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boozeandbaddecisions · 2 years ago

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Congrats to your Follower Celebration (again? Not sure if I already send an ask *lmao* ) You deserve each of them!!! AND Thank you for your stories L!! Such a fun to read them!!

Do you still take requests??? Not sure...

Anyways... may I request

68. “I like you, like like you like you.” With Jesse or Hardcase?

Caro, my dear. Thank you for your saint-like patience while I was getting life to settle down a bit. I hope you enjoy <3

Warnings: minors DNI, P in V, friends to lovers

“There she is.”

“Hardcase!”

The clone halted his approach and locked his footing as the incoming missile launched at him. His arms extended to catch as soon as your feet left the ground. Arms wrapping around you as you collided with plastoid.

“Easy there, mesh'la.”

He glanced down to see a grin plastered on your face. His chastising going from halfhearted to ineffective in moments.

“What, I can't be excited that you're finally back?”

It had been ages, but after receiving coms that the 501st would be returning to Coruscant for shore leave, your days had been conquered by planning. Shopping lists that would make most bars look under stocked, holo films gathered of all of his favorites with some new additions to try out, and your closet. Your poor closet still looked as if a clothing bomb had gone off as you had spent hours upon hours selecting the perfect outfit to welcome him home.

“That's fair, so what's first on the list?”

“Take out from that hole in the wall and clearing out holo drama recordings?”

The clone tilted his head scrunching up his face as if to mull things over.

“I hear this season's juicy,” You tempted with a smirk, “scandals, betrayals.”

“Alright, you twisted my arm,” He chuckled.

“I can't stay away anymore. I-I love you, Elora.”

“But...you're married to my sister.”

“Only because of the baby, but every second without you is an eternity.”

“Oh, Ambrose.”

“Oh you've gotta be kidding me?!”

“Just why!?”

You upturned your drink polishing it off before placing it among its other empty brethren on your coffee table. The holo drama began offering spicy snippets of the next episode as you both continued heckling the screen.

“This guy's terrible. What the kriff is gonna do when her sister finds out?” Hardcase vented.

He had abandoned his armor as soon as he reached your apartment in favor of some civvies you kept stashed just in case. The clone staggered to his feet. The alcohol already beginning to develop a comforting buzz behind his forehead.

“Resupply?” He asked, gesturing to the coffee table stacked with bottles and take out containers.

The moment you pursed your lips in thought, Hardcases's mind began to wander. How long had it been since you two met? Seemed like you two had always existed like this: sharing drinks, laughing at each other's jokes, always around to welcome him back after a tour. It was great....until he had to leave.

It would start with a hollow pang in his chest, which would eventually run its course. But not even some time dumping rounds through his trusty R6 would help lessen the weight of leaving you behind.

“Case?”

Your face was contorted with concern, pulling him from his thoughts.

“Sorry, spaced out for a minute there.” He dismissed with a chuckle.

Awkward silence invaded the room, which left the clone to retreat to the kitchen for liquid courage.

The holo drama had long since wrapped as you got yourself to your feet. The clone still absent. As you crept towards your kitchen, you caught the end of a one-sided conversation.

“Kriffing idiot.”

“Who's a kriffing idiot?”

He froze. Drinks still in hand. His gaze suddenly finding the floor very interesting.

Your approach went unnoticed until the feel of fingers on his chin, lifting his gaze to meet yours.

“Case, you know you can talk to me, right?”

His adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed.

“I...Iike you, mesh'la.”

“I like you too.”

He huffed a sigh through his nose, his hand holding your fingers to his face.

“I like you, like like you, like you.”

Your lips parted, heat rising to your cheeks.

“I....if you don't feel the same I und-”

He was silenced by your lips meeting his. The world fell away, only you and the clone who had captured your heart long ago. All too soon, you both came up for air.

A giggle bubbled up from your throat as you took in his adorably surprised expression.

“Good enough of an answer for you?”

The hint of a smirk curled his lips, “I might need you to repeat that.”

Rising to the bait, you pressed your lips to his once more. This kiss deeper and more urgent than the last. You barely heard the clatter of drinks being set hastily on the nearby counter before strong arms wrapped around you pulling you closer. Your tongue ventured out testing the seam of his lips earning a soft gasp from the trooper. The smoldering embers in your belly roaring to life as soon as his tongue joined yours.

“Mesh'la.” He breathed.

The hand at the small of your back twitched. One of his fingers tracing your spine. A surge of boldness took you as you grasped that hand moving it lower. A groan rumbled in his throat as he made contact with your ass. He gave a gentle squeeze to test the waters growing braver once your muffled moan met his ears.

Your own hands wandered the expanse of his chest blindly mapping out his pectorals before moving down to his abdomen.

“You sure about this?” He mumbled against your lips.

“Case, I've waited three tours for this.”

“Alright,”

His hands swiftly moved to cradle your thighs before abruptly lifting you. You felt his grin at your surprised squeak. After the adjustment of encircling your legs around his waist, the trooper began making his way to your bedroom.

Your back soon met the plush mattress with him towering above you.

“Get this off.” You smirked, grabbing a fist full of his shirt.

He pulled away long enough to peel off his shirt tossing the article away.

“Your turn.”

Your top soon met the floor. You soon reached behind you and once you relieved the clasps of their duty, you bra was soon added to the floor. You giggled after following his entranced gaze.

“You can touch.”

He gingerly cupped one of your breasts before he planted his face in between the soft mounds. After another giggle left you, he said something but was muffled. Placing a hand on each side of his head, you lifted.

“Try that again?”

“This must be what heaven feels like.”

You let his head fall back into your chest with a half hearted roll of your eyes. The giggles morphing into moans as soon as his tongue graced your skin. You soon began squirming under him. The roaring fire in your belly only growing hotter.

“Case, come on,”

He lifted his gaze to look into your eyes.

“Pants off, trooper.”

The playful spark in his eyes matched his grin, “Now that's an order I can follow.”

As soon as he stood to disrobe, you took your chance to shimmy out of your pants. Your thumbs were already hooked into the waistband of your panties, but you stopped upon watching his pants hit the floor. A sizable bulge forming a tent in the front of his boxers. You moved forward batting his hands away. Your fingers dipping into the waistband of his boxers. Another hand ghosting over his bulge.

"Nice of you to stand at attention for me," you teased.

His laugh was laced with the undertones of a groan, “Well, when the occasion's right.”

After he gave the okay, his boxers were soon around his ankles. Your gaze plastered on what was hiding underneath.

“We don't have t-”

“Oh no, you're bringing that over here.”

He chuckled returning to his post. His lips seeking out yours. The pressure of his exposed cock against your thigh adding to your thinning patience to have him inside you.

You teeth grazed his bottom lip, “Get on your back.”

His arms wrapped around you as he rolled. Your chests pressed flush to each other. You offered another kiss before shifting to straddle him. His cock offering a delighted throb at being nestled between your sopping folds. Your hips rocked against his, earning a groan that trailed off into a whine.

“Feels so good already.”

Your fingers closed around his length as you lined him up with your entrance.

“Then you'll love this.”

The cheeky reply on his lips died in favor of a gasp. His hands moving to grip your hips. His head lulling back into the pillows. You stayed still to allow your body to adjust to his size. The stuttering twitches of his hips almost eliciting a giggle from you.

“Kriff, you're tight.” He gritted out, fingers pressing harder into your hips.

“I'll move in a minute,” You soothed, your fingertips skating over his chest, “just relax and let me show you how much I've wanted you.”

The look that met yours was equal parts adorable and sexy. His pupils blown wide from lust with warmth swirling within his irises the color of whiskey, and you wanted nothing more than to drink him in.

After a few moments, you gave an experimental rock of your hips. A white hot lance of pleasure shot up your spine. Your gaze locked to the ceiling as your rocking soon became shallow thrusts. Hardcase's strings of whispered praises spurring you onward.

When you tore your eyes away from the ceiling, the sight below was almost your undoing. His chest rose and fell with his ragged breaths. A sheen of sweat had begun to form on his temples. Grabbing one of his hands, you guided his fingers to your folds. His trigger finger resting upon your pearl.

“Case, please.”

Who was he to deny such a request?

It took little guidance apart from demonstrating that circling your pearl resulting in your heat giving him a squeeze. Soon he was easing you toward the peak like a pro. Circling in one direction only to change directions moments later. Alternating pressures and speeds to milk more of those sweet noises from you.

Much too soon for your liking, the peak of your pleasure was upon you, and he never let up. His name a hoarse cry as your back curved. Euphoria exploding along every nerve.

A curse tore from his throat at your muscles clamping down around him. His hips bucking up to chase the tightness. His own end approaching at an alarming rate.

“Mesh'la, I..” He was cut off by his groan.

“In.” You managed before his back arched tight as a bowstring.

His hands pressing your hips to his. His cock pulsing as your pussy continued to milk every last drop of his seed from him.

Eventually you eased him out of you in favor of laying in his welcoming embrace.

“So, you do that with all your friends?” He teased.

You chuffed out a laugh, “Friends, no, but with a boyfriend..”

His lips cut you off.

#hardcase #hardcase x reader #hardcase x you #smut

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smileyerim · 3 years ago

Text

Glitter and Crimson

Inspired By: Glitter and Crimson by All Time Low

Pairing: Mark LeexReader

Genre: angst, fluff, suggestive [idol!mark, idol!y/n, exes to lovers]

Length: 6k

Warnings: mentions of sex

beta reader: @theonlysoph

. . .

Nights like these have always been your favorite. Nights where time flies so quickly you get whiplash every time you sneak a glance at your phone. Nights where you and Mark are simply extensions of one another, neither letting the other get too far away from the others’ touch. Nights where you feel so relaxed you’d be fair in assuming someone slipped something into your drink.

Tonight, though, as you lay horizontal on the edge of the hotel bed as Mark sits and plays with your hair that’s splayed across his lap, you don’t feel all of those wonderful feelings

It’s dumb, you think, so very dumb. You and Mark did things right. You informed your companies and your managers, you got approval to see each other before anything started. When your company gave you the ultimatum, get caught and break up, you and Mark took it very very seriously. So you and Mark never stepped foot outside together, and arrived at the hotel, your regular hotel, hours apart from each other. Your managers made sure the hotel staff signed NDA’s. When you visited his family in Canada, you posted on Instagram geotagging Seoul and changed your hair color. When your group won the rookie of the year award, Mark clapped politely despite how badly he wanted to shout in pride for you.

You did it all right. But now, it’s all falling down.

Two hours ago, right as you were checking into the hotel room, you got a text from your manager.

Manager: call me now.

It brought shivers up your spine, as she’s never been so forward with you, always preferring to send texts, or at least give you an agenda for the phone call she would have with you. It only takes her 2 rings to answer as you stand in the hotel elevator, pressing the same 14th floor button you press every week.

“Are you alone?” She says, and you swallow, answering her with a whispered yes.

“Ok, listen to me, we just got a tip from Dispatch–” and your heart sinks, you know what’s coming.

“Yeah?” You say, as the elevator door opens up.

“I’m sorry, there’s nothing they’ll say or do to negotiate with us, they just told us so we could prepare early–” She rambles on, and you notice your hands are shaking as you insert your key card into the slot.

“Get on with it.” You say, entering the foyer to your suite, the smallest bit of relief washing over you as you see the same old pair of red high top converse by the door as you take your own shoes off.

“You and Mark are being exposed as the Dispatch New Years couple at 1AM.” As much as you knew what was coming, it still took your breath away. Mark exits the bedroom after hearing you enter and pulls you into a hug as you cry, barely paying attention to the instructions your manager is giving you as carefully as she can manage over the phone.

“Can you just– can you text me instead?” You ask, moving your face up from where it was previously pressed against Mark’s shoulder to speak to her. When she hangs up, 2 minutes pass before your phone vibrates twice, indicating an incoming text.You let Mark lead you to lay down on the bed with him.

So now you’re here, all the tears emptied from your eyes to last you a while. You’ve said all you can, every frustrating thought you have about the entire experience, every “We should have–” and “What if we did–” imaginable.

Mark’s been mainly silent, either nodding along to your claims or interjecting to argue with you for a moment. Out of the two of you, you’re the much more emotional one, choosing to vent your feelings to process them instead of thinking them through. Mark knows this in the same way he knows everything else about you like he knows himself, and allows you to have your time. When he does finally speak up and share his mind, you’re surprised by what you hear.

“Do you ever sorta feel, I dunno, temporary?” You get what he means, you feel that way too and that makes you want to cry even more. Especially belonging to a mid-tier girl group. You don’t imagine the public will have much interest in you after you eventually disband and move on. Mark, however, has found much more success than you have. It’s ironic, though, that no matter what, you’ll both feel the same cold emptiness when the spotlight does eventually die out on you, it does for everyone. You hum in affirmation, finding his eyes as his hand stops his movement on your scalp.

“Yeah, I do.”

“Is this worth it then? Yeah, it’s our careers and stuff, but if we’re eventually going to be irrelevant to the public, is it worth throwing us away?” You don’t know what to say, so you just sit up and straddle his waist, lying your hands on his shoulders and looking into your favorite pair of eyes. Sometimes Mark is really difficult to read, as much as he wears his heart on his sleeve. He’s always been the stable one, the rock for both of you, the leader in your relationship. So as vulnerable and honest as he is with you, he has one hell of a poker face. Both of you do, you have to when you work in this industry. Right now, as you sit here, he lets the mask fall for a moment and shows you how scared he is through his eyes. You say nothing still, tucking your body into his and letting him sigh into your neck and squeeze you tight into him. It’s not long before he falls back, taking you with him so you’re laying on top of him. You can’t help but squeal as he falls, giggling before placing a slow kiss on his lips.

“Fuck, I’m going to miss you so much.” He says with sad eyes when you pull away. The implications are strong, you’re well aware of what tonight is.

“Just so you know, there’s no throwing us away. Ever. Even if–” and tears are starting to pool in your waterline, Mark places a gentle hand on your cheek, thumb ready to catch your tears and wipe them when they fall again.

“Even if tomorrow is the end of us for a while, I’ll never be done with you.” The tears do fall, just two, and Mark is quick to wipe them away and kiss your cheek in a comforting manner.

You stay like this for the rest of the night, speaking very few words besides a couple sad “I love you”’s while you make love for the last time.

The bell ring notification disturbs you as you lie breathless in the afterglow, head on Mark’s chest listening to his heartbeat fall back to a regular cadence.

“Let’s not check until we post the apology, okay? Stay with me here.” And you don’t know what he’s talking about, but he assumes it’s information his manager shared with him about damage control strategies for your meeting with the companies in less than 5 hours.

“Okay.” You say, nodding and getting up to turn both of your phones off for the night. His arms are wide open, waiting for you to return to him under the covers.

. . . . . .

The next morning there’s no sneaking around like there used to be, leaving the hotel room at the same time as Mark, grabbing his hand as he hands in your keys for check out at the front desk. You walk with your hands intertwined down the street to the SUV waiting for the both of you at the end of the block. If people see and recognize you, neither of you notice as you realize how much you’ve missed out on by having to be so secretive.

“This is sorta nice, that I can finally do this.” He says, squeezing your hand and brings it up to his lips to press a kiss to the back of your hand as you walk. That makes you laugh a sad laugh as he opens your car door for you, letting you slide in before he comes in with you.

At the company, sitting in a way too brightly lit conference room for how little sleep you got last night, it hits you and the anger comes back. The room is packed full, your two main managers sit on either side of you, the same for him. The CEO’s to both of your companies sit at the heads of the table, and PR representatives and administrative assistants scatter themselves around.

It’s crazy to you to have such a packed room for something so trivial as dating news. You’re two kids in your early twenties, of course you’re going to date. You surely wouldn’t care if you were a fan, so what’s the fuss? You just want to go back to that hotel room bed, back to before the announcement, back to before all of this. You want to walk away from this meeting with Mark Lee as your boyfriend, as your future husband like he promised he would be a couple of months ago.

Introductions are made, thankfully yours done on your behalf by your manager to your left. Mark puts on his idol face, playing pretend that he’s okay as he politely introduces himself personally to every person in the room, thanking them for their effort to come in on a holiday. You have the energy and the ability to do the same, but you have no desire to put on your own idol face today. Right now you’re a heartbroken woman first, not an idol. Hopefully they understand.

The meeting begins officially and you learn that they planned for you and Mark to post personal handwritten apologies on your instagram pages. You would have known that if you had paid attention earlier. Apparently all has been taken care of already, both of your notes having been written out already. As your manager does a final read through of the apology she wrote for you to your fans, you can’t help but scoff.

Because you’re not sorry for sneaking around behind your fans’ back.

You’re not sorry for going to that hotel restaurant.

Above all, you’re especially not sorry for falling helplessly in love with Mark Lee.

As you find his eyes across the conference room table as his manager begins reading out his own fake handwritten apology, you realize that in this industry love isn’t enough to sustain happiness.

After all, how could you and Mark be happy, if happiness just simply wasn’t meant for you two?

When the meeting ends and the posts are up, you do your best to hold back the tears to save the smallest amount of dignity you have remaining. When the meeting is closed and everyone preps to leave, he says your name from across the table. It kills you to ignore him and leave him hanging in this way, but there’s no point.

“See you around, Mark.” you avoid his eyes and grab his hand, squeezing lightly and letting go. You don’t know what his face looks like, if he looks as disheartened as yours, or if he’s kept his idol facade on. You don’t want to know, Mark Lee isn’t your boyfriend anymore, you aren’t meant to care anymore.

So you go home, lay low for a couple of weeks as you prepare for your new comeback and never ever check your Instagram or search your name on the internet. Your managers bother you to reply to some Bubble messages and interact online, but you can’t bring yourself to open up the opportunity to see what people are saying about you, much preferring to live in ignorance until people eventually forget, just like they always do.

. . . . .

Two years later, you’re still not over Mark. The public has for the most part forgiven you for dating, the entire situation actually proving to be great for publicity, your music video views having skyrocketed, shooting you and your group into one of the top groups in the industry. At every awards show you win at least one esteemed title. You’ve personally become the most popular member, snatching brand deals left and right.

When your group and NCT promote on the same shows, or perform at the same festivals, or walk the same red carpet, you’re too busy to notice or even think about him being there. You still, however, excuse yourself to the restroom every time NCT goes to perform at any of those award shows. If you, even for a moment, allowed yourself to think about how close yet so far he is, you’d begin to spiral. So avoidance and ignorance become your best friends, and you find yourself gaining your own idol face. And you wear that idol face everywhere you go. Even wearing the idol face when you’re in the privacy of your home, and when you’re in meetings with your company assigned therapist. You’re afraid that if you let it slip, allow the hurt to come in, allow the longing for him to make its home in your heart again, you’ll never be able to put that wall back up. So it stays up always, and the pain of your break up and the longing for him.

And suddenly, you’re six years into your contract, having found enough success to buy your own apartment just one block away from the hotel you used to stay at with Mark before your break up 2 years ago. It’s lonely living alone, you realize. Having gone from living with your family, then the trainee dorms, then the dorm with your group.You thought this is what you wanted, but you’re growing to realize you despise having so much empty room.

You hate it, especially when the loneliness becomes just a little bit too tempting one night. The loneliness teetering like a wrecking ball about to slam into the wall of your heart. You almost find yourself dialing Mark’s number when the right side of your bed is just a little bit too cold for your liking, but you stop yourself. Lie to yourself that you don’t miss him. Make the excuse that you made a promise to your company, and another scandal is the last thing you need with contract resigning negotiations around the corner. You’ve lawyered up to argue for a 45% increase in your profit cut on your album sales, if the company finds out you’ve ignored the rules they gave you, you could kiss those profits goodbye. You lie to yourself that one night spent with him would not be worth it to throw that away.

So you don’t text or call him, lying to yourself that you have no desire to for months to come, never allowing the heartbroken tears to slip out of your eyes late at night after an exhausting day, no matter how much you want to. Your best kept secret.

. . .

Everything comes crashing down, your emotional wall and idol face, on a random Tuesday in May.

Your doorbell rings and you open the door to a terrified looking Mark Lee holding a bouquet of pink roses.

“What the fuck?” is all you can let out when you make eye contact with him, your heartbeat quickening to the point it barely feels like you have one anymore.

“Uh, hi. I heard somewhere online that you’re supposed to bring roses to a housewarming. So uh,” He extends his arm to hand the flowers to you, “here ya go, I guess.”

You don’t grab the flowers, still absolutely shocked at the boldness from him. Is this real? Is he really here? You want to pinch yourself awake from this nightmare.

“I’ve lived here for like a year and a half.” is the smart response you have for him, and you feel like you’re about to faint from the way he looks so absolutely desperate.

