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pyramid-of-starrs · 6 months

Note

10 from your kinktober list please! 🥰🥰

Plan B

Kinktober request: 10 Fuckboy Mingi, Breeding

Pairing: Fuckboy Mingi x Fem reader

Summary: You and your best friend Hongjoong go to Wooyoungs annual Halloween party, when you're alone you spot your ex and run into a new person instead.

Word Count: 5K

Kink: Breeding kink

Warning: Breeding, toxic guy behavior, plan B mentioned.

A/N: Idk why I made this super long but enjoy lol, I wanna finish up my kinktober request!

Minors dni

"'Scuse me, what kinda candy is in that box? My mommy says I can pick whatever candy for da trick or treaters!" A cute little girl dressed as a princess asked you. You looked down at her slightly startled by her when she tugged your jacket. You stood awkwardly and looked at her and back at the small blue box in your hand, and it definitely wasn't candy, it was a plan B.

"O-oh no... um it's a special adult candy you take after an oopsie with a boy they should have never oopsied with." You said, why on earth didn't you just say no? Your brain was just scrambled after the party from last, while it was amazing there was absolutely some mistakes made in the process of living your best life.

...

You got a text from your best friend Hongjoong about making sure to be ready by 10pm so he could pick you up to go to Wooyoungs annual Halloween party, the best party of the year everyone at your college raved about it. This year you wanted to be sexy but cool and chose to be D.va from overwatch, the bodycon spandex suit showing off your perfect ass and plump breast, you were bound to catch someone’s eye. Your phone rang at 9:43pm and you answered knowing exactly who it was. "I'm coming out now." You said then hung up, you grabbed your jacket and put on your boots and met Hongjoong at his car and got in the front. Once inside you saw him dressed a simple vampire.

"What the fuck Joong, I thought we were being sexy and cool." You said taking off your bunny ears so you could comfortably fit in the car.

"Vampires are sexy and cool, what the hell even is your costume?" he asked as he pulled off.

"I'm D.va from overwatch, thank you." You rolled your eyes.

"What the hell is overwatch??" His eyes darting around in confusion.

"Whatever it doesn't matter if you recognize me, as long as the hoes get it."

"Oh god here we go again with this hoes thing, you've been saying you were going to do a one-night stand with someone and never do cause you're still all hung up over Jongh-"

"HE WHO SHALL NOT BE NAMED." You interrupted him and said, you didn't want to spend another one of your nights sad about your ex Jongho.

"Fine, we're here anyways." Hongjoong parked a bit away from the packed party, you two exited the car and walked to the house party ready for an eventful night. Once inside you paid the entry fee and looked around to see everyone in their costumes and having fun drinking, dancing, smoking and socializing.

"Hongjoong, Y/N, you made it! " A familiar voice said, you both looked over to see the man of the hour Wooyoung dressed as a very sexy Harry potter, fuck if Hongjoong didn't make you follow his new dumb rule of not being allowed to date his friends after the break up with Jongho you would have fucked Wooyoung right then and there. He patted Hongjoongs back and hugged you leaving a pleasant smell of his cologne in the air, his eyes traveled up and down your body. "Lemme guess, D.va? Overwatch?”

Your face got hot, and you felt a bit shy under his gaze. “Yeah, do you play?”

“Kinda, my bro San plays more than me but if hot girls like yourself like you or online then I’ll absolutely be getting on more often” he said winking at you. Hongjoong looked at you two and noticed the tension and rolled his eyes and grabbed your hand.

“Yeah, anyways bro we’re going to grab a drink.” Hongjoong started pulling you away and Wooyoung giggled and waved.

“Bye Y/N.”

“Bye Wooyoung” you gave him a goofy little smile and continued to be pulled to the kitchen.

“Remember the fucking Rule Y/N! I want friends that have never seen you naked.” He pulled you two in front of the punch bowl of jungle juice and started making you both a cup of the mix of liquor and juice.

“I know Hongjoong I know.” You took the cup from him and started to drink with him you both pulled the cup from your lips and made a face.

“Jesus fucking Christ is that just sugar and liquor” Hongjoong said as his face was still twisted you both laughed.

Another person laughed and you both looked up to see Seonghwa dressed as Tom Nook from animal crossing.

“Hwa hey!” You walked over to hug him.

Hongjoong just smiled a bit and waved. Seonghwa was Wooyoungs friend from high school that you and Hongjoong met a few times and Hongjoong had the hugest crush on him. You smirked at him averting his eyes and his ears turning red.

“You too look adorable by the way.” Seonghwa said after hugging you back.

“Thank you Hwa, I think Hongjoong makes a very handsome Vampire, amiright?” You looked over at him shooting you daggers.

“Oh absolutely, you look really good in a cape Joong.” He smiled at the shorter male.

Hongjoong averted his eyes again and rubbed his neck. “Ah, thanks you look nice too…”

“I hope I don’t look nice enough to bite.” Seonghwa bit his lip then looked up at Hongjoong while taking a sip of his drink. You had a cocky grin because you’ve been trying to get Hongjoong to make a move. Hongjoong awkwardly laughed and you covered your face with your cup to hide your 2nd hand embarrassment.

“Well, I’m gonna go scout the scene.” You said trying to be anywhere but there and to give them some space.

“Oh, I’ll come with-“

“No! I gotta be alone to find the cute guys Joong, you’ll scare the hoes” you and Seonghwa laughed, and you walked away and deeper into the party. As you scoped the scene you noticed a pretty good variety of guys but no one that caught your eyes. But then your heart dropped at the worse possible scenario when you reached the back rooms. In the sea of people, you saw a purple head of hair that made your chest puff in and out with anxiety, why him and why here? There Jongho was dressed in his normal clothes with bear ears, he wasn't big on dressing up for Halloween or parties so to seem him standing in the corner with his arm around the waist of another girl. Your heart pounded and your breath was short, you wanted to escape him, wanted to escape this room, escape feeling sad and crying about him. Watching him flirt and touch girls hurt you a bit. You bit your lip to hold back the tears but started to fail. Jongho looked up from his conversation to see you fighting back your emotions and stealing glances of him. He told the girl to give him a second and started making his way over to you. You panicked seeing him coming and quickly wiped your eyes and ran out the room.

You pushed pass the party goers just looking for somewhere to go, you went upstairs into one of the bedrooms and quickly slammed the door. You back away looking at the door hoping that he didn't find you then you bump into something. When you turned around you jumped seeing you didn't bump into something you bumped into someone.

"Oh my god I'm so sorry, is this your room ?" you said apologetically.

The tall silent man dressed as Gojo from jujitsu kaisen just stood there and chuckled.

"You're good, yeah this is my room, did you need something? You know you're pretty far from the party, I even turned my light off so no one would find me." The man said.

Now that you checked your surroundings you realized the bedroom was dark and only lit by the moonlight outside, the party music could barely be heard since the room was in the back of the house. Once you finished scanning the surroundings you finally get a good look at the man whose room you invaded. You got a bit shy when your eyes panned up his tall frame to notice the fairly handsome man with grey hair and black glasses sitting on his forehead to complete his cosplay.

"I hope you're staring because I look good and not because you think I look lame." he said shaking you out of your thought.

"No! You look good, like really good, you're Gojo right?" you asked.

"Oh, I love a woman that knows her anime, and video games." His eyes traced over your figure as he studied your costume along with the way the cosplay hugged your body in all the right places. "Yeah, you'll absolutely do for the night." he whispered to himself lowly. "So, what brings you up to my room?"

"Well, it's kinda dumb but I was running... from my ex." you said embarrassed now that you heard how ridiculous that sounded.

"Damn I get that, I'm Mingi by the way." Mingi said reaching out his hand.

"I'm Y/N" You shook his large hand.

“I was just about to head down but since I have someone with me now you wanna stay in chill with me? I got some real liquor here." He smiled slyly then took a seat on his slightly messy bed he reached next to him and grabbed the bottle of tequila sitting next to his bed, your heart thumped a bit but then you remembered you were here with someone.

"I think I have to check on my friend though, let me text them to see where he is." you pulled out your phone to text Hongjoong then realized he actually texted you 10 minutes ago.

Hongjoong: Hey, Seonghwa wanted to see my studio I built so I took him. Tell Woo to give you a ride home and don't fuck him. Call me when you're home.

You chuckled at the text knowing that Hongjoong was going to have a nice long night. "Never mind, I guess I can hang for a bit" You sat down on the bed a bit further then him. He looked over to see you sitting far and laughed.

"I won't bite unless you tell me too doll, sit closer." He waved you to come closer with his two long fingers and you inched a bit closer, not moving by much. "Some more" you got a bit closer again. "More." he smiled as he grabbed two solo red cups to pour shots for the both of you. When you still barely moved Mingi decided to take matters into his own hands, he put the cups on the floor and hooked his arm around your waist to pull you in. You were sitting thigh to thigh at that point, your face was hot. "Much better." He grabbed the cups again and handed you yours.

"I-I didn't know you meant this close." You said shyly.

"Of course, pretty girl like you I would want right next to me, lucky I didn't pull you in my lap." he winked then held his cup next to your to do a quick cheers to take the shot. You tap his cup then you both chugged down the alcohol. The burning in your chest was strong as the bitter taste sat on your tongue and throat. Mingi took out his phone and played some hip-hop and RnB at a low volume. You both took more shots and sat and talked more as the night progressed. The party downstairs was still going but it started to die down as more chill music was playing downstairs as well. The more liquor you drank the more you remembered why you didn't drink tequila straight. Your pussy was throbbing and sitting alone with this beautiful man, his deep voice and his plump and soft looking lips didn't help. You've known Wooyoung a whole year and was wondering where he was hiding this fine ass man this whole time. The burning between your legs got worse the more you listened to him talk and you tried to rub your thighs together a bit to cool it, your eyes kept drifting to his lips and Mingi noticed you losing attention and fidgeting.

"You okay Y/N?" He smiled at you, and it fueled the fire burning below.

"You're like... really sexy Mingi." You both laughed at your sudden remark.

"Oh really? What's sexy about me?" Mingi said in his deep voice as he finished what was in his cup.

"Your voice, your face, anime, video game knowledge, I bet you get lots of girls."

"Nah not really. People look at Woo and the rest of our friends but not really me." Mingi replied, that was a lie of course, no girl in their right mind would pass up a 6'1 man that has Mingis face, but you didn't need to know that.

"Whaaat? No way you're so damn sexy Mingi I would be all over you if I was them." You said also finishing your cup, the liquid courage you had was getting you in some trouble tonight.

"All over me doing what exactly?" He grabbed your chin and brought your face closer, the smell of tequila fresh on both of you, Mingi had an agenda tonight for sure, He was going to go down to the party after pregaming with a few other girls that just left his room but once he turned off his desk light and was about to head down you came in. No need to go looking for pussy when it walked right up to him.

You both looked into each other’s lustful eyes as Mingi bit his pillowy soft lips. "Whatever you tell me too." was all you could say, a cocky grin spread across Mingis face, he had you right where he wanted you.

"Oh, really baby?" he asked, you eagerly nodded as you got closer to him wanting to taste his lips. Mingi saw how needy you were and decided not to make you wait anymore, he brought your lips closer until they connected, the kissed tasted bittersweet from the liquor and chasers you both had been consuming in your time spent together. The kiss was literally intoxicating, your head spun as he took the lead, his large hands moving to your thighs to grip your flesh in your spandex suit, you could feel the heat between your legs getting more needy for his touch. You decided to do the same and palm Mingi over his black cargo pants he was wearing to get a feel of his hard member. You couldn't really believe what you were feeling, you assumed it was either his pants or Mingi was hung, his steadily growing dick was already thick but as it got bigger in your pants your heart started to race in excitement. Mingi pulled back from the kiss and smiled at you.

"How about you get on your knees and feel what your grabbing baby." He said, you nodded again and moved to the floor, Mingi spread his long legs so you could slot yourself between them. He pulled his pants down a bit then his underwear until his dick happily sprung out in front of you. You were stunned, this easily was the biggest dick you've seen, it was girthy and had an overly generous amount of length to it.

"Holy shit you're big everywhere." You said to yourself by Mingi overheard you and laughed. He gripped your hair with one hand and gripped his dick with the other hand.

"Well let's see how much you can fit in that pretty little mouth baby." he pulled your head down on to his length and you immediately gagged, and he let your hair go to allow you to do what you want. You held the base of his dick and bobbed your head up and down it. To say that it was a mouthful was an understatement, it felt like your mouth was stretching from his girth, the saliva and gagging was a beautiful sight for Mingi.

"Taking my dick in your mouth so well baby." He hissed as you continued to drool down his shaft uncontrollably, you were only able to reach a little past half his length before his tip hit the back of your throat, Mingi dropped his head back as he whispered curse words while you struggled to stuff your little mouth full of his fat cock. You looked up at him and he was even more gorgeous while he fell apart from the feeling of your warm throat, he brought his head back up to meet you gaze and smiled.

“You’re so pretty with my dick in your throat baby, let’s see how pretty you are with it in your pussy.” He palmed the top of your head to remove your mouth from his dick, an audible popping noise following your lips. “Stand up and take your suit off for me baby, I don’t wanna ruin anymore of your costume.” You wondered what he was talking about until you glanced over at the full body mirror in his room to see the tear and spit stains that made your eye and cheek make up smear, not to mention your lipstick was almost completely gone. You reached your hand up to the zipper in front of your suit to slowly pull it down to reveal your soft body underneath. Stepping out of your suit you had on just panties since the suit was bodycon and made your tits sit nicely on their own, you were a bit shy standing in front of Mingi in just panties and covered your chest.

“Aww c’mon pretty don’t get shy on me now, come sit right here.” Mingi said patting his lap after he removed the remainder of his outfit. You decided to take off your panties and took a seat on Mingis bare lap facing the same way as him, the feeling of his throbbing hot dick just waiting to destroy your pussy made you scared but excited, he replaced your hands on your boobs and started to mush your mounds around, being sure to rub gentle circles on your hard nipples. He kissed up your neck while quietly breathy moans left your lips, the liquor still floating in your system was definitely on his side. His lips made it up to your ear as his lips kissed the shell of it, then he whispered softly. “Can I fuck your pretty pussy raw baby?” The thought of taking Mingis thick dick raw made your pussy pulsate, but it definitely was not a good idea to fuck a guy you just met a college party raw.

“Are you clean?” You ask bluntly, better safe than sorry.

“Of course, baby, I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t.” His lips continued to explore your neck and shoulders, one of his hands slid down your body to rub between your legs, coming dangerously close to where you needed him most.

“Well if you say so…” you said still a bit skeptical, his long fingers ran through your folds and rubbed circles on your clit, your eyes rolled back for a second from feeling the relief of his touch.

“You’re so wet already baby let me stuff you full of my cum.” He spread his legs which made your legs spread. “Stick it in for me baby.” You obeyed and connected the tip of his dick to your entrance and slowly sunk down on it, you usually could take dick like a porn star, but you never fucked a porn star dick like Mingis. The abundance of pleasure came with a slight stinging pain, but it was worth it once you took him all in and adjusted to his length.

Mingi gripped the underneath’s of your knees and bounced you on his length slowly to make sure you were comfortable and sped up the pace more and more.

“Oh my fucking God Mingi please you’re already fucking me too good.” You said between moans, you couldn’t even think straight with his huge cock pounding into you in this position.

“You like the way I fuck you baby? I gotta fuck you nice and deep so I can fill this pussy up with my cum.”

Okay this was the second time he has mentioned coming in you, though it was hot, and it was unlocking a secret breeding kink you didn't know you had maybe you should mention you're not on birth control.

"M-mingi, I'm not ah~ on the pill..." you managed to squeal out. Mingi lifted you knees more and continued to pound inside of you.

"That's fine baby we'll get a pill later."

Oh fuck he was serious about this, and it was turning you on more seeing how badly he wanted to cum in your pussy. Your walls started to tighten around him, wanting to milk his dick dry.

"You're tight little pussy wants my cum so bad baby, you must want me to get you nice and pregnant." he said in your ear, his words were going directly to your cunt as it throbbed harder, you moaned louder, the people that were still at the party and in the area for sure knew what was going on in that room as you yelled strings of curse words and Mingis name not caring who could hear you.

"Please give me all your babies Mingi." You were fucked out and just talking, Mingis huge dick was mixing your guts and hitting your cervix and that's all you could think of, you want, no, needed his cum to fill up your womb.

Suddenly Mingi pulled out and you whined at the lost friction, he put you on your back and slotted himself between your legs, then placed both your legs on his strong shoulders. He lined himself back up and plunged deeply in your pussy with no hesitation, you yelled out feeling his monster dick deep in your pussy again.

"Gotta breed you nice and full baby, this is the perfect position to get my cum deep in your womb." He said before he started to drill into your needy cunt, you couldn't help yourself from yelling out the obscenest things to come to mind. "I want you're cum so deep in me please" "I love your dick so much." "Please keep fucking me like this." and you felt no shame in the things you said. A dick has never had this much control or power over you, but you loved it for some reason.

"Mingi 'm gonna cum please." Mingi slowed his pace a bit then leaned forward pushing your legs to your chest as he laid in the crook of your neck then he started to deep dick fuck you, the head of his cock beating your cervix in the best way possible, you started to see stars. You wrapped your arms around his neck but couldn't stop fidgeting so you found yourself digging your nails into his shoulders, he squeezed your body closer to his large frame assuring that you had to take his entire load.

"Cum on my dick so I can make your belly full of my babies. I want your pussy to take every last drop of my seed." He pounded into you so fast and deep the bed frame shook violently, you stood no chance and coated his thick dick in your slick, feeling your walls squeeze him tightly made Mingi groan, he lasted a few more strokes then filled your walls and womb with his hot cum. Such a big dick of course his load would be just as big, you swore you felt your tummy bulging as he laid on top of you while his dick continued to shoot inside of you. Once he finished Mingi dropped on the side of you, both of you were sweaty and out of breath, Mingi didn't offer to clean you up or even attempt to move so you asked him for some spare clothes to go to the bath room to do it for yourself, you assumed he was too tired. You put on one of his jogging suits with nothing under neath and headed to the bathroom down the hall.

Once you washed your face of all make up and the rest of your body you headed downstairs, it was now 3:46am and the party turned into a chill hang out with still quite a few people around. You wanted to get a non-alcoholic drink for your dry and sore throat, once in the kitchen you grabbed a bottle of water and turned around to be met with your ex.

"Oh...Jongho, hey." you said awkwardly.

"Y/N, I've been looking for you, I saw you earlier and wanted to talk to you." He said looking over your outfit. "You're not wearing you're costume anymore, what happened?" he questioned.

"Well, I-" as you started to come up with an excuse or lie a large arm wrapped around your shoulder and pulled you into his t-shirt covered chest.

"Y/N there you are, I was waiting on you to come back baby." Mingi said pulling you in to a kiss, then his eyes looked over to Jongho. "Yo, names Mingi." Jongho’ s eye twitched a bit.

"Well, I see you're occupied, I'll talk to you later Y/N." Jongho said before walking off.

You and mingi looked at each other then laughed, Mingi took you back to his room to cuddle and sleep (And go for a few more rounds). The next afternoon you finally woke up at 12pm with a pounding headache and Mingi not in his bed. You figured he had something to do and collected your costume, texted Hongjoong to come pick you up then headed downstairs to do the walk of shame alone. Luckily it was only Wooyoung and one other male there, they noticed you walking down the stairs and you walked over to them.

"Well good afternoon gorgeous, I see someone had a good night." Wooyoung said smiling at you. "Who's the lucky guy?" He said as both the males looked at you.

"Um, I actually never met him, but he was one of your room mates, Mingi, he was super nice and said he was going to text me so he could take me out later." You had such a sweet smile on your face while Wooyoung and the other man’s face was quite the opposite.

"Weeelll um, I wouldn't hold my breath on that Y/N, but I'm glad your optimistic." Wooyoung said.

"Woo be straight up with her, Mingi isn't exactly, how can I say this, the dating type." The other one said.

"Who are you?" You asked.

"This is San, I was hoping to hook you guys up but looks like Mingi snagged ya first." Both the males chuckled.

"Anyway, Mingi is what most girls call a fuck boy, he tells you everything you wanna hear but never delivers." San said.

You thought about what they were saying, no way was the guy that talked to you for hours and cuddled you so warmly just a fuck boy right?

"Whatever you guys are just mean! My rides here I gotta go." They both laughed at your temper tantrum and waved you goodbye.

You walked out to the car to see Hongjoong in the driver seat and Seonghwa in the back, you smiled and got in the car.

"Well, well, looks like I'm not the only one that had an eventful night." you said teasing Hongjoong.

Seonghwa giggled and Hongjoong blushed "Shut up! Why did you need me to stop at a pharmacy before I took you home?"

"Well my night was SUPER, eventful if you get my drift." you said raising your eyebrows so Hongjoong would pick up on what you were saying.

"Ew, you let one of those guys hit it raw AND finish in you, I taught you better than this Y/N." He rolled his eyes in fake disgust and drove off.

"So how was it Y/N?" Seonghwa asked.

"It was fucking amazing, I've never had a huge one like that and god I couldn't even think straight." you replied, excited to tell someone about your endeavors.

"Wow, who was it with? Was it Wooyoung? He always says you're pretty but off limits, or did he finally introduce you to San?" Seonghwa said intrigued to know the answer.

"Neither, it was his other roommate, Mingi." You said smiling, Seonghwa made a face.

"Well, I'm glad you enjoyed yourself at least." He said it in a specific voice that you and Hongjoong picked up on.

"Why did you say it like that Hwa?" Hongjoong asked.

"It's just that Mingi is well... a free spirit, kinda goes where he wants and does what he wants."

"Oh god did you fuck the house fuckboy Y/N?" Hongjoong asked bluntly.

"No! Why does everyone keep saying that I know how to clock a fuck boy." you did however start to get nervous since you did text Mingi when you woke up saying how much you enjoyed last night and asking him for the money for the pill and all he replied was "GM" and only sent $23.

"Dammit Y/N how do you get involved with a fuck boy right after getting your heart broken." Hongjoong said as he pulled into the pharmacy.

Now there you were, standing in the pharmacy, holding a plan B, telling a child not to talk to fuck boys and having to have your male best friend send you the remaining amount to cover the pill. About a week had passed and you accepted that you had been fucked over and that you weren't getting that date after the 5th unanswered text, you sat in your studio apartment late that night since you stayed up to binge a show, it was around 2am then your phone buzzed, you checked your phone assuming it was Hongjoong.

Mingi: Hey baby u up?

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hellfire--cult · 6 months

Text

SoftDom!Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

wc: 4k

+18 MDNI, SOME fluff, smut, p in v, fingering, blowjob, rough sex, bondage, breeding kink, dirty talk, non-safe sex, reader being a bratty fiancé

Plot: The pandemic had its ups and downs. One of the good things it brought was the fact that your husband can forever work remotely from home. But you sometimes get a little needy.

A/N: Just filth. Pure filth.

please always reblog, thank you

HOME OFFICE

The pandemic had its ups and downs.

You for one, didn’t mind staying home, but you did miss your friends and family terribly. You’ve always worked online and remotely at home for a company outside the country, so that wasn’t something that changed for you like it did for many others.

In those many others, it includes your husband.

You thought he would return to the office as soon as it was declared that you could head outside, but no such thing happened. It seems that there’s more productivity from people working at home rather than going physically to the workplace. You don’t work 9-5 like your husband does, so you have time to clean the house a little bit, cook lunch and dinner.

He would always be so grateful for the food. Sometimes he would be in a meeting and you would come in very quietly and place the plate of food and a glass of water on the corner of the desk and then head out. Twenty minutes later your husband would rush out of the room as soon as the meeting was over to pepper your face in kisses as if to say thank you for the attention.

But there were times when your husband wasn’t having the best of days.

Working from home also stresses you out sometimes, because you are overwhelmed with stuff because, since you’re more productive, they give you more things to do. That’s just what they do to your poor husband. But there are times that he overworks himself just because he thinks he needs to.

Like today.

“Baby, you should’ve gotten off work two hours ago…” You cooed at him from the doorway, wearing a silk robe on your body and just that. For the past week your husband has not been paying attention to you, and it’s because he is just being a people pleaser.

“I’m just trying to finish this sheet sweetheart, promise I’ll get off soon.” That wasn’t the answer you wanted from him at all.

“Steve…” You were whining now, and his head turned to look at you for a second, and that’s when you saw the instant click in your husband’s eyes.

Your husband was overall sweet, and very dutiful. He was always considered the mom of your group of friends, even though you were right there. Always taking care of others before himself, and always being one step ahead of stuff in order to say ‘already took care of it’.

But there was a side that only you knew about your husband. You got to know it when you two were one year into the relationship, three years ago. You two had just moved in together, and you were cranky for not being able to sleep comfortably in your new bed, taking your time to adjust into it.

So of course, you were snappy at everything your husband did wrong, even if it was leaving the toilet seat up, or leaving one single used spoon in the sink. That night, you got to meet a side of your boyfriend you never expected from him, yet you were delighted, and your mood instantly got better afterwards.

This side of him is only triggered… when you’re being a brat.

“I am working. Don’t whine.” Steve said in a very stern voice, a voice that only ignited the heat between your legs even more than before. His eyes returned to the computer as he began typing away.

You licked the inside of your cheek and you strutted towards the desk which was in the middle of the room, putting both of your hands on the edge that was on the other side of him, and you leaned forward, looking down at your husband.

“I whine cause you haven’t been paying attention to me for the past week.” He only gave you one glance, not caring for how much you were showing your cleavage to him, and his eyes went back to the screen in front of him, his fingers never stopping from typing. You could see the reflection of the computer on his glasses, and it just irritated you even more.

“You know there’s always a week that I’m full of work. We’ll do whatever you want tomo–”

“Now!” You stomped your foot with a whiny cry, as if you were a child, but you were tired of being pent up because of this, and he closed his eyes with a sigh, but you could also hear a groan in his throat.

“Don’t be a fucking brat.” He called your name, a threat, and you straightened up after that, and he didn’t say anything else. He resumed his typing and you were angry. Seething. You had two options right here: One of them was to walk out of the room, take care of yourself in the room, and then go cook dinner…

Or…

You dropped on your knees and immediately crawled under the desk, finding his legs that were covered in grey sweatpants as your hands started from his ankles, and slowly gliding them up, biting your bottom lip as you reached his thighs. You heard him take a deep intake of breath, but the typing never stopped, which only made you even more frustrated.

You hummed as you reached his bulge, and you smirked as you found some hardness in the pants. You did rile him up when you walked into the room. You pressed your hand onto it and you felt him move, even if slightly, on his chair. You started rubbing onto it, slowly, and you could feel his cock getting harder by each stroke, a tent starting to form under the cloth.

Your hands then went to the hem of his pants and you bit your lip, not knowing if he will comply and help you take his sweatpants off, but as you tugged, you saw him raise his hips up and in a quick move you pulled both of the pants and boxers down, letting them pool around his ankles.

His dick sprung up, hitting on his stomach with a smack. You bit your lip as you scooted closer, your nails scratching onto his thighs as they moved up and up. He was still sitting straight as he typed away on his computer, but you didn’t care any longer. You just needed him in your mouth.

You leaned forward in order to spit right at the pink tip and then your hand ran all over it to gather your saliva, and use it as lubricant as you started pumping him, slowly, up and down, causing his dick to twitch in your hand as it became fully hard in your grip. A smile appeared on your lips as you heard the typing stop for a second and then resumed as if he had never stopped.

You then guided your mouth close to the tip, running your tongue all over the slit, and then you did the one thing that makes him crazy, which is licking on his frenulum, right under the head. You flicked on it going from side to side in a fast motion. You heard a growl above you, and you smirked as you finally took him into your mouth.

You used your hand in order to help yourself as you started bobbing your head up and down on him, slowly, at your own pace in order to taste him as you liked. The hint of saltiness started and you knew that he was starting to leak precum as you kept moving, your other hand grabbing onto his thigh for leverage.

You pulled him out of your mouth so you could press soft kisses along the shaft, to then lick from the bottom and up, giving a kiss to the head and then gliding your tongue onto the slit, giving a soft press there. You took him back into your mouth as you started becoming wetter at each bob of your head.

