#when you make a joke with the sole purpose of making 1 person smile and it works

[jvneeyres]

RUPERT PENRY-JONES as Thomas Hamilton and TOBY STEPHENS as James McGraw in Black Sails, Chapter XI.

[kurishiri]

n.1 . . . “ the betraying hunter is tempted by the death god ”

— this translation may not be 100% accurate or may contain creative liberties for characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost or claim these as your own!

— cw: a bit of joking centered around drugs; if i took a shot every time victor’s eyes were compared to jewels, i don’t know how many shots it would be, but it would probably not be healthy /lh

Victor: Good evening to you. The full moon tonight is quite beautiful, isn’t it.

Roger: Yeah, to an almost irritating degree.

Though I didn’t have much of an eye for appearances, even I could tell this person’s face possessed a striking beauty. And collapsed at his feet,

was the criminal in euphoria as he died.

(There’s no stab wound or any sign of physical trauma. And yet… he’s dead?)

I was curious about the cause of death as a former doctor, but there were more pressing matters right now.

Roger: Would you happen to be the head of ‘Crown,’ which consists solely of Cursed ones?

Victor: Indeed, that is me.

The man flashed me a smile, and in a single blink of the eye—

Roger: …!

The distance between us closed, and he poked my nose with his fingertips.

Victor: Now, I have answered one of your questions. So, would it be fair to ask the same of you?

V: Entry is forbidden in this area even by the police…

V: …which you don’t appear to be one anyway. On top of that, you are not a member of Crown either, so what brings you here?

Those jewel-like eyes seemed to make the heart waver, and they seemed as though they could see completely through me.

(Well, not that I had any intention of faking it ‘til I make it in the first place.)

Roger: See, my dad’s a doctor. So I bring the deceased who have faced strange or inexplicable deaths back for an autopsy.

Victor: That is to say then that you come around when you hear any information on incidents happening out on the streets?

Roger: Yeah, that’s right. That said, I don’t actually have permission to step foot in here, unfortunately.

R: Getting permission would take too much time. I jumped over the fence back there.

Victor: ……… [surprised]

V: Haha, how nice, there’s nothing I like more than naughty boys.

The moment the air around us lightened up, I found the gap between my emotions close.

Roger: There’s a man named Alfons in there, right? He joined Crown a year ago.

R: He and I go back a long way, so that’s how I know of Crown’s existence.

Victor: Crown’s existence should be kept confidential, that Alfons…

Roger: No, he didn’t leak any information about Crown to me.

R: But I can hear sounds from up to a hundred yards away. Because I also hold an unnatural ability as one of the Cursed.

Victor: Hmm…

Roger: Will you let me join Crown? I’m sure I’ll be of use to you in some way.

In order to find a way to rid the world of Curses, I would like to have even just one more sample of a Cursed one.

As such, Crown — an organization consisting solely of Cursed ones — was the ideal place for me to be.

Victor: Crown is a place where the scent of death will follow you where you go. Surely not somewhere you’d choose to go to of your own volition.

Those jewel-like eyes questioned me: ‘And yet, why?’

(Best to keep things simple here.)

Roger: I’ve had a personal interest in Curses, so I’m researching them. You can call it the nature of a former doctor.

Victor: I see. Well then, this is the prime opportunity.

V: I’m sure the choice between taking another ally or having them die upon knowing the existence of Crown is an obvious one.

All he did was say those words with a smile on his face, and yet I felt the night air grow cold.

Victor: Seeing as you have the resolve, I feel you’re well suited for Crown. So, I look forward to working with you, Roger.

He held out his own hand, but all I could do was stare back at it.

Roger: …I’m pretty sure I haven’t given you my name, have I?

Those eyes that seemed to hold jewels simply smiled at me in silence.

The moment I took his hand, it felt deep and dark——the fragrance of night that told me there was no going back, that is.

When I safely joined Crown, my first step was to devise a plan to make a medical record for Victor.

But…

Roger: Victor, do you have time for an exami—

Victor: Ahh, Roger! I managed to get some valuable beer, so how about we have a drink together?

Roger: Beer? Dammit… I know you’re playing dirty.

—— Time skip ——

Roger: Victor, today’s the day you promised I could exami—

William: If you’re looking for Victor, he is currently abroad on orders from Her Majesty. He will return in three days time.

Maybe it was simply the nature of a hunter to have a strengthening desire to chase after those that played hard to catch.

Then, I found my biggest chance — Victor was accompanying someone from America who was a heavy drinker,

and rumors spread that he was intoxicated at the castle.

I approached a certain someone who was sitting with his eyes closed——but.

Victor: If you’re going to jump on someone in their sleep, you should at least spike something with a sleeping drug first, Roger.

His eyes, gleaming like jewels, suddenly opened.

Roger: So you are strong to liquor, aren’t you. ‘Cause if that’s the case, one sleeping drug wouldn’t cut it.

Victor: Oh my, I see you’ve finally managed to find out something about me.

Crown was practically a hub for some strange people, but this person’s enigma seemed to know no bounds.

Roger: Victor. Just what are you?

Victor: Perhaps I may be cursed, but on the other hand, I may also not be.

Roger: What’s that supposed to mean? You were the one who said Crown consisted only of Cursed ones, right?

Victor: Oh, but never once did I say that I was Cursed.

Roger: .........

R: ...You sneaky bastard.

(It’s not as though I’ve given up on finding out more about Victor.)

(But, I also feel it just can’t be helped that I only know so much. Because——)

I felt that he was bearing a darkness alone, one more deep than any of us could imagine.

Roger: ...Well, guess I should let it go as long as I can collect research funds. For now, at least.

I turned to the next medical record.

Roger: Elbert Greetia. Bearer of the Greedy Queen’s Curse.

← prev next →

full masterlist 💀

[writing-with-rain]

"Firsts"

Bluepulse Week 2023; Day 1

Dec. 10, 2023

"Young Justice"

Summary: Bart is more than excited for the night ahead, practically vibrating through the floor with every passing second – very slow seconds, he unfortunately laments. This evening, at 5 on the dot, Bart is expecting a knock on the door from his favorite hero in Blue. Sure, his feelings had been conflicting when he had first arrived, Jaime was cute, but Bart had a mission, one that centered around blue and black clad hero he stuck so close to, but dangers had since past, and Bart had found it harder to ignore that gnawing thought. And finally, finally, Bart was going to be going on his first date, both in general and with Jaime. 

Time moves quicker than his own internal clock. 

Bart knows this. Every speedster knows this. Even Don and Dawn, in all this small toddler minded glory, are grasping at the concept that time just moves differently for them. After all, super speed was never just that. 

But this was getting ridiculous. It was as if the world had caught a whiff of his excitement for the night and personally pulled on the reins of time to slow it to less than a trickle. He had been staring at this clock for the last two hours (it had been 2 minutes), and still he seemed no closer to the hour hand landing on the 5 as it was supposed to. 

Jay, who had been all too amused with the situation, had left the doorway he had been standing in – so when Bart let out another over exaggerated sigh there was nothing but a laugh from the older man two rooms over. 

“The clock isn’t gonna get to 5 any faster.” 

Bart’s face scrunched at the comment. “It will if I move the hand.” 

“Don’t you dare, besides,” Jay chimed as he entered Bart’s line of sight once more, “it won’t make Jaime get here earlier.” 

Bart didn’t give more than another annoyed huff, rolling over on his bed and facing the wall. 

“You’ll mess your hair up, Bart,” Jay called, walking back to the kitchen. “Again!” 

He couldn’t help but laugh at that, sitting up and glancing in a mirror to run a hand through his hair once more in a half-hearted attempt to tame it. As unruly as it could be, he did want to look presentable for his first date. Especially when that date was supposed to be with Jaime. 

It was a lulling thought for the moment, a flash flood of memories and emotions in quick succession. 

Too skinny Bart Allen had managed to get to the past, with the sole mission of stopping the Reach apocalypse at any cost. And then he had been face-to-face with The Blue Beetle and hadn’t even realized it at first. His one-track mind had been faster than he was and soon enough Bart had been spending as much time with one Jaime Reyes as he could. But then things had gotten a little complicated – Bart had never let himself become too comfortable with the past, not until he was sure it was fixed, but that hadn’t stopped those little budding feelings from taking root in his brain, deeper and deeper, every time he was around Jaime. 

Small things he did, the way he laughed or the way he rolled his eyes and looked away to hide his smile every time Bart cracked a particularly bad joke were imprinted in his head. And then the speedster caught himself doing it on purpose, just to try and get one more smile or one more laugh out of his friend. 

Surprisingly, the first time he had caught himself calling Jaime his friend, the realization didn’t set him on edge. It had felt completely normal. All of it did, along with those little nudges of protectiveness that he embraced in full force. 

It the Reach was going to take Jaime from him, or even Khaji Da, they were going to have to take Bart out kicking and screaming first. 

And nobody could say that the speedster hadn’t stuck to his guns the moment he decided he was going to pour everything into protecting Jaime – throwing those (now not so reasonable) alternatives to the wind. 

He had. 

He had given every bit of himself to making sure he brought Jaime home. And Jaime had been there for him just as much when Bart was left reeling at the sacrifices it cost. That the Reach had cost them. 

That was how things had stayed for a time. With everyone just figuring out how to heal, and how to navigate a new kind of normal. 

But caught up in his own world and stretched like a starfish across his bed, Bart hadn’t realized that father time had finally gotten around to granting his wish, with the hour hand finally ticking gently over the 5. His mind was still a mile away before he was jolted back to the present by a swift knock on the front door. 

Jay hadn’t even moved from his spot to answer it, knowing Bart would be there faster than a heartbeat. And he was, swinging the door open with a smile bright enough to put the sun to shame. 

For what it was worth, Jaime returned the look with upmost adoration, taking a moment to just look at Bart before the speedster was nudging them out the door; he knew full and well Jay was going to try getting photos for Iris, Bart had heard the conversation earlier over the phone. 

Thankfully Jaime let Bart drag him along without a fuss, following in quick step next to the younger of the pair. “You look good.” 

“Don’t I always?” 

Jaime could only roll his eyes and scoff, “let me compliment you, chiquito.” 

Bart shrugged, looking away as the two made their way down the street and headed further into the city. “It just feels a bit different now, you know?” When he glanced back over to Jaime it wasn’t hard to miss the soft smile on his face. 

“I get it,” he cast a lazy glance over at Bart, meeting his eyes for the first time. “I spent two hours picking my clothes before Mils started making fun of me for worrying.” 

That was an easy scene to picture, Milagro sticking her head into Jaime’s room or sitting on the bed and poking fun at him before he chased her out of the room, or his mom can up to collect her. It was endearing either way it would have played out. 

“I would have thought you looked good either way?” 

“Sure, but you dressed up for our date,” Jaime chimed, knocking shoulders with him for the moment. 

“I had Iris to worry about.” Instead of pulling away, Bart slips his hand into Jaime’s to intertwine their fingers. 

“You’re doing it again.” 

“What?” Bart asks, genuinely puzzled. 

Jaime swings their hands absentmindedly as they continue, taking the lead. “Your nose is scrunched up again, you’re overthinking.” 

Bart hums in acknowledgment. “I’ve been thinking about it since you asked me out -” 

“Since you almost jumped me about it,” Jaime corrects with a sly grin. 

“Since you asked me.” He huffs. “But are things going to change between us? Like, a lot - because what we have is pretty crash.” 

Jaime was quiet for a moment, tugging Bart closer until he was tucked comfortably against his side. “I don’t think it’s going to change as much as you’re worried about.” 

“Good, because I like us.” 

Jaime couldn’t help but smile once again, his hand slipping from Bart’s to tighten around his waist as he dragged him forward for their date. “I like us too.” 

[enhalusional]

A Debt Of A Lifetime [K.SN]

Synopsis: Sohee lives in downtown Seoul. She's navigated her life through thugs, rapists, abuse and starvation. But none bigger than her own father. She's working 5 jobs a day to bring food on the table only for her addict of a father to ruin all of it. Amidst all of this, she has one thing in her life that brings a smile to her face. Enhypen. When she's presented with a chance to meet them in person, she's going to grab the opportunity. But what if she has to get her hands dirty? Joke's on you, her hands were never clean. And Joke's on her as well, because nothing in her life ever goes straight.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Do you know what it feels like to have an empty mind devoid of any thoughts? So empty that thinking about something makes you feel tired because you're so used to the silence around you? It's not that you don't have enough going on in your life to worry about, but everything just passes through you and you don't feel a thing. No, you're not mentally retarded. You're completely healthy, I suppose. But somewhere along the way, you just lost the ability to feel.

But even in the deafening silence, there must be something that soothes you, makes breathing easier, lets you close your eyes and gets your mind working.

Music.

The earliest thing Sohee remembered was her mother's lullaby. She might've forgotten her mother's face and her voice when she spoke to her, but the serene tune always stayed locked away in her mind. Until those lullabies stopped abruptly and the second earliest thing she remembered was a bang. And she kept hearing it from then on. Until way later in her life when she understood what the sound was.

A gunshot.

Those two sounds followed her throughout her life. She found a way to keep her mother's lullaby close. A tape recorder. That was the first thing she had stolen. That too at the age of five. It wasn't until she was ten that she got her hands on a Walkman. It was an old one. But it did the job. It introduced her to the world of music. It wasn't long until she started having earphones plugged into her ears all the time. Because come on, who wanted to listen to the continuous banging on the door and occasional shouts from across the street?

And it wasn't long until she discovered K-pop. She drowned herself in the world of glamour. Those shimmering outfits and the cheers from the crowd. So different from her dingy world. It was like a new door had been unlocked. The world did not start and end in grey. It also had other colors. Pink, red, purple, orange, white...

It was not long until she discovered a certain band.

Even though it's lonely, there's no place to lean on.

Even though it's painful, there's no place to stop.

The purpose of waiting and enduring,

Only after I finally met you,

Only after you held my hands do I realize it.

But it was the first time that she felt her heartbeat quicken. Her sole focus was on the seven boys. her lips were parted throughout the time. She drank them in. their faces, their voices and little details in their body languages. And for the first time she remembered, she broke into a smile.

[yourmidnightlover]

the nickname

Summary: reader convinced spencer to let her take the reins in the bedroom... or does she?

TW: oral (male recieving), fingering, mention of overstimulation, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, riding, scratching, use of nicknames (princess, love, etc.), hints at sugar daddy!spencer, age gap (not specified but i’m thinking around 10-15 years). *let me know if i missed anything*

WC: 2,912

A/N: this hinted at sugar daddy!spencer (not really hinted so much as saying it outright). I also wrote this for @anxiousblanketqueen ‘s fic contest for her birthday! i believe it’s prompt number 21. i hope you enjoy :)

————————————————————————

you had been together for a while, now. maybe 13 months? you bet spencer could recall - more like knew he could.

you had met when you were one of his students. you're going to georgetown on an academic scholarship because no way in hell could you pay for the full tuition when you still couldn't afford it with the scholarships.

he took a liking to you - how could he not? you were a hard worker and proved yourself to be extremely determined. on top of the obvious intelligence, you had a beauty that radiated around you. and that beauty had a touch of... innocence. and maybe that innocent beauty is what initially attracted him to you, but he'd like to think it was just your personality as a whole.

you were never one of the students who would come to his office after hours for help you clearly didn't need. you would use your colored pens and highlighters to help organize your notes, so it took a while to pack everything up to leave.

one day, when there weren't any students lined up out his door, he went to your seat as you were cleaning up. you looked up, rather surprised that your inappropriate crush was standing right by you.

"uhm... hi," you smiled at him as you put your pencil pouch in your bag, breaking eye contact for the briefest of seconds before returning your attention back to him.

"hi. i was uhm..." he cleared his throat, "i was wondering if you had any questions? you never come to the office hours for questions and i was just... just making sure," he stuttered out.

"oh," you chuckled a light, airy laugh that spencer wished he had recorded so he could replay it over and over and over. "i don't have any questions. i guess that just means that you're a really good professor - very thorough," you stood up and flung the bag over your shoulder, still incredibly shorter than him.

"than-thank you," he smiled. "i'm happy to hear that you're actually getting something out of the lessons," you began walking out of the classroom, looking back to ensure that he was following you.

"yes, i truly do," you agreed. "i'm also pretty sure i'm one of the other people who isn't auditing the class," you added.

"correct, you are," he enthusiastically gestured, another laugh leaving your beautiful lips.

"i mean, you can't necessarily blame them for just taking the class," you chuckled as he held the door open for you, you gave him a subtle 'thank you.'

"what do you mean?" he asked in a soft tone.

"i mean you- you're..." you trailed off, gesturing to his entire body in hopes to convey what you meant. he just looked at you with a confused taste, letting you know you needed to elaborate. "you're very... attractive, professor reid."

"oh-that's very... thank you," he blushed as you halted by the bus stop.

"of course," you turned around, looking up to meet his eyes. "so... wait, what time is it?" you asked rather frantically.

"it's," he looked at his silver watch adorning his wrist, "6:27."

"shit," you swore for the first time in front of him, underneath your breath.

"wha-what is it?" he asked, perplexed as to why you would be so frustrated.

"the last bus leaves at 6:15 and i've missed it," you huffed out, trying to compose yourself before checking your bag and realizing, "i forgot my key and my roommate is at her girlfriend's house."

"is there anything i could do?" he asked concerned.

"no i can... i can just stay at the library. i should probably study up anyway," you tried to laugh it off although you knew it was pointless... he was a profiler for christ's sake.

"the library? y/n, this might seem a bit inappropriate but i have a spare room you could stay in until your roommate gets back," he offered kindly.

so, you took him up on his offer.

you slept in his spare room after he got you both takeout. you laughed and talked for what seemed like meer minutes but turned out to be until 1 a.m. you talked about string theory and the leonard euler's paradox. he gave you interesting facts about tortoises and achilles.

that little hangout session turned into countless hangouts over the span of three months. and then he asked you out on a real date once you finished at the top of his class - and not just because you were his favorite.

the first time with spencer was... beyond delightful. he was captivating with the way he worked against and for your body. it was almost as if he felt like his sole purpose on earth was to please you. he was eager, yet patient with the way his tongue flicked and sucked at your skin.

he was such a dominant personality in the bedroom, which was extremely appreciated since you didn't have much experience in that arena. but now that you were more versed in that world, you wanted to experiment a bit more.

casually, he began to pay for your things. it wasn't so head-on at first. it would be paying for your groceries, or buying all of your college books for you. but then it got a bit bigger. when your roommate couldn't give you the necessary half of the rent that was due and was beginning to be a nuisance, spencer quite literally let you move into his place. he would pay for your car's repairs and bought you jewelry consistently.

one time, as a joke, you called him your sugar daddy - mostly because that's how he acted. he just didn't like the term. he felt as though it made your relationship together seem one-sided when you were, in fact, very in love with the man. you came to realize it also made you seem like a gold digger, which you weren't - even though the money is a nice plus. so, you relented and didn't say that again.

spencer never really had much time off now that he was working back at the bau and traveling but now, you had him to yourself for a whole week. you had been planning this since he told you when he'd be off.

step 1: look sexy - you always looked sexy to him, but feeling sexy would also be a plus.

step 2: surprise him while looking sexy - absolutely devious.

step 3: seduce him - when doesn't he want you? exactly.

it was foolproof.

you had gotten the text 15 minutes ago that spencer was on his way back to his place, wanting you to meet him there once he had settled in. little did he know that you were in a sexy little white number - the white reminded him of your innocence which really got him going - lying in wait for him in a pair of heels. you sat in one of his reading chairs, deciding to pick up a book until he got home.

when you heard the jingling of keys coming from the other side of the door, you assumed your position. the chair was turned toward the door, you sitting pretty with one leg crossed over the other.

spencer walked through the door, hanging his coat and briefcase up before finally noticing you. his eyebrows shot up, looking your body up and down hungrily.

