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dreamwritesimagines · 3 years

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Burn The Witch 15 - Liar Liar [Bucky Barnes x Reader]

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support and feedback my loves ! ❤ Here’s the next chapter, I hope you like it as well and please let me know what you think! ❤ Thank you! ❤❤❤

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, fake dating, mentions of blood, sex, violence, death, manipulation, language, guns, knives.

Summary: Dishonesty requires practice.

Series Masterlist

Every spy knew things could go downhill on a mission. Considering how your last mission had ended with your ex, you weren’t exactly unfamiliar with the idea of your cover being blown but—

None of the targets were as dangerous as this one.

For a moment, you thought about pushing that button on your wristwatch and calling your whole team here because there was no way you could take down the legendary Winter Soldier in a fight, but through the haze of panic, a voice in your head told you not to.

It was just a mission.

As long as you kept your calm, you could fix this.

“Bucky,” you heard yourself say, “I can explain.”

He stared at you and the gun in his hand, then raised his brows.

“Okay,” he said, “Yeah, please explain why you have a gun.”

God damn it.

Okay, you had to think. Your cover was the naïve sweet civilian girl so any sentence you formed had to fit the description. The spy in you was already trying to come up with something, you had been taught to lie without even blinking but somehow it felt almost—

Wrong.

You tried to pull yourself together, shaking your head.

“I—it’s—“ you took a deep breath, “Yeah I have a gun.”

“I can see that,” he said drily, “Why?”

Good question.

Why would the small town sweetheart have a gun?

The cover story didn’t have anything like that, so you had to come up with a believable lie based on—

Oh. Bingo.

“I was going to tell you,” you said. “I’ve actually—I’ve had it for weeks.”

“For weeks?” he repeated, “Why?”

You ran a hand over your eyes, then crossed your arms and shrugged.

“I’m going to need more than that, Y/N.”

You gritted your teeth and raised your glances to look up at him. “After I got mugged,” you started, “I told one of my friends back home about what happened and she’s—she came up with this idea that I should maybe buy a gun because I—I don’t know. I don’t know why I bought it, I just bought it.”

“You bought a gun because your friend told you to?”

You tilted your head, “No Bucky, I bought a gun because I got mugged and got shot within the first month of moving here.”

His gaze on you was fixed, as if he was trying to see whether you were lying or not but now that panic wasn’t taking over you, you could think straight.

Bucky was a legend among the espionage world and he was unstoppable and you probably didn’t stand a chance against him yes, but you had one advantage.

Bucky was a soldier, not a spy.

Spies were different. Bucky had the physical training to go after a target, but he never, ever had to manipulate them emotionally. You were one step ahead on that and if there was anything that could get you out of this mess, that was it.

“Listen I know that you’re concerned, but you have nothing to worry about,” you waved a dismissive hand, “The guy at the shop was very helpful, he even gave me his number—”

His head shot up, “What?”

“Yeah in case I needed anything with the gun. Or if I had any questions.”

A shadow crossed his eyes and he scoffed, shaking his head.

“Did he now?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “And besides, I watched a bunch of tutorials so I think I got it. I’m a very quick learner.”

“Tutorials?”

“Yeah, videos.”

He blinked a couple of times, and looked down at the gun before looking up at you.

“You watched videos.”

“Mm hm. One of the guys even had a deer head mounted on the wall behind him, it’s very clear he knows what he’s talking about.”

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered to himself and you had to remind yourself not to smile.

“And I know how to take the safety off,” you added, “After that point it’s basically point and pull the trigger, that’s what the video said.”

“I don’t even know where to begin— sweetheart,” he turned to you, “Forget what the video said, I can teach you if you want, but for what it’s worth, I think it’s a terrible idea.”

Hook, line and sinker.

“I hate guns,” you insisted, “It’s just that—Stacey said it’s a big city and after I got shot… I don’t know. I know I should’ve told you, I just didn’t want you to think I’m some kind of a paranoid person.”

He heaved a sigh and reached out to tug you by the hand so that he could pull you closer.

“I don’t think you’re paranoid,” he said. “I just think that you could hurt yourself or someone if you don’t have any training.”

“The guy made it sound pretty easy.”

“Yeah, I don’t think selling it was the only thing he wanted.”

You rolled your eyes at him, “Now who’s being paranoid?”

“I’m just being observant.”

“Jealous.”

“I’m not jealous,” he said and you scrunched up your nose

“Right,” you said, “Of course you’re not.”

“So is there anything I should know about?” he changed the subject, “Anything at all? I won’t judge, I swear.”

You pressed your lips together as you looked up at him. What could you say to that?

I’ve been manipulating you all along.

I’m working for the same government that is looking for you to slip and make a mistake.

When this is over, I’m probably going to hate myself much more than you hate me.

Yeah. There was absolutely nothing you could say.

“Nothing I can think of right now,” you shrugged your shoulders, “So, can we go now?”

***

You could barely remember the last time you had been to a funfair. It didn’t even matter that you already knew where you were going, you were still quite excited despite the earlier panic you had gone through. Thankfully, Bucky seemed to have bought into your story but it didn’t mean you weren’t taking mental notes about what to do by the time the date was over.

Or when you were out of his sight, whichever.

“Thank you!” you said what it felt for the hundredth time as you put a piece of cotton candy into your mouth, enjoying the sweet taste melting in your mouth and Bucky smiled at you fondly.

“No problem darling.”

“No seriously, I haven’t been to a funfair in…I don’t know, forever!” you said, “Wait, so it was a thing back then?”

“Hm?”

“Bringing your date to a funfair?”

He nodded, walking beside you, “Yeah. There wasn’t much to do and you know, lots of people.”

“So no gossip?”

“Lots of gossip,” he corrected you, “But at least—“

“No one’s virtue got damaged.”

“You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

“Nope,” you grinned at him and gasped when something caught your eye, making him turn his head.

“What?”

“Oh my God!” you pointed at the huge neon sign and he followed your gaze, then scoffed a laughter.

“Seriously?”

“I want to try it.”

“Shoot The Ducks.” He read out loud, “You know what, let’s see how good you are if you watched that many videos.”

“I’m going to get that teddy bear,” you pointed at the biggest teddy bear sitting on the top shelf while he looked like he was fighting a laugh.

“Are you sure you can carry that?”

“You’re going to carry it for me,” you said as you handed him the cotton candy, your nose in the air and tugged him by the wrist to lead him to the shooting range. You took a look at the paper ducks with bullseye on them, then turned to the man behind the counter.

“Excuse me, how many of those should I shoot to get that?” you asked, motioning at the teddy bear and the man looked up.

“3 sets, all bullseye.”

“Okay,” you said and reached for your purse but Bucky had already paid the man by the time you could get your wallet out. He gave you the toy rifle and you had to remind yourself you were supposed to be terrible at it no matter how much you wanted that goddamn plushie.

The good thing about being an expert sniper was that you knew exactly how to miss and look like an amateur. So you pointed the rifle slightly to the right and took your shot, and as expected you missed.

“No!” you whined and Bucky stifled a chuckle, but adapted a look of seriousness as soon as you turned around to look at him with your eyes narrowed.

“I said nothing.”

“That was just bad luck,” you insisted, then took your shot again, deliberately missing once more. You lowered the rifle, pouting.

“I’m pretty sure this is rigged.”

“Or maybe the guy with the deer head on his wall had no idea what he was talking about,” Bucky pointed out, “Almost like watching videos isn’t enough to figure out how to shoot, wouldn’t you say?”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying this.”

“On the contrary, I am a little terrified now that I know you have a gun," he taunted you, “And seeing this…”

You glared at him and took your shot, missing again and you heaved a sigh, lowering the rifle again.

“Better luck next time miss,” the man said and you offered him a small smile. Bucky heaved a sigh as if he was fighting himself.

“Which one did you say you wanted again?” he asked and you pulled your brows together, then pointed at the huge teddy bear. He nodded at the guy and handed him some cash after giving you your cotton candy back, then grabbed the toy rifle from the man and in only a couple of seconds, he had hit every single bullseye, making your jaw drop.

Okay.

You were so screwed.

You knew that he was a great super soldier but seeing it was something else. A shiver ran down your spine as what you had read on his file flashed before your eyes. You were right earlier, you had to make sure to avoid any kind of combat with him by the time this whole mission was over.

“Y/N?”

Your head shot up and you tried to pull yourself together, letting out a breath.

“Wow,” you managed to say and the man behind the counter gawked between you two.

“Um— that one please?” you said and he blinked a couple of times, then reached out to take the teddy bear down to put it into your arms. You let out a small squeal of glee, then beamed at Bucky.

“Thank you!” you said, trying to keep your nervousness hidden and he smiled.

“No problem,” he motioned at you and you gave the teddy to him so that you could hold your cotton candy better. You shook your head slightly, distracting yourself with the sweetness on your tongue but a small laughter escaped from your lips when you took a look at the sight beside you.

The scary Winter Soldier holding a huge teddy bear in his arms.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you managed to say, “I’m going to name him Bucky.”

“No you’re not.”

“Fine, I’m going to name him Grumpy,” you said, “Same deal.”

“Hey!” he protested and you giggled, then looked around.

“Come on,” you said, grabbing his hand, “Let’s go to the Ring Toss!”

***

It was as if the time was going faster on your every single date with Bucky. Even after spending hours in that funfair until midnight, you were still quite giddy when you and Bucky reached your building. You let out a giggle as you turned around and took the huge teddy bear from him, hugging it tight.

“Thank you,” you said, looking up at him, “Really. I…I think it was the best that I’ve ever had.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah!” you said, “And now I have to find something equally amazing for a modern date, so no pressure.”

He chuckled, “You don’t have to find anything,” he said, “I’d be happy just being with you, not doing anything.”

Warmth filled your insides and you smiled.

“Really?”

“Really,” he nodded and you put the teddy bear down, then stood on your tiptoes to pull him down to a kiss.

His arm wrapped around your waist and you found yourself sighing as his other hand cupped your cheek. A fire – a very, very familiar fire started burning at the pit of your stomach as you felt yourself melt at his touch, every single doubt about the mission and the strategies and everything else wiping out of your mind until desire was the only thing left. He brushed your hair behind your ear as you pulled back and looked up at him, the same fire burning in his eyes but he was better than you at hiding it so a gentle smile pulled at his lips.

Fuck what the strategy report says.

“Um—“ you took a deep breath, “Would you want to come upstairs for...a cup of coffee or something?”

He looked almost surprised at the suggestion but for what it was worth, he overcame that quite fast. His gaze stopped on you for a moment before he nodded.

“Yeah,” he said, “Yeah I’d love to.”

A nervous laughter escaped from you and you nodded,

“Okay—“ you started but before you could say anything, his phone started ringing. He closed his eyes for a moment and took it out of his pocket to answer it.

“This is not a good time man,” he said, but his frown deepened as he listened to the other line, “Right now? Are you serious?”

You tilted your head and he heaved a deep sigh while the person told him something you couldn’t hear.

“Fine,” he muttered, “I’ll be there.”

Oh God damn it.

“Let me guess,” you said when he hung up, “Change of plans?”

He ran a hand over his eyes and nodded.

“Sam says there’s this group of people in need of help…” he grumbled, putting the phone into his pocket, “But somebody better be dying because if not, I can fix that really fast.”

You let out a laugh, “Don’t be like that,” you said, “It’s fine. I told you, I’m not going anywhere. Go save lives.”

“I’m really sorry darling.”

“It’s fine,” you repeated with a smile and pecked him on the lips before picking up the huge teddy bear. “But be careful, you hear me?”

“Yes ma’am,” he saluted and you blew him a kiss before walking into the building. You took the elevator, still holding the teddy tight and as soon as you got to your floor you stepped out.

“What the hell is that?” Keith’s voice reached you and you tilted your head to look around the teddy’s arm to see him by his door, as if he was just leaving.

“It’s a teddy bear,” you said, walking to your door to open it, Keith following you into the apartment.

“What’s in it?” he asked, “Weapons? Guns? Knives?”

“…Fiber.”

“Y/N—” he started but you put it on the floor and took a step back.

“Where are you going?”

“General gave me a mission,” he said, “You seriously want me to believe you just got a teddy bear just because?”

“I was on a date.”

“Oh,” he said, “Romantic. It would be a great way to hide weapons though, even you have to admit—”

“Bucky found my gun.”

Keith stopped talking and stared at you for a couple of seconds, “I beg your pardon?”

You rubbed at your eyes, “You heard me. He found my gun.”

“Why the hell did you not alert me?”

“There was no need.”

Keith threw his head back, “Are you serious right now?” he asked you, “This is the freaking Winter Soldier we’re talking about, you’re not supposed to take any chances! For God’s sake, I live next door for a reason!”

“My cover wasn’t blown,” you insisted, “If you or the team got here, all this would’ve been for nothing. I handled it.”

He crossed his arms, “Still an unnecessary risk to take,” he insisted, “Anything could’ve happened, Y/N. You’ve read his file.”

You nodded, “I handled it,” you said, “You should go by the way. You’re going to be late, the General hates that.”

“Do you want me to say anything to him?”

You thought for a moment and shook your head.

“No,” you said, “Good luck.”

“We will talk about this when I came back.” he pointed at you and left your apartment. You took a look at the teddy bear, then grabbed your phone to touch Chloe’s name.

“Hey there!” she answered on the first ring, “How was the funfair?”

“It was good,” you said, “Listen, I need you to make sure my background is solid.”

“What?” she asked, “It is, I made sure of that—“

“Bucky found my gun,” you said, “Earlier.”

She took in a sharp breath, “God damn it.”

“No it’s fine, I came up with this story of buying it from a shop after the mugging, but…”

“You need a document just in case,” she completed your sentence, “Got it. Do you think he would check?”

“No,” you said, “But Wilson might, he and Bucky are pretty close. It would be much harder to trick him.”

“Got it,” she said, “I’ll get the document ready, maybe some footage… And I’ll go over your social media just in case.”

“Great.”

“But are you okay?”

You paused only for a moment,

“Sure,” you said, “I’m fine, I handled it. It’s all going according to plan.”

“Alright,” she said, “I’d better get to it. Be careful!”

“You too,” you said and hung up, then went to the kitchen to grab a couple of knives before going back to the living room.

“Sorry about this Bucky number two,” you murmured as you turned it around, stuck the knife into it and started ripping it, “But you really would make a good place to hide weapons.”

Chapter 16

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #the falcon and the winter soldier #tfatws #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you

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eliemo · 3 years

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Love Our Way

Summary: Virgil knew he should have said something right there. But he didn’t, because he knew that would be the end.

Notes: Ace Virgil fic with romantic LAMP

TWs: Mentions of sex but no details. A little bit of internalized acephobia but barely, Virgil just has negative self esteem.

They’d been together a few months now and it had been, without a doubt, the best few months of Virgil’s life.

It’d been a bit nerve wracking in the beginning, those first couple of weeks, as excited and thrilled as he was, Virgil had been extra paranoid about doing something wrong, about giving them any reason to lose feelings for him.

He honestly hadn’t thought it could work at first. Relationships rarely worked out with two people, let alone four. Eventually they would fight, or lose feelings, or decide it was all too complicated. And things would get awkward and they could all end up hating each other and who knew what it would do to Thomas if they could no longer stand to be in the same room—

But they didn’t. By some miracle, that never happened.

Things were...things were perfect, as scared as Virgil had been to use the word. They’d been amazing ever since the anxious side was allowed to join their family, the love and warmth a wonderful kind of overwhelming he’d never felt before, but actually dating the people he loved more than anything, no longer needing to be afraid to express his feelings…

It was more than he’d ever thought he would get. More than he ever thought could be possible. Sometimes he still couldn’t believe it was real.

They fit together like puzzle pieces, making each other stronger, pushing each other to be better, gentle and encouraging, coexisting in peaceful harmony.

Virgil had never felt so welcomed, so surrounded by unconditional support and affection. They showed him just how much he had to offer. For the first time he’d actually felt like he wasn’t just a burden.

It was hard, especially when it took a while to convince himself that he wasn’t invited into the relationship out of convenience, but because they actually wanted him.

But they loved him. He knew that now. They all loved each other, flaws and all.

And, well...Virgil should have known it wouldn't last forever.

Not for him. Because...because that was just the way things were, wasn’t it? He’d made progress, he wasn’t the bad guy anymore, but he was still Anxiety. Things were just destined to go wrong.

He really hadn’t given a single thought. It never crossed his mind as something that could ever be a problem, even when they had initially gotten together. No one else seemed intent on bringing it up, so Virgil had figured they never would.

But then it had. Logan had brought the topic up about a week ago, somewhat awkward but still painfully casual, the conversation simply to discuss everyone’s level of comfort when it came to intimacy.

Which...yeah, Virgil guessed it made sense. They were dating, the four of them happy and comfortable with their relationship, and had been for months now. So obviously sex was going to get brought up eventually. Boundaries needed to be set before...anything actually happened. It was routine for a healthy relationship.

Except Virgil hadn’t actually thought they would ever talk about it. Because he’d known for a long time that he was asexual and he’d just...kind of assumed the others were too.

Which in retrospect, was a stupid conclusion to jump to.

Virgil had known for years now, long before befriending the others. It had taken him a while to be sure, lots of research and panic and overthinking, but he’d eventually grown comfortable with the label. It was just another part of who he was.

But he’d also never really understood why. Thomas wasn’t asexual so it didn’t make any sense for Virgil to have a separate identity.

Unless it was just something all the sides experienced, none of them able to feel that kind of attraction.

But he’d never actually gotten around to asking. No one brought it up, and before the...development in their relationship it never seemed like something that would be an issue. So he’d just assumed, and ran with it.

But clearly that wasn’t the case. Not when Roman and Patton were responding to Logan’s question with varying levels of eagerness and approval, comfortable and willing to take the next step when they were all ready.

And Virgil knew he should have said something right there. They had given him the perfect opportunity to come out, quick and easy, and avoid anything uncomfortable in the future.

But he didn’t. Because...because that would be the end, wouldn’t it?

They would be sweet about it, of course. Thank him for being honest. But if he was the only one who didn’t want that...well, what was the point of him being a part of things?

It was a cruel thing to assume, he knew that. None of them were shallow enough to see sex as something necessary, and he knew they would never force him into anything.

But...but he already offered so little. They already had to jump through so many hoops to accommodate his anxiety, and it wasn’t like he was particularly loving or good at romance, as hard as he tried. As loving and amazing as they were, this could simply be the final straw.

He wanted to be with them. He wanted them in every other way. He loved them more than anything. But he wouldn’t fight it when they ended up distancing themselves from him.

Virgil just wasn’t ready for that heartbreak yet. So he plastered on a fake smile, and nodded along with the others.

He’d tell them tomorrow. The longer he waited, the worse it would be.

“Movie night!” Patton declared, skipping into the living room where Virgil was scrolling aimlessly on his phone. “And don’t think you’re getting out of it this time, Virge!”

Virgil tried to ignore the way his stomach twisted at the phrasing, swallowing against rising panic and sending Patton a smile. It was just movie night, same as every Friday.

It had been two weeks now, and he still hadn’t told them. He’d managed to avoid last week’s movie night with the excuse of an upset stomach, desperately trying not to think about what they could be doing without him.

And now...now he’d have to tell. They’d already be upset he waited this long, he couldn’t put it off any longer.

Besides, they’d all be in the same bed all night, as they often were, relaxed and happy and enjoying each other’s company. They wouldn’t ever force him into something he wasn’t comfortable with, even if they wanted nothing to do with him after he came out.

He’d lied, after all. He should have told them right away.

“I'll be right there,” he said, forcing a smile as Patton made his way upstairs to his bedroom where the others were likely waiting. “Just...give me a second.”

This was it, then. Hopefully afterwards, it wouldn’t be too awkward. Hopefully they would still be willing to keep him around as a friend.

They were all waiting for him by the time he made it to Roman’s room, the three of them sprawled out on the bed in a pile of laughs and smiles, and Virgil’s heart felt like it was trying to break through his chest.

He loved them so much. He wanted nothing more than to forget all of this and be held in their arms, content and warm until the sun came up.

But putting it off wasn’t fair to them. And it wasn’t fair to him either.

“Virgil!” Roman exclaimed, and Virgil felt lightheaded at the fond, excited looks he was being given. “Come help us choose a movie!”

He almost chickened out again, just for a second. But he couldn’t panic. Not until it was out in the open and he could deal with the consequences.

After tonight, he could very well end up alone again. Isolated like a villain.

Why did he have to keep turning out to be different? Why was he always meant to end up alone?

“In a second,” he said, stopping just inside the doorway. “I...I need to say something first, if that’s ok.”

Their smiles dropped slightly, but their gentle, welcoming expressions never wavered. The three of them sat up in bed, scooting forward as Patton nodded.

“Of course, honey,” he said. “What’s on your mind?”

He was actually doing this. He just...had to figure out how to start.

Virgil took a breath and stuffed his hands in his pockets to hide how they’d begun to shake. “Just to- just to get it out there to make it easier for you guys...I- I get it if you want to break up with me after this.”

That got their attention, their heads snapping up with wide, wary eyes. Virgil couldn’t quite bring himself to look at them anymore.

“I’m just saying,” he muttered, and god he was shaking so bad. “I’ll understand.”

The silence only stretched on another few seconds before Logan cleared his throat. “We’re listening, Virgil.”

Ok. Ok he could do this. He...really should have planned out what he was going to say first.

“I should have told you right away,” he started. “I know I should have. It’s not fair to you guys and I’m...I’m really sorry that I didn’t. I wasn’t trying to...to lie or- or lead you on or anything, I just...love you guys. A lot. I’ve loved being with you and I wasn’t ready to...you know...ruin that.”

“Virge? What...what did you do, darling?”

It was passed off as a joke, the Prince forcing a small smile, but there was serious concern behind it.

Virgil quickly shook his head. “It’s not...I didn’t realize that it would be, you know, an issue. But you guys want...you want someone who’s not...me. Because- because I’m…”

Say it, just say it.

“I’m asexual. And you guys...I shouldn’t have kept that from you. I’m sorry. I’m just...sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

And that was...it. That was it. They knew now.

They knew, and they could react how they wanted. If they were angry, Virgil wouldn’t blame him. If they were disgusted and demanded he leave...Virgil wouldn’t fight it, no matter how badly it hurt.

He knew them better than to truly assume that would be the case, but the thought was still there.

Furious or not, there was no way they’d trust him enough to keep him in the relationship.

But he had to hold it together until the end of the conversation. He’d escape as soon as they let him, and then...and then he’d readjust to being alone.

Unfortunately, none of them seemed particularly inclined to answer, the silence stretching on a moment too long. He risked a glance up from the floor, hunching his shoulders when he caught Logan’s eye.

“Virgil,” the logical side said. “Come sit down, please.”

He quickly shook his head, taking a step back. He didn’t need a long, drawn out ending to this. He wouldn’t be able to hold it together that long.

“You...you guys don’t have to--”

“Virgil,” Patton cut him off, scooting aside to make room. “Come over here and talk to us.”

