#AND he helps you on your dates and even helps you fake-fly a drone to impress jhon??? like COME ON one of these is the better man | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

erwinsvow · 3 years

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𝐚𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨

note: part two to the college headcanons! part one can be found here! i had a lot of fun writing these and i hope everyone enjoys them :) teacher/student dynamic warning for zeke and hange's, and i guess bullying for annie's :/

𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐨 𝐠𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐝

the very definition of kind-hearted frat boy who doesn’t fit the stereotype he’s been assigned at all

starts off with accounting before realizing he hates math, moves into business management and marketing

the linkedin profile is absolutely popping, 500+ connections and details about every club and organization he’s ever been a part of

the friend that helps everyone find internships and fixes their resumes while offering helpful advice and not being condescending… anyways so that’s how you meet porco

he works at the career center 100% and does various coaching/prep help, and you, pieck’s friend, are in desperate need of an internship

so you’re complaining to your friend as usual, when she tells you to stop by the building and ask for a “pock”

so you do just that, walking in and asking for “pock” and porco is a little stunned by this pretty stranger calling him by a nickname reserved for his close friends, and even then he just barely tolerates it

but he doesn’t want to correct you, especially since you’re being so sweet and he can tell you need some help

so a meeting at the career center slowly turns into facetime calls to review applications and last-minute edits, stopping by your dorm to help you fill out paperwork and walking together to mail it out

i have a feeling porco doesn’t wanna be too forward, and he thinks he’s being very aloof and casual, when he really just seems oblivious

and you cannot tell for the life of you if he likes you or he’s just being friendly since you’re close with pieck

finally after you land the internship and won't have your normal excuse to spend time with him, you get the guts you've been searching for

you tell him about the position later in the day, stopping by the center for hopefully the last time

"by the way, my number's on my resume if you're ever gonna ask me out."

leaves pocky-boy flustered and red and scrambling to ask you out, and you have been happily dating since

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫

oh boy

conny is a very typical college kid in the sense that he will sleep through every 8 am class he has, blow off class to go wait in line for the nacho bar, and has adopted the mantra ‘c’s get degrees’

but he is an extremely lovable education major with a focus in history

rarely seen without his shadow sasha, but now that she started dating niccolo, she thinks that conny could use a relationship too, and that it might do him some good to be with a funny, down-to-earth person

thus begins the most grueling two weeks for every girl on campus, as sasha hunts down girls that she thinks would be a good match for her best friend

this includes airdropping a photo of conny to the lecture hall with the caption “would you date this man? serious inquiries only”

creates a fake tinder complete with a google form to narrow down the options

however, none of this is necessary because sasha bumps into you in the smoothie line and causes your triple berry blend to go flying

she helps you clean up and idle conversation leads to you talking about dates and so forth

“well, i’d love to set you up with my best friend? how do you feel about a blind date?”

yes, conny met you, the love of his life, on a blind date set up by sasha with a stranger

it’s one of those funny stories that people don’t believe when you tell them, because how ridiculous is that, but you both think it’s perfect since you get along so well and it made all the waiting worth it

bonus: double dates with sasha and niccolo! fondue night at their apartment, going to the arcade and having to lug up sasha and her food baby while niccolo parks the car, just overall a grand time :)

𝐳𝐞𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐫

zeke yeager, ph.d. started his new job at university with one rule in mind: absolutely no illicit affairs

he also coaches the club baseball team, because why not get involved on your campus

he really believes that he’s gonna stick with it too, despite the overwhelming number of students who come to his office hours with questions that his less handsome teaching assistants could answer

but no, he doesn’t want to earn a reputation as that professor, and so he heads into the new semester with absolutely no lingering thoughts of an exciting little dalliance to get him through the monotonous days

he knows his huge lecture classes would always come with a few pretty students, but it’s the smaller, upper-level psych class he’s teaching when he meets you for the first time

zeke has you all figured out, or so he thinks. sitting in the front row, raising your hand for questions he wasn’t expecting anyone to actually have an answer to, neatly handwritten notes in a color-coded notebook. he wouldn’t peg you for the type to jump and take the risk by starting a relationship with a professor.

but he soon realizes that he didn’t have you as figured out as he thought he did.

you avoid the gaggle of freshmen during office hours by scheduling meetings instead, sometimes right before class, coming to him with two cups of coffee and a wide smile that actually had him fooled into thinking you were here for academic reasons

this facade quickly fades though, because after a semester of interactions with you and getting more and more comfortable with each other, to the point where coffee orders are memorized and it’s zeke rather than professor yeager, you’ve had just about enough

he knows he’s fucked when you come visit him at practice for the baseball team, bringing him a drink and engaging in conversation while the players watch their coach flirt with you

he’s especially fucked when he realizes he’s looking forward to practice just because there’s a chance you’ll stop by on your way to your next class

you submit your final paper early, nearly a week before it’s due and of course the first in the class to do so, and waltz into his office the next day with another steaming cup of his favorite drink

“you submitted your paper pretty early, you know.”

“i know. i also know that it means i’m not your student anymore, so if you were going to make a move, now’s the time.”

no, he definitely had underestimated how much he knew about you.

𝐦𝐢𝐤𝐚𝐬𝐚 𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧

mikasa is a forensic sciences major and is still debating on the minor- she’s torn between criminal justice or history like armin.

she loves her major classes, but she just wants something else interesting to look forward to as well, so armin suggests sitting in on a couple classes early in the semester and getting a taste for it.

so you don’t really think twice when she claims the empty seat next to you on the first day of classes, smiling politely and paying attention to the professor. you do notice, however, that she’s not writing anything down or looking at the syllabus, leading you to strike a conversation on why that is.

she explains herself and then before you even know it, the lecture ends and you spent the last forty minutes talking to mikasa about anything and everything.

she’s sitting in on another class tomorrow, and absent mindedly invites you to come along, to which you agree all too quickly, because why wouldn’t you

numbers are exchanged, times are fixed, and mikasa leaves wondering why she’s so excited at the idea of sitting with you in class again.

you two hate the history class she had chosen, with the professor droning on and on and you being focused entirely on the conversation you’re having with mikasa

until the professor kicks the two of you out for not shutting up, that is

you’re both laughing hysterically once you reach the hallway

“i’m gonna have to discourage you from doing that history minor if that’s what all the classes are like.”

“well, i have to do criminal justice so we can have that class together, anyways.”

𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐭

true to form, annie goes into one of the most difficult majors: cheg. definitely flies through intro courses with straight As and minimal effort, but that’s also mostly because all she and bertholdt do is study

reiner tries his hardest to get her to go to a party every once in a while, but usually to no avail because she always has an exam to study for

you’re a tutor, and honestly, you’d say you were pretty good at your job. you can answer questions and explain reasonings fairly well to confused students. but when annie comes to your office hours with some complicated problems and she’s asking for explanations that you just don’t have, you literally feel your face burn with heat for the entirety of the time she’s there

long story short, your first encounter is embarrassing, to say the least. you’re stumbling over words as you try to look through your old notes and piece together an answer for annie, who you cannot even look in the eyes.

anyways, she leaves eventually and you want a hole to open in the ground and swallow you up, but at least she won’t be back next week, right?

wrong.

miss leonhart doesn’t know how to express her feelings any better than you, so her way of flirting is spending time with you in the tutor center as you fail to answer her questions time and time again

you want to scream at her to stop coming because she and you both know you’re not helping either of you with this

but also you really don’t want her to stop coming because you don’t have any other ways to see her outside of class

both of you reach your wit’s end on the same day, her coming to you with the absolute easiest problems she could find in the textbook, and you with every intention of asking her out to dinner

she opens her book, and you reach and close it quickly

“unless this is the only way you know how to flirt, something has to change now.”

𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐳𝐨𝐞

dr. zoë teaches, just, way too many classes

we’re talking multiple chemistry labs and upper-level research courses as well

you’re just a ph.d. student doing rotations as per usual, and you’ve heard the comments from students senior to you about dr. zoë, who makes every student in rotation say hange instead of the formal way you’re used to

you’ve heard everything from crazy to genius and everything in between

what you weren’t expecting was… so good looking, and young? and comforting? and talking about all the things that you didn’t have the guts to bring up with other people, like how you always feel a little left out in the field and that you think no one cares about your research interests that much—a lot of stuff that you find yourself pouring out to hange on your very first day in the lab

you’re wondering why it’s so easy to talk to them, and why none of the other rotations ever felt this comfortable

and then you realize you’re spilling your guts to someone who probably doesn’t even care, and has way more to deal with on their plate than a ph.d. student with imposter syndrome

so you’re apologizing right after you’ve finished, when you’re met with the warmest look and a reassuring hand on your shoulder

it’s so easy to fall after that, with weekly meetings and regular check-ins, and you know it’s wrong to have this strange crush on your superior, but hange really feels like the one person you can count on here

you hide the crush in favor of getting the mentorship you desperately think you need, but it’s not long until you’re onto the next rotation and the next lab’s work is even closer to the stuff you love

you hate the way you feel, that you’re not gonna have any reason to keep in touch and you never even got to explain how you feel about them—and that you didn’t even get to experience hange’s energy because she was always listening and helping you out

it’s not until you get a text the night before your first day in the new lab from hange, filled with reassuring words and asking for a coffee date later in the week to talk about how it goes, that you realize just how well hange understood you

𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫

last but not least, miss pieck is double majoring in french and public health

absolutely obsessed with her majors and loves the subjects, but works herself to death to keep up with it all

you don’t even realize that the pretty, studious girl you’re seeing in the library all the time is the same girl you spot with some of your friends from class

pieck is as oblivious as they come. you invite her on study dates after you two are introduced by reiner, invite her to get coffee after a particularly late night of studying, pretty much start spending most of your days together

you can’t help but be disappointed that pieck doesn’t see you in that way, because you’ve slowly been falling head over heels, but you accept that maybe it just wasn’t meant to be, and you still love the friendship you two have

it takes a while for things to click for pieck, but they do right as the semester eases up

once exams are over, you two decide to go to these famous parties porco and reiner never stop talking about

it’s not the usual scene you’re comfortable with, but what’s wrong with letting loose a little, especially after midterms? no harm in having fun, right?

wrong again! you definitely get plastered way too quickly, and eventually pieck takes you to a room to settle down

drunk confessions of love aren’t usually the way to go, but you can’t help but reveal everything you’ve been feeling for the last few months when pieck is taking care of you in your current state

you definitely wake up hungover and ignorant to last night’s shenanigans, but you’re in your dorm, with a bottle of water and ibuprofen on the nightstand, phone plugged in and shoes off

pieck comes back with breakfast, coffee and your favorite pastries, and checks up on you

“so.. about last night..”

“i’m so sorry, did i throw up on you?”

“no, but you did say you were in love with me. was that just a drunk thing, or is it a sober thing too? because i think i’m in love with you too.”

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sukiglycerin · 3 years

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call it fate (or a christmas miracle) || katsuki bakugou.

* pairing: bodyguard!katsuki bakugou x earthbending quirk!reader (gender neutral!)

* genre: bodyguard!au, fluff, some angst, fake dating, aNd thEre wAs OnE bEd

* words: 10.3k (help)

* warnings: swearing bc bakugou, too much backstory, idk what bodyguards even do, there’s a fight scene (in a similar lieu to the sports festival arc), hunter x hunter? no this is tsundere x tsundere, i want to hug bakugou, yes i imagine mr. tanaka to be the tanaka from kuroshitsuji, christmas is a very minor aspect of the story (but the title was too good to resist)

* original request from @apexqueenie: Hnnnnnnnnnnnngh can I get a Bodygaurd Bakuboi x bratty reader who don’t like to be watched like a hawk cuz she wants to do fun things pretty please? // and from anonymous: if it's ok, can I request Bakugou with a reader who has a quirk like earth bending please? // and from @killkurzyackerman: ÒWÓ UR REQS ARE OPEN can u do a bakubabe with like lil sassy bad bitch vibe reader bc ive seen a lot of fics that sorta like softie or angel type and no offense theyre great but ya know sumthn diff this time please

* a/n: this is a very long fic, to say the least. i combined these three requests! though reader’s quirk doesn’t appear often, it conveys my thoughts on how bakugou would go about with that quirk. moreover, i hope this reader is badass? i realize that that characterization is quite hard for me. so, i hope you don’t see reader as super soft! i made them fight back against bakugou (literally, too) and kinda bratty hehe. i got to explore a lot of new things with this fic, so i hope they reach you well. this is a repost because it originally did not show up in the tags!

* synopsis: things had gotten boring with bakugou as your bodyguard. it was only until an interesting proposal by the man that things would change. well, maybe a little too much would change...

you, to be quite simple and honest, were getting tired of katsuki bakugou. he'd been your bodyguard for years (years! much longer than any other you'd hired!) and he was getting boring. dull. plain. any synonymous word would fit. he was boring like a 24 hour session of watching paint dry, monotone like a professor’s droning that never failed to put you to sleep. (perhaps he was even more spiritless than professor sato at the academy. he caught you sleeping no less than thirteen times in his class. the number didn’t even account for the times he didn’t catch you.)

to the untrained eye, katsuki bakugou is vibrant. he's aggressive, unruly, and ruggedly charming (somehow). he's a wonder in a suit-and-tie and the epitome of an oxymoron with his harsh words, rough hands, and crisp suit. it was that very reason you’d hired him; his personality excited you. it seemed unpredictable and it was a challenge.

like all other challenges, bakugou was not impossible. once the challenge was overcome, time flow was stagnant; you watched the ticking of a clock as the day passed by you. you’d gotten used to him and he’d gotten used to you. these days, he watched you like a hawk. you could never slip past those sharp eyes anymore, no matter what you did. he was not fazed by any of your antics (ticked off mildly, sure, but he could live with it).

“leave me alooooone,” you whined for the fourth time in an hour as you exited a mall. bakugou's hands were full of shopping bags filled with everything from clothing to the latest technological invention. you weren’t sure how he was supposed to protect you in that condition. though, to be candid - in the first place, you didn’t need protection. you attended a private institution designed to maximize the use of your quirk as a child and graduated with absolutely flying colors. on top, you’d taken various martial arts outside of school. you didn’t know why your parents were still concerned about your wellbeing. you handled it fine. around 99.9% of the time, you could easily beat your bodyguard in a fair fight. it was a regular practice for you; so common that there was a reward if a bodyguard could last longer than six months working for you. not that any of them liked to be called bodyguards.

“sweetheart, i would if i could,” bakugou gritted through his teeth. “pay’s too good to- goddamn, what did you even buy?” he’d stopped behind you to adjust his grip on one of the bags.

you hummed pleasantly, continuing at your same, leisurely pace. his question was a rhetoric; he watched you buy everything with your black credit card. you watched as a car pulled up in front of you.

“there’s our ride,” you said, brushing bakugou’s shoulder as you stepped into the car. he grunted in response, loading the car with your purchases.

“fight me with your quirk when we get home,” you said during the ride. “you have, what, a boom boom quirk?”

he made a noise in his throat, voice hard. “my quirk’s explosions. nitroglycerin.”

“dangerous,” you said through a smile. he’d never used his quirk around you, but you were already starting to see possibilities of strategies you could use.

“so says the master earthbender,” he retorted sarcastically.

you clicked your tongue. “we’ll see who wins in the fight, explodo-boy.”

“finally brave enough to challenge me, eh?"

“i was always this brave.”

“oh, give it up already, bakugou!” you directed another wall of rocky terrain toward bakugou, who blew up the land and sent rocks flying. his stance was hunched slightly, forehead matted with sweat. the sleeves of his white shirt were rolled up to his elbows, coat long abandoned on the rugged terrain.

“tired already?” he snarled. he put his hands together, preparing for a bigger explosion. you didn’t let him have this opportunity, slinging a large rock to absorb the impact of the explosion. he dodged swiftly, to your disappointment, but his attack seemed to be subdued.

you used his delayed reaction time to try to trap him with terrain under his feet, but he was somehow a step ahead of you. you heard a popping noise; bakugou was propelled through the air, your rocks blasted already and a cloud of dust forming. you cussed under your breath, already moving yourself away from his estimated landing spot that was too close to you.

he sent crackling explosions to the bottoms of your feet, but you easily dodged them. you created a temporary platform of elevated ground to protect yourself from the small explosions, jumping off it and rolling away. he was already aiming a larger blast toward you, presumably expecting your escape route. you figured it’d be a directed blast to pierce through a wall. you knew that the explosion would be unavoidable. to counter, you created a line of walls resembling dominos. they acted as stairsteps; you quickly ran up to the highest you could conjure in the short time you had before bakugou hit them. you grabbed the closest piece of rock that you could and leapt as bakugou’s blast made contact with your steps, chucking the rock at him and aiming to kick him when you landed. you knew he had no power to counter, being unable to react quickly due to the powerful nature of the blast he’d conjured.

you were about to win when the door to the training facility opened. you froze, literally, in midair and frowned, turning to look at the intruder.

“fighting, young-?” one of the butlers, tanaka, said. he was an elderly man with a gentle voice, but his eyes always seemed to glint with a clandestine humour in it.

“you can call me by my first name. please put me down, tanaka,” you said, no malice in your voice. he nodded, and you softly landed on your feet next to bakugou. you’d known tanaka for far too long for him to use honorifics with you. he’d practically raised you as a child.

“you haven’t fought in a while,” tanaka commented. he conjured a water bottle (you never knew how he had the right things for the right occasions) and walked toward you.

you made a noise of acknowledgement. “and it seems i was just about to win.”

he smiled tenderly. “i’m sure.” he handed you the water bottle, which upon further inspection, you saw was ice cold.

“thank you,” you said, gingerly accepting the beverage. the water flowed soothingly down your throat, easing the aching that had formed due to all the dust you’d kicked up in the fight.

“mr. bakugou?” tanaka asked, offering another water bottle (seriously, where did he get that?).

“thanks,” bakugou took the bottle. he drank feverishly, quickly finishing the bottle in what must’ve been two seconds flat. so undignified.

“y/n, you have an appointment in 15 minutes with-” tanaka said as you capped your water bottle.

“oh, yeah,” you said, waving off the matter. “i got it.”

you brushed off the dust on your clothes and started toward the exit. bakugou was quick to follow you, nodding politely to tanaka.

bakugou stood outside the door during the meeting you had with your father. you were not a minute too late or too early when you stepped into your father’s office, freshened up and dressed in clean attire, the dusty clothing from your fight with bakugou long discarded. the smell of leather and mint enveloped you, reminding you of the days you’d play in your father’s office in your youth. the room was always dim, the light on your father’s desk being the brightest object in the vicinity when the curtains were pulled down. when you were younger, you liked to pretend the room was made of chocolate, as the color was so dominant on the interior. your father was not pleased to find five-year-old you trying to bite the corner of his desk, to say the least.

the sight of his office was ever-so familiar to you, and once held a feeling of endearment in your heart. that was then; now, you only ever entered the room for a business-related matter. your face was blank, lips held in a thin line - you anticipated the topic of the meeting since your father first scheduled it a week ago. it, quite frankly, was inevitable; you could be neither opposed nor favorably disposed to it.

“i’ve found a compatible match for you, y/n.” your father sat at his desk, eyes intensely trained on you. “they’re from a well-off family with a strong quirk.”

compatible. it didn’t mean they got along with you or would be a good partner; no, it meant that they matched the superficial criteria set by your family.

“yes, father,” you said indifferently. he nodded, as if already expecting the answer.

“you’ll meet them soon. we’re arranging the date,” he folded his hands on the desk. “tanaka will alert you of it when it’s finalized. that is all.”

you nodded, taking your cue to leave. giving the room one last glance, you started to push the door open, then paused. door halfway open, allowing outside light to stream into the dark room, you looked back at your father. it was now or never to ask, you guessed.

“father… we wouldn’t happen to be having a family gathering anytime soon, would we? for new years or anything...” you hadn’t had any in the recent years, but you’d figured you’d ask. the scent of homemade food and the comforting chatter of the gatherings always made your heart swell.

he grunted, not looking up from the papers he shuffled around in his hands. “no.”

“ah. okay,” you said, sighing quietly. you knew better than to get your hopes up for such things. you turned back to the light, where bakugou was awaiting you, and shut the door behind you with a thud.

you walked in silence.

“so, no plans for the holidays?” bakugou asked bluntly.

“eavesdropping, i see,” you deadpanned.

“shouldn’t’ve had the conversation in front of the whole damn world.”

you rolled your eyes. “what about it?” you asked. “my lack of plans, i mean.”

“well-” he coughed awkwardly into his sleeve, averting his eyes. “that old hag- my, uh, mom, somehow got under the impression that i’m no longer… single. probably because of my profession - she thinks it’s ridden with scandals like a damn drama - but, uh… she’s expecting me to bring… company home for our christmas dinner…. and i can’t ask any of my friends, ‘cause she knows them… i wouldn’t damn ask you if i had no other option…”

“thanks,” you interjected. you held your tongue from making a comment about how little friends he probably had. “anyway, why don’t you tell her no?”

he slouched. “have you met her?” he grumbled. “the hag won’t listen to me. trust me, i would’ve, but… you can’t refuse her, once her mind is set on something… she’s too stubborn for her damn good.”

“like you,” you remarked, earning a small shove from the man.

“pl-” he choked, “pl - ah, fuck - please can you go to the dinner with me? it’s just for a night and morning, i need you to fake being my date. i can tell her we broke up later or whatever, i just really need…”

your lip curled. a desperate bakugou was a rare sight, and you wanted to relish in it for as long as you could. you feigned further consideration.

“but there’s so much i would rather be doing…” you whined. it was a lie. all you wanted was some variation in your life; a dinner didn't sound too bad. perhaps there was a dark secret within the bakugou family you could exploit.

“like what, wasting money?” bakugou muttered bitterly under his breath. you shot him a dirty look.

“fine, please?” he asked again. “there’ll be some damn good food… and, uh…” you tapped your foot with false impatience.

he cussed under his breath. “i’ll do whatever you want, damnit, just go with me! please!”

you cocked an eyebrow. “whatever i want?”

“yes, for a day,” he groused. “only a day.”

“alright!” you pumped your fist up. your father’s business training came in handy sometimes. “when’s the dinner?”

“this weekend,” bakugou said. “we also need to, uh, figure out how to act more… coupley.”

“...right,” you said. business class had not prepared you for that. “how the fuck do we do that?”

as it turned out, you two were not the best pair to fake a relationship. neither of you had actually been in a relationship prior to this. you didn’t really have time to date on top of your studies and such; you didn’t need to, anyway, because all of the people who were romantically interested in you bored you. their personality traits either consisted of rich or doormat. as for bakugou - well, he was bakugou. you couldn’t see anyone wanting to date that brute.

“i’ll pay,” you said upon entering a cafe. it was a big cafe, nestled in the midst of an even bigger mall. your tone was firm; there’d be no way bakugou would be paying. you looked up at the menu and said to him, “the usual?”

he was silent for a moment, and you almost thought he hadn’t heard you. he cleared his throat. “uh, yeah, sure. the usual.” weird.

you ordered yourself a drink and bakugou his usual order, a decaf iced caramel macchiato with light ice. he looked at you with a strange emotion on his face when you handed him his drink.you practically shoved it in his hands while he was too starstruck about god-knows-what.

the two of you settled at a booth (“table,” bakugou had argued. you eventually won the debate).

“so… trivia about each other, right?” you asked. “i guess we’ve got to get to know each other more.” he nodded. “well, first, you need to stop being so quiet. right now, you’re not my bodyguard or anything. we’re, uh…. dating. we’re partners. datemates. lovers.”

he choked on his drink at the word “lovers.” he sputtered, then gained composure. “yeah.”

“okay, i need to you to be more casual.”

“tch, who said i’m not casual right now?!” there it was; this was the bakugou you’d known when you first met him. he was awkward and amateur-ish, stumbling on his words and failing miserably at being polite. it was a fond memory. overtime, he’d obviously polished himself up (but only in the presence of you and your family).

“that’s more like it,” you said.

“tch.” he sipped his coffee, unrelenting to admit that you’d won.

“well, let’s cover basic facts. your birthday is april 20 and you like spicy food.”

he coughed again, setting his drink down. “yeah.”

“are you okay? d’you need water, or something? are the lights in here too bright?”

he shook his head, eyes still dazed with a certain unclarity. “‘m fine, idiot.”

you weren’t convinced. “...whatever you say.”

he took another sip, closing his eyes then continuing as normal. normal, in the standards of bakugou, of course. “i-i think i know damn well enough about you. don’t need to prove shit,” he grumbled the last bit.

“a little bit too well,” you muttered saltily. “well, this is a learning experience for me, take it or leave it. we need to get along at the dinner, don’t we?” you drummed your fingers on the table, eyes darting around at the cafe. the decor was pretty.

he made a grievance under his breath, but nodded. “there’s my dad and my mom - the old hag - and me. i’m an only child.” figures. he continued, “they both work in fashion… yeah… my dad’s more quiet than my mom, she’s loud… apparently we’re a lot alike - don’t comment - but yeah, she’s my mom. they live in shizuoka, and it’ll be just them at the dinner. you’ll need to stay overnight...”