“Yeah, I know.” How does he know? Who told him? Why is he here?

You continue to stand, shocked and still as you stare at him, mouth agape. The lines between relief, excitement, and terror are all so thin, you’ve never felt more overwhelmed in your life.

“Would you just let me in, Y/N?”

Still just as shocked as before, you step to the side to allow him to brush past you and enter into your apartment. Your apartment. Mark Lee is back, he’s here, he’s in your apartment. He wants to talk to you. You’re going to talk to him.

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

“So, you probably have a lot of questions, and I’m sorry that I dropped in on you like this out of nowhere.” He said after he was finally seated on your sofa. Standing at the edge of your rug seeing him sit there alone now makes you realize just how big your apartment is, and how lonely it is to be here all alone.

“Yeah.” You say, moving to sit on your coffee table, facing him and bumping your knees together. You haven’t felt this close to him in years and the faint musky smell of his classic cologne is making you dizzy. You missed everything about him, sure, but his scent was one of the hardest things to let go of.

“I just– I missed you.”

“I know.” Because you miss him too, what you had isn’t something you just move on from. It grows with you, but never truly leaves you alone. If there’s anything these 2 years have taught you it’s that.

“I’ve been missing you for such a long time. Like way too long, and I sorta just remembered today that one conversation we had a while ago about marriage, and how I’m not even close to being okay with that not being a part of my future anymore. Like, I want that.” He’s grabbing your hand, and you feel the familiar sting in your nostrils that tell you that you’re beginning to cry. Of course you are. Mark Lee is here. Your Mark Lee is here, confessing his love to you again. It feels like the first time he told you he liked you 4 years ago, the nerves are the same,but the emotions are much stronger now. A really big portion of your heart belongs to him this time, you have huge emotional stock in this conversation.

“I want that so damn bad. More than I’ve ever wanted anything. And I don’t care if I lose my career, my fans, whatever. I want to marry you. I want my future to be you. All of this–” He takes his spare hand and wipes your cheeks, you’re crying again. That’s no surprise to either of you.

“All of this is pointless if I’m not working towards a future I believe in. And this is it, this is the future I believe in. It’s you, Y/N.”

“Holy shit Mark,” you say, leaning forward and slamming your lips together. Words can’t describe how you feel, how kissing him for the first time in years feels like finally getting a deep breath of air after sticking your head under water for too long, how it feels like laying down in a bed with fresh sheets after a long day, returning home after a long work trip away.

“Did you just fucking propose to me?” You say, leaning away to his lovestruck, shining eyes. He’s gripping the sides of your face with an insane grip, as if he’s afraid you’ll slip away from him again.

“I think I did.” He says, laughing to himself. And kissing you on the nose, his own eyes shining with happy tears.

“Oh my God, do you have a ring?” You say, moving to straddle his hips and sit on his lap, hugging him close to you.

“I– fuck– no I don’t. So, forget that the whole marriage proposal thing happened. I didn’t propose.” And you can’t help but laugh at him, throwing your head back enjoying the weight of his arms around your waist for the first time in forever.

He grabs your chin, forcing you to look into his glimmering eyes, “But I will, and I’ll do it soon. And it’ll be perfect, with the biggest diamond you’ve ever seen, and everyone will know. Your fans and mine, the company, whoever, everyone will know. I promise.” You don’t think you could contain the smile painting across your face if you tried, as you nod, kissing him once more.

He pushes your shoulders away lightly to add one more note, “That is, Y/N, if you’ll have me back.” And he looks nervous, like he’s afraid you’d say no. As if you’d ever dream of saying no to him.

“Do you hear yourself, Mark Lee? Of course I’ll have you back, you’ve always been mine.”

. . . . .

The next day, you tell your companies and managers. His company threatens to drop him from the label, and when Mark gives a cavalier response to the threat, they rescind. Your managers aren’t surprised to see your hands intertwined under the table, fighting on both of your behalf to come to an agreement.

A week later, your companies give in to your stubbornness and release the official statements that you’re back together. You disable all instagram comments and DM’s.

A month later, Mark moves into your apartment, and it almost gives you whiplash at just how easy it was to change your sad, lonely apartment into a home. Our home. You’re happy to get to call it that now.

. . . . .

Three years later, both you and Mark have left your groups and your companies officially, both of you resigning with different agencies who offer you much more money and much more freedom. You were able to take your manager with you to the new company, the new company compensating her better as well. Mark remains partially contracted with his old company as a mentor to the new generation of his group, and it feels like he’s finally found his place. It took him 15 years, but he finally found his passion, he finally found his place. You’re extremely proud of his new achievements.

You, on the other hand, have also found your rhythm behind the scenes. You’ve been able to assist your new company in recruiting, training, and preparing to debut a new girl group. These are girls you believe in, who you see a bright future for. You’ve played a heavy hand in their styling, and have begun to play a sort of advocacy role for them, breaking the cycle of unfair and harsh treatment you, your members, and Mark faced when you were in the industry as idols. Unlike Mark, you still make music. It isn’t nearly as successful as your former group’s music. You have yet to have your first win on a music show as a soloist, but you aren’t really bothered. It’s never been about the money or the achievements for you, as much as your former heartbroken self would like to tell you it is. You write your own music now, mainly sappy and slow love songs, and nobody has to question who it’s about or who it’s for. That fact makes you smile every time you get to release something new, which is infrequent. Your girls preparing for their debut take up most of your time. That’s okay with you, though. You care much more about continuing your legacy than holding onto it personally when it’s trying to die.

You and Mark are good now, like really really good. It took you a while, but you finally discovered the sweet spot in your relationship to the public between sharing too much, and being too private. The world knows of your love, but for the most part, what you have with him stays between you and him, and it’s exactly how it should’ve been the entire time.

Sometimes with your schedules, you and Mark pass like ships in the night in your home, both of you constantly running late to some activity for the groups you’re individually taking care of. But neither of you have ever canceled your Thursday night date night, placing your relationship at priority. Both of you figure if you had to fight so hard to have each other it’s not worth it to let it slip away.

Except for this Thursday.

Mark: hey babe. gotta cancel tn.

Mark: jae rolled his ankle really bad, im gonna take him to the hospital.

Mark: im really sorry :(

Mark: but hey! arent ur girls performing show champion tn? u should go!

Mark: sorry, stalked ur work calendar ;P

Mark: but fr, dont wait up for me pls

Mark: get ur rest. i know its been a long week

Mark: love u forever, see u in the morning!!!!!

It stings a little to get that string of text, but you understand wholeheartedly why he’s canceling on you. He’s always had a big heart, but finding a large group of boys to care for has truly brought out that side of him.

Y/N: its okay love

Y/N: ill probably just stay home tho

Y/N: the girls get nervous if i watch them perform sometimes

Y/N: i dont wanna spring that on them last minute

Y/N: tell jae to feel better!

Y/N: ill see u tomorrow morning baby :) love u

Sighing, you remove your heels off your feet, moving to slump on your new sofa and relax for the evening, until your phone buzzes again.

Mark: no u should go

Mark: really

Mark: itll be good to test them

Mark: learned that in my mentorship + leadership class last week

Mark: they need the push

Mark: so just go tonight

Mark: please

That’s odd, you think. Mark has been taking leadership classes, but he’s mainly been criticizing them for being cheesy. Suddenly he’s pressuring you to listen to the advice his class taught him, advice he doesn’t even follow himself?

Y/N: whats going on with u? u hate that class

Mark: i just think it would be good for u to step up

That makes your jaw drop, who is he to say that to you?

Y/N: excuse me? are you saying what i think youre saying?

The text comes in much faster than ever before. Your phone has your full attention as you watch the three dots at the bottom of your screen dance as he types.

Mark: fuck

Mark: no baby

Mark: im sorry that came out wrong

Mark: but just trust me

Mark: go to the performance

Mark: itll be worth it

You heave out a sharp breath as you respond. As much as you love this man, he can be absolutely infuriating sometimes.

Y/N: fine.

Y/N: but were talking about this when u get home

You shut your phone off and slip your shoes back on after sending the last text. It’s confusing, he never acts this way. He’s never insisted on you doing anything ever, always being just a little bit too much of a pushover to your stubbornness. Tonight, apparently, you going to the fifth music show recording this week meant enough to Mark that he borderline insulted your leadership abilities.

So you go, huffing and puffing the entire ride there as you reread the text thread over and over again in the back of your company SUV.

“We’re here, miss.” The driver turns around to inform you. That was short, you think as you thank him and look out the window for the first time tonight.

Except this isn’t the Show Champion service entrance. This is the Han river. Approximately 3 miles in the wrong direction of the studio.

“Sir, I don’t think you took me to the right place.” You say, doing your best to bite back the irritation that threatens to seep through your words. By the time you get to Show Champion and through security, the girls will have already finished their recordings.

On almost perfect timing, the opposite door to you opens on the SUV. You’re shocked to see Mark standing on the other side, giggling at your confused face.

“Surprised, baby? Come on.” He says, reaching a hand out to you.

“What? What do you mean? What surprise?” You say, eyeing him up and down, not grabbing his hand.

“Oh, come on baby, trust me. Surprise.” He says, slowing down the last word as he leans in closer and offers you his hand more.

Although you’re still a little bit angry at him, you grab his hand and allow him to pull you out of the car.

He thanks the driver and closes the door behind you, waving him off as he drives away.

“Mark, what the hell is happening?” you demand, squeezing his fingers. He just laughs and leans in, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Baby, relax! I just wanted to surprise you.” He rubs a soothing thumb over the back of your hand.

“So Jae’s okay?”

He nods, “Jae’s fine. He’s at home or whatever. I didn’t even see him today.”

You frown, “And my girls?”

He giggles, “They aren’t performing tonight. I figured you’d catch me on that one.”

“So what was all of this for?” You say, relaxing a bit at the snippets of clarity he’s offered you.

“I won’t give it up that easily, baby. Trust me, let’s go.” He begins to walk, taking you with him from your intertwined hands.

You hold back your questions as you walk, knowing he’d get significantly irritated if you kept on asking questions much longer.

Suddenly, it comes into view and you gasp. A beautiful candlelit arch sits on the riverbank, pillows scattered around a basket with a bottle of wine and two glasses sitting on top.

You sneak a glance over to him, and he’s smiling, already watching you.

“Mark–” you say, a hand coming to cover your mouth as you stare.

“You like it?” He half whispers. You stop walking to face him.

“I love it baby, thank you.” You say, giving him a short peck before walking over.

“What’s this for?” You say after sitting down, analyzing the very expensive bottle of wine.

“Stop asking questions. Would you like to open it up?” He says and you nod, still shocked at the romance of this moment.

Mark’s always been sweet, and in your opinion precious and thoughtful enough to put rom-com boy’s to shame. This, however, is on another level. He’s never done anything like this before.

You’re not an idiot, so your brain begins to wander to what possibly this could mean. You don’t want to name it just yet, afraid of the disappointment if what you think may be happening isn’t actually happening. So you just enjoy this, drinking wine with the love of your life and watching the ships pass by.

He’s looking at you differently tonight, something beyond the loving gaze he’s always given you. You’re inclined to say that his eyes are attempting to communicate something more to you, something deeper than the already intensely passionate love you share. You feel like blushing every time he stares deeply while you speak.

“So, baby. I think it’s time I tell you what we’re here for.” He says, standing and offering a hand to help you up too. You’re a little wine tipsy, so it’s a difficult task in your stilettos, but he eventually does get you to stand, keeping a stabilizing palm on the small of your back. You giggle and lean in to kiss him again. He doesn’t pull away this time, letting your languid kiss go on. He sighs and pulls you closer into him so that you’re flush against his body. Eventually, you pull away, your curiosity getting the better of you.

“Tell me.” You whisper, biting your lip and staring into his eyes. He looks nervous now, and you’re beginning to believe your suspicion about the night may have been right. You definitely aren’t wearing the right outfit if it truly is the occasion you think it is.

He lets out a shaky breath and blinks a couple of times.

“Uh– yeah. So– uh. Hold on.” He says, patting his pockets.

“Fuck– wait babe. Uh, close your eyes.” He says when he discovers his pockets are empty. You giggle, blushing like crazy and take your hands to cover your eyes. The nerves are beginning to bubble in your belly as you hear him curse to himself and rifle through the basket on the ground.

“Okay, open.” He says and you uncover your eyes to see him standing in front of you, blushing just as much as you are, but a nervous look painting his face.

“Hi, baby.” You say through a giggle, smiling at him.

“Hi,” He says, looking down and avoiding eye contact with you.

“Relax, love.” You say, reaching out and smoothing your hands over his shoulders, pushing them down from their tense position.

He huffs a silent laugh, “I’m being obvious, aren’t I?” He says, still keeping a hand behind his back.

“A little,” you say, using one of your hands to rub his bicep. “but keep going.” You whisper calmingly at him. He breathes out another shaky breath and whispers an “okay”.

“So, uh, Y/N, you know how far we’ve come to get here. And I'm so damn proud of us. I’m proud of how hard we’ve had to work to get here, like to get to each other, and to get to the point that we’re at today so that I can do this. And it’s all because of you, like how amazing, and special, and wonderful, and perfect you are that we’ve been able to make it this far. I’m seriously so fucking lucky that I get to love you, that I got to love you for the 2 years we were together beforehand, the 2 years we were apart, and the 3 years we have going strong together now. Thank you for letting me love you. And you know, like you have to know that you’re the love of my life. Like, you’re my future. You’re my fucking everything. So,” and he steps back, and moves to get down on one knee. You knew it was coming, but you still gasp, hand moving to cover your open mouth, the other going into his hand as he looks up at you, finally revealing what he was hiding behind his back.

“Y/N, will you marry me?” He says, opening the box to reveal a stunningly huge ring, staring at you with the same shimmery eyes as the first time he asked you.

“Oh my God, yes!” You say, and he stands, smiling the biggest smile of his life, picking you up and twirling you in his arms as you kiss. You’ve genuinely never felt happier than you do right now, your heart finally feeling exactly where it belongs as he lets you down and shakily grabs your left hand, slipping the beautiful ring on your finger.

“She said yes!” He yells to the path behind you, where unbeknownst to you, a huge crowd of your friends and family have gathered to watch the event. He raises your intertwined hands, up to the crowd as they cheer. You’re crying, like you always seem to when you think about how much you love Mark, feeling elated and so very in love as you look at him, giving him one final smashing kiss when you lock eyes.

That night after the last guest leaves your shared apartment from the engagement party that was organized for you, you lay in bed, head on Mark’s bare chest, admiring the way your ring glimmers under the dim moonlight.

“Did I do good?” He says, and you lean up to look at his expectant, satisfied face. You kiss him, and he accepts that answer and wraps his arms around you and attempts to deepen the kiss.

That night, after you made love for the first time in your shared bed as an affianced couple, lying in the safest place ever, Mark’s arms in the afterglow, you realize that it was all worth it. The years spent apart, the pain of breaking up, the confusion of getting back together again, the fighting with your public personas.

All of that led you to here, right now, with the love of your life.

You did everything right.

A/N:

im here to break hearts and put them back together OK. and HOLY SHIT I wrote this in 2 days and edited it in 1. The idea for this fic originally was a lot sadder with a lot more dramatic shit, but mark isn’t that kind of man and i wanted to be as true to character as possible. So much love for soph for beta reading this fic and being so patient w all my empty promises to review her notes and then not doing it for like another week LOL. talk to me in my asks!! lemme know what u thought!

taglist (if u rb’d the teaser i added u to the taglist my b if u didnt want to!) : @enjennie @chitaphrrrr @byunfirstlady @unmethodicals @matryoooshka @prodhyck

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bellatrixobsessed1 · 4 years ago

Text

Kissing Dead Pearls (Part 15)

Warning for blood and death in this chapter.

She had been there when her mother died. She had been there when their sunny day turned so abruptly sour. When the clouds unleashed a big one without warning. It was just like the most recent storm, the news anchors had failed to adequately report the incoming storm and so they, alongside, several other families had gotten caught in it.

The day had been so kind and promising. Ursa packed their lunch, three grilled hot dogs that Ozai had left for them before heading off to help out at the marina, a bag of hotdog buns, a bowl of watermelon, and several water bottles. Zuko, newly sixteen, insisted that they bring some of the leftover cake too.

Ursa had caved and they were on their way out for a day of shell hunting and tubing. Azula couldn’t have been more pumped, she knew that she would come out bruised and sore, she always did in her successful efforts to outlast Zuko. In doing so, she had taken some rather hard falls. She very vividly remembers a summer ago when they’re competition got particularly heated. Both she and Zuko were clinging on for the sake of their pride. Typically they could last a good ten minutes of Ursa speeding over the waves before a good bump would dislodge one of them. They were on minute twelve. Her hands were cramped and achy from clenching the tube’s nylon handles for so long. But Zuzu had still been clinging and she would too. He let go first. She found out why soon enough. He informed her later that she had been tossed several feet into the air and did several backflips both before and after hitting the water. It had knocked the wind out of her and her entire body ached for days. But she had won.

The sky was so blue. The clouds were fluffy and white and the seagulls circled and squabbled over dropped french fries. Nobody seemed to have noticed when they suddenly disappeared. Maybe if they had, they would have known something in the air was amiss.

But everyone remained, a group of college kids at a volleyball net, a family building sandcastles, a different family departing with fishing poles at the ready, and a couple and their dog throwing a frisbee.

Ursa arranged their lunch and as they ate, she inquired about how Azula was enjoying her first year of high school so far. She had said that she was only a month in and needed more time to decide, but that she loved her new surf team so far. It was much more serious and competition driven. And then Zuko got to talk about how well his cooking was improving.

She remembers the smell of sea and barbeque in the air as she helped Ursa load the rest of their shells into the back of the car. She remembers the smell of the sunscreen that Ursa sprayed on her when she refused to do it herself. She remembers how her mother too smelled of sunscreen but also faintly of strawberry perfume.

Strawberry sunscreen, still lingers in her mind. Strawberry sunscreen is what she remembers most about her mother.

She tries to focus on strawberry sunscreen instead of strawberry colored blood mixing with seafoam.

They had just secured the innertube, a bright orange and blue thing with a company logo and name plastered in bright red on the front. The air seemed electrified, and in retrospect, maybe Azula should have said something. But she hadn’t and they were well into the ocean a crackle of lightning upset the waves.

It happened so unprocessablely fast. One minute there was sun and in an instant there was an impenetrable curtain of rain. How quickly fluffy and white had turned to wispy and concrete.

They abandoned their tube and hurried into the boat. Her heart had never raced faster and she thanked every higher power there was that she had Zuko had been so furiously competitive. They probably wouldn’t have had the ability to cling on for so long otherwise. Even still she was shaking by the time Ursa managed to reel them in.

There was no time for relief, she helped her mother navigate while Zuko helped hold her steady. Azula could see the shore. She could also see a boat turn over, spilling several fishing poles. She hadn’t known it then, but she would later find out that a girl in her class named Yue and her family had perished.

She zeroed in on the shore and guided her mother around rocks and debris. They were going to make it, they were going to…

She hadn’t spotted the reef on time. She underestimated the tides.

The tides pulled them right into the reef and shredded the bottom of their boat. They were going down and fast. Lifejackets were no match for such ruthless tides. She saw Zuko go overboard first. The same wave took her mother. She had room in her arms for one of them.

She emerged from the water with her legs and arms shredded. Blades of coral proved to be just as merciless as the tides. The sensation was searing and blood trickled down her arms and legs. She felt so dizzy and weak. She couldn’t tell how much of the blood was hers and how much was Zuzu’s.

She dragged him to the shore and scanned the water for her mother. The woman was fighting the waves, and for a moment, Azula thought that she would make it. Maybe she would have if their boat hadn’t…

Azula’s memory goes blank there, she just remembers seeing blood on the seafoam. Blood like strawberries and foam like sunscreen.

She never did tell Zuzu that she had to choose between he and their mother. She never told father.

.oOo.

He writes the letter out, it is sloppy with haste, but he thinks that it is to the point. It will probably speak for him better than he can. He bunches it up in his hand and shoves it into his pocket, alongside his first AA chip.

He tries the beach first. He finds Zuko and Katara, he hears them calling out for Azula but the girl is nowhere in sight. Nor does he spot Jet. It occurs to him that they are looking in the wrong place. Of course she won’t be on the beach, not as furious and upset as she is. His second guess is the cliffside, but he would have seen her already. Those are her two usual spots. There is one other.

Ozai considers taking the car, it would be alot faster but he thinks that walking is the way to go. He isn’t one to place his bets on gut instincts, that is what Iroh does. This time he does though, he walks for several miles. Walks until his already spent and exhausted body threatens to give. What a horrid way to spend his birthday. It is his own fault, he reminds himself.