And he’d never be able to deny Patton anything, would he? Not when he sounded so desperate.

Virgil moved forward on shaky legs, focusing solely on his breathing to keep himself from crying, ending up seated in between Patton and Logan, Roman pressed up against the moral side.

“This doesn’t need to be a conversation,” he said, just wanting to get out. “I...I said I would understand.”

Virgil jumped when there was a hand against his cheek, Logan suddenly cupping his jaw and turning his head until they were face to face, the logical side’s eyes piercing behind his glasses.

“Virgil,” Logan started, sounding almost breathless. “How...on earth could you think this would end in a break up?”

Virgil blinked, wondering if this was some kind of trick question. “What? I don’t--”

“Darling,” Roman said, and the Prince was suddenly scooting over to sit in front of Virgil, the three of them surrounding him. “You thought we would leave if you came out as Ace?”

Virgil shook his head because no, that...that wasn’t the problem. Not entirely, anyway. “It’s not...guys I lied. You asked me to be in a relationship with you and I didn’t say anything.”

“You did not lie,” Logan said, never dropping his hand from Virgil’s face. “You just were not ready to come out yet. You and I both know there is a substantial difference.”

There was a hand suddenly slipping into his own, and Virgil startled when he realized it was Patton’s, the moral side’s free hand now running fingers through his hair.

“You weren’t comfortable sharing that part of yourself,” he said. “That’s totally ok, sweetheart. No one’s mad at you. I’m just glad you said something before something...happened.”

Logan’s hand suddenly dropped, his eyes big and painfully worried, and Virgil had to force himself not to look away.

“Virgil,” he said slowly. “You do not...owe us anything. Especially not something like sex. If we made you feel like--”

“What? Jesus- no.” Virgil moved his hand away from Patton, pulling his knees up to his chest, squeezing his eyes shut to try to get a hold of himself. “It wasn’t...I just thought...it would be too...t-too much to deal with, you know?”

They weren’t breaking up with him. They weren’t. He’d been stupid to think that. There was no reason he should still be so upset.

He couldn’t make them feel guilty. He couldn’t make them think they’d been the ones to do something wrong when they’d been nothing but perfect. He couldn’t--

“Oh Virgil.”

Too late he realized the tears had started to spill over, his face burning as he pressed a hand against his mouth to try and muffle any treacherous sobs.

There was a pair of arms around him, warm and grounding, and it took Virgil a moment to realize it was Roman, gently guiding him into the embrace. He didn’t fight it, falling limp against the Prince’s chest with a pathetic choking noise.

“S-sorry,” he managed in between sobs. “I’m sorry, I- I don’t know why I’m...I sh-should have told you, I- I thought you’d...I thought you’d run out of reasons to- to want me.”

“We could never,” Roman whispered, holding him tight. Patton moved forward to rub circles along his back, Logan reaching out to squeeze his hand. “You’re beautiful, Virgil. And this doesn’t change a thing.”

It didn’t make sense. None of it made any sense. If one of them had come out, it would be different. But with him...there was already so much to deal with, so much they were forced to handle.

Eventually, it had to get to be too much, right? He’d already figured they’d get fed up with the extra steps they had to take to respect his boundaries, Virgil always a little more wary when it came to being vulnerable.

But they all sounded so...genuine. Princey hadn’t once loosened his hold, still whispering quiet reassurances, Patton was back to running his fingers through Virgil’s hair, pressing kisses to his free hand.

And Logan still held on tight, counting out familiar breathing exercises just loud enough for Virgil to hear, always knowing how to calm him down.

When he finally managed to calm down, taking in deep, shuddering breaths, he reluctantly pulled away from Roman, wiping at his eyes as he stared down at his lap.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “I never thought...I wouldn’t have let you guys do anything. I was always gonna tell you eventually I just...kept putting it off.”

“That is quite alright,” Logan said, sounding oddly hesitant. “But I...don’t think I could forgive myself if we had taken the next step without realizing you would not enjoy it.”

Virgil nodded, forcefully pushing down the sickening panic at the thought. “I know. I wouldn’t have let that happen. I promise.”

Patton and Logan both squeezed his hands, Patton tilting forward to press a kiss to his temple before leaning his forehead on Virgil’s shoulder. He allowed himself to lean into the touch, taking another shaky breath before continuing.

“I’m...I am sorry though. If this complicates things.”

Roman cocked his head slightly, frowning. “Complicates things?”

“Yeah,” Virgil said, hoping he wasn’t about to refute every wonderful thing that had just been said. “We’re...in a relationship. And you all want...I mean, Roman you’re pretty much all romance, so I know you want--”

He cut himself off, caught completely off guard when Roman started laughing.

“Sorry,” the Prince said quickly, smiling at the exasperated looks Virgil realized the others were giving him. “Sorry, I just...gosh, Virgil can I kiss you?”

Virgil blinked, mind suddenly completely blank. “I...uh, sure?”

True to his word, Roman was suddenly cupping Virgil’s face in both his hands, gently pressing their lips together, and just like always Virgil melted against the touch, completely safe for just a single, blissful moment.

When Roman pulled back, he met Virgil’s gaze, brimming with nothing but adoration and love. “Virgil, darling, you really think I see something as trivial as sex romantic?”

“I mean...yeah?”

“Virgil, I love you. You, not...not what you have to offer. I love seeing you in the mornings, and holding you...I love hearing your voice. I want to cook you dinners and pick you flowers and sing for you. That’s romantic, Virge. Not...not something as small as sex. That’s not what’s important. Not to me.”

“I, for once, am in agreement with Roman,” Logan said. “Sexual intimacy has never been of importance to me. It certainly does not hold enough power to damage our relationship in any way if you do not desire it. And it certainly has no power over my feelings for you.”

Virgil was suddenly dangerously close to crying again. “I--”

“Besides, there is no logical reason for us to engage in sexual intercourse. We are not human, so the need to reproduce does not--”

Roman thankfully cut him off with a kiss, Logan making a noise somewhere between surprise and annoyance, but reciprocated without further complaint.

Patton was suddenly taking both of Virgil’s hands, their fingers laced together, and Virgil suddenly wasn't quite so scared to meet the moral side’s eyes.

“I don’t care about something silly like that,” Patton said. “I just care about you, honey. The four of us being safe and happy and together. If we all just cuddle and tell each other how much we love each other...nothing else could ever make me that happy. So don’t you worry about a thing, ok?”

Virgil wasn’t sure whether he laughed or sobbed, but he was smiling back at Patton, at the people who surrounded him with unconditional love, and he nodded.

“Ok,” he agreed, feeling lighter than he thought he ever had. “Thank you. All of you. I...I love you all. So much.”

Within moments they were all tangled up in each other, the television playing an old comfort movie, Virgil wrapped up in Logan’s arms with his head against Roman’s chest, Patton leaned against his legs.

It was still perfect, and Virgil had a funny feeling it always would be. He loved them, more than anything in the entire world, and there wasn’t a doubt in his mind they felt the same way.

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incorrect-ikevamp-quotes · 3 years

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im not very sure if you're doing abcs for the trio but if u do could u pls maybe do C N O and S for vlad? <3

No worries! I don't see why not, my knowledge is just a little more limited for them is all~

Hope you enjoy these, lovely! ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Aight y’all it’s time for me to put on my clown shoes as god intended

Though man, what a delightfully rainy day today to write =v=

Fluff ABCs Template here

Cuddling -- How does he like to cuddle?

He is a simple man, with simple needs.

That being said, I think he’s one for a lot of gentle affection. Despite appearances–I mean hell, he literally wears a necklace of thorns–he’s actually a very tender lover. Loves hand-holding, scooting close under umbrellas, making shapes out of the little beauty marks that dot her skin. He will take any excuse to hold her and run with it.

Ideally, I think he prefers privacy above all else, most typically in his room in the castle. This side of him, so soft with his love for her, belongs to her and her alone. He refuses to let anyone else kill his immersion the moment (cue Charles dragging Faust away from doing something disruptive and stupid), or indulge in the sight of her so rosy-cheeked and loving. Loves dropping little kisses to the crown of her head, her shoulders, the backs of her hands. He’s waited so many long years to be able to hold her close like this, to feel the heat of her blush and the tinkle of sweet giggles when he nips and pecks at her pretty skin. All of this, every single second, is beyond value to him…he cherishes each memory close to his heart, crystallized fragments of joy in a life so bereft of it.

His favorite position for cuddling tends to be a kind of side lean. Usually she’ll be lying down (or turned towards him, sometimes) while he’s on his side beside her (usually against a wall or the back of a sofa). He loves that he can gaze at her as much as he likes this way, he really can’t get enough. The person he was searching for all this time, right here, no sign of leaving…

Nightmare -- What is his worst fear?

Oh boyo boy. Oh boy...

Honestly, I really don’t see anything horrifying him as much as losing MC. I don’t think he’s a man above fear. He hates being abandoned, he’s afraid of the world being torn apart by humanity’s indifference.

But nothing compares to the shattering fear of losing MC.

I think he has a very particular intense fear about losing loved ones because of the nature of his life history. He is still deeply affected by his entire clan being wiped out by hunters, leaving him alone to carry the weight of that legacy and loss. While he couldn’t help but give his heart to the woman who saved him, the reality of his terror is undeniable. After so many centuries of searching, after so many years of feeling hollow and alone…Even now, he has never come to terms with the way his family was ripped away from him. To know the gentleness of love again, to finally have a hand to hold only to lose it…

Well, I really can’t imagine the terrifying result of that. I imagine he would be far beyond reason.

Whenever he has bad dreams of the very same fear, he is nigh inconsolable. He holds her very tightly without saying a word (which is unlike him) and she'll know not to let him go for a while. She murmurs calming things, promises of things they'll do together in the future, strokes his hair and rubs his back. They only leave the bed when he's feeling somewhat stabilized again, but even so he'll hold her hand for longer than usual days after. Embraces her more, finds any excuse to hide away.

Oddity -- What is one quirk he has?

I think one part of him that is overlooked is that he is a man very interested in the nature of contradiction, the duality that resides in all things–himself included. Some parts of his preoccupation are more obvious than others. For instance, he loves flowers due to the nature of their ephemeral beauty, but also enjoys trying to preserve them to let their appeal survive. There’s also the fact that flowers can look or smell lovely, but can harbor poisons strong enough to kill grown human beings. (Not unlike him.)

He is a vampire in which the front-end of his operations is a cathedral, and I imagine that was a purposeful move as well. There are so many angles to consider here, namely two obvious ones that come to mind. There is the non-threatening concept of the cathedral: in which people assume it is a safe haven, a place to seek care/assistance/prayer (not entirely so in this case, even if Faust plays priest.) There’s the possibility that vampire hunters are typically supplied by/supported by the church (not sure if this is the case here, but it is a common trope). That would mean Vlad would be using the face of the very human institution that ruined his life to enact revenge, to say nothing of the potential risk of hunters seeking sanctuary only to run into a den of vampires.

There is also wondering whether or not he purposely wears that necklace of thorns ;;;;; (For anyone unaware, there was the whole Jesus wearing a crown of thorns specifically as an extension of humiliation, branding him the “fake king" of the Jewish people.) My contention here would be that he is basically saying “lmao, I’m your suffering saint now.” Or maybe he’s just really into masochistic jewelry, I have no idea.

He appears to have a kind of obsession with subverting norms/conventional expectations, and I have to wonder if it runs with his general underdog theme…

Secrets -- How open is he with her?

Despite his generally guarded nature, with MC he is entirely transparent when they’re in a relationship. Unless he doesn’t want to scare her or simply feels something would be best shared at a later time, he makes no real attempt to hide anything from her. If she asks and he knows the answer, he’ll spill.

(Okay but sometimes it gets hilarious, because say Faust has been trying for years to get info out of him about some stupidly specific thing. And Vlad is always very evasive, dances out of reach, plain ignores him. MC asks and he’s just like “oh yeah, in 1582 I remember–” It’s a wonder Faust never throws hands about it, pisses him off so much LMFAO)

Before their relationship was established he hesitated more, largely because the nature of his existence and his ties to her were a lot to take in at the time. I think he prefers not to overwhelm her whenever possible. It’s very much a kind of “I won’t info drop on you thoughtlessly, but if you ask me a question I’ll do my best to answer with the truth.”

#ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp vlad #ikevamp fluff #ikevamp headcanons #ikevamp fluff headcanons #sometimes your honor he is babie #please enjoy giant scary babie man #no matter how old i get these type of characters never cease to be funny to me #he just barks at p much everyone but MC LMFAO #anywho i hope you enjoyed these!!! and that i answered to satisfaction úwù <3333 #requests are still open #asks #rambles #not incorrect quotes

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uwua3 · 4 years

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Hi Bunnie! Your Misumi jealousy headcanon was so so amazing! Would it be okay to request the same hc but for Kazu, Tenma + Taichi? Ty and can't wait to see more from you! 🐰

oh my gosh! thank you so much!!! that makes me so happy to hear you enjoyed it; tbh i was a bit nervous due to the different take on misumi’s more thoughtful, erratic side so i’m glad it wasn’t too ooc! for you, i’d love to do a jealous hc for kazunari, tenma, and taichi! let’s GOOO !!!

summary: everyone gets their heart broken, and you were the cause of their broken hearts

warnings: anxiety, cheating, fake/toxic relationships, heartbreak, unrequited love

author’s note: i hope you enjoy it! thank you so much for your support ♡ this is definitely on the longer side for sure, i hope it’s worth the read!!!

i explored different types of jealousy for each person and how it would affect their daily lives! sometimes, the best thing to do is not act on your impulses. is it really worth losing a relationship with someone over? arguably, the only person with a “happy ending” would be taichi~ fair warning!

word count: 4,799 (total) — 2,078 (kazunari), 1,616 (tenma), 1,105 (taichi)

music: ghost heart – closure (kazunari), shouldn’t couldn’t wouldn’t – niki, rich brian (tenma), needs – verzache (taichi)

jealousy (pt.1)

🌻🎨 miyoshi kazunari

it was so hard to always thrive off the attention of others when it was exhausting keeping a smile up

sure, kazunari was a burden when he was excited with his nonstop, loud rant about whatever he learned in his liberal arts university... but people seemed to like him even less when he was quiet and contemplative. he was the butt of the joke, so he had to fake it until he made it

he’d rather be the funny jokester of the group and be remembered as the tolerated clown than forgotten completely

kazunari wanted people to come to him, be his friend, and find him important in their life. kazunari wanted to be everyone’s favorite, the #1, the name you’d say when asked who your best friend was

but no one liked him like that. no one looked to him first when a joke was made to check if he was laughing, everyone assumed he was. but it was so much energy to keep this happy go lucky act and it began taking away from his art

envy made up every cell of his being as he saw groups of supportive friends, students congratulated in front of the class, and just happiness in general. kazunari was always jealous, he wanted so much. he wanted someone to be his best friend

and then, you aced the role with no auditions needed. you made the cut, you entered his life as kazunari’s best friend

you made an effort to include him in group activities, responded to his over–the–top DMs with too many emojis, and even amused him with his spontaneous ideas like road trips to the next town over for the hell of it

it didn’t matter if he called you at the crack of dawn, you picked up before the last ring with just as much enthusiasm to go wherever to make lifelong memories

kazunari didn’t have to pretend like he was full of energy around you, because he was! you charged him up to his full battery and he wouldn’t stop moving until he had you to himself for a few hours

at first, it started out by staying a little bit longer after group project meetings, offering to get absolutely buzzed on overpriced hipster coffee he had to perfect as a barista, and exchanging obvious notes in class while getting in trouble for snickering way too loud

then it became seeing premieres of movies kazunari honestly didn’t care about, he just wanted to do the yawn trick without getting made fun of. he liked dramatically fighting over the popcorn with you before pretending to give up, knowing damn well at the end he’d let you have all his snacks. movies became any event possible: single mixers that were just them huddling in a corner planning to make the most memorable exit ever, mall trips that had inappropiate fashion shows in the dressing rooms before getting kicked out, even beach visits year–round and complaining when the temperatures were too extreme but still having the sickest bonfire

all these moments were posted on his private, more personal instagram where his feed would have your face in every row (he also posted the extremely candid shots of you, he was sneaky with his camerawork). everyone with a social media account knew you guys were platonic soulmates, people destined to meet each other and be by their side for every lifetime

it moved into territory like bringing you to his favorite secret hideouts. eventually, it came down to places he knew his other friends would trash and poke fun at. he began trusting you with his most prized places. his safe space that became yours as well

even his art studio rented out at the border of the urban city with a water–damaged wooden floor. you would drop by everytime he didn’t respond to your text within 10 minutes, with plenty of food because you knew kazunari gets into an obsessive state with completing a project in one sitting. he let you in without a second thought even though you had the spare key; now you were lounging upon a thrifted sofa staring at the sunset

golden hour was gorgeous on you, kazunari thought out of no where, shocking him to the core when he nearly dropped his paintbrush onto the plastic covers. get a hold of yourself man! whatever, he always hyped you up, it wasn’t a big deal. it was just usually, intentional

you didn’t seem to notice, scrolling through your phone as your shadow giggled at something on screen. kazunari felt sick (and it wasn’t the cheap takeout), he hated not being in on the joke and getting left out. jealousy brewed at the pit of his stomach as he faked a childish huff to get your attention. you didn’t look over, too busy sending a meme to someone

“whatchu laughing at?” kazunari asked curiously as he resumed painting, to which you fidgeted under his gaze. shrugging nonchalantly, you pocketed your phone that pinged with a notification. the vibration caused you to read the screen immediately without a second thought. huh...

“just some guy.” you offhandedly mentioned, opening some dating app kazunari could pinpoint. he didn’t know you even liked those types of meet–ups, he dropped his brush this time before fumbling to pick it up as cool as possible

pretending to pay attention to the painting, he lost focus as he glanced at your frame. you looked so relaxed, so casual, who were you so close to? you always told him about the few partners you had, this one threw him for a loop

“guy? don’t tell me my best friend is falling in love~!” kazunari quipped, feigning a pose of shock like it was the worst thing he’s ever heard. honestly, maybe it was, or he was a damn good actor and those hours of practice were working. maybe they were if his best friend couldn’t even see past his facade

you blushed at the implication, but didn’t deny it. you just muttered something about having privacy and rolling over to your side, continuing to text at an inhuman speed

kazunari frowned slightly, drawing his eyebrows together as he couldn’t help but steal glances at your backside. usually he got a joke, a confirmation he was basically your boyfriend, and they both hysterically laughed about it at the end of the day. not this time, apparently

this time, it was different. next time he saw you wasn’t sitting next to him in class, or beneath his arm hiding from the scary film on the projector, it was at the café you frequented to see him. except, you were with someone else. kazunari hadn’t seen you in so long, ever since you were caught messaging someone else

you ordered the same thing as always, you didn’t even have to ask before kazunari had it ready for you. but his whole personality was jittery, like he accidentally ate the entire stock of cacao beans raw. he stammered and his tone fell flat, contrasting his lively speech and flair for drama. he looked... overwhelmed

kazunari spilt your date’s drink last second, his chaotic mind barely controlling his limbs as he knocked over the order. as you tried helping him, every customer saw kazunari hide back in the shell he tried so hard to break. he simply shook his head and delivered his customer service monologue about being very sorry and the next one was on the house

there was at least in attempt in sounding cheerful, but coach would’ve definitely cursed him out for his terrible performance. he knew he was showing too much teeth right now and his eyes were too big to be genuine, but he couldn’t do anything else without his foot tapping repetitively

when you shot him concerned side–eyes from their usual table by the window, you looked different in the orange–hued sky. you were gorgeous in golden hour, kazunari bitterly thought as he wiped down the surfaces until he could see his teary eyes staring back with disgust. he was letting his guard down in front of everyone, how lame

he could hear your walls coming down, you becoming attached to the hip with that date of yours as you two became the only customers left. he heard it all, the flirting, the conversations that would definitely lead to you going back to their place with them. he excused himself to his indifferent manager before hiding in the employee stall, sliding his back down against the wall to sit down on the cold tile floor

kazunari found dates boring. all they led to was him getting his unfinished meal in styrofoam boxes and taking an uber to your place to spill what happened like it was a daily struggle. you laughed and laughed, never having stories of your own since kazunari lived through a lifetime of them for the tall tales

kazunari wanted to go back to that, when both of you were single and laughing together about how absolutely dumb committed relationships were. who else would they need besides each other? kazunari remembered asking, knowing all they could trust in was each other forever

but more importantly, maybe kazunari wanted to be more than your best friend. you were the one who cured his constant artist’s blocks with just words of affirmation, the heartfelt gestures making his serotonin levels skyrocket to oblivion before maxing out on the motivation to create anything that would make your efforts worth it

kazunari thought he just did his best with his friends by his side. but, was it normal for friends to feel like this? kazunari began imagining a painting of a figure, of someone that looked like you, except they were so far away and out of his reach. he wanted to jump through the frame and find you, manifest you for him only

no matter what he did, he couldn’t get the face to resemble anything like yours, like you weren’t his to claim creative rights over anymore

kazunari was jealous. jealous of how easily passerbys fell in love with the way you made anyone feel like they were the main character of their own story. kazunari felt stupid, like he was your comic relief sidekick who so desperately would do anything to be your final love interest

alone, kazunari laughed pitifully to himself as he picked his head up to hear your voice through the thin walls. whatever elaborate joke you were playing on him, it wasn’t funny in the slightest

he only wanted you to laugh with him, hell, he’d go make a fool of himself at any time even if meant you laughed at him

you weren’t one of his artworks, yet you were a masterpiece compared to any canvas he could have made in his entire career

kazunari wanted to paint you in all the colors possible, make you see how you were the rainbow after his rainy life

pushing himself up, kazunari stumbled out of the bathroom before shaking his head. it wasn’t worth it, he got what he wanted, didn’t he? you’re still his best friend, you just loved someone else, that’s all. all he ever wanted was a best friend, why wasn’t he satisfied with that?

when would he stop being jealous? (when would he be your #1 boy? he thought against his will)

taking a deep breath to compose himself, kazunari smiled and waved at the new couple. he saw the relief on your face before you resumed the discussion with the most animated expression he hadn’t seen in a long time. he couldn’t even recall when

everything would go back to normal before you became kazunari’s best friend. you would begin hanging out with the other person more, taking them to all kazunari’s best events. you would eventually stop answering his calls because it interfered with the other person’s schedule. you’d have plans outside of him, and kazunari would go back to being by himself. he’d keep going on dates and stay till the end this time, searching for his #1

(he would have to mute your account after seeing your posts with them, but he never told you that)

kazunari heard something other than you. he looked towards the window: it was raining again, again, and again. he opened his smartphone to take a picture:

kaz–PIKO [new post!]: i hope this rain ends soon!!!