“seems… intimate,” you commented offhandedly.

he whistled. “you think?”

the gears in your head turned as you stared into the space over bakugou's shoulder at a large poster of some featured drink. it was all small talk to you, but you saw this meeting for what it was. an opportunity. it was your break from the uniform days plaguing you for the past week's - he wouldn’t need to watch over you, now your fake lover. lovers were equal.

love - what was love? you didn’t know, but it didn’t matter. feigned or not, it was different. couples were moody, from what you could gather. one day they’d be hanging off each other’s limbs, and the next, they were bickering their heads off. it sounded fun, to be a couple with bakugou rather than his employer. you could say goodbye to normalcy and tedium.

you felt your lips turn into a smile as a plan developed in your mind, tapping the table at an increasingly faster tempo. who cared about the dinner? you were a fake couple! you could break away from the norm and find the things that made bakugou tick. you could gain a one-up over him. you could pick his personality apart piece by piece until it broke the monotony of daily life. you watched bakugou’s expression grow puzzled and frustrated. you pretended to be deep in thought, aware that bakugou was opening his mouth to make a snarky comment presumably about how the smile on your face was getting unnerving to him.

you didn’t let him speak, instead cupping your face in your hands and leaning in towards him. “how do you think we should become more intimate, kat-su-ki?”

you think you got soft over the years. when you first met bakugou, he was a rough little thing. being the same age as you, he was far less qualified compared to the other candidates to be your bodyguard. he looked out of place in his suit identical to everyone else. call it fate, or what you will, beckoning you towards him. when you first met him, you could’ve never imagined how far into the future you’d be stuck with the boy. all of the bodyguards you’d hired prior to bakugou’s appearance in your life didn’t last long. it wasn’t their fault; no, no, they were very competent. extremely competent - to the point it was boring, scrutinized under their meticulous gaze. you could do absolutely nothing under their watch, and where was the fun in that?

so, long story short, you hired bakugou for his incompetence. you’d low expectations for how long he’d last. you were surprised he could even put on a tie properly. from the way his hair spiked in every which way (“undignified!” your father had complained to you) and how his feet shuffled against the nice, newly polished cherry wood floors (“the scuff marks…”), bakugou was far from the epitome of a bodyguard. he couldn’t sit still and constantly made weird crackling noises (which you later learned were small explosions, not the concerningly incessant crack of his knuckles). the cherry on top to the disaster pie called bakugou, however, was his speech. he was polite, at face value, but also incredibly rough at face value. if you transcribed his words down, they’d be all standard formalities. it was the quirky way in which he presented his words; gritted out like somehow had forced him into this job. actually, scratch that, it was like this job was the be-all or end-all of his life. he was like an extremely tsundere shounen protagonist. he needed to win (“win what?” your father had laughed in disbelief) and be the very best. you'd… appreciate the sentiment more if you were his mentor in becoming a pokemon trainer.

of all the things bakugou was at the time, he was not a stoic old man nor a cold, indifferent boy who looked down on you snottily; he got the job. much to your father’s chagrin, of course. you’re pretty sure he had a backup bodyguard during the first month or so of bakugou’s employment, in case bakugou dropped out mysteriously for any reason.

surprisingly, bakugou was competent, but not infuriatingly so. he had snark, and under any other employer he would’ve been fired in the first week. he did his job, and that was all. it was fun to tick him off, too, and so easy. it was - dare you say it? - cute. you wanted to watch him fall apart and leave, as so many others had. you waited for the day he’d get used to you or vice versa, when you’d wake up with nothing to look forward to. in the end, no one ever stayed with you. you could usually figure that out within the first week of a bodyguard’s services.

these days, you started feeling that way. bakugou was just becoming everyone else you’d ever hired. he was becoming everyone else. for some reason, though, you still clasped onto the thread of hope that maybe he was different, and that led you down a series of events trying to convince yourself he was different.

at the same time, you told yourself he was like everyone else. did you want him to stay or not? you didn’t know anymore. maybe fate would spin something good out of this, or maybe he would. you didn’t want it in your hands anymore.

being flirty was definitely not the best route of plan, but man, it was efficient. what better way to fake being a couple than organically develop that relationship? that was your bullshit reasoning to the logical part of yourself (when it was obviously far from the truth).

yeah, it was definitely not the best plan. you bored of it quite quickly, but couldn’t shake off the lasting feeling of fluttering in your stomach. you supposed it was because it was the most reaction you’d gotten from bakugou in months. you’d never seen him so disgruntled.

he was very, very blushy. you didn’t know how you hadn’t learned of it earlier. his cheeks were dusted strawberry red, matching the hue on the tips of his ears. ah, tsundere bakugou had returned for a short period of time. you wished you could've taken a picture of him.

you tapped the tip of his nose and he hissed at you, cheeks darkening a shade.

“a boop?” he scoffed indignantly in disbelief. “who calls it that? a five year old?” but you could tell that he really enjoyed it on the inside.

“what- what are you playing at, dumbass?” he swatted your hand when you tried to boop him again.

“c’mon, couples need to do coupley things, katsuki,” you cooed. “like overly affectionate pda~”

you didn’t know someone could get so red.

“since when did you call me by my first name?” he grumbled, unable to form any other type of response.

“since we started ‘dating,’” you teased back, realizing that watching bakugou become more and more uncomposed was more fun than you’d expected. he'd never become so open around you; after all, you'd had a strictly professional relationship prior, so bakugou never expressed any hint of a personality other than his behavior when he was first hired. it was a good change, in your eyes.

then, as you did of most things, you bored of it. sure, flustering bakugou was fun because he was so outwardly tsundere, but your attention span was short. he was already starting to recollect himself in record time, face cooling from a startling scarlet to pink and remarks becoming increasingly cohesive.

you're not even sure if he was aware of your gaze resting upon him as you half-assed responses and watched the gears in his head furiously turn. when he got real worked up, he pouted when speaking and occasionally slurred words together. his eyes tended to veer away when he thought of a response and he always got fidgety.

eventually, you stopped teasing him. by this time, the ice in his drink had already melted and you were dangerously close to kissing him on the cheek (it was an impulse thing! you were not catching feelings!).

if there was one thing you learned, it was this: bakugou was truly a sight in his emotional state, though you could argue his unassuming state was equally, if not more breathtaking.

you noticed it as morning light illuminated him through the window of your room, hitting the silky fabric of your bedsheets around him. he was reading some book, dressed in comfortable attire that felt oddly domestic. maybe it'd be the most casual you'd ever see bakugou.

the thought struck a chord in you, making you wonder what'd happen after the dinner. it'd be awkward, for sure. it dawned on you that these moments with katsuki would vanish and things would go back to normal. they'd disappear into thin air, like nothing had ever happened. you weren't well educated in horology, but you were pretty sure that the time you'd spent with him would vanish as well, not to be spoken of or referenced ever again. time would keep trudging forward and you'd only be able to stare back as it disappeared on the horizon line.

you wanted to grasp the time that flooded your hands, encase the moment in glass and hold it in your palm forever.

"oi, idiot, what are you staring at?" and maybe it was the first time you truly heard bakugou's voice. it was rough on the edges with a soft core, you realized. maybe, after these couple of days, bakugou had started to care for you.

"nothing, stupid," you mumbled, returning your attention to your phone, but you couldn't shake off the newfound feeling that holed up in your heart. bakugou didn't care about you, you told yourself. you had a strictly professional relationship with him, and that was only broken for the time being because he needed a favour.

right. this was all for a favor.

nights spent testing each other on the most miniscule of facts and afternoons spent telling each other stories about each other - it was all nothing. it wasn't a big deal, you repeated to yourself.

still, you couldn't help but to look back up at bakugou and let your imagination run. he wore a black shirt and sweatpants, a complete 180 turn from the typical three piece suit he normally wore. maybe this is what he'd look like in the mornings if you were a proper couple, not client and bodyguard - maybe in another universe. you could imagine his bedhead, hair all messy and eyes still worn with sleep, vastly different from the professional persona he had around you. you'd wake up inhaling the scent of caramel and feeling his warmth surround you, feeling secure merely in his embrace. it'd be him and you in your own little bubble, unperturbed by the entire world.

wait, caramel? you wondered. where did that come from?

"you're staring again, dumbass," bakugou grunted, not looking up from his book.

"zoned out on the blandest thing i saw, sorry," you replied.

you sat in silence like that for a while. you weren't not exactly sure how it was bonding time for the dinner (were you sharing telepathic waves?), but it was comfortable like a fluffy comforter on a frigid winter day. it felt secure, like a home you never had in your own bedroom. every now and then there was the sound of a page turning from bakugou and a tap on your phone from you, and things never felt so normal. it was too short an eternity for you; before you knew it, you had some event to attend to for your father, solely there for the image of his company.

you didn't see the bittersweet look on bakugou's face as he watched you leave, or how he hadn't even finished a chapter of his book during the hours he'd sat with you. as his eyes followed your disappearing silhouette, bakugou wondered if he'd ever be able to see you like that again.

a foreign giddy feeling filled your chest as you got ready for the dinner with bakugou’s parents. you’d brought a bag for light travel packed with essentials (pyjamas, toothbrushes, and things like that), having planned ahead. you were typically indifferent to gatherings of any kind, having attended so many for your father. besides, this was a favor for bakugou. you weren’t sure why you were being so indecisive choosing an outfit for the dinner, or why your heart felt light as a feather, fluttering about in your rib cage boundless. this was no big deal, you told yourself. it’d only be bakugou and his parents; you’d spoken at gatherings of far more people with less nerves. you penned it down to only being excited for the food which was so coveted by bakugou. his mother, mitsuki, was apparently an outstanding cook (bakugou was apparently good as well), and you had to admit, you missed the heartening scent of homemade dishes. her specialty was spicy curry - your mouth watered at the thought.

yes, you reassured yourself as you walked out of the door and met the fresh, winter air outside, you were only in it for the food. you had an abnormally fast heart rate and a spring to your step (as noted by bakugou) solely for the food.

shizuoka prefecture was two hours away from your hometown, tokyo, and you forced bakugou to drive. the trip didn’t really feel like two hours, anyway, in your opinion. according to bakugou, that was only because you were sleeping the majority of the time and he was stuck with the dull task of driving and only the low hum of the radio to entertain him.

“well, this is it,” you said to bakugou, approaching his parents’ home, bag in hand. it looked quite elegant on the outside, snow thinly blanketing the well-kept greenery in the front. you turned to look at him. his suit looked nicer than usual, on full display because he refused to wear a coat despite the frigid air biting at any bit of bare skin unsheathed on your body. (“just the perks of having a great quirk like mine,” he’d said. you punched his shoulder.) you huddled closer into the warm padding of your coat, watching your white breath dissipate in the air.

“it is,” he belatedly said. his face was atypically solemn, eyes downcast and seemingly lost in thought. you didn’t comment on it. something about the nippy winter air numbed the atmosphere, as if all warmth had subsided only to your coat.

“do i look alright?” you asked him, trying to wipe away any last bits of drool you might’ve had on the corner of your mouth.

“yeah. you look… really nice,” he commented quietly. you didn’t mention that your bulky coat was covering the entirety of your attire. a heavy silence fell over the two of you.

anyway, the mood was quickly relieved by the presence of mitsuki bakugou, who greeted the pair of you at the door with her husband, masaru. bakugou really was a spitting image of his mother, sharing the same spiked blond hair and annoyingly clear skin with her. they also had similarly loud personalities, you observed later on. they’d often bicker with no real malicious intent. they were both much different compared to bakugou’s father, masaru, who was a gentle, soft-spoken man with brown hair and glasses.

mitsuki met you with enthusiasm, eagerly asking you questions about yourself and your relationship with bakugou. it was strange to see bakugou so quiet; though, at some points in the conversation, he looked like he was going to be sick. you didn’t have time to ask him about it, occupied by his mother’s unending but well-meaning questions. you’d expected to fib for most of them, but the truth easily slipped from your tongue. even compliments about him were half-truths.

"when we first met, he was like a fish out of water!" you recounted to mitsuki. "he stumbled on his words and my father didn't approve of him as my bodyguard. but, i pushed through, and here we are! right, katsuki?"

"r-right," he coughed, unable to look you in the eye and fidgeting nervously.

"it amazed me, too," mitsuki admitted. "i'd never seen our katsuki looking so polished before - it used to be a trouble getting him to even wake up at a decent time." she smiled at you. "you've brought a blessing on him."

bakugou cleared his throat. "don't talk about me like i'm not here," he grumbled.

"oh, katsuki," mitsuki cooed, pinching bakugou's cheek. "masaru, let's prepare dinner." she looked at you and bakugou. "the two of you don't need to worry about a thing - oh, you still have your bags! i’ll put them in katsuki’s room."

upon the absence of bakugou’s parents, the two of you sat beside each other without a word.

“are you… feeling alright?” you asked suddenly, breaking the silence. “you don’t look so well.”

“fine,” he grunted. “i’m fine.”

“are you sure?” you teased in an attempt to lighten the mood. “not nervous meeting the parents?”

he cracked a small smile, but his fingers still nudged each other in his lap. you touched his shoulder, first in an attempt to comfort him, but soon realized that he was very toasty. you scooted towards him; he stared at you with an surprised, indecipherable expression. you linked his arm with yours and leaned into him, inhaling his cologne and bathing in his warmth.

“what?” you mumbled. “you’re warm.” you intertwined his fingers with yours. “warm,” you happily cooed, eyes slipping shut.

“jesus christ,” bakugou hissed. “you’re freezing. is it humanly possible for your hands to be this cold?” his other hand enveloped your hand (still being held by his), rubbing his thumb soothingly on the heel of your palm. a bubble of warmth fizzed inside you, heart effervescing like a carbonated beverage. he held you long after your hand had passed room temperature, and you sensed that maybe the fuzzy feeling jittering about you wasn’t his quirk. it was like some sort of low fire, crackling deep within you. you hadn’t much time to dwell on the thought when your eyes jolted open, smelling really, really good food wafting from somewhere near.

“look at the lovebugs,” you heard mitsuki murmur, standing in the doorway connecting the kitchen to the living room leaning on her husband. “dinner’s ready,” she softly said upon noticing your eyes on her.

your eyes widened, looking down at the hand entwined in yours, and you look at the man next to you. bakugou was sound asleep, tranquil slumber having sheathed itself around him. his head leaned against the top of the couch, mouth slightly agape and chest falling rhythmically.

“hey,” you whispered. reluctant to let go of his hand, you used your opposite hand to tap his shoulder lightly. “hey, sleepyhead.”

bakugou groaned, eyes still closed and body unmoving. “five… more… minutes…”

“sure,” you said easier than you expected. you immediately let go of the man’s hand (he reached out toward you blindly at this) and stood up. “i’ll just eat all of that food you've been looking forward to by myself…” mitsuki and masaru looked at you fondly.

“nice try, dumbass,” he said gruffly, standing up and putting a hand on your shoulder. his eyes were lidded with torpor and his voice was an octave deeper. it sent shivers down your spine - you hadn’t ever heard his voice like that - and a part of you wanted to hear it again. sadly, the effects of sleep passed him quite quickly; by the time he’d said “let’s eat, dumbass,” and made his way to the dining room, his voice was back to normal.

dinner consisted of scrumptious-looking (and tasting!) chicken katsu, curry, and even more conversation. your mouth watered as you spooned yourself the perfect ratio of rice, curry, and chicken in one bite. you politely raved to bakugou’s mother about her heavenly cooking, and bakugou never looked so proud or embarrassed in his life. masaru discussed fashion with you, mitsuki occasionally chiming in and offering to show you pictures of young bakugou modelling. you courteously declined for the fear of bakugou’s face getting any redder than it was already.

“y’know, katsuki really wanted to be a pro-hero when he was younger,” mitsuki reminisced. “he even was accepted at that really prestigious hero school, ua.”

you looked at bakugou with questioning eyes, and he shook his head dismissively, hesitant to the topic. you wondered what he was doing here, as your bodyguard, rather than the hero he aspired to be. it wasn’t like he’d be unable to become a sidekick once out of ua, so what happened…?

at the end, you seemed to have gotten the approval of mitsuki and masaru. your heart twisted in pain realizing who you were and why you were here; this was asked of you, nothing real. you pushed the thought away, returning to the dining room after washing your hands.

“oh, my!” mitsuki exclaimed as you entered the dining room. “it’s getting late.” she turned to you. “we don’t have a guest bedroom, so you’ll have to share a room with katsuki, if that’s alright?”

you looked to bakugou, who seemed lost in his own thoughts. “sure, i don’t mind,” you replied.

“i’m sure you’d love to see bakugou’s childhood room.” this brought bakugou abruptly to his senses; his eyes rounded, face looking like a deer caught in headlights.

a smile tweaked your lips. “i’d love to.”

you didn’t know what you were expecting when mitsuki opened the door to bakugou’s room. certainly, though, you were not expecting this. his room was decorated from head to toe with all might merchandise, carefully collected through the years. it could’ve been worse, you admitted to yourself, but bakugou’s interest in all might surprised you. the level of admiration bakugou had for the former symbol of peace was clear, plastered on the wall posters and figurines which dotted his bookshelves.

“of course,” misuki said, “this is all really from his middle school days. he had to move to a dormitory system in high school, and i’m afraid he didn’t take much along with him…”

you tilted your head at bakugou, who’d taken particular interest in the ground with his hand sheepishly on the back of his neck.

“it’s cute,” you reassured him gently.

“though katsuki’s bed is pretty big, we could pull out a futon if you’d like…”

“it’s alright.” shit. why did you say that? noting the bewilderment on bakugou’s face, you added, “we are dating and all…” you mentally smacked yourself for assuming bakugou would be comfortable sleeping in the same bed as you. “yeah,” bakugou said, much to your shock.

“that settles it!” mitsuki smiled. she winked. “don’t stay up too late.”

after mitsuki and masaru bade you goodnight and closed the door behind them, you were left alone with bakugou.

“hey, is that a picture of you?” after looking around the room, your eyes fell on a framed photo sitting on bakugou’s dresser. you reached for it, recognizing a familiar spiky haired blonde boy proudly holding a trophy.

“wait-” the frame was already held in your hands.

“aw, you were such a cute kid.” you teased, “can’t say the same about now.”

he huffed, ears reddening. “there’s a photo album on the bookshelf,” he mumbled, pointing to a thick looking book on his bookshelf. you eagerly plucked it from the shelf, holding it like a precious treasure in your two hands. he shoved his hands into his pockets and rested his chin on your shoulder, watching you open the photo album.

the first photo was a baby photo, of course, and you could feel that it was taking every part of bakugou not to rip the book from your hands and scorch it all out of embarrassment. the first few pages were those of baby bakugou, eating food with his hands or playing with his parents. as the book progressed, you watched him develop a quirk (blowing up a vase) and become interested in pro-heroes (clutching an all might doll to his chest with a big smile on his face). the photos became more scarce as bakugou grew, but he seemed to grow happier. paging through photos of him in high school, the man’s gaze seemed to grow softer and fonder. his high school pictures consisted of him either standing in front of the famous ua or making an indifferent face with a group of his friends, who looked vaguely familiar from somewhere. upon further inspection, it dawned on you. you could recognize them all - they were young versions of the pro-heroes red riot, pinky, chargebolt, and cellophane. they regularly appeared on your newsfeed for one heroic deed or another, so it came no surprise to you that they attended the famed ua high.

as for bakugou, though? you couldn’t understand what he was doing there, or rather, here. if he graduated ua, he’d be right on track to become a pro-hero, not a bodyguard.

bakugou already sensed your revelation, shutting the book and putting it down. sitting on the bed, he squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“i know what you’re thinking,” he stated. he took a shaky breath. “i’m- i’m not ready to talk about it.”

“okay,” you replied. “i think… we should get some sleep. you have to drive back tomorrow.”

he snorted. “me?”

you nodded like it was a given.

the night was long, dragging in the same manner that you’d trudge through deep snow with weights on your ankles. it wasn’t that bakugou’s old bed was uncomfortable; it was surprisingly plush. you laid awake, though, as the clock ticked by and the house went silent. you felt as stiff as a wooden board, staring at the dark ceiling and thinking about everything and nothing.

your thoughts first strayed to bakugou’s childhood, and how he’d seemed the poster child for an aspiring pro-hero. how could he have given that up? he had friends, dreams, and a path open to his aspirations. yet somehow his life had deviated into this, pretending to date you for his parents’ sake.

it felt strange to lay in his bed in his parents’ house and not to really call him yours. not that you wanted to call him yours outside of this scenario. definitely not. it was just the guilt gnawing at you that impaired your proper judgement - your conscience felt pity. you pulled off a large lie to bakugou’s parents that you were dating when in reality, you’d never even gone on a proper date with the man; for all you knew, he could be a terrible person. he could have terrible dating manners and leave to the bathroom when the check comes in an attempt to force his date to pay. it was hard to imagine, but hey, you reasoned to yourself, it was a possibility.

“can’t sleep either?” bakugou’s deep voice startled you. you thought he’d fallen asleep hours ago.

“yeah,” you snorted. “and here i thought you were in the habit of always sleeping early,” you referenced his mother’s stories of him in middle and high school. you turned on your side to face the man.

“kinda hard with five different all mights staring at me,” he joked, gesturing to his plethora of all might-themed decorations.

you imitated all might’s larger than life voice. “i am here! … to watch you sleep!”

bakugou first snickered, which then transitioned into a full-blown, unrestrained (yet somewhat hushed) laugh. you couldn’t help but laugh too, watching his features crinkle and gummy smile widen. your heart felt peculiar in your chest, but you couldn’t figure out the feeling. in the years you’d known him, you’d never seen him so relaxed or open. you knew you’d miss moments like this in the morning, when you’d drive back and the deal would be over. it sent a bittersweet pang to your heart - why couldn’t moments like these last forever?

you woke up to find bakugou gone, leaving you alone in the bed with only a warm indentation next to you letting you know he’d just left. you rubbed your eyes groggily, sitting up and pushing the covers aside. you swung your legs over the edge of the bedside, standing up and making the bed once again. you padded out of the all might-furnished room to the kitchen, where you could hear quiet footsteps and the sizzling of a frying pan.

“someone’s finally awake,” bakugou’s husky voice remarked. he was standing at the stovetop, wearing an apron over his nightwear and frying eggs. sleep had worn his voice deeper; you swooned at the domestic sight before you. no, it wasn’t swooning, you told yourself. just… appreciation. you really wanted to make a comment on his muscles, bulging from his short-sleeved shirt.

“that looks really yummy,” you said, in no way whatsoever referencing his biceps and definitely referring to the egg in the pan.

“i’d like to pretend that was an innocent comment, but the direction your eyes are looking at beg to differ,” bakugou deadpanned. you looked away, flushed.

“so, whatcha making?” you said, plopping yourself on a chair.

“eggs, rice, natto, miso,” he said. “but nothing for you until you change and brush your teeth.”

you stuck your tongue out at him. “who are you, my mom?” you continued, “i used to hate natto when i was younger.”

“it’s good for you,” bakugou said, moving the egg onto a plate of steaming rice.

“you sound a lot like my mom,” you replied. “but i like natto now, just not too much of it.”

“i liked natto when i was younger,” bakugou said.

“really? all of my friends hated it. they complained about the smell.” you reminisced about your childhood days, when your biggest worry was whether you had homework or not.

“speaking of smell? your breath. go brush your teeth.”

“wh- i’m so far from you, there’s no way-”

“no hygiene, no food.”

“who even says that?” but you were already out of your chair and heading towards the bathroom.

“oh, by the way,” bakugou said as you were halfway through emptying your plate with rice in your mouth, “what do you want?”

“wha?” you said, chewing the egg-natto-rice mixture in your mouth. “what?”

“the deal,” he said. “before my parents wake up.”

“the deal-?” you racked your mind for any deal you’d made in the recent days, as you weren’t much a gambler, then it hit you. the deal. in an attempt to convince you to pretend to be his date, he’d said he’d do whatever you wanted for a day in exchange. you hadn’t thought about it at all.

“um,” you said intelligently. what did you want? you wanted to spend more time with him, but there would be no way…

“take me ice skating.” he choked on his rice.

“what?”

“i really want to ice skate…” you lied. “i’ve never been.” another lie.

“you want to go ice skating with me?”

“pay for me.” you could’ve paid for yourself. “and, you have terrible dating skills. how are you supposed to get a real partner? consider this beneficial for yourself.”

he blinked, taken aback. “...okay,” he agreed, dumbfounded. you hoped he couldn’t see through you. “when?”

“today, duh.”

by the time you finished your plate, bakugou’s parents had woken up to bid the two of you farewell. hours later, you found yourself at an outdoor ice skating rink in tokyo.

the rink was decorated festively; surrounding trees had been wrapped in golden lights and there was something in the atmosphere which bustled with cheer. those skating were either children or couples, laughing and skating together. you told yourself not to pay too much attention to them, but there was something about the way they looked so happy that made you yearn for the same.

you clumsily clomped toward the entrance of the rink itself, clad in four layers of warm clothing and worn rental skates. cold air nipped at your cheeks and your breath was a snowy white before your eyes. patting your cheeks in an attempt to half hype yourself up and half warm yourself up, you tensely stepped onto the frozen water. clunk. clunk.

“you look like an idiot,” bakugou said as you made your way onto the ice with slow clunks. he was surprisingly cocky about his skating prowess once he’d gotten his skates on, despite his lack of experience on the ice. he was unaffected by the chilly weather, wearing a thin jacket and denim jeans despite the vast majority of other skaters wearing winter coats.

“it’s cold,” you responded. slippery ice beneath your feet, you suddenly felt a great deal less confident in your ice skating abilities. it might as well have been your first time skating, in the eyes of bakugou. you took baby steps on the ice, both hands gripping the side rails while bakugou glided breezily past you.

“c’mon, idiot, loosen up~”

easy for him to say. “i’m- trying,” you gritted out, attempting to copy his fluid motions.

