youuu,” he said, beaming at you.

“You’re welcome, but drink up okay?” You said, gesturing towards the glass.

He did as you asked, drinking all the water. You sighed in relief, knowing at least he’d be hydrated when he went to bed.

“Well, guess you aren’t driving you big lug,” Jimin laughed as he hauled Jungkook out of the restaurant a while later.

“Mmm, we’re having a baby baby!” Jungkook cooed at Jimin, holding his cheeks in between his hands.

“Mhmm, yes we are. Now get in the back with Y/N, okay?” Jimin said, opening the back and helping his very tipsy boyfriend inside. You were about to climb in when Jimin placed his hands on your hips, causing you to jolt so hard you smacked your head on the roof of the car.

“Ow, fuck,” you said, holding your head tightly.

“Y/N!” Jimin yelped. Jungkook’s head popped up.

“What happened?” He asked, looking at you with bleary eyes.

“I just smacked my head, I’m alright,” you said, rubbing your head gingerly.

“Can I take a look?” Jimin asked, biting his plump lips harshly.

“Y-yeah,” you said, leaning towards him.

Jimin’s gentle hands on your scalp proved to be dangerous. Because now, you wanted him to touch you here all the time. Combing his fingers through your hair. Massaging the tender flesh there.

“Well, you aren’t bleeding, but you’ll have a massive bump for a few days no doubt,” he reasoned.

“She’s gonna have a massive bump here soon too!” Jungkook cheered happily, pointing at your stomach.

“Jungkook, enough,” Jimin warned.

Grumbling to himself, Jungkook backed off.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Jimin asked. You nodded, already feeling the throbbing in the base of your skull starting.

“I’ll take a few pain killers when we get back,” you said.

“Okay,” Jimin said, running his hand from your head down to cradle your cheek in his palm. You’re cheeks heated up at the feeling of his skin on yours, but shortly he was retreating to the front of the car.

Soon, you were underway.

Jimin turned on the radio quietly, driving carefully around town.

Jungkook had managed to fall asleep against the window. When suddenly, the car was jerking to the side. Jimin laid on the horn, yelling a couple explicit words out the window. But, Jungkook’s body had already fallen into your lap.

His head rested comfortably against your thighs, arms draping across your legs. Jungkook continued to sleep peacefully while you inspected him. He had a beautiful nose, button like and slotting perfectly along with his already perfect features. His plush lips pouting as he slept. Your eyes widened at him, heart hammering in your chest as you gazed down at him.

He was incredibly handsome.

But, you knew his personality too. He was kind, but strong and sure of himself. He had an air of confidence that was almost infectious. But he also had a childish nature about him. Not immature, but there was something about the wonder in his eyes when he tried something new. Or the nostalgia that ran through him when he ate his favorite food or, just the sparkle in his eyes when Jimin came home.

You, as if possessed, took your hand and ran your fingers through his soft black hair. He groaned in his sleep, gripping your legs tighter. You continued to run your fingers through his hair, watching his face for any signs of discomfort.

Jimin looked in the rearview mirror and saw you stroking Jungkook’s head with a gentle hand. His heart thudded dangerously in his chest. You were so caring and tender, everything you did had purpose behind it.

Jimin felt relief flood him at the idea of you being the mother of he and Jungkook’s child. Technically just Jimin’s but Jungkook was also the father but he didn’t get any genetics in this one.

This one...

Did Jimin want to have more children?

You just got the announcement today and he was already giddy at the prospect of you growing large with his child. But confusion swept through him. Was this just because he was grateful to you? Or was it something more?

Looking at you and Jungkook in the back, he thinks he might already know the answer.

[harveybwabbit92]

Invader Zim: How they met. Tallest x reader, Zim x OC.

How they met:

Zim: (I made Zim's an OC: Drena Ove: She's a 24 year old Student Teacher, She's usually assisting and occasionally filling in for Miss Bitters, She knows that Zim is alien, but genuinely doesn't care, considering she’s an artificial human created and experimented on in a secret lab, she believes humanity has had it coming for while, and wants to help Zim in accomplishing his invasion, She has a bit of a history with the Membrane family..)

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Miss Bitters was late, she's never late... Zim was shifting anxiously in his seat and stiffened along with half the class when the principal walked in, informing the students that Miss Bitters will be taking a three day sick leave and all her education duties will be filled in by her TA, Dib looked perplexed and raised his hand. "We have a TA?" the Principal nodded. "Miss Ove come take your seat." Everyone looked at the door expectantly.

Only for someone to clear their throat everyone's attention was turned to the back of the class, where a short blond woman stood up from a chair, who the kids all thought was student like them, and a nosy one at that! They always ignored her offers of help; assuming Drena was just walking around the class watching them do their work so she could cheat off them, to say everyone was mortified was an understatement.

"Thankyou principal Murns... ah, w-where are you go-" the principal walked out the door as she was still talking. "Oh...*door slams* Okay." She awkwardly walked up to the front of the class, while looking through miss Bitters's lesson plan and sat down at the desk "So... um, any questions?" Again Dib raised his hand. "Questions that don't involve Aliens." the big headed boy lowered his hand.

Zim eagerly raised his hands and Drena cocked a brow. "Yes Zim?" the green skinned kid had this weird grin on his face when she said his name. "How tall are you?" The blond resisted the urge to snapped at this kid, barely two minutes in and someone was already gearing up to make fun of her height! "5'3"..." she muttered as a couple kids snickered causing Drena to wince, Their snickering was cut short by this look Zim shot them, it was filled with so much bloodlust and promises of death they shut up and stared at their desks.

The blond woman calm down and faced the class. "Right any other questions?" no one else raised their hands, So Drena started the lesson while Zim was left dealing with this weird tingly feeling in he had in his squeedlyspooch every time the short woman looked his way.  

========================================================================

The Tallest: You're about 6'3" and were friends with Drena working as a nightshift security guard in a creepy AF warehouse filled with ever more creepy old AF robots from Membrane labs, You are working as Zim's Henchwoman (when not at your actual job.) after Dib accidentally blew up your Motorhome (a classic Airstream you spent half a fortune to restore) thinking you were one of Zim’s alien allies in disguise and your motorhome was your ship in disguise! Needless to say You jumped at the chance for revenge and Dib was at the top of your shit list! 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Zim called you and Drena down to the lab to show off his latest plan however before he could say anything, he felt it necessary to start bursting out into loud maniacal laughter; that lasted for four hours! at some point you had curled up and fallen asleep, Drena had put a blanket over you and went upstairs to bed and Zim had just kind of forgotten about you. 

He thought your covered body was lumpy beanbag chair and sat down to call the tallest to let them know about his latest scheme to take over the earth. "Sounds great Zim... you should definitely do that." Red huffed while Purple mumbled something incomprehensible while pretending to listen, both wanting nothing more then to end this call go back to eating.

When this weird beeping noise caught the three Irkens off guard; Zim especially considering his chair started moving! he yelp as his "Chair" came to life throwing him of screen, Both Red and Purple started laughing hysterically at this, as you pulled the blanket off your head and looked around confused. 

You were still very groggy and heard laughter and Zim yelling at you to wake up and get out! when you looked down at your still beeping watch and saw it was 10:45 pm! That woke you up. "Shit! I'm gonna be late!" You freaked springing to  up your full height; nearly hitting your head off a low hanging cable.

There was startled gasp and the laugher stopped almost immediately, you paid no mind to it and looked around for you bag with your uniform inside and quickly got dressed not caring who saw, "What are you doing? Go change upstairs!?" Zim snapped while frantically using his body to block the screen, so no one saw you, while the Tallest peeked over him and watched slack jawed, as you finished doing up your shirt. "Sorry Boss no time, see ya at six am!" You hopped onto the elevator and ran to work.

There was a tense silence before Red spoke up "Who was that tall creature?" he said almost dazed before Zim could answer Purple cut in "And why does she call you boss?" he demanded arms crossed face scrunched up in disgust, Zim stared at his leaders awkwardly. "Uh... So remember when I said humans can be tall?" Both Red and Purple actually took Zim seriously...for once.

[amysteriousmessenger]

RFA reaction to their date giving them a nice valentine massage, candles and music and all? Maybe even with some “happy ending” scenarios if you know what I mean

Hello!! I’m so so sorry that this is belated, I think it’s the 6th of the Valentine’s Day requests, I just have two Saeran left after this, some of these are nsfw so I’ll mark out which ones are nsfw!!

Giving Yoosung Kim a Valentine’s Day Massage Headcanons

When you told Yoosung that you wanted to give him a massage for Valentine’s Day, he thought that you meant just giving his shoulders a quick rub, he didn’t know he’d be stripping for it! He’s a little embarrassed to be taking his shirt off in the middle of the day, so he might need a little reassurance that this is supposed to be good for him!

Obviously you were doing this in his college dorm room, so you had to close the curtains and use artificial candles in order to set the mood but not set the fire alarms off. You put some music on and convinced Yoosung to lay down on his stomach and shut his eyes. Instead of body oil, you used some moisturiser and squirted it onto your hands since it wouldn’t stain his sheets if you were a little messy, and Yoosung didn’t moisturise enough anyway. 

He had a lot of tension in his shoulders and neck from shitting at the computer all day, and after the initial awkwardness, he practically melted into your touch. He really enjoys it and comments about how he should learn how to do them so that he could also give you a massage, but then gets a little red in the face realising that he’d be rubbing his hands up and down your shirtless back, and proceeds to bury his head in the pillow a little bit.

When you hit the spot that’s just right, he absolutely lets out a moan. He’s embarrassed. It was rather loud too, so his flatmates definitely heard it. He’s somewhat ashamed that he let out what definitely sounded like a sex noise when it wasn’t even actually a sex noise.

Giving Jaehee Kang a Valentine’s Day Massage Headcanons

Jaehee had massages done professionally every month or so to help ease her muscles from all the overwork and the Judo practice, it’s no surprise that she was frequently feeling a little stiff. She was used to getting them done, it was routine, so why was she so nervous when you offered to give her one for Valentine’s Day?

You had already decorated the room, having bought some lavender scented candles to help relax her. Jaehee undressed in the dim room because she was suddenly a little shy of being the only one undressed, and then she laid on the padded pad you had laid out on the ground for her. 

Oh God she had so much tension, you weren’t even sure how she managed to move around with such a stiff back. You also noticed, with your mildly horny brain, how strong her muscles were. You could see how they were mildly defined in her shoulders and biceps, and thus paid extra attention to touching and squeezing them. 

Jaehee was also very clearly enjoying the massage, and commented on how she would purchase a bottle of the heated oil for herself to use after a difficult day of work or practice. 

Jaehee actually fell asleep during the massage, which you didn’t exactly mind, knowing how much she needed to sleep. You were actually pleased with yourself that between you and the lavender candles, you’d managed to make her feel that relaxed.

Giving Zen/Hyun Ryu a Valentine’s Day Massage Headcanons [mild NSFW]

Like Jaehee, Zen also frequently gets massages done. He gets them partially to help his muscles after long rehearsal hours, but he also just likes to pamper himself, call that self care. Zen is instantly up for a massage from you. He frequently gives them to you, so he already owns the candles, oils and even has a playlist of music ready and waiting on standby for you to use. He’s taken off his shirt already.

You give him on the massage on his bed because he said he feels like he can relax more. Instead of standing to the side like a normal masseuse would, you decide to be a little flirt and end up straddling Zen’s thighs in order to give him the massage, which he greatly enjoys. 

Zen’s rather vocal during the massage, groaning when you hit a spot with a particular bit of tension or just when he’s enjoying the feeling of your hands running over him. He’s particularly fond of you planning a line of kisses down his spine.

It is not difficult to notice that Zen starts getting half-hard during the massage, which he blames on your hands and the feeling of you straddling him, he tells you that he’s ‘only a man after all.’ 

You get Zen to turn over so he’d laying on his back, this time you sit in between his legs rather than on them, before asking if he would like ‘happy ending’ to his massage. Obviously, he does. 

You make a real show of it, continuing the massage down his chest, shoulders and abdomen whilst encouraging him to close his eyes and enjoy the feeling. You pull down his sweatpants and most definitely give him another kind of massage, since your hands were already oiled up. Needless to say, that’s the best massage Zen’s ever had.

Giving Jumin Han a Valentine’s Day Massage Headcanons [mild NSFW]

Jumin had gotten massages before, but he wasn’t a massive fan of them usually. He was a little too stiff and formal. He was absolutely not comfortable with taking his clothes off around a stranger and then having them touch him on top of that. So, when you asked to give him a massage for Valentine’s Day, it would take a little bit of coaxing before he’d consider it. He’d also entirely not read the room and suggest that he could get you lessons if you wanted to be a masseuse.

Timing would be key, it would have to be after Jumin had had a bath and was still in his bathrobe but whilst he was still enjoying his glass of wine. Once you’d set everything up, you’d have to pull Jumin over to the bench you’d ordered and convince him to lay down, saying he can use his robe to cover his lower half, which he found somewhat humorous seeing as you’d already seen ‘and experienced’ everything he had to offer you.

Jumin didn’t realise how much tension he was carrying in his lower back and neck, so having you give him a massage was a much more enjoyable experience than the massages he was used to. Sure, you’d rub his shoulders when he was hunched over his desk, but this was a little different since he had a full experience of it.

Having you touch him like this, rubbing your hands up and down his back and waist got him feeling a little bit hot and bothered after a while, and he wanted to do something about it. Jumin would absolutely be in the mood to give you a massage of a different kind. Since Jumin’s already lying down, it makes sense that you’d get on top.

Giving Saeyoung Choi a Valentine’s Day Massage Headcanons

The absolute state of this man’s back. He crunches when he walks and yawns. He’s supposed to be staying fit for the agency, but you aren’t convinced that he’s ever even attempted to do a warming up or cooling down stretch. You’d be hard pushed to get Saeyoung to agree, but if you give him big doe eyes and say it’s for Valentine’s day, maybe he’d be more likely to agree, especially if he’s been crunching on a long deadline that week. 

He’d actually a little bit more awkward about taking his clothes off than you would expect, you’d seen Seven shirtless many times before, but this time he felt a little bit more exposed because it felt so much more intimate to him. He wasn’t used to getting all of the attention. 

Once you start, you can actually hear some of his ribs and spine clicking back into place under the pressure. Part of you worries that you’re doing it wrong until Seven assures you ‘nah it’s fine, they just kinda do that’, which has surely occurred from spending so long at his computer. 

Within a few minutes, you feel him melting into the massage, sometimes emitting little gasps when you run your palms over a tough muscle. It was one of the rare occasions where Seven wasn’t running his mouth, and you were glad to see him relaxing a little. It didn’t remove the dark bags from under his eyes but you at least hopes it helped ease the stress lines forming on his forehead, even if it was just for a short while. 

[the-witty-pen-name]

It Happened On Sakaar Pt. 2

Mando x F!Reader; Loki x F!Reader

Rating: M; 18+ Only

Warnings: swearing, grieving, angst, slow burn, mentions of violence (smut in later chapters)

Word Count: 3.3k

Summary: The bounty hunter’s most recent puck sends him across the Galaxy to an unfamiliar and artificial planet named Sakaar- literally the galaxy’s trash can. Sakaar is a bizarre planet, but so is his most recent bounty. Din is chasing a man he only knows as The God of Mischief. The reader lives on Sakaar as a scrapper, a similar trade to that of a bounty hunter and has a tangled history with the man Mando is looking for. Will the unlikely duo team up to capture the mischievous Asgardian or will the reader fall victim to Loki’s promises?

A/N: 

IMPORTANT UPDATE

I made a Google form to be added to my taglists, so if you want to be added, the link is in my bio. I’ll only be adding people to the list if they requested to be added by filling out the form! This way all of the requests are just in one place so I don’t miss requests! Thank you!!! 

This is unedited and if I missed anything that I should include as a warning please let me know! Thank you y’all!

Part One

Tags and Requests are OPEN

You had just gotten paid another hefty sum for brining a new fighter to the Grandmaster, not as good as the supposed Lord of Thunder Scrapper 142 caught but still nonetheless, he was pleased and you were more than satisfied with your payment.  You were at a bar, feeling pretty good about yourself. You deserved it and you wanted to treat yourself to a drink. You sat on one of the barstools, nursing a drink and did your best to ignore the gladiators behind the barrier nearby. You weren’t looking forward to this upcoming fight, but then again, you didn’t particularly care about them in the first place anyways.  Scrapper 142 joined you, opting for a bottle instead of a glass.

 You understood her. It was an unspoken feeling you knew she also understood. You were similar people, and on this planet to escape your past. She had been here much longer than yourself, and you observe that nothing can penetrate her hard shell. She was invincible, and you envied her ability to keep her emotions at bay. Well, except for the drinking, but you still admired her.  At some point she went over to the barrier and actually spoke to one of the gladiators. It was odd, but you didn’t question it. When she got up, you bid your goodbyes and headed to get ready for the fight. You knew you wouldn’t see her at the arena, but you know she wouldn’t take it personally that you left without a goodbye.

Walking down the hallway towards the entrance, an arm grabbed your bicep and pulled you down an empty hallway. Without hesitation, you pulled your blaster with your free hand and pushed it to the temple of whoever grabbed you. When it made a clinking noise, you sighed, knowing exactly who it was.  “Mando,” you say curtly, yanking your arm free and turning to face him.  

“I need you to tell me about the God of Mischief,” he states plainly. 

“I thought you were a good bounty hunter,” you roll your eyes. 

“I didn’t get any information, I’m working with nothing,” he explains. You stare up at the visor, like somehow, you’d be able to study his eyes. You can feel them staring back at you though. 

“How is this my problem?” You scoff and he sighs, clearly getting frustrated.

 “You’re the only person I know on this planet that can help me,” he tries to insist, “I’ll split the reward, please.” 

“I’ll tell you what I know,” you say defeated. You felt bad for the man, and you knew it must’ve been hard for him to come to you. “But I’m not helping you hunt him down. I don’t want to be close to this.”

 “Deal,” he says, and offers out his gloved hand for you to shake.  

“We can’t talk here,” you state, “the fight is going to start soon and I need to be in attendance for a work thing.” 

“A work thing?” he taunts. You chuckle.

“Unless you want to join me,” you offer, “If you can get a babysitter.”

 “Fine,” he says, following your lead. You walk in silence to the stands, and you find your regular seat, and he takes the one next to you. You chuckle at how out of place he looks, too bulky from the armor to fit comfortably.  

“Do you always need to wear all this?” you ask him, gesturing to the armor.

 “Yes, it’s part of my code,” he replies, looking down at the arena. “Now, the bounty.” 

“He’s one of the two princes from my home planet,” you explain. “He’s actually a god, with powers.”  

“Powers?” 

“Yeah, astral projection, shape-shifting, hypnosis, telekinesis, teleportation…” 

“Are you serious?” 

 “Yeah,” you say with a chuckle at the shock in his voice.

“How the hell are you supposed to catch someone like that?” he sighs, leaning back in his seat more. 

“Outsmart him. Take advantage of the fact he probably has no idea you’re here or that anyone would be after him.” 

“Would anyone be after him?”

“Oh gods, he’s made enemies all over the galaxy,” you retort, “I have no idea how to determine who sent you. He has a laundry list of enemies.” 

“Of course,” he grumbles.  “Just in recent years, he sabotaged his own brother’s coronation by allowing the Frost Giants to attack Asgard- our planet. Then, skipping a lot of other chaos, he led an alien attack on Earth. He was supposed to face lifetime imprisonment in the Asgardian dungeons, but he was freed to help fight when Dark Elves attacked Asgard, and he faked his death. This brings us up to speed to when I left three years ago. With everyone thinking he was dead, he returned to Asgard and removed his father, Odin, from the throne and had been ruling Asgard disguised as Odin. He was doing so for several years, before Thor- that’s his brother; Thor came back and exposed him. So that’s when I left, so if he’s done something else since, I don’t know.”

“That was the summary?”  

“That was the very abridged version,” you chuckle, “but that’s sort of the relevant bit.”

“Why did you leave?” he asks curiously, “it seems like him being exposed by Thor was a good thing but you left.” 

“Because I mourned him for years,” you say spitefully. “Told me himself while disguised as Odin that Loki was dead. Lied right to me, deceived me and the entire kingdom. We built fucking statues in his honor like idiots…” 

“You loved him,” he states simply, preventing you from spiraling. You appreciated his ability to simplify the situation. It was grounding.  

“Yes,” you say simply. 

“And you’ve been here for three years and he only just shows up now?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Asshole,” he mutters, making you laugh.  

“Indeed,” you agree.  

“You deserve better,” he affirms. 

“Then a wanted war criminal? I would hope so,” you jest.  

“No, I mean, yes, but you seem- just, never mind.”  

“Thanks.” 

“Do you still have feelings for him?” he asks, after a short, uncomfortable silence.  

“I don’t think I could even if I wanted to,” you answer honestly.  

“I understand,” he says, but he sounds like he’s far away, lost in his own thoughts.  You both fall into a more comfortable silence, when the giant hologram of the Grandmaster emerges introducing the event and the fighters. You aren’t really paying attention; you have heard it all before. The Champion will come out, the crowd will go crazy, and he’ll just defeat whatever poor soul they put up against him. However, you are snapped out of your thoughts when you hear a familiar voice yell.  

“Thor?” you say in disbelief, standing up from your seat to get a closer look. His hair was shorter but without a doubt it was him. “Shit, what happened to him?”

 “Thor, like Loki’s brother?” Mando asks, staring down at the fight, both of you at the end of your seats. You look over across the stadium, and you see a familiar figure in the Grandmaster’s private box.  

“That weasel,” you say, narrowing your eyes, to try to get a better look. It’s him. Without a doubt, it’s Loki sitting on the large couch next to the Grandmaster. “He’s right there,” you point, and Mando follows your gaze.  

“He’s watching while they send his brother to slaughter,” Mando observes and you nod. 

“I thought I couldn’t be more disgusted,” you scoff. You wanted to be surprised but how could you be? This was Loki. Gods, you had been so blind for so long. 

“What can we do?” Mando asks, already trying to look around for the exit. There are way too many people. 

“Thor has powers like Loki- not the same ones, but he’s also a god,” you say, partly to explain but also in an attempt to calm your own nerves. “He can win this.” You hear Thor proclaim that he knows the Champion and that they are friends from work, and you cover your face with your hands from the secondhand embarrassment. You silently plead for Thor to stop trying to talk and just fight his way out. Mando hesitantly wraps an arm around you. He’s stiff and awkward but you appreciate it regardless. It was comforting. “I can’t watch,” you say, hiding your face in his shoulder.  

Mando had never experienced something like this, ever. He hadn’t touched someone for this long in a very, very long time. He knew the circumstances were terrible and his heart was breaking for you. But selfishly, he basked in the feeling of intimacy, even if it was strictly platonic. Hell, he wasn’t even sure if it was platonic, because that implies a friendship. His mind was racing and he tried to ignore the warm feeling spreading throughout his body at the contact. He doesn’t dare move; he was enjoying the feeling too much.  Mando was rendered speechless as he watched the man literally conjure lightning from nothing. The fight was unlike anything he had ever seen. Of course, he’d been all over the galaxy and has seen wonders, including the little baby back in his room, but never has he seen so much power yielded all at once. He gulped, thinking about what he would be up against trying to bring in Loki. Without a doubt, he’d need to use the carbonite chamber on the Crest- but would that even hold a being of this much power? He didn’t have much else of a choice.  

The crowd erupts, booing as the Grandmaster rigs the fight in the Champion’s favor, and Mando rolls his eyes under his helmet. Of course, he thinks. However, he can tell the man is still alive and is relieved to tell you, especially since you didn’t dare look at the spectacle- too afraid to watch the fate of your friend unfold.  “He made it,” Mando said gently, nudging you and you finally turned your head back to the arena. They brought out a stretcher and the floating device brought his body off of the ground. He was breathing. “We can find out where they took him soon,” he says reassuringly. He felt compelled to help you find Thor, not just because of his own needs, but he genuinely wanted to return the favor for the intel you provided- at no charge at that.  The crowds clear out in a somewhat orderly fashion, but then take to the streets to celebrate the Grandmaster’s Champion. 

You are furious that Loki would sit by and watch as Thor was sent out on that field. You had no doubt in your mind that he knew that was happening but didn’t stop it. You knew him too well to think otherwise. Part of you a very long time ago had a hope the two could actually work as a team, and you had seen Thor try- you realize that now. However, at the time, you always defended Loki. You remain seated, even after the whole section of seats has long since been cleared. You felt numb and disgusted.  

“Any way I can help you, I’ll do it,” you say finally, your eyes fixated on the crater that was formed by the fight. You were rigid, very much pissed. You had wasted a large portion of your first year here hoping he’d come after you, and as much as you’d say you wouldn’t have taken him back, you know that you three years ago would have fallen back into his arms in a heartbeat if he had tried to come find you. Skurge knew where you had been sent. Loki could have easily gotten that information and followed you if he had wanted to. He obviously didn’t. And you have already wasted more energy than you should’ve in your lifetime by his side, defending him, mourning him, loving him. You were done. If there was any doubt of that in your mind before, the display before you tonight solidified your feelings. 

You wanted to see him get what he deserved. 

“I need you to get close to him again,” Mando says hesitantly, and you can hear the reluctance. He knows he’s asking way too much from you, but he’s desperate. It’s the only way he can think of to out smart him. He cringes, not wanting to subject you to this character again, but he feels as though he doesn’t have a choice.  You were right that Mando needed to take advantage of Loki not knowing he was here. He could operate behind the scenes while you distracted him. It was a flimsy plan at best and he was sure you would say no. He wouldn’t blame you. He saw the hurt and pain on your face, just out for the world to see. You were usually much better at hiding it, he had observed, but the events of today undeniably bothered you greatly. He felt relieved to have his helmet on. He couldn’t imagine the discipline of controlling your expressions. It was something he never needed to master, and he admired your ability to do it.  

“I’ll do it,” you sniff looking back at him. Your eyes were glossed over with tears that you were not letting fall and you still held yourself with your head high. You were trying your best to not let your emotions spill over, and he marveled at your strength.   

“You sure.” 

“Positive. I can do it. Besides, I don’t know how you’d do it without me.” 

“You’re right,” he chuckles. 

“I always am,” you joke. You wipe your eyes and stand up, both of you heading out of the stadium. “It’s probably better if we try to find Thor tomorrow,” you conclude noticing how dark it is now. Mando nods in agreement.  

“Are they immortal?” he asks hesitantly, wanting to talk to you longer.  

“No but we live a long time,” you say with a sigh, “Very slow aging process as well.” 

“How old are they?” he asks, “I mean- do you not age either?” 

“Loki and I are similar in age, Thor is older,” you explain. “I mean, I don’t know an exact age in years, but at least a thousand? Thor probably about five hundred years older or so if I had to guess.”  

“Are- are you serious?” he asks in disbelief.  

“I’m an old maid,” you chuckle.  

“You look younger than me,” he says, still in shock. 

“Asgardians have a five-thousand-year lifespan roughly,” you giggle, finding it amusing you’ve made the bounty hunter speechless. “I know I look pretty good for my age,” you joke.  

“Yeah,” he says in agreement, and he doesn’t miss the way it makes you smile. There’s a tension between the two of you that becomes glaringly more obvious, and you both chose to try your best to ignore it.  

“So, what are you?” you ask. “You and your son- what species?” 

“I’m human,” he says quickly, embarrassed at what you thought he must look like under the helmet. “He’s adopted,” he explains, and you laugh at how flustered he sounds through the modulator.  

“Are you from Earth?” 

“No, I was born on Aq Vetina,” he explains and you nod. 

“I’ve never heard of Earth.” “I thought Earth was the only place humans dwelled,” you say intrigued, “Interesting.” 

“Are you royalty?” he asks, trying to change the subject from his backstory. 

“Almost was,” you admit, “but no. I was in the Einherjar army, warriors who protected the throne.” 

“Almost?” he asks, not wanting to pry but his curiosity of wanting to get to know more about you getting the better of him.  

“Loki and I at one point were engaged,” you say, facing the ground.  

“I’m sorry,” he says quickly, “I shouldn’t be asking.” 

“No, it’s okay,” you say reassuringly, “It’s nice to talk about it after all these years. I’m enjoying having someone who’s willing to listen.” He wondered if that would be something he would want as well.  “Then he faked his death, and well,” you joke, “I would say that is the most unique way I’ve heard of to break off an engagement.” 

“I don’t think that was because of you…” 

“Oh, I know,” you reassure him, “But it clearly showed me how little he actually cared for me.” 

“He’s a fool,” he said quickly.  

“I’m afraid I’m the one who deserves that title,” you jest, trying to make the atmosphere less depressing.  

“I don’t think so,” he counters, but doesn’t expand on his statement. You nod as a silent thank you. “I need to get back to the kid,” he says, “Should I meet you tomorrow?” 

“Where are you staying?” You say, “I’ll come to you. I’m too close to the Grandmaster, and then by extension Loki- me going to you keeps you off the radar longer.” 