And then you heard it. Or well, you didn’t hear it anymore. The typing had stopped, and then a slam happened, making you pull away from him, hand still wrapped around his dick as you sat there, waiting for whatever was happening. He sat back on his chair and looked down at you underneath the desk.

You shivered as you looked up at your husband who had a frown in his eyebrows and his jaw was completely clenched, going slightly to the side that displayed his anger. His hand immediately went to the back of your head, grasping tightly onto the hair there, making you wince as he pulled your face towards his dick again, smashing it against your cheek.

“You want to be a slut? Fine. Put my cock back into your fucking mouth.”

You whined as you complied, opening your mouth to take him in again, but you couldn’t even wrap your hand around him to help you as you felt him guide your head down on him. He was being rough, and it almost hit the back of your throat, but he pulled on your hair to bring you back up again, only to make you plunge you back down again.

Your hands gripped onto his thighs as his other hand went to untie the tie that was on his neck. Just like everyone that works remotely does, he dresses nicely on his upper body, and then comfortably on his bottoms for the online meetings where his camera has to be on. He slid the black tie off and threw it on the desk as he kept bobbing your head up and down on him.

“You couldn’t fucking wait for a few more minutes.” You hummed against his cock as he put both of his hands now on each side of your head. “Through your nose.”

And you knew what this meant, so you started taking in air through your nose and that’s when he shoved your head down as he pushed his hips up at the same time, making him hit the back of your throat. Your eyes become teary as your face flushed, a gurgle of saliva vibrating in your throat as he pulled you back up and put his hips down, only to repeat the previous action again.

You were gagging on his cock as he throat fucked you intensely, feeling the walls of it already bruising from how rough he was being with you as he gripped onto your head, his fingers clenching on your hair. Your nails were digging into his thighs as you kept yourself on your knees.

“Look at those fucking tears.” You heard him chuckle in between his groans as his hips kept thrusting up into your mouth. “You wanted my cock, so you are going to take it how I like it.”

Said tears were running down your face like a waterfall from the intensity of it all, feeling your throat becoming sore and the gags were already making your stomach turn a little bit. You gave him a tap on his thigh and he took notice of that, stopping his movements all together, and pulling your head up.

You took a sharp intake of breath with a gasp. Saliva mixed with precum was sliding down from the corner of your lips as you huffed for air. His face came close to yours, and he didn’t even look fazed by what he had done to you.

“Color?” And behind the roughness, your husband was still there. The sweet husband that always took care of you first beyond everything else. You gulped in order to get saliva in your throat once more, letting you talk clearly.

“G-Green…”

He stood up abruptly from the chair, making it fall back behind him and he raised you up on your two feet by the hair. You yelped in pain but before you could continue with a whine, his lips clashed against yours. You moaned against the kiss and you wanted to wrap your arms around him, but you knew better than that, so you kept them dangling on your sides.

His tongue invaded your mouth without permission, making you whine in need and then you felt his hand rip open your silk robe, shoving it away from your body with his big hands. The chill air hitting your breasts, perking the nipples up instantly, hardening the bud. One of his hands immediately cupped one of your tits, and pinched onto the nipple, harshly.

You yelped onto his tongue and he chuckled as he moved his hand downwards while the other gripped onto your ass, pulling you closer. Your body was on fire as his fingers instantly found your clit, slowly moving them in circled motions and then went down in between your folds. He pulled away from you, finally letting you moan out into the room.

“So wet for me. Did sucking my dick turn you on this much?” You could only nod at him and then your eyes widened when he landed a slap against your clit, causing you to whimper. “Answer me.”

“Y-Yes–” You could only gasp as you felt two fingers plunging inside of you in one motion, and your hands shot up in order to hold onto his shoulders as you moaned out a cry at the sudden stretch.

“Such a needy little thing, aren’t you?” You nodded at his words as he pumped his fingers in and out of you and you moved your hips against them, trying to follow his rhythm. He was guiding you with the hand that was on your ass, pushing you further into him at each thrust.

“S-Steve, baby– Please–” You begged. You needed him inside of you, right this second. His fingers are not doing justice to what he could do to you. He growled, biting back a come back, but he was already frustrated himself, and he wanted to cum. He desperately needed to cum.

He pulled his fingers out of you, making you sigh from disappointment only to be manhandled into turning around, and then he pushed your upper back onto the table, bending you completely with your ass in the air. He grabbed onto the tie he left on the desk before.

“Arms behind.” You were breathing a little bit heavy as you complied to his wishes, putting your arms behind your back. He tied your forearms together, and you knew that your shoulders were going to be sore tomorrow, but it was going to be so worth it. “What do you need?”

“Hngh–” You wiggled your ass towards him, but the only thing that earned you was a loud smack onto one of your cheeks, making you whine.

“You acted like a fucking brat to get it. Have the decency to tell me what it is and I will give it to you.”

“I– I need your cock Stevie, please– Please, I need it…” And he didn’t need any more indulgence. He grabbed onto both your plump cheeks that were wiggling at him and he spread them open. He smirked at your puckered hole, and it was a shame he didn’t prep you for that tonight. Maybe tomorrow.

He lined his cock up towards your wet pussy, sliding against your clit a few times, making you moan in need, and then with no warning, he pushed inside of you, and your eyes widened when he didn’t take his time to let you adjust. He just kept going, knocking the air out of your mouth as the side of your head rested against the desk.

“So fucking tight…” He groaned out. “Even after all these years you’re still so tight for me baby…”

“Steve–” Your words were cut short when in one sharp thrust he pushed forward, completely seething himself inside of you, and your mouth fell into a wide ‘o’ shape as your eyebrows frowned at the friction of it all. It was too much, but it felt so good. It always feels so good.

He got hold of your tied forearms, and just like a cowboy would ride his horse and your arms were his reins. He straightened up, his other free hand dangling on his side, looking down at you, with his glasses still on. The reflection of your ass was the one that was over the crystals, and he smirked as he pulled his hips back, and then pushed forward again, and pulled on your arms to bring you to him.

You let out a loud moan and cry of his name, feeling him hit onto your spongy part that resided inside of you, but then went deeper than that. Your husband has always been on the bigger side, and feeling him splitting you like this only added fuel to the fire that was inside of you.

He started a brutal pace, skin slapping constantly as his balls hit against your clit, his hips against your ass that jiggled at each movement. He was trying to hold in the groans in his throat as he slapped one of your ass cheeks with his free hand while the other kept pulling you to him.

“Baby, did you come here for another reason?” You heard him ask, but your mind was still gone as he kept pistoning his hips against you, earning another loud smack on your ass that will probably leave a bruise, making you cry and snapping you back into reality. “Is it because it’s the perfect time? It is, isn't it?”

“Y-Yes! God–” You had come with two missions today, and one of them was being fulfilled, the other will soon happen.

“You came for me to fill you up? Have you all full of my cum so it takes?” He moaned as he felt your walls clench around him at his words. You nodded against the desk as tears rolled down and hit the wood under your face. You were going to cum without him touching you at all, just from his dick hitting your g-spot repeatedly.

“Yes, yes, please, Steve– Make me pregnant, fill me up–” He groaned behind you as his thrusts became harder, the slapping of skin even louder than before and you could hear grunts coming out of his throat as you whimpered his name many times, your walls clenching each second that passed.

“I can’t fucking wait to see your belly all round with my baby, fuck– sweetheart I can’t fucking wait…” That was enough for you to cum around him, letting out a loud yell of his name, legs trembling as his pace stopped for a second because you were clenching too hard all around him. “Fuck– Sweetheart–”

He winced at the friction of your cunt around him, and when he felt you start to relax, just slightly, he took a deep breath in and started his pace again, not letting you come down from your orgasm, wanting to drive you straight to another one thanks to overstimulation.

“St–Steve, baby, stop–” But it wasn’t a true plea. You knew it wasn’t something you actually wanted, and he knew it too, so that’s why he didn’t stop at all. He smacked your ass once and he felt himself twitch inside of you, making him groan loudly.

“I’m gonna fill you up– You’re going to be so full.” He groaned when his glasses started to fog thanks to his jagged breaths, and he took them off to throw them onto the desk, beads of sweat coming down his forehead. You were choking on your moans as you tried to move your strained arms again, when you felt your walls start clenching, and you felt like you were dying from how hard your orgasm was going to be.

“S-Steve– Steve!” You couldn’t warn him fast enough that you were cumming onto his cock again, right after the last one you had because he didn’t let you rest from it. This time, your g-spot was so overstimulated that it made your juices gush out on him, drenching your legs and his.

“F-Fuck, shit!” He was too overwhelmed with the view that he pushed you onto his cock as he thrusted deep inside of you, and he let out a loud moan as the ropes of his white spent filled your walls. You whimpered through a moan as you felt the warmth invade your insides.

You two were left panting in the room, trying to get your breathing back to normal. He was the first to regain his composure again as he untied the tie around your arms, and thanks to feeling the relief from being able to move them again, you snapped back into reality. You took a sharp intake of breath as you blinked and pressed your hands against the desk in order to pull yourself up.

Your legs were shaking and you didn’t have time to recover yourself that he was turning you around to sit you on the desk.

“What–?” You managed to breathe out for a second before you felt his fingers gather your juices and his cum that was already dripping out of your cunt, and plunging them inside like a plug. You let out a whimper at the sensation and he leaned forward to press a kiss on one of your stained cheeks.

“I know baby… I know…” He didn’t move his fingers, he just kept them there. “I’ll prepare dinner tonight, you just lay down on the couch, okay?”

Your lovely husband was back, the rough demeanor already gone and you smiled as you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close. Steve and you had been trying for the past few months, and today was another month you were going to try and you were ovulating.

“God, I hope it takes…” You sighed out dreamily and he nodded at that, wanting nothing more for you two to finally become parents. He pressed a soft kiss against your forehead and then sent a smile your way.

“I hope so too. Also, way to rile me up.” You giggled at him as he wiped your cheeks lovingly with his free hand.

“Maybe we just needed to do it roughly…” You wiggled your eyebrows at him and he tsked at you with his tongue, lightly slapping the side of your thigh, making you chuckle.

“There’s no way that the way we have sex influences it.”

To Steve’s surprise, it does, because a month later your pregnancy test came out positive.

God bless working from home.

A/N: I never wrote a just steve fic before, so here it is, welcome to my dirty thoughts

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gaystayzennie · 2 months

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I Did Everything I Was Supposed To Do (pt.1)

Haechan x male reader

Summary: Finals week turns out to be the final breaking point for y/n, but luckily Haechan is around right when you need him

Warnings: fluff, some angst: homophobia, allusions to panic disorder, stress

“Fuck. I can’t believe I forgot about the final on Monday. Fuck fuck fuck” Y/n cursed under his breath as he walked as fast as he could toward the entrance to his boyfriend’s place. Y/n had a million things to do the next few days already, and now he had a final to cram for on top of it all. “One thing at a time” he told himself knowing it’s what Hyuck would tell him if they were together right now. He didn’t really listen to this advice of course… especially coming from his own mouth instead of his cute adorable boyfriend.Oh God. I wish he was here so bad. But Haechan was still at the dance studio and would be for the next several hours. That’s why y/n was even entering Haechan’s apartment right now in the first place; Daegal needed to be taken out while Haechan was gone.

He HAD to have his stupid extra long dance rehearsal today of course. On the day where he already had to finish a ton of assignments and now cram for a test. Y/n quickly threw his backpack on the ground and sprinted over to daegal scooping her up before she even knew what was happening. While he waited for Daegal to do her business and walk around a little, y/n got back to planning his study schedule in his head. If I start by studying for the exam… I can trade every 45 minutes from cramming to working on the lab report for my other class. Fuck! That depends on whether the others ever filled in their data. Ok so I’ll save that for the end and work on the PowerPoint instead even though it’s due the longest from now. As long as I cut myself off at around 1:00 am, that should be enough sleep to take the exam at 9:30 the next day. It was going to be a rough night, but y/n decided he’d just have to work away and hope for the best.

Y/N went back inside and scooped his backpack up again to go work in Hyuck’s bedroom. He found the smell of his boyfriend clinging to the room to be extremely comforting and he hoped it would help him stay calm and focused on his work. He opened up his laptop to the lecture notes for the exam and began skimming them for any confusing topics that jumped out at him. What the? I only know like 2 of these concepts?? I’m screwed. Y/N new from plenty of old tests that it would only make things worse if he worried about it now, and feeling himself start to panic, he decided to work on the PowerPoint instead. He figured he should just finish all his other assignments so that he could then spend the entire rest of the night studying.

An hour into working on the PowerPoint y/n’s phone buzzed. He opened it to find a message from one of his lab partners that read “hey y/n I’m really sorry but I’m actually boarding a plane right now so I’m not gonna be able to finish my part of the lab. Maybe you can ask [partner name 2] for her data? I think she got mine down too.”

Y/n: “I’ll ask her.”

Partner 1: “KK.”

“Gotta go, sorry again!”

Partner 2: “Shit. I don’t have her values either y/n. I’m pretty sure that part of the lab was online though, so one of us can just do the lab at home right now.”

“Oh wait actually, I have to take both of my finals on Monday. It’s due Tuesday right? So I won’t have time to do her part. Y/n any chance you can do it?”

Y/n: “ I only have one midterm tomorrow… I guess I can do it if no one else can.”

Partner 2: “Ur the best bro! Tysm <3”

Y/n: …

Fuck me. How am I supposed to do [p/n 1]’s work for them on top of everything else? Y/n barely had enough time to do all his work as it was. And he had done all of HIS work on the lab already too. He thought he’d just quickly analyze his partner’s data and then turn it in… but no. This is totally unfair. I have more work than either of them, and I’m doing their work for them too on top of it all. Y/n’s eyes grew misty for a second threatening to turn into tears, but y/n shook his head hard and the urge to cry went away for now. He had to get back to— wait no. He needed to cook dinner. With no Hyuck home to cook dinner like usual, he was going to starve if he didn’t make something for himself. Standing up quickly y/n smacked his arm on Hyuck’s dresser skinning it in the process. Great. Now he was bleeding. And it had gotten on his white shirt too. Except it wasn’t his shirt, it was his boyfriend’s shirt that he had borrowed. Y/n was this close to screaming in frustration, but stripped off the shirt quickly and made his way to the bathroom to clean the spot before it stained. And of course, he needed to throw it in the washer if he really didn’t want it to stain, and that meant he should really just do all of Haechan’s laundry now. So heart now racing in a slight panic, y/n gathered the laundry and started the cycle as quickly as possible so that he could start on dinner.

Opting for the most time efficient option, y/n grabbed some pasta and left it to boil while he got back to work for a few minutes. There sure was a lot on his mind now between the pasta he was cooking, Daegal (who he suddenly remembered needed to be fed as well), the lab report, the final exam in a day, Haechan’s laundry that still needed to be dried, folded, and put away, and the millions of other things he needed to get done before going home to his family at the end of the week. And the trip home would be another ordeal that required a lot of planning and prep work. Y/n had a lot of problems at home due to his conservative family and their recent discovery that he was dating Haechan. But that’s silly. I shouldn’t worry about that right now. And it’s not like it’s anything new knowing they all disapprove of my “lifestyle choice”. That’s old news, and I need to focus on this. Y/n went back to his multitasking and eventually got Daegal fed, the laundry in the dryer, and got a good portion of the lab done.

At 10:30 y/n finally felt satisfied with the PowerPoint and had finished collecting most of the data his partner was supposed to do. So he went to wash all the dishes he had left out at dinner and put away the leftovers as a quick study break. He smiled at the pasta he’d saved for Haechan knowing it would make his boyfriend’s day to find food ready for him after a long night of dance practice. When he walked back into Hyuck’s bedroom to finish the lab, he noticed several notifications on his phone again.

Mom: Hey you’re coming home on Wednesday right? You’ll be done with finals week by then?

Dad: Hey y/n you better have a gift ready for your mother when you come home on Tuesday. She’s still pretty upset about Haechan, so you should really try to make her feel better.

Bro: Dude mom and dad are pissed cuz dad thought you were coming home Tuesday after your final, and then mom told him you said Wednesday. So he flipped and said you were probably staying longer to fuck Haechan or something

Y/N: I told them both Wednesday. I AM spending Tuesday night at Hyuck’s place. But I just wanted a night to relax before immediately coming home

Don’t tell them that… just say I’m busy or something

Bro: sorry bro, that’s not gonna work. You better come home Tuesday or they’re gonna make the trip absolute hell for you

Y/N: fuck ok fine, I’ll make it work

Y/n was getting more and more stressed by the second. And now he wouldn’t even get any sort of buffer between finals week and seeing his family. And fuck he had that feeling in his head- that feeling of anxiety setting in- making him slightly dizzy and his chest tight. Fuck. Fuck. I’m gonna have a panic attack. I know it’s coming. Should I call Hyuck? He should be on his way home by now anyway right? Ok fuck. Yeah he should call his boyfriend. Maybe he could talk him through it. He prayed he was right and Hyuck would actually answer his phone, and to his relief, Hyuck answered right away.

“y/n! I’m on my way home and practice went pretty well! I think the show is going to be really good this quarter. Have you made dinner yet? And how’s the studying going?” He was so excited to hear his y/n ie’s voice on the phone. “Hyuck.” Y/n felt the lump in his throat form and wasn’t able to get out the rest of your words as he broke into tears. “Y/n? What’s wrong love? Are you ok?” No words came out of y/n as he began to hyperventilate. Haechan could hear y/n’s shallow breathing and put together that he must be having a panic attack. He assured y/n he’d be there in the next ten minutes and stayed on the phone with him until he rushed through the door exactly ten minutes later, Immediately making his way over to y/n huddled in the corner of his bed crying and hyperventilating. From past experience he knew y:n liked him to stay close until he was able to calm down and talk.

Haechan slowly climbed into the bed, sliding his body between your back and the bed frame, wrapping his arms around you in a comforting bear hug. “I’ve got you y/n. I’ve got you, and I’m not going anywhere.” Y/n began shaking in Haechan’s arms unable to fully process what was happening with his mind completely taken over by panic at this point. Haechan rested his chin on y/n’s soft hair and hummed a song. Y/n did his best to focus on the light vibrations on his head from Haechan’s tune. “I’ll just talk about my day a little too ok y/n? Squeeze my hand if you’d like that.” Y/n’s eyes remained squeezed tight, and his body was still trembling, but he gives Haechan’s hand a light squeeze back. “Ok love. Let’s see… I saw Jungwoo today! I know he’s your favorite dance major right? He was really cool to watch, you were right! He might even be more charismatic than me” he teased. Y/n didn’t laugh out loud or acknowledge him, but he appreciated Hyuck trying to lighten the mood. “I spent most of the night working on my duet with Mark though. They have us doing this really acrobatic hiphop song and it’s a lot of work. I’ve memorized all the footwork though. It was kind of funny watching Mark struggle with it more than me for once honestly. Next time you should tag along and watch. When it’s not finals week of course!” He adds, giving a small pec to your forehead.

“Is that why you’re stressed by the way? Finals?” He doesn’t really expect y/n to give any responses yet. But much to his surprise you shake your head in response. “No. More.” Y/n says quietly, starting to breath a little more evenly. “What else baby? What’s stressing you out.”

“Everything!” Y/n exclaims. “So much. TOO much” y/n squeaks out bursting into more tears. Haechan gently shushes you and squeezes his arms tighter around your body and begins planting little kisses all over your head to comfort you. “It’s ok y/n. It’s ok.” Hyuck can feel y/n’s body body relax a tiny bit despite his sobs. Y/n spins around melting into Haechan and burying his face in his chest

To be continued…

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bellewintersroe · 6 months

Text

Max Verstappen x HornerDaughter!

part 13 here’s the LINK to part 12. mentions of sex and sex flashbacks, swearing, a little awkwardness and flirting, but nothing too intense. It’s Halloween and Christians nightmares seems to be coming true, or at least he thinks. Max and Leni can’t seem to stop the smirks and eye contact. Despite it all being fun and games, Leni’s anxieties begin to loom...

Taglist: @ironmaiden1313 @callsignwidow @fangirl125reader @norassimpingzone @roseseraj @eugene-emt-roe @copper-boom @its-elias-world @cassiopeiia24@larastark3107 @maxxiemoo @crashingwavesofeuphoria @18754389

October 31st 2023:

I was meant to be working. I still had an hour left of working online, but instead of focusing I kept sharing sheepish smiles with Max, glancing over to him everytime he’d walk in the room. I’d purposefully picked a quiet room to do my work in, but it seemed to be one that Max also had to be constantly coming in and out of.

My eyes peered through my lashes and I felt a smirk grow seeing Max come in again. “Have you forgotten something?” I quietly asked, taking out an airpod. I wasn’t even listening to anything, it just prevented people talking to me- Max, however, was an exception. “No, why? Oh- actually I left my hat.” He quickly changed his mind, reaching for his cap that was still sat on the table from the previous time he’d been in here. I smiled again, glancing back down to my laptop. “What’re you working on?” He then gently asked, making his way around the table. “Some really fun stuff.” I sarcastically spoke, I felt his arms rest on the back of the chair and immediately I was reminded of how his touch felt on my back when we slept together only days prior. “Fun stuff?” He leaned over my shoulder, peering at the document. “Looks it.” He played along as I turned over to face him. “Leni, what’re you doing later?” His eyes narrowed slightly. “Mmm, nothing. I was gonna watch some Halloween films.” “Not dressing up?” His eyebrows perked. “Well I can do if you want.” I joked as Max’s jaw dropped followed by a bubble of laughter. “I’m joking.” I cleared up. “Well you could dress up, you know.” I felt his hand touch the bare of my skin slightly. His eyes glancing down me indicated he was talking about something else, but he started snickering childishly shortly after.

“Shut up, Max.” I rolled my eyes, the smile failing to fall off my face. “Didn’t know you had that in you.” I pushed my tongue to the inside of my cheek, pretending to be focused on my work. Realistically I was reading the same word over and over again. “Also didn’t realise you had a lot of things in you.” I teased again, hearing him pause before laughing once again. “Well how were you-”

“Leni! Oh- hi Max.” My dad out of everybody walked in and I felt Max’s hand immediately slide off the back of my back as he stood up straight. I mentally cursed, especially seeing how his eyes darted between Max and I with a furrowed brow.

“Hiya.” I smiled, pretending to act focused back on my work. “Hi.” Max nodded. “Sorry, Max I didn’t realise you were in here, Leni have you almost finished?”

“Oh, I just left my hat.” Max commented and I almost started laughing. “Oh, okay. Leni do you wanna grab some food later? Max you’re welcome to join.” My dad offered, open arms. “Sure, I’ll be done in like an hour.” I nodded. “Ah I’ve got training until 9.” Max winced. “Of course you have.” My dad shook his head like he’d forgotten.

“Just you and me then, Len.” It was obvious my dad had noticed something between Max and I. He was acting a little awkward, he looked confused. I mean it’s not like we were in a super compromising position or anything? Then it dawned on me- what if he knew about Max and I the other night?! Fuck! The security did see me go into his room. Maybe a form of Chinese whispers got passed around?! All I knew from now on was to deny, deny, deny. “So, what’s up with you and Max?” My dad questioned once we were sat at dinner, tucking into our food. He was acting occupied, cutting through his steak. I bit into mine a little too harsh when the question fell off his lips.

“Me and Max?” I frowned. “Yeah, you looked awfully close earlier.” I started laughing at his words, hoping I could play it off just like I would anything else.

“I was showing him my work, not that it’s very interesting.” I cringed. “Oh yeah? How’s that going?”

“Okay, I mean. I can’t imagine staying there forever. Works for now, I like being able to do it from wherever.”

“Yeah it’s a good little thing you’ve got going on. Maybe you should come work for me at RedBull?” I was just grateful that the conversation had slipped past and away from Max, a relief spread through me a little too soon.

“The nepotism would be crazy. It’s not like I’ve worked to get there or anything.” My eyebrow perked. “But you know the team better than most people, it’s not like you don’t understand the sport.”

“Mmmmm, don’t think I’d work very well as Red Bull’s next team principle, dad.”

“Well I think you’d be great!”

“That’s a little bias.” I responded, chewing on my food with a smirk. “Yeah, maybe.” He shrugged, only half convinced.

“Even if you’re getting back into physiotherapy again, you’d enjoy that no?” He referred back to my degree that I’d only graduated from the year prior.

“Probably.” I shrugged, taking a sip of my water. “I’m sure Max would like to spend more time around you.”

“What?” The words fell off my lips quicker than I could piece together what he’d actually said. “Well I just see a few things, you know? I’m not completely stupid, I know you’re close.”

“Yeah, we’re close. But we’ve always been close.” I took a final mouthful of my steak, acting completely occupied by my food. “Hmmm, okay.”

“You’ve just been reading all those rumours online.”

“Well are they true?”

“You know they’re not.” I narrowed my eyes as my dad began to laugh. “I haven’t even read half those rumours!”

“Ah, pay no attention to them.” He waved his hand. “You too then…” ___________________________________________

“And he was so good in bed, Anna, like, really fucking good at sex.”

“Did you finish?”

“Yeah, oh my god, literally twice.” I paced back and fourth as I spoke on my phone to my best friend. “Len, you need to sleep with him again.” I laughed at her words.

“I know. I really want to.”

“Well you know it’s gonna end up somewhere at least, like he’ll be your boyfriend, that’s what you both want isn’t it?”

“Well… I’m not sure yet, I really like him-”

“-and he really likes you.”

“Yeah, but- you don’t think it’s too soon do you? I just… his breakup was what? Five weeks ago?” “Yeah but the circumstances. It’s different for everybody, you and Max have known each other way longe than him and his ex were even together, same for you and Josh.”

“Yeah, true…” I twirled at my hair. “Just see how it goes, Max is a nice guy, he’s not gonna bullshit you Leni, if that’s what you’re scared of.”

“Mmmm, true…” my phone lit up as a text came through. It was from Max and I smiled pathetically fast.

“Speaking of the devil..” “What did he ask?”

“Just what I’m doing… you think I should go round and fuck him again?”

“Yes, yes a million times yes.” Despite the eagerness there was the looming anxiety that would quickly take over me sooner than later…

#max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fanfiction #Max Verstappen X OC #Max Verstappen #f1 x OC

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sunlightmurdock · 2 years

Text

Trouble in Paradise | 0.6 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Synopsis: After the most painful break-up of his life, Rooster is stationed in Hawaii for the next six months. Alone, away from home and hurting, he finds comfort in the arms of a stranger.

Warnings: no use of y/n, age gap (rooster is in his mid-30s, reader is in her early 20s), smut, oral (m receiving), mild public touching, angst

…

Rooster thinks he’s good at keeping secrets.

He is, really. He’s always been trustworthy, and he’s always had a lot of baggage that most people don’t want to hear about — he’s used to keeping certain things to himself. Overall, he’s a pretty private person. Plus, before this, he has never given anyone in his life reason not to believe that he isn’t being honest with them.

Like he likes to be in all walks of life, Jake considers himself to be two steps ahead of Rooster. He knows that something is up. Rooster is never going to give it up willingly, but Jake doesn’t mind digging until he figures it out.

It’s 9pm when Jake hears Rooster’s door close. He glances outside and notices the sun setting, then furrows his eyebrows. They have to be on base early tomorrow, 9 is kind of late to be just heading out. Not to mention, it’s about to storm. Thick grey clouds have been heading their way for the past four hours.

Jake pushes himself up and crosses the room, opening his door and poking his head out into the hallway. There he is; Rooster’s locking his room and digging into his pocket with his free hand.

“Where ya headed, Birdboy?”

Rooster jumps, turning his head toward the other pilot and letting out a soft sigh.

“Just out.” Bradley snips. Jake cocks an eyebrow at him, lips quirking in intrigue. “For a drive.” Bradley adds quickly.

Jake hums and taps his knuckles on the door frame, then glances around the empty hallway. “Mind if I join you? — I’m not busy.”

Bradley pulls his keys from his pockets and checks his watch. He’s in a hurry for someone just going for a casual drive.

“I kinda need to clear my head,” He turns quickly and starts walking away, “Maybe next time. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Jake’s brows scrunch as he watches Bradley speed away from him. He waits until Bradley has turned the corner before he shakes his head and closes his door.

Rooster feels pretty secure in his lie. It isn’t a complete lie, he does need to clear his head. Everything has been feeling kind of foggy since Jake got here three days ago.