"wow," he smiled a wicked grin as he slowly made his way to where you were sitting. you stood up, heels clicking as they hit the floor and walked closer to him.

"i wanna try something," you placed your hands on his chest, pushing him back slightly until he was forced to sit down on the couch.

"and what would that be, princess?" he asked, hands stroking your hair that was cascading down your back.

"i..." you bent down to whisper in his ear, "i want to be in charge tonight," you placed a soft kiss below his earlobe, feeling his body shudder subtly at the proposition.

"are you sure you can handle that?" he chuckled, hands roaming to your waist and grinding your hips down on his.

you almost gave up. almost. you grasped his hands, placing them on the arm of the couch before getting close to his face. your lips were almost touching before you whispered, "no touching today, pretty boy."

you felt his hips rut up against your core, you chuckled at his eagerness. you decided to throw him a bone and ground down, hard, against his hips. the groan he let out was low and enticing, nearly enough to allow you to give him whatever he wanted.

"bedroom," you whispered against his neck before getting off of his lap, allowing him to scurry to the room. "take off your clothes while you're at it!" you giggled under your breath as you heard his clothes shuffling, telling you that he was obeying your request.

you waited a couple of minutes until you went into the room, wanting to have him go a bit insane like he normally did to you. when you walked in, he was laying on his back on the bed, just like you wanted. his cock was already red and leaky, prominent as it bounced on his tummy.

"good boy, spence," you giggled, walking over to him and straddling his legs.

once you were settled, you pressed a chaste kiss to his lips before trailing them down his torso, leaving the occasional hickey scattered on his chest. traveling kisses down his happy trail, you traced the vein on his dick and watched it twitch up and hit his stomach once again you giggled at the reaction.

"now i understand why you like so much responsiveness," you chuckled as you pressed a soft, barely-there kiss to the tip of his cock, he hissed once again from the contact.

you slowly took his cock in your mouth, agonizingly slow, and flattened your tongue at the base. one you got him as far down you could manage, you began bobbing your head just as slow. his hands flew to your hair, trying to force you to go faster until you swatted them away.

"should i tie those up?" you threatened, your hand working at his member as you spoke.

"are you fucking kidding me?" he swore, clearly agitated by your antics.

"no," you squeezed his dick for punctuation, the way he grunted made the wetness pool in your underwear. "i'm not kidding you."

you took him in your mouth once more, bobbing your head far more vigorously than before this time, just to spite him. hollowing your cheeks, you swallowed around him and began gagging around his dick before coming back up for air.

"fuck," he whispered underneath his breath, not wanting to let you know just how much of an effect you had on him.

you smiled to yourself and continued your antics until he was spilling all down your throat. you didn't stop there, you came back up and let your hand continue pumping his member slowly.

"shit," he hissed from the stimulation.

"shhh," you put your free finger up to his lips.

you gave his dick a few more strokes, curses leaving his lips delightfully before you drew your hands up his body once more before straddling his lap. after moving your panties to the side and slicking his cock with your arousal, you ground against him leisurely, trying to tease him a bit more. you unclasped your bra, throwing it somewhere in the room. finally, you reached between the two of you and lined him up with your entrance.

"are you sure you can do this?" spencer asked, not to entice you, but to make sure you were alright.

"there's a first for everything," you chuckled, knowing you had never been on top before.

you had never been on top before - you'd like to blame your lack of experience. you knew it might be hard to keep up the pace, but you were determined to make not only yourself but also make spencer feel good. that's all you've ever wanted. that's what you're meant to do - make him feel good. so no matter what it took, you'd make it happen.

you slowly lowered yourself onto his dick, being wary of how much bigger he felt from the new angle.

"shit," you whispered, your hands resting on his chest in attempt to ground yourself. "oh god..." you trailed off, feeling your dominant personality fade away as the pleasure overtook you.

"keep going, princess," he spurred you on, his hands finding your waist and rubbing gentle circles on your skin. "you've got it."

so you rose on your knees until only his tip was inside of you for you to lower yourself once more. you whimpered from the feeling of him re-entering your body, your pussy clenching around him as if he were an intruder.

"doing so good for me," he grasped your waist a bit tighter so he could help you rise and fall on his cock. "fuck, it's so good."

"d-doctor, i-" you stuttered, the persona nearly entirely gone and nowhere to be seen as he continued to move you up and down.

when you learn forward, your face hovering over spencer's chest, he took the opportunity to wrap his arms entirely around your waist. before you knew it, he was slamming his length into your pussy over and over and over and over again.

"oh! oh my god," you moaned, your voice reaching a higher octave as he drilled into your body in the most pleasurable way imaginable. "don't stop! don't stop! ple-please!" you screamed out, your hands wrapping around his torso and squeezing his body to ensure that he was there - present.

"i won't, princess. just let go. let go for me," he pressed a kiss to the top of your head so sweetly in contrast to how he was fucking you.

"i'm cumming! oh god, i'm cumming, spencer!" you cried out as you released the tension from inside of you.

only spencer wasn't done yet, so he took himself out of you, and he placed you on your back before reentering you. he moved in and out of you at a godly pace, trying to get himself to his climax before you would become too overwhelmed from the overstimulation.

"spen- spencer," you scratched at his back, surely leaving red marks for him to ogle once you were through. "i-i'm close," you sucked lightly at his earlobe before he moved his hand between the two of you, circling the little bundle of nerves at your crest.

"my little insatiable bunny, huh?" he smiled as you whimpered into his ear, nearing your second release. "loves my cock a bit too much, huh?"

"please! fuck!" you shouted out as you came on his dick, pulling at his hair. the clenching and fluttering of your pussy finally sending him over the edge, his hot release flooding your insides.

"fuck," he groaned into your ear as he carried the two of you through your releases. "good job, princess," he pressed a kiss to your neck as you stroked his hair, playing with it as you were still coming down.

"i'm sorry," you frowned once he pulled out, finally making eye contact as he lay down beside you.

"what for?" he asked incredulously.

"i just... i wanted to make you proud and i couldn't even finish without your help," you explained in a whiney manner, not allowing yourself to meet his beautiful eyes.

"hey," he grasped your chin to force you to make eye contact. "i love it when i have to help you reach that high. that's not something to be embarrassed or upset about."

"i know but i wanted to ride you and i couldn't even do that," you rolled your eyes.

"it takes time to get used to doing that," he chuckled. "and besides, riding someone on the bed is never a good way to begin. the couch is always better - that way you have the back of it to hold onto."

"really? so it's not that i'm just terrible at being a top?" your eyes widened with hope, he smiled at your eagerness.

"i think you could be a switch but it needs a bit of work, my love," he brushed your hair behind your ear before seeing your disappointed gaze and adding, "but i'll bet that with enough practice i could start calling you my little bunny, yea?"

"really?" you perked up at the proposition. "i want you to call me that."

"well then, i guess we better start practicing," he grinned before leaning in and giving you a sloppy kiss, his hands flying to your waist as he stood the both of you up to go to the couch.

needless to say, with spencer's guidance you were able to master the art of riding him. and you got that special little nickname, too.

taglist:

@averyhotchner

@greenprisca

@muffin-cup

@emilyprentisslittlewhore​

@spenxerslut​

if you’d like to be added to the taglist, please don’t hesitate to message me or leave a comment saying so!

[ootahime]

analyzing every gojohime moment in the manga >:) pt. 3

more and more paragraphs ahead.  BE PREPARED!

i’m also writing this at 3 am so please bear with the horrendous grammar and punctuation.

chapter 63

i know he’s probably like this with everyone but i love how excited he is bragging about his students to her.  he’s like a child telling his mother about an amazing adventure he had with his friends, making sure he mentions every detail.  in the anime, their conversation lasted for 3:41 :3 backwards 341 is 143 which means i love you.  

1 letter = i

4 letters = love

3 letters = you

chapter 63

i love her fit!  i also like how both of them like to wear baggy clothing that accentuates their collarbones `w` it’s like they’re matching in a way.  even if she did tell him to cut the crap, she still let him run his mouth to his content LOL i feel like if he didn’t compliment himself at the end, she would have said something different.  UGH HE LOOKS SO HAPPY CALLING HER

 ah, let me translate the conversation just in case anyone needs it.

utahime: you wanted to talk about the investigation, right?

gojo: well, got any idea who?

utahime: i have no idea.  no one seems suspicious.  what do we do now?  should we ask the students for help?

gojo: yeah, that’s fine.  i’m busy so asking the kids would be okay.  keep looking.  i’m counting on you.

I THINK THAT’S WHAT THEY’RE TRYING TO SAY.

OR it could mean that she’s asking if they should start investigating the students.  it would make sense either way because gojo says in the next panel that he doesn’t want to assume that the mole is a student, and in chapter 79, gojo sends the trio to utahime to help her.  

chapter 63

these two love their students to death.  neither of them wanted to assume that the mole was a student.  in chapter 79, when utahime is talking to the trio about the mole, nobara points out to the group that the traitor must be from kyoto because utahime is the one who’s reaching out to the tokyo side.  utahime has a dismal look on her face, almost like she’s saying, “i didn’t want it to turn out this way -- for this to be true.”  after mechamaru says his farewells to miwa on the train, mai tries to talk about what he did to which utahime says, “it doesn’t matter, he’s dead, after all,” with a similar sunken expression.  i just love how her care for the students is one of the biggest aspects of her personality that’s been showcased so far.  it’s also cool how it ties together with gojo’s belief that no child’s youth should be taken away.  i truly think these two have the capacity to understand each other to a deep level, down to the core.  seeing as utahime is also a teacher, it’s safe to assume that she also wants to raise the next generation of sorcerers to be strong.  utahime and gojo’s similarities and contrasting elements are so interwined, i really wonder if it’s intentional.  like am i looking too much into this?  are utahime and gojo really meant to be this connected?  think about it.  similar motivations, care of the kids, contrasting palettes, the bickering, long history.  IT’S JUST TOO MUCH. 

also can we mention how their phone calls and meetings must be heavily planned out?  this means they’ve talked and interacted with each other A LOT behind the scenes.  she doesn’t answer his call with “what do you want?  don’t bother me on my day off.”  she knows exactly why he’s calling her and they even speak in code.  she probably meets up with him and tells him to call her on a specific day and at a specific time.  they must know each other’s schedules very well in order to execute this investigation in complete secrecy.  when he says, “we can never be too sure who is listening in around utahime” it implies that they find calling a risk, so in order to guarantee that there is no one around, they have to meet up in person.  see where i’m getting at?  they talk A LOTTT and most likely are aware of each other’s daily lives.  

the fact that gojo is her main source of stress when he’s literally a 3 hour train ride away from her is hilarious LMAOOOO.  you know what that means, right?  he must call and text her constantly about random things to annoy her.  

chapter 65

ah yes, my favorite moment by far.  look at that smile on his face.  

chapter 65

he loves saying her name.  he probably rushed over with the sole purpose of doing something like this to her LMAOOOO like i mean, mei was in there with her so technically they both needed to be helped but judging from his words and expression, he only wanted to help utahime.  notice how mei’s not there in the debris.  could she possibly have suspected gojo’s presence or an outside force?  or was she fast enough to avoid being in the debris?  either way, her lack of presence in this scene helps highlight the fact that this is a special interaction between utahime and gojo.  he refers to her in a very familiar sense.  the most formal way to address someone is by their last name followed by the honorific, -san.  in gojo’s case, he should be calling her iori-san if they weren’t acquainted.  he doesn’t even bother to call her utahime-senpai.  granted, gojo is not the most respectful and socially competent person out there because geto points this out to him.  he isn’t even aware that she finds him annoying because he views her bad attitude toward him as her just playing along with him.  he probably thinks she’s flirting back LOLOL

since he asks her “you cryin?” that definitely means that gojo witnessed her crying on one occasion or maybe multiple.  who knows, the old utahime could have been a very emotional person.  while this is happening, mei is close to gojo, she then asks him if he would console her if she were to cry in a flirtatious manner.  gojo dismisses her attempt at flirting with him and says she won’t cry because she’s strong.  now normally, you’re supposed to face the person you’re talking to, GOJO.  he KEEPS his eyes on her even when more people come to join the conversation.  

now, we can all agree that geto, mei, and shoko are better at picking up social cues than gojo.  they probably knew the vibe of the conversation and decided to play along with gojo’s antics.  

chapter 65

WE were worried about you.

pay attention to the order of the characters that show up.  gojo makes his appearance first, then geto, followed by shoko.  based on utahime’s reaction to seeing shoko, it’s evident that these two share a close bond.  shouldn’t shoko be the one to arrive on the scene first?  she’s the closest to utahime and would therefore be more concerned about her condition, right?  i know shoko’s technique doesn’t really allow her to do anything other than treat the wounds of others, but if you heard your friend was missing, you would definitely rush to the scene.  

look at geto’s reaction when mei says, “you’re the one who’s picking on her, geto.  you don’t even know it.”  i think it’s mei who’s saying this because gojo calls geto “suguru”.  but anyway, mei is aware that they’re picking on her.  i don’t think she’s the type to legitimately bully someone for their strength.  her reaction to all of this is very playful and her “heh heh heh” is proof of that.  when geto shows up and swallows the curse before it gets to utahime, he says, “satoru.  it’s not nice to pick on the weak.”  by saying this, he pisses utahime off because he too, is joining in on gojo’s joke.  i believe he’s unaware that he’s making fun of utahime because his reaction is “gah!” with a sweatdrop.  he probably thought gojo was making fun of weak people in general.  

geto’s usually a gentleman seeing as it is canon that he is more popular with girls than gojo.  BUT WHO KNOWS...you gotta be a specific type of person to be best friends with gojo.  maybe he ain’t shit too...  okay, my point is that everyone is just playing along.  when shoko shows up, utahime is relieved to see her because shoko doesn’t tease her like this.  since utahime tells shoko to not become like those two, this implies that geto teases her as well (probably not as much as gojo).  we all know geto is really big on looking out for the weak so he probably wouldn’t have insulted her for real.  

verdict: utahime being weak is just a joke.  i’ve mentioned this so many times, sorry if it’s getting annoying and repetitive hehehehehe...

chapter 65

these three aren’t irresponsible.  geto and gojo are a troublesome duo for sure, but they’re dependable.  seems unlike them to forget something so simple and essential to pretty much every mission.   

chapter 65

here’s my headcanon.  they were hanging outside or in the car when their assistant manager got a call.  the assistant was informed that two days have elapsed since mei and utahime went on their mission (or last contacted someone).  

gojo: that’s weird.  mei’s with her so they should have finished exorcising the spirit sooner.

geto: you think something happened to them?  maybe it’s a strong special grade.

gojo: utahime probably dragged mei down with her.  poor mei-san~  

gojo gets up 

geto: where are you going?  

gojo: going to save utahime!  it’s fine i’ll put up a curtain!

manager: gojo wait!!!!!!!!!!!

geto sighs

shoko: that idiot’s always running off without us.

they pin the blame on gojo for saying that he’ll put up a curtain and leaving the assistant manager behind.  you know what this means?  he ran and the manager couldn’t catch up HEHE... why the rush, gojo?  were you actually concerned about her?  

tbh i don’t see gojo ever running to something unless it’s urgent.  the fact that he ran to save her says a lot.  

----

let me know if you have any thoughts or questions!  i forgot to add this but gojo had a more serious expression when he was explaining how they must’ve been trapped in a barrier that messes with time.  he then states, “we thought it was weird even though you’re here, mei.”  i know he was probably worried sick because if mei couldn’t be contacted then that means something must’ve happened to utahime too.  okay that’s it for now.  i’ll be bringing up this little detail i’ve noticed about utahime in the manga next :3

[nextdoorharry]

imaaaaagine a world like that..can you?

-

in which you and harry are exes, but still remain good friends when you’re always there for each other. both of you can’t help but reminisce…in your head.

a/n: super sorry i haven’t written in FOREVER!! been crazy busy with school (still am) and i will get back to the writing grind when i’m not as busy, with that being said this is just a quick thing i was thinking of. also, no hate to olivia and harry’s relationship at all. pr or not, both deserve respect and anything written in this piece is solely for writing purposes only. no hate will be tolerated toward an individual. we’re all human.

-

it happened when you were on your way home from dinner with your friends. a call from harry. this wasn’t out of the ordinary for harry to call you, being exes and all. you both apologized after the breakup and agreed that you both couldn’t let 5 years of love, being close with each other’s families, and a pet cat all go to waste. you agreed upon being friends with him. still hang out here and there after the breakup, acting all platonic. you can’t help but have a glimmer of hope its a call wanting to start a relationship again.

“hello?” you said, one hand on the wheel, other holding your phone.

“hi love, sorry s’a bit late, was wondering if i can come over. it’s about olivia.” harry says. still sending you butterflies when he said the simple yet warming term of endearment. but once he said olivia, your heart dropped.

she’s beautiful, confident, and makes your harry happy from what the tabloids portray. the last time you and harry spoke was before he went off to LA, filming for don’t worry darling, a movie his new lover produced. still a few texts since then like “happy birthday!” “congrats on the grammy,” or “how’s the cat?” you two always saved catching up for in person. it was just your thing you kept during the 5 year relationship and after. it keeps things more meaningful at the time, rather than texting or quick phone calls.

“ah, olivia. isn’t she my replacement?” you teased while laughing. you hear a burst of giggles from the other end of the line. god you missed hearing that everyday.

harry on the other end of the line, heart aches a bit hearing you say that. no one could ever replace you. ever. you are so special to him. if only it wasn’t for his team making it difficult for him to ease down on touring for a bit for you. you asked for one thing from harry, which was to start settling down. you both were only getting older and the talks of marriage and kids were frequently becoming the topic of discussion with family. a year and some after the breakup, which happened to be during quarantine, where he had so much time on his hands without you, he reflected on what could’ve been and how stupid he was for letting you go. you were always so patient with him. going to his shows, god awful dinner parties with industry people, changing your work schedule just to fit into his. you asked for one thing. and instead of fighting for you with his team, he instead sided with them, and let you go.

teasing not dying down, harry goes, “someone keeps up with me in the tabloids, eh?”

it’s the fact that he’s not wrong. you remember that tabloid very well. when the first pictures of harry and olivia came out in an article titled, “harry styles and olivia wilde new romance? is y/n replaced?”

your heart was hurting.

“of course i am. keep having to make sure my name is finally out their mouths.” you joke. “i’ll be home in about 15 minutes if that’s okay?”

-

you pull into the driveway already seeing harry sitting on your porch chair. he waves at you and you get out of the car, walking up to him. he stands up and greets you with a bear hug.

“missed you, y’look nice. where’d ya head out to?” he asked, hoping and praying you weren’t out on a date looking like that. he knows you only wear a red lip when its date night. his mind filled with jealousy at the thought of you with someone else. whereas he has no right being there are pictures of him kissing, cuddling, and whispering to olivia on a yacht in italy. all for the cameras. his stomach turns. that was supposed to be you and him. on a yacht on italy. except leaving the display of affection for the bedroom.

“on a date” you say blatantly.

his heart drops. and lets you go from the hug. lying through his teeth he says, “ah really? happy for ya, you have to tell me about it, hope it was with a good bloke.” he says lightly.

“i’m kiddingg, was out for dinner with friends. mel got engaged by the way! was celebratory dinner for her.” you say, unlocking the door, letting harry in.

harry sighs in relief. “that’s good! m’happy for her, pass on my congratulations.” harry follows you into your kitchen, sitting down on the counter stool, watching you making his favorite “calm down” drink, loving that you remembered how he likes it. he didn’t even have to ask you to make it. you just know its what he needs right now. he can’t help but ponder that it should have been you. it should be your friends out for your celebratory dinner for your engagement with him.

you pass him his tea, knowing he’ll only take a few sips of it yet keep it in his hold for warmth. you were on the other side of the counter across from him, making a mini cheeseboard you two can snack on while talking.

