#just for a little while then stop once I achieve certain permanent changes I want (low voice + bottom growth)

[saintlesbian]

hm. having a mini gender crisis in the middle of my shift again

#pentababbles #good LORD is this getting annoying #got hit by a sudden dysphoria attack while talking to a girl and had to ask myself: #am I a trans guy or just really really butch?? #like I feel. othered. from cishet women with my alternate lifestyle in spite of both sharing space with them AND being attracted to them #even though I know they see me as one of them so immediately I am Not a Threat despite not performing femininity very well #and I feel no communion or comraderie with cishet men. despite longing to emulate aspects of their performances #I don’t really wanna be seen as a ‘man’ but I don’t wanna be seen as a woman either #to women I want to be seen as an object of attraction. to my friends I want to be seen as masc. to men I want to be seen as a threat #and these things don’t all automatically line up with being a man… #I think I would be more comfortable with femininity if I was at least allowed to be masculine first. #like. I NEED to go shopping in the men’s section so so bad #I’d really like to start taking t. on a low dose #just for a little while then stop once I achieve certain permanent changes I want (low voice + bottom growth) #I wanna get back into exercising to trim some fat #specifically the fat in more feminine areas. I really want that Britney Griner type chest #I’ve also contemplated the name ‘Abraham’ for my irls to call me when I feel less femme #kinda like my butch bartender oc Quincy except I’m. not that muscular and not a she/her #although I’d probably be more comfortable with she/her if I wasn’t forced into femininity so often #I think at the end of the day though. I’m not a trans guy just a weird dyke #bc I like feminine labels specifically in a lesbian manner: I’m okay with being called girlfriend or wife but not with daughter or sister #I’m dykegender. does all that make sense

[briankolbgamedesign]

Asteroid Survivors: Development Update #1

Development has been going smoothly! For the most part! Core game systems such as the player controls, enemy spawning, enemy AI, difficulty scaling and upgrade menu are functional. However, there are a few difficulties in some of the potential upgrades that I had planned in my head. One disappointing result is in a potential bounce upgrade to the bullets which would allow the bullet to collide with an enemy and bounce back to hopefully do some more damage until it leaves the screen or runs out of bounces. The first attempt to make this work involved adding physics to the bullets, the idea being to simply not delete the bullets upon collision based on how many bounces remained.

In testing this was somewhat functional for a short duration after launching the game before all bullets lost velocity permanently, leaving behind a sad trail of unmoving bullets. I hadn't even tried to make the bullets bounce yet ):. I wasn't sure what was causing this but considering this was just a prototype, I aimed to instead make a scuffed band-aid solution to make something work in time for playtesting.

The second attempt was to make a manual bounce effect by applying a force twice as strong as the current one in a slightly random reverse direction. The random angle was throw in to simulate hitting the uneven objects which I deemed worth the inevitable slight speed changes that would come with it. Unfortunately this solution didn't work either; a strange delay would occur no matter what I tried. It was definitely weird to look at the bullet bounce after passing through an asteroid.

That's totally fine is what I told myself. The upgrade is shelved for now, I just swapped it out for a damage upgrade (with some damage numbers that I can't be bothered to center correctly).

On a most positive note, after a large amount of tweaking I think I've got some decent movement from my two more complex enemies. The first enemy is a simply ramming enemy who constantly accelerates towards the player's position every 0.1 seconds but their previous momentum still applies so as long as the player is on their feet the enemy will zoom straight past them. The other enemy is more complex as they are a shooting enemy that attempts to be close but not TOO close, which involved a lot of tweaking. Every 0.1 accelerates towards a random direction in the vicinity of the player while also accelerating away from the player at a set, slightly lower amount. When this is combined with a speed limiter that stops the enemy from moving once they achieve a certain velocity in a direction, the enemy stops moving entirely. Here's what it looks like

It looks a little bit jerky but personally I think it's pretty decent. What's nice is that if I want to make other shooting enemies I can reuse the code and just tweak the values to make them orbit further away or move faster. Going into playtesting, the things I'll be looking out for are satisfaction on the base values of the player character, satisfaction of upgrades, their reaction to the enemy types and the difficulty of the game. I'm sure I'll get some good ideas for more unique upgrades too.

#game design

[rumblelibrary]

In the ball, Doctor!Reader was holding a fan, light blue dress. Reader surprised that Laszlo just came. Reader wants to tell Laszlo that you are private secretary for the Queen and still doctor. Laszlo was surprise as such much. You were talking about why I become private secretary is that the father was captain for the Queen. Laszlo feel the sorry about father of yours. You give sweetest compliment to Laszlo. As Laszlo approached to you closely. Just a lips were attach each other. They are chuckling how precious it is.

(thank you very much for writing that headcanons, you are such sweetest! mwah )

Worlds Apart [Dr Laszlo Kreizler x Doctor!Reader]

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: no warnings, but a very interested Laszlo

Author’s note: hope you enjoy my little product here, <3

A ball is always a lavish event, like it or not, it never failed to impress you the extremes people were able to reach in the name of luxury and social status.

You fanned your way around the room, your light blue dress meeting the lights would shine of a proper life, reminder of the clear blue waters you travelled to come to the event.

You weren’t fond of social events, not because you weren’t used to attend one, but you were hoping to meet someone in particular during this visit in New York. Once you found yourself in such a peculiar moment of your life, you also found yourself guiding your own thoughts on the memory of a man in particular that crossed paths with you a number of times.

“Doctor Y/N” the British ambassador smiled “have you adjusted yourself to the party?” He asked, being your escort for the evening, but also a dear friend of your family he relied upon himself to be your familiar face for the evening. 

“How can somebody not adjust to a party of this measure?” You asked back at him making him chuckle under his big moustaches.

It was when he was about to introduce you to the tenth diplomat of the evening that something attracted your attention. You couldn’t really put a finger on what it was, a movement, a gesture, something that you saw in the corner of your eye.

When you finally recognised the familiar figure you were looking for, you two met in scientific meetings, then on few private dinners and occasion, a man hard to forget, hard to let the experience of him and his ways not get into the way of judging any other man that ever approached you.

A man like him shouldn’t fear comparison.

You excused yourself politely as you approached him, but he already saw you. It was impossible to miss a sight like yours.

“What a surprise, Dr Kreizler”

Laszlo couldn’t hide his own amazement, but the way you approached him mesmerised him already, a smile curling onto his lips showing the undeniable pleasure he had from seeing you.

“Dr. Y/L/N” he said with a smile approaching you “I didn’t expect to meet you here, I thought you were staying over in England”

You smiled “I was, I came for some diplomatic matters”

He was once more taken aback, a soft blink of his eyes, his head lightly titling on side.“Never thought I had to thank any European diplomacy in my experience, until now”

You smirked, he wasn’t a cheeky man, but he knew how to show his interest.

He leaned aside as a waiter passed by with a tray of champagne glasses, Laszlo picked one handing it to you as you let your fan hang by the lace that held it to your wrist. He collected a glass for himself as he leaned on his side offering you his right arm for you to hold onto to walk around the party and also leave the centre of the scene.

“My condolences for your father” he said quietly, of course the news reached him and he sent the kindest letter to you in that grieving occasion, but he wanted to taste the water and see how you were dealing with it. One could call it an occupational hazard, but it was more than that to him.

“Don’t dwell onto it, my father had a long and fulfilling life, one that a daughter is proud to share” you assured him and he nodded taking in your words.

“His role as Captain General of Queen’s guards granted me a new occupation as Her Majesty’s secretary, a role that I wouldn’t have achieved without the countless hours of work and devotion he spent to her service”

Laszlo nodded quietly, part of him despising a bit your father’s good diligence to his role, because that same gift he gave to you also brought you far away from him. In another country, somewhere that made it only harder to him to reach you, but not easier to forget you.

“And what about your professional career? Have you given up the alienist in you?”

You smiled and shook your head

“How could I? Bad habits are hard to erase”

He chuckled as to call your shared doctorate a bad habit was probably the most appropriate definition considering how he got tangled into solving murder cases because of unsolved mysteries into his professional studies.

“How is it?”

A simple question that nevertheless put you in a space of silence for few moments.

“Not easy” you said at first “I mean, the thrill is the amount of new people to meet, the experiences, the different cultures, it is like travelling around the world without leaving my office, scheduling talks and meetings, learning about foreign politics”

“And the less thrilling?”

You chuckled as he just had to do it, he just had to find the little ‘but’.

“Less thrilling, the amount of etiquette and how something we read as normal can be mistaken by other eyes”

He nodded as he listened carefully to you, the wonder still in his mind if even coming from the same background he could still be misunderstood.

More than him, his intentions.

He stared at you as your little stroll brought the both of you to more quiet surroundings, the chats fading slowly in the background, while the music was a more pleasurable companion to your little conversation.

A sense of urgency creeping over him, the need to ask you how long were you staying, if you were going to leave any time soon, if there was time, any time, left.

“I have read your latest articles” you said and he blushed visibly not expecting you to have done so, distracting him from his doubts and wonders.

“For real?” He asked a bit more innocently than he intended, naturally flattered by your admission.

“I did” you assured him “I am collecting them, you’re becoming quite famous in your field, the benefits of your job must be showing on every child that has the luck to be relied into your care”

By now his smile was permanent, that inner sweetness he so hard defended shining bright onto him only by naming ‘his’ kids.

You admired his devotion to the Institute, his dedication to help them, always reaching beyond his own possibilities.

“Don’t look at me like that” he said only.

“Why not? Have I lied?”

“You’re being too generous with yours words”

“And you too miser about it”

He smirked once more as he couldn’t possibly win against you, guiding you among the luscious flowers display of the decor he stopped resting his untouched champagne on the edge of a vase to take your hand.

“How long can I benefit of your presence, my dear?”

You were surprised of the nickname, he was burning bridges, but who wouldn’t when fighting against time.

“I will be staying two more weeks”

He smiled, his thumb slowly tracing the back of your gloved hand.

“It seems a lot and nothing at the same time” he assures to you, your smile playing onto him with untold feelings that he hinted so many times, it felt almost foolish to even express them with else than actions.

He leaned in, a sudden lack of courage creeping in until your eyes met his, the certain feeling to be corresponded warming his chest.

Your neck stretched out a bit toward him as he slowly closed the space between your lips.

There, hidden among the luscious flowers coming from the far east to adorne a ball, you found yourself welcomed by the loving certainty of Laszlo’s affections.

No more hinting, no more hidden sweetnesses and tender talks.

You felt true and real, you felt like life could welcome you again after all the changes and the grief. You never realised how unsettled you felt, how much you were waiting for it, until your lips parted.

He looked down at you as your lips granted him another smile and soft chuckle.

The happiness you felt in this moment never been so real, so pure.

The honesty of his feelings leaving you doubtless.

It was a matter on what country you were, but who was with you.

Tagged @cazzyimagines @lieutenantn @handmaiden-of-mischief@thesunflowersutra @zemomybeloved​ @fictionlandslanddreams @charistory @greeneyedblondie44​ @celtic-witch-bitch Let me know if you want to get tagged too <3

#laszlo kreizler fanfic #laszlo kreizler x y/n #laszlo kreizler fanfiction #laszlo kreizler imagine #laszlo kreizler x you #laszlo kreizler headcanons #laszlo kreizler x reader #dr laszlo kreizler #dr kreizler x reader #dr laszlo kreizler imagine #dr laszlo kreizler x you

[themonotonysyndrome]

REDACTED verse - Another day in Dahlia

Summary: When worlds collide, Aaron and Smartass has the ‘old, married couple’ moment when a wolf is loose in a hypermarket. 

-

Dahlia is lively today, the afternoon sunlight dazzling upon the city. Familiar faces, familiar sights and familiar roads are everywhere. 

And yet, the man who couldn’t stop bickering with his lover since the two of them stepped out of IKEA is a changing man living in this familiar city. 

Aaron likes to think that he retains his best qualities despite the passing of time. Firm, true and level-headed - traits that have served him well both in his personal and work life. Traits that have earned him recognition, achievements and praises. However, against a fiery soul housed within an infuriating yet gorgeous body, Aaron has never felt so breathless and helpless. 

And most importantly, lovestruck. 

Unstable and uncharacteristically hesitant, the pieces of himself that are held together with patience have been pulled apart by its seams. But they weren’t destroyed; no, they rearrange themselves into an amazing new form. Aaron isn’t quite yet certain what that new form brings, but already, he could feel himself grow into a man that wholly compliments his lover. 

Like a planet revolving around a beautiful, bright star. He can’t help but be drawn by the star’s gravity. 

There’s balance between them, despite their strong-willed personalities. They sooth the other when one burns too brightly, they offer guidance when the other is unsure. Balanced and happy, that’s what they are. 

There’s never emptiness when silence envelops them. Isn’t there a saying that whenever you’re with your loved one, silence is never oppressive? 

Although, to be fair, silence doesn’t last long whenever they’re together. Not when there’s always something to bicker, something to discuss and something to tease about. 

Case in point, the ugly as fuck lamp that Aaron fought tooth and nail to convince his partner not to buy. 

“Look, it’s not even your money; I was going to use mine for it!” 

“It’s not about the money, Smartass.” Aaron replies back with a roll of his eyes. They’re at the parking lot getting ready to head off to the hypermarket next. The two of them had spent four hours of furniture shopping at IKEA after his Smartass made an offhand comment last week about his couch being way too old and lumpy for gaming nights and movie marathons. 

But before either of them realise it, what was supposed to be a simple couch purchase turned into perusal of dining tables, desks and floor lamps. Aaron got them back on track when you excitedly pulled him towards that last part.

Aaron had never before questioned your taste in furniture before but at that point, he starts to draw the line at a red, human shaped floor lamp. It bows slightly with the most creepy smile he had ever seen on a statue before. 

“I just don’t want to have a heart attack everytime I wake up, alright? You wanted it in our bedroom, beside our bed and it’s creepy beyond all reason.” 

“It’s functional though.” 

“So were the other floor lamps.” Aaron easily pointed out. He opened the car door and waited, unamused, for you to get in. Unfortunately, judging by how your arms folded across your chest in a stubborn pose, his spitfire didn’t want to drop their conversation. 

“What if I put it in the living room?” You suggest instead, the familiar defiant spark made itself known. 

Aaron held himself back from groaning in despair. Why are you so hung up about that lamp!? “I don’t think it’ll fit with the… aesthetic of our house, OK?” He tried the tactical approach first, knowing that a straight up no would not pacify his partner at all. “How about this; we’ll go with your couch and desk and my preference for the dining table. There. Is that good enough for you, Your Highness?” 

You purse your lips, but the both of you know that you’re not so hung up about the floor lamp to drag this argument any further. Aaron wisely chooses not to comment how your lips slowly curve into a smile. 

“Fine. I’ll let you win this round - ”

“Oh my god - ”

“But in return, I’ll be taking over for lunch later.” 

Aaron immediately shut his mouth, surprise and secretly a little giddy that his Smartass had taken the initiative of making a meal for them. That lasted for about a split second before something dawn onto him. 

“You want free reign at the hypermarket later, right?” 

This time, you beam happily but say nothing as you finally slip inside of the Mercedes. And as usual, silence spoke louder than words. Aaron exhales loudly, not knowing whether to laugh or mutter a curse. Trust in his lover to have the final say, ultimately. 

But that’s one of the many reasons why he fell so hopelessly in love with you. 

-

The hypermarket is busy for a Saturday. Smartass pointed at the sales and promotions board display in big letters and numbers when the two of you entered the building, hand in hand. Ah, that makes sense. Children run about clutching snacks in their little hands to convince their exasperated parents into buying, worned out staff restock empty shelves and the scent of fresh produce and floor detergents clings in the air. A familiar sight. 

“How do you feel about crabs?” Smartass begins the conversation. Aaron doesn’t understand why you bother asking him when you’re already dragging him towards the cold, seafood area. Aisles of fresh fish of all kinds are clearly displayed for visitors, the more expensive kind are packaged and a few men are working behind the butcher service counter. 

“I can go for some crabs. It’s been a while anyway.” Aaron answered, grabbing a nearby stack of baskets for their grocery. He tried to recall the last time they had any seafood and his mind helpfully supplied a restaurant where they went to for dinner in March. 

He lets you gather your thoughts as you stare at the frozen crabs critically as if they were spreadsheets. “I’m thinking of rice with a side of buttery crab meats, Salmon sashimi, Shiitake soup and lotus root salad. Sounds good?” 

As soon as he invited his Smartass to permanently move in with him, you had totally taken over the kitchen. Apparently you weren’t terribly amused when he admitted that he’s not much of a cook but hey, he never once complained when you served the best homemade vegan burgers with a glare and a silent, “Go ahead. I dare you to say that they taste like shit. Make my day, Aaron.” 

So instead, after he cleaned their dishes, Aaron proceeded to throw his lover on their bed to thoroughly thank you for the meal. 

Four hours later, the flushed and surprised expression on your face was so worth it. 

But we’re getting off tangents here. 

“Sounds absolutely delicious.” Aaron replied and startled his Smartass with a sudden kiss on your cheek. “Now stop glaring at the crabs and pick some already. We have half of the ingredients back home and I’d rather not spend the rest of our remaining Saturday in the hypermarket. So let’s get to it.” 

Smartass hum in agreement and grab your own basket. Together, they made quick work of what they needed to buy. Not just for lunch, but for the upcoming weeks too. Crabs, Salmons, some meat and later pea sprouts, red cabbages and lotus root - the both of them are more inclined to healthy meals rather than take outs and it really helps that Smartass suggest preparing ingredients that they could cook for the rest of the week, given their busy work lives. Vegetable dishes are flexible and easy enough to cook into anything anyway. 

They moved on from the frozen, seafood aisles and the produce section to where the personal care products are. Aaron holds up his phone in between them so Smartass could check what’s next on the list. 

“Oh shit. I totally forgot that my shampoo and conditioners just ran out.” Smartass blurted. “Thanks for adding that into our grocery list.” 

Aaron scoffs. “You mentioned it twice during dinner last night - in between debating whether or not Game of Thrones is better than Lord of the Rings, mind you - so I can understand why you forgot” Colourful rows of shampoo bottles greeted them when they walk past a couple who’s pushing their trolley carts away from the shelves. He grabs your favourite brand and places them in his basket. “You’re brilliant, Smartass, but I can’t help pity that poor hamster living in your brain for having to run in its ball all day long.” 

You gasp, affronted, while Aaron laughs at the look on your face. Even smacking his arm did nothing to stop his laughter. “You’re too easy to rile up sometimes, you know that Smartass?” He smirks and grabs a toothpaste next. They’re running low on that too. In retaliation for his remark, Smartass sneakily pulled that toothpaste out when Aaron was checking his phone and chose the one with the strawberry flavour instead. 

When Aaron shot you an inquisitive look, you just smiled innocently and quickly distracted him by insisting that they need to get some snacks. 

“That reminds me, it’s not on the list but we have to buy ramune soda. Oh, and some potato chips too.” You pointed out as the two of you rounded away from a large family who stopped in between the body wash shelves and hair serums. “Have you noticed that we go through ramune sodas like crazy lately?” 

The snacks and beverage section is one of the highlights of this hypermarket, in Aaron’s humble opinion. Not only do they have an abundance of the local goods, they also have a wide selection of some really good imported snacks or as Aaon like to call it, your ultimate weakness.  

“Yeah but be honest, are you really going to stop your addiction anytime soon?” 

“What is this? Bully me day?”

“Hey, you’re the one who said it, not me, Smartass.” Aaron is quick to quip back and this time, you roll your eyes. Even if it’s true, it doesn’t mean that you have to like it. 

But that’s Aaron - his words always serve a meaning and come straight from the heart when it’s for the things that truly matter. It’s annoying and yet, it’s one of his best qualities. 

However, just as you were about to rebuke him, the two of you heard a passing conversation nearby the soda shelves. 

“ - not going to play bartender at home again, Angel. Why not? Alright then; let me jog your memory, hmm? The last time I left you alone in the kitchen for more than 3 hours, you came out carrying a tray with the embodiment of everything unholy on this planet separated into three shot glasses.” 

“It was just ramune soda mixed with rose syrup, grass jelly and vinegar!” 

“Asher had a stomach ache for a week, Angel.” 

“But Davey, how do you expect me to get better at it if you don’t let me practice? See? There’s a flaw in your plan!” 

“I’d rather we go to a bar the next time you’re in the mood to poison the both of us.” 

You didn’t mean to eavesdrop on their conversation but you couldn’t help snicker at the stranger’s very much put out and deadpan tone. It gives an implication that this isn’t the first time this ‘Angel’ did something as crazy as mix sodas with vinegar. Hell, even the man’s comment earned a soft chuckle from Aaron. 

“Sounds like he got quite a handful lover over there. Remind you of someone?” Aaron whispered. They couldn’t properly see the couple due to a stack of Dorito boxes in between them but you could spot a tall man wearing a pretty nice looking leather jacket and his partner beside him.

“If you’re implying that I’m unreasonably difficult - ”

“No, no. Just… hmm, passionately stubborn, I suppose.” Aaron nonchalantly replies with a smirk. He guffaws when you poke at his sides and spin around to the rows of ramune with a dramatic huff. Aaron easily follows suit with a fond smile. 

This section of the aisle is quiet unlike the previous ones that’ve been, Aaron noticed. The humming of the air conditioner above them and the crinkling of a plastic bag of chips in Smartass’ hand were the only sounds that broke the comfortable silence. Even the murmurs from the other couple melts into background noises the further Aaron and his walk away. 

That is, until a hair-raising snarl shattered the quietness. 

What’s worse, it sounded like a wolf. 

Aaron reacted instinctively. He opted for the defense - grabbing his Smartass’ free hand, pulling you close to him. His searching eyes are frantic while his mind is trying to make sense that a wolf is somehow in this hypermarket. Full of people. What the fuck!?

Smartass, however, opted for the offense. You grab the nearest glass bottle by the neck and were about to smash it against the metal shelf if it weren’t for Aaron’s quick thinking. He immediately grabs your wrist and shoots you an incredulous look. Silently judging your choices in life. 

‘You have a better idea on how to deal with a fucking wolf!?’ Smartass demanded in silence. Your expression is bewildered; as if you couldn’t believe that Aaron wouldn’t let you shank an unknown threat just around the corner. 

In return, Aaron pulls you closer to his body and glares out, ‘I’m not letting you throw yourself in front of a wolf!’

‘I’m protecting us!’ Smartass countered back, glaring just as heatedly. 

A sweet giggle suddenly interrupted their mental argument. Their hearts skip a beat in fear at the unknown. 

“Ok, ok. How about this, Davey: I'll let you dress me up when we go to the bar tomorrow. How’s that? Does that make my Wolf not jealous anymore?” The same voice they accidentally eavesdropped previously bargained in a teasing tone. 

Smartass and Aaron exchange a bewildered and confused glance. What the fuck did they just said? My Wolf? Was the realistic animal snarl came from the boyfriend!? He must’ve some serious vocal cords and throat to be able to make that sound!

Aaron exhales loudly while Smartass allows him to grab the glass bottle that you were still holding to put it back on the shelf. 

“I think I just lost five years of my life.” Aaron complains.

Smartass said nothing. Without even saying anything, you march to where the couple are. Aaron curses under his breath and quickly chases after you. 

The man in the black leather jacket and his partner glanced at his Smartass when you approached them with a practised smile. One that Aaron knew meant trouble. How could he not when he’s the receiving end of that smile more than he could count. 

When Smartass wants answers, you’ll do everything in your power to get it and Aaron is really not looking forward to wrangling his partner from starting a brawl in the middle of a damn hypermarket. 

“Hi there.” His Smartass began, your body language deceptively open and friendly. “Are you two alright?” 

“Eh?” The one standing beside the tall, frowning man replies with a blink. Upon closer inspection, Aaron realises that he and what looks to be the leader of a local gang are similar in built. 

“Can we help you?” The gang leader interjects. He’s frowning but he doesn’t appear angry. Just confused like his partner. Though he nodded in greeting when Aaron slid up beside Smartass. 

“Didn’t you hear that noise just now?” Smartass plays shock. “It sounded like someone released a wolf in the hypermarket!” 

The man in the leather jacket suddenly looked like he just sucked a lemon; his eyes are comically wide. Meanwhile, his partner’s eyes are equally as wide. Aaron detects a hint of realisation glint in their eyes. Now isn’t that interesting? 

Well, Smartass thought so too. You pressed on. “You heard it too right? Damn near give me a heart attack! I wonder if the nearby staff also heard it - ”

“It’s probably the ventilation system or something.” The gang leader quickly replied, his expression oddly shifted to neutral. Beside him, his partner opens their mouth to say something but he quickly presses his palm over it. They throw a pointed look at him but he resolutely ignores it. “Anyway, good luck with your grocery shopping.” 

Aaron watches him grab his partner by the hand and gently drag them away. It was only when they’re out of sight that they started furiously chatting. 

“Wow, Davey, your slip up was even worse than Asher’s!” 

“We’re so not telling him about this, Angel.” 

“...Does this mean I can tell Babe instead?” 

“Wha - No, that wasn’t an invitation to tell his Mate!” 

Aaron turns to Smartass who just shrugs. Neither of them could figure out what just happened. He’s just glad that you let them escape. 

“Maybe they have some really kinky roleplaying thing going on.” Smartass guessed, wiggling your eyebrows suggestively. 

Aaron runs his palm down his face in exasperation. “I don’t give a shit, Smartass. Can we please just finish up our grocery shopping already? I’m starting to get hungry.” 

“Alright, alright. We just have to grab a few more things and then we can pay.” Smartass assured him and off they continued on their way. 

Though neither of them still couldn’t help but wonder how the hell that man managed to sound like a wolf so accurately. 

Kinky roleplay or not. 

-

I’m tentatively planning to make this into a mini series including the rest of the non-empowered characters with their lovers. I’m already writing for Oliver and Baby so we’ll see how that goes! 

#redacted asmr #fanfic #second pov #they/them pronouns #gender neutral s/o #smartass (listener) #Aaron #david shaw #angel (listener)

[ritsushinbro]

My Critique of Rebuild of Evangelion's Characterization: I originally wrote this post on the Evageeks forum and decided to post it here. It discusses the relationship between Misato, WILLE and the pilots and whether it is realistic and in-character. Warning this post contains spoilers and is very long. Also has references to self-harm and suicide.

With each revelation that comes out regarding the measures WILLE take against Shinji and their own pilots, it becomes more and more unrealistic for me to the point where it's almost comical. Let's go through some of them here:

They wear the explosive DSS chokers 24/7 which will kill the pilots should they risk awakening an Eva.

They are kept in a single room rigged with explosives.

In Shinji's case, he is (intended to be) put in 24/7 solitary confinement with explosives fitted as well.

Shinji is escorted around the wunder whilst restrained on a stretcher. (NOTE: The only time he isn't, is when Sakura takes him to Ritsuko).

It is confirmed in another thread that Misato gave clear permission to the crew for them to shoot Shinji on sight if they suspect he is attempting to get into an Eva. 

Now let me attempt to deconstruct these measures one-by-one:

It is understandable that Asuka and Mari wear DSS chokers because after all they are pilots and there is a risk of awakening. However in Shinji's case, he is forbidden from piloting and so there is no risk of awakening (remember Ritsuko did not think NERV would come after him, so they had no reason to think he would escape). So why place the DSS choker on him? Well we have already established it is simply because they have a resentment against him; there is no special, pragmatic reason. Is this realistic? Well I would say no for reasons I will explain later but I can certainly understand why others may say it is.

I don't think I will understand why they would keep their two main "soldiers" if you will, in an explosively rigged room. I believe others have  stated that from a tactical point, it's an extremely dumb move on WILLE's part. After all, if Asuka and Mari didn't have plot armor, what's to stop Gendo from tricking WILLE into killing their own pilots with these explosives? How would WILLE stop Gendo then? Will they use Shinji? No, for reasons I will state later. And another thing, we know that their rooms were already fitted with explosives so why on Earth would they add extra after the events of Q (when they stopped 4th impact). What do they hope to achieve with more bombs? Make the pilots more "deader" than they already are? In my opinion, this doesn't even come across as paranoid but just plain childish. Is this measure realistic from a story standpoint? No not in my eyes.

We know they intended to put Shinji in a solitary cell as this is what they do in Shin. If it was solitary confinement on it's own, then I believe it would be a realistic measure that would happen in real life. However I believe the writers did not factor in the effects of solitary confinement (especially one that is rigged to explode) on fully grown men; never mind a 14 year old who's just come out of a 14 year coma. Many people think solitary confinement is a walk in the park so I made another post a while ago highlighting why that's not the case:

"I remember when before Shin came out people here theorized that if Shinji stayed on the Wunder, they would eventually softened to him and let him help in ways that wouldn't have involved piloting. However with these revelations it looks like they intended to keep him in an isolated room far from everyone else that is (presumably) rigged with explosives as well as keeping the choker on his neck. Not even allowed to freely leave his cell without WILLE's permission (it is unlikely they would let him out judging from these measures). 

Even though Asuka and Mari were treated like this as well, at least they had each other and were able to leave as they had responsibilities in piloting. But Shinji was forbidden from piloting and was to be kept by himself except maybe being checked up on by Sakura now and again. So judging from these leaks (we will have to wait to properly see the full context) WILLE intended to lock Shinji in solitary confinement.

I have copied and pasted some of the effects of Solitary Confinement from Wikipedia below:

“Psychiatric: Research indicates that the psychological effects of solitary confinement may encompass "anxiety, depression, anger, cognitive disturbances, perceptual distortions, obsessive thoughts, paranoia, and psychosis." The lack of human contact, and the sensory deprivation that often go with solitary confinement, can have a severe negative impact on a prisoner's mental state that may lead to certain mental illnesses such as depression, permanent or semi-permanent changes to brain physiology, an existential crisis, and death.

Self-harm: According to a March 2014 article in American Journal of Public Health, "Inmates in jails and prisons attempt to harm themselves in many ways, resulting in outcomes ranging from trivial to fatal." Self harm was seven times higher among the inmates where seven percent of the jail population was confined in isolation. Fifty-three percent of all acts of self harm took place in jail. "Self-harm" included, but was not limited to, cutting, banging heads, self-amputations of fingers or testicles. These inmates were in bare cells, and were prone to jumping off their beds head first into the floor or even biting through their veins in their wrists. A main issue within the prison system and solitary confinement is the high number of inmates who turn to self-harm. Many of the inmates look to self-harm as a way to "avoid the rigors of solitary confinement."

Physical: Solitary confinement has been reported to cause hypertension, headaches and migraines, profuse sweating, dizziness, and heart palpitations. Many inmates also experience extreme weight loss due to digestion complications and abdominal pain. Many of these symptoms are due to the intense anxiety and sensory deprivation. Inmates can also experience neck and back pain and muscle stiffness due to long periods of little to no physical activity. These symptoms often worsen with repeated visits to solitary confinement.

Social: The effects of isolation unfortunately do not stop once the inmate has been released. After release from segregated housing, psychological effects have the ability to sabotage a prisoner's potential to successfully return to the community and adjust back to ‘normal’ life. The inmates are often startled easily, and avoid crowds and public places. They seek out confined small spaces because the public areas overwhelm their sensory stimulation.”

And this is just for solitary confinement. There are so many other things going on with and happening (or could happen) to Shinji such as the things below:

Shinji being only 14 years old.

Shinji being abandoned and neglected by his father.

Shinji being coerced/emotionally blackmailed to pilot Unit 1.

Shinji seeing girls he cared for "die".

Shinji being in a coma for 14 years.

Shinji being told he has a bomb on his neck.

Being told it is because he is being punished.

Being told he cannot pilot the eva anymore (he is effectively "useless" now).

Have his former co-pilot and friend try and punch him after he thought she was dead.

[Potentially] being told he started NTI and devastated the world.

[Potentially] being told that the girl he tried to save is "gone" and that she was a clone of his mother.

Being imprisoned in a cell (presumably) surrounded by explosives and not being able to freely leave.

Be completely isolated from everyone except when being checked up by a girl who's father he got killed. (NOTE: Mari might want to see him so Shinji at least has her, maybe). 

Have his mother figure (the woman who made him pilot the eva the most) threaten to detonate the choker around his neck and blow his head off when he tries to leave.

With the above list, is it any wonder his head is so messed up? I understand the purpose of these films is all about growing up and taking responsibility but expecting Shinji to willingly allow himself to be subjected to the treatment WILLE had in store for him is pure, unadulterated masochism. Much of what was is written here can safely be considered cruel, inhumane and arguably, torture. 

There is a massive difference between taking responsibility for one's mistakes and just letting the whole world torture you because you did something bad. My main fear and problem with Q and Thrice is that their main theme, which is accepting responsibility, is equated with accepting unreasonably cruel treatment. And I just think that is an EXTREMELY unhealthy message to send to people especially if they are depressed or live in abusive relationships."

When you take all these into account, does it place into perspective how messed up Shinji would have been had he stayed on the wunder? This is assuming that they thought they would never have a need for him, but as we find out in Shin, they needed Shinji in the end to defeat Gendo. If Shinji never left with Mark 09 and Misato successfully kept him "protective" custody, then one of three things would have happened when WILLE actually needed him to save everyone:

A: He would not have been in the mental state to pilot Unit 1 and Gendo would have completely wrecked him due to shit synch ratios. 

B: He would have told Misato and co. to fuck off and die. We've seen this nihilism before from Shinji (after the 5th angel). His incarceration alongside the humiliation and guilt from wearing the choker will have ratcheted up by a million.

C: He wouldn't have piloted because he would have killed himself. There's only so much a 14 year old can take and when subjected to a fate that causes even hardened criminals to resort to self-harm, genital mutilation and suicide, then what chance does Shinji have? 

Now back to my original point, do I think this measure is realistic? I would like to say yes if it was the solitary on it's own, however when combined with the other things, then I think the chances of Shinji commiting suicide is extremely high to the point where it's not believable for him to continue as an anime protagonist. You have to make sure the protagonist goes through difficulty in order to experience growth and change, however if you make it too harsh (to the point of committing suicide) then it seems less believable that they live to continue the story. On a separate note, many people think that Shinji was immature for leaving with Mark 09 the first chance he got and that this is proof that he is, in Asuka's words, a "brat". But let's be realistic, if this story is about Shinji's growth and maturation, then how exactly would WILLE's treatment of him be conducive to that? The truth is WILLE's sheer hostility towards him would have completely stunted any emotional growth and maturation in Shinji and it would have destroyed the point of the film. Also no-one can argue that WILLE would have eventually "come round" or "softened-up" towards Shinji because even after 14 years they still don't trust their own pilots. So yeah, Shinji most likely would have been stuck in solitary with a bomb around his neck until he either killed himself or the war ended (but even this doesn't guarantee his freedom).

Regarding the stretcher business. I don't understand why you have to restrain Shinji on a stretcher when the kid has already surrendered himself and has come voluntarily. Maybe WILLE are just full of bondage fetishists; it would certainly explain the chokers as well. 

If the DSS chokers and the explosive rooms weren't enough, Misato actually gave orders to the crew to shoot Shinji if they thought he was trying to pilot again. At this point, I just think this is just overkill. I mean the kid has a bomb on his neck that prevents him from awakening an Eva, you intended to keep him locked up even though he can't really leave the wunder except with outside help and now you intend to shoot him if you think he'll get into an Eva. The problem with this, is that piloting an Eva requires all the bridge-bunnies to sortie the damn thing. Shinji cannot enter Unit 1 by himself, especially since the thing is being used as an engine so why do they assume that Shinji is capable of being Sam Fisher and sneaking into Unit 1? We see that Sakura and Midori are actually willing to shoot Shinji in 3.0+1.0 and do so when he merely suggests that he pilot Unit 1. But seriously what harm would Shinji have done in Unit 1 considering the fact that Gendo was already going to start another impact anyway? Why actively try and kill (or injure in Sakura's case) the only guy that can save your ass? One cannot argue that they were just being "desperate or panicking" because in Midori's case, she actually takes the time to confirm her orders from Misato. This shows that at least, she was still of lucid mind. This particular altercation just beggars belief in my mind and the fact that Misato actually gave those orders on top of all the other measures is absolutely extraordinary. So as you can imagine, I do not think this was realistically executed.

However, I can already hear some detractors say: "So what? Misato hesitated to detonate the DSS choker and also took a bullet for Shinji. She redeemed herself from putting the DSS choker on him and the kill-order for if they thought he would try and get into an Eva." 

And to those people I say….not really. There is an idiom attributed to Benjamin Franklin and it goes like this: "An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure." How does this apply to Misato and Shinji's relationship? Well Misato wouldn't have had to hesitate to pull the trigger if she didn't put it on him in the first place. Misato wouldn't have had to take a bullet for Shinji, if she didn't give permission for the crew to shoot him in the first place. Let's take this following dialogue for example:

916-929:

Kitakami: "It's a good thing we got Major Shikinami back. But why'd we have to take that disease along with her?"

Aoba: "Just leave it alone. Better than Nerv still being able to use him."

Tama: "If he tries to get into an Evangelion, all hands have permission to shoot on sight. There's nothing to worry about this time."

Kitakami: "Come on, that's all for show. The last time he broke out of here, the Captain couldn't put him down. I've got zero trust about this time either."

Nagara: "He was a kid. I can understand why she'd hesitate."

Kitakami: "That 'kid' caused Near Third Impact and murdered my entire family!"

Hyuga: "Near Third was a consequence of what he did, not his goal. The Captain's doing her best to atone for that too."

Takao: "That's right. She's who Kaji entrusted with Wille, and it's our job to trust the captain."

We learn a few things from this dialogue. Firstly, the older WILLE members are much more understanding to Shinji and Misato's situation: Aoba and Hyuga understand that it's better to keep an eye on Shinji and that he never meant to start NTI, Takao is one who always trusts Misato's judgement and Sumire understands that Misato would have found it difficult to kill a child, especially one that Misato was close with. 