He takes a deep breath and resumes his walk until he comes upon a rickety old park. It had been a dilapidated wooden accident waiting to happen when Azula was just a child, now it is completely crumbled. The only thing left standing is a rusty old merry-go-round, the only metal structure at the park. The shoreline that it is built on is a cluttered mess of driftwood, broken shells, and pollution; glass bottles, both broken and intact, deflated beach balls, discarded plastic shovels, forgotten goggles now fogged with algae, and empty beer cans.

It smells potently of dead fish and runoff. Ozai isn’t sure why she still wanders over here, but he does find her. She is perched upon a structurally unsound picnic table. Jet stands next to her, likely aware that any more weight will collapse the rotting table. He has a hand on her back and is rubbing ever so tentatively while she rather openly vents.

Jet notices him first. “She doesn’t wanna talk to you, old man!” He brazenly declares.

Ozai opens his mouth to berate the boy for his brash disrespect. Instead he says, “no talking involved, just give this to her.” He leaves no opening for the boy to decline. He isn’t sure if he should stand here and wait as she reads it or if he should begin making his way back to the lighthouse and hope for the best.

He stands with his arms folded while he waits for Jet to hand his daughter the note. He never drops his glare as he passes it off. Azula looks briefly at him before unfolding the note.

He tries to read her expression as her eyes follow the lines. She sets the note aside and presses her lips together. Her brows crease and her eyes narrow, she fixes them straight on the crashing waves in front of her.

Ozai waits. She is drawing the minute out.

.oOo.

Azula isn’t quiet sure how to take it. She can’t recall a time when her father has ever apologized to her--or anyone for that matter--vocally or otherwise. She fidgets with the note for a moment. It is very short and concise, a little lacking, but it is an apology no less. An apology and a thank you. She rubs her lips against one another and squeezes Jet’s hand harder. “Why?” She asks at last.

“Because,” he answers. “I don’t want to lose you too.”

“No.” She says. “If you appreciate what I tried to do for you then why? Why did you get angry with me? Why were you angry with me before.”

“Before?”

“You wouldn’t let me visit you. It’s because I tried to leave, isn’t it?”

The statement seems to take ten years off of his life. Suddenly he looks so tired. “I wouldn’t let you visit me because there are some things that you don’t need to see. You already saw your mother…” he trails off.

Her stomach knots all over again.

“I wasn’t angry with you.” He says again. “I’m not angry with you.”

“Then why did you…”

He rubs his hands over his face. “I just wasn’t expecting company, Azula. You don’t like to be seen before you’ve had a chance to fix your hair and makeup.” He tries.

It is a fair point. Even still… “I thought that it would be a nice surprise. You know Katara and I thought that you would want to meet…” She trails off, unsure if this is a good time.

“Your boyfriend?” Ozai guesses. She opens her mouth but he answers before she can ask, “I can’t imagine that he would be so bold if you were just a friend.”

Jet gives a slight chuckle.

Azula crosses her arms.

“Come home with me. We will gather your brother and Katara and have that cake. It would be a shame if you wasted all of that time cooking for nothing, yes?”

.oOo.

Azula nods. That slight pout doesn’t leave her face. She has grown so much, in the last two years. But there are still moments, still small flashes when he can see that she is only a child. “You are getting the smallest piece though.”

He rolls his eyes but he will let her have this one, it is fair enough all things considered.

She continues. “Cake is for grateful fathers.” This gets another chuckle out of Jet.

But he is grateful, and not just for the cake. He is thankful that she won’t walk the same path that he has. She is resilient--he can’t help but stare at the scars on her legs, she has too many of them for a girl so young. She is strong, maybe stronger than he is. And she is moving on, just as she had done with her mother.

“Your brother is going to be a bit harder to convince.”

Azula shakes her head, “he just doesn’t think that you’re trying. I think that he’ll come around when I tell him that you walked all of this way just to hand me a note.” She holds up her cellphone. “It was on the whole time.”

Ozai sighs, he always lets his temper drive out clear thinking. For once that is probably better. “Would that have been as effective?”

Azula thinks for a moment before shaking her head again. “You walked all that way just for me.” She flashes him a smug smile.

“That or he really wants some cake.” Jet comments with a shrug.

“He wants the cake because I made it.”

“We made it.”

“It was my idea!”

At least he can take comfort in that he hadn’t irreparably broken her mood. He can take comfort in that he hasn’t lost his girl.

#Avatar The Last Airbender #Azula #Zuko #Ozai #Ursa #Jet #Fanfiction #Sokkla

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kauladoeswriting · 4 years ago

Text

Life Will Change, Prologue

What you see here is possibly my weirdest passion project, and frankly I’m a little terrified to share it. But what the hell, I might as well get it over with. If I keep tweaking it it’ll never get posted. No beta we die like men. Yell at me if there’s any weird continuity errors.

While knowledge of neither series is necessarily needed, it will probably make it more enjoyable. Fandom: Rockman.EXE/Persona 5 Fusion Wordcount: 1764

AO3

Next Chapter

November 18th, 2016

After School...

"After him!"

The night sky glittered through the windows as Joker ran by, moving along the sills of the window with grace born in practice and time.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were intentionally leading them on," Nurse commented in his ear.

"Psh, nah. You know how no nonsense he is! He wouldn't do that!" Ribbon responded. Despite her words, her tone revealed she was as joking as Nurse.

"He's going to get caught if he doesn't stop," Rock scolded. "There's an air vent to your left, Joker. Take it."

"Lighten up, Rock!" crooned Light. "You and Nurse worry way too much!"

"Worry? You misunderstand me, Light. Joker's just an idiot." They could almost imagine Nurse tapping her foot without even seeing it.

"I think none of you are taking this with appropriate seriousness." Soldier jumped in. "The only ones even trying seem to be myself, Rock, and Popup." No one could see Soldier, as he was off by himself, but they could hear his frown loudly over the comms.

"Because we should act like a dog?" Light asked, immediately followed by a yelp as someone smacked him. If Joker had to guess, it was Ribbon or Popup.

"How about you're all a distraction and really need to be quiet?" Joker asked, grinning all the same. He had taken Rock's advice, pulling himself up into the vents and let himself out into maintenance hallways, avoiding the guards chasing him for now.

With a quick look around to make sure he really alone, he crept down the hallway, leaping from shadow to shadow. He ducked behind a plush chair as a pair of guards ran by, hoping to catch any one of the nine thieves currently running about the building. They ran by the leader, but of course, they didn’t notice him.

They never did.

Climbing through the building had led Joker to the upper floors. Okay, going up made things a little tougher, but he had accepted that escaping from down below was hopeless on foot. “HALT!”

Oh, wonderful. He was found again. How were they tracking him so fast, exactly?

“There’s no way around! Joker, you’ll have to fight your way through!” Rock’s voice echoed in his ear, the navigator trying his hardest to manage all of the escapes at once. (He really didn’t envy the navigator’s job.)

Drawing his sword from his sheath, he took a wide slash, striking both of the blob like security guards and causing them to dissolve. In a moment, they were more solid demons, something he could actually fight. Have to finish this quickly! Joker grabbed his mask, summing a figure with long flowing hair next to him. “Let’s do this in one shot.” The figure readied it’s blade, wreathed in dark energy.

“EIGAON!” The swordsman next to him drew his sword back, and then in one fluid movement, tore straight through the opposing shadow. Not waiting a moment longer, Joker drove his sword straight through the chest of the shadow’s friend, drawing his pistol quickly and shooting it for good measure.

“And that’s that.” He said, pleased, tucking his weapons back into their respective holsters. “Good one Joker! Now get going!” Rock encouraged.

“Watching him fight is fun, can we look for more things to- OW! Will you stop that?” Light complained, more shuffling as he evidently swung back this time. “Are you trying to get us in trouble?” Ribbon asked.

Shaking his head, Joker took off down the hall way, continuing his hunt for a safe way out. Whatever map he was using, apparently Rock was unable to give him more useful directions.

He was at the top of the building now, looking for a way out when the guards found him a second time. He could fight his way out, or he could do the fun thing…. How much did he feel like channeling Light?

With guards on both sides, and a 5 on 1 match seeming unlikely, even with his skill and variety, Joker decided that channeling Light was in fact the best option here. Pivoting on his heel, Joker faced the huge window directly to his left, and with a few steps back, launched himself straight into it, guarding his face with his arms. For the briefest of seconds, Joker let himself fly through the air, before shifting to head down and land on his feet. For a precious few seconds, Joker thought he might have actually made it outside safely, and that he’d escape from the building unharmed.

And then all at once, the world in front of him lit up with the spotlights of SWAT officers. Oh. Oh hell. Pivoting on his heel, Joker jumped up to grab the fire escape ladder, encouraged by the chanting of his teammates in his ears. He climbed as quickly as he could.

In the back of his mind, he could feel everyone yelling at him, warning of incoming danger. Not just his teammates either. Officers greeted him at the top of the ladder. Even though he knew they were coming, Joker couldn’t help looking surprised. Even more so, when they stomped on his hands, forcing him to let go and sending him spiraling back to the ground.

This time, Joker wasn’t able to control his plummet.

The following was a flurry of motion and noise, as his comm link was torn away and he lost contact with his teammates, amid their worried commentary. “So young, huh?” Commented one officer, grabbing Joker’s face and roughly examining it, as if to get an idea who he was behind his mask. “To think that an actual kid has been committing this string of crimes…” Joker hoped the glare came across the way he wanted it to. With his arms pinned with an adult’s full bodyweight to his back, there’s not much else he can do. “You were sold out, you know.” Another officer, this one far more arrogant sounding, knelt down next to Joker. “You can thank your teammates for this.”

And then Joker’s world went dark.

========

When Joker came to, it was not to the same beautiful building he had fallen asleep in. Rather, it was in a concrete room he had never seen before, with two officers staring him down. He blinked slowly, trying to process the world around him.

His face was bare. His mask was missing. And looking down revealed that he wasn’t wearing a a tuxedo of any kind, or any kind of weapons; just his day clothes.

“Assault, Murder, Grand Larceny, Obstruction of Justice, Property Damage, and more.” The officer was reading his charges. “Quite an impressive rap list for someone who is like, 17 years old?” He asks. Joker glared, not willing to respond to them. If they expect him to cooperate with them, they had another thing coming.

Apparently, the officer with the clipboard had the same idea. “Now, kid. You can make this easy, or you can make it hard. We have a confession prepped for you. All you have to do is sign.” Still not willing to open his mouth, Joker shook his head no, trying as much to shake the worry of his teammate’s safety as he is trying to push away the orders of the officer. He needed to hold his ground. They knew the plan, he had to trust they carried it out.

The officer didn’t agree with Joker’s vow of silence, shoved the chair over, throwing the teen to the ground. “Think you can be a real smart guy, eh? We’ll get your name, one way or another, kid.”

Blue eyes wandered to the camera in the back corner, behind the officer. The officer turned to see what Joker was looking at, and then laughed. “Are you hoping for the camera to save you kid? That someone will see this and come to your rescue? Let me burst your bubble; They don’t come to save criminals like you.” The clipboard is roughly shoved in Joker’s face again, as someone realized they should probably release his hands if they expected him to write. “Don’t even think about lying kid. You’ll just be caught immediately.” He chuckled, as if it were funny. “Not that you could anyways.” Deciding to cooperate to avoid another harsh hit like that, even though he was confused by the statement, Joker raised his hand to write his name on the clip board.

Ijuuin Enzan

The officers looked at the name for a moment. “Isn’t it that kid of that CEO…?” Asked one.

“The one who got in trouble over assaulting a politician?” The other officer confirmed it with a nod.

“You’re going away for a long time kid.” The one that had shoved the clipboard in his face kicked him again, almost completely for ‘good measure’ at this point.

And then he was alone.

=======

Enzan finally climbs to his feet and at least rights hs chair. He was stuck in this room for the foreseeable future. He was waiting for a certain someone, but that person had to actually show up… and a part of him couldn’t help but worry that all their planning was for naught.

Those worries were assuaged when a woman with her hair in a ponytail, wearing a clean pink suit with a blue tie. If anyone could make that look professional… “Ijuuin-kun. I apologize, but we’ll need to make this as quick as you can manage.” She got right to work, setting the folder in her arms down and spreading them across the table. “I have had some time bought for me by my superior, but unfortunately they seem insistent you don’t get a fair shot.” Enzan couldn’t say he was surprised. With a rap sheet like his, he can’t imagine anyone wanted to see him walk free. If only they knew….

“We have been told...things about how you committed your crimes.” Manabe began slowly. “However, the explanations are… spotty at best.”

Enzan nodded. They sounded unbelievable to him even know, and he had been at this for the better part of a year.

“They say you steal hearts, and fittingly, all those your target have make a complete 180 in their behavior. Ijuuin-kun, I need you to tell me everything so I can make an effective defense. I know their… methods, may make talking a little hard, but I need you to try.” Her nose crinkled a little bit at the comment. “You have to try.” “From the beginning?” Enzan spoke finally.

“From the beginning.” Manabe agreed.

“Well. It started in early April ...”

#megaman battle network #rockman.exe #mmbn #persona 5 #fanfic #life will change

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m3chanical-rhythm · 5 years ago

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(( hey guys. back for a little update on my silence. i put it under the read more for the sensitive topics. it’s long winded, as a fair warning.

No, i don’t want condolences or apologies. No, i don’t want to talk or vent outside of this post. Virtual hugs are about the only thing i’m accepting rn.

thank you for your patience and understanding. ))

(( For a while, i was really worried that I was going to be out of a job.

I work in education as a para for with-needs students (behavior and academic wise), as all the schools have shut down in my state. They’re working with teachers to provide services to students at home, but as a para, that doesn’t really do us a lot of good. Thankfully, the district reached out to confirm that we will all still be getting paid our normal monthly wages until June, which is how they normally work.

My laptop is barely hanging on, and i’m looking at getting it replaced with a desktop eventually. That’s expensive though, and it’s going to take some time.

I had plans that had been made for over a year with a group of friends, but at the VERY last second, the ones who were giving me a ride had to turn back and take care of their car. So while everyone else got to have a great time, i was the only person stranded at home and missed out.

The convention i’d been looking forward to in May has been cancelled thanks to COVID-19. On the plus side, i still have my plane tickets and plan to visit with friends during that time.

I applied to Lowe’s hardware for a second job (before i knew i would still be getting paid), and i’ll be having an interview on Tuesday. Being stuck at home is driving me nuts, and i’ll still need income somehow over the summer, so i was excited to get called back so soon for an interview. Fingers crossed that i get one of the 3 positions i applied for.

As if in a pattern, once one thing nice happens to me, something else has to fall through or go wrong. And this time, it was my great grandmother suddenly passing away.

She’d suffered many strokes, broken hips and replacements, and a slew of other health problems over the last, i wanna say 15 years. In the last 60 days, she’d suffered 3 more strokes. The first two were relatively small, and while she ended up back in the hospital after the second, she was quickly released and sent home. But this last one was a big one. She fell and broke her hip again, and was readmitted to get a procedure done to reduce the bleeding in her brain. They gave us good news, and expectations of a speedy recovery. But out of the blue, her organs suddenly began to shut down and she passed away 10 minutes after their hopeful outlook. Her service is this coming Saturday.

The last week has been absolute hell for my mental health and well being, and that's not counting the 8 days of my gastrointestinal hell that I suffered beforehand. I’m worried sick for my brother and mother, who are more susceptible to COVID-19 than my father and I because of preexisting health problems. I’m worried for my students at work, especially those at-risk and in less-than-ideal living conditions. I’m worried for my coworkers and their families, especially their children.

I’m stressed and worried to all hell, and i am so fortunate for my blessings. I’m still going to be able to take care of my dog, and help my family. My mom and dad still have work. I live at home so i don’t have any extra bills or expenses to worry about.

TLDR; The last 2 weeks have just been...a lot. And my writing muse has suffered for it. I appreciate all the patience and everyone who has stuck around despite my silence.

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inspired-by-the-music · 5 years ago

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Kai

requests are encouraged! please read my guidelines before submitting your request

Genre: university!au, features Sehun and Chanyeol as the reader’s longtime friends & SHINee’s Taemin as Jongin’s best friend (bc i never stop being taemin trash lol). not really fluff or angst, but happy endings abound!

Word Count: 3,140

Note: this is an idea i’ve been developing for a while. it ended up being pretty long because it’s about one of my favorite themes: inaccurate reputations.this is an idea i explored in depth in my bts social media Any Other Name, which is referenced as a novel in this story. please enjoy!

As far as you could tell from your first month at your new university, there was only one rule: avoid the boy named Kai. Your roommate, a girl named Soo-ah, introduced you to an anonymous girls-only blog that meticulously detailed dramatic confrontations between other students. In short, it was a gossip website; however, instead of discussing the lives of celebrities, it was devoted entirely to exposing students. And the general consensus from the website and Soo-ah was that Kai was nothing short of a monster.

“Apparently, he likes to befriend girls before breaking their hearts,” Soo-ah told you, her eyes burning with rage.

“But broken hearts are kind of a part of dating,” you observed quietly. It seemed wrong to hate some guy you never met, regardless of how many anonymous people swore they were moved to tears by his behavior.

“Didn’t you read any of that stuff I told you?” Soo-ah held her phone out to you once more. “He only likes for girls like us to stroke his ego, then he’ll drop up like we’re worthless.”

“But how do you know? We don’t even know who any of these people are—” You set her phone down on the end of your bed when she refused to accept it. “And they don’t include his last name or even a picture, so how would we even know if we saw him?”

“You would know Kai if you saw him,” she answered vaguely. Eyeing you suspiciously, she snatched her phone off of your blanket. “And why are you so determined to believe he’s such a good guy? Do you know him or something? Has he already gotten to you?”

A furious blush rose to your cheeks at her accusation, and you shied against the wall at your back. “No, I don’t know him, and I’m not determined to believe anything about anybody. Would you feel better if I was afraid of every boy in the school named Kai?”

“Honestly?” Soo-ah glared, “Yeah.” And when your stare clearly indicated that you were uncomfortable, she smiled and added, “You know— just so you’re safe.”

. . .

When you recapped the conversation to Sehun the next day over lunch, he stared at you blankly. “You mean to tell me that the girls have a whole website where they post what they really think about guys?”

Rolling your eyes, you ripped a used page out of your notebook and threw it at him. “Focus, Sehun.”

“I am focused.” Sehun hurled the paper at your face, but you ducked. “We’ll talk about your weird roommate after you tell me if my name is anywhere on that blog.”

“I don’t know, I didn’t look for you.” You picked the balled paper off of the ground as you answered. “Besides, to be on there, I think you have to be some kind of affront to women.”

“Oh,” Sehun nodded. “Well, I’m a total gentleman.” Satisfied with your mocking laugh, Sehun said, “Anyway, are you sure that your roommate doesn’t have some kind of grudge against this Kai dude— or whatever his name is?”

You shrugged, “I have no idea— I literally just met her a week ago when I moved in.”

Sehun shook his head at you. “Seriously, Y/N, that girl could be a psychopath for all you know. I told you to just move in with me and Chanyeol—”

“Excuse me, I only finally escaped you two when you went off to college.” You teased, biting your cheek to avoid laughing. “You know, I didn’t even want to transfer here, but the scholarship��”

Sehun kicked you under the table. “Cut it out, punk. Chanyeol’s heart would break if he heard you.” He scolded as if he weren’t pouting himself.

“Fine, fine. Anyway, I didn’t tell you everything so you could analyze Soo-ah or convince me to move in. Is any of that stuff about Kai true?”

As he shrugged, Sehun wrinkled his eyebrows. “How would I know? I don’t know anyone named Kai.” Then, more gently, he advised, “But Y/N, maybe don’t take a risk on someone with a bad reputation, ya know?”

Your tongue clicked in frustration. “No— I don’t know, actually. I mean, what if I listened to everyone in high who said you were a bully because of your resting bitch face—”

“Don’t play with me, Y/N, I know you had a crush on me and my mean eyebrows—”

Groaning, you complained, “Okay, first of all, literally nothing is sacred with Chanyeol.” Once Sehun finished laughing, you continued, “Second of all, that was back when I was a freshman and you actually seemed cool.”

“All these excuses.” Sehun smirked as he leaned across the table to ruffle your hair. Leaning back, he abandoned his jokes, and said, “Seriously, though, don’t be too naive. I know we think Soo-ah is a weirdo, but maybe she has some history with that guy, and she’s trying to protect you.”

Again, you refused to accept Sehun’s opinion that you should just be cautious. “But she didn’t even tell me who he is. And the blog calls him Kai— like some nickname.”