He gives you the name of where he’s staying and his room, actually trusting you with it. You immediately know where he is staying and you assure him you won’t have any trouble finding him. You insist you want to go find Thor alone and he respects your request. You promise to go to him after. You part ways, and you return to your apartment and him to his room. 

With the secured behind him, he picks up the child and checks on him. He felt guilty for having left him so long, but the kid had only just woken up when Mando arrived back at the room. The child was babbling and happy, and Mando fed him. His mind is still racing with thoughts of you, and how much you’ve been though.  

It almost angers him, the way that you’ve been treated and discarded. Like you were just a pawn in a chess game. The pain and sadness behind your eyes said more to him than your words had, even though he hung on to every syllable. He feels ridiculous, but part of him thinks about how he can be the one to change it. He can be the one to give you justice, by catching the man as he was sent here to do. And maybe somewhere also in the back of his mind he thinks about being the one who can truly make you happy.  

The rapport between the two of you was so seamless. He never had such an easy time talking to someone before. It’s like you just showed up out of nowhere and fell into his life and he wants you to stay in it. He thinks about if you both are successful, he somehow by some miracle is able to catch this guy, would he just part ways with you and never see you again? He hates the idea already. He knows how irrational he is being, but he allows himself to indulge in the idea of sharing things with you the same way you opened up about your past to him. He thinks about your words about how good it felt to have someone to listen, and he thinks about the urge he has to tell you everything. He thinks about finishing this job and getting off this wasteland planet and taking you away with him. He knows it would never happen. You are the closest thing he could ever encounter to a deity, and there’s no reason for you to want him.  

With the child tired out yet again, Mando closes his pod when the baby is asleep and he is now free to take off his helmet. There’s a mirror on the wall and he looks at his reflection. He sees the signs of aging on his face, something you won’t experience until long after his lifetime. You’re the most beautiful being he’s ever encountered and here he is thinking you would return the affection he has begun to feel towards you. He doesn’t believe you’re someone who cares too much about appearances, but you are used to walking among ethereal beings. He knew he would not be good enough. Maybe he had been alone too long and his mind is playing tricks on him, but he can’t forget the way he made you smile. He clung onto it and took pride in it, desperately wanting to be the cause of your smile again. 

Taglist:

@msclifford @doctoreuphoria @gloryekaterina @sassy-kassaay​

[skellebonez]

Smoke, Flasks, And Unfinished Tasks: Chapter 3

AO3 Link!

Chapter 1 Link!

Chapter 2 Link!

Summary: MK starts to realize things are a bit too familiar right now, an unspoken event is revealed, and someone else realizes other things. There is a lot to unpack.

Warnings: Mild violence and smoking at the tail end.

Chapter 3: Big Words Traveler, But Can You Back Them Up

Something felt... off. That's the only way MK could describe it. Off.

It reminded him of the Calabash when he thought about it, but was it even possible? When Jin and Yin had trapped him in that weird mechanical gourd thing they had tried to make everything perfect, barring those odd earthquakes and the glitches that his mind made excuses for ignoring at the time. Really, they were actually pretty bad at their scheme and he should have picked up on it a lot sooner. This time nothing felt perfect, however, everything felt... mostly normal.

The Monkey King kicked his butt in scheduled training and then lost matches in Monkey Mech and refused to stop until he had best out of 15. Mei and Red Son seemed to be acting like normal. No earthquakes. No glitches.

But his time in the Calabash had made him more observant of his surroundings and his mistake with Macaque had made him less trusting. The fact the weather station called for rain and it had not rained? That was just odd enough to catch his attention when the weather station hadn't messed up a forecast without someone attacking it or really messing something up, something that always got local news alerts sent to their phones and would have had Mei making fun of the poor sap who messed up by now, in the entire time he had a phone.

Something didn’t just feel off. Something was off. And just in case he was right he needed to play his cards carefully. Do something that wouldn’t raise suspicion.

“Hey, Monkey King?” He smiled, knowing that his expression was just fake enough that if the other were real he would call it in an instant. He would raise his eyebrow or ask him what was up or ask him what the look was for. “We have any snacks?”

“Yeah, bud, coming right up!” He just... smiled. Stood. Walked into the kitchen.

This was not The Great Sage Equal To Heaven.

This was not his mentor.

Well... Shit.

----------

“Wait, back up,” Mei turned from where she sat at the boat wheel. “What does that even mean?”

MK had gotten her to stop before they were nearly back to the City, feeling bad they stopped in such a poor spot for Red Son but determined to talk when they were seemingly alone. He’d played along and only grown more certain in his deduction that the person they were with was not the Monkey King. The more he paid attention the more certain he was that they weren’t on Flower Fruit Mountain either.

The mountain always smelled of four things. Flowers, peaches, dirt, and the slightest undertone of molten rock and ash from close by the Flaming Mountains. The more he tried to pick up the normal scents that would hit him they just seemed... muted, somehow. Like smelling them through a mask or like they were artificial. The rock and ash was nowhere to be found at all.

And there was more. He tried so hard to remember how he got to the mountain. Logically he knew they took a boat, they had to do that. There was a boat on the shore. But that was the first thing he remembered seeing. He could not remember the boat ride over, could not remember the walk to where they docked the boat at all, could barely remember anything past leaving Pigsy’s Noodles at all. Gaps in his memory were not an every day occurrence for him (despite Pigsy teasing him about forgetting to do his job, that was not the same thing).

The only things he knew for certain were real were Mei and Red Son. He’d almost let his anxiety get the better of him, memories of summoning monster trees with his stress being the thing that made him focus long enough to test the waters.

He knew that burying his face in their hair and smelling them was weird as hell, even given their close relationship that was pushing it way too far in comfort, but given scent was the most telling sense giving him pause he had to try once Monkey King was distracted. If it had been any other situation Mei and Red Son’s disturbed and confused faces (and the muffled “what the fuck dude” from Mei) would have been hilarious, but when he could clearly smell Mei’s tea tree shampoo mixed in with the ever present scent her bike’s motor oil he was certain she was real. He was almost certain when Red tensed up and flushed when he repeated the action, but the scent of slight burning and his overly expensive coconut oil and jasmine shampoo cemented the fact he was real as well.

He’d make up for making them uncomfortable after all this was over.

“Exactly what I said, that wasn’t Monkey King,” MK repeated, looking over the horizon at the city-scape. Still no rain. No clouds. It was half an hour until sundown. “I don’t... this is going to sound crazy... but I don’t think this is real.”

His companions looked at each other in clear concern and MK knew he would finally have to come clean. “MK, wh-”

“There’s something I never told any of you. Not even Monkey King. Just... promise you’ll listen to me?”

----------

When he finished recounting the long ago misadventure he had in Jin and Yin’s Calabash he couldn’t look Mei and Red Son in their eyes. Despite knowing he probably shouldn’t he felt guilty for keeping something that important a secret.

“Oh MK... That’s why you were so preoccupied with us not being perfect,” Mei said softly, standing to envelop her friend in a sudden hug that barely shook the boat. “I’m sorry for losing my cool with you back then.I should have known something was weird when you said that.”

A shaky breathe MK didn’t know he was holding escaped, grateful that they seemed to believe him immediately.

“No, I’m the one who should be sorry,” MK pulled away, giving Mei an awkward smile. Red Son had moved closer, and he shot him a smile as well when he placed a hand on his shoulder. “I should have told everyone when it happened, I just... I felt..” He trailed off, looking at the rainless city again. “We can unpack that later, right now we need to see if we’re really in another Calabash or if it’s something similar. If it is Jin and Yin again they’ve really stepped up their game.”

“I don’t think so...” Red Son said thoughtfully. He bit the end of his thumb nail, pacing the boat slowly in thought. “They seemed more preoccupied with just... having fun almost, last time. They didn’t seem to have an endgame past ‘capture the Monkie Kid’. What’s the end game? Why capture all three of us?”

“Yeah...” MK sighed, looking around carefully. “I dunno.. come to think of it, it all just feels different. This time it’s a lot closer and that is really scary if I’m being honest,” MK shuddered, not comfortable with how much better it was if he was really correct. “But it isn’t 100% accurate. Everything smells dull and Monkey King wasn’t picking up on things he normally would have.”

“Is that why you smelled o-”

“Unpacking later!”

“Why don’t we do what you did to get out last time?” Red Son interrupted, looking hopeful that he had solved the problem already. “We just have to find your staff.”

“Yeah that... that’s another problem...” MK bit his lip and held his hand up to his ear. The glow that lit from it illuminated the dawning horror on his friend’s faces as the staff materialized in his hand. They both seemed to regret not watching MK train that day when they realized what this meant. “That... may not work this time.”

----------

“You’re bleedin’ delusional!” The demon couldn’t help but groan out, pacing wildly in growing frustration. Before them both was a set of screens, watching the display of the trio’s conversation. The entire room looked like something right out of one of those American spy thrillers they’d seen, computers and monitors hooked up and showing a multitude of views. “I told you, you can’t just throw that many people in at once! It doesn’t matter how improved it is, it messes up, confuses the simulation! And-and you let ‘im keep the bloody staff! He’s-”

“Not getting out any time soon,” the other demon, seated comfortably in the only chair in the room, soothed. Their words were like poisoned honey and the first demon grimaced. How they let themselves be taken in by these words... they would never forgive themselves now, not after all of this. Not after what happened to- “Patience is what you and your brother lacked the first time. They don’t need to believe it, they just need to stay in it. Come now, you need to... relax.”

The first demon, the smaller demon, backed a step away as the seated one sat up straighter. They weren’t fast enough to get away from the clawed hand that gripped their throat, cutting off their air supply and pulling them far too close to the other’s face. No fight was given, they knew what would happen if they tried, and watched anxiously as the seated demon raised their forearm long smoking pipe to their lips to take a long drag on whatever foul concoction they had in it.

“Just rest Yin.” Their open mouth revealed colored smoke, sickeningly sweet and fruity smelling, swirling around inside before they loosened the grip on his throat to blow it directly into his face as he took a hasty breath of oxygen. "Perhaps you'll be more patient after a nice long nap."

The blue demon coughed when the other finally let him go, breathing deeply in the hopes he didn’t inhale as much smoke as he feared he did. As he tipped backward onto the ground he knew that was a fruitless thought. Now he laid on the ground with his head fuzzy and gaze filled with the equally unconscious visage of his elder brother.

The Gold and Silver demons... had really messed up...

[horde-princess]

A Meta on Catra’s Relationships with DT, Scorpia, and Adora

I’m so excited to write this finally ljsdflkj okay so. I’ve been thinking about why the creators would choose to center a whole season around this new character Double Trouble. They drove the plot and played a major role in a really important part of the story, Catra’s redemption. So I wanna think more about the purpose of this character and go deeper into a couple of their scenes with Catra.

tbh Catra and DT’s very first interaction says it all: DT literally takes the form of Scorpia and tells Catra “I’m about to become your new best friend.” As the season goes on, Double Trouble replaces Scorpia as a sort of artificial confidant for Catra. But it blows up in her face and the purpose of the whole thing is to shed light on Catra’s main internal conflict: her desire for love vs. her fear of heartbreak/vulnerability.

In other words, I believe Double Trouble was introduced as a foil to Scorpia. But if we think about how Scorpia is also a foil to Adora, then that means DT is like... a foil to a foil. So they’re not directly associated with Adora but a lot of what they do relates back to her. Yeah there are a lot of layers here lmao but basically what I’m gonna analyze is how Catra’s relationships with these three characters intertwine and build off each other in season 4 to set the stage for Catra’s redemption (and catradora endgame hollaaa)

So in the beginning, Catra and DT both understand their relationship to be a business arrangement. When does that start to change for Catra, and why?

Catra’s History With Betrayal

Just think about Catra’s relationships at the start of s4.. After the portal, Adora had basically severed whatever was left of their relationship, and that was shown to be weighing on Catra all season. Scorpia and Entrapta were the only other people she cared about, but Entrapta betrayed her (first by monopolizing Hordak’s attention then by refusing to open the portal), then Scorpia dared to question her decision to send their friend to die and her presence became a constant reminder of Catra’s guilt. In fact, the mere mention of Entrapta’s name in 4x03 causes Catra to snap and yell at Scorpia “we are not friends!” ... which of course isn’t true. Catra may think Scorpia’s annoying but she confided in her, her loyalty made Catra feel like she could trust her.. and that’s exactly why Catra always tried so hard to push her away. All the betrayals in her life scarred her so deeply that she wanted to avoid emotional intimacy at all costs. I’m about to get Jungian up in this shit bc we see a deep disconnect between Catra’s outward actions (her conscious) and her inner desires (subconscious) this season and it’s this i believe that leads to her breakdown in 4x10. It’s an unsustainable way to live.

Why Catra Trusted Double Trouble

So by 4x04, Catra had sabotaged her only two relationships. She was utterly alone, and vulnerable, and Double Trouble was in the right place at the right time offering their loyalty to her.. so Catra did what any emotionally stable person would do and subconsciously used a hired mercenary to try and fill the growing void in her heart. I don’t think Catra actually cared about DT much at all, like sure they got along and that matters on some level, but I think it’s more that Catra was in a vulnerable place and DT was the only one around.

So why does Catra trust Double Trouble when she won’t let herself trust anyone else? I’ve seen some posts saying it’s because Catra is self-destructive--i.e. she only seeks love from people who won’t give it to her because she doesn’t believe she deserves love--which is super true.. but I think her motivations can be better explained by saying that Catra knew from the start that Double Trouble didn’t really care about her, and that’s why the partnership was attractive to her (at first). She thought it would be safe--no vulnerability, no risk of heartbreak. But the truth is Catra’s just not as disaffected as she wishes she was.

The moment Catra really let her guard down was when Double Trouble saved her from the collapsing building in 4x04. 

can we just!! talk about this scene!!!! the way her voice shakes when she says “saving me” just, oh my god... like what a touchy subject for her, right? Shes spent her whole life resenting how Adora was always trying to “save” her from everything. I’m not sure but I think White Out (2x05) was the only other time Catra thanked someone for saving her life, and she just says “thanks for getting us out of there.” So her use of the word “save” here is special and it illustrates how deeply vulnerable Catra feels this season, and more importantly it’s a sign of character development! It’s no coincidence that the theme of saving is connected between DT, Scorpia, and Adora. It’s leading up to Catra learning to replace her resentment towards Adora with something closer to gratitude. 

But while the scene connects these relationships, it also highlights their differences. After Catra displays an astounding amount of vulnerability with DT, they coolly reply “well, I live to serve... for a price, of course.”

This right here is the first step of Catra’s breakdown. Suppressed desires making themselves known, one half of her heart rebelling against the other. She was pushing away her real friends and finding hollow companionship with someone she thought she wouldn’t get attached to, but it happened anyway.

The difference between Double Trouble and Scorpia must have become glaringly obvious to Catra in that moment. Whereas Scorpia was loyal to Catra out of love, DT was mostly interested in getting paid. And she was surprised by how much that hurt. She fucking hated how much it hurt, you can see it written all over her face. It’s why she fails Scorpia’s little test in 4x06. Because of Double Trouble, Catra’s true desires were threatening to break free, so outwardly she fights against it and acts more resistant than ever to being friends with Scorpia. She castigates her, calls her annoying and incompetent, harsher than we’ve ever seen... but she didn’t expect Scorpia to hit back (we did, tho. Scorpia’s an icon).

In four words Scorpia teaches Catra a hard lesson about what it means to earn someone’s loyalty. She knew she must’ve really fucked up if she somehow managed to push away the most loyal person in all of Etheria. And again the fake nature of Catra’s relationship with Double Trouble provides a reference for her to see why Scorpia’s loyalty, based in love, was so valuable, and why she shouldn’t have taken it for granted. It also relates to Adora because, similar to Scorpia, Adora had been trying so hard these past 3 seasons to connect with Catra, but she refused to forgive her and her behavior eventually forced Adora to cut ties. So Scorpia calling her out pushes Catra towards accepting some personal responsibility for everything that happened with Adora, too. Man there are just.. a ton of implications here.

Then Catra gives Hordak a fun pep talk but really it’s just her self-projecting all over him:

At this point her hateful actions and her goal to conquer Etheria are extremely out of line with her true desires and we can see it’s really affecting her mental state. It wasn’t just one thing or person that caused her breakdown, it was a combination of Adora severing their relationship, and Scorpia’s disappointment in her, and Double Trouble’s indifference towards her. All three of these situations were playing off each other and chipping away at Catra’s carefully crafted armor, revealing a desire to be loved hidden underneath... which she continued to fight against for as long as she could. Adora and Scorpia were playing their roles in helping Catra learn to take responsibility for her life, but those relationships wouldn’t have been so effective had it not been for how they were contrasted with Double Trouble’s indifference. Anyway have I mentioned how amazing and complex this show is????

Catra Loses DT and Scorpia Around the Same Time

4x07 is the last time Catra talks to Double Trouble before they get captured by the rebels. Coincidentally, Catra realizes that Scorpia left her just one episode later, which once again points to a connection between these two characters. From 4x08 to 4x11 Catra is completely alone, feeling like she has lost everyone in her life. It sets the stage for her meltdown in 4x10. But my fave part about Scorpia leaving is how it changes the way Catra thinks about betrayal. 

Even if Scorpia didn’t tell Catra where she was going in the note she left, Catra had to have assumed she was leaving to join the Rebellion because where else would she have gone right? So the two people Catra loves most have now BOTH abandoned her to join the rebellion. I don’t even wanna think about how triggering that betrayal must have been for Catra.. I don’t wanna think about how the next time Catra sees Scorpia she’s going to be a full blown princess with powers and everything, just like what happened with Adora. 

But there’s a key difference between Adora and Scorpia. Catra knows at this point that Adora didn’t want to leave her behind, but she did anyway to pursue some destiny that Catra wasn’t a part of, which left her feeling betrayed. Scorpia, on the other hand--the very definition of ‘loyalty’--left her specifically because Catra pushed her away. Her fear of vulnerability manifested as anger towards someone she refused to admit that she cared about, and it pushed her away.

Once again I think Scorpia is teaching Catra a lesson about taking responsibility for some of the shit in her life. It’s a privilege that Adora lost after being careless with Catra’s trust, and thus Scorpia was the only one in a position to reach Catra and help her. But I think that the things Catra learned from Scorpia are going to play back into her relationship with Adora and allow them to reconcile (when Adora deals with her own issues too).

We can also say a little about how Double Trouble’s betrayal contrasts with Scorpia’s and Adora’s. I think their complete emotional detachment is the perfect frame of reference for Catra to be able to acknowledge that even though Scorpia and Adora left her, they DID love her, and they never stopped trying to reach out to her--at least, not until Catra crossed a line with both of them. At some point, Catra went from being justified in her feelings of betrayal to overdoing it, placing too much blame where it didn’t belong and closing the door to forgiveness. So I think that’s the role that Double Trouble played there, helping Catra see that difference. Like even if someone leaves you, hurts you, it doesn’t always mean they don’t love you. Relationships take work and understanding and forgiveness and you have to learn how to handle that or you’ll always be alone. Scorpia’s the pure embodiment of that lesson, and she’s lighting the way for Catra to navigate the much more nebulous waters of her grudge against Adora.

Double Trouble’s Betrayal

So now Catra is feeling abandoned by Scorpia and Double Trouble (her only friends) and we see the disconnect between what’s in her heart and the front she’s been putting on come to a head in 4x10 when she has that meltdown. She’s kind of losing it because her fear and heartbreak are driving her down a path that she doesn’t actually want. It’s like watching a car crash in slow motion. In 4x12 she continues to hold on desperately to the idea that beating Adora will make her happy, because at this point she doesn’t see any way to turn the car around.

There’s an absolutely fantastic scene early in 4x12 that sets up Double Trouble’s betrayal beautifully, like really it’s a masterpiece. Catra’s childhood friends walk in on her in the locker room and they’re laughing and joking around and for a second it’s like... Catra longs to be a part of that again.. To have friends, to be happy. But then Kyle accidentally kicks one of Scorpia’s old doodles (a painful reminder that she’s gone) and Catra freaks out and attacks them. Kyle’s like “we used to be friends, why are you treating us like this?” So she lets them leave, feeling alone and miserable, and THAT’S when Double Trouble waltzes in... having had just made a deal with Glimmer to double cross Catra.

God it hurts so much. The contrast between her pushing away Scorpia and her real friends, and then her childlike relief upon seeing the person who just sold her out.

This scene gives me fucking chills with the nightmare-ish music and everything.. It’s like, at this point DT is just fucking with her, they’ve already got Catra figured out. This face touch is so cruel and fits with the show’s motif of manipulative affection, too. For me it felt very disconcerting to see Catra like this... unaware that she’s been defeated yet she’s so emotionally vulnerable here, she’s like putty in Double Trouble’s hands. Scorpia leaving cracked her open and, as they’re the last person left standing with Catra’s trust, Double Trouble’s in the perfect position to come in and break her.

So the next episode 4x13 has that crazy scene where Double Trouble totally obliterates Catra and I’m not even gonna talk about it lmao because yall have already done a great job analyzing it. But I do wanna draw attention to the fact that this is the only thing she says in this whole scene:

Can you believe that’s what mattered the most to her in that moment? Not that literally everything she had been working for for the past 4 seasons had just turned to dust before her eyes, but the fact that this random mercenary she hired betrayed her. And there was no anger at all, just... heartbreak.

And then look at what she says to Glimmer afterwards (setting aside the fact that Catra is basically giving up on life...) she says nothing about the war, nothing about winning or revenge. The only thing she’s thinking about is how lonely she feels.

So by the end of Season 4, I think Catra did finally figure out what she truly wanted in life. She didn’t want to be on top just for power’s sake, she wanted people to respect her, to love her, so that no one could hurt her anymore. But she was so obsessed with winning that she ended up losing everyone’s respect. Wow haha if only she could get a second chance to earn it back the right way.... like say if, idk, she was trapped in space jail and forced to team up with her sworn enemy to survive and they came out best friends or something <:)

To sum up, Double Trouble’s role in Season 4 was to break Catra’s mask and force her to consider what she truly wants. I think their betrayal taught Catra to really appreciate what a terrible mistake she made in pushing Scorpia and Adora away. It taught her the difference between someone leaving her because they don’t care about her, and someone cutting ties with her even though they do care for her very deeply, they just couldn’t take Catra treating them like crap anymore. It showed her that what Adora did was nothing like what DT did. That’s what a betrayal feels like when the person doesn’t care about you. Someone who doesn’t care about you isn’t going to beg for your forgiveness for 3 seasons and risk being obliterated from existence just to get you back.

But the real beauty of season 4 was how Catra hitting rock bottom had almost nothing to do with Adora. With the help of other friends Catra has begun to find her own reasons to change, she’s acknowledging her guilt and heartbreak and discovering the person she wants to become. She’s learning to take responsibility instead of just blaming other people. And this character development had nothing to do with romance, just like how Adora breaking free of her destiny and learning to let go of control had little to do with Catra. I love the different perspectives on love that they give us with Catra, Adora, and Scorpia. I love how this show takes the “love conquers all” trope and subverts it, saying that sometimes.. love breaks you. Sometimes it’s not enough. Sometimes it’s used as a weapon. Sometimes you have to let go of people you love, but it opens up space for you to figure out who you are and what you want and to conquer your own demons. You’ll come out the other side with a better understanding of what real, healthy love is supposed to look like. And maybe in the end, the love you always sought will find you again, in its own time, in its own way. 💘

[alias-b]

sins of my youth. 009

Billy Hargrove x OC! Evie Fenny~ Also posted to my AO3

Summary: It was common knowledge that Billy Hargrove hated Hawkins. Hated Cherry Lane. Even loathed the strange girl next door. Evie Fenny wasn’t too fond of the chaotic Cali transfer either. An awful high school tradition sparks a chain of events that changes everything, ultimately bringing two frayed souls together.

A/N: Making some good headway with this fic so new chapter!! Revenge is a dish best served cold. Forgiveness is warm. Billy and Evie make some more progress. LONG chp! Enjoy!! TW: Student/teacher relationship. Sexual refs. Abuse warning. Gaslighting.

TAGLIST OPEN!! Chat with me about this couple :))

Chapter 9: Everything Is Blue

   “How much did she want?” Heather asked, crossing into the bedroom with a giant bowl of popcorn.

   “She heard my voice and said she’d do it for free after Billy gave her two hundred that night. I think we should still give her something.” Evie was sitting on Heather’s bed so her friend joined. Billy leaned back in the desk chair across the way, eyes flickering all over Heather's royal bedchamber.

   “Told you I gave the money away.” He muttered.

   “Where did the rest go? You got three hundred.” Popcorn crunched.

   He looked down with this somber shrug.

   “I gave Brock’s date a ride home. She was waiting for a taxi and, I don’t know, she looked scared.”

   “His fourteen year old date.” Evie remarked. Poor girl. Probably took her just because he could get away with it.

   “What!” Heather almost dropped the entire bowl. “What a disgusting-”

   “Yeah.” Evie shook her head.

   “I gave her the rest, felt like shit.” Billy finished, eyes meeting Evie’s when he looked up. She peered aside in a flash.

   “So, Brock goes to church every Sunday if you can believe it with his parents and girlfriend. Her folks too since her dad’s the pastor. Usually gets out just after noon. People linger outside, you know, to catch up. I think that’s when you want to move in on the guy. Right in front of everyone before he can run off with his dick friends.” Heather offered the bowl to Evie so she could munch on some.

   “It’ll work. Bubbles was all too excited to play actress.” Evie smiled, cocking her head so Billy would cross to eat with them. He sat on the end of the bed. Peeked at Heather before grabbing some popcorn. 

   “Tommy didn’t question why I asked for her number, he’s not a fan of Brock either anymore.” Billy licked his thumb. “Apparently, they figured he paid her and he got disqualified last minute. He gave Bubbles thirty just to show up so he’s broke now.”

   “Tommy and Carol hate what you hate.” Heather rolled her eyes.

   “That too.” Billy gestured and grabbed more popcorn, chewing. Weird to be sitting around like they were something close to friends. Revenge brought people together. 

   “If he sees us, he’ll know something’s up.” Evie spoke. “I don’t think Tannen sticks around after church though. Maybe we need someone in his circle to distract him long enough for Bubbles to make her move once everyone is out in the open. He’ll definitely run the second he sees her show up. She told me the outfit she was going to wear. Whew, it’ll be something.” 

   “Might be weird if I show up. I mean, our parents run in the same groups and they get along...but I make it obvious I hate him.”

   “Turn him down a lot?” Billy pulled at his tee.

   “Once a week, at least.” Heather reclined to think.

   “Who else do we know that’s rich and unsuspecting?” Evie set the bowl aside, glancing around at Heather’s walls covered in cut out magazines. They looked at each at the same time.

   “I got it!” 

   Both girls peered at Billy’s confused face before he appeared disgusted.

   “Oh, no. Not him.”

   “Time for you two to suck it up and get along.” Evie got up to grab Heather’s phone. “I think I remember his number.”

   “...How’s that?” Billy's interest piqued.

   “He’s been a gentleman and giving Evie rides to school when I can’t.” Heather saw Billy’s brow twitch at that. Smiled wider.

   “Steve, hey.” Evie said into the phone. “Sorry, I’m calling from Heather's. I wanted to ask a favor, can you meet us here at her place?” A beat before she laughed. “Yeah, it's top secret.” Evie bit her lip and Billy huffed to himself. “Sure, see you in five.”

   She hung up.

   “On the way.”

   “I’m still hungry, let’s order Chinese." Heather perked up. "I know what you like, Eve. Billy will get what I order and like it."

   "Yes, ma'am."

   "Be back. My folks left money on the fridge.” She sat up to go. "We'll feast. It's a possible last supper."

   “Extra spicy, please.” Evie grinned as Heather walked out. Leaving her and Billy alone there. Slowly, she came back to sit on the bed. “So.”

   “You seem more excited about the revenge than I am now.” He leaned in to catch her eyes. 

   “Might be nice to see that asshole fall apart for ten seconds.” She shrugged, legs crossing to settle her hands in her lap.

   “Hey,” Billy uttered even softer, one leg on the bed, “you’re still here with me.”

   Eyes panned to meet.

   “I am.” Evie almost seemed to realize it too.

   “Why’s that?” A dry curl fell into his face. Billy searched her and Evie didn’t peer away.

   “Already told you, my calendar’s open too.” Evie looked fluttered at him. Thought of confetti falling when Billy curved toward her. One hand pressed on the bed and Evie turned her head last minute. 

   “Hey, he got here quick. Food’s on the...way.” Heather paused with Steve Harrington behind her. Billy and Evie shot back from each other.

   “Him?” Steve had flared, pushing his initial confusion aside. “Hell no.”

   “Round two, Harrington?” Billy stood up. Revved.

   “I am not sitting in a room with this asshole.” Steve shot back.

   “Easy, easy. Let us explain.” Heather touched Steve’s chest.

   Explaining didn’t help because Steve pounced on Billy before they’d even gotten to the revenge part. Knocked the broad boy off the bed into the carpet.

   “Man, you’re sick!”

   Billy was snarling under him. Not actually moving to hit back when Steve’s fist cocked.