Secondly, it appears that the younger WILLE members (Midori, Sakura and Tama) are the ones that are fearful/hateful towards Shinji (NOTE: Tama is a strange case, he strikes me as the sort of kid that just follows what everyone else is feeling. He might not feel anything towards Shinji beyond what you'd expect). 

Finally it appears that most of WILLE crew members are actually reasonable people and are not the extremely desperate and paranoid individuals some people on the forum believe. Remember this is AFTER Shinji started the 4th impact in Q. The fact that some of the WILLE crew members speak of Shinji in this way, show they are capable of understanding. Most actually trust Misato and respect her judgement except for Midori, who questions Misato's capabilities in following through on her threats. 

Which brings me to my next point. Misato has had no hesitation in pulling rank in the past. In 2.0, she even has an altercation with Ritsuko, her best friend, right before they fight the 8th angel. Misato is a woman that will tell even her best friend to STFU, when it comes to doing what she wants. Having said that, (timeskip shenanigans aside) there's no reason why she couldn't have done the same with the younger WILLE crew members. She could have nipped all of it in the bud by telling Sakura, Midori and the rest of them that Shinji was groomed to cause NTI and it was not his fault.

Instead, despite being the captain that everyone loves and fears, she kowtowed to the crew's paranoia and had the pilots fitted with explosive chokers, put in explosively rigged solitary confinement and gave the order to kill Shinji if they feared the worst. This is the sort of thing that drives fully grown men to suicide, never mind 14 year olds that have just come out of a coma. Imagine if Shinji did commit suicide in his cell. Who would Misato and WILLE have turned to in order to defeat Gendo in the end? What if Gendo tricked WILLE into killing their own pilots with the explosives? They would be properly screwed then. If Misato actually cared, as we are led to believe from her hesitation to kill Shinji, then she would have told the rest of the WILLE crew to fuck off, instead of alienating and putting Shinji and the pilots in that much risk. Are we really expected to believe that Misato placed such extreme countermeasures on Shinji just to appease Midori and Sakura? Not likely. This is why I believe that Misato would not have put the DSS choker on Shinji in the first place, and her doing so in Q was extremely unrealistic and out of character, even with anything that happened during the timeskip.

Some of you will say: "Who cares about realism? It's a show about aliens and growing up." While this is true, Anno has proven that he is able to pull the themes off much better when you look at the NGE series. Disregarding the self-contained narrative, it is obvious that the purpose of Q was to bring Shinji to the same point he was at after episode 24 of the series. If we look at how NGE/EOE handled Shinji's depression, we see that it is quite realistic:

The neglect and coercion by the adults in his life, almost dying to angels multiple times, the sexual tension with Asuka, almost killing Touji, finding out Rei is a clone of his mother, Misato putting the moves on him and having to kill Kaworu all culminate towards Shinji's mental state during EOE. Shinji is passively suicidal but it's due to the *situation* and his own introverted tendencies instead of people actively trying to hurt and isolate him. He finds the will to live again due to his mothers words despite knowing just how difficult living might be. If you remove all the Evas and the Angels from the story, the themes that are touched upon (isolation, neglect, misunderstanding) still apply and the audience can still resonate with them. 

The rebuilds however go about it completely differently. They bring Shinji to that same suicidal state by having all the characters/plot actively harm Shinji's mental health by:

Putting him in a coma for 14 years so he is completely clueless. Imagine how groggy you are when you wake up in the morning and then multiply that by a million. 

Have Misato psychologically castrate Shinji by telling him he won't do anything with a look of disdain on her face.

Have Ritsuko make Shinji feel dread by telling him he has a bomb on his neck and it's because he is being "punished".

Not tell him why he is being punished when he asks Misato.

Have Asuka try to punch Shinji after he thought she was dead.

Tell Shinji the girl he saved is "gone”.

Have his "mother figure" threaten to blow his head off for wanting to leave with the girl you just told him is gone.

Have Asuka and Mari attack Shinji in Lilith's chamber even though Shinji was seemingly willing to listen to them had Asuka not kept attacking. (Watch that scene again and you'll see when Asuka learns what Shinji is trying to do, she stops attacking but instead of explaining that he's being manipulated, she just calls him a brat instead).

Even Mari was willing to potentially kill or cripple Shinji with the Anti-AT rounds. (We don't know what the AA rounds are truly capable of because the only time they are used on screen, they don't work. The round cartridges state that they are armor and AT field piercing and have explicit restrictions on their use. The fact that Mari requires Asuka's explicit authorization to use them imply that they are most likely lethal and would have killed/crippled Shinji had he been in a normal Eva). 

Have Shinji's friend's head explode with the device Shinji's "mother figure" actually meant for him. Imagine seeing someone's head explode and then remember that your "mother figure" actually meant that to be for you. That would certainly mess anyone up.

Have Asuka then kick and manhandle him when he is catatonic.

Have Asuka force feed him to the point where he pukes whilst he is still grieving the death of his friend. 

Have Shinji only be escorted whilst tied to a stretcher despite him coming voluntarily.

Have Misato place Shinji in 24/7 solitary confinement in a cell rigged with explosives.

Have Misato tell the WILLE crew to shoot Shinji on sight if they think he's getting into an EVA.

Have people tell Shinji that he's being a brat the entire time for reacting badly to all this.

By having Misato, Asuka, WILLE reject and "punish" Shinji so harshly so it kicks off his isolation and desperation, it makes Shinji's "recovery" seem less believable. Anno himself didn't even know how to make Shinji recover psychologically in 3.0+1.0 and he actually had to ask the voice actors on how to make that happen. The story made the WILLE crew go full scorched-earth and in doing so made Shinji's "growth" and his reconciliation with Misato seem impossible. 

I have already stated that I believe Q represents "Condemnation" and Shin represents "Compassion" and I think both films pull that off brilliantly. But that doesn't mean I think the characters acted in a realistic manner. I do not believe that Misato would have placed such harsh sanctions on Shinji in the first place for the reasons I have stated above. And if she did, I do not believe that Shinji would have easily forgiven Misato (even IF she took a bullet for him) as we see he does in the film. I do not believe that WILLE were merely "scared and desperate" because as the dialogue above shows, they are surprisingly understanding (but still disapproving) of Shinji's situation despite him literally starting another impact. I do not believe that Misato would have bent over to Sakura and Midori's resentment and taken measures against Shinji, just to ease their minds. 

In summary, my main problem with the post-timeskip rebuilds is that I feel they gaslight the audience in thinking that Shinji was just being a "brat" the entire time by having Asuka and Mari say: "You have grown a little/You smell like an adult now." However, the truth is Shinji's been through so much mental suffering perpetrated by the people he cares about, that it's a miracle he's not killed himself. It would certainly break most of us on this forum. The movies seek to show Shinji "finally" taking responsibility when the truth is, the plot went so above and beyond putting him down in such an extreme manner in the first place.

#evangelion #nge #nte #rebuild of evangelion #evangelion 3.0 you can (not) redo #evangelion 3.33 #evangelion 3.0+1.0 #misato katsuragi #shinji ikari #asuka langley shikinami #mari makinami illustrious #ritsuko akagi #3+1 spoilers #spoilers

[justreadingfics]

It’s a Deal (Chapter 3)

Chapter Summary: You have a reason to celebrate and need a partner to do that.  

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 6.2k

Warnings:+18 only, smut, sex in a public place, boytoy!Bucky, casual sex, opened relationship, drinking, sorority.

A/N: Here’s one more filthy chapter for you guys. It won’t always be that way since the plot moves forward, but it will still be focused on smut for the next couple of chapters. Our reader deserves some fun before things get a bit more complicated, right? The link to my masterlist, where you can find the other chapters, is on my description. Feedback is highly appreciated. Tag list for this story is closed.  

Screen after screen pops in the air in front of you as you furiously type codes and formulas on them. You’re there, you’re almost there. You’ve been working on this project for months and now it finally seems like you’re getting somewhere.

“Coffee?”

You just nod as an answer to Camilla, your partner on that project. She gets up and walks out to go get the coffee. She already told you if it was up to her, you’ve already given up. But you know you’re getting there. You haven’t stopped working ever since early hours and you’re feeling inspired and focused as ever.

When you’re satisfied with the input you add to the system which is working on the calculations, you sit back. Eyes on the screen displayed in the air. Camilla comes back with your coffees and hands one to you, fixing her eyes on the screen, too as she stands beside you.

“Come on, come on,” you whisper.

Bringing the coffee to your lips you almost choke on it when the answer you were so desperately looking for gleams on the screen.

“Holy shitballs,” you shout and swiftly gets up, letting your cup drop to the floor, splashing the liquid around.

“Oh, fuck,” Camilla gasps and you two look at each other with paired up widened eyes before letting out a cheerful scream and holding each other, jumping around as you gain the attention of the other workers from the several small offices of the Avengers/Stark Technology Department.

A clear of throat takes you and your friend out of your reverie, catching your attention. When you see Sharon Carter on your door, with a smirk on her lips, you two cease the celebration, but keep the smiles on your faces.

“Hey, Sh- Director,” you quickly correct yourself, being friends with Natasha brought you close to Sharon, too. But now she’s Director of Shield, after Nick Fury became coordinator of the Avengers, therefore you should show some respect at least at workplaces, “Remember that Shield and Avengers’ joined project? The one where we were trying to build a device that would crack alien secret services codes?”

“Yeah, sure, our tech departments have been working for months to find an algorithm.” Sharon nods.

“Well, looks like we made it.” You point at the screen right in front of you.

“What the hell?” She shoots an eyebrow high and steps into the office, eyes analyzing the screen between you two.

“We doesn’t quite cut it, Director,” Camilla says, rolling her eyes, “She worked her ass off and got to it by herself. She’s been killing it these last few days.”

You huff, shaking your head. You’ve been really inspired, indeed. And you might relate it to a certain physical activity you’ve been engaging on recently and the outrageous amount of energizing orgasms you’ve been gifted with almost daily… not a topic to be brought out now, though.  

“Ooo, someone seems extra inspired…” Sharon narrows her eyes, but you try to not indulge any possible insinuation by just ignoring the comment with a smile, “Well, that’s amazing news,” she resumes, clapping her hands once, “and it kind of leads to the subject that brought me here, would you mind excuses for a second, Camilla?” She kindly asks.

“Of course, not. I’ll be in my office.” Camilla says, not holding back from hugging you and squirming in excitement one more time before walking out the room.

“This is huge, huh?” Sharon comments, pulling up the chair you pointed for her as you sit on yours.  

“It is, can you imagine what Natasha will be able to do with it?” You grin, brushing your hands together.

“Thanks to your badass brain,” she compliments before narrowing her eyes at you again, “You have a weird happy face.”

“Well, something amazing just happened…”

“Yeah, yeah…” Sharon brushes you off, “You’re killing it at your job and that’s amazing… but to be honest, I expected to still see you moping around about your break up.”

“I’m still sad about it, but work has been great, and-”

“Oh, cut the crap,” Sharon interrupts with a playful snap and you frown while she crosses her arms in front of her, holding back a laugh, “I’ve been texting with Natasha, I know about you and your boytoy.”

“What the hell?” Your eyes widen as you throw your arms to the air, already feeling your cheeks warming, “She’s on a mission and you two have been talking about my… sex life?” You lean over across the table and whisper the last part.

“We can multitask,” Sharon shrugs like it’s no big deal.

“Oh, wow…” you scoff, “That’s two of the greatest spies on earth right.”

“Alright,” She chuckles, unfolding her arms and leaning over the table, “As much as I want to know all about it, that’s not why I’m here.”

“Ok,” you quickly accept the change of subject for your own relief, “Why are you here for, then?”

“To tell you that Stark is a jerk,” she deadpans.

“Ok… cool,” you drag the words, side eyeing her, “And?”

“Long story short, I lost you in a chess match and now you’re the new leader of Avengers/Stark Tech Department.”

You don’t quite assimilate what she just said as you keep your questioning stare on her, not finding the link between her words and, most of all, did she just say you’ve been promoted?

“I’m sorry, what?” You shake your head shutting your eyes for a second, finally asking for clarification after what seemed like the longest staring contest ever.

“Well,” Sharon sighs, “You know how competitive Stark and I can be and when I decided to act by ethics and told him I was considering offering you the leadership position at Shield’s tech department he decided he would do the same and dared me to a chess match, where you would be the prize.” She shrugs, “I’m sure he had some help, right Friday,” she raises her voice staring up to the air but gains plain silence as a response from the A.I, “He won and got to keep you and I got  stuck with my second option which is your ex, as you might already know.”

“Wow,” you whisper, not really sure what to say or feel, trying to process all of what you just heard.

“You’re not offended by the chess match, are you?” Sharon checks, tilting her head.

“No… I’m kinda… flattered, I guess.” You frown and Sharon gives you a satisfied smile. “But… I’m confused… That’s Stark’s job.”

“It’s your job now if you should accept it.” She grins wider, “I guess he’s been thinking about it for a while now and saw my offering as an opportunity. I know Pepper has been on his ass for him to loosen up from some responsibilities, and who better than you to take over?” She points up at the screen with your recent achievement.

You let out a breathy laugh, reality finally dawning. Not in a million years you thought that would happen but now that it is, you’re not gonna be modest, you kick ass in your job and you fucking deserve it.

“He’s on a mission with Nat and Steve now, so he asked me to come talk to you, hang on…” Sharon holdsup a finger, before grabbing a small device from her pocket, which you recognize as one of your projects. “Stark,” she says.

In a second the image of a very battered Tony surfaces on the air as the camera captures his face from under the suit.  

“Hey, Carter,” he greets with a smirk as you hear the sounds of blasts, shots and explosions. The man is in the middle of a damn battle while casually answering a call.  

“Stark,” Sharon answers just as casually, “I have her here with me, just delivered the news,” she says, turning his image to you.

“Hey, boss,” you give him a shy wave.

“Hey, kid.” He scrunches up his face, shooting a series of blasts before you listen to something exploding. “I think you’re sort of my boss now.” He focuses on you again, smirking.

“No, I’m not,” you laugh.

“No, you’re not. But, tell me, what’s your answer?”

“I take it, of course.” You decide, why in the world, wouldn’t you.

“Great. Party to celebrate when we come back. Gotta go, these damn Kree are the worst. Will not invite them.” He turns off and his image disappears from before you.

“Well, congratulations.” Sharon places the device back on her pocket, “Our departments work a lot together, so I think I win either way.”

A mix of emotions fill up your chest. You’re excited and happy and scared. Mostly excited, though…  “Holy shit,” you curse, digging your hands into your hair as a grin seems to twist your lips permanently.

“You need to celebrate…” Sharon adds, offering you a cheeky grin.

Fuck yeah, you need to celebrate. And you know exactly what, or better, who you wanna do.

~~~

“How the hell are you wet already?”

The words are spoken against your neck through licks and sucks, after Bucky’s fingers glided under your underwear and sank between your slick folds. As soon as he walked into your living room, he jumped on you with kisses and grabs, discovering you in such a state without his previous help.

Well, sort of without his help, actually. The thing is, after you got out of work that afternoon, you didn’t even need to call him or text him to propose your little celebration as you found a series of texts from “Bucky Sweet Tongue Barnes”  waiting for you. In the first, he was asking if you had any plans that night, and the others… oh, the others… the fucker described all sorts of filthy things he wanted to do with you.

After a quick answer for him to come over and a long bath, all the dirty details he used on his texts refused to leave your mind and you couldn’t help but spending the rest of the time you had alone before he arrived teasing yourself with your fingers, having all those images and flashes from your last encounters in your memory to keep you going.

“I-“ you gasp as he sucks that sensitive spot in your neck and his fingers meet your clit, “Those texts you sent me…” You tilt your head to give his lips more room, your hands roaming around the hard pattern of muscles on his back, “I-I’ve been touching myself.” You confess with the lack of pudency you’re becoming familiar with when you’re around him.

In your arms, you feel when his body freezes for a second, before he sucks harder on your neck, “Fuck… did you come today already?” He gropes your ass under your dress with the hand that isn’t in your pussy. 

Your eyelids flutter and you reach down to the front of his pants to feel the growing bulge, “Yes…”

“Goddammit, that’s hot,” he grunts, and then it all happens in a blur as he lifts you by hooking his hands under your thighs and places you seated over the dinner table.

He positions himself between your opened legs as lifting up your short dress out of his way and, while you swiftly work on the buttons and zipper of his jeans, he takes a condom out of his pockets and, after ripping the plastic off with his teeth he hands it to you.

His eyes cast down to see your fingers rolling off the latex around his rock hard cock and, as soon as you’re done and wrap your hand around him to feel his thickness, he wastes no time and pushes you backwards until your back meets the cold wood of your table. 

Acting by the frenzy that is all over his eyes, he swiftly pulls the small fabric of your underwear to the side, exposing your cunt just enough before he holds his cock and pushes himself inside you, making you cry out and your body jerk backwards. You always knew spending an exorbitant amount of money on a good table would pay off someday and you hold yourself fisting each side of the table.

He pulls your thighs up wrapping his hands on your knees, giving you no time to adjust before starting to pound into you.

You love that he fucks you like that. Hard and raw, the sting of the stretching mixed with the pleasure brought by his expert thrusts fogging your mind and his thickness and expert moves hitting sweet spots of yours, kicking the air out of your lungs. You love that in the few times you’ve been doing it in the last week, he already seems to know what you can take and always somehow goes a little further, a little different… like he knows something about yourself that you don’t, yet. That it’s the first time that you two can’t be bothered to wait and take off clothes or get to the bedroom. You love it.

It is all new to you, yes. For you sex has always been attached to some kind of affection or romantic feelings and, while that is all good and wonderful, you’re enjoying so much finding out this other side, where the only goals are to share pleasure and have fun. 

“So fucking sexy,” he groans through clenched teeth.

Your core twists in response and your cunt clenches around his cock, causing him to let out a grunt and quicken his pace even more, making it extra difficult to breathe properly. Oh, he’s found out that praise kink of yours and now he’s been using it wisely, so wisely…

He reaches over to pull down the stripe of your dress and exposes one breast. A loud moan slips out of you when he roughly kneads the soft flesh. He keeps the metal hand around one of your knees while the leg he let go in favor to give your breast some attention curls around his hips, jerking along with the punishing pace of his thrusts.

“Yeah, sweetheart, so sexy… I’ve wanted to have you like this ever since I first saw that sweet ass of yours,” he confesses right before leaning over to wrap his mouth around your nipple.

You’ve been horny the whole day waiting for the moment you would have his cock inside you just like that and the praise, as tacky as it may be, joined with the warmth of his wet tongue around your breast and the stimulation against your clit that the new position brings prompt the blast of ecstasy inside your core.

With a trembling moan, you let go the edges of the table to hold his body pressed to yours as his mouth moves from your breast to attack your neck. You roll your hips, trying to prolong the pleasure unleashed as his pace falters.

The fingers of both his hands dig into your hair, making a mess of it as he pulls out his cock almost completely before shoving it deeply and harshly one more time, grunting out his own release.  

“Fuck,” it slips from under his heavy breath before he clasps his lips on yours. The kiss is wet and sloppy and lazy as you have your legs and arms curled around his body, keeping him inside you.

Still feeling a little numb from the orgasm he just gave you – a thousand times better than the one you had given yourself- you gasp and chuckle through the kiss as he straightens up and pulls you with him. You tighten the hold of your arms and legs, as he conveniently holds you by your ass until he finds the couch and sits down with you straddling his hips. He breaks the kiss and lets his head fall on the backrest, his chest moving up and down as he tries to catch his breath.

You move up to let his cock slide off but he tightens the hold on your ass, keeping you in place, “Just… let me stay in a bit more, it feels so good,” he says, eyes shut, still resting his head back on the sofa.

“Alright,” you chuckle, straddling his face with your arms as you place your hands on the backrest. You find the request a bit odd but also sexy as hell. There he is, always a step ahead on what you don’t even know you think it’s hot…   

After a few more seconds, when his breath – and yours- seems to come back to normal, he straightens his head and looks down at where you still have just one breast exposed. He ticks his tongue, “Let’s not make the other one feel left out.” He pulls your other strap, letting now both of your breasts bare to him before he dips in, grabbing the up till now covered one with his lips.

You shake your head, laughing at his antics, “You seem pretty fond of them, huh?”

He lets go of the mound with a pop, looking up at you with an almost shocked expression on his face, “How could I not?” he gasps, like you’ve just offended him, “I don’t know how you see them in the mirror everyday and don’t touch yourself…” he squints at you before continuing, “You do, don’t you?”

You laugh harder, letting your head fall back and he smiles at you before going back to give your tits some attention, kissing and sucking one, then the other. Noticing that his cock never really softens completely inside you, you let him enjoy himself a bit more before speaking again, “Did you mean that?”

“What?” He leans back, looking up at you.

“You said you wanted to fuck me ever since you met me… is that serious? I didn’t even know you remembered me before we… started this.”

“First of all, I’m always serious, I never lie,” he says, adding some gravity to his tone, “Second of all, remember that night a while ago, when I chatted with you and your boyfriend at a Stark’s party and then your sexy ass talked about your work with technology with such passion… you knew exactly what you were talking about and, fuck…” he licks his lips, ”I rubbed one out for you later that night,” he smirks, clasping his hands behind his head.

Your jaw drops at the reveal before your face scrunches up, “That’s…gross?” you say the first word that comes to mind.

“But it’s true,” he shrugs, looking pretty comfortable with the confession, “and ever since I’ve been thinking about tapping that smart ass of yours.” He emphasizes his point by slapping your ass once.

Despite that and his choice of words - which makes your cheeks heat up - and your previous statement of being grossed out by the revelation, you decide you take that as kind of a compliment, which leads you to give him the news.

“You know?” you say, “I was promoted today. You just fucked the new leader of the Avengers/Stark tech department,” you grin when his practically hard cock twitches inside you.

“Wow, congratulations.” His eyes widen and he grins back at you. 

“Never thought I would meet someone with a technology kink,” you comment, laughing at his first reaction to the news.

“More of a smart as fuck brain kink, sweetheart,” he reaches behind you to slap your ass for the second time that night, making you shriek and laugh a bit harder, “Ok, we need to celebrate,” he states.

“I am celebrating,” you aim a mischievous smile at him, rolling your hips for good measure.

“Damn,” he breathes, but holds your hips still, “No, I mean, you’ve been in a relationship for ten years, tell me…” he squints at you, “When was the last time you partied your ass off?”

“Ahm…” you think hard trying to remember when it was, “College, I guess?”

“Shit…” he lowers his head before swiftly getting up, making you lunge your arms on his shoulders so you wouldn’t fall back as he walks to your bedroom, “Come on, let’s freshen up. This is huge news… I’ll take you to a real party now and then we can continue our private one later,” he promises.

~~~

As soon as you walk in the rooftop bar Bucky has chosen, you already decide you did good in accepting his offer. The place is gorgeous, sporting a modern, yet cozy decoration with small tables, sofas and puffs for those who want to sit. Dazzling lights flash on the dance floor right by a huge bar and the view of the city is mesmerizing while the beat of the music reverberates through your body.

Bucky pulls you by the hand through the sea of bodies. Thank god you chose one of the fanciest dresses of your wardrobe or else you wouldn’t fit in among the beautiful people crowding the place. Every once in a while, Bucky waves and nods at someone or a group of people. You can tell he’s a regular.  

He waves more excitedly to a group of women hanging on a mezzanine, before pulling you to that direction, “Come on,” he tilts his head back towards you with a smile, “You’ll love them.”

As soon as you approach the group, he puts his arm around your shoulders and introduces you to everyone, telling you the names of each stunning woman before you, Amanda, Emma, Jada, Alice and Brianna. They all friendly greet him and you with smiles, excited hellos and hugs, welcoming you two to join them, which you do.

“You know, Y/N was promoted today,” Bucky gushes and you smile at him.

“Oh, wow,” Amanda says through the cheerful congratulating words from everyone else, “This calls for champagne.” She then whistles and makes a sign for a bartender, who in a matter of seconds sends two bottles of fancy champagne to the group. 

A few minutes after the toast, you’re drinking and chatting with those women like you’ve been best friends your whole life, especially with Amanda, who goes out of her way to make you feel included. You can see how close they all are to Bucky, like he’s one of the gang, talking about any kind of subject in front of him and vice versa. Bucky stays by your side, and only when you’re completely mingled with the group he excuses himself to go grab what he called “a real drink” at the bar.

“He’s incredible, isn’t he?” Amanda nudges you when Bucky is at a distance he can’t hear.

“Oh yeah,” you nod, “Bucky’s a great guy.”

“She means in bed, dear,” Brianna clarifies with a giggle.

You take a look around the group to see them all giving you mischievous and knowing stares. Oh…

“Oh, did all of you…?” you point your finger at them, but you don’t have to complete the question

“More like all of this rooftop,” Brianna laughs, followed shortly by the others.  

“So, he’s amazing isn’t he?” Amanda insists, wiggling her eyebrows.

You’re not sure if it’s the alcohol or the fact that they all seem so friendly and open minded, but something makes you blurt out, “Amazing? He’s fucking fantastic.”

They all nod and verbalize their agreement, “I tell you all something,” Jada catches your attention, “That man drinks respect women juice daily and we owe him a toast. Here’s to Bucky,” she raises her glass.

“To Bucky.” You all mimic her through laughing and make a toast to the unsuspicious man at the bar.

As the conversation moves on and they all engage in different topics your gaze wanders to where he stands, holding a glass with some liquor that looks like whiskey in hands. But he’s not alone anymore. A statuesque blond is right beside him, laughing and touching his arm. You glimpse that flirting smile of him forming on his lips.

“You don’t mind do you?” Amanda’s voice makes you turn to her, spotting a questioning look on her face, “Because if you do… Girl, run away now, Bucky isn’t right for you.” There’s no malice on her voice, just a sincere warning tone.

You seize the moment to make an honest survey through your feelings. You’ve been warned by different people, Bucky included, and if there’s anything to worry about, Amanda is right, you should run now. As you keep your eyes on the two of them by the bar, you look and look and look inside, but find nothing that could be remotely taken as jealousy or something like that. If anything, it’s kind of liberating to know that you have so much fun with him and there’s no ugly, selfish feelings pulling you back. You feel like you could encourage the blonde on the flirting, because you know how damn incredible it can be…

Who would wonder that a class A womanizer like Bucky would be the source of such sheer sorority you’ve been experiencing that night…

“No,” you turn back to Amanda, shaking your head with a satisfied smile, “I don’t mind at all.”

The night goes on and Bucky comes and goes, chatting and drinking and laughing with you and your new little group of friends, taking you to dance, but also dancing with Amanda, Emma, Alice, Jada, Brianna and some others… A number of guys also approach you, take you to dance, buy you drinks and you end up with a few new phone numbers in your contact list. You party like you haven’t in a while and like you didn’t think women your age still did, which is stupid… You’ve been so caught up in the routine of your relationship with Eddie that you’ve forgotten there’s a whole world spinning out there.

An exciting and fun world.

“Hey,” the familiar voice reaches your ear and makes you smile as you’re on the dance floor with the girls. The metal hand curls around your belly and pulls you before your back brushes against his chest, “Having fun?” Bucky asks, lips on your ears.

“Yes, so much.” You tilt your head and place your hands over his while his hips sway with yours.

“Hummm,” he pulls you closer and runs the tip of his nose over the length of your neck, “I’m glad.”

“However…” you sigh, loving how his hips move in rhythm with yours, “I think I’m ready to continue our other party at home.”

“Funny,” he chuckles and his tongue darts out before he swiftly brushes it against your neck. It’s quick and very discreet, but enough to set your core into flames, “I was thinking the exact same thing.”

With that, you promptly let go of him and proceed to say goodbye to the girls. They all tell their farewells and wishes to see you again soon with knowing and excited looks.

~~~

“You were right, I had so much fun.” You wrap an arm around his elbow as you walk side by side through the streets of New York. The bar isn’t that far from your condo and when he suggested a walk back home you thought it was a good idea to check on the lively corners of the city, even with the heels. Also, he offered his leather jacket against the cold, which you promptly accepted.

“Oh, yeah, nightlife in New York nowadays is something we shouldn’t take for granted,” he smiles down at you, “And yeah, you had fun alright, I know there are a few extra numbers in your phone,” he winks.

You analyze his face and when you understand there’s nothing but playful teasing behind it, you answer, “Oh, yeah, oh my God,” you shake your head, “That was unexpected but fun. I might delete them all, though, things might get complicated and I’m not looking for any kind of complications right now.”

He smiles, seemingly satisfied for you taking him out of the complicated category. “You and the girls seemed to get along real fine, too,” he comments.   

“They’re really great,” you nod, getting cozier in his arm as a gust of wind hits you, “They all think very highly of you, by the way,” you let the smirk in your lips tell him what you mean.

“I work hard for that, sweetheart.” He chuckles and wiggles his eyebrows at you.

You let out a laugh, “That you do.” You look up at him from under your lashes, before whispering, “I can’t wait to see you working hard.”

He halts his pace, making you abruptly stop with him. You shoot him a questioning look, as he gazes down at you, his face lightening up like the best of ideas has just crossed his mind. Without further notice he unwraps his arm from yours and takes your hand instead, pulling you with him at a faster pace as he turns on the corner, changing the course that would lead to your home.

“Hey,” you call out, as you try not to trip on your heels as he pulls you, deflecting from the other patrons and leading the way, “What the hell are you doing?”

He looks back at you with that sinful smile of his, “Don’t wanna leave you waiting.”

Something flips inside your stomach in anticipation at his statement and, as he turns around a few corners, the streets seem to get less busy. When you reach a particular spot, he checks each side, like surveying the area before pulling you to a dark alleyway you haven’t even seen before.

As soon as you out of the street he pins you against the wall and crashes his lips on yours, shoving his leg between yours to keep you in place with the help of the firm grip of his metal hand on your hips.

Like a puppet on his strings you wrap your arms around his neck and respond to the inebriant kiss immediately even if you’re still astonished by it all and when he squeezes one of your tits through the fabric of your dress and his mouth leaves your mouth to drag kisses over your neck, you tilt your head to see the light peeking from the streets, so close to where you’re both standing. 

“Bucky…” a gasp swallows your words for a second as he presses his thigh harder against your pussy, “What the hell, someone can see us,” you remind him, knowing exactly where this will lead if you don’t stop him now. You can already feel the pool of heat in your lower body as he playfully nibbles on your lower lip before going back to your neck.

“Isn’t it exciting, to think someone can spot us while I have my dick inside you.” He licks a long stripe from your neck to behind your ear.

The mention of his dick makes you let out a wanton moan, but you’re not won over yet, “It’s a fucking dark alley in the middle of the night in New York City, Bucky. We will be murdered here.”

At this, all of his enticing movements pause, and he dips his head back with an offended glare at you, “Do I have to remind you who you’re literally fucking with?” he asks, outrage all over his voice, “The Winter Fucking Soldier, White Wolf and shit… the strongest Avenger,” he chant the names and you can’t help but chuckle a bit, “Don’t worry,” leans over to resume from where he stopped, “I can fuck you and protect you at the same time.”

You need no more convincing since that’s actually damn hot and you’re more than sold to the exciting game when he flips you over and kneels down behind you. Listening to your own erratic heartbeats prompted by the electrifying danger of it all, you sprawl your hands on the wall as he sinks his hands under your dress and pulls your underwear down your legs, placing it in his pocket once you step out of it.

He bunches your dress up high enough to give him room and you shudder and sucks in a breath as he props one kiss, then another on the back of each of your thighs, “Try to be quiet…” he says, but swiftly adds, “Not too quiet, though, I love to hear you.”

With that he spreads your legs a little farther and sinks his tongue into the apex of your thighs from behind.  Your jaw drops and your knees buckle as he holds your hips still against his face. While his tongue curls around your sensitive pussy your mind blanks and you whimper, trying to suppress a moan, not forgetting you’re right in the open air of New York. Your hips roll against his face, seeking for more friction to untie the knot forming inside you.

But too soon he ceases contact and stands up. You express your disappointment with a whine, face snapping to glare at him behind you.

He’s wearing a smirk on his face as he grabs another condom from his pocket. You wonder how many he has in stash, “You wanted to come on my mouth, didn’t you?” he teases, holding the package between his teeth as he unbuckles his pants.

“Of course,” you shamelessly admit under your breath.

“I know sweetheart… But my dick is aching for you, too,” letting his pants and boxes fall along his legs, he unleashes his hard cock and proceeds on putting on the condom, throwing the plastic package aside, “I was prepping you for it,” he continues, eyes fastened on yours as he speaks, “You want it, don’t you? You want my dick? Come all over it?”

You lick your lips and your gaze falls to look at his rock hard cock, feeling your wetness dripping down your inner thighs. Now that’s an offer you can’t refuse, “Yes, I wanna soak that fucking dick,” you groan, not caring how tacky all the dirty talk may be, since it all sounds sexy as fuck now, clouding all of your senses.

“Shit… take it then, sweetheart.” Guiding his cock with his hand, he pulls your hips and in one single shove he’s inside you.

You let out a silent cry and rest your cheek on your hand against the wall, as the other reaches down to your clit, to help ease down the sumptuous twists inside your core as he pounds into you.  

The sounds and lights of the cars passing by on the street right next to you reminds you how exposed you are and fuck if you’re not gonna come quicker than you ever did as Bucky holds your hips with both of his hands, moving them as fast as he pleases, thrusting them back against his cock. You can feel the fire reaching its peak inside you.

“So fucking wet,” he whispers, breathing hard as he fucks any remaining signs of better judgement out of you and you know it won’t be long for him, either.

You let out a loud moan and it prompts him to pull you pressed against his chest and cover your mouth with his hand, “Shhh.” His hot breath coats your ear and your head falls back on his shoulder as he keeps the delicious pounding of his cock inside you with no hint of mercy.

The damn alley spins around you and you wish you weren’t wearing his leather jacket now as the beads of sweat run down your forehead.

He must’ve heard something in advance because right at that moment a group of people walk by the sidewalk, chatting and laughing. All they have to do is to glance to the side and spot you two in that interesting situation. The danger, the fact that you’re so exposed while Bucky dicks you down against the wall out in the open triggers your orgasm and you let out a strangled sound, muffed by his hand, as the shocks of pleasure washes over your body and weakens your limbs.  

“Shit,” Bucky whispers against your cheeks and his cock pulses inside you, reacting to your cunt squeezing and soaking his cock as you reach your climax.

You wanna feel that again and acting under the influence of a rush of boldness, you reach behind between the two of you and gently massages his bouncing balls. You feel the pulsating of his cock between your walls again and that cheeky move of yours makes him come undone. You only wish that the group is far enough to not hear the reckless and loud moan that slips out of his lips against your ear, his whole body tensing against yours.

As you fight to catch your breath and his hand leaves your mouth to descend to one of your breasts, a long line of courses is recited in your ear before you can feel his body finally relaxing.

Your eyes flutter shut when you sense the brush of his lips on your neck. The next words he breathes against your heated skin makes you beam, loving that he says that while his cock is still buried deep into you, like a damn reward.  

“Congratulations on your promotion, sweetheart.”

~~~

Tag List for this story: CLOSED

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#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes series #bucky smut #smut #floof #it's a deal

[dracothedeatheatingcupcake-ao3]

Random IshiMondo Story Prompt Response

Hi guys!!! So! This!!! Uh… the short of it is that a few months ago, I got an ask about an AU where Taka (who in this AU is the son of a police chief) gets kidnapped by the Crazy Diamonds as a present for Mondo’s 21st birthday. Taka was taken a month before and has been beaten, bound, and starved, and is all around unhappy and in a bad place. He feels that he deserves it. When Mondo is presented with Taka, however, he gets freaked and goes to “interrogate” Taka and they talk, it’s cute, and all ends well.

When I first got the request, I was very uncertain if I could fulfill this request, since I’m not a big fan of torture fics and this was just… it had big torture feels to me. However, I got an idea for it and I posted about it. The person who originally sent me the ask asked to see my idea, and I began writing it out. I thought it would be short, just a quick detail of the idea, but… well. Y’all know me. I don’t know what the word “short” means. So… uh, here’s a 25k word write up of the idea. It’s not quite a fic, since there’s very little actual dialogue in quotes, but it goes entirely through the story, with details and things like that, so… I guess it’s kind of a fic in its own right??? I legit don’t know, ha. I just wrote it and I feel so bad for taking so long without replying to that anon. So, if you’re still here anon, this one’s for you! And if not, then I hope other people like it too. I made a few changes to the initial request that I mention in the story, such as it being Mondo’s 20th birthday, not his 21st, and Taka only being taken for a couple of days, not a month.

Anyway! I hope y’all enjoy! :-D I’m excited to finally post this! It was collecting dust in my notes for AGES before I got around to finishing it. And I like how it turned out! It’s not perfect, but it’s something. And it’s prolly the fluffiest thing I’ve written, which is ironic considering the prompt, ha.

(Also, the anon asked for the fic to not be super mature, so I censored Mondo's curses. I couldn't NOT have Mondo curse, but I could censor them. So that's why it's like that, ha.)