“Or a codename,” Sehun suggested. “Look, I’ve been to a lot of parties—”

“Is this really the time to brag about your social life?”

“ — Shut up! Anyway, I know almost everyone here, and nobody in my grade is named Kai. So maybe it’s just like a fake name everyone on the blog knows someone as?”

Your brow furrowed as you tried to rub the headache out of your temples. “But why warn me if nobody is going to tell me who to fear? The more I think about it, the more I think this is just some clever way for people to gossip.”

“Yeah? Well, welcome to college.” Realizing how troubled you were, Sehun recommended, “Don’t pry if you think it’s just girls being catty. What’s the point of going through the effort of finding out who the hell Kai is if they’re just venting?”

“Because it’s not fair for him to have a bad reputation if he didn’t do anything wrong.” You were about to begin your rant anew when your phone buzzed, signalling an incoming text. “Sorry, I gotta meet someone in the library. Group projects are so inconvenient.

“Yeah, don’t lie to me about meeting other guys, Y/N, it confuses me about the true nature of your feelings.” It would have been impossible to know that Sehun was joking if you lacked the years of experience in noting the slight upward twitch of his lips. “You’re coming to the party tonight, right?”

You nodded, “Yeah, sure. I have nothing else to do.”

“Obviously.” Sehun laughed when you shoved his shoulder. “Go ahead and invite your boyfriend so Chanyeol and I can run him off.”

. . .

Jongin was the only person who made a good impression that first month of classes— well, aside from his friend Taemin. As far as you could tell, the had to be the most popular guys on campus, judging by the whispers and stares that followed them everywhere. What were the odds, you wondered, that two seemingly perfect people would be inseparable best friends?

It was surprising to find him waiting for you alone in the library, since it was your first time seeing him without Taemin.

“Hey.” Jongin greeted you with a warm smile, just as he had on the first day of class.

While people obviously initially admired him for his stunning appearance, Jongin’s personality was more worthy of appreciation. And you knew it was silly to be yet another girl whose heart raced for him, but you couldn’t help it.

You returned his smile as you sat. “Hey.”

“So,” he raised the assigned novel, “what did you think of the book?”

“Actually, that was, like, my thousandth time reading Any Other Name,” you admitted bashfully. “It was my favorite book in high school.”

Jongin’s jaw dropped. “No way! It’s my favorite book too!” His excited volume attracted several hisses from nearby students and the assistant librarian. While his cheeks turned scarlet, he flipped his book open and displayed the colorful annotations. “It’s a little embarrassing, but I did most of this before the book was even assigned for that contemporary literature class.”

Hours slipped away as you and Jongin discussed your favorite parts of the novel. By the time you finished the project, and took a few selfies, and made plans to watch Any Other Name’s film adaptation, the sun had set. A quick glance at your phone confirmed that you were running late for the party.

Sehun had only been joking about you inviting Jongin, but at this point you were confident that he enjoyed hanging out with you, and you weren’t ready for your heart to calm. “You know, I’m about to go to a party at my best friends’ place. You may know them— Sehun and Chanyeol?”

“Yeah,” Jongin nodded. “I know them.” He laughed as he rubbed at the back of his neck and admitted, “And I know their parties are a little wild.”

You dismissed his concerns by explaining, “They’ve been my best friends since high school, that’s the only reason I’m going.” You blushed as you realized that he was likely politely rejecting you. “Ah— actually, it’s okay if you don’t wanna go—”

“Wait, you’re inviting me to go with you?”

Had it not been obvious? Jongin smiled when you nodded. “Okay, Y/N, I’ll go, and I’ll look out for you.” And he took your hand in his and allowed you to lead him out of the library.

. . .

The party was a chaotic blur. Evidently, Sehun decided to invite everyone he knew, resulting in little space to move and booming volumes. While the environment prevented a continuation of your earlier conversation, it didn’t discourage Jongin from remaining at your side throughout the evening, acting as your date and protector from the boisterous guests.

Sehun nudged you as he passed you near the blaring stereo and teased, “I can’t believe you actually brought him.”

And Sehun wasn’t the only person suspended in disbelief. You would have to be blind to miss the stares, which you attributed to envy considering Jongin’s popularity. Until the following morning, after Jongin escorted you to your dorm, when Soo-ah shoved her phone into your hand again, you didn’t consider that Jongin’s reputation could be more sinister.

“I told you to stay away from him.’ Soo-ah reminded— as if you could ever forget— while you examined the pictures displayed on her phone. They depicted you and Jongin dancing at the party.

“This doesn’t make any sense— his name isn’t even Kai.”

Yet the caption clearly read: ‘Kai picks his newest prey. Don’t be naive!’ and linked to Jongin’s account, where he had posted the pictures of you from the library. So it was as Sehun suggested; Kai was an alias for Jongin.

It wasn’t that you trusted Soo-ah or distrusted Jongin— so why was there a sudden sharp ache in your chest? Why was your stomach suddenly in knots? You didn’t know him well enough to suffer a broken heart, so your discomfort had to be caused by the embarrassment of having your pictures spread among anonymous strangers.

All you knew for certain was that nothing could come from confiding your feelings in your roommate, so you returned her phone and resolved to remain silent.

. . .

You spent the weekend trying to interpret your feelings alone without much success. When Chanyeol collapsed into the desk next to you and stole a concerned glance, you finally realized how deeply confused and upset you were by the entire ordeal.

“Hey Y/N, what’s the matter?” To comfort you, Chanyeol dug a cereal bar out of his bag and tossed it onto your desk. “Something happen with that guy you brought to the party?”

And you should have known better than to recount the situation to Chanyeol in that ten minutes before class; Taemin sat in the back corner of the classroom, and anything he heard would be repeated to Jongin. However, at Chanyeol’s compassionate provocation, you explained everything.

Like Sehun, Chanyeol fixated on what you considered a minor detail. “You mean you’ve managed to find the only guy in the world who’s obsessed with your favorite book?”

“That’s what you picked up on?”

“It’s just— it sounds like you really like him. And it sounds like he really likes you. And you have the same interests. And it’s dumb that you’re letting some stupid gossip blog ruin everything.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t like him anymore.” You glanced over your shoulder to make sure Taemin wasn’t listening; and when you were satisfied that he was listening to music, you continued, “I’m just not sure I’m okay with people taking my picture and talking about me just because I hang out with some guy.”

“Well, Y/N,” Chanyeol studied your expression as he leaned back in his chair, “If you really like him and you don’t believe what your creepy roommate says about him, maybe just avoid that website.”

Before you could respond, the professor began his lecture.

Maybe Chanyeol was right. You could easily forget about the blog, since you only knew about it and read it when Soo-ah was forcing you to read it. But could you really ignore the real world scrutiny? Even as you took notes, you lost count of how many girls turned around to stare.

If this was how they were acting after a weekend of ignoring all of Jongin’s texts, how could you believe everything would go back to normal if you swore off involvement with him? And, perhaps more importantly, why should you live to please a bunch of strangers?

As an act of defiance when that girl in front of you glared at you once more, you yanked your phone out of your book bag to ask Jongin to meet you to lunch, and you didn’t try to hide your smile when he immediately replied.

After class, Chanyeol rubbed your arm on the way out. “Everything will be okay. And if your roommate doesn’t back off, you can always stay with me and Sehun.”

You only nodded before heading to the campus cafeteria. A few steps later, a delicate voice called your name.

“Y/N?” It was Taemin, approaching you with a gentle grin. “Um, no matter what anyone says, Jongin really likes you. Don’t tell him I told you, but he’s had a crush on you since the first day of school, and he had a lot of fun with you the other day. So maybe don’t believe everything you read online.”

“You mean—” Your voice dropped below a whisper as you were almost too nervous to ask, “You mean you know what everyone says about him?”

Taemin nodded before confessing, “Yeah, we know what everyone says about us. They’ve been talking forever. But please don’t believe it.”

As relieved as you were to learn that your instincts were right, you were more consumed by sympathy for Jongin and Taemin. Despite the growing guilt of ignoring Jongin because of unfair rumors, you smiled softly at Taemin. “Don’t worry. I don’t believe it.”

Bearing that in mind, an apology tumbled out of your mouth the moment you found Jongin waiting for you at a table by the window. He already bought both of your meals and set your food at the space opposite him.

“For what?” He smiled at you, evidently determined to believe that you hadn’t deliberately avoided him all weekend.

You sat down and began, “I’m sorry I heard rumors about you— I didn’t even know they were about you—”

Jongin took your hand in his to interrupt your rant. “Y/N, don’t worry about it. I know all about that Kai stuff. Honestly, when you were actually nice to me and invited me to that party, I guessed you just hadn’t heard anything.” A frown yanked at his lips as he concluded, “I knew it was just a matter of time before you heard that I’m apparently some kind of jerk and decided to distance yourself.”

You appeared to have forgotten how to speak until Jongin released your hand and stood to dismiss himself. “I didn’t believe them—” You blurted as you grabbed his hand and tugged him back toward the table. “I didn’t believe the rumors before I knew they were about you. Before I even liked you.”

He stilled and sank back into his seat. “Really?” He narrowed his eyes at you curiously.

“Really,” you repeated. “It was just an instinct. But if you don’t mind me asking, why do they call you Kai? And why are people so determined to talk about you?”

“They’ve just always talked about me.” Jongin shrugged; it must be a part of life he accepted long ago, but that acceptance didn’t lessen his frown. “I don’t know why they call me a womanizer; I’ve never even dated a girl. I remember when Taemin had his first girlfriend, the other girls were so mean to her; I didn’t want anyone to go through that because of me. I really hoped things would change when I got to college, but— well, I’ve been here for a full four years, and people still whisper behind my back.”

Then, rather stupidly, you asked, “You still don’t date?” as if all you could think of was becoming Jongin’s first girlfriend.

Thankfully, he chuckled and you could release the anxious breath you were holding. “Nope. Until quite recently, I didn’t attract anyone I really liked. Actually— until this week, I didn’t attract anyone who actually liked me for more than my face.”

In a feeble attempt to distract from your deepening blush and an earnest effort to console Jongin, you said, “Well— for everyone who chose to believe rumors rather than get to know you, it’s their loss. Your kindness is way more impressive than your face, and you’re beautiful so that’s really saying something.”

Jongin caught his bottom lip with his teeth to keep from smiling, but the corners of his lips curved upward anyway. “Thank you. And to answer your other question, I went by Kai in high school. The girl who runs the blog, Soo-ah, ran it in high school too, and I guess she hasn’t stopped thinking of me as Kai even though I’ve been running from that name because of her.”

“Damn.” Your jaw clenched in anger as Jongin placed the final piece of the puzzle in your mind. “I hate when Sehun is right. My roommate is a psychopath.”

And, on a less infuriating but still annoying note, Sehun also accurately predicted that you would have to move in with him and Chanyeol— at least if you wanted to date Jongin without enduring daily rants from your deranged roommate.

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000609 · 6 years ago

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Xeno [ Part 1 ]

Pairing: Winwin x female!reader Genre: Sci-Fi, action, romance, angst; tech!winwin Words: 10k Warnings: Swearing, blood, violence, drinking, mentions of character deaths

Summary: It’s the year 2175 and you are on the road for vengeance. In your hopes of taking down one of the biggest corporations currently existing, it is inevitable for you to seek out some help. Even if that means adding Winwin, a narcissistic tech wonder to your team of three. However, you are soon to find out that your near impossible mission might be even harder to pull through than you had initially hoped. Especially when it is revealed everyone in your team is hiding secrets that might be vital to the success of your revenge. Winwin maybe hiding the biggest one of all.

[ A/N: My first series! It is all based on the concept of WayV’s Take Off. Enjoy. ]

At 11:30pm the room was still as silent as it had been for the past three weeks.

The high level of security that Mr. Choi had been promised for the room had by this time still fulfilled its great purpose to keep all intruders out without failing the man of the residence a single time. The room and current home of security cam. 24I8D9A was still as untouched as ever, exactly how Mr. Choi had strived for it to be.

However, the seconds were ticking dangerously close to 11:31, a chime of the hour that Mr. Choi would later carry with him to his own grave.

At 11:30 the room was still as silent as it had been for the past three weeks. At 11:31, that changed.

In the footage of security cam. 24I8D9A, it all started with a subtle movement in the upper right corner. The movement was quick and even though the camera had been sold to Mr. Choi with the guarantee that it was one of the best in the market, it still had a hard time catching the first action that had occurred in the room in three weeks.

If you were to play back the footage and slow it down, you’d see a gloved hand emerge from the air ventilation and drop something, barely bigger than one's pinkie, down on the floor. Now, if the security had been as good as it supposedly been promised to be, the movement detectors covering the room would have picked up both the thing falling to the ground and the hand that released it and thus resulting in Mr. Choi immediately finding out that he had an unwanted visitor.

However, as the black thing hit the ground, the only disturbance in the room was the slight flicker in 24I8D9A’s footage.

After what seemed like a long time, but according to the footage was only five seconds, the grill of the air ventilation was suddenly removed from its place up on the right corner of the ceiling, two hands clad in leather gloves holding it with a steady grip.

Slowly and steadily, more and more of the intruder currently residing in the air vent emerged. At first it was just the arms, still holding the grill with a strong grip as to not drop it straight down on the wooden floor and create a sound that would most likely lead to the attention of the residents in the house, something that for this dark clad creature was presumably most unwanted seeing as they were coming through the air ventilation rather than, let’s say the door. The arms were quickly followed by a head though the identity of the dark figure was still kept unknown for the camera by the dark mask covering the lower half of their face.

However, you didn’t need to see the face to understand that this person carried enough skill and determination to break in almost anywhere, this place no exception.

The dark figure continued crawling out of the air vent until only their shins were still hidden. By this point, the intruder was hanging upside down with only the help of the hollow of their knees still keeping them from falling face first on to the floor.

Slowly and surely, the person started to swing their body back and forth until they had picked up enough speed to reach the antique, red couch placed on the left of the air vent. With one last swing, the intruder suddenly dropped the grill on to the soft and, above all quiet surface before swinging back and in one swift and quick move, raised their hands to the opposite side of the air vent while releasing the calfs and with a tight grip on the vent swung back, this time with the hold of their hands. With one last smooth move, the person let go of the vent, landing with an easy jump on their feet, no security whatsoever going off.

The intruder wasted no time on celebrating the successful infiltration, instead, they started to make their way to the other side of the screen where a desk and a computer was placed. Someone, most likely Mr. Choi, had loved the idea of placing his collection of antique vases and statues around the room in places that called for disaster and broken porcelain. However, the intruder easily managed to navigate through the collection with only a quick glance on the brown vase that Mr. Choi loved but others usually found questionable, reaching the computer in no time.

From inside their dark jacket, the person pulled out what from the angle of 24I8D9A looked like a hard drive and a mobile device called Qu. The intruder started pressing on the keyboard of the computer, waking it to life. By the way the leather-clad fingers quickly moved over the keys, it was fair to say that they knew what they were doing here too.

The Qu laying on the desk suddenly pinged with an incoming call, making the eyes of the person leave the screen for a quick second to press answer. ”I made it to the office. All clear?”

Cam. 24I8D9A weren’t able to pick up on who it was calling, most likely due to the Qu being wired to an earpiece worn by the intruder. It is only the muffled voice of the dark figure now back pressing on the keyboard that can be heard. ”The airways are cleared. It’s a tight fit, you’ll probably have to take off your jacket.”

The call ended quickly after the few words and the intruder shifted all their focus back on going through the computer. This went on for fifty-six seconds, according to the footage, until something once again stirred in the upper left corner.

The dark figure by the computer barely paid it any attention, however, still focused on the task of the screen as another dark figure suddenly emerged from the air vent. This one was taller and broader and as they squeezed their way out of the air vent, it was clear that the person who arrived here first was the one who did all things that required smoothness in the moves.

The second intruder stumbled when he reached the ground, almost knocking one off the antiques over. However, to his luck, he narrowly missed it and quickly regained composure. The first intruder was still typing away as the second one started to make his way around the room, pulling on the leather jacket that the first intruder had advised him to take off.

The second intruder seemed to have some time over, taking time to slowly circle around the antiques and to scrutinize them closely. Some seemed to interest him more than others - including the brown vase - and he lifted a gloved hand to drag it across the glassed surface.

”Look, there’s a dick on this one.” The intruder was dragging a hand over a third vase when he suddenly spoke, his voice low.

The first intruder looked up from the computer, their eyes twisting into a frown when they saw what the other was doing and where his hand was placed. ”Don’t touch everything.” They said before looking down at the computer again.

The second one only shrugged as he lifted his hand from the vase and slowly started to walk over to where to first one was standing. He stopped right behind them, curiously looking down on the screen of the computer, something that seemed to bother the first one as they turned to glance over their shoulder. ”I told you I can’t work when you look.”

If the lower half of his face wasn’t hidden by a mask, you could guess that his mouth probably turned into a pout as he averted his eyes from the screen, slowly turning around to examine the painting hung behind the computer.

”Time check?” The first one asked as they continued vigorously typing.

When the second one didn’t answer, still staring at the painting, the first one curiously turned around to see what it was that had caught the attention of their companion. The painting was maybe what carried most value in the room, though in this case emotional value - something not appreciated by the first intruder as they rolled their eyes upon seeing the motive of the painting. ”Vases with dicks and painted portraits of himself together with his family, the man doesn’t know what to spend money on.” The person said as they turned back towards the computer.

The second one shrugged as he looked down at the watch around his wrist. ”His daughter is cute. Three minutes left.”

”Try asking her out after we kill her father,” the first intruder pressed one last key before snatching the hard drive and Qu to stuff them inside their jacket again, exchanging the devices for a pistol in black, sleek steel. ”Three minutes, let’s go.”

Something seemed to shift in the air around the intruders, their postures growing almost rigid as they started to make their way to the door both with raised guns in their hands. Even though the posture and demeanor had changed, none of the confidence had been lost and the strides towards the door were presumptuous and smooth. But in the air around them it was almost like it had dawned that as soon as they left that door, they were going to take a life. From cam. 24I8D9A it was hard to tell whether or not they seemed to enjoy that feeling.

Though with three minutes being left of whatever time restrains the two had, there was obviously no time to reminisce in feelings. Instead, they kicked open the door, disappearing from the footage of the security camera at the last seconds of 11:38pm.

What followed were only muffled sounds coming from the footage, the sound of shouting and a hand clad in leather repeatedly hitting skin and bone. The last thing that could be heard before an eerie silence fell in the residence of Mr. Choi, was the sound of one last cry before a pulled trigger.

But the interesting content of the footage doesn’t end just yet.

At 11:41, three minutes after the two intruders had left the room, the alarm system Mr. Choi so wholeheartedly had relaid upon started blaring. Though it was all to no use.

The intruders had already left the building, leaving the owner of security cam. 24I8D9A dead.

The blood was still wet on your knuckles when you felt the first breeze of fresh air graze the parts of your face that wasn’t covered by the dark mask. It was nearing midnight and even though the alley was well secluded from the life of the city, you could still feel the excitement and eagerness for what the night would offer pulsate through the air.

You couldn’t deny that the excitement in the air had an effect on you too, your steps being light while walking further into the alley. The boy behind you must have been excited too because he was whistling a happy tune as he followed your steps.

Though business was still far from finished, you let yourself relax for a short moment to deeply breathe in the air of the city. You had never experienced a life outside off the busy streets of this town, but like most people in this city, there was no need too. It often felt like the entire world lingered in the crooks and corners of this place. But there was no time to feel sentimental really, so instead, you filled your lungs with one last deep breath of the night air before you reached into your jacket for your Qu. The screen of the device was old and no longer lit up when it met your face, something most well-working Qu’s did. So instead you had to violently shake yours until the screen woke up.

With a quick flick of your thumb the documents that you had managed to obtain lined up on the screen. The pulse of the city slowly disappeared as you shifted your focus to your findings. Back to business. You pulled down the mask covering your mouth as you cleared your throat. ”Did you remove all traces?” The boy behind you stopped whistling to snort at your question.

”I’m not an amateur.” He said as he walked past you to the vehicle parked in the shadows a few meters away, his steps still light and confident.

You had to stop for a moment to scroll through the last document, confirming that all the information you needed was there and that all files were intact. The job had been all done.

You stuffed the Qu back in your pocket as you walked over to Lucas. There was really no way to describe him other than your co-worker, though that sounded awfully mundane compared to the work you two did together. He was just like you dressed in all black leather, a mask similar to your own hanging around his neck and his short hair tousled from the hood he had worn throughout the mission. You watched as he pulled out a helmet from the sleek, black motorcycle still partly hidden in the shadows. ”I’m just making sure. I heard you used to work with 12W.”