“hey, dumbass, take my hands.” bakugou stopped in front of you, both hands outstretched for you to hold. you looked at him warily, then accepted the offer, his hands replacing the railings.

“don’t hold them that hard,” bakugou said. “i’m not going to drop you. relax.”

you nodded, gulping as you released your death grip on his hands. starting to skate backwards (an incredible feat in your eyes), he slowly guided you along the edge of the rink. you spent most of the time staring at your own feet, trying to keep your balance and rhythm in time with bakugou’s. once you seemed to get the hang of it, he sped up ever so slightly, loosening his grip on your hands.

“just like that,” and his voice was much gentler than you’d ever heard it. you looked up to meet his soft gaze. your heart leapt and he quickly averted his eyes. “um,” he coughed awkwardly. “i think you’ve gotten the hang of it.”

“okay.” you started to let go of his hands, testing your balance skating without anything to hold onto. in small amounts at first, you start to let go, allowing your strides to become longer and longer. bakugou matched your pace beside you and eventually, the two of you fell into conversation. you’d both forgotten your own words about how this was for him to gain dating experience; it felt too real to be practice.

“the truth is, i was really, really close to becoming a pro-hero,” he confessed, “but i was injured in my third year. i had to take a break for a year or so, but by that time, i was too rusty for the job.”

“but-” you said, almost stumbling on the ice at the revelation, “didn’t you do all that training-?”

he shrugged. “it’s the reality of it,” he said dismissively, a momentary shadow crossing his face. he recomposed. “i’m over it now.”

you had the slight suspicion that his words didn’t ring quite true, but let go of it. still, you couldn’t help but think about all of his all might decor - he must have idolized the man, only to fail at his dream. his room was like a memento to everything he wanted yet couldn’t reach. “you wouldn’t have met me if you hadn’t become a bodyguard,” you said cheerily in an attempt to distract both him and yourself.

“true,” he smiled. then, almost to himself, he added, “i don’t regret that.”

the two of you skated a couple more laps around the rink. conversation faded and your feet became more and more sore after skating for so long. a chill had settled itself onto your bones as the sky tinted in anticipation of the evening to come.

“we should get going now,” bakugou said. “before it gets too cold.”

“yeah-” your phone buzzed in your pocket. “hang on, give me a second.”

it was tanaka, telling you that you had a date scheduled by your father in two hours. it took you a moment, it really did, to remember who you were and what your priorities truly lay.

you made it a point not to tell bakugou what the call was about on the way back. you told him it was about a business deal, and he pretended to buy it. the car ride was desolate, lacking all warmth despite the heater blasting. you felt guilty; why had you lied to bakugou? you and he both knew you were lying about the business deal. was it pity? why had you felt the need to protect him?

you could only amount it to the fact that maybe bakugou was becoming a friend. maybe bakugou was becoming someone you never wanted to hurt. your thoughts were the only thing you could hear over the buzz of the car’s heater. you looked to the sky with imploring eyes as if some cloud on the lavender-tinged atmosphere listened and could provide you an answer.

you weren’t sure if it was the clouds’ doing or some star hiding behind the sun’s light that washed a sense of solemness by the time you returned to meet tanaka at the gates. it was almost enough to make you forget the sad feeling you held whilst looking at bakugou one last time before stepping out of the car to greet your old butler. the feeling was unfathomable to you; in your daze on the ride back, there’d seemingly been no reason for such a feeling to linger in your heart. why had you felt so much guilt, so much sadness for this man you were supposed to be strictly on business relations with?

not that you’d done this, anyway. your business relationship with bakugou ended the minute you agreed to that favour he’d proposed, and was further broken when you ice skated together. you wondered if he felt the same as you, or if things would return to the way they had been after this date tonight. somewhere deep in you hoped it wouldn’t - hoped he wouldn’t forget it all. (“stay here,” you’d told him when you stepped out of the car. his stare was vacant; would he? you weren’t sure why you even asked.)

“tanaka,” you said stiffly. the air was frigid around you (when had the temperature dropped so suddenly?) and a breeze wrapped itself around your legs. an impulse told you to turn back, look at bakugou, and tell him the things you left unsaid - but you didn’t.

“y/n,” he nodded. it was like a wake-up call. this was who you were, truly. your father’s pawn, his company’s pawn. you were a face used for business and nothing more. you traded your feelings for your father’s wealth - that’s who you were.

yet it was the past two days that made you feel more like yourself than ever before. the time spent with bakugou, of all people, made you feel genuinely happy. he made your name feel more like yours than your father’s. it seemed it was he who could only coax this feeling out of you. you, certainly, couldn’t imagine it being anyone else. there was something unlike anything you’d experienced before which bakugou gave you. but you couldn’t let your father down, could you?

“y/n, we must go now,” tanaka urged.

you didn’t look back.

bakugou watched you leave with an inscrutable expression. as soon as you vanished from his sight, he let out a deep sigh and bashed his head on the steering wheel, then rubbed the spot of contact. that would leave a mark.

he wished he could pretend he didn’t know what your sudden meeting was about. he couldn’t. what kind of bodyguard was unaware of his client’s schedule? you were going on a date, on account of your father’s absolutely superb matchmaking skills. he wanted to strangle the bastard.

god, he was an idiot to have gotten his hopes up about you. just like countless other things in his life, you were unattainable. he was constantly in pursuit of the impossible, it felt, yet none of his endeavours’ ends had quite felt like this. it started when he was a child with a newly developed quirk. constant words of praise fluttered around his ears, all applauding his strong quirk and natural intelligence. it continued when he entered school, winning academic and athletic awards for what everyone called his talents. (he remembered looking up the definition of “talent” in a dictionary in his elementary school’s library and being sorely disappointed. no one had seen the hours he’d dedicated to practicing and studying after school - all of that couldn’t amount to what everyone else had called natural talent.)

in doing so - winning all those competitions - he’d somehow earned the approval of all those around him. it was never something he’d wanted or aimed for, but it soon started to fit him like a custom-tailored outfit. somewhere along the way, he started to seek out the approval of others, flaunting his accomplishments to do so. however, as years went by, one thing became apparent: the tactics used on his peers and teachers would never gain his parents’ approval. he so yearned for a tad of his parents’ praise or satisfaction; even an “i’m proud of you, katsuki,” from them would’ve sent katsuki to the stars and back. he never was quite sure, as a youth, how to gain this prize, so to speak. and so, for the sake of his parents, he became stronger and stronger and thus began his journey to attain the first impossibility in his life.

high school, at once, came knocking on his door in the midst of this endless journey. with it came izuku midoriya, the boy katsuki had bullied in middle school. this time, though, it was izuku who was stronger; katsuki had so wanted to atone for all that he’d done to the boy, but it proved something impossible. on the physical level, izuku had already forgiven him and moved on. it wasn’t enough for katsuki, who’d really done nothing to deserve izuku’s kindness. so katsuki set off, trying to truly deserve the boy’s forgiveness and make up for everything he’d done. in katsuki’s mind, there would be nothing he could do that would balance out the weight of his actions to izuku. hence unraveled the second impossibility katsuki set up for himself.

the third impossibility found itself in katsuki’s third year at ua academy. he was working for his parents’ approval and atonement for izuku; this impossibility, though, would send everything crumbling down. impossibles, unlike any math equations covered during his schooling, could not be cancelled out the more brought into the equation. it was perhaps katsuki’s only salvation and lifeline, his passion to become a hero. fate snatched this very possibility from katsuki’s hand, snapping the lifeline and dangling it just out of his reach. all of it was cruel - the sympathetic words spoken from recovery girl’s lips and the weeks katsuki had to sit out of hero training. even worse was how katsuki watch his grade drop from one of the top in the class to only passable in general studies, no longer sharp enough to qualify for a pro-hero. by the time he healed, he was rendered unable to rejoin the hero course. his goal was thrown away easily, becoming another impossibility.

katsuki trained himself physically for a new job. an acquaintance had introduced him to being a bodyguard, and katsuki figured that was close enough to being a hero. not that he particularly enjoyed the notion of waiting on someone’s every beck and call. but through and through his countless impossibilities and misfortunes, he had to move forward. he was tired, so tired - hearing his parents’ disappointed voices on the phone and looking up to see a billboard of the newest top pro-hero, deku. when he foolishly and naively got his hopes up about you, the logical part in him knew it was doomed. he knew that as he stared at you, illuminated by a golden light in your bedroom, it was ill-fated. you were a miracle opening up a new life to him - but miracles weren’t real.

of all the impossibilities in his life, you were the most painful. why was he cursed in such a way? where had the happiness in his life gone, if not with you as you walked away from him? he stared at his suit cuff, suffocated in the stupid attire. he should never have taken this job.

a knock. another knock. three more rapid knocks, and he finally looked up to see your eager face looking at him from the passenger side window. he hastily unlocked the car door with a click.

“finally,” your exasperated voice said to him, tinged in a happy hue that he’s confused by.

“wh-where’s tanaka?” katsuki stuttered. “your date-”

“i did it, bakugou.” you beamed at him. “i refused. i said no.”

“wha-what? you refused what?”

“the date, duh!” you laughed. you grew quiet. “i realized something. i realized that all i want is you, and it’s… it’s about time i start taking control of my life.”

katsuki cracked a smile. a real one, not painful like so many others he’d faked before. “you’re a dumbass, you know that?” and it was endearment, bringing you close to his heart.

maybe fate had decided to bless him. maybe it was all the impossibilities in his life that had cancelled each other out to give him you.

“oh, and by the way,” you said, changing the topic. “i’ve been thinking a lot about it recently. we need to have a rematch for that sorry excuse of a fight we had the other day. i will have an undisputed victory over you.”

“you’re on, moron.”

it was definitely fate that brought katsuki to you.

#bakugou x reader #bnha x reader #bnha fluff #bakugou fluff #bakugou angst

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allidoiswritewritewrite · 4 years

Text

Mr. and Mrs. Barnes

AN: So... I watched Mr. and Mrs. Smith last night, then immediately got this prompt from writingexercises.co.uk and I figured I would try my hand at it. This is my first fic in YEARS and my first fic ever here, so be kind plz and thank you :) let me know what you think, or if you think I left anything out of the TW.

Pairing: Assassin!Bucky Barnes x Assassin!Reader

Word count: 1.3k

Summary: Mr. and Mrs. Bucky Barnes had a happy marriage for six years, until they realized they were competing assassins.

TW: Some violence, shooting, mention of guns and a knife

To save his own life, he knew he would have to kill her.

That much became apparent to him as soon as he realized the woman who took a shot at him on a job that day was his wife of six years.

He sat on a rooftop, legs dangling over the edge while a cut bled freely from above his left eye brow as the only evidence of the job gone wrong. His hair hung around his face, the sweat beading off his nose as he pondered his options.

Steve’s voice was droning on in the background, telling him how he told him so, and lecturing him about how could he be so stupid.

“You were probably just a job to her this entire time, Buck.”

Bucky didn’t think that could be true. With his eyes shut and his metal fist clenched, he looked down and remembered the night they first met.

Dusk was falling over a sleepy Seattle as Bucky tucked a sheathed knife into the waistband of his jeans, walking into the quiet bar to enjoy a drink.

As he glanced across the room, he saw her sitting there. Eyes shining in the neon lights hung up behind the bar, smiling to the bartender while she swirled a glass of whiskey around in one hand.

Her hair was a windswept mess, but her put-together pencil skirt and blazer suggested it was just a long day at the office.

He felt like he didn’t have any control as he walked over and took the stool next to her. Like a moth to a flame, he was entranced.

That’s how it all started, six years ago.

Staying in that bar until the last call, going back to her place and pulling at each other’s clothes as they walked through the door.

Bucky shook himself out of the memory. That was before he knew everything about her was a lie. Maybe he was just a job to her after all.

He thought back to the mission the day before when he realized what a disaster his life was.

Alexander Pierce, class A scumbag and member of the World Security Council, was set to be driving through that desert any minute.

Bucky’s M82 sat next to him, his music blaring next to him.

Who would hear it anyways?

That turned out to be his first mistake.

How was he supposed to know someone else was trying to take out his mark at the same time and place as him?

Five minutes after he settled in, a bullet hit the sand near him.

Looking up, he saw a figure aiming an M82 of their own his way.

He grabbed his backup gun, an AK-47, and turned it on them, raining bullets on their sheltered area before running to find cover.

As bullets chased him through the desert, he looked to the right and saw the SUV carrying his target flying through the hellscape.

He didn’t realize who his would-be killer was until he got back to Seattle, rain pouring down outside as he reviewed the tapes from the day’s failed mission.

When her hair blowing in the wind, lips puckered while she tried to take him out, he knew who she was.

That’s when he thought: what if I was her target all along?

He blinked away the thought and steeled himself, bidding goodbye to Steve and waved off his offers of help.

“I’m with you to the end of the line, pal. You say the word and I’ll be there.”

No, this was something he would have to take care of on his own.

To save your own life, you knew you would have to kill him.

Your marriage was an impulsive one, but everything always felt so right.

Now, though, as you sat in the quiet hotel bar staring down at the whiskey in your hand, things had never felt more wrong.

Everything about him had been a lie.

He was no engineer. Hell, he’d probably just been trying to kill you this entire time. You scolded yourself as you remembered the day you met him.

You had stopped by the bar on a whim. Someone else had taken out your target before you ever had the chance, and you knew you were in for a reaming when you got back to the office.

That’s how you found yourself sitting at the bar, sipping a whiskey and smiling at a comment the bartender made.

When a man came over to take the bar stool next to you, you thought it would be accompanied by another pickup line that would send your eyes rolling.

But instead, a sideways glance had you turning in your seat when you saw his blue eyes shining under the brim of his baseball cap, standing out against the dark strands of hair falling out of it.

Like a moth to a flame, you were entranced.

And so, that night led to a whirlwind of two months of dating, an elopement and six happy years of marriage.

Until you saw him, gun in hand, waiting to take out your target.

You shook your head and downed the rest of your whiskey, feeling it burn as it slid down your throat.

The sun shone down on the desert sands as you fanned yourself, waiting in the vacant shed for your target.

Alexander Pierce, secretary for the World Security Council and a treasonous bastard.

He had been selling defense secrets to the country’s enemies, both foreign and domestic. At least 40 people were thought to be dead because of his actions.

You wouldn’t sleep any less at night for taking him out.

You had been taking shelter in the shed for a couple of hours, gun already set up and a bottle of water sitting next to you while you waited, when you heard someone’s music blaring to the left of you.

Looking down, you saw him. Broad shoulders stretching out a white t-shirt with sand all over it. Sweat slipping down his arms under the hot sun.

When you saw the metal arm, you knew who it was.

How could your husband, the love of your life, have betrayed you like this?

What if he was just there to kill you?

You couldn’t bring yourself to shoot him.You shot around him, got him to run so you could make a getaway.

Alexander Pierce was long forgotten.

A heavy sigh left your pursed lips as you slid some cash across the bar, stood up and walked out.

It was time to take care of business.

You noted that his truck was already parked in the driveway when you arrived at your perfectly suburban home, but not a single light shown through the windows into the night sky.

Opening the glovebox, you pulled out your handgun, flipped off the safety and took a deep breath.

You held your head high as you walked to the front door, opening it with your gun held out in front of you. You knew he had to have heard you coming.

It came as no surprise when your gun was knocked out of your hand the second you walked through the door.

That was all it took to start a tussle through the lower level of your house that left everything in tatters.

The sounds of skin slapping furniture mixed with grunts could’ve sounded erotic if you weren’t battling to the death with your betrothed.

Your back slammed into the pantry door, his arm pressing into your neck and cutting off your air supply for a moment. Wrapping your arm around his, you were able to get him off you long enough to catch your breath and send a kick to the side of his head.

“Enough with the foreplay, Barnes. Let’s get this show on the road.”

He advanced on you, gun in hand but aimed to try to hit you with it.

When you ducked, you grabbed his arm and used his momentum to get him to drop the gun.

His legs swiped yours out from under you, sending you reeling to the ground.

You latched onto his legs to pull him down and stood back up, but he didn’t follow far behind.

A punch that landed on his nose sent him stumbling back, and you pushed him onto the ground with a kick to his chest.

But that sent him just within reach of the gun you lost walking through the door.

Grabbing his off the ground, you spun around with the gun pointed toward him, his stance a mere five feet away mirroring yours.

His voice shook while he questioned you.

“Was any of it even true? Or have I just been a job this whole time?”

You shuddered, the hand holding a gun shaking as you clicked on the safety and lowered it, managing a whispered answer.

“If you think I could fake how much I love you, go ahead and take the shot Bucky.”

The seconds passed like minutes. It felt like the silence might swallow you whole, chest heaving while you watched his eyes skim across your face.

Tears shone in both of your eyes as he lowered his gun and took a step closer to you.

“I’m with you ‘til the end of the line, doll.”

/ f i n /

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #assassin!bucky barnes #assassin!reader #assassin au #bucky barnes imagine

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tartagilicious · 4 years

Text

Gavin Eternal Wedding Karma Date (translated)

there was an issue with Tumblr and the original text was deleted. this is the same content, but w/o the cgs and also bolded names to make reading it easier. sorry for the inconvenience :(

spoilers for a date not on the EN server below the cut~

MC: Anna, has everyone reached their places?

Anna: rest assured, i’ve checked with them all, there will be no problems, and the photographer will come find me with the situation of the drone.

Anna: you’re the bride of the day, if you run around like this, the makeup artist’s hard work for two hours will be in vain!

MC: you’ve all worked hard…

Near valentine’s day, the company planned a collective wedding called “Fairy Tale Dream”.

We ran through the city’s wedding company and finally found 99 new couples who were willing to cooperate with us in the collective shooting in the “Fairy Tale World” themed park in Lianyu City. (tn: loveland city)

We will arrange these 99 couples to stand in different positions in the park, from the lawn at the entrance of the park to the retro street in front of the castle to the church decorated with flowers.

The said drone equipped with a camera will fly through the entire park according to a predetermined path for shooting, and the new couples will have to put out a specific act when it passes.

We want to pass this kind of ‘one mirror to the end’ technique, where we will take the fairy tale aspect of the whole paradise and have the atmosphere and happiness recorded.

Though, I didn’t expect that a few days before shooting, a few couples couldn’t come due to emergencies! In our desperation, we could only find stand-ins among ourselves.

Willow, Kiki and I have gone together only to make it up to the number 99.

I smoothed out my snow-white skirts -- although the dress is only borrowed, and the groom is fake, I'm still sure that every girl will have a heart full of longing for such a wedding.

After all, it’s really beautiful…

Should I take a picture for him?

I talked to him last 3 days ago, and I don't know if his mission was going well.

As soon as this thought arose, my phone rang. It was my “groom” Minor.

[over the phone] Minor: Hi boss….

Minor’s voice was so sleepy!

MC: Are you still at home? Filming will start in half an hour!

[over the phone] Minor: I…

[over the phone] Minor: I stayed up all night last night and went to bed at four. Can I take a day off?

MC: What?!

This is the fairy tale wedding that I prepared for nearly two months, and already at the last moment before shooting, Minor has released my doves? (tn: she’s saying that because he won’t show up, he’s ended everything before anything even happened.)

MC: you’re my partner, who am I going to film with if not you?

For a moment, I was so godless that I couldn’t help but raise my voice

Anna: What happened? Minor won’t come?

MC [to Minor]: You come here right now, and I’ll tell the photographer to wait for you! If you don’t appear in front of me in half an hour, I will--

[over the phone] Minor: Wait, wait until I finish talking, boss -- Although I can’t come, your groom will not be absent.

MC: what do you mean?

Minor was one step ahead of me and hung up the phone without waiting for me to speak. I hadn’t even responded yet, and a familiar voice suddenly came from behind me.

Gavin: Am I late?

As I turned around, I couldn’t help but feel stunned. The man in a suit and leather dress shoes stood a few steps away from me. His light chestnut hair was covered in gold from the sun, his amber eyes were enveloped in fine shimmers, and the corners of his normally unsmiling lips were slightly raised. He had a clean jawline, and this smooth, somewhat sharp line immediately followed his thin neck and wide shoulders that were covered under his shirt.

It’s the man I’m familiar with, but it’s not the same as usual…

The ten slender fingers are holding a pair of ice-like crystal shoes that shine in the sun, and the upper part of the shoes shines brightly as well, like the stars or a firefly.

MC: Gavin, you…

I was still at a loss for words. Gavin came over to me naturally, stooped down and knelt in front of me. At the next moment, warm fingertips touched my ankles and I bit my lower lip subconsciously.

The wind in February is cold, but my face becomes hot instantly. At the same time, I clearly hear the sound of my heart in the left-most side of my chest, again and again.

I looked down at Gavin, and all of my emotions were stuck in my throat. It turned out that it was quite a feeling to be found by him in a big crowd. Every year, Spring is given meaning, and every moment of waiting for happiness is suddenly fulfilled. (tn: kind of complicated, but she’s basically saying that she feels the traditional relief and comfort of spring looking down at Gavin.)

After changing a shoe, I noticed that I was not standing steadily. Without hesitation, I put my hand in his palm. I let him take my weight and stepped into the second shoe delicately.

Gavin stood up quickly and took the balloon in my hand. Anna then stepped forward to straighten my hair for me and set the veil down again, making sure that my makeup had no flaws while smiling with ease.

Anna: I am a bit reluctant to send you off to marriage all by yourself.

I glanced at Gavin with corners of my lips turned up in a smile, and muttered softly.

MC: we’re not getting married…

Anna smiled and held her hands up in surrender, but her eyes still fell on the hands that Gavin and I hadn’t yet let go of. She looked cheerful.

Anna: I’ll clean up here, you hurry up and prepare.

I looked at Gavin and smiled at him slightly.

Gavin: Ready to go?

MC: ok!

I never thought I would have such a one-on-one walk with Gavin in these blooming flowers, leading to a fairytale kingdom.

With every step, the pleasant sound of the crystal shoes stepping on the ground rang in my ears. Maybe a fairy has put some magic on me? Maybe then I can have the surprise and happiness of Cinderella.

MC: Gavin, actually I was thinking just now, if you wouldn’t have seen me looking so beautiful today, it would’ve been a pity.

Gavin: Well, then it’s a good thing I came.

The designated shooting location for Gavin and I was the terrace on the third floor of the castle. I carefully took the skirt in my hands and walked up the castle’s circular staircase step by step. Probably only because I was insecure. Gavin held my hand sweetly, lifting it slightly. Every step was slow and careful, but he was patient.

Sunlight shines into the castle from the windows filled with stained glass, casting colourful lights and shadows on the dark cyan stone bricks and pure white steps. The huge dome itself depicts exquisite Greek mythology, and the golden bows and arrows of Eros around the edges point directly to the dark blue night full of stars.

A pure white and flawless wedding dress, magic crystal shoes, and a gorgeous castle -- although the teenage mind has imagined so-called fairy tale weddings countless times, I never imagined that one day my own dream would become reality.

Although unexpected, it made me feel that this arrangement of fate is a good thing for me.

I looked through the veil at Gavin. Somehow, since he appeared in front of me, even though it’s just a simple shooting for work, it’s made me inexplicably nervous.

MC: Gavin, when did you come back?

Gavin: Last night. Minor sent me a message two days ago saying that you were missing a partner, so I finished the task as soon as possible to come back.

My footsteps took a light pause. Sounds like I caused him trouble again….

(tn: and she’s just gonna ignore how minor never planned to come in the first place sfksjh)

I sighed to myself, a thank you almost escaping, but I swallowed it back after a short moment of hesitation.

MC: I didn’t expect the shoot to be temporarily short of people, but this doesn’t matter so much. You didn’t need to rush back.

Gavin: It matters.

There was a light smile on Gavin’s lips.

Gavin: Whether it’s real or not, only you could be my bride.

His tone still carries the usual carelessness, but every word and every sentence he spoke falls straight into my heart. Although he always understates such solemn promises, he never says things like that.

He is my fearless knight, always falling from the sky when I need him most, giving me the most comprehensive protection -- without exception. If I have him, I have unlimited courage.

I held his hand tight and wanted to convey to him all my euphoria and gratitude at the moment through my palm temperature.

Every step of my heels on the marble floor echoed throughout the building. This road to our future is paved by out short and long life in the past --

MC: Gavin?

Gavin: Yes?

MC: Do you think that if the prince did not find Cinderella, would he marry another princess?

Gavin: No. After you’ve identified something, you won’t just stop looking for it.

As soon as his words fell, we walked through the last step, and my eyes were suddenly blinded. Sunshine and white pigeond are spread in every corner of the terrace, the vines climbing on the railing to lazily stretch out to branches and leaves. Standing here overlooking the paradise, I see everything in the scenery reflected in Gavin’s eyes.

The shimmering coins in the wishing pool, the flag flying on the pirate ship below and another flock of white pigeons flying over the castle -- I couldn’t help but gasp.

MC: The last time I was here it was a rainy day, but I didn’t expect to miss such scenery!

Gavin: Since you see it now, it’s not a miss.

Just as I was fascinated by a white dove resting on the railing of the terrace, a ray of blue smoke floated over the large lawn at the entrance.

MC: It’s the signal to start shooting!

A cheerful waltz sounded, and countless gorgeously dressed fairy tale characters rushed from all sides to the main street in front of the castle, singing blessing songs for all of the new couples to hear. The white wedding dresses of the brides rotate with their elegant dance postures, blooming like blossoming camellia.

Several pumpkin cars slowly drove past, throwing wine and gold leaves and petals around. At this moment, the colourful balloons in the hands of the grooms took off. Pages of fairy tale chapters are being staged, and the magic and magnificent love on the pages of the yellow-ish book are now unfolding right in front of my eyes.