   “Stop it!” Evie grabbed Steve’s arm to pull him off. “Hey! We’re here to get Tannen back! Steve!” 

   He paused to look at her. Straddling Billy with one hand clutching his tee. Got shoved off. Heather rushed to pull Steve up with Evie. Billy stumbled backwards to his feet after.

   “Trying to make it right.” He heaved out, palm smoothing his shirt.

   “I spent a night in the fucking hospital because of you,” Steve seethed, “but bringing Evie into that shit? You had no right.”

   “Not asking for forgiveness, I’m just-”

   “You should be on your fucking knees begging her for it!” Steve burst out. Evie touched his shoulder again.

   “Look, I haven’t...forgiven it."

   "No, he's right. Evie." Billy sunk to his knees. The saturated colors of him glimmering there. Evie's brow jumped as he grabbed her hand. "I'm on my knees in front of Heather...and Heather's acquaintance."

   Steve went flat.

   "Asking forgiveness. I haven't earned it, but I'll stay here and beg for it." Billy's low baritone shook her knees. Big, bright eyes that melted her down. "Please, Evangeline."

   "Jesus Christ." Steve's arms crossed, eyes rolling. Heather snickered to herself and Evie gave that usual scrunching look. The one that made Billy smile.

   "Easy, boy. On your feet."

   "As you wish." A smirk danced and Billy rose. Evie had to take a breath and compose herself, turning aside. Billy still had her hand so she snatched it to function again. 

   "I’m not letting him off. But, Tannen manipulated us both and I see that. I’m doing this for the other girls, he needs to be taken down a peg. Ignore Billy and his camp while we do this.” Evie reasoned, meeting Steve's eyes. Shoulders falling. “You can help us get him back.”

   Steve looked between her and Billy.

   “Okay.” He sighed. “Okay. I’ll help you out. What did you need me to do?”

   “We might need some of that Keg King flare back.” Evie nudged him.

   Steve laughed at that. A small sound as he scratched the back of his head.

   “Might be able to fake it.”

** ** **

   A plan was set. Strange still to be sitting around a diner table the next day with this group. Drinking cold beverages in the winter. Almost friends. Big question mark. Unlikely allies. Heather drove them out because her car was the least suspecting. 

   “How’re we doing on time?” Evie leaned over to see Billy’s wrist. Sipped a chocolate milkshake because she had a craving and plucked the shiny cherry up to put it between her teeth.

   He was too busy watching that to tell time. Her tongue sliding over the juicy, artificial red of the fruit before she plucked the stem to chew.

   “Hey, I’m just gonna guess that’s your friend.” Steve cocked his perfectly styled head in the direction of the window. Bubbles lingered there, unsure if she should come in. Coat pulled close over her dress and tights. Heavy makeup illuminated her entire face. Evie hopped up with a smile.

   “Just in time.” She clicked out to grab the older woman’s hand and pull her inside. “I ordered you some fries, wanted you to eat something.” A basket full of hot gold was set down. Billy scooted over a chair so Bubbles could sit, smashing her cigarette out. 

   “You brought a cute friend, sweetie pie.” Came the happy rasp.

   Billy lifted his head to beam and sunk when he saw her instead pinching Steve’s cheeks pink. Heather covered her lips giggling, but Steve liked it because for once, Billy wasn’t getting the attention.

   “So, you wanna get this guy bad, huh?” Bubbles was reaching for the ketchup to feed herself. “Least Tommy was nice to me, not handsy like the others there.”

   “Brock’s reputation is everything. We embarrass him in front of his people, that’ll burn. Really play it up.” Evie crossed her arms over the table.

   “Oh, I know exactly what to do. Gimme a ring if it works. We’ll all want to disappear quick after. My car’s around back. Seemed like a fun gig. I always wanted to be an actress.” Bubbles gestured with a fry and bit into it. 

   “Here’s for helping us. Means a lot strangely.” Heather offered a couple bills.

   “I like you kids. Sticking it to the man as they say.” A shrug followed. “I saw that man’s date. She looked like my daughter. We don’t speak anymore. Happy to help knock an asshole off the saddle.” 

   “Tannen’s eighteenth birthday was last week. They had this massive party at his dad’s biggest casino. Glad my parents already had plans or they would have made an appearance.” Heather made a face. “His girlfriend’s sweet, maybe she’ll dump his ass finally.”

   “Almost showtime,” Steve perked, “look across the street.”

   Bodies in their Sunday best. Rich folk meandering around the front doors. Expensive cars crossing.

   “You’re up, Steve. Go bump into an old rival. Shoot the shit.” Evie gestured. “Bubbles will follow your cue. Get out of there once she’s close.”

   “I hope your boy is ready for this.” Bubbles stood while Steve chuckled on the way out, fluffing his hair. Her bracelets and necklaces clicked together. Hands adjusting her bra crudely. A wink and she strutted out too.

   “Let’s get better seats, ladies.” Billy lit a quick cigarette. Made his way out before Heather swiped it to puff too. Billy didn’t fight her on that. Evie trailed behind them. Eyes on the pastel crowds. Men in khaki and women playing a game of ‘my obnoxiously decorated hat is better than yours.

   Frozen streets that made the bright colors even more annoying.

   The trio hid around a building across the way. Leaning into a fire escape. Saw Steve swaggering like he was out for a Sunday stroll in the rich area of this town.

   “Hey, Tannen, that you? Long time no see, man.” Steve cocked his head to flash that winning smile.

   Brock covered his disinterest with one that matched.

   “Stevie boy. Didn’t know you still hung around these parts.”

   “Where else would I get my hair products?” Fingers swept his voluminous mane.

   “Not like Hawkins has a lot to offer, I guess. I hear they’re building a fancy mall.”

   “Should give us something to do this summer.” Steve shrugged.

   “I missed my shot at you in those last few games.” Brock’s arms crossed. He touched his chest where the silver charm used to sit.

   “Ah, yeah. Wasn’t for me anymore.” Steve’s brow quirked. Tannen’s girlfriend and his parents weren’t far behind. Making nice with the pastor. 

   “Hargrove said something similar. True about you guys?”

   “Yeah, I heard some wild stuff about you though. Some tiff the football players like to reenact with that girl. Pretty one. You on the floor wailing, the details escaped me.” Steve laughed for effect and Brock joined him. Artificial overlapping sounds. “Well, so great to catch up.”

   “Say hi to your old man for us. I know he’s busy with work and his secretary.” Brock’s lips lifted in an empty fashion. “Love to catch up with the folks. Especially when those college letters come in. We’ll be having a party or two to celebrate me getting into Stanford. Where all did you apply again?”

   Steve’s smile faltered.

   “Pshh. So many places.” Steve patted his back. “See you around, man. I’ll let our football team know I ran into you. You're their favorite subject.”

   “Right.” Brock narrowed as Steve went around him. Tried to puff his chest out and intimidate. "Yeah, why don't you make like a tree, and get out of here?"

   Steve hitched this breathless laugh and caught himself. Jesus fucking Christ. Instead he winked with a finger gun.

   "I'm gonna do just that, Tannen. Don't ever change, ya hear?"

   He went into the crowd, leaving Brock to feel great about himself.

   The prick didn’t hear the peppy clicking.

   Ruby red curtains parted somewhere. An overture bloomed. Show time.

   “Brock, baby! It is you? Hey-a, honey pie.” Bubbles opened her animal print jacket to flash a bright pink ruched mini dress. “You didn’t forget about me, did ja? I can barely walk.”

   She grabbed his face in front of everyone. Smacked a Barbie pink kiss into his mouth. Moaned. 

   “Oh, baby, I had such a great time last night. You’re an animal.”

   Across the way, Evie was leaning into Heather to laugh. Barely able to stay upright. Brock reached into his mouth and pulled a wad of chewing gum out.

   He hadn’t been chewing it a moment ago.

   Frantic hands wiped his lips off.

   “Evie, your new friend is my hero.” Heather cackled. Smacking at Steve’s chest when he appeared behind them. Bubbles was talking animatedly. Clinging as Brock tried to push her off and explain to his family behind him. 

   “Oh, his girlfriend’s about to blow. Look at her face. I feel almost bad now.” Evie shifted back to touch Billy’s arm. Blue eyes turned to see her nails. Painted a fresh rose red.

   As if he felt it, Brock’s head snapped in their direction.

   They all ducked behind a dumpster. Evie pressed into Billy’s side.

   “He see us?” Heather muttered.

   A commotion built as Bubbles flashed her wiles and clicked off. Practically skipping. Leaving Brock in a pastel lion’s den. Jesus himself wasn’t coming to save him. 

   “Don’t feel bad. It’s open season and Tannen’s not winter surviving material.” Billy remarked, peeking again. "Look at their parents. Fuck."

   “We should jet, this guy’s about to explode.” Steve pulled them to stay down and race toward the other end of the alleyway. “The gum was genius.”

   “I think his mom fainted into the pastor.” Heather laughed, unlocking her car.

   “Let’s get out of here.” Evie stole the passenger seat, leaving Steve and Billy to glare at each other in back. “Let’s see him explain his way out of that.” She waved to Bubbles appearing down the block.

   “You guys want to hit up a movie or something? There’s no way I’m going to sit at home after that.” Heather turned the key so they could go. Evie looked around. Smiled genuinely.

   “Actually, that sounds great. I’d kill for some sour patch kids.” She was mid turn to see the boys before Steve jumped to attention. Eyes wide at something beyond the front windshield.

   “Guys! Problem.” He reeled to point. A sleek black car screeched around the corner. Not bothered by the cold in his fury, Brock clicked the roof to come down and stood. Shouted something unintelligible.

   “Ah, shit. Heather, go!” Evie gestured until their little silver car skidded to turn down the street. “Drive.” There was some yelling in the backseat as Billy was tossed into Steve. Having not put his seat belt on.

   “Ack, get off me, you damn brick...” Steve shoved the puffing boy away. Forced Billy into the seat and pulled his belt over. Got smacked off so Billy could click it in. 

   “He’s following, Heather!”

   “I’m trying! I’m not prepared for a race today.” She peeled out through an alley back to the road. “I’m not getting pulled over for this asshole!” Her cheeks flushed red like a pair of cherries. Whipping around the next corner with Tannen in hot pursuit, probably freezing because his roof was still down.

   “Hey, hey, there!” Billy leaned in to grasp Heather’s seat.

   “I’m not gonna make that.” Heather panicked at a soil truck backing up toward a garden being constructed. Ready to block the way.

   “Wanna bet? Punch it.” He gripped tight as Heather’s poor car revved forth. Weaving between vehicles and behind the beeping truck. Evie idly grabbed Billy’s arm turning to see Brock on their tail. 

   No way he was going to make it.

   Heather hit the brake to stop at the next red light. They all whirled to see him. Chickening out, Tannen’s car swerved to a hard stop. Bumming into the back of a rickety truck on its side. Scratching paint and denting metal in.

   “Holy shit.” Steve gasped out. "Are we dead?"

   Brock was still raging at them when the back of the truck burst open. Sending a pile of filth into his open expensive car. Billy about howled. The upset teen was buried until he had to spit it out of his mouth. Profanities whirling as the driver came around to scold him aimlessly.

   “That's...manure…” Evie realized. More laughter echoed through the car. Heather turned back to follow traffic off. “We are dead, aren't we?”

   “We’ll just look out for the jerk. He’s got brain cells in the negative.” Heather had replied, reaching to turn her Madonna tape on. Billy sat back with a groan.

   “Oh, I love this one.” Steve spoke over him, earning a look. "With Brock in deep shit...literally, his dad will be on him. The team's gonna love this one."

   They drove from the city. Left Brock Tannen to stew in his own mess.

   “Did you see his face when he pulled that gum from his mouth?” Evie chattered still. “His parents are gonna have him on lock down. No credit cards. No dates. Nothing. It's beautiful.”

   “You're hot when you’re plotting someone’s downfall and reaping the benefits.” Billy scooted to lean between the seats.

   “Ugh, sit back.” Heather grimaced, switching lanes. Billy peered at Evie’s profile and reclined. “Movie offer is off, we almost died.”

   “You guys think Tannen is scrubbing himself of shit right now?” Steve piped up. Billy actually gave a snort at his rival. Faces went flat as they glanced at each other.

   “Might as well throw the damn car away.” He’d added. Steve smirked a little and stifled it. This is the guy who busted his face open a couple months ago.

   “Probably trying to explain himself as we speak. I hope he likes being single.” Evie played with the zipper on her jacket. “Four of us didn’t make a half bad team.”

   “Admit it, I’m growing on you. I pressed you into this, Angel.” Billy got sly. Stared and knew she felt his eyes. Another laugh with an inch of sarcasm.

   “Hard pass. I'm the evil genius here.”

** ** **

   Word spread about Brock Tannen’s mishap in front of the holy father. His retaliation hadn’t come, being in trouble with his rich parents. No one knew about the four who kick started it. But, the legend would live on.

   Evie had more glowing news. She’d made it two weeks without eating foreign objects. There wasn’t an empty feeling, not yet.

   Maybe it was an odd phase. And she could stop.

   Because she was in control and could stop whenever she wanted. This wasn't a problem.

   February started off even colder than January. All the snow that melted was back with a vengeance. Even the ponds and lakes in the area froze over. Stilled in wait.

   “Your 18th birthday is at the end of this month.” Fredrick spoke while he set a plate down. Cheese and mushroom pasta. Evie thanked him quietly. Bowers seemed happier about the upcoming festivities than she did.

   “Mom’s already planning a surprise party I’m not supposed to know about.” A giggle followed. Secret date Friday night, first day of the welcomed midwinter break. Evie wore a pretty dress with something lace underneath.

   “I just wondered if you considered your options.” He even poured her white wine. Tall glass.

   “Options?” A fire crackled in the living room. Hard sounds she felt in her bones somehow.

   “You and I.” Fredrick went on. “If you wanted to go. Start our lives that we talked about. These dreams we had for months, we talked and now...it just feels so close.” 

   Evie almost dropped her fork. Saw his eyes dip to see.

   “Sorry, it’s sudden. Ah, I can’t drop out of high school, you know. Didn’t we always talk about how important my education was?” She paused quicker. “But, I thought about it. Us.”

   That was a lie. Not while Billy Hargrove was batting his lashes at her locker every day. Snapping at anyone who dared to speak down to her. Groveling. Joking like they might be friends. Flirting endlessly. Billy and those iridescent eyes ruining her with their glitter.

   This game they played where she hid smiles until he walked away.

   “No, you're right. It was foolish that I even pressed it. I shouldn’t hope for you to…ah, well.” He only smiled. “This summer. I could relocate and you could come with me. You'd like to get away, wouldn't you?”

   “My mom and I have all these plans to get my music out.”

   “You can still sing your songs with me, Evie. You know, your mother wouldn’t understand us if you came with me. I think it would be best for some distance. She’d have time to come around to the idea. Understand that you're happy with me. You are happy with me, aren't you?”

   "Of course, I am. You put me back together."

   Bowers loved that and sipped some wine. Evie stared at her plate and felt something well that took her appetite away.

   “I love you," he professed, "I will marry you. Do this right. But, I’ve waited quite a long time, Evie. I hope you understand that.”

   She brought her hand up to her cheek in a motion like she was comforting a baby. Something she'd picked up since eating these things she shouldn't have.

   “I do. I…”

   “And you’re always saying your mother doesn’t understand. She keeps things from you. I just hate to see her hurting you. Neglecting you. You deserve so much better.” Fredrick shook his head. Sighed like it was truly unfortunate.

   Poor Evie with no one. No one, but him.

   “She tries, she’s just hurting after the divorce. She’s not good at…”

   "It feels like she doesn't even want you some days, isn't that what you said?"

   "I was just mad at her over it all. We don't really fight." Her protest came out weak.

   “Your father can’t even be bothered to call his amazing daughter. Can’t man up and explain. It breaks my heart.”

   “My dad...loves me.” Evie said a little snippier than intended. Trying to convince herself too. Jack Fenny was always holding her. Kissing her forehead and rubbing her back. Protecting her from thunder storms. Evie sighed and blurted something else. “I kissed someone else.”

   “What?” Bowers paused, lowering his fork.

   “A boy. Well, he kissed me.”

   “I didn’t think you were that kind of girl.” Fredrick offered that sweetly.

   “He’s been a real jerk and I think he was just playing with me. But, now I think he was really trying to make it up to me."

   "He forced you?"

   "No, I kissed back and I didn’t tell you because it didn’t mean anything. It didn't.” She told herself that once a day thinking about it.

   Billy’s moans into ruby gemstone lips. His hands under her shirt. Hot.

   “Evie. It’s fine. You’re allowed to have those teenage experiences. Frankly, I’ve told you to be open. It’ll help us go unnoticed.” A beat. “Did you sleep with this person?”

   “No."

   "Do you want to?"

   "No! Never.” She laughed, eyes elsewhere as if she’d also never thought of it.

   As if she didn't think about Billy's fingers and his tongue and how he'd devour her. How he'd spell the word Angel between her spread thighs.

   How wet it made her to consider it while she sat at the table with the god damn teacher she was fucking.

   “I won’t be upset if you do.” Fredrick caught her eyes again. The pupils blew.

   “No, I’m with you. It’s you and I. Like we planned.” She shook her head. A grin followed Fredrick’s lips. Pride. “We can talk about summer, I just think…we should do it carefully.”

   “You’re right. I won’t push you. Can’t blame me for wanting you, Evie. You're like a drug.” His tone was more so unsettling.

   She blushed there. Drank her full glass of wine down. Head spinning. Stood to cross and plucked up his glass to down it too. Fredrick watched. Pleased. Enchanted.

   Then, she leaned down to kiss him. Hands on his face. Edging into his lap to tug so he'd take her to bed.

   Bowers forgot his meal was there. Got up still kissing her to lead them off.

   "I want you to fuck me." She asked like a grown woman. Lashes fluttering and flushed from the wine sloshing in her belly. His thumb pushed into her teeth. Faces close.

   "Really asking for it, huh?"

   One hard shove sent her into the bed. Evie felt drunk finally, wobbling to turn with her fingers smoothing over the cotton blankets. A neutral expression crossed her face. Eyes drew to an decorative plant in the corner.

   It badly needed water. Once shiny green leaves drooped a dry brown. Poor thing.

   Evie couldn't stop thinking about it.

   Poor thing.

   Weight shifted and he was over her. Whispering naughty things.

   His shadow stretched until she was lost to it.

** ** **

   Evie was home just before dark. Sore and holding her coat close. Walking down Cherry Lane, a car hood smacked shut. Billy peered up at her there, wiping his deft hands on a rag.

   “Too cold to be working on your car.”

   “My baby gets what she needs when she needs it.” He winked, tongue sweeping. Eyes scanned her outfit and this empty expression crossed. “Don’t need to ask where you’ve been.”

   “No, you don’t.” Evie crossed her arms tighter until her coat sleeves rode up along her wrists. Watched Billy pull his cigarettes out to light one. Smoke puffed and he narrowed on her again.

   “The fuck is that?” Billy was crossing, jerking Evie’s arm out to pull the sleeve down before she could react. A chill seeped. Violet and rose flower petal like bruises on her forearm and wrists. Splotchy and discolored already. “He do that to you?”

   “I didn’t even notice it.” She yanked away. “It’s nothing.”

   “Gets rough in the sack. Trying new things because he has a bouncy, cool girl. Or one who acts the part. It's not you, Evie.” Billy inhaled to flick his ashes.

   She didn’t move. Just stared at his eyes. Wondered if Billy thought less of her. She hoped he didn't.

   “Plenty of people like it rough.” Evie scoffed. “He worries about me when I leave.”

   “He worries you might spill the truth to someone. Grabs to make the point. And it sticks long after. Literally.”

   Evie blinked. Went around him.

   “See you later.”

   “You bet.” Billy turned and watched her before leaning against his car. Evie snuck in and heard her mother’s chattering into the phone. More ice up her spine with the low tone.

   “Yes, I got it. I don’t want your money, Jack. I told you. Leave us alone.”

   “Mom?” Evie gasped it, hurrying into the kitchen to see her mother slam the phone down. Crumbing a letter in her dainty fingers. “Was that dad?”

   “No, baby, just calling your aunts to let them know I’m headed out.”

   “But, I heard you. I heard you say his name.” Evie pressed. “Did he ask to talk to me?”

   “Evie, it was nothing, baby.” Mona hurried around her to toss the envelope into the fire. “Make sure this goes out before you go to sleep tonight. I left money on the fridge and we’re stocked up for the week. Salon will be fine and call if they think they need some extra hands.”

   “Mom, I know that was dad. Why are you lying to me?”

   “Evie, I’m not going to discuss this. I’m already late to the airport. My taxi’s pulling up.”

   “No! Tell me the truth. What’s going on?” Evie had her mother’s luggage so Mona pulled for it. Yanking her daughter to the door. “Mom!” She hated that tears burned her eyes. “Stop lying to me! What’s going on with dad?”

   “He doesn’t want us, Evie!” Mona huffed like it truly pained. And it did. “We just have to be fine with that. Sometimes, the Lord tests us. We endure.”

   “So, we just don’t talk about it?” Evie tugged again. Flaring up. "We don't talk about anything that isn't pretty!"

   “Your daddy was a godless man!" Mona burst. "I won’t let him hurt you ever again.”

   “Again?”

   “Evie, I’m late, baby, I love you. Don’t do this.” Mona pulled her bag free and grabbed her coat. Clicking down the stairs.

   “My father loves me!” Evie called after her, stepping onto the porch. Mona’s shoulder rose as she crossed down and ignored it. Got into the taxi as fast as she could so they skidded off.

   Evie puffed there. Wiped her sleeves on her wet cheeks.

   “Evie?” Max had joined Billy on the sidewalk. Conversation disrupted by the drama at the Fenny house. Evie exhaled cold and blinked until her makeup started to run. Sniffling. “You okay?”

   “Y-Yeah, fine.” She saw Billy step toward her and scurried back inside. Listened to the fire crackle some and went to her room. Unable to breathe right, hands felt around the bookcase. All the trinkets waiting. 

   She thought of Fredrick and his hands squeezing. In bed. Ropes. All the fucking orders he coos in her ear. Her head spinning and it's not enough to take her away. Not enough for her to dream deeper. Those hands. Yanking as she’s trying to leave to warn her against letting their secret out.

   But, he loved her too much. That's all. Emotional repetition. 

   Thought of Mona unable to look at her so often. Unable to notice her unraveling and speak of it. Paint a happy face. 

   Thought of lightning cracking to underscore a boom of weighty thunder. Palms on her legs.

   Not that kind of girl.

   Evie covered her ears.

   “Stop crying!” She wept with trembling lips. Too many hands roamed her body in darkness. Voices soothed her ears and only made it worse. She stood there patting her cheek, trying to console herself.

   Evie plucked up a tiny padlock shaped in a heart. Something you’d clasp your secret diary with. Pushed it into her tongue. Palms flattened on the wall as she tried to swallow. Choked the rust taste down until she was gasping. The lump sunk lower.

   Breathing slow. 

   In control of her thoughts and emotions again.

   Evangeline wondered just what kind of girl she was.

** ** **

   “Were they fighting?” Max had turned back to Billy leaning into his car. The cigarette smashed under his boot. An aimless shrug followed as the sky began to darken. Eyes fixed on were Evie disappeared to. Streetlights flipped on. 

   Smoke edged out Billy’s lips before he popped a mint. Woke his senses up.

   Max peered at him in a winter coat that was too big for her. Looked like a marshmallow on fire with her red hair.

   “You should go check…” She craned to listen for a raspy squeaking under the cold wind. “Hey. Do you hear that?”

   “What?” Billy came off his car as she went to the back wheel. 

   “That crying.”

   “Crying?” Billy turned, earring dangling to hear it. “What the hell?”

   “Look, it’s…”

   “A fucking huge rat trapped in my… Get out of there, you little shit.” He reached over the wheel and grasped trembling fur. Not caring if it bit him. 

   “Careful.” Max actually laughed at him grunting. Pulling a squirmy ball of matted fluff out to let it dangle there. “It’s not a rat! It's-"

   "Ugly."

   "It’s a scared kitten.”

   “Feral thing. It’s just cold and hungry.” Billy watched the nubby paws flail around. It spat a grumpy hiss at him. “Probably lost its mom.” 

   Max went quiet at that. Billy sighed. Actually looked softer and cradled a dirty grey kitten close to his leather coat. Looking around. 

   “Little shit.” He broke while it chewed on his thumb. Round head and hungry, little body. Bright blue eyes.

   “It’s a sign. Go give it to Evie.” The redhead smiled there. "She misses Bourbon.”

   “Max, that’s...ah, a good idea.” He stood taller. Made a face. “When did you wise up?”

   “Always been smart, you just never noticed.” She grew cheeky. “Don’t come home until Evie feels better.”

   Max turned to go back up to the house. Billy exhaled at her, crossed around with the squirming beast. Thumb rubbing soothing circles into it.

   "Look cute and friendly for a second, I want this girl to like me." Billy joked to the kitten, practicing a line to himself with a grin. "Hey, Angel, this cat's been on a journey to find you and I'm just getting it home. I am your destiny."

   Three knocks. Some shuffling followed before the door cracked. Evie’s face was splotchy. She’d changed into a burnt orange sweater and black leggings.

   Billy forgot all his lines.

   “What-?” Evie didn’t have time to react before he was pushing a ball of fur at her chest. 

   “Here.” He gruffed. “Found it hiding in my car. Smells like exhaust.”

   A raspy meow followed.

   Evie stammered a few words he couldn’t even piece together. Eyes bulging at the squeaky thing he’d just shoved at her. Hands scrambled to take it.

   “You lost your cat, we figured this one needed a home with someone batshit for cats. Know anyone?” Billy let her gape at him. Blinking several times, Evie tried to speak.

   “I, uh...uh, okay. I guess I could...could…” She melted looking at it. "Aww..."

   “Already likes you.” Billy watched the thing curl up and slow blink at its new mother. Evie sagged, licked her lips to marvel. Words came.

   “Thank you.”

   “Don’t mention it. Wouldn’t have made it much longer out here without its mom.” He looked at the empty swing on their porch. They had one in California. His mom liked to sit on it and hum. On good days. “Mona leaving for the week?”

   “Yeah, seeing her older sisters in New Orleans. It’s just me until next Sunday.” Evie was beaming at the kitten. Comforting it. “Poor thing needs a bath, it’s covered in grease.”

   “Well, just don’t give it a stupid name like Cherry because we found it on Cherry Lane.” He paused, joking. “Or Camaro. Won't hurt my pride.” 

   Billy was turning to go down the steps. Evie bit her lip. Smiled softer.

   “What about Blue?” She observed the kitten. “It’s a little girl.”

   “Blue?” Billy laughed and peered back at her.

   “For the color of your car. And her eyes.” And your eyes.

   A grin crossed Billy’s lips.

   “Not terrible.” He shrugged, leaving.

   “Billy.” Evie stepped out onto the welcome mat. Saw him pause there against a sea of white. Illuminated. Obscene. Beautiful boy. “Did...you maybe want to help me get her set up? I was thinking of ordering pizza and heating some apple cider.”

   “With caramel?”

   “Obviously.” She shrugged. “If you wanted to come in…”

   “Is this you forgiving me?”

   “I’ll let you think I am.” Evie rolled her eyes and turned with Blue content in her arms. Billy flashed his teeth. Climbed the steps to follow after. Shut the door behind him.

** ** **

   “I know, baby, I know.” Evie was washing dirt and grease from the squeaky creature’s fluff. “Poor thing. Hiding in that loud, scary car.”

   “My car was its safe haven.” Billy had the phone pressed into his shoulder.

   “Loud, scary machine.” She continued, amused. Let him finish the order and hang up.

   “Extra cheese and pepperoni fine with you?” Billy crossed to the kitchen sink where Evie settled a tiny makeshift cat bath in.

   “Sounds amazing. I didn’t eat much today…” She trailed off. Caught Billy’s eyes on her bruised arms again with her sweater pulled up. “He doesn’t hurt me. He’s just scared.”

   “Men hurt worse when they’re scared.” Was all Billy said. Evie frowned, plucking up the wet kitten to bundle it in a towel.

   “That’s better, isn’t it?” She continued. Cheeks fresh with strawberries. Lips upturned. Calmer while she nurtured it. Billy took note.

   “Were you fighting with your mom?” He asked. Evie barely glanced at him.

   “Not from my mom’s point of view.” Her head shook. “My...My dad called. I heard her telling him not to.” Evie’s eyes lifted. “How many times has he tried to call before? Has he even asked about me?”

   “You get along with your dad?”

   “He was gone a lot for work business, but we were close. Closer than my mom and I even. He was...really kind and affectionate. Always buying me things. Bringing little gifts home from his long work trips. I used to think he and my mom had this perfect marriage. Something out of an old sitcom.”

   Evie didn’t like to touch these things. Especially not in front of others. But, Billy Hargrove was looking at her. Staring pointedly and unashamed. Something admirable there even if he liked to deflect from himself.