it didn’t, at least, not for a very long time

🌻☀️ sumeragi tenma

tenma was what you would call, gifted. grew up with successful, charistmatic parents who watched his every move like a hawk, never giving him the time to improve from his mistakes

so every time he didn’t immediately get something, he’d give up and find other things to beat others at

the only thing he did that was acceptable to his father was acting, so he never looked back

tenma became a headliner of countless blockbuster movies and walked the red carpet as a fabricated actor with no authenticity

magazines labelled tenma as the playboy with on & off again relationships, although they were staged by his label to make him appear like some heartbreaker

truth was, he’s just like every other high school student who was really bad at focusing on academics (and had definitely not been in a real relationship)

but tenma was famous, fake friends came and went every time his popularity rose, hitting him up for favors. it was okay, he was famous, anyways. it’s not like he needed a bunch of no–bodies

at least, that’s what he told himself every time he sat with his parents at awards banquets with no one to share his success

(tenma was not jealous at all of stars with full rows of people of their friends who were always so loud and supportive)

(it wasn’t awkward going up on stage to receive a trophy with only polite clapping in the background)

you got cast as tenma’s next love interest

you were supposed to be a fake relationship that lasted longer than every other person he’s been with before

you were an up and coming actress full of potential and enthusiasm to boot, ready to take on in the industry like you were the biggest threat around

but it was clear, you loved acting

you loved playing different characters like they were an extension of yourself, paying close attention to other people’s habits so you could incorporate it in your own persona

it was strange—meeting someone who loved acting at its core and didn’t do it for the money. most people wanted their name in lights, drama with them in the middle, to have an adoring fanbase. who actually liked acting as an art form?

tenma was sure you were just hiding something, lying about your sweetheart public image to gain fans

you and tenma became public by having a public brunch date (tenma hated brunch, it was so pointless!) where photographers hid in bushes to take expensive pictures of tenma’s newest girl

tenma at first put on a facade, pretending to be the cocky star everyone made him out to be by flexing his muscles with a charming but practiced wink. why not, right? every girl loved that!

all of a sudden, you were gripping the tablecloth, dying laughing as you tried your best to stifle your outrageous response. tenma grew hot under the collar when it was clear you were very much a real, hard to hide your feelings type person off screen

immediately, he told you off in an aggressive manner but before he could apologize for being so suddenly boyish, you retorted back just as quickly. the friendly banter between you two sent sparks flying from the electric energy

those staged acts didn’t have any effect on you (unless he was in the mood for some serious jokes which he gladly fought back) so a genuine friendship formed

due to you both being competitive at heart, you guys were always caught in a friendly rivalry where you two shared real bonding moments together

your chemistry was off the charts (your managers were both very pleased with the outcome, oblivious to tenma’s defensive no ways!)

tenma’s favorite memory was ditching a panel interview without his parent’s permission to go blow his money on a popular chain arcade im the mall he could most definitely afford with his credit card. it was impulse but he texted you the address and miracously, you showed up on your own

both of you wore the worst disguises possible: snapbacks and funky graphic tee shirts as if you two were just regular students. tenma tried everything that even caught his eye, and you knew he wasn’t entirely happy with anything he got despite winning ten games already

clearly he wasn’t getting distracted enough, something must have happened on set

so you made a bet, whoever won the basketball hoops game would take all the tickets. you knew this would ignite the competitive flame within tenma

“you’re on!” tenma declared, shaking your hand with a firm grip and wolfish grin. that would be one of the last times tenma saw you as “one of the boys”

it was when you finally won against his bruised ego but chose a prize for him that tenma realized, he liked you for you. normally, he’d be showering his fake partner with stuffed animals before being ditched on the street corner, the plastered smiles gone and replaced with nasty annoyance

(he’d never admit it, but even the fake affection was nice while it lasted)

no one really liked him for him, he was just another famous teen actor with passable looks to be the side boyfriend

yet, you still got him something despite winning, giving him the plant and ignoring his surprised face

it wasn’t expensive, but it was the most meaningful gift he’s ever received

it was the first time tenma was given a present like that: a tiny bonsai tree

“maybe that’ll teach you some responsibility!” you joked, pushing him teasingly as he just stared at the little tree, feeling like something inside grew as well

he ignored it by challenging you to a DDR tournament (you won, again)

tenma began seeing the bonsai as a symbol of your friendship with him, and it felt good to finally have someone who would go out of their way to be his friend

(as a result, the bonsai was as healthy as ever)

but maybe, his macho–man act turned you off the wrong way and made him seem like a spoiled rich kid. you never could open up seriously about problems you had without laughing at tenma’s serious face, always messing up his bright orange hair and calling him a loser

tenma was tired of being a kid in your eyes, he wanted to be your manly boyfriend that wasn’t just a legacy actor

he was jealous every time you talked about your actual friends from home, who you shared everything with and made them out like they were the best people on the planet

it was silly, but did you think about him like that? did your friends even know you were with him?

tenma, for the first time, wanted a relationship that was more than just a publicity stunt. he wanted to be your boyfriend, more than just the faker

he wanted to meet your friends, then your family, and learn more about who you actually were. know what you were made up of, past the glamarous movie lifestyle he knew too well

tenma wanted to stop lying to the media because you deserved the truth

tenma wanted to recite his script about love but mean it, pretending like he was staring into your eyes and delivering the best performance of his life (if you ignore the fact he almost said your name)

but every time you guys went out, you acted like you were a babysitter and tenma was a child. you never could see him as a potential partner, just a rival who reacted like a brother would

but you read his behavior all wrong

(though honestly, tenma took every opportunity possible to have you close, because he knew you’d never be his again)

by the time the contract was up, tenma was too late. you were ruffling his hair and smiling like a sibling would, commenting on how fun it was to be with him and he could call you up anytime for tutoring. to you, he was just some high schooler who needed you to study with

but to tenma, he had caught feelings and there was nothing he could do about it

tenma would soon see the tragic news titles of how japan’s favorite it–couple split and you moved onto someone else

(someone much more serious and cool than he was, unfortunately)

tenma began booking roles in much more different films, ones with much more somber tones and melancholy scenes that fit his jealousy perfectly (he was often reviewed as having a “real connection” to his character, like he lived through the pain)

tenma noticed the way you were around the same age as your idol partner, how you actually held his hand while blushing for once. you even kissed them and hugged them in front of the cameras, which you refused to do with tenma, saying it would be weird to kiss a kid

tenma was jealous. jealous how he wasn’t as grown up as you wanted him to be. how he wasn’t mature and had a fiery temper and didn’t think things through. but his next partner was assigned and he had an outing with them soon

as soon as tenma met up with them, he flashed a picture perfect smile and heard the cameras flash behind him. they seemed to like that

his new partner didn’t question a thing as tenma addressed them by your name without noticing

that day, tenma came home to his bonsai dying, despite watering it properly

tenma gave up on you, despite the jealousy. if he wasn’t good at this dating game, there was no need to try anymore

he didn’t return back to that arcade for a while

🍁🛹 nanao taichi

the moment taichi saw you, he was convinced you were the one like every hopeless romantic out there

he was literally blown away. the wind picked up stronger when he saw you and he swore he saw red hearts around you

pretending to skateboard like he was just passing by, he bumped into you on veludo way and pretended like he had no idea where he was going

“sorry! i’m a bit lost... could you help me?” taichi paired it with his puppy eyes and tragic pout, unaware he was a bunny face to face with a wolf in sheep’s clothing

but you recognized him, the famous actor from mankai’s autumn troupe

yet, you pretended to follow his plan, knowing how quickly mankai was regaining its popularity status in theatre

(hey, maybe you’d even get free stuff if you played your cards right)

then began your relationship with taichi, where he was head over skates for you and did everything in his power to make you stay

taichi rearranged his schedule for you, staying up countless hours into the next day just to text you and have every possible moment with you

taichi always reserved you front row seats for every mankai production, sometimes even bringing you backstages despite the warnings from his other members

(they never really liked you, especially not the way you had so much control over taichi)

“taichi... you look tired. are you okay?” omi asked one day, when taichi had been on his phone the entire meal and anxiously fidgeted for a reply

(you sometimes did that just to mess with him a little, by leaving his multiple messages on read) (he hated it)

“me? i’m doing the best i could be!” taichi exclaimed, sneaking a glance at his screen to still see it dark

when omi carefully nodded and turned around, taichi’s posture slouched and the insomnia he was developing just to talk began catching up to his performance

taichi did everything a perfect boyfriend did in plays: wrote you love letters (you never read them), created thoughtful playlists that flowed well (you never listened), even learning new fun talents just to impress you (you never paid attention)

it was never enough to make you see him as more than a key to the theatre industry

to you, taichi was nothing more than a loyal puppy on a leash

taichi didn’t realize how tight his collar was until he was confronted by his troupe members, all who were as serious as it got with them

“what’s up?” taichi offered, faking a grin and suppressing the yawn building in his throat. the bags under his eyes were dark, and his blue eyes were dull. he hadn’t slept in so long. he was low on money for buying too many things. he couldn’t remember the last time he finished a meal

omi exchanged looks with the others, knowing he had to be the one to deliver the news because well, maybe he’d soften the blow a bit better

it must be bad if even juza and banri are not fighting, taichi mused, not really listening until he heard:

“—they’re cheating on you, taichi.”

taichi’s head snapped up, his body becoming rigid from the accusation. his sight landed on a digital image on banri’s phone screen, where you were clearly all over another person

(taichi remebered them, they were your lockscreen. he never questioned it)

(even if he was always jealous of how you hung out with every other friend much more than him, you own boyfriend!)

there was nothing to justify. banri explained how he and juza came upon them at the mall, and he was sorry

(it wasn’t banri’s fault, but he apologized because he was genuinely sorry for all taichi went through)

it’s not like he could say anything, the photo was clear as day! but taichi’s fists were tight by his side and he stood up defiantly

“that’s not true! maybe, that’s just their friend! or family member! i trust them, stop making baseless claims against them!” taichi knew he was making a scene, but it gave him a window to storm out of the front door and run down the sidewalk

“taichi!” he heard, but no one dared followed him. maybe he needed to face it by himself and open his eyes

they’d be back waiting for him at the end of the day when he finally realized he didn’t deserve to be in a toxic situation like this

(taichi did so much to become even better, just so you would like him more... it never worked)

taichi stopped at the park, panting deeply and leaning forward to catch his breath

this couldn’t be possible! he was the perfect boyfriend, right? he did everything for you... what wasn’t enough? when would he be enough?

but the proof was right there. taichi could see you with the same person in the image right in front of him

that’s when it hit. you knew taichi had acting practice right now, he wouldn’t know any better

all the pent–up anger within him exploded, his desperation masking a much more weak, unstable truth: fear of abandonment and the unrequited jealousy of the other person, no matter how much he hated to admit it

taichi was jealous. jealous of how you liked everyone else so much better than him, taichi wanted to be better, for you

but you were gonna leave him, toss him aside like your time together was nothing, like he was nothing

you never loved him, you liked the attention

taichi finally saw the signs, the red flags you were manipulative and knew he was easy enough to twist and break. he opened his eyes and you hadn’t even noticed him

but then, he tried to tell himself maybe he actually liked that, but it sounded hollow and fake even to him

taichi had to say no now

taichi was hurt, but he couldn’t show that to you anymore. you didn’t deserve the privilege having a say in his feelings anymore

walking by and pretending to bump into you, your face didn’t change as you saw him, simply raising an eyebrow in question

“just leave me for somebody else,” taichi humorlessly laughed, staring at the way you felt nothing for him

you stepped onto his heart and broke it, there was nothing else to say. even then, he wish he was the person you loved, even if it killed him

“enjoy yourself.” taichi finished, knowing these would be the last words he would ever say to you before returning back to the dorms

he didn’t look back, not anymore

196 notes · View notes

lunetheaveragefan · 3 years

Text

one day...

Hey, y’all! Finally, here’s chapter 4! Gosh, this has taken me so long! I’m so so so sorry. In other news, I will be going on a hiatus so I can build up some buffer chapters to prevent this from happening again. I’ll post updates on when I’ll be back, but I’m currently thinking it will be sometime around New Year’s or early January. Again, thank you all for reading! It means a lot to me!

A Sander Sides high school AU

Pairing: Prinxiety and some background Logicality

Summary: Virgil is used to being alone. He only has one friend, Logan. But when Logan makes a new friend, things begin to change as two more join their group. Roman, a boisterous theater kid, seems determined to destroy Virgil’s lonely, average life. How much will Virgil’s life change?

Warnings: Remus and Janus mentions; mentions of homophobia and bullying; references of name-calling; swearing. (If there’s anything else, let me know!)

Word Count: 2,660

okay, here’s chapter 4! (Oh, and the bold words/sentences are text messages by the way.)

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CHAPTER FOUR

Roman shuts the door to his car and walks inside the house.

“I’m home!” he cries out. Feet thud on the stairs from the basement as Roman hangs his jacket on the hooks by the door.

“Roman!” a manically shrill voice screams. Sliding across the hardwood floors around the corner comes Remus, Roman’s twin brother. Remus was a…special case. For reasons unknown, he was avidly interested in all things dark or cruel. A horrendously dirty mind and not a drop of innocence accompanied by a twisted love of morbid stories and people made Remus slightly demented, and Remus himself would be the first one to admit it. It was no wonder their parents gave up on him entirely.

The only person who could keep Remus remotely in line was his boyfriend, Janus. Granted, Janus wasn’t the best example of a model kid, but he kept Remus from being too crazy. Roman liked Janus a decent amount and admired him for being able to put up with Remus at all, but there was something slightly off about him. The two only interacted when they needed too, and Roman was fine with that.

“Hey, Remus,” Roman greets. “How are ya?” He feels the need to talk to his brother, show him support, since Remus doesn’t get any from their parents. Although being ignored doesn’t seem to bother Remus much, Roman tries to make an effort.

“Fantastically fantastic!” He twirls in a circle, the tattered ends of his black trench coat flying out behind him. Roman chuckles at his brother’s antics. If only I were that free, he thinks. Before his smile can fade, Roman pastes it back on.

Before either boy can say anything else, Janus walks up the stairs and, without a single questioning glance, takes Remus by the arm.

He must think Roman’s strained smile is due to annoyance because he says, “C’mon, Remus. Let’s go back downstairs and stop bothering your poor brother.” Remus giggles and follows Janus back downstairs, leaving Roman alone. The door shuts and the house goes quiet.

Sighing and finally dropping the fake smile, Roman trudges to his room. He doesn’t mind that Remus gets the entire basement to himself. If they shared so much as a floor of the house, they would probably never stop arguing. Sure, they loved each other, Remus in his own backward way, but that didn’t mean they got along perfectly.

Flopping down on his bed, Roman opens his phone to see a text from Patton.

Sooooo are you happy you came? it reads.

Okay, okay, fine, yes, I’m glad I came, Roman responds. He bites his lip in nervousness before saying, Do you, by chance, have Virgil’s number? I would like to thank him again for helping me.

Patton’s reply is teasing, cheeky, just like a nosy father’s: Are you sure that’s the only reason you want it?

Roman chuckles before rolling his eyes at Patton's antics. Ignoring the question entirely, Roman asks, Do you have it or not?

Sadly, no, I do not. I’m afraid I cannot help your romantic pursuits this time.

Sending Patton the crying-face emoji, Roman rolls over to his back and stares at the ceiling. Maybe Virgil will talk to me tomorrow. It’s a foolish hope, and he knows that. Virgil doesn’t like Roman, and one day of studying together won’t change that.

It’s smart to keep my feelings to myself. He hates me, and I can’t change that. It’s better to admire from afar. That’s the reason for his hesitation, or at least what Roman has convinced himself to believe. Although he’d never admit it, here’s something much deeper. Something he doesn't want to talk about. A fear he’s kept well hidden under his fake, perfect smiles that everyone buys into and the shameless flirting with every attractive person he sees and his bold, fearless stage presence year after year.

A buzz from the phone in his hand jars him out of his stupor. It’s a text from Patton.

I do have Logan’s, if you want to ask him. The text that follows contains a phone number. He hurriedly responds with a ‘thanks’ and copies the number. After making a new contact for Logan, he opens Messages again. The text should only take a few seconds to send, but Roman types his question in a million different ways, varying from borderline desperate to overly professional. Finally, he decides on the most simple one of all.

Hey, it’s Roman. Do you have Virgil’s number by chance? No explanation, no obvious signs of his crush. Straight and to the point. Even though Roman knows it’s the best way to phrase it, he still can’t make himself press send.

What if Logan figures it out? He’s the smartest kid in school, after all. What if he does have it and I text Virgil and he blocks me? What if Logan tells Virgil and they make fun of me? What if it’s a wrong number and the random person makes fun of me for my crush?

“Dammit, Roman, get yourself together,” he mumbles, leaning his head back.

Fed up with his overthinking, Roman hovers his finger above the send button, closes his eyes, and presses down on the screen. Opening his eyes a sliver to make sure it sent, he shuts his phone off and throws it in the corner on a pile of clothes. He knows that if he keeps it next to him, he’ll obsessively check it every five seconds to see if there’s a reply. There’s homework he needs to do, for fuck’s sake.

Pulling his laptop out of his bag and opening his presentation for history, he gets to work. After a while, he forgets completely about the text. Googling the answers and finding pictures and reliable sites to use fills his thoughts, for once leaving no room for Virgil. At 11:30, once he’s done, assignment turned in with 29 minutes to spare, he grabs his phone and turns it on.

There’s a text from Logan.

Yes, I do have Virgil’s contact information. A string of numbers follow. His phone number. Roman’s heart flutters at the thought of being able to text Virgil.

Thanks, Roman responds. After making the second new contact of the night, making Virgil’s name just the heart-eyes emoji, he starts the agonizing process of figuring out what to say.

“Should I just say ‘hi?’” Roman mumbles to himself, biting at his lip. “No, no, no. Then he won’t know who it is and he won’t respond. I could say ‘hi’ and who I am and then ask how he’s doing.” He nods and begins to type it in before deleting it and saying, “No! He’ll think I’m being weird! Roman, remember: he hates you. You can’t screw this up!” He groans in frustration and drops his head to his hands. “Wait, my excuse to Patton was that I wanted to say thanks again! I’ll just use that!” He types in, Hey! This is Roman. Thanks again for helping me with math today.

“Okay, that looks good. Now, Roman, you just have to press send. It’s not that hard. Just do it.” He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Do I really want to do this? It’s just setting myself up for rejection. Yet when he pictures Virgil in his mind, purple hair falling across his face, freckles dotting his cheeks, he knows that it’s worth the risk. Taking one last deep breath, he opens his eyes.

“Oh, shit!” he yells, throwing his phone across the room. Somehow, he’d accidentally sent the message while his eyes were closed. Curse my shaky hands. He meant to send it anyway, but still. Was not expecting it to happen so abruptly. Hands fly up to cover his mouth as he stares at the wall in shock. Roman’s mom comes in, looking concerned.

“Is everything alright, honey?” she asks, jarring Roman out of his distress. He blinks, shakes his head, and smiles crookedly. Quick, Roman, come up with an excuse!

“Uh, I accidentally sent a text to the wrong person,” he half-lies. Please buy it. Please. Luckily, his mom chuckles.

“Okay, sweetie. Get to bed! Don’t want you to do bad in class and play, now do we?” She smiles warmly and shuts the door behind her as she leaves.

Face falling, Roman murmurs, “Yup. Can’t have Golden Boy failing anything. What a tragedy that would be, for me to be less than perfect.” He laughs dryly and stands up to get ready for bed. He eyes his phone as he passes it on his way to his dresser, but resists the overwhelming urge to check it. Virgil’s probably asleep at this time, anyway.

But Roman still can’t get him off his mind.

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

Roman wakes up to the blaring of his alarm. It’s too early for this, he thinks, rolling over and smashing the snooze button. He’s just drifted back off to sleep when the alarm turns back on. Knowing he’ll be late if he snoozes it again, he shoves himself out of bed.

After his shower, he picks up his phone, checking his messages. Scrolling past the notifications the play director sent out about practice, he looks for anything of interest. He’s already passed the message when his brain processes the sender.

He wasn’t hallucinating; there is a text from Virgil. Roman’s face breaks out in a smile and he sits down on the edge of his bed before falling backwards.

it was no problem, Virgil had texted last night. Another text comes in as Roman is reading the one from before.

hey if you wanted to you could come to the cafe again next week. The invitation brings a lightness to his heart. Maybe he doesn't really hate me, he thinks, goofily smiling at the ceiling. Although the idea is uplifting, he tries to shove it down, but the hopeless romantic inside of him won’t listen. Or at least not as much as I thought he did, he compromises. p.s. logan says it’s okay too. i expected him too since he has a big fat crush on patton and you would most likely bring patton with you or patton would bring you

Roman’s jaw drops at the news. Did not see that coming. It only takes a few seconds for Virgil to say, oh shit i probably wasn’t supposed to tell you that. He’s responding when another text pops up.

i never said anything okay?

Roman chuckles and types back, Got it, Mr... Ah dammit I can’t think of a funny nickname for you bc I’m so tired. You got anything?

There’s an awkward moment of nothing when Virgil doesn’t reply. Roman knows that Virgil’s read it; the little words underneath the message say so. Did I say something wrong? Oh, no, he probably thinks I wanted a nickname to make fun of him! He facepalms at his stupidness. Wanting to make things right, Roman frantically tried to come up with what to say, but nothing sounds right. Before he can say anything, Virgil finally replies.

idk i’m not a big fan of nicknames

Remembering all those days when Roman used nicknames for the wrong reason, he winces. I was such a dumbass in middle school.

Oh right. Feeling like he has to say something more, Roman gathers all his courage.

Look I’m sorry about how shitty I was to you in middle school. It’s no excuse but I did it cause I was going through some stuff at home. Course that doesn’t make it right but I figured you’d like to know where I was coming from, he explains. Heart racing, he wonders what Virgil will say. He’s never admitted the reason behind his terrible behavior in middle school to anyone but Patton. Trouble had no place in his life. Everyone expected perfection, so that’s what he had to show.

Lost in his thoughts, Roman didn’t notice Virgil’s reply at first.

oh was all it said. A moment later, another text appeared. are things better? Roman wants to say no, tell him about the pressure, the expectations, the disappointment. There’s something about Virgil that feels trustworthy to Roman. He wants to tell him everything, but he knows he can’t. Because of those expectations. He’s Roman Princeford, popular, theatre prodigy, the king-of-the-school.

So instead, Roman answers with a half-truth, like always. Yeah I guess so. My dad’s no longer a homophobic piece of shit and has mostly come to terms with the fact I’m gay

That problem was the only one people knew about. That problem was resolved. Besides, Roman liked having it out in the open. This way, he got younger kids, freshmen, sophomores, even some juniors or sometimes middle schoolers coming up to him, telling him that they looked up to him. Telling him that it was so cool that he came out. No one could relate to a perfect person. That story was Roman’s flaw, the chip in his armor that showed everyone that he could have problems too.

ah that must’ve sucked

Shoving his mind out of places he would rather not go, Roman texts back, Yeah kinda

There’s a few minutes of silence. Not wanting the conversation to end, Roman asks, How were people’s reactions to your coming out? When Virgil had come out, it wasn’t the talk of the school like when Roman did. In fact, he didn’t even know about it until a week after when Patton told him.

well my mom was completely accepting and was the first one i told, actually. my parents are divorced so i still haven’t told my dad. he’s uber religious so idk how that’s going to go down. my extended family on my mom’s side all know and there are a few cousins on my dad’s side that i’ve sworn to secrecy. Roman had met some religious fanatics who insisted on telling him all the reasons he was going to Hell. Those conversations were never fun. He winces on behalf of Virgil and how that conversation with his dad might go down.