While I was immersed in the joyous atmosphere in front of me, the drone in the distance appeared in my sight -- I didn’t expect it to come so fast!

I took repeated breaths in an attempt to calm down.

Gavin: Cold?

Sensing my increasingly stiff expression, Gavin shifts closer.

MC: No, I’m just… a little nervous.

Although I am already familiar with the next process, I did not seriously participate in the rehearsal, after all. I can’t help but feel guilty about possibly ruining the upcoming official shooting.

MC: Gavin, remember to lift my veil later and let go of the balloons.

After this sentence was finished, I realised that the scripted action of looking at each other affectionately was originally written in the planning case by me….

That’s embarrassing.

I could feel my ears turning more red and tried to pull my hand out of his, but failed.

MC: it is to lift the veil and let go of the balloon, so….

So he should have a free hand. But, he only held my hand tighter.

At this moment, the drone was flying slowly towards the terrace. I was about to remind him again when a breeze blew in front of me, gently lifting my veil -- the piece of fabric was gone and now, I could clearly see Gavin’s face.

He stepped forward about half a step closer, released the balloons according to the predesigned plan, and the free hand wrapped gently around my waist. I blinked and clearly saw the smile of his amber eyes, the most dazzling light in the world, reflected in my eyes at that moment.

I don’t know how long it took before Gavin stepped away.

The drone had long disappeared, and the entire park has been filled with colourful balloons.

I took two steps to the edge of the railing, and even when seeing that the shoot was now completed below, the couples were still hugging tightly. There are also some jokes and laughs down on the grass -- you are carrying me, and I’m pulling you -- but whatever the action, everyone is smiling.

MC: That’s nice….

I was relieved by their smiles, no matter what the results of the shooting are, this moment makes it all worth it!

I found myself having slightly red eyes subconsciously, but it was suddenly enveloped by a burst of warmth. In the blink of an eye, something dripped from my eyes and crossed my lips that were always raised.

Gavin hugged me from behind, and when I imagined this picture, he tightened his arms and held his breath. He lowered his head, his chin resting gently above my forehead.

Gavin: What are you thinking?

I watched the bride closest to us raise her phone and take several pictures with the groom.

MC: When i first started this planning, I always felt that the form was greater than the content. After all, compared to a wedding ceremony, the atmosphere of a park and the drone shooting are the key points.

MC: But later, I felt that the form was less and less important. It’s the most significant thing to witness the most important moment in the life of so many people! It turns out that happiness can be seen: there is sound, there is temperature. Yeah….

My hand was covered with the back of Gavin’s, and my fingertips touched the rough marks his guns had left over the years. Then, he intertwined his fingers with mine, leaving no gaps.

MC: ...Happiness can be touched.

Gavin didn’t speak anymore, and a light smile flicked my ears. The long silence stretched this warm moment for a long, long time, but every second, I subconsciously hope that the next will be longer.

Soon, all of the colourful balloons disappeared into the clear sky, so it seems like the shooting should all be over.

I immediately picked up Gavin’s hand and ran back the way we originally came.

MC: come with me ---

I led him out of the castle and ran along the avenue full of petals to the deserted game area. The park is not open to the public today, but due to the shooting requirements, all game equipment is in operation. And lucky for us, the entire area is covered by one after another.

Seven or eight pigeons stood in the open space in front of the carousel. I took a few hesitant steps forward, and although I deliberately slowed my pace, the pigeons still jumped and flew off in surprise.

Gavin: Seems these pigeons are very afraid of life, and they’re not very obedient.

MC: No!

I reached into the small bag I carried with me and pulled out two small packs of pigeon food, shaking it in front of Gavin.

MC: these are props I “borrowed” from shooting. During this time, I’ve been friendly with them, so they’re a bit closer to me.

I threw a handful of pigeon food all over the open space. In an instant, all the white pigeons passed by in front of us and stopped to grab food between their small beaks.

Watching them happily eat, I couldn’t help getting closer.

MC: Eat a little bit more and go home full. But in the future I ask for you to visit often!

Group of pigeons: coo coo! (tn: felt like i had to keep it lol)

I do not know if it understood what I said. Several white pigeons raised their heads to look at me with beady eyes, but when I looked back, a fat white pigeon was already perching on Gavin’s index finger.

He was shrouded in the morning sun as thin as a tulle . The tie that had been neatly worn was slightly loosened by him, and the suit waistcoat was also loosened by two buttons.

I stepped forward and lightly touched the white pigeon’s talon, but the little guy ignored me and only looked up and Gavin.

Gavin: If it depends on me to eat, it’s probably not very hungry.

MC: either that or it knows you can eat a big meal here.

I flipped my bag open again, and I found the last bag of pigeon food. I ripped the package open under the heavy gaze of the white pigeon, and it stared at the food. The fat pigeon immediately flew from Gavin’s finger and stopped at me. However, it only took two bites before suddenly flying off --

Gavin: Someone’s whistling.

MC: ah, well, we agreed with the owner of them that they could be picked up around this time.

All the pigeons seemed to notice, and suddenly spread their wings to rise into the air, leaving only small scraps of food behind. Watching them fly higher and higher, I hurriedly waved at them, and then looked at Gavin with a smile.

MC: Shall we go home too? You can rest for a while and wait for me to cook a big meal for you!

Gavin: That sounds good.

Gavin strode forward and took my hand, and his brow suddenly stretched as he smiled slightly.

Gavin: You have cold hands (tn: it’s worth mentioning he has a very sad expression in this frame)

He immediately draped his blazer over my shoulders, and pulled his collar tightly around my shoulders exposed to the cold wind.

Gavin: Sit down and rest for a while, we don’t have to rush.

I looked at the low bench, then my wedding dress. After all, it is borrowed clothing….

Gavin seemed to understand my worries and took me into his arms directly without saying a word.

MC: Gavin!

Suddenly, my feet were off the ground, and I exclaimed in shock. When my reaction came, he had already entered the carousel area and placed me firmly on a wooden horse. However, as soon as he lets go, the game starts a new round of rotation. Sitting on the shifting wooden horse, I unexpectedly lost my balance!

Subconsciously, my hands grabbed for the nearest support -- a white dress collar.

Gavin: Afraid? I won’t let you fall.

He took another half step, and I was finally able to relax after regaining my sense of security.

It’s just that I still dare not let go with my feet off the ground, so I subconsciously gently hooked my arms around his shoulder. A brilliant string of lights shone above my head, and warm and joyful music was playing. In a flash, I felt like I was pulled back into the fairy tale dream.

MC: Gavin… Thank you for coming back for me.

Gavin: What?

MC: Whether it’s true or false, I want to only be your bride.

The bell of noon is ringing -- the fairy’s magic has not disappeared. My knight, who has seen me look so embarrassed and silly for so many times, still pulls out his sword in the face of the evil dragon and witch, and firmly stands in front of me.

His tall back is the deepest notch left in my memory. The wind and frost condensed in his eyes is the starlight that I am willing to look to for my entire life. The sea breeze blows between my fingers, and I gather my fingers to hold them tightly in my palm.

At this moment, I don’t know how I can express my love for him in words. I can only stare at him in wonder, and I can’t bear to look away

Gavin: ……

With a small chuckle, he leaned over and drew closer to me. At the moment when our eyes were locked, I held my breath slightly, and then he moved closer and dropped a soft kiss on my lips.

Afterwards, I saw the colourful lights on the top of the carousel’s stacked halo, and saw the white pigeons passing through the cloudless sky -- I wondered for a moment whether I fell into the most beautiful dream in the world.

Gavin’s warm breath completely surrounded me. He held my face tenderly in one hand and rested the other gently on my waist.

Every plunder did not go in depth, nor did he leave. I was dazzled by it and did not want to wake up.

Gavin: When you are ready -- you can be my bride at any time

#mr love queen’s choice #mlqc gavin #mr love queen’s choice spoilers #mlqc #mr love queen’s choice gavin #mr love #mlqc spoilers #mr love gavin #恋与制作人 #白起 #恋与制作人白起 #mr love dream date #mr love date #mr love translation #game translation #the pics are so BLURRY I’m sorry :(

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ducktracy · 4 years

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154. porky’s road race (1937)

release date: february 6th, 1937

series: looney tunes

director: frank tashlin

starring: joe dougherty (porky), billy bletcher (borax karoff), tedd pierce (w.c. fields)

because of the 10 photo limit i can’t post a photo, but you’re lucky i can read! this is the first of many cartoons that begins with a fake disclaimer (often used exclusively for facetious purposes):

FOREWORD:—

all the characters in this picture are strictly phoney! any fancied resemblance to any living person is the bunk! any incident portrayed is pure fiction!

and so, of course, the cartoon deals with an amalgamation of celebrity caricatures, all competing in a road race, with plucky little porky reduces to a mere shadow in the competition... or so we think.

frank tashlin provides a clever segue into the cartoon as the title card fades into a banner that still advertises PORKY’S ROAD RACE —

first prize....$2,000,000.00

less tax.......$1,999,998.37

net..............$1.63

a very clever gag that would be used time and time again in many a looney tunes cartoon.

pan down from the banner to an extended garage of cars. “in my merry oldsmobile” underscores the scene (and a hearty chunk of the short), stalling’s music transforming into whistling as we hone in on porky hammering away at a behemoth of an engine. another “i would NOT want to animate that” moment from a tashlin cartoon—there’s so many little movements happening at once! to top the gag off, the behemoth engine slides out of view, and we see porky hammering on his OWN engine, a dinky, pathetic excuse of a machine. wonderful setup as always.

and, because frank warned us, we now see caricatures of Totally Fictitious Celebrities who in fact do not exist. stan laurel and oliver hardy start us off, both seesawing on a sawhorse. laurel scratches his hatless head (which spins around in circles behind him on the board) while hardy glares at him. both make their contributions to the preparations for the race—laurel pumps up a tire, while hardy raises the car jack, both contraptions connected to the seesaw. a lot of meticulous details and animation, lots too look at.

next victim is charlie chaplin, who’s going to town with a spanner wrench in the engine. the music is wonderfully hilarious—still an underscore of “in my merry oldsmobile”, but chaplin’s frantic movements are accompanied by the quick chuffs of a calliope, syncopated with the music. chaplin moves from one car to the next, wobbling along with the same frantic movements. he heads over to another car, emblazoned with three stars on the side. chaplin prepare to twist a bulb poking out of the car, when in reality, the bulb is just the bulbous nose of w.c. fields (not in pig form this time!), who chews him out. “heeeey, whaddaya think you’re doing here, my good man? keep your wrenches out of my proboscis, yeeeaaaah.” tedd pierce’s drawl is lovely as always.

next is elderly actress edna may oliver (who really wasn’t all that old, she was only 54 in 1937, and would die on her 59th birthday in 1942), sitting in her jalopy. she pegs w.c. fields for assistance, a man doing her voice—imdb lists it as dave barry, but imdb is about as reliable as wikipedia; not very. fields lumbers out of his car, droning in terms of endearment (“my little demitasse, my little chickadee, my little bonnie lassie...”) tashlin does a great job of stretching out fields’ actions, purposefully making him take forever to put on his hat and coat and get to the point, but almost to the point where it grows tedious and the joke dies off. nevertheless, tashlin compensates with the product of the build up: fields pours a bottle of alcohol into the engine, and the car launches into a hiccuping frenzy, faster than the eye can see. a faithful gag we’ve been seeing since 1931 with you don’t know what you’re doin’! (which is still my favorite ising cartoon melody)

an unseen greta garbo works beneath her car, and all we see is her giant shoes (a reoccurring garbo gag), providing her catchphrase of “i want to be alone” as “at last, i am alone.” the next car is no car at all, but a full bathtub, an engine with a propeller sputtering in the water. a zoom out reveals the driver as charles laughton, donning a captain’s hat and tipping it wordlessly to the audience. laughton played captain bligh in MGM’s mutiny on the bounty (1935), which even inspired such shorts like jack king’s shangahied shipmates.

the next caricature is probably my favorite, or at least pun wise. billy bletcher’s villainous bellow thunders as we hone in on a shed. if the skull and crossbones mounted to the wooden doors wasn’t enough of a turnoff, the giant sign shouting BORAX KAROFF — KEEP OUT! certainly is. borax karoff is a take on actor boris karloff, who played frankenstein’s monster in frankenstein. while billy bletcher supplies his voice, karloff WOULD work with a rather notable looney tunes alumnus, voicing the grinch on chuck jones’ how the grinch stole christmas! borax is a compound of boron, used to help clean cars as well as a number of other uses. i’m a sucker for puns. borax karoff is depicted as frankenstein’s monster, lubing up his giant of an engine. and, for good measure, his car number is 13. what else would it be? karoff crawls into his limo of a car and revs the engine, the skull hood ornament chattering like crazy.

tashlin’s distaste for porky is certainly starting to become more noticeable, because only now does he say his first lines of the short approximately halfway through the cartoon. an announcer (who sounds like tedd pierce to me) calls “calling all stars! calling all stars!” (as opposed to calling all cars), signaling the start of the race. porky, still whistling “in my merry oldsmobile”, obeys the cue and gives a few happy “oh boy, oh boy, oh boys!” the animation is exceptionally smooth, flouncy, and weighted as he bounces out of his car, out of frame, and then bouncing ON his car into the seat that awaits him, now donning his racing gear. with the way the eyes are drawn, it looks possibly like norm mccabe animation? i wouldn’t quote myself on that, though. the car sputters and jerks to life, an unpromising start, but manages to transport porky to the starting line where the rest of the competition awaits.

the flagger gives the telltale “on your mark, get set, SCRAM!”, which was reused earlier in hugh batman’s bosko the speed king in 1933, albeit with a stuttering dog. no stuttering dog flagger here, but we do have a stuttering pig, does that count? the cars all zip off, a few stragglers speeding by, whooshing along to “shave and a haircut”. the sound effects sound eerily similar to mel blanc’s hoohoo shrieks, so i wouldn’t totally rule that out as a possibility. on a much less lighthearted note, we get a dose of racism as a stereotypical blackface caricature of stepin fetchit (at least in voice) straggles much further behind. “i don't know why everybody's in such a big rush, i’m in no rush.” agggh, product of its time, but c’mon frank, you’re better than that! if anything though, the slightly tilted camera angle makes for an interesting layout, and the shave and a haircut gag was nice.

another parallel to bosko the speed king as we receive a ground shot of the cars barreling towards the camera, swallowing up the viewer. tashlin uses his quick cuts again, perhaps not to the extent of porky in the north woods or later porky’s romance, but they’re certainly quick enough as the cars whirl around the track, skidding on walls and flying around sideways. three celebrities are all packed in one giant car: the cheerio special, toting george arliss, leslie howard (ashley wilkes in gone with the wind), and child actor freddie bartholomew, all from the UK. w.c. fields passes the trio, honking his nose like a horn (daffy would later save everyone the trouble by either biting or squeezing the noses of his victims himself). freddie asks leslie what the time is—4:00. george does a take. “4:00? then it’s time for tea.” with that, all three pull out their teacups from the Great Unknown, taking a sip and staring into the audience, giving a “pip pip, cheerio!” in frightening unison.

big bold letters advertise the CALIBAN, a zoom out revealing the car belonging to john barrymore, who starred in a film adaptation of shakespeare’s the tempest from which the character caliban comes from. “caliban” suddenly speeds away from a shrill woman’s voice calling for his name. we see the perpetrator—a woman with a lasso, calling for caliban, the word ARIEL emblazoned on her own vehicle. barrymore’s “ariel” turns out to be his wife, elaine barrie. in real life, barrymore and barrie (confusing, ain’t it?) would call each other caliban and ariel. strangely sweet!

tashlin plays around with dynamic angles as we view the front of borax karoff’s threatening limo. he pokes his head out of the window, spotting the competition behind him. to further his lead, karoff laughs as he showers tacks on the road behind him (wacky races is taking notes), with the next shot being a lovely view of the racks thrown into the track from the audience’s perspective. charles laughton attempts to remedy the situation by wielding a fishing rod, a magnet tied to the line and thus collecting all the tacks.

karoff’s next line of action is a “torpedo” (which is really just a toy plane), tossing the torpedo at laughton. the torpedo sinks into laughton’s bathtub on wheels, striking the engine and causing the engine to drown in the water. living up to his role as captain, laughton cries “it’s mutiny! that’s what it is, it’s mutiny!” meanwhile, edna may oliver putters along in her jalopy, but her “success”, so to speak, is hindered by each passerby. one car whirls past, stripping her car of its windshield, retractable roof, horn, etcetera. another zooms by, reducing the car to a soapbox, and then another, reducing the car to a mere frame with wheels as oliver ogles at the audience in disbelief, “woo!”ing with each passerby.

it’s no cartoon without a clark gable caricature! gable hitchhikes on the side of the road, but the racers aren’t too willing. he’s spun like a top (tex avery style) as the cars whirl by. once the dust settles, gable has been considerably dug into the dirt, his lone thumb still jerking out of the hole in hopes for a ride.

some wonderfully malleable animation as karoff displays his next trick: squirting glue onto the course. the racers get lodged into the glue and fly up into the air thanks to the resistance, slingshotting back into a cluster in the middle. accompanied by the famous electric guitar zooming twang, of course. the animation reminds me a lot of the rubbery, malleable animation in ub iwerks’ cartoons. the scene where a bee swoops around and stings porky, both beneath a tarp, comes to mind from porky and gabby. speaking of porky, this is still his cartoon. he skids around in the glue, animation smooth as ever, circling around and stretching into the air. the glue strand manages to snap, and he’s propelled into a pile of bricks near a construction site (a sign reading W.P.A. DETOUR PROJECT). the combination of bricks and glue on the wheels makes for army tank wheels on porky’s car.

a lovely sense of urgency and speed as karoff speeds into view, halting in front of the camera and spreading grease on the track next. all of the other competitors zip off of the track like nothing, but thanks to the traction provided by porky’s makeshift army wheels, he’s able to crawl up the hill with ease. as both he and karoff race down the hill, the glue begins to wear on porky’s wheels, and a shower of bricks knock on karoff’s head in succession. there’s a great, quick camera angle as karoff turns the corner on the track, with porky close behind. they weave in and out, porky attempting to pass, but with little luck. the weaving gets faster and faster, carl stalling’s score enhancing the gag as each weave brings forth a higher note in succession. finally, porky outsmarts karoff (which is rare), extending a car horn to the other side and honking. as karoff zips back to where the source of the sound was in hopes of blocking porky, the pig zooms straight past him.

another one of tashlin’s famous “concealed action” scenes as porky and karoff head into a tunnel. there’s the sound of crashing and an explosion. tashlin cleverly extends the surprise just a little longer as an unidentified blur rushes out of the tunnel, presumably porky. however, a look at karoff’s long limo reveals porky in the driver’s seat, with a hunched over karoff crammed into porky’s little car. juxtaposition is comedy’s best friends, and it works!

karoff veers off course in favor of a draw bridge, where he reaches into the control room and pulls the lever. the draw bridge starts its incline, and porky in karoff’s elongated limo flies over the bridge like a ramp. just as karoff’s about to make it across the finish line, porky dives ahead of him in a photo finish, screeching to a half with karoff just a second behind.

if losing wasn’t bad enough, crashing into the rear end of porky‘s new car definitely is. karoff flops to the ground, his car landing next to him. a classic gag that never fails to amuse me as an ambulance screeches up next to karoff, the assistants loading the car into the stretcher leaving karoff by his lonesome, the assistants heading off to tend to the “injured” car. an oldie but goodie.

while the race is clinched, the others still haven’t finished. edna may oliver has completely refurbished her frame car into a sailboat, her dress the makeshift sail as she pumps air via tire pump and funnel into the sail, propelling the car along. a pompous porky awaits his coronation as speed king, when oliver zooms right past. everyone ogles in befuddlement as we iris out on oliver pumping along her makeshift car, the crown placed promptly on top of her butt.

this isn’t my favorite porky cartoon, nor is it my favorite tashlin cartoon, but i certainly think it has its share of good qualities. tashlin uses some beautiful and unconventional camera angles, such as cars zooming at the audience, tacks being thrown FROM the audience’s point of view, and so on. the caricature designs are hilarious—we’ve seen many of these from the coo-coo nut grove, but they still have their charm. a dated cartoon for sure, but as i mentioned in my review of the coo-coo nut grove, looking up who the celebrities are and learning about them is half the fun. with these shorts, at least, you get to learn something new. however, nothing in this cartoon particularly wowed me. not bad, but not as exhilarating as tashlin’s other cartoons. though, for 1937, the wacky races trope would be much fresher and newer than it is now, so as clichéd as it may be, this isn’t necessarily the fault of the cartoon itself, but just how played out the cliché came to be in other cartoons. and plus, the stepin fetchit caricature was... not great. a minor role, but still enough to be considered uncomfortable. i’d recommend this cartoon to check out the caricature drawings in action, but essentially that’s about it. you can go either way with this one.

link!

#lt #porky’s road race #reviews #looney tunes #long post #tashlin #racism m

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madpanda75 · 5 years

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“The Romantics” Part Two

Welcome to Part Two! Big decisions are made and someone *cough* *cough* comes between Rafael and the reader. Hope you guys are in the mood for some angst!

Also here’s a gif of Baby Raúl....just cause ❤️

“Mami, if I smile anymore my face will freeze that way,” Rafael grumbled after the umpteenth photo was taken, trying to blink away the spots he was seeing.

Lucia waved her camera around like a madwoman. “One more pic, Rafi! Por favor! It isn’t everyday your baby becomes a Harvard graduate!”

Rafael gave you an apologetic look, winding his arm around your shoulders as you both posed for another series of photos. Graduation day was chaotic- listening to long droning speeches that were meant to inspire, spending time with family, saying goodbye to friends. It was bittersweet to leave a place you called home for four long years.

While your mom and Lucia were talking, Catalina led you and Rafael away. You had become close with her over the years when you visited Rafael over breaks and weekends away from school. She was like a surrogate grandmother.

“Congratulations. I’m so happy for you both.” She took your hands and joined them. “Even though you both are going down different paths, promise me that you’ll keep in touch. You are so lucky to have each other. It’s rare to find such a kindred spirit in this world. Hold on to that, mis queridos.”

“We promise,” Rafael softly said. You hugged her tightly before she went to join your mom and Lucia, leaving you both alone.

An awkward tension hung in the air. Neither of you knowing exactly what to say to the other person. You took off your cap and tried to fix your hair while Rafael rocked back on his heels, studying his shoes.

“So last night,” you both said simultaneously. He laughed and motioned for you to go first.

“Last night was…” you trailed off, biting your lip.

“Wonderful,” he finished your thought, tucking a loose strand behind your ear. “Have you thought anymore about staying?” You nodded and Rafael felt his pulse quicken.

“I have and I think I’m going to--” You were about to tell Rafael the news when someone interrupted by calling out his name. Turning towards the voice, you saw Rafael’s friends, Alex and Eddie. Alongside them stood a young gorgeous woman.

“Hey! I can’t believe you guys came!” Rafael exclaimed and ran to greet his friends. You had met Alex and Eddie last Christmas during winter break, but you were curious as to who the mysterious girl was. A stab of jealousy twisted like a knife in your heart when you saw her jump into Rafael’s arms.

Eddie caught your gaze and walked over to you. “Hey, Y/N! Congratulations!” He pulled you into a bear hug, lifting you off the ground.

“Thanks, Eddie! It’s good to see you. I can’t believe you guys came.” You liked Eddie. He was sweet and down to Earth, unlike Alex. While Alex was Rafael’s closest childhood friend, there was something about him you didn’t trust. He was fake and selfish.

“We wanted to surprise Rafael.” He set you down on the ground and motioned towards where his friends were.

“So who’s the girl that came with you?” You tried to mask your envy when deep down the green-eyed monster reared its ugly head, unleashing its fury.

“That’s Yelina. When Alex and I told her we were coming to see Rafael, she wanted to tag along with us,” he explained.

So that was Yelina. You had only heard about her once during a drunken Saturday night. Rafael mentioned having a massive crush on her when he was a kid then quickly changed the subject. As you watched the raven-haired beauty whisper something to Rafael making him laugh, you couldn’t help but wonder if there was more between them than just a simple crush.

*****

After a celebratory dinner with your mom, you stopped by one of the local bars to meet up with Rafael and his friends. You walked in and instantly regretted the decision to come, spying Yelina practically sitting in Rafael’s lap.

Narrowing your eyes at the couple, you felt like a fool for even being there. Rafael seemed otherwise occupied, he certainly didn’t need you around. Just as you were about to leave, Alex approached you, blocking the exit.

“Hey gorgeous,” he slurred, winding an arm around your waist. “Where do you think you’re going. Let me buy you a drink.”

“No thanks.” You shrugged him off, glancing back at Rafael, watching as Yelina coaxed him into doing another tequila shot. Your stomach lurched as she seductively placed salt on her neck, pushing his head towards her. He licked it off her skin before downing the shot.

“Damn, looks like Rafael is going to finally get his girl,” Alex said with a smirk.

You whipped your head towards him. “Excuse me.”

Alex arched a brow at you. “You didn’t know about Yelina and Rafael?”

“I...I knew...he had a little crush on her,” you stammered, your face beginning to grow hot.

Alex scoffed, “A little crush? God, he was in love with her for years. Following her around like a lost puppy. But she never gave him the time of day until now.” He leaned towards you, his breath reeked of cheap beer. “So about that drink.”