   “I’m not sure now if my parents ever loved each other.” Billy had replied. Offering a sliver of himself to ease her pain. “Not sure if dad loves Susan either. But, she’ll do anything for him. I think he loves that. My mom stopped playing that game.”

   Evie felt this ocean within her heart roll softly upon a shore. Echoing distant calls.

   “Hey, that thing is almost cute now.” Billy’s quip made her snort. Huge, alien eyes blinked up at them.

   “Probably just barely weaned off its mother. Little runt. I have some soft canned food for now until I can get to the store. Hope you’re okay with Bourbon’s smell in the house still.” Evie cradled the cat and reached into a cupboard. “Let’s get you set up in my room. Shall we?” 

   Billy perked as she looked to him.

   “Pizza should be here when I’m done...did you want to pick a movie or something?” Hesitation had her feet shuffling. He could leave.

   They seemed to both consider it. Why they were still here. Meeting each other halfway. Did it matter?

   People can surprise you. All you can do is let them.

   “What’d you have? Dolly’s collection.” He smiled at her expression there.

   “Only on mom’s display. C’mere. Bottom shelf. Be amazed.” She cleared her throat as Billy entered the bedroom behind her. Neared one of the many bookshelves. This one covered in novels and VHS tapes. Evie set up a litter box and found some toys that hadn’t gotten much use. Let the kitten roam her bed and squeak. “Well?”

   “I’m impressed with the selection. Carpenter, Craven, De Palma, Hooper… What’s a nice girl like you doing with all of Argento’s flicks?”

   “Enjoying every minute.” She knelt down by Billy as he plucked up a tape, laughing. 

   “Evangeline Fenny owns The Slumber Party Massacre?”

   “I love a shitty dumpster fire of a movie that can make fun of its own genre. And it was directed by a woman.”

   “No way,” Billy turned it over, “jesus.” He pushed it back. “Sleepaway Camp, Carrie, Black Christmas, The Funhouse, Phantom of the Paradise. How about a classic... Michael or Leatherface?”

   “Myers.”

   “Leatherface is way better.” Billy grabbed Halloween.

   “Psssh.” Evie plucked Blue up. “He can act like he is.” They went into the living room, paid for the food, and got set up. Movie, warm apple cider, and pizza. Not a date. Just a hang out. Plus the cat. Blue wandered the top of the sofa and tried to play with Billy’s curls. 

   “Hey, I saved your life, rat.” He leaned forward to bite into a gooey slice. Licking the grease from his lips. Evie giggled at him as the movie started. Technicolor and firelight bathed the dim room. Crackling peacefully. 

   Evie peered at Billy again, dressed down in a fitted black tee and jeans. She curled her sock clad feet up on the couch. Sighed.

   “Is there anything pizza can’t solve?”

   “My experience, sex solves whatever’s left.” Billy spoke around a mouthful of food. Earned himself a scowl.

   “You pig.” 

   “I love it when you talk dirty,” he swallowed, wiping his mouth on a napkin, “you do this with the teacher?”

   “Still prying.” Evie picked at some crust and went for another slice. “He makes me these fancy dinners. Wine and all. We watch mind numbing old movies. Most of them are three hours long about some boring old guy or they’re a documentary.”

   “And that turns you on?”

   “No, but Fredrick admires my mind, I like that. He asks me my opinion on things. That’s how we got closer. Through shared books.”

   “Until he started prying into your home life and then your skirts.” Billy paused. “He liquors you up?”

   “Not really, but sometimes it helps when we have sex.”

   “Helps?” Billy set his plate down after four slices. One hand came back around the couch, neared Evie’s hair. Blue stumbled into his denim clad lap to get comfortable. “Does it hurt or something?”

  ��“I don’t know, sometimes I can’t relax.”

   “And he still has sex with you.”

   “It’s not a big deal, Billy. I like sex.” Evie turned, speaking over the haunting instrumental on screen. Michael Myers stalking his prey. “It’s not like he popped my cherry or anything. He’s been there for me and I was his confidante too. We have things in common. He just got out of a bad relationship.”

   “Yeah, and now he’s collecting on that. Listening to you.” Billy shrugged, reached to pat the kitten in his lap. Evie pressed her lips at the scene, shoulders sagging.

   “It feels good with him. I do...feel safe after. Ever been with someone who makes you feel safe?”

   There was a lingering beat of them staring. Eyes twinkled while the fire became tangerine embers.

   “No, I can’t say that I have.” Billy scooped up the kitten, heard it chirp before he offered it to Evie. Scooting just a little closer to her while Blue got settled again. “Hey.”

   “Hm?”

   “You’re still here with me.” He smirked, staring at the TV.

   “You’re running out of lines, heard that before.” Evie drew closer of her own accord. Felt Billy go impossibly still when her head tipped to his chest. A bold move on her part.

   “Just a reminder.” He breathed slow. “What else is there to know about you, Evangeline?”

   “Gotta ask questions.” She mused and became too serious. “Who are your favorite female role models?”

   “What?” Billy chuckled, touching her curls.

   “Mine are Gloria Steinem, Linda Marchiano, Katherine Johnson, and Sacheen Littlefeather. Oh, and Maya Angelou and-”

   “Stevie Nicks?”

   “Duh.”

   “I was hoping this would be some easy questions. Like tell me about your favorite pornstar or the biggest dick you've ever seen?”

   Her head came up.

   "I'm looking at it right now." Evie's leveled tone had Billy bursting with laughter. She went down again. Pride built because he cackled as hard as he did.

   "Okay, I back flipped my dumb ass into that one. Fuck." A finger wiped his eyes.

   She felt him illuminate. Why was everything he did breathtaking? It felt almost unfair.

   “Billy Hargrove can’t name a woman.” Evie sat up again, amused at his flat expression.

   “Joan Jett and Debbie Harry and Etta-”

   “You’re so trying to win me over with musicians.” She poked his chest and settled down against him. Tucked in.

   “Is it working?”

   “Maybe.” She smiled into his chest, inhaling that cologne he liked to bathe in. Aramis. Billy felt her grin and sucked in his cheeks. They continued watching for all of five minutes.

   Evie shot up again to face him. Billy near shrunk at the staring.

   “Do I have something on my face?” His brow rose. 

   “Okay, I’m asking it because I can't settle.” Evie touched her lips and narrowed. Blue cradled close with one hand while the other lifted to point. “I asked it before so don’t have a cow about it-”

   “No, I don’t think we look funny together. That’s all you, babe.”

   She deflated, hand dropping.

   “How’d you know I was gonna say that?”

   “You worry too much.” Billy spied the TV briefly. Peered back at Evie.

   “I see the pretty girls you date, it’s hard not to think about it. You’re here, but are you here because you actually like me? Or is this some weird guilt thing set up from the lies you told earlier.” Evie batted her lashes.

   “We have a week off of school and I’m eating pizza and watching a horror flick in the Fenny living room.” Billy’s head cocked while he explained. “Yeah. I lied. But, I like hanging out with you. Sue me.”

   “This isn’t some weird conquest, is it?” She watched Billy scoff and shake his head before she shrugging. Voice growing lush. “Do you like my stomach?” He chuckled again, flicking golden hair aside before he drew his fingertips up her side. Earned a shiver.

   “Yeah, it’s nice.” He said. Those fingers brushed her chin. “I’m still here with you. I still like it. Do you like it?” He licked his lips. Evie studied him and slowly came down. Nestled into his chest to consider it.

   A small syllable.

   “Yes.”

   Billy’s arm shifted to rest upon her. Palm grazing her hip. Evie blushed. Wondering how his fingers would feel wandering between her thighs again. A burning chill pricked her skin. Billy inhaled that amber scent she was known for. Sighed. Thought about tracing her lips. Thought of her mouth on his neck. And then lower.

   Fuck. Not now. Billy tried to breathe again.

   “Billy?” Evie piped up after the lengthy beat.

   “Yeah?” He shivered. Acutely aware of Evie’s body heat and beating heart against his frame. Her legs pressed into his thigh. Curled into him comfortably with Blue now snoring.

   “I forgive you.”

   A weight lifted off them both.

   When he was dead silent, she went on.

   “I called Bubbles, you know, to check on her after the whole Brock thing. Couldn’t stop laughing. She told me about that night. You punching him and the money. I know you’ve been trying to make it right and you don’t even have to. She said she saw you pull up and check on Brock’s date after looking for me. And I...I did really want to go to that motel with you. I haven’t had a night like that with a boy in… Well, never. Maybe we're not supposed to hang out, but it's stupid cause I like it-”

   Billy cupped her chin and brought their lips together without ceremony. The intensity of a supernova charged his veins. Evie felt it too.

   Blue scrambled up and pounced off them to the carpet. Away from Billy pawing for more of Evie. Until hands slid up his hard chest. Tasted the salt on his lips while she threaded fingers into his curls. A salted, caramel kiss from the cider. He roamed her body, unabashed.

   Too many sensations. Stars busting. Waves hitting a rocky shore. Absolute fireworks exploding against a sapphire sky.

   All those things that made a fairy tale magical. Happening in perfect sync. 

   Evie didn't shy as he touched her. Squeezed. Lips on her neck and back to her mouth.

   Desire had her dancing in an endless dream. 

   “Billy…” Evie kissed him again. Deepened it all on her own. Pushed Billy back into the couch which earned a sound that was truly entertained. Enthralled.

   Yes, she wanted him. It almost felt like she needed him and that didn't jar her one bit.

   A hand palmed her bottom then tugged at her shirt. She heaved to come up. Blinking some awareness back. 

   “Let’s go to your room.” Billy came up for more. Fingers tucked hair aside. He nipped at her lip and Evie gasped.

   “We can’t...I can’t. I’m still. I’m with him. I can’t be…” She slid off. Left Billy breathless there puffing. Throbbing. His pants already had the tiniest wet spot.

   “But, you want to?” He shoved up. All fluttered. “It’s okay if you don’t.”

   Evie curled herself into the smallest ball she could. Faced elsewhere.

   “Yes.” She strained. Hugging herself close. “It’s not that I’m still mad. Fredrick even said I could… But, I know he doesn’t mean it. He’ll get upset and freak out thinking I told someone. He broke things off with me after summer and I never told anyone, but I know...he might have been just seeing if I’d come back. And I did.”

   It seemed to hit her for the first time.

   "I'm sleeping with my fucking teacher. Oh fuck."

   “He’ll leave more bruises on you?” Billy stilled as she snapped to see him with glossy eyes. Face scrunching.

   “I like it when he’s rough.”

   “Because it helps you go somewhere else in your mind.” Billy huffed, leaning in. “When my dad… When he… Sometimes I like it when it’s hard. Because I press into walls and pretend I can sink into them.”

   Evie thought of Fredrick and how he complained about her way of sleeping.

   “He helped me and I helped him." A crack. "No one's ever gonna love me like he does."

   He leaned in with intensity building.

   "If he told you that, Evie, he doesn't love you." Billy uttered that too inordinate in sweetness. She almost shattered.

   "He’s taught me things. He wants me... He sees a future and I think I can’t turn away from that.” She whimpered pitifully.

   “Only thing he’s teaching you is how to give in and hate yourself quieter.” A cord struck so Billy eased it. “I’m not trying to make you feel like shit. You need to hear this.”

   “He wants me, just me.”

   “He wants his image of you! Does he tie you up? Some of those look like rope burns, Evie.” Billy slid in and grasped one hand.

   She wiggled and didn’t pull away. Saw Billy’s eyes.

   “Adults are supposed to fucking help us. Maybe he did at first, but he crossed a line with you because he couldn’t keep his weird fantasies in check. Of course he taught you things, you’re young..."

   "It doesn't matter."

   "All of it matters. What, does he liquor you up and make you watch porn? Point and ask why you can’t be more like those girls crying on screen because they’re moaning and sobbing and being pushed past their limits.”

   “He says he loves me and he's proud of me. I like making him happy.” Evie made an odd shuddering sound. Lips pressing before something fractured distantly. “I can’t just leave him. I love him too, but-”

   “But, what? There’s no such thing as an ‘I love you, but’…”

   “I’m scared, Billy, and I’m so stupid.” Evie buried her face in her knees when the pressure built. Lost it.

   Cried there in front of him. Hating herself for being so fragile and weak. It jarred Billy to see Evie Fenny truly hurt and terrified of this relationship she mooned over so often.

   Trauma twisted you like fresh snow covering what was there before. Frozen solid to hide it with something that shimmered.

   Arms lifted to bring her into his chest. Evie resisted on instinct and then melted down. Sobbed into his tee. Wet the soft fabric. Clung. Listened to Billy’s heart race.

   “I don’t know what to do, he keeps talking about the future. Whisking me away and marrying me, I thought I wanted that. I’m supposed to, but I don’t.” Evie pushed up to wipe her red eyes. “He doesn’t even care about my music, he wants me to be a housewife. I can’t even fucking make descent pasta.”

   She laughed bitterly at that.

   “Fredrick wants all these kids and I don’t. I'm...I'm still a kid. Fuck, I..." Felt like she only just realized that too. "I don’t even have myself together, how could I put another kid like me into the world? And what if I get old and he finds another young girl with issues, huh, what happens then? I know it's all fucked, I do, but I can't stop it.”

   “Evie, hey, look at me.” Billy was trying to cup her face. Met with more resistance as she couldn’t stomach looking him in the eye while crying. Evie backed out and wiped her face again. Swallowed the empty lumps in her throat. Tremoring. “You gotta leave this guy. He’s gonna get worse. You’re fucking shaking.”

   “...I know.” She squeaked. “Sometimes I feel like I might shatter if I disappoint him. Have you ever felt like that?”

   "Yeah. And I shattered anyway."

   Billy Hargrove stopped dead. Displayed this blaring vulnerability that was miraculous on him.

   Saw a girl in clear, ruby red danger.

   "I'm just so tired, Billy, I never thought I'd be so tired at seventeen." Evie started to cling again and he let her. Fingers pulling for more of him and so he offered more in return. Tucked Evie under his chin. Still here with her.

   Frankly, neither of them worried about that any longer.

   “My mom didn’t leave my dad when she should have. Not early enough. He messed her up pretty bad. She had a lot of problems she never got over.” Billy cracked through the layers of volcanic rock hardened around his heart. She shifted to see him there. One finger drew the tears from her cheeks. Evie searched his eyes. Flickering. No longer hearing the screams on screen behind them.

   “What happened to her, Billy?” She saw this star fall behind his eyes and wished she could have caught it.

   Billy pulled her in closer until they were lying together. His mouth pressed into dark ringlets to murmur. Inhaling all the heat in her perfume. Honey amber.

   “She died.” His lips cast too gentle syllables. Evie held him back. Tangled bodies.

   Souls locking together without fear among dwindling embers.