He’s been throwing himself into fixing things with Amy. Looking at old photos, online wedding venue catalogues, texts from before.

He can’t stop thinking about you either way. But he’s sure it’s a phase. It’s a kind of need to get this out of his system, type thing. He isn’t the first guy in the Navy to fool around on a posting, and he isn’t going to be the last.

Once he’s home, things will go back to normal. He’ll marry her and his life will finally begin.

You’re polishing glasses, bobbing your head softly to the soft rock playing from the speakers. It’s a super quiet night, it’s a weekday and the storm has sent most people home early.

You’re surprised when the bell above the door rings, even more surprised when you turn and find him standing there. You wipe the smile quickly from your face as Abigail crosses in front of the bar, carrying cushions from the outdoor seating area inside to the back room.

Rooster waits for her to pass before he crosses to sit at the bar. He’s wearing a plain black t-shirt and jeans, along with the same sunglasses he was when you first met him.

You glance back over your shoulder, making sure she’s gone, then lean one elbow onto the bar and prop your chin on it, smiling at him, “Hey, Sailor.”

He shoots a look in the direction that she disappeared, then pushes up from the stool and presses his lips to yours, “Hi, pretty girl.”

Your tongue edges out to wet your lips as you watch him settle back into his seat. You compose yourself so that you aren’t a smiling, blushing mess when Abigail inevitably does come back, pushing away from the bar. You turn and grab a bottled beer from the fridge, twisting the cap off and setting it in front of him.

“How has work been this week?” You lean against the counter behind you. You haven’t seen him since Sunday morning, and it’s Wednesday now. You’ve been just as busy as he has so his absence hasn’t been too hard on you. But his presence does make you especially happy.

“It’s been alright,” He swipes his thumb through the condensation on the bottle, looking down at the bubbles rising to the top. He watches you turn back to polishing glasses as Abigail passes through again. “Just training exercises and stuff. They replaced that guy who got hurt last week, I’ve just been bringing the new guy up to speed.”

You watch his hands fiddle with the bottle. You stand and play one of your favourite games as of recent. Trying to figure him out. You like making guesses about who he is, who he was, before all of this.

Probably on the football team, probably had a couple of pretty girlfriends, a couple of hookups back in college but not enough to have people say that he slept around a lot. Probably Navy parents. Probably a dog person. Probably one of those guys that was super devoted to his sports teams.

“How about you? — What’s my girl been up to this week?” Rooster doesn’t even realise he’s talking to you the way he talks to her. Asking the exact same questions. You’re glad that he isn’t looking at you to see the way your eyes widen when he calls you his.

You swallow your nerves and think back to the hundreds of conversations you’ve had with Ella. You find that you don’t feel as nauseous this time, you don’t feel the same fear that you have other times.

“Just working.” You manage not to sound like a complete idiot. He looks up at you through the dark lenses of his sunglasses. You rest your palms on the countertop behind you and shrug your shoulders, “Missing you.”

Rooster smiles. You stifle the relieved sigh that your body conjures upon realising that you’ve said the right thing. He brings the bottle to his lips and takes a small sip. He straightens up as Abigail enters with another armful of seat cushions.

This time you see her look between the two of you. You smile innocently over at her and busily polish the glass in your hands. He’s the only one in the entire bar, it isn’t unusual that you’re making conversation with him.

“I missed you too.” He says quiet enough for her not to hear. You smile as you turn away from him to place the wine glass in your hands on the shelf. He leans forward slightly and rests his chin against his fist.

You catch sight of him in the mirror behind the bar. Your shirt has ridden up just slightly as you reach up to settle the glass into its spot. He makes no effort to hide the staring.

You turn quickly and grin at him. He smirks softly, caught, and by no means embarrassed about that. You hear the door to the back office close and sigh in relief that Abigail is going to be in there for a while.

“When do you get off?” Rooster taps his hands on the bar.

“Soon, hopefully.” You grin at him, leaning back against the counter, then take your lip between your teeth. Rooster chuckles against the rim of the bottle, looking up at you over the top of the sunglasses.

He takes another drink and checks his watch.

“You hungry?” He asks.

You scrunch your nose at him. “Are you asking me on a date?”

Rooster’s broad shoulders rise and fall in a nonchalant shrug, his lips quirking up into a smirk. He fiddles absentmindedly with the beer bottle, looking between it and you, “Come on, don’t tell me you’re not into me.”

You laugh, crossing your arms over your chest. He winks at you, then leans closer across the bar, “Just wanna take my favourite bartender out for some food after she’s worked so hard.”

You take a stride forward, leaning across the bar and pressing your lips to his. He slides a hand up into your hair, tugging you closer and slipping his tongue into your mouth. He groans softly against your lips, stroking his tongue against yours.

You pull back and smack his shoulder, checking around to make sure that Abigail hasn’t suddenly materialised out of nowhere. He grins at you. You smile softly, surprised but nonetheless excited by his boldness.

“Let me go speak to Abi, I’m supposed to be here until we close.” You decide. He nods, leaning back in his seat as he watches you walk away. You trail your fingers along the wall as you make your way to the office and knock on the door.

“Come in!”

You turn the door handle and step inside, freezing as you stare at Abigail’s computer monitor. It’s playing a live feed of all six security cameras, front and centre is the stream of the camera that sits above the bar.

You press your lips together. Abigail turns in her chair and raises her eyebrows at you.

“Abi, I can explain.” You can’t. You have no idea how to lie your way out of this one. She simply sighs and raises her eyebrows, pressing her palm to her forehead.

“You know that I don’t have the rules that I have to be a cockblock, don’t you?” You have a feeling it’s a rhetorical question. You shift awkwardly on the spot. “I have a lot of pretty, young girls working here. I see the way these guys look at you all, I’m trying to protect you.”

You put your hands behind your back and nod softly, feeling kind of like you’re about to be put on time out.

“You’re a big girl, you can screw whoever you want,” Abi shakes her head slightly as she leans back in her seat. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

You offer her a smile.

“You don’t have to worry about me.” You confirm.

She shrugs her shoulders, “Heard it all before, honey. They’re all perfect in the beginning.” Abi sees the hurt flash across your face for a moment and considers that she may have overstepped. She reminds herself that she’s not your mother, nor do you want her to be. You’ve made this clear before.

“You can go with him if that’s what you were going to ask, I’m going to close up before the rain starts anyway.” Abigail decides. A silent apology for sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong. You smile softly and thank her, then turn away.

He stands up as you turn the corner, pulling his wallet from his pocket and sliding a ten across the counter toward you, “Free to go?”

You jerk your head toward the camera above the bar, not wanting to be so obvious as to turn and point at it. Rooster looks up, lips parting slightly as he looks back to you, “Did I get you in trouble?”

“No, just kinda got lectured,” You explain as you settle his tab and grab your jacket from under the bar, “Let’s go.”

He lets you walk ahead of him, tucking an arm around your waist and pressing his lips to the top of your head, “I’ll make it up to you.”

You close your eyes and lean into his touch for just a moment, then push the door open, “There’s this place that’s a short walk away that’s really good. That way we don’t have to take both cars.” You offer.

“If you say it’s good then I’m in.” He wraps his arms fully around you, pulling you in against you chest. You wrap your arms around his waist and squeeze, inhaling the soft scent of fading cologne. You push away from him and grab his hand, starting off in the direction of the restaurant. He slides his fingers between yours.

You take him to a diner with outdoor seating under a canopy, it’s only about a ten minute walk from the bar and you’ve been here many times with your co-workers.

He’s sitting with his arms folded on the table, already done with his food, watching as you’re finishing yours. You furrow your eyebrows at him as you pick at the fries in front of you, “Do I have something on my face?”

“Actually yeah,” He smiles fondly across the table at you. You turn your head for him, smiling back as he leans across the table and wipes his thumb across the corner of your mouth. Your eyes stare into his as he swipes it across your bottom lip. He swallows and shifts in his seat, retracting his hand, “Got it.”

“You’re blushing.” You tease him, breaking out into a grin that makes him turn a deeper shade of pink. He rolls his eyes playfully at you, wiping his hands off on his napkin. You take it one step further, kicking one shoe off under the table and resting your foot against his thigh, sliding it along the denim until it rests against his crotch. The table cloth covers you, you know it’s fine.

You love the pretty shade of pink he turns when he’s blushing.

“There are people around,” He whispers across the table, furrowing his eyebrows sternly at you. You smile sweetly back at him and rub your foot gently across the bulge in his jeans.

“You two make a beautiful couple.” Both of you look up at the same time, equally shocked to find that someone had snuck up on you. Rooster’s face softens as he realises it’s just a sweet old lady. She seems to be a tourist from the floral printed shirt and skirt she’s wearing. He finds it adorable, and smiles politely, opening his mouth to thank her.

“Oh, he’s not my boyfriend,” You explain, smiling at the old lady sweetly from your seat as you foot strokes over his crotch. He shifts closer to the table, afraid of being seen. “We’re just fucking.”

Rooster turns his head toward you, now a much deeper shake of pink. Closer to red now. His eyes are wide, shocked that you can say that and not be embarrassed in the slightest. You smile across at him.

“I’m so sorry.” He turns his head quickly toward the old woman, “She… she’s just kidding.”

“Oh, alright. Well, you kids have a good night.”

“We will.” You grin across the table at him, trying to hold back your laughter. Rooster waits for her to walk away, watching as she loops her arm through her husband’s and begins to whisper about what he just heard.

He curls his fingers around your ankle under the table, turning his attention back to you, eyes widening expectantly for you to explain yourself. You can’t help but laugh. He watches, brows furrowed as you double over with laughter.

“What was that?” He tries to stop himself from smiling, but your laughter has his lip twitching. He squeezes your ankle, leaning across the table toward you.

“You got me in trouble, I got you in trouble.” You tease him, wriggling your ankle out of his grasp and sliding it back into his shoe. He glances back over his shoulder, watching the scandalised old woman still gossiping to her husband.

He presses his tongue to the inside of his cheek and shakes his head slightly, lips quirked up into a soft smile. You’re still chuckling to yourself after he has settled the cheque and you’re walking back toward the car.

You squeeze your fingers against his and look across to the beach. It’s dark now and it’s for sure going to pour down any minute, but you just need a few more minutes outside. You were kind of hungover this morning, by the time you got up, it was time to go to work — the fresh air is really helping you out.

“Can we sit for a minute?” You tug him off toward the sand. He doesn’t put up a fight, letting you lead him down the steps. You shrug your jacket off and sit down on it, leaning back on your palms and looking up at the sky.

Rooster sits at your side, his sunglasses folded into the collar of his shirt as he joins you and looks up. He isn’t sure what you’re looking at. He just sees one huge mass of grey with the clouds overhead. But, he looks nonetheless. Silently hoping that maybe he’ll be enlightened. Maybe one day he’ll see things the way you do.

“Have you ever had a boyfriend?” He asks softly, still looking up at the endless grey overhead. You take a deep breath, inhaling salty ocean air and exhaling it again before shaking your head, still looking up,

“Like a serious boyfriend?”

Rooster turns his head to look at you, “Yeah.” He then follows your line of sight and squints. He wonders what it would be like to live a day as you. Minimal responsibilities, fun friends, young and free with no one who needs you to be someone you aren’t. He wonders then what he would be like now if he had met you when he was young and free. He begins to wonder if he’s ever been young and free.

Young certainly, but free? — He isn’t so sure.

“No, I guess not.” You shrug your shoulders, it clearly doesn’t mean much to you that you haven’t. “Not serious.”

He mulls over this information, “But you have had boyfriends?” You hum in confirmation, nodding your head slightly. There’s a soft breeze coming from the tide, a calming relief to the constant humidity of the past week. You close your eyes as you let it wash over you.

“What were they like?” He asks.

“Assholes.” You breathe, letting out a small laugh. You open your eyes and turn your head to find that he’s watching you with intrigue. “They we’re just boys. Shitheads.”

He furrows his eyebrows. It feels like he’s trying to look through you for a moment, like you’re a book and he’s finally gotten to the interesting part.

“Did they hurt you?” His voice is serious. Almost regretful, like he has done something to hurt you himself. You think nothing of it, deciding that he’s just being protective.

“Nothing I didn’t get over,” You answer, turning your chin toward the sky again. “How about you? — Any dramatic love stories on your end?”

“I was engaged before I came here.” Rooster doesn’t plan to say it. It just leaves his mouth before he’s even thought of it. You turn your head. Both of you look equally surprised at what he has just revealed. Engaged — you’re reminded of his age all of a sudden. That’s serious. Engaged is super serious.

Rooster watches your features register the shock of his revelation. He regrets it immediately. He knows that he can’t tell you more.

“What happened?” You ask, struggling to string together words further than that. He looks out over the water and wills himself to come clean.

“We were together for six years, engaged for almost a year. We broke up a week before I came.” He doesn’t look at you as he says it. You shuffle closer and loop your arm through his, resting your head against his shoulder. A week before. One week to get over six years with a person. You furrow your eyebrows as you look out over the water with him.

You can’t imagine how deep things would have gotten six years into a relationship. You haven’t even been in a relationship that has lasted a full year yet.

“She left. We fought a lot, towards the end.” He explained quietly, brushing his hand along the back of his neck and letting out a heavy breath. Rooster tries to figure out how to tell you that when he met you, it was over — and now it isn’t. He doesn’t want to tell you.

It’s beyond selfish. He wants it all to work out. To be here and live your no consequences, no long term plan with you. For a while. Then, when he’s ready, he wants her to be at home waiting for him to settle down.

He grits his teeth as he thinks of how furious his mother would be about what he’s doing. She raised him better than this.

“What did you guys fight about?” You ask softly, stroking your fingers along the inside of his forearm. You press your lips to his shoulder over the fabric of his shirt.

“Me. Being an asshole.” He breathes out, brushing his palm over his forehead. He shakes his head slightly. You press your lips to his bicep, then his shoulder again. He turns his head to look as you rest your chin against his arm.

Doe-eyed and smiling sweetly at him, you raise your hand and brush his curls back off of his forehead. “Had you ever considered being less of an asshole to her?” You tease him.

He laughs. Really laughs. Eyes crinkling kind of laugh. You smile against his arm.

“No, I hadn’t thought of that.” He answers playfully, nudging forward and kissing your forehead. He brings a hand up to rest against the nape of your neck, stroking softly over the top of your hair.

You hum against his arm. He lets a few moments of quiet pass, but he’s focusing so hard that you can practically hear him thinking. His knees are bent and his elbows are resting on top of them. You push his knees down so that his legs are outstretched and slide across into his lap, grabbing his face in your hands and kissing him.

“What was that for?” He asks, grazing his fingertips along your jaw, sliding them around to curl against the back of your neck.

You smile at him, “You seem sad when you talk about her. Just want to cheer you up.” You already have. He would be so happy. But things like this don’t last.

This isn’t his future. This isn’t his plan. Amy is his plan, Amy is what makes sense and she’s who he is supposed to be with. She’s who he’s going to be with.

Then you kiss him delicately again. He squeezes the nape of your neck and slips his tongue into your mouth. You hum contentedly against his tongue, sliding your arms around his broad shoulders.

You don’t need to know what comes next. You know he’s leaving and that’s all you need to know. He can make you happy for the time that he’s here. It’s not selfish if he’s making you happy too.

You feel a drop of rain on your shoulder first, then pull back and look up. His hands find your hips as he looks up with you, feeling warm droplets of rain hitting his cheek.

“Shit, come on.” He stands and plants you on your feet, grabbing your jacket from the ground. You intertwine your fingers with his, stopping him from heading back to the main road.

You look off to your left, then back at him.

“What?” He furrows his eyebrows slightly as more rain hits the exposed parts of his skin. You tug him toward you and head left. He follows uncertainly. “Where are we going?”

He squints at the boardwalk you’re headed for. It extends out over the water, it’s closed because of the weather, yet here you are dragging him under its shelter.

“What are we doing?” He asks as you press his back to one of the support beams. Small drops of rain make it through the gaps in the wood above your heads, but as it begins to pour across the rest of the beach, you’re both pretty dry under there.

“Living a little.” You answer, kissing him hard. Rooster’s eyes widen as you pull at his belt. He looks around hurriedly. “Calm down, everyone’s going home, we’re fine.”

“Seriously? Here?” He breathes out, brows scrunching. You tug his belt out of the loop, unbuckling it and popping open the button at the top of his jeans.

“Please?” You tease him, kissing his lips before you slide to your knees in front of him. Rooster shivers, sliding his hand up into your hair as he looks around him again. The beach is deserted because of the storm. He knows how busy this week at work is going to be, he’s not going to be able to see you again until at least the weekend. Maybe a stronger man would’ve stopped you. He leans his head back against the wooden beam as you press your mouth over his boxers.

“Shit.” He breathes out, curling his fingers in your hair. You hum amusedly, trailing your tongue along the outline of his cock, nuzzling your mouth against him until his white boxers are spit soaked and almost see through.

You look up at him through your lashes as you pull his waistband down, smirking. He groans. He shifts on his feet, planting them in the sand to keep his balance, curling his fingers tighter against your roots as you stick out your tongue and trail it along the vein on the underside of his cock.

You brace one hand against his thigh, wrapping your lips around him fully, flicking your tongue against the tip. He groans out again and again, head lulled back against the beam, brows furrowed in pleasure as your mouth works around him.

He tilts your chin and dares to look down at you. His cock twitches in your mouth. He just knows he’s going to be seeing this face in his dreams for the rest of his life. He strokes a thumb over your cheek, surprised by how much it turns him on to realise that he can feel himself through your cheek.

“You’re so fucking pretty.” He murmurs, stroking his thumb over your cheek again, keeping his index finger under your chin to make sure he can see that pretty face the whole time. Doe-eyed and eager to please, working your mouth around him. Rooster grits his teeth to shut himself up.

He lets out a strangled, almost whimper as he slides his hand around to the base of your skull and pushes his hips forwards slightly. You hum, sliding your hand from his thigh to his hip and pressing your nails into his skin. The noise he makes when nose brushes his pelvis sends electricity through you, spurring you on.

“S-Shit… I’m so close.” He manages out, pressing his fingers hard into the nape of your neck. Your lip quirks slightly as you look up at him, mascara smudged under your eyes slightly.

You happily take all of it into your mouth, swallowing and fixing his boxers and jeans. You kiss his cheek as you pull up his zipper and begin to buckle his belt,

“Feel better?” You ask chirpily, making him let out a breathy chuckle.

He rests his forehead against yours as he guides you in for a kiss. He nods against you. He has so much to say but he can’t think of a single word. You buckle his belt and fix his shirt, which was pushed slightly up his stomach to be out of your way.

You kiss him once more, “Alright. Let’s go before the lightning starts.” Rooster breathes out hard as your hand slides into his and squeezes.

Hangman is still up when he hears Rooster’s door close again. He has been reading for a good while now, and watching the storm roll through the base. He grabs his watch from the bedside table and checks then time. Then, he pushes himself up onto his elbows and looks outside at the thunderous rainstorm.

He furrows his eyebrows slightly. There’s no way Rooster was out for four hours driving around in that. So, where was he?

…

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#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw smut #rooster x you #miles teller #rooster bradshaw imagine #top gun smut #trouble in paradise

604 notes · View notes

idontknowreallywhy · 10 months

Text

Ok, I had a couple of hours in a hospital waiting room today so before I forgot the threads of where this story was going, I typed it all into notepad and well here it is, unedited as I think I’m next on the list to be called in and then I’ll have to go back to work and maybe after all that I’ll lose my nerve again.

We’ve not got to the answer yet, but here is some more Virgil pondering / reminiscing along the way…

Ch 2 - Muscle Memory

Virgil was 8-and-three-quarters when he had his first proper piano lesson. It was much too late.

The teacher had lamented it on a weekly basis. It was a such shame, she sighed, that the raw talent Virgil displayed was unlikely ever to amount to anything now. Everyone who knew about such things said all the greats were in formal training from their early years. It was very sad, apparently.

Nearly-9 Virgil didn’t pay all this much heed, he never intended to be a ‘great’ anything. He only wanted to play as many tunes as he could and the only person he truly cared about enjoying it was his Mommy.

Virgil’s only interest in those much vaunted ‘greats’ had been in watching them carefully in online videos to learn how they managed to make the leap from this chord to that melody line or how to adjust his hand position, just… so, in order to play that nippy little counter-melody that his fingers had stumbled over. So it became that, by the age of 10, with little formal training, he was beginning to exceed his mother’s technical ability (albeit he’d allow nobody to make such a comment, not even her).

And anyway, he’d been learning to play his whole life. One of their Christmas traditions, after Virgil had played the variations on carols he’d worked on for the occasion was to play family videos on the holoprojector. Every time, he’d blush as his last festive chord began to fade away because at that moment John would fire up the first one and it was always the same.

Wobbly home footage from the ‘30s showed himself as a round-cheeked 6 month old sat on Mommy’s lap at her piano, mashing the keys with his chubby fists and kicking his little legs in delight, while toddler Scotty squealed “Virgie’s playing Pan-eeeo” in the background and his Dad chuckled fondly from behind the camera. Focussed mainly on the objectively adorable infant, the camera panned up only for 0.87 of a second to show his Mom gazing fondly at the back of his fuzzy head. Yes, he had a screenshot of that moment saved on his tablet for… well, the harder times.

He smiled as he recalled the next part of the tradition - just before they all risked getting melancholy, Gordon would leap on to his lap and impersonate baby Virgil with passionate abandon, while Scott was prevailed upon to do an impression of his squeaky toddler-self (come to think of it, that impression sounded a heck of a lot like present day Alan but best not mention that to the poor kid).

Since that famous moment he and his mom had spent time together by that piano most days, either together, with her initially guiding his hands and eventually simple duets, or each quietly sat listening to the other play.

It was his school teacher, on hearing him practise snippets of a Mozart concerto on the music room piano at lunch times who had suggested the local instrumental teacher - a jack of all trades who could play any instrument decently but clearly wasn’t inspired by her day job. That first teacher didn’t last long in the end, not when her criticisms were overhead by a certain Jefferson Tracy who took exception to anyone who told one of his boys they couldn’t be great at anything they chose to be great at. ‘Proper’ lessons ceased while his parents sought somebody who would be more interested in nurturing Virgil for himself rather than in raising ‘the next great prodigy’. Unfortunately there weren’t many options in the wilds of Kansas so things lapsed for a while and, well, events intervened and everyone lost focus on the fun stuff.

The months after Mom died were quiet. It wasn’t that his family didn’t want him to play. It was just that the sound of the piano was so heavily associated with their mother that inevitably one of his brothers would choke up and rush from the room or Dad would go still and pale. He loved his family dearly and couldn’t bear to hurt them more, even though ceasing the activity they’d bonded over made him feel he was losing her all over again - he couldn’t just… stop.

So he’d skip lunch and monopolise the school piano, stay late some days, sometimes bolt down breakfast to get to school early and squeeze in some precious minutes before slipping into the back of his classroom late when he’d got carried away. But it… it. wasn’t. enough. The satisfaction in his playing was gone. The music itself was somehow gone, replaced by a queasy kind of desperation. He just didn’t have enough time to master the difficult phrases and his hands trembled with frustration and urgency because he only had 20 mins before he had to sit through double chemistry… He was hungry and tired but she’d loved this piece and he just needed to get it RIGHT.

It was Scott who saved him. Aware of Virgil’s frequent absence from the school canteen and not being able to bear the look on his best friend’s face when he forced himself to walk past the piano stool he came up with a plan and raided the savings he’d earmarked for the air cadets trip that summer. One evening when he slunk home late and went to collapse in the room he shared with his big brother he found a small electric piano squeezed into the space at the end of his bed, with a top -end pair of headphones perched on top. Big brother followed him in and watched with a small smile. Virgil had thrown himself at the boy across the room and babbled incoherent gratitude into his chest through oh-so-snotty tears-oh-Scott-your-hoodie-sorry and they’d clung to each other for what felt like hours until Scott had suggested maybe he should actually give the thing a go.

That was the first step in his music returning to him. The second was an unrelated conversation with Gordon.

The kid would ramble on at length about something that had caught his imagination and Virgil was the best at showing an interest which meant he learned a lot more lobster facts than he ever thought he’d need. When Gordon discovered that there were people who did swimming races AS THEIR JOB, Virgil was regaled with the training regimes of famous aquatic athletes and mostly smiled and nodded until one morning at breakfast Gordon started babbling about visualisation and how one could increase fitness and build muscle memory with their imagination.

From that moment, Virgil rarely travelled anywhere without an earbud in his right ear and twitching fingers. In fairness he never got very good at maintaining the “imagination” part… on long trips home in Two when Gordon had dozed off in the co-pilot seat, he’d quietly select a Rachmaninov concerto and ‘play’ it through secretly and silently while gazing out the windscreen. His brother, never a heavy sleeper, would crack an eye and watch with a little smile as his brother would slip into “air piano” at what must have been particularly dramatic moments. The expression of joy on his big brother bear’s face was an immediate antidote to the temptation to tease and Gordon kept it to himself, feeling privileged to have seen his brother entirely care-free.

Virgil didn’t visualise piano while he painted though. You can’t play piano (even in your mind) while holding a brush - he’d tried a few times and ended up dropping it. So when alone in his studio he picked non-piano pieces as a soundtrack to his artistic expression.

So yeah, it wasn’t air-piano behind the paint splatters either. Virgil lay on the floor and stared up at the purple starburst that had appeared at some point over the last 24 hours. He was coming to the conclusion his studio was definitely haunted.

…..

Note: this is what Gordon catches Virg ‘playing’ on long trips home in TB2… initially it’s just the bass notes where he gets a flickr of the left hand little finger but by the time the solo kicks off at 2.15 in, he’s in full air piano mode…

youtube

#thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #Virgil Tracy #unedited un proof read rambling #I’ll improve it later #thunderbirds are go #the paint mystery #idontknowreallywhy fanfic #thunderfluff #idkrw thunderfluff

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barmadumet · 8 months

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WIP Vote!!

Rules: Make a 24 hour poll with the names of your WIPs, let it run, then work for 10 minutes for every vote the winner receives.

Well, I’ve only got 2 WIPs (and you’re probably already familiar with them bc they’ve been on the list a while), but I’ve also got 2 story ideas that are pretty well-developed in my head, so I’ll include them, bc if I can get out of my ‘you should just delete your 3 unimpactful fics and disappear’ slump, I would like to write again someday… I’ve been feeling discouraged, so I really appreciate you @fulcrum843 for tagging me 💕

Descriptions of what you’re voting for wasn’t really in the rules, but I’ve only got one working title and two choices aren’t even actual WIPs sooo…. 🤷🏻‍♀️

WDYHTY: The obianidala fic that was supposed to be TCW fix-it Streets of Gold became. I left off at 20k words, and I really loved those words and hope to see the story through in time.

PW AU: Read a brief synopsis here. It was only sparked by watching Pretty Woman, but doesn’t actually follow the movie plot.

TLOTJ: Vader succeeds in his plan to forget Padmé, but his mind gets wiped more thoroughly and further back than intended - it’s lucky that Ferus was there lurking… He can bring the scared “Padawan” back to his Master. Yep. This one is obikinfer 😎

Clone Anakin: @journey-to-batuu and I have chatted about a fic based off her Sims posts! I am obsessed with this idea and have made some notes for a plot and even written out a pinch of dialogue.

I’m not going to tag bc after a little weekend online hiatus, I am catching up and seeing many of you were already tagged. Excited for all of us to get inspired by one another 🥰

#obikin #obianidala #obikinfer #WIP game!#maybe I’ll find some motivation #maybe I’ll find some confidence #appreciate you all #❤️

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lorahgames · 2 months

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The Depreciation of Shiny Pokemon in the Switch Era

(forgive me I am at work so cannot format this properly)

So if you know me, you know I am an avid shiny hunter in the post-game of Pokemon Violet. Almost every time I log on I’m slapping herba mystica onto a sandwich and running around like a lunatic for thirty minutes loading in pokemon to try to snag the shiny versions.

But recently, I’ve been hyper aware of exactly how easy it is to get shinies in this game. Like, it’s almost stupid easy at this point.