“Actually I need to go.” You made a beeline to the bathroom, tears blinding your vision. Splashing some water on your face, you stared at yourself in the bathroom mirror. “You’re an idiot,” you harshly whispered to your reflection.

Just then Yelina entered. She stopped in her tracks, huffing out a laugh as she looked you over. You paled in comparison to her. Dressed in a tight electric blue dress, she looked like a model that walked off the runway while you opted for a vintage t-shirt, jeans, and your trusty Doc Martens.

“Y/N, right?” She asked while reapplying her lipstick. You nodded, clenching your fists hard, your nails digging into the meaty part of your palms. It took all your strength not to lash out and give the statuesque woman beside you a black eye. “Funny, Rafael’s never mentioned you before.”

You met her gaze in the mirror, your eyes cold. “What a coincidence, he never really talked about you either.”

“Well there’s history between us. Maybe he didn’t want to make you jealous.” She gave you a tight-lipped smile. “So what’s going on with you guys? Are you two dating?”

Her words stung and the cold mask you wore quickly began to fall. “No we’re just--”

“Friends?” She interjected. “That’s so cute. Well, I better go. Don’t want to keep Rafael waiting.” With a final flip of her hair, Yelina was gone. The smell of her designer perfume hung in the air, stinging your nostrils.You stood there for a moment, glancing at yourself in the mirror one more time before leaving.

Rafael sat at the bar and checked his watch, wondering where you were as he tried to politely push Yelina away. Everytime he heard the door, his head would turn to see if it was you. But he was too late, you were already gone.

*****

“Good Afternoon, Ladies and Gentlemen. We will begin boarding Flight 5293, non-stop to London in just a few short minutes.”

You quietly sat in the terminal, listening to the roaring plane engines out on the tarmac. Your mom walked up and handed you a cup of coffee. She furrowed her eyebrows in concern as she sat next to you. “Sweetheart, are you sure about this?”

You ran your finger along the rim of the cup, struggling to keep from crying. “I’ve never been more sure.”

By the time you made it home from the bar your decision had changed. You were leaving for Cambridge, even going so far as to call your mom and ask if she wanted to fly out to England early. You couldn’t bare to stay in Boston any longer than necessary.

In a way, you were almost grateful for Yelina. If she hadn’t shown up, you may have made a terrible mistake. You were so caught up in your love for Rafael, you forgot about yourself and your dreams. Sure, you and Rafael may have been happy at Harvard. But what about afterwards in the real world? Were you always going to be the third wheel in your relationship? Always wondering if Rafael settled for you?

It was better that you left and forget about what happened between you. At least that’s what your head said, you just wished someone could explain that to your broken heart.

“Attention Ladies and Gentlemen. We are now boarding for Flight 5293. Please have your ticket ready.”

“That’s us,” your mom said when your group was announced. The two of you made your way to the gate when you heard a familiar voice shout your name.

“Y/N!!!” Rafael ran through the terminal, waving his arms to grab your attention. He stopped at your gate, hunched over, grabbing his knees to support himself, completely out of breath.

Your mom motioned for you to go to him. “Rafi, what’re you doing here?” You asked, completely bewildered.

“I stopped by your apartment and saw Becks. She said you were leaving.” After the debacle at the bar, Rafael had tried to call you. He was worried you had seen him with Yelina and gotten the wrong idea. He had his hands full, trying to ward off her advances. By the end of the night, she had gotten so drunk, it took him, Alex, and Eddie to get her back to his place so she could sleep it off. He woke up early to stop by your apartment only to hear from your roommate that you were gone.

“Yeah, I accepted the offer last night. I’m going to Cambridge.”

Rafael felt the air in his lungs leave his body. He couldn’t believe this was happening. “Don’t you have two more weeks?”

“My mom and I are going to do some sightseeing, a little European vacation before I start school. I hear London’s beautiful this time of year.” You shrugged, mustering every ounce of strength you had to mask your pain.

Rafael gently reached for your hand. “But I thought...”

“You thought wrong.” Your response was like ice as you pulled your hand away. “Maybe you should go back and be with Yelina.”

He vehemently shook his head. “We’re just friends.”

Anger flashed before your eyes. “Do you always do body shots off your friends,” you hissed.

“Nothing happened,” he pleaded for you to understand, reaching for your hands again.

You closed your eyes, knowing if you saw the look on Rafael’s face, you would give in and stay. “It doesn’t matter. I made my decision.”

Tears streamed down Rafael’s face. He felt completely helpless. All he could do was cling to you and try not to whisk you away. “I don’t know what to say,” he whispered in a shaky voice.

“Then don’t say anything,” you whispered back, blinking back your own tears. He ran a hand through your hair, gently tugging on one of your curls. His eyes pierced right through you. He tried to memorize the delicate features of your face, the smell of your jasmine shampoo, the way your hands seemed to fit so perfectly into his own, as if they were destined to be clasped together forever.

You began to soften, giving yourself up to the moment. Leaning forward, you brushed your lips up against his, kissing him one final time. He cupped your face, returning the kiss, desperately trying to make you understand how much he loved you in that simple gesture.

“Final boarding for Flight 5293. All remaining passengers must board. We’ll be closing the gate shortly,” the woman announced over the PA system.

All too soon, you pulled away, brushing a tear away from his cheek. “Bye, Rafi. I’ll keep in touch.”You squeezed his hand before entering the jetway to board your plane.

Rafael walked up to the window and watched your plane pull away, placing his hand up to the glass. “Bye, mi amor. I’ll see you again,” he softly said.

You sat and stared out the window, your seat shaking as the plane began its ascent into the sky. “Bye, Rafi. I love you,” you murmured as the town of Boston became smaller and smaller until all you could see were clouds.

@glimmerglittergirl @southern-magnolia @delia26 @sass-and-suspenders @obfuscateyummy @eclecticminded @sweetcannolicarisi @thatesqcrush @katmstanton @amirightcounsellor @beltzboys2015-blog @letty-o @sonnysdoll @lyssa1385 @sweetsummertime99 @burningsorr0ws @gibbs274 @izzythefanfreak @riodallas @babypink224221 @livxrafa @esparza-army @ottosuricato @obsessionprofessional

#rafael barba #rafael barba fic #rafael barba fanfic #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba imagine #barba #barba imagine #barba fic #law and order svu fic #law and order svu imagine #the romantics #baby Rafi #barba x reader

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xgeebabyx · 3 years

Text

Book.

Here is my book. It’s not done. It’s Frerard. I will post updates occasionally. Please give me feedback. I’m trying to get better at writing

MAFIA MAN AND ME (available on Wattpad under the user DoctorDeathDafuc)

I walked into the school, pulling down my skirt, hanging my head down low. I avoided peoples gazes, making my way to the office to get my schedule. I signed in, waving meekly at the secretary who was looking at me with a mixture of confusion and disgust washed across her face. I solemnly marched to my locker, getting quite a few odd looks from my peers.

I marched into my classroom, walking to the back and ignoring the curious peering gazes that leered at me and my skirt. I sat down at a desk far from everyone else’s and pulled out my book, opening to the page on the board. I stared up at the board and waited for class to begin. The teacher started calling roll and when he called out, “Gerard Way?” I panicked and meekly raised my hand. The teacher wrote it down and continued, but everyone’s eyes were on me. I stared ahead and listened intently when the teacher began droning on about poly whatevers.

As soon as class ended I was out of my seat, rushing to my locker, spending as little time in the hallways as possible, knowing it was dangerous for me to be out here alone, seeing as I was a boy in a skirt. Clearly I wasn't fast enough because soon enough Bert McCracken, aka my worst nightmare, turned up right in front of me. “Hey faggot, miss me?” I meekly shook my head, before feeling the impact and pain of a fist on my cheekbone, making me cry out weakly and fall to the floor. I stayed down, knowing it was useless to fight back. I willed away the ears, swallowing thickly. I stared at the floor and didn't make a sound as I was pummeled by these monsters. The bell rang, and they all ran off. I stood up, brushing off my skirt, smoothing down my hair, and straightening my sweater before heading off to science.

~le time skip to end of day~

I walked home, my head cloudy and full. My book bag was making unbearable pain on my shoulder, dragging me down so I was leaning uncomfortably to the left. I saw Bert and his cronies sitting on a bench on the opposite side of the street and started walking faster, desperate to reach my apartment building. I heard yelling behind me so I started to run.

I reached my apartment, slamming the door shut. I leaned my head against it, panting uncontrollably, close to tears. I pressed the palm of my hands to my eyes, willing away the droplets. I inhaled before taking away my palms, sure the tears wouldn't fall. I leaned down and took off my boots, sliding around my floors in my pink bunny thigh highs. I reached my kitchen and walked in, brewing a pot of coffee before sliding over to my couch, clearing pencils, pens and half finished drawing and writing off of it before plopping down with a satisfying thump. I grabbed a clear page and a pen, letting my eyes roll back into my head, feeling my hand moving across the page, forming shapes I couldn't name and a feeling better than the best orgasm.

I heard the beeping of the coffee pot and slowly rolled my eyes back the correct direction, blinking a few times to adjust to the dim lighting of my shoddy apartment. I stood up, placing down my drawing and dragging my ass over to the kitchen counters. I grabbed a mug that didn't look too used, and poured the coffee. I dumped an alarming amount of sugar and creamer in before heading back to the couch and finally looking at the art I had created. It appeared to be a… skull with the word “Watch Out.” on it. There was a snake swirling out of its mouth holding a rose between its teeth. I sighed, before grabbing my paints and oil pastels and getting to work putting it on a canvas. I could get a solid $100 for this and on top of all my other art I had made this month, it would stack up to be a little over the rent payment, meaning I would have enough to buy new supplies.

~le next day~

I walked to Lemon and Sugar, my local cafe. When I got there I waved to my friend Lindsey behind the counter before walking to my favorite corner of the room and sitting down, pulling a sketchbook and a pen out of my bag and putting on sunglasses before rolling back my eyes and drawing. I had made a habit of the sunglasses when an old lady saw me and nearly had a heart attack before hitting me with a bible. Lindsey of course was no help throughout that traumatic encounter because A)she was stuck behind the cafes counter, and B) she was laughing too hard to move properly, much less talk.

My hand was still moving by the time Lindsey got off work and she decided not to disturb me, instead choosing to sit across from me and watch me work. It was hours before I finally took off the sunglasses and rolled my eyes back into place, catching the fake disgusted look Lindsey was giving me. “I do not see how the hell you can draw with your eyes on the opposite side of your fucking head.” I giggled, folding up my sunglasses and storing them securely in their case before dropping them back into my bag.

“It helps me think of Lindz, it may be a little strange, but it's fun.” with that, the conversation was over. I looked down at my drawing, seeing a beautiful tree with thousands of faces instead of leaves. I smiled, proud of my art. I glanced around, noticing the shop was mostly empty apart from me, lindsey, the cashier/ barista, and a heavily tattooed man in a suit who just so happened to be staring at me. I blushed and looked at the table, before glancing back at Lindsey, who had her eyes fixed on her girlfriend Jamia behind the counter. I smiled and nudged her.

“Hey lover girl, do you think you could get me a coffee? It would give you a chance to flirt with Mimi.” she glowered at me, but got up anyways, walking over to the counter, fixing her face into a pleasant smile. I smiled at the table, glad for my friend and her success for not being single like me. I heard some footsteps before the bench across from me sighed and I looked up, ready to tease Lindsey, but the words got caught in my throat when the tattooed man was smiling pleasantly at me.

“Hello cutie, I’m Frank, what's your name?” I hesitated, before reaching across the table to shake his hand. “I- I’m Gerard.” I squeaked out. He took my hand and shook it, before placing a gentle kiss on my hand. I blushed profusely, nibbling on my bottom lip. He smiled a genuine smile that reached his eyes. “I came over here to ask if i could have your number? I wanna take you out sometime.” he asked, his voice washing over me gently, giving me a strong pull behind my sternum and butterflies in my stomach. I mentally squealed, while on the outside I was calmly nodding. His smile got even wider and he pulled out a little business card and passed it to me. He pointed to his number, and I typed it into my phone, sending him a quick message and setting his contact name as “Frank from the coffee shop” He responded quickly and I smiled.

He stood up and waved, before walking out of the store. I glanced over to the counter where Lindsey and Jamia were watching me like proud parents. Once they knew I was looking, Lindsey wiped her dry eyes while Jamia started clapping like a maniac. I let out a burst of laughter, before standing up and curtseying. I smoothed out my skirt and marched over to the couple. “Linds, you promised a coffee. Where is it my sandwich maker?” she raised her eyebrow at me and I smirked. She slid a coffee across the counter and I sipped it, not losing eye contact.

“No thank you Gerard? Wow, I should've kept the coffee to myself.” Lindsey muttered as I continued to obnoxiously slurp down my drink. I winked at her and walked back to my seat, packing up my art and pens before waiting for Lindsay by the door.

That night I had a lot to think through as I messaged back and forth with Frank, setting up a date next Saturday at 8 for dinner and a movie. I smiled, thinking about the sweet man from earlier. Now I just had to wait.

~le time skip to school on the friday before the date~

I walked down the halls, ignoring the calls of faggot screamed at me. I got shoved against the lockers, the force causing my skirt to fly up revealing my lace panties. I fixed my skirt before continuing to walk, my thigh high boots clacking against the linoleum tiles. I reached my locker and pulled out my history text books before stuffing them into my leather messenger bag and strutting calmly down the halls to my next class.

I walked in and sat at the back, staring at the board. I saw the teacher eyeing my legs and I subtly flipped him off under the table. I knew he saw it the minute his eyes widened and he stared at my face. I raised an eyebrow and pursed my lips. He flinched away from my burning gaze before beginning his lesson. I zoned out until I heard the bell. “Gerard, please stay back for a second, I need to speak to you.” I rolled my eyes but stayed back, walking up to my teachers desk.

“Yes? What is so important?” I questioned him. He cleared his throat. “You’re 18 now, that means you’re a legal adult like me, you’re single. Me and my wife are getting divorced, we could maybe try to work something out between us.” he inched his hand up my thigh. I scoffed and moved his hand off my thigh.

“That's illegal and gross, I'm not a fucktoy and I know your wife isn't going anywhere anytime soon. Fuck off cause im not interested, and if you dont leave me alone, i will report this behavior to the principal and the police, now im going to leave and you’re going to let me.”with that, i picked up my bag and marched out of the room. I snarled at anyone who even looked at me.

When Bert showed up at my locker wearing his signature smirk, I opened my locker, slamming it into his face and hearing it satisfyingly bang against him. He let out a yelp and opened his mouth to yell at me. I turned to face him, “Listen, I’m not in the mood for your hopeless flirting and cry for attention, so fuck off. Mr. Woods just sexually assaulted me and now I have to report him to the authorities. Leave me alone and return to your usual pattern monday, cause then they’ll leave bruises to last all week. Now goodbye hun, have a good weekend.” and having said that, i marched out the front doors of the school with my head held high.

~le time skip to saturday~

I flopped on my bed, checking the time before launching myself back up. I waltzed over to my closet and pulled out dress after dress, laying them out on my bed. I ran my hands over all of them, before picking up two and putting them back. The three still on my bed were all beautiful, but I had to be practical. I eventually chose a pretty pastel pink dress with a black leather belt and little white pumps. I wandered out of my bedroom and into the bathroom, stepping into the shower and turning it on hot. I sat there for a minute before I slowly began shaving my legs.

I got out and wrapped a towel around myself, my feet slapping against the flooring of the hallway. I pulled on my dress, smoothing out the wrinkles before putting on a pair of matching pink panties, pulling the fishnets up over my plus sized thighs. I hum along to a song in my head, jumping around trying to put on my shoes. I finally shoved my feet into the delicate heels from hell and sat at my vanity, deciding on a little bit of lip gloss and eyeliner, before grabbing my purse and checking the time. 7:58pm… shit, I rush down the apartment building stairs just as the clock strikes 8:00. I stand out on the sidewalk as an expensive looking black car rolls up and the window slowly rolls down. Inside it is Frank and I giggle, walking over and opening the car door.

“Hey Frankie.” I say, grinning. He looks over at me, “Hey baby.” I blush, my face turning as red as a tomato. He chuckles, reaching over and putting his hand on my knee before driving off.

We arrive at the restaurant and the first thing I notice is how expensive it looks. I whimper, looking at frank, confused as to how we’re going to afford eating here. He notices my look of distress and grabs my hand, gently leading me inside. “Don’t worry hun, i can pay for this, you sit there and look pretty and don't look at the prices.” he whispered into my ear. I whimpered again before nodding. I followed after him to our table, seeing the admiring glances thrown at my date. I furrowed my eyebrows, confused as to why they’re looking at him like he’s their idol or worst fear, the looks are very similar. He’s just frankie, my date, and the sweetest man ever.

We sat down and he reached across the table for my hand, kissing it and holding it, not noticing the stars we were getting. “Ok so, what do you do for a living? What are your passions? What are your fears? What are your hobbies?” he rapidly fired at me, and I chuckled.

“Slow down cowboy. I’m an artist, I’m passionate about art, music and coffee, I'm afraid of needles, and my hobbies are art and music. Now what about you? I might ask the same.” I chucked the information at him, finishing off with a light laugh.

“Alright, I run a few businesses-” He started.

I pouted at him, “Be specific please, I wanna know if i'm dealing with a drug dealer or a human.”

“I run a few restaurants, clubs, bars, major companies, I'm passionate about getting to know you and hopefully getting you to like me, I'm afraid of losing people like you, and my hobbies are music and hopefully getting you to fall for me.” he said, never breaking eye contact with me. I smiled at the table, blushing madly. He chuckled at my antics and I kicked him under the table.

“Stop laughing.” I whined, pouting at him. He was still smiling at me and I couldn't help but giggle. “You’re a strange one Frank. You’re the only one who’s stuck around.” he smiles at me and kisses the back of my hand.

“Maybe it's because I like you more than I should and we barely even know each other. You, my dear, are special and I want to cherish you.” he shot back at me. I blushed harder and kept my gaze on the table, not being able to wipe the smile off my face. My face was actually starting to hurt from smiling so much. I glanced around the restaurant, catching a few people blatantly staring at us and my smile dropped as I furrowed my eyebrows.

“Why are they staring at us frankie? Did we do something wrong?” I questioned, whimpering. He looked around as if only now noticing the staring people. “Are they making you uncomfortable angelo? I can make them go away and stop staring.” I whipped my head around to face him, my black hair flying around.

“What does that mean frankie? Are you dangerous? Should I be afraid? You don't seem scary, you seem sweet. You shouldn’t hurt others, it's not nice.'' I rambled as he shot death glares towards the other occupants of the restaurant. I glanced around again noticing two very buff tattooed men sitting close to us who appeared to be waiting for some kind of signal from frank. I caught their eye and they glared at me, and I quickly turned away. “Frank, I don't get it, are you like a gang leader or something? Fucking what? You're scaring me.”

He turned back to me, eyes immediately softening. “Im sorry baby, let's get out of here.” with that, he stood up, reaching for my hand and pulling me to my feet. As we walked past the scary men, Frank nodded at them and they stood up, following us out. I grabbed Franks arm and stayed close, keeping one eye on the men behind us. He patted my hand and kissed my forehead. “Nothing to fear baby boy, they’re here to keep us safe. I’m a very important person and you’re important to me so you’re more important.” he reassured me. I furrowed my eyebrows trying to figure out what the hell that means and when Frank had become the mad hatter with his riddles.

I didn't let up my grip on his arm, instead only holding on tighter. I looked up at him and smiled as he met my gaze. I giggled as we reached his car and he opened my door with an exaggerated flourish. I got in and thanked him. He got in the driver's seat and we flew off down the road, a black van containing the men trailing behind us. Frank's hand found its way onto my thigh and stayed there.

We arrived at the theatre and we chose to see the movie Child's Play. I gripped his hand tightly as we stood in line to get snacks. I was blushing madly because Frank wouldn't stop whispering in my ear about everything and anything going on. I pulled out my wallet to pay, but he pointed to a person and while I was turned away he paid. I turned my attention back to the transaction, seeing Frank paying and I gasped, upset. “I wanted to pay frank. Why would you do that?” I pouted at him and he looked a little shocked at my reaction.

“Sugar, I have money, i wanna spoil you! Is that a crime now?” he said, clearly unnerved by the fact i didnt know that i wasn't allowed to pay. I furrowed my brows. “This is a date and the man has to pay, so why did you try frankie? We all know I have the balls in the relationship.” I giggled as we walked to our seats. I twirled my skirt, listening to my heels clip against the floor. We sat down and the movie began.

Halfway through the film I felt myself being moved ever so slowly into Frank's lap and I giggled quietly, getting up and sitting down on his lap. He sighed contentedly and I curled up to his chest, trying to fight off the sleep that wanted to take over. I eventually gave up and curled up into a tiny ball, pressed against Frank comfortably, letting my eyes shut.

I awoke to Frank lightly shaking me while chuckling. I looked around and blinked the sleep out of my eyes. “Wha-” I yawned, rubbing my eye with my fist. I took in my surroundings, we were driving around in the higher-class suburbs. clearly frank had not wanted to wake me up, so he must’ve carried me, or had me carried out. He looked tired, and I checked the clock. 2:00am I sat up quickly, but got a headrush and rubbed my head. “Shit i'm sorry frankie, i didn't mean to keep you out this late, you’re probably tired.”

“Shh baby, that's not why i woke you up. I wanted to ask if you were ok with sleeping at mine tonight, your house is all the way across town and I really don't feel like driving all the way back. If you want though, I can. Your wish is my command my sweet little baby.” he whispered, and I found myself nodding and falling back asleep to the sound of gentle laughter.

~.~.~.~

I awoke to silk sheets that weren't mine and a warm body that definitely was not my heating pad. I sat up and looked at the body next to me, the memories coming back. “Frank, goodmorning baby.” he groaned and rolled over, covering his head with a pillow. I giggled, getting up and pulling his shirt over my head, before walking to the door. I opened it and was met with a security guard. I poked his shoulder and he looked at me, his eyes meeting mine, dangerously eyeing me to see if I posed a threat. I smiled, and he seemed to relax a little.

“Excuse me Mister, where's the bathroom?” my half asleep mind not processing the fact that there was a security guard outside of frank’s door. He pointed and I skipped off in the direction he had pointed. I marveled at the beautiful copies of famous paintings on the walls. There was a suspiciously good replica of the mona lisa and starry night hanging on either side of the bathroom door.

I walked in, ignoring the large bathtub and the ten person shower, heading straight to the throne like a toilet. I did my business and then walked over to the large marble basin sink, washing my hands before drying them and walking back to the room where Frank is. I sat on the edge of the bed, pulling on my clothes that I had come in before turning my attention back to the still asleep frank. “Frank, baby, you gotta wake up. I need to get home, i promised lindsey i would tell her about you and our date. She's gonna think you’re some murderer if i dont get home soon. Who knows, she might send a police officer over.”

That got his attention because soon he sat up, getting dressed in whatever was on top of the clothes pile. “Thanks for waking me up with sugar, I have work to do. I’ll have Francesco drive you home, I'm sorry I couldn't do it myself but ya know… “ he trailed off and i nodded. We walked out of the room and he motioned for a reedy boy over. “Can you please drive my baby here home? Also, once you get back, meet me in my office, we have a few security details to discuss. Actually text me when you drop him off, kapish?” With that he kissed me gently on the forehead before walking in the direction of what I assumed was his office.

I turned and smiled at the thin boy. “Hi I’m Gerard, you must be Francesco. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” I stuck out my hand to shake with a bright smile. He took it and nodded, before gesturing to the front doors. We walked out and got into the sleek black car, almost the same as I had arrived in but the seats were black instead of brown. I turned on the radio and bopped along to the Green Day song that was on. Today has been interesting.

I arrived at my apartment building and got out, waving at Francesco before waltzing into the dingy complex. I ran up the single flight of stairs and into my tiny apartment. Everything felt so small after being in Frank's house, with his beautiful art and ridiculously high ceilings. I sat down on my couch and called Lindsey. “Hello? Gerard? Whats up dude?” I sighed and she must’ve seen my heart eyes because she laughed, “Frank got you hooked that bad? Damn dude, that beat Jamia’s record for making me fall in love in 3 days. She’s gonna be pissed.” I giggled and sighed again.

“Oh lindz, he's perfect, I think this is what love feels like. Oh god I can imagine us married with kids living in that big ol’ mansion of his and growing old together.” I sighed again. She furrowed her eyebrows.

“Big mansion? Italian? What’s his last name Gee?” she questioned me.

“Iero. Isn’t that beautiful?” I said dreamily, lost in a world of life with frank.

“Iero? Gee do you know…” she left her sentence unfinished and I ignored her. I flopped across the couch, setting the phone down on the table. I stared at my water stained ceiling before picking up a pad of paper, forgetting Lindsey on the phone. I drew Frank’s face again and again, all of his arm tattoos and him with butterflies, roses, down on one knee, in a suit. However I could imagine, I drew. My phone was beeping but I didn't hear it over my thoughts.

~le time skip to school~

I walked up to the school, about to enter before two very buff men stepped in front of me. I recognised them as the men who followed me and Frank on our date and I got confused. “Hello sirs, why are you here? Did I do something? Does Frankie want to see me? He could’ve just texted you know.” the men exchanged looks, before turning back to me. I glanced around, noticing quite a few people staring. One of the men put a hand up to his ear, whispering something I couldn't hear.

The other man grumbled to me, “Frank sent us to make sure you are secure at all times. We’re going to be following you throughout your day. We will not disturb you or interact with others unless they appear to be a threat to your safety. Did he not tell you any of this?” I shook my head, my mouth twisting to the side.