(Read more added to not completely break your dashboard, ha.)

~~~~~

The fic starts with Mondo’s POV. It’s late afternoon slash early evening the day of his birthday. Mondo is in a bit of a funk, since he is turning 20 (not 21, since in Japan the 21st birthday isn’t really anything special. 20, however, is super important as it is the day they come of age and are allowed to legally drink) and is now legally an adult, and yet he is still leading his gang. Many of the original members have left, including Michi, and many others are getting too old to really stay in a biker gang for too much longer, and he doesn’t quite know where he fits anymore. However, he doesn’t know what else he could do. He’s a biker, so it’s not like he has much of an education or job experience other than being a biker… not to mention that Daiya’s dying wish was for him to keep the gang together and running, and he’s not sure when it’s “okay” for him to stop doing that. It all is eating at him, and he is very anxious over the idea of his future. He’s drinking a bit but isn’t quite drunk. He knows his gang is planning a party for him in an hour, though, which he is looking forward to. His gang is the closest thing to a family he has, so he is glad they care enough about him to want to throw him a party. He also knows that they have a surprise for him, which they said would help cure him of his blues, which of course they’ve noticed since Mondo is the least subtle person outside of Taka.

Eventually Mondo gets a call from his gang to head to their main hideout, so he heads out on his motorcycle, kind of excited to see what they have in store for him.

~

The POV then switches to Taka. Taka is bound, blindfolded (bag over his head), and gagged in a small, cold, smelly room. He is dehydrated and is very hungry and has no idea what time it is. It gets revealed that Taka was jumped two days prior (not a month, since I just… could not do that to Taka, sorry. Also, I’m fairly certain Takaaki would move heaven and earth to find his missing son, so… yeah) and was beaten pretty badly as he was walking home. He has a broken nose, bruised, possibly broken ribs, a black eye, and a small cut along his throat (from when he was kidnapped and he tried to escape, so the gang put a knife under his throat). He also has rope burns on his wrists from where the rope has dug into them. All in all, not fun, but nothing permanent and nothing that won’t heal. He has a small mat to sleep on, which he is thankful for, but he doesn’t know much about what is in his room, since he can’t see it.

Taka had not gotten a good look at his assailants when he was taken, so he has no idea they are The Crazy Diamonds, or even that they are a motorcycle gang (I imagine they’d use a van when kidnapping someone? I don’t know, ha), and he figures it’s probably someone who objects to his grandfather and thinks that he probably deserves what is happening to him. He has hope that he will be let go, but part of him fears that he will not.

Taka’s thoughts get interrupted when some gangsters enter his small room, grabbing him and manhandling him. This is not unusual, since they have been allowing him to use the toilet every so often, so he’s not super confused at first. However, he gets concerned when they don’t take him out of the room and instead start stripping him. Taka gets super freaked out and tries to fight them off, but he’s so weak and beaten down that he barely budges them at all. They laugh at him and tell him that they’re just changing him out of his dirty clothes, since he’s hardly presentable as is. Taka reluctantly stops fighting— partially since he doesn’t like how disgusting he currently is, partially because he realizes how futile it is— and is a bit surprised to find they do exactly as they say. They don’t change his underwear, to his private relief, but they put him into some other outfit that is very different from his usual white suit and tie. It’s a soft t-shirt that dips low on his chest and a pair of tight jeans. It isn’t really comfortable, but it is better than being in his ruined suit, he guesses. The gangsters leave then, laughing and joking about the party, but Taka doesn’t understand what they mean. As Taka is left alone, he is again left to wonder if he’ll be allowed to leave soon. Or ever…

~

The POV switches back to Mondo. He is sitting in his hideout, drinking a beer, smirking as his gang tells stories about Mondo’s greatest achievements. It feels bittersweet to him, though, with the doubts and everything he’s been having. He tries to get into it, but he knows that the gang knows he’s not really feeling it. After a little while, the stories trail off and Mondo’s new second in command (a young upstart OC who Mondo has been personally training, kind of like how Daiya trained him) brings up the surprise they have for Mondo, the gang getting excited about it. Mondo finds his curiosity piqued and tells them to get on with it. Excited, a few gangsters leave to grab their ‘surprise,’ while Mondo stays behind, wondering about it.

~

Taka gets jolted out of a light doze when the door bursts open and the gang members burst in, grabbing him roughly. Taka goes along placidly, thinking they are probably taking him to the bathroom again, or something like that. However, he notices that they are taking him down a different path than they usually do, which makes his fear spike, wondering what they are going to do to him now. His ribs and other injuries are hurting a lot, but he does his best to not make a sound, not wanting to get hurt anymore.

Eventually he is led through a door and is assaulted by noise, loud voices jeering at him and boisterous laughter, which freaks him out even more. He begins to struggle then, unable to help it, but it is useless as the gangsters are so much stronger, especially with how weak Taka currently is. They just laugh at him and keep pulling him along.

Eventually they reach wherever it is they are taking him, as they throw him down onto the ground, his knees hitting the concrete harshly, jarring his ribs enough to make him let out his first noise of pain. It shames him, but he gets distracted when he hears a loud inhale of breath, followed by a loud and brash voice asking, “what the absolute f*ck is this sh*t?!”

This leads to a bit of stammering from the gangsters, one of them explaining that it’s supposed to be a present for him, but the person gets cut off by a dangerous sounding growl. The room goes silent, then, for a few moments. Then the same voice from earlier— the loud and brash one— demands they remove the bag over his head. Taka barely has a moment to comprehend what is going on before he is being assaulted by light, his eyes unable to handle it as he blinks, trying to get used to the abrupt change in light.

Once the spots in his vision clear, he is able to look ahead of him, where he had heard a quick inhale of breath a few moments before. He sees legs, dressed in loose black pants with white loafers on the person’s feet. He lifts his eyes a bit more and can make out a black leather duster with designs on it and a white tank top overtop a highly muscular chest. His eyes linger for a moment, before he looks up the rest of the way, eyes intent as they meet what Taka assumes must be the instigator of his capture, his heart racing with fear. And when his eyes meet wide lavender, the most beautiful color he has ever seen, well…

But such feelings are highly inappropriate and improper, given the circumstances, so he hastily pushes them away. For the most part…

Though he can’t escape the feeling that something about this man is oddly familiar to him...

~

Mondo looks down at the kid before him, his blood frozen and his mind completely blank. He can’t really comprehend what he is seeing. He knows that most members of his gang aren’t that bothered by violence, knows that he himself certainly isn’t, but something about seeing this young boy (whom he assumes can’t be older than 16, he looks so youthful even despite the dark bruises upon his face) so roughed up makes his insides squirm and anger rise within him. He does his best to curb it, though, knowing it would just make his gang doubt his ability to lead them if he gets uppity about things like this, but it’s hard. The boy’s face is so messed up he can’t quite tell who he is, but he has the niggling feeling that he is familiar, though he can’t quite put his finger on it.

Throughout his musing, Mondo has been staring at the boy, absently taking in his busted features. The boy’s eyes, however, hold his attention the most, though he tries to avoid them the best he can, hating how resigned and afraid they look. But he can’t quite help it, and when he looks back at the boy unbidden, he is shocked to see the kid looking directly at him, making him feel very strange inside. They continue to stare at one another for several long moments, until his second in command clears his throat awkwardly, forcing Mondo to look over at him, his anger rising again, though he fights against it. Again.

Mondo demands once more to know the meaning of this, and the second in command (SIC) explains quickly that it was a present, explaining that they had wanted to help Mondo feel ‘like himself again,’ so they had gotten him someone to help him remember what it’s like to be a big, bad, biker gang leader. The SIC pauses for a minute, clearly wanting to drive up the drama, before dramatically revealing that the boy is none other than Kiyotaka Ishimaru, the son of Chief Takaaki Ishimaru, the bothersome chief of police who has been on their tail for months now. The SIC explains hesitantly that Mondo had mentioned a couple weeks prior how he wanted to beat the punk up after seeing a picture of him and his father in the news, explaining that the gang had come up with the plan not long after, wanting to give their leader what he truly wanted.

It’s around then that Mondo realizes why the kid is so familiar looking, dread filling his stomach. He had come across a picture of the boy and his father in the paper a few weeks before, after the police chief had been given an honor or something for his bravery.

His eyes had lingered on the kid, though, tracing over his features in a way he knows means he was feeling interested. Mondo has known he was bi for years at that point, and though he rarely pursues men romantically or sexually, he has done it a couple times and he knows he definitely has interest in both men and women. His gang knows this and is fine with it, but it still sometimes embarrasses him to talk about it, especially when his eye is caught by someone who is decidedly not the type of person that a biker gang leader should ever look twice at, like that kid. So, when his gang had caught him staring at the picture for a bit too long, he had panicked and aggressively said that he was infuriated by the “goody-toe-shoe’s” pretentious look, saying he wanted nothing more than to beat the ever-loving sh*t out of the dude.

He hadn’t thought they’d actually do anything about it, though. He certainly hadn’t thought that they would, you know… kidnapthe dude. Who, he realizes, is actually older than he’d first thought, since he had recalled reading that the was home on break from university, the article saying he was 19. It makes him feel weird inside to think about, knowing that they aren’t that far off in age from one another.

However… however, as he sees the expectant looks on his gang’s faces, all of them expecting him to be happy about what they’ve done, he realizes that he’s kind of trapped. If he rejects their ‘gift’ and yells at them, then they will know he was lying when he said he wanted to beat up the kid. He also realizes that they’ve not really done anything against his rules. Well... kind of. Technically, given his position as son of the police chief, the boy is fair game for them to brutalize. After all, he’s not really an ‘innocent,’ now, is he? Mondo shouldn’t feel any problem about beating the kid, honestly, it’s not like he really knows him. And while he definitely doesn’twant to do that, for reasons he doesn’t understand, he knows that he probably should. The gang expects that he will and if he doesn’t... well.

So... he pushes down the vague nausea rising within him and forces a smirk on his face. He knows he isn’t the best liar, but he knows that the members of his gang aren’t exactly the smartest or most observant dudes, so he figures it’s fine. He then laughs and nods, saying how he recalls that now, thanking his gang for their thoughtfulness. He doesn’t (can’t) look at the kid as he says it, fearing what look he would have on his face.

Then... then Mondo asks if he could have some privacy to “talk with” the kid, smirking the whole while. Despite how he’s still not looking at him, he can see the kid shrink down in fear in the corner of his eye, making the twisting in his gut even worse. But he can’t stop, so he just keeps smirking as the gang cheers, happy that their ‘gift’ was well received.

Mondo has the same gangsters as before grab the boy and drag him to his private quarters at the hideout. They put the bag back on, to prevent him from being able to see their hideout, and while it makes Mondo distinctly uncomfortable— hating how it makes the boy thrash weakly, soft mewls of fear being released from his lips— he says nothing as he trails after them, fighting hard to keep the lazy smirk on his face. It’s hard, but he somehow manages.

As they all reach Mondo’s private quarters, Mondo has a moment to wonder what the f*ck is going to happen next.

~

Taka is terrified. Taka has been scared this entire time, but now the fear has reached its paramount, his heart racing so fast and angry in his chest. Something about the lavender eyed man has made him feel very afraid, especially once he realizes why, exactly, he knows him.

He is Mondo Owada, leader of the biggest biker gang in Japan, and he is definitely a man to be feared. He’s heard everything about him from his father, who has been very annoyed and angry at the biker gang for the vandalism and crime they get up to, and he knows that the man has a fearsome temper and a notorious desire for violence. And now he knows that he had been kidnapped by the gang to be a ‘present’ for their leader, which is a terrifying thought to Taka. He knows all about the kind of things cruel criminals will do to other people, having heard many horrific tales from his father. And while he does his best to not let his fear consume him, it’s hard not to. Especially considering how he is apparently being led to the leader’s private chambers, which he knows never means anything good. Best case, he will just be beaten harshly again. Worst case... well. Taka may be naïve, but even he isn’t thatnaïve. Unfortunately…

Eventually they come to a halt, though, and he hears the sound of a door opening. Taka somehow gets even more afraid, then, and begins thrashing again, more desperate than the last time, finally letting go of his pride enough to beg the gangsters to let him go. He can feel tears falling down his face, knows that his voice is wavering horribly, but he cannot stop it. He wants to go home. He misses his father, and his small room in his father’s run down but nicer than when he’d been a child apartment, and his nice clean suits, and... and all of it. He doesn’t know if he’s even intelligible or not, but he can do nothing to stop the words and the thrashing, even as his arms gets twisted painfully behind him.

Taka only stops when he hears a low growl before him, followed quickly by the feel of something brushing his side. He lets out a yelp of fear, terrified the leader will harm him, but... but the hand on his side doesn’t do anything other than rest there, softer than he expected, almost gentle. He can feel the tension in the hand, though, and something about it makes his heart race. From fear, of course...

The leader begins to talk then, warning him lowly to behave or things would get worse for him, and while it sounds angry and cruel on the surface, Taka... Taka can detect a hint of something else beneath the words. Something... worried. It confuses Taka, especially since he usually doesn’t pick up on things like that, but he decides to accept it at face value, too tried and weak to keep fighting anyway. With a defeated nod, he hunches his shoulders as he gets marched into the room without a word more, hating the snickers he hears sound behind him.

Taka gets thrown to the ground again, then, his knees really starting to hurt from the rough treatment, not to mention how awful his ribs feel. He doesn’t think his ribs are broken, but he can tell that they are at least badly bruised. And he knows worse is yet to come when he hears the leader tell his gang members to leave them alone and not hang around to listen, claiming he wants complete privacy. It makes him shake uncontrollably to hear, a soft keen escaping his lips without his consent. More snickers rise, but then he hears footsteps retreating from him, letting him know that at least there won’t be an audience for what is about to happen to him. He honestly doesn’t know if that is better or not.

The tears fall harder when he hears the door click shut, his body shaking with silent sobs. After a moment of silence, he hears more footsteps, these ones quieter than he would have expected, considering who he knows they belong to. He wants to start begging again, pleading that he just wants to go home, but his throat is so thick that he can’t seem to manage it. All he can do is cringe back to make himself as small as possible and hope to any god who is listening that he somehow makes it out of this somewhat intact. Please...

He flinches when he hears someone kneel down beside him, his breath growing shakier and more ragged, the tears streaming down his face uncomfortably under the bag that is still over his head. There is a beat of silence between them, and then-

“Hey. Uh... know y’ain’t got any reason ta believe me, but, uh... I ain’t gonna hurt ya, okay? Just... sh*t. F*ck... I’m gonna take the bag off yer head now, okay? Don’t f*ckin’ try an’ head butt me or anythin’... sh*t.”

The words are far softer than he had ever expected, causing some dissonance to rise within him as his expectation wars with reality. Part of him wants to believe the man before him, but... well. Taka is no fool.

Before he can try and rationalize anything, he feels the bag get tugged off his head, gentler this time than the last. He can feel his anxiety and fear spike when he feels cool air hit his face, but when he opens his eyes and looks ahead of him at the man before him, he feels his heart freeze when his eyes meet lavender.

He thinks about how they are still so incredibly beautiful, more so now that they are looking at him softly, concern and a simmering anger roiling within them. The anger makes him feel afraid, but part of him thinks that perhaps the anger isn’t directed at him. He knows the thought is foolish, but perhaps...

The man before him starts talking then, making a comment about how messed up his face looks. Taka flushes and looks away, feeling oddly ashamed, but he feels gentle fingers turn his face back, his eyes immediately landing on soft lavender again. He has no idea how to read the eyes before him, he’s never been good at reading other people’s emotions, but he... he doesn’t think it’s bad. Or... he hopes not...

After a beat of time, the man looks away, down towards his body. It makes him feel nervous again, but before it has a chance to turn into fear, the man is talking, saying that he’s going to cut the rope around his wrists, but that Taka has to promise him that he won’t try and fight him if he does. He says that he doesn’t want to hurt him, but that he can’t just let him cause a scene, and if Taka fights, he will be forced to fight back.

After a long moment of internal debate, Taka nods and promises that he won’t, his voice shaking and weak, but loud enough for the man to hear him. The man nods tersely, before reaching for a switch blade from his pocket, which makes Taka panic despite himself, his body automatically cringing away in fear. He doesn’t mean to, it’s just an automatic fight or flight response.

The man shushes him, his hands gentle on him again as he does his best to soothe. He then repeats that he isn’t going to harm him, he promises. He goes on and explains that it’s a man’s promise and that his brother always taught him that promises between men are the most important promises a man can make, and that you can’t ever break something like that. While Taka has no reason to believe the man, he... he is surprised to realize that he does. And so, he nods again, shifting into a seated position, angling his body to allow the man access to his wrists. He mutters an absent apology, to which the man snorts, replying that he gets it, don’t worry about it.

The man cuts the rope carefully, then, Taka super tense the entire time, waiting for the punchline and for the man to abruptly change temperament and start hurting him, laughing at his naivety for believing him. He is expecting this so much that when the man pulls back and puts his knife carefully away into his pocket, studying him closely, Taka doesn’t realize it for a few seconds. And when he does... he can’t help but blink, his eyebrows furrowing and his lips frowning.

Not liking the way that the man is staring at him— uncomfortable more for the gentleness and concern he sees than out of fear— he lifts his arms from behind his back and looks at the red and raw wounds around his wrists, dried blood mingling with fresh blood, making him wince. It hurts quite a lot, but considering how much pain he is in overall, it barely registers, honestly.

His breath leaves him entirely a second later, though, when he feels strong yet still so utterly gentle hands grab his, cradling them oh so tenderly within their warm and tender embrace. It makes his cheeks flush bright red, the sensation making him a little lightheaded and dizzy, even more so when his eyes automatically seek out lavender, shivering when their eyes meet. The man smiles at him, then, a small and crooked thing, but Taka privately believes it may be the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. The thought concerns him, but not enough to make him berate himself. As confused as he feels, he finds he prefers this than being beaten, thanks ever so.

The man begins talking again, then, saying how he sure has been hurt a lot, his voice low and rumbling, full of concern. It makes Taka flush with embarrassment, oddly ashamed at his state, like it was his fault or something. He apologizes softly, unsure what the man expects from him.

The man hums in discontent, though, shaking his head, before explaining that he’s not blaming him, don’t worry. He then goes on to ask if Taka would want him to dress the wounds, saying he has some first aid supplies and things like that. That makes Taka blush again, but he realizes that that might be for the best. He nods his head slowly, still afraid, but growing more used to this as time passes. He’s still waiting for the shoe to drop, for the man to suddenly decide to hurt him, fearing that the biker is just lulling him into a false sense of security before harming him worse than ever before, but... well. Taka has always been a trusting person by nature, so he can’t help his body’s natural inclination to trust the man.

The man leaves then for a little while, though Taka can hear him shuffling around in a small room attached to the one he’s in, which he assumes must be a bathroom. He takes the time to observe his surroundings, realizing that he’s in a fairly nice and spacious bedroom. It has a queen size bed along the back wall near the center, with a couple nightstands on either side. There is a large banner for the Crazy Diamonds that takes up half of the back wall, with other smaller decorations littering the other walls. There is a table and a small TV set, a couch and armchair, things like that. Taka thinks it looks kind of nice, maybe even a little cozy, even with the harsh and cold concrete floor and walls. The lighting is kept low, too, which Taka appreciates as he realizes his head is aching softly, the dehydration and hunger getting to him. Not to mention the blood loss...

He doesn’t get to dwell on this long before the man is back, carrying a large kit of first aid supplies. Taka realizes he must have a look of surprise on his face when the man smirks at him, snickering softly. The man then explains that he’s a biker, of course he has an extensive first aid kit in his room, duh. The words are oddly teasing, which makes Taka blush again, averting his eyes shyly.

He jolts a little when he feels gentle fingers touch him again, but he settles a lot quicker than before, offering the man a shaky smile when he sees the concern in the lavender eyes again. The man clears his throat awkwardly then and says that he’s going to start dressing the wounds, warning Taka that it’s going to hurt. Taka knows this, has dressed enough of his own wounds during his lifetime, and nods his head tightly as he grits his teeth in anticipation.

Despite the sting that comes from the antiseptic that the man uses, Taka doesn’t actually feel the pain all that much as the man gently cleans off his wrists first, not with how gentle the man is going. The man works in silence for a moment, before he begins talking, introducing himself formally at last. While Taka had obviously known his name, he finds himself able to think of the man by his first name for the first time.

Mondo asks for his name, then, even though Taka knows he must know it, considering that his gang had said it earlier. But the conversation helps distract from the stinging of the antiseptic, so he hesitantly replies, saying his name. He then, for reasons he doesn’t know, says that Mondo could call him ‘Taka,’ if he’d like. Taka does not get called that often by people, even if he privately calls himself it, but something about hearing Mondo say the nickname his mother gave him is oddly alluring to him, his stomach clenching with knots as a pleasant heat rises within him.

Despite what people often say about him, Taka knows that he is no fool. And as such, he dimly understands what it is he is currently feeling for the man before him. He does his best to rationalize it away, telling himself that it’s just a reaction to the stressful situation, that he’s just responding to the biker’s apparent kindness after so much cruelty, that it’s nothing more than that. Taka knows that he is gay, has known this for some time, but he knows that what he currently is feeling is not real, that it is manufactured based on the situation. Stockholm Syndrome, he tells himself. Nothing more.

Still, it’s hard to ignore how his stomach churns as Mondo gently tends to his wounds, the biker letting out soft comments here and there, asking him questions every so often when the pain gets really bad. Questions about his life, what he’s studying in uni, what career he wants, if he has a girlfriend... things like that. The personal questions make him blush, and while he knows he probably shouldn’t be telling these things to a biker gang leader, he can’t help how he replies honestly. He’s always been an open person, after all. He says that he’s studying political science, since he wants to become Prime Minister one day. He blushes when he says that he has no girlfriend, blushes harder when he accidentally lets slip that he has no friends in general, either.

That makes Mondo pause, the biker staring at him with wide eyes, asking him why not. The question embarrasses Taka, but he again answers truthfully, stammering about how he’s always been very bad at conversation, that he can’t ever manage to hold one for longer than a few minutes without boring or annoying his conversation partner. He also explains a little about his grandfather, embarrassed yet again.

Mondo doesn’t get mad at him, though, like he fears. He just hums thoughtfully, eyes glazed as he thinks about something, before he blurts out that he thinks Taka is pretty good at conversation, mumbling that he likes talking to him. It makes Taka blush bright red again, but he feels some comfort in the fact that Mondo is blushing just as bright too. Taka stammers out a shaky thanks, the words hanging in the air as they both stare awkwardly at the ground, the dorks unable to handle the Emotion.

After an awkward moment passes, Mondo clears his throat and continues dressing the wounds, having just finished wrapping Taka’s torso with a lot of gauze to help with the bruising. Mondo had mentioned that he didn’t think the ribs were broken, just sprained, but that the gauze should help the bruising feel a little better. With that done, Mondo moves onto Taka’s face, wincing a little as he sees the dark bruising and the broken nose.

Apologizing softly, Mondo asks if he can set his nose so it will heal straight. It’s been a couple days since the injury, so doing so might risk breaking it again, he explains. Taka thinks about that for a second, biting his lip gently, before nodding, not looking forward to the pain but knowing that it will likely be better in the long run. Mondo apologizes again, soft and awkward, before gently grabbing his nose and setting it as quick as he can.

It still hurts quite a lot, and Taka cannot help the whimper of pain he gives, tears rising to his eyes and falling quick, stinging the small cuts all along his cheeks. To his intense surprise, he feels a warm hand cup his cheek, a soothing thumb coming up to gently wipe the tears away. He hears Mondo shush him softly again, muttering quietly that it’s okay. That Taka is okay.

Taka feels his heart beat fast again at the action, his cheeks flushed uncomfortably, but also very pleasantly. He has never felt like this for anyone before, and it concerns him a little. It concerns him more for how little it concerns him, though, to be honest.

Mondo seems to realize what he’s doing then, pulling back abruptly with bright red cheeks and an awkward grimace on his face. He doesn’t storm off, though, and instead goes back to setting his nose, putting a nose splint on it to keep it in place. He apologizes for not having any ice, saying that it’s in the kitchen area but that he can’t head out to grab it just then. He promises that he will soon, though. Taka finds it sweet and smiles shakily at him, thanking him once more. His thanks seems to embarrass Mondo more, and Taka is coming to find that he really adores the shade of pink Mondo’s cheeks turn when he’s embarrassed. But that line of thinking is very dangerous, so he curbs it immediately. Or he tries to...

They continue chatting awkwardly after that, Mondo asking questions and Taka answering. It becomes easier as time goes on, and soon Mondo is chuckling at some of the things Taka says, much to Taka’s professed annoyance. Truthfully, Taka couldn’t care less, since the sound of Mondo’s laughter is very alluring to him. Not that he allows himself to think that, of course.

Before long, all of Taka’s wounds are dressed and cared for, his body bruised and aching, but no longer in intense pain. Mondo helps him get back into the shirt but pauses as he watches him struggle to get back into the jeans (which Mondo had removed with bright red cheeks to get a couple wounds on Taka’s thighs), confused when Taka absently mentions how much he hates jeans and things like that. Mondo asks why he’s wearing them if he hates them, and Taka confusedly explains that Mondo’s gang had dressed him in the outfit earlier, to make him look more presentable. The words seem to anger Mondo, and Taka is shocked to realize that he doesn’t really feel afraid. Not when he recognizes that Mondo isn’t angry at him, per se. That gives him pause, but he pushes it aside again, realizing it’s futile to think about.

Mondo stands up and strides away from him, then, much to Taka’s confusion. Unable to stop himself, he asks where the biker is going, blinking when he sees him stop in front of a dresser. Mondo doesn’t reply as he shifts through it, seeming to be looking for something. The biker lets out a soft noise of triumph after a moment and pulls something out, something Taka cannot see from his distance. As Mondo gets closer, however, he notices that he is holding a pair of old, worn sweatpants, which makes Taka blink.

Mondo explains that they are an old pair from when he’d been younger that he’d never gotten around to tossing even though they no longer fit, handing them to Taka with a soft blush. He explains quickly that he thought they’d be more comfortable than the jeans, and that they should fit him since they’re so old. The explanation oddly makes Taka blush, too, before looking away shyly again even as he takes the sweatpants with another soft thanks.

It’s hard for him to put the pants on with the multitude of injuries he has, so Mondo offers to help, which Taka agrees to with great embarrassment. Now that his wounds are all dressed and the pain has gone down, he is starting to register the feel of Mondo’s hands on his body and it is making him feel some very inappropriate things, he will tell you that! He tries to push it down, but he can’t stop how his body reacts, much to his intense mortification.

Luckily, Mondo doesn’t seem to notice and together they are able to get the pants on. Taka notes that they feel very, very soft, softer than anything he has ever worn before. They are slightly too big and slightly too long on him, but he kind of likes them even more for it.

It’s as he absently petting the soft material that he hears Mondo mutter at him, the words so quiet that it takes Taka a moment to register them. And, when he does, he blushes bright red again, since he realizes that Mondo had said— very awkwardly— that Taka could keep the pants if he wanted after this. Since, you know. It’s not like Mondo can wear them.

Taka tries to stammer out a rejection, saying that he couldn’t possibly accept such a nice gift, to which Mondo gives him a weird look. The look makes Taka anxious that he said something wrong, the feeling growing when Mondo states that it’s not really anything big, they’re just a pair of old sweatpants, it’s really not a big deal?

Taka feels awkward again, but again can’t help how he explains that he’s just never been given a gift before, not from anyone other than his father. It makes his insides squirm when he sees Mondo staring at him with wide eyes, but before it can get too uncomfortable, Mondo looks away, blushing softly again as he says again that it’s really nothing.

Before Taka can begin to compartmentalize the words, Mondo continues, his voice so low and mumbling Taka has to fight to understand him, but Taka... Taka swears he hears Mondo say that he deserves all the gifts in the world, really. Which just... makes everything worse for him, in all honesty.

The awkwardness rises between them, both men blushing brightly and looking anywhere but at the other for several long moments, nearing a full minute. Taka doesn’t like the awkwardness, wants to say something to break it, but he has no idea what, given how bad he always has been at conversing. Not to mention how utterly strange the circumstances are, really...

The silence gets broken finally by the sound of Taka’s stomach growling, to his intense mortification. He is glad that it seems to have broken the tension, at least, as Mondo is looking at him again, wry amusement dancing in his eyes as his lips smirk gently. He teases Taka about his growling stomach, which Taka realizes he doesn’t mind as much as he usually does when he gets taunted by someone. In fact... he almost likes the gentle teasing, finding the soft amusement dancing within Mondo’s eyes to be quite amazing.

Taka accidentally ruins the moment, though, when he absently mentions that it’s been days since he last ate, so he supposes it makes sense that his stomach was growling. He’d meant the words almost like a joke, but it of course fell flat, as Mondo stares at him with wide eyed horror, asking him bluntly what he means.

Nervous (and upset that he ruined the beautiful smile upon Mondo’s lips), Taka stammers about how he has not been given any food and very little water since he was taken a couple nights before, leaving him kind of hungry. He’s actually starving, but he does his best to downplay his plight, not wanting to be too much of a burden.

The reminder of why Taka is there seems to upset Mondo greatly, he notes with dismay, watching as any amusement dies immediately at his words, the simmering anger and upset rising in the lavender eyes as his hands clench into tight fists at his sides. Taka doesn’t feel afraid, though, as he realizes once more that the look isn’t directed at him, but instead... instead is at his gang. Taka almost doesn’t believe this, thinking that he must be deluding himself, but his assumption gets confirmed when he hears Mondo mutter that he’s going to “f*ckin’ kill those godd*mn b*st*rds.”

The words concern Taka greatly, and he is unable to stop himself from chastising Mondo, saying that violence is not ever the answer. Mondo gives him a strange look for that but doesn’t reply back. He just keeps scowling, his eyes averting immediately in what Taka thinks might be shame.

Mondo mutters out yet another apology, then, this one more emotive than the last few. Mondo continues and says that it’s his fault Taka is stuck here, his fault that he was harmed this way. If he had just never said anything about Taka in the first place, then none of this would ever have happened, making him the one to blame for this entire situation. Taka watches, his heart aching softly, as Mondo curls in on himself, looking miserable before him.

Before he can stop himself, he finds himself reaching out, touching Mondo’s shoulder gently, doing his best not to flinch back when Mondo jolts at the touch. He gets tongue tied when Mondo looks up at him with wide, unhappy eyes, but he quickly presses on, realizing then that he doesn’t want Mondo to beat himself up over what had happened. While some part of him is still afraid that this is all some very elaborate hoax to harm him even more in the end, the majority of him is starting to get used to the idea that this might be real. That Mondo might truly mean what he says.

The thought creates some cognitive dissonance inside him, since he has spent years listening to his father rant about biker gangs, the Crazy Diamonds and Mondo in particular, and it’s very strange to think that maybe Mondo isn’t all bad. But he decides to shove the thoughts away for now, knowing it’s unhelpful considering his current situation. Especially since he knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that he doesn’t like seeing Mondo look so miserable and that he would probably do just about anything to make the look go away...

He then awkwardly, but with as much enthusiasm as he can muster (which isn’t much by his standards but is a heck of a lot by anyone else’s), tells Mondo that he doesn’t blame him for what has happened. Not at all, really. He cannot say that it hasn’t been a very terrifying experience, one that he definitely cannot say he has enjoyed, but he assures Mondo that he doesn’t blame him in any way, shape, or form. It was just a tragic misunderstanding, Taka claims, thinking that he almost believes it himself with how confidently he says it. And when Mondo looks up at him, his eyes wide and searching, he does his best to keep his face as open and honest as possible, which isn’t very hard for him to do, honestly.

After a few moments, Mondo asks absently, dazedly, if he truly means that. In response, Taka nods enthusiastically, doing his best to hide the wince of pain the action causes within him. He then verbalizes his answer, saying that of course he means it, he always means everything he says. He even goes on to say how he is very grateful he has met Mondo, his cheeks blushing with his embarrassment as he praises the biker, saying how kind and caring he has been.

Mondo is also blushing, the soft pink he is coming to adore bright on his cheeks, his eyes soft as silk as they look at him steadily. Taka feels his heart beat fast as he stares at Mondo, part of him wondering what is currently going on. He has never felt this way, ever, and while he knows what it means, logically, he has no idea what it means, personally. Emotionally.

He has no idea what exactly it is he wants from this encounter, knowing that what he is feeling is impossible, especially considering who Mondo currently is and who Taka wishes so desperately to be. And yet, as the moments drag on and their eyes do not part, the charged energy around them growing more and more overbearing as the seconds pass, he starts to wonder if any of that truly matters. Mondo’s past and present, his own present and future. Does any of that truly matter when he feels as strongly as this? Or is this a lie, brought on by desperation and relief at having someone be kind to him after such horrible abuse? Can he trust what he is feeling at all? Does it matter? He doesn’t know, he has never felt more lost. All he knows is that when he’s looking at Mondo, he feels calmer and more in control than he ever has... ever, really. Which is ridiculous considering he has never been less in control in his life, but... but...

Before Taka can come to any form of conclusion, he both hears and feels his stomach rumble, his embarrassment rising as he finally breaks the eye contact, his heart pounding, and his breath shaky with all of the weird thoughts and emotions swirling around him. He hears Mondo stumble to his feet, and while his eyes want so desperately to look, he forces himself not to, keeping his eyes on the concrete floor. He is still sitting on the cold ground, but he finds he doesn’t mind it too much, as it is stabilizing in some ways. He sits in the awkward silence that has arisen for a very charged second, before Mondo breaks it soon after.

Mondo mumbles about how he should probably get Taka something to eat, and also some ice, asking him if he has any allergies or preferences or things like that. Taka shakes his head slowly, answering shakily that he doesn’t, and that he is fine with pretty much anything, thanks. Mondo stares at him for a second, before nodding and moving to head to the door. He pauses before he gets too far, his body swaying as he contemplates something. Before Taka can ask if he is alright, Mondo is turning back and muttering that Taka probably shouldn’t be sitting on the floor, asking haltingly if he’d like help moving to the couch before he leaves. Taka blushes, again, and thinks it likely would be wiser to say no, to not allow Mondo to get so close to him again. Besides, it’s not like the floor is that uncomfortable...

But, despite himself entirely, he finds himself nodding as quickly as he can, shaky smile rising on his lips as he stammers that that he would appreciate that, thanks. It makes his stomach clench to see the soft, decidedly pleased smile that rises on Mondo’s face as the biker nods and heads over to him slowly.

Once he’s standing tall over him, he pauses for a moment, seeming to be collecting himself. Taka appreciates this, as it allows him to also collect his own very scattered thoughts. Before he is able to though, Mondo is bending down slowly and is carefully reaching out for Taka, his voice low and muttering as he asks if it’s okay to touch him. Taka blushes yet again at the words (if he ever stopped blushing, of course) and nods once, quickly, smile brighter on his face as he verbally agrees. Mondo smiles brightly back, cheeks also flushed, as he gently moves forward, his hands reaching out to grab Taka. There’s an awkward moment when Taka wonders what Mondo is planning, but Mondo verbalizes his plan before implementing it, mumbling that he’s going to pick Taka up and carry him to the couch, to prevent any of the injuries from getting jolted too badly. This embarrasses Taka, and he stammers that he is pretty heavy, he’s sure he can walk himself, it’s fine.

This makes Mondo smirk, his eyes dancing with humor as the biker claims that he could lift Taka easily, since he routinely deadlifts 90 kilos (roughly 200 pounds), easy. This gives Taka some very inappropriate thoughts, which he forcefully shakes off as he smiles shakily, nodding his agreement with only mild hesitation. Mondo smiles warmly back, before returning to the task at hand, transcribing what he is doing to prevent Taka from freaking out. Taka appreciates it more than he can say, and as such he doesn’t even tense up at all when he feels warm, strong arms wrap around him and lift him gently bridal style, his body pressing wondrously to a warm and highly muscular chest. Taka has some more ~~inappropriate thoughts~~ that he has to firmly stow away as Mondo begins to walk to the couch, the biker so gentle and careful that he doesn’t feel any hint of pain whatsoever.

Being put down also doesn’t hurt, but he finds himself strangely not wanting the biker to let go of him, his heart racing as he feels oddly at home in Mondo’s arms. He reluctantly does let go, though, but he swears that Mondo, too, is letting his hands linger just a touch longer than they should as they slide out from under his body... but surely, he must be imagining things...

Right?

He doesn’t get any time to try and rationalize anything before Mondo is standing again, body angling to turn away. Before he leaves, though, he hesitates, and then... then he darts his hand out to trail gently across Taka’s forehead, tenderly brushing back the hair that has fallen messily into his eyes. Cheeks permanently stained red, he watches as Mondo stammers out a quick goodbye, promising that he’ll be right back and that no one else will dare enter the room, indicating that he will be safe here. His hand is still lingering along his cheek, though, which makes it very challenging for Taka to think.

But then the hand is gone, and Mondo is hastily exiting the room, gait awkward. Taka finds it strange that such a fearsome biker gang leader would ever act so awkward and fumbling, but he finds it strangely... cute. Which is definitely a word he’d never have thought to apply to a biker, but there they are!

As Taka sits alone by himself in the room, he wonders yet again what will happen next. Where this all will lead. If it will lead anywhere good, or if his trusting nature will be taken advantage of yet again.

He supposes only time will tell...

~

Mondo is freaking out. Like, full on internal panic, worse even than when he first realized he likes dudes as well as chicks. And it’s all that godd*mn kid’s fault.