“so..what happened?” you ask, heart not ready if you can handle what he’s about to say about his new lover.

“s’just so complicated. originally it was supposed to be a pr stunt for the movie. but now i don’t know how the pr team messed up so badly but they did. no one is really believing it. everything was executed poorly. it sucks because it’s her team conducting everything which means i barely have a say in it. i look like the bad guy being portrayed as a home wrecker, and she’s not doing anything about it! s’like she’s enjoying it. the kissing, the night outs, etc. she knows that if my team did have a say, it would have been over a while ago.” he breathes out. he’s been wanting to rant to someone for so long about this. he also just wants you to know that he’s not into her. it’s all for show. he’s still all about you. he wants to make that crystal clear.

you nod your head listening to everything he’s saying. body feeling uneasy filled with jealousy when harry says she’s enjoying the intimacy they have to do for show.

“well, did you talk to her about it? or talk to jeff at least? there has to be something he can do..?” you ask.

harry sighs, “i’ve tried so hard. jeff said nothing they can do about it. and he’s telling me not to mess with olivia because her team can do more damage than good with my name. not that s’already ruined.” harry rubs his face with his hands, feeling stressed.

the way he’s acting is familiar to you. early on in your relationship, when you two were a freshly new couple, you guys wanted to be completely private. during that time, with harry and the band’s album coming out, his management made him do pr stunts like these. he was as stressed as he is now. you were so new to dating something in an industry. he didn’t want to scare you away. but you understood. you get it. and you still get it as he’s speaking.

“hmm..if i can recall, back when you had to do a stunt with kendall on the yacht, m’pretty sure it was the same situation. with kendall’s team being difficult, your’s not having much of a say. do what i told you back then, stand your ground, harry. tell olivia like you did with kendall. also kendall’s team at the time played dirty, yet they still were understanding with you and got someone new for a stunt. olivia’s team will probably get someone new as well. and how badly can they ruin your rep? everyone knows you’re the nicest person who wouldn’t kill a fly. and tabloids are tabloids. would you rather have a few bad headlines about you or would you rather deal with a stunt for what? another year now? that you feel uncomfortable with?” you state. smiling a bit because you know harry knows your right, he’s smiling a bit too. he knows you love being right and debating, pulling out facts. that’s what you always did during an argument. which is why you were always right.

man. why couldn’t he stand his ground with his team. why didn’t he take your advice back then? he should’ve sided with you. not his team. why is he always so scared of them?

self-loathing, harry breathes out a laugh, “always have to be right don’t ya? you know what to say every damn time,”

“what can i say? the lady is always right.” you say, smiling proudly while cleaning up the remains of the cheeseboard you and harry snacked on.

“thanks y/n, really, i know i can always come to you with this stuff,” harry states. looking at you with his piercing eyes, meaning every word he said.

you smiled and nodded, cleaning the kitchen a bit. it started to pour early on when you guys were having a chat about his situation, hoping silently it would come down faster so harry has an excuse to stay, you offer nonetheless. “why don’t you stay back for a bit, hm? s’pouring out there, only gonna get worse. we can watch something?”

“love island?” harry suggests.

“thought you’d never ask.”

-

few gasps and scoffs at some of the islanders and their drama later, you slowly were drifted off to sleep. harry, sitting on the other sofa from you, peaks to see if you’re still watching. his face was in awe. he misses this. domestic nights with you, chatting away eating in the kitchen, then watching something afterwards. only difference is that you two are on different sofas. whereas before you’d be coddled under his embrace. he slowly drifts off to sleep as well. rain still going on, technically he can still go home. driving in the rain was never an issue for him. but he’ll always use an excuse just to be with you.

-

iMessage: Olivia Wilde

1:34 AM - I miss you, and our casual hookups. Can’t stop thinking about it.

that was one part harry left out of the story. he hooked up with her.

-

ahhhhh!!!! lmk if you guys want a part 2!!!

[anxious2dsimp]

General Dating Headcanons | Sero, Todoroki & Bakugou

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡*✧･ﾟ:˚۰˚☽˚｡･:

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡*✧･ﾟ:˚۰˚☽˚｡･:

Pairings: Sero x Reader, Todoroki x Reader, Bakugou x Reader

Reader: Gender Neutral!

Format: Headcanons​

Warnings: Cursing bc Bakugou ���� (as if I wasn’t the one who picked him lmao)

Request: :))) hellooooo :D hmmmm may i get general dating headcanons for sero, todoroki, and [insert your favorite character]? 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖 @smexy-goose

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡*✧･ﾟ:˚۰˚☽˚｡･:

Hi again!! Omg yes, I’ll gladly write some hcs for the best bois! I had a hard time picking a fave, but since I have written for Kami and Kiri in the last request I decided to go with blasty boy❤️ (Also, I’m trying a new way to post requests, I hope it works!)

Sero Hanta

I feel like Sero is genuinely so fun to date, just like he said in that one dorm episode, he’s always the wild card.

He’s a goofball, so he adores making you laugh and smile as much as he can. I love him omg😭

Will definitely take advantage of his height (he’s among the taller ones in the class) and give you surprise hugs from behind and rest his head on yours.

He’ll also use his quirk on you for everything from pranks to just randomly pulling you to him to give you a quick peck or a hug :’)

He’s pretty standard with PDA, so he won’t go around making out with you in public but he will do little gestures like those <3

In private I feel like he’s definitely cuddly, he’s just so happy to be with you!

He loves having you over at his room to just chill or be in each other’s presence, even if you’re doing stuff individually.

Speaking of, the bakusquad definitely complains about you having privilege in using the hammock in Hanta’s room. 

Denki will whine like; “why does y/n always get to use the hammock? You said it was out of bounds!”

“That’s on pretty privilege, sorry! And you’re just jealous you don’t have a cool s/o like mine,” Sero will say and poke his tongue out from the hammock where you’re swinging togehter :’) 

I’m warning you now, if you had a healthy sleep schedule before going out with him, you can kiss it goodbye.

Sero will absolutely be up till like 3 am sending you memes and tiktoks that remind him of you.

And with him blowing up your phone you’ll most likely end up talking into ungodly hours of the night, the *sleep deprivation* only causing funnier conversations.

Those will end up becoming inside jokes that he’ll bring up to make you laugh while the rest of the class is like ???

That also results in some weird ass nicknames sorry not sorry

So he’ll sometimes call you regular stuff like babe and other times... he’ll call you things like “Bert” (FOR NO REASON??) or “Candied Blood Pumping Organ” instead of sweetheart lmao

Overall you two are just THE chaotic couple (and if you’re not generally that way he will bring out that side of you)

Pranking your classmates? Pranking each other? Random ass adventures? Trying weird food together? Dancing in the kitchen at midnight while sharing late night snacks? By going out with him you said yes to all of the above.

From sneaking out of the dorms for late night food runs to occasionally skipping class to go to the arcade or the beach, you usually can’t go a week without doing something fun togehter.

This one time you two were out with the Bakusquad and y’all stopped by a supermarket to get food. 

So you had to ask Bakugou to buy you something bc you and Sero had to stay outside and just hand him the money.

He was like “tf?? why? Just buy your shit yourselves!” You had to explain you two were banned from the store because Hanta had accidentally crashed a cart he was driving you around in into a display of cereal boxes.

Ah yes, good times.

Todoroki Shoto

I feel like he’ll definitely need a small push when it comes to relationships bc of his past, but once you’re with him he’ll care deeply about you and will try to make you as happy as you make him :’)

I’m begging you, please give this boy some luv and affection!! For the most part you’d probably initiate PDA because he’s too nervous to do it himself

At the beginning he wouldn’t even be comfy cuddling, solely because he’d be afraid of hurting you somehow :(

But once you’ve reassured him he complies, and from then on out you just have to open your arms and he’ll instantly know it’s *cuddle time*

It’a one of his favorite pastimes bc he just feels so safe and loved <3 he also just loves the feeling of you playing with his hair

Luckily you get to do it year round since you cuddle his hot side in the winter and cold side during the summer

I feel like he’s secretly insecure, so the fact that you trust him and love him for who he is makes him feel like he could melt <3

Because of that you’re the only one he truly opens up to and shows his real feelings to, not to mention the only one who can touch his scar

And though he isn’t great with words, one look at him during one of these personal moments when its just you two, and you can just see it in his eyes.

Especially if you kiss his scar, his eyes might even get teary this sweet boy I 😭

That’s also probably why he shares his precious cold soba with you

Since you’ve been together, Shoto has just been so much happier, so his siblings and mother LOVE you.

They’re constantly inviting you over for dinner when Endevour is working (bc he’s a huge buzzkill to say the least), and his mom adores when you come with Shoto to visit her :)

Todoroki really enjoys seeing you get along with the people he cares the most about...

 BUT what he hates is THE EMBARRASING STORIES HIS FAMILY TELLS YOU OMG (you live for them, but I wouldn’t tell him that if I were you)

“Fuyumi remember when Shoto-” “Natsuo, no💙“ your bf will say as he unconsciously squeezes your hand, both of the siblings laughing at Shoto’s glare.

You had to hold in your laughter so hard omg

Though he isn’t that talkative, you guys definitely have that kind of relationship where you two could be silent and still feel completely comfortable (oh I’m so jealous of that but nvm)

He’s definitely observant, so expect the most considerate gifts and the most assertive observations, he’ll always know what you need.

The type of observant that gives you a water bottle before you even notice you’re thristy during training, or switches sides while walking so you loop your arm with his on his warm side when you’re cold.

Also the type to gift you that one thing you really wanted but mentioned once like months ago along with your favorite snacks/drink (you best believe he has them all memorized bc he’s just that attentive)

Over all, just a really soothing relationship were you can be comfortable with each other and feel at home when you’re together.

Bakugou Katsuki

Ok so, I feel like you’d be a competitive couple, turning anything into a competition in an endearingly annoying way.

You’re definitely the type of couple to go to laser tag, an escape room, an arcade, etc, as dates >:) but the competitions don’t end there:

Who can plan the best date? Who can make the other blush first? Who can get the other the better gift? Who’s the better kisser? Who gets the higher score in class? Or wins at sparring?

Especially when it comes to productive stuff like training or academics, although he won’t admit it, he’s just pushing you to be your best because he knows how amazing you are :’)

All the bakusquad knows about your shenanigans and at this point they’ve learnt to stay out of it & go get the Advil just in case bless their souls lmao

I’m sorry but he definitely calls you nicknames that purposely piss you off (with no ill intentions ofc), like “gremlin”, “dumbass” or “booger”

I suggest you also call him stuff like that back, like “angry pom” or “blasty” to get on his nerves >:)

You guys also definitely friendly bicker all the time, knowing that you take it lightly (though strangers won’t, resulting in some hilariously awkward situations)

“You’re such a fucking idiot,” he’ll say rolling his eyes as he messes up your hair.

Just watch his smirk dissapears when you reply, “no, u❤️″ It gets on his nerves, I just know it.

So he’ll chase you around as you call each other random stuff. While the other people at the convenience store are just like  👁👄👁

He never means it tho, keep in mind if you’re dating the self proclaimed future no. 1 hero he thinks highly of you :)

So he’d definitely be protective while simultaneously showing you off <3

Will always greet you with a kiss and keep his hand on your back or waist so ppl know you’re with him

RIP anyone who tries to hurt or flirt with you, I say try bc Bakugou will be exploding them even before they get the chance😅

Denki’s definitely almost gotten his brows blown off his face bc of that lol

Speaking of, the bakusquad still can’t get over the fact that THE lord explosion murder has a soft spot for you,

You mean you take care of his injuries, scold him when he burns himself out, touch his hair, and hug him when his moody... and you DON’T get cussed out and blown up? Shooketh

However they don’t see what happens behind closed doors, & how you’ve helped him with all the trauma he has experienced

You’re the only one who he is vulnerable with, you’ve seen him cry and he tells you about his nightmares and fears

You do the same with him, and you promise each other to get through anything together, which you’ve done so far :’)

Bc of that his parents love you, and his mom’s always going on about how she’s so glad you “stand” his son😂

Why can’t he be real ughhh

[80s4life]

The Thought Of Losing You

Word Count: 2,507

Status: Not Requested!

Fandom: Lethal Weapon 1987 {1}

A/N: This follows sort of around the ending of the first Lethal Weapon film where both Riggs, Murtaugh, and Rianne were being tortured in separate ways. I know it sounds brutal, but trust me, it isn't that bad. AND! Happy ending! (Spent all night on this!)

Relationship: Martin Riggs x Reader

Summary: When a team is formed, Roger Murtaugh and Martin Riggs are solidified together once Y/N is added to the mix, squeezing in perfectly. Although very fiery and stubborn at heart, childish games and teasing became common place for sergeant Y/N and Martin, unable to let the other out-trash their own trash talk. But, when there is a complication during the final breakthrough of the whereabouts of the heroin-trafficking cartel, Y/N is separated from the duo. Only coming together when a kidnapping sends her in a desperate spiral trying to save the people she loves, especially Riggs.

Warnings: violent themes, kidnap, manipulation, torture, violence, language, attempted!self-surrender/suicide, 18+ audience suggested, read at own risk

Masterlist Lethal Weapon Masterlist

Prompts: #67, #68, #100 (from this list @palettes-and-prompts) & #6, #8, #17 (from this list @waiting-for-motivation)

{I do not own any of the prompts, credits to original owners above, nor do I own the gif below -> @leofromthedark}

Strolling around to the back of the supposed drug dealer's extravagant condo, Murtaugh, Riggs, and I engage in light conversation, silently noting and observing our surroundings. Stopping just near the edge of the rather expensive-looking below ground pool, Murtaugh and Riggs catch sight of two brunette women inside. Rolling my eyes, I expect Riggs to do something flirtatious, a painstakingly common reaction to almost every woman he lays eyes on. Every woman... except me. Yet, I pay no mind, Riggs' crazy nature probably too much for me to handle anyway.

Murtaugh flashes his gun, indicating to the women that he is armed. In a flash of a second, just merely after he had shown his weapon, the women duck and run from within the glass-paned wall, just in time for a man to blast a shot from behind. More specifically, the source being a shed occupying the space on the opposite side of the pool we resided on, destroying bits of its siding from the sheer distance and voracity of his attempt of subduing at least one of us.

But, we came prepared, although we were slightly taken aback, Murtaugh's swift abilities with a gun coming in handy as he lands on the drug dealer's right knee, lower thigh area. Splitting off, Murtaugh and I take either end of the pool's side, desperately trying to corral the person of interest. All the while as Riggs takes the women from in the house outside and to the nearest tree, in case of them being suspects as well, handcuffing their wrists together around the tree.

Once the task is done, Riggs hurries over to our aid, following our one, sole purpose: keeping the suspect alive for questioning.

Coming around the perimeter of the pool, Murtaugh reminds Riggs of this rule, replaying it to refresh his sometimes questionable mind. This, however, does not work in our favor as the man pulls yet another gun, this time a pistol, as Riggs had went to pull the man up.

"He's got a gun!" I scream, yet it's all in vain, as Riggs tries to act just as fast as his reflexes would've allowed, lifting the man's aimed arm as the trigger was pulled.

Yelping in surprise, I clench my teeth as the copper red liquid instantly encompasses the injured area, jerking as far away from the incident as possible.

"Y/N!" Murtaugh yells, instantly coming to my side as I go crashing to the concrete floor, catching my head and my left side as I now slowly lean into the ground below me, clutching the stinging injury to the right of my abdomen.

As Murtaugh had come to my side, Riggs took care of the suspect, unfortunately not being able to accomplish our sole purpose of being here, but overall getting rid of the threat.

"Cocksucker," he all but grunts, as he makes sure to shoot the man once more, pissed at the fact that I had gotten shot, although that fact being unbeknownst to me. "I'll call the ambulance," he all put spits out some time later, not making any attempt to check on my well being nor even making eye contact, stalking back through the side gate we had entered through.

//Some time later//

Now nestled safely and securely, I lay within the gloomy walls of the hospital, hooked up with some anesthetics and monitors, all for separate purposes. The stitches surely going to leave an awesome scar, only adding to my aggravation and exhaustion as the day finally settles and the slightest of movements constantly sending sharp pains within my whole body.

The doctors, coming in every so often, had reassured me of a discharge after the course of at least 2-4 days, only needing to ensure the proper sanitary measures are used and stitches being durable and strong without issues or tears.

Staring off at one of the four blank and colorless walls, in a daze, my ears perk up at the sound of a knock on my door, followed by Roger and Martin entering the room.

Handing me a bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates, I smile at Roger as he pulls a chair beside my bed, asking, "How ya' feeling, Shortie? How're they treatin' ya' here?"

Giggling at the nickname, I respond with an, "I'm doing just as good as I can I guess. It's not so bad here either. The nurses are nice, although they're all pitiful glances and meek gestures, coming in and out as quickly as possible. I guess bullet wounds aren't their preferred cases?" I joke lightly, trying to lighten the tension in the room.

Roger catches on instantly, having caught wind on Martin's rather uncharacteristically quiet sulking in the far corner of the room. Turning to look at him briefly, he all but shrugs at me as he comes up with no response or solution to his partner's unknown issue.

Checking the time, I make up an excuse, assuming Riggs just didn't want to be here maybe? "Damn, look at the time...It's almost 9 pm guys, don't wanna be late for Trish's cooking do ya'?"

"Shit, really? Come on Riggs, you know the ass whoopin' I'm gonna get? Let's go, minus well feed you too, huh?" Murtaugh says, getting his coat and squeezing my shoulder, giving me a sympathetic look that I swipe away quickly. Riggs just gets up, side-eyeing me once quickly, but above all, ignores my presence and leaves the room. With one final look from Rog, he shuts the door, leaving me to my boredom for the remainder of my stay.

//Some time later//

Having been discharged, Roger had caught me up on the recent news, and how they had left to finish the job a day before I had gotten out of the hospital, that being yesterday evening, and it now being a full 24 hours of no communication from them.

This had struck me as odd, given that they were very advanced in their fields. Finding the whereabouts was the last big hump of every mission, the rest supposedly coming easy. This had all changed as soon as I had stepped foot onto my front porch, a not left hanging slightly within the pocket of my mailbox.

The words shocking me to the core;

"Come to xxxxxxxxxx if you want to save your partners. 8 o'clock. Sharp."

Rushing to my car, I waste no time, pulling out of the driveway and to the given destination, the time being almost too close to the deadline as I preferred it to be.

Once outside of the destination, an old, run-down warehouse stands gloomily in front of me as I slip my gun into the waistband of my jeans. Another, tucked against my ankle within my boots.

I move quietly, staying alert as I enter the warehouse quietly, instantly hit with the cries of what could only belong to Riggs, my heart wrenching. A new feeling that I instantly push aside. Following the pained screams, inching closer to the source, I catch wind of yet another's set of booming cries as well, recognizing it as Murtaugh.

With this new set of knowledge, my heart does another painful flip, as the sheer terror now courses through my veins as if it was my blood. They were the toughest men I had ever known. At least that is how I had always felt, how I feel right now, but with their pained screams, it makes me feel utterly hopeless.

Drawing my gun, I aim it before me, right beside the wall I hide on, lining it up around the corner, my full intention at being able to at least shoot down one of the three men guarding one of my teammates; their identity unknown to me at the moment with the unfortunate dimness.

Taking the shot, I hit one man, the two now swinging to guard the area, looking my direction. The man held captured, Riggs, tied to the ceiling, consistently doused in water, making the homemade shock therapy increasingly unbearable with multiple relentless blows.