“Ok, well now that we’ve talked about that, shall we head inside gentlemen?” I asked cheerily, already starting my march into the school doors. My skirt swished and I heard the men behind me growl. I giggled softly, walking to my locker, swinging it open. I noticed people making a wide circle around me, and laughed when I saw the guards making menacing faces at anyone who came within 6 feet of me. I shut my locker and marched off, the guards following me like lost puppies. I entered my class and they followed, taking up position in the corner closest to me.

Bert walked in and saw me, not having seen the security guards following me down the hall. He walked over and sat on my desk, smiling sickeningly sweetly at me. “Meet me on the football field during lunch, bring some advil.” he winked at me and walked off to join Justin Beiber and Selena Gomez, his cronies. I glanced back at my guards and they were watching Bert closely, and I could tell they already hated his guts.

The teacher walked in and noticed the men right away, confused. “Excuse me sirs, this is not for the public, if i may ask, why are you here?” the guards smirked, holding up a badge i didn't know they had.

“Frank Iero sent us to protect Gerard Way from any harm,” I shrunk in on myself as they continued to speak, “I quote him on this: protect my baby boy from any harm that may come to him, if anyone questions you, give them hell.” I shrunk down into my seat, the usage of baby boy making everyone stare at me with curiosity and new interest.

The teacher stood there, flabbergasted, “Oh well, if Mr. Iero sent you… then I suppose you can stay, Gerard, stick near those men please.” I smirked at the clearly weirded out teacher. I must say this whole situation is pretty odd.

~le time skip to lunch~

I walked out onto the football field, the guards following behind me, cracking their knuckles menacingly. I giggled as we walked, seeing as I had made them both flower crowns during my free period. I walked over to Bert and smiled warmly at him. He looked nervous and I got confused for a second before remembering the men who were following me. “Don’t worry about them, they’re Frank’s friend and Frank is nice so obviously they’re nice.” I pointed to one of them. “This one is Peiro and this one,” I pointed to the other man who was smiling at my antics, “this one is Cristofano, they’re super chill and I like them a lot.” Cristofano waved at them, trying his best to look friendly.

I tittered at him before meeting Bert’s gaze. “Now, what is it you wanted to meet out here in the middle of a football field with Advil for? You’re cutting into my flower crown making time and I promised Frank I would make him one.” I turned back to Cristofano, grinning childishly. “Don’t you agree he would look adorable in a flower crown? Oh maybe we could have a picnic and you and Peiro should come because I think that Peiro likes you,” Peiro shifted, clearly embarrassed as Christofano gave him a slight smile, “and I know you like him back, and you two would be so cute together and oh my I completely forgot about Bert.” I gasped, having forgotten about the greasy old bully. I turned around, seeing a look of pure wonder and confusion on his face as he watched our exchange. “Oh Bert I’m sorry but I have to cut this meeting short because I have flower crowns to make. I would like to do this again sometime soon, it was very enjoyable. Ta-Ta now darling.” I wiggled my fingers in his direction before turning around and grabbing Christafano’s hand and dragging him off to the patch under the bleachers where the flowers grow.

~le time skip to after le disaster called school~

I walked home with Christafano’s hand clasped tightly in one of my hands, and Peiro’s hand in the other. I dragged them to my apartment as they tried dragging me into the car so they could drive me home claiming it was safer that way. I of course won the argument and that’s how we ended up here, Me dragging two fully grown men in suits and bullet proof vests wearing flower crowns down the street to a dingy apartment. If anyone saw, they might think it was a stripper show gone wrong. I giggled at that thought as we drew closer to our destination.

We walked up the stairs and I unlocked my door before marching inside. Peiro took up the post outside my door as Christafano followed me in, laughing like an idiot. “Sorry for the mess Christo, I did not know that I would be having such esteemed guests like Frank’s guards.” I cleared off the couch, putting all my notebooks onto an overflowing shelf that was far too full to hold more art books. Christafano watched in amusement as I tried to shove all of my art pads onto the shelf, eventually settling for setting them in a pile on the floor.

I walked back over to the couch and flopped down, groaning.

Christafano laughed, his chest rumbling as he watched. “Frank asked me to bring you to his home at 3:00 so we have about 15 minutes for you to mope about or get dressed. Now hurry up please, if you're late he’s gonna be mad.'' I whined as I stood up and moped to my room, grabbing a black skirt and a pink sweater before getting dressed, grabbing a notebook and pen, and walking out to Christafano, twirling about. He clapped before gesturing to the door. I walked out and stood next to Peiro, laughing at his expression. “Christafano is going to get the car from the parking lot where you left it and then we are going to drive you to Frank’s where you will stay the night as per his orders.” Peiro emotionlessly stated.

I made a noncommittal noise and banged my head against his forearm repeatedly. It only took 15 minutes for Christafano to get back and in that time I had gotten Peiro to give me a piggyback ride all around the apartment complex.

~.~.~.~

We arrived at Frank’s house and my door was opened by a nameless man who seemed kind enough. I hurried up the front steps and through the large doors that were opened by more nameless men, all avoiding my gaze and all with a secretive smile on their faces. I looked around the entry hall while taking off my shoes. “Frank?!” I called to the seemingly empty house. “You there Frank?'' I heard the pitter patter of what sounded like thousands of tiny paws skittering towards me and I looked down, seeing an army of tiny dogs hurtling at me, followed by a laughing Frank. I gasped and sat on the floor, letting the dogs crawl over my lap.

I laughed as a little black rat looking dog licked my face and sat directly on my balls, making me double over in pain. “Fuuuuck dude why?'' I groaned, gently lifting the dog out of my lap. Frank laughed and I flipped him off, still clutching my crotch. I hissed as I stood up and took away my hands, the pain receding. As soon as the pain was gone I reached out and backhanded Frank in the balls, laughing when his face scrunched up and he fell to his knees. “That's what you get for laughing at me biotch.” he flipped me off and i giggled

“Sorry baby, it's just called revenge, get used to it.” I winked at him. He straightened suddenly and picked me up, tossing me over his shoulder, spanking me before running off down the hall. I screamed and started laughing as he ran through the many corridors. We arrived at a sliding glass door that he pulled open, leading to a pool. I shrieked, still giggling like a maniac. “Put me down! Put me down! Don’t you dare do what i think you’re about to do.” He laughed, the sound echoing off the tiled walls, blue light from the pool reflecting off onto the walls in swirling patterns.

“It's called revenge baby, get used to it.” I gasped before he threw me into the pool. I hit the surface and stayed under for about a minute before swimming to the surface and gasping for air. I laughed and splashed him with water.

“C'mon baby, c'mon! The water is simply divine.” I choked out around my laughter, swimming to the shallow end. He grinned at me before peeling off his shirt. He pulled off his socks and his pants quickly followed before jumping in, creating large ripples. I smiled before tugging my skirt and boots off, my sweater following.

He swam over to me and pulled me into his embrace, and I smiled against his chest, enjoying the warmth radiating off of him. I rested my chin against his pecs looking up at his perfect jawline, tracing it with my fingertip, smiling softly as he held me tighter to his chest. He looked down at me and I blushed, burying my face into his neck, he chuckled and I felt the vibrations run through me. I tucked myself closer to him, nuzzling his neck as the water swayed us around.

I looked up again and met his gaze, watching his eyes swoop over my upper half, from my dripping wet hair, pausing on my lips before traveling down to my collar bones. They traveled back up to my lips, holding me captivated as I gently pushed myself closer to him, leaning in slowly. He leaned in closer and I felt his breath fan over my lips gently, the hot breath making my face heat up in unimaginable ways. I moved one of my hands up to the side of his face, pulling him in. Our lips touched and fireworks went off in my stomach, I held him against my lips as we stood there, tentatively kissing each other in the dark blue lights, swaying with our hair dripping wet.

We clamored out of the pool, wet feet slapping against the tile floors as we pulled on our soaking wet clothes, puddles forming at our feet. I smiled softly as Frank put his arm around me, guiding me up the stairs to his room. I sat on the floor, avoiding the carpeting and sheets that cost more than all my belongings combined. The only thing I could think about while staring at the bed is sharing it with Frank, cuddling on it, sleeping on it, even doing a few x rated things.

I smiled at the thoughts of cuddling and willed away the nasty thoughts that invaded my head.

He turned back to me, walking out of his closet before passing me a hoodie that was 5 times too big and a pair of boxers. I smiled and turned him around before pulling off my soggy skirt and sweater and my underwear, (I feel uncomfortable writing panties) I glanced at Frank’s shirtless back, admiring the art splayed across his shoulder blades down his spine to the waistline that I wasn’t going to look below just yet. I blushed and looked away, the temptation to let my eyes wander far too strong. I tapped Frank on the shoulder when he was done dressing and made grabby hands. He chuckled and picked me up, holding me as one might hold a koala. I borrowed my face into his neck, breath rebounding into my nose, making my nose scrunch in disgust.

“Hey baby, are you hungry?” Frank asks, gently bouncing me. I shook my head, closing my eyes. “Cwuddles.” I pouted, pressing my face further into his neck. He chuckled at my antics and walked over to the bed, still bouncing me gently. We sat on the bed and he tucked me into his chest, humming softly. I felt my eyes growing heavy as sleep soon consumed me.

~.~.~.~

I awoke to the feeling of Frank gently shaking me, whispering in my ear for me to get up. I groggily opened my eyes and rubbed them with the back of my hand, upset I had been awakened. I pouted up at him, and his eyes visibly softened, already melting and I haven't even said anything. I felt myself being lifted up and out of bed. Frank walked to the door and gently walked down the stairs, careful not to drop me as we walked into a dining room the size of my apartment. He sat down with me on his lap, bouncing his knee as I played with his fingers.

I whined when he took away his hand to eat and grabbed his fingers, splaying them across my hand. He continued eating and bouncing me on his lap, grunting when I pulled his fingers too hard. I stuck my fist in my mouth as I continued to wave his hand about, so focused I didn't notice Frank’s eyes on me or his hushed muttering with a man in a suit or him signing papers. The bouncing never wavered as I played. I got bored a little over an hour later and turned my attention to Frank’s face and more importantly the food left on his plate. I took my hand out of my mouth and grabbed a potato, stuffing it in my mouth as fast as I could.

I stuffed my face with the leftover potatoes and the piece of bread that was suspiciously buttered as if waiting for me to eat it. I looked at the green beans and pouted, pushing away the plate. I turned to Frank, who was still bouncing his leg. I smiled at him with food all over my face and he laughed softly, wiping my face with a napkin. I buried my face into his neck and felt myself getting drowsy again. I tugged on his shirt before balling the material up in my fist and falling asleep in his still bouncing lap.

~.~.~.~

I awoke in a dark room, wooden bars surrounding the mattress I was sleeping on. I realized I had slipped into little space, and started to panic. I called for frank and heard soft footsteps approaching the door. The door opened, washing the room in light. I rubbed my eyes as I adjusted to the light, slowly recognizing the figure in the doorway. I smiled at him, desperately trying to get out of the crib. He chuckled. “Feeling big Gee? I need you to be big now baby boy.” I groaned and nodded, not feeling like talking. He lowered the crib wall and I jumped out, stretching.

My stomach rumbled and he laughed, taking my hand and leading me into the kitchen. He grabbed some cheese and water, passing them to me, before leading me into a small living room with a tv. I smiled as I looked at him, before the date on the tv home screen caught my eye. I started to panic. I had missed one whole day of school. Shit shit shit shit im so gonna get suspended or detention. I'm most definitely getting in trouble. He must’ve seen my worry because he glanced at the T.V.

He looked back at me, clearly confused. “School.” I whispered and he almost laughed.

“Sugar you don’t need to worry, I own the school, it’s ok.” he reassured me. He pulled me into his lap, running his fingers through my hair, making me mewl. I snuggled closer to his chest, whimpering when he stopped petting me. He put his hand back and I sighed, grabbing a blanket. I threw it over the both of us and turned on the tv, choosing to watch the critically acclaimed Godfather, much to Frank's amusement.

~time skip~

I arrived at school, smoothing out my skirt as I walked through the doors, closely followed by Christafano and Peiro. Bert called to me but I ignored him, as Peiro had instructed for me to do. I pranced over to my locker and grabbed my pink pencil case and sketchbook, ignoring the textbooks, as Frank had told me to do. I turned to Christafano and smiled, making him grin right back at me. I walked into class a little early, as to get my regular spot, but it appeared it was already taken by Bert and his friends. I pouted, but turned away and went to get a different seat, but Peiro growled and grabbed my hand, marching over to Bert. “Excuse me, I do believe that’s Gerard’s seat. Now move, Frank has given me permission to kick your ass after that last stunt you pulled.” Bert paled, and stood up, faster than I had ever seen him move. Peiro snapped his fingers and Christafano pulled out the chair, shoving Justin and Selena away from the table. I gasped at the violence but was still grateful for someone standing up for me. I sat down in my seat and Christafano pushed me in. I giggled, and patted the seats on either side of me for the both of them to sit. Christafano sat and I leaned on his shoulder, putting my sketchbook on the desk and flipping to a new page, sending a reassuring glance at Christofano before rolling back my eyes, feeling him shift in worry next to me. I put my pencil down on the page and felt my hand start to move, humming quietly and filling my head with thoughts of flowers and skulls and vampires and bunnies. An hour later, the bell rang and I rolled my eyes back to the proper direction. I glanced down at my picture, a bunny skull with flowers growing out of it. I found it odd there were no vampires, but it is what it is. I sighed, standing up, walking out of the classroom. I ignored the sound of the guards rushing to catch up behind me. I walked out to the football field where the flowers grow under the bleachers. A tiny object caught my eye, and I stared at it, trying to make my brain register the item. It was a bunny skull with flowers growing out of it, just like the one I had drawn. I brushed it off as a simple coincidence, sure this was just something I had missed the other day.

~.~.~.~

I walked into Frank’s house, sneaking around, searching for him. I walked into his bedroom, his shirt off. I was about to walk up and pounce on him, before I noticed a tattoo of his, it was a skull with the word “Watch Out.” on it. There was a snake swirling out of its mouth holding a rose between its teeth. It looked almost exactly like something I had drawn and I got confused, before brushing it off and tapping him lightly on the shoulder. He turned sharply, reaching for the waistline of his pants before he registered it was me and smiled, letting out a sigh of relief. I still must’ve looked confused and he furrowed his eyebrows right back at me. “What is it principessa? Is something wrong?” I opened my mouth to comment on his tattoo but I soon shut it, thinking that maybe I should keep this dilemma private. I shook my head, before walking into his arms and clinging onto him.

He chuckled and hugged me gently back, rubbing reassuring circles on my back. I brushed aside all my negative thoughts. Surely this man could never do anything bad, he’s so sweet to me. He takes care of people.

I stared at the floor, shuffling my feet. I felt uncomfortable in the giant kitchen, watching Frank make dinner, his top off for a reason I did not know. He bounced around, metaphorically of course, Frank is too civil to bounce about in the kitchen. I was not, but we don’t talk about that. I tugged on the sleeve of the hoodie Frankie had given me, blushing when he glanced over his shoulder at me. He must've seen the redness of my face, because he burst into that beautiful smile that I could stare at all day. I rubbed my eye with my fist, trying to stay awake for as long as possible.

~.~.~.~

We were eating late, much later than I was used to. His face softened at the simple action and walked over to pick me up, putting me on his hip. I smiled at him and kissed his nose, watching him start to blush. I put my head on his shoulder, my butt resting comfortably on his hip bone that he had managed to jut out in a way that appeared so sassy it almost outsassed me. ALMOST. I wrapped my legs around his middle, rubbing my face into his neck, trying to get him to consume me with his flesh.

He went back to stirring whatever was in the pot on the stove rubbing my lower back with his thumb and holding me up with his arm. I was slowly falling asleep to the sound of his humming and his near constant rocking as he waited for dinner to finish cooking.

“Wake up baby boy, dinner’s ready.” I grumbled and buried myself further into Frank. He gently pried me off of him, setting me in a chair. I whined and didn't untangle my legs from around his waist, instead clamoring back up onto his back, refusing to let go. “Baby you have to let go, please baby, be a good boy.” I shrieked and kicked as he tried to set me down again, accidentally kicking him in his prince parts. He groaned, clutching at his big boy area, crumpling beneath me. I jumped off his back and ran as fast as I could. I heard heavy footsteps behind me, catching up. I made a hard left down a random hallway, hearing the footsteps slowly multiplying behind me. I shrieked and took another hard turn up some steps and down a dark hall that smelled like it hadn't been used in years. It smelled like blood and death and I slowed, no longer hearing the footsteps behind me. I watched my footing, careful not to step in the dark puddles of metallic smelling liquid with my baby blue socks. I squealed when I heard a squeak under my foot, and I glanced up seeing a man staring right back at me.

I screamed at the top of my lungs. Bert. It was Bert. Bert was here, in Frank’s house. Tied up by a chain to a wall in what appears to be a cell. I was panicking, wondering what the hell was going on. He stared into my eyes and slowly blinked, and that was when I moved. I turned and ran back down the dark hall that smelled of blood, through the corridors, and back to the kitchen where a few guards and Frank were gathered. Frank noticed me staring, glancing down and seeing the blood on my socks. “Merda.” he turned to his guards “Perché hai lasciato che accadesse? Idioti, avete rovinato tutto!” he screamed at them in rapid fire Italian. He turned to me, plastering an obviously fake smile on his face.

“Principessa, you look like you’ve seen a ghost, what's wrong.” I stared in disbelief. How could he not know Bert was in a strange cell in an under used corridor in his house only a floor above us. “B- Bert is in your house- Frankie he was tied to a wall and I wanna believe you don't know about this but honestly I'm not sure if you're the man I thought you were.” something in his eyes broke, and he looked almost pitiful, like a kicked puppy.

He dismissed his guards with a flick of the wrist. He tried to approach me but I backed away from him, grabbing a fork off the counter beside me to protect myself. “Baby please, I’m sorry, let me explain. I’m sorry you had to see that.” I screeched when he tried to get closer to me, my hand with the fork in it shaking. “Y- you’re a monster. Who are you? Really. Don’t try to bullshit me like you did before, telling me how ‘you’re a businessman who happens to have enemies.’ businessmen don't have high school bullies locked in their houses. Hell, they don’t even date high schoolers, unless you're one of those old sleaze bags. I’m barely fucking legal and you’re like what? 25? Jesus this is bad. Just- let me and Bert go and stay away from us, I don’t want to see you anymore you creep.”

I ran to his room, grabbing my clothes as he stood in the kitchen, staring at where I had stood, frozen in utter pain. I know he wouldn’t give up that easily and I know he will probably have someone trail me for weeks until I confront him about it. I shed his hoodie and his boxers and pulled on my skirt and shirt. I ran back down the stairs, picking up my backpack where I left it by the door. Checking I had my phone in my jacket pocket, I walked out the door, feeling his guards eyes on me. I glared right back at them as I heard the front door swing open. “Gerard! Merda merda merda. GERARD!” he called after me, and I didn’t even turn around.

I flipped him off over my shoulder, walking out the gates and turning to my apartment, gazing over the fence into the gardens, seeing a tree hung with masks looking like trapped souls. I brushed it off as another eccentricity of a rich man who’s never been told no. I walked into my apartment, finally letting myself break down, calling Lyn-z. “Hey gee, whats up hun?”

“C- Can you come over? I stuttered out before breaking down completely into nothing but a waterfall of tears.

~.~.~.~

Lyn-z rubbed circles in my back, just like Frank did when I was upset, but her’s felt better because I knew she wouldn’t leave me. I snuggled into her side, upset with the news of what Frank did for a living and the fact I would probably never be safe ever again. I had given up on crying, settling for curling up against her side, having no intention of letting her go.

~.~.~.~

I walked into school with my head hung down, not wearing a skirt, instead trading it for black skinny jeans, doc martens, and a far too big hoodie. I was sad, yes, but the outfit was just a show for the person who was currently tailing me, not so secretly I might add. It was the same reedy looking boy who drove me home. I smiled and turned around waving to him, he looked startled that I had noticed him watching me. I turned and flounced into the school.

I walked to my locker, ignoring the looks I got for NOT having bodyguards now. I smiled at everybody walking by, happy that I could be near people again. I walked into class, smiling at the teacher before sitting in the seat that was now, unquestionably, mine. I turned to the front of the class right as the boy walked in, dressed as any teenage boy would. “Class, this is Adrian, he’s going to be here for the next few weeks for a foreign exchange thing the school signed up for. Please be nice, he’s travelled all the way from Italy to be here with us.” The teacher announced to the unsuspecting class.

Lies, lie after lie these people have told me, i thought, unconsciously pouting. I didn’t hear my teacher asking me to raise my hand so the new kid would know where to sit, I didn't see “Adrian” sit next to me, I didn't see him pull out his phone to text someone, glancing at me from time to time, never saying anything. I refused to see them, because that would mean this wasn’t just some horrible dream, this was reality, and sadly, reality had it in for me.

I walked out of the school, flouncing angrily off down the road to my apartment. My day had been full of “Adrian” sharing all my classes and not leaving me alone. Of course we had never spoken, not even made eye contact for more than a few minutes. I saw a van following along behind me, never passing me, but following me obviously. I kept walking, not showing signs of seeing it, hoping it would go away. I slipped my hand into my pocket, feeling my taser and pepper spray, fully prepared to fight. I heard a van door open and I turned around, pulling out the taser.

I glowered at the big, thuggish man looking awfully surprised to see me prepared. I lashed out, spraying him with the pepper spray before tasing him in the chest. I turned around when I heard distinctive footsteps, doing the same to the other man. I panted, leaning over, before feeling a hand on my shoulder and another wrapping around my neck. I screamed and bit down on the arm, hearing the man cry out in pain. His grip loosened and I took my chance to run. I ran past my apartment building, past the old K-mart and into the better neighborhood where I knew Frank had people everywhere, watching every street. I shrieked when I heard the footsteps still following me, turning around and giving the man a solid right hook right in the face.

I turned back around, continuing to run, my combat boots both being helpful and hindering me at the same time. I turned a corner, leaning against a random wall, panting. I saw a second indistinguishable van pulling slowly around the corner and I started sprinting again, knowing I couldn't do this forever. The bastards knew that and would continue chasing me till the adrenaline wore off and I gave up. I heard footsteps again before being yanked backwards into an alley. I screamed at the top of my lungs, hearing it echo off the walls of the alley.

The man grunted, slapping his hand over my mouth. With the other hand, he grabbed his walkie talkie “Got the boy sir, got Frank’s boy. Put up a real fight. Bringing him in now.” He clicked it off before securing my hands behind my back. Now let me tell you, most of the time, I’m down for being restrained, it’s nice even, makes life exciting. This however was not a nice kind of restraining, my lack of boner can state that fact for me better than I ever could.

I palmed my taser, before stretching back and tasing him right in the crotch. He groaned and let go of me completely. I turned and grabbed his head, ramming my knee into it, hearing a sickening crunch. My black leggings were soon a darker shade than before, and I must admit, it was disturbingly pretty. I turned back around, walking out of the alley way, knowing I had blood on my face. I smiled at a random woman on my journey to Frank's house, and she smiled right back, giving me a confused look.

I walked up the driveway of Frank's house, marching past the workers, glowering at everyone who even looked at me. I waved my hands, dismissing the people who tried to open the doors, preferring to throw them open myself. I marched into the forte and yelled at the top of my lungs, “Frank you need to tell your little mafia friends to stop trying to kidnap me, they ruined my pants with their blood.” I heard the army of dogs before I heard Frank's footsteps. I dismissed everybody nearby and crossed my arms as he entered the forte, a frown on my face, made all the more menacing by the blood on my face. I leaned down and picked up a small dog before marching past frank and up to where his office was before pushing open the door and stopping dead in my tracks.

I turned back to Frank who looked semi-guilty, semi-pleased with himself. I turned back to the room, where Lindsey and a boy in a collar were sitting. I raised my eyebrow at her and she whimpered. She actually whimpered. I turned to the boy in the collar and crossed my arms. I turned to the both of them before pointing to the door. They both got up and scampered out of the room. I walked around the desk, sitting in the chair that was normally Frank’s. I set the dog down in my lap where it settled down as I propped my legs up on the beautiful mahogany wood. I gestured for Frank to sit in one of the uncomfortable chairs where his clients normally sat. “Frank, hun, we need to talk. We both know I will never be safe again because of you and your dumb mafia business. We also both know I do not like the fact that you have someone tailing me in school. We both share this information and yet you continue to do these things, hell you’ve even got my best friend involved. You really are a creep.” The dog rolled over in my lap as I scratched it, wiggling about happily. “You owe me a new pair of leggings as well, these are stained, you know what size I am, I've seen the lingerie you bought for me. I want one body guard with me at all times and I get to choose who it is. Meet these demands by Monday before I really start some shit. Ask Christafano where my apartment is, oh, and tell that dear man that I say hello and he finally found a princess to protect.” I smirked before getting up and walking out of the office, leaving him speechless “Oh and this dog likes me, I’ll keep it as insurance you meet my demands.” I marched down the stairs, with the dog in my arms. Grabbing one of the ties left by the door, tying it around the dog’s collar, walking out the door. I smirked when I saw the workers staring at me with their mouths open. I knew this dog was his favorite, Sweet Pea was her name I think. She was an odd looking dog, but the sweetest little monster. I walked down the road and back to my apartments, satisfied with my day.