A sandwich paired with a mass outbreak (and shiny charm) gives you a 1/512 chance of encountering a shiny for 30 MINUTES. I noticed that when I enter the outbreak area, I can get probably 10-14 outbreak pokemon to spawn in. This means if I reset the spawns (run away to respawn and come back) and it takes me approximately one minute to check and respawn them at the 10 pokemon spawn level, I’ll encounter 300 or so pokemon within the sandwich period. That’s almost a 3/5 chance you will get at least one shiny within the 30 minutes!

When you go online to battle other trainers or participate in Tera Raids, you’ll see an outstanding number of shiny pokemon that people are using. It is commonplace to see an entire shiny team during the online battles. It’s at the point where I don’t even notice the shiny’s presence; just a quick “nice” and that’s all I think. I’m not impressed like I used to be.

Now, I never played Sword and Shield, and from what I heard, it had pretty janky shiny hunting mechanics that made it easier to get one. I could be wrong, but it makes me think that this is a Switch Era issue, not just gen 9. I have played Legends Arceus, and it is noticeably easier to get shinies as well, but not nearly as easy as the sandwich method from SV.

Any pokemon in the mainline switch games are practically losing their shiny value. For instance, when I was playing BDSP, I got a shiny Magnemite full odds, which I personally found impressive, but due to Magnemite being on the roster of Pokemon Violet, I just haven’t felt the need to transfer it over. It’s not like people will know it’s origin game unless they look at it off my screen in the summary section. Whereas my shiny Shaymin, I transferred it over with no problem. Shaymin is not in SV, and seems to have been limited to events in Switch era. Thankfully for me, Shaymin was shiny locked in Legends Arceus, and to even get it you need a copy of Let’s Go. I spent twelve hours shiny hunting this thing, so I’m so glad I can show it off.

So what do we do now that shinies are losing their value with every new Pokemon game that releases?

My top guess is marked shiny pokemon.

Recently I’ve been attempting to get more shiny pokemon with unique marks. Like shinies, a player can visibly see when your pokemon is marked, as it is announced in line with the pokémon’s name when sent into battle. This helps your pokemon stand out like being shiny does. Not to mention, it can be hard to get some of the marks as they are rarer spawns, especially on a shiny.

I have to say though, shiny hunting in SV is fun. Making sandwiches with friends, and selecting a cute pick to put it all in place is a slay for Gen9. I don’t feel as mentally exhausted as I did all those encounter resets with good ol’ Shaymin (I wanted to give up). I absolutely love running around with the Academy Special to see if anything comes my way.

And that’s enough of my rambling. I need to get back to work. Would love to know what you guys think!

LORAH

#pokemon #pokemon violet #pokemon scarlet and violet #shiny #shiny hunting #gen 9 #shaymin #pokemon dlc

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draconic-ichor · 22 hours

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The Cat, The Sun, and The Moon

Fnaf fanfic

Sun/moon x female oc

Part 9

Warnings: strong language, sexual themes, biting, blood, predator/prey dynamics, mentions of past trauma, cannon typical horror

Summary: Things deteriorate further, and Tabby decides Moon needs a little adventure out of the apartment as well.

Feedback appreciated, 18+.

Sun blinked back online, systems feeling sluggish from the lower temperature. Sitting up, the sound of cement granted against the metal of his exoskeleton, he grimaced into the sunlight.

He was on the roof again.

And his clothes were gone…

Sun huffed, lifting himself to standing. He glanced around, finding Moon’s outfit quickly.

The rising sun started to warm him, making movements easier, as he grumpily pulled on the sweatpants, forgoing the hoodie since he was just going to have to change soon anyways.

He was painfully aware his counterpart was offline, in rest mode or forced updates, he didn’t care to find out.

“Hotheaded.”

He swung a leg over to the fire escape, words low and growly.

“Self centered.”

He climbed down to the apartment's balcony.

“Piece of…”

His voice-box grated as he sat crisscross on the balcony floor, rays tilting to beginning charging. Huffing out to release tensions before they flared too high. Sun tried to focus on any little sound of the waking city, closing his optics.

Bip!

The sound of a complete charging cycle roused him from his meditations. He blinked, standing to return to the apartment.

Something was off…

He tilted his head, listening.

Walking quietly his mood dropped into worry as he spotted light filtering from the office door. Padding up, he knocked softly.

“Moon?” Came Tabby’s voice, strained with tiredness. Throat sounding dry as well.

Sun wilted a bit, despite his best efforts, faceplate leaning on the door as he responded softly, “…No.”

“Sun?” She sounded surprised, adding more to herself than directed at him, “Shit, what time is it?”

“Can I come in?” He asked.

“Sure.”

He turned the knob, peeking in to see her at her computer, the dark circles under her eyes were only partially hidden by her smeared makeup.

“Have you been up all night?” He asked, free hand clenching into a fist with concern.

Rubbing at her cheek, streaking old mascara into an even worse mess, she answered sheepishly, “I guess so. Is it morning?”

“It’s seven thirty-six am…” Sun spoke in a way that was desperately trying to hide his disapproval, adding lower, “You work today…”

“Yea…yea I know.” She nodded, looking away. Forcing a weak smile, Tabby attempted to sound sure as she assured, “I’ll be fine though!”

“You’ll be fine?” Sun echoed.

“I’ll be fine.” She nodded, trying to convince them both at once, “I’ll just clean up a bit and buy like an energy drink or something on the way.”

“Star…” Sun frowned.

“I’m used to long nights.” She waved away his concern, standing, “This will be nothing.”

Sun stood to the side to let her pass, worrying his hands together as she rambled on about past experiences of sleep deprivation. He followed behind her as she went to the bathroom.

He caught the look that flashed over her features before she realized he was there: weary and self-reproachable. Turquoise eyes shifted to meet his gaze through the mirror, giving him a weak smile before starting to wash her face.

She hardly ate breakfast, mostly filling up on coffee before rushing out of the apartment.

Sun stood, just staring at the apartment door, optics far away and unfocused. He worried his hands together, rays retracting the longer he looked. He withdrew more into himself, feeling out of place.

You could only organize a one bedroom apartment so many times.

Sun knew that…weeks ago.

He filled the madding silence by stacking DVDs into a tower, carefully replacing them in alphabetical order before doing it all over again. It was almost therapeutic.

By the time he detected the door’s lock clicking open he’d been at the repetitive task for hours. Jumping to attention, his most recent tower was knocked over, making a plastic-y hollow sound as the cases clattered across the floor. Sun winced, swiveling to check if it was noticed.

If it was, Tabby showed no sign of caring about it, struggling to get her shoes off. She kicked them away, dropping her bag to the floor before stripping out of her work clothes. She looked about as bad as she felt, eyes dull and downcast as she made her way across the apartment.

He rushed to pick up the DVDs, placing them on the shelf with habitual ease.

“I missed you today.” Sun smiled, straightening to following behind her as she went into the bathroom.

“I missed you too.” She nodded, voice soft as she ran cool water to splash on her face. Sun noticed the little wince at the much brighter light of the bathroom.

“Sunshine…are you ok?” He asked, his excitement of her arrival fading.

“Y-Yea.” She didn’t look at him, “I just have a headache.”

“Can I make you something?” He offered, “Tea? Soup? Anything?”

“No.”

The answer was quick and simple, spiking through his casing. Sun moved out of the way as she crossed the hall.

“Maybe we can watch a movie?” He reached out for her, “Or, or, or, maybe-“

“I…” Tabby looked away, “I just want to go lay down, okay?”

Sun’s outreaching hands withdrew slightly, fingers curling into his palms. He forced his faceplate to keep the smile that painted over it.

“Well sure!” He agreed, masking his words in a cheery tone. His head tilted, a shadow of his desperation cracking through as he watched her. An optic twitched.

“Star?” He asked as she passed him.

“Yea?” She asked tiredly, not even turning to meet his gaze.

“Could,” he ventured, tone needy and searching, “Could we cuddle then?”

Tabby paused at the bedroom door, hand on the handle. He saw how her fingers clenched in the slightest, shoulders sagging before she spoke.

“I have a migraine.” her voice was low, “The light makes it worse….”

There was much more implied in the tense silence that yawned after her words, making Sun flinch a bit.

He couldn’t go where there was no light…

He straightened, fiddling his fingers together. Nodding, his voice strained to convey normality, hell even a bit of false positivity, “Of course!”

Sun’s voice was just a touch too loud, making her wince again.

“You just go rest, and and and,” his smile almost hurt, “I’ll be right here!”

“…yea.” Tabby acknowledged the sentiment just enough to escape the interaction.

Sun watched closely as she closed the door behind her, painfully aware of the small click of the lock. Now away from any prying eyes he cracked, tightening enough his movements jerked as his head tilted.

Optic twitched, wandering back into the main arena of the apartment, desperately looking for something, anything, to clean.

It was spotless.

Everything was done.

Things organized and reorganized.

The twitching worsened, metal fingers clinking together.

“Moon?” Sun whispered, deadly low. His voice was almost just a staticy hum.

Moon was online, he could tell. He heard him.

“Moon, if you ruin this for me…I’ll…I’ll…” the words glitched.

M: You’ll what, Sunny?

The words were flat, no challenge yet no fear in them.

Sun grabbed at his faceplate, fingers clawing into his rays. “Well golly, I don’t know what I’ll do!” He smiled wildly, chest hurting, “I don’t know what I’ll do…”

His anger gave away into despair, rocketing through him like a comet, burning him from within.

M: Sun…

“Moon…I…” Sun crouched down, hiding his face in his knees. His body shook, rocking a bit to release tension.

“I love her, Moony.” Sun whispered, voice strained, “I love her a whole lot…”

M: Sun…

M: Sorry, I don’t…I don’t know why I-

“I know.” Sun whispered into the fabric of his pants, words wobbly and uneven, “I know…”

The bedroom door was still shut long after darkness fell, standing like stone before the lunar animatronic.

Moon was on all fours, faceplate pressed against the door, listening. He could just faintly pick up the soft sounds of snoring.

Tabby was sleeping.

His optics blinked open, moving away from the door slightly.

That was good….she needed sleep.

So why did he feel restless?

Moon took a few steps into the main area, pausing to listen again. Pressing his faceplate into the floor, he could hear the murmurs of a different tenant, the soft buzz of a strange tv.

Nothing to hold his attention for long, lifting his head to continue his rounds of circling the tiny living space. His optics caught sight of something, bright fabric drawing his attention. He snapped towards it, pawing closer to find one of Tabitha’s plushies laying on the living room rug.

It was the Moon plush…

Sun must have taken it earlier to give himself some company in wake of our recent silence.

Moon thought sadly, coming closer to look over the toy. Something inside him shifted.

His head tilted.

He pulled the plush closer, staring at it as if it would move.

“Hate you…” Moon whispered, words coming out like growls.

Claws scraped the old wood off the floor, grimace seared into his faceplate. A static-y sound left his voice box as he stared down into the small sewn eyes: bright blue thread staring back.

Mocking him.

He hissed, “Hate you.” Hands caging in the little plush. His optics burned red as he brought his thumbs down over its small face, digging his claws into its eyes.

“Monster!” He gorged them out, ripping into the stuffing, “Hurt everyone.” His voice rasped.

Clawing into the plush further, sobbing sounds choked out of his voice box, optics squeezing shit.

“Hate you.”

He wished he could cry, could release this rotting feeling.

“Everyone hates you.”

Wished that his body was flesh, that it would rush to comfort him with chemicals, sooth his mind. But nothing came: no tears, no relief, no kind hand.

Just him, that little doll with a false face, and rot.

“Everyone…”

He swallowed, looking down at the mangled toy.

Blue orbs gone.

Gone…no reminder of what he should be.

Of his failure…

Of his mistakes…

His chest hurt, looking at the wads of stuffing, part of him desperately wanting to scoop it up.

Desperately wanting to be held…

In a moment his demeanor shifted, face hardening as he ground his teeth. He pushed the doll away as if it was filth, lip curling.

“Deserve everything.” He hissed as he passed, stalking towards the balcony doors on all fours.

Sleep only brought the slightest relief to Tabitha, blinking open her eyes to the first shafts of light that peeked through her curtains. She swallowed, mouth feeling dry and heavy.

She needed water.

Standing up, she unlocked her door and started shuffling across the apartment, half awake. She stepped on something substantial, something soft that squished and gave underfoot.

Instantly sobering from her sleep haze, Tabby cautiously looked down, images of dead mice making her stomach tighten.

It was stuffing.

Relief eased the tension at the fact it wasn’t the gross remains of a rodent she'd stepped on first thing in the morning, was quickly replaced as her mind caught up with her more, eyes following the mess to its source: the torn up plush.

A little sound of surprise left her lips as she knelt down, scooping up the remains of the innocent toy.

A pain ran through her chest, guilt washing over her all over again. She clutched the toy tighter, thoughts pooling ever darker until the sound of the balcony door sliding open ran a steak through them.

Sun walked through the threshold, looking sour as he stepped out of Moon’s sweatpants. He grimaced slightly when one foot got caught in a leg, hopping a bit in an effort to free it.

“Did you do this?” Tabby turned towards the balcony.

“Do what?” Sun asked, leaning down to pull the sweatpants off his foot, once bare he turned and shut the glass door completely.

“This!” Tabby held up the toy, tone a bit more sharp.

His faceplate tilted up, he padded closer curiously. Looking over the mess, his rays retracted.

“….no.” Sun answered softly, worry and hurt thick in his voice, leaving Tabby little room to question.

“What did Moon do last night?” She asked, worry thick.

“I…don’t know.” Sun admitted turning away. He padded to the hall closet, busying himself with getting dressed to make distance between them.

Tabby didn’t relent, watching him expectantly.

Sun pulled on his hoodie slowly, going on, “I went into full rest mode…I have no idea what Moon did…”

He crossed the apartment to place Moon’s outfit on the counter to wash later. Taking a breath he didn’t need to steady himself to turned back towards her, coming closer as he spoke, “Maybe we can get you another one?” Sun offered, hopeful. He forced a smile to accompany his words.

“I’m not upset about losing this!” She held up the toy for emphasis. Seeing Sun’s smile falter at the volume of her voice, Tabby softened, wiping her cheek with the back of her hand. She sniffed, “I just…am worried and sad he would do this. I don’t know how to help, he never wants to talk to me and I just keep fucking things up…”

“Starlight…” Sun hummed, leaning closer to her.

“I don’t know what to do.” She sniffed, looking up at him.

Sun tilted his faceplate to bonk softly against her forehead, smile fully faltering. He thought for a moment, optics shifting about.

“I can try to fix this?” He offered, cupping a large hand around her much smaller ones, cradling the toy within.

“Could you?”

“Can definitely try.” He nodded, adding more softly, “I need more material though…”

“I can take care of that part.” Tabby wiped at her face more. Sniffing hard she mumbled, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He hummed, taking the toy to carefully set on the table. Sun urged her closer, scooping her up in a hug.

“I’ll get snot on your shirt.” She huffed, relaxing into his hold.

“I’m used to it.” Sun hummed.

Tabby shot him a sharp look. She didn’t crythat much!

Practically reading her thoughts, Sun reminded, “I watch a baby three times a week.”

“Ooooh…right.” She softened.

“Silly.” Sun chuckled, curling his body around her affectionately.

“Mr. Sun?” Dakota’s voice broke the animatronic from his trance.

Sun blinked back into the present, looking down at the young girl. Her dark eyes were big and worried.

“Are you okay?” She asked, tilting her head.

They sat at her little art table, coloring and making crafts together. Tabby had been at work for hours now, this being one of the babysitting days.

Sun’s optics shifted down, jumping a bit in surprise.

The crayon he’d been using prior now lay snapped in his tightened grasp.

“Oh I’m so so so sorry!” He exclaimed, guilt washing over him as he dropped the broken tool as if it burned him.

“It’s ok, Mr. Sun.” Dakota reached out to pat his arm. Her concern melted his heart.

“I’ll replace this.” Sun looked down at the broken crayon again, “I promise, I’ll bring a new box Wednesday, little comet. I’m so so sorry.”

“We can still color with it.” Dakota smiled finally, cocking her head downwards to ask, “What’ure you drawing?”

Sun glanced down at his picture, realizing he’d drawn a messy version of Moon in his stupor. His rays retracted. “I…uh…I drew Moondrop.” He looked up to ask quietly, “Do you remember him at all?”

“His candy!” Dakota nodded, standing up to race into the other room.

Sun shifted to check on the baby, finding him still resting after his afternoon bottle. Just as he turned back to the table, the girl returned with a book. She held it up proudly, showing off an open page.

“It’s Moondrop!” She announced, pointing a tiny finger to the page. It was a book with brief information about the animatronics from the Plex: this page in particular showing the iconic poster with the character Moon was based on.

It was an odd feeling, every time Sun saw the characters they were made to model, like he was wearing someone else’s skin.

And in a way…he supposed he was.

“Yes, Star.” Sun nodded, “That’s Moon.”

Dakota nodded along with him, beaming.

The realization that that poster was her only reference for his counterpart dawned on him.

She turned the book back towards herself, looking it over with a more serious look on her little face. Pouting out her lip in concentration, she asked, “Where does he work?”

“Well, he works with me.” Sun informed softly.

“But I never see him!”

“No…”

“Is he sick?”

“Kind of.”

“Can we make him soup?” She asked sweetly, “Mommy says soup makes you feel better.”

Sun smiled, shaking his head gently, “Soup won’t help, I’m afraid.”

“Awwwww….” She sulked.

“Thank you, though.” Sun reached out to ruffle her hair, “It’s awful sweet of you.”

She giggled, previous discouragement quickly forgotten.

Sun was quiet, watching as the child returned to her crafts.

He felt far away from the colorful little table.

“I stopped at the craft store on the way home.” Tabby sighed, holding out a bag at arms length.

Sun carefully took it, glancing inside as she went on, “I tried to get matching fabric from memory but….”

“It won’t be the same…” Sun finished her thought, voice sounding defeated.

“Should it be?” She ventured.

Sun’s rays drooped, agreeing, “I suppose not.”

They both turned to look at the toy, sitting broken and sad on the coffee table. Tabby reached out to squeeze Sun’s free hand a bit, making him let out a little sound. His head tilted towards her, murmuring, “Go rest for a bit…I’ll work on this.”

“Are you sure?” She asked, offering, “Can I help?”

“Not enough room for extra hands.” He admitted, but added softly, “Thank you, though. I can handle this, Sunshine.”

She nodded, going to take some medicine before laying down.

It was dark by the time she woke, bolting up a bit. She grabbed her phone: 9:31 pm…

Moon was in the same spot he found himself any night recently that weather would allow…on the apartment’s rooftop.

He lay on his back, staring up into the night sky. His hoodie had been left in the apartment, clad in only the old grey sweatpants and his hat.

Moonlight mixed with the glowing lights of the city reflected off the bare metal of his chest. Moon’s hand absentmindedly felt over the exoskeleton of his chest, fingers tracing the seams of cured silicone that littered them. Optics never leaving the sky, wishing to see the stars more clearly.

The light pollution and smog made them very difficult to make out even to his mechanical vision. His fingers curled in harder to his chest, threatening to damage the casing, closing his eyes to the yawning feeling of longing.

A sound made him sit up suddenly, faceplate swirling towards the fire escape. The metal creaked with added weight, the clink of shoes to follow. A pastel form appeared, Moon’s fight or flight response warning as he realized it was only Tabby.

She huffed, lifting herself over the lip of the roof. Brushing some of the rust from her clothes she padded over to where he sat.

She’d never followed him up to the roof before…

“Hey big guy.” Her voice was soft, guarded.

Moon looked her up and down, eyes reverting back to their normal half lidded state as his surprise waned. He huffed out, “Dangerous for you.” As he lay back down.

“You like to point that out a lot.” Tabby snickered, kneeling down beside him.

He made a dismissive sound, not offering her any other attention.

Tabby wilted a bit, following his gaze up into the sky. She wasn’t much for sky-watching, their place in the city guaranteeing a level of dissatisfaction to the hobby. Despite that, she attempted to get comfortable beside him, laying down on the concrete.

The cold of the roof seeped through her clothes quickly, sending a chill over her skin. Tabby crossed her arms over her chest, straining to look for any little lights in the dark sky.

They just lay there together, no idea for the time that passed. If not for the cold, Tabby would have started to drift a bit.

Moon made a sound, rousing her to attention.

“Why do they look…different?” Moon asked, voice gravely in its low tone.

“Hm?” She tilted her head slightly towards him.

“The stars.” He clarified, reaching his hand up towards the sky. His optics searched around as he tried to find the words, “So dark.” He pulled his hand back, clutching it to his chest, “….so far away?”

Tabby sighed softly, “It’s because we are in the city.”

Moon tilted his faceplate towards her, optic flicking away from the darkness.

“The lights drown them out.” She explained, “Out in the country, far away from any towns, they would be beautiful.” Her voice sounded wistful, closing her eyes as she painted the idea for her own mind as well.

“Have you?” He asked, voice hardly audible.

“Seen the stars?”

Moon rolled on his side, full attention on her now. A single claw scratched at the concrete roof, anticipation alighting his eyes.

“Never like that.” She admitted, a note of disappointment tinging the words.

Moon shifted a bit closer, the space between them warming up from shared heat. His teeth flashed a bit from his lip.

“Can we?” The words were light, much more than she’d heard from him in weeks. The shift in his melancholy blind-sighting her for a fleeting moment.

“See them together?” He asked more pointedly, part of him worried she misunderstood the question, while the other wrestled with the thought she wouldn’t want to spend the extra time together in the first place.

“That would be a long, long drive.” She admitted, watching him withdraw a bit. Quickly catching him before he completely hid away, she went on, “But…some day, I want to take you far away and see them.”

His gaze turned hopeful, a soft smile shadowing his lips. He nodded.

Tabby rolled back, looking up into the sky once more. A sigh left her, long and slow, as her mind wandered.

“I've hardly ever left the cities, just moving from one to another…” she admitted almost regretfully.

Moon watched her closely, single red optic never blinking.

“I want to see the ocean, and the mountains…” she thought aloud, wistfully, “So high we can touch the stars.”

“We?”

Rolling back on her side, Tabby nodded, “If you’d both come with me?”

Moon shifted, looking away as he clutched his hands to his chest. The sounds of the city as the only thing filling the silence between them.

“You don’t have to.” She soothed, voice gentle.

Moon shook his faceplate a bit, the metal making a hollow sound as it bonked against the concrete. His voice box seemed stuck with glue, words far away.

Tabby withdrew, mouth a thin line.

Sometimes they felt close, but all that warmth and familiarity could be washed away in a fleeting moment. Moon became quiet and hidden, bunching up in on himself to look small. He almost seemed scared?

Or maybe shy?

She thought, looking away as the gears turned in her head.

“Hey!” She exclaimed, excitement infecting her tone as she sat up suddenly.

Moon jumped at the sudden outburst, fans kicking up as he looked at her wide eyed.

“Let do something fun, yea?” She leaned over him, propping herself up on her hands.

Moon looked completely bewildered, hands going to wring his hat a bit without thinking.

“I know things have been…strained…between us.” She gave an awkward smile, “But maybe going out together is just what we need!”

“G-going out?” He echoed the words, optics widening further.

“Yea!” Tabby beamed, “I know somewhere I think you’ll love!”

Moon looked away worriedly, making Tabby double down, “No, you’ll love it, I promise! We have to drive tho so you gotta put a coat on.”

“Worried I’ll get cold?” He huffed, goading a response.

Tabby huffed herself now, snapping back, “No! I just don’t want people to stare at your shiny naked ass.” She crossed her arms as she finished.

Moon gave a gravely laugh at that.

Apprehension, and Moon’s inherent dislike of the car, strained his mood. Whatever mirth tickled around his chest now absent as he crunched himself up to fit into her tiny front seat, knees almost touching his chin.

Tabby has changed her clothes into something a bit more sturdy and dark, hair tied tightly back in a bun. She didn’t normally go out looking like this, making Moon’s curiosity thicken.

He looked away quickly when she glanced his way, instead focusing on the streetlights as they passed beneath them.

“I’m sorry…” Tabby’s voice came softly, glancing away again from the road a bit as she clarified, “About the other day.”

Moon just huffed, shifting to look out the window.

She gripped the steering wheel a bit harder, rambling to fill the silence and to soothe her own guilt. “I shouldn’t just assume the worst about you…you know?” Eyes flicking to see if there was any reaction. When one didn’t come she sighed, “It was shitty of me.”

Moon’s hand raised to do a ‘so so’ gesture, faceplate never turning from the window.

Tabby drove in silence, the awkwardness threatening to eat her alive.

“What about some music?” She offered, hand already going to the radio.

Moon turned to give her a narrow look of warning, Tabby instantly putting both hands on the steering wheel again.

“Okay, no music then.” She felt sweat on her lower back, this maybe being her top three of worst car rides.

“This is it!” Tabby announced, bringing the car to a stop.

Moon furrowed his nonexistent eyebrows, faceplate tilting.

They were in the parking lot of a long abandoned fast food restaurant, one that sported a multi level indoor playpark. Many of the windows were boarded up with large pieces of plywood, outer walls covered in graffiti.

Tabby got out of the car, going to pop the trunk. Moon got out more slowly, still trying to take everything in.

The sound of the trunk closing drew his attention, a look of confusion over his face.

Tabby smiled mischievously, holding up some flashlights and a crowbar.

“Wanna have some fun?” She asked, wiggling the crowbar.

“Where did you get that?” Moon frowned.

She scoffed, handing him a flashlight he truly didn’t need, “They are like ten bucks on Amazon. Come on.” She gestured.

He followed close behind, still trying to piece things together.

She looked up at him, smirking, “You miss the jungle gym right?”

He gave a small nod.

“Well this one has your name aaaalllll over it.” Her voice tinged with excitement, “Let’s play.”

Moon tilted his head, optic widening. A smile crept across his faceplate, nodding eagerly as Tabby ripped off one of the boards sealing the back entrance.

Anticipation made his fans kick up as he helped pry the door open. It creaked open with the sound of splintering wood, dust raining down on them.

He peeked inside, smiling widening.

“I used to work here…” Tabby explained as they wandered through the derelict dining area, colorful seats coated in a layer of grime scattered around the many round tables.

Moon didn’t respond, faceplate swiveling about to take everything in: old drink cups and food wrappers littered the floor, a cutout of the chain’s mascot standing in a lone corner. It looked at them with a big painted smile.

“But this,” Tabby announced, pulling open a set of double doors, “This, is where the magic happens…”

Moon stalked forward, hunching over a bit to investigate.

This was the play area: a multi level jungle gym made of plastic tubing, slides, play areas on each level, and plastic windows. The colors were dulled by years of neglect, dust coating every surface. The room echoed with the sounds of their steps, Moon’s posture changing to excitement.

He was practically buzzing, wishing his zip line was here.

“Well…” Tabby gestured upwards, “Have at it!”

Not needing to be told a second time, Moon was off. Reminding her of a released greyhound.

He ran about like a wild animal, climbing up the structure inside and out. He was deft and fast, just a blue blur about the rainbow plastic.

Tabby sat on a dusty old chair to watch, leaning back a bit as a smile reached her lips.

Moon was laughing, jumping to the ceiling rafters with glee. As he jumped to the next it gave a low groan.

Tabby leaned forward, worriedly.

The rafter bowed before snapping, it and the animatronic falling into the play structure with a clatter.

“Moon!” Tabby yelled, standing and cupping her hands around her mouth to call out again, “Moon! Are you okay?!”

A tense moment of silence answered her, Tabby steeling herself to climb up just as a fit of giggles broke out.

Moon crawled out of the twisted metal, a large grin across his faceplate. He smiled down at her, giving a thumbs up.

Tabby deflated, calling up, “Be careful!”

“No!” He called back defiantly, quickly resuming his explorations.

Rolling her eyes, she sat back down, pulling her phone free from her pocket to pass the time. She got lost within the tiny screen, unsure of how many minutes ticked away.

A sound made her look up.

Moon looked at her expectantly.

“Play?” Moon hung upside down, bouncing a bit as he attempted to lure Tabby in. When she looked apprehensive he shook the bars harder, voice more urging, “Play, Play, Play?!”

“I think I’m too big, buddy.” She looked at the old structure nervously.

He paused, head tilting to the side. He crawled closer, “No. Very small. Fit juuuuust fine.”