Through the darkness, you could see Lucas tense at the mention of the name. ”Jungwoo knew what he was doing.”

This time it was your turn to snort. ”Yeah, and that’s why he’s currently stuck in the outer ring. He got caught because of a fingerprint Lucas.”

”Whatever,” He said and handed the helmet to you. ”Is the work done?”

You patted your Qu laying in your jacket. ”I have everything. They’ll most likely get a notice in a few minutes and if they decide to look for us, they’re gonna assume we escaped by foot,” You pulled the helmet over your head before you pulled up the visor to meet Lucas’s eyes. ”I say we take the main streets.”

Lucas only nodded as he in one, smooth move got on the motorcycle and kicked up the side stand as you - not as gracefully as Lucas - got on behind him while pulling down the visor again. You patted his back as an indication that you were ready and with a roar, the motorcycle underneath you was woken up to life.

Before you even had time to blink, the strong motors of the vehicle sent you flying out from the darkness of the alley and onto the main street bustling with life. The pinks and blues of the big led screens decorating the tall buildings lining the road reflected on your visor and as Lucas easily navigated through cars and people, you let the commercials and the strong winds calm you down.

Even though you had dealt with similar missions before - eight to be exact - the adrenaline still left you tired. Your joints were aching after maneuvering the tight air ventilation and your ears were still ringing after the pulled trigger. However, the pain was still an equally as big reminder as the documents in your Qu that you were moving forward with your plan, and that certainly left you satisfied.

As Lucas made a sharp left turn, forcing a taxi to step on its breaks, the bustling of the main street thinned out as you turned into a smaller road. The apartments on this street were older than the ones out on the road that you just came from, the bottom of the apartments occupied by bars and restaurants. Even though the aroma of liquor and food lured many people onto this street, the colors of the led screens still hanging above the restaurants made the place appear hollow. The shadows cast on the street made it easy to hide and so with the darkness and the smell of food, it was really no question that this part of town was your favorite.

Lucas made another turn into a small alley between two restaurants. The kitchen door to an Udon place was propped open by a crate and you could smell the food even through your helmet as the motorcycle slowed down until it eventually came to a complete halt. As Lucas turned off the growling engine, the chatter coming from the restaurant and the busy street behind you filled the air.

With tired limbs, you climbed off from the motorcycle as you took off the helmet on your head. ”You coming in?” You asked and dragged a hand through your hair before handing the helmet back to Lucas.

”Nah, I got some stuff to do.” He said without meeting your eyes and pulled the helmet over his own head.

You only shrugged as you walked backward, away from the vehicle to give him space to turn around and leave. ”I’ll send you the payment tonight.”

Lucas only sent you a small salute before he turned on the loud motor again and in the blink of an eye disappeared down the alley and into the lively night, only leaving a cloud of dust where you were standing.

You sighed as you walked towards the fire escape by the propped up kitchen door. The smell of onion coming from the restaurant was strong as you stopped right beneath the rusty ladder and looked up at it. You slightly bent your knees before gathering all energy that you had left to jump up and grab hold of the cold, hard metal before heaving one foot followed by the other onto the first step of the ladder.

You quickly patted your jacket to make sure your devices were still there. The documents - or the Xeno WeXz files as you more formally liked to call them - in there were worth millions, though that wasn’t really the reason you were trying to obtain every trace of the files currently in your Qu. No, greed wasn’t what was making you destroy all traces of the files, even if that meant putting a bullet through someone's head. To you, the content and information in the Xeno WeXz files were all personal and there was no way middle-aged and money hungry men were going to get a hand on them and later show them to the entire world. Not when you knew the destruction it would cause if they did.

As you got on the first level of the fire escape, you shook out the stiffness in your arms after the long day as you continued walking up the stairs to the top floor of the apartment. When you reached the very last window, you squeezed in your fingers under the frame and with a stubborn grunt pulled it up, allowing you to climb in through the window.

The blood on your knuckles was dry by the time you placed both feet on the wooden floor of what you called home. It wasn’t exactly a place you had spent enough time in to make any real personal attachment to it, but you couldn’t deny the slight comfort it brought to at least have a place you could change shirts in. The apartment was dark except for the light of the led screens outside, shining in through the line of windows facing the street with the restaurants and bars, casting an eerie glow on the sparse furniture in the room.

Someone suddenly cleared their throat and as you looked towards the small, wooden dining table placed in the middle of the room, you weren’t exactly surprised to see Ten sitting on a chair with his feet up on the table. ”And here she is, making her way through the window instead of the front door.”

”Ah, my weasel made it.” You said as you walked towards the table while taking off your bloodstained leather gloves. The feeling of air against the skin of your hands was freeing and you moved your fingers to stretch them out after having them being stuck in the leather most of the day.

”You know, every time you call me that I always get a little more disappointed to see you still alive.” Ten cocked his head to the side as he watched you attentively.

You stopped in front of him and reached out to flick his leather boots still propped up on your dining table. Ten got the memo and slowly moved his legs away from the wooden surface and down on the floor. ”So nice to see you too, Ten.”

Ten only shook his head as you threw down the gloves on the table in front of him and made your way to the small kitchen in one of the corners of the apartment. A weasel was exactly what he was and you both knew it, his title already proven from the very first moment you met him.

At your first encounter, Ten had been located at the exact same spot he was at this very moment - at your dining table with his feet propped up on it, except that first time he had been a total stranger inside your own home. He had known everything about you, things you hadn’t told anyone, your backstory, your routines and most importantly, your hunger for vengeance. Ten knew you needed help and he was interested enough in you to give it to you for free.

At first, you had doubted him, naturally, but you were quick to find out that Ten knew everything about everyone and that no-one knew anything about him. When a person with knowledge and coverage like that offers his help, you can’t exactly say no.

He had helped you with everything on your road to vengeance. How to go get hold of the right weapons, how and when to approach your victims and how you would get away from there unnoticed. He was even the one who had hooked you up with Lucas.

You didn’t carry much appreciation towards people, but the small ounce you did carry were all towards the man currently sitting at your dining table.

”I’m guessing this is the blood of Mr. Choi.” Ten said and picked up one of your gloves as you grabbed the only cup in your kitchen cabinet to fill it with water.

”No, one of his guards,” You walked over to the table and placed down the water in front of Ten before you sat down on the chair across from him, lifting your feet so that they rested on top the table. ”The only place you’ll find Mr. Choi’s blood is on the security cameras that watched me put a bullet through his head.”

”Cruel,” he said with a smile. ”I see that Lucas didn’t make it.”

”No, he rushed off. Said he had somewhere to be.”

Ten took a sip from the cup in front of him. ”Probably off to do some more dirty work to scrape up the money he needs to bail out his lover boy from the outer ring.”

You had never heard anything about a lover boy. To be fair, you and Lucas had early on in your alliance decided that neither of you would share anything personal from your lives. Strictly business, that way it wouldn’t hurt if the other one got killed during a mission. Though you couldn’t deny the fact that Ten’s words got you curious. ”Who?” You asked.

Ten furrowed his brows in confusion as if he thought you already knew. ”12W.”

”Oh.” So you had heard of him.

”You’re the one who pays him the best though if that feeds your ego in any way.”

”Ah, now I’ll sleep real’ well tonight.” You snickered as you pulled out the Qu from inside of your jacket, reminded that you should send the payment over to Lucas. Especially if he needed it.

”Did you get all the right documents?”

You only nodded, focused on the device in your hand and that the right amount of money got sent over to Lucas.

”Can I see them?”

Ten was staring at you when you looked up at him with a frown. He already knew the answer to that question. ”Absolutely not.”

”Come on,” he said and leaned forward towards you. ”You must understand that I’m curious about what this is all really about.”

You sighed, tired of the same discussion you always had. ”You know I’m not giving you any more details, those are strictly between me and WeXz. This relationship-” you said gesturing between you and Ten. ”Is solely work-based and therefore is only supposed to be about you telling me where I can find them, not me telling you why I want to find them.”

Ten raised his hands into the air and sighed in defeat as he leaned back in his chair again. He looked out through the windows as he changed the subject. ”One left before the final boss-”

”That’s one way to call him.”

”This one is going to be easy,” Ten said, pulling up his own, more modern, Qu from his pocket. It lit up in his face and he pressed on it a couple of times before he turned it towards you. The document pulled up on the device showed a picture of a middle-aged man in the middle of getting out of a car. His round face and receding hairline were clear even though the photo seemed to be taken from a roof. Now you knew exactly what the face of your next victim looked like. Ten continued. ”His name is Bai Zhong. Ninth sponsor of the Xeno WeXz files.”

”Why are you saying this one is the easiest? Shouldn’t he be expecting me?” You scrolled to the next document where all the information of Bai Zhong was neatly lined up. From where he was born to where he was supposed to die.

”This man is dumber than a sack of hammers. Apparently, the WeXz headquarters transmitted warnings to him three weeks ago that he should be on the lookout, but unlike Mr. Choi, he just laughed them off. He probably thinks that awful hairline of his will save him,” Ten said as you pushed the Qu towards him, having finished scrolling through the documents. ”We’ll see if he laughs when he realizes that it will only give you a bigger target to put a bullet through.”

”I shall tell you if he laughs,” You said and closed your eyes as you leaned back in the chair and rested your hands behind your head. ”send over the documents before you leave.”

”Actually, this fine man isn’t the primary reason why I came to talk to you. We need to talk about the brain jacker.”

”So that is what we call him now. Brain jacker,” You opened your eyes to squint at Ten. ”I liked final boss better. It makes me feel like more of a hero. Besides, I need to clear this man first.” You lowered your hand and motioned to the Qu in Ten’s hand.

”Yes, of course. But the brain jacker’s sponsors are dropping like flies. He isn’t as clueless as Bai Zhong, he’s a smart man who’s guard is going to be all the way up, if it isn’t already. Judging by the warnings coming from HQ I would say he’s right at this moment tightening all security around the rest of the Xeno files and himself.”

You sighed as you sat up straight in the chair again, your boots meeting the floor with a heavy clonk. What Ten was saying wasn’t exactly news to you. You already knew that the brain jacker would be tightening all the security, something he had probably started to do the moment he learned about your existence. ”Ten, you’re not here to tell me the obvious. How do you suggest I get to him?”

”You need to extend your team.”

You raised your eyebrows. The thought of adding another one to your team of two had never crossed your mind. You and Lucas worked great together. Got shit done. Not a single major inconvenience had occurred during your last eight missions together. But Ten was right, the brain jacker or final boss or whatever he should be called did require a bigger team. ”I feel like you already have someone in mind.”

Ten smiled at you as he leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table. ”I do. Real name is Dong Sicheng, goes by Winwin.”

”That’s a nickname that cuts to the point. What’s his deal?”

”He’s what you would call a tech wonder, knows how to get through everything without anyone finding out that he was there. He has robbed countless companies from valuable information without any of them noticing that he was even in their system until one week after. The brain jacker’s security system won’t be a problem for him.”

”He must be scared about the fact that you know about him.” You said as you pondered Ten’s words.

Ten shrugged. ”Doesn’t even know I exist.”

”Of course.” Ten was a weasel after all. You sighed as you tried to think through what the right decision would be.

You knew enough about coding to get through sloppily constructed firewalls made by engineers under time pressure. But the brain jacker didn’t do things poorly, especially not when it came to security around his pride and joy, you knew that better than anyone. Your knowledge wouldn’t be enough to clear this mission, not even the devices you’d bought in an underground tech house, that infiltrated the security in a room and shut it off for ten minutes would help you. It had worked at Mr. Choi’s place but it would not work at the brain jacker’s. And besides, if you requited Winwin, that would mean you and Lucas could focus on taking down his human guards.

You looked over at Ten who was smiling knowingly, like he already knew your decision. ”I’ll send over the details of where you can find him.”

”Anything more I should know about him?” After all, you were going to saunter up to a boy who didn’t think anyone knew he existed. Precautions would be helpfull.

Ten squinted as if he was trying to remember the information he had gathered about Winwin. ”From what I understand he’s a complete narcissist.”

You gaped at him. ”Do you think a narcissist will be a good addition to my team right at the final boss?”

Ten rolled his eyes as he got on his feet while stuffing down the Qu in his pocket. ”Winwin’s the only who can get through the system. Consider it a… fun practice to put trust in someone.”

You only sighed as Ten walked past you towards the window. ”Did you come in through the window?” You asked, making sure that he hadn’t broken your one rule of entering this place.

”Yes and I’ll leave through it too.”

”Good,” you said as you looked through the windows at the commercial for the latest Qu playing on the led screens. ”Bye Ten.”

He didn’t answer, instead the last sound you heard from him was when he pulled down the window after getting out, leaving the apartment in complete silence. You sighed, trying to take in the conversation with Ten.

It made sense, everything about what he had said. Your whole life would depend on the day you finally took down the final boss. Nothing for you even existed besides that man, therefore it was no question that it would completely destroy you if anything went wrong. As soon as you put that bullet through his head, the destruction he had caused and was still causing would be justified.

You took out your Qu and shook it a few times to get it to light up before you opened the documents. The Xeno WeXz files.

The carefully structured blueprints and documents piled with information filled the screen and you couldn’t help the shiver you always felt when you looked at them. You were staring at WeXz plans to create a prison in human form.

WeXz was a company that had been formed right at the start of the technology evolutionism society. When the world had reached that point where it realized that everything could be carried on automation and machinery, rather than the more living creatures. In the technology evolutionism society, it was no longer about the human, more of what device would make your living as unproblematic and easy as possible. That was when WeXz had spread its wings and completely revolutionized.

Over the years as more money had gotten in the hands of the corporation, WeXz had transformed from a household name that created devices for everyone to use, to more of a research enterprise that always tried to be one step ahead of what new technology could be created to revolutionize.

During that extensive change, a man called Biming had stepped into the doors of WeXz with a crazy yet millions-worth idea. Biming had discovered how to create androids. Androids with an insane AI system that would make them almost identical to a human. They dreamt, they thought, they reacted.

When Biming propositioned his idea and creation, money signs had immediately gone off in the eyes of WeXz and in the matter of just one month, Biming had his own research team that together started a classified development of the android who had by then been given the name Xeno.

Things went well for Biming and whether you’d like to admit it or not, he was certainly a brilliant man. He was making incredible progress with his idea and in a matter of just two years, Biming had created his first working Xeno. But he hadn’t thought about it all the way, maybe to ecstatic over the idea of seeing his first true creation in front of his two eyes. Even though Biming still had control over his new creature when it still laid on the workbench in front of him, the moment he pressed the power button, that changed.

You didn’t know what Biming had expected. If he honestly thought he would be able to control an AI system so powerful it gave the illusion of there being a humanly beating heart inside its chest instead of metal and wires. Even though he liked to believe it, Biming wasn’t God. He had been wrong. Instead of creating a revolutionary idea that would have really defined the core idea of what the technology evolutionism society was all about, Biming had created a monster. A monster who couldn’t feel any pain.

Biming first realized this himself when he brought in the first human test subject to work together with the Xeno. Instead of a cordial and working relationship developing between a human and machine that day, Biming had cluelessly set up a blood bath.

That day human blood was spilled on the floor of the lab. It had all happened so quickly, but the after effect would be carved into the walls of the WeXz research department for a long time. After all, one real human life had fallen into the hands of Biming and the Xeno.

It took some spilled blood for the developers to understand that the Xeno couldn’t be controlled. After the failed test with the human subject, the Xeno escaped out from the quarantine it had been locked into, killing every single researcher in Biming’s team on its way out.

190 lives were lost that day.

And you were one of the ones who mourned the people whos’ blood was spilled that day.

When you - one year later - found out that Biming was still alive and still convinced that his idea about the Xeno would be revolutionary and that he was still ready to do anything in his power to get it to work, having redesigned the model and was currently looking for sponsors to support his crazy idea, you swore you were going to avenge the man.

The Xeno was dangerous and you were going to do everything in your power to stop his idea from ever leaving the WeXz headquarters and allowing the rest of society to find out about its existence.

You were doing good so far, having killed eight of the ninth sponsors and taken control of all the files Biming, or brain jacker or simply asshole had sent out. Now, there were two left. Bai Zhong and the brain behind it all himself.

Biming worked with a big corporation that had all the resources to protect his precious Xeno and himself from your vengeance. He knew you were after him and the only way you could get a hold of him was whether you liked it or not, to recruit the narcissist to your team.

As if Ten had heard you think about it, your Qu suddenly pinged with a new message from him.

When you followed the address Ten had sent you, you didn’t expect to end up in front of a bar.

The prejudice you carried had made you think that maybe you would find Winwin’s secret layer in one of the abandoned warehouses outside of town or in one of the dark apartments near the outer ring. Your prejudice did not think, however, that you’d be looking for Winwin in a small bar called Chrome Eon located in the middle of the city, packed with people who were drinking and dancing the night away.

The neon lights and cigarette smoke surrounding the bar made you wrinkle your nose for a moment, but if this was the place Winwin usually hung out, you weren’t one to judge. Instead, you crossed the street and walked towards the bar. The place was crammed with people and the heat and music hit you before you even crossed the threshold.

As you pushed by the first pair of people with drinks high in the air, you quickly realized that you stuck out like a sour thumb. Still dressed in the leather attire from the mission earlier that same night, you didn’t really blend in with the others who wore skin-tight dresses and shirts made out of silk.

You could only hope that there wasn’t any blood left on your clothes or face as you pushed your way further into the bar, the bass pulsating through your body more and more the deeper you got.

Ten hadn’t provided you with a picture of how Winwin looked, so you were left hopelessly scanning the place and the faces surrounding you in case you saw something that looked suspicious or downright screamed tech wonder. However, Winwin wasn’t a guy that liked to stand out you guessed, so your chances of finding him felt small.

You tried to push your way to the bar lined against one of the walls, ignoring the weird looks cast your way as you looked for someone you could at least ask if they’ve seen some professional tech guy roaming around.

You were just about to call down to the bartender when you noticed someone sitting alone at a table pushed into one of the corners of the bar, staring right at you. The stare of the only occupant at the table was different from the others in the bar, this one looked at you knowingly. When you turned to stare back, you realized that you recognized the man at the table.

You vaguely remembered his name being Kun. He was the one you always visited at the black market, the one who sold you the black, small devices you often used during missions that did the impossible, they turned off all security system for ten minutes, something that had come in hand countless of times during your missions. Kun knew his way around technology development, so maybe he knew about Winwin too.

You held his gaze as you walked towards him, slightly raising your eyebrows as you got close. ”I didn’t know you existed outside of the black market.”

Kun shrugged. ”Could say the same about you,” he leaned back as you stopped in front of the table. ”Though this place is almost the same as the market.”

You didn’t understand what he meant seeing as you had never been here before, didn’t even know it existed. You leaned forward and placed your hands on top of the table. ”You hang out here often?”

Kun shrugged again as he reached for the drink in front of him and raised it to his lips. ”I come and go.”

”Then you might know where I can find Winwin.” You said just as Kun was about to take a sip, making him choke on the liquid.

He placed down the drink violently on the table as he coughed. ”Excuse me?” He said through his gasps.

You just stared at him as he coughed a couple of more times before regaining his composure, clearing his throat. ”You heard me.”

Kun met your eyes and for a moment it was silent. It was obvious that he knew who you were talking about, the question was only if he would tell you. Kun looked down at his drink again as if he was contemplating either whether or not to he should tell you or if he should risk it and take another sip, hopefully without choking this time. He looked up at you again as he reached for the glass. ”He’s not in tonight.” And that was the last thing he said before he downed the last of the liquid in the glass, pushed out the chair from the table and stood up to leave.

You didn’t turn to look at him as he walked past you and disappeared into the crowd of people. Even though you hadn’t found Winwin, at least you knew that he was here somewhere and you couldn’t help the smile forming on your lips. ”Alright.” You mumbled before you turned around to push through the people and leave the same way you came.

Chrome Eon looked different during the day.

From your position in the shadows of an alley right across the bar, it looked less… intimidating. The daylight made it appear mundane, not like the towns most notorious tech engineer would be somewhere around it.

But that was also the problem, see, you had no idea where you could find Winwin at this place. There was barely a human seen within the 50-meter radius of the place, except for you and a girl clad in the bartender uniform who only went out to receive a delivery of bottles you guessed was alcohol. You had seen her leave through a side door after that, disappearing before you could even think to ask her.

Frustration was staring to fill your body. You couldn’t find Winwin during the night and you couldn’t find him during the day. Kun was your only lead so far, but he had not been at the black market when you went to look earlier and neither had you seen any trace of him here. Where the hell would you find this guy?

Your Qu suddenly buzzed inside your pocket and you reached for it, without moving your eyes from the building across from you.