If he had felt interested when he first saw the boy’s photo, he is full on infatuated now. He doesn’t even really know why, since Taka (as the boy had earnestly told him he could call him, good god) is definitely not his usual type. Not to mention it’s been less than an hour. But he’s just so... good. Kind. Nice. Things like that. Like... sh*t. Even after being beaten to an inch of his life and starved for almost two days, he still tried to console Mondo for feeling bad about it. Like... what the f*ck?! Who the hell does that?!

He’s also cute as all hell... the blush that seems permanently on his face is slowly driving Mondo insane, he swears to Christ. And his smile... d*mn, it’s so adorable! It should be a crime to be that adorable, Mondo swears.

The worst part of it all is that there is no universe in which Mondo would ever have a chance with the kid. Even discounting the fact that it’s entirely his fault the kid is in this situation, no matter what Taka may say, there’s also the fact that Mondo is literally a criminal. One that the kid’s father has made it his life’s mission to see rot in jail. A worse match could not possibly exist, dear god.

And yet... as he walks silently through his hideout— not quite hiding from his gang, but definitely not wanting to deal with them at the moment— he can’t help the way his heart races at the thought of the boy. Nor can he help how he wishes that- that they could... could...

But it’s stupid. And ridiculous. It would never work. And even if the kid feels anything similar to him at the moment— which is so doubtful, Jesus Christ— it would only be because of sh*t like... Stockholm Syndrome, or whatever it’s called. He’d just be latching onto the first kindness he’s been given after a traumatic event. It’s not real. It... it wouldn’t ever be real.

Mondo could never have something so nice.

Tired of the useless thoughts, Mondo pushes it all aside and enters the kitchen carefully, watchful to see if anyone is inside. When he sees that no one is, he enters easily and heads to the fridge, which is stocked with some party food that was put away after the official party ended earlier. He grabs some small sandwiches and some sushi and rice balls, uncertain what the kid would like. After a couple days without food, Mondo figures he probably should eat light, yeah? There isn’t any soup, but he does make sure to grab some seaweed salad and plain white rice, since that should be light enough if he can’t eat anything heavier. He also grabs some water and some juice, for the dehydration.

Finally, he opens the freezer and grabs a bunch of ice packs, knowing the kid has a ton of places that are injured. It’s too much for him to carry, so he grabs a plastic bag to put it all in, which makes it all easier to handle. As he’s looking in the freezer, he notices some frozen mochi in various flavors, which gives him pause. Before he can talk himself out of it, he’s grabbing it, rationalizing it by saying it can be a peace offering, a better apology than the absolute sh*t ones he’s been giving thus far. And if the kid can’t eat it, well, then he can. He f*cking loves mochi of all kinds, alright? Frozen mochi the best, even if it’s not traditional. It’s why the gang got so much of it.

Shaking off the weirdness inside him, he heads back to his room, still looking out for gang members. He almost gets caught once when some newer members pass by the hallway he is in, but luckily, they don’t see him, so he’s able to get back to his room (and Taka) without any incident.

He does pause for an extended moment outside the room, his heart racing strangely in his chest, in a way it never has before. Mondo has had crushes on people before, on both dudes and chicks, but somehow this feels different. Maybe it’s the situation, maybe it’s something else entirely, but something about the kid makes Mondo feel so much inside. He doesn’t think he’s blushed so much around a single person since he was fourteen and his bro caught him jacking off and refused to stop teasing him about it for weeks. But this feels so very different from then, it’s laughable to compare the two.

But he can’t loiter outside his own room forever, so he takes a deep breath and knocks softly, not wanting to startle the kid without warning, before he enters. As he does, he realizes that he hadn’t bothered to tie the kid up before he left, so he has a moment to panic that the kid had escaped while he’d been out. It would honestly be the most logical thing to do, godd*mn. And... and while he can’t deny the rush of absolute disappointmentat the thought, he realizes he wouldn’t be able to blame the kid if he did use the time to make his escape. After all, it’s not like he owes Mondo anything, dear god. The more he thinks about it, the more he realizes that this makes the most sense and— while it does hurt something deep inside him— he resolves to not let it break him when the door fully opens and he doesn’t see the kid.

He is expecting this so much that once the door is fully open and his eyes carelessly dart across the familiar room, he almost doesn’t register that Taka is still sitting on the couch where he’d left him, still as a statue. He blinks owlishly at the kid as Taka turns to face him, his own eyes wide. Heat flares within him when he sees the startled, almost afraidlook on the youthful face morph quickly into a bright and happy smile, the kid greeting him happily. Like... like they’re old friends or something...

It’s only when the kid tilts his head and gives him a questioning look that he realizes he’s been staring for a little too long. His cheeks bright red (like a f*cking schoolgirl, dear god), he hastily enters the room and places the bag down on the coffee table before the couch. He pauses when he hears the kid absently mutter about how plastic bags are bad for the environment, and how Mondo shouldn’t use them. He can’t stop the incredulous look he gives the boy, but Taka doesn’t seem to even notice it, as focused as he is on the contents of the bag.

That jolts Mondo into action as he begins to remove the various foods from the bag, as well as the ice. He leaves the mochi, though. Just... for now, he tells himself.

He explains to the kid that he wasn’t sure what he would like or what he could handle, so he got a bit of everything, to be safe. Taka doesn’t seem upset as he beams at Mondo, thanking him wholeheartedly, saying that while he doesn’t get it often, he loves sushi and that he can stomach sandwiches, though he prefers traditional Japanese food. Mondo awkwardly mentions that he feels the same, but that his brother used to make them sandwiches when they were little, since he wasn’t very good at cooking much else. That leads to Taka to curiously ask why his brother was the one to feed him, which causes Mondo to freeze up.

Taka doesn’t notice, thankfully, since he’s so focused on grabbing the ice and placing it upon the worst of his bruises, before hungrily grabbing some of the rice balls and eating a few, slowly but clearly hungrily. The enthusiastic noises the kid lets out does not help his nerves at all, but it does help calm down the rising panic. He has never liked explaining his family situation to people, but somehow... somehow, he thinks it won’t be so bad to explain it to Taka.

Haltingly, Mondo explains that his ma and da weren’t exactly the best. That his ma was a horrible, neglectful alcoholic and his da was an abusive a**hole. Daiya— his brother, he explains— had been the one to always make sure that Mondo was kept safe and healthy, protecting him from everything, including his own parents. His da left them when he was five and his ma died when he was ten, but Daiya was always there for him, feeding him and ensuring he was kept alive. He even helped with his schoolwork, allowing Mondo to not fail out before middle school. He can feel Taka staring at him, the boy pausing in his eating to watch him with his wide, bright red eyes.

Mondo can sense the question the kid wants to ask, can tell from the intense way he is staring that he wants to ask about Daiya, about what happened to him. Mondo is anticipating it, even if he dreads it, knowing that lying to this boy is going to be hard, but also knowing he has to do it. No one can know the truth about what happened to Daiya, after all. Absolutely no one...

However... despite the fact he knows the kid is thinking about it, Taka just... moves on. He says he’s sorry such a thing happened, voice soft and sympathetic, and then he... he begins talking about himself. His voice is as halting at Mondo’s had been, the boy clearly unsure if he should be sharing this, but he does it anyway. Talking about how his mother had died of pneumonia when he’d been eight, leaving him alone with his grieving father and the endless debt his grandfather had foisted upon them. How things had gotten very hard for them after they lost one working adult, the debt nearly forcing them to lose their minuscule apartment. His voice is soft as he talks about it, his eyes sad with grief plain within them, but there is strength there, too.

It makes Mondo feel sympathy for the boy, knowing sort of what that is like. He also, for the first time, begins to feel some sympathy for Takaaki, realizing that the harsh and driven police chief had gone through more sh*t than he had expected the overbearing man to have. He doesn’t likethe chief, definitely not, but he realizes he can sympathize with him. Just a little.

But that is very much Not something he wants to feel for the man trying to send him to jail for the rest of his life, truthfully. As such, Mondo decides to steer the conversation away from death and past tragedy then, realizing that it’s making him Feel Things he doesn’t really want to, thanks.

Feeling a touch awkward, Mondo strikes up a conversation about some popular movie that literally everyone in Japan has seen. Or... so he thought. Because, apparently, Taka doesn’t watch movies. Or television. Ever.

This gets Mondo started on a long, impassioned rant, questioning how Taka could be almost an adult but hadn’t ever seen a single Disney movie. Or Ghibli! Mondo himself can’t say he’s a huge movie or TV fan, preferring to ride his hog and be outside, but even he will waste time watching a film or show or something.

It’s after about five minutes that Mondo realizes he’s been ranting nonstop, Taka not saying a word. As soon as he realizes this, he stops talking, his face on fire, feeling like a complete and utter moron. Part of him is afraid to look at Taka, but when he hears the boy let out a sound of disappointment, he can’t help how his eyes dart over, his heart freezing at the interested and invested look he finds there. His heart then begins to race when Taka earnestly asks about the movies Mondo was talking about, apparently wanting to know more. He confesses that the reason he never watched TV or movies was that he had thought that they were a waste of time, but that he’s always privately been curious about such things, wondering what makes them so important to so many people.

At Taka’s insistence, Mondo keeps going, talking about the films that he and Daiya would watch when he’d been young, Taka listening intently and even asking questions here and there. The conversation lasts for a while, and Mondo is shocked to realize that almost half an hour has passed while they had talked, Taka having finished eating and drinking a while before. Mondo had even eaten a little, too, since Taka had confessed that he felt weird being the only one to eat.

It’s then that Mondo has the thought that ‘this feels like a f*cking date,’ though he immediately dismisses said thought, knowing how moronic it is. The feeling still lingers, though, getting worse when he watches Taka throw his head back and laugh at something absent Mondo had muttered in his distraction, Taka so emotive it’s not even funny. It makes Mondo want to do everything he can to hear his laugh again, the desire so strong he doesn’t know how to handle it.

It’s as the conversation is winding to a close that he remembers the mochi, his cheeks flushing as he thinks about the dessert he’d brought, doing everything he can to force down the feeling that this is date because it very much is not, good god. Part of him is worried the mochi would have melted, but the room itself is kept fairly cold and the mochi had been frozen solid almost, so he has hope that it will still be somewhat frozen.

With fumbling words, Mondo mentions the dessert as casually as possible, though he knows he fails miserably. But it doesn’t matter at all, not when he sees Taka’s eyes literally light up, excitement bright within them. The boy explains with so much enthusiasm about how much he used to adore mochi, before his grandfather was kicked out of office, and they fell into debt. He says that he rarely gets the treat anymore, not with how expensive and frivolous it is, but that he has never forgotten how much he adored it once upon a time. He also says that his stomach is feeling better, so he thinks he should be able to eat some, if Mondo doesn’t mind.

Mondo just about self-destructs at the adorableness and mutely holds out the bag, offering Taka the ability to pick out whatever flavor he wants. There are a bunch of different ones, mostly traditional flavors like strawberry, mango, green tea and jasmine, but a couple of them are less common, like dragon fruit and kumquat.

He watches— heart beating fast and off tempo— as Taka deliberates carefully for a full-on minute, eyes darting between the choices like if he chooses wrong, the world will end or something. It’s so cute that it takes him that minute to untie his tongue enough to grunt that Taka can have more than one, so he doesn’t have to worry about choosing wrong or anything. His words make Taka blush again (for the hundredth time, Mondo thinks faintly), the kid stammering out his thanks, saying that Mondo is too kind again. Which is utterly hilarious, especially considering why Taka is even here, but by then, Mondo figures it’s best to just... go along with it, really. If it makes Taka feel better...

Taka quickly makes his choice then, grabbing a green tea mochi ice cream, biting into it soon after, letting out a particularly obscenesound as he very vocally enjoys the treat. Mondo is flushed bright red, and his boxers are significantly tighter than they should be by Taka’s second bite, which is almost just as bad as the first, dear god. By the time Taka finishes the relatively small dessert, Mondo is very flustered and regretting every single life choice he has ever made, truly.

Taka unfortunately notices Mondo’s situation and gets concerned, asking if he is alright. As embarrassed as he is, Mondo can’t help how he yells, not wanting to but being unable to stop it. He immediately berates himself when he sees Taka flinch back, his red eyes wide and terrified, the upset clear within him. That, more than anything, reminds Mondo how futile his ridiculous ‘crush’ is. Taka could never see him in any positive light. He just... can’t.

Softening his voice forcefully, he hesitantly explains about how he always yells when he gets nervous, but that he hadn’t meant to sound angry, he isn’t, he swears. He apologizes too, feeling awful that he’d ruined things with his usual nonsense. But, to his complete shock, Taka gets over his fear quickly and is smiling again before he knows it. It’s less enthusiastic than before, but no less beautiful for it.

Taka then says that he understands and doesn’t fault Mondo for it, saying that it’s okay. A slightly awkward silence rises between them before Mondo manages to break it by awkwardly offering Taka another mochi, which Taka takes happily with another bright smile. Mondo does his best to not let it get to him as badly, and only partially fails.

Taka insists that Mondo eat some of the mochi, too, claiming again that he feels awkward being the only one eating, and soon they both are going through the sweet treats Mondo had packed, the ice cream inside the gummy exterior soft and almost melted, but not quite. It is honestly the perfect texture and Mondo can’t help the soft sound of appreciation he lets out as he eats his dessert. He gets distracted when he hears a strangled noise come from the boy across from him. Concerned, Mondo looks up at Taka, worried that he’d have to somehow give the kid the Heimlich, but all he sees is Taka looking bright red, his eyes wide and his mouth partially open. There’s a glazed quality to his eyes, and it takes a moment to understand why the kid is looking at him like that, before it hits him in a wave of embarrassed pleasure.

The kid had been turned on by the noise he’d made while eating the mochi. Holy sh*t!

Face bright red and stomach in twisted knots, Mondo looks at the ground, breathing deeply to try and stop the heat flooding him. His pants are even tighter now, his junk straining against his boxer shorts, and he has to forcibly think of every unsexy thing he can to force it down. It works, but only barely, since Taka is still staring at him with a sort of hungerhe doubts the kid even realizes. Eventually Taka looks away, face red, as he shakily grabs another mochi to eat. Figuring that moving the f*ck on is the best course of action, Mondo does the same, though he’s careful to keep his noises to himself. For… both of their sakes, really.

Soon all the mochi he packed is gone, Taka looking very satisfied as he smiles gently at Mondo, looking for all the world like they are old friends who are just meeting up again, not a captor and captive. The thought makes Mondo feel so incredibly awful and he knows that it’s time for this whole charade to end. He has dressed Taka’s wounds and has fed him and given him water. There is only one thing left for him to do to try and rectify this whole situation. To make up for the pain and suffering Taka has faced at the hands of him and his gang.

He has to let Taka go free.

The thought is far more painful than he can possibly imagine. The idea of letting Taka go and never seeing him again, never speaking to him again, it’s… it’s awful and it hurts so f*cking badly. He has no clue what is going on between him and the kid, but he finds that he strangely likes it. Their dynamic. Their rapport. And he… he finds he doesn’t want to lose that.

But it’s stupid. So utterly, completely stupid. This isn’t real, he tells himself harshly, the mochi in his gut roiling angrily with his emotions. This isn’t real and Taka isn’t here because he wants to be. He’s here because he has to be. Because his gang forced him to be. If it was up to Taka, he’d never have come to this place at all, would never have willingly spent time with a criminal biker gang leader. This isn’t Taka’s world. He doesn’t belong here. He’s a good kid, the kind with hopes and dreams that Mondo will never have. Yeah, he’s sometimes has the thought of going into carpentry, but it’s not like he could ever f*cking do that sh*t. He’s a biker. A criminal. The only future he has is to spend the rest of his life rotting in jail, honestly. There is no retirement for him. He doesn’t get to retire.

This is his life. Biker gangs and violence and anger. He doesn’t deserve anything else. Not after all he has done. Not after all the people he’s hurt. He doesn’t deserve someone like Taka, who is sunshine and brightness, so g*dd*mn beautiful it hurts his eyes. Someone who is forgiving to an absolute fault, willing to let go of his own anger and fear if it just means helping someone else. Even if that someone else hurt them or is responsible for them being hurt. Taka… Taka is good, so incredibly good, and Mondo… Mondo never will be. Good. Not even a little. Not at all.

And so, his heart aching fiercely, he looks at Taka from the corner of his eyes, not strong enough to face him head on for this conversation. And he… he begins to speak.

Voice halting and way too f*cking weak, Mondo mumbles that it’s probably time to get Taka back to his home. He can see Taka whip his head to face him, eyes wide. Mondo can almost pretend he sees disappointmentand pain in those brilliant scarlet eyes, but he forces himself to ignore it. It’s just a trick of the light. Nothing else.

And yet… he can’t quite ignore the disappointment he hears so plainly in Taka’s voice, the kid dejectedly saying that perhaps that is a good idea. Saying that his father might be wondering where he is by now. From the corner of his eyes, he can still see the reluctance on Taka’s face, and it makes Mondo feel so very, very strange inside. Like his insides are rebelling against him or something. He tries to push it down, standing and making his way over to his dresser to grab his keys, but… but he can’t quite manage it.

When he returns to Taka, he asks softly if the kid thinks he’d be able to handle riding on his hog, or if he should try and grab the van that they use for various events out. He says it will be harder to grab the van unnoticed— since it’s parked in the lot where the rest of the gang stores their rides, while Mondo keeps his baby in a private garage— but that he will do that if it makes Taka feel safer.

Taka is just staring at him with wide eyes, his hands shaking a little, and it concerns Mondo greatly. He’s about to stammer something out, maybe even offering to call Taka a cab, but then… then the kid is nodding slowly, saying that he thinks he’d be able to handle a ride on a motorcycle. Mondo finds the way Taka says ‘motorcycle’ unreasonably adorable and has to squash down his rising emotions to nod slowly in return. But then Taka is continuing, asking anxiously if Mondo has a helmet and safety gear that Taka can borrow, since he knows how unsafe motorcycles are and he wouldn’t want to get hurt in case of a crash.

It makes Mondo snort, a smirk on his face that he hopes disguises the roiling in his gut at such a thought, and mutters how he wouldn’t crash, he’s been doing this since he was practically in diapers, he knows how to ride a hog, sh*t. The look Taka gives him is mildly disapproving as the kid reprimands him, saying that even still, it’s always good to be prepared. Past good experiences don’t preclude a future bad one, Taka explains seriously. It’s so cute that Mondo has to physically hide his face to prevent the kid from seeing the almost smitten look he knows is currently rising on his face. He doesn’t know why he’s so smitten with Taka after such a short amount of time, but dear god, he is.

But he moves on and considers the kid’s request. He furrows his brow as he thinks about it, wondering if they do have any protective gear in the hideout. None of his gang really bothers with that sh*t, but… well. He thinks that maybe… if he looks…

Mondo moves absently over to an old storage box he keeps in the corner of the room, knowing that he used to have an old helmet he used when he first started out, Daiya insisting on it despite Mondo’s displeasure. He thinks he shoved it in the storage box after Daiya- y-you know. He doesn’t know if it’ll fit the kid, but it may. Taka is smaller than him, so maybe the helmet he wore as a kid would fit. If he can f*cking find it, that is…

He can feel Taka’s curious eyes on him as he looks, but he ignores it as he pretty much tears the storage container apart without any care. Finally, as he reaches the bottom, he finds the old thing, letting out a noise of triumph as he holds it up like a prize, grinning back at Taka happily. Taka has a dazed look on his face, but he quickly snaps out of it, looking at the mess Mondo made with disapproval.

To Mondo’s complete and total shock, Taka stands then and heads to the mess, tutting as he claims it’s not a good idea to leave such a mess lying around. Mondo is stunned silent for a second as Taka approaches, but he finds his tongue when he watches the kid kneel down and begin putting Mondo’s things away, a lot more organized and careful than Mondo ever has been.

Confused, Mondo says that it’s fine, that he can just shove the things back into the box later once he gets back, to Taka’s obvious disgust. With an adorably haughty and almost pretentious look on his face, Taka explains that shoving things away in a box is not cleaning, thank you very much. Cleaning is a subtle and soothing task, the kid continues to explain, so ridiculously serious.

Unable to help it, Mondo lets out a huge laugh, so loud and boisterous his stomach aches with it, his heart fluttering awkwardly in his chest. He doesn’t usually laugh this hard, not since Daiya- well. He watches with his churning insides as Taka halts in his organized cleaning, his eyes wide and his cheeks flushed again as he looks at him, his mouth opening on a silent gasp. He looks dazed, but not in a bad way, and it’s doing some seriously funny things to his insides, Jesus Christ.

Taka eventually looks away, face now red, and goes back to cleaning. He winced a little, though, reminding Mondo of Taka’s injuries. Feeling guilty but knowing Taka won’t give up, Mondo kneels down beside him and begins to help with the cleaning. He even folds the clothes the way Taka does, though a lot clumsier and less neat. It still makes Taka beam at him, his eyes practically sparkling, so he supposes he’s doing something right.

They finish cleaning after about ten minutes, Taka looking highly satisfied with the newly organized box. He explains to Mondo shyly that he has always found comfort in cleaning, saying that it gave him control as a child that he often didn’t have. Mondo can understand that to some extent since he feels the same way about riding his hog. Mondo accidentally says that aloud, his cheeks flushing again with his unintended confession.

Taka doesn’t judge him, though. He just hums softly, a thoughtful look on his face as he leans back from his kneeling position to sit on his knees. And then… then he’s looking at Mondo curiously, an oddly nervous look on his face. Mondo wonders why he looks nervous, but learns a moment later, his body freezing as he hears Taka ask hesitantly why Mondo chose to join a gang in the first place. Why he decided to go down this path.

The question makes Mondo feel defensive, his anger rising with his discomfort. He’s had people ask him that before, mainly cops when he’d get caught as a kid, and he’s always hated being asked it. It reminds him, though, that Taka is the son of the police chief, and his chest goes cold as he wonders if Taka will be telling his father all about this conversation. He wouldn’t blame him, god he wouldn’t, but it makes him feel cold and aching and f*cking sad, and he doesn’t know how to handle that, he really doesn’t.

Luckily, before he can say anything that he’ll regret, Taka begins talking again, his words fast and frantic, his eyes wide as he takes in Mondo’s mounting anger and upset. Taka explains that he didn’t mean it negatively, but that he was just curious as to what made him choose this lifestyle. He says that his father has always been disparaging of such choices, but that he, himself, has always been curious about it. What makes someone go down such a path. Taka also shyly says that he doesn’t really see how Mondo could be that bad, since he’s been so kind to him since he got here. It makes Mondo feel like utter sh*t.

Looking away from Taka, Mondo considers the question more rationally, his stomach still clenching, but not angrily. While he hates talking about himself in such a way, he again finds that it… it’s not so bad. Not when it’s Taka he’s telling. Plus, he… he’s gotta clear up the clear misconceptions the kid is having about him. Because he is ‘that bad’. He most definitely is.

Faltering again, Mondo explains that Daiya had started the gang up when he’d been about nine and Daiya had been fifteen, as a way to make money and to give them independence. Daiya had been working in a different gang for several years before that, ever since their father left and they were pretty much on their own money wise, but it wasn’t until Daiya started The Crazy Diamonds that Mondo joined, too. He’d always loved riding with his brother on his hog, he explains fondly, but the gang stuff didn’t come until later.

Joining the gang had felt right to him, he continues, voice slower and less confident. He’d always had trouble controlling his anger, so being in a gang helped since he could get his anger out in some way. He admits sheepishly that he knows it’s not the best way he can handle the rage inside him, but that he doesn’t know what else to do. Besides. He’s the leader of his gang now and he can’t stop that. He just… can’t.

Part of him expects Taka to question him about that, but to his relief Taka doesn’t. Instead, Taka just hums softly, nodding with understanding. And then… then he asks softly if Mondo had ever considered leaving the gang. If he ever had any plans that didn’t relate to being a gangster.

Again, Mondo feels himself stiffen up, his discomfort and anger rising. It’s easier to push down this time, though, more so since he can see the earnestness on Taka’s face and he knows the kid doesn’t mean to be accusatory or judging, but that he’s honestly just… curious. Like he truly wants to know. It’s… refreshing, quite honestly.

And so… even though he knows he shouldn’t, knows it’s wrong, he… he confesses that yeah. Yeah, he has. A lot recently, if he’s being fully honest. The honesty makes him squirm, and before he can stop himself, he’s mentioning his absent and stupid as f*ck ideas of becoming a carpenter, of all things. He hurriedly says that he knows he never could, that he barely knows anything about woodworking and that he’d never actually get a job as a carpenter, not with his record. Despite himself, his throat gets thick while saying it and he has to swallow forcefully to try and get the emotion down. He jolts harshly when he feels a tentative hand touch his, his eyes wide as he meets wide red ones.

Quietly, Taka says that he doesn’t think that. That, with hard work and effort, anything is possible. He claims that if Mondo wants to… if he truly wants to become a carpenter and leave his life as a gangster behind… well. Then Taka is positive that he could do it. That Taka believes in him fully. And the strangest thing is… Mondo actually believes that he’s telling the truth.

It’s immediately overwhelming and Mondo has to force down the rush of emotion, breathing deeply to push it all aside. Taka is still looking at him with kindness and it’s too much. Standing abruptly, Mondo grunts that they should get out of there, that they’ve wasted enough time, Taka scrambling to stand soon after. Mondo hands the kid the helmet that started this whole mess and tells him to try it on, which Taka does without a word. The fit is a bit snug, but it should keep Taka safe should anything happen, Mondo thinks.

Taka removes the helmet once he’s done trying it on, his hair sticking straight up adorably once it’s off. It makes Mondo smile, but he quickly looks away before Taka can see. Clearing his throat, he tells Taka to follow close behind him and do as he said, privately hoping that they won’t get caught by anyone, but knowing that the risk is there. It’s been hours since he was left alone with Taka, and he has a feeling his gang is going to be curious about how their ‘meeting’ went. He has no illusions as to what his gang will be assuming they’ve been doing in here so long, though the thought of it disgusts him greatly. Despite all his faults and failings, he is proud to say he would never, ever force himself on someone else. The one time he slept with a woman was consensual, thank you very much, as have been the various other times he’s fooled around with people.

Besides… Taka is such a straight lace looking dude that he doubts he’d ever sleep with someone without knowing them very well first, maybe not even until marriage, even if he clearly feels some measure of attraction towards dudes, and—

Mondo cuts those thoughts off quickly, knowing that it’s useless to dwell on it. Fact is, he’s just a captor to Taka, even if the kid seems to think higher of him than he should. Once he sets Taka free, he probably won’t ever see him again. And that… is that.

Taka agrees to Mondo’s terms, reminding him that they are supposed to be leaving now. With a soft sigh, he gestures for Taka to follow him, heading to the door, reluctance stupidly high within him. It’s as he’s reaching for the door handle that he hears Taka call out to him, his voice confused. When Mondo turns back to face the kid with a raised eyebrow, he sees a confused frown (pout, really, but Mondo doesn’t think about that, not at all) on Taka’s face, which is kind of concerning…

Mondo then freezes when Taka speaks, the kid asking hesitantly if he should have the blindfold put back on if they’re going to be wandering through the hideout. Because, to be perfectly honest… he’d forgotten the kid is the son of the police chief. Again. Despite being reminded of it only a handful of minutes before. Jesus Christ…

However… as he looks at Taka and sees the small frown he’s still wearing, clearly not happy at the idea of wearing the blindfold but willing to do it if Mondo asks, he… he realizes he doesn’t want to force the kid to wear it again. Yeah, it’s stupid. This has been one of his favorite hideouts over the years, the one he’s kept most of his personal items in, and letting an outsider see the interior, let alone the son of a police chief is… reckless. Stupid, honestly.

But as he looks at Taka… painfully honest and open Taka… he thinks that maybe he can trust the kid. And that’s stupid too, since for all he knows maybe Taka is just a ridiculously good actor and has been playing him this entire g*dd*mn time, but… he doesn’t think so. He’s got a pretty good bullsh*t detector and it’s not gone off once around Taka. So maybe… maybe…

And even if Taka does rat them out and tells his father all about their hideout and where it’s located… maybe they’d deserve it. For what they all collectively did to the poor kid… the torture and starvation and terror they put him through… maybe it would only be right.

Regardless of how ridiculous it is, Mondo just shrugs tightly and tells Taka that it’s fine. That it doesn’t matter. He can see shock on the kid’s face, as well as a small measure of pleasure, which he does his hardest to not think on, god. Taka nods hesitantly, the small smile widening as he realizes Mondo is being serious. Since that just about shorts Mondo’s brain out again, he turns back to the door and focuses on finally getting Taka out of this dump.

Silent as mice, Mondo leads Taka through the catacomb of hallways and rooms, footsteps silent as he peeks around corners for signs of his gang before leading them down those paths. It feels hella weird to be sneaking around his own g*dd*mn place, but he doesn’t focus on it. He does notice that the kid is fairly silent too, even his footsteps barely making a sound on the concrete. It’s then that Mondo realizes that Taka isn’t wearing shoes, but by that point it’s not like he can fix that, so he puts it out of his mind and focuses on sneaking again.

Luckily, they manage to make it to Mondo’s private garage without any problems, Mondo letting out a sigh of relief as they enter the relatively large space. The only people allowed in this garage are him and his elite guard, but the guard isn’t allowed to enter without his permission. If someone were to enter now and see them, he’d have grounds to pretty much kick them out of the gang. After all, it’s not like he’s doing anything bad. He’s the g*dd*mn leader, for Christ’s sake. If he wants to take his captive around on his hog after leading them through the hideout without a blindfold, he’s f*cking allowed. It’s just… easier if they didn’t have to deal with all that at the moment, is all.

As he approaches his pride and joy, he sees Taka shuffling awkwardly by the entrance of the garage, fiddling with the helmet he’s still holding. He has a look of discomfort on his face and Mondo finds himself concerned despite himself. Forcing his voice to go as soft as it’s able, he asks the kid if he’s alright. If he needs anything first. Taka looks up at him with wide eyes at that, before shaking his head slowly.

Taka replies haltingly that no, he’s fine, he’s just nervous at the thought of riding on the ‘bike,’ as he calls it. He then mentions that he rarely, if ever, does anything risky, and that riding a ‘bike’ is very risky.

While normally Mondo would be pissed at hearing someone say such a thing about riding a hog, let alone calling his baby a ‘bike’ like a f*cking nerd, he finds Taka’s nerves kind of endearing. Trying to force down his smile, Mondo shrugs and mentions how he gets it, but reiterates that Taka has nothing to worry about. He’s been riding a hog alone since he was ten, after all, long before he had his official license, and he is an expert at driving it. He makes a joke about being the Ultimate at the action, which makes Taka smile faintly.

Taka goes quiet then, clearly thinking things over. After a minute, Taka nods decisively and says that he trusts Mondo, and that he will ride the ‘bike,’ putting the helmet on clumsily. The unexpected trust floors Mondo, and he finds himself unable to make the snarky comment about it being called a ‘hog,’ not a ‘bike,’ like he had planned on.

Instead, he just awkwardly clears his throat and heads for his baby, getting on fluidly. He gestures for Taka to get on too, which he does after a moment’s hesitation. It takes a couple false starts, but soon they both are mounted on the hog, Mondo instructing Taka to hold on as tight as he can, which Taka immediately does without question. Mondo is once again floored by how much trust Taka is putting into him, but he tries not to focus on it, knowing that he needs to focus.

Before leaving, he asks Taka where to drop him off, knowing a location would probably be good. And then, to his absolute shock, Taka tells him his home address. And Mondo knows that the kid understands how stupid this is, since Taka even jokingly says that he knows he probably shouldn’t be telling Mondo his address, but that he knows Mondo won’t do anything with it. His trust is once again overwhelming to Mondo, and he decides then and there to never break it. He may be a monster and a criminal, but somehow, he feels that breaking Taka’s trust would be the absolute worst thing he could ever, ever do.

Pushing down the swell of emotions, he sets off to the address given, warning Taka before he does. The kid still screams, though it is thankfully muffled by the helmet somewhat. But Mondo doesn’t care if his gang realizes what he’s doing now. They’d learn eventually and Mondo will handle it later. Later, when Taka is safely at home and Mondo can convince his gang to never, ever go after the kid again. And maybe… maybe provide a detail for him to ensure his continued safety once he gets home… after all, if he’s so foolish as to actually trust a monster like Mondo despite everything that was done to him, and despite having a police officer as a dad… well. Clearly, this kid needs protecting.

He pushes that all down yet again as he drives on, figuring the drive will take roughly twenty minutes given city traffic. He distantly allows himself to enjoy the feel of Taka’s arms around him, reveling in the sensation, but he doesn’t allow his mind to focus on it too long, for obvious reasons. It’s still nice, though. Very, very nice.

But it’s not meant to last. And before long, they are in front of a worn-down old apartment, one that even Mondo eyes critically. Taka doesn’t seem to notice his disdain and just smiles brightly at Mondo, saying that he is very grateful to him for his assistance, even going so far as to call Mondo a ‘good friend.’ Mondo can only stare with wide eyes at Taka, which clearly makes the kid nervous, as he begins to stammer that he hopes he isn’t overstepping his bounds and that he’s sorry if he had offended. Making it sound like Mondo is the one who should be offended at having Takaas a friend.

Which is… so wrong Mondo doesn’t have enough hours in a day to point it all out, so he just shakes his head quickly and states that he’d be f*cking honored to have Taka as a friend, if the kid wants him. The words make Taka beam, so bright it takes his breath away, his nod frantic once more. He also says he would like that very much, so earnest Mondo wonders if he died and this is some strange version of heaven. But like hell would he ever get into heaven after all the sh*t he’s done, so he curbs that thought. Still… it is very nice…

And still not real. That thought douses Mondo into ice cold reality, knowing that once Taka has some time to think things through and work through the trauma, he’ll want nothing to do with Mondo. Ever. Yes, he may think them friends now, but… it won’t last. Mondo has to remember that. He truly does, or else this is going to hurt so much worse than it already does…

Still. Despite that. Despite what he knows will happen and that he should avoid Taka and all thoughts about him. Despite it all. Mondo… Mondo can’t help but pull out a scrap of paper from his pocket, grabbing a pen he keeps in his side storage of his hog, and writing down his number shakily on the stained and frayed paper. Stomach alive with butterflies, he thrusts the paper towards Taka, muttering that if he ever has need of help, or if he just needs someone to talk to, he can call Mondo. And while Mondo doesn’t say it, he privately knows that he just gave Taka his personal, private number, not the number he uses for ‘business.’ Only the elite guard have his personal number. And now Taka. And now… Taka.

He feels a shot of pain shoot through him when he sees Taka’s reluctant look as he stares at the messy scrawl, thinking he f*cked this up and now Taka is mad, but then… then Taka mutters awkwardly that he doesn’t have a phone, cheeks bright red. At Mondo’s incredulous stare, he hastily explains that while his apartment does have a landline, since his father likes having a backup in case his cellphone breaks, Taka wouldn’t be able to call Mondo using it since his father checks the phone history as a precaution. And he doesn’t have a cell phone since he’s never really needed one, he’s felt. What gets Mondo the most, though, is how regretful Taka sounds while saying it, like he… like he truly is unhappy that he doesn’t have a reliable way of contacting Mondo. And while he makes sure to tell himself that this isn’t real a thousand more times, he truly wishes that it could be. That Taka truly does feel regret at not being able to talk to him again.

Perhaps it’s that that has him say it, perhaps it something else entirely, but he finds himself blurting out that Taka should still keep the number so he could call if there is an emergency, and he desperately needs someone. Mondo promises, solemn and full of grave intensity, that if Taka ever needs him, he will drop everything and be there. No matter what the need is, he stresses, needing Taka to know how serious he is. And… judging by the bright blush and the dazed look that has returned to Taka’s face… Mondo thinks the kid does.

After that, Mondo knows it’s time to go, knowing that hanging around outside the home of the police chief— chatting with the man’s clearly beaten son— is a recipe for disaster. Still, Mondo doesn’t want to leave, doesn’t want to go back to a world that Taka isn’t a part of. He knows how stupid the thought is, but as he looks into Taka’s bright red, comforting eyes… he knows that if he leaves here, he’ll be leaving behind something truly special. Something he’s been missing for years. Something… something good. Truly and fully good.

But he can’t stay. He doesn’t deserve someone like Taka, and none of this is real, besides. Taka will come out of his shock eventually and realize the error of his ways. And Mondo… Mondo deserves that. He truly, truly does.

And so… despite how much it hurts… despite the fact that he wants so desperately to never leave this perfect and stupidly trusting kid’s side… Mondo forces himself away.

With a tight smile that absolutely does not hide the pain he’s feeling, Mondo absently raises his hand in goodbye and makes his way back to his baby, claiming that he’ll see Taka around sometime, though he absolutely does not believe it. Not unless Taka is there when his father comes to arrest Mondo and his gang, that is. He doesn’t expect Taka to reply anything more than a shaky goodbye in return, maybe sounding a bit regretful like earlier, but nothing special.

That’s why he’s absolutely shocked when he feels a cool hand wrap around his wrist, not tight but firm. Mondo wheels around in shock, eyes wide as he meets Taka’s wide and yet determined ones. He listens with a distracted ear as Taka says that this entire experience has been terrifying and frightening in many, many ways, but that he does not regret meeting Mondo, as meeting him has probably been one of the best experiences of his life. He sounds so earnest and truthful that— for a moment— Mondo almost forgets that it’s not real and almost believes that he could deserve this. And then he… he can only watch, heart pounding out of his chest, when… when Taka leans forward and… a-and…

Kisses his cheek…

Cheeks on fire, Mondo dumbly watches Taka hastily back away, feeling bereft as the kid’s hand leaves his wrist, absolutely dumbfounded and maybe a little turned on. It doesn’t help that Taka’s face is bright red again, and that there’s a small, somewhat pleased looking smile as Taka says lowly that he hopes they will meet again one day, as he would truly hate to never see Mondo again. And Mondo— brain offline and mouth moving without his consent— says that if Taka uses that number, he will.

With that exchange said, Mondo knows it’s time to leave before he spontaneously combusts. He knows that he is well and truly f*cked, so gone for Taka that it’s kind of pathetic, like a grade schooler with his first crush. It should embarrass the hell out of him that he’s acting so foolish for someone he’s known less than half a day.

But as he finally mounts his hog and looks over his shoulder at Taka, seeing the sad smile on his lips and his hand raised in a final goodbye… he realizes it doesn’t. Embarrass him. Like hell would anything have ever worked out between them, their worlds are much too different, but… it was nice, for one evening, to pretend.

He raises his hand in a final farewell, grinning widely at the enchanting kid he had the absolute fortune to meet, and then he’s gone. Driving a bit faster than the speed limit, Mondo peels out of the small parking lot and onto the city streets, heart aching as he leaves the kid behind.

And as he heads back to his hideout, knowing he’ll have to explain to the guys what happened… he has a small hope that he can’t crush, no matter what, that maybe… maybe Taka will call someday. That this— whatever this is— was real. That it wasn’t only him who felt the connection.

It’s ridiculous. And stupid. And absurd.

And yet…

And yet.