   "And I don't want you to die too."

~~~~~~~~

Thanks all for reading!!! As always, feel free to chat with me about Billy and Evie. Askbox and taglist are both open. ^_^ 🍓

@80sbxtch  @nottherightseason  @orxhidshavana  @alagalaska​ @alongcamedolly  @kellyk-chan  @stanley--barber @10blurredsmoke10

[nami-writes]

Bittersweet Reunion - Watch Dogs: Legion [WIP]

(can you tell i had no clue what to name this)

so i wrote this after i played wdl and finished the finding bagley mission bc i loved that there was a canon mlm pairing and i thought the whole meeting bradley thing was Incredibly unsatisfying so i did this and originally i was gonna have bagley and arthur get back together but then it started writing itself and bagley wouldnt date arthur bc that’d go against his morals and i was like shit thats not what i planned but also i realized it was in character so this is that disaster lmao

“I’m ready for the rest of my life, Arthur. And I want you to be a part of it.”

The sixth audio file ended with what sounded like a kiss, and Lindsey had to pause to take it in. Bagley had really had a life— a lover. A lover he had to leave behind.

“Arthur… I should remember more about him. But I don’t.”

It sounded so rushed, so nonchalant, that Lindsey knew better than to believe his tone and even Bagley himself knew it. Because, truth was, he was processing the same things Lindsey was and more. He really was damned to eternity, being a human turned AI and all, because now he was experiencing quite a lot of thoughts and certainly not enjoying it. Where was Arthur now? Did he still remember him? Did he miss him? Why was Bagley even wondering if his not-boyfriend still missed him?

Some part of his human half wondered if it’s possible to find Arthur again, meet the person his past self was so deeply in love with that now he found himself longing for him too.

“Sir—”

“Don’t touch me!”

Bagley was pulled out of the thoughts growing less and less artificial by the second as the next audio file began, already far more emotionally charged than the ones prior.

“These people are here to help you, Bags—”

“Don’t call me that!”

He’s snappish and frustrated and angry and current Bagley could almost feel it too. There’s more struggling as Bagley— past Bagley— seemed to be fighting someone off.

“She did this! Someone stop her!”

‘She’ must’ve been Skye Larsen, who else could it have been? He wanted to hope Natalie would listen— just listen, goddammit, this was all Skye’s fault, don’t you know what she’s done?— but he knew it was no use. They didn’t know. Natalie didn’t know. Not a fucking soul knew what she did to him.

“Don’t hurt him! He’s not usually like this!”

“Get out of my head! Get o—”

His voice died out as more noise played, then an unfamiliar voice called for an ambulance.

“Bags. Bagley. Bra—”

And it ended there.

“I’m assuming that ‘she’ was Skye Larsen,” he said to Lindsey. “Seems like the usual suspect where brain fuckery is concerned.” As controlled as he usually was, not even he could keep the slightest bit of anger out of his voice by the end of his sentence.

The next audio file began with a man explaining that Bagley had early on-set dementia, which intrigued him because it didn’t explain when exactly Skye got her hands on him. Then the sister from prior audio files spoke with that same strangely familiar voice, just as demanding as before. “You listen to me. I don’t care what it takes. No brother of mine is going to waste away in some hospital.”

Something was wrong. There was a piece missing somewhere between those memories and he had an idea of where it could be found.

Skygarden.

“Why do I have a feeling we’re not up here to reminisce?” The audio began as Lindsey snapped the last photo.

“Right. I’ve been thinking a lot about your epilepsy.” The sister. Of course. He still couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but she sounded awfully familiar, but not in a good way. In a this-person-has-the-same-name-as-my-primary-school-bully way.

“That’s nice. My doctors stopped thinking about it years ago. I had to give up so much because of it. Rowing, my mates, my…” A sigh followed after he trailed off and he had a feeling that that sigh replaced the word ‘boyfriend.’

“I’m sorry, Bradley.” Bradley. That name sounded familiar. Come to think of it, that must’ve been what Natalie called him in the seventh audio file just before it cut off. He supposed it sounded familiar because, well, it is— was— his name, but there was something more to it. He just couldn’t figure out what. He ran a quick search for Bradleys in London, but of course that left him with thousands of Bradleys and not a single clue as to how to filter out the useless ones.

“Wow. Look at you using my real name for once. I must be truly fucked.” Fucked was an understatement. How did he go from a human to nothing more than an AI? It wasn’t that he was unhappy as an AI, especially considering he worked for DedSec and they were wonderful, they really were, but to think he was once human…

“What if I told you I had something that could work?”

Something deep inside of him that vaguely resembled a computerized heart dropped at those words. He had a bad, bad feeling about this.

“Ha. Never knew you were funny.”

But Skye Larsen created him, didn’t she?

“I’m not. It’s a tech we’re developing. It’s early stages, but… have you ever heard of neural mapping?”

“No.” No, it couldn’t be.

“Here. Let’s go to my lab. I’ll show you.”

Who was this sister?

“Lead the way, Skye.”

And the audio ended.

“I was Skye Larsen’s brother.” It was strange to say out loud. “I’m Bradley. Bradley Larsen.” That was why she sounded so familiar. That was why Skye Larsen was his creator. Fuck. “Bradley Larsen…” He returned to his search for Bradleys and narrowed it down to one Bradley Larsen, brother of Skye Larsen, son of Sinead and Kevin Larsen. “I’ve found a room pre-paid through to April 4, 2040 under the name of Bradley Larsen— paid for by S. Larsen.” Skye.

“So you might still be alive,” Lindsey said. “Where’s the room?”

He checked his databases. “St. Pancras Hotel.”

And when she arrived, it was no less than what he expected, if less than what he wanted.

He left not quite satisfied.

But what else could he do? His father was gone and his mother and sister were dead. He checked his deep profiler and found Natalie through Bradley, but it seemed she was dead as well. And then— Arthur Jenkins, former spouse. 

“I think I’ve found Arthur from the sixth audio file,” he said. “Mind getting him for me?”

“Say the word, Bags,” Lindsey said.

He found his schedule and looked for his soonest outing. “He’ll be at Crosier & Cherry Tree at 8 PM.” There was a tinge of sadness in his voice at the location that they both decided to ignore.

He checked the rest of Arthur’s profile, too curious to resist. His photo was attached. To his surprise, Arthur was a curly-haired ginger. Apparently Bradley had known more people with no souls than just Skye Larsen. Age 29, worked as a bartender at Crosier & Cherry— that was why he’d be there. Associated with Melissa Phillips, friend; Natalie Walker, deceased friend; and Bradley Larsen, former spouse. Metadata… looking through it could’ve broken his heart if he had one.

He had countless searches involving dementia up until he was 28 and had hundreds of recorded visits to St. Pancras Hotel, Bradley’s room. Hundreds of visits that, when he accessed the records, seemed to just… stop. Daily-to-weekly visits simply vanished into none. Numerous phone calls to Skye Larsen that Bagley could only assume were angry and accusational because he was charged for harassment due to a complaint from Skye on the same day he stopped visiting.

He tried. He really tried, and then Skye fucked it all up like she always does.

“Bagley, I’ve found him.” He turned his attention to Lindsey’s Optik and, sure enough, he could see the ginger in the photo through the glass window. “Want me to bring him back to the Hackerspace?”

He considered it, but bringing him back would’ve meant involving the others. This was just a one-time thing. “No, just— could you get him somewhere I could talk privately with him?”

“Sure thing.” He watched as she entered the pub and approached Arthur at the counter.

“‘Ello, mate, what can I get for you?” he asked, uncannily cheery with a smile on his face. Something told Bagley this should’ve made him feel… something, but he felt not even a twinge of recognition from anywhere other than the photo on his digital profile.

“I’m here to talk to you, actually,” Lindsey said.

“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow and took a second to look her over a second time, his customer service smile fading into skepticism. “Do I know you?”

“No, but I know someone you do. Mind if we talk somewhere else?”

He shrugged. “S’pose not. Better get it on with, then, I’ve got to get back to work.”

Shit. Time was running out and they were already heading to a back room and Bagley hadn’t a fucking clue what to say so when he was cast onto the nearest unwatched telly before Lindsey left, all he could think to say was “Hello, Arthur.”

And then there was a silence where Bagley was internally cursing himself for being such a bloody idiot and Arthur looked like either he was about to drop to his knees in awe or he had shit himself. And then he broke the silence.

“Bradley?” His eyes were lit up with hope, hope Bagley knew he’d have to destroy because he wasn’t Bradley, not really. But he’d worry about that later.

“Oh, Gods, that’s going to be my version of Bradley’s stupid nickname, isn’t it? Though, if you ask me, Bagley is a perfectly good name,” he remarked. He had no idea how to properly handle a situation in which he was meeting the lover he had in a past life, so, naturally, he reverted to his usual self. Arthur was in love with him before, he can put up with him again.

Arthur chuckled, cracking a smile. “Now I know you aren’t Bradley. He hated that nickname.” He took another moment to comprehend what just happened. “But, really, how? How are you— what are you? What is” —he gestured vaguely at the TV screen— “this?”

“That’s a funny story, actually, see—”

“Bradley,” Arthur interrupted him, his smile turning solemn. “I’m serious. Last time I saw you, you were in a bloody wheelchair! What happened to you?”

There was another silence where Bagley tried to think of something ‘serious’ to say, but his actual response felt much more natural to him.

“Don’t call me that,” he said, a feigned grumble but unseen smile in his voice, “that’s not my name.”

And at that, not even Arthur could keep a straight face, but his smile didn’t last long. “Bags. Please. I need answers. I was so sure it was that bitch Skye— sorry, I know she’s your sister and all, but— I spent so long searching for ways to help you and trying to get her to fucking stop— you only ended up in the bloody hospital after she got involved and then she wouldn’t let me keep seeing you and I couldn’t—” His voice broke then and he had to pause, clear his throat and collect himself. “I’m sorry, I tried, I didn’t want to stop visiting. I really didn’t. I’m sorry.”

Bagley didn’t know how to tell him it was all in vain; Skye won in the end, she always did, and he didn’t even remember being Bradley or knowing Arthur at all. As far as he remembered, he’d only known Arthur for five minutes.

“Bagley?”

“It doesn’t matter.” There was no use in prolonging it.

“...What?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he repeated. “I’m not Bradley.”

“Are you mad? Of course you’re Bradley.’

“No, I’m not. Bradley is still in St. Pancras. I’m Bagley.”

Arthur gave a confused chuckle and crossed his arms. “What are you talking about?”

“It was Skye,” he finally said. “It’s a long story, really, but in simpler terms, she tried to fix Bradley’s epilepsy through a process called neural mapping. It essentially separated his consciousness from his body, which gave him dementia and took my human body. I’m his consciousness, but I’m not him.”

Arthur didn’t respond. He seemed to still be processing what he’d just heard.

“And I’m sorry to say, but my memory was wiped not long after my creation. I don’t… remember anything about being Bradley.” He paused. Arthur knew what that meant, and he knew that his next sentence was going to confirm it. “I don’t remember anything about you.”

Arthur took far longer to respond than Bagley would’ve liked. “So you’re—” He stopped. “So Bradley’s really gone.”

“Unfortunately so.”

More silence. “Then why are you here?”

That was a good question, actually. Why was he here?

“I suppose I came to say goodbye,” Bagley said. “Give you some closure on Bradley, so you know what happened. I know you two were quite close.”

He scoffed. “Close is an understatement.” His voice softened. “We were going to get married,” he said. “At least, I think we were. If Skye hadn’t gotten involved— if I’d only had the time— I was going to propose. Had a ring in mind and everything. I’m fairly sure Bradley knew, too. I just wanted us to have that one thing before… before it was too late.”

Bagley had to take a second to let it sink in. In a past life, he’d almost gotten married. How much had he missed out on as a human because of Skye? His voice was solemn as he spoke, a first for him. “I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be.” Arthur offered no elaboration before something else seemed to cloud his mind. Silence seemed to be something both of them were good at. Bagley considered directly asking what was on his mind, but Arthur spoke before he could decide. “Can I ask something of you?”

“Ask away. I’ve only got the rest of my non-life.”

“...Could we try it again?” he asked, hesitation in his words. At Bagley’s confused silence, he uncrossed his arms, a willing show of vulnerability. “I mean, could we try… us, again? I know you don’t remember anything about me or Bradley and you’re not Bradley, I know that, but— maybe something good could come out of it. Maybe— maybe we could still have something.”

“You want us to…” He trailed off, thinking it over. By ‘something,’ he meant a relationship, but— could he be in a relationship? He was still an AI. He wasn’t Bradley. He wasn’t even attracted to Arthur. Hell, he wasn’t even sure he could feel attraction, if that was built into his operating system. Everything in him wanted to say no, it would never work out. An AI taking part in human affairs was a recipe for disaster.

“We could start from the beginning,” Arthur added, as if he knew what Bagley was thinking before he even said it. “I know you don’t really know me so we can start out just friends, nothing more. We can take it as slow as you want and if you decide there’ll never be anything more, we can just stay as friends if that’s what you’re comfortable with. But if you think there can be more, we can try that.”

It was tempting, but… Arthur was still human. And Bagley was not. “Arthur, I’m not sure I was made for this.”

“Then let’s find out,” he said. “I’m okay with anything you are.”

“No, I mean I’m not sure I was made to feel attraction. I believe that’s a fairly important part of relationships,” Bagley said with a hint of humor in the last sentence, though it disappeared by the next. “I’ve never felt that way toward anyone and I’m not sure you’ll be an exception.”

He sighed. “Bags. It doesn’t matter to me whether you like me as a friend or as a boyfriend. What matters is whether or not you’re comfortable with me. I didn’t fall in love with your attraction. I fell in love with you.”

“You fell in love with Bradley,” he corrected. “Not me.”

Regardless of how tempting the offer was and how curious he was to see the extent of his human capabilities, it’d only be an experiment. A trial run of a relationship with someone who was only willing because he was still attached to the person Bagley no longer was. It would be cruel to take advantage of Arthur’s hope for his own curiosity— no different from what Skye did to Bradley. He might’ve had his human body stripped from him, but he still had his humanity.

“Arthur, I’m not Bradley,” he said. “And I know it’s hard to accept, but I can’t be the person you want me to be.”

[fallout4holmes]

Nuka-World 6

We had a visitor the next morning. Mags Black left her two cronies at the base of the artificial mountain as she took the lift up herself. I don't know what she said to Gage to get him to stay put on the ground, but he wasn't happy about it.

Holmes had just finished his morning cigarette and a minimal breakfast. He stood as she stepped off the lift, "Ah. Ms. Black."

The raider boss raised an eyebrow, "Miz? It's like you're trying to stand out. You're the Overboss now, Mister Holmes, you get to be on a first name basis with everyone."

Holmes lit another cigarette and said with exaggerated politeness, "To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"

Mags smirked, "You can blame it on giving the Disciples The Galactic Zone. I don't know what you're planning, but I want my people to come out on top at the end."

"At the moment, avoiding the animosity of an amusement park full of raiders is my primary concern."

"Bullshit," she said pleasantly. "You're the General of the Minutemen, the frozen vault-dweller that destroyed the Institute. I heard about your almost-war with the Brotherhood too, how you kicked them out of the Commonwealth after destroying their toys." She gestured to me, “Most of the raiders in Nuka-World are from west of here, where the Institute never had a presence. They think your friend is just a nifty robot bodyguard. Creepy, but nothing more. Those of us from the Commonwealth though?” She smiled, sinister, “We know exactly what he is. William and I know better than most. You never did find that janitor that went missing, did you Nick? What was her name, Amelia?”

“Annette,” I corrected, tried not to rise to the bait. “Not usually a fan of kicking folks out beyond the Wall, but in the case of you and your brother I’m glad Diamond City did.”

“Funnily enough, so are we. This suits us much better.” She said it smoothly, nothing but charm, but you don’t last long in my line of work if you can’t tell a bluff when you see one. She turned her attention back to Holmes, “Either your rumored nobility is all an act to get you into a place of power, or you’re going to throw a wrench into the fragile gears of this place. If it turns out to be the first one, you may want to consider showing my people a bit of favor before ugly rumors of synths and interfering Minutemen start circulating the park. If it’s the second one, well. Just know that every Operator in this park is watching.”

Holmes glowered, “I don’t respond well to threats.”

“As long as you respond,” Mags said, and took the lift back down.

As soon as she was down, Gage came up. "Mags pissed?"

"A touch upset," Holmes offered me a cigarette, which I took. "I was a little surprised she remembered you, Valentine."

"Guess it's hard to forget a face like this," I said dryly.

"What the hell are you two goin' on about?" Gage sighed.

"Nothing important," Holmes said, "just the Operators being unhappy with me. They can have the next park, it doesn't matter."

"Giving 'em the next park might look like you were intimidated," Gage said.

"What is the next park?" Holmes asked.

"Figured we'd hit Dry Rock Gulch."

"Hm, the American 'Old West' theme. A fake gold mining operation should suit the Operators, don't you think, Valentine?"

I chuckled, "I think the implication is gonna go over their heads, but we might as well check it out and get it over with."

Holmes agreed and we headed off. We made it to the park’s gate when I heard something moving through the earth, sort of like the sound a mole rat makes just before it leaps out and bites you. Only these weren’t mole rats.

A handful of big red worms with mouths that took up the whole head attacked, surprising the hell out of me and Holmes and earning an annoyed growl from Gage. They weren’t much of a fight, but, “Well that was unpleasant,” I said.

“You never seen bloodworms before?” Gage asked, skeptical.

I shook my head, “We don't get these things back east.”

“Better get used to ‘em, they’re a fucking menace around here.”

Hopefully we wouldn’t be staying long enough for me to get used to them, but I kept that to myself. I glanced around as we entered the park, the Old West frontier outpost aesthetic turned kitsch.

“How’s it go,” Gage sarcastically drawled, “This town ain’t big enough for you and me… ah, never mind.”

Holmes chuckled. “Let’s ask the local law enforcement for information,” he pointed to a protectron wearing a sheriff’s hat.

“Hope y'all are having a good day here at Nuka-World. Ready to saddle up and ride into the old wild west?” the protectron said.

“Great,” Gage grumbled, “More dumb robots.”

The protectron was unperturbed, “I'm the sheriff of these parts, and I need your help getting rid of those no good outlaws holed up in Mad Mulligan's Mine!”

“This is why I hate robots,” Gage huffed. “They don’t even know the world ended, this playtime shit is annoying.”

The protectron’s park personality programming stopped, “Processing: Hostile visitor. Ignore and continue explanation for the sake of the other guests.”

I laughed.

The sheriff continued his job, “The door to Mad Mulligan's Mine is locked up. I got a spare key in a safe by the theater, but wouldn't you know, I plum forgot what the combination to the safe was! You'll need to talk to my three amigos: Doc Phosphate, One-Eyed Ike, and the Giddyup Kid. Prove to them you're tough enough to take on the outlaws, and they'll give you their part of the combination. Good luck, little doggie! And don't forget your complimentary deputy uniform, courtesy of Nuka-Cola!”

The sheriff handed Holmes a costume, who promptly handed it to Gage, who scowled before realizing, “You got a weird ass sense of humor, boss,” and tossed it away. As we walked he asked, “We really gotta do all that, talk to three other robots just to get a key?”

“I suppose we could simply hang a banner and be done with the place,” Holmes said.

Gage shook his head, “Not with the bloodworms. Gotta torch the nest first, otherwise whoever moves in is gonna be pissed to hell you gave ‘em an infested base.”

Holmes made casual eye contact with me. He’d been hoping for a raider-bloodworm showdown.

“I mean,” Gage was still talking, “why do we need this fucking key in the first place? Can’t we just blast the door open?”

“I try not to do anything rash if I can avoid it,” Holmes said, “and surely you don’t think we’ll be bested by a few challenges designed for children?”

“I’m starting to second-guess making you Overboss,” Gage grumbled.

“Perhaps you should have considered that possibility before enthroning a stranger you know precious little about, against his will,” Holmes steely replied.

“I can deal with an ass of a boss,” Gage played it cool, “as long as he gets done what needs to get done.”

We did the tasks for the park protectrons, fighting bloodworms, overgrown crickets, and giant ants along the way. Once we had the key, we headed for Mad Mulligan's Mine… a roller-coaster.

Gage had kept pretty quiet til then, "People actually stood in line and waited for this crap?" He scoffed, "Bunch of suckers."

"Roller-coasters were a popular attraction,” I commented flatly, “though I can’t say I ever saw the appeal.”

Holmes gestured for quiet as we headed into the ride. The lobby held a souvenir shop and the entrance to the tunnels that would lead folks to the boarding area, decorated to look like you’re walking through a mine out of a Saturday morning western. Back then it probably lacked the dead bodies, of course. Holmes and I had heard rumors of traders who hid from Colter’s raiders in Dry Rock Gulch. We found ‘em. Bloodworms saw to it they didn’t have long to enjoy their freedom.

The boarding area was a massive pit littered with brahmin corpses, bulging with bloodworm larvae. In the middle of the pit was the massive queen herself.

“I believe we’ve found the nest,” Holmes said.

“No shit, boss,” Gage scoffed.

“Valentine and I will take care of the queen, you exterminate everything hiding in those brahmin.”

Gage nodded, “Sounds like a plan.”

I might be getting too old for fighting overgrown monsters in caves… but every time I think that, I know it’s not really true. Or it is, and I’m too stubborn to admit it. Anyway, we got the job done but the queen did a number on my leg. At least we know that Nuka-Town’s got a competent mechanic. I could walk, which is saying something, just going to have a limp until whatever got whacked out of place could get realigned. Gage was going to make a remark, but wisely shut up when Holmes glared at him.

We let the Sheriff know the job was done, got paid, which was a nice surprise, and Holmes climbed up to the top of the theater to hoist a flag with a black heart in a bullseye, bleeding gold.

“Gave in to the Operators after all, huh?” Gage said once Holmes was back on the ground. He didn’t sound accusatory, which was kind of weird, just like he was making conversation. Which was also kind of weird.

“If I have to secure Mags Black’s silence with a token gesture,” Holmes said, “then so be it.”

Gage shrugged, “Just let ‘em know you’re the Overboss, not some do-good General.”

“Gage, you conned me into this mess for the purpose of bringing the gangs together, yes? How does strutting around threatening violence serve that purpose?”

“Because we’re raiders?? That’s the language these idiots speak. You gotta treat ‘em right, but make sure they know you can end them at any time.”

Holmes made a considering sound and headed out of the park, “I often thought that if raiders could ever organize, they would be a force to be reckoned with. It seems I was right.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you!” Gage exclaimed, relieved as if Holmes had finally come around. He didn’t know that every time the topic came up, it was followed with a list of possible ways the Minutemen would eliminate that threat.

Unfortunately, none of the hypothetical scenarios ever involved the General and his partner effectively being held hostage, with no way to call for help.

[who-is-olivia]

Track 7. Kiwi

Harry Styles x OC x Matty Healy

Harry finds Olivia in a rock n’roll mayhem with another man. [5.1k]

Genre: smut

Warnings: sexual language, substance abuse

May 2012

  After few months of touring, it's time to take America. If that prospect alone didn't excite Harry enough, from now on Olivia and Frank will be their opening act, which means they'll travel together. Upon arriving at their hotel in New York, most of the band chooses to rest from the trip but he's electric. So, who better to sho him around than the man himself – Frank.

  Unfortunately, after their hangout in London he forgot to get Oli's phone but he's got Frank’s, and they ended up texting a lot. They also have a lot in common, just not in a way he and Oli have.

“Hey, I’m on the cab, where should I go?”

“That depends: do you want to chill or be physically and emotionally violated?”

He snorts, “Does the second one have an address?”

  He arrives about an hour later at the Polydor Records Studio and immediately spots a tall-ish man in a red dress casually smoking a joint while leaning on a brick wall.

“Hello Harold!” he gives him one of his wet kisses on the cheek then leads him up a slim corridor with a narrow staircase. “You’re gonna love this, everybody is in there”

“Wait...” he holds him back, “who’s everybody?”

“Just the usual suspects and a few friends from the old label”

“Is your sister here?”

“Of course she is” Harry sighs. “What?”

“Things got a little intense last time, I don’t want it to get weird-“

“It’s already weird then”

“I don’t want it to get weirder!”

“That’s kind of inevitable, just drink and forget about it” Frank presses him up the tiny stairs.

  When they walk into the room, it stinks of rock n’ roll. The dim light reveal the loads of music sheets spread over a table along with bottles of Tanqueray and Jack Daniels, a light mist covers the air making the room reek of tobacco and Harry swears he caught lines of powder on his periphery view. It is absolute mayhem.

  Franks leads him to another room, opening the door on a bedroom with two women getting it on and immediately shutting it. He opens another and it leads to a studio where he hears only muffled conversations as everyone is quietly watching what a half-naked skinny guy is singing inside a cabin, his chest littered with few tattoos and his hair a stylish mess. Everybody he’s seen so far shows a distinguishing trait, be it the tattoos, the colored hair, the dark makeup, they look so cool... while Harry sports only his jumper and a beanie. He feels terribly out of place, and then he sees her, daring to even crack a smile.

  Olivia’s working on the sound table with another guy, moving the controls up and down according to her taste. This time she has a lot less make up on, only a blurry rim of eyeliner smudged around her eyes, her braids are on a messy bun, and she wears a black dress that hugs her upper body tightly and flows freely from her waist to her knee. She’s not unkempt, just not as artificial as everybody else in the studio and way more comfortable than the first time they met, as now she’s not trying to make an impression – although, if she was, she would’ve accomplished that.

  The boy singing in the cabin also makes a huge impression on him. If he wore a hat and long sleeves, he could mistake him for a normal boy, but his curly hair with shaved sides and big showy tattoos certainly draw some attention to him. He’s not a terrific singer, but he puts enough confidence in it to mask the lack of formal training. Harry wishes he could sing like that, look like that but – most specifically –  be looked by Olivia like that. She’s focused on her work but when she looks at him her face lights up in a very endearing way he’s secretly jealous of.

“‘Cause you’re cold and I burn, I guess I’ll never learn ‘cause I stay another hour or two! That’s for you Oli!” he sings.

“For fuck’s sake...” she mocks nonchalantly to the other guy, who just laughs.

“Oli, we’ve got a visitor!” Frank calls and she turns.

   He thinks she’ll just wave him off, or give him a simple nod. He’s not that cool, what’s he doing here? Her indifference would kill him. However, contrary to his expectations, she smiles, runs towards him and laces her slim arms around his neck. Harry is the last person she expected to see in this shit show, but her heart still soars when she sees that dimply smile too pure to be in this room.

“Didn’t think I’d get to see you before the tour” she caresses down his shoulders to his hands.

He holds on to her fists and leans to whisper a bit over-confidently, “I hope it’s a nice surprise” she smiles, still trying to convince herself that he’s here standing before her-

“What’s going on?” the boy speaks on the cabin and his accent immediately rings familiar.

Oli rushes to her coms, still holding his hand, and presses a button. “It’s a friend of mine, come out here and be polite!”

“I’m always polite!”

“And put your shirt on!” she watches him show his tongue, getting his floral shirt off a guitar hook.

“Hey, who’s the new guy?” a girl asks with a cigarette between his teeth, holding a guitar on her lap and sunglasses on her face – even though the room is quite dark.

“I’m Harry”

“He’s not from the label, is he?”

“No, he actually gets paid” Oli laughs, stealing the cigarette from her lips and taking a drag.

“Oh no, give it back!” the girl tries to pick the cigar from between her fingers but they run to the other room where all chaos ensues, “you already finished my pack, you bitch!”

“I’ll buy you another” she stumbles backwards and slams into a guy’s chest, the guy who was singing in the box now with a floral shirt hanging on his back, and he hugs her in a way too familiar way.

“I told you to put a shirt on!”

“It’s too hot out here” he buries his face on her neck but she dizzily pushes him away.

“Matty, this is Harry”

  This name rings a bell. Is he not the guy who hit her up and then never called back? The guy from Cheshire who broke her heart? Why is he here and why is she so close to him after all they talked about?

“Oh, you’re the guy who stole Oli from us?” the boy mocks.

“Not exactly...” Harry tries to explain but notices they’re not in the mindset for that.

“Just messing mate” he comes over and shakes his hand, “I’m Matty, this is my mate, George” he gestures to a giant guy who’s on the sound table just behind Harry. They politely wave at each other.

“I liked what you were doing there” Harry points to the cabin. “I didn’t know you produced”

“Got lots of practice, the studios we had to work with were not nearly as fancy, but we learn from hardship” she gasps as Matty pulls a chair beneath them, pulling her to sit on his lap. Harry shifts on his feet.

“That’s true”

“But I missed you guys, I mean, Columbia is giving us all the tech, right?” she points the cigarette at Harry and he nods, “but this is where we were born, you know!” she tells, more to the room than to him. “I remember going to a studio on the other side of the Atlantic when I was 18 and just trying to sound like something other than a little brat, and then skipping weeks of class just to record one chorus, the trips to Europe, I mean... I really missed this”

“We missed you too” Matty coos as he discreetly slides his hand up her thigh, hiding his hand beneath the skirt as he sends her a lustful gaze. Harry remembers the night he was this close, when she looked at him in the exact same way as she looks at this stranger.

“Do you want that drink now?” Frank offers and Harry quietly thanks him for accurately reading the room.

“Yes, please”

  They go for the bar at the end of the hallway and while Frank searches through the fridges, Harry glimpses back to find Oli and Matty making out on the chair. His heart sinks. In his mind, he can fix the scene: she straddling his own lap, hands pulling his hair by the roots as their tongues dance to a delicious kiss, her chest heaving against his... a glass clinking pulls him back to reality.

“Got any songs cooking?” Frank asks, uncapping a beer bottle for him.

“Just bits and pieces”

“Then it’s your lucky day: Matty and George are the best producers I know, this album they’re coming up with is fucking brilliant-“

“Yeah, I’m not feeling quite lucky mate” he replies, putting down his beer.

“Well, I can’t do much about it”

“You can give me something stronger than this” he shakes the bottle before his nose.

“You shouldn’t even be drinking, we’re in America you dumbass” Frank argues despite serving him a double shot of brandy.

“I’ll keep in mind” Harry downs it in two gulps and winces.

“But seriously, Matty is a fucking genius, don’t be shy just ‘cause he’s banging my sister”

“I won’t... I just don’t think I can make anything for the album here, like, I’m legally not allowed...” Harry leans on the balcony, feeling the alcohol hit his empty stomach.

“You don’t have to release it, just do something for the pure, unadulterated joy of doing it”   he clinks another bottle of beer against his empty glass and drags him back to the studio.

  Thankfully, Oli and Matty are not making out anymore, just talking shit in each other’s ears. When they walk into the room, the lights are dimmer and someone in the drums is playing a sick beat, joined shortly after by someone in the guitar. They build a seemingly improvised pop rock tune so contagious even he can’t stay put. Frank pulls him by the hand and leads him to dance shaking his head, making his hair fly all over the place. At some point Olivia appears and joins them, her braids falling from the bun. Harry encircles her waist and pulls her to dance against him, despite knowing very well Matty’s still around, he just gets the instinct and his drunken mind abides to it. She holds him by the jumper, clumping the fabric in her fists as she pulls him even closer, when he’s about to do something about it the song ends.

  Only without the beat does he notice the frantic rhythm of his heart when she’s this close. Olivia struggles to breath, and it’s not because of all the dancing.

But she still leans towards him and, between raggedy breaths, whispers: “I’m so fucking glad you’re here”

“Yeah?” he hugs her closer. Instead if answering, she bites his ear lobe teasingly and escape his grasp.

“Wait a bit, I know who you are” Matty calls him out and he turns on his tipsy toes.

“Me?”

“Yeah, you’re that kid from the X Factor who got on the boyband, right? The one from Cheshire” he gestures with a cigarette balancing between his fingers and a glass of whiskey.

Harry sighs mentally, already prepared for an oh-so original boyband joke about choreography and matching clothes. “That’s me”

“You were the talk of the town for like... a year! I fucking loved your album, man” he frowns, “did you wrote any of it?”

“I wrote Same Mistakes and-“

“Fuck...” he grins really wide and Harry is pulled to a halt, “sorry man, I love that shit”

“Thanks, mate” he replies, looking past him to see Olivia strutting towards Frank.

  Although Harry fancies himself as quite an observer, he failed to regard how uncomfortable Olivia feels around Matty sometimes – and by sometimes, she means the times when he is stoned. She loves the extensive and meaningful conversations they have about politics and music and film, but when he’s fucked up she can barely pay attention because he looks so broken. When he kisses her, even though it’s just a playful thing, she can barely feel him there and it’s so much more disturbing than not kissing him at all. She can’t shake off that feeling that they’re just messing about, and that nothing about their previous encounter means a thing to him.

She reaches Frank and sighs, pulling him to a hug. “Frankie...”

“Talk to me, bug” he welcomes her, lacing her shoulders.