God, being gay is fabulous and all, but sometimes it really is annoying, Roman muses. He sighs; at that moment he was so done with all the problems he and others had to face on a daily basis for simply existing.

i guess so, Virgil responds. Roman can almost feel the thick indifference through the phone screen. Being completely dead to the world was something Roman would never understand. Just watching things happen seems so impossible to him. He’s always had a great amount of passion, sometimes to the point where he would do anything to stand up for what he believed in.

But he’d also learned when and how to shut up, a skill that had taken a long time to master. This is one of those times. As much as Roman would like to convince Virgil that he couldn’t just stand by and accept the homophobia, he didn’t think that would make Virgil like him any more.

Needing to say it once more before the conversation ends, Roman says, I am really sorry for middle school. It wasn’t until late eighth grade that Roman realized how much of an impact his words could have on someone. A day doesn’t go by where he doesn’t regret it. If only I could take all those years back, he wishes. This wasn’t the first time he’d thought that.

yeah, yeah, i get it, princey. The annoyance the text conveys wasn’t angry, like Roman would’ve assumed. It feels almost friendly, which makes Roman very hopeful. Maybe Virgil could grow to like Roman after all. Maybe his foolish dreams and feelings aren’t entirely foolish.

you’re forgiven

Yes, maybe the path Roman thought his crush would lead him on isn’t as full of pain and heartbreak as he had previously believed. It’s possible that, maybe, if Roman is lucky, it could result in something quite wonderful.

#virgil sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders #remus sanders #thomas sanders #prinxiety #logicality #deceit x remus #sanders sides #high school au #fanfiction #fanfic #one day...

15 notes · View notes

seijohsfairy · 3 years

Text

𝚁𝙴𝙼𝙸𝚃𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙴

it’s with little things that futakuchi shines, it’s with little things that he breaks your heart. but with one single word he breaks open the skies and douses you in snow, and maybe that’s good enough. ✧ collab masterlist ✧ go support the amazing creators there!!

massive thank you to @/tsumue for beta reading!! ily

.wordc. 8k+ fake dating!au, smut, angst

tw semi-public, thigh riding, fingering, daddy kink, but it’s sappy and sweet

It isn’t like summer came and left without consequences before. In the excitement of the warm weather, it wasn’t too uncommon to come back with a broken bone or a new scar, laugh about it and boys and silly trips over iced tea with friends. It wasn’t like summer was ever easy to swallow. It had always been violent and murky, thick with the overwhelming fervor of something that felt like it was over too soon.

Your last summers had been that way each time, coming back down to earth only to realize that the marks branded to your skin by clumsy friends or the excuse of love were never quite as pretty as you thought them to be in the orange evening light. You don’t really know why you’re surprised at the consequences again now, but you do know that this time— they genuinely scare you. The light here is low and murky, casting washed out versions of peach and yellow on your white, body-tight dress. Catching on the jewelry that dangles between your collarbones and bobs gently with the breaths you take.

The waves roll close underneath you, almost licking at the edges of the balcony from this angle, like jealous, grabby hands. You sigh, then take another sip of the expensive liquor that was pushed into your hands earlier. It hadn’t always been as flat and colourless, but the bubbles have long escaped. The slide of the door sets your hairs on end, but you don’t move, and you don’t drop your frown. In this way you prove that he is not above consequence either, at least to yourself. At least to the ocean as it looks on with sad eyes at the comedy playing out before it.

His weight feels heavy when he drops onto the metal seat next to you, a soft groan coming from his throat as he does. You still think you adore the sound, always curious as to how he looks when it comes. Sometimes with a pout, when he begs for excessive praise. He does it winding down from conversations, because Kenji is well-spoken only when the situation absolutely requires it. It’s one of the things that never fails to make you laugh. Sometimes, he groans with his arms around your waist and his chin on your head, asking you to come to bed. And as with everything else these last, stupid few months, you turn to him this time too.

In the little refuge away from the violent swell of summer, he looks restless. The soft, clipped way his hair exposes his handsome face for the world to smother; you like teasing him with it. Just briefly, to watch the slight curl to his lips when he spells out how much ‘you love it’. Inquisitive, hazel eyes that seem to unfold the world in front of him two steps at a time. He doesn’t move to take notice of you for a while, with the loud roll of the waves under you and the soft chatter in the background. For a longer while you don’t notice you’re staring either. Until you’ve counted every rise of his chest to a hundred. But it’s always been so easy to get lost in him, because even in the cold, depressing fall of the last day of summer, he’s beautiful.

“Didn’t think you still ran away from confrontation.” Your breathing slows when the breeze ruffles your dress and his dress shirt. “Just come to me next time, don’t sneak out,” he mumbles, the soft curve of his lips twitching up slightly when he finally looks at you. The weight of his eyes on you has always been a bit heavy for you to bear, but tonight it feels burning, and so does his hand when he drops it onto your thigh to drag little circles into it. “It’s not like we have to hate each other all of a sudden.” You don’t, it makes your frown dig deeper into your brows. He waits for your answer. When it doesn’t come he slowly pulls away from your warmth, mouth corners dropping slightly. “We can still talk.” This last one comes out more like a question than anything he’s said all day, and it makes you laugh, though you have to bite your lip to keep it down.

“Can we really, Kenji?” you ask him, looking away from him when he avoids your gaze. You turn back to the sea instead, letting the salty air stick to your lungs in case the drive back home hits you over the head with nostalgia early. “We were never meant to stay here so long. I wasn’t meant to get used to this. Because when we leave tomorrow, I won’t be able to come to you anymore. And I’m sure you’ll go on getting whatever you need out of your pretty, little life,” your voice softens when the sun sinks under the horizon, leaving you with only a few minutes of the last sunlight. “But I don’t think I want to see you grow away from me.” Again, you almost say, though you know it’s not fair to make him apologize for it a second time. And because it is not fair at all, you’re the first to leave the chill of the balcony. You hold your glass aside in one hand as you step over his feet and walk back into the shiny villa.

The cold, shimmering house you felt uncomfortable in doesn’t feel foreign anymore though. And you hate having to consider that maybe somewhere through it all, you really did grow as colourless. Maybe you grew used to pretending to fit, like Kenji did. Not that it’ll matter much once summer ends anyway. The wave you give the guests is a small one, getting a disapproving tut of his mother’s lips from a distance. You know that’s exactly why he asked you of all people, and by now it doesn’t bother you anymore. You don’t wait up for him as you move up the stairs. The spare room is— was yours for a while, and as much as you didn’t expect it to, you know you’ll miss it.

You know this is the place you’ll think of when remembering. You’ll remember the baby pink sheets you insisted on that Kenji mumbled he didn’t like even though he let you have them anyway, and the way your makeup was just a little more fun to do when he was watching over your shoulder in the rising light of the sun than in the dark corner of your room back home. The memories of this summer will replace the ones of past experiences, and maybe when you leave, you’ll think of Kenji as something excellent again. Like you did for so long. But for now… for now you don’t want to thank him for it. For now you want to be as angry as he was when he left you at the corner of the street at fourteen, tears in his eyes as he told you that he never wanted you to be hurt like that by him again.

And you know that he meant well, because despite his quick tongue and a hunger for breaking through people’s shells, he’s never had a bad bone in his body. But none of that matters, when it still leaves you alone. You don’t know why you thought any of this was a good idea.

“Just come with me. I told them it was someone who lived in the street with us before we moved and it’d be so much easier to have you there, not someone who I’m reading lines with,” he’d said, and you had laughed a little too hard at the absurdity of that. You’d put your white bag of groceries by your feet just to cross your arms across your chest and lift a brow at him, snorting at his pristine shoes and branded shirt once.

“Why the hell ask me, of all people? There’s plenty of pretty girls that lived farther down the street that work much better in the whole play you’re trying to sell them. Your parents hate me.” Your voice had been a little too sharp, too accusatory to have come from an objective place, but why the hell would you have been when it came to him? You’d known each other for years and then lost contact for just as long, you’d probably already been totally different people for a while. “What do you really want, Futakuchi? You’re not still rebelling against your parents, are you?”

“Is it so impossible to you that I just want to take you with me for this?” he’d huffed, running his long fingers through the shorter cut than the one you remembered him with, looking down at you. Always had been tall too, but now it seems almost mocking in difference.

“It is,” you’d snorted, picking up your groceries again. “Can’t believe you really came all the way back here to find me, honestly. I mean- of all the things you could have started a conversation with…” You’d taken a step from the sidewalk, fully intent on heading home. But his hand had been on your arm in an instant, a gentle, sturdy reminder that this wasn’t just some stranger. You’d bit your cheek and narrowed your eyes at him, before sighing. “Give me one good reason why I would.”

And the tiny, hopeful smile on his lips had been enough to remind you of every single memory you’d shared. “I’ll make it worth your while?”

He has made it worth your while, you think as you start packing your bag, not bothering to change out of the satin white present just yet. In all honesty, you don’t even know why you’ve let him in again. As most things that happen in summer, he’ll fade once it’s gone. Freckles do. Scars do. Memories do too. It’s the natural flow of things. So you don’t know why you still feel so saddened by the thought. The feet on the stairs are a bit too slow and careful to be completely thoughtless, something that makes the slight twitch of your lip feel comforting. The soft creak of the door is all the warning you get, and you take a deep breath to prepare.

Because whatever comes out of his mouth next won’t be easy to swallow either. You press the flowy shirts into your bag a little more, focussing on the way they get dented under your fingertips when you let your palm rest on the shiny silk. If you didn’t want to let him in why did you do it then, it sounds loud in your head, even though in your inner monologue it sounds strained too. Why? This high life isn’t you, the rumours and playing dress-up for everyone else’s amusement isn’t either. But maybe you wanted to try for Kenji. Maybe you wanted to see what it was that led him away from you and onto better pastures. The grass really might be a bit brighter, is all you can think, given how much sunlight it gets in the stretch of open space here.

“Is this really how you want to leave it?” he asks, calling your name from beside you. You continue with the clothes until it feels like your fingers are cold and the words have sunken into the floor. But there’s so little to say. “Come on, princess, you don’t have to…” he sighs, and you turn over your shoulder only to watch the line dig between his pretty brows and remain there for too long. His eyes roam along the curve of your face down to your neck, where the diamond necklace with his initials engraved still hangs. A present— fake present, to sell the whole dating thing. “Why are you trying so frustratingly hard to prove me wrong? I mean- just imagine you had fun this summer, and I did too. Would that be so bad?”

“Does it really matter, Kenji?” your mouth is quicker than your thoughts in moments like these, but you’re grateful for them, because otherwise you might freeze over in the lack of his glow. “We weren’t really together. All of this was a little performance, and we played it well,” you huff, putting on your bravest smile as you put your makeup bags away too, “but once we’re gone here you’re going to go back to all of those people and tell them we broke up, remember? It’s fine for us to have bad blood after a ‘breakup’. We held hands and slept in the same room, that doesn’t suddenly make us the best of friends again.”

“A whole summer and this is where you give up?” He huffs, chest rising a little too rapidly. “I think we need to have a talk about timing it out, sweetheart, because of all the times you could have given up on me—”

“I never gave up on you. You gave up on us a while ago, don’t put that on me. You’re the one who stopped responding to my texts when you left.” The grating of the zipper is loud when you close the bag, putting it next to the bed. Your feet hurt, and your head feels heavy in the silence, but it’s the shuffle of his feet that has you freezing over. Without a word he gently rests a hand on your hip, pulling you into him until your arm is squished between your body and his chest. Like that he holds you, looking at the ceiling while he speaks.

“I’m not good at this.”

It’s the soft sigh that comes out after his blank tone that has you softening until you’re barely anything but mush, his other arm wrapping around your front and keeping you locked in an embrace that you couldn’t crack if you wanted to. And in all truth, you probably don’t. As he leans his nose to your temple, his cologne fills the air you breathe and forces you to taste him before you’re ready to, making you swallow him whole with the soft beating of his heart against your skin.

And then you hear his father call his name, with a smile laced between the letters, like he’s the most precious thing. He is, to you as well. And it’s the shake of your head after his father’s call that reminds you it is the same for him, you both ache to burn up together, to be pressed so close to each other that the air has no room to go. It reminds you that this was never your spot to stand in. You swallow through the pressure of welling tears to place your fingers to his chest and push, stumbling back a step.

“Kenji, come say goodbye! Your friend can handle packing herself,” his mother calls from the hall. Friend. You’ve long despised the way she spits the syllables of the word, but you also know that to her, you, all that you have ever been, is nothing more than a cliff in the way of her son’s future. The brunet bites his bottom lip as he stares at the toes of your dainty, little heels; before slowly straightening out his shoulders and stuffing his hands into the pockets of his slacks. He doesn’t look back at you when he turns to the door.

“She’s my girlfriend, mom,” he shouts back, but even you can tell that there’s no fire left behind the words. In the end, he always would’ve lost that fight anyway. You can hear the soft murmurs of a conversation between his parents, but it stays quiet after that. And Kenji moves his jaw back and forth a few times in thought, before he rests his hand onto the doorknob. “I have to go see them out, just a second.” You lick at your strawberry lip gloss and brush your hand over your white dress a few times as you nod, crossing one foot over the other in place.

Before he leaves the room to go wave out his to-be fiancé and her parents, you let the words fall. If not for your good, at least for his. “Kenji, I know you’re trying to prove to your parents that you don’t have to listen to what they tell you. But you and I both know that you will anyway, because you care about them.” His shoulders rise and fall with each breath, but his back is the only thing you get to see. You’re grateful for it. And you can’t help but let a small smile slip on, because the woman they chose for him is beautiful. She’s kind too. He won’t have it so bad.

“If you really want to be friends still, come find me some time when you don’t need me to do you a favor,” you mumble.

He doesn’t say anything as he steps through the door and walks down the stairs, and you chuck the last of your stuff on the bed to put it away too.

And if summer is the time you leave with a heavy heart and the weight of the world on your shoulders, maybe it’s the universe’s way of finding balance making you meet him in winter. The hot glow of wine buzzes through your chest, black, beaded dress a tad too short for the cold weather. But you’re hidden out in the bustle of people in similar clothing and packed close together, laughing along with some of your classmates. It’s dim and dark and surprisingly trashed for what should have been a friendly gathering, but as students tend to do, everyone who got word showed up for the free booze. You lean into one of the girls. “I’m gonna go take a look around the front, I want to see the ice rink!”

“Okay, I gotta use the restroom but I’ll find you,” she nods, before probably relaying her boyfriend the same message. You squeeze through a few of the people with slow steps, goosebumps rising as soon as the packed people grow wider apart in the hall. The loud music is less overwhelming here, you notice, swaying slightly. And little sparkling snowflakes are hung with lights along the walls, making you smile. As you shuffle past a group of girls significantly drunker than you, the frosty air hits you. With flushed cheeks and noses they laugh and spread out among their friends like it’s the only thing winter leaves room for.

As you step out into the night, it’s easy to pretend that this isn’t one of those nights you try to forget. But even tipsy, you know better. The laughter out here is loud, some people squeaking at the cold as they slip around on skates, clinging to each other in drunk, off-balance groups. You wrap your arms tight around yourself as you walk through the grass toward the rink, shaking a little at the frosty air coming up from the ice. The gritty sound of the skates on the ice is barely audible over the chatter and laughter of all of the people, some generic Christmas playlist bouncing around the garden through the speakers.

You lick your bottom lip as you lean onto the banister and blow out a little cloud. A cursed thought of Kenji worms it’s way between your ears as you watch. So with pursed lips, you leave your spot to look around for the tables with booze. The guy behind the stand grins when you tell him to give you a double, though he doesn’t comment on it, and you place it to your lips with a second of preemptive regret, before downing the thing.

It burns on it’s way down, hitting the back of your throat with a nasty, bitter taste. You frown, and chuck the empty plastic beaker into the trash can. A soft chuckle catches you slightly off guard. “Going through it?” the guy asks before you turn to face him, hands in his pockets and broad frame cutting off your view of the people skating. Out of all the people you had to run into tonight, of course it’d be your ex. He must’ve come here for one too many drinks. As he leans past you to pick up one of the shots himself, you take a step back. You didn’t plan on being cordial to strangers tonight, let alone exes.

“Yeah, something like that.”

“I can tell,” he chuckles, sticking out his hand towards your face. “You always get that expression on your face when you’re lost in thought.” He sounds oddly fond at that, it makes your stomach feel heavy. You two didn’t end it great and though you didn’t date for long, you’d rather step on glass than pretend to be a good conversation partner to a person who never even bothered to remember your last name. You glance around the groups of people for anyone you know. Haru doesn’t take the hint when you sigh loudly either. But you don’t see the people you came with anywhere, so you drop your shoulders with a sigh. “Drink?” the black-haired man asks, and you shake your head.

“No, I think I’ve had enough for tonight. Will probably be heading home soon anyway.”

“Ah,” he grimaces at that, “already? And here I was thinking you’d like to talk to me again.” Anything but that. “You always skip out of classes so soon that I didn’t get to talk to you after we split, but that blondie tells me you’re doing well.” He downs his shot easily, and it’s then that you realise how flushed his cheeks and nose are, no longer from the cold. “You sure you don’t want another drink?” he says, as you look over his shoulder to the rink. There’s enough people here not to be worried about starting trouble, but the way he leans into your space is still uncomfortable enough to have you backing yourself into the wall.

“Yes, I’m good.” When you try to take a step away, he reaches for your arm, and out of instinct you snatch it back. “Stop, don’t touch me,” you snap at him, and he frowns for a second. Clearly too drunk to understand that you’re not interested in playing his games at all, even if he doesn’t mean harm. He huffs out an amused breath at your short answer and reaches out again, and you glare at him. “Haru, cut it out, I’m not playing this stupid game.” But it’s when he gives you a harder stare, lips drooping, that you remember why you only dated for a month. He doesn’t know when to stop, definitely not when he drinks.

“Come on, don’t be like that. We had some good chemistry, didn’t we?” He walks too far into your space, and gives you an up and down. “Why don’t we get out of here and try that again? You look really good tonight.” As soon as he reaches for the edge of your dress, his arm is caught in a tight grip, his face scrunching up.

“Keep your fucking paws off of her,” the person hisses, tall body suddenly right there for you to lean into. You don’t even need to look over your shoulder to feel the wave of safety that comes when he shoves your ex back a few steps and pulls you into him under his chin, sighing. Within seconds, every bit of his attention is aimed at you, dousing you in heat under his sharp gaze. “I was looking for you, angel. Don’t just wander off.” He smiles down at you, honey eyes glittering in the surrounding light. “Everything okay, are you hurt?” And your heart seems to swell twice the size at his handsome face.

The stupid stutter of your pulse reminds you just how much he affects you. Maybe even more now. “No, I’m fine,” you whisper back, so soft it barely reaches your own ears. But he must understand, because he turns you in his hold and places a kiss on your nose, then looking back at the guy. You do too, for just a second as he processes the situation, and you don’t really want to stick around long enough for him to get the chance. “Kenji, this is Haru. Haru, this is my boyfriend,” you say easily, not the first time you’ve had to play this role. It comes easily when you feel his strong arms around you, when you feel his breath dusting over your skin. He smells like holiday spices, and you allow your body to melt in a little more.

“Let’s go,” is all you have to say to make him giggle, letting you from his hold to walk you past the people and out of the mass of sloppy drunks. You stare at his back as he leads you on, fingers cold in his warm palms. When you come to a halt in a quieter hall, you gently pull back, and he stops. You’re both quiet, and your dress suddenly feels a bit too snug to breathe entirely comfortably, as his eyes roam your features quickly. You lick your lips, then take a deep breath. “Since when do you mix in with the loney seniors during the holidays?” The grin that comes to his lips is beautiful, widening when you continue. “I thought you graduated, Kenji. Don’t have anything better to do?”

“Am I not welcome anymore, princess?” he playfully bites back, and you try and hold in a laugh, failing miserably. He runs his hand through his hair, before leaning against the wall. “I was helping out a buddy set up that shit out there.”

You nod in understanding as you take him in, the Christmas sparkles filling his eyes with a shimmering glow, waiting for— something to give. Though you could stand and watch him forever. Until he cracks his lips open to giggle. “We have nothing to say to each other again?”

“Oh, I have plenty to say,” you respond, cheeks bunching up when he takes a step toward you to grab onto your hands. “Just… maybe not right now.” The hall here is mostly vacant, leading back further into the uninteresting part of the house, so the thump of the bass doesn’t overwhelm your chest. You’re so grateful for that when he stands toe to toe with you, and strokes his thumb over your fingers. “Kenji— I-”

“Wait,” he says though, leaning down to hover his face so close to yours it makes you dizzy. “I have things to say too. I’m sorry for,” he peeks out his tongue in thought as he looks away, and you use it to lean your face away from him a little. It’s not fair. The festive atmosphere is making your mind all twisted. “For taking for granted that you stuck by me. I think I was trying to prove myself so much this summer that I took too lightly that you were there for me when I needed you. And I’m sorry if I… hurt you.”

“It was a good memory anyway.” You pull your hands out of his when he eyes you down again, much too intense for a normal two people at a random party, but it seems appropriate only because it’s him. The way his cheeks are slightly coloured a peachier tone, his expression no longer the teasing grin you’ve grown to know. “Does this mean I’m invited to the wedding again?”

The amused gleam sparks over his face at that for just a second. “Eager are you, princess? If I were to ask you now would you say yes?”

You swat his hand away as he reaches for you again, grinning too wide. He always manages to leave you a bit too giddy. “I meant with the girl from this summer, you flirt.” He doesn’t take his eyes away from you for a second as he instantly replies, like he’s trying to commit your reaction to memory. It makes you feel so much smaller than you are, because like everything else with Kenji, he always leaves you vulnerable.

“I said no.” Your eyes widen. But the why must be visible on your face because he continues. “I said no because she’s not the person I would’ve stayed married to in the long run, she’s not someone I think about every single day. Someone who doesn’t get hurt when I inevitably flap out some stupid shit. Someone who knows what I’m doing even when I can’t admit it to myself yet.”

“Then you best find someone like that, huh.” You take a step away from him. This is too much. The moment, however perfect, is just too dreamy. You and Kenji aren’t— this, you’re messy and hazy and romantic confessions aren’t your thing. And you can’t help but think that this, this is what’ll break you most of all. You never wanted to think of your feelings for him as anything more than a little crush, so why do you feel this way? So shaky. “I should go home, it’s cold and I wasn’t going to stay for long anyway.”