~~~ (time skip!)

More than two months have passed since that day in the gang hideout, and yet Taka has forgotten nothing of the encounter. He hasn’t forgotten the pain or the fear, and his nose only just stopped hurting a few weeks ago, but he… he definitely hasn’t forgotten the rest, either. Meeting Mondo. Talking to him. The weird fluttering in his chest whenever they spoke. The desire he’d felt when Mondo had looked at him. The yearning inside that only grew brighter and brighter as the minutes passed. No… no, he’s not forgotten anything.

Nor does he want to. While he can concede that the kidnapping and the torture were not at all something he enjoyed or would ever want to do again, he can’t deny that he doesn’t regret meeting Mondo. Doesn’t regret their conversations, or the gentleness and trust Mondo showed towards him. He doesn’t regret it one bit.

After Mondo had left him outside his apartment, Taka had stood there in a daze for what felt like hours, his lips tingling with the phantom sensation of rough stubble underneath them, mind racing with thoughts and feelings. He’d been exhausted, since he’d not had a good night’s rest in days, but he’d not been able to force himself from that spot for a very long time.

Eventually he had shaken himself out of it and had climbed the stairs to his and his father’s shared apartment, stopping at the front door abruptly when he realized that he didn’t have his keys anymore. One of his kidnappers had taken it with his clothes earlier that day, so he’d been stuck standing outside his apartment, the night air a bit chilly around him.

His father had eventually arrived home from work, his eyes widening immediately upon seeing Taka’s ragged state. He’d started to ask Taka a million questions about what happened, but Taka had tiredly asked if they could just enter the apartment and he could tell his father later, as he was very tired. His father had stared at him with intense concern for a minute, before hurrying him inside, saying that they would be talking about this once Taka woke. Taka had absently agreed and headed straight for his small bedroom, passing out the second his head hit the pillow, despite all the aches and pains he had been feeling.

Morning was better, thankfully, and he’d stumbled out of bed with a tentative plan of action. His father was still home despite how he usually would have been gone by the time Taka awoke. When he asked, the man said that he called out that day, since he needed to ensure that Taka was okay. It made him feel a swell of affection for his father, but he knew he couldn’t tell the man the truth. While part of him wondered why, since he barely knew the man, he knew he couldn’t betray Mondo. Not after all he’d done for him.

And so, he’d told his father that he’d fallen down some stairs, which had led to his disheveled state. He inferred from the way his father spoke the night before that the man hadn’t noticed his three-day absence, which Taka understood. With his busy work schedule, it wouldn’t have surprised him if his father hadn’t even come home at all during those days, maybe even sleeping in his office at the precinct like he’s done numerous times before. So, all he had to do was come up with an explanation for the injuries and not the missing time.

He could tell that his father didn’t believe him, as the man kept asking more and more questions, but while Taka is usually a horrid liar, he’d been adamant this time. He fell down some stairs, causing him to break his nose and bruise his ribs. It was a plausible story, a simple one, and eventually his father begrudgingly accepted it. He knows his father still didn’t believe him, but Taka can be very stubborn when he wants to be, so he figures his father just accepted it for both of their peace of mind.

He had been very anxious about having to explain to his father how he’d lost not only his clothes and shoes, but his keys, bag, wallet, and all of his other daily possessions, knowing that saying such a thing would only immediately bring the suspicion back, though he knew he’d have to eventually. However, he’d not had to worry about that long, as that problem had been solved the very next day.

Taka had been on his way back from the library— where he had a part time job for the break— wearing an old pair of dress shoes since his boots were MIA, when he’d seen a fairly large package sitting on his welcome mat that was addressed to him. Confused, he’d brought the thing inside and entered his room, where he immediately set about opening the box curiously. He’d never had a package addressed to him before, so it was honestly a little exciting.

And then he’d felt his heart stutter in his chest when he’d seen all of his things neatly placed inside, even his wallet (with more yen inside than he’d left it, he later realized), keys, and clothes. The clothes had even been freshly laundered— the stains and tears mended too— and his boots had been shined. It had overwhelmed him for a minute, tears falling down his cheeks as he touched the things he’d thought were lost forever, the few personal items he had to his name.

It was then that he’d noticed the note tucked in the bottom of the box, almost like whoever placed it there didn’t want it to be found. But it had been, and the words written inside…

‘Thought you’d like your things back. Take care.’

That was it. No signature, nothing. But Taka had immediately recognized the writing as the same as the one on the piece of paper he had stored inside the box that he keeps his most treasured possessions. And he knew exactly who had brought him his belongings back. It had been a bit more overwhelming than he’d care to admit.

With that crisis solved, Taka had focused on getting back into the swing of his everyday life. While his father may not have noticed his absence, his boss and coworkers had, and to his surprise they were all worried about him when they saw his bruises and broken nose.

He’d quickly told them the same thing he told his father, claiming to his boss that he was sorry he’d not called and informed her of his absence, but that he’d been doing his best to heal and hadn’t thought to make the call. The elderly woman had immediately told him it was fine and that he didn’t have to worry about it, even offering to give him the rest of the week off— paid— so he can take care of himself and heal properly. That had also been overwhelming, and he’d had to fight back tears as he explained that he wanted to work, since he hates inactivity. It had taken a little convincing, but she’d agreed to let him work, though she kept a close eye on him for weeks after, still watching even after the worst of his wounds healed.

The days had been hard, though, and the nights even harder. Even after his body stopped aching so badly, he couldn’t help but prod at the pain in his mind. And he doesn’t even mean the pain of having pretty much been tortured and starved for two days. But… the pain of being away from Mondo.

Taka isn’t stupid. Right? Even while it had all been occurring, Taka had wondered if what he was feeling was real. If he actually cared so much about this ragged biker that he’d met under the worst of circumstances mere hours before. It had all seemed so farfetched and fantastical to him that part of him had been waiting the entire time for the other shoe to drop. For Mondo to suddenly yell ‘ha! Gotcha!’ and change on a dime. He doesn’t know why he’d told the biker his home address knowing how stupid it was, but he’d felt so tired and so alone at that moment that he hadn’t even seriously considered the danger involved in telling Mondo his home. Where he and his father— the chief of police— lived.

He’d realized it later, though. The next day, his heart and mind racing with every that had happened. And despite the buoyancy he still felt when he thought of the biker gang leader, he’d also felt trepidation and a hint of fear at the thought of Mondo using the information against him, spending the entire first day panicking silently to himself. And part of the next day.

But then he’d gotten the package. And then a week passed. And then two. And then a month. And then a second month. And at no point at all did Taka face any possible retaliation from Mondo. No hint of gangs loitering around his apartment or harassing his father. Nothing.

Well… not nothing, actually. Because sometimes… sometimes, on odd days, there would be a package left at his front door addressed to him, with no return label. He’d bring the box to his room with a racing heart and open it, finding a random assortment of goods each time. Sometimes they were sweets, like fine chocolate or assorted traditional mochi with sweet and savory fillings. Other times they’d be practical items, such as a fancy notebook or a nice fountain pen. And sometimes… sometimes, there would be DVDs in the box, for movies he’d always heard about but never seen. Receipts would accompany each box, proving the items were paid for Taka assumes, though there would never be a note, no matter how hard Taka looked. And oh, how he looked.

He knows who sends the boxes, though. Of course he does. He’s never had anyone who would send him things, and given that there’s no return address or stamps, he knows the boxes were delivered in person. Plus, they always mysteriously arrived on days he would get home from work before his father, though that’s a little less impressive considering how often such a thing is the case. And finally… the writing on the box is the same as from the note and from the phone number. Which is the most damning evidence, really.

Part of him thinks that he should find it creepy that a criminal biker is sending him gifts, but strangely, he doesn’t. Especially not when he remembers Mondo’s muttered comment after Taka had remarked that he had never been given a gift before. Instead it just makes him feel… warm. And remembered. And appreciated.

It also reminds him of the number Mondo had given him, which he has long since memorized. It makes his heart pound to think of, recalling the moment he’d been given the number with complete clarity. Part of him longs to call just to hear Mondo’s voice and talk to him again, but part of him is afraid to do that. What if… what if Mondo doesn’t want that? Or if he gets annoyed at Taka calling for a non-emergency, even if Mondo had told him he could? Or if it turns out it has all been a big hoax and Mondo doesn’t actually want to be friends with him? While the gifts say otherwise, his lifelong rejection from every possible friend says yes.

So, he hasn’t. Called. Every time he’s headed to the pay phone at the end of the street, intent on calling, he’d get nervous and chicken out. This has happened no less than twenty times, with it once happening twice in one day. Taka wants to call, truly he does! He’s just… scared.

But today. Today, he has decided that no matter what… he will call. Even if Mondo doesn’t pick up, or if he doesn’t respond, or if he rejects him… he has to call today.

It’s his 20th birthday, after all. And while his father had planned on doing something special today, taking Taka out to a restaurant they could only barely afford, the man had unfortunately been called into work for an emergency. Leaving Taka alone in his room, his chest aching fiercely with loneliness. He doesn’t blame his father for leaving, no! But… it hurts sitting in this room alone, thinking so desperately of one person, fearing rejection but thinking that just this once… the potential reward would be worth the risk.

It’s still hard for him to force his legs to move. To stand up, hold his weight, and make the trip to the nearest pay phone. His heart races at just the thought of it, but he knows he’s being ridiculous. He is not a quitter and he’s never run from anything in his life. Yes, perhaps Mondo will reject him, but… he has to at least try.

After about half an hour of useless deliberation, Taka is finally able to force himself to stand and march out of his apartment. His legs are shaking horribly, the shaking getting worse and worse the closer he gets to the pay phone, but he refuses to stop.

Finally, he reaches the pay phone and hesitates only a second before he’s putting his yen in and dialing the number he’s long since memorized. His heart is racing fast as he hears the phone ring, his mind blank. Part of him wishes that Mondo won’t answer, so that he can just leave a message and leave it at that.

But that hope is dashed when he hears someone pick up the phone, and then a familiar voice is sounding, though Taka is far too tense to comprehend the words said to him. It takes him a moment to realize he’s not taken a breath since he arrived at the pay phone and his lungs are screaming at him in protest. He manages to take a huge inhale of breath, though he’s still feeling very nervous and almost afraid. Not of Mondo, no, no. But… of himself. That he’ll ruin this like he’s always ruined everything. That Mondo will realize how uninteresting and worthless he is and won’t want to talk to him. That… that what happened two months ago was just a fluke, that it wasn’t real, and that Mondo wouldn’t want to get that back.

Finally, after another moment passes, he hears the voice call again, worry thick within it. And Taka is finally able to comprehend what the voice is saying.

“Taka…? Is, uh… is that you? Not many people have this number, so, uh… sh*t. Are ya alright, man? D’ya… d’ya need me ta come get ya or somethin’? ‘Cuz I can if ya want… uh… sh*t, is this Taka? Uh… if ya could say somethin’, that would be, ya know… appreciated…”

That jolts Taka out of his daze and he finds himself stammering out a greeting, his cheeks red again. He hears Mondo let out a small laugh, greeting him with so much unbridled affection that it makes Taka’s chest ache. Before he can force the lump in his throat down, Mondo continues, his voice a lot more serious and concerned as he asks him again if he needs help, if he’s hurt, if he needs Mondo to drive out to him. The questions almost overwhelm Taka, making him feel terrible for worrying the biker for something so simple, so stupid. But he can’t just hang up now, not without worrying Mondo more.

And so, voice trembling, he assures Mondo that no, nothing is wrong, he’s okay and doesn’t need assistance. His throat gets thick again before he can explain his actual reason for calling, forcing him to peter out awkwardly, his heart racing painfully in his chest. He then hears Mondo speak again, his voice soft and soothing as he reassures Taka that it’s okay, he doesn’t have to be nervous, it’s all fine, and Taka can tell him why he called if he wants, but if his reason is that he just wanted to talk, that’s fine too. That almost makes Taka more nervous, but he swallows it down and pushes forward.

Voice still trembling, Taka explains haltingly that it’s his 20th birthday and he has found himself unfortunately alone. His father is working, and he never has had any friends, and he was wondering if Mondo wanted to… to hang out. Or something. Taka gets nervous around then and begins babbling that Mondo doesn’t have to if he doesn’t want to, that he’s okay being alone, he’s been alone most his life so it’s fine. He would hate to impose upon Mondo and if he’s busy he understands completely and he isn’t entirely sure why he called, he hates being a bother, he’s sorry, he-

Mondo cuts him off around then, his voice soft with something almost fond deep in the tone, mixed with something that sounds sad. Mondo says that he’d be honored to spend Taka’s birthday with him, since Taka had helped make his birthday one of the best he’s ever had, and he could only hope to return the favor. The honest words make Taka’s face flush even hotter, his breath shaky and his heart clenched.

Taka shakily agrees and makes plans for Mondo to meet him outside his apartment, since his father isn’t there anyway. Mondo promises that he’ll be there in twenty before hanging up with a warm ‘see ya soon, Taka.’

Taka walks back to his apartment in a daze, and once he gets there, he takes a heavy seat on the front stoop, wringing his hands anxiously. He’s incidentally dressed in the same outfit he’d worn the day he’d been kidnapped, his usual white suit and red tie that he always wears when at university and his internship and doesn’t bother to change out of during break. This suit has numerous stitches in it, and it doesn’t look very professional anymore, but he can’t help but like it regardless. He hadn’t consciously put it on this morning, but… well.

It feels like both a second and a millennium have passed when he hears the unfamiliar roar of a motorcycle pull up before him. His head whips up instantly, heart racing, a gasp escaping his lips when he sees a now familiar person straddling the powerful vehicle.

Scrambling up and over to the bike (he knows Mondo doesn’t like him calling it that, but he dislikes calling it a ‘hog,’ so they’ll just have to agree to disagree), he tries to think of what to say, what to do, but finds himself coming up blank.

Luckily, Mondo breaks the silence by clearing his throat and awkwardly asking what Taka wants to do. Unluckily, Taka has no idea whatsoever. He hadn’t really expected Mondo to actually show up, to be honest, so he isn’t sure what to do now that he’s here. He feels very awkward and regretful as he tells Mondo this, and then he apologizes softly for wasting the biker’s time, sure that Mondo will be mad at him for making him come all this way for nothing.

However… to his absolute shock, Mondo doesn’t get upset. Or even slightly unhappy. Instead, all he does is hum, tilt his head, and ask Taka if he likes going to the park. When Taka stammers that yes, he loves the park, Mondo grins and tilts his head towards his bike, clearly indicating that Taka should get on. Which he then verbalizes, telling Taka that he knows the perfect place for them to go.

Taka is only a little reluctant, not wanting to ride without a helmet (while he’d surprisingly enjoyed the last ride with Mondo, he would never have wanted to do it sans helmet), but to his surprise yet again, Mondo unclips something from his bike and hands it to Taka. It takes him a second to realize it’s a helmet. But he can tell immediately that it’s not the same helmet as the last time. This one is bright red, for one thing, and looks to be a bit bigger. When Taka looks at Mondo in question, the biker sheepishly mentions that he’d gotten Taka a new helmet on the offside chance they ever met up again, this one being a size bigger, which Mondo guessed would fit better.

The idea that Mondo cared enough to get him his own helmet, just for his own comfort flusters Taka greatly, and he feels the stirring in his heart he’d first felt two months ago and hasn’t stopped since. He’s never felt so much for another person before and it’s making him feel very flushed. Especially when he catches sight of the gentle smile Mondo has on his lips, his eyes like liquid silver as he looks at him. It… it’s very nice, though…

After a moment of stunned silence, Taka shakily puts the helmet on, noticing immediately that it fits much, much better. He then carefully gets on the bike behind Mondo, the process a lot easier now that he knows sort of what he’s doing. And now that his ribs aren’t aching fiercely, of course.

Once he’s mounted, Mondo waits a moment while Taka gets comfortable, before telling Taka he’s going to move, Taka nodding his consent. He still feels a bit terrified when the bike begins moving, but at least this time he doesn’t scream like a child. He just holds tight to Mondo, moving his body with the biker’s, both enjoying the ride and also kind of hating it. It does wonders to help calm his nerves about inviting Mondo over to ‘hang out’, though.

They arrive at Mondo’s mystery location about half an hour later, Taka looking eagerly at the decent sized park he’s never been to before. As Mondo parks, Taka looks at the green fields and the groups of families and friends that walk around, enjoying the last day before the school semester starts up again. Taka has never really celebrated his birthday, considering his father’s busy schedule and his perpetual lack of friends. Not to mention how it always occurs the day before the first day of the fall quarter, leaving it a bit forgettable. But as he stands here with Mondo, looking at the busy park before him… for the first time, he almost feels happy it’s his birthday. If only because it gives him the excuse to enjoy Mondo’s highly pleasing company again.

Mondo gently touches Taka’s hand to draw him back to reality, which Taka does with a smile. Mondo begins to chat about random things as they start to move through the park, like he had the previous time, and the conversation feels as easy to Taka now as it did back then, putting him immediately at ease. During the drive, the anxiety and fear Taka had been feeling had waned, and now all he can feel is happiness and brightness, excitement filling him at whatever it is Mondo has planned for them.

They meander through the park for a bit, and at one point Mondo mentions that Daiya used to take him here when he was little, the pair playing and rough housing whilst on the fields. They even brought their late dog— Chuck, an incredibly smart Maltese that Mondo is still adorably fond of, Taka learns— here all the time for his walks.

After a while their wandering takes them past an ice cream stand and Mondo asks Taka if he’d like one. Taka declines with a stammer, insisting that he couldn’t possibly impose on Mondo like that, though he greatly appreciates the offer.

Mondo, though, just snorts and deadpans that it’s really not an issue to buy a ‘f*ckin’ ice cream.’ Taka wrinkles his nose at the vulgarity, but after a bit of back and forth, Mondo finally pointing out it’s literally his birthday, Taka finally concedes and asks for a vanilla ice cream, since it’s his favorite flavor. Something about that makes Mondo laugh, and Taka is afraid at first that he’s laugh at him, a measure of hurt rising within him at the thought. But then he sees the softness in Mondo’s eyes when he looks at him, the gentle tilt to his lips, and Taka realizes that no. Mondo isn’t making fun of him. He just… finds it funny, he supposes.

They reach the front of the line before Mondo can say anything, and Taka just listens as the biker orders himself a chocolate soft serve ice cream with sprinkles, mini gummy bears, and a cherry on top, before he orders Taka the exact same but in vanilla. Seeing Taka’s displeased pout at the biker ordering more than a simple ice cream for him, Mondo smirks and gently nudges Taka’s shoulder with his, saying that Taka should learn to take it easy sometime. Live a little. Enjoy the small things.

“Like vanilla ice cream with sprinkles, mini gummy bears, and a cherry on top?” Taka questions skeptically.

Mondo smiles, bright and happy and clear, taking Taka’s breath away.

“Hell yeah man! Exactly like vanilla ice cream with sprinkles, mini gummy bears, an’ a f*ckin’ cherry on the g*dd*mn top. Now enjoy yer g*dd*mn ice cream, ya g*dd*mn nerd.”

The vender gives them their respective ice creams before Taka can reply back with a witty rejoinder. Though perhaps that’s for the better, because Taka’s brain is currently offline as butterflies erupt in his stomach. During their last encounter, Taka hadn’t been able to escape the nagging thought that— despite the unfortunate circumstances they’d found themselves meeting under— parts of it had felt almost like… well… a date. And it had been ridiculous at the time, they’d barely known one another, and they did have the unfortunate circumstances surrounding their meeting. But still… he’d not been able to push it away no matter how hard he tried.

But now? Right now, holding onto a quickly melting ice cream as Mondo begins talking about his childhood with his brother, detailing how much they always enjoyed getting ice cream and wandering about on a hot summer day like this one? The feeling of this feels like a dateincreases by a tenfold and Taka is left reeling on how to continue on without making a complete fool of himself.

Because… well. He can’t lie to himself. He likes Mondo. A lot. It’s not quite infatuation and definitely not love, but it… it’s the start of something. Something he thinks could be very nice if they let it.

However, he tells himself forcefully, he doesn’t even know if Mondo is into guys that way. And even if he is, there is no guarantee he’d be into Taka specifically. Taka isn’t exactly the easiest person to get along with, he knows. He’s very opinionated and likes things to go his way exactly. And while he’s been trying to not do it with Mondo, he knows that once he gets started, he can talk for hours nonstop about certain topics that interest him, like politics or ethics or morality. And he’s been told so many times that it’s annoying and aggravating, so he just… he knows he’s not an easy person to get close to. Even if the thought hurts. And oh… does it hurt…

During Taka’s distraction, the pair had still been walking, and it isn’t until they arrive that Taka realizes Mondo had had a destination in mind. But as they reach the mid-sized pond that is bracketed by trees with a bridge that goes over it, with koi fish in the water and ducks floating leisurely atop it, Taka is forced to stop his restless worries and focus solely on the beauty before him.

After a minute of awed staring, Taka hears Mondo chuckle warmly, before a warm hand brushes the back of the hand not holding the small amount of ice cream that he still had left. Taka turns to face Mondo then and sees a warm and tender look on the biker’s face, making him look much younger than he usually does. It makes Taka’s heart squeeze to see, the baffling affection nearly overwhelming him. He can only hope his face isn’t completely betraying him, but knowing his luck…

Either way, Mondo doesn’t mention it and instead just places his hand on Taka’s mid-back to direct him towards an empty bench before the pond so they can watch the koi and ducks swim together for a bit. Taka ignores the racing of his heart and smiles shakily as he follows Mondo, his back tingling not unpleasantly.

They sit beside one another on the relatively small bench, so close they’re almost touching, but not quite. It drives Taka up the wall, his skin prickling with goose flesh and shivers each time either of them moves. It’s quiet between them, Mondo happily finishing his ice cream cone as he watches the ducks swim lazily by, and Taka has to admit that it’s nice. Very nice. Nicer than anything else has ever been in his life, save for every limited interaction he’s had with the biker.

It feels too good to be true, honestly. All of it. That someone like Mondo would willingly want to spend time with someone like him. Even discounting his unfortunate habit of being overly blunt and borderline rude at times, he is probably the textbook definition of a ‘goody two-shoes,’ while Mondo is the textbook definition of a ‘bad boy.’ Not that he thinks Mondo is bad! Not at all! Just… his demeanor and profession. The two don’t really seem to have much in common. Even their special interests are divergent, though Taka finds himself strangely captivated by how enthusiastic Mondo is about all of the things he enjoys. But just… why, he has to wonder? Why did he give him his number back then, and why… why did he show up to meet him today? Just… why?

Unable to hold the question in any longer, Taka blurts it out, no decorum at all, and he feels his cheeks flood with his mortification at his lack of social grace. However, Mondo still doesn’t seem to mind. He just hums thoughtfully, clearly mulling it over seriously. That’s another thing Taka really likes about Mondo, he thinks pensively to himself. The biker always seems to take the things Taka says seriously, not dismissing them out of hand as something irrelevant, like so many other people do. It feels… nice. Like he’s actually being seen and heard for once. It’s strange but… but nice.

But then Mondo is talking, his voice musing and contemplative. And Taka… he isn’t really sure what to make of it.

“Huh. Why did I show up? I mean… I dunno, man. Ya called. An’ I said I’d come if ya called, didn’t I? An’ ‘sides. Yer, uh… sh*t, I dunno. Nice ta talk ta or somethin’ like that. Let me f*ckin’ ramble ‘bout random *ss bullsh*t, not seemin’ ta mind. An’…” Mondo pauses here, seeming to collect his thoughts. After a few moments, he continues. “I dunno. You, uh… ya were the first person ta really say ya believed I could actu’ly be a f*ckin’ carpenter… ya know? Never got ‘round ta tellin’ Dai ‘bout that ‘fore he, uh… y-ya know. An’ like hell could I tell that sh*t ta the gang. They’d think I’d gotten weak or somethin’. In fact, think yer the first person I ever told I even was interested in woodwork ta begin with. So… sh*t. I really don’t know, man. Just… s’easy ta talk ta ya, I guess. Kinda f*cked up when ya think ‘bout it, considerin’ how we met an’ all, so I try not ta. Think ‘bout it. An’… an’ if ya like talkin’ ta me, too, then… heh. I dunno. Works out. I guess. ‘Less ya don’t like talkin’ ta me… uh… in which case I can always stop… heh…”

The mumbled words make Taka’s chest ache even more then, and tears start to fill his eyes despite himself. This worries Mondo a lot and the biker immediately starts back tracking and trying to rectify things. Taka cuts him off before he can get too impassioned, though, and explains that he’s not crying because he’d upset, but that he’s just a little overwhelmed. Because… because he likes talking to Mondo, too. And he’s just not used to people actually enjoying his company.

That seems to upset Mondo, as the biker is now frowning at him, eyebrows furrowed and eyes full of an emotion Taka can’t begin to explain. And then Mondo says that it’s their loss, as he finds talking to Taka to be quite enjoyable, and his company is more than appreciated too. It overwhelms Taka again and this time a couple tears slip out, to his intense mortification. Thankfully Mondo doesn’t mention it. He just smiles at him gently before looking away over the pond, the silence between them strangely not awkward or tense, but instead soothing and peaceful. Tranquil. It’s honestly so, so nice…

Minutes pass in their silent reveries, their ice creams long finished but still remaining in place.

Finally, after what Taka estimates is about five minutes pass, he hears Mondo talk again. And this time, his voice is very soft. Softer than before, even. So soft it takes Taka a second to decipher the fact that Mondo had just mentioned quietly that he’s been thinking more and more about quitting the gang recently. About retiring and moving on with his life. He isn’t entirely sure what he’ll do next, as he knows he doesn’t have the skills needed to go directly into carpentry— even if he didn’t have a criminal record— and all of his contacts and connections are related to the gang in some way or another. For over a decade, all he’s known has been his gang. What is he without it, Mondo wonders aloud, his tone wistful and a little scared.

It makes Taka feel deeply for Mondo, and while he’s never been the best at comfort, he knows roughly the mechanics of it. And he knows he wants to try. So, despite his misgivings as to his comfort abilities, he hesitantly rests a hand on Mondo’s shoulder and states that if Mondo really wants to do something new with his life and is willing to put in the effort, then Taka knows he will be able to do it. And… Taka hesitates here for a second, before plowing on and saying that if Mondo needs help, that Taka will be more than willing to provide assistance. While Taka doesn’t really know much about carpentry either, he knows that his father has a lot of connections thanks to being the police chief, and that he may be able to help Mondo find cheap courses that teach woodworking and carpentry, if Mondo would like.

Mondo stares at Taka for several seconds in stunned silence, before muttering that he doesn’t have to do that, that Mondo doesn’t want to inconvenience Taka more than he has. Taka just smiles in response, shaking his head firmly. Then he says that he likes helping people, and that if he could help Mondo out in any way, then he would be honored.

Taka then pauses again, before blushing brightly. He visibly debates what he wants to say, but ultimately decides on saying it. Hesitantly and very awkwardly, Taka then offers to allow Mondo to stay with him in his apartment he rents using his scholarship and internship money near his university, about an hour away from their hometown, if he needs a place to stay that isn’t with his gang. He hastily says that it’s only a one bedroom, but that the couch is a pullout, and that Taka wouldn’t mind if he wanted to stay. While he tries to disguise it, Taka can’t quite force down the hope and eagerness of his offer. He doesn’t even know why he is so keen on the idea, he barely knows Mondo besides, but… something about it seems right to Taka. Plus… he does always love to help people…

At first, Taka is sure that Mondo will reject him out of hand. He can see the hesitation on Mondo’s face, so clear that even Taka has no problem recognizing it. But before Taka has a chance to take back the offer and stammer out something to make things less awkward, he hears Mondo softly ask if Taka truly means that, saying that he barely knows Mondo and what little he does know can’t be good.

Taka rejects that idea, though, shaking his head firmly again. He ignores all his uncertainties for the moment and says that the things he has heard about Mondo don’t matter, as hearsay is very rarely accurate. After all, there are many people who claim that Taka is a fraud and a sham, that his efforts in morality and ethics are lies, when Taka knows for certain they are not. And besides. While they’ve only known one another for two partial days, Taka likes to think himself a good judge of character. And he… he thinks Mondo is a good person who deserves to have a second chance. A fresh start if you will. A way to get away from his old life if he so chooses.

Taka then says that it doesn’t have to be a permanent solution, that Mondo can stay with him temporarily until he finds something better. And that the offer is always there if Mondo wants it.

Mondo seems a bit overwhelmed at the kind offer, as he spends a full minute staring out at the pond, hands twitching slightly at his sides. Taka jumps a little when he feels Mondo grab his hand, but he doesn’t pull away. He just turns to face Mondo with wide eyes, and watches in stunned silence as Mondo leans closer and closer slowly. His eyes seem to be telling Taka something, but Taka has no idea what, as frozen as his brain feels. He still doesn’t pull back, though, as a strange sort of anticipation rises within him. And then… then…

Mondo stops about a millimeter from his face, eyes bright and captivating. Taka has one second to realize what is about to happen when… when…

Mondo kisses him.

It’s sweet. And gentle. And is barely a kiss at all, just a brush of lips, but it’s far more than Taka has ever had, and he’s fairly certain he’s forgotten how to breathe, honestly.

After a moment, Mondo pulls back, Taka’s eyes opening back up (he doesn’t recall closing them, but clearly, he must have, he thinks in a daze) and seeing the hesitant look on Mondo’s face.

“That change yer mind?” Mondo asks him breathily, his words shaking and weak. And Taka… his brain is still very sluggish, but he knows what his answer will be.

“No, Mondo… n-not at all…”

Mondo begins to smile brightly then. It starts off small before consuming his entire face, his eyes shining with it. It makes Taka feel bolder than he ever has before, and before he can talk himself out of it, he’s leaning forward and pressing a soft— if a bit clumsy— kiss to Mondo’s lips in return. Pulling back a hair, Taka shyly confesses that he’s been dreaming about doing that for a while now. Just as shy, Mondo laughs and confesses that he has, too.

But then Mondo is sighing, pulling away from Taka completely and looking back out over the pond, a pensive look on his face. The expression makes Taka nervous, but he says nothing as he also looks out over the pond, fidgeting with his hands.

After a while, Mondo starts to talk again, his voice soft and shaky as he claims this whole situation is ‘kinda f*cked, ain’t it?’ They met while Taka was kidnapped all because of Mondo and his lifestyle. How on earth could they ever have anything more than that, after how they first met? Is such a thing even possible?

Taka contemplates the question, biting his lip anxiously. After a few moments of thought, Taka hesitantly replies that he doesn’t think the way they met should matter. No, he can’t say it was a particularly good time for him, but he knows himself well enough. If what he was feeling was just manufactured due to that situation, he doesn’t think it would feel so real. But honestly, he doesn’t know. Maybe he’s wrong. Maybe this is all manufactured emotion due to a bad situation. But… wouldn’t it be worth it to at least try? To see if something could work out between them?

Mondo contemplates that for a while, the pair staring out at the pond in shared silence. Taka is nervous about Mondo’s reply, he has no idea what any of this even means, but he… he’s willing to find out. If Mondo wants to as well… he’s more than willing to find out.

Finally, long minutes later, Mondo speaks. He gives one firm nod of his head and claims that, you know what? Why not. Why not try. It will take him a little while to get all of his affairs in order, but that if Taka wants to try and is willing to help… then why not? Mondo doesn’t have any active warrants out for his arrest, and he’s been training his new second in command for a couple years now, and he thinks the kid is ready to take over fully. He… he could get out, Mondo says softly, his expression a bit lost, but also a bit excited. Taka hesitantly grabs his hand, and Mondo twines their fingers together, smiling at him hopefully.

Taka doesn’t know where this all is going to lead. If there will be a happy ending for the two of them or not. He doesn’t know if they will work out, or if their emotions are false after all. He has no clue whatsoever what is going to happen next.

What he does know, though, he thinks as he looks at Mondo— who is smiling softly back at him, his lavender eyes liquid soft, his expression so tender it makes him ache… what he does know is that he is more than willing to try. To try this thing out. To help Mondo get away from his past and help him move towards the future. There are no guarantees in life, and their situation is a very unique and shaky one. But… but god, is he willing to try.

And at the end of the day…

He supposes that’s all that matters.