She bit her lip, Moon wilting.

He hung more limply, whining out, “Star said we’d play?”

Tabby huffed, “I did, didn’t I…” she sounded defeated, making Moon perk up.

He rattled at the bars again, chanting for her to join.

Kicking off her boots, she reluctantly entered into the play structure, batting away the cobwebs that tried to cling to her hair and clothes. It took a good moment for her to traverse the maze to find the opening where Moon was waiting.

“Okay…I’m in the tubes.” Tabby huffed, shifting around to sit more comfortably, her feet up against the fall wall.

“Let’s play chase.” Moon smiled, big and wide, his optics shining, “You run and try to hide, and I come after you.”

“Sounds unfair.” She crossed her arms.

Moon shook his head, trying to keep an air of calm over him despite the excited vibration that rattled through his whole form. “No, no, no.” He corrected, “I’ll play fair, I promise.”

Tabby squared her jaw, leaning towards him a bit as she held out her right hand. “Pinky promise?” Her smallest finger offered out, almost as a challenge. Her sea green eyes flashed in the darkness.

Moon’s smile returned with a vengeance, eagerly shuffling closer in the small space. He locked his pinky finger with her own, rasping out, “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“You don’t have a heart.” She teased, making him roll his eyes.

“Cross my wires and hope to die.” He corrected lowly, optics narrowing.

Her lips cracked a smile.

But as she attempted to pull away, his finger gripped hers tighter, drawing her closer. She winced, eyes darting between the hold and his faceplate.

He leaned in closer still, huffing out synthetic breath into her ear. “The rules, kitten.” He whispered, “I’ll give you three minutes to hide before I start hunting. You can run as far and as fast as you want.” His voice was deadly low, causing a shiver to crawl up her spine.

“But if I win.” His smile spanned his faceplate, “If I catch you….You’ll be mine.”

As soon as the words sank in he let her go, the promise made.

He sat back on his haunches, detecting a spike in her heartbeat. Tabby swallowed, backing away to give herself room to breathe.

The dust heavy air suddenly felt stifling.

“One.”

Moon’s voicebox rasped, his claws flexing excitedly at Tabby’s sudden look of panic. She shuffled around to her hands and knees, stumbling over herself in her hurry to hide.

“Two…Three.”

His voice echoed off the plastic tubing. Tabby’s knees already aching from her crawl-running. No matter how far she seemed to go, his voice always seemed close, ever counting.

Finally she found a spot, far away and secluded, that she felt safe enough to stop. While trying to calm her thundering heartbeat she came to a sudden realization:

The counting stopped.

Tabby sucked in a breath, holding it in her lungs as she strained to listen.

The eerie silence was replaced with something even worse.

Moon was singing.

The animatronic’s gravelly voice sang along to his music box, glee evident in his tone alone.

“Round and round the cobbler's bench

The monkey chased the weasel

The monkey thought twas all in fun….”

The music stopped for just a fleeting moment. Tabby heard a bang much closer than she expected, hands going to her mouth to stifle a squeak.

“POP goes the weasel!”

The singing started again, much clearer:

“A penny for a spool of thread

A penny for a needle

That's the way the money goes…”

The scrape of metal against plastic echoed off the tubes, a gravelly voice chucked out the next line, “Pop goes the weasel!”

She bolted, adrenaline fueling her. An aching pain radiated through her knees as they scraped against the confined space, the old bolts holding the structure together snapping at her from static electricity. Her heart hammered in her ears.

All the while the singing continued, echoing around her.

He was everywhere, all at once. The image of his earlier romp flashing through her head: how quickly and easily he traversed the derelict structure.

“Round and round the mulberry bush

The monkey chased the weasel

The monkey stopped to pull up his socks…”

“POP goes the weasel!”

“Half a pound of tuppenny rice

Half a pound of treacle

Mix it up and make it nice!”

Tabby crawled through a cobweb, falling back a bit to sputter and wipe at her face. A red glow caught her eyes as the flash of teeth called out, “Pop goes the weasel!”

“Fuck!” She cursed, jumping into a nearby slide. Dust rained down, the bolts snapping and biting at her. One particularly loose one catching her hair and pulling it free of the bun.

Her sock clad feet hit an old play-mat, jolting her.

Shit.

She thought darkly, the slide only went to a different part of the structure instead of fully to the bottom. The darkness, mixed with the maze-like build had Tabby realizing she was thoroughly lost in the mess of rainbow plastic and foam coated bars.

She didn’t have long to mull over that as the singing picked up with a vengeance. Looking up, she just saw the animatronic dropping down on top the the layer she was currently in, giggling madly between words:

“Round and round the cobbler's bench

The monkey chased the weasel

The monkey thought twas all in fun!”

He was having the time of his life…

She thought before running again.

Like a scared little rabbit though its tunnels, as a viper hunted it down.

She burst out of the tube, falling into a small plastic room opening up somewhere within the structure. Tabby eyed another tube on the far side, trying to crawl toward it.

A hand shot out of the tube she just escaped, grabbing her ankle.

“Pop goes the weasel!”

Tabby squeaked, falling on her side as she was pulled backwards. She looked back, stomach suddenly dropping.

Moon was upside down, clinging to the top of the tube as he effortlessly crawled forward. His face was illuminated red by his optics, teeth looking exaggerated in the low light. He looked terrifying.

Oh fuck.

Tabby thought.

This was a mistake…

She kicked off his hold, trying to make a last ditch effort towards the far tube. She didn’t make much progress.

He darted from the tube on all fours, dropping down easily from the ceiling seconds earlier. A finger hooking into a belt loop of her jeans, pulling backwards.

Tabby lost balance, falling to her stomach.

“Fuck!” She yelped.

He pressed against her, faceplate dipping in dangerously close to her face. Tabby tried to raise up, her head being forced back into the plastic beneath her instantly. Moon’s hand tangled in her hair, using just enough force to keep her in place.

A low chuckle escaped him, making her tremble.

“I won.” He hummed into her ear, body caging her in.

“M-Moon?” She started, his hold tightening a bit to pull on her hair. She winced, falling silent.

“Shhhhhh.” He hissed.

The space felt hot, the smell of plastic making her head spin. She could hear the sound of Moon’s fans kicking up, steam a coming threat if he couldn’t cool his systems.

He carefully pulled down the collar of her oversized sweater, artificial breath huffing over her skin. Feeling her tremble, he chuckled again, low and slow.

After everything she was going to die in a stupid fast food play place…

She thought darkly.

Tabby felt teeth scrape the nape of her neck, panic pulling her back into the present. She tried to raise up on all fours, unable to with the weight of the animatronic over her. Moon clasp a hand over her mouth, stifling her yelping.

He forced his faceplate more into her, biting down. His teeth sank into the space between neck and shoulder, only using enough pressure to mark her.

Tabby’s body surged with adrenaline, and…was that arousal? Back arching at her body’s own will.

Moon faltered, hand slipping to allow a mewl to leave her lips. Sensing her vitals he pressed more into her, teeth popping skin. His tongue bathed over it in a mixture of curiosity and the desire to soothe the sting.

Her mewl thickened into a moan at that, Tabby trying to swallow the sound in embarrassment. He tilted his head at the sound, tongue trailing up the back of her neck until his mouth pressed against her ear.

“Fighting so hard.” He jeered, “Yet you enjoy every moment.”

She started to struggle again, Moon propping himself up to allow her to wiggle onto her back. She hissed, bite stinging as it hit the hard plastic through her shirt.

She froze, eyes locking onto his, catching her breath.

His optics were half lidded and hungry, a large hand moving to caress her face. Tabby could feel her heartbeat in her throat, the space suddenly feeling closed in and intimate.

Moon’s thumb moved to swipe across her lip, Tabby opening slightly unintentionally. His optics were fixed there.

“Moon?” She whispered.

Gaze flicking back to her eyes, he looked like a man starved.

She reached for him and that last thread snapped. Separate storms collided, crashing into one another.

His lips pressed against hers, warm to the touch. She closed her eyes, pushing back against him. Moon took seconds to force his tongue into her mouth, curiously exploring her taste.

It was odd, the animatronic not producing saliva or any kind of moistening agent in their mouths. His tongue was dry, tasting almost sterile. She could only detect the smallest hints of copper, wondering if that was her own blood instead of anything truly his.

Artificial breath huffed out, mixing with her own as he pulled back ever so slightly. Tabby panted, staring up at him, face crimson. He licked his teeth, a smile slicing his face in two before he ducked back in. Whatever he tasted on her, he clearly enjoyed it.

It was nothing like a human kiss, mouths too mismatched for that; yet it was zealous and needy, making her feel wanted in ways she never thought possible. Tabby held onto him as he lifted her, pushing her gently into the wall of the opening.

Quickly feeling overwhelmed, Tabby broke the kiss for needed hair. She hugged him, face against the soft material of his hoodie. Moon made a sound akin to a purr, shifting back to sit.

She tried to even her breathing, legs easily wrapping around his narrow waist for stability. Moon leaned back, faceplate clinking against the plastic wall, fans in overdrive to cool his systems.

“So I guess you enjoyed the tubes.” Tabby huffed, relaxing a bit in his hold. He made a rasping chuckle.

“Who knew letting you run around like a feral animal was all you needed to open up. She sighed, teasing in her tone.

Moon put a hand over her face, stifling sounds, “Shut up.”

They rested in the darkness for some moments, Moon clicking on his music box to fill the silence. A realization dawned on Tabby, however, sitting up. Moon opened his eyes, tilting his head to the side.

“Wait.” She thought aloud, “Wait, wait, wait….I thought we needed like a bonding exercise or something because we weren’t as close. But you just kissed me!” She turned, pointing at him, “We’re you just shy the whole time?!?”

Moon gawked at her for a moment, suddenly pulling his hat down, hiding his face.

“Oh. My. God.” Tabby playfully hit him, “You were!” She wrestled him for a moment to get the hat off but as soon as his face was revealed she made another upset sound.

Optics were black, faceplates frozen…Moon had shut off his faceplate.

“That’s no fair!” Tabby stood on her knees, grabbing a limp arm, “I've caught you this time!” She showily bit at his forearm, blunt teeth clinking against the metal.

Moon made a smirking sound, optics blinking back to life, it thickening into full laughter as she tried to look intimidating.

“Brat.” He took her face to stop her biting, smiling toothily at her.

“You have no room to judge.”

S: She’s right…

M: Shut up.

Tabby was home, cleaned up, and safely tucked in bed, Moon waited quietly until her breathing evened.

He carefully stood from the bed, having cuddled Tabby to sleep after their little adventure. Looking back, his optics scanned over her peaceful form, taking in every little piece of her

A smile reached his faceplate, feeling lighter than he had in weeks.

Moon crossed the room, closing the door with programmed delicacy. Main directive complete he now had another job to work on…

Moon typed away at the computer, careful to listen for the door across the hall.

He was snooping again…

But this time, by request.

His optics scanned the screen, shifting to look at the medical discharge paperwork and compare information.

Yes.

He’d found it.

“Sun.” He murmured, looking over the information, “I got in.”

S: You actually did it?

S: You’d think hospitals would have better security…

M: It took me weeks…

S: True, true.

Moon read on a bit more, sighing.

M: There’s not much here…

S: She really hate’s hospitals.

M: Enough to not go for broken bones.

Moon shifted through the files, finding no record of her seeing medical professionals for the past fractures that the animatronics had discovered through scans. Fractures that healed oddly.

S: Check when she was a child.

M: I am.

M: ….

M: Nope. Nothing.

Sun was quiet, yet Moon could practically hear his worry. Moon looked further to discover Tabby made yearly visits to the doctors fairly religiously until five years ago. His brows furrowed.

S: She didn’t go after the fire to protect us…

S: Even though she was burned.

Moon’s frown deepened, remembering the multiple fracture points, healed in little knots of bone. She’d been lucky they hadn’t been full breaks, still things of that nature left untreated was risky.

S: Who was she protecting then?

#he did it boys #boy likes to bite #a bit of action #the car the sun and the moon #fnaf sun/moon #fnaf fanfic #sun/moon x oc #moon x oc

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sheldoney · 4 months

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THE ROOMMATE AGREEMENT | MEMES | PROMO | HEADCANONS | VERSES ↓ ↓ ↓

affiliates: @qu-tipie, @smolcuriouskitten, @godclaws, @acceptedrisk, @hollowvictory, @clockchimes, @merveiilles

1. I don’t have many rules just one big one. Do not lie to me about your age. If you are underage. I’ll block you. Final word. Wanna know mine? Just ask. I am 21+ I only write with those over 21+. Discord is mobile and only available for close friends and mutuals only. I DO NOT ROLEPLAY OVER DISCORD. I AM DASH ONLY. If I do hand out my discord I am always invisible or away. Don’t take offense. Leave me a message and I will get to you as soon as I see it! I rely heavily on Tumblr IMs for other communication purposes.

2.I AM NOT A THEORETICAL PHYSICIST. I BS MY WAY AND JUST GO BY THE CANON OF THE BIG BANG THEORY. (kinda sorta not really though I am trying to redeem Sheldon as he was treated terribly and portrayed horribly on the show. He said some things I do not condone or agree with according to TBBT LORE.This is not Jim Parsons’ fault.) BTW GOOGLE IS MY BEST FRIEND. BTW This is a Jim Parsons appreciation blog also.

3. I DO SHIP SHENNY/ I SHIP SHAMY. IF YOU HAVE A PROBLEM WITH SHENNY AS MOST DO IN THE BIG BANG FANDOM DO NOT FOLLOW THIS BLOG. I ALSO HAVE CRACKSHIPS ON THIS BLOG. IF YOU DO NOT AGREE WITH THEM DO NOT FOLLOW THIS BLOG.I also ship Sheldon and Chemistry amongst Muses. Sheldon Cooper is “canonically” asexual and not interested in coitus. But I do write him differently because I don't follow strict canon. I will not be writing smut on here or any s.exual content. I have a separate blog for “spicy” interactions. I will only be giving out the blog to Sheldon’s ships. It is NS.FW. Sheldon is not a cheater or your one night stand. Do not assume so. If you would like to pursue a relationship with Sheldon please talk to me about it beforehand.

4.DO NOT TOUCH SHELDON COOPER AT ALL UNLESS YOU KNOW HIM FIRST AND HAVE KNOWN HIM FOR A WHILE ( PENNY CAN TOUCH HIM ) /ANYONE INVOLVED IN A RELATIONSHIP OR PREESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIPS CAN TOUCH HIM.

5. DO NOT BULLY SHELDON. ROAST HIM. THERE IS A DIFFERENCE. HE HAS BEEN BULLIED ALL OF HIS LIFE AND I WILL SHUT THAT DOWN SO FAST YOU WON’T EVEN BLINK. I WON’T TOLERATE IT AND NEITHER WILL HE.

6.I USE XKIT REWRITTEN. I trim my posts, you don’t have but I will trim yours. It is just a simple click for me. I do not roleplay in the ask box. If you have intentions of continuing a thread please @ me in something. Thank you.

7. I am very picky about who I write with. If I like your writing I will follow you. I don’t expect a follow back but do know I am interested in plotting something with you in the future. I am not a follow for follow. I am here for interactions, simply.

8. I have no problem writing in other fandoms. Especially horror/thriller/supernatural/etc...I adore crossovers.

9.I am not always available.Please be patient with me for replies. I do have a life outside of Tumblr. I keep weird hours. If it says I am online, chances are I am not. I am probably by the computer but doing something else.

10. I promise I am friendly. I just like to curate my space. Do not try to involve me in gossip or any of that malarkey, please and thanks.

11. I AM LGBTQ+ MOST OF MY FRIENDS ARE LGBTQ+ MY FACECLAIM IS LGBTQ Homophobia, Transphobia, ETC ETC ETC will not be tolerated and you will be blocked if I see it.

12.ICONS & GRAPHICS & HEADCANONS. My icons are made by @butscrewmefirst . Some icons I have gathered from insanejournal and fanpop and altered them slightly. Please use icons or gif icons/small gifs in your replies. My computer takes forever to load large images. All headcanons are my own. Please do not lift anything from this blog. Thank you.

13.EXCLUSIVE & MAINS.As of right now I have certain exclusive canon characters that I will only write with on this blog. I will not write with any other portrayals of Harley Quinn using Samara Weaving as their faceclaim or other Heath Ledger’s Jokers. I will also not write with other Sheldon Coopers. I am sure you are all tremendous but I prefer not to interact with any other duplicates. If you would like to be a main or an exclusive in Sheldon’s universe please come and speak to me about it.

#(do not reblog)

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little-peril-stories · 6 months

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Whumptober 2023, Day 26: "You look awful."

Whumptober 2023 Masterlist

Read at your own risk! They're only snippets of a larger story, with no resolution that will be posted online anytime soon; they are being posted out of order; and the characters don't have names. Enjoy!

Contents: prison camp, forced labour, infected wounds, bullying, humiliation, taunting, restraints, all the delicious things

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Word count: 2150 || Approx reading time: 9 mins

"You look awful."

Teaser: The heat was cruel, not just to him, of course, but to all who toiled beneath it. The back of his neck, his face, and his arms all stung as salty sweat and flecks of dirt ground into his sunburnt skin.

“Whichever road I take, I’ll be incurring someone's wrath.”

Thoughts had all but faded into silence.

Dull buzzing filled the scholar’s mind, the only thing he could coax himself to produce. That he used to read—and write—academic texts, to spend hours poring over books and filling his mind with all the wondrous knowledge he could get his hands on, was nothing now but a sick joke.

He wasn’t like her. She’d loved working outside. It was who she was—a girl of sunlight, of green leaves, of fresh air, bracing wind, fragrant rain, pollen and petals, wings and feathers and earth and sky. He’d never understood, but he loved her for it. He loved her. He loved her. Always had. Still did. Always would.

You killed her.

I didn’t.

You killed him.

I did it for her.

You deserve this.

Did he? Under her blazing sun, more exhausted than he’d ever been, with callouses on his fingers and chains on his feet, he wasn’t certain anymore.

The heat was cruel, not just to him, of course, but to all who toiled beneath it. The back of his neck, his face, and his arms all stung as salty sweat and flecks of dirt ground into his sunburnt skin.

That discomfort was nothing, of course, compared to the wounds on his chest.

Insisting to himself the pain was not so terrible, he kept his eyes on the ground. If he didn’t keep his gaze trained on the task at hand, it would fall on the hostile glares that followed him everywhere he went. If the eye contact didn’t set off another round of taunts, jeers, and retribution for a crime he had not committed…well, then it would still remind him of how thoroughly meaningless his life had become.

The cuts were festering; he was certain of it. Instead of healing as they should, the letters throbbed red-hot, infection encouraged not only by a knife that must have been teeming with filth but also by the grains of black powder rubbed into the broken skin—like salt in the wound but infinitely worse, for it did not merely burn. It stained.

And every time he looked down at his own skin, he was forced to reckon with what he was—visible now to anyone else who knew where to look.

Water, soap—no use. He wasn’t convinced that even magic, if he met a healer who might be willing to put their hands on him, would scour away the gruesome art piece on his chest.

He blinked and kept moving. That was all he could do. If he stopped, everyone would look at him, prisoners and guards alike. The prisoners would simply sneer their insults and threats—in fact, they would anyway. But if the guards grew impatient, they might grow angry. And if the guards grew angry, they might grow violent.

He didn’t need any more pain, nor any more marks on his skin.

But the sun was beating down, hot as the hateful stares of everyone around him, and the air was heavy and humid, and his bones were so weary and his muscles ached as they never had before, and the letters, they burned—

“Get up,” the nearest guard said, and the scholar realized he had dropped to his knees.

Gods, if he lifted that whip—

“I told you to get up.”

All too cognizant of the laughter drifting in fragments around him and only getting louder, the scholar stood.

“Keep. Digging.”

Nodding, the scholar did.

Whether or not he deserved it no longer seemed relevant. Whether or not he would survive it—far more pressing.

“What’s the matter, professor?” someone howled. “Not feeling good?”

He clenched his jaw and didn’t look up.

“Bit sore, Book Boy? Getting tired?”

Ignoring them, he knew, was the only solution, the only weapon he had. They’d clobber him on a good day, even if he wasn’t on the verge of collapse—and they knew it.

The taunts ebbed and flowed in time with the rotation of the patrolling guards—when those braided-leather whips got too close, the others were quiet. As the guards walked on, though…

“Gonna keep saying you didn’t do it, are you?”

“When we get to do round two?”

“Come on, thought you were a big, powerful guy. Killed a soldier, didn’t you? I wanna see how strong you are. When’s my turn to have a go?”

“Yeah, you better hide that ugly face, coward.”

“Still got nothing to say? How’s about—”

“Gods. You look awful.”

The scholar froze.

No. That voice—it couldn’t be—

As taken by surprise as he was, apparently, the guards started barking orders at the inmates. Someone shoved the scholar back to his knees, but this time, everyone else knelt, too.

He was here.

Guards were stammering out questions, wondering why the prince had come—to this, of all places, to this stinking pit of the unredeemable, the vile, and the depraved.

“I’m here for him.” The scholar didn’t need to look up from the dirt where he’d been digging in straight lines for hours to prepare for the construction of a new road. He knew the prince was waving a lazy hand toward him.

He had also known this day would come: that his stint as a labourer would end, his supposed reprieve from the reality that he was a murderer—that, at the end of the day, murderers had to die.

A few whoops and jibes rose from somewhere around him, but a guard roared for silence, and the command was obeyed.

“Been busy making friends, I see.” The prince was before him, staring down with pitiless amusement. “How terribly unlike you.”

The scholar swallowed and did not speak.

“Come on, now. Didn’t we used to be friends? Speak. Have you been making acquaintance with the other killers and traitors?”

The scholar didn’t move, and still he said nothing.

“Hmm.” The prince sighed softly, rampant disgust in the quiet exhale. “And here I thought you were such a grand coward.” He lowered his voice. “That’s the story I heard, anyway. Murdering the weak and defenceless, and whatnot.”

The scholar’s face burned.

“Disobeying an order from your prince, however? That’s new. You’ve changed. Didn’t I ask you a question?”

The scholar didn’t raise his head—merely stared at the grime and blood crusted underneath his nails and tried not to think of how they were the dirtiest they’d ever been. He tried not to think of the eyes, far too many, that were fixed on his back. He tried not to think of the man who stood before him and how his hands had been the ones to hold her prisoner, and his words the ones to obliterate the scholar’s reputation. And he tried with every fibre being not to dwell on his inevitable exodus from the hell of the camp, or on what reason could impel the prince to summon him into fresh misery.

“Gonna get yours, pervert,” someone hissed, and this time, nobody told them to be silent.

The prince chucked as if he’d heard. “No matter. Get up. You’re coming with me.”

Muscles long used to obeying orders—he had devoted his whole life to this royal family, until that fateful day—twitched in the desire to do as they were told. The scholar bid them to be still.

Something sharp and stinging slashed over the scholar’s back, and he gasped at the fresh, searing pain.

“You know you’re coming back with me whether you like it or not,” the prince said. The scholar took a dim measure of satisfaction in the surprise colouring the prince’s voice. “Now get on your feet before I have someone assist you.”

The scholar knew everyone watched him still—now, not simply because they expected him to be thoroughly humiliated by the prince who’d sent him away in chains, but also to see if the commander-killer were as audacious as he spent so much time pretending to be.

There was no question in his mind that the prince would make good on his threat to order one of his men to assist him in rising from the ground, nor that the manner of assistance would be less than gentle. Without a doubt, the scholar would be hauled away from the camp no matter what he chose. And wherever he went, the whispers would follow, wouldn’t they?

Finally, the scholar raised his head until he met the prince’s gaze.

The summer-lush grass, soon to be dead and torn from the earth, was crushed beneath his knees; the earth under it pressed back, rigid and unyielding in the heat. Above, dotted with distance birds of prey soaking up the sun’s warmth, the sky was a sleek, brilliant blue. Before him, the prince waited, the silk of his jacket waving in the breeze. “Well, well. After all this time, look who’s grown a spine.”

He nodded toward one of the royal guards he had brought with him, and the scholar was wrestled to his feet—not before one of them cuffed him on the side of his head for his recalcitrance, which sent his cracked, near-useless glasses askew. He didn’t know why he bothered wearing them anymore; being able to see or not made little difference. They could throw him around, shackle him, and do as they pleased—and they had.

The scholar gave a strangled cry as a guard accidentally nudged the wounds on his chest. At the sound, the prince’s eyes narrowed. “So you haven’t lost your voice entirely, then. What’s wrong with you?”

When the scholar didn’t answer, the prince jerked his head at his guards again, and a rough hand tore at his shirt, pulling just enough to reveal the glistening, inflamed skin. At the sight, the prince cursed, then chuckled.

“I suppose that answers my question,” he said, glancing around at the inmates still kneeling and waiting for permission to return to work. “It doesn’t appear you’ve made any friends here at all.”

Without warning, he stepped forward, for the first time putting his hands on the scholar himself, eliciting a gasp when he touched one of the seeping wounds. “Murderer,” he read, revealing the word, “and pervert? Gods, seems like you’ve made yourself a charming set of enemies, in fact.” He shifted his hand upward and forced the scholar to look up from the ground. “There’s no question about what you are, is there?”

The scholar tried to move his head, to look away. His effort only earned him another blow to the back of his head.

“Answer me,” the prince said softly, tightening his grip just enough that the scholar’s jaw began to ache.

The scholar forced out, “I know what I am.”

Silence coated the land around them.

“Yes,” said the prince, smiling now, “as do I. A failure.” Snickers rolled through the kneeling inmates. “And if you, in fact, have not accepted that to be true…you will soon.” He tilted the scholar’s face from side to side, let go and plucked at the filthy shirt. “Any other delightful decorations I should be aware of? Any more injuries, before I take you back?”

“Just hurry,” the scholar said, “just get on with it and let me die already.” He was tired, so tired. From the work. From the infection. From the guilt. From wondering of where she had gone after she fled. From the constant, cutting terror of what might happen if she were found again.

Someone ordered him to show some respect, a laughable suggestion if he’d ever heard one, and the strike that landed sent him reeling. Chained now, he hit the ground hard, writhing in the dirt where he’d been toiling mere minutes before.

“Oh,” said the prince. “You think you’re going to your execution, do you?”

He turned, giving orders to his royal guards and to the ones who patrolled the camp, not another glance or word spared for the scholar. One of the iron-gripped soldiers wrenched him to his feet yet again and informed him that if he didn’t walk, he’d be dragged away, and that it was his choice. To himself, the scholar laughed, for choice had become an entirely foreign entity.

This fact was something no one else seemed to understand, for when he’d been loaded into a wagon, the prince addressed him again. His eyes roamed over the shackles, the magic-suppressing bands, the limp way the scholar’s shirt hung off his shoulder to reveal the cursed black letters on his skin. “If only,” he said, “you’d made the right choice, perhaps we wouldn’t be here.”

“I would do it again,” the scholar said. If the choice had been to help her escape or to let her be caught and subject her to the prince’s whims instead, what choice had ever existed at all?

Pearly teeth flashed as the door closed. “Well, you say that now, old friend. But we shall see.”

Previous | Masterlist | Next

#whumptober2023 #no.26 #lyric #“Sometimes I get so tired I don’t even know myself.”#Working to exhaustion #“You look awful.”#oc #original content #fic #tw prison camp #tw forced labour #tw prison labour #tw infected wounds #tw bullying #tw humiliation #tw taunting #tw restraints

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fayegumi · 1 year

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Umino Mitsuki moi-même

From Feburary Graph 2023

Umino Mitsuki

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

In a time like this, what would she do? Various questions with two possible answers, let’s have a look at this lovely musumeyaku!

Questions

You have until tomorrow to create a hair arrangement!! But you’re exhausted today. What do you do?

Stay up all night and do it.

Sleep for now, wake up early and do it.

Stay up all night and do it (laughs) ! Especially during rehearsals, I’ll do it once, then again to fix it up... That’s my routine, so if I don’t get a start on it early, I’ll start fretting over it. There’s also a lot of times where I’ll work through the night, only for the sun to start to rise, but if I have 3 hours I’ll still sleep (laughs).