"Come out now, Little Rabbit, or I pull the trigger," a booming voice commands, me now peeking out from the corner to see none other than Mr. Joshua, the man we've been after, pressing a firm gun to Riggs' limp form.

Coming out from my hiding space, Joshua motions for his goons to grab me, now taking Riggs off the hook, and into another room. The room we are led to happens to be the room Murtaugh is in, his daughter beside him, both incarcerated and handcuffed. Moving Riggs to the chair beside the pair, he is tied down just as I am, the four of us now completely helpless.

Mr. Joshua, confident and prideful of his work, moves Riggs to the center of the room, starting his interrogation, answering with beatings and threats here and there. The cause: the information given by Hunsaker on his heroin-trafficking cartel.

Just as Joshua leaves yet another powerful blow, Riggs' strength starts to run low, just watching him making me squirm in my chair, wanting nothing but to take him in my arms and drag him as far away from here as possible.

"If you have to kill one of us, kill me. Take me instead, please? Just stop! Stop all of this now," I say breathlessly, doing anything in my will to get their hands off of Riggs.

"What would I want with someone as pathetic as you?" Mr. Joshua answers bitterly.

"Information. That's all you want right? You just want details about the business, you went through all this trouble, and for what? Just to kill us in the end? I know your type. You can't get off without getting what you want, and this would've all gone to waste without it," I respond, determined now.

"So, what do you want? To strike a deal?" I nod. "So, if I let them go, you'll give me what I want?" I nod again.

"Y/N no," Riggs says, now worried about what you're going up against.

"Shut it," Joshua states strictly.

"Y/N, listen to Riggs! You can't do this!" Murtaugh adds, now borderline terrified as everyone in this room is filled with the most important people in his life, all threatened with the only thing that could take them all away: death.

"SHUT IT!" Joshua all but screams now. "Fine. I'll take you up on your little deal. However, you fuck with me, I'm killing them."

"I don't agree with you unless you cut them loose right now, and I am assured that they are out of this building," I say confidently, yet shaking with fear.

He nods his agreement, showing a security camera view from one of his computers, watching as Rianne, Roger, and Martin are all led back outside, handcuffs removed, and all moved into my car, them pulling away from the warehouse.

Pulling the computer's view away from me now, he turns to me sharply, my gaze turning upward as my arms are still strapped behind my back, behind the chair. "Now," he starts, the voice strict like a parent beginning to question a toddler, "The information. What did Hunsaker tell you?"

Taking a breath in through my nose, I exhale through my mouth as I ponder my response, "Just as much as he's told you."

With this, Mr. Joshua lets out a scream, landing a punch to the jaw, my body leaning in on the stitches. Taking notice to my sharp intake of breath from the movement, Joshua uses that to his advantage, grabbing a knife, lifting my shirt, and pressing the cool metal along the line of handiwork. The only thing keeping my skin together at the moment.

"Let's try this again, what information did you receive from Hunsaker?"

"I told you. I. Don't. Know."

"Bullshit!" He digs into the skin, smirking at the cry of agony and shaking engulf my body.

"I-I don't know anymore than you do! Please! He was killed before we got anything from him!"

"Bullshit," he answers playfully now, dragging the blade of the knife wherever he pleases now, enjoying my pleads.

As he opens up my stitched bullet wound, he goes to start at another spot, the attempt being short-lived as a bullet wound of his own goes through his skull, the source standing in the doorway alongside Murtaugh with Rianne tucked under her father's arm.

Crying now, I sigh in relief as Riggs rushes to me, cutting me loose and lifting my limp body. Carrying me to the car, we make our way to the hospital once more.

During the wait and multiple switching of rooms, Riggs stays, waiting for me, only getting up once I emerge from the exit, patched up and clean. He smirks at me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders, leading me to Rog's car, taking us to the only place we find comfort; his house.

//Some time later//

Getting settled in at the Murtaugh residence, Riggs and I share Rianne's room, which was so generously offered as one of the youngest decide to have a sleepover with her.

Looking over at Riggs, he looks at me, covered in open cuts and bruises, dirt and grime, and, taking a first aid kit from Rianne's desk, I make it my priority to get them fixed up.

"What are you doing?" Riggs asks, tiredly amused.

"Taking care of you, it's the least I can do," I reply determined once again.

"Awww! Someone's got a little crush on me huh?"

"Hey! When I finish patching you up, I swear to God I'm gonna kick your ass for making me worry about you," I say jokingly. Riggs replying by grabbing me by the waist and pulling me closer.

Locking eyes on one another now, I couldn't help but joke once more, adding a sly, "Is this the moment that we kiss?"

Giggling, he looks down, placing his head on my chest, murmuring, "I think I'm in love with you and I don't know what to do. I mean, I've been married before, and I- I lost her and I don't wanna lose you too- I couldn't live if you go too, I-"

Grabbing his chin, I tilt his head upwards to meet my gaze, "Look at me, Riggs. Look at me. I love you."

Eyes watering, he leans in for a kiss, my hands finding way to his hair, while his pull my hips into his lap, wrapping lightly around them. After leaning back for air, we giggle once more, leaning our foreheads against one another.

"I never want to ever feel the fear of the thought of losing you again, okay? So don't be a dumbass, Dumbass."

"Yeah, yeah," Riggs answers once more, leaning in for another kiss.

[persephone-plasmids]

The Third Rail

Deacon X Sole fanfic

[AO3]

(Part 1 can be found here)

Deacon was sitting on a padded bar stool in The Third Rail, his fingers gingerly wrapped around a cold drink. He’d never really been a fan of tuxedos. He normally called them penguin suits, but he had to admit, he looked good in his current disguise.

His dark hair was slicked back and his trademark sunglasses protected him from any intimate interaction with the other bar patrons.

Even though Deacon kept his eyes trained on his drink, his ears were working overtime. Dez seemed positive that information about a kidnapped Synth would be discussed at the bar that night and she’d sent Deacon undercover to get as much intel as possible.

The tux had been his idea. He told Dez that his character was a wealthy trader who came to the Third Rail to unwind after a long day trading in chems and fancy hats. When Dez had pointed out that she just needed him to sit at a bar and listen for a few hours, he’d shushed her, insisting that his character was a vital part of the mission.

Sole had been sitting nearby in the Railroad HQ, her legs draped over the arms of a chair as she read an old tattered copy of Time Regained that Deacon had loaned her. She’d laughed at his insistence and when Dez had rolled her eyes and stomped away, Sole winked at Deacon.

The memory of this short interaction was enough to make his heart rate pick up a few paces. Not because it had been particularly special, but because it only reminded him that he and Sole shared something now. A special closeness. She’d kissed him, however briefly, one night after she single handedly killed a Deathclaw. Of course they hadn’t acknowledged it since then, which was just fine with Deacon. His feelings for Sole were already complicated enough. His best course of action would be to bury those feelings deep down and never examine them again.

He could do that… right?

Deacon tapped his thumb lightly against his glass, sighing deeply.

He didn’t want to bury the feelings down. He wanted to crush his lips against Sole’s and tell her how much he loved the way she laughed at his dumb jokes. He wanted her to know how much he loved the little dimples she got in her cheeks when she smiled. And he wanted her to know that he loved the way she believed almost any lie he told her and then got mad when she found out the truth.

He loved all of it.

But he couldn’t say that. So he took another drink and continued to bury those feelings deep down.

When Deacon felt two hands rest on his shoulders before sliding down the front of his chest, he jumped.

It wasn’t until a pair of lips brushed his ear lobe and a familiar voice said, “Fancy meeting you here,” that an involuntary smile broke across his face.

“What are you doing here, Charmer?” Deacon asked, tilting his head to face Sole with the ridiculous smile still in place.

He couldn’t help it. This was just the way his face looked around her.

“I’ve been looking for you all night, Darlin,” Sole said loudly with an exaggerated fake southern accent. “I trust your long hard day of selling chems and fancy hats hasn’t made you too tired for our date?”

Deacon couldn’t stop the smile from spreading even further across his cheeks. “I’m never too tired for you… Peaches.” Deacon had tried to think of the most ridiculous pet name he could think of. The fact that Sole almost broke character when she heard the name he’d come up with, told him he’d done a good job.

Swivelling around in his bar stool, Deacon finally got a proper look at Sole and had to work hard to keep his jaw from dropping. She wore a form-fitting red sequin dress that seemed to hug every curve of her body in a way that made his mouth go dry. She also wore a pair of sunglasses identical to Deacon’s, her crimson lips quirked up into a smile.

The last thing Deacon wanted to do was let Sole know just how incredible he thought she looked. He needed to maintain some semblance of dignity. Instead, he patted the bar stool beside him, and when Sole sat down, leaned over and said in an exaggerated whisper, “You’re wearing the same dress as Magnolia. That’s just embarrassing. One of you will have to change.”

“It’ll have to be her, Sugar. I’m having a drink with my man.” Sole kept the awful southern accent going and Deacon broke down in a fit of laughter that he stifled with his hand.

Sole was notoriously bad at accents. When she’d tried to do the Silver Shroud voice for him a few weeks back, he’d almost passed out from laughing so hard. She knew her bad accents were his weakness. She was doing this on purpose.

Another thing for him to add to the checklist of things he loved about her.

The checklist was quickly becoming its own novel.

“And remind me where you’ve been all day?” Deacon asked. He wanted to see just how much thought Sole had really put into this little ruse of hers.

“Why I’ve been off at the old Cabot place, basking in the refinement, of course,” Sole said.

Deacon shook his head before lowering his voice so that the other bar patrons wouldn’t over hear him. “Seriously though, what are you doing here?”

Sole leaned in conspiratorially, her grin full of mischief. “Dez didn’t trust that you were taking the job seriously after you came up with your whole… character.”

“So she sent you to babysit?” Deacon guessed. It wouldn’t be the first time.

At his question Sole looked down at Deacon’s drink and blushed. “I volunteered. Told her you might need some looking after.”

Sole had asked to come keep Deacon company? They hadn’t really been alone since she’d kissed him and he liked it that way. He didn’t need any more reasons to be head-over-heels for this girl. He was supposed to be past those kinds of attachments.

“And Dez didn’t think your character idea was childish?”

At this, Sole’s grin returned. “She didn’t know I was coming in costume.”

Deacon let a sly smile that matched Sole’s cross his lips. “So that’s the trick, is it? Be childish, but only when Dez isn’t looking?”

“It’s been working pretty well for me so far.”

“You just out-Deaconed me,” Deacon said. “I’m impressed, Charmer. You’ve even got the shades.”

At his words, Sole removed the sunglasses and sat them down on the bar in front of her. She rubbed the bridge of her nose gingerly.

“I know you swear by those things, but I just can’t get the hang of them. I don’t like that they add a barrier between me and the person I’m talking to,” Sole said. “It’s weird.”

“That’s exactly why I like them,” Deacon admitted, his sideways smile back.

Sole watched him with her lips pressed together in a hard line. Her eyes roamed across his face in a way that made him feel oddly vulnerable; even with the sunglasses on.

“You trying to use your x-ray vision over there?” Deacon joked. It was his default and the only way he knew to deal with an uncomfortable situation.

“Just trying to remember if I’ve ever actually seen you without the sunglasses on.”

“That’s a privilege you have to earn,” Deacon said.

At this, Sole perked up, her eyes alight with the challenge. “And how do I go about doing that?”

Deacon thought about this for a moment. What could ever make him feel comfortable taking his sunglasses off in front of Sole? Nothing came to mind. Because if she did see him, really see him, she might not like what she saw. That thought alone nearly killed Deacon. He wasn’t even sure he liked what he saw on the rare moments he allowed himself some brief introspection. But he was stuck with himself. Sole wasn’t. She could leave. And that was something he didn’t think he could bear.

It seemed better to keep her at arms length so he could continue to enjoy her company. He didn’t want to risk disappointing her. He didn’t think he could live with that.

“Don’t blow this mission for me and I’ll start to consider possibly thinking about maybe letting you see what’s behind the sunglasses,” Deacon said with a vague wave of his hand.

“Oh my! You’ll actually start to consider possibly maybe hypothetically letting me see you?” Sole repeated in an exaggerated tone. “How could I ever turn down a rock solid offer like that?”

“I don’t make the rules, sister. I just enforce them,” Deacon laughed, taking a long drink. “But if you could help me get some intel on this possible Synth kidnapping, Dez might actually respect me.”

“She respects you as an agent already. You know that,” Sole said, before grinning. “She just thinks you’re a hopeless man-child.”

“That’s Professor Hopeless Man-Child, thank you very much. I didn’t go to years of Peter Pan school to not be addressed by my full title.”

“Noted,” Sole said with a little salute in Deacon’s direction. “So, do we know who might have this possible intel?”

Deacon turned slightly in his chair and let his eyes roam over the patrons of The Third Rail. There were the regulars on the couch, holding their drinks while listening to Magnolia’s sultry voice with rapt attention. He gave a sidelong glance to the VIP room where he knew MacCready would be making deals with shady characters for caps. And then there were a few strangers he didn’t recognize sitting at the bar a few stools away from him and Sole. Those were the most likely sources of intel.

“I’d say we keep an eye on old no-nose and Danse over there,” Deacon said, nodding subtly in the direction of a ghoul and an uptight looking perfectly-groomed man.

Sole let a little giggle escape her lips as she turned away from the pair. “He totally does look like Danse,” she said, her eyes crinkling in the corners as she laughed.

Deacon tried not to notice.

He failed.

“Ad Victorium,” Sole mocked in her best Paladin Danse impression. It was just as awful as her southern accent.

“That old tin can is such a boy scout,” Deacon said, wanting nothing more than to make Sole laugh again. The sound made him happy. “But he’s good in a fire fight.”

“He’s actually really sweet,” Sole said. “And super helpful out in the field.”

Hearing Sole say nice things about Danse should have warmed Deacon’s heart. But instead he felt something ugly and unfamiliar spring up inside of him. Was it jealousy?

“Yeah, he’s great. If you get over the fact that he’s a raging bigot who hates synths,” Deacon said. His words sounded harsher than he’d meant for them to. He actually liked Danse a lot. But for some reason, he didn’t want Sole liking him too much.

“Hey, he’s still coming to terms with a lot right now,” Sole said. “Give him time. He’s a good person.”

Deacon nodded but didn’t answer. He didn’t like how much this conversation was bugging him. He wanted to pretend it was because of Danse’s less-than-stellar opinion of synths. But he knew the truth. Bigotry aside, Danse was a good guy. A wholesome guy. The kind of guy that probably reminded Sole of her late husband.

What was Deacon?

A liar. A man-child. Someone who couldn’t get close to people without devolving into a stand-up comedian for fear he might expose too much of himself.

Why would Sole want that when she could have the muscled boy scout with the badass scar over his eyebrow?

“Hey, are you okay?” Sole asked, placing her hand on Deacon’s arm and looking at him with a furrowed brow. “You kind of disappeared for a second.”

Deacon cleared his throat and adopted the fake smile that served as his everyday mask. “I’m good, boss. I was just listening for any intel we might hear.”

It wasn’t a great lie, but he hoped it was good enough to get Sole’s hand off of his arm. He couldn’t handle it when she touched him. Even like this. It gave him hope. And hope was dangerous.

The two sat in silence for a long time and when Sole did eventually move her hand away from Deacon’s arm, he hated its absence.

They watched the ghoul and the pretty boy drink their drinks in silence and Deacon began to wonder if they weren’t actually the people they’d been looking for. But when Deacon saw MacCready leave the red VIP room and walk up their stairs towards Goodneighbor, the ghoul and the pretty boy instantly stood up in unison and headed over to the now empty room.

“Bingo,” Deacon whispered. “They were waiting for somewhere more private.”

“This is so exciting,” Sole said, bouncing in her seat a little.

It was quite possibly the most adorable thing Deacon had ever seen in his entire life.

And that was including the time he’d seen a mutated bunny with four soft fuzzy ears hopping around the Wasteland.

“We need to get in that room,” Deacon whispered, standing from the bar stool and heading over to the VIP room.

He and Sole entered, but made sure to stand around the corner where the two conspirators wouldn’t be able to see them.

The ghoul and the pretty boy spoke in hushed tones, but Deacon was still able to make out the key points.

“Nuka World,” Sole whispered, looking up at Deacon who nodded.

That was it. That was where the Synth was being held. Dez would be over-the-moon with this intel.

Deacon only had a moment to revel in their victory, because without warning, he could hear the footsteps of the ghoul and the pretty boy heading towards them. They would have maybe two seconds before they saw Deacon and Sole standing there. And then what? They’d probably try to kill them without a second thought.

Deacon opened his mouth to try to tell Sole to run, but before he could, she pushed him up against the wall and crushed her lips against his.

The forcefulness of the kiss caught Deacon off guard, but it only took him a moment to understand her strategy. Just be a couple of Third Rail occupants looking for some privacy for a good time and no one would suspect they’d been spying on the conspirators.

Sole pressed her body against Deacon’s, her hands sliding inside of his tux jacket and around to his back. Her lips were soft, even as they moved forcefully against his. And even though he was tempted to close his eyes and give into the kiss, he kept one eye open to make sure they hadn’t drawn any suspicion from the pair they’d just been spying on.

Deacon watched as the two men eyeballed them for a moment before shaking their heads and leaving the VIP room without another thought.

They’d done it. They’d fooled them. And now they could stop kissing. But Sole didn’t seem keen on slowing down. That meant it would be Deacon’s responsibility to stop the kiss.

But did he really want to? Now that he had a good reason to kiss Sole that wouldn’t make him have an existential crisis?

Instead, Deacon placed his hands on Sole’s waist, squeezing her sides and pulling her against him. He could feel her smile under his lips and the expression only encouraged him. He ran one hand up her back, keeping the other low on her waist as he kissed her back passionately.

He never wanted this to stop.

The heat from Sole’s body mixed deliciously with his own and with every kiss, he felt himself fall for her even more.

After a moment, Sole finally slowed down their moment of passion and broke the kiss. Her lips were swollen and her cheeks were flushed, but her eyes were bright and full of life.

“Our targets left,” Deacon finally said after a moment, because he wasn’t sure what else to say. “I don’t think they suspected us… good thinking, boss.”

He knew he sounded breathless and frazzled and he hated himself for it.

Sole didn’t step back away from him. Instead she stayed leaned up against him with her hands resting on his back.

“Mission accomplished,” she whispered. He could feel her breath against his lips and it made him shiver. Being this close to Sole was like drinking clean cold water after wandering the Wasteland for days with no rest.

Deacon and Sole stared at each other for another moment, neither one willing to break contact. Deacon still had his hand low on Sole’s waist, and he moved his thumb over the bumpy sequins there.

“We should probably report back to Dez,” Deacon said after a minute. Something that looked like disappointment passed behind Sole’s eyes and he wondered briefly if she had wanted him to say something else. Something unrelated to the mission.

Had he wanted to say something else too?

“Good teamwork,” Sole said, standing up on her tiptoes and placing one last long, slow, soft kiss against Deacon’s lips.

The motion gave Deacon chills all over his body.

When she pulled away, she gave him a meaningful look. “I guess we should be getting back.”

Deacon nodded dumbly, unable to speak for a moment.

When Sole pulled away from Deacon, he felt her absence like a punch to the gut.

“Right behind you, boss,” Deacon said, watching as Sole headed towards the stairs that would lead to Goodneighbor.

He let her climb a few before he started to follow her. The truth was, he wasn’t sure he trusted himself to be too close to her right now. Not after the kiss they’d just shared. Because he knew he wanted more. And he knew he’d always want more.

But the worst part of it was, he almost thought that maybe Sole wanted more too. The look she’d given him had held some kind of meaning. But there was no way he was going to pursue that. If he was wrong, and Sole wasn’t sending him signals, he’d be devastated.