You sighed as you read Ten’s message. He was right, your patience was next to zero, but you just didn’t know what to do. Going any nearer the bar during midday could lead to some much-unwanted attention, something you really didn’t need a couple of days before you took down WeXz biggest current possible resource. The biggest chance you had off finding Winwin while not adverting attention to yourself was probably to return to Chrome Eon during its open hours in the night.

You turned around to walk further into the alley, away from the bar, when you suddenly heard the faint sound of propelling wings. The sound was coming from above you but when you looked up, one of your hands shielding your eyes from the harsh daylight, you couldn’t see anything.

You slowly started to walk backward further into the alley as you strained your eyes on the sky, your other hand slowly reaching for the gun hidden under your black jacket. And then you saw it. It was only a quick sight at first. If it wasn’t for your guard being up and on the lookout, you probably would have missed the black metal and wings of the small drone circling the edge of one of the buildings next to you.

Drones were common in the city, often used for delivery and transportation, so in most common cases there would be no reason for you to be suspicious. However, this one was different. First of all, you had never seen this model before. Drones were often heavily commercialized throughout the led screens in the city so it wasn’t hard to remember what drones you could find on the market. This one though, you had never seen. As you caught a glimpse of it again, you noticed that this one was more sleek and quiet, probably equipped with a motor that wasn’t supposed to be heard by the human ears and therefore worked as a great espionage tool.

And that was all the confirmation you needed. Ten had been right about Chrome Eon after all, almost as if his recent message had lured out the subject.

You had found Winwin, and he had clearly found you too.

You couldn’t help the wicked smile forming on your lips as you lifted your jacket and grabbed the Glock underneath it. Slowly and surely you lifted it to the sky, the air around you growing still as you listened after the propelling of wings and waited for the drone to circle back into your sight again.

And then you saw it once again. Without hesitation you pulled the trigger, your smile widening at the sound of the bullet meeting metal. The drone flew to the ground, crashing into pieces a few meters away from you with a sound echoing in the alley that made it clear that the drone had seen its last day.

You lifted your hand and blew the metal pieces laying scattered on the ground a kiss, before you turned around and walked away from there, the smile still wide and wicked on your lips.

That night, as you walked into Chrome Eon once again, you tried to enjoy yourself a bit more.

The bass wrapped around you the minute you stepped a foot into the bar and you threw your head back with a smile as it filled your body. There were people all around you, pressing into you from all sides as they danced to the music with glasses of alcohol lifted high into the air.

You slowly made your way further into the bar as you swayed to the music. It had been a long time since you had actually gone out like this. Not that you were going out just for pleasure, this was still somewhat a mission, but you still allowed yourself to relish the excitement circling in the air.

This time people didn’t stare as much, and if they did it was for an entirely different reason. The dress sitting tight on your body matched the sensuous atmosphere of the people in Chrome Eon together with the red color of your lips turned up into a pleased grin.

You didn’t look around for Winwin, there was no need to, instead you headed straight to the bar and sat down on one of the free stools lining it. Then you waited.

Winwin knew that you were here, something you were sure of after you shot down that drown. You had found him, now it was his move to find you.

You looked around at the people crammed into every corner of the bar as the music grew louder and louder. There was no-one you recognized here, Kun nowhere to be found and neither did you see anyone that matched what you imagined Winwin would look like. However, when you suddenly saw a girl in one of the corners staring right at you, you grew slightly wary.

She was looking at you intensively, like she already knew who you were. You did not recognize here at all though and you frowned as she kept staring. Just as you were about to walk over to her, the Qu in your hand buzzed, distracting you from the stare of the girl.

As you looked down at the device you couldn’t help the smile spreading on your lips. You had received what was supposed to look like a normal message from an unknown number, but the cryptic line indicating the messenger along with the flickering that broke out on your device as you clicked on the message made it very clear that someone had hacked into your device and put it there. It was a great method to leave a message without being able to track the person behind it, however, you didn’t have to track anything to know that it was Winwin. He was needless to say quite predictable. You opened the message as your screen slightly flickered, it was too old to handle cryptically delivered messages like this one.

You stared down at the screen as you waited for Winwin to answer. He must have been pondering what the right answer was because he was taking forever. You guessed that he was a scared bastard, really meticulous in his moves as to make sure he wouldn’t blow it. It was too late though, you thought, you already knew who he was. You sighed as you typed in another message.

The flickering suddenly stopped and you guessed he must have left your phone. It took every willpower in your body as to not scream out in frustration as you slammed down the Qu on the bar in front of you. You had lost him. Again.

So what do you do now? Do you try going to the black market again to see if Kun has returned from his hideout or do you beg Ten to find more information about Winwin, preferably an actual picture of his face? You were in the middle of pondering all this when you suddenly felt a tap on your shoulder. At first, you remembered the girl that had been staring at you and thought that it must be her, but when you quickly turned around on the stool you came face to face with Kun.

He was wearing a deep frown as he looked at your Qu lying on the bar behind you before he looked over at you, his eyes skimming the dress and your red lips before he met your eyes, his frown turning into a scowl. He sure seemed to be in a friendly mood.

”Come with me.” He said and nodded his head to the side.

Now it was your turn to frown. ”I’m sorry, what?”

”You wanted to talk face to face. Come.” He sighed impatiently. Wait, was he Winwin? It would’ve made sense with the well-made devices he always sold in the black market and how he had avoided your question about Winwin the day before. But still, something told you that this was the wrong guy.

You turned around to grab your phone and slowly slid off the stool. As Kun started to push through the crowds of people, you discreetly moved a hand over the skirt of your dress to make sure the Glock was still hidden underneath it before you followed him.

The two of you suddenly approached a door hidden by the wall of toilets, the text Personnel only scribbled across it. Kun didn’t even hesitate as he pushed it open, revealing a long, dark corridor with crates filled with bottles pushed along the walls. As the door fell shut behind you - the sound of music and chatter immediately growing distant - you wondered where he was taking you. If he took you back here to kill you, you figured you stood a better chance against him. Sure, he was tall and broad, but by the way he was leading you down the corridor, you could tell by his stiff stance that he didn’t have training beyond firing a gun with a fifty-percent chance of it hitting the target. So if that was the case, he was leading himself to his own death.

As the two of you were about to reach the end of the corridor, Kun suddenly stopped, almost making you bump into his back. He cast a glance over his shoulder as if to make sure you were still following him, before he reached beside him to a door that had suddenly appeared by your left. The door was made out of hard metal and judging by the code lock and the very unambiguous sign saying Keep Out, it was clear that this was a door not just anyone came and went through.

Kun stepped in front of you as to block the code lock and you heard him quickly press in a long line of numbers before something clicked inside the door which allowed him to swiftly open it. You glanced over his shoulder through the door and saw a long set of stairs leading downwards. At the bottom of the stairs, you noted yet another door identical to the one you were currently standing in front of.

You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh at the palpable safety measures hidden at the back of this bar. Whoever you were about to see was clearly not someone a lot of people had the acquaintance of meeting. You had no idea how Ten had even gotten hold of this guy.

Kun started walking down the stairs, his heavy feet echoing in the stairwell as you followed him once again. As the two of you reached the bottom you noted that this door did not have a code lock, instead, Kun raised his hand and knocked rapidly. Almost before Kun had even managed to finish knocking, the door suddenly swung open.

The darkness of the staircase was suddenly filled with glows of purple, yellow and green, mixed together with the sound of a soft and low hum, like the fan of an old computer. You had a hard time grasping what had suddenly appeared in front of you, and you hadn’t even set a foot inside the room yet. Wherever Kun had led you, it was like a sudden goldmine.

Kun cast yet another glance over his shoulder as he walked into the room, leaving you still standing in the stairwell trying to take in all the colors that had suddenly wrapped around you. You barely registered Kun looking over at someone and nodding in your direction as he said, ”She’s here.”

Carefully, you moved your hand over the Glock again as you took a couple of careful steps into the room. You didn’t want to appear like you were caught off guard by the hidden room, but you couldn’t help but to look all around you and take it all in as you left the stairs behind.

The room was rather big, however, the number of wires and spare parts lying scattered on the floor and on desks placed around the room, made it appear small. Against one wall, the one facing the door was what looked like storage servers filling the room with eerie colors. The servers were pilled upon each other and they were so tall and wide that it almost filled the entire wall.

By another wall, you saw wooden shelves towering high, filled to the brink with what looked like books made with paper, something you hadn’t seen in forever. It left you momentarily speechless and you had to really hold yourself back as to not go over there and look at them.

It took a lot of power to even turn your head away from the shelves, but when you finally managed to do it, you almost grew equally surprised once again. On the other side was a huge workshop desk piled with metal parts and tools, almost no free space left on the desk. However, it wasn’t the desk that left you surprised, it was the man behind it.

He was looking at you with a scowl, his dark gaze moving up and down every inch of your body. The leather jacket across his shoulders hung loose and the long earring dangling from one of his ears caught the light off the storage servers, almost making him appear ghostly. His dark, curly hair laid tousled across his forehead as he raised his head, his eyes not leaving you as his scowl deepened.

There was no question about who this man in front of you was. Your hand moved over the Glock once again.

Hello, Winwin.

[ TO BE CONTINUED ]

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mskathywriteswords · 5 years ago

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Cupcakes at Midnight - Chapter 6

A/N: As warned, angst, hurt, comfort ahead.

True to her promise, the next day, Ava leaves for work without disturbing me. I wake up surprised, since it often feels like every little noise can startle me awake at night -- she must be very stealthy. It’s just me and Cat. Always Cat.

I’m not sure when I’ll hear from Ava next, so I set about doing my usual weekend stuff and try to put things to the side. I mean, it’s possible she only wants a weekend thing, so who knows where this will all end up.

Picking up my phone, I text Ivy.

Movies?

She practically texts me back immediately. Are you psychic? I was itching for something to do outside of this house.

I laugh.

Must be such torture living in Matt’s McMansion bachelor pad. See you in 20?

I toss my laundry in the dryer and jump in the car to meet Ivy. It doesn’t really matter to either of us what’s playing at the theater; we’ll get popcorn, a gut bomb of sugary goodness to share, and a giant soda and be happy watching almost anything. After, there’s a bar upstairs that I’m sure we’ll make good use of.

We go through our usual routine of me getting the tickets and Ivy getting the snacks and drinks. For two blissful hours, I get to escape from everything on the planet. It’s exactly what I need, and I immerse myself in it entirely, not letting any of the real world bullshit in.

“Drinks?” I ask as the lights come back up in the theater.

Ivy checks her phone and makes a face. “I might have to go. You okay?”

I nod. “Yeah, totally.”

I’m not quite sure what’s gotten under my skin, but I know that I’ll be fine. Something just feels … restless. Unsettled. It’s itching at my belly, but I can’t place it.

“See you tomorrow,” she says, hugging me tight.

“Tell Matt I said hello, and he still owes me that whiskey.”

As much of a sporty man’s man bro as Matt can be, he’s still one of my favorite people. When he and Ivy met, there was a weird dance of jealousy from both sides, but we found our friendship rhythm and things have been great since.

Once I’m home, I text my therapist to book my next appointment; it’s been too long. Cat and I curl up on the couch for some quality Netflix time.

What day is it?

I consider for half a second that she might be serious.

That rough of a day? I hit send and imagine her working all day, flour in her hair and selling lots of cupcakes.

Yeah

Poor thing. Anything I can do to make it better?

Nah

I’m surprised and honestly a little disappointed when that’s all I get back.

Well, let me know if you change your mind

It seems like the right thing to say, although it’s not what I most want to say. What I want to say is: Come over, I’ll rub down your sore and aching muscles. I’ll run a hot bath and pour a scotch. I’ll make you come, then tuck you in, all before 7PM.

Ava doesn’t text me again, and that pit in my stomach is growing. I roll over what I’ve done and said in the last day and a half to have fucked this up again. Maybe I was too much, too fast? I know I can be a lot for someone, my enthusiasm tends to get the best of me. But it never felt that way when we were around each other.

Ivy can sense my disappointment as she meets me in the parking garage the next morning.

“What’s wrong?”

I shrug. I can’t start with the whole story or I’m going to end up crying in the lobby of our building, and Lord knows the security guard doesn’t need that.

Again.

“Well, when you’re ready to talk, I’m here. Message me if it’s easier, ok?”

“Thanks for the coffee. You’re a good friend, Ivy.”

I sniffle, the tears stinging my eyes. I’m lucky to have Ivy, Matt, Cat, and the rest of my friends, who I don’t make enough of an effort to see.

By lunch, I’m ready to talk a little.

“So, she’s just kind of … changed. Like, she barely texted yesterday.”

“But she did text? And respond? Who texted who first?”

“She texted me first, and she responded a few times, then disappeared.”

“Nothing today?” Ivy asks, chewing at her expertly-manicured fingernail.

I shake my head. “No. Should I text her?”

Ivy considers this for a minute, staring a little too hard at the ceiling tiles. “Maybe? Do you want to?”

“Yeah, of course I do.”

“Then I say do it. Text her. Maybe she’s waiting for you to text.”

I shrug; that seems like fair advice. I tap out a text asking Ava how her day is going, then tap send.

It takes until well into the night for her to reply.

Insane

After considering a few replies, I finally tap out something supportive and ask again if she needs anything. The rest of the night passes with no reply, and I’m starting to actually get a little upset. I’m a good person, one might even think I’m a halfway reasonable girlfriend. Even though I’m not her girlfriend.

I spend the better part of the following day venting to poor Ivy, who mostly nods and agrees with me.

Toward the end of the day, I decide to text Ava again.

Is there something we need to talk about? I feel like you’ve barely said two words to me.

My phone flashes with an incoming call, and I panic. It’s Ava, so I know I should answer, but the pit in my stomach is now made of lead, and I don’t want this version of reality.

“Hello,” I say, answering.

“Hey.”

She sounds as exhausted as her texts made her out to be, and I instantly feel bad for adding more to her plate.

“I don’t want to have this conversation through text,” she says.

I nod, then realize I have to speak. “Yeah, me either.”

“I really like you, Jane,” she says it like a curse. Like she’s surprised. Like she never thought anything would happen. Like it’s the worst thing that could have happened. “I really like you, and the thing is, I can’t like like anyone right now.”

“Okay.”

I don’t want to ask questions, I don’t want to pry. I want to sink into the floor and pretend none of this happened. I want to erase the memories of her in my bed. I want to forget the amazing coffee she makes, and the cupcakes that were mine alone.

“I still want you in my life. I know that’s selfish, but I just…” She exhales and the sound is harsh against my ear.

“That would be nice,” I say, as the first few tears fall. “We can be friends.”

Inside, I’m groaning at myself and my own desperation.

“We can? I’m glad for that. I wasn’t expecting to meet someone so soon after.”

She trails off, leaving the thought end without clarity and I’m not exactly sure what she means.

“Sure. Of course.”

I know I need to end the call soon, my nose is going to get stuffy and then it will be obvious that I’m a fucking idiot who can’t control her expectations or tears.

“Is it okay if I still text you?” I ask, trying to wrap the conversation up.

“Yeah, man. Absolutely.”

“Okay, well, have a good night then.”

“Goodnight,” she says, in that sleepy voice that I’m so angry I know is the one she has right before she falls asleep.

Fuck everything.

I call out to work the next day, needing a mental health day. Really, I’m being overly dramatic for something that was two weeks old, but whatever. I order greasy Chinese food and a grocery delivery that wouldn’t quality as any sort of grown up groceries, much less anything that could be cobbled into a meal, and settle onto the couch for a few hours. My mood rotates from angry to upset to depressed to hopeless and back to angry. There are a few pints of ice cream.

Yes, pints with an s.

Around 3PM, I start to feel better, but still can’t make myself stop watching terrible romance movies that only remind me that a) I’m not straight, and b) I’m alone.

Well, alone with Cat.

Why is it that those stupid channels can’t get with the times and give me one gay or lesbian movie. Would it really kill them? Even Arthur has a gay character, and it’s a damn kid’s show.

Suddenly, I realize what I really need; I call my mom. Her voice makes me smile, and the way she always has my back is amazing. She never once asks what I did to fuck things up, even though I’ve gone over it in my head a million times and have cataloged all the possible ways. I could give her an alphabetical list at this point.

“Well, Janey, you know it’s all going to be okay, right?”

“I know, Mom. I know.”

“I wish we were closer, hon. Do you want me to come down for a visit? I’m sure Dad will be fine. Might even do him some good to have to cook his own meals for a few days.”

“No, no. I’m fine, really.”

“Well, if you change your mind, call me. I can be there in an afternoon, ya know. Dad can watch Peanut Butter and Jelly.”

After she says their names, I realize how much I miss the family dogs.

“Maybe I’ll come up for a visit soon?”

“We would love that, kiddo. Just let me know. I’ll fix up the guest room.” There’s a quiet pause, but it’s not awkward. “I love you so much, honey.”

“I love you too, Mom.”

I definitely stay in the same place I had been and fall asleep on the couch. I wake up to Cat loudly licking the inside of an empty cardboard pint container. I can’t even be mad at him; it was the good stuff.

All of me wants to call out from work again, but I can’t. I rarely call out sick, and this one event isn’t allowed to crush me. I’m stronger than that.

After I shower, I text Ivy and ask her to bring me a special coffee today. I’m in the mood for something fancy, with multiple names, not a boring drip coffee. She replies with a skull and crossbones, but I know she’ll order it because she loves me and sometimes friends have to order silly, ridiculously named drinks for each other.

“You look better,” she says, handing me the giant vessel of whipped cream.

“Thanks. I feel better. If she can’t see how amazing all this, is,” I say, turning around. “Then I don’t know why I would want to waste my time with her anyway.”

Ivy smiles. “That’s my girl.”

We get through the day together, messaging back and forth and I try to ignore my phone when it chirps, I really do. But I can’t. It’s Ava.

How’s your day?

Now, hear me out. I know I should wait and respond sometime later, but there’s no more need to, right? We’re simply two friends, chatting. I wouldn’t make Ivy wait and text her hours later, so why should I do it here?

I bite my lip to keep the tears in at the reminder.

My day is great. Yours?

Fake it til you make it, right?

Busy still. I wish I could find someone reliable here. It feels overwhelming at times.

I want to empathize, to tell her that I can imagine how it feels -- the pressures of having employees and being the sole person responsible for keeping the doors open. I had considered opening my own business a while back, a cute little coffee shop cafe, but I knew I couldn’t do it on my own. Instead of responding the way I want, I tap out a simple I bet and hit send.

As I’m laying in bed that night, but not quite asleep yet, my phone buzzes on my nightstand.

I just want one thing to give and go my way.

I can relate, Ava.

Do you want to talk about all the things going wrong?

I’m pretty sure she’s going to say no again, but I risk asking just in case. I want to be a good friend, even if I can’t quite detach from it all yet. I’ll get there.

I need to close my eyes, but thank you, Jane. You’re the best.

Yes, Ava, I am. Now if only you could really see that, too.

#wlw #original fiction #lesbian #women loving women #free books #original characters #lesbian fiction #i hate thinking of tags

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theanonauthorfanfic · 6 years ago

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All is Fair in Love and War

Summary: Bucky was a successful photographer and Steve was an anxiety ridden starving artist that has given up.

Warning: Depression, anxiety, toxic relationship, smut (18+ only) upcoming chapters.

Bucky Barnes was a successful photographer that was being used for magazines all over the world. He had built his business from the ground up. When he wasn’t in work mode, he was with the most amazing guy that made him super happy.

Steve Rogers was a starving artist. He had a passion for drawing but that always fell through. He was attempting to write some novels and then he hit a hard writers block. He found that he could only write if he wrote with other people. Steve started to role play with others online using characters he created. When he wasn’t role playing, he was with the best guy that made him smile.

Bucky had come home after a difficult shoot. He wanted to vent about how much divas the models were and wanted Steve to be on his side. “Honey, I’m home,” Bucky chimed.

“Hey babe, how was work,” Steve asked.

“Ugh, the model was like little blood sucking dragons today. It was so messed up no matter what I did I couldn’t make anyone happy today,” Bucky slowly started to get undressed.

“Babe, I am sure it wasn’t that bad. You always complain about how much your job sucks but you love having your own business,” Steve reprimanded.

Bucky was shocked that Steve would speak to him like this. “I had a fucking bad day. I needed to vent is it so bad that I wanted to vent to my hubby,” Bucky angrily responded.

Steve got quiet and just sat there. Bucky knew he wasn’t going to get a response. Bucky ended up grabbing his laptop and book he was reading and curled up on the couch while Steve watched some show about survival. Bucky was getting bored of the same bullshit show after bullshit show. He felt like he wasn’t allowed to watch anything he wanted to anymore unless Steve wasn’t engaged in watching TV at all.