2. What will you wear tomorrow?

Decide the day before

Wake up early and decide based on how you feel

When I have a photo shoot or something I’ll decide early, but during mornings with nothing going on, I’ll start by deciding on my hair. I’m mostly in rehearsals, so my highest priority is deciding what hairstyle I’ll have during rehearsals that day. However, when I’m getting into my role, my hairstyle will have the same type of vibe everyday, so to match my hair and earrings, I also change what I’m wearing. Depending on what role I have, my clothing taste will inevitably be decided by that.

3. Morning routine?

Get going immediately

Relax for now

When I wake up I immediately brew coffee, does that count as getting going immediately? (laughs) But drinking it is my time to lay back, so I guess it’s more relaxing. My cat will also wake me up sometimes, so recently I wake up super early. Even if rehearsals are at 1 o’clock, I’ll wake up at 7 or 8. Because I hate rushing (laughs), I make plenty of time to get ready to leave.

4. Breakfast?

Japanese food

Western food

I boil vegetables without seasoning in advance, then that day depending on my mood I’ll add it to miso or consomme, so would that be Japanese food or Western food? Ah, but, in order to avoid iron deficiency, lately I’ve been eating meat for breakfast. I eat roast beef made from grass fed beef (cows raised on only grass) garnished with baby leaves so maybe more so Western food. I eat rice but also don’t. I make onigiri and bring it to the theater to eat before rehearsals.

5. Leaving for rehearsals!

I bring just what I need !

Paranoid... so I over pack...

My day-to-day luggage is the minimum, but in case something happens I have a bunch of spare leotards and skirts in my theater locker. So I have ultra-large luggage on the first day of rehearsals (laughs).

6. Tomorrow you have the day off for the first time in a while!

Ya-y! I’m gonna stay up late!

I want to do some things from the morning so I’ll go to sleep early

I do both of these~! I like movies, so if there’s stuff I want to watch I’ll stay up until 1 or 2 A.M., but despite that I’ll still wake up early, so I guess B. Especially on days off I don’t really sleep and wake up early and get done all the housework I can do!

7. You’re going to spend the whole-day at home!

Don’t leave the house all day

Go outside for a bit for fresh air

I won’t leave (laughs). During stay at home I did a lot of de-cluttering and rearranging and my ventilation got better, so spending time at home is a lot more pleasant. There’s a chair and table on my veranda, so if I want fresh air I’ll relax there. During days where I’m at home all day I will watch movies and YouTube and do my meal prep.

8. You’re going out today. What will you do?

Stick to a plan

Go as heart your heart desires

Before I leave my house, I make a precise plan. Even if I can’t find clothes I want to buy in my allotted time, it’s a waste of time to just continue wandering looking for it, I’ll just go buy something online and move onto my next plan (laughs). If there’s something I’ve decided I want beforehand, I’ll call ahead to see if they have it in-stock then head out. During times when I have nothing but 1 day off, some level of effort is important (laughs).

9. If you’re going out...

Hands down, go alone

Invite someone out

Alone (immediate response). I think it would be impossible to date me, maybe (laughs). If I do go out shopping with someone, it’s about Costco level (laughs). If we go out for tea or food, you don’t decide on a time to leave and stay for hours, but that’s hard to do right now...

10. You found a piece of clothing you like♡

Bought it!

Look at other stores and carefully decide

There’s of course times where I took my time to decide, but other than that, there’s a lot of times where I think, “I want this!” then buy it. There’s times where it got to the point I wouldn’t even look at the price and buy it (laughs).

11. If you start to get hungry?

Go into a restaurant alone

Go home

I bear the hunger, and eat once I get home. Because if I didn’t I’d mess up my schedule and I hate that (laughs). It’s different when I include lunch time in my schedule from the start, but if that’s not the case, I feel like it’s time wasted ordering and then waiting for the food.

12. Today is all you can eat! What do you take on?

Yakiniku

Sweets

I think if this was a while ago I would answer sweets, but lately I’ve been all about eating healthy foods. I’ve always loved meat, and it really hasn’t been the best situation to go out to eat in, so if I were able to do all you can eat, hands down yakiniku. If I say I’m gonna eat, then I can eat quite a bit. I also love rice, so after eating a bunch of meat, I’d want to top it off with some rice.

#umino mituski #mitsuki umino #takarazuka #tsukigumi #moon troupe

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vegetarian-macan · 2 months

Text

Chapter 8: Rulers of Ikebukuro

SORRY <3 WAS NOT HAVING A #GOOD TIME LAST YEAR Content warnings will be updated later but I don't really think there's anything in here besides violence?

The gentle whir of a laptop. Heavy curtains closed to block the morning light, plunging the room into darkness. Shiro sat at his desk, his eyes feeling glazed over as he forced himself to stay awake. He could get some rest in a bit, god knows he needed it, but….

On the screen in front of him was a chatroom, the website completely black and empty save for the glowing white borders of the chat box and the words [ALHAZRED IS ONLINE]. Shiro adjusted his glasses, nearly missing the bridge of his nose entirely before beginning to type out a message.

08:36[ALHAZRED] Hello Cain, are you there?

Shiro leaned back in his chair, letting out a sigh. Now he just had to wait for a response. It wasn’t necessarily early in the day— a glance at the clock at the bottom right of the laptop screen showed it was just past 8:30 a.m.— but he knew Cain woke up rather early, so his availability was up in the air.

As the minutes passed along without a response, Shiro looked over to the Necromicon sitting at the edge of his desk, near his phone. He had set it there before turning in for the night (or morning). It hadn’t disappeared like Sora’s sword did, and even in a state of disuse, the book still eerily pulsed with energy, a low thrumming he only noticed now seemingly pouring from the pages. A gentle ding like a tinkling of a bell dissipated the sudden trance he had found himself in. A new message in the chatroom.

8:42[CAIN IS ONLINE] 8:42[CAIN] Hi. It’s been a while.

Shiro nearly hurt himself swinging back around to face his computer, typing his message out so quickly he had to stop and fix several typos he had made in his excitement.

8:43[ALHAZRED] Yeah, it has. 8:44[CAIN] I haven’t heard from you in a month. Is everything ok? 8:44[ALHAZRED] Things have been hectic around here. Sorry if I worried you.

Shiro minimized the chat window and looked on his desktop for a specific file, finding it after running his eyes over it a few times. It was a promotional page for Summons on the app store, listing the various features the app—if you could even call it that—offered.

8:45[ALHAZRED] Actually, I was wondering if you’re familiar with this App. 8:46[ALHAZRED HAS ATTACHED AN IMAGE] 8:46[ALHAZRED] Ring any bells? 8:46[ALHAZRED] If not, nevermind. 8:47[CAIN] I know of it. That's the one rumored to have mysterious powers. 8:47[ALHAZRED] So you have heard of it! 8:48[ALHAZRED] If you don’t mind, could you tell me what you know? 8:48[CAIN] Sure, but I’d rather not type it. 8:49[ALHAZRED] Is there a problem? 8:50[CAIN] No, it’s just that it might take a while to explain over chat. 8:51[CAIN] Do you think we could meet somewhere in person today? 8:51[CAIN] If memory serves, you live in Shinjuku, right? 8:52[ALHAZRED] Yes, that’s right. 8:53[CAIN] Then shall we meet at Ikebukuro’s West Exit at 12 pm? 8:54[ALHAZRED] Really? Ikebukuro? 8:54[CAIN] Do you mind?

Did he? Ikebukuro had a reputation for a reason, one he was all too familiar with. It was dangerous, but the tradeoff was too tantalizing to ignore. Not to mention he’d get to finally meet Cain in person.

8:56[ALHAZRED] No, it’s fine. 8:57[ALHAZRED] I appreciate you taking time out of your schedule to meet me. 8:58[CAIN] Not at all. I’ve wanted to meet you in person for some time. 8:58[CAIN] Well then, I’ll see you later. 8:59[ALHAZRED] See you later. 8:59[ALHAZRED IS OFFLINE] 9:00[CAIN IS OFFLINE]

Shiro shut off his laptop, giddy with excitement from the fact that the burning questions he had about Summons were hopefully going to be answered. Maybe then the last day or so would be explained away as just artificial reality or…

He paused, staring once again at the warped leather cover of the Necronomicon. Deep inside, he knew it wasn’t. What happened with the exception a few hours earlier… it was real. All of it. How? How could a messenger app do this? Shiro let out a low and drawn out breath of exhaustion, taking off his glasses and flopping down into his bed.

He really needed to sleep.

A few hours later, as the mid-morning sun filtered in through plastic blinds, Sora lay in their totaled bed. Long ago their covers were flung off, and now they stared at the white ceiling contemplating whether to go and start the day. They hurt, there was no doubt about that. Their trip back to the school earlier in the morning took a lot longer than it should have due to the both of them needing to rest every block or so, and Sora wasn’t sure how much sleep they had actually gotten. What time was it? They weren’t entirely sure it even was the same day.

They heard a soft yawn from above them on the shelf under their window, a spark of blue pixelated light forming and flickering as Lil’ Sal’s body formed in the air. The tiny butler companion of theirs was still in his blue five-pointed star pajamas, and as he floated down to sit on their chest he lifted an equally as small sleeping mask off his eyes, the words “dad’s favorite” hand-stitched onto it.

“Good morning, Master,” he said with another yawn. “It’s currently 10 a.m. on December 7th, 2016. Did you sleep well?”

“Mm…” Sora grumbled in response. “I want to go back to bed….”

“I bet you do, Master! You and Shiro got into a lot of trouble yesterday.” Sal rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. “But you can only rest so much before your body needs food! That friend of yours, what’s his face with the cup, sent you a message a little while ago.”

“I don’t wanna…” Sora whined, rolling onto their side, subsequently knocking Sal off. He landed on the wooden floor of the dorm room with a thud, gasping with as much offense as he could muster. He floated up off the floor, staring at them with a deep pout.

“Master if you don’t get up I’m going to yell! I’m going to yell really loud!” Sal declared. At a lack of a response, he rolled up his small sleeves, inhaled, and let out a cacophonous bleat.

Sora shot out of bed, startled and staring at Sal in total bewilderment. Sal shook his little head in triumph, floating over to Sora’s phone and unplugging it from the cord. The screen lit up, revealing a few notifications on the screen when Sora picked it up from the windowsill.

Two of them were from Ryouta, the first asking if they’re okay, the second mentioning something about breakfast. That was three hours ago. The other notifications were from Summons, announcing recent changes in guild statuses, updates to the app, and the announcement of three new guilds: the Golden Gai Sukeban, the Arakawa Wanderers, and the Asakusa Gurus.

“What’s a Guild?” Sora asked Sal, who paused to answer, but jumped and vanished when there was a knock at the door. When they opened it, there stood Ryouta, whose expression betrayed just how concerned he was.

“Good morning, Sora! Are you…feeling alright?” He stared at their head, and they remembered that they were patched up pretty extensively.

“I’m sleepy, but I’m okay. Thank you for worrying, Ryouta.” Sora smiled at him, and the sun shining onto Ryouta from through the open window paled in comparison to the beaming smile he gave back to them.

“I kinda figured you were still resting cause you and Shiro were out there all night, right? So I didn’t worry too much, but when you didn’t respond the second time I had to make sure you were alright. It’s almost lunch time. Oh, speaking of which, do you wanna get lunch with me and Shiro?” Ryouta’s mouth was running a mile a minute, nearly bouncing in place.

“Sure! Just let me get ready.”

“Alright! I’ll be waiting for you both in the cafeteria. Shiro said he needed to do some laundry first, so he’ll be down in a bit.” Ryouta nearly started down the hall, but stopped when he saw Sora wrinkle their eyebrows in confusion. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s laundry?”

“Oh, uh…yeah, you have amnesia... Sorry about that. If you have any dirty clothes you can take them to the laundry room on the first floor to clean them. There should be instructions in there if you need them, I’ll let Shiro know you’re headed that way just in case.” Ryouta pulled out his phone, the case covered in stickers of various kinds, before waving to them and heading off towards the cafeteria.

Sora closed their door, watching as Sal rematerialized above their pillow holding his tome, reading quietly.

“Master, there should be a clean gym uniform in the top drawer of your dresser if I remember correctly.” Sal turned away from Sora to offer them some privacy to get dressed, which they did. The uniform was too big on them, and also too long. They rolled up their sleeves and pant legs, stretching to make sure the clothes fit comfortably, something they immediately regretted as every muscle in their body ached with pain.

“Sal, do you want to join us for lunch?” Sora snagged their phone off the windowsill and stuffed it into an inner pocket of their windbreaker. Sal turned to face them once more, closing his tome with a hearty thunk, and smiled.

“No thank you, Master. I plan to spend the rest of the day sleeping, but you three have fun! Oh, and don’t forget the key to your room!” Sal reclined onto their pillow with a smile, before vanishing once more. Sora smiled, finding their room key on their desk and slipping it into their sock before looking around for a way to take their clothes to the laundry room.

As Ryouta had said, when Sora eventually found the cramped laundry room, Shiro was inside, reading. They shifted the pile of laundry in their arms—they had failed to find anything to carry them with and didn’t want to bother Sal again—and knocked on the doorframe. At the new sound, Shiro turned to investigate, and let out a soft sigh when saw them.

“Good morning, Shiro!” Sora smiled cheerfully, walking in and finding a place to set their laundry down, shuffling some detergent bottles and socks aside first.

“It’s not ‘good morning’ anymore, but thank you all the same,” Shiro said, closing his book and yawning deeply. Sora noticed that it was a beginner’s guide to friendly conversation.

“Did you sleep at all?” they asked, though the dark bags under Shiro’s eyes told them everything they needed to know about how well he had slept. They looked around for the instructions Ryouta had told them about, and began working on their laundry. They may as well get this done while talking, if anything.

Shiro shifted in his seat, letting out another well-timed yawn before responding, “I’ll admit that no, I did not. As class representative, you would think I would be more disciplined since I am to be an example to my classmates, but…”

“But?” Sora turned to look at the many dials and knobs on what they assumed was the washing machine, and Shiro got up to assist them quietly. After a long pause, Shiro sighed.

“I was…speaking with a friend this morning. I—”

“Oh! Good afternoon, Shiro! And a good afternoon to you as well, Sora!” Moritaka peeked his head into the laundry room, startling the both of them so much that Sora nearly dropped the entire bottle of softener into the barrel. “My deepest apologies, I did not mean to startle you!”

“Afternoon, Moritaka.” Shiro adjusted his glasses, looking away when Moritaka shot him a look of concern at his appearance.

“Good mor…afternoon!” Sora corrected themself, closing the door of the washer and starting the cycle. They noticed Moritaka was wearing a deep blue kimono, a white wave pattern decorating the bottom, “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to train! I start off every day doing this, as it’s a warrior’s duty to train themself on a daily basis. It’s part of the path to becoming a respectable warrior!” Moritaka stood to attention, his voice swelling with pride. “That reminds me, Sora. I was incredibly hurt by both yours and Ryouta’s actions the night prior. Not only did you lie to me, you, by extension, also lied to Mr. Triton. I would like to hear your reasoning for this.”

Sora balked for a moment, unable to think of anything to say. They had no reason to lie to him (this time, at least) but… neither Moritaka nor Shiro knew why they had to lie to Triton in the first place. Would he understand? Would either of them? If he knew what else Sora had caused to happen, would he….

“I…” Sora started, their throat suddenly very, very dry, “You…do you…remember?”

The dawning horror on Sora’s face surprised Moritaka, as it wasn’t the look someone would give you when asked for an apology. “Both you and Ryouta lied to Triton, which gave him the impression I wanted swimming lessons! I can swim very well, thank you!”

Shiro looked between the two, hoping for an explanation of some kind for the issue at hand. However, something else entirely was taking up most of his attention. Moritaka may remember… whatever trouble Sora and Ryouta apparently got him in last night, but not the massive cataclysm that happened the same night. Why? Shiro decided to file away that one for his later meeting with Cain. If anyone could clear up the reasons why, it would be him.

Sora took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Moritaka. Shiro hadn’t come home yet and I was worried, but Triton and Jinn would have never let me off school grounds at that hour, so Ryouta helped me sneak out so I could find him, but we needed a distraction so we-” the words were spilling out of them like a spigot, a gnawing hole growing in their stomach from a feeling they could not name. He didn’t remember last night, which should have offered comfort to them, but…

“Hold on, Sora,” Moritaka held up his hand, Sora noticing for the first time that his claws weren’t sharp. “I believe I understand what happened now. Your actions were indeed hurtful, however, the lack of faith regarding whether I would assist you in matters regarding a friend is far more wounding. Should another situation such as this arise once more, if you ask, I will help to the best of my ability.”

Sora nodded, bowing in thanks. Moritaka returned the gesture to them and gave one to Shiro before bidding the two farewell. The two stood in relative silence, the tumbling of the washing machine offering a soft, rumbling background noise. The wooden slats that made up the walls of the laundry room offered little protection from the chill of the outside air, which made Sora shiver in their gym uniform, which they now understood wasn’t meant to withstand cold weather.

“What was that all about?” Shiro asked, still staring at the doorway where Moritaka had just been standing.

“Um…I think it’d be better if Ryouta were here too. So we can talk about it at lunch.” Sora turned back towards the washing machine when it chimed, placing their now wet clothes in the drier below.

It took less time than they were expecting for their clothes to finish completely. While the drier was going, Shiro had excused himself, saying he needed to retrieve something from his room, but that he would be waiting for them inside by the entrance to the dorm whenever they were ready to head out.

“Sora, you’re here!” Ryouta practically leapt up from his seat when Sora and Shiro walked in through the cafeteria doors. Sora was wearing their blue jeans, now ripped in places, their white sneakers, a now freshly cleaned and dried winter uniform dress shirt, and Ryouta’s blue wool coat, a pocket of which now held their phone and room key. Better in their pocket than their sock, they reasoned. Shiro himself was wearing a red turtleneck, black slacks, and dress shoes, holding a gray coat over his arm. After Sora and Ryouta exchanged a warm hug, the three sat down at a free table.

Ryouta had assembled quite an array of food for them to eat; a curry bun, egg sandwich, and orange juice for himself, an anpan, fruit sandwich and strawberry milk for Sora, and alarmingly to Shiro, a chicken katsu sandwich, a salad, an egg sandwich and a UCC black canned coffee sat in front of him.

“Ryouta…is all of this for me?” Shiro didn’t know what to say, turning the gently plastic wrapped Lawson egg sandwich around in his hand as if it were a color he’d never seen before.

“You haven’t eaten since breakfast yesterday, right?” Ryouta raised an eyebrow, taking a bite of his warm curry bun without breaking eye contact. Shiro looked away under his gaze and coughed.

“Ah, is that why I feel completely wretched right now….”

Sora let out a small gasp once they realized that they too hadn’t eaten in quite a long time, beginning to eat their anpan bun in a mild frenzy. Ryouta laughed brightly, the warm sound echoing off the cafeteria walls. Sora began choking. Ryouta cried out in alarm, the shrill sound, again, echoing off the cafeteria walls. Shiro quietly handed them the strawberry milk, and Ryouta sighed in relief as they recovered from the fit.

“Thank you, Ryouta. I know it must have been a hassle to get everything since the cafeteria is still closed until noon.” Shiro gave a quick thanks for his meal and slowly began eating his food, watching as Sora drank their milk with a sad pout.

“Don’t worry about it! I get a discount at the Lawson across the street since I go there so often.” Ryouta smiled and gave them both a thumbs up.

There weren’t that many students sitting in the cafeteria at this time, breakfast having ended long ago. With the break from school and no classes to attend, many students were either working on their assignments, relaxing, at home with their families, or in the case of a few students, napping.

“Also, um… not to be rude, but you both look kind of awful,” Ryouta commented, glancing between Shiro’s slightly gaunt face and Sora’s many bandages, “So, Shiro, uh… how are you feeling?”

“I’m…” Shiro suddenly felt out of the loop. “I’m doing alright, Ryouta. Why?”

“Well, I mean… you ran off yesterday morning and no one heard anything from you until today, so…” Ryouta took a sip from his orange juice, “...people started spreading rumors that you were running away for good and Sora was sent by the teachers to come and get you.”

“What?”

“You can blame Kibara for that one. And it wasn’t even the strangest rumor getting spread around, either. Tani in Class 2-A said that you got kidnapped by a group planning to use students as child soldiers and were planning an attack on Tokyo,” Ryouta stopped once he saw the look of utter disdain on Shiro’s face. “See what I mean?”

Shiro pinched the space in between his eyebrows and let out a sigh. “Why would he… nevermind. I’ve stopped trying to understand his ramblings.”

“Who’s Tani?” Sora asked, opening up their fruit sandwich to investigate the inside, which was slices of strawberry and fluffy whipped cream.

“Haru Tani,” Shiro let out a disgusted sigh. “He’s an upperclassman of ours that tends to spout conspiracy theories about everything and everyone. It’s a wonder it hasn’t gotten him into trouble yet. Actually… no. The day I start coming to Tani for information is the day I take off my glasses and just start letting Kengo direct me to and fro.”

Ryouta started coughing roughly, having swallowed his food as he gasped. Sora handed him their strawberry milk with a wide-eyed stare. Ryouta took a drink before thanking them, and grimaced, “That’s another problem: no one’s seen Kengo, either. He said he had stuff to do after he did his afternoon training with Moritaka yesterday, and no one’s seen him since.”

Sora looked to Shiro, whose expression was both annoyed and deeply pained. When they first met him, Shiro had been dragging Kengo back to school. Did he do this a lot? Why did Shiro seem so hurt by it, then?

“Shiro?” Sora eventually tugged on his sleeve, which broke him from his thoughts.

“...It’s nothing. I’ll deal with this later, personally,” Shiro adjusted his glasses. “Now, if either of you don’t mind, I’d like to be filled in on what happened while I was… absent. Along with why Moritaka was so upset in the laundry room.”

Half an hour had passed by the time they had finished filling each other in on everything that happened. Sora and Ryouta recounted everything on their side while Shiro was absent, and Sora gave Ryouta the abridged version of what happened while he was at school. How much did they want to tell him? How much could they tell him?

Ryouta had long since forgotten the curry bun he had been eating, pursing his lips as he processed the sheer gravity of the information given to him. “I… did that… really happen? I died? We all…?”

Shiro closed his eyes solemnly before replying. “Yes. You… and everyone else. We don’t know how, but it did in fact happen. The notion itself is ridiculous, and yet… Sora informed me of what the two of you discovered about Summons. How it does things no phone application could ever be capable of. Were it not for what we’ve both seen… I can say that I honestly wouldn’t believe a word of it. Even now, I find myself wondering if it was all a dream.”

“But…” Sora thought back to the Apparitions they had fought, the nearly flat plane where western Shinjuku used to be, the only thing left of the school being the uprooted plumbing still spewing water… They crumbled a napkin in their clammy hands.

“But it isn’t, is the thing. How?” Ryouta finally looked Shiro in the eyes.

“That’s what I’m going to find out.” That got Sora and Ryouta’s attention, and they sat patiently waiting for him to continue. “Earlier this morning, I contacted a dear friend of mine to ask if he knew anything about Summons. Fortunately, he did, and we arranged to meet later today in Ikebukuro to discuss what we know and exchange information. Hopefully after today we will at least have something concrete to base any further theories on regarding the app.”

“Uh, Shiro, what makes you so sure the information will be good?” Ryouta asked, looking somewhat skeptical.

“It’s simple, really. I trust him.” Catching himself, Shiro amended hurriedly, “T-that is- I- I highly regard his intellect, and—” He cleared his throat. “I trust that if he says he has valuable information regarding this matter, he certainly does know something that could help us better understand what’s going on here.”

“Well, if you trust him, it should be fine,” Ryouta shrugged, then, noticing Sora had been staring off into space, called, “Sora?”

They turned to look at him, as if breaking from a trance. Shiro glanced from Sora to a spot directly in front of them in the air, feeling a familiar pressure wash over him as he stared at the spot, and it clicked instantly as to what, or rather whom, had distracted them.

“Sal wanted me to remind you that only us and Touji remember the cataclysm, because Moritaka never mentioned it,” Sora nervously paraphrased their floating familiar, who had been quietly present from the moment Sora had entered the cafeteria. They paused, “He also says congratulations to you for noticing him again, Shiro.”

“Ah. Thank you?” Shiro didn’t quite know how to reply to Sal’s… enthusiasm.

“Guys, what’s going on?” Ryouta looked between Sora and Shiro for an explanation.

“Oh, yeah, um,” Sora looked to Sal, who gave Ryouta a twirl and a bow, even though he couldn’t see him. “So… I have a contract with a familiar only I can see. His name is Lil’ Salomon, and he’s been helping me ever since I woke up in the park the other day. He knows a lot about Summons too, and he’s willing to help as much as he can if we have any questions.” The triumphant laugh Sal let out at this made Sora break out into a wide grin.

Ryouta was quiet for a moment, before shrugging with an ‘oh, well’ smile. “It’s not the strangest thing you’ve told me today. So… what do we know? Like, all together.”

“The app causes Battle Zones where people fight and can die, but once the battle is over they come back to life. There are two different types of Summoners, one of which summons artifacts, and the other can summon people or creatures.” Sora remembered their encounter with the Watchers the day prior, how surprised they were that Sora could do both. They put that thought aside. ”What else… I guess… Summons is like a game? You can level up in it, and you get things once you finish a battle, but it’s also a messaging app? And you can call people and read their posts and see what their stats are, too.”

“There are also Exceptions, which are caused when two opposing Rules clash and Summons cannot decide which one takes priority over the other, what follows this being…” Shiro didn’t need to finish his sentence. “We’ve also learned that only those involved in the event have any recollection of it in the aftermath. Those who died during this incident were resurrected, with no memory of having died. Ryouta, I remember you mentioning that you use Summons. Did you receive an artifact when you signed up?”

“Yeah, it’s a weird goblet thing? It’s gold and has green leaves on it. I left it in my room since I didn’t know what it was for. Why, Shiro?”

“I’d need more information, but I have a suspicion that the moment you sign up for the app, all users are divided into one of the two categories, whether you fight or not.”

“You can summon the D-Evils though, right? Doesn’t that make you the other type of user as well?” Sora asked, remembering the ████████.

“I’m… not sure. Actually, perhaps we should wait before delving too deep into this. Whatever information I receive today should steer us in the right direction.” Shiro took a glance at a black watch on his wrist. “Speaking of which, I’ll need to head out in about half an hour to make it there on time. If I head out now, I may be able to find Kengo and bring him back in time for the d… the meeting.”

“Is Kengo in Ikebukuro, too?” Sora asked.

Ryouta nodded in response and leaned back in his chair, finishing the now cold remaining half of his curry bun in one bite. “Probably.” He shivered. “You gotta be careful, Shiro. I heard it’s been getting worse lately.”

“Yes, I’m aware.” Shiro stood from the table, putting his coat on silently.

“Do you want me to go with you? Just in case?” Sora offered, hesitant to ask Ryouta why he seemed so uncomfortable with the idea of going to Ikebukuro. They couldn’t find the words.

Shiro considered it for a moment. “...If you wish to, I’d appreciate the company. It may be rather hectic, if I’m being honest, so if you’d rather stay and rest after… everything… I’ll be perfectly fine on my own.”

“You’re not doing well, either, though.” Sora adjusted Ryouta’s coat as they stood, buttoning up the front to keep themself warm. “If anything happens, we’ll at least be together. Are you coming too, Ryouta?”

Ryouta shook his head rapidly. “Nope! No way! You couldn’t get me within ten feet of Ikebukuro. Besides, I have to go help Choji in Daikanyama soon.”

“Why Daikanyama specifically?” Shiro raised an eyebrow, and Ryouta laughed nervously under his gaze.

“Well… I had to pull a lot of favors to find you… so I asked Choji if I could help him out at a church picnic he’s working at today in exchange. I’m gonna be busy until next week helping out down there, actually…” The expression of guilt and Shiro’s fallen shoulders caused Ryouta to gesture for him to hold on. “Don’t worry, Shiro, I like helping out! You got home safe, so it was worth it in the end. Besides, you can make it up to me by bringing something back from Maruju and Iseya Oyama!”

Shiro snorted, smiling at Ryouta’s half-joke. “I’ll consider it. Thank you, Ryouta.”

“Anytime, Shiro. Stay safe you two, alright? I don’t want to end up having to tell Mr. Mononobe that you guys left to go somewhere and then never came back again. Once was enough.” He smiled, though it was closer towards a grimace.