THE END.

~~~

(Okay, so I'd been working on a kind of epilogue for this, but I never got around to finishing it before things got really busy for me. But I want this out in the world, so... here you all go! A mini epilogue.)

Mondo’s POV:

It’s several years later and it is made clear that Mondo and Taka have been together for a while. Taka is hurrying around their room trying to get dressed in a fancy suit and tie, frazzled over something, while Mondo watches on fondly. After a minute of this, Mondo saunters over to Taka and wraps his arms around him tightly, muttering that it’s okay. They have over an hour until the party. It’s okay.

Taka sighs heavily, tension still within him, but fading as he holds Mondo in return, resting his head on Mondo’s broad chest. The pair stay like that for several minutes, just existing together.

Mondo muses about their relationship, about how it has progressed over the years. How it wasn’t easy at first and how living together made their tentative relationship a lot more complicated. But eventually they made it work. Taka was able to find Mondo some relatively inexpensive carpentry classes, and Mondo found he truly adored the art. He’d always figured he would, as he secretly loved watching those house building shows on TV, but he hadn’t realized just how much he would love working with wood. He was also good at it, to his extreme shock, and within a year he’d been able to find work at a small carpentry shop not too far from where Taka was staying.

Taka was always very supportive of his dream and spent many nights listening patiently as Mondo would ramble on and on about the things that he learned that day, or the things he made. The apartment they shared (Mondo insisting he pay for half after he stayed there for free for a month) was soon full of Mondo’s projects, Taka so proud of Mondo and all he achieved. Mondo is even currently building them a house to live in together, the pair having bought the land earlier that year.

Mondo was supportive with Taka, too, always willing to listen when Taka would express frustration at his internship with the local city council. Taka was often unhappy with how slow the system worked, wishing he could do more to help people and that he didn’t have to worry about bureaucracy all the time. Mondo would mostly listen and hum in commiseration whenever Taka would get on one of his rants, but a couple times he’d distract Taka from his troubles by kissing him sweetly, something he learned early on was a very effective distraction. As the years passed, Taka moved up in the city government and now has a fairly high position where he can do a lot more good for the general populace, though it was still very taxing on Taka. And as such, Mondo’s means of distraction got a lot less chaste, he thinks with a smirk.

Their relationship, Mondo contemplates, has always been a strange one, honestly. Especially at first. They never really spoke about it or their growing feelings those first several months. They just… kept going and learned as they went. There had been some bumps and hiccups here and there, some fights that seemed inevitable at the time but that probably could have been prevented in retrospect, but for the most part… they just worked. It would often baffle Mondo, the idea that they could work so seamlessly despite being so different on the surface, but he never really questioned it. Why look a gift horse in the mouth, right? As the years passed, they grew closer and closer, and at one point they started calling one another ‘kareshi,’ never really talking about it but knowing that it felt right. They moved into a bigger apartment together, began making financial and life decisions together, and throughout it all, they remained happy together.

All in all, things aren’t perfect for them. They have their problems like any couple does. For one, Taka’s father is still not exactly pleased at their relationship, but he’d given up trying to break them up years ago, to both Taka and Mondo’s relief. For another, their personalities are honestly very similar despite the differences on the surface, and that sometimes leads to some epic bumping of heads. But that doesn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things, does it? Not when— more often than not— they are very, very happy together. Happier than either of them ever expected they’d be. Mondo has even been contemplating buying Taka a ring, though it still is not legal for two men to marry in Japan. Just… as a promise. To show Taka he wants that. That even though their relationship progressed unconventionally… he still wants it.

Mondo pulls back from his embrace with Taka, smiling when Taka lets out a soft whine of displeasure. To placate him, Mondo kisses Taka gently, even though they need to get going soon.

#Ask Answers #Technically ha #Sorry this took so long anon!! #I hope you're still here ha #And I hope you like this 💜

[beccascribbles]

when oikawa reveals that he is going to become naturalised, you just cannot picture how much longer your relationship could last.

warnings - some swearing, angst

word count - 2.8k

If you were honest with yourself, you were expecting it. You were expecting the phone call that day and you knew before he even spoke a word that it would be bad news, for you at least. The pause he took before speaking, the quick breath of air he sucked in to steel himself. You picked up on it all.

“y/n, I’m not coming back to Japan.”

Those words that Oikawa uttered should have shocked you. The sad truth was that they did not. You had seen the truth before he had worked up the courage to tell you. It was clear from the smile on his face whenever you visited him in Argentina, the carefree attitude, the way he would almost drag you to all his favourite spots. He was so much lighter, less weighed down by pressure over there. In Japan, he was different. Whenever he came to visit you, it always seemed like something was weighing on him, no matter how happy he acted. You had shared these fears with Iwaizumi, the one other person you were sure would understand. He had simply told you to let things take their natural course.

This was their natural course.

“I’m going to try and become an Argentine citizen,” he continued. “Some of my teammates said they’d help me with all the paperwork.”

Three years. He had only been living there for three years and he had already decided that was the place he wanted to live for the rest of his life. You felt your fingers clench on the phone. If Oikawa would be living out there permanently, would never be coming back to Japan, you just could not see how this relationship would be feasible. It was hard enough already trying to match your schedules around each other, booking flights when you were struggling to pay for university.

With only a year left until you completed your studies, you had already received a job offer from a top newspaper company in Tokyo. After years of working hard to achieve the job you wanted, you could not throw it all away for a boy, not even if you were in love with him. You opened your mouth, about to express these feelings to Oikawa, but he stopped you, his words coming out in a rush. “Don’t say anything. You’re visiting in a week, right? Tell me then.”

It went against your better judgement, but you agreed, allowing him to have this, allowing you to have a week to sort through your feelings on the subject. Because of how much you loved him, you wanted to use the right words, tell him in a way that would create the least pain. Unfortunately, it was inevitable that pain would be felt in some way, no matter how the conversation went.

A week later, upon your arrival in Argentina, he had commanded that you do not talk about it until the end of your visit. Not wanting to tarnish the rest of your visit with hurt and pain, you had agreed. On Oikawa’s part, it was clear by the spark in his eyes that his request was directly linked to something he had planned. The secretive phone calls you walked in on were a clear sign that he was planning something. It was something you were uncertain of, something you were unsure that you wanted to take place in the first place.

It was with a nervous grin that, on your last day, he handed you a garment bag and asked for you to wear it, using the excuse that you had not packed any outfits befitting a fancy dinner. Though you had quirked an eyebrow at him, you had put it on without complaint. Oikawa truly knew you too well. He had picked out an outfit that perfectly accentuated all your assets while drawing focus away from the areas he knew you were insecure about. When you walked out of the room and gave him a little twirl, he had simply grinned at you, the pure joy in his gaze conveying the love he felt for you. He wrapped his arms around your waist, brushing a kiss against your lips. “You look beautiful. I think it’s time I go and change.”

“Don’t take too long,” you teased, poking his cheek lightly. He chuckled in response, squeezing you around the waist in a brief hug. He loved these domestic moments with you, although he had to admit you in evening wear and him in joggers and a t-shirt was quite a dichotomy, one he intended on correcting.

“Anything’s quick compared to you,” he grinned, pulling away from you to disappear into his bedroom, where a suit that perfectly complemented your outfit was waiting for him.

Despite the fancy outfits, he was not planning on taking you to a fancy restaurant. Instead, he had already arranged for a takeout, the first meal you had shared in Argentina, to be waiting on the beach for you, at the spot you had declared had the best view of the ocean. He could not argue with you on that fact, and often found himself gravitating towards it when he found himself missing you too strongly.

With a dramatic flair, he threw the door open and strutted towards you, twirling once he reached you so you could admire him from all angles. Oikawa in a suit always made your thoughts drift. This time was no different. You approached him, reaching up to adjust his tie, smoothing your hands over his chest before speaking, “You look amazing, Tooru.”

“As per usual,” he smirked, pretending to flick his hair over one shoulder. Lightly, you smacked his chest, a wide grin overtaking your features.

“You are so full of yourself,” you giggled, leaning up to press your lips against his. You supposed you could indulge him for the night before you had a serious talk in the morning. Besides, he always made you feel so happy, so giddy, that focusing on negative emotions and thoughts was almost impossible.

With a wide grin on your face, you walked with him along the streets of Argentina, barely aware that you had passed the area where most of the fancy restaurants waited for rich patrons to grace their doorstep. Before you knew it, you were sliding off your shoes to dig your bare feet into the soft sand. Oikawa’s hand was warm in your own, a comforting presence as you walked along the beach together. You were wrapped up in the moment, gazing out at the sea as it lapped against the shore, occasionally looking over at Oikawa with a wide grin. It was clear that he was preoccupied, his free hand slipping into his pocket on occasion to thumb at whatever was inside, his eyebrows furrowed as if he was reciting a speech in his head. The furrow only disappeared when you would catch his gaze, his face morphing into a joyous expression to match your own.

“Tooru, where are we…” You trailed off as your gazed settled on something in the distance. A picnic blanket was spread over the sand, lanterns weighing it down on each corner, takeout spread out tastefully in the middle. As you approached slowly, hand falling out of Oikawa’s, Oikawa made eye contact with a teammate who had prepared the area for you. He shot him a quick thumbs up, his friend nodding in response and wishing Oikawa ‘good luck’ in a voice just low enough to escape detection. You turned to face Oikawa, mouth agape. “How? When? Why?”

He took you by both hands, leaning down to press his forehead against your own. A small smile curled at the corners of his mouth. “I wanted to do something special for you, y/n. I wanted to do something to show you how much you mean to me, how thankful I am to have you in my life. I don’t want our journey together to end, not when I’m preparing to start a new life… a new life I want you to be included in. I want us to live together here. I want to be able to wake up with you beside me, to call you my wife. I just… I love you so much.”

He began to sink to the ground, fumbling in his pocket for what had previously been hidden there. It was a box. A small, black velvet box. You reached out to grab him, to stop him from getting down on one knee. Your hands clasped weakly at his shoulders. Your voice came out as a rasp. “Tooru…”

Now that he was finally down on one knee, he opened the box with a flourish, displaying a beautiful engagement ring nestled on the cushion. The hands that had clasped his shoulders flew to your mouth as you let out a gasp. Unwillingly, you could feel the tears beginning to prick at the corners of your eyes. Oikawa gazed up at you, the love he held for you clear in his eyes. “y/n, will you marry me?”

Though you tried to blink them back, the tears came in an unforgiving flood as the dam to your feelings finally shattered. A sob escaped your lips as you watched the smile on his face slowly slip away. The hope in his eyes still remained as he wearily stated, “I hope those are tears of happiness.”

Unable to reply, you allowed your knees to give way beneath you, sinking to the sand also. His face was level with your own as he reached out with his free hand to brush the tears away. That hand lingered on your cheek for a moment longer before reaching down to tangle your fingers with his own. He was unaware of the true reason for your tears, choosing to believe you were simply overcome with emotions. Truthfully, he had not even considered the possibility of you saying no. After speaking to your parents and getting their blessing, talking to your joint group of friends, he had figured this was something you had both wanted. He gave your hand a gentle squeeze. His voice was soft as he spoke to you. “Hey… you don’t have to give me an answer now. Just think about it. Let’s enjoy the meal and talk about this later.”

But you could not bring yourself to talk about this later. With a physical display of your emotion, you were finding it harder to not speak the words aloud to him, the ones you had been planning on saying since you arrived in Argentina. You had decided to go with the straightforward and blunt approach, deciding to sugar-coat your words would be to undermine the relationship you had had for a good four years.

“Tooru. I think we should break up.”

He blinked at you. Numb. He was numb. He doubted whether he had heard you right. He was almost certain his ears were playing tricks on him. Quietly, voice in danger of cracking, he asked, “Could you repeat that please?”

“Tooru,” you said, his name a plea. Your voice broke; the emotional strain was clear. Your fingers tightened around his own. “Please. Please don’t make me repeat myself.”

“You want to break up?”

He felt hollow. He felt like the wind, as light as it was, would be able to pick him up and send him someone far away from this. It was a moment he had never anticipated, had never thought to prepare for. When you were in love with someone, you could never picture it ending. His brain seemed to replay the moments of your relationship in his mind. Never had you seemed unhappy. There had never been an inkling that you wanted to break up. If there had been, he would have been sure to notice, would likely have called you up on it and attempted to fix it. As he stared at you, a lost look on his face, you nodded in response.

“Why?” His voice was pain and anguish. It was disbelief. It was searching for the answer to a question he never thought he would need to ask. Not with you. Never with you. The velvet box in his other hand snapped shut. He placed it back in his pocket. It was worthless now. He had brought it for you, to signify the start of a new relationship, a new life together. All of that was pointless after what you had just confessed. You drew in a shaky breath, eyes focusing on his. He deserved the truth, as painful as it was to give and to receive.

“If you’re really going to become a citizen, to never move back to Japan permanently, our relationship just isn’t feasible anymore,” you explained, letting your other hand come up to brush a stray tear that had escaped from those pooling at his eyes. “I can’t live here, Tooru. After I finish university, I’ve got a job waiting for me at a top newspaper in Japan. You know its been my dream to work there, just like it was your dream to become a pro-volleyball player. And here you are, living your dream. I want to live mine too.”

He knew it was selfish, but he said the words anyway. He said the words knowing that they would have little effect on you. You were strong-willed, a characteristic that he greatly admired. Therefore, he knew the selfish words would have little impact, though they may annoy you slightly. At this point, it was him begging you, trying to give you an alternative he knew you would not accept. “You can live your dream here. There are so many newspapers here that you could work at. You know the language. They’d take you. But if they don’t, I’ll help you until they do.”

You let out a sigh. “That’s not fair, Tooru. I didn’t try to stop you from moving here after high school. I did everything I could to encourage you, promised you a long-distance relationship would work. I guess neither of us looked far enough into the future to foresee this. Maybe it would have been better to end this earlier…”

“Don’t say that,” he snapped. The thought that you would have wanted to end your relationship did not sit right with him, not when he knew how happy you made each other. There was only ever love between you. He had to admit there had been an emotional strain on your relationship when he had first moved away, but that was to be expected. No long-distance relationship was easy to start with. Truth be told, it had never been simple, but the distance became easier to bare. “You know you don’t mean it. If you love me, you know you wouldn’t have wanted this to end earlier.”

Oikawa had always been able to see right through you. “I know I don’t mean it. Shit, Tooru. I love you. I love you so much and that’s why this hurts so much.”

“Then don’t leave me,” he begged, grasping your hands, pulling you closer to him. His eyes conveyed his sadness so clearly, the tears rolling down his cheeks emphasising that fact. “You know we can work through this. We always do.”

“No, I don’t think we can work through this,” you said, giving his hands a gentle squeeze. Tears rolled down your cheeks as well. Both of your tears mingled on your clasped hands. “I feel like if we stay together, we’ll be holding each other back. We won’t be able to come to a compromise on this, not on where we live. We just have different dreams in life. It might be selfish of me, but I can’t put you before my dream. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not selfish,” he soothed, even as he felt himself breaking at your words. Putting your dreams first would never be seen as selfish behaviour by him, not when he had done the same in deciding to move to Argentina and then later permanently relocate there without consulting with you. He could see the selfishness in his own actions so he could not blame you for your own. “Following your dream is not selfish, y/n.”

You slumped against his chest, burying your face into the crook of his neck as you let out an anguished sob. His arms wrapped around you, his cheek resting against your hair as he let himself fall apart completely.

Anyone who walked along the beach that night would find their eyes drawn to a heartbroken couple clinging to each other as they whispered their final goodbyes. Their final kiss was shared beneath the stars, the salty teardrops on their lips a reminder of what they had just lost.

#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu angst #oikawa x reader #tooru oikawa x reader #oikawa headcanons #oikawa angst #haikyuu oikawa #oikawa x y/n #hq oikawa #oikawa toru x you #oikawa tooru #oikawa x you

[darthlorddiamond]

Just a Mistake

Request: Could you do one for Hux were his really into the this girl who's bigger, and she kinda plays hard to get, and something happens that makes her confidence go down, and he tries to help build it up for her? Maybe like a first kiss, or something? No rush, of course. I mean, if your not comfortable writing that, that's fine too. ❤️❤️❤️ for @loveroffandoms16

Words: 2,703

Reading Time: 11 min

Category: Fluff, Angst

Warnings: None

Check my Masterlist for more.

______________________

Just a Mistake

We have known each other for quite some time, although at that time we were just two young students who didn´t know very well what they were doing.

The first time I saw Armitage was at our generation's presentation on day one at the Academy. He was a very quiet and quite serious boy, who found it difficult to have friends. For my part, I was always a person with a very good gift of speech, and many people used to approach me to ask me about the studies or to know my opinion regarding certain topics that we would discuss later in class. It could be said that both, he and I were opposite, however, for some strange reason that I still cannot understand very well, we struck up a rather strange friendship that grew over the years.

Due to my physical complexion, somewhat short in stature, and a little bit curvy, my superiors decided that my work couldn´t develop well on the battlefield, so they dedicated themselves to training me in areas related to the development of military strategies. The truth is that, at first, I was quite in disagreement with the tasks that were being assigned to me, but as the months went by I began to find it quite attractive, while Hux, at being Captain Brendol's son, our teachers had in him very high expectations of leadership and Armitage focused exclusively on demonstrating that he was capable of achieving anything that was put in front him.

During the final year of the Academy, Armitage and I became quite distant, each one focused entirely on getting the positions that each wanted and our friendship was greatly diminished along the way. I must admit, that during our first years at the Academy, Armitage was a kind of platonic love to me, however, I never said anything because I didn't think someone like me would be attractive to someone like him.

After our graduation, we were assigned positions within the First Order in different locations. Armitage began the development of a military base that would outshine the others and I was assigned the Special Strategies Command Center within the Supremacy. The years passed, I never heard from Armitage other than those regarding the advances of the Star Killer Base, so little by little I put aside those nostalgic feelings of the Academy and immersed myself deeply in my work until the day of the conclusion of the Star Killer Base came. All the High Command of the First Order were called to inhabit that cold planet, which would serve as a central military base.

The reception upon our arrival was quite formal, the troops introduced themselves, greeted, we toured the entire base, a small reception was organized inside the Command Bridge, where a few glasses of alcohol and laughter were present, and it was there, in the midst of all the multitude of generals, captains and lieutenants, that I saw him again. He was standing, with his hands behind his back, his impeccable uniform, and his gaze dancing on each of the attendees without saying anything at all.

I felt a hollowness in my stomach, without a doubt the years had been quite good for him. For a moment I stopped paying attention to the talk of the people around me and I fixed my gaze on him, I wanted to speak to him, but I didn't know-how. I could feel a knot in my stomach getting bigger and bigger, so I decided that it would be best to get closer to him to see if he still remembered me in the first place. I was very anxious, the closer I was to him, the more I regretted having made that decision, but my pride would not let me take a step back, I had to.

Once in front of him, I could see how he only lowered his eyes to saw me, and without saying anything, a small smile was painted on my lips, which was replicated in his mouth. After that night, everything in my life changed.

I applied for my permanent transfer from the Supremacy to the Star Killer Base, became a member of the council table, and began to work side by side with Armitage on everything I did: requesting troop training reports, organizing missions and follow up on all matters related to the Resistance. Also, our friendship was recovering, some nights, Armitage would sneak out to my quarters to share a glass of wine and a cigarette, while we remembered, with laughter, our years as cadets.

I must admit that working at the Star Killer Base isn´t an easy thing, the demands of time and responses were much greater than what I was used to, above all, any type of work or communication that was related to Commander Ren was a very tired, especially for Armitage, who after being in some meeting with him ended up exhausted.

As the months went by, our relationship became more and more intimate, we could find comfort in our presence and the truth is that perhaps we only trusted each other. At first, I thought it was my mind playing a joke on me and that the romance I felt for Armitage in our school years was only flourishing again because my imagination, but I could swear that sometimes he had details with me that gradually became closer. I tried to ignore his stares on the Command Bridge, his attempts to hold my hand when we were alone, and even avoided him a couple of times when I felt his face was too close to mine. Part of me wanted to believe that maybe something was happening between us, but another part of my mind swore it was just my mind.

One afternoon, Armitage came into my office with a bunch of papers in hand, which he slowly deposited on my desk. "I have a mission and I would like you to carry it out..." I turned to saw him "A droid, model BB8, is found somewhere on the surface of Takodana..." Armitage began to smoke while I took the papers that he had put on my desk and began to read it "It´s crucial to find and recover it, since it has valuable information on the Resistance” Armitage continued smoking while I continued reviewing the documents “How long do we have to locate it?” I asked him looking askance over the papers "Immediately" at that moment I understood that this mission was linked to the assault of Takodana and Commander Ren, "Perfect, give me a couple of hours to prepare the action plan, as soon as I have it I´ll give it to Captain Phasma so she can prepare the troops" Armitage nodded and got up from his place heading to the door "One more thing..." he turned to look at me "After handing the plan to Captain Phasma..." a beautiful little smile was painted on his lips "Would you like to come to my quarters for dinner?" I let out a small laugh "I don't know, I'm not so sure..." I said with a slightly doubtful tone "Come on, don't be so difficult!" was the last thing he said before leaving my office.

The next morning the mission began in Takodana, the troops had deployed in the way I had organized them. Relatively it had to be a short and simple mission, how difficult could it be to find a droid?

Big mistake, I should never have made so many assumptions.

"It doesn't surprise me in the least that the mission failed..." General Pride got up from his seat in the meeting room and began to walk around the table, I could feel my throat dry and one of my legs began to move without I could control it, Pride's gaze was cold and it was still fixed on me as he continued his tour of the room, I knew what was coming, there was nothing I could do about it.

Slowly Pride came up behind me and held the back of my chair with both hands. "What surprises me, is the fact that we were trusting that someone like you could carry out such a task..." my hands were sweating and I felt a huge hollow in my stomach due to anxiety "What do you mean by someone like me General?" was the only thing I could say, the atmosphere felt tense, I could feel how the gazes of all those present in the room were on me, including Armitage's.

Pride cleared his throat and walked around the room again to position himself in front of me on the other side of the table. "I mean it's obvious that someone like you..." he raised one of his hands to point to my whole body, it was clear what he tried to insinuate "Someone with your physique..." I could feel tears beginning to form in my eyes, but I tried to contain it as best as possible, I wasn´t going to give him the pleasure of humiliating me in that way "Well Captain, someone with your body build has never been in the ground, that's why it's not surprising that the mission failed..." a mocking smile spread across his face as I just clenched my fists under the table "Someone like you only knows what it´s, in theory, a search mission, but you don't know the physical effort involved…” Pride put his hands behind his back.

I felt humiliated, ashamed and somewhat outraged, no one said anything, my stomach ached with rage, with impotence, I felt so much anger that a tear escaped my eyes, Pride was only looking at me from the corner of his eye, savoring every moment "You can retire Captain, it's time for the true men of combat to talk about how to solve your error” I didn´t wait a single second more, I immediately got up from my place and left that room.

I didn't know what to do, I didn't know where to go. To my office? No, I needed to be alone, so, even though my workday was not over yet, I immediately went to my quarters, once the door was closed, I burst into tears - Someone like me... -  I couldn't stop listening to the words of Pride in my head. I felt dirty so I got undressed right away and walked to the bathroom to take a shower.

The water in the shower helped me a little to dull the sound of my sobs. I´m so stupid! How could I think someone like me could perform a task like that!? I failed, not just to the First Order and Commander Ren, but Armitage, who was the first to trust me to do this task. I didn't know what to do, I was completely heartbroken. How is it that someone like me had gotten to where I was; how is it that the troops could trust someone like me; how is it that someone... How is it that Armitage... How could he look at someone like me?

Several weeks have passed since that terrible meeting. The only way I found to feel a little better and alleviate my supposed "incompetence" was to isolate myself from everything and focus exclusively on my work, I spent days and nights locked in my office without paying attention to anyone. My self-esteem was shattered, so I unconsciously started eating less and showing up late at night in the training room, away from the eyes of others, away from their criticism, their comments on my appearance.

As the days went by with my self-destructive routine, my body began to feel the consequences, I felt more tired than normal due to the demands of work and training that I was carrying out, I could see that big dark circles had begun to mark under my eyes and the usual rosy color on my cheeks was gone. On several occasions I had run into Armitage in the corridors of the base, however, I had completely ignored him, I didn´t dare to face him, I felt quite ashamed for having failed him in the mission, but I felt a thousand times worse for having thought that something existed between the two of us.

One of the many nights that I was in my office the door opened. In silence, but with a sure step, Armitage approached my desk and remained standing there for a couple of minutes, it was obvious that he was waiting for me to say something, ask something or do something, but I couldn't, I was completely frozen, I felt too nervous to say anything, I felt embarrassed enough to even see him.

"This is enough..." he said, almost like a whisper "You have been locked in this office for weeks without eating or sleeping well..." my gaze was fixed on the desk, while he advanced around it until he reached where I was sitting, I was feeling very nervous, what could I say to him? "You've been avoiding me for weeks..." I immediately turned to see him, my mind had made up an idea where we would eventually have to talk, but I always thought that when that moment would come he would complain about the failed mission, not about us "Armitage, I'm so sorry..." a couple of tears escaped my eyes "I never thought that Takodana's mission was to..." his body leaned quickly over mine, his hands gripped the armrests of my seat and his lips landed on mine.

The force of his kiss was so explosive that I couldn´t do anything to avoid it, his lips were so soft and his movements showed a kind of domination over me. I completely lost myself in the moment, the only thing I wanted at that instant never end "I don't give a damn about Takodana..." he whispered on my lips before kissing me again. He raised one of his hands to hold my the back of my neck and deepen the kiss, a fact that made me moan a little giving him access to my mouth, which he began to explore with his tongue. After a couple of minutes, we both left to get some air.

His face had drawn a blush almost the color of his hair, his eyes were still fixed on mine, while the hand that held my neck began to gently caress my cheek "Armitage, I never thought..." I stammered a little, I wasn´t sure it had happened that it just occurred "How is it that someone like you could fixate on someone like me..." I lowered my gaze to the ground, Pride's words were still present in my head.

Armitage brought his hand to my chin to lift my face, a couple more tears were present, he slowly approached me "I don't..." he kissed my lips "care anything..." he kissed one of my cheeks "about what..." he kisses my forehead "the others say..." he kissed my lips again, prolonging his touch a little more than normal. Recharging his forehead with mine, a smile played on my lips as I felt the warmth of his breath brushing my face and flooding my chest with a feeling of excitement and happiness like never before.

I jumped up from my seat and pounced on him, our bodies were completely united while his arms surrounded me and mine clung to his neck. I buried my face in his chest and Armitage covered the top of my head with kisses, we stayed like that for a few minutes until he broke that comfortable silence "How about we continue this in a more comfortable place..." I raised my face to look at him "We could go to my quarters, if that's okay with you" I drew a smile on my lips and moved my body a little away from his, without breaking our embrace, raising an eyebrow and with a slightly playful tone I replied, "I don't know, I'm not so sure ..." Armitage gave a small laugh and came closer to kiss me again "You really like to play hard" he whispered on my lips as I could feel a smile on his face.

#general hux #general hux x reader #general hux imagine #general hux smut #general hux x reader smut #star wars smut #general hux fluff #general hux x you #armitage hux #armitage hux x reader #armitage hux imagine #armitage hux smut #armitage hux fluff #armitage hux x you

[restmyheadatnightcontent]

so I watched the terror and fell in love with all these stupid cold boys so I went and read all the fics I could and I fell in love with thse two. my brain wouldnt shut up until I wrote this so here we go. it was meant to be a short little but but ended up as almost 2k of domestic joplittle fluff

_

Edward sighs as he wakes again to find the space beside him empty. He wouldn’t mind if it wasn’t the fifth time this week that it has happened. He sighs and pulls the jumper that has taken permanent residence on the floor next to the bed. He isn’t sure if it is his, or Thomas’, but right now he is too tired to care.

When Tom first moved in, their clothes were organised and separate from each other, but now, like every other aspect of their lives, they are mixed and tangled in together. There have been many days where he has rushed to work and grabbed a shirt blindly from the wardrobe only to reach the office and find that it isn’t his, or they will go out to the pub and Tom will be wearing the shirt that Ed remembers wearing two weeks before. As time goes on, the lines where separating him and Tom begin to blur more and more. 

And honestly, Edward doesn’t mind at all.

However, there is one thing that they do differ on, and that is their attitude for work.

That isn’t to say that Edward doesn’t enjoy his work, and that he doesn’t put any effort in because he does. But he is also loves the moment when he can turn off his computer, leave the office and not have to think about the seemingly never-ending stream of emails that plague him.

Whereas Edward is certain that, if given the choice, Tom would do nothing but work. It is something that has been ingrained into him since childhood, Edward suspects. He had grown up in the countryside, his struggles being distant yet disapproving parents who would ship him off to boarding school so as to not have to deal with him for half the year;  the expectation to never let anything show, even on the days where he wanted to do nothing but cry; and the loneliness that ate away at him, despite being almost always surrounded by people. But no matter how cold his family would get, they would always provide for him. He never had to worry about food, or shelter, or money.

Thomas hadn’t been quite so lucky.

It had taken him a while to tell Edward about his childhood, having buried every trace of it deep down out of fear that anyone would find out and think less of him for it.

Not that sane person who had ever met the man would ever think badly of Thomas Jopson. He was hard-working, punctual, incredibly well organised but also friendly, funny, and kind. He remembered everyone’s name in the office, and would always make time to stop and chat. He seemed to have this magical ability to see everyone, and make you feel seen in return, which had terrified Edward at first. He wasn’t used to attention, used to people only talking to him when they needed something from him and for not a second more. So it had been a shock one day to find a cup of tea set down on his desk and looked up to find Francis Crozier’s assistant in front of him with a beaming smile, asking how his day is going. It was a strange feeling being noticed, and realising that Jopson must have noticed him enough attention to make his tea order perfectly. After that, Tom’s visits to his desk had become more frequent, and he would visit Tom at his own whenever the man had a spare minute. And desk visits had become a few pints in the pub after work, and pub trips became dinner, and then he one day he found himself sat across from Tom in the park on his old picnic blanket when the other man had leaned across and kissed him.  

After that, Edward started to see more and more of the real Thomas Jopson, as the other man slowly peeled away his hardened layers, letting Edward see what lay beneath. His eyes crinkled when he really smiled, and he snorted when he laughed, and his accent would slip if he was ever really excited about something. He let Tom see the true him in return, and he knows they both found it hard to let someone in after so long, but god was it worth it.

One night, as they were laying in bed, just between awake and sleep when Tom began to talk. He told Edward all about his childhood; about his mum, the young boy who was forced to become a parent to his younger brother, how he had started working so young just so there could be food on the table, about the fear that hangs over him and that he will wake up one day to find he is still that little scared boy, fighting to survive.

His voice hadn’t wavered as he talked, and Edward marvelled at his bravery; to flay himself open, pull down every wall he had built up and let everything else fall away until there was just him. He didn’t say it, but Edward could hear him all the same, saying here I am, this is it, do you still love me? And Edward had thought yes, I love you now more than ever and just pulled Tom in close, held him tight against his chest and promised him that he would never be alone again.

The memories were dredged up again once Crozier made the decision to stop drinking, encouraged by Tom, and Edward could do little besides watching the man he loved run himself into the ground, helping James care for Francis whilst trying to keep the office running smoothly and look after himself. Ed could help with last part at least, and so he made food and made sure that Tom actually ate it, kept the flat tidy because the last thing Tom needed was to come home and have to clean, and when Tom came home late at night exhausted, shaking and overwhelmed by the memories, Edward would hold him, let him cry into his shoulder until he was asleep.

It wasn’t long after that, once Crozier had returned to the office healthier and happier than he’d been in a long time, that Tom had quietly mentioned that he was thinking of a career change. He had always helped people, had always liked helping people and he wanted to do it for other people, to choose to help them and help other people the way he wished someone would have helped him as a child. So the next few weeks were spent meticulously researching different courses and placements and funding and eventually Tom had decided.

He was going to become a nurse.

Ed had been wholly supportive, of course, and his heart swelled with pride as Tom had told him, knowing he would do whatever he could to help the man he loved achieve his dreams. He kept it quiet at the office until Tom had figured out a way to tell Crozier his plans, but he couldn’t help but beam whenever he caught Tom’s eye.

(Once he found out, Crozier was overjoyed but also a little heartbroken to be losing his trusted assistant.)

But he wouldn’t be losing him for a while, as it was going to be a long process. Because he had to care for his mum and brother, Tom had had to drop out of school the minute he could which meant that he didn’t have much in the way of qualifications. So he was put on a foundation course so that he could catch up before starting the proper training, which sadly he hadn’t been able to get funding for. Both Edward and Francis (and almost everyone they knew) had offered to help him, so that he would have time to study, but Tom being Tom would not and could not accept it. This was his decision and he wanted to do it by himself.   So he was still working full time at the office, whilst coming home in the evenings to study.  Which would have been fine if Tom wasn’t such a perfectionist, and work himself late into the night as he is doing once again tonight.

Edward catches a glimpse of the clock as he makes his way out of the bedroom towards the living room and he sees that it reads 3:34 and sighs. This is the latest that Tom has been up this week and Ed knows that if he carries on like this, he will burn himself out.

Tom is sat on the sofa, laptop balanced on his lap with textbooks open all around  him, and even from here Edward can see the exhausted set to his shoulders. At least this time he has made it to the sofa, some nights Edward has found him slumped over the table, shoulders drawn up tight and back tense, and Ed had to sit and watch him wince every time he turned too quickly, the next day when he thought no-one could see.

He shuffles over to the sofa, and Tom doesn’t notice him until he comes to sit beside him. From here Ed can see the deep bags beneath his boyfriends eyes, the paleness of his face and the tiredness that seems to be pouring off of him and he curses himself for not waking earlier and pulling Tom into bed with him, back from the edge of exhaustion before he can do any real harm to himself.

“Shit, did I wake you?” Tom asks, voice quiet but rough with tiredness and eyes slowly blinking at Ed.

“No, just woke up,” he replies. “Missed you.”

“Sorry, darling. I just need to finish this and then I’ll come in,” Tom says, turning back to his typing.

Edward knows better than to start arguing with him, Tom can be incredibly stubborn, and even more so if he thinks he is being coddled. So, he has learnt to resort to slightly more underhanded tactics. He manoeuvres himself up so that he can wrap his arm around Toms waist and let his head fall on his shoulder.

“Ned—” Tom protests, but Ed just hums and squeezes his middle, sneaking his hand underneath Tom’s shirt and runs his fingers along the skin just above his waistband. He pushes his face into Tom’s neck, nose nuzzling at the spot just below his ear that he knows makes Tom weak.

Tom huffs and carries on typing, but Ed can already feel the tension draining from him, and he smiles. Tom is one of the strongest people Edward knows, he carries so much weight on his slim shoulders, but most of the time he carries it effortlessly and Ed is in awe of him.

But there are times when it all becomes a little bit too much and Edward is there to help him carry the load.

He knows Tom has a path in his head, carefully treading the line between the past and the present, taking him where he knows he needs to go. But sometimes he stumbles, pushes himself a little too hard, is a little too harsh on himself, but it doesn’t matter because Ed is there walking every step behind him.

And he will always be there to lead him home.

#the terror #the terror fic #joplittle #thomas jospson #edward little #jopson x little #joplittle fic #my fic #my writing

[legoshi-plz]

Pretenses Part 2 (Louis x Reader)

Summary: Part 2. Louis is a spoiled prince and you are a clumsy maid. Prince! Louis x Canine! Dog! Reader.

Part One

////////////

The next time you woke up there was sunlight streaming through the room. Great, now not only had you failed to ever return to the kitchen for your nightly duties of helping cook for the Carnivore staff, but you’d also missed reporting to your regular morning kitchen duties at dawn.

You sat up in the Prince’s plush bed and stretched. Never in your life had you slept on such finery, it almost felt wrong to sleep on such a soft surface.

“Finally awake, sleeping beauty,” Prince Louis sighed and your head instantly snapped in his direction. He was already dressed and ready for the day despite not sleeping in his own bed which was currently occupied by you.

“Here, you’ll be needing this,” Louis shoved a folded fabric towards you which you realized was a new maid uniform. You suddenly remembered that he had ripped your own and grasped the luxurious sheets in an attempt to cover yourself.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Dog, I have better things to do with my time than leer at a lowly maid. Now get dressed and get out,” Louis snapped before storming out of the room.

You immediately switched into the uniform he gave you and scurried out of his chambers.

///////

Things changed after that. At first it had seemed he was actually done with his torment of you. There were no more useless, unnecessary trips back and forth from the kitchen, his guard he had follow you around to watch you had relaxed his hold, and he eased up on his demand of petty, time-consuming requests. It was almost like you had a regular job again. Almost.

You still had to go through his grating beratement day in and day out, one act of kindness hadn’t changed how he viewed you or your species and he wanted to make sure you knew that.

He also still required you to stand next to him while he ate his food, just in case he needed something or wanted to make another revision.

Which I where you found yourself today. He was eating in the east wing drawing room in front of its giant windows. The sun flooded the room and you could see the entire front grounds from here. You could even see where you used to work, the cobblestone entryway being scrubbed tirelessly by your fellow domestic canines.

“Grateful you’re not with them?” Louis asked in a condescending tone when he noticed where your line of vision focused.

“I-” your response was interrupted by a loud growl emitted from your stomach. The Prince’s ears perked at the sound.

“Bring me another lunch exactly like mine, don’t make me have to tell you twice,” Louis growled and you knew better than to disobey.

You returned with tray in hand and presented it to him as you usually would.

“Great, now eat it,” Louis said without even looking at you.

“My liege, I’m not supposed t-“”

“Do you ever just shut up?! You’re not even using the word right, you imbecile! That’s not the proper way to address the crowned Prince of this kingdom! Now I gave you an order, you’d do well to see it through!” Louis snapped and you physically shrank back at his verbal assault. No one could make you feel worthless quite like Prince Louis, he was an expert in that field.