~.~.~.~

I waltzed out the door when I heard a knock. The weekend had flown by and it was monday already. I opened the door and smiled when I was met with the gleeful face of my friend. I squealed and wrapped him in a hug before pulling away and grabbing the leggings out of his hands, making small talk as I put them away and bustled about the kitchen, getting mugs and making coffee before walking to my room to get dressed for the day.

I walked out to see Christafano on his phone texting Peiro. The two of them were madly in love and they weren’t going to fall apart like me and Frank EVER. I swear, the two of them were inseparable. I’m thinking of making a demand to have Peiro join his boyfriend in the task of guarding me. I didn’t even need a bodyguard in all honesty, I just wanted a friend who I could trust.

My phone vibrated and I glanced at it, seeing it was a call from Lindsey. I left it on the counter, sipping my coffee and chatting with my friend, ignoring the near constant stream of notifications of calls and texts from Lindsey. The clock hit 7:30 and we had to leave, arriving at school around 10 minutes early, stopping at my locker as we chatted. I swear Christafano was like a teenage school girl all over again. Leaning on the lockers, giggling, chatting with me and smiling at people. We walked into the class a bit early, grabbing my seat at the back and continuing to chat until “Adrian” walked in. We sneered at him as he tried to get a seat near us, eventually giving up and sitting at the front. We laughed as he glowered at us, upset.

~.~.~.~

On the way home, Christafano’s phone was buzzing off the hook. People were clearly panicking on the other end but we opted not to answer, choosing instead to listen to the buzzing become more furious, like an angry bee or a five year old child after being told no. Something must’ve happened, they would never go against my demands unless it was serious. When his ringtone went off for the 15th time, I got sick of it and grabbed it from his pocket before he could stop me and picked it up. “Hello? What the hell do you need?” I angrily spat into the phone, hearing someone’s breathing hitch on the other line.

“Gerard? Oh thank fuck you’re ok.” the voice breathed on the other line, letting out a happy breath. I rolled my eyes, making a face at Christofano, making him let out a quiet giggle. “Yes, I am, now why the hell are you calling? In case you don’t remember, I told you not to contact me or Chris unless it was an emergency.”

“Well, we caught wind of a plot to hurt you and I panicked I guess?” I could basically see him rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. I rolled my eyes before hanging up abruptly, grabbing Christafano’s hand and leading him to my apartment, not noticing the man following us a few blocks back.

I marched into my room, flopping on the bed. “Chris,” I whined, “can you please make me some coffee?” I dragged out the vowels. He laughed before walking back out into the kitchen, and I could hear him shuffling around, before there was a heavy thump. I walked out of my room, walking into the kitchen, noticing all the lights were off. “Chris?” I softly called, before a hand reached around from behind and wrapped around my mouth, then everything went black.

~.~.~.~

I awoke with a scream, only for my mouth to be covered once again, having another wrapped around my waist, holding me still. I thrashed about, trying to bite the person's fingers. I felt my teeth make contact with one of their fingers and bit down hard, making the person let out a yelp and flinch against me. Pulling away from them I could see clearer now. I whipped around and growled at the person, drinking in their features while backing away. The man looked surprised at my reaction, their eyes wide. I bared my teeth and growled again, before feeling a bump under my feet.

My eyes widened, we were in a car? No, a van, a large van at that, that's why I hadn't hit the wall when I backed away. I jumped and the car shook. My face grew into a grin. I bounced up and down, watching the man who had been holding me listen to the sound of the truck’s internal workings slowly get more and more strained until the last fateful jump, the back springs broke, and the van hit the back wheels. He leaped up, growling, before grabbing me and tackling me to the floor. I landed with an “oomph” before throwing my head up into his, knocking him off of me, shoving him away.

We were now going an indeterminable amount of speed on 2 working tires and dragging the back half of the truck. I smiled at the man, knowing he was scared. I reached into my pocket for my taser before cursing and withdrawing my hand. It was gone.

I turned to the man who had righted himself, charging at him full speed, knocking him to the floor. I grabbed his nose and yanked before scurrying to the van's doors. I pulled on them and eventually got them open, turning to see the man staggering to me, his nose at an odd angle gushing blood. I turned to the open doors, seeing the road rushing below, before leaping off. I landed on the floor, in an almost superhero like pose. I launched to my feet and scrambled away off the road, searching for any sort of discernible landmarks.

I wrinkled my nose as the smell of gas reached my nostrils, a gas station coming into view. I walked in, spotting a dingy looking man smoking a cigarette behind the counter. I leaned on the glass, “Can I borrow your phone please sir?” he took in the bruises and cuts bleeding on my face, his face like stone. “What happened to you?” he responded gruffly, not responding to my question. I glowered, huffing. “Not important, I need to make a call. Now.” I added a sickening smile at the end. He muttered something about there being no respect for the lower class these days while pointing to the other side of the store where a white phone was located, and it was then I realized, I had no one to call. I considered calling Lind-z but decided against it. I couldn’t trust her. I had no choice, I picked up the phone, dialing my brother’s number.

~.~.~.~

“Hello?” he answered the phone, and I could hear the smoke in his lungs. I smiled faintly. “Hey Mikes, it’s Gee, I need some help.” I could hear him cough in surprise, soon turning into a hacking then a horrible retching sound. “Gerard? You need help? Mr. Move out at 16 because of being an ‘independent man?’ YOU need my help? Oh this is golden.” I winced at his admonishments, the reminders of my stupid mistake.

“Listen, I’m sorry ok? I’m fucking sorry, just, can you come pick me up? I’m at a gas station.” I pleaded, hearing him sigh heavily, and the shaking of a set of keys.

“Fine, fucking fine, just,” he hesitated “don’t just cut us out again. Mom and I miss you Gee, I know she’s not the nicest but still, she’s our mom.” I winced at the word mom, never wanting to hear it again. “Where are you Gee, I can’t pick you up if I don't know where I'm driving to.” I let out a fake chuckle, looking around for any sign of where I was. My eyes got stuck on a sign and widened.

“U-uh Staten Island.” I trailed off. Holy shit I was far from Belleville. Mikey whistled, bringing me back to earth.

“Did you follow a guy out there or something? How’s that Bert guy? Weren’t you two a thing?” I closed my eyes, willing away the thoughts of all the nights I spent with the man who was once my lover, but is now just my abuser.

I rubbed my forehead, willing away the tears that were threatening to fall, “Yeah, uh yeah we’re fine, we’re engaged.” I heard him sigh, he knew I was lying, he knew that Bert went out with other people, he knew my secrets, he was disgusted by them too. I started to breathe heavier, panicking.

“Yeah, ok, uh, I’ll come pick you up, stay where you are please Gee,” he hesitated, “love you.” the last part was almost inaudible but I still heard it, letting out a breath.

“Love you too Mikes.” I whispered, before hanging up the phone.

~.~.~.~

I drummed on my knees, sitting on the disgusting sidewalk, waiting for Mikey. I saw a man that resembled Bert pull up to the corner of the gas station with a guy on his lap and a girl with her ass up in the air. I bit the inside of my cheek. Hearing a car roll up in front of me I stood up, smiling when I saw Mikey hanging his hand out of the window, beckoning me to enter his beat up car.

I pulled open the passenger side door, getting in, before noticing the two people sitting in the back of the car. “Pete? The hell? And Frank? Really? Mikes why is Frank here?” I raised my eyebrows, asking Mikey for an explanation as to why he had an emo from a backyard band and a mafia leader in his backseat. He smirked.

“Pete is my boyfriend, and Frank is an old friend. Ignore them, why the hell are you out in the middle of Staten Island? Where are those bruises from? Does Bert hit you?” Frank’s fists clenched at the mention of Bert. I glared at Frank before turning back to Mikey. I twisted my face into a smile that didn’t reach my eyes.

“It’s a long story baby bro, one day I’ll tell you, not now, but one day.” He smiled at me and I smiled back, turning to the window and zoning out.

#fanfic #fiction #book #notcomplete #frerard #pls feedback #wattpad

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ndrv3winterexchange · 6 years

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Merry Christmas! ( @fryinhawaiian )! Here’s a much longer than expected Hope’s Peak AU kiiboumasai, I hope you enjoy it.

(I wasn’t sure if it would make more sense for Kiibo to be a robot or human so I left that kind of vague, you can read him either way.)

Title: I could be quite naive, happy in our make believe

Pairings: Kiibo/Kokichi, Kiibo/Saihara/Kokichi, and Kaede&Saihara

Wordcount: 9k+

Summary: Maybe they got his talent wrong, maybe he isn’t the Ultimate Detective, maybe he’s actually just the Ultimate Unlucky Student. After all, it has to be some cruel twist of fate that his first two crushes are not just taken, but dating each other.

It all works out in the end.

“And then Iruma-chan lifted Hoshi-kun by the shoulders to which he reacted rather poorly so he…” The rest of Akamatsu’s story is lost to him as the door to their classroom slams open.

Shuichi already knows what’s about to happen, and so does everyone else, which is why no one but him reacts to the loud sound other than a couple jerks of surprise. He brings his gaze up to the door and it is three seconds of nothing before Ouma bursts into the room hand outstretched as he points.

“Good morning my dear sweet darling Kiibo-chan,” A pause, “And the rest of you too I guess!”

Shuichi follows the pointed finger all the way to a thoroughly blushing Kiibo, already burying his face into his hands with a low moan as Amami laughs beside him. Ouma laughs at the reaction, which is enough to snap Kiibo out his embarrassed daze and begin to scold Ouma on appropriate behaviour and that just because they’re dating it doesn’t mean he needs to enter the classroom every day in the exact same way every morning and disrupt the class.

“Aww, but then I don’t get to see your adorably flustered face first thing in the morning!” Ouma pouts and then laughs when Kiibo’s expression turns indignant. “Hey, no need for that.”

Kiibo hums, “I suppose you’re right.”

Ouma opens his mouth to say something, but whatever it is, is lost as Kiibo leans down and gives him a small peck on the lips. His eyes widen, face turning a cute, adorable bright shade of red as Kiibo ushers him into his seat and the two begin a quiet conversation Shuichi cannot hear no matter how hard he tries.

His chest aches in jealously, longing, both, or something else he’s not sure of.

“Saihara-kun,” Akamatsu says and he blinks, realising he had spaced out on her.

“I’m sorry,” He says immediately, waving his arms frantically in front of him, “I didn’t mean to ignore you.”

She shakes her head, her eyes sympathetic as she flicks her eyes over to where Kiibo and Ouma are seated leaning into each other. “Hey, you’ll be fine,” she insists, one hand against his arm before she takes it back bring both arms up bent and fists clenched, “And if you ever want to talk about it I’m here for you, always!”

He laughs, painful and awkward as he pulls his hat down further, “Thank you Akamatsu-san.”

“No problem.” She beams, though he can still see the worry in her eyes. He’s almost grateful when their teacher arrives and she’s forced to turn out as class begins.

He sighs, looking over one last time to see Kiibo back in his seat, Iruma teasing him about something or another and Ouma already looking bored about the prospect of their teachers droning.

Maybe they got his talent wrong, maybe he isn’t the Ultimate Detective, maybe he’s actually just the Ultimate Unlucky Student. After all, it has to be some cruel twist of fate that his first two crushes are not just taken, but dating each other.

Shuichi meets Ouma first out of every one in their class.

He’s standing at outside the gates of Hope’s Peak staring up the school in all its glory. He’s hesitant to enter, still trying to grasp the fact that he really was scouted to come here. That someone looked at him and what he was able to do and thought he was good enough to be chosen.

His nerves mount at the thought and he begins to fiddle with his sleeves, maybe he should just go home? His uncle would understand, he was so very proud of him for accepting the invitation but actually being faced with the decision he maybe –

“Hey hat boy are you just goanna stand there all day?” A voice says, snapping him out his thoughts and he looks to see a boy in a checkered scarf and… a straitjacket? When the other notices Shuichi’s attention on him he grins wide, “Well, are ya?”

“Um,” He says, eyes flicking to the side and wondering if it’s too late to make an escape, “No.”

“That’s great, we’re the same age aren’t we?” The boy says, reaching out and grabbing one of Shuichi’s wrists, “And you aren’t wearing the school uniform, so I bet that means you’re an ultimate just like me starting today, we’re probably in the same class and everything.”

Shuichi blinks bewildered, and when the boy tugs on his wrist as he begins walking forward he can’t help but follow. He looks at the boy curiously, kind of impressed at his deductions if he’s being honest.

“Of course, that was all a lie, I don’t know a single thing about you maybe you’re just some weirdo that lurks outside the school. Or some deranged talentless loser who’s jealous of all of us who go here and you’re planning to kill me as we speak! Oh my and here I was trying to extend a helping hand to a boy in need and instead I’m about to get brutally murdered in some whacky way so complex that they’ll need to hold an extensive and needlessly complicated trial to figure out who did it.”

“I’m not, I wouldn’t ever kill someone,” Shuichi says, stumbling as the others pace quickens rushing them off somewhere.

Abruptly the other stops and he almost trips at the sudden lack of momentum. He twirls on his feel, leaning in close and Shuichi is amazed at how deeply purple they are, wide and shining with amusement.

“Well duh, that was a lie too! You look like you wouldn’t hurt a fly and a supreme judge of character. If anything, you should be wary of the guy who just dragged you halfway across the campus! What if I was leading you to some drug deal or a kidnapping.” The boy gasps, all fake shock and surprise, “You shouldn’t trust so easy, tsk tsk.”

There’s an almost sinister gleam in his eyes then, and yet Shuichi doesn’t detect anything even remotely malicious from the other, “I, I am not trusting you. You said you were a good judge of character; I would like to think I’m one too, and you seem like a good person to me.”

The boy pauses at that, face blank as he tilts his head to the side an action his awful head decides looks rather cute. There’s silence after that, and it stretches for so long he decides he must have horribly fumbled this conversation up somehow just as the other’s grin spreads wide across his face.

“I see, I see, you’re going to be a very interesting person,” The boy says, nodding his head sagely, “I guess I can tell you who I am then –Kokichi Ouma, Ultimate Supreme Leader, head of an organization that boasts over 10,000 members.”

He is overcome with the urge to ask more about it, that can’t possibly be true but if he’s lying he hides it well. Though, given most of what the boy has said he’s not entirely surprised. Regardless, “I’m Shuichi Saihara the” – he pauses, tugging his hat lower – “the Ultimate Detective.”

There are stars in Ouma’s eyes, it’s not true obviously but Shuichi can find no other way to describe the way his eyes seem to positively sparkle at the admission. He feels his face grow warm, it’s not really that amazing is it?

“Saihara-chan!” Ouma says and he feels his blush worsen at the suffix, “I’ll see you around, but don’t forget about little ol’ me.” The other finishes with a wink, disappearing into the door beside them.

His heart feels like it might jump out of his chest and he stares down at his wrist where the other had been holding him and then up at the door that he disappeared behind. The door to the gym, where the entrance ceremony was being held.

He doesn’t think he could forget about him if he tried; the other is odd, a mystery, and in the brief moment they just interacted for Shuichi can’t deny that the other caught his attention quite easily.

Shuichi takes a breath, just moments ago he was thinking about leaving and never coming back and now he’s here by what is seemingly some random person’s flight of fancy. Still, if he were one to believe in signs perhaps this is one and he takes the small amount of courage and pushes the door open.

Ouma is nowhere he can spot him so he takes a stand at the nearest empty spot he can find, next to a blonde girl who turns to enthusiastically greet him the moment she notices him. Her eyes are purple, just like Ouma he notes, but hers are shades lighter.

She grins widely and extends a hand towards him, “I’m Kaede Akamatsu and my talent is the Ultimate Pianist!”

He hesitantly shakes her hand and it’s the start of the best friendship he’ll ever have.

Ouma was right, they are in the same class and when he walks in through the door the first time the other practically tackles him to the ground with a loud exclamation of “Hello my beloved Saihara-chan!”

His head spins as he feels Ouma’s weight press against him and his response is barely heard over the other blonde in their class laughing so hard she sounds like she’s in pain. Its day one and half his classmates are already laughing at him, his hat flew off with Ouma’s attack and he wishes he had it to bury his face into and try to forget the whole situation.

Whether by some blessing of fate or Ouma noticing his discomfort; the other backs off with a laugh, and Shuichi scrambles to his feet grabbing his hat and hiding himself in it. Akamatsu steps in front of him and scolds the other on respecting boundaries while the rest of the class files in and stares at the odd scene before them. Shuichi sinks into his seat and wishes the ground would swallow him whole when Ouma catches his gaze in the midst of Akamatsu’s scolding and gives him a sly grin and a wink. In fact, every interaction with the other thereafter leaves him feeling like a stuttering mess of a person. Well, worse than usual anyways.

It’s a completely mature decision when he takes to mildly avoiding the other. Or, at the very least, it’s a decision that makes his heart feel less like it’s going to give out on him even if Akamatsu has taken to laughing at him every time he makes a hurried exit.

Maybe he can interact with the other like a normal human when his feelings stop ruining every attempt at conversation with Ouma. He’s not sure what Ouma thought of him when they first met other than apparently being ‘interesting’ but he can’t be thinking anything too charitable about him now.

Shuichi doubts he could have ever worked up the courage to confess, but it seems especially fruitless now and he writes off his first – still very much present – crush for the doomed failure it was probably always meant to be.

If his crush on Ouma was a sudden overwhelming force, impossible to ignore or dissuade much like the boy himself, his crush on Kiibo is something much more gradual, soft and unassuming until it has him gripped in its clutches.

He doesn’t interact much with the other at first, though they both get stuck doing a lot of the menial tasks in class. Shuichi because he doesn’t want to be a bother with saying otherwise but Kiibo seems to just have the innate desire to want to be helpful for everyone. It’s an admirable trait, Shuichi can’t help but think every time the other is the first to volunteer to run down to the principal’s office or help collect worksheets.

They run in different circles, the other is close to Amami, Iruma, and Gonta most notably. Though he and Ouma seem to have some kind of odd teasing relationship –Momota has berated Ouma for bullying Kiibo before but from what Shuichi can tell it’s mostly mutual bantering and neither ever seems truly offended by it.

The first most memorable he has of the other is an accident. He’s in a rush, trying to carry all the music sheets one of the teachers had given him over to Kaede’s lab. She has a performance coming up and had wanted to try some newer pieces that aren’t already present in the rather expansive library her lab. The stack is large enough to obscure his vision, but he hadn’t been too worried considering the late hour meant most students had already vacated the building and headed out into town or back to their dorms for the day.

Most doesn’t mean all however, and he crashes right into someone he can’t see, apologises flying out of his mouth before he even hits the ground.

“It’s alright!” A familiar voice calls out through the flutter of paper. “Do not worry Saihara-kun, it’s no big deal, let me help you pick these up.”

“Oh, Kiibo-kun, I’m sorry I didn’t expect anyone to still be in the halls.” He says, carefully but quickly picking up the scattered pieces of music sheets, “You don’t have to help me, it’s my fault and I’m sure you have more important things you have to do and –”

“It is no problem.” Kiibo interrupts firmly, “I have plans with Iruma-san later today but I can certainly take a moment to help you pick up some paper Saihara-kun. We’re classmates and friends, I can’t just ignore that.”

Shuichi blinks, somewhat bemused, “Well thanks then, I suppose. I appreciate the help.”

“It’s no problem,” He repeats, though this time instead of looking firm he smiles so bright it looks like he’s glowing.

He mutters a response, looking back to the ground and picking up the sheets around him and from the shuffling of paper he can hear Kiibo has taken to do the same.

Their hands touch on the last page, in a manner reminiscent of one of the mangas Akamatsu has borrowed from Shirogane. His hand is on the bottom, so despite how he wants to just rip his hand away he waits for Kiibo to remove his first as to not seem rude. Except, except moments pass and Kiibo’s hand remains still.

“… Kiibo-kun?” He asks hesitantly, looking up to meet Kiibo’s pensive expression.

“Your hand is very warm Saihara-kun, it’s quite the pleasant feeling.” Kiibo states and screw his previous thought he pulls his hand back towards him and grips it close as his face flushes.

“Excuse me?” He nearly shrieks.

Kiibo’s face changes from pensive to embarrassed, cheeks flaming as he raises his hands apprehensively, “I must apologize! That was an odd thing to say wasn’t it I was just rather amazed by how warm they felt but that really is no excuse.” He reaches out to grab the last piece of sheet music and hands it to him before leaving quickly down the nearest staircase.

He is left bewildered and flustered on the ground, confused as to what just happened. He walks to Akamatsu’s lab in an almost daze and her near annoyed pacing transforms to concern the moment she lays eyes on him.

“Hey, what happened, are you okay?”

He hands her the papers and feels their hands brush together. Hers are also warm, but Shuichi doesn’t feel like holding onto them for a weirdly long amount of time and from what he can tell that sentiment is returned. So what could Kiibo notice that neither of them seem to?

“I’m not sure?” He says seriously, and Akamatsu raises an eyebrow at him but otherwise lets the topic drop.

She sits at the grand piano at the center of her lab, placing one of the music sheets he brought over upon it and begins to play. He sits on one of the nearby stools, closing his eyes as he lets the music wash over him.

She really is so very talented.

He and Kiibo did not talk much before that incident, but he seems to hover around after. The next morning he greets Shuichi with a riceball and a deeply apologetic expression that he tries to wave off. It doesn’t work and Shuichi is left dealing with him until Iruma arrives and drags him away to talk about some experiment while she laughs.

He’s a more constant presence after that and Shuichi can’t say he minds. They’re about three months into the semester and aside from Akamatsu he can’t really say he’s made much headway in the way of friends. Ouma might’ve been one in the beginning but he doesn’t think it counts much anymore, and Momota is friendly enough but he feels a bit awkward around him if Akamatsu isn’t there to mitigate the other’s enthusiasm.

So when he asks if he can sit with them at lunch he readily agrees, and when they’re both stuck after school cleaning they spend the time having pleasant conversation. It’s an easy sort of friendship that Shuichi has never really had, even Akamatsu was a good while of him being awkward and weird while she stuck by him anyways. It’s nice.

School has just ended and he’s halfway out the building before he remembers he left the casefile his uncle let him borrow in his desk. It’s not urgent, just a minor case his uncle said he wanted his opinion on but leaving such confidential work over the weekend at school leaves him feeling uneasy.

The door to the classroom is wide open, which is odd it should be locked by now, but when he enters Kiibo is inside still sweeping.

“You’re still here? By yourself? Who was on duty with you today?”

Kiibo startles at the sudden sound, the broom nearly flying from his hands.

“Saihara-kun, you startled me!” He says, readjusting his grip on the broom as he commences sweeping again, “I was supposed to be doing this with Ouma-kun but he stayed for about 10 minutes before jumping out the window,” Kiibo sighs and then straightens up when he notices his expression, “He’s fine! He landed just fine, Ouma’s like an acrobat or something sometimes I swear.”

“Ah,” He says, not sure how to respond to that.

“No need to worry, Ouma’s always doing… odd things, I’m sure you know how it is.” He really doesn’t, Ouma still gives him the occasional enthusiastic greeting, but months of awkwardness have really put a downer on their never really there friendship.

Doesn’t stop him from still having a crush on him though.

“Anyways,” He replies instead, “I was just coming to pick up something I left but I’d feel bad leaving you here to do all the work.”

“You can leave it to me! I have it under control.” Kiibo says proudly.

“Still, we’re classmates right, friends? And friends help each other out,” he insists, parroting the sentiment the other had told him.

Kiibo blinks, recognition dawning as he nods heartily and acquiesces to his demand to help. Kiibo had already done quite a bit of cleaning before he got here, so they make quick work of the rest of it and are done in a short amount of time.

He sighs, looking around the room for anything they might have missed and when he doesn’t notice anything out of place heads to his desk to grab what he came here for in the first place. He takes the casefile out of his desk and places it neatly into his messenger bag.

“Thank you very much for your help Saihara-kun!” Kiibo says, placing a hand on his shoulder, “I know it’s the last day of school for the week and you probably had someplace to be.”

“N-no, I didn’t, it was no trouble really it didn’t even take that long.” He has to drag the words out of his mouth since all of the sudden they seem to be not working.

Kiibo smiles, eyes bright and Shuichi feels dizzy, “Nevertheless I really do appreciate it, but I have to run now the Professor is waiting for me, I hope you don’t mind me leaving you to lock up.”

“It’s fine,” he manages to say.

“Have a good weekend!” Kiibo says cheerily as he offers a weak wave back.

The room is quiet with Kiibo’s departure and the one thought ringing through his head is how warm Kiibo’s hand had felt on his shoulder. How it still feels slightly tingly now. Is this what Kiibo meant when he had called him warm before?

He stands there for a while, trying to process the warmth on his shoulder and his rapidly beating heart.

“Fuck,” he says to the air. He has two crushes; he doesn’t even know when this one happened.

Why is this his life?

He calls Akamatsu on the train over to his uncle’s office and she laughs at his predicament, he tries to stress the seriousness of it all but she just laughs harder.

“I’m sure it’ll all end up fine,” She says, voice tinny through his speakers but still notably cheery, “Look at it this way, now you have double the chances of having a successful crush. What are the chances they both say no?”

“Well,” he begins, mind already playing through every possibly awful scenario.

“Nope, nuhuh, don’t want to hear it!” She says cutting him off, and his objections die in his throat. “Repeat after me, everything’s goanna turn out okay!”

“Everything’s goanna turn out okay,” He says, almost as enthusiastic as her and garners a couple of odd looks for his troubles.

“Great, now I’ll talk to you later because I’m pretty sure your stop is coming up.” And just as she finishes the speaker announces that his stop is indeed coming up.