Bucky plugged his headphones into his computer and put on music as he started to edit photos from when he was just walking the city a few weeks back. He was so focused on what he was doing he didn’t notice Steve trying to get his attention.

Steve started to talk with Bucky and Bucky wasn’t responding. Steve thought maybe that is what I get for getting quiet on him. Steve didn’t even bother to look to see if Bucky had his headphones on. Steve flipped Bucky off.

“What was that for,” Bucky asked as he slid off his headphones.

“You weren’t listening to me or paying attention to me,” Steve chided. Bucky rolled his eyes.

“What did you do today Stevie,” Bucky mentioned.

Steve launched into a tirade about some bullshit that was roleplay related. “Well I was talking with Sharon. We ended up fighting and I cried for a while. We still have some unresolved issues,” Steve explained.

“Yeah, I get that. Miss communication sucks,” Bucky motioned through the conversation. Bucky had to act interested otherwise Steve would get mad. Bucky felt like he was a child and Steve was the parent.

There was a knock at the door as a package arrived. Bucky went to go get it. He smiled when he saw it because he knew it was the collectable from his favorite movie growing up as a kid.

“What the hell did you buy now Buck,” Steve scolded.

“Just a collectable that I can’t find anywhere for The Wizard of Oz,” Bucky was proud of his find.

“You always buy stupid shit. We have too much shit as it is. I feel like everyday you have a package being delivered and you don’t ask me about it,” Steve was getting angrier.

“Why should I consult you. Its my money I work hard for. Its not like you bring in anything. You haven’t had an income for 5 years. You stopped going to school. You never looked for a job. You buy stupid virtual shit for your games on your computer or phone but I buy what I want with my money and I get yelled at,” Bucky reacted. Steve stared at him in shock.

“Are you fucking kidding me? You know I am super insecure. I get sick super easy and am in pain all the time. I thought you supported me,” Steve stunned responded.

Bucky was furious. “Let’s talk about the real elephant in the room. I want to have a child and you don’t. You don’t want to be a parent. You don’t want to expand our family. Fuck, Steve we haven’t had sex in 5 years. I have to masturbate if I want to get off. Do you even love me anymore,” Bucky asked bluntly? He was sick of skirting the issues they never addressed anymore. They had stopped communicating. Bucky ended up throwing himself into work and Steve threw himself into roleplaying.

Steve whispered, “Buck, I am sorry I don’t want what you want. I want you to have that but you need to still be in my life. What if we opened up our marriage and you were able to date women to be able to have a girlfriend that would have a kid with you and raise it with you. I don’t want to be known as its parent Buck. I still love you.”

Bucky broke down and cried. He sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. It felt like Steve was breaking up with him. Bucky curled up in their bed and just continued to wallow in what felt like Steve and his relationship ending. Bucky cried himself to sleep.

Steve came into the bedroom after hours of being online and roleplaying it was 4am. Bucky was sprawled on the bed. Steve huffed because he had very little room on the bed. Bucky was curled up with a wolf stuffed animal. Bucky had looked like he had been through hell. Steve climbed into bed and tried to get comfortable. He ended up pushing at Bucky until Bucky turned and gave him some room on the bed. Bucky had turned away from Steve and whimpered like he was still crying. Steve felt like he didn’t know Bucky anymore. Bucky wanted kids and a family while Steve didn’t. Steve was someone who enjoyed kids when they weren’t his own. Steve never pictured himself as a parent. He knew Bucky wanted a family and the pitter patter of little feet running throughout their house but Steve didn’t after Bucky’s accident. Steve turned away from Bucky and tried to sleep.

Bucky stretched and blinked awake. He felt like he had been hit by a truck and then remembered the conversation with Steve from the night before. He immediately fell into the dark rut. He saw himself having a life with Steve and raising a family together. After that last argument Bucky only saw himself raising a child by himself and Steve isn’t in the picture. Bucky choked off a sob. Bucky looked around for Steve and he was no where to be found. Bucky closed his eyes and sighed. He was thinking how he had wasted the last 5 years of his life. Maybe when Steve tried to break up with him 5 years ago, he should have just accepted and moved on. Bucky slowly got out of bed and shrugged on sweats. He wasn’t going to work today at all. Bucky had a headache from all the crying.

Bucky had a blanket wrapped around him as he made his way to the living room. Bucky shuffled though each moment. He didn’t know how to talk to Steve without crying or wanting to hit him. Bucky sank down on the couch and cocooned himself. He flipped on the tv and turned on some show the was mindless. Bucky wasn’t really paying attention to it. He was just staring at the tv.

Steve had wondered out from the office he created so he can roleplay in silence. Steve saw Bucky just sitting there looking like a shell of a person. “Good Morning Buck,” Steve said softly.

Bucky responded on autopilot, “Good Morning Stevie.” Steve wasn’t thrilled to see Buck so broken.

“Buck are you okay,” Steve asked.

Bucky blinked, “I am fucking fantastic Stevie.”

Steve heard the sarcasm in Bucky’s voice. “You don’t have to be rude,” Steve responded coldly.

Bucky wrapped the blanket around himself tighter and hung his head. Bucky got quiet and turned the volume on the tv up. Steve got angry and shut down. Steve clenched his jaw and clenched his fists. This had become normal for them over the last few years. Bucky wasn’t confident in himself anymore. Every time his confidence started to come back Steve cut him down. They kicked each other down without meaning too.

Bucky couldn’t take the tension anymore and shut off the tv and got up. Steve was still angry and lashed out verbally.

“Where do you think you are going,” Steve yelled.

Bucky sniffled, “I am going to the bedroom to help me get back into the right frame of mind.”

“Well, I am going out,” Steve grabbed the keys and stormed out of the house.

Bucky collapsed back on the couch crying. He didn’t want to fight with Steve. He wanted to go back to what they had when they first got together. Bucky grabbed a pen and some paper to write out his feelings. He was bawling and could barely see as he poured his heart out onto the paper. He wanted Steve to know how he felt and what he was going through mentally. Bucky wanted to raise a family and he wanted to convince Steve that he needed it. He hoped Steve would be okay with it and allow him to have at least one child. Bucky wanted to have the child be biologically his so he would need to use a surrogate. Bucky felt so raw and exhausted as the hours passed. He had been writing for 2 hours and Steve still wasn’t back yet. Bucky felt so tired. He picked himself off the couch after leaving the letter to Steve on the counter. Bucky needed to sleep. Bucky didn’t both getting changed. He laid down in bed and fell into a deep sleep.

Tags: @buckmesideways22 @oleanderbat , @buckyzgurl , @scarletsoldierrr , @kombatfather1796

#Bucky Barnes #steve and bucky #bucky barnes x steve rogers #au steve rogers #au bucky barnes #theanonauthorfanfic #Steve Rogers #bucky x steve #bucky and steve smut #bucky barnes smut #steve rogers smut #Chris Evans #chris evans smut #Sebastian Stan #sebastian stan smut #photographer bucky #PRE-SERUM STEVE

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lizartgurl · 6 years ago

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“Back To You” (Aqualad x OC)

PART TWELVE

(part one) (part two) (part three) (part four) (part five) (part six)(part seven) (part eight) (part nine) (part ten) (part eleven)

@flamebiirds @super-spoiler @keanureevesislesbian@lesbianstargirl @princes-jasmine @the-shadow-of-atlantis

“The traffickers can control the Whitago?” Aqualad asked, his swords drawn and pointed at the nearest creature , backing towards Nightingale and Equinox.

“They aren’t supposed to be controlled!” Miiyahbin cried. “They’re creatures of chaos!”

“Chaos?” Nightingale looked to Aqualad.

“Vengeance, death, destruction,” Equinox said, “They drowned or were starved, often by another person, and came back to seek revenge.”

Nightingale grabbed Kaldur’s arm, her free hand crackling with static electricity, “Do you think the Light may be involved in this?”

“Klarion is supposed to be off-world,” Kaldur said slowly, “And I have not sensed any mystical forces since arriving in Moose Factory.”

Emma held out her staff, warning the Whitago to keep their distance as they continued on, slowly walking backwards in the direction of the hidden base.

“Nightingale?” Equinox squeaked, grabbing her shoulder.

Emma looked over her shoulder, just long enough to see more Whitago appearing from behind the trees in the direction they were heading.

They were surrounded.

Of course, it could just be mere coincidence that the Whitago were just now attacking them, on the day that they planned to mount their rescue of a hundred or so missing women and children, on the eve of the Winter Solstice.

“Equinox, Aqualad, give me options. How do we take these guys down?” Nightingale demanded. The Whitago inched forward, slowly but surely.

“Um, run?” Equinox hazarded.

Aqualad grunted, his swords proving the only light available in the night of the new moon. A perfect night for an ambush. ”I would have to agree.”

Fine. “Equinox, fly. We’ll meet you at the secret entrance.”

“But you said-”

“-And don’t do anything stupid until we get there!” Nightingale finished.

Miiyahbin had to grin, before she leaped into the air, disappearing into the treetops. The Whitago glanced after her, giving Aqualad the opportunity they needed. The snow hit the Whitago like the ocean’s rage, pushing them back and down.

“Hold on!” Emma didn’t pause to think if she could get them out of there, she just knew that they had to get to the girls, whether or not her wings were in top shape. She wrapped her arms around Kaldur’s chest while the Whitago were disoriented, and with a shout that tore through the forest tundra, her wings ripped out from beneath her uniform, as pale and deformed as the creatures bearing down at them.

With all her strength, and with tears in her eyes, Emma gave a huge push with her wings, creating another wave of snow against the Whitago and launching them into the sky.

“Emma!” Kaldur’s shout was lost to the wind, or maybe she just chose to ignore it. “Your wings!”

They crashed into a pile of snow right outside the secret entrance, where Miiyahbin was waiting for them.

“Come on! We gotta hurry!”

“Emma,” Kaldur tried again.

“Hush,” Emma was flushed from the bitter cold, “We can’t let them find us. You and Miiyahbin get the girls free, I’ll hack their system.”

Kaldur grabbed her hand, pulling her away from the vents for a moment. “Stay safe.”

Emma hesitated for a moment, and kissed his cheek.

“You too, Kal.”

She disappeared into the darkness of the vents.

She found the central operations easily enough, it was being monitored by the same guys who’d been there earlier, indicative of a small staff. She didn’t hesitate to kick off the grate, knock the guns out of their surprised hands, and slam their heads into the back of their chair and the keyboard. She cuffed them together, and then to their chairs.

“By the time this is over, you’ll be begging for justice,” She growled, deactivating the alarm system.

“Crud,” due to the steady stream of messages one of the thugs had been receiving, they had their sub inbound, and it had someone pretty important on it- a buyer perhaps?- and he was due in less than ten minutes. No way Kal and Miiyahbin could get all the cages unlocked in time.

She began downloading all their files, all their prisoners, all their records of sold humans, and one pretty consistent buyer, in big red letters, was someone called “BEDLAM”.

She uploaded all the data to her glove, remotely connected to the Bat-computer with an urgent message for Bruce and Barbara.

Her stomach twisted as the list of missing women kept going. And going. And going. When the upload, which took far too long, was complete, she kicked the thugs one more time to make sure they were out, grabbed her staff, and ran for the containment chamber.

Aqualad was keeping the guards- with no backup on the way- busy, while Equinox freed the girls one at a time, pointing them to the vent exit. Nightingale tossed a few women some lockpicks, and started helping.

“Aqualad, we got company incoming!” She shouted.

Aqualad brought one guard’s face to meet his knee and slammed another into the ground with a mace.

“How long do we have?” Equinox asked.

She checked her timer. “Two minutes!”

Kal threw the last guard into a wall of empty cages, some with dried blood, and started ripping cages apart.

“We don’t have enough time!” Miiyahbin cried, getting the cages on the top rows.

“Keep going!” Emma shouted. The freed prisoners screamed and clung to each other, encouraging those in the vents to crawl faster.

“Equinox, take the others out the main exit, Aqualad and I will free the rest of the girls.”

“Are you sure?” Miiyahbin asked, just now pausing.

Sirens began to blare, announcing the submarine’s arrival.

“I said go!” Emma screamed.

Carrying a few smaller girls, Equinox nodded obediently, although reluctant, and shouted in English, French, and Cree, for the prisoners to follow her.

There were still at least twenty girls still in cages when the airlock began to open. Emma refused to let that deter her, though she and Kaldur were both scared, more so for the prisoners than for themselves.

With a final hiss, the bay door opened, and standing in front of the submarine was another group of armed guards. No boss was evident among them

“Are you Bedlam?” Emma demanded, even as she was unlocking another prisoner from their cage. This time, they made no movement to follow their sisters and friends, too scared of being shot.

One of the traffickers, a tall, thin man who actually wasn’t carrying a rifle like his companions, chuckled in a deep voice. He removed his helmet, handing it to one of his subordinates.

“I am afraid that I, personally, am not Bedlam. Though I must congratulate you on your efforts. Not many have gotten this far.”

“Then who are you?” Aqualad asked. The woman he’d freed was a shaking, sobbing mess, who refused to let go of the safety that a superhero promised. Nightingale, hid the other freed prisoners behind her fragile wings, attempting to shield some of the girls still in cages as well.

The man chuckled again, running his hand through his pale, receding, strawberry-blond hair. “Now just because you’ve proven yourself clever this far, doesn't mean I’m going to reward you by just giving you the information you want, that’s just not fair, is it?”

“It’s not fair that you’re kidnapping all these people!”

He shrugged, making a flatulence noise with his lips. “You ever heard of survival of the fittest? No one was gonna miss these girlies.”

Emma was getting very tired of hearing that particular philosophy from elitist arse-holes who liked to imagine that their brains and their ability to convince other over-privileged individuals that they deserved to extract more suffering from those they already stood over.

As she sneered at him, he approached the cages, running his fingers over the metal bars of a cage that still held a whimpering, round-eyed, raven-haired girl who couldn’t be much older than Mara.

The teenager she’d just freed grabbed her arm. “I’ve seen him before. They call him Rhodes,” She whispered.

It was Rhodes turn to sneer this time. “Smarter than you look, aren’t you, you little red-”

Kaldur didn’t let him finish his sentence. He charged at Rhodes, grabbing him around the waist and slamming him into the cages. The women and girls screamed, Rhodes’ guards drew their weapons, but were scared to hit their boss with a stray bullet. Emma wasn’t scared. Kaldur was bullet-proof anyway.

“Go!” She pointed the girls in the direction Equinox and the others had gone, and hurried to free the last three girls.

By the time she’d freed the first two Rhodes had his hands on the third, a gun at her head, and his men had Kaldur pinned, a knife at his gills, the most vulnerable part of his nigh-invulnerable Atlantean skin.

“You two have cost me a lot of money, tonight, Nightingale. I just might have to write a strongly-worded letter to Batman. I’m certain that Secretary-General Lex Luthor will also be interested in hearing about this gross breach of international boundaries, as well.”

“Well what do you want me to do about it?” Emma snapped. “Our associate is anonymously forwarding all evidence of your operations here in Angelsport to the authorities. Your prisoners are freed. They’re probably safely in Moose Factory right now, where a whole army of Cree will fight through the teeth before they let you take them back.”

Rhodes grinned, and nodded to one of his men. “Are you sure about that, Miz Nightingale?”

A guard held up a tablet, with security footage of the surrounding forest. Equinox, and all the girls she’d led out of the base, were surrounded and outnumbered by Whitago. Emma paled, and Kaldur too. Miiyahbin was glowing, but that did only so much to hold off the Whitago from so many warm spirits, ripe for exacting vengeance.

#lizart writes #bty aquafire fic #kaldur #kaldur'ahm #aqualad #kaldur imagine #kaldur x oc #aqualad x oc #young justice oc #my ocs #nightingale #fish boy

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raewinncreates · 6 years ago

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Failings - Ignis x POC!Reader

Word Count: 2453 Content Warnings: Dysfunctional relationship, angst, alcohol use, smut

Ignis was late.

Again.

You really should have expected it by now. You knew his devotion to the Crown Prince ran deep; probably far deeper than his feelings for you could ever run. And that stung.

Ignis was always known for his punctuality when it came to work, but it always seemed like his relationship with you sat on the back burner of his mind and it was about time for the pot to boil over yet again.

You hated fighting with him; non-confrontational was your middle name. But you felt you had to fight for the sake of your relationship. Neither of you wanted to leave, but you both knew it wasn’t healthy for you to fight as often as you did. You never got physical with each other, but each battle of sharp words left another dagger stuck in the back of your mind, just waiting for him to drive it deeper and deeper until you finally broke down and ended it.

You sighed and checked your phone, frustration getting the better of you when you saw Ignis had, once again, ignored your texts, leaving you on read. Huffing in resentment, you fought the impulse to launch your phone into the wall and just tossed it onto the couch, moving to the kitchen to pack up the now-cold dinner you’d made for the two of you.

Eyes drifted to the bottle of wine chilling in the fridge as you stuffed the leftovers in the back. If he wants to eat, he can find dinner on his own, you thought, pettiness filling your mind. Fuck it, you thought again, grabbing the unopened wine bottle and corkscrew. If he’s not here, I don’t have to share. You kicked the fridge door shut and stomped over to the master bathroom, wrenching the faucet to near boiling, dropping a bath bomb in the tub, oils and glitter dispersing under the run of water. Deft hands quickly yanked the cork out of the bottle and you immediately took a huge swig, savoring the alcohol as the slight burn tugged at your throat.

You set the bottle down next to the tub and stripped, running into the bedroom to grab a book before slowly lowering yourself into the just below boiling water. You winced but also slowly started to relax, your mind focusing on the novel you’d been dying to finish for the last week while draining the bottle, letting the alcohol cloud your mind. All in an attempt to forget the failed dinner date between yourself and Ignis.

The alcohol soaked into you quickly, the heat of the bath affecting your tolerance and before you knew it, most of the bottle was gone and you’d forgotten all about the man who lived with you. Forgotten that he would come home at some point during the evening.

After a long while soaking your aching body in the tub, the water finally started cooling and you flicked the drain, letting the water slip out. You hoisted yourself out of the tub, stumbling slightly and letting out a slight curse. You took a quick look at yourself in the mirror and smiled crookedly; you’d always enjoyed this particular bath bomb. The golden glitter was a pain in the ass, ‘craft herpes’ as your friends called it, but it always made your dark skin look more radiant and you almost always were in a better mood after using it.

Almost.

The door opened and closed silently, Ignis slipping inside your shared apartment under the assumption you were already asleep. He’d finally gotten a free moment from his duties to the crown and responded to your texts, only to find them completely ignored. And given the late hour, he figured sleep claimed you while waiting for him. Once again.

He sighed, knowing that once you woke up there would be another argument, another time he would say something harsher than he intended and breaking your heart in another little way. He wondered how you could put up with him when all he ever did was hurt you; he wondered when your heart would finally shatter and you would leave him.

Ignis knew he would deserve it; he’d never deserved you by his side in the first place.

Looking around your shared apartment, the lights were still on in the kitchen and living room which was unusual if you’d decided to go to bed. You were normally pretty good about turning things off before turning in for the night. Unless you were severely distracted by something else, which seemed to be the case. Dropping his valise beside the couch, he saw your phone laying on the cushions and clicked the lock button once, taking note of all the latest unread notifications on the screen, including his last texts to you.

His ears perked slightly when he heard light splashing sounds from the bathroom and slight mutters reached him shortly after. So you weren’t just yet asleep; probably almost ready though. He hated thinking it, but if you had already fallen asleep then there wouldn’t be the incoming argument that he knew would burst forth once he stepped foot in your shared bedroom.

Ignis sighed and gripped your phone, taking it with him and plugging it into the charger on your side of the bed. He shucked off his gloves, placing them on his bedside table before slipping out of his shoes and setting them in the walk-in closet. A click of the bathroom door made his head instinctively turn your way and immediately he averted his eyes as he saw your nude form emerge from the bathroom. He did notice the empty wine bottle swinging from your hand before he turned away.

“So, what was it this time?” your voice slurred with drink. “His Royal Highness need a bedtime story? To be tucked in all nice and cozy before your day was over?” You were being petulant and unfair but fuck it, you were drunk and pissed that yet another date night of yours had been ruined by Ignis’ unceasing devotion to his job. Realizing you were still holding the bottle, you frowned and dropped it in the trash bin next to your bedside table. You silently noted your phone was now charging. Well at least he’s being thoughtful about something, you thought while rolling your eyes.