You sat quietly and ate without another word, not even looking in the Prince’s direction. He was obviously very temperamental today and there was only so much you verbal abuse you could take in a day.

Once you were done picking at the food, you stopped and stared at the ground. Louis noticed and cleared his throat.

“You’re dismissed, now clean this up and get out of my sight.”

~*~

It was harvest time in the kingdom which meant the castle would be harboring fellow royal guests from neighboring kingdoms to display their wealth and abundance as well as harbor good relations. This meant that with more guests to abide by, more mouths to feed came with it which effectively doubled the work of the kitchen staff.

Your only reprieve was that during this time, the Prince was required to take all his meals in the dining hall with the King and his guests. You’d been free of his cruelty for over a week now and despite Stallworth running you into the ground in the kitchen, you were still thankful. You’d take physical exhaustion over verbal beratement any day.

“You seem a little too eager today, Pup. You can’t be that happy to be back,” One of the Gazelles spoke suddenly as you were happily kneading a glob of dough.

“Probably just thankful she doesn’t have to wait on the Prince hand and foot anymore,” another one said in reply. Even when they were taking about you, the Gazelles tended to just talk over you to each other seeing as you were the runt of the kitchen heightwise. You didn’t mind, after the initial hostilities of the kitchen wore off, you found it quite easy to get along with your new coworkers. Most of them weren’t too bright and could talk on and on about nonsense all day which actually made it easier for you to stay quiet and blend in. As much as you could anyway.

“I don’t see the problem in that, I’d wait on him any time any place anywhere,” The other Gazelle swooned. Prince Louis was extremely popular amongst the Herbivore staff.

“Sheesh you obviously haven’t met him, I heard he can be a real pain in the ass,” a third one scoffed.

“He could be a pain in my ass anyti-“

“Get back to work! And Y/N why are you still here?!” Stallworth said entering the station you and the other group of Gazelles were currently occupying.

“M-ma’am? I was completing the task that was written on my chart?” You checked your task chart every morning diligently and followed it to the letter.

“Clearly you haven’t checked in the last hour, there’s been a change in staff duty. You’re on the serving crew now,” Stallworth gruffed which only furthered your confusion.

“B-but ma’am I don’t know how to serve?”

“Well I hope you’re a quick learner. Lunch starts in twenty minutes,”

////////////

You had half a mind as to where that mysterious change in staff order had come from as you found yourself lining the walls with the other serving staff in the royal dining hall, conveniently located right across from Prince Louis. It was as if that man lived to torture you and this was just another new concoction of his to achieve that goal.

You were clumsy and had a poor sense of equilibrium by nature, as was the fate of a dog, but having his eyes glued to you waiting for you to make a mistake only served to double your nerves, a fact you were sure he was well aware of.

To make matters worse, you were shaking like a leaf the entire time. You squeezed your hands together in little fists to try and calm the shaking only for the Gazelle next to you to nudge you. Her gaze lowered to your hands and you immediately knew what she meant and let them fall by your side limply. You were still a Carnivore, you couldn’t be seen showing signs of aggression, even if that was not your intention.

You hated it here.

////////

Louis was angry. That was an understatement considering he was always angry. But this anger was different. This anger was more of a resentment than anything else. That resentment geared towards his father of course.

He had noticed upon entering the dining hall for supper that you weren’t there in your usually position. He scanned the entire room but there was no sign of you. He turned to see his father watching him, a knowing look in his eyes. He was responsible.

After dinner he had caught Louis on his way out, walking beside him in what would seem a natural exchange between father and son. Louis knew any exchange between him and Oguma was anything but normal.

“Missed your entertainment during dinner,” Oguma mentioned offhandedly. Louis felt his blood run cold.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,”

“Really? I thought she’d be hard to miss, seeing as she’s the only Carnivore in this entire wing of the castle.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” Louis said in a bored tone. King Oguma was the last person he wanted to have this conversation with, or any conversation for that manner.

“Don’t play coy, I spoke with Peak. I know you put her there.” Oguma said sternly as the two of them reached the end of the corridor.

“What’s your point, father?” Louis asked ready to make his exit in any direction that was the opposite of the King.

“You allot more attention to her impending failure and pathetic nature than you do our own dinner guests. I was unaware I raised such a cruel child but your torment of that poor creature ends today. I sent her back to her regular duties permanently.” Louis felt his blood boil at his father’s words. How dare he meddle in his affairs?

“As you wish. I’m sure there are much more interesting forms of entertainment among the castle. One beautiful royal guest in particular.” Louis contended bidding his adieu. He was alluding to the daughter of a visiting Duke. She was a couple years older than Louis but the Duke was not above championing her off if it secured his favor with the Royals. Louis could not be more disinterested. There was only one animal that held his attention and that was a certain disoriented maid.

This may be the end of your dining servitude but Louis was far from through with you.

///////////

You were currently bustling down the corridor on your way to the gardens to retrieve fresh herbs. They had failed to bring the morning rations from their harvest and of course if there was anybody in that kitchen they would send all the way across the palace for a few hunks of scented leaves, it was you. The kitchen didn’t even actually need it, they had enough spices to hold them for weeks but life seemed set to punish you in one way or another.

Though grateful to be back in your normal position in the kitchen, having been evicted from your dining position so suddenly by Madam Peak herself (especially after she had just been the one to assign you) was a bit of an embarrassment, one that Stallworth did not take lightly. She saw it as you weren’t working hard enough and decided to double down on her discipline of you.

It won’t be an easy job, you’ll do all of the grunt work and you will not be treated as an equal.

What she said to you upon your first meeting still echoed in your mind. She has meant every single word.

You rounded a corner a little too quickly and almost ran right into none other than the Prince himself. Luck really was not on your side today.

“Oh, it’s just you, Dog,” Louis sneered, his eyes still wide from the shock of the almost collision. Like a deer caught in-

“You look as horrible as ever,” he said appraising you. You were way too tired tired to feed him new material to beguile you on so you merely bowed and then made to go around him.

“And where do you think you’re going?” Louis grabbed your arm and easily spun you around but one look at the utter exhaustion in your eyes seemed to say it all.

“I see... Follow me,” the Prince commanded as he started walking, not waiting to see if you were behind him. You trailed after him wordlessly. Though you were already under orders from the kitchen, he was still a royal and his authority outweighed theirs ten to none.

The two of you arrived to his chambers and he only stopped walking once he reached his bedroom. He turned to you and the same as last time grabbed your waist, lifting you onto his bed to place you at its center.

“M-my liege I-”

“Didn’t I tell you to stop using that,” Louis grumbled as he grabbed your ankle to take of your shoe, then proceeded to take off the other.

“My Prince-”

“Shhhh, enough with the formalities. Or speaking in general. Just go to sleep before you pass out again.” He drew the covers back and held them open for you. You stared at him as if he’d lost his mind.

“I can’t-”

“I won’t tell you again. I gave you an order, Y/N. Follow it.” Louis said sternly. You hesitantly obey as he tucked you into his bed. And he was calling you by your actual name? This had to be some sort of trick, even that basic level of respect towards Carnivores was beneath Louis. Why would he ever respect a group of animals he deemed the scum of the earth.

The moment your head hit the pillow, you were out like a light.

///////////

Louis watched your chest rise and fall in rhythm as the glow of the evening sun illuminated your fur. You looked just as beautiful today as you did any other day and yet it was a sight he never grew tired of.

Your sleeping in his chambers during the day had become a regular occurrence over the past couple of weeks. There wasn’t much Louis could do in terms of apology (at least not much he could do that wouldn’t draw attention) for how he’d been treating you but he could allow you at least a small portion of all the rest and recuperation he’d stolen from you over the past months.

You began to stretch and yawn, your leg twitching vigorously as your tail wagged in tandem. This little stretch of yours was the marker than you were waking up so Louis did as he always wouldn’t this time: turn in his chair and open his book to a random page while pretending like he hadn’t been gazing at you for hours.

“Good Afternoon, my Prince,” you hummed happily as you rose from his bed. Louis felt his stomach do somersaults at the term. It was what you always called him but hearing it fall from your lips in such a soft and tender way, as if the two of you were lovers and you’d just woken up in his arms- no. Louis immediately pushed such thoughts from his mind, there was no sense in daydreaming about such foolishness.

“Is it? It’s nearly dinner time. You overslept,” Louis said in a bored tone. Of course you had overslept, you were tired all the time and he had selfishly refused to wake you simply to get an extra bit of time to look at you. Risking getting you in trouble to fuel his own ridiculous fantasies, how pathetic of him.

“Oh no,” you scurried out of his bed and rushed to the door, peaking your head out to make sure no one was out there to see you leaving. You then slinked away like a theif in the night yet he hated to admit the only thing you’d succeeded in stealing was his begrudged affection and a few extra hours of sleep.

Louis sighed as he watched the place on his bed where you had been sleeping peacefully not even ten minutes prior. You had snuck away as if you had never even been here in the first place. Most maids he had taken to his bed to use for his own whimsical pleasure would stroll out of his chambers with pride and arrogance, too stupid to even realize they’d been used for their virtues and thrown away. But not you.

You found yourself in his bed for a completely innocent and inane reason: a nap, nothing more nothing less. Oh if given the chance, Louis would ravish you in bed. There wasn’t an inch of your body he wouldn’t utterly worship and adore.

He thought back to the day you’d fainted in his study. How he had to carry you to his chambers, so light and fragile in his arms. The exact opposite of everything he thought Carnivores to be.

He had never really harnessed a true hatred for Carnivores. Sure he loved to treat them as if they were simply dumb by nature but he knew the truth. They weren’t allowed the same quality of education in this Kingdom but they held the same capacity for intelligence as a Herbivore or Omnivore. The same could not be said for Herbivores and their capacity for strength. If given the chance, Carnivores could be just as intellectual as Herbivores all the while maintaining physical dominance. But that simply wasn’t the system put into place and with the way the Kingdom was run now, the powers at be would see to it that it never would.

Even Herbivores as strong and revered as his own kind, who possessed towering statutes and muscular builds, were no match for a determined group of intellectual Carnivores. So the Kingdom minimized their education as much as they could without infringing on their animal rights then set them off to work at an early age.

Louis’ mind once again circled back to you. You were the same age as him yet you had been working for years and he had never so much as picked up a broom. Even if he wasn’t royalty, he would still be pursuing a higher education at this age, not working himself to the bone like you did. It was a horridly inequal system and despite the guilt that subconsciously nipped at him, he doubted there was much he could do to change it when he inevitably became King. As domineering as his father was, even his power as King had its limits. His council had the final say in every decision and they were the last set of people anyone would want to have as an enemy.

“E-excuse me, my lord,” you voice rang through the room shaking Louis from his thoughts. You were standing in front of the door with a tray in your hand.

“I noticed you were missing your regular scheduled dinner so I thought I’d bring it to you, in case you were hungry, sire,” you said approaching him. Your concentration, as always, was focused on the tray at hand to ensure you didn’t drop it. You missed the slack jawed, lovestruck expression of the Prince before you.

“You...,” Louis’s voice trailed off as he watched you set down the tray on a small end table next to where he had dragged his chair.

“You’re still not using that word right.” Louis said turning from you. He felt his fur bristle at the kind act and his heart was nearly beating out of his chest.

“My apologies,” you bowed, turning to take your exit permanently this time.

“Wait,” Louis stood, regretting it immediately. Why was he standing? He tried to brush off his awkwardness and return to his normal curt behavior.

“Your presence is required in my study. 2 a.m. sharp.” Louis said it as an order when in reality he could feel his stomach in his throat.

“B-but I have.... other duties at that time, your highness. There is a nightly maid staff should you need anything, sire,” Your held a certain kind of fear in your eyesthat struck a nerve in Louis. Were you afraid of him? Or of missing those repugnant ‘duties.’

“This was not a subject up for discussion nor debate. You’re dismissed,” Louis watched your shoulders fall as you slunk out of his chambers.

His eyes then fell on the tray you had brought him containing his dinner. The act had been so genuine, and so very much like you. His heart fluttered at the thought of you doing something like this special for him and him alone but he knew that notion was as far off as could be. You were a simple maid just trying to do her job and he selfishly took advantage of that. You already were forced to spend an ungodly amount of time in his presence during the day and now he wanted to consume your off duty time as well.

Technically, you were never actually ‘off-duty’ as a maid of the castle however there were scheduled shifts for the staff for a reason. They were put into place so certain lines wouldn’t be crossed but Louis could honestly give less of s damn about those lines. He had already trampled over them, restricting himself from you now was pointless. There was a small part of him that wondered if he even could stay away from you. It seemed as if the more he surrounded himself with you, the more he craved you. There was something about you that drew him in more and more each time and he could hardly find the strength to fight it anymore.

He was falling headlong into his obsession with you and couldn’t find it in himself to care.

#beastars #beastars louis #beastars louis x reader #louis x reader #louis x you #louis

[everybodyscupoftea]

lights down low

rafe cameron x reader

word count: 3818

warnings: some cursing; underage drinking; mentions of weed; shitty parents; i think that’s it this is just soft

synopsis: two family disappointments finding each other based on the song lights down low by MAX

a/n: we’re living in my world baby, and in my world rafe cameron isn’t a murderer or a coke addict, he’s just a sad boy with daddy issues

You met Rafe at school. The two of you weren’t really friends, but you weren’t enemies either, just casual acquaintances. If you saw him at parties, you’d say hey, but if you saw him in public, you’d only nod. Rafe had a certain…reputation, and in a town as small as the Outer Banks, word got around fast on who was seen out and about together. It was best to just stay away from him.

Of course, that was mostly your parents' bias driving your actions. They had high hopes for you and your future, dreams of fulfilling things they weren't able to. It was exhausting, but you stuck with it. You did exactly what they wanted when they wanted, and how they wanted for over 10 years, and you were miserable.

You thought, hoped, even prayed sometimes that you’d be able to escape the island, escape your parents’ reach, that hopefully with success you’d be able to move on. Until suddenly, they realized, you weren’t as successful as they wanted. You weren’t personable enough or weren’t as polished as they wanted.

And slowly you started to fall from grace. Your younger sister, however, royalty. She was perfect. Perfect grades, perfect social skills, perfect looks. How could you measure up? And with that, you went from the family's hope to the family's disappointment in six short months, and that way out you were chasing slowly began to fade from view.

Rafe was intimately familiar with what it felt to be the family disappointment. He’d been living it for years. It wasn’t hard to tell a kindred spirit when you saw him frequently pushed out of multiple conversations with his dad’s business partners, and his achievements disregarded for his sister’s seemingly more impressive ones.

“Yes, our Sarah plays volleyball and dances, and has kept up a 4.0 GPA.”

Or, “Sarah’s gotten several college offers including Duke, but she loves the idea of keeping Chapel Hill in the family.”

It was nauseating, to say the least.

At this point, you’d avoided him so long that you weren’t sure how to start the conversation. You desperately needed someone who understood, someone who could help you cope with it. The best bet, you figured, was Midsummers. So, you waited for him to be by himself, extra drink in your hand, and strolled over as casually as possible before offering it to him wordlessly.

He gave you a confused look and glanced around, eyebrows furrowed, “We’re underaged, you know?”

Rolling your eyes, you pushed it into his hand, “When has that ever stopped either of us?”

And he made eye contact with you again before taking it with a huffed laugh, “Fair.”

You clinked your glass lightly with his, “To being the family disappointment.”

That one got a louder laugh out of him, and he clinked his with yours again, “To never living up to impossible standards.”

With that, you were inseparable.

Heaven only knows where you’ve been; but I don’t really need to know; I know where you’re gonna go

You had a job bartending on the mainland while you went to school. After finding out Rafe still worked for his dad, you urged him to quit and find another job. You knew the bar you worked for was always looking for bouncers, so you encouraged him to apply. And he got the job.

The two of you started working together and even studying together on your nights off. It didn’t really improve your grades, but it made studying way more enjoyable. Over time you learned his coffee order, his favorite genre of focus music, and his favorite study location.

Unbeknownst to either of you, you’d been running in circles near each other, never quite crossing paths. Taking the same classes but never at the same time, and living in the same apartment building but on different floors. You liked to believe it was meant to be, but you weren’t sure how he felt or how to broach that topic.

It had been a long day, and you’d texted Rafe that you weren’t sure you were going to show up for your usual study session. But after throwing yourself a pity party alone in your apartment, you realized you wanted to see him.

With a heavy sigh, you dropped your bag on the floor and slumped into a chair across from him. Rafe looked up, startled, and winced at your facial expression before sliding his coffee across the table to you. You took a sip gratefully as he stood, “I’ll go get another one.”

By the time Rafe sat back down, your exhaustion had turned to anger, and you twisted your bracelets in an attempt to work out the burst of energy.

“What happened?”

“My mother called this afternoon to discuss dinner. Apparently, they’re fed up with me not finding a suitable man to bring ‘honor to the family’ or some archaic bullshit, so they’re setting me up with a family friend.”

Rafe played with his cup for a few seconds before looking up at you, “I’ll go with you, as a buffer and as a date.”

Your heart rate doubled, and you knew it had nothing to do with the caffeine, "As a real date or as something to make my parents mad?"

“I was hoping a real date,” Rafe told you softly.

Clinking your cup with his, you smiled at him widely, “To disappointment squared and to finally finding someone who understands.”

Rafe laughed, “I don’t know where you’ve been all these years, but I’m glad you’re here now.”

On my heart, where you’re resting your head; and you look so beautiful; it’s like you were an angel

Rafe’s lease expired before yours did, about a year after you got together, so you extended yours and added him. You’d never had a roommate before, and you were nervous, but Rafe was respectful of your space and the extra presence was actually comforting instead of stifling like you worried it might be.

You'd never really been a touchy person either, normally like your personal space, but Rafe seemed to be the exception. He really liked to cuddle, and you loved to indulge him. Whether it be in bed or just on the couch after a long day. His heartbeat was calming to you, and listening to it reminded you that you weren't alone anymore.

One night he told you he liked being able to hold you and bring you comfort, that it made him feel useful for once in his life. Ward spent most of his teenage years convincing Rafe that he was good for nothing, he liked having a purpose.

You joked you only kept him around to have a permanent date to events, and he always laughed. But while that was a perk, he quelled the loneliness that had taken root in your chest without you realizing. One night, lying in bed, he brought up the one event you actually looked forward to, "Midsummers is coming up in a few weeks, you still up to going?"

“I love Midsummers, you know that.”

He grimaced, “One year you’ll say no, I guarantee.”

“Dressing up and drinking while laughing at the rest of our ‘peers’ is a great time, bub, and you know it.”

You weren’t sure he realized, but he was rubbing his thumb repeatedly over your ring finger as he spoke, “I plead the fifth.”

Under heavy skies in the rain; you’re dancing in your bare feet; just like we’re in a movie

One October your classes got canceled because of a hurricane. The two of you slept in and ate brunch and basked in a relaxed atmosphere. It wasn't too cold outside yet, and you really wanted to go out into the rain.

“Come on, Rafe, it’ll be fun to finally feel something.”

He rolled his eyes and fought a smile, “Sweetheart, I can promise you, standing outside in a hurricane will not help me ‘feel something’ like you think it will.”

You pouted, but he wouldn’t budge, “Fine, I’ll go and you can watch. Tell my sister I love her if I get struck by lightning.”

“I’ll bring you a towel,” he said, walking away to dig one of your beach towels out of the cabinet they were stored in, and you skipped out of the apartment to go up to the roof. Technically you weren’t supposed to be up there, but you and Rafe had jimmied the door months ago so you could smoke weed together in peace.

When you got outside, it was raining pretty hard, but the bulk of the hurricane still hadn’t hit, so the weather was relatively tame compared to what was coming. Unfortunately, it was too loud to hear any music, so you just hummed some songs and spun around a few times before sitting down in the middle of the roof and tilted your head up to face the sky.

Your eyes were shut, so you didn’t realize Rafe had actually joined you until he nudged your shoulder. With a little yelp, you shoved him lightly, heart beating fast at the surprise.

“Thought you didn’t want to stand in the hurricane.”

“Well, I figured this might be a once in a lifetime thing, so I might as well join you.”

The two of you were yelling to be heard over the pounding rain, and he stood suddenly, holding out his hand for you to take. Confused, you let him pull you up and into his chest.

“What are you doing?”

“Dance with me?”

Smiling widely, you nodded eagerly and began swaying with him as he softly sang Singing in the Rain like the nerd he secretly was. The two of you must’ve looked a sight, totally soaked and barefoot, dancing poorly to nonexistent music, but the moment was perfect, and you wouldn’t change it for anything.

Grab my hand and we’re chasing the train; catch you looking back at me; running through a cloud of steam

You and Rafe were running late. This was not unusual, he barely wanted to go to events you knew the two of you were obligated to attend, and he did his absolute best to make the two of you miss them. Sarah's graduation party was no exception.

“Babe, please, just wear the tie, we’re going to miss the last ferry if you don’t hurry.”

He groaned loudly, like a child, and held the tie out to you, “You do it, I cannot.” Which was bullshit, but whatever. You rolled your eyes and looped it around his neck, doing it up gently and quickly.

Tightening it, you patted his chest, “Let’s go, bub.”

Rafe normally drove the two of you everywhere, and he took his time, slowing down at yellow lights, probably infuriating the people behind him. You spent the entire drive glaring at him, but he didn’t care even a little bit.

You were out of the car and running to the ticket stand before Rafe even finished parking, much to his chagrin. He saw you glancing back at him, to make sure he was following, and he was, just much slower than you would’ve liked.

The ticket booth attendant was not amused at your last-minute buy but reluctantly gave you the tickets as you waited impatiently for Rafe to catch up to you.

“Slow down, sweetheart, the ferry isn’t going anywhere.”

You gave him your most unimpressed look, “You and I both know the ferry waits for no one, now come. on.”

Rafe continued to drag his feet, but you pulled him behind you onto the ferry just as the ramp started to lift. Once he realized he’d lost, he caught up to you and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, “I don’t know why we have to go to this stupid party.”

“It’s your sister’s high school graduation, it only happens once.”

“I don’t like my sister, hell, you don’t like my sister,” he countered.

Which wasn’t entirely true, you didn’t like that Sarah never stood up for Rafe, but you didn’t dislike the girl completely. You shoved his shoulder lightly, “I don’t dislike her, I just dislike some things about her.”

He pressed a kiss to your temple as the ferry started moving. The two of you were going to be late anyway, catching the last possible ferry. The party was probably already in full swing, so you weren’t going to have to stay too long.

“You got the card?” he asked out of the blue, suddenly remembering he was supposed to remind you to get it before you left, and you nodded, showing it to him in your bag.

“We agreed $75 right?” you asked, trying to remember how much you’d put in it.

Rafe rolled his eyes, “Yeah, even though she doesn’t need our money.”

“It’s nice,” you reminded him, though deep down, you agreed.

Rafe had been cut off about 7 months into your relationship as soon as he quit working for Ward, and Sarah’s share doubled despite not doing much to contribute. It was a huge sore spot for Rafe. The ferry ride was shorter than either of you really wanted, and too soon it was docking.

“Can you order an Uber, bub?” you asked as the two of you stepped onto the dock.

He held out his hand for you to take, “Sure thing.”

The two of you stood off to the side and you squeezed his hand a few times to get his attention, “Hey, I know you hate going to these things, but I don’t want you to be totally ostracized from your family and maybe regret it one day.”

He stared down at you, a small smile tugging at his lips as steam billowed around the two of you as the ferry prepared to leave back to the mainland for the last time. Unexpectedly, Rafe leaned down and pressed a firm kiss to your lips, "I know. You’re way too thoughtful for me.”

You laughed softly, “I just care about you.”

You can have the best of me baby now; and I will give you anything; can you feel this energy? Take it

Finals week was a bitch. It always was, but the two of you found gearing up for your last ever finals week even harder than usual. Senioritis, if you could even call it that in college, was hitting hard. Both of you had internships lined up in Memphis, and taking tests was the least of both of your concerns.

Rafe was mostly worried about finding a place to live in such short notice that he didn’t even have time to worry about economics or accounting. You, on the other hand, were stressed about both. One afternoon, the Wednesday before finals, he found you in the kitchen, sitting on the floor, freaking out.

He squatted down and gently ran his fingers through your hair a few times, “What’s going on, sweetheart?”

“What if I fail and then they don’t want me at the firm anymore? What would I even do? Like I’d move with you but I don’t want to be a housewife, I refuse to be like my mother.”

Rafe clucked his tongue and grabbed your chin, “You’re so smart, the smartest person I know. There’s no way you’re going to fail your finals. And even if the impossible happens, and you do, they’d be so stupid to let you go over it.”

“You have to say that, you’re my boyfriend.”

He let go of your chin and picked up your fist instead, massaging it until you unclenched and he could intertwine his fingers with yours. After gently rubbing your ring finger, something he’d taken to doing all the time, he spoke, “Maybe so, but my faith in you isn’t unfounded. I’ve seen you do some really impressive shit over the years and I am so proud of you. Like you got a job without throwing your name around, based only on your merit.”

“You did too,” you mumbled, smiling at him softly.

“Hell yes I did, and we’re going to be there together soon. Finals week is just a tiny blip and we’re going to get through it and then we never have to worry about that again.”

“How are you so chill right now?”

Rafe chuckled, “I don’t know, I guess I’m just ready to be done and I’m already over it. I just want to start our future together now. But for now, thinking about it is enough.”

“That’s the kind of energy I need,” you grumbled, sagging into his embrace, finally dropping all tension from your body.

He pulled you in tighter, “Take some, sweetheart, I have plenty.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works.”

You felt him shrug and the smile he pressed into the top of your head, “Maybe not, but I’d give you anything, you know that right?”

And finally, to his relief, you smiled, “Yeah, I know.”

“Good.”

Can I stop the flow of time; can I swim in your divine; cause I don’t think I’d ever leave this place

The night before your planned move to Memphis, Rafe and you ordered Cook Out and ate on the living room floor. The nostalgia was overwhelming as you realized that the two of you were leaving your first real home together.

Once you both finished eating, you buried your face in Rafe’s chest, the feelings overwhelming you with nothing else to focus on. He didn’t say anything, basking in the comfortable silence with you, lost in memories of his own.

The two of you sat there for what felt like eons but was really only an hour before he stood, holding a hand out to help you up. You took it gratefully, and he led you into your room to sleep for the last time. The two of you got ready for bed, side by side, for the last time in that bathroom and tears periodically pricked your eyes.

Still, in silence, the two of you laid in bed, cuddled together. His thumb stroked your shoulder, pushed under the sleeve of your t-shirt, and you played with the hem of his shorts offhandedly. It was a bit of a surprise when he finally spoke, jolting the two of you out of the comfortable silence.

“Marry me,” he said.

Caught off guard, you pushed yourself into a sitting position, hand on his chest, “What?”

“I can’t picture spending the rest of my life with anyone else, I feel like time stops when I’m with you. It’s so addicting, and now we’re out of school and we have jobs, so, marry me.”

You couldn't stop the tears this time, "Yeah, of course, of course, I'll marry you."

He grinned, maybe the widest you’ve ever seen, and sat up, flicking the bedside lamp on and started digging through his nightstand. After about 30 seconds, you holding your breath the whole time, he pulled out a jewelry box and opened it, revealing the prettiest ring you’d ever seen.

“Damn, Rafe, this is nice as fuck.”

With a loud laugh, he slid it on your finger and pulled your hand up to press a kiss to your knuckles, "Only the best for you, sweetheart."

You stared down at it for a while before glancing back up at him, only to find him looking at you already, a soft smile on his face. With a blush, you squeezed his hand, "I know we have to move on, but I'm going to miss this place."

“I will too, this was our home for so long.”

You almost wanted to cringe at your next words, cheesy as they sounded, “I think I’ll be leaving a small part of me behind, a part that never wants to leave this place.”

He pressed one last kiss to your knuckles before laying back down, “Me too.”

Oh, turn the lights, turn the lights down low; yeah, now I’m feeling you breathing slow

The first month sleeping in your new apartment, in your new bed, was hard to adjust to for you. Rafe seemed to have no issue, and you spent countless nights just laying on his chest, listening to his heartbeat and moving with his deep, even breaths.

Eventually, it got easier, living farther away from your family, from the Outer Banks. Rafe helped immensely, always there with coffee in the mornings after yet another sleepless night. He wasn't really sure how to help you other than just comfort you when you were clearly distressed.

“I love you,” you whispered one night, just as his breathing evened off.

His lips quirked up briefly, “Love you too.”

‘Cause baby we’re just reckless kids; trying to find an island in the flood; oh, turn the lights, turn the lights down low

Once everything got settled, Rafe invited both of your families down for a weekend to tell them all about the engagement. Neither of you was particularly looking forward to it, both families likely to be a bit unhappy about it.

You fretted and cleaned your apartment multiple times, even though no one was actually staying there except Sarah, Wheezie, and your sister, none of which cared about the state of your apartment.

Rafe finally got fed up and pulled you down onto the couch the day they were supposed to come in before you could vacuum a third time. He rubbed your shoulders, “It’s going to be okay, even if they’re upset, there’s nothing they can do. We’re adults with jobs and lives away from them.”

You knew he was right but it didn’t really matter to you at the moment, “Right but-“

He cut you off, “No buts, let’s watch some Netflix until they get here.”

And when they did get there, it wasn’t as bad as you both thought. Maybe your parents were hiding their actual feelings to talk to you about later, but they seemed excited at face value. Wheezie was yelling and jumping up and down, and Sarah and your sister were talking loudly, trying to be heard over Wheezie. It was loud and an overwhelming whirlwind, but you were happy.

Your dad shook Rafe's hand, and Ward didn't look proud per se, but he looked less disappointed than usual, which was a huge win in your book.

You met Rafe’s eyes through the chaos surrounding the two of you and the soft smile he was giving you brought a smile to your face too.

“I love you,” he mouthed.

“Love you more,” you mouthed back.

He mock glared and shook his head, “Never,” you barely made out over the noise.

Instead of responding, you chose to blow him a kiss and then let yourself be swept into conversation with your sister.

Unbeknownst to you, his glare softened into a fond look as he kept watching you. How had he gotten so damn lucky?

Turn the lights, turn the lights down low

#rafe cameron #rafe outer banks #outer banks #rafe cameron fic #rafe obx #rafe fic #outer banks fic #rafe x you #rafe x reader #college rafe

[purplesurveys]

1062

survey by chrissylee22dc

A

Achievements: I guess I’m being asked to list some of mine...some of the ones I’m proudest of, at least, are graduating university with honors, landing a job (liking it is a big bonus), and taking up leadership positions.

Age: I am 22, but never felt quite like it.

Are you planning something right now? Kind of. I’m eyeing a long road trip to Tanay with just myself and go to one of their coffee shops, but idk when I’ll be able to do that. My wallet and bank account are still beat from Christmas lol (and until now I’m still buying gifts for friends), so it might have to wait until sometime next month.

Arizona or Alaska: I think Arizona weather is already quite like ours here, so I might enjoy Alaska a bit (if not a lot) more. There’s generally a lot more factors I find interesting with Alaska, like their food.

B

Birthdate: April 21st.

Build: I’m quite thin and underweight, but I actually recently made plans to start working out - both to make an effort to be healthy with myself, and also to feel good post-breakup. I’m hoping to see some changes in my body and build in the coming months.

Babies, do you have any? None of those, not sure if that’s still the plan for me.

Blonde or Brunette: Brunette.

C

Childhood sweetheart: Erm, does Gab count? We technically weren’t kids anymore when we first got together. I wasn’t attracted to anyone as a kid and was more concerned with growing my Pokemon pogs collection.

Current mood: I’m hungry and can go for savory breakfast foods right now, like shakshuka or huevos rancheros. Also a little anxious because I really don’t want to think about work, but tasks continue to pile up for a certain client.

Children, are there more in your future? There aren’t even any to begin with.

Coke or Pepsi: Pepsi just because it reminds me of Punk and my chaotic wrestling fangirl years.

D

Dad's name: Edgardo, but no one calls him by that full name. He has two nicknames; one of which he hates and only family and friends use, and the other is the name he has permanently introduced himself as in his workplace.

Dating anyone: Not anymore.

Do you plan on having lots of money? Don’t most people?

Dogs or cats: Dogs.

E

Elementary School: I’m not sharing that.

Eye color: Dark brown/black.

Ever going to China? Probably not right now considering the present situation. I’d love to go to the rural cities and have a peek into their country life.

Early or Late: EARLY. Lateness is a big pet peeve, unless the excuse is super reasonable like Manila traffic or a car accident.

F

First Crush: The first person I felt remotely attractive to was Andi, from 6th grade. Then she moved to New Zealand and the crush quickly faded out.

Fears: For concrete things, I hate cockroaches and fair rides. For bigger concepts, I fear getting left behind, failing, and not getting approval, and the idea of never being satisfied or happy with who I am, what I’ve done, or where I’ve gone.

Future goals: Have a place of my own, be able to sustain myself, and keep myself alive.

Funny or Serious: I think everyone has to have both sides. I wouldn’t want to hang out long with people who can’t be sat down to just shoot the shit with conversations that go a little deeper. At the same time, I’d be quickly bored with someone who talks about existential or philosophical topics 24/7 and takes everything seriously.

G

Grandparent's names: On my dad’s side, Dolores and Federico; on my mom’s side, Agnes and Jun. My maternal grandpa is the third in multiple generations of Abelardos in the family, but his nickname is simply ‘Jun,’ because Philippines.

GPA: We don’t measure our grades with that, but we do have a GWA; I’m just not sure how that can be converted to GPA. Mine was in the 1.47 range, which was good enough for cum laude honors. I barely missed out on a magna cum laude honor (which required a 1.45 GWA), so that’s something I’ve always been pressed about and I know I could have clinched it if the pandemic didn’t cancel my final semester, which would’ve given me the chance to pull up my grades.

Going anywhere this weekend? I don’t think so. I want to spend the remaining 5 days of my break completely unproductively.

Giver or Taker: Giver. I like pleasing people.

H

High School: I attended one school from kindergarten to high school.

Hair color: Black.

Hate anyone for life? I don’t think so. I dislike some people, but I can’t tell if I’ll feel that way for the rest of my life.

Hairspray or Gel: When I’m going somewhere or attending something fancy, I use hair gel to hold my hair down.

I

In 8th grade, who was your best friend? Eighth grade is freshman year of high school, right? In that case, my best friend was Gabie.

Is ignorance bliss? Sometimes it is. I like no longer being updated about Gabie’s life. Back when I still tried to push my way in, I was miserable. I stopped doing so over the holidays and I just stopped reaching out, stopped trying to communicate, everything. I’ve been a lot happier that way.

Is there anything you wanna share? That’s kinda the goal with every survey I take.

Ice Cream or Cake: Right now, maybe ice cream. I’m very picky about cake, and I don’t like the spongy ones aka most cakes I know.

J

Jumped rope for fun: That’s exactly what I use jump ropes for. I don’t think I ever used it for fitness or working out except for maybe PE.

Junk around you right now? I mean, not really. I have my embroidery stuff in a pile beside me, but I don’t consider them junk.

Joining anything anytime soon? Not planning on it. I briefly considered joining a gym as a new thing to do for 2021, but in the end I figured working out at home would be enough. Angela recommended the latter as well, so that’s how I abandoned my gym plans quickly haha.

January or July: I guess July? January always feels just a teeny bit stranger than other months, considering it’s the beginning of a new year.

K

Killed anyone: ...This serious?

Keeping a secret? I keep different secrets from different people.

Kicking someone off your top friends today? I don’t think that’s a thing anymore. Hasn’t been for a while.

Kiwi or Apple: Apple, just because I’ve never had the chance to taste kiwi.

L

Lost anyone close to you: I’ve lived 22 years, of course I have. I’d be very surprised if someone has lived that long but has never experienced losing people, whether from a fallout, from death, etc. Just this year alone I lost a great-aunt on my maternal grandpa’s side, and a ton of relatives from my maternal grandma’s side.

Last kiss, when and who: Gabie, three months ago.

List 3 people that you'll love forever: I can only think of Angela. And of course, Gab.

Lover or Fighter: Fighter, I suppose. I can be relentless. Right now with my breakup has been the only time I allowed myself to take a step back and not forcibly take things under my control for once.

M

Middle School: We don’t follow the concept of middle school here. The levels in middle school fall under elementary school as well.

Marital Status: Single.

Mom's name: Abigail.

Music or TV: TV.

N

Northernmost state you've been to: Batanes, which is as northernmost as northernmost gets in the Philippines.

Nickname: A lot of family members call me Byn, but for the most part Robyn has always been my main nickname.

Name your future boy and girl: I have yet to make up my mind about this.

Naughty or Nice: Nice. I never particularly feel ~naughty, and since the breakup I especially haven’t felt the need to be sexual.

O

Opened a piece of mail that wasn't yours? Sometimes I’ll open the electricity or water bill addressed to my parents out of curiosity just to find out how much we consumed in the last month. But nothing more than that.

Occupation: I’m an associate at a PR agency.

Owe anyone money: Nope.

Outgoing or Shy: Shy at first but I can get outgoing once I’ve warmed up to a person/situation.

P

Place you most want to be? Right now? I’d love to be at a coffee shop or bar at a higher altitude, with a view of the city. I used to go to a lot of these before the pandemic hit, but now I’m thinking of doing it again.

Purposely destroyed someone’s life? No.

Planning a major trip? Not really. Most tourist spots require swab tests and I am not having anything go up my nose.

Pink or Black? Love both, but I like pink ever so slightly more.

Q

Quit a class: I’ve never dropped a class. I’ve wanted to, but there was so much paperwork to fill out to do so and I also didn’t want to be behind on my overall schedule.

Quickly...the first word to come to mind: Whistle, because the pink/black question reminded me of Blackpink.

Quitting your job soon? No lol I’m barely two months in.

Quiet or Loud: I can be both, but these days I’ve been quieter.

R

Riding in an airplane: I have no idea what this is asking.

Ride, tell me about yours: ^ Same.

Running for any political office in the future? No plans to.

Rain or Snow: I guess rain, since it’s the only one I’ve experienced.

S

Siblings names and ages: Nina is 20, my brother is 17.

Shoe size: I fit anywhere between a size 6 to 7.

Shave daily? It used to be daily, but I haven’t had the need to since the quarantine began.

Shower or Bath: Shower.

T

Turning 21 was (will be): It’s been a year since then.

Texas, ever been? No but I have relatives who live there, so it’s one of my choice states to visit and stay at if I ever plan to go to the US.

Think you'll live to be 100? I doubt it. I don’t have any relatives who lived until that age.

Tame or Wild: Idk, tame I guess?? I don’t know what this is asking.

U

Unique quality about you: I feel like this is a question best answered by other people who see and interact with me more than I do myself.

Underwear on? Yeah.

Under your bed lies: Large containers with all the magazines I collected from childhood that I can’t bring myself to throw out.

Under or Over: Idk, you have to be more specific.

V

Virgin? No.

Vacation time left? I have five days left, including today :( I plan to be the most unproductive or bum-y I’ve ever been, because I have no clue when I’ll have a break this long again.

Voting in the next Presidential election? Of course.

Volleyball or Swimming: I like swimming more, but I like watching volleyball.

W

Went white water rafting? I don’t think so, but I would give it a shot.

Wearing right now: A hoodie that’s around two sizes bigger for me.

Write a sentence about you: About anything? I’m a little upset with myself for having been a bit lousy with survey-taking during the holiday break. I planned on taking a lot to catch up on the ones I’ve missed out on, but so far I mostly take just one a day lol.

West Coast or East Coast: East.

X

X-Rays in the past month: 0.

X-Mas plans: Had a get-together with my mom’s side of the family on the 24th; we hosted our own Christmas party on the 25th; and we visited my dad’s side of the family on the 26th.

X, does it mark the spot? Idk.

X-Tina or Britney? Britney.

Y

You lost "it" when? I mean, I’ve had more than one moment where I freaked out...

Your favorite song:  I’m really in love with Saw You In A Dream by The Japanese House. My favorite songs come and go, but this one has been a constant.

Your favorite place on Earth: Sagada.

Yes or No: Idk. I’m not enjoying these vague ass questions.

Z

Zodiac Sign: Taurus.

Zodiac Sign: Idk, I’m still a Taurus.

Zippos are neat, agree? I don’t have an opinion.

Zoo or Circus: Neither.

#survey #surveys

[shireness-says]

Wherever You’re Going (I’m Going Your Way) [5/6]

Summary: 1952. A lost boy without a home, Killian Jones rides America’s back roads on his motorcycle, searching for a purpose that’s just out of reach. This pit stop was only supposed to be a few days, a couple of weeks at most, but a pretty blonde waitress just might be his salvation. Is he brave enough to let her? Rated T for language. ~4.0K. Also on AO3. Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3 Ch. 4