They said their goodbyes, Sora and Ryouta exchanging a tight hug once more before they headed out with Shiro. First, they needed to tell Mononobe where they were going. If he would even let them leave the grounds in the first place. They still had their punishments from the teachers to fulfill. Speaking of which…

“Hey, Shiro, what was it that Jinn was going to make you do as punishment for yesterday?”

“Ah, right, that. He wants me to help him record and catalog the academy’s sports equipment. What about you? What did Triton want?”

“He wants me to help him clean the pool…”

Shiro grimaced. “Ah. My condolences. Kengo’s received that punishment a few times. It goes faster if you ask Triton for help, he gets excited whenever any of his students come to him for something, so his abilities with water stir up the debris and sweep everything to one side of the pool.”

“Why do you know that?” Sora playfully narrowed their eyes, making Shiro look away in embarrassment.

“I may or may not sit and read nearby wherever Kengo has his punishment for the week, so I can keep an eye on him.” Shiro adjusted his glasses, steering the two of them in the direction of Mononobe’s office.

They found him exactly where they expected he would be, sitting at his small cubicle reviewing paperwork, an unlit cigarette in his mouth. Shiro knocked on the door frame, bowing to the other faculty as he and Sora went in. Mononobe looked up at them with a warm but tired smile, the crow’s feet at his eyes scrunching.

“Good afternoon, you two. Did you both sleep well?” Mononobe leaned back in his chair, eyeing Sora curiously. His expression was soft, but thoughtful.

“Yes, sir,” Sora answered meekly. Shiro shot them a dubious glance, but nodded without a word to the contrary.

“That’s good to hear. What can I do for you both?”

“Well, sir, I’d like to ask for your permission for us to leave school grounds for a few hours,” Shiro said, already expecting Mononobe’s suspicious expression before it appeared on his face.

Mononobe closed his eyes, letting out a deep sigh and crossing his arms. Deep creases formed at his brows and around his mouth. “You both are still in a lot of trouble, you know. Lying to the faculty to sneak off school grounds, staying out overnight, disappearing for hours without letting anyone know where you are, not to mention the state you both were in when you returned. Were I to let the both of you leave campus, how can I be sure that you won’t break my trust again? How can I even be sure you’ll return?”

When no reply came, Mononobe cracked an eye open. Shiro was standing tense as a board, a slightly glassy over look in his eyes as he stared into the middle distance. Sora was white-knuckling the bottom of Ryouta’s coat, as if using their entire force of will to keep from bawling on the spot.

Several seconds passed in this silence. Then Mononobe let out an enormous sigh.

“I’m sorry,” he said wearily, looking between Shiro and Sora as the former struggled to collect himself and the latter struggled not to cry. “I didn’t mean to… upset either of you. But, in case you’ve forgotten, there was a murder nearby here a few days ago, and the investigation is still on-going.” He scrubbed a hand down his face and sighed again. “You could have been arrested yesterday, for all I knew. You could have been killed. I am your teacher and your guardian, and I need you both to understand the gravity of your actions, both for your sake and for mine.”

Sora nodded, relaxing their grip on the coat slowly. Mononobe offered them a tissue box, which they took with a sniffle and dried their eyes. They let out a single shaky hiccup before collecting themself enough to speak. “We understand, Mr. Mononobe.”

He eyed Sora with a mix of emotions they couldn’t name, an expression akin to concern most prominent of them all. He took a deep breath, taking the still unlit cigarette from his mouth and placing it on the edge of an ashtray sitting on his desk. It was a chipped little ceramic thing that looked almost like an antique. The color had faded from it, but it appeared to have been a cheery orange a long, long time ago, with a daisy patterning just barely visible.

“...Alright. You both can go, but under one condition: you have to be back by 18 o’ clock, exactly. Placing my trust in you both is an act of faith that I hope you’ll honor. Do you understand?

Shiro and Sora both nodded their heads, speaking in unison, “Yes, sir.”

“Good. Now, before you both head out, please stick together. The weather may take a turn for the worse, and there’s a chance a blizzard may hit later, so have a backup plan in case you get stranded somewhere. The school still operates with landlines, so if your internet goes out, most convenience stores still have payphones you can use. Be careful, alright?” Mononobe’s advice was quick, making him sound more and more like a worried parent. Sora nodded, Shiro and them bowing before leaving the faculty room. They felt, ever so slightly, Mononobe’s concerned stare on their back as they left.

The train ride over to Ikebukuro was smooth, alarmingly so, compared to everything else that had happened within the last few days. As the two stepped out of the packed train car and onto the Yamanote Line platform of the Ikebukuro Station, Sora was clinging to Shiro like their life depended on it. Shiro put an awkward hand on their shoulder, and shuffled the two of them up a set of stone tile stairs until they reached a long, roofed walkway decorated in advertisement posters, a few restaurants and booths on the right side.

“Wait here a moment, Sora, I’m going to get us something to drink,” Shiro spoke, watching as Sora stared at the fresh surroundings. He pushed up his glasses and headed towards a drink stand, leaving Sora alone.

They walked over to a nearby set of windows, the small rectangular panes showing an overhead view of the train platforms outside. The metal roofs reflected the gray sky overhead, frost sparkling on the sheet metal. The chill in the air made them pull Ryouta’s coat around them tighter. They wondered if he would be okay without it, a bit guilty at the idea that they took his only winter coat. Sora gingerly pressed their hand to the glass, pulling it back immediately as they felt how cold it was. Even in the covered walkway, they could see their breath.

“Sorry for making you wait, Sora.” Shiro came back with the drinks, which were hot and steaming. He set them both down on the windowsill. “You have to stay here if you want to drink, it's considered impolite to walk around and eat.”

“Okay!” Sora watched as Shiro slipped two cardboard heat grips around the paper cups. He smiled, a proud grin on his face, though Sora was unsure as to why.

“One of these is corn soup, it’s an acquired taste, but it’ll warm you up regardless. The other is hot chocolate,” Shiro explained. “It’s sweet, and you can add marshmallows into it for a little more sweetness. Ryouta tends to prefer sweeter things, but recommended I give you the option to try both when we got here.”

Sora stared at the drinks, and picked the corn soup. They blew on it a bit, before bringing it to their lips. It was… they didn’t really have any words to describe it, having never had corn before. Sora continued sipping the yellow, creamy soup with a face that betrayed their confusion and disdain.

Shiro gave them a bemused smile, taking a drink of the hot chocolate. “How does it taste?”

“Bad…” Sora frowned, but continued nursing the soup, for Shiro’s sake.

“It is quite… intriguing. You get used to it after a while, believe me, I've had my share far more than I would like.” Shiro turned to the windowsill, and reached for something before pausing. He checked his coat’s pockets, then his pants, then his shirt….

“Shiro?” Sora stared at Shiro with a slightly cocked head.

“No need to worry, I… seem to have forgotten to grab marshmallows.” Shiro took his hands out of his pockets, looking at the drink stand. Sora did a single jump and smiled.

“I’ll go get you some— wah!” The moment Sora turned and ran to the stand, they collided with someone, the two falling to the floor with rather light thuds. The cup that Sora had been holding spun on its lip, empty of its contents. Shiro immediately went to Sora’s side, and helped them sit up, checking them for any injuries.

Sora brushed themself off, and crawled over to the person they had collided with. They wore a baggy purple sweatshirt with large pockets and black cargo pants, both of which were now covered in the corn soup. Sora quickly tried helping the person sit up, panicked, looking like they were about to cry, ”I’m sorry, I didn’t see you! Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

“I-I’m, uh…” The soup-splattered stranger made a few shaky attempts to respond, but couldn’t manage to quite get the words out. It was going to be a long day, especially with how it felt as if the city itself was bad luck. Shiro felt the prickle of suspicion he had die the moment he saw the look on the stranger’s face. If Sora was near tears, they were barely holding the deluge back.

And it seemed like they were losing. The stranger— a child, at least as far as Shiro could tell by their short and wiry stature— began to tremble, shoulders shaking. They had braced themself against Sora when the two had collided, and had grasped their arm as they had tried to help them up. The stranger withdrew into themself, covering their hands over their mouth.

“Are you okay…?” Sora asked again, horrified. The strange child let out a high-pitched sob, their shoulders shaking.

Shiro, panicked, blurted out, “I’ll get you some napkins, one moment.” He made a bee-line back to the drink stand, taking the napkins that were already being offered by the employee manning it. They gave Shiro a raised brow, but were otherwise unconcerned. They also handed some to Sora, who had followed after him, both teens now carrying two large fistfuls of napkins.

When they returned, the crying stranger was nowhere to be seen, the splatter of corn soup marking the now empty space where they should have been.

Sora looked between the splatter and the napkins they held in their hands. “Where did they go?”

Shiro let out a weary sigh. Other people’s crying always made him feel alarmed, and the stranger’s especially left him ill at ease. "They must have run away. They seemed very overwhelmed." He disposed of the empty cup in a nearby recycling area, then crouched on the cool concrete to begin mopping the spilled soup. There was quite a bit around— Sora had an apparent distaste for it.

Sora was still standing over the mess. Their grip tightened on the cheap napkins. “Sora, are you alright?” Shiro asked, watching them carefully.

"I spilled food on them..." Sora mumbled. "And we didn't help them, they're just gone..."

"Accidents happen, Sora, I don't think they were angry with you." He looked up from his soaked napkins, which at this point were just smearing the wretched soup across the floor rather than cleaning it up. "Would you help me with this? We need to get a..." He trailed off.

Sora was still looking around, their expression no longer stricken with guilt. Instead, they seemed to be listening intently, thin brows knit with discomfort. “Do…you hear that?”

Shiro paused, listening as well. His frown deepened into disapproval when he finally noticed it; someone nearby was laughing. It was cacophonous and full of mischievous joy, the sound slowly getting further and further away down the twisting halls, like they had seen what had happened, and found it the height of comedy. Shiro shook his head, appalled at the lack of sympathy for the child’s misfortune, even if they had most likely been playing hooky.

“Some people are so callous.” He muttered, watching the passersby to locate the culprit, but came back with no one to draw his ire. From the sound of it, the person would have been short of air in their hysterics, but as far as he saw, everyone else on the walkway was too busy giving them a wide berth to spare even a chuckle. This was deeply troubling. Ikebukuro was far too dangerous for someone like that to be out of his line of sight.

"Sora." Shiro called out to them, his tone gentle, but urgent. "Please help me clean this up. We should leave, as soon as possible." They managed to clean up the mess the best they could, and the employee offered a wet floor sign to place over the cleaned area.

Sora sighed, standing up and throwing the dirty napkins away, the guilt still weighing on them. The two bowed in thanks to the drink stand employee and headed to the right, going through the turnstiles, Sora holding Shiro’s hand tightly. There were a lot of people at this time of day, but far less than the endless crowd in Shinjuku Station. Sora got separated twice in the writhing crowd, having to cling to Shiro like a koala to not have it happen for a third time.

They left the station’s roofed walkway, taking the Metropolitan Exit, and heading down an open area paved in cold concrete tiles. A red set of pillars lined the walkway to their right, the two passing under them as they turned the corner of the building. The side walkway wasn’t as crowded as the plaza they had just left, Sora letting out a soft noise of awe at the double-decker skybridge they were passing under, the gray sky sparkling in the tinted glass. The pair headed down a few flights of stairs to street level, Shiro checking his phone once they were out of the way of commuters.

“...Shiro… can I ask you something about Kengo?” Sora muttered, trying to avoid bumping into anyone as they walked.

“I don’t see why not.”

“Ryouta said you had to get Kengo, but… why?” Sora asked, watching Shiro, fully expecting him not to give them an answer.

“He…” Shiro paused for a few moments, as if carefully considering how he phrased his next words. “His parents asked me to keep an eye on him. We’ve known each other since we were kids, and for as long as I can remember, he’s always tended to get into trouble.”

“Why would he come to Ikebukuro?”

Shiro glanced over his shoulder, stopping just in time to avoid an irate cyclist that had ridden out in front of the two. For a moment his expression was one of bewildered annoyance, then his gaze softened with understanding. “Even after hearing what Ryouta said, you…. My apologies. It slipped my mind that merely two days ago you woke up without your memories. Ikebukuro isn’t a safe place. Gang violence, street brawls, and muggings are rampant, with little done to curb the violence. Kengo came here to fight, nothing more.”

The disdain was clear in Shiro’s voice. It was directed at Kengo, but the longer they walked, the longer Sora had to mull over his words. Ever since they got here, to Tokyo, they had been fighting nonstop. The Red Oni in the park, the Watchers outside of the station, the D-Evils, Shiro himself, then the exception… Sora didn’t press any further, the two walking in silence, the sound of the bustling city of fighters surrounding them.

They didn’t have to search for long before running across Kengo. Sal had been searching from the air to help, and spotted his bomber jacket as he turned a corner into a narrow commercial side street. The two dodged and swerved through the pedestrian crowds, until the swarm of humanity all but vanished as they came upon the scene in front of them.

The rough thwacks and crunches of fists against bodies echoed off the two-story restaurants on either side of the street. Sora tensed in horror as they watched the fight, the… brawl. There was no other word for it. This wasn’t in Summons, this was real, tangible. The blood on Kengo’s fists were a testament to that.

“C’mon, guys, let’s go!” One of the guys fighting Kengo crawled away, cradling his broken arm. There was barely enough room in the street— more of an alley, really— for a small vehicle to drive through, so the fighters had no choice but to be close-quarters.

“So that was all talk?! What’s the matter, you scared?” Kengo dodged an incoming attack, grabbing them by the arm as they swung, and flipped them over onto their back in a beautiful arc. They landed on the bloodied pavement with a loud crack. Sora shuddered.

Shiro’s fist clenched as he watched, and the disdain on his face soured into outright contempt. Sora didn’t want to butt in; usually they would have, they’d jumped into fights before, but Shiro… what would he think of them afterwards?

The other fighters crawled away the best they could with injured bodies, some limping away from Kengo weakly. He spit out a glob of blood on the asphalt, wiping his mouth with his hand.

“You’re pathetic. Get lost, you’re not worth my time.” Kengo scowled, wiping his grisly hands on his jeans before putting them in his pockets. The group that attacked him collected their injured friends and hobbled away. Those that had fallen unconscious were left behind in the alley.

Sora took a step forward as they made to talk to Kengo, but Shiro beat them to it, his voice stern, anger barely contained: “What do you think you’re doing?”

Kengo turned quickly, startled more than anything else to see Shiro, and Sora for that matter, as they saw his deep brown eyes flick to them for a moment.

“What the hell are you doing here, Shiro?” Kengo asked, his tone just as angry.

“We’ve come to get you,” Sora answered first, shutting their mouth immediately when they saw the stern glare Shiro was giving them. He wanted to handle this. Alone.

“Every time I come and get you, you’re in another fight! It’s a wonder you haven’t killed anyone yet!” Shiro said, his voice raising in volume. Kengo rolled his eyes, and walked over to one of the unconscious fighters. Sora gasped softly as Kengo began checking their pockets, eventually pulling a small, black leather wallet. He took out some small tokens that Sora knew to be Coin along with a few bills that Sora did not recognize, shoving them unceremoniously into the pocket of his worn jeans.

“You’re robbing them now, too?!” Shiro shrieked.

“Shut up, I earned this fair and square!” Kengo snapped back, staring Shiro down. Sora squirmed in place, holding tightly onto the bottom of their coat. Something bad was going to happen. ”The better I am at kicking their sorry asses, the more I get. Same goes for them. It’s that simple.”

Shiro’s face momentarily fell into stunned alarm, before returning to the grimace he had prior. “Kengo, is this illegal fighting? Have you been fighting people for money?!”

Kengo didn’t respond. At least, not at first. The rush of the highway nearby filled the silence, and after what felt like an eternity, he answered, cold and strained, “Go home, Shiro. I don’t care what happens at school anymore, and I’m sick of your annoying ass trailing after me everywhere I go.”

Shiro started. “What—”

“Just— shut up! What am I even going to school for? If you wanna go to kiss-ass central, then go ahead, but I don’t— I don’t care! I’m sick of you dragging me to school when I don’t care about that shit, and then dragging me to study so you can tell me how stupid I am and how ‘I’m not applying myself’ and ‘I’m disappointing my father’ like I give a rat’s ass about how that old man feels!” Kengo’s voice was hoarse from yelling, his harsh words and frustrations bleeding from him like an open wound. “You can go back to the academy and tell them anything you want, because you know what? I don’t belong there! It doesn’t matter what you or any of them do— I can’t ‘walk the straight and narrow,’ I can’t get good grades, and I’m never gonna hold down a job where you sit in a cubicle all day. I’m a martial artist. This is where people like me belong!”

Sora watched as Kengo spat at Shiro, and turned to leave. They didn’t have the courage to chase after him. Shiro did. He marched towards Kengo, grabbing onto his jacket sleeve, the old, brown leather gripped tightly in his fingers. Kengo flinched, and his arm jerked out of reflex, shaking Shiro free. The two made eye contact, looking for something in each other that was no longer there. Kengo grit his teeth, and swung.

Shiro staggered back; he fell to the ground hard. He placed a hand on his jaw, as if trying to stifle the pain that had settled in. Kengo stared down at him, his hands shaking.

That was the final straw. Sora lunged at Kengo with enough ferocity that he was caught off guard. They started to claw at his face, their small hands leaving sharp fingernail scratches anywhere they could reach. Kengo grabbed Sora by the back of their coat and threw them at Shiro with a thud.

“Both of you just stay the hell away from me!” Kengo shouted, running off down the back alley, and eventually out of sight.

The alley was quiet once more, the onlookers from the nearby restaurants that had watched the confrontation murmuring amongst themselves. Shiro sat up slowly, still staring in the direction Kengo had gone. Sora crawled out of Shiro’s lap, dusting themself off. They looked at their hand, which had landed in a pool of dried blood, the crust still somewhat damp. It took everything to keep down their rising bile from the feeling of it. Sora quickly got up, and started looking for Shiro’s glasses, and found they had skittered under a set of chained delivery bicycles. Shiro hadn’t moved by the time they brought them back, too stunned to do much else but gape in blank horror.

“...He’s not a bad person, you know.” Shiro’s voice was barely audible, nothing more than a strangled whisper. ”Deep down, I mean. He’s good, he… hesitated. He didn’t swing immediately. He didn’t… want to, maybe he did, I mean… Sora you have to believe me, Kengo’s a good person—”

“I know,” Sora said, sitting down on the asphalt beside Shiro quietly. They sat there in silence for a while before speaking up again. ”Let’s go, Shiro,”

“...Yes. Let’s go. We still have things to do, after all,” Shiro’s response was flat and mechanical. He stood, his poker face returning as he adjusted his coat. “That fool… if he wants to beat people up in back alleys for money, so be it. It’s not like he’ll change if I drag him back, anyway.”

The jarring shift in Shiro’s sentiments took Sora by surprise. Had he not heard a single thing Kengo had said? They held their tongue, not having the words to express their frustrations with Shiro at the moment. Sal floated down, giving them a look of concern.

“Master, you’re worried, right?” Sal asked, floating alongside Sora as they followed Shiro to wherever he was going. This time, they gave him a wide berth.

“Yeah. I don’t… understand.” Sora rubbed their arm as they watched the blue-gray asphalt underfoot, “Kengo’s mad at Shiro, but he won’t listen. They won’t listen to each other,”

“From what I’ve seen, Master, they’re stubborn people. It’s all part of growing up, y’know. Friends have disagreements sometimes, after all.” Sal steered Sora around an upcoming corner as they headed back out the way they came, eventually stopping in front of a Lawson convenience store. Shiro turned to Sora silently, waiting for them to follow inside, but they shook their head half-heartedly. Shiro went in alone.

Sora sat down on the small red steps to the left of the door, watching the midday traffic drive by. The sky had darkened even more than earlier, and their fingers had started to ache from the deepening cold. They were reminded of… a few days ago. Had it really only been so little time? Sal floated down into their lap, opening his tome to different pages as he read.

“Sal… do you have any friends?”

“Hm… well, there’s you, Master. Father as well, and that’s about it. Not many people can see me after all! Why?”

“Will things work out?” Sora asked, as the familiar tightness in their chest that meant they were going to cry welled up inside of them.

“...I don’t know, Master. That’s up to them. The most you can do is to have faith, and that’s the strongest power one can have in this Tokyo,” Sal responded, his large brown eyes looking up at Sora in reassurance. It worked, somewhat, as Sora took a few strangled breaths to collect themself.

Shiro stepped out of the automatic doors to the Lawson, a small plastic bag full to the brim on his arm. Sora looked up at him with a complicated expression, watching as he placed a heat compress to the growing red spot on his jaw. They took his hand to help them up, Sal flying around the two of them.

“Are you feeling alright, Sora?” Shiro asked, handing them a small bottle of Yakult. Sora nodded, peeling the bright red foil lid off of the bottle, tentatively sipping the yogurt drink inside. It was cold, which might not have been the best thing for the current temperature, but the subtle sweetness of the yogurt drink made them feel better.

Shiro sighed, grabbed one for himself, and reclined against the concrete wall to Sora’s right. “You always seem to catch me at my worst, Sora. I’m the one the staff rely on as class representative to keep my classmates in line. It’s imperative I maintain my cool to keep performing that job to the highest caliber, yet here I am, running away from school for over 24 hours and getting into fights two days in a row.”

“...Shouldn’t we go after Kengo?” Sora asked, glancing over at Sal, who was trying to take a sip from their bottle. They tilted it slightly to give him easier access.

“We should, however-” Shiro punctuated his sentence by downing his yogurt in a single gulp, “-what just transpired may happen again, if not worse than before. That’s a chance I’m not willing to take, and frankly, we’re running out of time for our meeting. Kengo will be back to normal after he cools off, and I doubt he’ll be leaving Ikebukuro.”

Shiro pulled out his phone from his coat pocket, checked the time, a chatroom, then SUMMONS, and sighed in frustration. Three D-Evils of various bright colors, one Wood, one Nether, and one Aether, appeared from circular portals in the air, chirping happily. Sora’s jaw clenched at the sight of the portals. They glowed with swampy green and blood red rings that twisted into the center like optical illusions. The same portals that had dotted the night sky of Shinjuku as they sucked up people like dust barely twelve hours prior.

“D-Evils, I’m not sure if you’re able to assist me in this manner, but I want you to find Kengo and keep an eye on him while we’re busy. Can you do that for me?” Shiro asked, in a tone similar to how one would speak to a pet. The D-Evils squeaked amongst themselves, before the Nether D-Evil, who was the leader of the trio, nodded. The three fluttered their stubby wings, and flew off down the street in different directions to search.

Sora fidgeted with the bottom of their coat. “Is it…safe to use that?”

“What do you mean?”

“The… thing…” Sora stared at Shiro. “What if the book calls it back? What if we have to fight it again?”

As Shiro looked back, trying to understand their meaning, his hand slid absentmindedly down the leather spine of the Necronomicon, which resided comfortably in a holster on his thigh. “...I remember. No, I don’t believe that would be the case. The officer said that it was Summoned when our Rules collided. I doubt simply using the book would have the same effect.”

“Sure…” Sora mumbled, still not entirely reassured. Still, the D-Evils would be useful in this situation, as they would be less conspicuous than if either of them were to trail Kengo.

“Now, we have a good amount of time before our meeting, but I’d like to get to the station sooner rather than later, just in case anything else happens, as that’s where we agreed to meet. I recommend we get a move on as soon as possible.” Shiro switched back to the SUMMONS home screen, providing him with a map of the area.

The two hurried at an even pace down the brick-laid sidewalk, through a small crosswalk, and then back up the opposite street. They walked along the side of an impressively long, several story building, with spiral concrete stairs leading up to higher floors, various Roman-style columns, and large vertical banners with badly photoshopped pictures of gladiators on them hanging from the roof. There was an impressive amount of people going in and out, a few shoving past Shiro as they passed another set of stairs.

They had just passed the corner of the imposing building when the Aether D-Evil from earlier barreled into Shiro out of nowhere, hitting him square in the stomach. Shiro let out a surprised, winded cough, taking a step back from the force of the impact. The D-Evil chattered loudly, tugging at his clothing.

“What’s wrong with it?” Sora asked as they watched Shiro put his phone back in his pocket, and lifted the D-Evil under its arms like a cat. It wiggled its little limbs and pointed off to the right of where the two stood. The light brown brickwork pathway they had been walking over branched off through a row of trees towards another entrance of the building. There was a large crowd gathered at the end of it.

“Did you find Kengo?” The D-Evil nodded with a beep. “Is he over there?”

The other two D-Evils floated in, one landing on Shiro’s shoulder, the other perched on his head. The trio let out a shrill, urgent squeak, Sora and Sal wincing at the volume.

“Calm down, don’t make so much noise,” Shiro chided, and looked towards where they had pointed. He looked back towards the station a block away, then to a nearby park clock silently. Eventually, Shiro turned to Sora. “...I doubt my friend would mind if we were a little late, as much as the prospect bothers me. What do you think? Should we investigate?”

Sora approved, the two beelining for the crowd. As they approached, they saw the tell-tale blue wall that signified a Battle Zone sparkling above the thrumming crowd. The Wood-aligned D-Evil smacked Shiro’s arm insistently, pointing with its clawed hand towards the row of glass double doors that acted as the front entrance.

“He’s inside there?” Sora asked, the D-Evil flapping its arms in confirmation.

Shiro narrowed his eyes, “This is the Tokyo Metropolitan Theatre, where they hold plays and art exhibits. What business would he have in there—”

His voice was lost when the crowd of spectators cheered all at once. An energy spread through the mass of people, one so electrified and strange that it made the hair on Sora’s arms stand on end. The Battle Zone quickly dissipated, the familiar voice of the narrator calling out the results of the fight.

「Battle concluded.

Winner: Snow of the Ikebukuro Berserkers.

Congratulations. Thank you for playing SUMMONS」

The crowd broke apart, each person headed to their original destinations, and finally granted the two a clear view of the fight that had transpired. A man lay face down on the brickwork ground, the pattern below him resembling a ripple that started from the entrance of the apparent theater building. The man was mangled, covered in cuts and scrapes that precisely targeted his limbs’ weak points. Standing a few feet behind the injured man, poised and refined, was a beautiful lion transient with blue-white fur, whose well-groomed white mane ended dark green. He wore an elegant dark blue, almost black, butler uniform, one that was embroidered with traditional Tibetan designs decorating the lapels of his coat and vest. He readjusted his clean white gloves and golden monocle. It looked as if he hadn’t suffered a single scratch the entire fight.

Sora quickly ran to the injured man’s side, watching the wounds on his body heal as the post-battle effects of SUMMONS activated. He lifted his head, looking up at Sora, who had a hand on his shoulder. They recognized him as one of the people Kengo had been fighting earlier.

“Do you need help? Are you alright—” Before Sora could ask further, the man weakly slapped away their hand.

“Get the hell away from me! You and your jackass buddy can’t get enough, huh? You finishing the job he started?!” The man spat, and sat up to face the white lion that had won the battle, apparently named Snow. “Damn cat, you and your weirdass moves!”

Snow let out a short chuckle, seemingly unfazed by the injured man’s outburst. “Now, now, I can’t have you making a commotion at the entrance, lest people think our estate unrefined. I regret I must ask you to leave, if you would be so kind.”

The man scooted back in fear as Snow took a step forward, his eyes trained on the man’s every move. For a brief moment, Sora felt his gaze fall upon them, and they moved aside to let him pass. They crunched a leaf tightly in their hand as they saw the frantic look on the injured man’s face as his attacker descended upon him.

“You just caught me off guard!” The man yelled, bravado filling his voice. “I want in that building, cat, and you’re not going to stop me!”

“Goodness, I had thought our name was more widely known around Ikebukuro. To think our establishment would attract such a haphazard attacker such as yourself.” Step. “Furthermore, one who assumes he will be let in just for the sake of a few coin…” Step. “I am ashamed to admit I have much to improve upon. The quality of an estate’s guests deems the quality of the estate’s butler, after all. At this rate, I dare not face my darling master.”

The man kept scooting back, a cry of alarm leaving him when his back hit a nearby tree. Snow turned his nose up in disgust at the display. Shiro backed away from where he was standing, the D-Evils squeaking as well.