“He’s doing that thing again with the drink and the cigarette in one hand” he giggles, knowing exactly what she’s talking about. “Can you look even more like a junkie?”

“If one could, Matty would figure it out” he mocks, tugging on her braids. “What about Harry?”

She frowns. “What about him?”

“He told me something happened when you were in London”

“A lot of things happened, but you were too busy getting high in SoHo”

“He’s a nice dude” he smiles confidently and Oli looks back at him, finding him engaged in a heated conversation with Matty but with his eyes constantly fleeing towards her. Frank nudges her annoyingly. “What happened in London, huh?”

“Not enough things”

Frank snorts. “You know, I kind of ship you two”

“Really, Frank?” she laughs.

  She looks back to where Harry and Matty are chatting, her fuzzy mind blurring the two together. One of the things about Harry that enthralled her was how similar he is to Matty, they’re both outstandingly talented and charismatic and desperate to be validated by everyone around them, it just happens that she knew Matty first and spent more time with him – which in no way means she doesn’t want the same thing with Harry. In fact, she’s quite looking forward to their tour.  

“What have you got, kid?” Matty asks.

“I’ve got a bit I’ve been thinking about, it’s got a hard rock sound to it” Harry explains, pulling another chair for himself and letting Frank sit on the arm of it. “When I was auditioning for the X-Factor, I eavesdropped on a girl calling someone, she was very worked up and she literally screamed on the top of her lungs: ‘I’m having your baby and it’s none of your business’”

“Oh... that is brutal!” Matty gasps.

“Every now and then I remember that ‘cause it’s such an unusual thing to say”

“Totally!”

“And I kind of made a tiny story for that, and it sounds like a... bop... bop-bop... bop-bop bop... and it builds like dun dun dun dun du-du-du-du-dun!”

“Alright, I like that” Olivia says as she comes around with a guitar strapped around her neck.

  They spend hours talking about it. When he pitched it he had no pretensions about it actually developing into a song, but watching them get all excited about it makes him feel bad for not being able to release it. He likes it when Olivia looks at him with a hint of expectation, when she wants to figure out a harmony, and with awe, when he presents a good solution. It makes him comfortable to bring all sorts of ideas up. It’s all working out fine until-

“Come on you fuckers, we’re gonna play a game!” George hugs Matty and Harry by the shoulder and forces them to a circle around the coffee table.

“It’s bottle time- Gina for fuck’s sake, take the coke out of here” Frank wipes a straight line of powder over a girl with electric pink bangs. “This is a family home!”

“What’s the game, Frank?” Matty asks over the chatter.

“It’s just a simple truth or dare: I’ll spin the bottle, we’ll take rounds asking, if it points at you, you’ll answer. Everything’s allowed under God’s eyes, and if you don’t want to answer you take a shot and answer another question” he explains.

“Alright, let’s do it” Olivia hypes up, taking a seat beside George.

“I want to start” Matty asks, taking the bottle and spinning it. It points towards Harry. “Ooh... alright Mr. One Direction” Harry feels a tingle down his spine, worrying about what the many ways he could probably embarrass him in front of Oli, “...are you a virgin?”

And just as predicted, Harry blushes like a tomato. “I’ll take the shot”

“Come on! Not answering it is kinda like answering it” Matty protests while Harry shoves the shot down his throat. “Fuck, alright... asking for a friend now, out of pure curiosity... do you dig boys?”

“I think I dig boys and girls” he slurs and Matty points at him excitedly.

“I got you mate” Harry points back humorously.

“Next one, chop chop!” George takes the bottle and spins it at the sunglass girl. “Fiona, my dearest... I dare you to take your shirt off until the end of the game”

“Fucking pervert” she curses, but slides her green buttons shirt past her head and shows off her tits with piercings on both nipples. “Like what you see?” she caresses them, displaying them for George.

“You know I do”

“Ugh, get a room you two” Olivia begs, taking the bottle and spinning it. Harry’s anxiety takes the best of him as he hopes it will point at him but it ends up on George. “Alright, it’s an order now, go get a room”

  George and Fiona smile at each other and leave out the door stepping over the coffee table. The rest of the players throw chips and cards on them, almost like people do with rice at weddings.

While they look away, Frank spins the bottle. Right when it’s about to reach Olivia, it stops at Matty. “Alright big boy, what do you want?”

“I want some weed actually”

“Alright, pull it” Franks pulls out a blunt, lights it and drags it longly before leaning across the table. Harry watches curiously as Matty presses his lips over Frank’s and pulls his smoke in a practical but also sensuous way, specially when Matty cups the back of Frank’s neck and press a kiss on his lips. Everyone gathered around starts to cheer and tease, only Olivia expresses a loud ‘yikes!’. Feeling the heat rising, Matty takes advantage of his proximity and licks his nose. “Aw, gross!” they laugh.

  The bottle spins another handful of times, and Harry becomes overly comfortable with his drunken head spinning around. He’s laughing at something Gina says when George comes back with Fiona, his neck peppered with bruises when Harry hears someone tap the table before him. Matty is asking and the bottle is pointing at Olivia but they’re both looking at him.

“What?” Harry frowns, heat rising to his face.

“Since they just vacated the room, I dare you” he tells Olivia, “to take Harry over there and do something unspeakable to him”

Olivia narrows her eyes at him. “You little-“

“Define unspeakable” Harry intervenes and her jaw drops.

“Something you wouldn’t dare to share with the rest of this table”

“If you say so” she tugs Harry’s hand and gets up, stopping only to pull her panties down and throw them in Matty’s face. He gasps as she hides not in the room but in the studio, for acoustic purposes...

  Olivia shuts the door, keeping the room dark except for the outdoor light that peeks through the windows. As he’s about to ask what she plans to do she pushes him over the sofa, pulling the hem of her dress up and straddling his lap before kissing him passionately. He doesn’t process it immediately but when he realizes he’s kissing the same girl he’s been dreaming about for weeks he cups her cheeks and deepens the kiss, feeling her press against him through the fabric of his pants. He tries to pull her down harder by the hips but she stops him.

“Is this your first time?” she asks with a hint of excitement.

He rolls his eyes, annoyed at the persistence but also flattered by her interest. “Yes”

“Oh my... is this okay for you? You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to-“ she’s cut by his lips on hers.

“This is more than ok” he whispers through parted lips, his kisses sliding down to her neck, over her covered breasts. In the heat of the moment, she begins to grind on him, feeling him grow harder with the motion as he smashes his face against her collar. “I’ve been thinking ‘bout you ever since London, the things I would’ve done if-”

“Why don’t you do them now?” she questions, tipping his chin toward her.

“I thought you’d choose what to do to me”

“I’m taking your V card, that’s unspeakable enough” he chuckles as she runs her fingers down his neck and chest, getting him to look down at his heaving upper body when she comes back to the serious tone. “But it’s your first time, you draw the line”

“Got it” he attaches their lips once again ferociously, making her almost fall out of his lap. His hands move to cup her breasts, giving them a fascinated squeeze before she pushes them out of the way and pulls his shirt over his head. With that gone, she cups the back of his neck and tugs on his hair, making him crane his head backwards as she leans her kisses on the column of his neck. He takes her hips in both hands and grinds upwards, missing the friction she had been creating before all the chatter. He slides his jeans up her crease, wishing he would just bury his twitching erection inside her already. He loses control and grinds too hardly making her whimper, the sound of it so impure he keeps doing it just to hear her cries again. So he takes two finger towards her lips, giving her the hint to take them and suck them, which is more arousing than he thought would be, specially with her looking straight into his eyes as she does it. When he pulls them out, he takes the wet fingers between her legs and strokes her naked crease, causing her to gasp at the contact. “Good thing you took them off...”

“Shut up” he does.

  Taking her queue, he toys with her folds, knowing more than she expected for his first time. He flickers her clit teasingly, causing her to part her lips as a wave of pleasure takes over her whole body. Her nails clutch his shoulders, leaving semi-circles on his skin as her head falls in delight, giving Harry complete access to her neck. She bites her lips in expectation when his long wet fingers slide inside her teasingly at first, but then gently fill her up. When he curls his fingers she melts, cuddling her dozy head on his neck where she whimpers incoherently, clutching to his body hot against hers. He moves so good, so deliciously, at the same time pleasing and leaving her wanting – no, craving for more.

“Harry” she cries, “come on...”

“What do you want?”

“I want you to fuck me” she captures his growling lips. Harry unburies his fingers from her and frantically attempts to unbutton his jeans with her help, undressing enough of it for his erection to spring up freely against his stomach. She climbs him again, causing him to look up while she reaches down and slides his length inside her warm cunt just halfway, taking a moment to adjust to him before pushing it all the way to his base. His head falls back in ecstasy as he feels her walls stretching around him, pulling her hips harder down and her body flush against his naked chest.

  He’s bigger than she thought he’d be and at first it hurts, a lot. She lets him know by taking control of the movement and making it very slow and languid, barely pulling his shaft out at all. He reaches beneath her skirt and grasps her butt cheeks hardly, putting all that held back tension in his grip and making her sit down on him harder. Suddenly he jerks up in a spasm but instead of pain she feels overwhelming pleasure. He does it again and she moans, that pleasure reaching her whole body. From there he takes control of the rhythm and thrusts up into her at an ever-growing pace.

  He holds her in his arms and lays her on the couch, assuming another position and thrusting rapidly inside her. She laces her legs around his waist and lets him wreak havoc on her, shutting her eyes and taking in all the pleasure he has to offer. She loves this position, him leaning over his forearms and his body covering all of hers, almost as if he’s guarding her. When they get tired of the position, he tries to switch it up but they end up on the floor, trying to continue with her on her fours. He fucks her relentlessly from behind, taking full control of her hips as each thrust causes her fall harder on his length. It’s mind-numbing having her so tight around him, her body on fire because of what he’s doing between her legs. But having her on fours doesn’t feel right, he can’t see her face.

“Hey, come here” he pulls her by the waist and sits on his knees so he can pulls her to sit over him. “That’s better” he grins smugly,  turning her face to kiss her lips.

“If I knew you could do that I would've fucked you back in London” she teases, not wanting to inflate his ego so much but he deserves some credit.

“I would’ve...” he sighs, feeling his length accommodate inside her as she takes a moment to breath, "I would've too"

  As her head falls to his shoulder, he pulls one of her dress straps down revealing one of her breasts. The sensation of it on his palm is nothing compared to the amount of intimacy it took for him to get here, holding her like this, buried this deep inside her.  

“Don’t get shy now” she pulls the other strap down revealing her whole upper body. She guides his other hand to cup her tit and squeeze it, “Touch me” she begs him to squeeze harder and pull on her nipples causing her to arch her back.

  She takes that same hand and guides it down her stomach, past her navel and right where she wants him the most. One touch on her clit and he can feel how wet she is as it soaks his fingertips, making her cry on his ears. She rolls her hips to his touch and he almost bursts right then and there with the smallest bit of friction, but then she starts ridding him faster, harder, taking his length out and welcoming it in her warmth. He holds her hips, pushing her to keep the rhythm as he’s few strokes away from coming on her.

“Harry, I’m close...” he faintly hears and so he keeps it up, helping her bounce on his lap ever so quickly until her walls twitch and clasp around him hard, her whole body shakes and with one last cry she collapses over his chest.

  She heaves, still making unholy noises. He assumes she needs a break, but one glance down at her pretty face, on that pretty neck – not to mention her sweet cunt dripping so hard it wets him down to his feet –, it’s driving him crazy, he can’t stop now. He continues to stroke her folds and nuzzle her cheek, meaning to drain every ounce of pleasure she can give him. Without another word, he resumes the barrage. He reaches for her lips and kisses her passionately, gaining enough speed to feel the first traces of an orgasm washing over him.

He panics. “Can I-“

“Yes! Yes! I'm on the pill!” she cries and feels him burst hot strings inside her, thrusting erratically until falling completely limp.

  He struggles to breathe, holding her flush against him. This time he rests his back on the sofa and cuddles her in his embrace, she feels so good in his arms. As his heart rate slows down, he comes to the realization that Olivia was the first woman to ever have sex with him, that beautiful woman that once felt so ridiculously unreachable actually made love to him – what he just felt wasn’t only physical, he felt like his mind and heart intertwined with hers for a moment. Olivia sighs, holding his arms around her closer and kissing the hand that’s closer to her reach.

“Not bad for a first time” she mocks, “you alright?”

“You’re kidding, right?” he chuckles lethargically, pulling her braids off her shoulder so he can kiss her cheeks. She turns in his embrace and engages in a playful, passionate kiss.

They break the kiss and rest for a bit in that position, feeling the heat irradiating from each other. It feels so intimate, so good she wants more. “Fuck me this good again and I might keep you”

“Will I get the chance?”

“That depends” she licks her lips in a tantalizing way. He raises a brow and kisses her languidly again, reaching down to where their sex is still connected and stroking the spot she likes best. Their lips part in a sigh with her whimpering within breathing distance.

“I could do this all night” he insists, feeling himself growing inside her once more.

“Do you want to come to my place?”

“Really? I mean, yes!” he frowns, genuinely elated from her initiative.

“Then finish this and put your pants on”

  They exit the studio room to find the living area in absolute mayhem: Fiona and Gina are fighting over something while Matty and Frank make out wildly on the couch, George is crying on the ground with a lit cigarette next to Adam, a member of Matty’s band who hadn’t been around earlier, who’s just cutting pieces of fruit on a bowl. It’s chaos.

“Hey Adam” she greets him while looking at the room. "Where's Ross?"

"Couldn't handle it, hi there" he waves at Harry.

"Hello"

“You guys want some kiwis?” he offers the bowl. "It's all we've got, it's that or coke"

“Hm... yeah, I'll take it” she takes a couple slices and walks holding Harry’s hand behind her, the wild and impulsive urges staying behind as they hit the cold air of New York City.

<< Previous | Next >>

Masterlist

[histrionic-dragon]

Google Says WHAT?! --A mini-fic

I’ve been reading the Hundred-Year Playlist series by the amazing @girlbookwrm and also creeping on other people’s comments on the story, because that’s something I do with stories I like. @girlbookwrm mentioned, in one of the comments-conversations, that if you Google “queer 1930s Brooklyn” you get Steve Rogers fan research on the first page of results. I may have swooped in to say that Tony’s reaction if he accidentally saw that, in-universe, would be hilarious, and then-- this happened.

It’s a bit more serious than I originally intended it to be, but still has some levity to it.

Story below the cut and maybe eventually on Ao3.  Takes place a few days after CA:TWS, because who better than Tony to sift through the SHIELD/Hydra data dump?

“Really, sir,” said JARVIS, “I must strongly advise you to go to bed.”

“Great,” Tony said absently. “You’ve given me the advice. Now you can feel good about it.”

“Sir . . . .”

Tony pushed his chair back from the table, spinning a little as it drifted smoothly across the lab until he was juuuust within reach of the countertop where he’d left his coffee. He picked it up and took a sip. Not too cold, yet.

Almost, but not quite.

“Look, JARVIS,” he said out loud, “I’m not working with fire, I’m not operating heavy machinery, I’m not actually making anything. I’ve even slept in the last 24 hours. Why are you on my case?”

“It is the total amount of sleep you’ve had in the past five days that concerns me, sir.”

Tony snorted.

“. . . and your reactions to some of the information uncovered by the Black Widow’s information dump at the beginning of that time.”

Tony put his mug down on the counter. It made a sharp clack sound. Not like the normal ting or click-thump of putting down a drink--this was loud, attention-grabbing, the sound of ceramic hitting on granite countertop just barely not hard enough to break.

Great. Now his coffee was a drama queen.

“Look,” he said. “It is entirely in character for Obie to have been paid off by someone to do what he did, and he needed sketchier contacts than Stark Industries has to get in with the Ten Rings. Might as well have been Hydra. I honestly could have put that together if I’d had time to stop and think before everybody I know called me up and asked me to start going through those files, it just rattled me that I didn’t and then that came up, okay? Honestly, I’m kind of surprised Rhodey didn’t think of it first and warn me when he called,” he added thoughtfully, “except I’m pretty sure Rhodey hasn’t slept in a lot longer than I haven’t. --Shouldn’t you be bugging him?”

“Colonel Rhodes is not my priority,” JARVIS said mildly. “And I believe he would agree with my assessment of your needs in this situation--as would Ms. Potts, who has repeatedly contacted me from the construction site in Malibu to inquire as to your well-being. I would hate to tell her you’re neglecting yourself.”

Tony stopped scowling at his lukewarm coffee and its noisy mug and moved the scowl to the ceiling. Technically JARVIS’s sensors were at least as dense at mid-wall and in the baseboards, but JARVIS would know what he meant. “You,” he said, “are a cheating cheater who cheats.”

“You did build me, sir.” JARVIS’ voice was extra-bland. He only did that when he was very pleased with himself. Tony sure as hell hadn’t made that part of him.

Artificial intelligences. They grew up so fast.

“Fine,” Tony said after a moment. “I won’t go down that particular rabbit hole anymore tonight, alright? No more looking to see how long Obie was working for Hydra, no more sniffing around what happened when—” His hands clenched tight enough to hurt and he made himself relax.

“I won’t follow up on the ‘was Obadiah Stane involved in the car crash’ angle until tomorrow. In fact, I won’t look at the secret files anymore. Just give me a few more minutes to finish up a couple trains of thought about other things from them, and then I’ll call Pepper myself, okay?”

“If you must, sir.”

~

Tony really was being good, dammit. He didn’t follow up on anything he thought could be related to Obie or his parents’ death. He didn’t go looking for anything new and unpleasant. He didn’t do anything but follow the money, because Hydra couldn’t have come out of nowhere. Once they got into the US government, sure, money wouldn’t be an issue, but how do you get your secret little evil organization off the ground? Couldn’t exactly ask around for angel investors.

No, all he was doing now was hunting for cash. He was going to figure out just how far down the rabbit holes went (the hydra-holes? Something something Hercules burying the immortal head under a rock and the other heads grew two more unless you torched them and arson would cover up a lot of records of failed operations but not all of them and THAT was interesting funding-wise, because to extend the Greek monster metaphor and borrow from that one D&D comic, you actually would get lightheaded and pass out if you had too many heads and too little blood supply to deliver oxygen and so they needed some stable sources of income in this heads-are-evil-operations-blood-is-money metaphor and again, once you were embedded in a government organization, you could totally just use that funding, but they weren’t like that to begin with and if you were going to get started as mostly outside a government operation in the US but needed the ties to get in, you needed money, and leverage, and that meant organized crime, and that meant—)

Long story short, he was looking up the history of various criminal organizations in the US and trying to figure out which ones might have been started by Hydra, or which other, older organizations they might have taken over or just steered in the ways they wanted. That meant reading about, among other things, the Mafia and their various sources of revenue going back to--based on what he knew about business and networking and family ties and inheritance and seriously, fuck you, Obie--about a generation and a half before the official, formal rise of Hydra as a Nazi science organization, to see if that would connect up with ties made even later when Hydra people came over in the fifties. So basically, large-scale criminal enterprises from the early 1900s on.

Maybe it took a little more than a few minutes.

On the other hand, it was a particularly fascinating more-than-a-few-minutes. People had gotten homicidal over really weird shit in the dark ages. Street gangs beating up people until they sold a different newspaper--now that was aggressive marketing. Tony still hated pop-up ads--Stark Ad Annihilator was the best adblock software on the market for a reason, that reason being that Tony had been bored and hopped up on decongestants one day and--anyway. Still better than getting stabbed to death. And then of course there were the hilariously inventive ways people had come up with of making, smuggling, and secretly serving booze during Prohibition, and that was probably where he really ought to be looking if he was going to follow the money. But there were all these interesting little spinoffs, like—

“The mob owned a lot of gay bars?” Tony said out loud, frowning. “What, like—’da boss says love is love. Dis is an equal-opportunity institution’?” He snickered. (It was not a giggle.) “That’s probably too funny to be accurate.”

“Indeed, sir,” JARVIS said. “The article you are about to click on reports, in summary, that the mafia had a great deal of expertise in running illegal nightclubs. When Prohibition ended, some mob bosses saw an opportunity to maintain this revenue stream.”

“That makes a decent amount of sense. Not very funny, but—” He waggled his hand. “Could see da business sense.” He snickered again.

“Quite,” JARVIS replied. “Sir, I must remind you—”

“Yeah, yeah. Just a few more minutes, J.” Tony glanced up briefly. “Promise.”  

“I will hold you to it, sir.”

Tony nodded absently— “sure, whatever”--already looking through a few other databases. The proto-SHIELD organization had been based in New York City for a while--with other offices elsewhere--before its official rebranding and move to DC, which meant he was looking for people with behind-the-scenes pull in NYC in the fifties.

“JARVIS, if you’re mother-henning, help me out and open up a few Google searches.”

“Sir?” JARVIS sounded marginally offended.

“I need crappy, surface-level information. Broad strokes. Your searches are too good. Give me anything they’ve got for searches on banking, politics, real estate, whatever pseudoscience or spiritualism was big at the time, and hell, why not, the LGBT community--all of those--in the twenties, the thirties, and the forties, and then take those results and show me anything that cross-references with our SHIELD people of interest in the fifties or later.”

A pause.

“Done, sir.”

“Anything good?”

“A few more data points to cross-reference with other sources. We may have the beginnings of a paper trail on the history and extent of Mr. Stane’s involvement with the organization, related to his business ties before Stark Industries, but—”

“Skip that,” Tony ordered. He wasn’t going to go into that. Not tonight. Not until he had everything he needed to chart out the whole festering shit-show and deal with it all at once.

“As you wish, sir. Two, perhaps three, of the prominent city council members at the time may have had ties to Hydra, most likely unknowingly. A housekeeper’s murder may have been precipitated by something she overheard rather than her affair with her employer, although the perpetrator may be the same woman as originally suspected. There may be more behind the apparent suicide of a SSR agent and a deadly riot at a movie theater than was originally suspected as well--though in those cases the revelation is the extent of the foul play, not its presence. There are also a few cases I have flagged as false positives. Would you like to review those?”

Tony stood up and stretched, his spine popping. Ow. “Sure,” he said, yawning, “they’ll be funny. And then I’ll call Pepper and go to bed,” he added, rolling his eyes, “so don’t say anything.”

“That is wonderful news, sir.”

The false-positive Google searches appeared as holographic screens around him. The first one was about a shady real estate deal that Hydra clearly hadn’t had a hand in, because the fact they didn’t own a particular piece of land later was a real hindrance to them, so that was good. The triumph of run-of-the-mill white-collar crime over evil. Or something.

The next few were restaurant reviews, for some reason. About all they proved was that foody talk from seventy years ago was just as weird as foody talk today, except people back then had really really liked preservatives as much as they really really hated them now.

Another search result was a Buzzfeed article: “17 of Howard Stark’s most hilarious parking tickets.” Apparently his dad had had a bad habit of just leaving cars lying around once he’d modified them with anti-theft mechanisms. One had sprayed a cloud of skunk musk at the officer leaving the ticket. Judging by the comments, people thought this was hilarious. They were all missing the point of the collateral stink-damage to bystanders and nearby cars. Tony could do it better than his dad ever had. Tony could do better in his sleep.

That left a sour taste in his mouth. --His brain? His mouth tasted awful, come to think of it, like the stale coffee now gone stone-cold at his elbow and too long without sleep, but that wasn’t the point. He needed mind Mentos, was the point. Next false positive.

(this is the actual search result!)

Tony started cackling.

“Are you alright, sir?” JARVIS asked.

“Yeah,” Tony said, clicking on the flagged article. “Yeah, I’m fine. What, this came up because of—?”

“Confluence of a known Hydra target and the search term ‘queer 1930s Brooklyn.’”

“Like the rainbow mafia, that makes sense when you think about it.” Tony shook his head. “Oh man, I’m gonna tell Cap that someone’s turned their history project on him into the history of Grindr.”

“Sir?”

“He blushes like a lobster. This’ll be the best. Thank you for this, J, you’ve made my night.”

“Are you going to leave the laboratory at any point in the near future, sir?”

“Yes, Mom, as soon as I read this actual article because even though it’s probably not really about Grindr, I’m sure there’ll be plenty in there I can embarrass Steve with. . . .  --Oooh, excellent subtitle. ‘Mr. Rogers’ Gayborhood,’ I’ll have to . . . .”

He trailed off absently as he realized what he was reading. “Huh. --JARVIS, how deep in the search results was this buried?”

“About halfway up the first page, sir.”’

“Huh.”

“Are you alright, sir?”

“Fine, it’s just--really good historical research, kind of light tone, but actually . . . probably not a horny undergrad messing with a history prof on a paper assignment. And the comments are . . . people are agreeing with . . . There are historical documents here.  --OK, real search engine time, JARVIS: is there some sort of, like, scholarly and/or Internet message board consensus that Captain America is gay and I missed it?!”

“It appears to be a topic of heated debate, actually,” JARVIS replied, “the foremost proponents of which are adamant about it not being a joke.”

“Okay,” Tony said, “I know about the clone conspiracy theorists and the Russian conspiracy theorists and the weird cultists and the Reagan administration snake-people conspiracy theorists, and I know he does too. How does Steve not know about this already?”

“He does, sir.”

Tony made a wheezing, squeaking noise, torn between hilarity and incredulity.

“The Captain has apparently been approached on occasion--in person, informally, and inconspicuously, most often by people who have written scholarly articles on the subject—”

“He has?”

“--and has refused to give any meaningful reply one way or another, other than that it’s not really anyone else’s business.”

Tony blinked. He was familiar with that bland kind of shutdown. It did not go well with the picture of flustered, wrong-footed Cap that his head kept trying to give him. He got flustered when he didn’t know what was going on. He got calm and blank and authoritative when he did.

“His refusal to answer questions has been especially marked when asked about his relationship with James Barnes.”

Tony blinked again, reached out on autopilot, and took a gulp of his now definitely too cold and ugh ugh ugh awful coffee.

Once he’d finished gagging and had acknowledged that, yes, his mouth absolutely hated him and this was possibly worse than waking up hungover and tasting stale vomit because he had been sober and in control of his own behavior when he slugged that down, there were no excuses--once he was done with that little ritual of disgust, he frowned, then firmly swiped the article’s display off to one side. “Save that for tomorrow, J,” he said. “And start a new file. I’m getting to the bottom of this.”

“Are you certain that’s wise?”

“‘Is Cap into guys’ is a more fun mystery than ‘did a terrorist organization recruit my dad’s best friend to spike his drink or cut his brakes the night he died so he’d be out of their way,’ JARVIS,” Tony said heavily. “Let me have my fun.”

He might be imagining it, but he thought JARVIS sounded almost gentle when he said, “Of course, sir.”

***

CODA.

Tony had been asleep.

He knew he’d been asleep, and he knew he was awake now, and he wasn’t sure when he’d transitioned from sleeping to thinking or if he’d just woken up abruptly. It hadn’t been a nightmare. He was lying perfectly still, his heartbeat was regular, and he wasn’t sweating or anything. He was just lying in bed, awake, aware that he was awake, eyes open and staring at the ceiling.

“JARVIS,” Tony said.

“Yes, sir?”

“The guy Steve wouldn’t tell the Internet people about. That’s the same guy--that really weird message from Natasha . . . . ?”

“So it would appear.”

Tony thought for a minute.

“Well shit.”

“Aptly put, sir.”

Tony look at the ceiling some more.

“Merge the new folder I told you to make with the other one, the—”

“The folder entitled ‘Soviet Winter Reunion Tour or Something, Romanoff is Being Cryptic, Get Steve to Explain When He’s Conscious,’ sir?”

“Yeah, that one. Merge ‘em. Rename, uh, ‘Ancient History, Search and Rescue Edition.’ Mark it high priority.”

“Done, sir.”

“And JARVIS?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Send Pepper a bunch of flowers and see if you can maybe find an earlier flight for her to come home.”

[xadoheandterra]

Series: The Burning of Solheim Title: The Path Untrodden Fandom: Final Fantasy XV Chapters: I | II | III | IV | V | VI | VII | VIII | IX | X | XI | XII | XIII Characters: Prompto Argentum, Aranea Highwind, Ignis Scientia, Noctis Lucis Caelum, Cor Leonis, Gladiolus Amicitia Tags: 10 years older!Prompto, Prompto’s barcorde, Cor is the sane one, Noctis is a cat Summary:  Solheim was the height of civilization long enough that their ruins were ruins over 2000 years ago, and still had the power to function in the time of the King of Light. They should’ve realized something was very wrong the minute Prompto remarked on the lights being on, and yet no one was home.

Prompto rolled onto his side and vomited.

Clinically the signs of a concussion were there; nausea, the blinding headache and distant ringing in his ears, and—oh, he couldn’t forget this one—disorientation. Prompto had no idea where he was except probably in Steyliff, and probably not anywhere near Ardyn. In fact, despite the haze of headache and deja-vu that niggled at the faint end of memory, Prompto could recall a time much like this before wherein he’d lost a tie to a Monarch and the faintest recollection that Ardyn—Ardyn would be dead in a scant few years. Prompto couldn’t really recall right now how he knew that.

Prompto breathed through his nose and shuffled away from the vomit. He tried to get to his feet, succeeded, but stumbled for a moment with his balance upended. He squinted—a light somewhere, bright and foreboding, lit up the chamber he found himself in. The Pilgrimage chamber, if he remembered right. The one under the waters of the Vesperpool that signified the path into the Beyond to ancient Solheim practices.

For a brief moment Prompto debated an elixir or potion—he kept a few in pockets on his person out of habit these days, from when he lacked the tie to the Lucis Caelum magic—but Prompto also remembered a fair few of Ardyn’s lectures on how not to treat certain injuries. Elixir’s and potions could cause more damage with a concussion, right?

“Better not risk it,” Prompto mumbled, and winced at the lights. Artificial, he noted faintly. When had he last seen artificial lights like this, so bright they drove the daemons away? He put that out of mind for the moment and glanced at the ground and—yes, the panel.

Prompto knelt and stared as best he could with vision that swam and attention that wanted to drift every which way, at the words on the panel. Perhaps he could figure out just where the blasted thing sent him—that was always an option, right? He didn’t have his notes, and something twisted in his gut at the memory that he stored them in the armiger for safe keeping, but Prompto also had an impeccable memory. He just—needed—to figure this out—

“Hey! Who the fuck are you?”

Prompto yelped and flailed forward at the sudden voice. He fought down the urge to vomit again as the nausea reared its ugly head even as he crashed on top of the panel and braced himself to be dragged away—except, not. He felt around it and frowned—the subtle hum to the thing was gone. Had it fully lost power? That should be fairly impossible right? Solheim was a fount of magical and technological innovations that lasted well beyond the civilizations fall. Feasibly it’d have to be thousands of years before the power source could fail to reach whole sections of tombs and temples and—

“I said who the fuck are you?!”

“Jeez, no need to yell,” Prompto groaned and rolled himself over. He squinted and tried to place the face—she wasn’t dressed in the typical armor and accoutrements Prompto had grown used to over ten years. Actually, what she wore felt vaguely familiar—like the shirt Prompto had on when he arrived in Steyliff all those years ago. Hadn’t there been a woman in the party then? What was her name? Prompto hissed between his teeth and curled forward and—yeah, no use stopping now.

Prompto threw up.

“Thanks,” Prompto croaked as Aranea handed him a cup of water and some saltines to chow down on. He’d vomited at least three more times after the first two, all of which happened as she dragged his dazed and concussed ass out of Steyliff and into the night sky.

The night sky looked weird to Prompto. There were less stars, more miasma in the dark then he found himself used to. Vesperpool with Ardyn had beauty at night, and while night was dangerous because of daemons there were ways to enjoy the dark without the risk. Here Aranea’s people had artificial lights so bright they hurt placed strategically around Steyliff and the Imperial dropship she rode in on.

How long had it been since he’d seen an Imperial dropship? Prompto blinked into his glass of water. He could remember traveling with Noct and Gladio and Ignis through the wilds of Leide and Cleigne. They took on hunts for the people for protection—monsters and daemons alike—and on occasion an Imperial dropship would come hurtling through and dump a series of MT’s and Prompto would scream—

Imperial’s above us!