Maybe it’s because you’ve made peace with being the thing that he clung to to rebel so long ago, that your feet move before your brain can catch up. All you know is that he’ll crack you wide open if you stay any longer, and you don’t think you can handle that. Before he can say anything else, and you know he does— you can read it in his widening eyes, you pivot on your heel and start walking away from the noise of the main room, towards the doorway. But his frustrated huff is loud behind you, and his footsteps close your heel.

“Stay,” he asks, shattering your glass cage into a thousand pieces. Because Kenji is only demanding when he is sure of what he’s doing. You don’t make it to the door before he reaches down to grab you by the edge of your dress, pulling you into the stairway, hidden from sight. You veer back like a spring because of his grip, as his other hand comes to keep you from falling.

In your attempt to turn, you stumble backwards, his arm caging you against the wall for balance. You stare up at him for several seconds squeezed against the wall. With a little frown, the brunet lets go of you, though the hand on your other side doesn’t have any intention of leaving. “Don’t chase me, you sap.” Before he can say anything, you blink up at him so cutely. “What are you doing?” There’s a slight fog in your eyes when you trail off. But you look intoxicating in the best way.

“Oh, shut up.” He grimaces, doing his best to keep the stubborn grin from crawling back to his cheeks. For a second, he wonders if this is out of line. Just a split second, where it seems like it’s not his place to intervene. One he has to wonder if you’re bothered by his unending indecisiveness. But as if on clue, you laugh. Full and genuine, with every fiber of your being you laugh, leaning your head to his chest in the process. Maybe you are fed up with him by now. But he wants to say it, anyway. “I said no because I can’t imagine doing this for anyone else, baby.”

When you take a deep breath in, you look at him from under your lashes. Your mouth curves prettily in the shine of the dimmed lights. “Don’t tell me you fell in love with me while we were playing pretend.” A warmth spreads on his cheeks at the teasing glint in your eyes. “Though I did that too, so I guess we’re both saps.” Your hand wraps around his larger, fingers cold against his warm skin. He takes a deep breath through his nose, at a sudden loss for words. The hall is much more quiet than the main one, lacking in people too. It’s chilly, but his body is warm. Your eyes are on him as he moves back to face you, softly regarding him.

“Was it the fancy button-ups?”

Your tongue peeks out to wet your lips again. “No.” Your finger softly taps the side of his hand, though he doesn’t know if it’s a comforting move or a concerned one. Though your fingers are noticeably colder than his, your touch is soft, like velveteen. “It was everything else.” His bright eyes bore into yours for an extended second, before the tenseness of his shoulders drops when you move back to press your weight into the wall, tilting your head to the side.

His laugh is one of surprise, slipping out like it’s been aching to do so for a long time and you also look surprised, if your raised eyebrows are anything to go by. It doesn’t last nearly as long as it should, but you seem to bloom at the sound, even joining with it after a bit. His laugh makes you flutter, and that almost sends him spiraling. Because it’s his laugh that makes you smile.

“Good. I— As fucking embarrassing as it is to admit, I miss waking up next to you.” Kenji’s hand moves from your side to glide over his thigh, a move to soothe his nerves. His gaze finds yours with more fervor this time. “I miss that thing you do when you cling to my arm or back or hand, okay?” His voice is deep when he talks. “I miss your goofy ass.”

It stays silent for a long minute, one where he can see every breath you take. Eventually you bite your bottom lip. “You’re a menace, Futakuchi Kenji,” you say, mouthing it eagerly as if his name is something grand. Something to be proud of, it makes his heart swell. Your lips look like they taste of candy floss. It’s distracting, even more when you smile. You’ve always been so beautiful to him, he feels like leaning closer to you just so he can hold himself up on the wall. It’s embarrassing how badly it renders him. “I should hate you by now.”

You huff out a small laugh, and place your hands on his chest, the pressure of your nails poking through his shirt. “But you somehow manage to rope me back into your schemes each time,” you smile, a playfulness dripping from under your lashes, “you’re lucky I love you.” A few seconds of pause. Kenji revels in the heat that dusts your cheeks when you realize what you just said.

Before you can bring out an attempt to cover up your confession, he leans closer, effectively trapping you between him and the wall. Before he can think about it, his hand finds your chin, tilting it up towards him so that you can look at him, and oh— are you looking. “Yeah? I know you want me just as bad as I want you.” He can almost see the pitter patter of your heart on your face, longing marking every inch of skin. With a firm hold on your jaw, he leans down to hover in your space, faces so close that he can feel your breath meeting his own. “Isn’t that right?”

When you give the tiniest motion of agreement, the length of his body finally finds yours. Your lips open to let out a small noise, so soft that it immediately gets swallowed by the room. But the brunet smiles at it, moving his thumb over the soft expanse of your cheek. “I could ruin you without trying, angel.” Again, you nod, warm and dark in the thick tension of the room. Though he didn’t start the night with this in mind, he’s wanted this for longer than he dares admit. Marking your body with blooming hickeys. The tightness of his pants seems to prove so.

“You could,” you bring out feebly, fingers tangling in his grey shirt to keep a hold on reality, “and I’d probably let you.” His free hand moves to grab your thigh, pulling you flush against him now, as the other goes to rest on the small of your back. Your eyes are dark like smoke, and though he can’t check to see, he knows his are too. Then you move one of your hands to grab at the hair at the base of his skull, willingly tilting your face upwards so that your lips almost brush his, and every string in his body is ready to snap. Every piece of clothing on his body seems too much, too warm. The friction is irritating. “Do you want to kiss me, Kenji?” you breathe.

Yes. He doesn’t wait for it. Lips on yours in a blink. Hands on your skin and under your dress and traveling up your thighs. It happens in a breath, so sudden that he might topple over if he wasn’t pressing you into the wall. Your lips are scalding, red hot like smoldering coals and maybe you could send him up in flames if you tried. Your hands grab him harder, closer, as if the non-space is still too much and he’d be inclined to agree. And his lips move harshly on yours, tongue meeting your own.

The kiss is hard and messy, fire surging from your body to his. “Fucking finally.” He bends down more to tuck you entirely in his hold, grabbing a handful of ass. When he squeezes hard, you squeak into his mouth, dissolving in a twirl of smiles and something more desperate. But you don’t ever stop kissing him, and he’s sure you two could keep going forever. Where your fingers were cold before, now they seem to trail sparks over his skin. You pull away for a second to take a breath, before kissing him again, his bottom lip, his jaw, under his ear. Your hand grabs desperately at his shoulder.

But he’s only just gotten a taste of you, so Kenji catches your lips with his again, sucking sharply on your bottom lip. It makes you melt into his hold, trying desperately to stay upright. “Fuck, angel.” The hand that is glued to the soft expanse of your back moves to grab another handful of ass, your hips pulled to his. Your tongue tastes like some candy flavored drink, melting with the barren taste of the hard liquor from earlier. Your chest brushes against his own with every breath.

Every part of you is piping hot, sweet and sour and holy fuck— his dick is so hard. Never once has a make out turned him on this much. “You want to do this here?” he asks, and you nod instantly. As in retaliation for the interruption of your kisses, you pull his lip between your teeth and bite it hard. The sting only serves as a temporary line down to earth.

Mouths and tongues a blur as they melt together. Again, his hands are moving on instinct. His fingers tangle in the bottom of your hair. “Want you so bad, Kenji.” You pull back to rest your head on the wall, allowing him a breath, before you blatantly moan at the feeling of his hands on you. Your eyes stay closed. Lips swollen and blurred at the edges. You look fucking heavenly, and the thought that it’s all for him to take makes every fiber in him shake. “Don’t be gentle with me,” you mouth, blindly grabbing at his neck to pull his face back to yours, “please.”

Your bottom lip seems to shake with how badly you mean it. “If you’re gonna do this, do it well.” Your whisper is faint, bringing a small smile to his lips. You don’t see it, but it’s okay. He too is overwhelmed with the undying urge to make you his. He kisses you with a small hum to join. When his lips break from yours, you do open your eyes, looking just as smitten as he feels. “I swear, you jerk. I won’t forgive you if you go soft on me now.” He stares at you for just a moment longer, before nodding. Dragging his mouth over your jaw. Down your neck, hard, open mouth kisses everywhere. And as soon as he adds teeth, you curl into his body, clinging desperately to his back. You moan, your noises sweet like sugar.

The thought of fucking you against this wall crosses his mind, but as fast as it comes, he knows that won’t sate him. He needs you on a bed, spread out for him once, or twice. Sweat drips down his neck and chest and joins the ruined floor of the party. The tightness of his pants is almost painful when your hips tilt to rub over him. It pulls a small laugh out of him, brushing over your shoulder. “Eager, baby?” he asks, though he’s not expecting an answer. Instead, he just digs his fingers into the soft skin of your ass again while you mumble some incoherent words. “Want me so bad, huh?”

“Yes, yes, want you.” Your whines turn into noises of clear impatience, so he pulls back to check his work. Your dress is pulled all the way forward, almost slipping off your one shoulder, and your mouth is open. The hickeys blooming on your skin only make you look more wrecked. He thought he was done, but fuck. Yet again, he has to lean down to grab your face in both of his large hands, and to pull your lips to his. You just whimper, and let him claim your mouth as his, looking too blissed out. “Want your fat cock.”

Your glowing body presses to his again, in an attempt to move things forward maybe, fuck if he knows. At this point, he’d do anything if you just asked. But he’ll do his very best to ruin you like you need him to. “You’re getting my hands now. Beg for my cock after that, pretty girl.”

His knee lifts to sit tightly in between your thighs, and you moan at the small act. “You’re so fucking pretty,” he breathes, mouth at the nape of your neck to bite down there sharply, as your hips stutter to drag over his thick thigh. It sends an unbearable amount of pressure to his center, enough to make him pause. You don’t let him though, squeezing and grabbing at any skin you can get your hands on, as you successfully roll your hips on his thigh. A high pitched noise trembles from your tongue. “Aren’t you a desperate, little girl? Look at you rubbing yourself all over my thigh.”

You just nod harshly, opening your eyes to look at the brunet with a heat-filled need. “K- Kenji,” you whisper, digging your nails into his bicep as he pushes his leg harder into your center, “fuck, holy fuck, please.” Your gorgeous expression right now is priceless.

“You’re soaking through your panties, aren’t you?” His one hand moves past the dress and under your bra to grab you without shame. Your eyes shut with a sharp breath in. “Aren’t you, angel?” he repeats, dark tone pressed to the softness of your cheek. You breathe a faint ‘yes’, probably, but Kenji’s not sure.

He maneuvers your chin sideways to access the untouched side of your neck, and sucks down there with a feverous breath of his own. Fucking shit, he wishes he’d done this a million times over already. You leave him starstruck. As your slicking cunt moves over his thigh in a punishing rhythm, he squeezes hard at your tits, and rolls your sensitive bud between his thumb and index finger. “Use your words for me, I know you can. You’re normally so mouthy.” It’s too much for you, you suddenly pull his head away from your neck and quiver in his hold.

“I— I’m,” his free hand moves to wrap your one thigh around him, not bothered by the interruption in the slightest, “I need to…” You don’t finish your sentence when he ruts his hips to your core, making the both of you moan. God, he wants nothing more than to have you right here, make you see who you belong to. But he’s too selfish to give in so easily. You try again, hooded eyes on him as you jut out your bottom lip. “Daddy— please, fuck— I’m close.” The words alone make his dick even harder, if possible. It might not be long or he bursts, with how tight his pants are wrapped around him.

The smile he gives you is a genuine one. “You wanna cum? You wanna cream all over me, have everyone know how good I can make you feel?” You wrap your hand around his forearm for support. “Do it then.” The desperate roll of your hips to his clothed dick speeds up, each bit of friction to your clit getting you closer. With a devilish smirk that fights its way to his face, he pinches your nipples, not letting your hips still on his thigh. When he bites down on the soft of your neck you buck against him and fall over the edge, nails digging into his back and arm hard.

“Fuck— fuckfuck oh-fuck, ahng, daddy!” You slump into him through the lingering high as he keeps grinding into you until you whine at the rough fabric of his jeans against your slicked, almost translucent panties. His free hand dips smoothly under your dress and past your ruined panties.

“God, you are soaked, baby.” Your wetness is sure to stain a dark patch on his pants.

“Ahg- daddy,” you whimper, “no- more t-teasing. Wanna be full.” The leg that is pressed in between your legs parts them wider, giving him the space needed to slip his fingers under you, first one, then two. You tilt your head back, allowing him the perfect opportunity to latch his mouth back on your neck. You’re effectively dripping, allowing his long finger to slide in without any resistance. He doesn’t hesitate to add a second, enjoying your soft noises of pleasure above him as his lips suck a hickey at the top of your breast.

“Do my fingers feel good in that needy pussy?” He thrusts them inside hard to accompany his words, sending you forward into a blubbering mess. The only thing he can make out is the word ‘yes’, that you chant a million times. You’re so responsive, it’s adorable. His fingers move smoothly in and out of you with a curl, leaving you moaning through the stretch. But he doesn’t stay this kind for long, needy in his touches as much as you are. He pulls back to watch you squirm on his hand and lock your thigh around his body, fingers thrusting in and out with obscene noises and delivering a slap to your clit every time skin connects to skin. “You’re such a little slut. I would’ve stuffed you each fucking night and morning if I knew.”

You’re pinned under his sharp movements, arms wrapped around his neck to keep him close and breathing hot and heavy against his skin. “Feels so good, your fingers -ahn- feel- amazing.” And every time he jams them into your tight hole, thumb rubbing over your clit, you seem to clench harder around his hand. He adds a third finger, smiling at the whines you let out, and curls his fingers as much as possible, until the rhythm becomes too much to bear.

Your body bends entirely under his will, as you whimper. “God— fucking shit, I’m gonna come again.” A soft whine, before your face tilts towards him with two shaky breaths. “Kiss me daddy, please— oh, please, don’t stop.”

He wouldn’t stop even if someone paid him to do so. He gives in, moving his free hand to your jaw to grab it tight, and pushes his lips back on yours harshly. His thick fingers spread you thin as you clench around him, and his thumb setting an unrelenting pace. It doesn’t take long until you’re coming all over his hand and thigh even harder, moaning into his mouth with an iron grip on his shoulders. You dissolve in his arms as he doesn’t let up on your clit until you’re effectively shaking, body jerking with aftershocks. His hand stills in you for a moment as you come down from your high, mouth hung open.

And then you open your eyes at him, and send him the world’s sweetest smile, and he’s totally lost for you. He’ll be yours, and just yours. He’ll make it worth the wait. “Good?” he whispers into your ear, covering your body with his as much as possible when he pulls his fingers out of you, and unwraps your thigh from his body. Your cum and arousal drips down your both thighs as you nod your head, still holding onto him for support. He nods in agreement once, before pressing a kiss to your cheek and pulling away from you. He slides his fingers into his own mouth to clean them off one by one, enjoying the shell-shocked look on your face as he does so.

“That’s it, pretty baby,” he says, “almost made me cum too.” He reaches down in between your thighs once more to swipe up the trails of your cum and reaches up to hover them over your lips, to which you respond by eagerly taking his fingers in yours, and cleaning those off with your soft tongue too. The visual only reminds him of how hard his cock is, and how badly he needs you. You finish off with a soft pop, before looking down at the floor with coloring cheeks. “Good girl.”

He looks around for a moment to catch his bearings, before looking back over at you where you’re fixing your dress back over your body. “Let’s find a room upstairs so I can fuck you stupid.” Your big eyes find his with a dark burning desire still. “I want to have you creaming on my cock too, before I confess my undying love.”

“Yes please.”

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lemonlushff-iy · 4 years

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Read parts 1-4 here

One Last Ride - Part Five

Kagome drove down the long, winding dirt path to her mother's house, the events of the day playing over and over again in her head. She had so many questions for her mother, starting with "what the hell was going on?", followed by "why is Inuyasha helping out around the ranch?".

As her childhood home came into view, she felt the familiar bitter sweetness of nostalgia wash over her. This was the home she had grown up in. This house was the background for most of her childhood memories…both good and bad.

The wooden rocking chairs were still out on the porch. She had spent hours there as a child with her grandfather, listening to his stories about her father as a child. It's where she had plucked her fingers raw as his leathery hands covered hers, teaching her to play his guitar.

The front yard was cleaner now. It still had a soccer ball near the side, but the bikes were gone. Stored in the shed around back, like they were supposed to be. She supposed her brother drove to school now instead of biking the long distance.

She used to hate biking to school too. Only she didn't…Because Inuyasha would stop by first and go with her. He would race with her...letting her win almost every single time, because they both knew that he could pedal a lot faster.

Their fathers had taught them how to ride the bike at the same time...on this very long, winding road. Inuyasha would put on a brave face whenever he fell and skinned himself, but her father would swoop in, look at his wounds, and give him a hug. Her father would call him a champ when he stood back up, ready to keep going.

That's the kind of man her father was.

The kind of man who would wake up at four in the morning to take her fishing and just listen to her talk about all of her problems, no matter how big or small they were. He'd listen to her complain and vent over school work, excitedly talk about the latest article she was working on for the school paper, and confess her ideas for that newest short story.

It was their special time together. Where they could just be and bond...Where he had told her that he believed in her dreams. Where he told her that she was a talented writer and should keep pursuing it. Where he had told her that he was happy she was happy with Inuyasha...but if he hurt her, he wouldn't hesitate to break out his shotgun.

She had groaned at that...but having his blessing? For all if it?

It had meant the world to her.

Now...the rocking chairs stood empty, and the fishing rods lay coated in dust.

A light had been extinguished in her heart with each of their passing...and it had taken a long time to find a small flashlight for the void within.

She put her car into park, coming around to the trunk to pop it and remove her suitcase as the door to the house opened.

"Kagome!" her younger brother, Souta, called as he ran over to her, leaping into her arms so suddenly she had to drop the suitcase to catch him. "Trust fall!" he yelled as she staggered backwards from the force, the car catching her in her back. If it hadn't been there, she would have landed on her ass, but she didn't care.

"Souta," she laughed, her heart feeling a bit lighter. This was why she had come home. For him. For his graduation.

"Hey sis," he grinned, his eyes happily dancing before he bent over and tucked his head under her chin, squeezing the air out of her lungs.

"S-Sout-ta...C-can't...breathe…"

"That's ok."

"S-Souta!"

"Alright," he grumbled, pulling away from her and she gasped for air, bending over to rest her hands on her knees. "I'm so glad you made it! We were a bit worried that you wouldn't when your flight got delayed...and then we heard your car broke down…"

"I wasn't going to let that stop me! It's your big day buddy...I couldn't miss that," she grinned, righting herself and grabbing him around the shoulders to muss up his hair. "God...I think you grew another inch since Christmas...would you stop growing already? You're already taller than me."

"Just trying to catch up to Inuy-ah...LeBron James. You know. So I can have a better shot at the NBA," he smiled weakly.

"You can say his name, Souta," she replied, pulling away to push her hair behind her ears as he picked up her suitcase. "He's a good man. Not Voldemort...we don't have to pretend he doesn't exist, ok?"

"Are we pretending that Zach doesn't exist?" he asked, leading her into the house.

"Yes. Yes we are," she laughed, closing the door. It smelled like home...or at least of her mother's fried chicken. And if that wasn't home, she wasn't sure what was.

"Oh! My Sweet Baby Girl!" She heard her mother's sweet, melodic timbre instantly washed away any lingering pain from her hellish day. It was all worth it. The delayed flight. The broken down car. The horrible dinner. All of it was worth it so that she could be here. With her family.

She'd brave it all again just for this.

Her mother swept her up into her arms, rocking her from side to side, and she inhaled deeply. Underneath the scent of fried chicken she smelled of her, and of the fancy rose scented perfume she only wore on special occasions.

"Hi Mama," she sighed, pulling away to look closely at her mother. She was the same, but not. She was a bit thinner than she remembered her being...her cheeks only slightly more sunken in than she recalled as being "normal" for her mother. She wore concealer, under her eyes...something she normally avoided doing. Perhaps it was to hide the dark circles she was certain was under it? Her hair, while still short and wavy, was a bit frizzier than she remembered it being as well. Sure it was summer and all, but her mother had always taken pride in her hair.

If Inuyasha hadn't already tipped her off that something might be wrong here, she would have known the second she saw her mother.

"Let me get a look at you! Oh it's been too long, Kagome!" Her mother sighed, holding her out at an arm's length as she examined her. "Good! You're eating well."

"Mother! Did you just call me fat?"

"I said nothing of the sort - I'm just glad living in California hasn't gotten to you yet and I don't have a twig daughter."

God! Everyone and their hatred of California!

"I'm fine Mama," she growsed. "Maybe a little tired and emotionally worn down from dinner...but I'm fine."

"Yeah how'd that go?" Souta called, running down the stairs from her room. He sounded like a bull in a china cabinet, with the way his feet pounded on each step. "I was shocked when Mama told me. Of all the places for your car to break down…"

"Trust me - I know," she replied rolling her eyes as she followed her mother and brother into the kitchen. "It was...well, I would have liked it if it had gone better, but it could have been a hell of a lot worse. Inuyasha helped me fix the car up as soon as dinner was over."

"Did you two talk about anything?" her mother pried lightly, placing an open tupperware of chocolate chip cookies in the center of the table.

She snorted and plucked a cookie out from the pile within, taking a bite and asking, "about what specifically?"

"I don't know, anything noteworthy," she shrugged, reaching into the refrigerator and pulling out the milk, pouring it into two glasses.

"She's asking if you and Inuyasha talked about...things," her brother helpfully supplied.

"We talked about a bunch of things."

"Such as?" her mother tried again, placing the milk in front of them and crossing her arms on the table.

"Such as my favorite color," she replied dryly, taking a sip from her milk.

"No...really..." her mother said, cocking her head to the side.

"Really," Kagome confirmed, taking another bite from her cookie. "He asked me what it was. He wasn't sure if it was still green. Shouldn't we be talking about something more exciting than my run in with Inuyasha? Like Souta's graduation?"

"I dunno sis," he teased. "You've been avoiding him for seven years. This feels pretty exciting to me…"

She threw her cookie at him.

"The two of you! We're fine. Everything's fine. Can we just...move on from him?" she groaned, and they reluctantly changed the conversation to Souta's graduation plans.

The ceremony was the day after next, and Souta had requested that they go to Ottwell's, one of only two diners in town, afterwards followed by bowling. Apparently he had plans with some friends that night, so he was graciously gracing them with his presence in the afternoon.

After that, they spent the next two hours talking about everything and nothing. Kagome filled them in on how work at the magazine and was going, and confirmed that no...she hadn't seriously started dating anyone new yet. She had set up Tinder on her phone again though.

Buyo her cat was fine. A little older and more crotchety, but her roommate Ayame was looking after him while she was gone. She had met Ayame in college and the two had become fast friends, supporting each other on all of life's ups and downs on the west coast.