No. It was better to live a life wondering, than to throw away a good thing on a small possibility that his feelings were reciprocated. Sole was too good for him and he knew it. She probably knew it too.

But maybe she didn’t care. And maybe he shouldn’t either.

[Part 3]

-------------------------------------------------------

Based on this pic of my OC and Deacon being dorks together.

[justasparkwritings]

Troll In Luv: Part 2

Previous: Troll in Luv Pt. 1

Pairing: Park Jimin x Reader

Genre: Enemies to Lovers / Exes to Lovers; Non-Idol AU, Angst eventual Fluff

Rating: PG-17

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: Swearing, Making Out, Kissing

Summary: Your hand is forced, and the only way to come out on top is to reckon with your ex and apologize for past transgressions... er tweets.  

Note: This fic is dedicated to, written for, the incomparable @xjoonchildx​, who I have been lucky enough to be paired with. A major fan, this was an intimidating endeavor, and I’m kind of in love with what I’ve created for her. And if she hates it it’s totally trash... jk. mostly. 

This piece is for the #thebtswritersclub fic exchange!

Banner by me.

Tag List (is this how you do it no ones ever asked before): @unicornbabylover​

Thursday: Jimin’s Apartment

           Jimin hadn’t just moved on up, he’s leveled up completely. Gone were the Ikea pieces that he’d spent hours assembling, only to realize they’d given him the wrong part and he’d had to trek back to the store to rectify it. Gone were the plastic plates and cups he’d collected from Penny Pitchers at the bar across campus. Gone were the free t-shirts and dance company sweats he’d torn or cut to make them more comfortable for practice.

          In their place, Jimin had picked out custom fabrics to cover his chairs, found small batch glass plates and bowls to line his open kitchen shelves. He’d sourced a Persian rug from a little hole in the wall shop that had been in the neighborhood for seventy years and had runners made from their remnants. He’d curated his space, and his wardrobe, to fit the Jimin he’d always been. Each piece made up for the times that he could only hold onto cheap knock offs, embarrassed when someone noticed a shirt he was wearing from a bag they’d donated to Goodwill.

          Stepping into his space, it was hard not to gawk. Every inch of this apartment screamed maturity, knocking you off your feet. Had you been missing out on this for years? This Jimin, adult Jimin, was far more impressive than you’d realized. It was hard not to feel your heart hurting, yearning for the years you had been together, the moments shared, the love that had blossomed in your youth.

          This was going to be more devastating than you realized.

          “Can I get you something to drink?” Jimin asked. He took your jacket and purse, hanging them on the steampunk inspired coat rack.

          “Um, water would be good, thanks,” You said, moving through the entry way to the kitchen. “How long have you lived here?”

          “Uh, two years? But I just finished decorating maybe a month ago,”

          “It’s incredible,”

          “Thanks, how’s the magazine?”

          “A fucking shit show,” You took the glass from his hands, careful not to let his fingers brush against yours.

          “Hoseok mentioned that things have been getting more, challenging?”

          “Yeah, that’s the nice way of putting it.”

          “Hm,” Jimin hummed, sipping his own water.

          “How’s your job? I don’t, I know Hoseok and Tae and Jungkook have told me about what you do, but, what do you do?” You phrased your question carefully, knowing precisely what he has been up to. You’ve seen his campaigns, his work on water bottles and stickers around the city, not to mention his designs being picked up by Target and thrown onto pillows, blankets and beach towels. He’d won an award last year for his artwork that had been picked up and used as the home screen on the most recent Mac Book, Mac Book Pro and Mac Book Air. He was being considered as a new graphic artist for Penguin Publishing, working on new book jackets as well as negotiating a seven-figure deal with Target, only to be outbid by Costco.

          Jimin was everywhere, but he absolutely didn’t need to know that you knew that. He didn’t need to know how angry you were that neither of you actually ‘won’ your breakup.

          “Well, I graduated with a degree in graphic design and a minor in dance. After I discovered I didn’t want to dance professionally, I got a job in graphics. I kept working on projects and three years ago started my own company. My work has been in a lot of different places, which, I’m sure you’ve seen,” Jimin sipped his water, pouted lips glistening as the liquid graced over them.

          “Awfully cocky,” You smirked, long lasting Charlotte Tilbury, Glastonberry purple lipstick marking the glass.  

          “Or I know you well enough to know that you’ve been keeping tabs on me,” Jimin had no need to be cocky, he knew he was right. All he had to do was be confident.

          “That’s an awfully big assumption for you to make. But it’s cool, it explains why your apartment is Architectural Digest ready. Unless, you have a girlfriend with excellent taste who designed it all,” You were baiting him, and in the internal monologue that never shut the fuck up, you were beating yourself up over the fact that Erin had been correct.

          Jimin rolled his eyes, “Why don’t you just ask if I’m seeing someone?”

          “Now why would I be that direct?” You questioned.

           “You’ve been sitting behind a computer screen, trolling me for years instead of just talking to me. I should’ve expected you to find some roundabout way to ask if I’m single,” Jimin set his glass on the countertop and crossed his arms over his chest, defiance brooding in his dark eyes.

           “Look, I know it’s fucked up, that I’m fucked up. It is the sole purpose of me going to therapy,” You explained.

           “I would hope so,” Jimin scoffed. He’d never been indifferent to you, but you supposed you couldn’t expect anything less than anger after years of unwarranted harassment. Mentally, you kicked yourself over the fact that Claire had been right.

           “Jimin,” You sighed.

           “What?” He snapped.

           “I’m sorry,” You stared into his softening eyes, the ones you’d spent years trying to replace, burning the memories into your retinas once again.

           “Sorry for what?”

           “For everything,”

           “Care to be more specific?” He moved towards you, gliding from the far side of the kitchen to stand opposite you, elbows leaning against the cool granite of the countertop he custom ordered.

           “I have loved you since we were fifteen, okay? When you left, when I left,” You sighed, there was never going to be a poetic or graceful way to lay out your tumultuous feelings, but you owed it to yourself to try. “I never told you how much I loved you, or how much it hurt when you just, you moved on so quickly, and I didn’t know how to tell you that I didn’t want you to. I didn’t want to break up, I didn’t want to fall into another cliché of high school sweethearts preemptively breaking each other into pieces because of college. I wanted us to be the cliché that lasted, that worked. But you just, I’ve been hurting for years and I didn’t think you’d care, because you didn’t back then, so why would you now?”

           “So, you harassed me on the internet?” Jimin asked.

           You rolled your eyes. “It didn’t start out that way,”

           “How did it start?”

           “Someone sent me a link to your profile, and I just, retweeted with a stupid comment and you responded. In my gut, I thought, I felt, that you knew it was me. Why else would you engage with it? You didn’t engage with anyone else,” Your rehearsed explanation made perfect sense, you’d spent years crafting it, tweaking the language, ensuring there were no loopholes.

           “You checked?” Jimin’s smirk was back. Fuck him, it looked good against his angelic eyes.

           “I’m a journalist, Jimin,”

           “Still, you checked,”

           “The point is, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’ve been needling you for years. I’m sorry I didn’t just tell you how much I loved you, I’m sorry I’ve been a massive bitch, rivaling only Heather Chandler. I’m sorry for not telling you sooner, and I’m sorry Claire wrapped you up in this stupid article that I am no longer participating in. I’m sorry that even after I changed my fucking Twitter handle and you knew it was me, that I kept being a mythic bitch. I’m sorry for being the villain in your life.”

           “I’m sorry too,” Jimin rushed to say.

           “What do you have to be sorry for?”

           “I was a coward back then, too scared by what Yoongi and Namjoon said about dating in college. I should’ve, I should’ve fought for us more than I did.” He admitted.

          It hadn’t taken him long to realize the colossal mistake he had made, but by then Yoongi and Joon had planted the seeds in his mind that no one in their right mind makes it with their high school sweetheart. What a naïve notion, to stay with the same person you’ve loved since puberty.

           “Remember when you came back for my dad’s wedding?” You asked.

           “I regret that,” Jimin told you.

           “I cried for two days,”

           “I’m sorry,” He couldn’t look at you, his years of unsaid apologies waiting behind his pouting lips.

           “It was such a dick move.”

           Jimin smiled softly, he had missed the way you over exaggerated your speech, adding emphasis to superlatives, the slight way your eyes rolled when you were trying to make a point. A habit you’d developed in high school, he was glad to see you hadn’t replaced it with a new inane ritual. He still very much liked this one, found it endearing even after years of missing out on it.

           ���I know,” He conceded.

           “I can only assume it was on purpose.”

           “It, yeah, yeah, Hoseok said you were getting cozy with Seokjin,” He explained.

           “I was,” You nodded.

           “Was?”

           “He broke my heart, sometime after you showed up to New Years with what’s her name on your arm and proceeded to make the after-hours dance party in Dirty Dancing look like the Russian Ballet. Oh, and can’t forget you nearly fucking her in the kitchen as the ball dropped, which Yoongi made a very dirty joke about it.”

          You hadn’t kept a list of all his transgressions… but you had kept a list of all his transgressions, all his missteps, all his calculated moves, only to plan your own counterstrike. Erin had been right, you had started the Twitter battle, but Jimin had poisoned the blood between you long before you tweeted about it.

           “I was drunk,” He excused.

           “You did it on purpose,” You rolled your eyes, Jimin had forgotten how cute that was too.

           “I did,” He conceded.

           “I wasn’t fucking Seokjin on the dance floor for everyone to see,” You tossed back the rest of your water, eyes glancing at the living room where a framed photo remained. Prom, you in his arms, Hoseok beside you, Namjoon eyeing Caitlin Anderson, his date that you had made a point to not allow in the photo. She wasn’t sticking around, why ruin your group pic? (Namjoon still was pissed about this, though he hadn’t spoken to her since he left for college.) You were all too preoccupied with rules to drink, do drugs or smoke, so while your classmates were getting wrecked, you went bowling until 2AM. Jimin had climbed into your bedroom, after supposedly dropping you off, and you’d promised each other the world.

          It didn’t last through summer.

           Jimin sighed, a hand running through his bleached locks, tugging gently at the ends. “You weren’t.”

           “You didn’t have anything to prove, Jimin. I had already gotten the message. Too fucking loud and too fucking clear.” Your voice became small, the heart of your hurt, the source of your pain, bubbling up to the surface.

           “What was that message?” Jimin noted the change in your dynamic, your hand moving to play with the earring in your top hole, twirling it thoughtlessly as your eyes drug themselves from your prom photo back to him.

           “That you didn’t want me,” You whispered.

           Jimin let it sit in the air, the real reason you had harassed him, the real reason you were sitting in his kitchen, tears forming, lip trembling. This entire time, you had thought he didn’t want you anymore, didn’t love you, didn’t think you were his sun and moon.

           “Is that why Seokjin broke up with you?” He asked.

           “That he didn’t want me?” You questioned. He was toeing the line, danger signs would’ve been flashing, horns and sirens wailing telling Jimin to back the fuck off.

           “No, that you still wanted me,” He clarified.

           “Yeah, something like that,” You mumbled.

           “I wanted you too,” Jimin admitted.

           “Bullshit,”

           “You think I would bring around random girls if I didn’t think you would be there? That I would parade around, embarrassing myself, just to show off whoever was on my arm? Do you really think that little of me?” Jimin demanded, his anger that he’d long thought he’d worked through coming back to the surface. He was no longer calm, no longer sympathetic to your puppy dog eyes.

           “Jimin, I don’t know what to think of you! You broke my heart because of something Yoongi said, Yoongi, who doesn’t date let alone love anyone other than Jungkook, and then proceeded to what, listen to Namjoon?” Standing from your seat, you pushed the stool back under the immaculate white countertop. “What the fuck did they know about our relationship that I didn’t? Why were they making decisions about us, us, you and me, Jimin? Why did they have power and I had none?”

           “I was, I was scared,” He admitted, his voice meek against your thunderous admissions.

           “Bullshit! I was scared, you were cavalier.”

           “You don’t meet your person when you’re fifteen!” He yelled, anger coming to a head.

           “Are you fucking kidding me?” You’re yelling back, returning decibel for decibel. Stool pushed back, hand through your hair, blazer coming off to reveal the cheetah print blouse underneath. It was too hot in his apartment, too hot to have this conversation sober, too hot to be staring at him, the man who knew everything, everything, about you. It was too much for him to be confessing that he was a pussy.

           “No, I’m not,”

           “Park Jimin, you fucking asshole.”

           “I’m so-

           “No, no you’re not. If you were sorry, you wouldn’t be standing in front of me, trying to pawn off your emotions as fodder in some naïve fallacy that says you can’t grow and mature with the person you love at fifteen. You are absolutely fucking unbelievable Jimin.” Untucking your shirt, you moved towards the living room and the open window.

           “I’m so-

           “Shut up! You don’t get it, do you?” You asked, the tears stinging your eyes begging to be released.

           “Get what?” He muttered. You hear him plop down on the couch, and you know he’s slumped back, legs resting against the reclaimed wood coffee table, hands tucked behind his head, watching you.

           “You, Jimin! Do you understand who you are?” You turned, the cool air soothing against your shoulders.

           “I thought I did but apparently not, so enlighten me,” He requested.

           “You love harder than anyone I’ve ever met. You crave love, you seek it out from your friends and family and yes, your girlfriends. You remember every detail, every expression, every glance carries weight in your eyes. You love the hardest, you hurt the deepest, and when you said you didn’t think we’d make it, what else was I supposed to do other than believe you?”

           “I was an idiot! I was a child!” Jimin ran an unsteady hand through his locks, again, his nervous habit coming out in full force. “I was 18 and all I wanted was to elope, but I couldn’t because I had to make a name for myself. My parents demanded it from me, what was I to do, get lost in you? I was already drowning Y/N! All I breathed was you and fuck me if I wasn’t ready to commit to you but I knew you didn’t want to be the Topanga to my Cory so what could I do?”

           “There are a lot of things you could’ve done! You could’ve said something to me. You could’ve been amicable. You could’ve shared your fears and your hopes with me, Jimin. You didn’t have to parade around with girlfriend after girlfriend and tell me you didn’t want us anymore!”

           “I thought you were falling in love with someone else!” Jimin said.

           “Why does it matter what I was doing? Whenever you saw me, did you see me flaunting my new relationship in your face? Why did you, why would you think that I was ever over you?”

           “You were with Seokjin for two years,” Jimin answered, it wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either.

           “Oh, so I have a stable relationship and you assume it’s okay to be a dick?” You quipped. Sitting on the couch, your body relishes in the ease with which you let off a little tension.

           “No, you had someone else,” Jimin turned, arm propped on the back of the couch, body facing yours.

           “Doesn’t mean you had the right to treat me the way you did,” You hadn’t been this close to him in years, his breath mingling with yours. You could see the crinkles near his eyes, from moments when his laughter was the only thing on his mind.

           “I wanted to marry you,” Jimin reached his hand towards yours, intertwining your fingers, still a perfect fit.

           “But you didn’t,” You remind him.

           “I haven’t,” Jimin’s eyes were set your hand, your ring finger naked, heated gaze willing a diamond to be made out of the hair around you.

           “Jimin,”

           “We’ve been here for hours, we’ve rehashed the past, but not once have you said why you kept trolling me,” He turned his eyes back to yours, pleading softly for you to tell him that what he thinks you mean is truth, not willful thinking.

           “Because, Jimin. You’re so fucking dense sometimes,” You rolled your eyes, how did he not get it?

           “Because isn’t an-

           “I love you! You fucking asshole. I love you. I keep tabs on you because I’m still harboring some insanely poetic, pathetic, sociopathic love for you, Jimin. My first love, my only love. I know I’ve been a massive twat, I know it, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry for ruining the last five or so years of your life, I’m sorry for tweeting at you and about you. I’m sorry that I never said anything to you during college. I’m sorry I asked your mom not to tell you that we still talk. I’m sorry that I can’t seem to let you go. I’m sorry that I still love you.”

          The tears fell freely, cascading down your cheeks and neck, path only interfered when Jimin brought your face into his hands, thumbs moving meticulously to wipe the falling droplets. He’d always loved cupping your cheeks, holding your face delicately between his hands. He loved the intimacy, the care, the inability to hide anything from each other.

           “Marry me,” Jimin said, voice clear over your sobs.

           “What?”

           “Let’s go to city hall, get a license, let’s just, get married. Now, right now,”

           “Jimin, we’ve hardly-

           “I know my mom talks to you, she told me. She’s always told me. I still, I still talk to your dad, too. He texts me like once a week,” Jimin confessed.

           “You do?” You couldn’t believe it, your parents knew too?

           “I’ve always loved you, always. I knew-

           “You asshole! You fucking suck! Why did you make me pour out my heart like this only to tell me you fucking knew? Was this a ruse? Oh my god, are you The Duke? Am I Daphne? Quick, make haste to the gallery wall in your hallway so we can stare at the photos of your years without me and pretend that our hands touching isn’t the sexiest thing to happen since Regé Jean Page boxed shirtless,” You rambled in between wiping your dripping nose against your blouse sleeve. Words spilled from you, tumbled out from your lips at a speed you hadn’t reached in years. Jimin always knew how to get you so worked up air seemed like a luxury.  

           Jimin stood to retrieve a tissue box from the bathroom.

           “This wasn’t a ruse; I didn’t know you’d come over to talk about our relationship, our past. I was going to reach out I just, I thought you hated me.”

           He sat back down, this time closer, knee bumping against yours, leaning in to speak in docile tones.

           “When have I ever hated you?” You questioned.

           “I can think of at least one hundred occasions where you’ve said that you have,”

           “Such an-

           “And you keep calling me names,” Jimin rolled his eyes. You’ve always loved how he rolled his eyes, subtle and gentle, but deadly and effective.

           “I love you means you don’t have to say you’re sorry, so I won’t say it again,” You countered. You couldn’t hide the smile on your lips.

           “But I’ll say it, because while you’ve been angrily tweeting me, a poor attempt at showing your feelings,” Jimin braced for the contact of your hand against his shoulder, a gentle hit, accompanied by your own eyeroll and scoff. “Listen, I too have been an asshole. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I do accept your apologies, and I do forgive you. I love you, always have,” Jimin had taken both your hands in his, and gently, he placed kisses on each of your knuckles.

           “Jimin,” You murmured.

           “What Y/N?”

           “I accept your apologies. I love you, so much, and I’m sorry I wasted the last few years instead of just saying that I wanted us to try again.” You turned your hands over, mimicking his gesture by placing lingering kisses across the back of his hand.

           “I’m sorry I didn’t fight for us during college. I’m sorry I brought girlfriends to family events, I’m sorry my actions made you think I stopped loving you.”

           “You didn’t, right?” You peered up at him, lips leaving the palm of his left hand.

           “Never,” Jimin held your gaze, watching as you sat up.  

           “Even when you were dating skanky girl number three, with the nose ring and the summer house in Montauk? That you brought home for spring break and asked if you could bring to Namjoon’s parent’s anniversary?” You questioned.

           “You really want to rehash everything, don’t you?” Jimin chuckled, your ridiculousness knew no bounds.

           “I mean, we don’t have to right now we-

           “Can I kiss you?” Jimin leaned forward, cherry lips finding purchase on the delicate flesh on the inside of your wrists, a sensation that specialized in making your toes curl.

           “You think that’s wise?” Your voice, a breathy groan embarrassingly needy, seemed to belong to someone other than you. Someone who needed Jimin to toss them over his shoulder and fuck into his $2,000 sheets.

           Jimin laughed, “You were my first kiss, my first time, my first everything. You think now, as adults, kissing is going to ruin us getting back together?”

           “I just mean that, do we need to let this simmer before we, you know,” You bobbled your head, hair moving around to match the giddiness bubbling inside of you.