“How unsightly. One who cannot ascertain his opponent’s strength is inferior to a wild beast. One mustn’t confuse a penchant for reckless endangerment for actual courage.” Snow posed elegantly, his left hand beginning to glow a soft bluish-green. “I will show no mercy to those who show no courtesy.”

Snow’s body blurred for a moment, and without any indication of what had occurred, the man slumped over, falling to the ground. Sora gasped, and hesitantly approached to check the man. He was unconscious, a look of surprise on his face. Shiro quickly lifted Sora up, the two now on guard against the strange butler. Snow lowered his hand, and placed it behind his back, once again elegant and composed.

“You must excuse me, I fear that may have been rather unbecoming. You may refer to me as Snow, young ones.” The butler, now assuredly named Snow, addressed the two of them, his voice deep with an air of politeness. For a moment, Sora forgot about the unmoving man at his feet. “Now then, how may I assist you?”

“W-We’re, uh… we—”

“We’re looking for our friend. We heard that he went into that building.” Shiro cut Sora off, which made them huff.

“I see. Very well, your purpose has been noted. However, I regret to inform you that only my master’s guests are allowed inside. Were I to speak carelessly of the happenings within our domain, it would reflect poorly on my position as manager of the colosseum.”

Shiro’s eyebrows knit in confusion. “Colosseum? I thought this was a theater.”

“I have heard that, at one point, in the earlier years of this Tokyo and prior, that it was indeed a theatre of the arts. However, my master has refurbished it into its current incarnation. Only the strongest may be allowed to pass through its threshold. That is one of the rules set in place by my master.” Snow smiled, the admiration of his master obvious in his voice.

Sora spoke up nervously. “What’s a coliseum?” After the look of utter bewilderment Snow gave them, they wish they hadn’t. Shiro answered first, thankfully.

“Traditionally, the word just indicates a stadium or amphitheater, however, it has become associated specifically with the famous gladiatorial arena in Rome of the same name.” Shiro’s drawn-out answer was confirmed with a nod from Snow.

“A very astute and well-articulated response. The place is of a similar concept, however, I must ask that you both leave regardless. You are not welcome within its walls or the premises there-of.” Snow’s tone retained its politeness, which was beginning to sound a bit deadpan.

“Please, our friend is in there. We need to take him back to campus.” Shiro dug his heels in, but it didn’t matter.

“No, and that is my final answer. Should you press further, I will personally remove the two of you, by force if need be.” This was bad. Sora could feel something beginning to radiate from Snow, and they were reminded of their fight with the Red Oni.

Bloodlust.

They had to do something, and fast. Sora steeled themself, going with the only option left: the nuclear one. “What if we proved we were strong?” Sora saw Shiro’s head snap towards them. “Would you let us in, then?”

Snow scoffed. “I see! Yes, you would certainly be recognized that way, but that still would not be enough. You must also possess a formal introduction or recommendation by a current or former gladiator recognized within our walls. There are no exceptions.”

Sora gripped the sleeve of Shiro’s coat, not breaking eye contact with the beautiful Snow, who towered over the two. They could feel Shiro shaking in fear. “I-If you’re… if you’re going to stop us, we have to—I mean—we’re going to go through you!’

“Are you? Even with your companion’s shaking legs? Now, if you were indeed able to subdue me, that would be very interesting.” Snow began to stalk around them, his long, white tail stiff as it hung just above the stone bricks. “I find that implausible. Your power and skill mean nothing if you lack the courage to use them. This lack of nerve will be your downfall.”

Sora and Shiro turned to face Snow, who was now behind them. The three D-Evils hissed at his presence, but it did not faze the old lion, who leaned down to meet Shiro eye to eye. “Cowards such as yourself should tuck their tail between their legs and endeavor to never show their faces here again. Now, if you will excuse me.” Snow stood up straight and walked past Shiro, whose shoulders slumped, defeated. Sora turned around to look at the butler, who walked towards the entrance of the theater. They couldn’t let that stand.

“Shiro, don’t listen to him!” Sora grabbed his hand gently, interlocking their fingers.”We were able to go against the exception and win, we can do this if we work together! Then we can get Kengo and go home.”

Shiro looked up at them, a thoughtful look on his face. He nodded, and they braced themselves, hand in hand.

「Sora Watanabe, Guildless, and Shiro Motoori, Guildless

challenge Snow of the Ikebukuro Berserkers, to a battle」

At the sound of the announcer’s voice, Snow stopped mid-stride. He took his hands out of their folded position they were in, and faced the two scared—but determined—teenagers. “Ah, so it appears you respond to taunts.” Snow raised his hands, and three chakrams floated up behind him, spinning slowly in the air. “Let us determine whether your response is as courageous as you think it is.”

The shimmering walls of the Battle Zone encircled the three in a spiraling wave, trapping them within. Onlookers nearby rushed over quickly to see what was going on, or to simply see what they knew would be inevitable carnage.

Shiro pulled the Necronomicon out from its holster, staring Snow down with a look of unease. The pages of the ominous book began to flutter once more with an unseen wind. Just as Shiro turned his head to speak to Sora, he vanished. He and Snow were… gone. The loud crack of shattering stone behind Sora sent a shiver down their spine. They ducked just in time to miss the gloved swipe of Snow’s hand, barely a centimeter away from their head. They landed on the ground, staring up at Snow in abject terror. Shiro was lying face down in a small crater, unmoving.

“Very impressive that you managed to dodge my first attack.” Snow smiled and adjusted his glove. Sora held tight to Boundless Tail, with the realization of how skewed the battle was creeping in. Snow gave them a moment to get to their feet, and began to attack once more.

The chakrams flew at Sora, so fast they looked like smears, a deep, rumbling hum surrounding them on all sides. They dove in time to dodge one, but the other two got their arm, leaving a deep gash. They screamed. Their arm fell limp at their side.

“Ah! No!” Sora cried, stumbling back in time to miss another chakram. They swung their sword a few times, trying to knock the chakrams out of the air, but right before they connected, the chakrams would move. A few more attacks, and their legs had been shredded with thin cuts, their pants slowly dyeing red from the blood.

Sora watched Snow, confused. Everyone usually attacked them directly, and he took out Shiro without any issues… So why hadn’t he done the same for them? The old lion stood near the edge of the Battle Zone, stepping to and fro like a dance, the chakrams mimicking his movements. If they wanted to stop the chakrams, they needed to go for the source.

As they stood, Snow stopped, and took out a silver pocket watch from one of his coat pockets. He sighed. “Oh dear, how careless of me to become so engrossed in this event. At this rate, I’ll be late for my next engagement.”

Now was their chance. Sora bolted for Snow, sword ready. The pocket watch clicked shut. Just as the chakram went for their legs, they dove over it, using their momentum to roll. With as much force as they could muster, they swung for Snow. It grazed his calf as he leapt out of the way, landing elegantly nearby.

“Outstanding!” Snow looked at the ripped fabric of his slack, and beamed, though his smile felt… strange. “You have a significant amount of potential. Were it not for my previous engagement, I would take the time to isolate that potential. As such, I will leave you with this.”

Sora had barely blinked before they felt their head connect with the hard bricks. They screamed, Snow pinning their bad arm to the ground with his foot, putting pressure on the wound. “You fight with tenacity, but you lack motivation; you fight out of necessity and it makes you sloppy. Much like that laggard earlier, you and your companion foolishly challenged someone far out of your league in both skill and power without any idea of what you were getting into. Potential or not, you’re careless.”

They watched as Snow raised his arms once more, the three chakrams reuniting behind him. They began to circle behind his head, spinning faster and faster. A deep, echoing hum filled the air. Sora watched as an image formed in the paths of the chakrams, a mandala, intricate and colored with beautifully vibrant reds, blues, greens, and yellows. They whimpered weakly, tears pouring down their cheeks from sheer agony. The mandala started to turn.

Snow raised his voice, and their golden eyes widened. “Role of the Vassal! Rule of Trinity! Spin, whirl, and dance! Course unending through the circle of reincarnation and soar beyond even the lofty summit of Amne Machin! Physical, ethereal, and astral bodies unite as one with threefold power. Rise now, Ashtamangala!”

The three chakrams hit them, and for a moment, they felt no pain. They floated in unfeeling existence for what felt like minutes. Then, like a great wave, they were aware of everything. Their senses folded in on themselves, shifting and becoming something new. They no longer were just a singularity, but a mass, an ever existing being of many faces, all crying out for an end that would never come. Sora heard, deep within the all of their being, a girl called out for her father, before the voice was swallowed by coils of light.

Then, they felt everything go still.

#放サモ #東京放課後サモナーズ #tokyo afterschool summoners #housamo #aswtwl update #aswtwl

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skzfairyy · 1 year

Text

District 9: Chapter 7

Mafia!AU || skz x OC’s || PG-17 ||

Pairings: Bangchan x oc, Minsung x oc, other pairings to come!

Genre: Angst, Romance, Enemies to Lovers, Friends to Lovers, Humor, AU (& so much more lol)

Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, weapons, language

Status: Ongoing

Wc: 4.2k words.

AN: ooohh yeaaa the squad is back together again !! these up coming chapters are Y2’s favorite.🤭 Also!welcome all the new followers to the D9 series, we hope you guys enjoy it just as much as the texts series that’s being released as well, for those who didn’t know, D9 is available on Wattpad under @/straykidsfairyy ! Hope you guys enjoy this chapter & pls don’t forget to like and leave your feedback!! -Y2K

AGE 20 - VANISH:

Eight long months of radio silence.

The stray kids went about their daily routinely, everything was within their grasp as they waited for the annual gala to arrive.

Minho was in one of his weekly assignment meetings with some of the headmasters when they briefly mentioned that all of the contracted assassins have finally made their way back to Korea. Though his mind was racing, he kept his facial expression neutral. An hour later, he made a beeline to the shared barracks and entered the room quickly.

“They’re back.” He states as soon as the door is shut. Turning around he’s met with Changbin and Jisung, sitting across from each other at their middle table, each of them holding a deck of cards when their eyes snap to Minho's body in the doorway.

“Who’s back?” Changbin questions, his face slightly frowning as he looks at Minho’s winded body.

“The twins are back home.” He locks eyes with his friend, his tone leaving no room for jokes.

Changbin stands up and leaves his cards on the table. “I’ll go find Chris and bring him back here so we can finally get started.”

Minho moves to let him out the door before turning to Jisung. His partner had already moved over to his computer, no doubt searching his old gaming chat room to see if Yura had decided to log on.

Jisung knew about Minho’s weird animosity towards Yura, so he tried his best to keep the pain of her absence from showing too much whenever they spent their time together. The emptiness was a hard thing to explain to anyone, least of all to his own boyfriend. The two have always been open with each other, and to new things involved in their relationship, but to bring up Yura in that way to Minho was not even an option. No matter how obvious the solution was.

“Is she online?” Minho’s question was like a branch of affection towards his partner, coaxing Jisung to finally open up about what’s really been bothering him.

“No.” He shrugs before turning back, offering a tight smile.

“Ji-” Minho starts to speak, but Jisung is quick to cut him off.

“No, she’s probably busy with more important things. Training, reporting to her headmasters or talking with her moms…” His tone fades off as his eyes are trained on the offline profile of his friend.

“Yura hasn’t forgotten about you if that’s what you’re worried about.” Minho moves to stand behind him, his own arms wrapping around Jisung’s waist as he rests his head on his partner’s shoulder.

Though the familiarity is welcomed, Jisung’s mind races with thousands of thoughts that he has to get out of his head. He could no longer ignore the weight that had finally left his shoulders the moment Minho brought up the girl's return. For years this unknown feeling had been pushed aside without acknowledgment in fear of what it would mean for his own relationship. But if their grand plan were to work out, he knew it was time to talk to Minho honestly.

“We should talk.” Jisung breathes out. He removes Minho’s arms and heads back over to his seat.

Minho’s frown was evident as his eyes followed the brunette boy cautiously.

“I worry about Yura often.” His left leg begins to bounce as he speaks, eyes zeroed in on a random item in the room because he knows if he looked at the man who’s been his safe space for years, he might not be able to get his words out.

“I worry about her health, her daily routine, her injuries, her thoughts… as if it’s normal.”

“It’s common to worry about your friends in that way, Ji.”

“See… but I also get jealous. When I see her flirt with Wooyoung, when she tells me about the times she slept with Mark, hell even when she spars with Changbin. Now that�� that is not normal Min.” Jisung’s eyes finally find the courage to look at Minho.

Lee Minho.

The man who’s helped Jisung in more ways than one, the one who was able to break down all his walls and show him what it’s like to love someone. How is he supposed to explain to the person that owns his entire heart, that someone else is the oxygen he needs to breathe? Call him greedy but he needs both of them to survive. Not only is this other person a woman, but Minho’s enemy.

“I like you too.” Minho’s words are soft in Jisung’s ear.

The pair of 17-year-olds had made their way to an empty stairwell in their academy.

Jisung was just given a rather heated lecture from his online friend, Yura, about admitting his feelings for Lee Minho. Yura has always encouraged her friend to be honest with his feelings, even if those feelings were for someone she could otherwise go the rest of her life without ever seeing again. Despite her long-standing feud and general dislike for Minho, she can’t deny the fact that he also genuinely cares a lot about Jisung. Having noticed the many times her arch nemesis had secretly doted on Jisung when he wasn’t paying attention. It wasn’t until Yura made a threat of showing up at 2PM’s academy in the dead of night, carrying a bowl of water with his state of the art high-tech computer’s name on it, did Jisung finally kick his ass into high gear quickly moving through the crowded halls, with only one person on his mind.

Jisung arrived at Minho’s Linguistics class just before it was dismissed, anxiously waiting out in the hall for Minho to exit. A few minutes pass and as he leaves he’s genuinely confused to see Jisung standing outside his lecture hall door, looking more awkward than usual and a bit impatient. The nervous boy wastes no time pulling his friend’s arm, dragging him towards a quiet stairwell, with his heart beating a mile a minute.

“Han Jisung you’re going to pull my arm out of its socket, slow down!” Minho chuckles as they finally come to a stop.

Adjusting the strap of his school bag, Minho scans Jisung for any injuries or obvious issues that he could fix, but of course, Jisung is too wrapped up in his head to notice. When he finally glances at Minho they lock eyes and smile warmly.

Now or never Jisung.

“I like you.” Jisung manages to squeak out, diverting his eyes as his cheeks fill with color.

“I like you, more than a friend Minho, and I know this could change things but I had to get it out because it was practically eating me alive and–”

“I like you too.”

“ – I might have an actual heart attack if I wait any longer to… huh?”

Jisung’s wide eyes dart to the boy in front of him, his shocked look is met with Minho's widening smile.

“For a while now thanks for noticing.” he jokes casually.

“But… you used to run through… so many girls from 2ne1 though?” Jisung’s tone is a bit confused as Minho nods his head with a shoulder shrug, he invades Jisung’s space casually and wraps his arms around the boy's waist.

“If you noticed that stopped, two years ago. And now I spend all my free time with… you.”

“...oh.”

EOF

“What are you saying Jisung.” Minho’s words are calm, but Jisung notices that strained vein in his neck, one that will pop out whenever he's holding back his true emotion, anger.

The two are far from a traditional couple by any means, though they still have some growing to do, they know one thing is for sure, they love each other. Jisung brings out the best in Minho and vice versa. The fine line of their sexuality wavers everyday, making things difficult to explain to others on the outside looking in, but agreeing with themselves and each other that they don’t owe anyone any kind of explanation, they navigate their relationship with ease.

Minho and Jisung have discussed the extent of boundaries for each other often during their walks together, or whenever they can sneak away just for an hour or two to finally getting some alone time. Although they both expressed their openness to a possible third person joining their tangled mess of a relationship, they agreed that they’d discuss it between each other before coming to a decision, and only if both Minho and Jisung felt something real for that person.

Honestly, Minho forgot about the conversation entirely, not that his mind had changed, he’s just been too busy swept up in planning their escape as well as making sure no one within the academy found out about their secret departure. He also must have missed when Jisung’s friendly attention towards the Choi sister shifted into something more.

Jisung’s eyes search his partners before clearing his throat to continue.

“What I’m saying is, we’ve talked about a third before–”

“No.” Minho cuts him off quickly.

“Minho, you haven’t even given her an actual chance–”

“You could have said anyone else Ji, but giving someone as selfish as Choi Yura, a chance in my relationship? Fuck no!”

“She isn’t selfish, a selfish person wouldn’t have forgiven you for the obnoxious tongue lashing you gave her on our last mission together.” Jisung scoffs.

“Why does it even matter if you’re just going to defend her every time anyways?” Minho crosses his arms as they stare each other down from across the room.

“I wouldn’t have to defend her every time if you would just push aside that stupid grudge you’ve had against each other from when we were kids! We’re all different people now. Quit viewing her as the 12 year old girl who pissed you off over a stupid video game!” Jisung finally stands up and heads over to the door of their shared room.

Of course he knew whenever Yura’s name was mentioned, all rationality with Minho was out the window, but call him hopeful this one time. All Jisung wanted was for Minho to hear him out for once, over something that he’s been battling with for months in secret. He naively thought that with all the openness they’ve encouraged together throughout the years in their relationship, Minho would be open to hearing Jisung’s struggles. Apparently, some things never change.

“Where are you going? We have to wait for Chris.” Minho’s jaw is clenched as his eyes follow his partner's retreating figure.

“Out. He can brief me when I get back. Maybe you can think about giving her a chance as a friend since we're going to be stuck together for the next four years anyway.” Jisung finally leaves, slamming the door behind him, leaving an equally angry Minho behind.

The time had finally come for the biggest social event of the season. The annual District 9 Secret Society Gala had arrived just in time for the Choi twins’ return to Korea, and The headmasters wasted no time in getting the girls prepared for an appearance. After their success along with the other agents in Japan, the twins would go to the event as representatives of 2ne1’s academy.

Though the weather was on the chillier side in the early month of December, it didn’t stop guests from arriving in their finest black tie attire. The annual social event is held in the Bangtan Mansion in the middle of District 9. One of the largest estates in the area, made to host the grandest events. Many private rooms within the mansion are reserved beforehand for business deals, discussions, and other more private rendezvous. The Galas are neutral grounds for anything regarding secret society related business. If there were to be a disruption? All parties involved would be dealt with so discreetly you’d never be able to tell there was a problem in the first place.

After being home for two weeks, the girl’s were informed of their assignment to attend the gala as representatives. Much to everyone’s surprise, both girls agreed without any argument.

Another surprise was seeing the sisters separate from each other. Since coming back from Japan their conversations with one another were brief and straight to the point. During their free time you would find Yura walking the grounds of the academy until late in the night while Rina had secluded herself in the library until dinner.

The night before the Gala it was Hwasa who approached the two voicing her own concerns.

FB*

“I don’t know what happened the last few months while you were on mission…”

The raven haired woman leaned against the twins doorway, dressed in her usual matching pajama set as her eyes landed on each girl as they prepared for bed.

“...but once you got back the two of you shared a room with me and Moonbyul for three days like you were seven and scared of the dark again.” She moves to stand in the middle of their beds with her hands on her hips.

“And now it’s been almost two weeks and you’ve barely spoken a complete sentence to each other. Whatever happened… you need to push it aside. Tomorrow you represent the academy and when you represent the academy-”

“Mistakes are unacceptable.” The girls voice in unison finishing Hwasa’s sentence for her.

Both of their eyes looking elsewhere, almost ashamed of the silent scolding she gives. She could say much more, but the walls within their academy home are always listening. So instead, their surrogate mother watches them both with pursed lips before turning away with a nod.

“We’ll talk about this when you get back. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight Eomma.”

EOF*

Nightfall comes before they know it, and the twins arrive at the scene with no time to waste. Rina stands at the top of the grand stairway of the mansion, dressed in a fitted black strapless dress and matching gloves, the slit along her leg opens briefly, displaying her light pink heels as she walks. Her gold jewelry shines under the low lighting, a simple gold pendant rests just above her cleavage, a gift from Jackson Wang from an old mission together that she’s sure to wear whenever she comes to the Gala. Straightened for once, her dark brown hair falls just to the beginning of her ass. Of course, her own weapons are hidden within her dress in case someone tries anything stupid.

Yura stands next to her, dressed in a champagne colored, satin, single strapped dress with a high slit displaying the matching hilted dagger attached to her thigh for everyone to see. Along with black heels decorated with silver studded snakes wrapping around her ankles. Having a weapon on display so boldly may seem tacky for some, but with the twins’ reputation in District 9, they’re allowed certain pleasures that others simply aren��t. Her hair is also straight, falling right at her shoulders and bangs just at her eyes, hiding the recently acquired scar along her eyebrow she got while working in Japan. Her fingers are adorned with simple silver rings matching the rest of the silver jewelry adorning her body.

Both of them looking irresistible and deadly all at once. Despite their mothers’ worries, they’re on their best behavior, treating this night as any other mission required of them, ignoring the miserable pleas to join other organizations and any disturbing sexual advances.

Rina makes her way to the bar with Yura not far behind her. Almost on instinct Rina checks her sister's face for any sign of issues that could trigger her since arriving. Of course things have been rocky ever since their mission, but at the end of the day nobody knows Yura like Rina does. Even with her new, sadistic mentality.

“You okay?”

Yura turns to her sister with a passive look, hoping her eyes can show the uneasy discomfort and anger she was at a loss of knowing how to voice with words.

“You want your usual Manhattan?” Rina continues, her tone dropping slightly already reading her sister like an open book.

“Yeah, that works.” Yura says, releasing a shaky breath of air she was holding in far too long. At least for tonight, she knows her sister will be there in case she snaps.

The twins stood together at the bar for an hour, dodging the older men of the society and losing themselves in a healthy conversation. Joking about random things while sipping on their drinks, slowly healing the cracks of their relationship one shard at a time.

It wasn’t until the girls heard a voice clear beside them, interrupting their conversation, that they remembered where they were and why they were at the Gala in the first place. With a glance to their right, they see none other than their old teammate Christopher Bang himself.

Though it's only been a couple of months since they last spoke, Bangchan looked… different. His usually fluffy brown hair is swiped back with the lightest amount of gel, and his skin was more tanned than the last time they spoke, as if he spent longer training sessions outside these days. His figure was more defined and he carried himself with an air of confidence that wasn’t there before, now it practically radiated off of him. His white dress shirt is slightly unbuttoned underneath his black suit jacket, displaying a simple silver chain around his neck. Rina had to do a double take and make sure this was the same guy who passed out underneath her a year ago. He looked… rugged and down right delectable.

Yura, on the other hand, knew exactly who he was. She scanned his features briefly and noted the usual lovestruck eyes Chan had whenever Rina was around and she couldn’t help but laugh to herself.

“Looks like someone finally grew into their head.” She smirks as she sips from her drink.

“Nice to see you too, Chookie.” The wide smile he’d given Rina turned to a strained one as he acknowledges Yura before he continues. “Can I speak to you ladies for a moment?”

Rina is a bit on guard at his question. their schools worked closely together pretty frequently, so she never thought she’d have to go in a negotiation room with anyone from 2PM. However, her curiosity got the best of her, as well as the chance to catch up with someone she genuinely missed during her time away.

“We better move now.” Yura mentions, her head nodding in the direction behind Chan. As Rina looks past his shoulder, she sees NCT’s newest leader, Mark, as well as his friend and her old… acquaintance, Jeno, making their way over to them.

Bangchan moves to open both his arms for the girls to take, Rina takes his instantly while Yura chugs the last of her drink, before taking his other arm as Chan whisks them away from the bar and an awkward encounter with their past. He leads them down a couple of hallways until they arrive at a door labeled 12. As they enter the dark room, a light is switched on revealing none other than Lee Minho. His black on black suit hugged his figure just as well as Chan’s, his hair fell naturally, as he stood quietly in the corner demanding all the attention in that brief moment.

Yura and Minho locked eyes for a brief moment, her hand quickly hovering over the dagger on her thigh instinctively. As someone who is trained to read people, he noted the reflex of her hand, though he couldn’t help but sense something off about the younger girl. His blood heated with anger at the sight of her face after all these months. He was more than ready to deal with whatever jab she fired and having one just as equally raw and insulting back. Though, now that she’s in front of him he can sense a shift in her that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He scans her body for any inkling of a clue, taking in the way her satin dress hugged her breast and hips in all the right places, he notices new scars that are faint but healing along her arm and shoulders. Her hair grew a few inches as well, still not much longer the length of her usual short bob-

“Minho?”

Their standoff as well as his assessment was put on hold when Rina called his name. He turns to his old friend and offers her a small smile. She returns it before sitting down across from him. Chan takes the seat in front of Minho as the quiet one assesses his childhood friend. Like Yura, Rina was also different. Though she's always been the friendlier one of the two, whatever happened on their mission had really changed the girls he grew up with.

Yura takes a similar stance behind her sister’s seat. Whatever Chan wanted to discuss was serious enough to pull them into a private room, which meant in this moment they weren’t friends, but 2ne1’s academy representatives.

Rina makes herself comfortable as she sits across from Chan, crossing her legs in her chair as the shine of her gold anklet catches his eye briefly, neither of them uttering a word as they stare at each other. And although she won’t say it out loud, Rina’s never seen anything hotter than the agonizingly slow glance over he gives her before settling on her eyes, causing her body to erupt in goosebumps.

Yura, on the other hand, has her back against the wall behind her sister. The knife once strapped to her thigh silently made its way into her hand as she plays with the blade slowly flipping it through her fingers, her face held a neutral expression as her empty eyes are trained on an equally neutral faced Minho, who is trying his best to evaluate the change in personality of the girls in front of them.

“We’ve searched and cleared the bugs from this room. So we can talk freely without anyone listening in.” Chan starts, he knows how crucial it is to get the girls to trust him, in order for this plan to go smoothly.

“What business do you have with our Academy?” Rina asks him, her voice is leveled but inside she’s curious to where this conversation could lead.

She’s never known Chan to be one of the worst members of 2PM’s secret gang, but then again it’s been a while since they last spoke, many things could’ve changed for him.

“It’s not with your Academy…” He starts, “but with you two specifically.”

Although the girls don't react physically, both their minds are reeling, nervous of what else the man in front of them could say.

“Our organizations have worked together for years. You know as well as I do, that what we were taught versus what we do now, are vastly different.”

“So?” Yura says with a bored tone.

“So…” Chan breathes out, his eyes holding something in them the girls can’t truly decipher something along the lines of pain and honesty. ”I want to do something about it, and I think you two may be interested in what we have planned.”

Chan starts by explaining his plans of escaping both organizations. He describes the precautions they’ve taken over the past four months and his plans for the next 4 years or so. The girls listen intently, thinking through any faults in Chan’s plan themselves. They knew that what they so desperately needed was an out. They couldn’t stay loyal members of that horrendous academy any longer, but could this really be the escape that they’d been waiting for?

Rina knew exactly what it meant to disappear completely. They’d be on the run for years, but finally free to heal from their own demons and finally be using their skills for good. All the plans she and Yura talked about in the quiet of their bedrooms for years. Fighting for good instead of bad. It’d be tricky to maneuver with 6 people…but in all her years knowing the men before her, she knows they’re more than capable of executing this plan and she has always been able to trust them.

Yura’s pain from these last few months flashed in her head, along with the worst missions she’d been sent on before that. Every problem she has had to deal with because of the academy ran through her head as she dissected exactly what Chan was asking of them. She’d no longer have to murder innocents or detain young children. She’d be able to right her wrongs and use her skills for the better. As much as she couldn’t stand Lee Minho, life with Stray Kids seemed like paradise compared to the hell she goes through every day. Rina turns her head briefly to look over her shoulder at her cousin. Their ability to communicate through a glance has always been something Chan was in awe of, he doesn’t know what the girls went through while they were in Japan, but if he can get them to agree with this plan maybe he’ll get the time to ask. Yura tucks the knife back in its holster and gets up from the wall, stopping behind Rina's chair to make eye contact with Chan.

“We have some adjustments to this plan.”

As they begin to explain the issues, Minho smiles to himself, amazed that Chan actually got them on board. Their plans are finally falling into place and they’re one step closer to Chan’s master plan: Operation World Domination.

taglist: @toalltheunknown, @skzloveforever, @ryak14

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