Souta, she was surprised to hear, had decided to delay attending a college for a year. When she had pressed him on why, he had simply shrugged and told her that he wasn't sure what he wanted to do beyond this...and if there even was something he wanted to do beyond this. Besides. It's not like it ever hurt anyone to take a year off. He would use the time to help around the ranch and do some soul searching.

She would have liked to argue with him, but she couldn't. It was important that he forge his own path, and if this was what he needed to do…well...she might not like it, but she could support it. Just as they had when she left home for UCLA.

When he began to fake yawn to excuse himself to go to sleep, but really play video games in his room, Kagome stood up and snapped the lid back onto the tupperware of cookies.

"You know, I had been hoping that perhaps you had patched things up with Inuyasha," her mother began casually, watching her daughter wash her hands in the kitchen sink.

Kagome could sense her mother had been waiting until he was out of earshot before starting this conversation, and she sighed.

"Mama…"

"He didn't want to upset you, but Souta would really like it if Inuyasha would join us. The bond he shares with him...you know he's always been like an older brother to him."

"And you're both asking me for permission to invite him along?" she smiled wryly, coming to slump down in a chair at the kitchen table again.

"He's not. He didn't want to hurt you...but he's mentioned it in passing, quite a bit. I am, though. It would mean the world to him, Sweetheart."

Kagome worried her fingers and bit the inside of her lip, her chest slightly pained that they were afraid to invite him along because it would upset her. She knew that the two had always shared a special bond. Inuyasha was the older brother Souta had never had...and he was the brother Inuyasha had always wished he had.

It hurt that her family didn't believe in her ability to keep it together with him for one day for her brother's sake...yet what reason did they have to believe that they could?

Every single time she had ever come in, they had carefully asked just once if she planned to see him. And every time her answer had been no.

She avoided him like the plague.

But...if today was any indication, fate really was forcing him back into her life.

Besides. Souta deserved to have his male role model there. Their grandfather and father died when he was so young...Inuyasha was all he had to look up to. She couldn't take that from him.

"He should be there. We can be civil for an afternoon, if today was any indication," she finally whispered, and her mother reached out to take her hangs, giving them a light squeeze.

"Thank you Sweetie," she grinned warmly. "Why don't you tell him in the morning? It will make his day and I don't think he'd be able to go to sleep now if we told him."

"Sounds good," she nodded. "I...Mama...I want to ask you something. About something Inuyasha said earlier."

Her mother instantly froze and her back straightened. She was apprehensive.

"Oh? What did he say?"

"He implied that things aren't going so well here. That he's been helping out around here a lot? At least enough to know I was dating Zach, and that's not exactly a casual conversation topic…"

Her mother's eyes flashed with slight agitation before she schooled her expression again into casual nonchalance.

"Nothing is wrong, Sweetie. He's offered to help out, and I appreciate his assistance."

"But why did he offer? Mama...come on. You can tell me. I know something is going on. The Takahashi's have a large enough ranch that Inuyasha wouldn't offer help unless there was a good reason...And you look stressed, Mama. You aren't eating right...getting enough sleep...your hair is a mess…"

"Kagome Higurashi, you bite your tongue! I raised you better than to insult your mother!"

"I'm not insulting you, I'm trying to figure out what is going on! Please Mama...I'm not a child. You can confide in me. What's going on here?"

Her mother gave her a long, hard look before sighing and rising to her feet, retrieving two of her father's whisky glasses and a bottle of Jim Beam. She deftly poured two fingers worth into each glass, adding a few ice cubes before setting the drinks down on the old, wooden table.

She sat down, picking up one of the glasses and giving the amber liquid a swirl, trying to chill it a bit faster before taking a sip.

"Kagome...the ranch isn't doing so well. We haven't been for the last year."

"What?" she gasped, pulling her glass closer to her and gripping it tightly between white-knuckled fingers. "What happened?"

"It was just...one thing after another. First we had a rodent infestation in the feed...then Bullseye died of old age, and Bill got sick...we only had Benny left," her mother began, shaking her head as she began to list their tragedies. Bullseye, Bill, and Benny were all of their bulls. And if they were only down to one breeding male, that would make breeding seasons difficult and affect profits. The rodent infestation would have killed off most of their feed...and both replacing the feed and their bulls was expensive.

"Then we had a bout of coyote attacks picking off the calves," her mother continued. "Money got so tight that I had to make some hard decisions. I had to let go of Matthew, Jim, and Kenny. They've found work elsewhere, but it's been hard maintaining this place without their help and with the loan shark breathing down our neck—"

"—Loan shark?!" She squealed. "You went to a loan shark?"

"Kagome, Honey, I was desperate. It's expensive replacing all of that feed...and I was only able to replace one of the bulls to try and keep us going, but it hasn't been digging us out of the hole yet," her mother sighed, taking another long swig from her glass. "The mortgage was due and I didn't have the money, so I did the only thing I could."

Kagome took a few, deep gulps of her drink and ran her fingers through her hair.

"Oh my God," she whispered, leaning forward onto the table. How could her mother have kept this from her? She could have helped! Would have helped! She would have sent back some of her paycheck, would have looked for alternative solutions that didn't involve turning to a loan shark...She would have...she would have done something!

"We will be fine, Sweetheart," her mother soothed, taking another sip from her glass. "Things will be tight, but we've made due before. We will again. I'm...I'm thankful to Inuyasha, though. If it weren't for him...I don't know how we'd be doing if it weren't for him."

"I'm confused. You let go of Matthew, Jim, and Kenny, and hired Inuyasha?"

Her mother shot her a sad smile, tilting her head to the side.

"We didn't hire him, Kagome. He's just been doing. Showed up one day before dawn and had already fed the livestock and collected all the eggs before I even had breakfast made. I insisted on giving him something for his time, but he didn't want anything other than…" She trailed off and closed her eyes sighing.

"Other than what?" Kagome swallowed.

"Other than the occasional update on how you're doing. I think...I think a part of him still loves you, Sweetie."

She couldn't have stopped the bitter laugh from bubbling out of her throat even if she had tried to.

Him? Still in love with her?

Hardly.

Though he had kissed her…She could still feel his lips pressed against hers...

But that was a goodbye.

Wasn't it?

Yes. It was. And she wasn't going to start thinking differently. It would be a mistake if she did.

Sure they had a few moments of...comradery? Civility? Nostalgia? But it wasn't anything more than that. There was enough hostility and thinly veiled barbs to be construed as something more than two people trying to get along for the evening.

"I think you're sorely mistaken, Mama."

Her mother gave her a knowing look, but didn't say more on the subject. "Regardless," she continued, "he's been coming by every morning, helping for as long as he can until he has to go back home and work for his father. I've been making him breakfast, so there's a chance you'll run into him again before Souta's graduation."

Perfect.

There really wasn't any hiding this trip, huh?

"Well...thanks for letting me know," she sighed. "At least I have a head's up this time, right?"

____________________

Had a rough morning (my dog tripped my coming down the stairs and I have a sprained ankle now) so I said FUCK IT and am posting early. I’ll still have stuff for white day.

Wall of tags! Let me know if you want in or out!

(If you get tagged in this post after requesting tags, it’s because that’s how I’m keeping track of them. If you requested a tag and aren’t there, I might not have seen it so please ask again!)

@clearwillow, @keichanz, @dangerouspompadour, @nartista, @kaze-ranna, @superpixie42, @sticky-llama-perfection, @pinkpigeonstudio, @mcornilliac, @itzatakahashi, @zelink-inukag, @juliatheanimelover7, @csim28, @smmahamazing, @the-lucky-ones311, @cyncyn981, @animemomma96, @ayari17, @underwater0phelia, @sailorbabydoll92, @l-taisho29, @clearwillow, @animelove1313, @littlemissinukag

#inuyasha #inukag #inuyasha fanfic #inuyasha fanfiction #inuyashafanfic #DAMNIT CARRA #western #rancer #cattle rancher #clearwillow #lemonlushff #one last ride

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anistarrose · 4 years

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Some Sunny Day Bonus Chapter 3: Seen and Unseen

AO3

Summary: A grove of birch trees on a familiar hill, an encounter in the woods that goes terribly wrong, and two memory guns.

Characters: Stan Pines, Bill Cipher, Ford Pines, Fiddleford McGucket, Blind Ivan

Been a while, huh? I was planning to celebrate the anniversary of finishing this fic with two bonus chapters just stuffed chock full of hurt/comfort, but then life happened (I got a part-time job and also mild insomnia, you know how it is) so enjoy some prequel angst instead! This one is canon to SSD and set in early 1982, shortly after the portal incident.

***

After a scare with frostbite in late February, Stan sets out at the first sign of melting snow to resume his search for the journals. A snowdrift had blocked several trails behind the house last week, but now they’re passable — so long as you don’t mind the overcast weather, and being up to your heels in mud.

Stan had enjoyed hunting for fake treasure and following Ford’s cryptic clues when they would pretend to be adventurers as kids — he’d been good at it, even. But this time, Ford has left him no hand-drawn treasure maps or whimsical riddles — only more ominous clues, like a ransacked, now empty medicine cabinet, or a ripped out journal page about being watched with X-ed out triangles drawn in all the margins. Clues that make Stan feel like throwing up, because they should mean something to him, but he just can’t bring himself to think it through and face the inevitable conclusion.

This is all my fault.

He stumbles to a halt at the foot of a hill, and realizes he’s surrounded by birch trees. He’s surrounded by eyes that never blink — or maybe, he thinks, before he can tell himself he’s going crazy, eyes that only blink when I’m blinking.

The birch trees don’t scare him the way the rest of the forest does — he’s not afraid of some creature or cryptid sneaking up on him here, where the forest is so deathly silent and he’s left all alone with himself. They don’t scare him the way the town does, either — despite everything, he feels less watched here, where there are no strangers shooting him suspicious glares or cloaked figures vanishing around corners and into the shadows.

No, the birch trees set Stan on edge because whenever he sees them — makes eye contact with them? — he knows he’s forgetting something. It’s something important, something horrible, something dangerous — like the fear of having left the stove on, except multiplied by a million. Disaster is impending, and he’s the one to blame.

This is where I belong.

He hates this place, but he’s come this far, so he can’t leave without giving the eerie birch grove a proper search. He doubts that Ford, at the height of his paranoia, would hide a journal on a hill where even the trees could watch him — but if Stan leaves now, and can’t find the journal anywhere else in the valley, he knows he’ll have to revisit this place eventually. He doesn’t ever want to revisit this unpleasant memory again, if he can avoid it.

Setting out to leave no stone unturned, he finds there are few stones on the hill to turn in the first place. There are few hiding places of any sort, nor any signs of recent digging. Stan suddenly regrets throwing out his metal detector all those years ago, and wonders if the other journals have enough brass in them to give a signal —

The hairs on the back of his neck stand up before he realizes why. He knows someone’s coming before he hears the snap of twigs or the hushed voices, the murmur of “look at the footprints, he came this way.”

They’re coming from the direction of his — Ford’s house. They must’ve followed him — or as they believed it, followed Ford out here for a reason.

“Who’s there?” Stan shouts, cringing as he hears how hoarse his voice is. His impression of Ford improves as he adds, “What brings you out here?”

“We could ask the same of you, Dr. Pines,” a deep voice booms as two figures in hooded red robes step into view, one more hesitantly than the other. They both wield identical, uncomfortably gun-shaped contraptions. “Still haven’t given up on your project, have you?”

If these cultists, or assassins, or whatever the hell they are know anything about Ford, then Stan needs to know it too. He takes a measured risk.

“I have a lot of projects. You’ll have to be more specific —”

“Ya know what we mean, Stanford.” It’s the second robed figure who speaks up, the one who’d lagged behind his deep-voiced co-conspirator, and the Southern accent throws Stan for a loop. His words suggest some kind of threat, but his gun-toting arm hangs limp at his side. “I — I didn’t want to do this, I really didn’t — but you’re becomin’ a danger, Ford, a danger to yourself and to everyone. And we — we’re here to stop you.”

“Wait!” Stan holds up his hands, dropping his Ford impression. “You’ve got this all wrong! Ford’s not dangerous, he’s in danger and I’m trying to —”

“Enough excuses!” the first figure barks, raising his gun. “IT IS UNSEEN!”

Blue light beams out of the contraption’s bulb, and Stan instinctively raises a hand to shield himself — but the light bends in midair, as if refracted by an invisible prism. It illuminates the clearing like a flash of lightning, but misses Stan by a mile.

“I told you to wait,” he whispers. He understands nothing about the bending of the light, yet somehow, could not be more certain that he alone had caused it.

“Ford?” the second figure asks, no longer sounding hesitant nor conflicted. There’s only one emotion in that voice, and it’s fear.

His companion, on the other hand, aims again without a word — and the light soars over Stan’s head as he falls to his knees, numb to the pain of the impact. Numb to everything except one thought, one single truth, easier to face than any sort of self-reflection on the power he held.

They think I’m Ford. They tried to hurt Ford. They tried to hurt Ford. They tried to —

He makes a fist with his right hand, and he sees the scene through a hundred new perspectives as sickly yellow eyes blink to life on every birch tree. He makes a fist with his left hand, and the forest comes alive.

The robed figures trip over gnarled roots, one of them even dropping his gun, but the trees continue to animate, trunks bending over and bare branches wrapping themselves around limbs. A wind whips through the grove as the cultists flail, begging as they make eye contact — not with the arboreal limbs ensnaring them, but with Stan’s body itself.

And Stan watches in both complete control, and complete disbelief of it all.

There’s a pressure against his skull, a dam about to burst after holding the flood of memories back for too long. There are leaks already, trickles of information and sparks of blue fire that chill him to his core, as images flash through his mind without coming from the birch trees, or even from his own lifetime.

Ford’s not the dangerous one. I am.

Ford’s the one who’s in danger.

Because of me.

The birches loosen their grip on the cultists, who flee the second they can shake themselves free. Stan’s left alone again, staring himself down with his hundred yellow eyes, and he can see guilt in every one of them.

He rises to a standing position, roots winding around his boots and bark creeping up his mud-soaked pants. He can’t face the world, he can’t face Ford, he can’t face himself knowing what he’s capable of, knowing that he’s the worst of all the monsters lurking in the woods —

As the trees of the grove reshape their roots and the ground shakes from the strain, the dropped gun bounces towards Stan’s feet.

It is unseen, he remembers one of the figures shouting.

He picks it up, inputs birch trees, and holds it to his head as he closes as many of his eyes as he can. Fire burns away his memories, and a deluge of ink-black water rushes in to absorb the ashes and fill their place.

***

Fiddleford McGucket runs for dear life with Ivan hot on his heels, until they reach the museum and barricade themselves inside an empty room, bracing themselves for pursuit. When it doesn’t come, Fiddleford enters a name into the memory gun, starting over several times after his trembling fingers betray him.

“Just — just another monster to erase,” Ivan stammers, “with a more human name than most.”

Fiddleford finally gets the spelling right. Two flashes of light with the input screen reading Stanford Pines, and memories of the day’s encounter — and then some — go up in flames.

It is unseen.

***

Stan is kneeling at the muddy base of an even muddier hill, surrounded by trees that look like they’re staring at him.

Or maybe, eyes that only blink when I’m — never mind. That’s ridiculous.

On the ground in front of him is a strange kind of gun, with a lightbulb in place of the barrel. He thinks he’s glimpsed some robed, vaguely cult-looking types carrying these around in town before, so after staggering to his feet, he smashes the device beneath his boot.

He has a feeling he’s forgetting something important again, but he can’t be bothered to try and remember again. He can’t bear to think about it any longer.

***

End notes:

This hill with the birch trees is the same one where Ford took a nap and first met Bill, so needless to say, Stan’s gut instinct about Ford not hiding any journals in a place like this was dead-on.

I have a lot more bonus content planned for this series, like the two-parter I alluded to in the earlier notes, but I’ve got no idea when any of that’s coming aside from a cautiously optimistic estimate of “later in 2020.” Once again, I’m so grateful for all the support you guys have given this fic from the beginning just over two years ago, to the “ending” exactly one year ago, all the way up through today :’)

#gravity falls #same coin theory #stanley pines #bill cipher #fiddleford mcgucket #stanford pines #blind ivan #fic: some sunny day #rosalia writes fic

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dracula-in-purple-story · 3 years

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Trick and Treat

The benefits of being underground heroes means no one would recognise you. A fact that three certain heroes (plus a sentient quirk) exploit it mercilessly.

Halloween. An event where people of all kinds get to excuse themselves for pranks and indulged themselves with tooth-rotting candy. It’s also a certain event where two gothic-theme heroes are free to cursed their mothers for bringing them to life far too soon or far too late.

“That’s not a reason to cursed my in-laws, Fumi, Shi.” Shoji Mezou huffed before turning two of his appendages to mouths as to pecked his gloomy husbands. Shoji-Tokoyami Fumikage, who draped himself with a dark cloak and held a handmade scythe, fumed pettily alongside with Shoji-Kuroiro Shihai, who decided to wrapped themselves an equally as black bandages.

“Mezou love, I didn’t agree to marry you to hear you stand in defence for our mothers who let us down for the first time in the beginning of our lives.”

“Fumi’s right in a way. If only they could at least put in more effort on giving birth before the sacred event had ended-”

“Or wait a bit more longer-”

“Okay, guys. I kinda didn’t agree to waste my day off on listening to your brooding. So, could we get moving?” Ojiro Tooru wiggled around in her plain-white cloth while exaggerated her frustration, earning some laughs among her husbands.

“Take care and have fun, Ruru,” Mashirao softly spoke as he setting up the makeshift pillow fort around Hitoshi. The Ojiro husbands decided to spend their rare day off to watch horror marathon with the main Shoji patriarch.

The invisible lady just giggled before dragging off the other Shoji husbands for their play dates. Mezou waved them off, even blew the sentient quirk a kiss back, before settling down besides the pillow fort.

“Five thousand yens they come back with more candies than they are allow to have.”

“Six thousand.”

“Bet.”

“Toshi! Mezou!”

~~~~~~~~~~

“Any gummy packets? All I got is candy corns.” the boy with four arms and dressed as Red Riot grimaced.

“Nope, I only got two packets of strawberry marshmallows and some Miruko-branded carrot candies, Red Riot Junior. What about you, Deku Junior?” the green-skinned girl dressed as Shemage quietly answered before glancing at the bulking boy with scales that dressed as the Symbol of Hope.

He smirked before lifting up his bucket, making the other kids jaw dropped. In there, three huge packets of Bakusquad-branded fruity gummies, five king-sized Fatgum-branded chocolate bars, two swirly red and white lollipops, and a box of bite-sized candy bars themed after Pre-Debut UA Class A.

“Impressive, huh?”

“No jokes, Ken- I mean, Deku Junior! How?!” the Red Riot ‘Junior’ tried to reach out before getting his hand slapped by the now-sneering boy.

“Don’t touch it! Anyways, I just roamed around the neighbourhood that filled with old farts who got too much money to spend. One glance at my mega awesome costume then they throwing me prizes after prizes!” The scaly boy exclaimed proudly as he showed off his goods, “Wish you have this amazing influence than some two-bits characters you two decided to dressed as!”

“You got some nerves insulting the chivalrous hero and the mushroom heroine, kid.” All three kids quickly turned towards the voice down the alley. Seeing that it’s someone who decided that draping a white blanket is a good enough costume, the boy scoffed rudely.

“What, blanket girlie, you think you have the rights to tell me off when you have a lame ass costume?” “Wrong, it’s an awesome costume!” the blanket girlie huffed out her chest proudly, “You just didn’t see what is under these ghost sheets.”

“Ghost sheets?” the green girl snickered, “Yeah, right.”

“Why don’t we check it out, eh?” the four-arms boy grinned at the Deku cosplayer, who smirked back as he reached out to pull the sheets. As he did so, the kids paled. There is... nothing under the sheet. Not even the girl who is supposed to be draped over.

Suddenly, eerie radio screeches can be heard behind the ghost(?). Two little lights are flashing red at where the head are supposed to be located. The lackeys, scared out of their wits, dropped their buckets as they ran away, leaving the leader behind.

“You took a look under my sheet, and now...” the ghost(?) floated even higher, “YOU HAVE BEEN CURSED! MUAHAHAHA!”

“AAAAA!” the scaly brute dashed off immediately after throwing his bucket at the ghost(?). As the boy disappeared down the street, Tooru immediately emptied out the buckets into her Invisible Bag, which is almost filled to the brimmed with her delicious loots. Hearing another group of little trick-or-treaters coming in her way, she immediately set into her position.

~~~~~~~~~~

This is just plain stupid. This horror story telling is too repetitive. The dead girl in the toilet. The spooky piano that plays on its own. The suicide forest. Sure they can scared and spooked Hanako at first but listening to these stories over and over again seems to lose its charm.

Her peers didn’t seem to think so. Sitting in a badly formed circle in the middle of an empty park with an electric candle right in the middle of the said circle. Some third-rated spooky music supposedly to put people in the mood to get scared.

“... and there she sat, drinking the boy’s blood like a drug!”

“You sure this is a true story? Sounds fake.”

“Totes not! Search ‘blood drinking girl’, man!”

Even if it’s a true story, Hanako doubt the legality of the story. If this T.H. girl supposedly love this guy, she should kill those girls instead of the boy. Eh, she shouldn’t question it.

“Sooooo, who’s next?”

“Can I have a turn?”

“Sure!”

A husky voice chuckled, making the horror-numb girl trembled. That was new to her, not one of her peers sound like that. Even her seat partners shivered too.

“Let’s see, anyone ever heard of a certain narcissistic man who killed anyone who said he’s ugly?”

Oh, this is new. Perhaps her peers didn’t disappoint her yet. After affirmation, the rasping voice continued. Due to the light is too dimmed, she was unable to see who’s telling the tale with such voice.

“There was once a man, with a face no one could ever compare to. His visual is second to none. Women praised him, loved him, worshipped him. Men hated him, cursed him, and some even fell for him.”

Hanako lighted up. A total original story! She listened with rapt attention, ignoring how her horny peers groaned and moaned at the suggestively rough voice.

“One unfortunate event is all it took for people to turned away from the man. An arson planned by envious men who couldn’t take it anymore, seeing their supposedly lawful spouses dreamed and loved a man that isn’t them. How envy drove them mad. The damage is dealt. His entire body is burnt to crisps and yet, he lived.”

The music stopped. Before the person in charge of it could fix it, it suddenly played an ominous song that she had never heard before. She didn’t know that the harsh-sounding peer have good taste in music.

“Truly unfortunate it is. The once handsome man lost all his supporters in one whole swoop. His haters jeered and hurling faux-pity at him. He couldn’t take it anymore. Wrapped in his measly black-burnt bandages, he asked each and every single one of the people, ‘Am I handsome? Am I gorgeous?’. People jabbed jokes at him before they get stabbed to death.”

Hanako is curling into her jacket as the air getting chilly. Weird, as inattentive as she was, no one have a quirk related to wind. Now she think about it, not even one of them have a husky voice, even the her male peers are just getting their puberty hit on them.