           “We don’t have to have sex,”

           “Yeah,” You sighed, “but don’t you like, really want to?”

           “And you call yourself a journalist!”

          “Shut up!”

          “You’re being ridiculous! Of course, I want to,” Jimin’s docile laugh sent a shiver down your spine.

          “I am being cautious, I need to know that you, that you want this,” You reiterated.

          It hurt to have to ask Jimin to give you something he already had, to give you his love again, to give you his trust. But it wasn’t you who ended this relationship, it wasn’t you who thought your relationship wouldn’t last through college. You knew you could work through it all; it was Jimin that walked away shattering your heart and your trust. It was Jimin who was scared of being with you, Jimin who needed to prove he was going to make this work. Jimin who had lost it all and needed to fight for you again.

          “You’re asking me if I want to have sex with the love of my life, after years of not being able to touch her, to kiss her, to love her the way she’s earned?” Jimin asked.

           “Yes,”

           “To borrow a phrase from you, fuck you for thinking either one of us has any self-control. Especially when it comes to each other. How many tweets have we exchanged? How many times have you asked Hoseok about me, or my mother?” Jimin cupped your cheeks again, eyes darting from you slightly parted, purple stained lips to your eyes. “I’m in this, for good, and I will tell you every day until you believe me again.”

           “Me too, though you should know I’ve picked up a few new habits I’m sure Taehyung has told you about,” You leaned into his touch, cheek warming at the light callouses that remained from his overeager workouts, and mic twirls he mastered in too many nights singing karaoke with Jungkook.

           “Yeah?”

           “Yeah, I’ve started wrapping my hair. And I’m also still allergic to kiwi,” You reminded him.

           “Good, who needs a slimy green fruit with too many seeds?”

           “Truly no one, except Australians,” You laughed and your pun.  

           “Remember that day before senior year, when we got smoothies, but they didn’t tell you that they’d put kiwi in it, and you had to go the emergency room?” Jimin’s hands have dropped from your face, instead clapping together, head tossing back as his laughter overtook his body.

           “Or the time after watching Friends, Joon decided he wanted to make a kiwi-lime pie despite the fact we told him not to put kiwi, and he did anyway?” You laughed with him, head leaning against the arm that he had extended across the back of the couch.

           “You wanted to kill him,” Jimin agreed.

           “He forgot he had put it in! Then forced me to try it! I still hear his voice, ‘Y/N, please just a bite. Please, I worked really hard on it, come on, just a taste, please’. I swear to you, Sara Bareilles heard him and saved it for the Waitressmusical,” You laughed.

          “I don’t remember who was more pissed, your mom or you,” Jimin added.

          “He offered to pay for my hospital visit,”

          “He paid it all off, didn’t he?”

          “Before the month had ended, he didn’t even work out a payment plan, and bought me a new EpiPen,” You couldn’t stop laughing. Namjoon, the ever-lovable oaf, had never stopped apologizing for badgering you into eating his fucking pie. You couldn’t even tell if it was good, the minute the kiwi hit your tongue, your body reacted.

          “He’s always been, responsible,” Jimin was calming down, high pitched squeaks on longer radiating off his vocal cords.

          “To a fault,” You sighed. “My mom gave it all back to him, she saved it for the day he graduated college and got into med school.”

          “Was he shocked?”

          “Pleasantly so,”

          Jimin hummed in agreement, his arm moving to drape across your shoulders, your body relaxing back into him. Your head found its way to his shoulder, and slowly you breathed in his scent. He’d changed colognes since the last time you’d been this close, this vulnerable with him. You liked it, fresh and crisp, with undertones of sandalwood and something that smelled like Kimchi, though you knew Jimin enough to know he’d probably eaten some for lunch. You liked it, his warmth pulling you to him, the safety of his embrace reminding you of all the days and nights you’d spent just like this.

           “Jimin?”

           “Yes?”

           “Did you, after we broke up did you ever, fall in love again?” You craned your neck to try and catch his expression.

           “No, I got close, but I never did. Did you fall in love with Seokjin?”

           “It’s complicated. I loved him, I did, but I wasn’t in love with him,” You moved ever so slowly out of his grasp, trying to gage his expression.

           “Did you think you’d get married?” Jimin leaned closer. His movement, calculated and timid, hatched the cocoons in your stomach into full butterflies, beating wings against your insides.

           “No, well,” You tilted your head, a habit from Hoseok, and licked your bottom lip. You should’ve remembered to put Aquaphor on your lips before leaving the cab. “One time I thought maybe we might work out, maybe we’d find a way through, well, you. But he never, he always kind of knew that my heart was still tied up with yours.”

           Jimin watched as you wet your bottom lip, tongue gracefully moving to swipe across your flesh, hoping to take the place of your tongue with his own.

           “Did he, did he bring me up when he-

           “Dumped me?”

           “Yeah,”

           “Kind of,” You blinked quickly, eyes trying to discern if Jimin was in fact moving closer, or if your vision was playing tricks on you and trying to zoom in on him while he moved way.

           “I’m sorry that I, that I was used against you. I’m -

          “Jimin, as much as I would love to iron out the details of Seokjin dumping me, and I’m sure negotiating the terms of us getting back together, and naturally filling each other in on the last few years we’ve been apart…” You licked your lips again, “Your lips keep getting farther away from mine and I really, really need to kiss you.”

          Jimin didn’t need to be told twice, and lunged forward, pinning you beneath him, hips pressing into yours, pressure of his body against you, holding you to him.

           “I missed you,” Jimin said before closing the space between you, plump, soft and supple lips pressing aggressively against yours. You knew he’d be stained purple, the thought of him walking into whatever We-Work adjacent workspace his office was in, with purple tinted lips and bruised flesh, thrilled you.

           Jimin had always been your favorite person to kiss. Tasting like nostalgia and 7/11 Slurpee’s that you’d split on summer days, half blue raspberry, half cherry, two large straws and a sugar hangover that almost always led to naps on the hammock in your mom’s backyard. Kissing adult Jimin, experienced Jimin, Jimin who had slept with other people besides you, was intoxicating. Skilled in the way he used his tongue against yours, nibbling your bottom lip before diving in, he’d learned a few new tricks that had you moaning underneath him.

           “You know,” You started, his lips gnawing at the flesh of your neck, hot kisses and love bites decorating you a shade of purple you wished Charlotte Tilbury sold. “I still haven’t seen your bedroom.”

           Jimin laughed, “Oh so now you’re going to be direct?”

           “When have I ever been subtle?”

           “Clearly not in your Tw-

           “Jimin,” You interrupted, index finger silencing his lips. “Just, take me to your bed and make love to me. I promise, I swear, I won’t troll you on the internet ever again, okay?”

           “Okay,” Jimin couldn’t stop smiling as he stood, adjusted the waistband of his flat front chinos, and reached for your hand. “Come on, we’ve got five and a half years and a shit ton of tweets to make up for.”

           Rolling your eyes, you stood, hand in his and followed him down the hallway, past the gallery wall and into his bedroom, where you clocked another photo from high school, this time just you and Jimin, his parents and brother, smiling at high school graduation. You turned to him, ready to comment but cut off by his lips again, hands pulling you towards him, arms wrapping you in his embrace.

           As you drowned in Jimin, in the way his bare skin felt against yours, how his hands moved, tender and lovingly on your skin, relearning routes and maps he’d written many moons ago, it was easy to remember why you’d fallen love with him, and even easier to remember why you’d never gotten the love you shared. Jimin was attentive, passionate, loving, giving… he took his time with you, waited for you to be ready, brought out the best in you in every situation. With his voice in your ear, his sounds overriding the previous iteration you’d had on lock from your teen years, his hips grinding into yours, reclaiming what he had once lost, Jimin rewrote the future you hadn’t been able to imagine since he broke your heart.

          In his ministrations on your body, his love personified in how he made your toes curl, your mind blank, your body his, Jimin vowed to love you, to stand by you, to hate who you hate and love who you love. To feed your every obsession and call you on your bullshit. He promised to protect you, to ensure you never eat kiwi, and to tell you he loves you at least three times every day, beyond earning your trust, beyond you believing him, beyond putting a ring on your finger and giving you his last name (if you wanted to take it). He vowed to never leave, not when it gets tough, not when he is scared, not when you spew that you hate him, which you inevitably will. In return, you promised to give him the world, which he admittedly had whenever you were with him.

           Love was complicated and messy… and it pissed you off to no end to know that all it took was a few years of dragging Jimin on Twitter to get the love of your life back.

[cafedanslanuit]

[ k i n k t o b e r ]  d a y   12    -   masterlist

↪ character: jumin han [mystic messenger]

↪ tags/warnings: +18, female!reader, cam girl, videocall sex, mutual masturbation, porn with plot.

↪ a/n: the way i intended this to be short and turn out to be a full story lol. still, i really liked this and i can picture going back to this scenario again <3

Pop-up ads were Jumin Han’s worst nightmare.

No matter how many fancy antivirus the tech department installed on his laptop, he always managed to click somewhere he wasn’t supposed to and next thing he knew, there was a picture of an erect penis on his screen.

It usually didn’t irritate him as much, but that day he had to stay up working on a project and now he was stuck in a website he couldn’t close, no matter how many times he clicked the small “x”. He had called someone from the tech department and solicited a new laptop. It was going to take around thirty minutes for it to arrive. He poured himself a glass of wine and looked disgusted at his screen, where a blonde woman was playing with her breasts in front of the camera, that said “Live”.

Once again, he tried to close the window, but instead opened a new one instead, making him roll his eyes backwards in exasperation. When he looked at the screen again, he saw a young woman with long brown hair and big eyes looking at the screen with a small smile. It felt like she was looking right into her eyes, and he covered the camera on his laptop for a second just to make sure she wasn’t. She was wearing a white baby doll while kneeling on her bed, her bare thighs looking incredibly soft and alluring. She wasn’t touching herself but rather playing with her hair and giggling once in a while after looking at her screen. Jumin’s eyes darted to the right, where he saw comments from anonymous people appearing by the second.

As she read them, she propped up her thigh, making Jumin blush instantly. He couldn’t see her underwear, but the innocent way she had moved as if she hadn’t figured out she was showing more skin made his head spin.

His security guard knocking on his door made him come back to reality. His new laptop was probably back. Jumin quickly noted down the name of the user and the name of the website that had appeared in front of him before opening the door and taking his new laptop to finish up his work.

Watching her became a regular thing he did right before he went to bed. After a quick research he had understood what was the purpose with what the internet called cam girls, but the girl he had become so obsessed with didn’t meet all the criteria. For example, he hadn’t seen her naked once, every time she wore lingerie that covered from her breasts to her bottom. She usually just chatted with the people that left comments and sometimes would show off the clothes she was wearing. Jumin felt embarrassed at the tent that formed in his pants after she turned around to show off a cat lingerie that had a tail attached to it.

Two weeks after his discovery, he found himself again watching her. She was wearing a black lingerie set and was kneeling on her bed, a slightly distraught expression on her face.

“No, thankfully I’m okay,” she said, and her voice made Jumin’s heart flutter. “It just isn’t working anymore. A lot of smoke came out and I had to call a tow truck.”

He paid attention to the comments as they appeared and figured out it was about her car breaking down. She proceeded to explain how much she needed it to get to work and that she still didn’t have the money for it.

“So, if anyone can donate at least $5 I’d be really thankful,” she shrugged with a sheepish smile that didn’t match with the website he was watching her in.

For the first time ever, he moved his fingers to the keyboard and typed a message.

user18368: ‘How much does it take to fix your car?’

He watched her eyes go to her screen and read his comment.

“Oh, it’s about $2000. So yeah, I’m hoping I can get some here and then maybe sell some of my stuff, I don’t know,” she answered, fixing the strap on her bra.

The big golden ‘Donate’ button seemed to get bigger as he weighed his options. Jumin wasn’t an impulsive person, but seeing her sad face and the fact $2000 wasn’t a lot of money for him to begin with, he impulsively took out his credit card and filled out the form to send the money she needed.

The look of surprise on her face was enough for him to smile when she saw his donation appear on the screen. The cute way she covered her mouth with her hands as she bounced on the bed with glee was all Jumin needed to stop asking what the other people in the chat meant by calling him a ‘simp’. She thanked him, or well, she thanked user18368 for the donation and said she would call him later for his reward.

Reward?

Jumin’s eyes flickered to the stop of the screen where he saw the title of that day’s stream: ‘Emergency giveaway: 1 on 1 session! <3’.

Oh.

Not even five minutes after she finished the stream, he saw a small pop-up on the website that said ‘Sweetheart’ wanted to chat. Jumin swallowed thick and clicked on the ‘Accept’ button, not sure what he was doing. The girl appeared on his screen and waved at him, the most beautiful smile he had ever seen on her face.

“Hey! Thanks again for the car money. I owe you my life,” she joked, bouncing a little on her bed. Jumin stayed silent. His camera and microphone were off, but she was still smiling at him, and unlike the previous times, she was smiling just at him. “Hey, you don’t have to turn on your camera if you’re uncomfortable, but maybe you could turn your mic on? I’m always nervous some kid got here and I’m corrupting a minor,” she explained with a giggle. Jumin pressed on the microphone button.

“Definitely not a child.”

The girl’s eyes widened a little at the sound of his voice, her cheeks blushing at the same time. She bit her lip and then put on a smile again.

“Okay, what would you like to do? Would you like me to do something you like?”

“No,” Jumin answered quickly. “No, I-- I honestly didn’t know there was a prize behind this. I just wanted to send you the money you needed because I’ve been watching you for a while and I wanted to help out.”

“Oh, for how long?” she asked, curiously.

“A couple of weeks,” he said, embarrassed. “If that’s okay.”

“It’s totally okay,” she assured him, smiling again just the way he was starting to fall for. “I don’t really do a lot of shows in public, but sometimes I agree to do other… stuff in private sessions like this,” she said, playing with her hands.

“Like what?” he asked, intrigued.

“Like… well, sometimes I tell them what I would like someone to do to me. Sometimes I play with myself a bit,” she said, her fingers stroking the hem of her cleavage. Jumin felt himself getting hard at every move she made. “Or I watch them touch themselves. But if you don’t want to turn on your camera it’s really okay. I can tell you what to do.”

“What to do?”

“Uh-huh,” she hummed. “For example, I’d like you to lower your pants right now and touch yourself over your underwear. That is, if you’re wearing any,” she added with a cheeky smile.

Jumin looked at his locked bedroom door, not sure what to do. He had never been one to enjoy these kinds of situations, but there was something about her that drew him to oblige to her every word. She was waiting for him patiently, her innocent face a sharp contrast to what she was asking him to do. Still, he started touching himself over his pajama bottoms, his cock twitching at the attention.

“Mmmm, are you by any chance a little hard?” her voice rang, making him look at the screen again.

“Yeah,” he muttered. Jimin felt dirty, he felt like someone was going to catch him doing something indecorous, but he also couldn’t stop himself from complying to her orders.

“I always take that as a compliment,” she smiled, sticking her tongue out playfully. “Can you touch yourself directly now?”

Jumin did as told, freeing his cock and starting to pump it. He let out a groan as he made contact with his erection and right when he was about to apologize, he saw her biting her lips.

“I like your voice,” she commented, playing with her black babydoll. Jumin kept pumping himself, feeling somewhat proud she was reacting to his voice as well. “Now, I don’t want any fast movements. Just slow, like this,” she said, moving her hand on the screen.

He imitated her hand movements with his own, imagining for a second she was there with him instead of behind a screen.

“Fuck,” he hissed. He wanted to go faster, but her hand was still moving slowly and he wouldn’t be the one to do anything but what she asked him to. He saw her biting his lip when he talked again.

“Okay. Now slowly circle your tip with your thumb. But softly, as if it was a small lick,” she winked. She waited for him to do as she said, his breathing becoming more ragged with every second that went by.

Jumin’s deep grunts were making her squirm on her seat. How could someone’s voice be that attractive? She wished he turned on his camera, but knew better than to pressure him to do so. Closing her eyes, her right hand travelled to her front, underneath her lingerie and started rubbing her clit. She let out a soft mewl, her middle finger drawing circles around her clit, making her see stars.

“Keep pumping yourself, a little faster now” she said, trying to ignore how much she was panting at her own ministrations. “But please, let me hear you more.”

With one hand, he brought his laptop closer to him, so she could listen to his voice better. Jumin was never one to do these things. He had been thought better, he knew the proper way to act with a lady, but… the way she was slightly bouncing on the bed as she touched herself had caused a short circuit inside his head.

“Keep going, keep going,” she whispered, a moan escaping her lips. She parted her legs and even if he couldn’t see anything, the sole sight of her hand rubbing against her while her face was contorted in pure pleasure was enough to send Jumin over the edge. He grunted as he did so, staining his stomach with his release, as his eyes were still glued on the screen.

She kept touching herself, the sound of Jumin’s orgasm obviously affecting her, as her back arched as she kept her hand moving rapidly.

A dark idea crossed Jumin’s mind as he saw her getting closer, an idea he might not have acted on unless he was sure she couldn’t see him, like in that moment.

“Keep going,” Jumin instructed her, his voice a bit hoarse as he was just coming back to his senses. She opened the eyes and looked at the screen, her cheeks bright red, and nodded. In a matter of seconds, she was orgasming in front of him, and Jumin thought he had never seen a woman more beautiful than her. Even as she broke down, her face looked pristine, innocent, and the way she hadn’t even undressed herself or seen him for her to come undone was making his head spin.

She inhaled deeply as she tried to regulate her breathing, a shy smile as she looked at the front camera.

“Sorry, I-- Your voice is just… really hot,” she muttered, looking down at her hands.

“It's okay. You’re very enticing yourself,” he replied, wishing he was able to pull her on his lap and hold her close after sharing such a moment. 

She thanked him again for the money and he shrugged it off. The little wave she did to him as she said goodbye stayed on his mind for the rest of the week.

---

It was like everyone he met knew what he had done one week ago. Jumin knew they didn’t, but that didn’t help from feeling stressed whenever someone looked at him for a second longer than needed. The girl with the long brown hair and big eyes was living on his mind, twisting and twirling the red strings he had there, only managing him to confuse him even more. He had avoided her stream the last few days, wanting to desintoxicate himself, but quickly learnt it wasn’t possible.

“We’re here,” Jaehee said, as Driver Kim stopped the car. It was supposed to be a short balance meeting after the last RFA party, and taking into consideration everyone’s schedules, they had agreed to meet at a cafe downtown. Jaehee had assured everyone the meeting shouldn’t be longer than half an hour, but that their presence was necessary as she needed everyone to sign some documentation for the donations.

When he entered the coffee shop with Jaehee, he saw Saeyoung, Zen and Yoosung were already there. After muttering ‘good afternoon’, she sat on his seat and watched idly as Saeyoung was teasing Yoosung over something he didn’t quite hear.

“Now that the CEO-in-line is here, we can finally order,” Zen said, rolling his eyes at him. Jumin ignored him, not having the energy to respond to that. The actor called over one of the waitressed, who quickly approached their table.

“Hi! Are you ready to order now?” she asked in a cheerful tone.

Jumin didn’t even have to look up to know whose voice he had just heard.

[jangmi-latte]

I heard you wanted help with a character analysis! I have come to help out, if I can! So, I have a question for you that may help out with at least one character we have information on, do you think Jamil Viper truly hates Kalim Al-Asim because of how the two's families' situation or Jamil is lying to himself? If you wish, I can discuss it with you and help you come to a conclusion, I am more than happy to help you if you need it.