“A council meeting that ran far too late, actually,” he replied tersely, his clipped tone telling you that he didn’t want to deal with another argument. “The discussions regarding the treaty Niflheim put forward recently have been…tense as most council members are not a fan of the way His Majesty is seemingly acquiescing to their demands.” He ran a hand through his hair, eyes avoiding your form as you walked into the closet in front of him, and started dressing in your nightclothes.

“Oh yes, because going along with what the damn Nifs put forward is going to be the best thing for all of us,” you muttered under your breath, still loud enough that Ignis could hear you.

He let out a sharp sigh and stood up, blocking your exit from the closet. “Out with it, Y/N; I know you’re not angry at His Majesty. Let’s just get it out and over with.”

You stared up at him indignantly, your eyes darkening with anger. “Alright, fine! I’ve had a shitty week at work. I’ve been accused by a client of sleeping with her ex-husband, a teenager went missing only to find her at her parent’s house that we removed her from months ago, and another client came to us about how she was being assaulted and raped by her boyfriend. We’ve been planning this date for the last three weeks and for all the Astrals sakes I needed ‘us time’ this week. And the FUCKING NIFS and FUCKING ROYALS ruin it. EVERY! DAMN! TIME!” You poked him in the chest for emphasis and slipped under one of his arms, stalking toward your side of the bed.

Now that you’d finally gotten your vent out your anger completely dissipated, shoulders slumping as you sat and buried your face in your hands. “One night, Ignis. That’s all I wanted. All I needed.” A weak sob and whimper left you, “And you couldn’t even do that for me.”

Ignis sighed and ran a hand through his hair, messing up his normally perfect spiked hairstyle, a few strands falling into his eyes. He walked over toward you, a hand gently touching your shoulder waiting to see if you would shy away from or lean into the touch. Surprisingly, you did nothing, not even a flinch at the sudden contact. “Y/N, I’m so sorry.” He deflated slightly at your immediate scoff. “I don’t want to fight again, especially when you’re drunk and tired. It’s not going to solve anything-”

“I don’t want to fight either but it always ends up like this, Ignis!” You wrapped your arms around his waist, chin pressing against his breastbone as you looked up at him. “We fight, you promise to do better, we make up, and it repeats over and over again. Ignis, why do we keep doing this?”

Tears streamed down your face, hiding them in his chest. You hated him seeing you like this, like you were weak and useless compared to his ever-present competence and outwardly tranquil countenance. “We both know this isn’t right; that this isn’t healthy. We should…” your voice trembled, not wanting to say it but knowing it had to be said. “We should end this…us…It’s not fair to either of us, the way we are constantly fighting, constantly hurting each other.”

Your words, however, belied your actions as your face was still buried in his chest, hands clinging to his jacket. Despite all your difficulties as a couple, you still loved him. And you knew you would always love him.

Ignis’ heart shattered in that moment. He’d always assumed he would be the one to break your heart in the end, but surprisingly, it was you. Rationally, he knew you were right; he knew that nothing about your relationship in this moment was healthy.

But he could fix it, couldn’t he? He could try.

He shook his head, chin brushing against the crown of your head. “No,” he whispered. “No, Y/N, I don’t accept that this is the end. We can salvage this; I know it.” His hand reached up and grasped your chin, tilting your head up to look at him, eyes blotchy and swollen from tears. The glitter on your exposed skin caught his eye, shining like stars against the dark expanse of your skin, like the galaxies that spun endlessly above them in the dark night sky.

“I know I’m not the best at expressing it, but I love you, Y/N, with all my heart.” Ignis dropped to his knees and brushed his nose up against yours. “I’m sorry for tonight. I need to be better about keeping you in the loop about what’s going on with work.” His lips were close enough to yours to kiss, but he didn’t want to press your boundaries. He was still unsure if you would forgive him or not this time around.

But forgive him you did. You always did. Because you loved him.

So with tears still seeping from the corners of your eyes, you shifted slightly, slanting your lips against his in a soft and gentle kiss. He returned it with quiet ardency, not pushing any further than you wished to go. And though the alcohol in your system was probably dulling your senses a bit, you still wanted to feel him; you needed the ignorant bliss and pleasure that he and only he could pull out of you.

“I’m sorry too, Ignis,” you murmured, breaking the kiss. You ghosted your lips across his jaw, placing butterfly kisses on his pale skin. “I shouldn’t blame you; I know your job comes first. It always has. We just…we both need to be better on the communication front, right?” You felt him nod, his own lips grazing against your neck, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up and a soft moan escaping your throat.

“Iggy, please…” you gasped, hands pushing off his jacket and fingers reaching for the buttons on his shirt. “I think we both…nngh…just need to forget this week right now. I need you.”

Ignis could smell the alcohol on your breath and saw the bottle laying in the trash out of the corner of his eye. “Are you certain, love?” he asked, his words unsure. “I don’t want either of us to regret this in the morning.” He nudged your face with his nose again, urging you to look him in the eyes.

Your dark eyes met his own, not blown wide with lust just yet, but almost on the cusp. “Yes, Ignis. I’m sure.” Your hands grasped his face tilting it up and you pressed your lips against his roughly, taking control of the kiss, your tongue thrusting into his mouth with abandon.

Time flowed by quickly, like water bursting from a dam and you let Ignis and his overwhelming presence wash over you. Tongues and teeth and lips clashing, nipping and biting across expanses of skin that were slowly exposed inch by inch. Fingers danced upon pale and dark skin, intertwining and twisting and pinching and pulling. Chests heaved, backs arched, legs tangled, both of you losing yourselves in ecstasy, forgetting the heartaches and stresses of the last few weeks. It had been a while since the two of you were able to make love and now you knew you were both making up for it tenfold.

Murmurs of affection and adoration spilled from both your lips when they weren’t attached to each other, repeating apologies and affirmations of your love. Every stroke, every thrust, every arch and moan was slow, long, and languid as if taking your time with each other could make up for the long days and nights when you weren’t able to express these feelings. It was a marathon, slow and steady, a constant climb up to the precipice and then - a jerk, a thrust, a sudden fall into blissful oblivion that took you both.

Disentangling your limbs, Ignis pulled you close to him before pulling up the covers over your naked bodies. “I’m sorry, love,” he nuzzled his nose into your neck, leaving soft kisses along the lines of your throat and shoulder. “This is all my fault; I’ll do better - I promise.”

“That’s all I’m asking for Iggy,” you murmured, eyes drooping shut as sleep claimed you both.

I can only pray you keep that promise this time.

#fanfiction #final fantasy 15 #final fantasy xv #ignis scientia #ignis stupeo scientia #my writing #repost of old work

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dizzydancingdreamer · 3 years ago

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Incoming really horrific rant just a fair warning to skip it it’s a lot

I am so fucking tired of trying to justify how I feel or trying to sugarcoat it or rationalize it I am so tired of having a brain that makes me do those things I am so tired of continuing to do all the things I love or at least used to and hoping with my fingers crossed that I magically love them again. I’m tired of starting all my sentences with “don’t worry, I don’t want to kill myself, that’s not what this is” because even though it’s true— I never have and never will do that or want to or whatever— it doesn’t make me luckier than anyone who does, it doesn’t make any of this hurt less. It still fucking sucks more than I even have the words to describe. I do everything they say. I try to eat healthy and I try to sleep and I keep going back to painting and writing and crocheting. I try and I try and I try and I still feel like I’m dying all the time. I am so tired of saying sorry and that it’s okay I promise or whatever the fuck. Even as I type this I’m so tempted to explain all the reasons why it really is fine and why I’m just overwhelmed and I’m tired of that. I am so tempted to type don’t worry I just need to vent. Because I do and this is my blog so I can do what I want. But I’m so tired of rationalizing and justifying. This grief fucking destroys you. It fucking eats at you until your brothers and mother look at you like they’re terrified because they don’t know what to do. And like they’re right to do that, this is fucking terrifying. I’m not even 21 and my bones are tired. I lost too much all at once. And before that, last summer, I lost way too fucking much too. And I’m tired of following those sentences with “but it isn’t all bad”. Right now it feels all bad. But I’m not going to fucking kill myself, right? Maybe it all sounds so selfish and maybe I used to look at people like me and think wow you’re so selfish but you know what grief makes you fucking selfish and I don’t want to justify it anymore I just want to hold onto all the pieces of me that are left and not let them go. I am tired. And I am scared. I’m a broken record. And I hate fucking feeling this way and it’s not fair. None of this is fair. I’m tired of trying to convince myself it is

#dizzy rambles #dizzy has hit her breaking point all because of one stupid bitmoji

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aggressivetapdancing · 7 years ago

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Matchmaker

Fandom: Stranger Things

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Requested: @partylikeits1899

“Okay okay okay so I saw your post about writing for other fandoms and I have a Steve request (from Stranger things) okay so like Steve has a crush on the reader and the reader has a crush on Steve and they’re too shy to admit it so Dustin and/or Jonathan tries to set them up and stuff and yeah I just love my boy”

A/N: This is my first time writing anything stranger things so i really hope i did this right and it’s not complete shit + I love my boi too and I loved writing this!! I’m not dead and i have risen from my seemingly eternal slumber of writer’s block!! Wow!! + Steve isn’t dating Nancy (and never did) in this fic just a heads up

A/A/N: This is season 2 Steve btw (If you haven’t watched season 2 yet then there might be some spoilers alright?) Alright let’s go.

Warnings: Swearing??

Words: 2432

“Do you wanna kill a monster with us?”

Steve Harrington was at your doorstep, iconic baseball bat in hand, asking you to go monster hunting.

Totally Normal.

“Are you kidding me?” Was your first response. Ever since you wound up at the Byers place on that fateful night of the demogorgon, you haven’t been able to go outside alone since. The way the lights flickered still sent you goosebumps, and the thought of seeing another monster didn’t make you think twice about your answer: No

Steve just pouted at you, in attempt of trying to persuade you to go with him and- Dustin, who appeared to be waiting in his car.

“C’mon Y/N, monster hunting is fun!” The brunette pushed, waving his nail-spiked bat slowly, inches from your face. You shook your head No again, only to be frowned at before getting dragged into his car.

“Steve! No!” You protested, giggling as he tickled you while attempting to carry you with his free arm into the back seat. He smirked, amused at how squirmish you were, then dropped his bat and targeted at your sides. Steve laughed at how you tried to dodge his incoming fingers; Smile, ever growing on your face; the corners of your eyes, crinkling with joy.

Steve would never admit it, but his heart had been pining for you for quite a while now. There was something about you that made him feel different. It was sometimes warm and fuzzy- like now; and sometimes it’d be hot, heavy and burning. He wouldn’t normally get these feelings when he went out with girls like Becky- or Amy. Something about you made you different from all the other girls- the only problem was, Steve couldn’t exactly pinpoint what.

Now, you had a crush on the brunette as well. He had quite the reputation and Hawkin’s High and you knew all about it. But you saw kindness in him no one has seen before. The way he’d stood up for Nancy when his so called “friends” mocked her- or the way he helped clean up the graffiti they left on the theater- To you, Steve Harrington was more that just a jock with good hair. Steve Harrington had a heart. Something you thought was impossible until he started hanging out with you.

You were now on your knees, curled up in a ball of defense as Steve’s fingers attacked your sides.

“Steve! Ah! Stop! I-can’t breathe!” You say between fits of laughter. The boy only addresses you with a smirk before going “Only if you come monster hunting!”

You nodded quickly, sighing in relief as his hands backed away, looking up to see him looking down at you with a smug smirk on his face.

“Wipe that smirk off before I whack it off your face, Harrington.”

The brunette only brought his face daringly closer to yours, smirk still evident on his face.

“Make me.” He taunted.

You raised an eyebrow, opening your mouth for a comeback before Dustin honked the car horn and eyed you two with a look of unamusement.

“Stop flirting shitheads, and let’s just kill this monster!” He complained, honking the car horn once more.

Steve and you blushed slightly before you both hopped in the vehicle, revving off to go kill whatever the two boys had planned.

Dustin was no love expert, but he knew you and Steve had this connection in a heartbeat.

Well, to be fair- anyone who had a brain could figure out at least one of you had something going on for the other. The little glances they’d take at the other when they thought no one was looking; or the how the hugs between the two of them were always a split second longer than they needed to be.

Maybe Dustin was some sort of love expert- at least he thought he was. He could tell if one liked another. He could also tell that you and Steve were hopeless without a “little push”.

So that’s why the curly haired little boy, had a brilliant idea- and decided to play matchmaker.

It started off as subtle actions: Making sure you and Steve were paired up when checking out his “pet” in the cellar was the first.

Dustin knew you had quite the phobia of all things- well.. Monster, So putting you down the cellar with Steve, was a must.

Now Dustin has had his fair share of romcoms and horrors, and if there’s one thing he knew about girls and horror, was that the girl would always cling to the guy if they were scared. (Well, that’s what he noticed anyways) And that’s what Dustin was aiming to do. Get you scared. -for matchmaking purposes of course.

“See anything down there guys?” he called, waiting for a response. When he didn’t get one, the curly locked boy peered down into the cellar, only to be met with a blinding light coming from the flashlight you were holding, and an unamused frown from Steve, who happened to be carrying some sort of skin.

“We found your pet’s- whatever this is.” You informed Dustin as you climbed up the stairs to meet him on the surface. “I think it’s skin or some shit- I don’t know.”

Steve followed behind you, bat in hand and handed Dustin the piece of skin his monster, apparently named Dart, had managed to shed off.

“Now what?”

“We find the stupid thing, obviously.”

Subtle actions did not work. You and Steve needed a bigger push than that.

So, when you had decided to play bench for a day, Dustin took this as his opportunity to get Steve to open up about you - or, girls at least.

The two of them were walking alongside the tracks of a railway by the forest, throwing scraps of meat in attempt to lure Dart, when Dustin stated his “Problem”.

He’d pretend he needed girl advice (to be honest, he did) and he was hoping the conversation topic of you would somehow come into play.

“The key to girls is acting like you don’t care.” Steve explained when Dustin had brought up his topic.

“Even if you do?” He had replied, throwing another piece of meat behind him, before turning back at the brunette. Steve nodded and told Dustin that “It drives them nuts”, which was a really shitty piece of advice, but Dustin took it anyway.

“Then what?”

Steve sighed, before going “You just wait, until you feel it.”

He threw down another piece of meat, wrinkling his nose in disgust, then explaining that Dustin needed to feel this sort of “electricity”.

“When you feel the electricity, that’s when you make your move.”

Who was Steve kidding when he told Dustin that.

Steve always felt electricity whenever he was around you. The mere action of brushing hands against each others brought sparks up his arm. How soft your hands were made him want to hold them- not just that that though, he wanted to not only hold them, but wanted to know that they were his to hold; that you were his.

And what did he do about it?

Absolutely nothing.

He didn’t make a move, fuck- he didn’t even address these feelings. Steve made it look like he genuinely didn’t care. But he did. He cared so much about you- the way he talked to you, how he acted around you- Steve even started to get a little bit self-conscious when that Billy boy came to town. He didn’t want Billy to take you away from him. He didn’t want to lose you to some sort of buff asshole- but yet, he did nothing. He did absolutely fucking nothing.

“Steve? Steve!”

Steve’s thoughts were interrupted by the whining of his curly haired companion, and he turned around to face him.

“What?”

“After I feel the electricity- is that when I kiss her?”

“No-no woah, slow down Romeo… you see- some girls want you to be aggressive…strong, hot and heavy- like a lion.” Steve began, throwing another scrap behind him. “But with others, you got to be slow.. Stealthy. Like a ninja.”

“What type is Y/N?”

Steve stopped in his tracks and felt the heat rise up to his cheeks. He was most definitely blushing now.

“She’s- she’s different.” He answered.

Dustin could see the blush spreading on the brunette’s face and gave him a knowing grin. His plan was working.

“In what way?”

“What?”

“In what way is she different? What makes her so special from all the other girls?” Dustin asked curiously.

Steve fell silent. He knew damn well what made you special: Everything. None of the girls made him smile more than you did. None of the girls made his knees weak, or his heart pound- none of the girls were you.

“She- she well… she-” The brunette fumbled with his words, wanting to just vent out everything he loved about you- but he wasn’t ‘supposed to care’. Dustin only stared at him with a raised eyebrow, waiting for a response from his so called ‘mentor’.

“You love her don’t you.” Dustin said quietly, grin suddenly spreading on his face when he realized how truly quiet Steve had become.

“You love her!” He repeated again, this time louder and filled with more energy. “You love Y/N and you’re too shy to tell her and you’re just trying to cover up your feelings by being this cool dude who supposedly doesn’t care!”

“Hey- hey! Shut up will you?” Steve complained, afraid that you might hear, even though your house was practically miles from where they were. Dustin’s grin only grew wider as he noticed Steve’s change of attitude.

“You didn’t deny it.” Dustin pointed out, before throwing another scrap on the ground. His gaze was focused on Steve’s expression of realization and he smiled before going “She loves you too.”

“How are you supposed to know?” Steve complained, setting down his now empty bucket and pulling off his rubber gloves. “It’s not like she told you.”

Dustin did the same, fixing his cap in the process. “I’ve been to Mike Wheeler’s house, Steve. You know Nancy Wheeler and Y/N are good friends right?”

Steve only gave the boy a look of confusion. “What does that have to do with her being in love with me?”

“I can hear their conversations from the basement.”

“Nance, I’m telling you. He’s not as much as an asshole as you think! He’s so nice! His hair looks so soft! He looks so good in that jacket!” Dustin mimicked you, smirking at Steve’s reaction.

“She thinks I look good in this jacket?” Steve said to himself, smirking slightly at the thought of you swooning over him. “Well, shit- if she really said that, I should wear this jacket more often.”

Dustin gave him a toothy grin before nodding. “Uh huh. You know what she’d like more though?”

“What?”

“If you were to ask her out, dipshit.”

The brunette scoffed, then shot Dustin a look. “I didn’t know you were playing matchmaker now, Henderson.”

“Been playing matchmaker ever since you invited Y/N to this little escapade we’ve been going on.”

“And why is that?”

“It’s annoying seeing you two do all this couple shit together- yet still not be a couple.” The little boy stated. “And that Billy dude? He could steal your girl in a second.”

“Hey-wait.. How do you know about Billy?”

“Doesn’t matter. Now get your ass to it and ask Y/N out!”

Steve didn’t know how, or why he was following a kid’s advice, but he did it anyway. Dustin had a point- Steve did love Y/N. He could never bear to see her with someone else.

Besides, if he told her how he really felt, what did he have to lose?

It was now dark. The quiet little street you house resided in was empty, you being the only person in there. The lights were dim, and you were sprawled out on the couch, bowl of popcorn in hand, watching your favorite movie for the billionth time. As you lay down, heavily invested in the current scene, you were interrupted by a loud rapping at the door.

Groaning, you lazily got off the couch, bowl of popcorn still in hand. “Coming!”

You reached the doorknob and opened in up to see a nervous Steve, running his hand through his hair.

“Harrington? Here to ask me to go monster hunting again?” You teased, taking a handful of popcorn then popping it in your mouth.

“Uh.. no- I actually came to tell you something else..” Steve said, his sentence trailing off at the end.

“Mm- Then what are you doing inside, come on in. You can tell me while we’re watching the movie.” You invited, bowl of popcorn in one hand, the other grabbing at Steve’s wrist while dragging him over to the couch.

The brunette only sighed before stopping in his tracks, making you do the same.

“Y/N- this is kinda important…”

“Hey- Steve you alright?” Your brows furrowed with concern as you turned to face him. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

He sighed, mumbling incoherently, bringing his head down, gaze down focused on the patterns on your wood floor.

“Steve- hey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong Y/N- it’s just.. I-”

You waited in anticipation, bringing the bowl of popcorn down, setting it on a nearby table. Your hand reached for his, holding it, in an attempt of helping him calm down. The brunette’s head shot up, gaze averting from the floor, now trained on you.

“You can tell me anything.” You smiled.

Without warning, his lips landed on yours. Your eyes fluttered closed and you found yourself kissing back. His lips tasted faintly of Coca Cola, and you felt him smile into the kiss. His hands were down at your waist and you found yours in his oh-so-soft hair.

Pulling back, you looked up at him, seeing he had a wide grin, similar to yours, spread across his face.

Your hand had slipped back into his, his smile widening at the mere action. His fingers curled around yours, gripping them softly- but still tight enough to give him reassurance that you wouldn’t go. You could feel the calluses on his fingers, and sighed happily to yourself knowing that his hand was yours to hold.

“So… You think I look good in this jacket?” the brunette smirked, breaking the comfortable silence that had occurred a few seconds before.

“Oh shut up and kiss me again, Harrington.”

“Will do.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #stranger things #stranger things 2 #stranger things season 2 #stranger things x reader #stranger things 2 x reader #aggressivewritingyeet

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