“One by one, they dropped to their death. Even children and the senile were not spared. The man went mad with his vanity spiralled out. He asked, he cried, he stabbed. Then, he came onto a group of teens who sat around in a circle telling stories after stories. Can I ask?”

The girl suddenly felt dread coursed over her body. She thinks some of her peers piss themselves. Before anyone could react, the electrical candle went off. Hanako quickly reached out to turned it on and, lo and behold, a man wrapped in black-burnt bandages stood in the middle of the circle.

“Am I handsome?” the man who owned said husky voice gleamed at them with flashing black eyes, “Am I... gorgeous?”

Screams could be heard throughout the neighbourhood. When people found the source of said scream, teens would either huddled up or straight up fainted. The only thing missing among them are the candies they collected. Hanako might cried a bit, but whoever that man is, he earned himself a fan.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Happy Halloween!”

Waving off the kids, Mrs Gokudera beamed at her almost empty candy-bowl. Ever since her grandkids started their high schools, they almost never visit her in this lonely home, which makes this holiday truly joyful. Just as she was about to filled the candy-bowl with her homemade striped candy balls, her doorbell rang. Sighing blissfully, she opened up the door.

Instead of little children, few masked people appeared the other side of the door. Mrs Gokudera usually pleased to see that other people enjoyed the good old trick-or-treating but her quirk, Intentions, alerted her as she saw them with dangerously black aura.

“Heya, old lady. Trick or-”

“Definitely trick, imbeciles.”

Interrupting the one who started to sprouted blades out of their arms, the group of masked people turned towards the other side. Mrs Gokudera couldn’t see who it was as the malicious people blocked her sights but she saw a white aura coming out from that person. Knowing she was in good hands, she immediately slammed her door and dialled the police. As she dare peeked out of the window, she gawked at a hooded figure fighting against people with an obviously fake scythe and a manifested shadow(?) that seems to basked in the chaos.

When the police arrived, the fight is over. The hooded figure and his shadow companion came out unscathed but his prop is broken. Sensing his frustration through a grey aura, Mrs Gokudera beckoned the bird-headed figure, who seems to finished his statement to the police.

“Hello, dearie. You okay?”

“Don’t worry, madam. We are perfectly fine. Although we had to cut short our fun due to this unholy festive spirits that decided to bother you.” the hooded figure solemnly nodded.

“Oh dear. Sorry to cause you trouble.”

The shadow companion seems to beamed at her loudly, “Don’t worry, lady! We are heroes! This is nothing!”