You know, I have been observing Jamil’s actions ever since Chapter 5 started. It has been very visible that this vice-dorm leader has gone through a lot and the fandom knows that for sure. It bothers me sometimes seeing some Jamil x Kalim one-shots where it focuses on Jamil being all friendly with Kalim – friendly in a way the servant master relationship doesn’t bother him when it’s the other way around. I hope this essay of mine helps out expound on Kalim and Jamil’s relationship starting from pre-enrollment to post-enrollment. Before I jump straight into the main question, I’ll slowly expound on Jamil’s progress throughout the Scarabia Arc towards Pomefiore’s Arc.

i would also love to created the TWISTED WONDERLAND WIKIA and for the translators who are behind this site for providing the translations. this analysis won't be complete without them. it has been a very big help.

do note this analysis is NOT SPOILER-FREE so if you don’t wanna get spoiled, this meal is not for your dear customer.

01. Jamil’s freedom

First, let’s differentiate how Jamil acts with and without Kalim around. In most of the main and personal stories, Jamil was always with Kalim. In one instance – like in his PE card – we have seen Jamil without Kalim around. We can see how Jamil has a tendency to be bossy and how he has a way with words in terms of helping Floyd with his desire to do a headstand. Yes, he may have shown this personality around Kalim, however, it is noted how Jamil didn’t hold back into explaining to Floyd (very detailed at that) about the one thing he’s good at. Until he has caught himself again and realized he spoke too much.

We can see how Jamil desperately wants to share who he really was (his talents, his ideologies, etc.) to others, something he couldn’t show when he’s around Kalim.

He said it himself, “my inner dancing soul started to ache…” which is why he shared his own thoughts.

“Ahem! …It’s nothing. When I went out with Kalim in the past, there were occasions where I did a bit of dancing.” He held back again just because Kalim was mentioned. Ace even mentioned how it wasn’t A BIT of what Jamil did in dancing.

It’s obvious how Jamil actually wanted to dance more and teach Floyd what he’s good at except Ace mentioned how it was a basketball club and not a dance club. It’s clear how he’s used to adjusting himself and hold back with what he wants to do. We’re just glad Floyd somehow persuaded that made Jamil show his real self.

Do note how Floyd complimented Jamil when he did a handstand and how happy he must’ve felt about himself.

He was willing, his own choice, to teach Floyd and NOT because he’s obligated to like he was around Kalim. He even shared what techniques he could do.

In his voice lines, we can see how Jamil actually wants to be more powerful. Not like that’s already not obvious, however, there was always the resentment of holding back. He wanted to enjoy himself, as noted in Fairy Gala where he went all out and didn’t hold back, and in Dances and Wishes where he mentioned that he wanted to travel alone. In one of his groovy lines, he said “Sometimes it’s nice to just forget about everything and enjoy yourself. It’s been a long time since I felt like that.”

HE DOESN’T WANT TROUBLE ANYMORE!!! Please, give this man a break, he really hates getting into other people’s business. Let alone getting dragged into them. Why is this under his freedom category? Because anywhere Kalim is, there will always be trouble. Meaning, not only is his safety in the line but also the way he acts. Stiff, robot-like, servant, guardian, you say it. Is Jamil one of those? No.

He always tries to find something beneficial with being around Kalim. Dancing, for example. He stated that whether he likes it or not, Jamil has eventually found fun in dancing and let alone develop strength just by chasing him around.

It has always been mentioned how Jamil is good at cooking and I even read that his kitchen is his go-to when he's stressed and whatnot. But let's remember that Jamil DOESN'T really likes cooking that much. He's only obligated to do so. He mentioned it in his SSR dorm uniform voice lines. Don't associate him with the kitchen too much. 

He ALWAYS mentions Kalim!!! In every voice line, in every personal story, hell, even the main story, there wouldn't be ONE instance where he wouldn't mention Kalim. Why? That's what he was born to do. To always mention his master, to mention his position, to keep the focus away from him and move it towards who he's serving. That's his life. Imagine his happiness when he finally gets a chance to shine on his own.

Connecting to the previous paragraph, either Jamil notices it or not, he consciously and subconsciously lies to himself and to others — except to those who have Asim as their last name. We all know Jamil would go boast about his intelligence, skills, and talents when he wants to and as noted in his overblot, he didn't hold back (he was in a state of no control, yes, but when someone overblots they most often spill what they were truly feeling deep down). Yet, Jamil has grown accustomed into lying to himself and to others that, "This is what I can only do. This is what I am for, etc." He always belittles himself to others and it wasn't a choice of his. 

I noticed how Jamil would always say he doesn't want to stand out and I couldn't point out whether this includes him lying to himself or he genuinely just doesn't like attention. Why this confuses me is because he said he wanted to be number one and known for his own talents yet he doesn't like standing out. I would assume that he wants to be known for who he is in a way of recognition and not by any loud or crowd settling attention. 

Now, Jamil often jokes about "I'm the master now, serve me" in his SSR birthday card and it's easy to point out that (1) he isn't used to attention being placed on him and he's growing accustomed to it, (2) it's a form of control mechanism for him that he knows he's still a servant despite getting such privilege for a day. He is used to his position but that doesn't mean he won't fight for what he wants/believes. After all, Kalim already told him and he's slowly trying to do so without breaking his position still.

02. Jamil’s relationship with Kalim (post-overblot) 

Jamil has vocally stated his hatred for Kalim which happened after his overblot. He doesn’t want to be friends, he doesn’t want ANYTHING that involves being with Kalim. He is there solely for the purpose of being a servant and to finish school. Just like I stated, Jamil tries to find benefits with being around Kalim, whether he likes it or not, he is getting a good dose of education, a good shelter, food, etc. Even though Jamil wants not only him but his family as well to get out of the traditional servant position, he knows he doesn’t have the power to do so. My only conclusion here is that Jamil has very limited choices and that he knows that he has to endure Kalim maybe a bit longer.

Now, this is where we start answering the main question, does Jamil Viper truly hates Kalim Al-Asim because of how the two's families' situation or is he lying to himself? The answer is no – in the prospect of hating Kalim. BUT the most logical answer I could give is that Jamil is slowly warming up (VERY SLOWLY) to Kalim AND NOT HIS FAMILY’S POSITION. Those are two different things:

Jamil’s obligation is to look after Kalim, feed him, protect him, teach him, etc. That’s what he hates. What I’m trying to say here is that Jamil still cares about Kalim. Why do I say this? Notice in the Fairy Gala event, not only did he prove himself to the audience and to Vil but he also was having fun. Despite the harsh training he went through, I believe those smiles he shared with Kalim showed the progress in their relationship with each other.

In Chapter 5-34, we can see Kalim talking about how he was poisoned and mentioned he doesn’t like the idea of the culprit (whoever plans to poison him)  never apologizing when he ever was poisoned. Based on Jamil’s silence, what he probably felt was guilt. He never apologized for what he did but he knew what he did was wrong. At the beginning chapters of Chapter 5, he did explain what happened between him and the dorm students and how he’ll just stick to Kalim from now on. He despises Kalim’s sweet, sunshine, nature because he’s the exact opposite. He knows he’s the villain, he knows he can’t accept Kalim’s personality due to his nature. Kalim’s too nice, Jamil isn’t, they go well together and he (Jamil) doesn’t want to do anything with it. Let Kalim live his own life, he’ll live his.

“We’re not friends, remember…?” Remember Jamil’s tendency to lie? He’s lying to himself. He always tries to make himself hate Kalim but he can’t.

Want to be even more convinced? Chapter 5-30, why would Jamil eavesdrop on MC and Kalim’s conversation? He’s watching over Kalim, yes, but what do you think he felt after hearing Kalim finally learn? Don’t you think he felt relieved? I know for sure he won’t feel guilt over that, all he wanted was for Kalim to be aware of their differences and to be independent. That’s what’s happening to Kalim right now.

Ah, additional to that, the Halloween event. Jamil checked on Kalim, didn’t he? He trusted Kalim on his own. He was actually smiling when Ace pointed out how he keeps checking his phone. He was only checking on Kalim, okay, but please. The trust he actually placed on Kalim was big. Improvement in friendship.

Concerning his position, that’s the sole thing Jamil wants to change. That has always been his goal. To change his family’s position as servant, get a break, have freedom. Who knows? If Jamil ever did get what he wanted, he might go back to Kalim. He’s hard to read.

Conclusion:

I wanted to expound more on the depth of their relationship but this post has gotten too long. To keep it short, Jamil is still contemplating to himself. We can’t instantly jump into the ‘yes and no’ into his hatred for we are still ongoing with Pomefiore’s chapter which will unfold more of their relationship. He somehow hates Kalim but doesn’t in a way of personality and ideology, not the whole person himself. He also hates his position but again, Jamil did something wrong and he knows it. They’re both still learning, they’re both still progressing throughout their relationship. I hope this analysis answered your question! It was fun ^^.

[friendofhayley]

Hooray for all content creators in all fandoms! Y’all make the world go round! This is April’s round-up of fics I read and recommend from multiple fandoms. This fic rec includes 9 fics from the Teen Wolf, Harry Potter, and One Direction fandoms!

Drarry (Harry Potter)

1. Nero su bianco by @zuzallove | oblivious boys in love - we get to see what Draco could have been thinking during 7th year Hogwarts - lots of drama, if you’re into it - Narcissa knows all and is great - 40k

September 1997. Hogwarts is under the regime of Voldemort and the Carrows. Finding himself alienated by both his friends and his supposed enemies, Draco puts quill to parchment, and writes letters. He addresses them to the only person he can think of, as Hogwarts rapidly falls into chaos and ruin: Harry Potter. He goes to great lengths to ensure the letters are never discovered, and he’s pretty certain he’s done a great job.

Until the day of his trial.

2. What’s Eating Draco Malfoy? by @actual-howlinglikeaseaturtle | this is a re-read so it’s v v good - cw eating disorder, suicide ideation, alcoholism - Ginny & Draco being friends is just so special to me - also everything is handled very well - 75k

"Tragedy struck today when Anorexia Nervosa claimed a young boy's life," he spoke loudly. "Very sad. He will be missed by one person, maybe two. Awful. Now to the weather with Carl!"

Ginny could not help herself; she burst out laughing. She didn't know what was more absurd. The way Malfoy joked about his own death or the fact that he had watched muggle TV. Muggle news even.

"You're a bloody lunatic!" she snorted, and Malfoy's smile widened.

Sterek (Teen Wolf)

3. Exactly Like You by Jerakeen | Pride and Prejudice AU whoo whoo!! - werewolves are known - stereotypical A/B/O - but everything else is the same except Scott leaves town with Derek after S1 - 70k

“It was Jackson’s idea,” Lydia explains, looking perfectly serious while standing in front of a March Madness bracket of Beacon Hills’ eligible bachelors.

Jackson looks smug. “It only makes sense.”

Stiles meets Isaac’s eyes over the heads of all the crazy people in the room. Isaac shrugs with a slight wince. “’Tis the season.”

4. But Then What... by Stoney | Derek is the same age as Stiles! - I just love how they’re written like real (horny) teenagers - they’re just so bad at communication - also Jackson is a Jackass - 24k

Senior year is almost over, and all Stiles needs to do is keep his head down to survive. A teacher calls in a favor, leaving him stuck tutoring Derek Hale, one of the most popular jocks in school and a member of a group of douchecanoes who have bullied Stiles for years. He's someone Stiles totally hates. Totally. Like, doesn't like him even a little bit. DEFINITELY isn't attracted to him.

Except that is a total lie. Fuck his life, seriously.

5. We’ll be Better Around the Second Time by @jordansaysno | I don’t know about y’all but this hits my wish fulfillment for running away from home in high school - side Isaac/Scott which is very cool - Stiles deserved better tbh - happy ending - 26k

It's been months. Months of fading contact with the pack. Months of the silent treatment from his father. Months of nothing but himself and the occasional lesson with Deaton to entertain him.

It's too much, and eventually, Stiles leaves.

For years, everything goes great, until of course his dad gets injured, and he is suddenly forced to deal with people he thought he left behind in his past for good.

6. Fireman Derek’s Crazy Pie [Cheeseburger Baby] by @thegloryof | this is such a classic and what I turn to when I’m really craving pie - NYC fic - some parts are just delicious to read (and not just for the food porn) - misunderstandings - 17k

“He can't blame me for the fact that I live in a building full of people united in the singular effort to ogle Hot Fireman as often as humanly possible."

Laura laughs, loud and echoing in the empty restaurant. "Hot firemen can make a girl do crazy things," she agrees, nodding towards her brother's name on the menu. "Derek won't let me date anyone from his company, but that doesn't mean I can't appreciate the eye candy."

"Send them my way," Stiles suggests, finally loading up a forkful of pie. "Apparently I'm incompetent enough that I need to be babysat at all times, because it would be cheaper than dispatching a truck every time I try to use a kitchen appliance."

7. Don’t Feed the Wolves by Amazonia_8 | another classic fic that’s also hot - cw: Derek thinks Stiles can’t consent - werewolves are known - the jailhouse scene is constantly replaying in my head - 30k

Stiles took the dare, because what else was he supposed to do when the whole lacrosse team was chanting his name? Even though the werewolf pack had left Beacon Hills years ago, nobody was stupid enough to set foot on the Hale property.

Except, apparently, Stiles.

Now he's got a feral werewolf following him around town with the sole purpose of claiming Stiles as his own.

Larry (One Direction)

8. take my hand (and my heart and soul) by @anylessreal | aaaaaa this was so good! - just so much misunderstandings, but it’s so cool that the audience/Harry don’t know what’s going on too! - amnesia - friends to strangers to lovers - 45k

Harry feels nauseous when he opens his mouth. "Hey. Um, hi. It's me," he mumbles before realizing with a jolt that Louis might not have his number anymore. "It's Harry... Styles," he tacks on, screwing his eyes shut and pinching the bridge of his nose. This was a terrible idea.

There's silence on the other end for a long time. Harry understands. He shouldn't have called. He tries not to let the static swallow him whole.

"I – yeah. Hi," Louis finally answers, slowly, awkwardly. "I um. Sorry. I heard about your accident. You're alright?"

9. thinking about the t-shirt you sleep in by @absoloutenonsense | this was another re-read!! - traditional A/B/O - misunderstandings due to past abuse (not done by the boys) - get ready for some high/low emotions - 52k

Harry's alpha fraternity donates to a local thrift shop (because of Liam's latent crush on a cute beta in his lecture). Louis' financial situation (and confusing omega instincts) lead him to make some interesting fashion purchases. Lots of pizza, feelings, and not-really-lying.

[writing-is-my-guilty-pleasure]

Patient || Kylo Ren/Ben Solo x Reader ~ Part 4

A/N: Part 4! Thanks for everyone’s patience (lol) with this part - Uni has been incredibly time consuming and I’ve just been too tired to write anything - so I’m trying to write a few things in advance on my Christmas holiday! I think there should only be one or two more parts in this series, and feedback is always welcome :)

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 

Main Masterlist

Star Wars Masterlist

“What’s your reason?” Your eyes flickered up to meet Kylo’s after he spoke, trying to make sense of his question as your eyes unintentionally trailed over his face.

“My reason for what, Sir?” You eventually replied as you gave up trying to figure out what he was talking about. Why did he have to speak so cryptically? “You’re going to have to give me more than that – it could mean anything knowing you.” You smiled cheekily at him from your position at the end of his bed; this time he’d called you with a deep gash stretching up the side of his left leg. It looked incredibly painful, and you couldn’t comprehend how he was purposefully putting himself through this much pain just to see you – at least, that’s what you hoped he was doing, otherwise you were completely misreading this whole situation.

“You reason for joining the First Order.” Kylo spoke bluntly. “You’ve been fixing me up for months now, and yet I feel like we are still strangers to each other.” If you hadn’t just averted your gaze back to his leg, you might have noticed the corners of his lips twitch up into the slightest shadow of a smile – but it was gone as quickly as it came.

“Oh! Oh, right, of course.” You smiled. “Well, my father was the Chief Medical Officer when he was in the First Order, and on his breaks he’d always try and teach me as much as he could about medicine before my mother caught him teaching me things that were too gory or troubling for my ‘young eyes’.” You huffed out a laugh at the thought of your parents. “So I joined because I wanted to be a Doctor and to hopefully be the Chief Medical Officer myself one day – I love my father and I’d be proud to follow in his footsteps and be as half as successful as he was.”

“And I wouldn’t say we’re strangers – I mean I’m pretty familiar with your body by now.” Your eyes widened at the realisation of what you said, and you continued in slight panic. “Not like that! I didn’t mean it to sound like that at all, Sir, oh dear.” You sighed, deflated. “I look like such an idiot now.” You muttered under your breath, as you returned your efforts to applying some soothing balm to Kylo’s wound, and preparing the equipment you’d need to give him stitches.

“It’s alright.” Kylo peered down at his leg to try and see what you were doing. “I’m used to your tongue-tied manner of speaking by now.” You raised your eyebrows in surprise.

You let out a giggle at his attempt at a mild joke, and the rest of your visit was spent in friendly silence, dispersed with the occasional small talk.

 “Y/N!” You jerked upright in your seat, blinking rapidly as you came to your senses, the memory of one of your favourite interactions with Kylo fading from your mind. Yasmyn was staring at you in slight concern. “Are you alright? I’ve been trying to get your attention for a minute now.”

“Oh yes, sorry!” You sighed, running a hand through your hair distractedly. “I’m fine thanks, just a bit tired I guess.” You adjusted yourself on Yasmyn’s bed; the two of you were having your weekly girl’s night – or as girly as it could get aboard the ship.

“Something on your mind?” Yasmyn asked sympathetically as she finished braiding her long, dark hair. “Or someone?” She grinned at you, wiggling her eyebrows. “Maybe someone tall, dark and mysterious?”

“I wasn’t thinking about Kylo.” You chided firmly, trying not to let your blush be too visible. At least once every girl’s night the topic of Kylo Ren would be brought up, as Yasmyn was always eager to hear about what the you and Kylo had shared with each other, because ‘even though he’s practically the leader of our fleet, nobody knows anything about him, and the gossip on this ship is so dry, your relationship with Kylo is the only thing I have going right now’.

“I never said you were thinking about Kylo.” Yasmyn grinned triumphantly. “I only said you might be thinking about someone tall, dark and mysterious. I never said it was Kylo, Y/N. I never said-” She was cut off as you threw a pillow at her face in retaliation.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Another two months had gone by since Kylo’s incident with the ‘scavenger girl’ – although it was never too easy to tell the time in space, and you had gone from being someone relatively quiet and unknown except to those you worked with, to someone whose name was slowly being passed around the entire ship. This wasn’t your fault – you hated having more attention than was necessary – no, the only person you could blame for this sort of attention was none other than Kylo Ren.

Over these two months, he’d managed to amass a mysterious amounts of injuries – when you compared the sheer amount of times you’d been called in to the times he was off the ship or in training, you were finding it harder and harder to believe that Kylo wasn’t getting all these injuries on purpose. But try as you might, you couldn’t really complain about it, as every time that you were called to assist Kylo, the more you got to know him, and the more you opened up to him.

But the closer the two of you grew, the more the rumours started to spread around the ship; and they were very clearly not in your favour. Because the more you were sent to assist Kylo, the more your co-workers noticed, and the nosier they all got; every time you returned from a trip to Kylo’s room you were crowded with questions from those closer to you, and judgemental and resentful glances from everyone else.

By now, whether because of these rumours or not, you’d got a reputation for yourself, and had even been personally called by other high-ranking officers to personally assist them – if you were good enough for Kylo Ren, then you were good enough for them. And that was actually how you got yourself into the situation that you were currently in. You were currently attending a very important meeting regarding a mission that would put quite a lot of Stormtroopers at risk, so you had also brought various medical records and lists of all the medical equipment on-board the ship. You had also had to evaluate the percentages of how many soldiers would either die or be seriously injured, so the rest of the medical team could prepare the right amount of equipment.