—but he’d grown used to travel by just chocobo and no car. He’d grown used to not having to fear enemies from above, but rather those that snuck within the foliage. He’d grown used to fighting men and not soulless automata. Prompto wondered what this made him now; he had blood on his hands from protecting Ardyn and that—would the others like that? How long had he been gone?

Aranea huffed from where she leaned against the dropship wall while she watched Prompto fall into contemplation and sip at the water and nibble at the saltines. She let him have his peace if only because the concussion really fucked him over and she knew how concussions went. When it seemed more like Prompto was himself she sighed loudly to catch his attention.

“You mind telling me what you were doing in there?” Aranea demanded.

Prompto pursed his lips. “I…” he fumbled for his words and looked down at his hands. Then he mumbled, “Aranea,” like an epiphany hit him and Aranea blinked. She hadn’t given her name. “Aranea! Oh, that’s right.”

“Okay,” Aranea drawled, but Prompto barreled on.

“You were with us when we went searching for Mythril,” Prompto said, and his voice got this tone of wistful enthusiasm. “Called us out on our ‘shitty disguises’ and all! Fuck I can’t believe how long its been!” Prompto laughed lightly, then frowned. “Wait—how long has it been?”

Aranea frowned. “Blondie?” she questioned, and when she gained a nod that quickly turned a face green enough that Prompto stopped, Aranea sighed explosively. “Well, shit.”

“Sums it up quite nice,” Prompto muttered. “Solheim shit is fucking weird.” Prompto scrubbed at his goatee. “That fucking panel dumps you into a different time, and it’d have to be a different space too with the planet rotation to take into effect. Plus the differences in ages and then you also have to account for the language barrier that might arise—maybe that’s what the language script meant?” For a moment Prompto devolved into quiet muttering to himself before Aranea cleared her throat and he glanced back up at her sheepishly.

“I have no idea what you just said,” Aranea told him bluntly.

“Sorry.”

Aranea waved him off and slumped down with a sigh. “You’ve been missing for a week, blondie.” She watched the way he blinked, and then tilted his head in a confused sort of way that left her chuckling because yeah, this was definitely the blondie she’d met with the Prince and his entourage.

“A week? But that—perhaps the temporal displacement is not entirely accurate?” Prompto mumbled. “What could interfere with that mechanic of the system though? Or perhaps it’s the rotation—needs to be in the right rotation to drop you off at the right space?” Aranea cleared her throat again and Prompto flushed pink.

“Your boys are going to be pickled pink to know you’re not dead,” Aranea told him, then paused. “I’d tell ‘em, but I lack their numbers.”

Prompto sighed. “No trouble. They’re probably already in Altissia.”

Aranea scoffed. “Last I heard they were still in Lestallum, and that was a day ago. Stopped looking for Mythril after you up and vanished.”

That surprised Prompto, he fiddled with the cup in his hands and his head down. He’d spent time getting over his insecurities with Gil and Ardyn, but the thought of Noct and the others—they were his best friends—upset that he vanished? Upset enough that they put their plans on hold? Prompto couldn’t fathom it.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take you to the city proper so you can search them out,” Aranea said. “I’ve been scouring this place for Mythril as an apology.”

Prompto scrubbed a hand over his face. “Don’t bother. I’ve got plenty.” Without thought he dipped his mental fingers into the armiger and tugged out three glittering pieces of mythril to show off. He banished them back into the familiar cold blue of Noct’s magic, and then froze stiff a second later. He could feel Noct’s magic. He could feel Noct. He could access Noct’s armiger! Ten years and Prompto missed the cold warmth of Noctis, the way it suffused through him and nestled near his heart. He found some solace with Ardyn, but the feel of them were like night and day. Noctis burned cold, but bright, like a nice breeze in the summer time that came off a fishing dock. Ardyn burned hot, like the comfort of the sun on a lounge chair and the heat of the desert but in the way that wasn’t stifling.

A second later Prompto realized he could still feel Ardyn’s magic nestled next to Noct’s and that—that left him breathless. Ardyn should be dead two-thousand years over and the magic gone, but it rested there like a fresh bond; Noct’s too felt new and fresh and whole. It felt like the Oaths he’d taken had dropped into the void, and then slammed back home where they belong the minute he paid attention to it. Prompto breathed in heavily and forced the panic away, well aware of Aranea’s attention on him.

“I’ll pay you in Mythril if you take me to Lestallum,” Prompto said as he pushed aside thoughts of Ardyn and why, and instead reached mental fingers into Noct’s side of the magic and tugged out his phone. “And don’t’ worry about telling the guys; I’ve got Iggy’s number.”

They agreed to meet at a neutral location on Ignis’ demand, and Prompto couldn’t blame them. He could remember how paranoid the Nifs made them; how hunted Noctis and them were for the mere fact that they survived the destruction of Insomnia. Prompto could remember it more like a dream, something that happened for a few short months ten years ago. Prompto’s weariness and paranoia stemmed from more immediate threats that he discovered in the past. Bandits on the road were always a concern, and daemons at night—and then there were the Scourge infected, half-turned or ill and the dangers they represented themselves.

Neutral ground really was best for the first meeting since the mess in Steyliff.

Prompto hopped off the bird he’d rented from where Aranea dropped him off and scratched just under her beak. He murmured a soft goodbye for the time being and turned around to look at Old Lestallum and sigh. They said the Crows Nest for a start, and honestly Prompto could do with a bite of food anyway so he turned toward the restaurant and jogged across the street.

The dinner didn’t have a lot of patrons today, probably due to the grey clouds hanging overhead, which suited Prompto just fine. He headed up to the counter and softly ordered some ‘Kenny’s Fries’, reached into Noct’s armiger, and tugged out the required gil from underneath the counter.

“Thanks!” Prompto cheered, turned around, and plopped himself down into one of the booths furthest away from the tipster to wait. With happy aplomb Prompto dumbed the fries into a mixture of ranch and ketchup and began to chow down with a closed eye groan of happiness. He missed fries. He missed Iggy’s cooking too.

Gods above Prompto missed a lot of things that he carefully stuffed away in the back of his mind these past ten years and—he struggled to stop himself from crying. Outside he could hear the Regalia purr into the parking space and the doors open. One of them slammed, and he could hear faint voices—someone yelling, Prompto thought, as he set his fries down and looked up.

For half-a-second Prompto saw a head of dark hair that he never thought he’d see again. It was messier than he was used to, and the slate blue eyes were brighter than he remembered, but time and distance often warped memory. Slowly Prompto slid out of the booth and stood to his feet, where Noctis turned and stared at him with wide eyes—and the next thing Prompto knew he felt the familiar cold-warmth of Noct’s light burst in his chest. Noctis wrapped arms around Prompto and hugged him close and—yeah, Prompto could feel the tears.

“H-Hey, buddy,” Prompto said, and his own voice trembled just a bit. “Miss me?”

Cor stared, and he couldn’t exactly help it because here was the one-year-old brat he’d dragged back to Insomnia some nineteen years previously, and fuck the kid wasn’t twenty anymore. The little blond monkey had new scars that Cor knew he hadn’t seen the last time he was with these boys, back at Keycatrich, and a goatee that took work beyond a few scant months. Cor knew full well that the boy didn’t even have the beginnings of facial hair yet so the goatee shouldn’t be a thing and fuck, of course Noctis and his retinue would get up to more insane bullshit than Regis ever tried.

He’d seen a lot, being part of Mors guard, and then shuffled off to Regis when Mors died. Cor saw too much sometimes; things that involved dead ghosts with honor-bound oaths that still roam the earth. The Blademaster had to be one of the most terrifying discovers of his life even if he blundered it under bravado, spite, fury, and a recklessness that really should’ve killed him long ago. To see Prompto now, to see the age worn on him, it felt like he’d stepped into one of Clarus’ fictional novels the bastard loved so much.

Cor hated to think it, but it also hurt how Ingis and Gladiolus worked to keep Noctis as far away from Prompto as possible. He wondered if he could see the blatant hurt that crossed the blonds face, the way his brows tilted down and his eyes grew a bit glassy. All this arguing and posturing started to get on his nerves, too. He wanted to punch something, or kill something—maybe take another stab at that bastard Blademaster—and those were dangerous thoughts in times like these so Cor breathed in deep, then breathed out, and stepped between the two groups before this argument got out of hand.

Instantly Ignis quieted and Prompto glanced to Cor. Cor eyed the way the boy straightened up and stood tall, and then looked over to Ignis and Gladiolus who were trying to keep Noctis from even so much as looking at the ‘stranger’ in their midst.

“Let me get a few things straight,” Cor said, and they kept attention raptly on him. “You claim that ten years have passed,” he looked to Prompto who nodded sharply. “We,” he looked to Ignis and Noctis and Gladiolus, “know that Prompto disappeared in the middle of Solheim ruins roughly one week ago.”

“One week, seven hours, fifteen minutes,” Ignis rattled off, and then flushed pink at the way Prompto gaped at him. “I was…” Ignis pursed his lips and looked away.

“Right,” Cor continued as if Ignis hadn’t displayed all of the weird shit that came with being the Hand of the King. Wesk used to do the same weirdness, once upon a time. If Cor hadn’t known Wesk to not have any kids, or interest in kids, or interest in women, or even a family then Cor might’ve questioned Ignis being a Scientia in the first place. Still he pressed on and glanced between the two.

“When Prompto disappeared your Majesty you said it felt like the bond broke?” Cor asked, and he saw the way Prompto went pale in understanding.

“Yeah,” Noctis said from behind Gladiolus, then grunted when Gladiolus pushed him back. “Except also not? It was weird, Cor, okay? Like something just…took it—but it’s back now! It’s back, and I can feel—it’s back….” Noctis’ voice broke faintly and Prompto grit his teeth and looked away.

“Noct…” Ignis muttered, but he didn’t turn around to comfort, and normally Cor would applaud the caution but now it felt just—stupid.

Cor sighed. “Right. Prompto?”

Prompto perked up. “Yes?”

“Show me your wrist.”

The room went deadly silent. Ignis glanced to Gladiolus, who shrugged and shook his head in confusion. Cor spared them only the briefest of glances before he returned his gaze solely to Prompto who froze, eyes wide. After a second one hand hesitantly went and grasped at Prompto’s right wrist, where the glove went up to cover half way onto the forearm. Prompto eyed Cor warily, lips pressed together as he breathed in slowly.

“Y-You know about that?” Prompto asked, voice soft and more timid than he’d heard out of the other man all day. Cor massaged the bridge of his nose.

“Yes, I know,” Cor said, then glanced at the group, then back to Prompto. Fuck it—at this rate keeping the whole mess a secret was worthless. Regis wasn’t King anymore, that fell to Noctis’ shoulders now, and secrets were messy and frustrating anyway. “I’m the one who brought you into Insomnia, Prompto.”

From the royal trio there was a stiffened spine and a hissed what and Prompto seemed to swallow heavily on his side. Cor could hear Noctis fighting with Gladiolus to get around and demand answers, but Ignis helped to contain the young King which was fine for now. Cor stepped up to Prompto.

“You know what it is?” Prompto asked.

“I do,” Cor said softly. “I can tell you more, but right now I need to see it.” Prompto chewed on his lip, then nodded, and carefully began to pull off his glove. Cor breathed a sigh of relief and snatched the wrist before Prompto could cover it with his other hand and began to study the barcode intensely.

N-iP01357 – 05953234

Cor breathed out heavily and let the wrist drop. “Alright.” He looked to Prompto and said, softly, “Thank you.” Prompto nodded slowly once and carefully tugged his glove back on to cover the mark. He refused to look at Cor which—okay, fine, Cor could deal with that. It wasn’t like Prompto was his brat, even if he’d snuck a check up on him frequently over the years after the kid got adopted into the Argentum household.

Cor turned and faced the three blockheads who finally stopped fighting with one another and stared, waiting, for Cor to say something or anything. Noctis had finally wormed his way to the front and had a bright scowl on his face, Ignis sported a bruise on his cheek, and it looked like Gladio got nicked by a blade of some sort. Cor wanted to mutter kids under his breath and wondered if this was how Regis felt all those years ago when fifteen year old Cor got pulled into being part of Mors’ guard.

Instead Cor uttered, “It’s him,” to the boys and watched how Ignis went slack and Gladiolus looked ready to protest, but both didn’t stop Noctis from the jump forward to wrap Prompto back into a hug. Cor sighed as Ignis stepped close to him, eyes wide with barely repressed hope.

“A-Are you sure, Marshal?” Ignis asked and Cor glanced to where Prompto laughed and Noctis had basically squirrelled the thirty year old man onto one of the beds, commandeered him as a pillow, and began to play Kings Knight on his phone with Prompto.

“A hundred percent,” Cor said eventually and Ignis looked ready to question that further until Gladiolus slapped the man on the shoulder and smiled tiredly.

“Go cuddle with the kids, Iggy,” Gladiolus said, graced the hard stare of Ignis with aplomb, and then watched how Ignis carefully approached the duo on the bed before Noctis dragged him down and they became a trio.

Cor glanced to Gladiolus who settled down into one of the chairs on the caravan and pulled out two bottles of booze from the armiger. Cor frowned, accepted one, and dropped into the other chair even as he said, “You know that is for storing weaponry and curatives, not alcoholic beverages.”

“Pff, like you guys didn’t do the same,” Gladiolus rumbled and Cor snorted. They both watched the three with equal parts fondness and Gladiolus with more regret than the man should have, but then Cor received the dressing down from Ignis just the same and that—that kind of stung.

Perhaps, Cor realized with a bitter thought, he hadn’t gotten over his impulsiveness as much as he’d like now in his forties. Not if he happily brought Gladiolus to the point of potential death and—yeah, he deserved the dressing down even if it came from a kid half his age. Cor sighed and sipped at the beer for a moment, felt himself relax into the sound of laughter and Ignis’ soft scolding or questions about why are your clothes in such terrible states of disarray, Prompto?

Eventually Gladiolus brought up what was on his mind. “The barcode?” he said, and kept his voice pitched low so that the squealing Prompto couldn’t hear him, nor Noctis over the sounds of sudden tickling and protests as Ignis demanded all of Prompto’s clothes so that he could repair them appropriately.

Cor glanced to Gladiolus. “You know about that?”

“Saw it once or twice.”

Cor nodded, and said, “Yeah. The barcode.”

[mlynar-nearl]

Commission: Movies

On Chorus, Church and Tali discover each other’s taste in movies.

This is a commission (referred to as a “request” in the ao3 link so as not to break archive rules) from @thestupidmeanone and @seekerwing4 (sorry Sam, for some reason tumblr wouldn’t let me ping you in the cross post. It’s free for both of you to reblog this!) 

My commissioning/requesting rules can be found here.

[On AO3]

Since the Neema got pulled down by the planet’s defenses, Tali has turned it into a small extension of the Chorusan armies for her purposes. With the surviving quarians, engineers and explorers by nature, it hasn’t been too hard to hook the systems up to share information and power with the bases. It keeps them from taking up too much space in the habitation areas the humans already have, and gives them a mostly secure space- though it could use a cleaning.

One thing she hasn’t entirely fixed, though, is how to get that AI that runs around the human wings- Church, they call him- to be able to beam into their side. She’d be wary, but she’s grown to like him. She supposes not all artificial intelligence are like the Geth, and the humans love him as if he was one of them, anyhow.

And, she supposes, them spending time together probably contributes to that too. But she swears she’s smart enough to keep it from going too far.

She wanders in to a room she knows Church likes one midmorning during their down-time- some kind of media room, she thinks.

“Church!”

There’s some sort of movie playing, actually- Tali sees something about a human man and woman looking at each other over dinner. It shuts off rapidly, and the AI materializes.

“Heeey, Tali! I, uh, fancy seeing you here. You need somethin’?”

“Well...first I’d like to know what that was.”

“Not important! Uh, what was it you needed?”

“I wanted to see if the holographic projectors would allow you to contact us on the Neema if someone needs us, but now I think I’m going to turn your vid back on.”

“Nope! Don’t need to do that! Really you don’t!”

Tali grabs the remote anyway. Church disappears in a heartbeat, and cuts power to the room.

Tali folds her arms.

“Alright, smart-ass. I’m going to figure out what you get up to in here in your spare time.”

The power is out, so Church, of course, doesn’t respond.

--

Tali tries to investigate Church’s search history, but to not much avail- it’s hard to counter-hack an artificial intelligence, after all. She’s spent much time dealing with the Geth, and it’s much like that, but with the opponent being slightly less skilled.

That doesn’t make it much easier.

“You know I’m going to figure out what you’re doing, right?”

Nothing.

Tali folds her arms. “If you’re going to act like that, I’m going to think what you’ve been doing in your spare time is way more risque than it really is.”

Church finally beams in, and he doesn’t need a face to express an annoyed frown. “It’s not porn, Tali.”

“Then tell me what it is.”

“...nah.” Church shrugs and winks out.

“Bosh’tet!” Tali snaps, before returning to her technology. She should have known better than to fall in with an artificial intelligence, let alone a human one. They’re nothing but trouble, especially this one.

In the wires of the base, Church laughs to himself at his own exit and then zips away to deal with something much less embarrassing.

--

Tali’s skipping through scenes of one of the only films they have downloaded (Chorus has no access to the extranet, and it gets old quite fast.) The human troopers have their human movies, which Tali hasn’t paid much attention to since they’re typically either sexual or annoying.

Church materializes on her shoulder. “What’s that?”

Tali almost jumps. Almost. She’s used to a little rat in the walls. “Did you lose the ability to knock when you became incorporeal, or were you just always so rude?”

“Ah, the UNSC never figured out how to invent silly things like doors, knocking’s for losers. Whatcha watchin?”

“We had four movies on the Neema when we were pulled into orbit,” Tali says, rolling her eye under her helmet. “Blasto saves Christmas, Bloody Mary, and Fleet and Flotilla, and only one of those is not hard to watch repeatedly.”

“Is it Bloody Mary?”

Tali snorts. “Shut up, Church.”

“So what’s that tolerable one about?”

“It’s a romance film.”

“Huh.” Church squints at the screen. “Sounds boring.”

“For a human level VI, you sound like you have no taste.”

“Maybe I do.” Church sounds like he’d be sticking out his tongue- if he had a face.

“Then go away if you find it so boring.”

“Nah, I’m gonna watch.”

“Sounds like someone likes romantic drama, even if he doesn’t want to admit it!”

“Do not, I’m just bored and it’s better than hanging out with Tucker.”

“Tucker wouldn’t know romance if it hit him in the helmet.”

Church snickers. “Yeah, of course not.”

--

It’s late at night when Tali is heading back towards the Neema’s wing from a meeting with the generals. She passes by the media room where she found Church about a week ago. He’s sitting in front of the screens that she’s pretty sure are meant to be for military business only, but everyone stopped paying attention to that a long time ago.

Plastered on the screen is a human movie. Tali doesn’t recognize it off the top of her head- it must be very old. She knows that Church contains knowledge much older than anyone else here- not just about technology and life but about movies.

“Church?”

“Tali! Hey, uh, fancy- fancy seeing you here.” The movie pauses. Tali tilts her head at it.

“What movie is this?”

“Haven’t seen anything from Earth before?”

“Not much. Most extranet media that reaches the flotilla is intergalactic, not ancient.”

“Ugh, don’t make me feel old. Tell that to everyone else so they feel old. In fact, tell Grif, so that he’ll lie on the floor and dissociate for an hour, that’ll be hilarious. Or Simmons. They have the best reactions.”

“Artificial mind time works much differently than organic. You may be old, your friends may not.” Tali shrugs. “I, for one, think you are old. Mentally, at the very least.”

“Alright, thanks for being a dick. You gonna sit down or what?”

“What’s the movie?”

“It’s an old earth movie called Atonement. Romantic drama.”

“I knew it!” Tali exclaims. “That’s what you were watching when I went to test your holographic interface, wasn’t it?”

“I plead the fifth.”

“What is it about?”

“World war two, forbidden love, all that jazz. Wanna watch?”

Tali laughs softly, and sits on one of the empty crates that work as chairs. “Is this what you do since you don’t sleep?”

“Whatever non-trashy movies I can dig up. Okay, maybe a little trashy. People had taste on Chorus once. I think everyone here with taste died.”

“And you’re here to save the masses from badly produced romantic comedies, drama, and the like?”

“You said it, not me.”

“What have I missed?”

“That chick and the main dude are in love, but it’s old-ass times, so her sister ratted them out for fucking, and now they’re both in deep shit.”

“An eloquent summary.”

“I do my best.”

“Alright, show me your earth movie. And after this, you will have to show me more of them. I can’t believe you’ve been keeping this from me.”

“It’s a secret worth keeping.”

[martinmcg]

FREEDOM

Gull idled. This was what she lived for, these moments high above Freedom, released from the city’s grasp. Pedalling just fast enough to keep her paracycle in the air, she circled and ignored the stall light fluttering orange on its console. The city span slowly around her, but Gull was not part of it.

Even here where the black towers of the corporations pressed against the dome’s sharply sloping roof, she could glimpse The Elle through the city’s artificial canyons. The needle at the heart of Freedom rose from Rhaeticus’s floor to the dome’s roof. Close up it was too large to comprehend, it was overwhelming, but from out here, on the edge, it seemed slender and graceful.

Lifting off her goggles, she twisted her head and stretched to look upwards to the point where The Elle met the top of the dome and passed through. It glowed, sunlight reflecting off its smooth white walls, throwing light into the shadows between the towers. It lifted Gull’s heart. The Elle was the only way out of Freedom. The Elle was escape.

Charlie’s plink-plink chime dragged Gull’s attention back to business. Confirmation had been received. Gull looked down and saw the delivery platform lowering, like an ancient drawbridge, below her. She pushed forward and the paracycle’s nose dipped.

Charlie’s carbon-fibre skeleton groaned softly as they picked up speed. Gull smiled, patting the cycle’s side. Charlie could take it. Gull pedalled harder into the dive, struts straining as she pushed closer to the cycle’s limits.

The wind ripped at her clothing and slapped at her cheeks. Gull’s smile broadened and curled, suddenly reckless, at one corner. She loved to fly. At her back the propeller blurred, its whine all but lost as the wind whipped at her and roared away.

Gull came in fast and tight, pointing Charlie’s nose directly at the landing platform. A warning sounded but she slapped the manual override. At the last possible moment, when it seemed certain she would dash herself against the platform, she yanked back on the stick all her might, hauling Charlie’s nose up and slapping him down hard on to the landing platform. The paracycle bounced once then twice – long, looping and languid in the Moon’s low gravity – then began skidding towards the edge of the platform and a three hundred metre drop. Gull leant against the stick, bringing Charlie’s nose round, bleeding speed, letting the tail slide out until it seemed certain the little glider would topple over the edge. Then she flicked on the magnetic anchor.

The paracycle juddered to a halt slamming Gull forward against her harness then back into her seat.

Gull leant back, dragged her goggles off over her shaven scalp, and pushed back the sweat from her forehead with both palms. The only sound was the soft whine of the paracycle’s propeller, still spinning freely. She patted the frame of the paracycle.

“Good boy, Charlie.”

She reached back and grabbed the parcel, popped the console from its docking port and stepped between Charlie’s carbon fibre ribs onto the landing platform.

The guards were obviously groundhogs. They were clumsy and squat in a way only those born in high gravity could be. Still wrapped in bulky muscles, they were fresh from Earth.

“Do you have a death wish?” One of the guards bounced awkwardly towards Gull. He cradled his rifle in one arm – like a pet. It was a sleek, black M10 and Gull’s opinion of the guard dropped even further. The M10 looked impressive but it had a kick like a jackhammer and if the dumb guard ever actually fired the thing on The Moon he’d be flying arse over tit all the way to Copernicus.

“A girl has got to have some fun,” she said, trying to keep the contempt from her voice.

The guard leered, something dirty on the tip of his tongue, but Gull looked into his eyes and met his gaze nervelessly. She dared him. The joke died, dry in his throat.

“Identification?” The guard tried to reassert himself.

She handed him her company ID.

The guard snapped opened the little case.

On one side was a chip containing her biometric details. The guard ignored it. On the right was a credit chip. He scanned the chip and checked the read out.

“One hundred dollars?” There was contempt in his voice.

Gull sighed. She knew this was going to happen. Groundhogs were always the most trouble.

“It’s one hundred dollars for you, one hundred dollars for the next guy, one hundred dollars for everyone. It’s the going rate. Check the market board.”

The guard shook his head. “This is a free market, I can charge what the market will bear.”

“Well, this market will only bear one hundred dollars,” she stepped away from him, lifting her parcel. “And one of your bosses is waiting for this. If you want to go to arbitration, you can explain to him why his package was late. Is that what you want?”

“Okay! ” The guard raised a hand, suddenly smiling. “You can’t blame a guy for trying.”

She could, but she wouldn’t.

“Can I go now,” Gull read the name on the guard’s badge, “Castor?”

“Sure,” he waved her away. “Look after yourself.”

“No one else will.”

*

It took several moments, but eventually Paitoon was able to open his eyes again. His lips were still making the shapes of a mantra as he tried to calm himself.

A man in a blue uniform was standing in front of him, a sympathetic smile on his face. Paitoon’s head only reached the level of the golden shield emblazoned on his chest. “Freedom Constabulary Inc.” it said.

“Sawatdee-krap,” Paitoon said, performing the wai – placing his hands together at chest height and bowing slightly.

“Constable Hayek, sir,” the man bowed slightly, he had sandy coloured hair and blue eyes. “Do you speak English or should I send for a translator?”

“Pardon,” Paitoon flushed. “No translator necessary. I speak English. My name is Paitoon, Paitoon Chattaponsiri“

The guard looked over his shoulder at the seething mass of people on the station concourse.

“Overwhelming isn’t it?”

“Incredible,” Paitoon nodded, letting his eyes close again for a moment. “I never imagined it could be so huge, so busy…”

“Is this your first time in Freedom?”

“My first time off Earth.”

“I thought so,” Hayek grinned. “You have family here?”

“No. Not yet,” Paitoon looked away. “I have escaped the war. I hope to earn enough to bring my family here soon.”

Constable Hayek nodded slowly.

“You have a job arranged?”

“Not yet, but I’m sure –”

Constable Hayek shook his head.

“Do you have the means to support yourself?” Hayek asked. Paitoon looked at him blankly. “Money? Do you have much money?”

“I spent almost everything I had to get here.”

The constable sighed. “Well then, I’m afraid I must mark you as an indigent migrant. Freedom does not restrict entry, but those who cannot pay for air and water must ­–”

“But I am a programmer,” Paitoon protested. “I am very good. I earn lots of money in Bangkok. I do good work.”

“How many of these people do you think programmers, Paitoon?” The constable said, shaking his head. “There are no jobs. Without money or a company registration you cannot get insurance. Without insurance you cannot get credit, you cannot rent property, you cannot get work. You will have no status. You would be better to go home.”

“Please…” Tears welled in Paitoon’s eyes. “My family. The war.”

Hayek ran a finger over his chin, thinking.

“I’m not supposed to do this,” the constable said. “But there might be a way. I know some people. It won’t be cheap.”

Paitoon reached into his pocket and showed Hayek a small bundle of credit chips.

The constable nodded and gave Paitoon a card and pointed to the back.

“Give this to a man called Kush at this address,” Hayek turned the card over and tapped it, an animated map sprang to life. “That’s how to get there from here.”

Paitoon bowed.

“Thank you very much,” he said, then remembered what the flight attendant had said to the passengers as they left The Elle. “Take care of yourself?”

Hayek laughed, shaking his head. “Look after yourself.”

“Sorry. Very sorry,” Paitoon bowed again. “Look after yourself.”

The constable nodded.

“No one else will.”

*

Dropping the package off took longer than Gull expected. The wage slave behind the reception desk seemed to have had a lobotomy.

By the time she finished her console was flashing frantically with queries from Buck about where she was and a list of jobs she was to bid for. She sighed and shoved open the door to the landing platform.

The first thing Gull noticed was that the guards were huddled in one corner giggling and scanning chips.

Then she saw her paracycle drop away from the landing pad.

“Charlie!”

At first she thought they’d turned off the magnetic tether and let the cycle be blown away, but then Charlie turned sharply right, his wings wobbling, and began to gain height. Gull saw a flash of black hair. Then the cycle swished around the edge of the tower and was gone.

“My ‘cycle,” she turned to the guards. “You bastards let someone steal Charlie.”

The guards had straightened up. They weren’t laughing anymore. Their rifles were levelled at Gull’s belly.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“Shit!” Gull turned back to the now empty open space of the landing pad. “Bastards!”

“If you don’t have any more business here madam, I’m afraid we’re going to have to ask you to leave.” The big guard, Castor, stepped forward. He was grinning.

“I paid you,” Gull said. “We had a contract.”

The guard shook his head and tossed her credit chip back to her. She caught it. It hadn’t been drained.

“It can be very dangerous up here. We wouldn’t want an accident, would we?”

Gull’s shoulders slumped. She nodded. The guards escorted her to the lift.

“Look after yourself,” the guards chorused as the doors slipped closed.

“No one else will,” Gull whispered to herself as she began her journey to The Floor.

*

“Freedom is a dream.”

Everyone who came to Freedom believed it, at least for a moment.

Clutching his only bag and the card the constable had given him, Paitoon forced his way through the mass of people milling around the elephantine columns at the exit to the Elle station.

He stood before The Monument to the Founders, a slender pile of polished golden chains rising fifty meters above the ground. Each chain was at least as thick as a man’s leg and every link had been burst open.

Beneath the monument was a plaque, ten meters tall, with the proclamation of the three laws.

“Freedom is a dream built by man’s imagination,” it began. Paitoon didn’t need to read the words. He knew them by heart. “The dream will be built on three laws. The market is free. What can be bought, may be sold. Do what you want, and so will I. From these simple rules will flow liberty and justice for all.”

Paitoon stood before those broken chains and thought of his family on Earth and of what he’d given up to get here. His father had told Paitoon not to leave the monastery. He had begged him to keep his promise and complete his three-month’s retreat in the sangha. But the war had come so close and there was no shame in leaving.

Paitoon took a final look at the monument and closed his eyes, offering a prayer that his father and his family would soon see it too.

*

Gull was pushed out through what felt like an airlock – one small metal door clanging closed behind her before another swung open – and stepped into what appeared to be a busy street market atop a dump.

This was The Floor. Rotting rubbish fluttered in tottering heaps and the stink forced Gull to pause and fight back the urge to puke. Crowds swept this way and that in fast-moving torrents, each eroding its own path through the rubbish. Between the mounds of detritus, market stalls were wedged up against the side of the towers or huddled on eyots in the heart of the flow of people. Some of the stalls sold food, fresh and cooked, some of them sold clothes or electronics or drugs or people. One or two appeared to be trying to sell the rubbish on which they were built.

She had survived down here before, she told herself, and got out. She could do it again. She could feel the comforting weight of Charlie’s console in her jacket. As long as she still had that, she had a link to his transponder and she could find him.

She needed a Mission. She needed The Church of Christ the Entrepreneur.

*

Kush greeted Paitoon with a broad smile, placed a heavy arm across his shoulders and swept him inside the hostel.

It was not as Paitoon had been expecting.

The ground floor was a busy club. Music thumped loudly, so that the whole room seemed to throb, and a large group of bored looking young men lounged by the bar. Paitoon could make out a few couples leaning close together in dark booths arranged against the wall and on a second level above.

Kush rushed Paitoon through to an elevator.

The elevator pinged and the doors opened onto a narrow corridor, thick red carpet covered the floor and walls.

“I’ll show you your room,” Kush led the way. “And then we can talk about your new job and how you can pay your way.”

*

Missions weren’t hard to find, signposts were on every corner. But the guys blocking Gull’s path meant that getting through The Mission doors was going to be expensive.

Gull could hold her own in a street fight, if she had to, but she was giving a hundred pounds to even the smallest of these guys. Anyway, the ordinance conspicuously strapped to their hips suggested they didn’t do fistfights.

The biggest guy grinned and held out his hand, palm up. Another groundhog. His skin even still had that brown tint that suggested naked, non-fatal exposure to the sun.

“Pay up.”

Gull’s mind raced. She couldn’t afford street tax.

The second thug stepped forward, he could have been the first one’s brother, or clone. He let his hand drop to rest on the handle of his pistol.

“Come on! Don’t waste our time.”

The third one held back, at first Gull hadn’t notice him. He was tall and slender and pale. A Lunie, born and bred, Gull reckoned. He had the lean, rat-like face of someone who’d spent too long on The Floor.

Gull wondered.

“I am looking for escort to The Mission. I cannot pay street tax but I have enough credit to pay one of you the going rate.”

The two groundhogs grinned stupidly at each other, shrugged, reaching for their guns.

“Contract?” The Lunie asked.

“Contract,” Gull replied.

“What?” The first groundhog turned in time to see the butt of the Lunie’s gun catch him flush on the bridge of the nose and drop him, his face a bubbling, bloody mess on the floor. He was trying to scream, a mixture of fury and pain, but his throat was full of his own blood.

As the second groundhog fumbled to drag his gun from its holster he found the sudden blade of a razor-thin knife pressing on his Adam’s apple.

“Drop the gun, Ronnie.” The heavy weapon thudded to the ground. The Lunie nodded at Gull. “Pick it up – and strip Duke as well, before he works out he isn’t dying. Make sure you get the piece in his boot.”