~~~~~

A/N: Last chapter of plot - next week is an epilogue. Thanks for reading - let me know what you think!

~~~~~

The days to come are a kind of blissful in-between: after the date and the kiss that changes everything, but before  Killian’s tires have arrived and he’s back on the road again. The days are simultaneously too short and wonderfully long, the days too few and yet seemingly endless as Killian savors every moment together that he can. He makes a point to spend as much time with Emma as he can, knowing that their time will be far too short, taking her for ice cream and evening strolls and even letting Emma drag him down to the local bar and dance hall. He’d tensed as she’d pulled him onto the dance floor, far too aware of the many eyes around him — he’s far too aware that others think he’s trouble, and can only imagine what they think to see him arm in arm with the local golden girl — but the other townsfolk never show it. He thinks he might even see a few smiles among them, though that seems like it could be too much to ask for. As happy as he is to take Emma on the kind of dates she deserves, dancing and the like, he truthfully takes just as much pleasure in simply keeping her company during her late shifts at the diner, sitting in what is now his usual booth and flashing a smile just for her. There’s a gentle intimacy to this, being allowed to watch Emma in her own environment.

Still. As much he tries to revel in the moment, the future looms just ahead. 

“I don’t know what to do, Belle,” Killian groans as softly as he can manage into the phone. Granny’s back hallway probably isn’t the best place for this conversation, but it begs having, and Killian isn’t willing to drive up David Nolan’s long distance bill. The downside of the public pay phone is that it’s not exactly private; other customers pass periodically, searching for the bathrooms or winding their way back through to the attached inn. It’s odd to even think, and Killian isn’t sure how it truly happened, but he seems to have earned some level of acceptance amongst the locals, just by virtue of becoming a regular face at the garage and at Granny’s in the last handful of weeks. Most even nod a greeting, or offer him a brief smile. It’s jarring, in the most pleasant way, to be met with a kind of amiable neutrality after growing so accustomed to distrust everywhere he goes. 

That’s the benefit of staying in one place, he supposes: people come to know you, even just a little bit, even just enough to grow used to you and start to trust you. Those could be the seeds of a more settled life, if he wanted.

But that’s the whole problem — Killian isn’t sure he’s ready for that. Which brings him to this moment and this phone call, because it’s been nearly three weeks, and they’re expecting the replacement tires any day now, and Killian has a decision to make. Three weeks ago, there’d been no question — he’d be gone as soon as the tools were put down. Three weeks ago, however, he hadn’t yet met Emma — and Emma just might change everything.

The truth of the matter is that these last days with Emma have been the happiest that he’s lived in a long, long time, and he likes to think he makes her happy too. Her smiles and laughter and the way she chases after him for just one more kiss would suggest that to be the case. They went into this with open eyes, both knowing that whatever they became was subject to a ticking clock, but Killian still pauses when he thinks of leaving her behind. She deserves more than that; they both do. 

At the same time, staying still isn’t an option. Killian’s great cross-country trek has, more than anything, been a search for a sense of self, a sense of purpose; finding someplace to call home is a far distant third on his list of concerns. Ghosts still haunt him, and though he knows the wind on his motorcycle can’t permanently blow them away, it helps. It’s nice to just not think for a few minutes. Even hours, if he’s lucky.

(Then again, kissing Emma achieves much the same effect, in a much more pleasurable fashion.)

“I can’t stay. I really… I don’t think I can stay,” Killian continues. “But how can I leave, either? What if I’m throwing away my one real chance to settle down, and be happy like that?”

“But is that really true happiness, convincing yourself into something because it’s the smart or honorable thing to do?” Belle asks. “Or is that just a compromise?”

Killian stays silent, letting her words run through his head. This is why he called Belle in the first place: she has a way of pointing out the real questions he needs to ask himself without any judgement or demands. 

“You don’t need to have an answer now, and you don’t have to tell me when you do,” Belle continues, “but if you’re as taken with this girl as you tell me, it’s not fair to her if you stick around but constantly dream of leaving again. She doesn’t deserve that.”

“No, she doesn’t.” Killian can hear the soft tenderness in his own voice; no doubt Belle can as well. “And that’s the biggest reason I can’t stay. She deserves more than a man who would always wonder what he gave up. It’s not just places I want to see either, Belle. It’s… at the risk of sounding like some terrible cliche, I’ve felt like a shell of myself for a long time. The words shouldn’t be me, but they were an important part, and I lost them. Flying down the highway, seeing all the wonders this blasted place has to offer… that’s the only time it feels like the words might be in my reach again. I deserve the chance to figure out who I am after all this, even as Emma doesn’t deserve a man who will otherwise always be a little bit empty.” Killian sighs. “That doesn’t make it any easier to think about leaving her behind.”

“You could always ask her to come with.”

Killian’s heart leaps in excitement at the very idea, but he quickly forces reason to tamp it down. “I couldn’t possibly.”

“Whyever not? I thought you said she had a bit of wanderlust herself.”

“Yes, but…” Killian struggles for an answer, feeling like his brain is tripping over itself. “Storybrooke is her home. She’s got a family here, people who love her and would miss her. I can’t take her away from all of that.”

“Maybe that’s a decision she gets to make,” Belle replies gently. “Maybe she’ll surprise you. Maybe she wants the same thing, a chance to see what else is out there. You won’t know unless you ask.”

“Maybe.” Even as Killian says it, he knows that it’s a dream too big. He’ll never risk it — and Belle probably knows that too.

“It’s up to you, Killian,” she concludes, “but think about what’s best for you, now and later, okay? You deserve to be happy just as much as she does.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Once Killian hangs up the payphone, he fights the urge to slide down the wall into a crumpled heap. Even after his talk with Belle, there’s still no good answers.

He’s got a lot to think about. 

———

As long as Killian doesn’t think too closely about their looming, unknown deadline, he can luxuriate in the sheer quiet joy of spending time with Emma. It’s easy to get used to her kisses and easy affection and the way that she has a special smile just for him when he walks into the diner. It’s a beautiful respite he didn’t know he needed and is certain he doesn’t deserve.

But far too often and too quickly, good things must end.

The new tire arrives on Thursday. Killian does his utter best to ignore it. As eager as he was to get in and get out of this little nowhere town three weeks ago, that’s all changed because of Emma. The itch under his skin is as strong as ever — the desire to blow all the dreams and pain away upon the winds — but his attachment to Emma, though new and young, is deep. She’s a balm to all his lingering wounds, a bright spot in his days that he never thought he’d find again, and the idea of leaving her is near unbearable, even if the idea of staying is just as suffocating. 

There’s only so long he can pretend to work off a debt he’s long since paid, though, and while David will never say anything, Killian sees the confused looks that the other man sends his way each day those tires continue to sit on a shelf.

“You know, you don’t have to leave if you don’t want to,” David mentions with an affected air of casualness as he works on the undercarriage of someone’s truck. Killian has been drafted to assist — though it seems to be just an excuse to trap him into conversation, considering that the only way he’s been helping is to hand over tools that David could just roll out and retrieve himself.

Killian braces himself against the truck’s bed, sighing heavily. He can’t help the exhalation; inside his head, all of Killian’s different desires war with each other — to stay with Emma, to leave for her own good, to leave for his own good. Underneath it all, though, is that same itch that’s driven him forward ever since he landed in this country, and it only grows stronger every day.

Staying was never really an option — not when he still needs wind whipping past his face to ground him every day.

“I know. But I can’t,” he finally replies, head bowed in a pointless instinct to hide his gaze from a man already obscured. 

David rolls himself back out to the light. “Why not? Has anyone made you think you couldn’t? Besides Graham, I mean, and that really was just a misunderstanding —”

“No, it’s not that. I’ll have to disagree about the sheriff’s intentions, but you’ve all been… wonderful. You, and Mrs. Nolan, and… Emma.” Killian stutters for a moment over her name; though they both knew going in that this wouldn’t end in anything lasting, it had been easy to forget that in a week and a half of bliss, and she’s the one who stands to hurt the most. Still, he must press on. “Better than I deserve, really. And I know you’d welcome me with open arms should I choose to make your little hamlet home. But it’s… I’ve got this compulsion to keep moving. Chasing something, or running away from something, I don’t even know anymore. But one day… I hope I’ll figure it out, and that feeling will settle.”

David hums, taking the time to replace his tools. If Killian’s not mistaken, it’s a stalling tactic. “You know, Emma has this theory,” he finally says, “that home is the place that when you leave, you just miss it. She and Mary Margaret spent a week — not even a week in Portland shopping for wedding and household things. And that was it for her. She and Mary Margaret were still in this terrible little apartment, but I’ve never seen her happier to be there. Gave me the biggest hug when she saw me as I came to pick up Mary Margaret for a date.” David smiles fondly at the memory. “I suppose what I’m saying is… maybe it takes some distance to realize what you want. And we’ll always be happy to welcome you back, if you choose to return. You’ve got a job here if you decide that’s what you want.”

It’s a lot to offer him, Killian knows — more than he expected. This entire town and all the people in it — especially the Nolans, especially Emma — are all more than he ever expected. “Thank you,” he says softly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

David just nods before grabbing a different wrench and wheeling back under the body of the truck, but Killian thinks there’s an understanding there — that I can’t stay doesn’t mean not ever, just not now. There’s a time and a place for everything in life, and the place Killian’s at right now isn’t nearly settled enough for tranquil little Storybrooke.

He shouldn’t have counted on David keeping that information to himself, however. Half the reason he’d avoided the matter of the tire in the first place was his own uncertainty about how to broach the topic with Emma. She deserves to hear from him that he’s leaving again, but all attempts he makes to imagine that conversation feel inadequate — too flippant, too detached, too lame. Decidedly not what she deserves.

Trust his Swan, however, to bring it up all on her own.

“So,” she starts, arm linked through his as they walk down Main Street together, “what’s this I hear about a tire?”

Killian’s heart jumps into his throat; without even intending, he slows their pace to barely a shuffle. “So you heard about that, then.”

“David’s not great about keeping secrets from Mary Margaret, and Mary Margaret isn’t great about keeping secrets from… anyone, really.” Emma chuckles at her little quip, but it doesn’t hold the joy Killian’s grown accustomed to in the past weeks. 

(God, when did he allow himself to become accustomed to that — or anything? He was never supposed to stay longer than a few weeks, and this only makes it harder.)

“I want to tell you, but…” Killian trails off. But what? He was scared? He was conflicted?

“It’s alright, Killian,” she smiles back, albeit weakly. “We always knew this was coming.” Emma gathers a deep breath as if to steel herself for what else she has to say. “So how much time do we have left, then? I know the road must be calling you again.”

But you are too, Killian doesn’t say. 

“Two days,” he says instead. “Three at most. David and I got Mr. French’s delivery van settled today, so we’ll be able to put the bike back together tomorrow and I can hit the road the next day, or the one after.”

“That’s not much time,” Emma replies softly, looking down at their shuffling feet as if she can’t bear to meet his eyes.

“No.”

(You could always ask her to come with, whispers Belle’s voice in his head. He’s not nearly brave enough to listen to it.)

Killian feels Emma take a deep, strengthening breath before she lifts her gaze to meet his again. “Then we’d better make the most of it.”

———

The next evening, Killian takes Emma for a ride on the newly-functional motorcycle, trying the whole while not to think about how this feels like goodbye. He remembers how she’d asked, one of those first nights, flirting even though Killian couldn’t see it, didn’t want to see it. Emma had gasped in surprise and delight when Killian came to pick her up after her shift (an early one, today, that lets them take a little cruise as the sun sets before them), drawn out to the diner’s front windows by the putter of the engine. 

“Are we going to go for a ride?” she practically demands. Not that Killian minds, as long as he gets to see the grin that splits her face from cheek to cheek. 

“As far as you want,” he promises.

(It was only supposed to be a few days, a couple of weeks at most, but ask her to come with echoes louder and louder in his head with each passing hour.)

Killian helps Emma onto the bike as best he can while straddling the seat himself, but she doesn’t prove to need much assistance, still steady even as she swings a leg over the body. It takes some doing, but he manages to crane his body around far enough to press a lingering kiss to her lips. 

(Not their last, not their last, his heart insists, but his brain still whirs in a panic of not enough time like another engine he’ll have to fix.)

“Are you ready, love?” he asks when they finally break apart. Emma nods enthusiastically. “Then hold on tight.”

It’s almost idyllic, cruising through Storybrooke’s back roads with Emma’s arms twined around his waist. She particularly seems to love the straight stretches of road where he can really test their speed. As the wind whips past their faces, Emma giggles and shrieks with glee behind him. Other women might have been nervous about the bike, or fretted about the number the wind will undoubtedly do to their hair, but not his Swan. It’s obvious she’s having the time of her life, and Killian feels grounded in a new way to feel her body perched behind his.

(Come with, come with, could come with…)

“God, I see why you love that so much,” she chuckles as they roll to a halt at the pier. Killian will never get back in the water, but there’s still something soothing about the endless horizon. “It’s exhilarating.”

And maybe it’s the joy in her voice, or the way she smiles as she swings off the bike again. More likely, it’s the result of the words that have been rattling around inside his skull ever since he talked to Belle. Whatever it is, it dissolves any filter between Killian’s brain and his mouth and the words come tumbling out before he can stop them. “You could come with me,” he blurts out in a rush, only to flush red as he realizes what he said. That was not remotely something he meant to say, but it’s out there in the world now, his heart dropped at her feet for her to pick up or kick aside.

Not that she’s done either, yet. Emma stands shocked and still in front of him, eyes wide like she can’t believe what she’s just heard. That’s a reasonable reaction; Killian certainly can’t believe that he just said it. 

“What did you say?” she whispers.

“Nothing, Swan, don’t worry about it. I shouldn’t have said anything —”

“But you did,” Emma says, interrupting his backtracking. “Did you mean it?”

Killian sighs, sweeping his hand through his hair in yet another nervous tic. She probably knows all of them by now — the hand in the hair and the scratching behind his ear and all the rest of it. He’s a mess of a man, which makes him all the more certain that no matter what he might want, he can’t possibly deserve her. “Aye, I did,” he finally admits. “And I know it’s foolish, because I can’t possibly ask that of you, not when you’ve got a place like this to call home, with people who love you. Not when you’d have to put up with me. But it’s what I want.” He whispers it like a shameful secret. And maybe it is, a little bit — after all, he knows better than anyone that no matter how much he wants doesn’t mean it can ever happen.

“And why would you ever think that’s foolish?” Emma asks softly, stepping into his space to rest her hands on his shoulders.

“I mean —”

“I told you once that I wanted to be brave with you, and that it was my choice to make. I meant it then, and I mean it now, too.” As Emma pauses to stare into his eyes, Killian feels hope flutter in his chest, stronger and brighter than ever before, only to burst to glorious life as she finishes. “So ask me.”

It only takes a moment to swallow his nerves. “Come with me, Emma. Let me show you the world.”

Emma’s hands move to his face, stroking her thumbs along his cheeks to coax him into a smile to match her own. “Yes,” she says, softly, emphatically, lovingly.

And Killian finally allows his dreams to soar in flight. 

——— 

Their goodbye is sad, even though Emma assures everyone that it’s not forever. 

“I’ll be back, I promise,” she tells Mrs. Nolan, whose eyes brim with tears just waiting to fall. “We both will be.”

“I know that,” Mrs. Nolan insists. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t miss you! It won’t feel right, not seeing your face around town every day.”

“Promise me you’ll look after her,” David says quietly as Killian secures the saddlebags on the motorcycle. Emma has proved to travel light, just like him; she’d showed up with nothing more than a satchel, a tightly coiled bedroll, and a beaming smile. “Because Emma is special, and I don’t know what we’ll do if something happens to her. Or, more accurately, I don’t know what I’ll do to you if something happens to her,” he tries to joke, stretching a weak smile before falling back to something more serious. “She’s very precious to us — to all of us.”

“I know,” Killian replies, cracking a small smile as he watches Emma hug her friend. “She’s very precious to me, too. I promise that I’ll do everything in my power — everything and then some more — to watch over her and keep her safe.”

“Good.” David offers his hand to shake, and Killian grasps it firmly in return. Maybe it’s a sealing of the promise; maybe it’s a gesture of friendship; maybe it’s a little of both. Whatever the case, Killian feels something pass between himself and David: an understanding, almost a sort of peace.

Emma slides an arm around his waist, apparently done hugging and bidding farewell to her crowd of admirers. Killian could swear half the town turned up in front of the garage to send her off — Granny and Ruby, Sheriff Graham, Mrs. Nolan, and a whole slew of other people he only halfway recognizes. She’s obviously much loved; Killian could tell that even without David’s little speech.

“Ready to go?” she asks with a wide and happy smile. He’d understand if she was nervous, or scared, or sad, or anything else; that would be reasonable as she’s about to embark on a journey into the unknown with him. There’s only excitement in her gaze, however; it’s obvious she’s got a wanderer’s heart of her own.

“Whenever you are, love,” he smiles back.

It’s a matter of a moment to swing his leg over the body of the motorcycle and let Emma clamber on behind him with David’s help. As Killian starts the engine, the other man drops a kiss to Emma’s forehead that Killian pretends not to notice.

“Godspeed,” he murmurs, just loud enough for Killian to hear. “And you make sure to call and keep us posted, alright?” he concludes in a louder voice. 

“Of course, dad.” Killian can practically hear her roll her eyes, but he can hear the fondness, too. In a last gesture, Emma leverages herself off of Killian’s shoulders to press a kiss on David’s cheek. “Love you.”

“I love you too.” Tears gleam at the corner of David’s eyes, but he plasters on a grin anyways. “Now go on, hit the road before the sun gets too hot!”

Killian doesn’t need to be told twice. In a flurry of waves from Emma and her crowd of well-wishers, they slowly cruise back down Main Street, picking up speed as it gives way to a country highway.

“Are you ready for an adventure, Swan?” he asks as she twines her arms tighter around his waist, craning his neck to meet her gaze. 

“With you?” she smiles back. “Always.”

~~~~~

Tagging: @kmomof4, @aerica13, @thisonesatellite, @searchingwardrobes, @let-it-raines, @teamhook, @ohmightydevviepuu, @optomisticgirl, @winterbaby89, @spartanguard, @scientificapricot​, @snowbellewells​, @welllpthisishappening​, @tiganasummertree​, @captainswanbigbang​, @snidgetsafan​, @thejollyroger-writer​, @profdanglaisstuff​

#captain swan #cs ff #captain swan ff #csrt #Wherever You're Going (I'm Going Your Way) #50's au #my writing

[commentaryvorg]

Danganronpa V3 Commentary Addendums: Oddly-Specifically-Themed Edition

I mentioned back when I finished the commentary that I might occasionally make new posts with little addendums to things I said in my posts. I re-read this commentary a lot just for my own sake, and sometimes I find myself wanting to clarify existing points, elaborate on things, or just make a whole new point that I hadn’t thought of during the original commentary post.

So here’s a post kind of like that… but this one features bonus thoughts on a rather specific theme. People familiar with my content on my main blog may be quite aware of the reason I found myself having these extra thoughts on this particular theme, but for the sake of not alienating anyone not familiar with that reason, I won’t directly mention anything about that here.

Content warning for the entirety of this post: discussion of torture. And I guess a little bit for psychological abuse in a non-torturey way as well.

The escape tunnel

Consider the escape tunnel in chapter 1. After being the first person to flat-out refuse to keep attempting it, Kokichi makes a rather interesting comment.

Kokichi:  “You’re free to keep trying on your own, but forcing us to join you is basically torture.”

Kaede:  “T-Torture?”

Now, not to sound like I’m agreeing with Kokichi or anything (because I’m not, not quite), but here’s my new hot take on the escape tunnel: it really is a literal torture device.

Kaede:  (When I finally woke up, searing pain coursed throughout my entire body.)

Since it’s swallowed up by a minigame, it’s kind of vague exactly what really happens to them in the tunnel each time. But based on lines like this, and everyone’s general reactions after failing over and over, it seems it’s gruellingly physically exhausting and painful. They don’t just fail to escape; they suffer for trying to do so.

Which, when you consider that there were probably plenty of ways to make the tunnel nigh-impossible to get through without making it so gruelling like this, has to have been deliberate on the part of the gamemakers. This is more than just giving them a glimmer of apparent hope and then snatching it away; this is torturing them for even trying to act on that hope.

This tunnel is a torture device, designed to ensnare people like Kaede who are stubbornly determined to escape, and then to psychologically beat them into losing that determination by coming to associate it with nothing but gruelling suffering and failure.

Rantaro:  “They want us to be desperate to go home. Corner us mentally.”

Rantaro says this, but it’s actually kind of the opposite. This is to make them give up on ever getting out of here through their own power, so that they feel like the only remaining option is to do as Monokuma says and play the killing game after all.

It’s easy to see that this works on Kaede. It’s because of the disheartening experience with the tunnel that she can no longer believe things would ever be as easy as the mastermind letting everyone go once Shuichi captures them on camera, which is why she becomes convinced that the only way to be sure of stopping the mastermind is something much more permanent.

But what might not be so obvious is that the tunnel’s psychological torture also works on everyone else. Not only does nobody ever even think about trying the tunnel again until it’s chapter 5 and Kaito’s getting especially desperate to be a hero (and they have a way to disable the traps anyway), but also, nobody ever seriously tries to escape in any other way before then, either. They talk about it, but everyone’s too hesitant to actually act.

Only a few of the weaker people there would have been consciously thinking “escaping is impossible and trying will only cause us to suffer more”, mind you. That’s the same kind of blatantly-unhelpful attitude as Kokichi’s insistence in chapter 2 of “we shouldn’t co-operate because Monokuma will make us suffer if we do”. Most people should be able to realise that this is defeatist, and that of course they should be doing the things Monokuma doesn’t want them to do, whether they might suffer for it or not, because the possibility of escaping in the end would be worth that suffering.

If some of the more determined ones caught themselves having a thought like that, or realised that the tunnel existed to make them think that way, they’d certainly be having none of it. Kaito would fervently tell you that there’s no way that stupid tunnel taught him to just give up on ever escaping this place; why the hell do you think some bullshit like that would sway him!?

And yet, it did. It got to everyone in a psychologically subtle enough way that they don’t even consciously realise it did so, so they’re not able to push themselves to fight against it. It’s rather like how Maki gradually developed a heartbreaking coping mechanism of simply accepting her awful situation without trying to change it, just condensed into one afternoon of what really does deserve to be called literal torture for the sake of making them give up.

…But as for Kokichi being the one to make the point about this being torture, well, that’s more by luck than judgement. As usual, he’s really spouting self-preserving bullshit that completely misses the actual point.

Kokichi:  “You won’t let us give up and no matter what we say, you have the moral high ground… That… doesn’t sound like torture to you? When you say we can’t give up, you’re not inspiring us, you’re strong-arming us!”

Because, geez, way to blame the person who was manipulated by the torture device exactly like it’s designed to do, rather than blaming the people who actually built the device and who are therefore really the ones responsible for torturing everyone here.

  Maki’s assassin training

Another thing I’ve had a lot more thoughts about is Maki’s third FTE, aka the one where she talks about being tortured during her training.

Maki:  “They tried to break me during training, but *I* was still there.”

See, the thing is, while Maki thinks they were trying to break her by torturing her… she’s wrong. Of course they weren’t. They wanted a functional assassin. If she broke entirely, then that’d waste all the time and effort they’d put into training her this far. Sure, they had her friend as a backup option, but it’d still be a waste to have to do all the training over from scratch. They probably very carefully design the torture to not outright break their child-slaves such that they’ll become non-functional, while also making sure to pick kids they know are resilient enough to not completely fall apart through something like that. The possibility of Maki breaking under it was very, very unlikely from the beginning.

Maki:  “They tried to drag my dignity and tear it… To make me feel empty… But even then, *I* found myself. And then, they would do it all over again.”

This is a more accurate assessment of what they were trying to do. They were trying to break her sense of personhood so that she’d just be an empty, obedient tool who would do what she was told without question and never think for herself.

(And they failed, because Maki is incredible. I really love her way of framing it as “I was still there”, “I found myself”. It’s so impressive that she managed to hold on to her sense of self throughout all that, to the point of even being consciously aware that that was what she was doing. She had no-one to help her through this, yet she managed to somehow support herself through it all anyway, out of her sheer determination to do what she needed to for the other kids at the orphanage. Maki is so good.)

Maki:  “It… wouldn’t have been strange if I broke during all the torture. But even so, I tried my best. I wouldn’t have accepted the job in the first place if I knew I couldn’t do it… But most importantly, if I broke, then *that girl* would have replaced me…”

Maki still seems to believe that she was in genuine danger of breaking to the point that they’d have needed to outright replace her, though. If she actually thought about it from a logistical standpoint – which she’s usually very good at doing – she should be able to realise that this would be a very inefficient way to train child-slave assassins. So it’s interesting that she can’t see that.

I can only assume that that’s because the torture was so awful while it was happening that she felt like they must have been trying to break her entirely, and that she was in real danger of becoming non-functional. Which… of course she would have felt that way, regardless of what they were actually trying to achieve with it. Torture is horrible, and those cultists are the biggest assholes in the world for casually doing this to children. (Or at least, they would be if they existed, but I finally thought about this so much in the first place thanks to certain AUs in which they really do.) Maki is so, so strong.

  Something else I’ve been thinking about regarding Maki lately is the notion that, well, she didn’t need to have “willingly” chosen to become an assassin for the sake of protecting the orphanage and her friend. None of the kids they recruit ever needed to be given a choice in the matter. They’re orphans, and the cult runs their orphanages; it would be perfectly easy to force a kid into assassin training even if said kid didn’t care about protecting their orphanage to the point that they’d be willing to sacrifice everything like Maki did.

Maki’s not the only high-school-aged assassin, since there are others from her cult. She apparently doesn’t even have the most inherent talent for it, given that the cult was scouting her friend first. So I wonder if the reason Maki was deemed the Ultimate Assassin anyway is because the fact that she went willingly made her better at this than any of the other child assassins the cult produced. If she didn’t resist the training (beyond the natural human instinct to resist pain and suffering, at least), it’d be easier for her to hold on to herself. She chose to submit to them and shut the regular-person part of herself tightly away in order to be able to do what she needed to do, which meant she never needed to have that part of her be broken.

Maybe kids selfless enough that they’re willing to choose this are a rare exception. (Aside from the fact that it’s still not at all a choice, because emotionally blackmailing a ten-year-old that their effective family will starve if they don’t become a mass murderer is not okay on any level, but you know what I mean.) Perhaps all of the cult’s other child-slaves weren’t quite brave and selfless enough to have willingly walked into hell, even with the threat of what’d happen if they didn’t, and they needed to be dragged there kicking and screaming instead. In that case, if they weren’t choosing to submit already, the training would have had to beat them into submission, probably resulting in those poor kids genuinely losing most of their sense of self rather than just locking it away. They might have actually had to become empty, near-mindless puppets before they could kill people.

If Maki retained more sense of self than the other child-slave assassins, that’d leave her with more initiative in carrying out her kills than the unfortunate kids who could barely do anything except follow orders any more. Although Maki had no real choice over whether or not to kill people, she wouldn’t have lost the capacity to make at least some choices by herself within that, in terms of how to do so most effectively.

(Maki mentions at one point that she specialises in quick deaths – which seems to imply that not all assassins in her cult are necessarily trained to do that as standard. That was something she chose to do on her own terms, because she wanted to be as kind as possible while still doing what she needed to do. She still hadn’t lost the capacity to be that kind.)

So maybe, paradoxically, it’s because Maki had the most kindness and selflessness out of all the cult’s child-slave assassins that she ended up being deemed the “best” out of them at killing people.

  With all that said, while the torture didn’t break Maki’s sense of self, one thing it does seem like it managed to break is her belief in herself, her sense of worth as a person. Maki thoroughly hates herself – but it’s not just in the sense that she hates herself for having killed countless people. She also just doesn’t think she’s any good at anything else, such as taking care of people, persuading people, helping out in cases, even though she is good at all of those things. While she hates the fact that she’s a killer, her skills in killing people are the only part of herself that she has any kind of confidence in.

Maki:  “Something only I can do… I can think of just one thing. …I know what you’re about to say. But… that’s the reality.”

Maki:  “I was confident in my talent as an assassin. I knew I would be able to do it.”

And… that’s almost certainly deliberate on the part of her trainers. They tortured her, physically and psychologically, to beat her down into feeling like she had no worth at all. Then, based on her genuine confidence in her talent of killing people, I can only imagine that they filled up that void of worthlessness by giving her praise and validation – but only when she showed promise in the assassin skills she was learning, and for nothing else. That way, she’d be actively motivated to get even better at it and turn herself into nothing but a killing machine, so that she could get more of that validation and feel like she was worth at least something after all. Those assholes in the cult would have become something like her twisted abusive Stockholm-Syndrome-y parent figures that she was desperate to please despite everything, because she was just a kid and she had nobody else.

Guh. Maki deserves all of the hugs and all of the genuinely supportive and healthy relationships and I’m so glad she has Kaito and Shuichi for that.

  Chapter 5 stuff

There was a thing I alluded to indirectly a few times during chapter 5, not wanting to make it explicit when the game didn’t either because torture can be an uncomfortable subject. But since I’m here openly talking about all of this now with a content warning on this post, I might as well make my point from then clear.

Maki believed it was very possible that Kokichi could be torturing Kaito while holding him prisoner. That’s part of why she was so desperate to get him out of there as soon as she could.

(Obviously Kokichi wouldn’t actually have done that, but Maki completely believed his evil sadist lie. That coupled with her own experiences that paint torture as just normal gave her every reason to assume it might be happening.)

  Meanwhile in chapter 5, there’s the Strike-9 poison.

Although it requires time to circulate, even a small amount in the body will result in certain death.

This is… very unscientifically vague. How small of an amount? Every chemical that’s capable of killing someone is always going to have a minimum threshold beneath which there’s simply not enough of it to do so. The label on this poison bottle really, really ought to actually state that amount. Obviously it would vary from person to person, but the label should at least state the average.

Instead, by not stating an amount, the implication the narrative wants to give here is that any amount of Strike-9 in the body, no matter how tiny, will absolutely definitely be lethal. Which is not how pharmacology works.

I can forgive this, though, because it’s just a writing contrivance for the sake of the case. The writers wanted it to be an unquestionable fact that anybody who was shot with an arrow coated in Strike-9 would definitely die unless they drank the antidote of which there was only one dose. They didn’t want to bog that down with ambiguity based on the threshold of lethality of the poison and the question of just how much the arrows were coated with. Nobody was meant to get any kind of hope from thinking “okay, so Kaito was shot with a poisoned arrow and Kokichi drank the only antidote, but what if there just wasn’t quite enough poison on the arrow to kill Kaito?” Technicalities like that were not the point of the case.

It is also, for that matter, quite a narrative contrivance that apparently the entire bottle of antidote is necessary to properly neutralise the poison, such that there wasn’t the possibility of them splitting it half-and-half or something. Really the exact amount of antidote needed would probably depend on the original dose of the poison, and there’d be all kinds of ambiguity to that, too.

But shush. These contrivances are necessary building blocks to create a case where one of Kaito or Kokichi has to be dead and the only ambiguity is in which one it is. Just like the whole deal with the Exisal’s ridiculously convenient voice changer, I do not actually care what background details needed to be kind of awkward and forced in order to get this story to work, because the story itself is so damn good.

#danganronpa v3 #addendums #torture #abuse

[disconnected-from-reality]

Fanfic Rec: 00Q Part 3

It’s been more than a year! I have totally been procrastinating in doing this if I’m truly honest. A lot of things happened in my life as well! There are good and bad things, but what matters most is that I still have a number of fics to recommend for you! I haven’t stopped reading, don’t worry. 

Also I think it’s a good time to post my list. The next Bond movie has released its trailer and the 00Q crumbs we got from the trailer got a lot of shippers back on board. If you’re that person, you might want to check these fanfics out! 

To see the other parts, click here for part 1 and for part 2.

Let Love In by dhampir72  [Words: 21,437 | Teens and Up Audiences] They're still learning that love is more of a journey and less of a destination. [A series of interconnected vignettes].

Ulysses by girlbookwrm [Words: 89,065 | Teens and Up Audiences] “Paperwork for the new head of Q-Branch,” Tanner said. “Of course.” The words were like glass in his throat. Smoke inhalation was a bitch. His brain felt slow and foggy, like it was full of smoke too. “Who shall I take them to?” M lifted one white brow. “They’re for you, Quartermaster.” Bond and Q are drawn together by names, work, and a certain Aston Martin. In which Q is kidnapped once, Bond is poisoned twice, and Eve is a badass on at least three occasions. AKA that time I tripped and wrote 80,000 words of 00Q. All titles unapologetically stolen from Alfred, Lord Tennyson.

Espionage is a Family Affair by nagapdragon [Words: 78.403 | Mature] It's common knowledge that angels make good weapons and terrible soldiers. They're hard to kill, hard to catch, and leave a swathe of destruction wherever they go. That's why MI6 likes them. James Bond, Agent 007, is one of the most devastating weapons MI6 will admit to having. Explosions follow his every whim and he's nearly impossible to kill, despite the best efforts of terrorists worldwide. He's second only to the weapons MI6 pretends don't exist- archangels are only a theory, after all. Aren't they?

Bond to You by therunawaypen [Words: 5,749 | Mature] Bond isn't a name. It's a rare breed of people that have designated soulmates, to whom a Bond will be eternally faithful to. Every child dreams of being a Bond's Chosen soulmate. James uses his status as a Bond to seduce many a mark into thinking they're his Chosen, while deep down he resents his identity because he has been unable to find his Chosen. Then he meets Q that fateful day in front of that painting.

How Q Hacked Online Dating by JayPendragon [Words: 23,836 | Explicit] “How does that lead to…?” Eve waves her hand at the mess behind Q’s back. Q feels his expression morph into a sly grin. “I have a new plan. I’m going to stay on these dating platforms, but I’m going to treat them as databases. Rather than waiting for an algorithm to set me up, I'm going to try reverse-engineering this entire system.” In which Q works in the private sector, still winds up friends with Eve, and applies science to his love life. Obviously, Eve gets involved.

Leading Edge by Batsutousai  [Words:  7,251 | Teens and Up Audiences] All fae-born were raised on stories of how cruel dragon-borns were, how they had no care for anyone outside themselves and their greed, that they would sell their own mother's soul to the devil before allowing themselves to be hurt. They were told that all dragon-borns were to be killed on sight, and taught spells that would do just that, if ever given the chance. It would be just Q's luck that one of his agents was dragon-born.

Pen and Paper by Salios [Words:  5,300 | Teens and Up Audiences] Q wrung his hands anxiously, teeth gnawing at his lower lip. It was a bad habit, biting his lip, but he couldn’t help it when he was nervous. And he really did have reason to be nervous. Well, excited to the point of nearly crippling nervousness, actually. Today he’d finally get to meet his boyfriend of three years. For the first time ever.

people can surprise you (or not) by pdameron [Words: 10,538 | Teens and Up Audiences]   “I’m not you, Bond. I don’t exactly have a technique for getting rich strangers to like me.” ���Just do your naive cute puppy thing, and they’ll be doting on you in no time,” Bond replies as he pulls up to the grand estate. “My what?” Q asks incredulously. Bond doesn’t answer, simply giving him an indulgent smile. The fucker. (or: 00q meets Gosford Park. Except not really.)

A Common Solution by SailorChibi  [Words:  17,654 | Teens and Up Audiences] Bond has been ignoring his biological needs. Boothroyd is retiring and MI6 is in need of a new Quartermaster. What do these two things have in common? They both have an easy solution... if only M can get Bond to extract a certain hacker  NOTE: This does not have the “James Bond/Q” tag, but I’ll add it in my list anyway.

Taken by Nana_41175 [Words: WIP | Explicit]    Or, the cheating fic that *nearly* is! Q is engaged to be married, but not to Bond. Excerpt: Bond blinked. “Boyfriend? What do you mean, boyfriend?” “I mean exactly that,” said Moneypenny. “Honestly, what’s the matter with you? Q’s been seeing someone for over a year. And if I’m not mistaken, Daniel is going to pop the question on him this evening. Dan asked me for advice on the ring, after all.” NOTE: This is currently a WIP fanfic, but it’s almost done with 2 chapters left to be posted. Would be a bummer if I don’t add it, right? 

His Keeper by Nana_41175 [Words:  45,482 | Explicit] Protecting the Quartermaster entails a special set of circumstances, and Q is the last one to know. Excerpt: “Your identity has been compromised,” M said as he leaned forward in his chair, his features grim even as his tone remained even and calm. “I am standing you down from all your duties in Q branch. Kindly hand in all personal computers and devices. I am placing you on administrative leave, effective immediately. You need to disappear for a while, Q, for your own safety. Think of this as the holiday you never had these past two years. We will get down to the bottom of this and repair the damage done; otherwise I shall have to ask you to step down. ”Q gaped at him, finally speechless. “At any rate, quartermasters are entitled to double-O agents as bodyguards, when the need arises, and he personally volunteered,” M continued as though he’d not just dropped the equivalent of a bomb and a death sentence through slow torture rolled into one, “and I do agree that under the circumstances, 007 would be the best choice as your bodyguard.”

Daddy and Uncle James by 1MissMolly [Words:  26,115 | Teens and Up Audiences] James Bond can remain cool and collected in the most trying of circumstances. He is an expert at hand to hand combat and marksman with numerous weapons. He can seduce any woman or man he chooses. He has the highest success rate at achieving his goals, and he has his sights on the young Quartermaster. The only thing standing in his way is the only thing that will surely defeat him. A six year old girl named Elizabeth Park. Bond's planned seduction of Q is interrupted by the arrival of Q's daughter, Lizzie.

Treason, Traitors, and Treachery by Kryptaria, zooeyscigar [Words:  63,230 | Mature] All James Bond wanted was a quiet holiday on his luxury motoryacht on the Costa del Sol. Time to recuperate and think about his future with MI6. But his plans get hijacked when a traitor to the crown returns, bringing news of an even greater threat to MI6. And the traitor isn't working alone.Thankfully, neither is James.

Playing the Part by ElektricAngel [Words: 23,116 | Teens and Up Audiences] James Bond comes into Q Branch after a mission with all of his equipment accounted for and in tact, and a complete mission report in Q's inbox. Q is pleasantly surprised and more than a little suspicious. Rightly so, as it happens, because Bond makes an unusual request of him. And yet, his license to kill is not the only thing that makes the man difficult to say no to...

Breathe With Me by Flantastic [Words: 7,575 | Explicit] When James Bond goes back to MI6 following his disastrous relationship with Dr Madeleine Swann, Q wants nothing to do with him. Then there's an accident in Q-Branch...

Bittersweet by dr_girlfriend [Words:  14,229 | Explicit] The first time Bond flirted with Q, it was purely out of self-defense. The second time Bond flirted with Q was largely manipulation. The third time Bond flirted with Q, he just wanted to feel something. The fourth time Bond flirted with Q was out of sheer boredom.Somehow, flirting with Q became something of a habit for Bond.And then, it became something else.

A Bond of Matrimony by enigma_kar [Words: 12,691 | Mature] The one where Bond’s next mission involves going undercover with Q. Includes: banter, fake marriage, espionage, car chases, life-or-death situations, and Moneypenny taking far too much delight in the whole affair.

as permanent as stone cathedrals by pdameron [Words: 6,002 | Teens and Up Audiences] Q has been in love for two years, six months, and twelve days when James Bond walks away, leaving him with a bleeding head and a broken heart on a dark and noisy London bridge.

just like old times (please don’t ever change) by Rosslyn  [Words:  5,173 | Teens and Up Audiences] Sometimes when Q is alone in his workshop and there is an experiment that needs to be supervised and he can’t go home and he can’t sleep, he watches Bond’s vitals.

How Much Love Can the Weight of Water Carry? by 00QEros (Dassandre) [Words: 39,549 | Explicit] Though Bond returned to MI6 after his ill advised jaunt around the globe with Madeleine Swann, Q still struggles with his own feelings for the agent in spite of the fact that Bond is clearly not the same man as the one who walked away from their friendship on Westminster Bridge. James regrets having left London and MI6, but it is nothing in comparison to the remorse he feels for abandoning Q. However, James has made repairing their friendship his primary goal in the hope of gaining something he never realised he needed as badly as he does. But Bond really hasn’t had a good time of it lately. Breaking his leg in a freak accident, James camps out at Q’s flat when the white-washed, soulless walls of Medical become too much for him to tolerate. Unfortunately, his leg is only the beginning of Bond’s health problems, and Q is conscripted into being James’ caretaker. Confined to the close quarters of Q’s flat, the Quartermaster finds himself opening back up to the agent, but will the two men find their way to one another as they should have done years ago, or is time no longer on their side?

So I guess that’s it for now! I still have a couple in my belt, but most of them are still WIP so I’d keep them for now. I’ll be adding them once they are finished. 

#00Q #James Bond #Q(James Bond) #fanfic rec #fic rec