When the meeting was originally arranged, it was supposed to be attended by the Chief Medical Officer, however he was needed elsewhere; he had an emergency surgery that he needed to attend, and he trusted you out of all the other medics to cover for him. Possibly because he knew Kylo…favoured you over everyone else.

“So,” General Hux spoke up, finally starting the meeting. “The attack on the rebel base will begin with at least a quarter of the soldiers on-board, as we currently only have a rough estimate of just how many rebel soldiers are hiding out in that base.” You nodded, typing out quick notes on your personal padd for later.

“We’ll most likely be sending about one third or our forces down to begin with – enough to scare the rebel forces and if needed we can send in reinforcements.” Hux moved tiny digital figures about on a screen, illustrating where each group of the forces would be positioned to attack the base. “The rest of the fleet will be on standby in case a new strategy is required and a temporary retreat is needed. I would hope that our forces aren’t pathetic enough for us to even consider retreating.” He turned abruptly, eyeing you haughtily. “Do we have sufficient medical supplies for the foreseeable casualties?”

You looked up nervously from your padd – you’d been making rough notes about this most recent plan so you could report back to your boss and he could begin to prepare everything.

“Yes, General Hux, I do believe that we have enough supplies.” You pulled yourself together, trying not to ‘um’ and ‘err’ your way through your sentence. “But of course, I will send all the necessary figures to my superior as I do not have full access to all our equipment, and in the case that there are any supplies we may be short on.” You added as an afterthought – if there was anything that needed to be ordered you didn’t want the responsibility to be solely yours. “One third of the forces was it? And the rest on standby…” You re-capped while scribbling down extra notes. “And my superior sends his most sincere apologies that he could not be here instead of me.”

“No matter.” General Hux waved away your apology indifferently. “As long as all information gets relayed I could not care less who is here in his stead.” And with that, he continued with explaining the various stages of the attack.

Then, just as you were retreating slightly back into the mass of officers crowded around the main screen, you heard someone speak under their breath; ‘Well, it won’t be long until she does have authority to all our medical supplies, considering she’s been sleeping her way to the top with Ren. And then who knows how irresponsibly she’d use our supplies.”

You stop where you stand, feeling a flush creep up your face, turning it bright red in embarrassment. You could see those nearest to you glancing in your direction with obvious distain and disapproval, as if they were imagining a future where you were in some ways their superior. You could hear whispers on every side, many of them agreeing with the nameless whisperer, and you finally opened your mouth to defend yourself, when-

“I hope you’re not insinuating that I, the descendant of Darth Vader, would be capable of behaving like a common whore on my ship.” Kylo’s cold, slightly robotic voice echoed loudly across the room, silencing everyone, including General Hux. Nobody dared to speak, and you stood frozen in a mix of fear and embarrassment. “Because that’s certainly what it sounded like, Lieutenant Kendell.” At this, a few people subtly turned their heads in the direction of the offending statement, and you turned to see a relatively weedy looking man visibly shrink away from Kylo.

“I- of course, no sir, I didn’t mean to offend you-” You watched him backtrack, stammering over his response as Kylo simply stood, watching him. “I-I simply wish to see our forces grow and thrive, and was only remarking that this medic would not be our best way of seeing this happen – I mean she may be far too inexperienced for such a role-”

“So you assume she is using me to gain status? Her family name far outranks yours in any case, Lieutenant, so such foolish thoughts are unnecessary.” Kylo interrupted, and the room seemed to grow darker. “You assumed that I would succumb to any such advances?” He took one single step towards the unfortunate Lieutenant. “You forget your place, Lieutenant. It would be wise not to do so again in the future. It would be unfortunate to lose a member of our staff because of such a foolish mistake.” With this threat hanging in the air, he turned, cape flowing dramatically behind him, to face Hux, who continued his speech.

As everyone began to settle down, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander as you replayed the conflict. You weren’t hurt by Kylo’s behaviour, more confused that he would go out of his way to seemingly defend your honour – you assumed he wouldn’t want people to know that the two of you were even relatively acquainted. You mulled over your thoughts, confusion fogging your mind as you absentmindedly followed suite and exited the room amidst the other officers, heading back to the med-wing.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Later that day, after you’d relayed all information back to your boss, and sent him the notes you’d made, you finally made the journey back to your room. Luckily, it was your day off tomorrow, so you could afford to have a nice, relaxing shower that would hopefully clear your mind of the stresses of the day.

Eventually, when you’d got out of the shower and put on less formal clothes, (not quite pyjamas – these were your own clothes so your evening consisted of leggings and an oversized shirt) you just so happened to check your padd for any messages from Yas, when you saw a message in your inbox that was unread. Upon checking it, your blood ran cold – it had been sent 8 minutes ago, and it was from Kylo himself. Not another officer messaging on his behalf, but from Kylo himself.

You sat bolt upright from where you had been reclining in bed, and double checked the message. It was from Kylo alright, and it had been sent-

“Eight minutes ago?!” You shrieked, hurriedly scrambling to your feet, shoving your feet in your usual uniformed shoes, pulling on a long cardigan and rushing out of your room. It took you longer than eight minutes to get to Kylo’s chambers, but it was a decent enough amount of delay from the time the message was sent to when you actually saw it, that Kylo would be sure to notice that you were eight minutes later than you should have been. He didn’t even set a time; he had simply requested your presence in his chamber, but the underlying message was that your presence was to be requested immediately.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

About fifteen minutes later, you skidded to a halt outside Kylo’s chambers, having run most of the way there. You frantically tried to catch your breath as you smoothed your hair, trying to appear as though you hadn’t spent the last fifteen minutes worrying that your lungs were going to explode. You introduced yourself to the guards outside Kylo’s room, and no sooner than you spoke the door slid open, one of the guards gesturing for you to go through.

“You’re late.” Kylo stated after the door had closed behind you. He was standing at his window, back to you, helmet off.

“My apologies, Sir.” You began, taking a few cautious steps forwards. “I was…well, occupied at the time that you sent the message. Believe me, I would have come sooner if I had seen your request sooner-”

“Occupied?” Kylo turned to face you, his expression impassive as ever; his interrupting statement, rather than question lingering in the air. “I was under the impression that once your shift was over you no longer need to be occupied.”

“Um...” You flushed slightly, subconsciously running a hand through your damp hair. “Occupied…in my shower?” You avoided his burning stare. There was silence for a moment, as if Kylo was trying to determine whether or not he believed you without delving too deep into your mind.

“You are excused of your tardiness this time.” He eventually spoke, and you relaxed slightly.

“If I may, Sir, why did you want me here?” You ventured, rocking back and forth on your heels as you glanced around the (now) familiar room. “If it’s to do with the comments made in the meeting earlier, I apologise if I’ve done anything to-to damage your reputation-”

“If anyone was going to ruin my reputation, it would not be you.” He cut in coolly. “You are not exactly in a position to do so.” He gestured to a chair set out in front of his desk. “Sit. We have much to discuss.” You did as he said, shifting around on the surprisingly soft seat, trying to get comfortable. He too, sat down in a chair he seemingly pulled out of the shadows of his room.

“If you think it is better for not to…run into each other more often, Sir, I understand that.” You started, leaning forwards in your seat. “I feel like rumours about-” you paused, unsure if you could refer to whatever the two of you were as ‘us’, but decided to go with it anyway. “Us, have been following me for almost a week now and it could ruin any chance I have of becoming Chief Medical Officer because everyone thinks I just sleep around and haven’t earned my place because of my family name.” You continued in frustration. “And it doesn’t help that, no offence, you seem to acquire a range of injuries from who knows where, and nobody else seems to want to take up the job because they’re convinced we’re having an affair or something – I’m lucky my boss is sympathetic towards me otherwise I could have lost my job or been demoted by now.” The words seemed to tumble from your lips, unending.

“You think my situation is any better?” Kylo stood, beginning to pace around the room. “I have the power of the Force, I can easily tell what people are thinking, and they do little to conceal their thoughts in my presence.” He spun on his heel, his bulking form towering over you. “I will not be taken for a fool by those pathetic enough to believe such rumours. I will not let them defile my name and my presence, or yours-” he cut himself off as his voice grew louder in anger. You stood as well, anxiously wringing your hands.

“I appreciate that, Sir.” You said quietly. “I know what’s on the line for you, and I’m sorry that it got this far. Maybe it would be better for a different medic to attend to your many injuries.” You felt more dejected than you probably should – after all this was a professional relationship.

“That won’t be necessary. While I am sure your co-workers are capable at doing their job, I know that you are most familiar with what antidotes work with my body and what do not.” Kylo dismissed your suggestion.

“Well what do you suggest?” You asked, a hint of exasperation in your tone. “While I do enjoy your company, Sir, I don’t want our meetings to affect your image.” There was a pause as Kylo took in your words.

“No. I will not be bullied by my insubordinates.” You heard him say, almost to himself. “We shouldn’t even be having this conversation; I don’t need to please the rest of the fleet – I just need them to win me this fight against the rebellion.” He strode to stand in front of you, and you gazed up at him. “I should not have to change my behaviour for them, and neither should you.” You opened your mouth in protest.

“But Sir, I-”

“You are under my protection. If there is anyone giving you trouble, you will report it straight to me.” He stood tall, not like that was hard for him to do, and you swallowed heavily, in awe of the sheer power he radiated. “That is an order. Do you understand?” His voice grew quieter at the end of his sentence; but he was no less grand.

“Yes, Sir.” You replied, suddenly finding it difficult to speak clearly, a smile visible on your face for the first time that day. “Thank you, Sir.”

“I think we’re past the use of such formalities, considering that today you’ve been accused of sleeping your way to power and I have been accused of doing such with someone of a lower station.” He said smoothly, his face as clear of emotion as ever.

“How else should I address you?” You asked, slightly flustered. (And slightly stung by the ‘lower station’ jab but it was the truth.) This must be one of the most bizarre days of my life, you thought to yourself, mind racing.

“You strike me as an intelligent woman, Officer Y/N; surely you do not need me to spell it out for you. Obviously the usual title when others are present.” He said, now walking you towards his door, hands behind his back, his form looming over yours. “Just because I allowed you to address me as such in private, I must remind you I will not be as lenient when we are in public.” He said placidly.

You nodded in acknowledgement. Kylo it is then – that was the only less formal title that you could think of. “Of course. I wouldn't dream of doing any such thing, Kylo.” You saw the left corner of his mouth twitch ever so slightly at your words as he opened the door, allowing you to step through. “I do hope you don't over-exert yourself in training, or do anything to worsen your injuries.” You called as you started to walk back down the corridor. “It would be a shame to meet again so prematurely.” For one of the most feared men in the galaxy, he isn’t nearly as subtle as he thinks, your smile widening as you walk back in the direction of your room, and you could have sworn you heard a chuckle echo down the corridor behind you.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Taglist: @ah-callie​

(also tagging @joscelyn02​ - just in case you wanted to know when the next part was out :) )

[shinydelirium]

MLQC Season 2 Chapter 15 (Kiro’s Chapter) Part 6 [Eager Move] Translation [CN]

***SPOILERS*** DO NOT READ IF YOU DO NOT WANT TO BE SPOILED!!!

For the previous translations of chapter 15: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4. Part 5

[Eager Move]

When we hurried back to the fire control room, the two people were already gone.

Sure enough, a metal object is glued to the side of the console and the countdown shows that there are more than six minutes left.

Helios sat down without saying a word, opened a program on the computer, and started typing on the keyboard proficiently.

MC: Do you also write code as a hacker?

Even if time is urgent, I can’t help but want to tease him as I watched him sitting so calmly in front of the computer.

Helios: Go out the door and then ask again when you come back.

MC:…Let me change the question. Can hackers still use programs to dismantle bombs?

Helios: Give me five minutes.

I was relieved.

Helios: But I am not dismantling the bomb.

I stood still in the same place, but after a while I realized what he meant and couldn’t help but raise my voice.

MC: What are you doing now?!

Helios: The hunter game has been disrupted. Joker will definitely think of a way of getting the game’s program back.

Helios: The computer I left on purpose was just a decoy.

Helios: Once they connect to this computer, the other party’s program can be hacked and locked by me.

MC: Haven’t you hacked the entire hunter game before? Why invade the other party’s program?

His fingers paused, and then he began to type quickly.

Helios: Not the whole game. The other party still has control over the collar.

Helios: The data of the collar is more complicated than the program of the game system and many layers of “firewalls” are added.

I was stunned for a moment and I couldn’t help but rub my neck nervously with my fingers. He was right, the “ghost” collar was indeed in working condition.

Helios: The principle of ghost “catch people” is probably similar to NFC technology.

Hearing this obscure terminology, I didn’t understand it but I didn’t interrupt him to ask.

Helios: When “ghost” and “human” come into contact, the “ghost” collar will automatically send its coordinates to the system.

Helios: After the terminal confirms the coordinates, the teenager responsible for the transmission can transfer the “human” directly.

MC: In other words, if the collar problem is not solved, the “ghost” will still disappear when it meets the “person”.

Helios: But now the game is in my hands, even if their collars are still there, they can’t keep the game going.

MC: And so…

Helios: What they want to do now is to take back the initiative of the game but the problem is that they can’t determine my IP address.

Helios: So they can only use a fool’s way.

MC: Come to you directly?

Helios: To be precise, I want to directly connect to their own program through my computer, so as to crack the program from the inside.

Helios: And this is exactly what I want.

Helios: They overestimated themselves and opened the last door that was locked.

Helios’ fingers on the keyboard moved quickly and a string of codes laid out before his eyes.

MC: So when they find that the program is locked, they will know that this is a trap…

MC: And decided to destroy this place!

He nodded, speeding up his hand.

I glanced at the only four minutes left on the bomb and then returned my gaze to Helios.

He pressed his lips tightly and locked his eyes on the screen. Lines of incomprehensible codes landed on the screen with his fingertips.

I held my shaky breath, tried to calm down, and stopped talking in order to not disturb him.

Since he did not choose to leave, it means that he is sure to crack the program while ensuring our safety.

Helios: How much time left on the bomb?

MC: Three minutes and 56 seconds.

Helios: All right.

As he said that, he pressed the Enter key firmly, and at the same time, my collar made a beeping sound.

There was a tingling pain in my neck and the collar automatically injected me with a potion.

Everything happened so fast that I didn’t have time to react. I saw him get up and come to me. He did not speak but only reached out to me.

This seems to be Helios, reaching out to me solemnly for the first time.

He doesn’t seem to just want to prove to me that the collar has been cracked.

I looked at those azure blue eyes, those bright eyes that were always full of smiles were so peaceful at this moment.

Perhaps since he decided to take me back here with him, he has been tentatively confirming  and testing when he cracked the program in front of me.

This is actually an invitation, a middle question, a step he took slightly.

And only I have the answer.

I put my hand in his palm without hesitation.

The moment the skin’s warmth came through the fingertips, something started to disintegrate.

--The silver-white arc did not appear and Helios was still standing in front of me.

He then raised his other hand and quickly pressed it behind my collar. The collar was removed smoothly.

The weight in my heart fell instantly and I smiled at him excitedly.

MC: I knew you would succeed!

Helios: We’re leaving.

He pulled me and ran to the safe passage.

I can’t see his expression but I can clearly feel his hand gradually tighten and the reassuring warmth wraps around my fingers.

As long as he is here, there is nothing terrible about all of this.

Following the safe passage, Helios and I ran out of the underground parking lot again.

We walked non-stop through the messy hall and the door of the mall was right in front of us.

Before I could breathe a sigh of relief, a loud sound suddenly came from the soles of my feet and dust particles mixed in the air rushed towards my face, and I instinctively squinted my eyes.

The ground beneath us seemed to be uneven and shook violently with an ear-splitting boom.

Helios: Hold on to me.

The world is spinning around and the strength on my hand tightens a bit.

In an instant, the surrounding window glass shattered from the strong vibrations and the huge display in the middle of the mall, mixed with cracked reinforced concrete, came crashing down.

The billowing smoke was like a dust storm, which made me unable to keep my eyes open.

They only wanted to blow up the fire control room. The mini-bomb was not enough to destroy the entire department store building.

We were sitting next to a huge concrete pillar and the sharp ringing screamed in our heads, and bursts of dizziness swept through one after another.

I reflexively wanted to turn around to see Helios’ condition, but at this moment I felt my ears being firmly covered by a pair of warm hands.

MC: Helios, what are you….

Although the sharp noise could not be completely isolated, it was more or less blocked with those hands.

The whole world is muffled under his palms and I can even hear my rapid breathing and heartbeat more clearly.

He held my body so tightly that I couldn’t turn around.

MC: …What happened to you? Is something wrong?

Helios: Wait a while…

Helios: Just wait…

His voice seems to come from far away, disconnected, hidden in the sound of falling objects, making it impossible to hear.

On the surface of the broken glass, I could vaguely see his expression. The moment I saw it clearly, I was stunned.

I have never seen Helios show that expression.

His pupils were slightly dilated, his eyes lost their focus in panic and horror, and his lips seemed to be trembling a little bit.

He covered my ears rigorously, like an involuntary action.

I want to make a joke to comfort him. Tell him that I am not injured and he doesn’t need to overreact.

But seeing him like this, a ridiculous thought came to me for no apparent reason---

This seemingly abrupt movement seemed to be of great significance to him at this moment.

As if…this action can really protect me.

The sound of falling objects continued and all of this was concealed by him, leaving only noisy ringing.

My previous guess back in the utility room is more clearly engraved in my mind at this time.

First, it was that one-way message with the phone, the lip-reading book in the ward, the avoidance whenever I asked him questions directly….***This one was quite a challenge to translate cuz Google Translate is weird so I did my own interpretation based on what has happened and MC’s mindset. Basically, MC never found out about Kiro’s hearing loss so now she’s starting to get an idea based on Helios’ actions during this scene.***

And the strange earphones in his ears after Helios appeared…

All the details that I can’t figure out and felt strange are like puzzle pieces. Finally, I was able to put together a complete answer.

An answer that I dare not say easily.

There seemed to be a heavy, sinking feeling in my heart and my chest felt a tingling pain as I breathed.

Kiro’s ears…

I didn’t dare to think about it anymore, but there was a burst of discomfort in my nose.

His silence was the most sufficient reason at this moment.

It’s not that he doesn’t trust me enough, or that he doesn’t want to shoulder heavy responsibilities alone.

He was just scared.

His whole world has changed, becoming silent and unbalanced.

The dizziness gradually subsided and I raised my hand to cover his which were a bit stiff because of too much force.

MC: Helios, there is something wrong with your ears.

This sentence is not an interrogative sentence.

The moment he heard me speak, his fingers shook.

I closed my eyes, but his blue eyes still appeared in front of me.

There is a deep pain in those deliberately cold eyes. Why didn’t I find out earlier?

How can Kiro, who always pursues perfection, accept such a self?

That’s why he ran and stayed away.

It is not so much that he is unwilling to accept that he is not perfect but more like, it is better to say that he wants “Kiro” to always be the most perfect image.

That is his pride.

MC: Kiro…

I couldn’t help but call his name in a low voice and my hands seemed to react and suddenly they withdrew.

When I turned around, the anxiety in those eyes had been extinguished, and there was silence once again.

“Click—”

The door of the mall made a slight noise, and then the door was slowly opened, interrupting what I wanted to say.

Helios immediately guarded me vigilantly.

Unhurried footsteps sounded outside the door and three figures appeared from the darkness.

??: Oh, it’s you.

Helios nimbly stood up, watching them with a cold expression without saying a word.

I saw the person coming and gasped. I lightly touched the corner of his clothes and whispered to him.

MC: Helios, he is Joker.

-End of Part 6-

Continue to Part 7 aka “Showdown: Helios vs. Joker”