He laughs as he wishes her goodbye, and feels almost good about the whole thing.

So of course, two weeks later Ouma loudly announces to the class that he and Kiibo are now dating, and Kiibo follows it up with an agreement when half the class tells him to stop joking around.

When they’re looks are still slightly suspicious, Kiibo sighs and pulls Ouma closer to give him a short but sweet peck on the cheek. Ouma pushes him away almost immediately, flushing just the slightest shade of red but Shuichi can notice the small but soft smile that gently curves up on Ouma’s face.

The looks of suspicion turn to loud cheers as Iruma and Momota pick up Ouma, Gonta doing the same with Kiibo, and parade them around the room as the rest of the class shouts congratulations. It’s a bit over the top but Ouma seems to be loving every second of it despite Kiibo’s clearly embarrassed demeanor.

He feels a tug on his sleeve and looks over to see Akamatsu and almost winces at her expression. “I’m happy for them,” he says. And he really is, he likes both of them and wants them to be happy, and this is what makes them happy.

“It’s still all right to feel sad about it,” She replies, a determined frown on her face.

“Really, I am” He insists and Akamatsu gives a sigh so longsuffering and overdramatic it makes him crack a smile.

“Fine, I’ll drop it, but I’m still here if you need me!”

“Of course, I don’t doubt that at all.”

“Good, I’d have to whack you upside the head if you did.” That makes him break out into laughter, and Akamatsu grins as if she’s accomplished something.

He’s fine, really, it makes sense that this is how it end ups working out.

Ouma and he haven’t spoken much in a while, at least not one on one like they sometimes did at the beginning of the school year. Yet, as of late Shuichi feels like he’s popping up everywhere. In the library when he’s trying to study, on the way to the few times he actually bothers to visit his Ultimate Lab, seems to show up randomly when he runs errands in town. Ouma always acts like it’s a coincidence but Shuichi knows the other well enough to know that this many times can’t be anything less than planned.

He knows that much, but he’s not sure what it means. Their almost friendship had petered off and though Shuichi was never cold towards the other his crush had made him even more awkward to the point Shuichi had decided not talking to him was a better alternative to looking like an idiot.

He’s not sure what Ouma interpreted the situation as, but he had let it happen and never seemed to disgruntled by it. He’s not sure what to make of what’s happening now. But it’s nice, the other was always pleasant to talk to and it’s not often that he can talk to someone that can run logical loops around him.

What he does know, is that it’s slightly easier to talk to him now. His crush is still very much there, but knowing that Ouma is already dating someone is almost a relief in a sense. Who cares if he’s making a fool of himself, it’s not like Ouma’s single to take notice of him.

At least, that’s how he assumes it should be.

“My beloved Saihara-chan! Wait up for me wont you I ran halfway across the school just to find you.”

Shuichi startles, looking over to see Ouma bounding over to him. He stops to let the other catch up and wills his blush at the address down. Kiibo doesn’t seem to mind that he calls him that, but Shuichi isn’t sure it’s still appropriate now that he’s dating someone.

“Oh you actually stopped!” Ouma says once he catches up, “That was a lie you know, I just saw you walking past and thought how great it would be to bother you.”

“You could never be a bother to me Ouma-kun.” He says sincerely.

Ouma stares, face blank, before he grabs both of Shuichi’s hands and grins, “Wow flirting with a taken man are you? I didn’t know you we’re so bold Saihara-chan, maybe I really have misjudged you!”

“I would never,” he almost shouts, the comment smarts more than Ouma is probably aware, “Ouma-kun I would never do something so disrespectful as to try to come between the two of you when you seem so happy together. I am very happy to see that you two seem to be doing well together and I would never ruin it for such a personal agenda.”

Ouma is quiet for a second, “You really wouldn’t huh?” He finally says, but it sounds more like he’s talking to himself then to him.

“I really wouldn’t.” He confirms anyways,

He hums, leaning back away but intertwines their fingers together for a moment (a moment so quick Shuichi has to be imagining it) before backing away completely.

“I see, I see,” Ouma says, tapping a finger to his chin. “Well, I’ll be going now; it was nice talking to you my beloved!”

The amount of time he stands there for, switching between staring at the space Ouma had just vacated and his own hands, is unknown but it’s long enough for him to be startled back to attention by the ringing of the bell.

Study period is over, and their next class is beginning. He shakes his head and heads back to the classroom, he doesn’t have time to ponder whatever just happened here.

Ouma’s fervent renewal of their friendship aside Kiibo has also taken to acting weird around him too. Kiibo has always been friendly but aside from a hand on the shoulder or a very brief hug he is not particularly affectionate physically. It doesn’t really come up, considering Shuichi isn’t exactly a touchy-feeling person either, but he notices it with the others. He’ll accept them just fine if not gladly but he’s not one to give it out.

He knows this, so he’s not sure why it feels like lately whenever they hang out together it feels like Kiibo is making it his personal mission to invade his personal space as much as he can. An arm around his shoulder when they’re sitting side by side reading. Standing close enough to each other when they walk that their shoulders will brush together on occasion. Hugs that last just a moment too long.

It could just all be in his head, maybe he’s just hyperaware of the other since he has a crush on him, but it feels different somehow.

They’re walking to the nearby convenience store to pick up some things for everyone back at the dorms and again Kiibo is walking so close that their shoulders knock together and their hands brush against each other every couple steps.

Kiibo talks as if none of this is a problem, so Shuichi tries to ignore it to and he does such a good job of it that he doesn’t notice when they switch from just being close enough to brush to actively holding hands.

The other is still talking as if there’s no problem with what’s currently happening. Or maybe he hasn’t noticed, maybe he’s gotten used to doing this with Ouma that the habit just slipped out. If that is the case he’s not sure if he should say anything about it –maybe it would make things awkward?

Instead he tries to just remove his hand from the others grip without him noticing but he doesn’t even manage anything more than a tug before he feels Kiibo’s grip tightening against his hand.

“My hand is sort of cold Saihara-kun and you’re so warm, you don’t mind warming it up do you?” Kiibo asks, giving him a soft sort of smile that makes his heart skip a beat.

“N-no not at all, I don’t mind.” But… “Are you sure this is okay? You’re with Ouma-kun after all and this is kind of…”

“Kokichi-kun knows that we spend time together, he doesn’t mind.” Kiibo says immediately.

“I’m glad to hear that but sometimes it’s just –”

“He doesn’t mind at all that we hang out or what we do, there is no need to worry,” Kiibo repeats, and it’s not an answer to the question he’s asking but Kiibo seems to think it is so he lets the matter drop.

“If you say so.” He relents.

“I do, I am 100% confident in this so do not worry yourself about it,” Kiibo agrees, and then returns to the story he was telling before the interruption began.

Shuichi tries to listen, he really does, but his mind is stuck on how his hand practically feels like it’s burning from where they’re linked together.

It’s nice, it’s very nice, and he selfishly wishes they could do this more often before he mercilessly squashes the thought down.

“Happy birthday, Saihara-chan!” Ouma says, plopping a poorly wrapped present upon his desk.

“It’s not my birthday?”

“Happy friendiversary!” He corrects.

Shuichi looks over to the date, “Um, this isn’t any kind of month or week accomplishment I think, and you’ve never done this before.”

“Merry unbirthday!” He tries again, and when Shuichi opens his mouth again Ouma places his finger against his lips, “Hey just take it, don’t friends give each other stuff?”

“I suppose, but I don’t have anything for you so I’d feel bad –”

“You think I need anything from you? Someone’s self-involved, or maybe that was a lie? Either way don’t think so hard about it it’s just a random gift.” He says and then saunters back over to Kiibo and whispers something into his hear. Kiibo swats him away and the other slinks into his seat with a laugh.

“So what is it?” Akamatsu asks, bringing his attention back to her and the gift. She wiggles her eyebrows at him and he scowls.

The wrapping is bright and purple, glitter all over it, tied together by a pretty blue bow. His assessment of it being poorly wrapped proves to be correct because the moment he unties the ribbon the entire wrapping falls apart and glitter scatters all over his desk.

“Its…” he pauses, blinks, but the present remains the same.

“Well?” Akamatsu prods.

It’s a book by an old famous detective in England. One he’s been wanting for quite a while but there weren’t many put into print so it’s practically impossible to come by and any one he can find is well beyond his price range. He opens it, thinking that maybe it’s a joke, that just the cover is the same, but, no, the whole thing is the same. It’s even one of the earliest editions where each chapter end has some additional written notes from the detective. On the back is a sticky note with a small doodle of what looks like Ouma sticking his tongue out and winking with the message “You’re welcome, Saihara-chan!”

How did he even know he wanted this? He’s absolutely sure he never mentioned this to other, or anyone for that matter. He thinks it might’ve come up once in a conversation with Kiibo once but that doesn’t really explain why Ouma would know about it. It was a one-off moment and there’s no reason for Kiibo to mention it to the other even if he did remember.

Maybe it’s a coincidence? However, he can’t seem to shake the feeling it isn’t.

“Hello? Earth to Saihara-kun, what’s the present?”

“Oh, it’s a book I’ve really been wanting,” He says, still staring at the book “Really been wanting.” He mutters, somewhat in awe.

“Well that’s nice of him!”

He agrees, turning to look over at Ouma who is already staring at him at grins slyly when he notices Shuichi’s gaze. He blushes, turning back to the book.

Nice, he affirms mentally, just nice, it’s what friends do.

When he looks back Akamatsu is laughing quietly into her palm and refuses to tell him what exactly is so funny.

“Saihara-kun, would you mind helping me with something today after class?” Kiibo asks him during lunch, he seems oddly at ease considering Ouma is leaning against him as he sleeps, snoring just loud enough to be audible. It looks sweet, precious, seeing them so casually intimate with each other and he feels something that definitely isn’t jealously but he can’t quite place at the sight.

He fidgets, and focuses on a space just behind Kiibo when he responds, “Yeah sure, no problem!”

“Fantastic!” Kiibo says, just loud enough that it Ouma wakes up, sitting up straight as he blinks blearily.

“What happened?”

“Saihara-kun agreed to help me out today.” Kiibo says cheerily and Ouma perks up immediately.

“How exciting!” He says, leaning over to pat Shuichi on the cheek, “Have fun on your date tonight boys!”

“It’s not a date,” he says weakly as Ouma stands and leaves, heading over to where Amami and Shirogane are sitting.

“I’ll pick you up after class,” Kiibo says after a moment, and then switches topics to something else.

It’s not a date, it can’t be.

He repeats the phrase like a mantra as he watches Kiibo flit around the kitchen in the Home Ec room.

Kiibo had apparently wanted his help taste testing some recipe he found online. He’s pretty sure his is something he’d be better off doing with Ouma, especially considering the table he’s seated at has a table cloth thrown across it and is set up vaguely like they’re at a restaurant. The whole thing seems somewhat romantic but Ouma knew this is what they were doing, had even told them to have a good time.

So this is just a friendly thing. Shuichi was free and Ouma wasn’t and Kiibo just likes to be fancy. He’s sure if Tojou were the one doing this the table would be done up in an even more elaborate manner and she definitely wouldn’t have meant anything by it so clearly he’s just reading into this too much.

“Sorry for the wait, Saihara-kun. I hope it’s not too bad I’ve never tried anything quite like this.” Kiibo says, placing a plate in front of him. It’s a simple dish, but the presentation is elegant, like something from a cooking magazine.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine, but what made you want to try this out?”

Kiibo flushes at the question, rubbing the back of his head, “No reason, I just thought it would be fun to try out something new, and it’s nice to share things with others and we’re close so I thought it would be a good idea.”

“Thank you for inviting me then, I’m really glad we’re friends!”

“… Right, friends,” Kiibo agrees, smile looking slightly strained, “Enough about that, let me tell you something Amami-kun told me about his travels the other day it was really interesting actually.”

Shuichi listens attentively as he eats, and it’s actually surprisingly tasty and Kiibo practically puffs up in pride when he mentions it. It’s a nice dinner, though the effect is ruined when one of the upper years throws the door open.

“Are y’all done in here me, Chihiro and Ishimaru booked this room for 5 and we’d like to get started.”

Shuichi jumps, and then practically falls out of his seat when he notices their hands have been intertwined the whole time.

“Thank you very much for the d-dinner Kiibo-kun it was lovely but I think I’ll be l-leaving now.”

Kiibo opens his mouth to speak but whatever he was going to say is lost to Shuichi as he bolts out of the room shoving past the taller male standing in the doorway.

What just happened? That was… that wasn’t a date it couldn’t have been so what in god’s name just happened here.

It keeps happening. Again and again, the two of them hover around him with sweet words, and hanging out and the occasional gift and sweet smiles and he feels like he’s going insane. They both have to know what the other is doing, and neither seems offended by it so it can’t be what it feels like it is but this isn’t how friends act.

Sure he isn’t the most experienced in the friendship area but he knows that much. But even if it isn’t what is he supposed to do about it? Is he supposed to do anything? He likes both of them, and if this weird but pleasant friendship is what he can have with them then he doesn’t want to lose it. Though he’s not sure how much more of this his heart can take.

“Akamatsu-san,” he says weakly as she raises an amused eyebrow at him.

“Yes dear?” She responds playfully and he groans, burying his face in his hands.

“Are you ever just confused, at a loss for what to do? Like your life is spiraling out of control?”

Predictably, she laughs, “Hey calm down, we’re teenagers the world isn’t ending any time soon no need for the raincloud.”

“But…” He protests.

“Nope,” she says, putting a hand out, “remember what I told you? That everything will work out just fine?”

“Yeah…” It hadn’t, though it’s better now.

“Well trust me on that, I know what I’m talking about.”

He sighs, “If you’re sure.”

“Always am!” She agrees cheerily, patting him on the shoulder, “Now come on you promised me lunch.”

Everything will be just fine, he repeats, just like she had told him to before. Maybe this time it’ll actually work.

Ouma corners him in an empty classroom, he’s not sure how they ended up here but what he does know is that the other sure can be imposing when he wants to. Despite being half a foot shorter it feels like Ouma is looming over him.

“Ouma-kun do you need something?” He asks, trying not to appear as off-kilter as he feels.

“You know,” Ouma replies, apparently ignoring his question, “As a supreme leader I’m used to subtle missions, misdirection, and having to take things slow but sometimes you need to take a more forward approach. Sometimes there’s nothing more efficient than just being straight up in what you want.”

“O-Ouma-kun I’m not sure I understand what you’re getting at here,” He says, taking a step back, and then another when Ouma follows him forward.

“That’s the problem Shuichi-chan, you really aren’t getting it.” Ouma says, eyes narrowed and grin sly and Shuichi thinks he might faint.

“You called me by my first name Ouma-kun,” He says faintly and his heart rate rockets when he feels his back hit the wall and Ouma continues moving forward.

“I did!” Ouma agrees, rising up on his to stand on his toes and his face is so close and Shuichi’s knees feel so weak. “Don’t panic about this too much, it’s a-okay with the both of us.”

He doesn’t even get to ask what the other is talking about before Ouma tugs him down and presses their lips together.

Ouma’s lips are chapped, and he can taste the grape chapstick he has on, but the sensation is still nice; warm and just for the moment Shuichi forgets the situation and loses himself in it. It’s just as good, if not better, than he had imagined it would be and his arms rise unconsciously to grip Ouma’s shoulders and pull him in closer. The other makes a pleased sound and Shuichi feels his lips quirk up at the nouse.

Then the door swings open and reality comes crushing down on him. He pushes Ouma away, covering his mouth with one of his hands as he slides down the wall.

God, Oh God what did I just do.

It felt so nice and he wants to do it again and fuck he’s an awful person isn’t he.

“Kokichi-kun I told you not to do this it would be too much at once.” Comes Kiibo’s voice and Shuichi chokes, it’s bad enough someone walked in on them but Kiibo? How can he ever look at him in the face again?

“We’ve been at this for over a month and he still hasn’t caught on, I thought it would speed things up.” Ouma responds, voice casual as if he hadn’t just been caught cheating on his boyfriend.

“What you’ve done is throw him into a panic attack.” Kiibo says, and he wants to argue, he’s not having a panic attack he’s just extremely overwhelmed and he might have one soon but not now.

“I told him not to panic before I kissed him. I told him that we were both okay with this it’s not my fault he didn’t listen.” Ouma argues, though even though his near panic he can tell the other sounds almost regretful.

“Because you’re just so trustworthy. The most honest person in our class.” Kiibo says, kneeling down in front of him and ignoring Ouma’s indignant shout of ‘hey’.

“I’m sorry.” He says immediately and Kiibo shakes his head at the apology.

“You don’t need to be, this perhaps wasn’t the best way to go about it but Kokichi-kun is right. Our other methods weren’t working out so maybe now is the time to be direct.”

“Ouma-kun said the same thing, but I don’t get it.” He replies after a moment, panic subsiding as he realises that Kiibo is neither upset with him or even offended. Ouma’s words from before come floating back, had he really been okay with this?

“We, uh,” his face heats and Ouma snickers from behind him, “we know that the two of us are dating. But we both also like you, and I hope it is not too presumptuous to assume that you like the both of us as well? So we were hoping we could all date together, we were trying to be a bit subtle about it, to court you so to say but you weren’t catching on despite out best efforts.”

“Yep,” Ouma cuts in, popping the p, “for a detective you’ve been super oblivious about this. It’s almost shameful.” He says, and then laughs when Kiibo shoves him for the comment.

“You’ve been… flirting with me, both of you?” He breathes, and then mouths the words again as if it will make it make any more sense.

“Have been for the past months, thanks for finally catching on.” Ouma says blandly, leaning down to pat him on the cheek and Shuichi is in too much shock to say anything about that.

“I have.” He argues faintly, “I’ve noticed that the two of you have been affectionate and overtly kind at times. And in theory I understood what those actions meant but I can’t…”

“You could not accept that the both of us, either of us, would be showing signs of affection to you while in a committed relationship with the other.” Kiibo finishes for him when it becomes clear he’s not going to himself.

He nods, gaining traction with Kiibo’s words. “Yes, exactly, sure I have heard of relationships like the one the two of you seem to be implying but I would never assume that that was what actually happening. I mean, that both of the people that I have had a crush on for, for months would not only be interested in me but with each other and the fact that we would all apparently be okay with it seems high unlikely. And life is rarely so kind as to allow to things to work out so perfectly for me so of course I would be skeptical of it. I thought it was just wishful thinking on my part, that I was just reading into things what I wanted to but I could never ask, what if I was wrong and ruined it. I like being friends with the both of you and if –” He stops abruptly, a finger pressing against his lips and shushing him.

He looks at it until his eyes cross and then up at the apologetic Kiibo who it belongs to.

“I think you’ve said enough.” He says, face turning red.

“Oh definitely,” Ouma agrees, and although he sounds nonchalant Shuichi can see the faint blush on his cheeks, “‘both of the people I’ve been crushing on’, ‘all be okay with it’, if that isn’t a confession and an acceptance of our proposal than I don’t know what is.”

It’s his turn to blush then and he can’t help the low embarrassed moan that he lets out. “I do,” he says, voice shaking, “I do like the both of you, I have for months and if you’ll,” he hiccups, and with muted horror realises he’s crying, “shit.”

“Hey, Saihara-kun,” Kiibo says, “Would you mind if I kissed you?”

He blinks, fresh tears rolling down his cheeks at the action, and the question seems almost surreal. Just moments ago Ouma was kissing him, and even less than that the both of them are trying to tell him that they like him too and want him to join in on their relationship.

He nods, the action feels like both acceptance and allowance at once.

Kiibo smiles, soft and warm and the kiss feels just the same. It’s sweet, and he feels like laughing when he feels Kiibo brush away the tears from his eyes, instead he leans forward pressing their foreheads together. When they break he feels like he can breathe again, and then he actually does laugh.

“Did you know?” He asks as the two of them pull him up to his feet, “That when you’re dreaming most of the time you’ll have too many or too little fingers. I have ten, so I’m not dreaming, probably.”

“Wow, any more I riveting trivia Shuichi-chan?” Ouma asks and it is only the fact that the two of them are holding each of his hands that keep him from falling when he trips.

“You called me by my first name again.” He says, eyeing a grinning Ouma from the side.

“We’re dating now my beloved, why wouldn’t I?” Maybe because every time he hears it he feels like his heart might implode.

“Kokichi-kun is correct, if you’re okay with it then I too would like to call you by your first name Shuichi-kun.”

“That’s fine,” he croaks, and briefly wonders if they’re trying to kill him through kindness.

“While we’re at it, you already call Kiiboy by his first name, so you should call me Kokichi-chan!”

“Absolutely not!” He says immediately, he’s sure he wouldn’t be able to get through that once without stuttering through the whole thing. “But, if it would make you happy then I’ll call you by your first name too, Kokichi-kun.”

The name feels intimate when he says it and both of them tighten their grip on his hands as if they can tell he wants to grab his hat and pull it down until he disappears. Gonta and Kiibo had insisted since day one to be called by their first names but the switch from one to the other feels momentously different.

The entire situation leaves him off-kilter for long enough that he doesn’t even notice when they reach his dorm. He stares at the dorm room, then at the two of them, and then back to the door to his room.

Ouma laughs and when he turns to question why he leans up and presses a kiss to his cheek at the same time Kiibo kisses the other one. His face flushes so fast he thinks it might make him overheat.

“Uh,” He says, the door to his room clicking open.

“We’ll talk more tomorrow when you look more like a functioning human being.” Ouma says, pushing him into his room.

“Ah,” he responds, stumbling in.

“Thank you very much for agreeing,” Kiibo chimes in, voice sincere, “we’re both very happy that you did, I hope you understand that.”

Shuichi nods listlessly, trying to get his heartbeat to calm to a moderate rate.

Ouma snickers, “Let’s go he needs a nap or something. But he’s right you know, and that’s not a lie.”

“I hope you rest well Shuichi-kun, we’ll talk more tomorrow.”

“Alright,” He says after what he hopes wasn’t an inappropriately long amount of time and the door swings shut behind him with Ouma’s parting wave.

He leaves it unlocked, sends a text message to Akamatsu, and then promptly falls into his bed and passes out.

When he wakes up Akamatsu is seated at his desk typing away on her phone. When she notices his gaze she grins at him with a wink.

“Didn’t I tell you that it would all work out?”

He groans, throwing one of his pillows at her as he sits up, and her resulting laughter though expected is still displeasing.

“You couldn’t have possibly known that I would end up in a polyamorous relationship with the two of them. I don’t even care if you did know, because that means you watched me make an idiot of myself for over a month and said nothing about it.”

Akamatsu doesn’t answer him, but her laughter speaks for her clear enough.

“I hate you sometimes.”

“No you don’t.” She retorts.

“No, no I don’t.” He agrees.

“Look at this way, now you have double the boyfriends, you have boyfriends squared, the possibilities are limitless.”

“Stop, stop right there, that’s not what I called you here over for.”

“Oh, then why did you?”

“I don’t know,” he says, thinking of everything that happened before he got back to his room and wondering if it’s possible for the brain to short circuit.

Akamatsu hums at his reply and then begins to talk about how practice for her next performance is coming along. He lets the words wash over him, half a mind on her and her story, and half a mind on the events of this afternoon.

He just needs time to process and Akamatsu has always been good at helping him with that.

The next day when he exits his room he is assaulted by Ouma – by Kokichi, he mentally corrects – who latches himself onto his arm while Kiibo hands him a cup of coffee.

“I know it’s rather early, so take more time to think about it if you need to, but you’re still okay with what we talked about last night right?”

Shuichi nods readily, he’s sure of his answer now, “Absolutely, if you’ll have me than I am more than happy to accept.”

“That’s fantastic,” Kiibo says, looking almost relieved.

“Mushy stuff aside let’s go, I can’t wait to see the look on Harukawa-chan’s face when she hears I have two boyfriends, it’s going to be hilarious.” Kokichi says, moving from his latched position to grab him by the hand and begin dragging him along.

The action is reminiscent to the first time they met, and just like before he lets the other lead the way easily making sure to grab Kiibo along with them. He thinks it’s a nice picture, the three of them walking hand in hand to class as Kokichi leads them along.

It’s nice, it’s more than nice, and Shuichi is amazed he actually gets to have it.

The movie hasn’t ended yet, but Shuichi turns it off anyway, flipping the channel to a news station instead. They’ll finish it another time.

The newscaster begins to talk of some scandal with some politician but he mainly tunes it out as he focuses on his situation at the moment instead. It was supposed to be a movie marathon tonight, but Kokichi hadn’t even lasted through halfway through the second one before he had fallen asleep head cushioned in Shuichi’s lap. He runs a hand through the other’s hair smiling gently. Kiibo hadn’t lasted much longer either, all but dead to the world against Shuichi’s shoulder now, but he doesn’t really mind.

He’s happy to spend time together just the three of them no matter what they do, and there’s something quiet and peaceful about having them both of his boyfriends asleep against him. It’s enough to make him sleepy as well, though that might just be the late hour taking its toll on him.

He leans his head to side, resting it atop Kiibo’s on his shoulder, and laces one of his hands with Kokichi who though asleep grips back easily. He closes his eyes and lets the soft sounds of their breathing and the low droning of the television lull him to sleep.

He’s so very glad he let Kokichi drag him along that first day of class so long ago and convinced him knowingly or not to not back out of coming to this school. He’s not sure he ever would have found something like this if he hadn’t.

And this is something he wouldn’t give up for the world.

#kiiboumasai #shuuichi saihara #kiibo #kokichi ouma #ndrv3 #submission

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