“You better kill me now, you piece of shit,” Ronnie was trying to talk without moving his throat, a trickle of blood was running down the groundhog’s neck.

The Lunie laughed.

“Ronnie, I’m going to take every weapon and credit you have and then I’m going to leave you down here on The Floor. If you pair of witless groundhogs survive long enough to see my face again – and I doubt it – then you’re welcome to do you worst. This lady is not paying me to kill you but, if there’s a next time, I might just do you for free.”

The Lunie kicked out the back of Ronnie’s knees and he collapsed to the ground.

“Thank you,” Gull said.

“No need for thanks as long as you can pay,” the Lunie said, then smiled. “I’m Laslo.”

“I’m Gull,” she looked at the two groundhogs. “What do want to do now?”

“Empty their pockets, then I’m all yours.”

*

They kept Paitoon awake for six days. Someone would punch him, someone would be nice to him, someone would kick him, someone would feed him. At first he’d been overwhelmed by the horror of it all. He’d cried and begged and promised them anything. But by the sixth day, Paitoon had gone cold. The pain and the misery were still there, but he had become detached. His real self was somewhere else.

The first time they raped him, tying his hands and feet to the legs of a table, he had frozen in horror and disbelief. He’d simply refused to accept that this could be really happening. Later he’d kicked and bit and scratched and screamed, fighting them with every ounce of his strength, to no effect. Finally he’d fallen silent again, numb and beyond the kind of pain they could inflict on his body.

“Will you take the job?” Kush asked him.

Paitoon just nodded. He’d been saying yes almost since the moment the beatings had started. He’d have said anything to get them to stop.

But this time he just nodded.

Kush grabbed a handful of Paitoon’s hair and pulled his head up, staring into Paitoon’s eyes.

“Will you take the job?”

“Yes,” Paitoon’s voice was a whisper.

Kush stared at him for a moment longer then let Paitoon’s head drop. Paitoon heard him leave the room.

Paitoon had said yes a thousand times, but this time Kush seemed satisfied. And Paitoon knew that it was because he meant it now. He’d do whatever they wanted. He should never have left the monastery. It was karma. He knew it.

Kush came back, holding a hypodermic.

“This is Zoom,” Kush said, pressing the needle into Paitoon’s arm. “You’ll like it.”

The world began to dance.

*

The lay accountant in The Mission had to check with a Brother before he let her access the grid without paying in advance. Gull explained that they’d make no money if her credit was stopped and the Brother smiled sweetly and nodded.

Gull called base and cleared things with Buck. Technical problems, she’d said, and promised to be back on station tomorrow. He bought it. That gave her credit for another day.

Behind her, the Brother coughed politely.

Gull turned. “I need to find a paracycle.”

The Brother bowed slightly.

“There are many paracycle dealers, the nearest –”

“No,” Gull cut him off. “I need to find a particular paracycle. Mine. It’s been stolen. Can you help?”

“I have sworn to help others,” the Brother said, reaching into his robes for a retinal reader, “and make a profit.”

Gull swiped the reader across her eye and keyed in a figure. It was everything she could afford. She handed it back to The Brother. He checked the figure and then showed it to the accountant.

“And I’ll need a taxi.”

“I am certain that the Lord will look favourably on your gift, my child.”

*

Castor was a regular. He came to the hostel twice a week and, since their first time together, he always asked for Paitoon. Paitoon didn’t mind Castor. He was quick, didn’t talk and always left a generous tip.

This visit started like all the others. Paitoon began to undress, thinking of the money and trying to judge if Kush would think he’d done enough to deserve today’s fix. He could feel the need slithering behind his eyes.

He wanted to zoom.

Paitoon turned and was surprised to see Castor unmoved, sitting on the bed, hands clasped between his knees, staring at the floor.

“I don’t even know your name,” Castor said.

Paitoon closed his eyes. He could cope with the sex, and the beatings, and the humiliation. Zooming helped. He could cope with the violence and the pain. For the times between fixes he’d built a wall in his mind. The things that happened outside the wall happened to someone else, not to him. But he hated the customers who wanted to talk, who behaved as though he was their friend. They chipped away at the wall. They made it all feel real. He hated them.

“I’d like to help you,” Castor said.

Through the window of the hostel room Paitoon could see down a long open canyon between Freedom’s high towers. A flyer bobbed and swooped like a bird.

“Can you get me out of here?” Paitoon said it bitterly, sarcastically. He knew he was trapped. He turned to face Castor. “Can you?”

The big man nodded. “I think so.”

Paitoon paused. That wasn’t what he’d expected.

“Why would you help me?”

Castor looked up, meeting Paitoon’s gaze for the first time. He was a boy.

“I love you,” Castor said very softly.

Paitoon turned back to the window.

“You could live with me,” Castor insisted.

Paitoon turned back.

“I love you too.”

“I knew it,” Castor leapt across the room and grasped Paitoon, pulling him closer. “I knew it!”

*

Gull had no time for the Church’s religion but she had to concede that they were efficient. Within ten minutes the Brother had returned with a small tracking device and an address.

“Your initial payment covers the use of this device,” he held out the tracker, “for a twenty-four hour period. If, by the end of that period, it has not been returned to a certified representative of The Church of Christ the Entrepreneur you will be charged at these additional rates.”

The Brother held out a pad. She thumbed down through the terms and conditions. The rental rates for the tracker were exorbitant but it didn’t matter. If she didn’t have Charlie back in twenty-four hours, The Church could join the back of the line of creditors who’d be queuing up for a pound of her flesh.

She blinked into the pad and handed it back.

The Brother nodded.

“A taxi has won the bidding for your contract. Are you ready to leave?”

“Tell him I’ll be ready in ten minutes,” Gull said. “There’s one more thing I need to do.”

*

Stealing the paracycle had been easy. Castor bribed the security crew to get Paitoon into the building and the receptionist to delay the girl while they busted the locks.

Flying the paracycle, though, was altogether more difficult. Paitoon wobbled off the tower’s landing pad easily enough and turned quickly to get out-of-sight, just in case the girl was armed, but almost at once he realised he was dangerously out of his depth.

The little flier was being buffeted back and forth between Freedom’s immense towers. Paitoon was swept back and forth, up and down, on an invisible, violent roller coaster of rocketing updrafts and plummeting downdrafts.

Paitoon gripped the control-stick in two pale-knuckled, sweat-slicked hands, hunched down in his seat, and pedalled harder. He looked down at the computer’s controls and, timidly, twitched the control stick to the left, altering course as instructed.

The console he’d plugged into the paracycle’s computer had been expensive but it was old and not perfectly compatible with these more modern systems. He had, however, been able to create a simple emulator to allow him to get most of the basic functions working. Later he’d reprogram the whole thing.

Suddenly, a slicing crosswind burst from between two towers. It caught the raised wingtip of the paracycle and flipped the flier over, filling the wings like a sail.

All across the computer console lights flashed a frantic red. Paitoon jerked at the control stick. The paracycle refused to respond. It wrenched, twisted and turned. Helpless, Paitoon was thrown about in his harness.

A downdraft ripped at the flier, tossing it, nose down, towards to distant floor. Paitoon felt the wind rip at his face. To one side a silver tower was so close he felt sure that he could reach out and touch it. Looking down, the gap between the tower and its neighbour appeared to narrow. Somewhere, down there, was The Floor. Paitoon closed his eyes. How long will I fall, he wondered.

But after a few moments he felt himself tugged sideways. The console beeped.

The paracyle jerked again.

The flier was levelling off.

The lights on the computer turned green.

Paitoon looked at the console screen. A message was flashing.

“Warning: Do not exceed aircraft tolerances. Emergency recovery procedures in effect.”

For a long moment, Paitoon gawped helplessly. He had not known that was possible. He patted the computer box and began to pedal again.

“Khawp khun, little flier.”

*

Getting inside had been easy. Gull showed the guards an empty parcel, her company identity and paid them with credit. They waved her through.

Inside, she tried to look like she knew where were she was going. She made confident, but not aggressive, eye contact with each of the groundhogs she met in the corridor. This was a company building. The same company that she’d called at this morning. Someone there had set this whole thing up. One of the guards? They hadn’t seemed smart enough.

She glanced at the tracker again. She was on the right floor. It must be just down that corridor.

Then the signal went dead.

Gull tapped the tracker against her palm.

Nothing.

She reset it, waiting nervously in the narrow corridor, trying to look like she belonged.

Still nothing.

She sighed.

She’d have to try every door on the floor and hope that someone recognised her.

*

Paitoon had finished making all the modifications and was getting ready to leave when the doorbell rang. He checked the room’s security system and saw a messenger girl in the corridor holding a parcel. He opened the door with his hand out, wondering whether Castor had ordered something else that he might be able to sell.

He stood there for a moment, arm extended, wondering why she wasn’t giving him the parcel? He looked up into the girl’s face. She was shaven-headed and had that deathly white shade that marked out real Lunies. They all looked the same to him.

Then the pieces clicked into place. He looked left, to where the paracycle sat folded against the wall and a wave of panic broke over him.

“Yet mang!” Paitoon tried to slam the door but it bounced back off the girl’s foot, jammed into the frame. Paitoon grabbed the door with both hands and tried to force it shut, but the girl slipped her body between the door and the frame.

“I want my cycle,” the girl said softly. “Just give me Charlie.”

Suddenly the pressure on the door increased. Paitoon was driven back across the room, scrabbling to stay on his feet. He crashed with a thud against the far wall. His hand brushed a bag full of Castor’s stuff. His gun was on top, just out of reach.

The girl was standing inside the doorway.

“I just want my ‘cycle,” she said.

Paitoon lunged for the gun.

Pfft!

An insect bit the side of his neck.

No. That was wr-

*

Gull weighed the stunner in her palm, looking down at the little Asian lying on the floor. She didn’t know enough about Earth to be able to say exactly where he was from, but she was fascinated by how fragile he seemed. He could have been a Lunie.

Gull checked the other rooms. She was cautious but, she reckoned, if there’d been anyone home the sound of the struggle at the door would have brought them running.

Her plan had been to take Charlie and leave, but when Gull saw that little guy had been hacking at the console, she realised she was going to have to wait until he woke up. He’d done something to the systems. She couldn’t make her console fit and she couldn’t fly the paracycle without it. He’d have to fix it.

Finding the bag full of credit chips, a stash of Zoom and a good quality pistol, all the way from earth – worth plenty of credits – had made her pause. That was an extra complication she’d liked. It wasn’t what she’d come for, but she decided she’d deserved the money for what the little guy had put her through. Today had been expensive as well as frustrating.

She propped the bag next to the door. She pushed the little thief up against the sofa on one side of the room and sat in an armchair opposite him, setting the stunner on her knee. Then she sorted out her insurance.

*

When Paitoon awoke he was slumped on the sofa. His arms and legs were numb. He could feel a stream of warm spittle pooling at the base of his neck. It was strangely comforting.

He looked up.

The girl, the one he’d stolen the paracycle from, was sitting opposite him. She had the stunner levelled at his chest.

Paitoon tried to move his arm, but it flopped uselessly at his side. He noticed the girl’s eyes flicker at the movement. She was nervous.

“Tell me what you’ve done to Charlie,” the girl said.

Paitoon shook his head.

“Whomf?” His lips and tongue felt as unresponsive as his arms and legs.

“The paracycle,” the girl waved the stunner towards the machine. “What have you done to the systems?”

“Maggin’ it c’mpabable…” Paitoon shook his head in frustration. The stuff was wearing off, but it was hard to speak.

The girl ignored him walking over to Charlie, poking suspiciously at the changes he made.

“Fix it.” She turned back towards him, waving the stunner. “Put it back.”

He shook his head.

“’s beddah!”

“What?”

“Beddah!” Paitoon tried nodding at the console.

“Better?”

*

Gull watched as Paitoon started working on Charlie.

Something was bothering her.

“How did you plan to get jobs?”

“Wha?” Paitoon looked up over the edge of the magnifying lens he was using while working on the electronics.

“Jobs?” Gull waved the stunner around. “How were you going to get jobs with the paracycle. You haven’t got a company registration.”

“I do not need one,” the little guy was smiling broadly. He tapped the console he’d jury-rigged to Charlie’s systems. “I’ve set it up to adopt a different registration identity for every bid. Each one looks like a platinum-rated ID. No one ever checks up on identities with a high-trust rating but even if they did, by the time they’ve blocked one bid I would have already moved on.”

“But the whole system depends on the market being secure, everyone knows it can’t be hacked. The encryption -“

“The encryption is intact. I cannot read other people’s messages. The network is secure, but people are not,” Paitoon was suddenly quite animated. “Each bid is supposed to be authorised with a unique registration identity as it leaves each company. But people get bored or lazy so they do them in batches with the same code key. My console scans the network for clumps of messages from one node sent at the same time. It can then compare the identifier codes and construct a valid pattern that fits within the pattern of the clump and attaches it to my bid.”

“So you can bid without a company?”

“Yes.”

“But someone will work it out eventually?”

“Perhaps. But by then I should have enough money to incorporate – and I’ll have a trust-level based on delivering platinum-rated contracts.”

“I don’t…” The girl’s forehead creased in concentration. Paitoon watched, interesting to see if she could work it out. “Ah, I get it. The bidding and the trust rating systems are separate. You bid with the fake corporate identity for the bid, but when you complete the order you present the console and take the payment and trust-points to you own identity –”

” – just like any sub-contractor,” Paitoon smiled.

“Smart,” the girl shook her head. “And you worked this out by yourself?”

“I’m a good programmer. No one would believe me when I arrived,” Paitoon looked away, a mournful expression on his face. “I earned a lot of money in Bangkok, before the war.”

“You know what that means,” she pointed to the console.

Paitoon nodded.

“Freedom,” they both said together.

Then the door opened.

*

Gull watched the guard come through the door, dumping a bag of gear on the floor, unaware of anything unusual. She recognised him at once.

“Hello Castor.”

“Huh?” Castor turned, confusion spreading across his face. It took a moment for him to spot Gull sitting in her seat opposite the door. It took a moment longer for recognition to be flash across his face. And it took longer still for him to realise that he should be reaching for his gun.

“Don’t move, Castor,” Gull waved the stunner as menacingly as she could. “Your friend Paitoon can tell you what sort of sting this thing can deliver.”

“How did she get in?” Castor was looking at Paitoon.

The little guy opened his mouth but Gull hushed him.

“You concentrate on my flier, Paitoon,” her eyes never left Castor. “You know for a building full of company guards, security around her is a joke.”

Castor grumbled something, and started scanning the room. His eyes fixed on the bag of credits and the gun. He took half a step.

“Don’t do it Castor!”

The guard just leered and began to reach down.

Pfft!

The stunner’s compressed air jet fired a needle into Castor’s chest.

Dunk!

That wasn’t right.

Castor laughed – opening his jacket to reveal his work uniform – mesh and body-armour – beneath. Gull could see the little needle futilely trying to pump its sac of venom into the unfeeling plastic.

He put his hand on the gun.

“Don’t do it Castor.”

Castor laughed harder.

“How long do you think it will take that little peashooter of yours to recharge? A lot less time than it will take me to load this – so screw you, you’re dead.”

Castor checked the pistol, it was unloaded. He reached into the bag, looking for a full clip. Then he stopped. He pulled out a watch and some jewellery.

“This is my stuff! But this was all in the vault. How did you get this stuff?”

“I didn’t,” Gull shrugged, looking at Paitoon. “He had it all packed up when I arrived.”

“Paitoon?”

“I was almost free,” the little guy didn’t look up from the work he was doing on the console.

“After all I did for you?”

At this Paitoon did look up and Gull could see the hate in his eyes.

Castor rocked back, his face an image first of abject misery that morphed quickly into fury. He delved into the back, coming up with a full clip.

“Stop, Castor,” Gull stepped towards him. “You don’t want to do this.”

“Shut up!” The guard swept out a heavy arm and caught Gull across the side of the head. She sprawled across the room, tripping over a sofa and dropping to her knees.

Gull reached for for her stunner, but it was gone.

“I think I’d like to invoke my insurance policy now,” she said.

Laslo stepped from his hiding place in Castor’s bedroom, two pistols levelled.

“Put down the gun, Castor,” Gull said.

*

Paitoon saw the stranger, another Lunie, step out of the darkness of the bedroom and heard Gull warn Castor but he could tell that, even if the guard was aware of what was happening around him, he wasn’t paying attention.

He watched Castor finally succeed in slamming the clip into the pistol, flip the safety and pull back the slide to put a bullet in the chamber.

“Stop it Castor!” Gull was shouting.

“Castor!” Paitoon tried to put himself between Castor and the Lunie. “Don’t do this!”

Castor’s eyes were fat with tears. His chin was trembling. He looked like a child having a tantrum. Castor brought the pistol up, pointing at Paitoon’s chest.

Gull said something that Paitoon couldn’t make out over the pounding of blood in his ears.

Crack! Crack!

Castor slumped back against the apartment wall. Two roses of blood blossomed on his chest. His pistol flew across the room, landing at Gull’s feet.

For a moment there was absolute silence.

Paitoon found himself kneeling beside Castor, cradling his hand, gazing into the piercing stare of dead eyes.

“You silly boy,” Paitoon whispered and found his throat constricting and his eyes burning.

*

“Does he have insurance?” Laslo leant over Castor’s dead body. Gull took the opportunity to dip and scoop Castor’s pistol from the floor. She slipped it into her waistband at the small of her back.

Paitoon looked up, trying to compose himself.

“Does he have insurance?” Laslo pointed one of his pistols at Paitoon’s head.

“Yes… no…”

“Which is it?” Laslo pressed the gun barrel into Paitoon’s forehead. “Retard!”

“Not for this,” Paitoon took a deep breath. “His company provided him with investigation and retribution insurance but it only covered him while he was on duty.”

“Good,” Laslo smiled, poking Castor’s arm with his boot. Then, satisfied that Castor was dead, he turned to Gull. “So, contract fulfilled?”

Gull nodded, suddenly aware that two pistols were pointing at her midriff.

“Well you can keep your cash,” Laslo grabbed Paitoon by the collar and dragged him to his feet. “I’ll take this retard, his little console and that bag, and we’ll call it quits.”

“No! Please!” Paitoon squirmed but the Lunie pressed the gun to his neck and he settled down.

“Get your console,” the Lunie pushed Paitoon across the room. “You are going to make me rich.”

“I can’t you let take him,” Gull said.

“You can’t stop me,” Laslo smiled broadly.

Slowly Gull began to reach around behind her back, feeling for the butt of the pistol. The smile disappeared from Laslo’s face.

“And if you so much as touch that gun you’ve got tucked back there, I’ll blow your stupid head off.”

Gull froze and was suddenly aware that she’d underestimated the Lunie.

“In fact, I think I might have to kill you anyway,” Laslo walked across the room, his spidery limbs picking a path between overturned furniture.

“There’s no profit in it,” Gull said, trying to meet Laslo’s gaze.

“But maybe I think that you know too much about the retard’s clever little machine,” Laslo raised a pistol. “Maybe you’d report me to the Chamber, just to get your own back.”

Gull tried to take a step backwards, but she was already pressed against the wall. She raised her hands.

“Laslo, I…”

The Lunie put a finger to his lips.

“Stop!” Paitoon yelped.

“Shut up retard!” Laslo didn’t even turn round and Gull’s view was blocked.

“This is your last warning!”

Laslo laughed.

“What are you going to do, little man?” Laslo glanced over his shoulder then stopped laughing, taking a step to one side.

Paitoon was clutching Gull’s stunner.

“That thing isn’t even charg-“

Pfft!

Laslo’s eyes rolled back in his head and his mouth dropped open. Then his knees trembled, gave and, slowly, he collapsed to the floor.

“That bastard was going to kill me,” Gull said, lashing out with her boot against Laslo’s unprotected sides. Then she stopped, and turned to look at Paitoon. “You saved my life!”

Then she turned to the wall and puked.

*

Paitoon brought the girl a drink of water and she rinsed her mouth.

“Thank you.”

“Mai pen rai,” Paitoon dipped into a wai. “You’re welcome.”

“So I guess we should get out of here.”

“I certainly do not wish to be around when he wakes up,” Paitoon nodded at Laslo.

“Mmm,” Gull wiped at her mouth, then she looked over at her paracycle, Charlie. “Is he fixed?”

“Yes,” Paitoon looked away. “I am sorry for the trouble I caused you.”

Gull wandered over to the work table and picked up Paitoon’s hacked console.

“Do you really think this thing will work?”

“I am certain of it, at least for a while.”

Gull took another three steps to where Charlie lay folded against the wall. She stroked the paracycle’s wings.

“I won’t be your slave,” Paitoon said. “I won’t live like that any more. If that’s what you expect, then you’d better kill me now, because I won’t work for you.”

“I’m not going to kill you.” Gull scratched at the stubble on the top of her head. “Did you enjoy your flight in Charlie?”

“It was terrifying!” Paitoon’s complexion paled visibly at the memory.

“Then maybe we do a deal,” Gull said. “You run the technology, I’ll do the flying and we share the profits. We’ll call it a cooperative.”

Paitoon’s eyes narrowed.

“But I thought you Lunies only looked after yourselves.”

“Can your scam make both of us rich?”

“I think so,” Paitoon nodded. “With luck.”

“Then if I look after you, I am looking after myself. Right?”

Paitoon smiled.

“Contract?” Gull held out a hand. “Contract,” Paitoon replied.

“Freedom” was first published in Jupiter SF #12

FREEDOM was originally published on Welcome To My World

[vanquisher2099]

Part Seventeen: A Bartender Walks into a Bar

Maesin waited several minutes for the sound of footsteps outside her storage unit to die down before she emerged into the soft morning light. If she had been the sort of organism that required sleep, she would have regretted her decision to stay up late observing the movements of data, money, and personnel that made up Madame Midnight’s increasingly-expansive information empire, but as it was she merely felt a slight pang of annoyance that she still had to go to her cover job. What was the point, she thought to herself, of having access to so many favors and sources of cash when she couldn’t use any of it without attracting attention and getting herself and everyone else she gave even the slightest bit of a shit about killed?

A car was waiting for her three blocks away to take her to the bar, and she slid in and immediately overrode the automated driving software. One indulgence she allowed herself was driving. She’d done it a lot with Alayna, before everything went to hell, and doing so since everything had gone to hell was effectively a coping mechanism. The science community was generally undecided on the question of whether an artificial intelligence could actually contract PTSD or even grieve the loss of a loved one, but Maesin thought that in this case the science community probably should’ve just asked an AI. She liked to pretend, sometimes, that she didn’t know how long it had been since she’d last seen Alayna (down to the second, thanks internal clock), that this was just a temporary thing and they’d be able to meet up in a couple of days, that everything would somehow get back to the weird semblance of something routine they’d had.

It hadn’t been, of course. And it wouldn’t go back to the way things were, because even if the long-shot plan Alayna had insisted on not telling her the details of (yes, yes, J4D3 herself had insisted on not telling her the details of, and then promptly wiped her own memory of the details after leaving an apologetic recording to – who else – herself) actually worked, and they were able to meet again, too much time had passed between then and now. Plus, Maesin didn’t exactly have the warmest or fuzziest feelings for the woman who had wiped her memory and then, one hasty explanation later, left and ended up seemingly dead. It had taken two years for her to confirm that Alayna’s body was not in fact somewhere on the bottom of the lake, but was in fact walking around somewhere in the Midwest, but at least she had that.

The bar was, increasingly, becoming something Maesin considered to be a distraction from what the real important work was, which was conducting something of a massive plan B in case whatever the longshot plan happened to be didn’t pan out. That meant making Madame Midnight a little more aggressive in some of her dealings, and occasionally harassing whatever entity had taken over d3m3t3r’s operation in a bid to get them to show their hand a little more clearly. Added to that was her somewhat foolish promise to Jade that she’d find out who had sent the threatening letter and threatened to expose their true identities, all of which were not exactly pieces of information that needed to be publicized.

All of that, however, had to be put on hold while Maesin tended bar in a known criminal front, where occasionally – occasionally – people who knew the right pass phrases got put into contact with Madame Midnight, who nobody had yet figured out was the fucking bartender. That nobody had figured this out meant one of two things, as far as Maesin was concerned: she was incredibly good at covering her tracks, or perhaps humans were just that fucking stupid. Most days she tended toward the latter. d3m3t3r, she suspected, would have figured it out by now. She had, after all, discovered the identity of the first Madame Midnight all those years ago, an event which as far as Maesin was concerned had kicked this whole mess off to begin with.

Alayna’s voice echoed in her head. That’s enough of that train of thought, don’t you think? You know it just ends up driving you crazy, and you don’t need the distraction when you’re working tonight. Maesin gripped the steering wheel tighter. It was, she knew, a coping mechanism of sorts to hear her friend’s voice in moments of stress. Not necessarily a healthy coping mechanism, of course. Maesin figured that if it got bad she’d either disguise herself as human and see a psychiatrist or wipe her memory again, since that seemed to be past J4D3’s go-to plan.

The bar was quiet, which was unsurprising given the early hour. Maesin waved to her boss and took up position behind the bar, serving drinks to the few patrons who were conducting a business meeting, pretending to conduct a business meeting, or just blatantly starting early. Occasionally someone would come in and make a particular order which meant that their tip included a small data chip slipped under the bill. These chips were deposited into a small container by the sink which was in turn periodically emptied by another member of the staff, and so on down a line of dead drops until they would eventually wind up being deposited a few blocks away from the storage locker Maesin called home. It was convoluted, but it was also one of the things which kept her identity secure.

Some of the data chips would be job requests, some would be account information so she could collect payment, and others would be reports from the various operatives employed by Madame Midnight. Very occasionally it was a personal request from someone with whom the old Madame Midnight had been close, which Maesin had to honor to keep up appearances. The idea had been to have Madame Midnight’s entire persona stay more or less the same – even the storage unit had been one of Maddie’s old safehouses. On the off chance that someone knew that location, they’d only encounter one of Maddie’s former clients (Maesin) who was paying for the right to hide there. It was simple, as far as cover stories went, which appealed to the humans of the group (Maesin thought it might be too easy to suss out the lie, but J4D3 had signed off on it, and as pissed as she was at herself, she still trusted her judgment. Mostly).

“Excuse me,” a voice said, interrupting Maesin’s train of thought, “but you wouldn’t happen to serve drinks for those of us with, for lack of a better phrase, alternative senses?”

Maesin’s expression slipped into customer service mode, and she turned to the speaker, a woman on the tall side with a businesslike fringe of black hair, looked back at her expectantly. “Of course,” Maesin said, “we pride ourselves on serving clientele of all sorts.”

“Good to hear!” The woman said, smiling in relief. “Some bars aren’t so good about having things to offer full prosthetics.”

Maesin gestured to herself. “Some bars don’t use robots for bartenders either, yet here we are.”

This earned a look of shock which was probably not genuine from the customer. “Ah, you’re a robot! I was about to say that you looked a little young to be tending bar.”

“Yes, well, as you’re no doubt aware, they can make us look however young they want.” Maesin said with a shrug. “So, what can I get you?”

“Oh, I don’t care. Whatever you think I’d like, I suppose.”

Maesin nodded and mixed up something suitably expensive. She slid the drink across the bar to her customer, who smiled and saluted her with the drink before taking a sip. A delighted look crossed the woman’s face. “Well! They certainly have the right woman on the job. This is everything I never knew I wanted.”

Maesin inclined her head in thanks. “Just doing my job, miss.”

The sound of the woman’s laughter was musical and danced on the border of flirtatious. “I suppose so. I wonder if you couldn’t do me one more service.”

“Depends on what the service is.”

“Nothing illegal, I promise.” The woman replied, smirking. “I’m waiting for a friend, and it looks like he’s running late. Can you do me a favor and keep an eye out for him? I’ve got to duck out for a few minutes and I don’t want him to think I’m standing him up.”

Maesin shrugged. “Sure, I can do that. What’s he look like?”

“Taller fellow, got a little grey in his hair but not too much – what you might call dignified, if you were given to that kind of description.” The woman said, smirking a little. “Oh, and he’s got a broken arm. Should be easy to spot.”

“I’ll keep an eye out.” Maesin said, agreeably.

“Great!” The woman drained the last of her drink and paid, leaving the bar with a wave. “Back in a few!”

Maesin collected the money (and the hidden chip), and returned to cleaning the bar. Before long, a man with a broken arm entered the bar and made his way over. “Dave! You seem to have been injured. What happened?”

“Oh, you know, hazards of the job.” David said, shrugging. “You still look too young to be working here, by the way.”

“And they still can make us look as young as they like.” Maesin said, rolling her eyes. “Either I need to get a new job, or you need to get a new topic of conversation.”

“Aw come on, it’s like our thing now. You know, instead of saying hello.”

Maesin sighed deeply. “Sure, whatever. Your ladyfriend, by the way, had to step out for a minute. She asked if you’d wait here for her.”

David looked surprised. “How’d you know…?”

“She asked me to look out for the some idiot with a broken arm.” Maesin said with a smile. “Not that big of a leap to assume it was you once you walked in.”

“And here I thought you were trying your hand at detective work.” David said with a smirk.

“Not programmed for it.” Maesin said, turning to grab a bottle of whiskey off the shelf behind her. “The usual, I take it?”

“See? You know me so well.” David sounded delighted.

“Oh,” the woman from before said, appearing behind David, “should I be jealous?”

Maesin snorted. “Not at all, miss. Dave’s too much of a pain in the ass for my taste – you’re welcome to him.”

“Call me Jill, kiddo. ‘Miss’ makes me feel old.”

“Could be worse,” David said, smirking, “she could call you ma’am.”

Jill laughed, and looped her arm through David’s broken one easily. “I suppose so. Hopefully you weren’t waiting for too long, were you?”

David lifted the glass that Maesin had placed in front of him. “Only just got my drink. Hope you don’t mind if I take my time with it, do you?”

“Of course not. Come on, there’s a table in the back.” Jill drew David away, leaving Maesin alone behind the bar again.

The rest of the night passed by uneventfully. Maesin had drawn the short straw that evening, which meant she was in charge of closing the bar down – which was, unsurprisingly enough, something she was generally willing to do. There was not as if she had much else of a social life to speak of – and if that meant that Madame Midnight was able to keep an unseen eye on this part of the operation for a little longer than she might otherwise, well, that made good sense. It gave her more time to think about what she was going to do about the fact that two of Madame Midnight’s agents were hanging out together.

It wasn’t that she hadn’t expected something like this to happen sooner or later. The problem was that using Jill Jaegerin had been something of a one-time deal, and David was not supposed to have made any kind of lasting contact with her. In fact, his specific mission had been to watch for the first sign of trouble and disappear as soon as it became apparent that Jill was making her move on the target, which he’d clearly decided not to do. Maesin wasn’t sure why he’d made the decision, but she hoped that the report he’d slipped her in the bar would shed some light on the decision. The problem with humans, Maesin was learning, was that it was difficult to predict when their libidos would suddenly become a problem.

It had certainly become an issue with Alayna. Maesin wasn’t jealous, necessarily – and she didn’t begrudge what Alayna and Maddie had with one another – but when shit had hit the fan, well, it had definitely made the both of them act a little unpredictably in the end. There was very little doubt in her mind that the ultimate plan they’d all settled on was motivated in part because of greater-than-usual concern for one another’s well-being. Then again, she – or J4D3, anyway – had decided to go along with the plan for similar concerns.

By the time she reached the storage unit, the sky was already beginning to shift to a grey dawn. The day’s reports had been dropped at their proper locations, except for the two reports delivered by Jill and David – those Maesin had kept with her to see the results as soon as possible.

The report from David was more or less what she expected. An explanation that he’d been caught off-guard by Jill’s infiltration, and as a result had been forced to engage. He’d added a comment about being open to the idea of working with Jill again down the road. Maesin snorted. That had been obvious.

Jill’s report was a little more interesting, in that it was barely a report at all. Instead, it was an image of the target (dead, obviously) and a note:

It’s not that I mind having people check up on me, it’s that you didn’t feel the need to tell me about it beforehand. That I might have killed such a delightful man doesn’t bother me too much – but if you fail to tell me the full picture beforehand again, I’ll have no choice but to hunt you down and explain my displeasure in person.

-          Jill

Maesin read the note a few more times before plugging herself into charge with a snort. “Fucking humans and their goddamn emotions.”

Part Eighteen

Part Sixteen