Ah, that explains why the police didn’t bother him for vigilantism. Clearing her thoughts up, she thanked him by giving most of her stashes. It’s really funny seeing how the bird-headed hero humbly accepted while the shadow just cackled in delight as they dumped the wrapped candy balls into their goody bags.

~~~~~~~~~~

“We are back, hubbies!”

“Welcome ba- why are there ten gigantic bags? Did you guys steal them?”

The three trick-or-treaters sheepishly chuckled as they got stared down by the tail hero. Behind Mashirao, Mezou handed a few paper money to Hitoshi, who tried to snickered quietly before got stared down by his disappointed husband too.

#Boku no Hero Academia #BNHA #Shoji Mezo #Tokoyami Fumikage #Hagakure Tooru #Ojiro Mashirao #Shinso Hitoshi #Kuroiro Shihai #Shotoko #Shitoko #Shokuro #Shotokokuro #Shinoji #Ojitooru #Shintooru #Shinojitooru #draculainpurple

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miss-choco-chips · 4 years

Text

Put a ring on it

I’m not sure what this is, everyone. Had it on my docs for a while, got bored during work and thought ‘what if I just post this?’, and here we are. Basically the Core Four being loving and caring (and spiteful).

Shout out to @animemangasoul who pumped me up about this and @the-quiet-carrotcake and @iphoenixrising for letting me cry to them the Titans loving Tim.

Can be read as either ship or friendship

------.------

When shit went down, Wally and Roy made sure they were nowhere near the planet. A nice little interplanetary fuckery called for anyone free, and both of them had magically clean schedules, so off they went, praying to every god they knew about (and, with how many holy disasters they had faced between them, there were a lot) to be back after the worst of the mess had blown over.

Even if it meant missing the undoubtedly hilarious face Batman would make when he found out. Not even the chance of witnessing that was worth staying and waiting with bated breath until someone pointed out that, in the end, it was both their faults.

-So let me get this straight.

-Difficult for me, but go on.

Wally rolled his eyes, chucking a pillow at his little dude, wondering how Nightwing could do this with not one, not two, but three badly adjusted little brothers (and that without counting the girls, though, to be honest, they already had Babs). Truly, a hero of the ages. Arsenal just cackled from his place in front of the coffee table, where he was keeping them company and cleaning his equipment.

-I’m serious. I’ve never seen you this mad without a bad guy to blame for it.

-Well…

-As furious as you are at them, Bart, they are still the good guys.

-Debatable.

Wally threw another pillow, and Bart, arms crossed and all but vibrating on the couch, didn’t even bother on dodging. Just moved his particles quick enough that the thing went straight through him.

Arsenal raised an eyebrow at them- It’s scary when you do that. Like a freaking ghost.

-It’s scary that Tim’s whole family can be this level of neglectful, but you don’t see me bitching at them.

-Only because you know they’ll give you your ass back to you in a silver platter after they are done whooping it -interjected the older speedster, snack bag on his lap, a few more by the ground at his feet, sitting as close to Bart as the whole ‘don’t touch, I bite’ aura he had around him would allow.

-Kinky.

This time, Wally’s pillow was aimed at the archer. Roy just dodged without looking, still cross legged on the other side of the little table facing the couch.

-Real talk now, it’s not like they are jerks on purpose. We all know the Bats are on a whole new level of ‘always busy’, it’s to be expected they wouldn’t have time for social niceties.

Wally winced, scooting a little further away from Bart when he looked up to glare at Roy. That wasn’t a nice look. That was a ‘I can take you to someplace no one would hear you scream in less than ten seconds’ look.

-My seventeen year old best friend managed to finish high school after having to take a year off to go look for his missing mentor, going through several different mourning processes and dodging a frankly creepy cradle robber of a ninja terrorist, all while kicking ass and taking names, taking care of a huge as hell company, and keeping up the intel guy work for the rest of his shitty family. And he still graduated early. The least they could do after the fuckery he was put through by their collective stupidity would be go as moral support, but no. No, other things are more important than such a big milestone on his life. Fuckers.

Wound down after the rant, Bart dropped back on the couch, shrinking in place, oozing contempt from every pore.

Roy raised his eyes to share a look with Wally. Even if the bro code meant they were contractually obligated to defend their respective best friends, there was undeniable truth to Bart’s statement. Jason had gone on killing sprees for far less than Tim’s situation, and God knows Dick would have showed a big middle finger at his mentor and go off world with the Titans as a protest at the slightest fight. All in all, Red Robin was taking it like a champ.

-Jason’s busy with the Torinelli drug cartel thingie -tried Roy nonetheless, loyal as one could be.

Wally nodded- And Dick had already promised Damian to go on a camping-training trip that weekend...

-Great. So criminals that aren’t going anywhere and the ‘favorite’ demon child are more important than my best friend’s graduation, which isn’t even a long thing, just a couple hours and a few photos. Awesome. Do you happen to know Batman’s excuse? I mean, I’m sure is equally as shitty as his sons’ excuses, but, you know. Variety and stuff.

Wally sighed, because yeah, point. Were it Bart’s graduation, nothing short of the end of the world would have kept him from going, but, again, he only had one little dude to worry about. Dick’s house was full.

-You’ll be there -tried Roy, dropping his arrow back on the table and resting his crossed arms next to it, leaning forward to look straight at Bart-, you and the rest of the brats, right? Supes and Diana’s babies. You guys may not be related like that, but that’s not necessary for you to be family.

Like the Teen Titans were, went unsaid- the older heroes exchanged a glance, reminiscent of their days fighting side by side under Dick’s unwavering leadership. No matter where they were now, that’s where they both came from.

-Yeah -accepted Bart, but the frown hadn’t left his face-. It’s just. His parents are dead, his ‘foster’ bat-family are dicks. He has us, yeah, but… I wished he could have his family there, you know. Like, if I could adopt him, I would, just so he can have that.

Wally dropped the empty snack bag onto the ground and took a new one, tipping it in Bart’s direction as a peace offering- I mean, it’s still a month away, maybe one of them would clear his schedule and go? Probably not all of them, but anything’s better than nothing, right?

Bart harrumphed, hunching even lower in the couch, pout still present.

-If anything else fails -joked Roy, going back to cleaning his stuff-, I hear Kara’s single right now, and Tim’s an emancipated minor. Get them to marry each other, and then your Super friend is technically his brother- or something like that. Political families still counts.

Bart went still for a second, and if Wally were less invested in his snack and more on the thoughtful expression on his face, he might have known ahead of time that his next words were a bad, bad idea.

-And if she’s not on board, you could always ask someone else on your team. Team as family and all that shit, Tim would literally be marrying into the fam. Want some chips?

But Bart was already gone.

-Huh? -blinked Roy- Where'd he run to?

-...

-...You don't think he…

-What? No. No, of course not, they aren't so dumb...

For a horrible second, Roy and Wally crossed eyes again, both remembering the stupid shit they got up to when they were seventeen, and replayed the conversation. Their jokes, that anyone with half a brain would take as that, as silliness. Then came the thought that being stupid was almost a requirement for being a Titan.

With the kind of synchronicity one could only have after fighting side by side for years, they both jumped to their feet at the same time.

-I’ll hit Kori up, maybe she has some alien fuckery to deal with and we can tag along.

-Imma call Supes and let him know we’ll be off planet for a while. Shit, Dick’s gonna flip. He was the big B for a while, he knows stuff. Painful stuff.

-Dude, he at least doesn’t kill. Jay has guns, and it’s his favorite brother we’re talking about.

A shiver went through them when Batman’s reaction came to mind.

-If Kori’s not dealing with something, I’ll ask her to start shit up somewhere far, far away to give us an excuse to leave either way. She’s a goddess like that, she’ll help.

-Good thinking. I’ll start packing.

---.----

The secret meeting was held at one of Tim’s safe houses, because it had enough lead on the walls there was no risk of Superman overhearing them. Not that the owner of the place was aware of it; no one was, besides Cassie, Kon and Bart themselves. Keeping it hush hush was vital for the success of the mission.

-All on board then?

Kon’s smile could light up a town- Hell yeah dude. I’ll take care of getting Tim time off from work. Tam knows me and I’m fairly sure she doesn’t hate me as strongly as she does the bats. Fair warning though, she might ask to come with.

-She’s cool, so I’m in. We’re gonna need a witness anyway.

Cassie nodded, fierce smirk and challenge in her eyes- This is gonna piss so many people. Hey, do you think if we let Oracle in the know she’ll give us footage of the bats' faces when they find out?

Bart bit his lip- As crash as that would be, I don’t think it’s worth the risk.

Cassie deflated, but then shrugged it off- We’ll ask Tim, then. He’s as good as her with hacking, I’m sure he’ll figure something out.

-If he doesn’t kill us first, you mean.

-Don’t be a coward, Kon. I thought you were in.

-I’m not saying I’m backing down, just that we should put our business in order in case he snaps and murders us in cold blood. I know he has it in him, if pushed the right ways.

She nodded, because point. The almost feral look on her face wasn’t gone, though- Worth it. I'll be in charge of clothes. You reckon there's any chance I can get a dress on him?

-Sure, if you want him to actually break his no kill rule.

-Fine, but he's wearing white anyway. It goes well with his skin tone.

Bart extended his first for her to bump- Now you're talking. I'll be the extraction man and take him to the place.

Kon crossed his arms, looking conflicted for the first time- We can't go the classic way about it, because a fake name would mean he won't take seriously what we're trying to do, and if we use his real one in a formal document, it'll hit the news before the ink has a chance to dry. And then he'll kill us for sure.

-You're awfully worried about him drawing blood, Blue. What gives?

-He's scared shitless of Cassie and you're too adorable to hurt, but me? I'm the one he's gonna focus his rage on, and you know how he gets when at his limit.

Cassie snorts- He can't live without you, you dork. I think we are all safe. And anyways, the plan is to make him too drunk to walk on a straight line, he wouldn't be able to hurt us.

-You say that -interjected Bart, getting up from where he was crouching above their carefully spread, color coded sheets of plans; Tim would be so proud- but I've seen the dude drop kick someone with a broken leg once. He can fuck shit up no matter the situation.

-True… still, we are doing it, right?

-Oh yeah, for sure, I just wanted everyone aware that it might be our last big bang.

-Then we better make sure it's one hell of an explosion, am I right?

-Hell yeah.

-This is gonna be so crash!

----.----

The entire thing had gone something like this.

On friday, Tam made Tim turn around and head back home the second he showed his face at the office, claiming the bags under his eyes clashed terribly with her new Prada handbag and she’d rather had it than him around. In Foxspeak, it meant ‘go the fuck to sleep or so help me God’. Tim would have fought back just on principle, but Tam had him at a standstill, because the spleen thing could very easily reach Alfred’s ears if he crosses her, and no one (him) wants that. As if to make sure he would obey, she demanded they share the car that would take her to the airport (did she have some meeting out of Gotham? He couldn’t remember) and dropped him at his Perch on her way there.

He wasn’t actually planning on sleep, maybe work some of his cases from home, start patrol early, possibly tracking Jason down to offer his help for the drug cartel thing. Confused by the unexpected way his morning had gone so far, he was woefully underprepared for a flash of red and yellow to whisk him from his living room the second he put his carrier bag on the ground.

It was only years from using his team as glorified uber drives what kept him from nerve striking Bart on reflex. Knowing whatever he asked would be lost to the background sound of super fast travelling, he merely slumped over the thin shoulder he was thrown over and waited till they reached their destination.

Which… he wasn’t expecting Vegas.

The next few hours were a blur of his team explaining they had planned this gateaway as an early graduation party, hugs and a few grateful tears on his part, and booze. So much booze. He was trained by Batman, he had a bigger than average resistance to… well, everything, and still, he got so, so wasted.

Saturday’s hungover was cured with more booze. They hit casino after casino, danced over tables, payed a bar owner to close for the night and let them work their way through his entire supply, went to some neon party at someone’s exceedingly large hotel suite (the guy wasn’t getting his deposit back), his cellphone was thrown on a fountain after Cassie got sick of it going off again and again with Dick’s predetermined ringtone, drank some more, were kicked out of yet another casino...

At some point Tam appeared (a very drunk Tim had hugged her and spun her around so fast her stilettos went flying and almost blinded someone), and they all went back to the hotel, where Kon basically manhandled him into a white suit. More booze when Tim started asking questions, followed by a two hour long stay at some park were Cassie, Bart and Kon took turns holding his hand, and then each others’, with Tam saying something about bonds, and family, and sickness, and health in the background, Kon muttering something in kryptonian and making Tim repeat it, Cassie dropping to one knee and sprouting some Amazonian speech, Bart jumping on his back after his own speech (futuristic laws and all) was done, then more booze, partying and….

Well, everything was a blur, before and after that.

They woke up saturday morning with the worst headache, in a undignified puppy pile back at their suit, minus Tam who apparently had her own room. Kon’s TTK took care of the blinds and Tim blinked awake at the sound (Robin instincts), looked at his sleeping friends and then went back to sleep, head pillowed by Bart’s butt, with Cassie’s knee denting his ribs and Kon’s arm thrown over his neck, completely disregarding the three rings hanging from his shiny new necklace.

That was a problem for sober Tim to solve.

---.----

Monday morning, Tim went back to the office, Tam by his side, acting like everything was perfectly fine.

Dick called after lunch asking about his whereabouts that past weekend, claiming he was missed during patrol, but backed down when informed he was actually relaxing with his friends. Bruce didn’t ask, probably had tracked him down the second he couldn’t find him and let him be after realizing he was at Las Vegas.

Everyone that saw them walking down WE’s hallways would have swore a trail of classic music followed them, graceful and elegant.

In Tim’s mind, however, the background sound was the kill bill sirens and blaring red lights.

Tam felt like a queen, coming back after conquering treacherous lands.

Tim felt like Jason may have been onto something when he died.

----.----

When the Big Day (capital letters included) arrived, and Tim got into the stage to accept his diploma (Honor Student, of course), his eyes automatically went to the loud, rowdy teenagers, sitting as close to the front as possible, cheering and smiling.

He was far enough that it could’ve been a trick of the light, but he thought he could see all three of them going misty-eyed. His own eyes watered when he shook the headmaster's hand and posed with his diploma for the cameras (Wayne Heir Graduating would be trending on every magazine by dinnertime), his friends never stopping yelling his name.

When the time came to throw the little hats, he catched by the corner of his eye how Bart held both Cassie’s and Kon’s hands, keeping them from flying in their emotion. If one paid close attention, their feet actually were floating juuust above the ground. They were just so genuinely excited for him, it was… it was amazing.

After as little smalltalk as possible with his classmates, he sneaked away into some hidden spot, away from prying cameras, and waited. Sure enough, his best friends were there barely ten seconds later, and using that same speed, they swept him off his feet. Bart was the first, latching to his front, Kon a close second jumping on his back and hugging his head. Cassie, ever the showoff, threw her hands around the three of them and spun them around as if they weighted nothing to her. That was probably the case.

-You did it, you did it, you did it!!!! Oh my god, this is so crash!!!

-Not that we had any doubt, with that big brain of yours. Making a girl so proud.

-Speak for yourself. Personally, I feared the worst. This is Gotham, after all.

-But nothing happened! And you GRADUATED!

Tim let out a laugh, allowing himself to just feel joy. Letting them see him like that, as payment for being the most awesome friends (family) in existence, he returned the hug, squeezing back as strongly as his non meta arms could.

Then, a voice behind them that he absolutely didn't expect- Congratulations, Master Timothy.

Without letting any of them go, Cassie turned around, so they could all see Alfred Pennyworth, in his Sunday’s best, looking proud and warm, his eyes glazed over with nostalgia when they landed on his young charge. One of the young men he had the honor to watch grow into the amazing person he was today.

Even more surprising, he held a tablet on his arms, screen facing them, with a familiar figure there, white streak and leather but no firearms, probably cautious of possible civilians around.

-Hey, baby bird. Sorry ‘couldn’t be ther’ p’rsonally. Hope ya don’t mind me an’ Alfie crashing like this.

-A-Alfred? Jason? What… I thought you were in Russia!!

The man on the screen scratched the back of his head, visibly uncomfortable but determined.

-Am, actually. But it’s yer big day, babybird. Wouldn’t missit for the world.

Tim’s already watery eyes just overflowed.

-----.----

It took a month for shit to hit the fan. Tim was honestly impressed, because things rarely went his way, and getting more than a few hours to mentally prepare for Disaster? Unheard of. What a shocker.

When it did went down, it was in large part because he was milking the ‘no metas in Gotham’ rule that kept his team at bay and allowed him to go days without sleeping. Kon would say it was karmatic retribution for ignoring their orders to relax and take it easy. He would protest, but really, how to deny the truth; if not for his sleep deprivation, his secret would have gone a lot longer without being unveiled.

Between hacking into Lexcorp, running the dna samples he took during patrol half an hour ago on the database and finishing his report of the night, he was out of fucks to give. Damian bitching on his ear was the last drop.

-...And your mere presence here is an insult to Grayson's legacy. He founded it, Todd died for it, what did you even contribute to it?

A slow blink. Tim was aware his brain to mouth filter was as good as gone, but tired as he was, he just didn't care.

-Besides providing the brains on this whole fucking operation? Pants, I guess. Common sense. Ninja skills commended by your own grandfather, the king of ninjas. Virtue, too, since Dick is a verified hoe and Jason slept with your/

-C'mon Timmy -cut in Dick, Nightwing suit halfway down his chest, when Damian's face was turning an alarming shade of blue- aren't you a little old to be fighting a kid?

-Who are you calling kid?!

Typical, big bro to the rescue. Tim was too tired to be disappointed that once again Dick was siding with an eleven year old bully that kept harassing Tim. Never mind that he had been minding his business before Damian came to bark at him.

-Boys -chided Bruce and, huh, Tim had said that out loud. Whatever, not like it wasn't true. Fuck them.

-Fuck you -he told… Bruce? Dick? Definitely Damian, too- all.

-Tim! -gasped Dick. Still half naked. Standing right by Damian's side.

That kid was going to have a very uncomfortable sexual awakening any day now.

-SHUT UP, DRAKE! YOU ARE DISGUSTING!

Wow he really needed to stop talking out loud.

-Tim -And now Bruce was walking towards them, frown firmly in place- you are obviously too tired, if you can't control what comes out of your mouth. Go to sleep.

Tim hissed at him. Dick looked too shocked to answer but Bruce, somewhat used to that reaction of the sleep deprived teen, loomed even more.

-I'm an emancipated adult. I control your company. I live on my own. You're not the boss of me.

Now even Damian was looking at him open mouthed. Whatever. The computer pinged with his results, just as his phone did with his 'The hubbies and waifus' group chat.

-What's gotten into you, kiddo? -now Dick was worried, throwing an arm around his shoulders. Still half naked, that was an important detail.

Tim shrugged him away.

-Fucking demon spawn coming from nowhere to fuck with me just for the hell of it puts me in a bad mood, I'm weird like that -he deadpaned, replying to the group chat one handed- And the rest of this fucked up team siding with him just because he's a bad word away from a violent psychotic break doesn't help. Fuck off and let me do my shit, and I'll be out of your hair before you know it.

And then, with a sneer, ignoring both Bruce's and Dick's flabbergasted expressions, Damian said what would be Tim's down fall.

-Go to hell, Drake.

A ping made Tim look down at his phone and he replied without thinking, one hand tapping away at the screen- Wait, let me ask my wife.

A beat of silence. One sneer, one grunt, one surprised gasp.

Bruce made a half step towards him- Tim, what/?

A ping.

-She says no. Hang on, let me get you a second opinion, just to be safe.

-Timmy, what do you mean/?

Another one.

-Husband number one says no, too. Husband number two hasn't replied, probably asleep or traveling somewhere, but two already win by majority. It seems it's a ‘no’ on going to hell for me. Bummer, it would have been funny seeing your homeland, brat.

-...

-Aaaaand that’s my cue to interrupt -announced a new voice above them all. Kon, phone at hand, looked down with half amused, half guarded expression-. Someone hasn’t held their end of the deal and slept eight hours, huh, bud?

Tim, ignoring his family that hadn’t yet recovered from the bomb, shrugged- I slept eight hours. This past week. You never said they had to be consecutive hours.

The super just sighed and landed long enough to haul a too tired to resist bird in his arms- I can see you aren’t getting any sleep in Gotham. Let’s go back to the Tower, Cassie wants us to see The Princess Bride with her again.

-Don’t lie to me, you liar.

-Bart wan/

-Look at my face and tell me the truth.

-Okay, I want to see The Princess Bride again -he conceded, taking flight towards the closest exit, sleepy bird cocooned in his arms and TTK- Later, bats!

-...

Finally, Dick snapped back to reality, although the background noise in his head was one would expect in suspense movies right before the assassin jumped a unsuspecting protagonist- ...did he say ‘husbands’? As in, married?

-...

-AS IN MORE THAN ONE?

----.----

#Tim drake #kon el kent #cassie sandsmark #bart allen #tam fox #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #damian wayne #Alfred Pennyworth #core four #crack wedding

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louiserandom · 4 years

Text

Raffle prize! :3

echoes of the stars

for: the amazing, sweet and supportive @edthemastershark💙

Rating: T

Pairing: MadaTobi

A/N: very belated prize >.> didn’t realize how busy I’d be, but I hope you still enjoy it, Ed :3

P.S. about other prizes: @kitsunesongs, I’m struggling to make your fic short and coherent but might just end up with a fluff-angsty wall of plot... we’ll see how it goes😃 and @benzen-c6h6, THERE SHALL BE MERMAIDS😍

Meow :3 Read on AO3 or continue under the cut!

———

“You’re far away,” Madara’s amused voice wrests Tobirama’s mind away from his musings.

Tobirama looks over to his partner, allowing himself a tentative smile.

“Just thinking,” he says.

“Not about me, it seems,” Madara says, fake pout and all, “unacceptable.”

Tobirama simply rolls his eyes. “Allow me to correct this gravest of missteps. Truly, a travesty.”

Madara opens his mouth, probably to drop another quip, and Tobirama promptly shuts it with a kiss, a habit that’s engrained in him by now, despite the lingering novelty of their relationship. Hot lips brush against his, and an equally fiery chakra rushes to meet Tobirama’s ice-cold signature, both sensing the other’s mounting pleasure, the energy tantalizing as their chakras coalesce. Tobirama leans back against the rock behind him and tugs Madara into his lap, coaxing his lips open and earning a delectable moan that makes him feel all kinds of fuzzy and tingly.

Words he’d never thought he’d use to describe his once well-controlled feelings, but it seems Anija’s sappy wording is rubbing off on him now that he finds himself falling for his once enemy, later friend, later best friend and now—

They draw away for breath, then sink into another kiss, as slow and languid as the first, which does nothing to quell the desire Tobirama feels simmering in the base of his stomach. It takes all his self-restraint not to whine as Madara pulls away once more.

“I love,” Madara’s voice hitches, “l-love when you do that. But better stop unless you want our first time to be in public.”

“We’re hardly in public,” Tobirama says, running his hands along Madara’s sides, “but—I really wouldn’t like to do this on top of Anija’s head statue.”

“Ah, right,” Madara remembers what spot they’ve chosen for their night picnic. “Well, first, someone could see through the genjutsu. And yes, your brother can go to hell with this stupid fucking head. I forgot that it’s already finished. There’s no escaping it, is there?” he laments, probably wondering exactly how much Hashirama’s going to pout if he smacks the engraving off with his Susanoo.

“Don’t you have perfect memory?”

“Haven’t looked at it with the Sharingan yet,” Madara says, long-suffering, “so I can make my brain forget it.

Tobirama lets out a laugh. “Lucky you. I had to deal with eidetic memory most of my childhood and had no way of turning it off. Every one of Anija’s embarrassing antics, heaps upon heaps of his atrocious handwriting and every single one of his whiny rants embedded in my memory. It was a nightmare.”

“Ouch,” Madara sympathizes, “my condolences for your childhood psyche.” He tilts his head to the side. “What changed?”

“Memory becomes more abstract over time,” Tobirama explains. “It hasn’t been studied widely, but some children are able to remember scenes in great detail, regardless of clan or dōjutsu. It can be… unsettling.”

“Especially if it’s memories from a battlefield?” Madara asks, bit hesitant.

“Oh, definitely.” Tobirama looks to the side, hands still playing with the hem of Madara’s haori.

Madara raises his hand, in turn, to caress Tobirama’s cheek, turning him back to face him.

“Is that what you were thinking about?”

Tobirama shakes his head. “Never mind. Seriously. It’s unimportant.”

“It is to me,” Madara insists. “And it’s not that—I mean, you don’t have to share whatever it is with me, but just…” He sighs, dark eyes glinting with moonlight as they stare imploringly at Tobirama. “Talk to someone about it? Please?”

Tobirama chuckles, burying his head into Madara’s chest to hide the blush he can feel warming his cheeks, so unused he is to genuine care that doesn’t come either from Anija or Tōka. And there’s that fluttering feeling again, making his heart race and rendering his thoughts incoherent. It’s unfair, what this man does to him. Illegal, the power he holds over his heart after just a few months of a tentative relationship.

“It’s not that,” Tobirama says, clasping his lover’s hands in his, “I trust you enough to share my worries with you, Madara. But I mean it when I say it really is… It’s fine.”

Madara huffs. “That is not the voice of someone who is fine.”

“That is the voice of someone who is just slightly bothered. By mundane things. Like a sprain or a lost kunai.”

“Did you sprain yourself or lose a kunai?”

“No.”

“Then you’re bullshitting me,” Madara announces, pulling his hands away and crossing his arms. “And I demand to know what—or who—upset you.”

Tobirama eyes him, suspicious. “If it is… someone, would you scare them half to death like the Hyūga that dared proposition me that time?” he asks, voice leaking derision.

“So it is someone! I knew it!” Madara says and, completely ignoring the question, demands, “Now, who do I have to kill?”

“No one,” Tobirama says, chuckling, “murder is off-limits, Madara. No death threats. No inciting interclan hostility because you think I can’t take care of an asshole on my own.”

“I never thought that,” Madara argues, shifting so he’s snuggled up with almost no space between them, laying head onto Tobirama’s shoulder. “I just wanted to take care of him myself. Because, uh, I hate assholes with a burning passion.”

“Uh huh.”

“I was born to fight them.”

“Right.”

“Destined by fate.”

“Oh really?” Tobirama feigns contemplation. “Well, in that case, I hope you’re not inflicting too much self-harm.”

It takes all of a second for Madara to get it, after which he pulls away and proceeds to tackle Tobirama onto the blanket they’ve strewn over the ground and tickles him, wordless but determined, taking no pity as Tobirama is overwhelmed by fits of tearful laughter.

“Fuck—Madara,” Tobirama breathes through huffs of laughter, “please—haha—stop godsdammit!”

“I’m an asshole,” Madara says wryly, “why would I listen to you?”

He does, though, relenting after a few more seconds of torment, leaving Tobirama breathless beneath him and not even bothering to dodge Tobirama’s punch to his shoulder. And the next one.

And the next.

“Done?” Madara asks, smirking.

“Fuck you.” Tobirama punches his arm again for good measure. “Tickling is off-limits.”

“Excuse me? You would be abusing it just as much as I do if I were ticklish.”

Tobirama rolls his eyes but doesn’t protest; tickling is his and Anija’s favorite type of mutual torture after all.

“Well,” Madara says, “was the exquisite torture enough to squeeze the truth out of you?”

Tobirama sighs, staring fondly at the lingering pout, the adorable frown and slightly ruffled hair that suits his lover so well.

(His and no one else’s, if Tobirama has a say in it. This trust, this closeness is something he decides he’ll never willingly let go.)

“Will you kiss me again?” he asks after a few moments of silence.

Madara eyes him, suspicious. “Are you going to tell me then?”

“Promise.”

And then Madara’s lips meet his, and the worries dissipate, as per usual, giving way to pure sensation. Madara’s tongue twining with his, his hands tangling in Tobirama’s hair, just as Tobirama wraps his arms around him and drags him closer. Madara ends up straddling him, which does little to help curtail his desire. Tobirama is glad to find himself lost in it, relishing their points of connection, the feeling growing overwhelming as their chakras mesh again, making them both moan and cling fast to each other, wanting, desperate.

“Fuck,” Madara groans as they part, “oh, fuck.”

“Good idea,” Tobirama breathes, vision hazy. “Stay the night?”

“Wh-what? Like, like, uh,” Madara stutters. Tobirama suspects he’d be flailing if his hands weren’t supporting his weight. “As in, stay the night as usual or?”

“I mean spend the night,” Tobirama says, “with me. As in have sex with me, Madara.”

It’s always best to be blunt with Madara, in any case.

And it’s been harder, with each passing day, to sleep next to each other as they’ve grown used to doing. Nightmares were kept at bay and breakfast became a less lonely affair, what with their brothers moving in with their wives and spending much less time with them as of late. And, of course, there was the added burden of keeping it in their pants when one or both of them would wake up with an erection. Madara insists on waiting, though, because apparently there’s something special about Tobirama’s virginity.

It’s getting more and more annoying.

Madara has stopped spluttering, finally, and sits up, shifting uncomfortably (well, too comfortably) on top of him.

“Well, we’ll—we’ll see about that once you tell me what the fuck is bothering you, Tobirama,” Madara announces, a light flush on his cheeks, waving his arm in a clumsy show of determination and knocking down the bottle of sake they’d placed on a nearby rock. “Fuck. Shit. Whatever, it was almost empty anyway."

“You will see that I’m tired of waiting,” Tobirama says, procuring a brand-new bottle of Anija’s signature moonshine from his storage scroll and setting it aside for later. “And Madara, I…” he trails off, staring helplessly into Madara’s eyes. “I was just thinking about how fragile everything is. It pisses me off.”

Madara frowns but otherwise stays silent, knowing to give Tobirama time to gather his thoughts.

“What we’ve built,” Tobirama continues, “the peace treaties, the village, the peace between our clans, finally and…” He claps Madara’s hands in his. It’s a wonder how soothing the gesture is. “This. Us. But not just us, you know—everything. I feel like it’s too perfect, too good, something that I always dreamed about because Anija dreamed about it, but while he always believed in it, I never quite could.”

Once he was old enough to grasp the more complicated concepts of settlement-building, Tobirama would stay late nearly every night, ignoring battles the ensuing day, ignoring his debilitating fatigue. He worked on infrastructure and administrative plans, education and tax systems, ideological documents and drafts of treaties for a potential shinobi, all the while listening to a despondent voice in his head telling him it’s futile.

A perfectly imperfect dream.

Tobirama’s eyes latch onto familiar constellations once again, so as not to see Madara’s deepening frown. He’s such an idiot and he should stop talking but something compels him to go on.

“And now, we’re here, and thank the gods Izuna’s wound is fully healed and my recklessness didn’t lead to another war. And new clans are joining the village, and we’ve restructured the recruiting system, but I can’t help feeling I’m going to do something wrong and fuck everything up. Or that I’m going to overlook something, and the future generations will have to deal with the consequences, and all that we’ve worked so hard for is going to crumble,” Tobirama says in the rush of one breath, cutting himself off before he reveals more of his stupid concerns. He knows what his father would say. To ignore the voices of doubt, stand up and act, to stop being a coward. “I’m sorry. I sound stupid.”

“You don’t.” Strong arms pull Tobirama into a tight embrace, and he ends up burying his head in the crook of Madara’s neck, breathing in the warm, home-like scent of musk and cedar, the slight tinge ash that always clings to Madara’s skin and the faint honey-like fragrance of his hair. “That is perfectly understandable, and you shouldn’t feel ashamed for being afraid.”

Tobirama takes a shaky breath, closing his eyes and basking in the closeness.

“I don’t think I can. I’ve never been scared of the future before, when it looked like war and death. Now it’s… happiness and I’m terrified of losing it, Madara.”

“So am I,” Madara whispers, grazing his lips against his ear, “so is your brother. So is everyone who put their all into building this village. Of course there can—and will—be mistakes. Of course we’ll fuck up at some points but,” he intersperses his next words with feather-light kisses, “I swear, Tobirama. It’s going to be all right.”

A proper kiss this time, soft and lasting just enough for Tobirama to stop shivering from the suddenly overwhelming dread.

“A stumble won’t mean defeat.” Madara tightens his embrace momentarily, flaring his chakra just so the warmth soothes Tobirama’s nerves further. “None of us knows what the future holds. None of us is going to be perfect. But you—Tobirama, you’ve done so much, started actually thinking of how to make this a reality before Hashirama and I learned to sign our fucking names on treaties. You’re the one that notices most of our mistakes and corrects them more efficiently than we could ever hope.” He shushes Tobirama with his finger when he’s about to protest. “And we’re all thankful for that. We are all there for you, helping you along the way and doing this together,” Madara promises, placing soft kisses onto Tobirama’s hands. “Everyone is trying their best, and that’s all any of us can do, isn’t it?”

It’s a challenge to keep tears from welling up, so Tobirama takes a few deep breaths to brace himself before he attempts to answer. His voice is strangled, close to breaking, but he ignores the weakness and says, “I know. Thank you. I’ll try to remember that.”

“Please do,” Madara says, smile evident in his tone. “And remember that I’m always here to listen.”

“Thank you.”

They spend the next few minutes quietly embracing and breathing together, chakra playfully mingling between them as the wind dances around them, whistling its restless melody.

“I’ve noticed you, too, tend to look at the stars to calm yourself,” Madara asks softly.

“Mm. Yes.” Tobirama lifts his head, giving Madara a quick kiss, and moving so he’s nestled against Madara, back-to-chest, facing the starlit canvas of the night sky.

“I used to find familiar constellations as a child, then outline figures in the ones I didn’t and think up names for them,” Madara admits. “Those two are Big Bear and Little Bear.” He traces the shapes with his fingers. “Because of the tails, see?”

Tobirama frowns. “They look like bowls with ladles to me.”

“Shut the fuck up with your bowls and ladles,” Madara grumbles. “You and Izuna have no imagination. Those are bears.”

“Whatever you say, Madara.” Tobirama chuckles. “Then here’s mine: that one looks like the symbol for pi.”

“A symbol for pie? Why the fuck would a pie even need a symbol? Those are Twins!”

They bicker over what each constellation depicts until they’ve run out of visible stars in their portion of the sky—and drained half of the moonshine.

“Well,” Madara says by the end of it, “we’ve at least settled who’s the more creative one out of the two of us.”

“You mean to say, who has the more developed imagination and who’s still a five-year-old,” Tobirama teases, not bothering to avoid Madara’s flick to his forehead.

“Dick.”

“Asshole.”

“You still like me.”

“And you like me.”

“I guess we’re stuck with each other then,” Madara laments. “Whatever shall we do?”

“Talk science?” Tobirama suggests, reaching for the moonshine and moving to sit cross-legged in front of Madara, who’s looking at him, one skeptical eyebrow raised. “There’s one mind-blowing fact we’ve just discovered about the stars, thanks to telescopes. Turns out they’re really, really, really far away and the light we see from them is actually from the past, because it takes so long to reach us. The worlds we see are millions, maybe billions of years old, and by now are probably dead and gone—but we’ll never actually live to see how they end.”

Madara blinks. “That’s depressing.”

“And… fascinating?” Tobirama tries.

“More depressing. But still cool, I admit.” Madara drains his drink. “Maybe there’s a world out there just like ours. War-torn and tired of war, building peace through trial and error.” His lopsided smile makes Tobirama’s heart skip a beat. “Makes you feel a bit less alone in the universe, doesn’t it?”

Tobirama returns the smile. “I don’t feel alone with you.”

It’s both sweet and hilarious to see the expression of utter shock on Madara’s face, and the blush that follows, and the spluttering before he settles on words.

“Oh, I, uh, yeah, me too! You’re, um, you’re okay.”

“And you’re remarkable, Madara.”

Tobirama is grinning like an idiot, probably, and Madara goes on muttering something about cocky self-satisfied bastards, before yanking Tobirama by the collar into yet another of their many kisses this night—and, hopefully, of many more to come.

#madatobi #tobimada #madara uchiha #tobirama senju #lou writes #fanfic #camp nano april 2020 #raffle prize

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chimchimsauce · 5 years

Text

Hit or Miss (1)

In a desperate attempt to rebuke the advances of her overly energetic coworker, YN asks her quiet roommate Jungkook to pretend to be her boyfriend until Taehyung lays off. But YN comes to realize that there's more to the quiet man than she could have ever imagined.

I guess they never miss, huh?

Tag List: @jeonkookie-oppita

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Chapter One: Caught in a Lie

As a head full of brightly colored hair comes into view, YN frantically looks around for a place to hide. As she is attempting to squeeze between a bookshelf and the wall, a warm hand lands on her arm.

"What are you doing back there, silly? You're about fifteen years too old to be trying to hide behind bookshelves in the children's section,"

Stifling a sigh, YN pulls herself from her shoddy hiding place and dusts off her polo, pulling on a pathetic looking smile.

"Hello, Taehyung," she says, wishing she'd been paying closer attention to the lock on the wall. She could have been better prepared for his shift to start.

"Good afternoon, gorgeous," he says, winking at her.

"Shouldn't you be clocking in?" YN asks, taking a step to the side in an attempt to increase the space between her and her coworker.

"Ah, I'll do it in a bit. I want to talk to you first. I missed you all weekend long. Why didn't you respond to any of my texts?"

He's pouting now, beautiful face pulled down and brown eyes peeking out from under long lashes. Taehyung is an attractive man, no doubt. He's tall with long legs, has a voice deeper than the Grand Canyon, a jawline that's known to nick people, and a face so handsome he gets stared at on the daily.

But he's also the biggest pain in the ass on the planet. He has no boundaries and shoves himself into whatever he's even remotely interested in. It was charming at first, how he wanted to be in the loop on what was going on in YN's life but he quickly became overbearing and borderline intolerable.

About a month ago, for some reason, Taehyung decided he wanted to elevate himself from obnoxious coworker to obnoxious love interest and YN's had to all but beat him off with a stick. No matter how many ways she can think of turning down his plentiful date suggestions he always comes back with a different idea. YN would flat out reject him but despite his annoying existence, Taehyung is actually a really sweet guy and she doesn't want to hurt his feelings.

"I was busy," she says, scooting away a bit further.

Taehyung only advances.

"You have that sociology exam coming up, right? How's studying going? Need a partner?"

Here comes the bright, boxy smile he's famed for.

"Ah, it's going fine, Tae, thank you. And no, I'm good. I think I'll be fine on my own,"

"Are you sure? I could -"

"Hey, you two!" one of the head supervisors, a middle-aged woman with a hatred for children shouts, "Quit messing around back there and get to work! You don't get paid to make out!"

All the patrons in the library look at the pair in judgment and YN's cheeks heat up. From the supervisor's angle, it probably does look like they're getting into no good.

YN shoves Taehyung away from her harshly and begins to speedwalk away, turning to face him and his shit eating grin as she turns away. She manages to avoid him for the rest of her shift, shoving the awkward encounter from earlier into the depths of her brain and refusing to think about it. Taehyung tries to catch her alone several times but to no avail, the man having to wait until she clocks out to approach her.

“So about that study date -”

“Taehyung!” YN nearly shouts, startling the man.

His signature smile slips off his face, her sudden abrasive attitude taking him by surprise.

“Look I - “ she wets her lips, struggling to come up with an excuse. “I’m really flattered by . . . everything you’ve done recently, but I can’t accept. I have a boyfriend,”

Thank God she’s not a wooden puppet.

“You what? Since when?” he asks, ego a bit bruised.

“Just recently. I’ve been meaning to tell you, but you don’t really let me get anything out,” YN says, feeling proud of her little lie.

“Oh,” Taehyung begins, voice small, “I guess I’ve been making you uncomfortable then,”

“No, not at all,”

Yes! Every day!

“You didn’t know! Don’t feel bad about it,” YN finishes, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder and patting him a few times.

Why didn’t she do this sooner?

“Who is it?” he asks, suddenly perking up.

“Excuse me?”

“Your boyfriend? Who is it?”

“Um,” YN says, mind blanking.

She’s only in her first year and has so far spent the majority of her time studying, working, and sleeping, so she doesn’t have many friends, even fewer who she could pin this on. But there is -

“Jungkook!” YN exclaims, spitting out her elusive roommate’s name before she can think it through.

“Jeon? Jeon Jungkook?” Taehyung asks.

“Ah, yeah,” YN says, feeling like she chose the wrong person based on the look on her co worker’s face, “Do you know him?”

“He’s my best friend,”

Fuck!

Before she can begin backpedaling to save face, Taehyung smiles widely.

“That sly dog! I didn’t know you’re the girl he’s been talking about! He knows we work together, he should have told me,”

YN laughs fakely, nodding her head and stepping down the staircase, already thinking of a way to beg Jungkook to go along with her scheme. In the entirety of the near year the two have shared an apartment, she has spoken maybe fifteen words to the man. All she knows about him is his name, the fact that he’s a senior, and he is an absolute clean freak. He hardly leaves any presence of him in the apartment, no jackets left out, no dirty dishes.

For all she knows, Jungkook doesn’t speak because he hates her guts. Oh, why did she say she’s dating him? No doubt he’ll tell Taehyung that she’s lying and then she’ll never be able to show her face at work or at home. She would have been better off saying she had a sugar daddy or that she was dating the old man who owns the antique shop in town.

“Well have a good rest of the day, YN. See you tomorrow, eh? And oh, I was serious about the study thing. If you really do need some help, let me know. I had a near perfect score in that course,”

“Okay, thank you,” she replies, waving quickly before dashing away down the sidewalk.

By the time she arrives at the apartment complex and runs up the stairs she’s completely out of breath, hands pressed onto her knees as she struggles to take in oxygen. Her hands shake as she fishes around her bag for her keys, dropping them twice before she manages to unlock the door.

Just like always, the apartment is dead silent and spotless, not a thing out of place. She throws her bag on the floor with a loud thump, leaning against the wall as she tries to even out her breathing.

“Jungkook!”

A very tired and somewhat alarmed looking man emerges from his bedroom, hair all mused and sweats wrinkled from where he no doubt had been sleeping.

“What?” he asks, voice lower than it usually is as exhaustion clogs him.

“I - I need a favor,” she says, finally being able to stand up straight without feeling like she’s gonna pass out.

“What?” he repeats, slightly annoyed.

“You know Taehyung, right? He said you’re friends,”

“You woke me up to ask about Taehyung?” he asks, irritation skyrocketing.

“N - no. I, well basically, Taehyung’s been pestering me a lot over the last month, trying to get me to date him and such and -”

“Can you get on with it?”

Things are not going well. Jungkook looks like he’s exactly three seconds from walking back into the bedroom and slamming the door behind him.

“I’m sorry. It’s just that I accidentally told Taehyung that I was dating you,”

Jungkook lifts a single eyebrow and YN blushes, completely embarrassed.

“I’m so sorry. I was just trying to get him to back off and you were the first person I could think of. I didn’t know you knew him and now it’s this big mess and I don’t know what to do. Could you just go along with it? Just for a little while? Just pretend? Please,” YN asks, legitimately begging him.

“Okay,” he says, turning to head back to his bedroom.

“Wait, really?” YN asks, shocked.

They may be roommates but they’re also strangers. There’s no reason for him to agree to this.

“Did you want me to say no?” he questions, pausing to look back at her.

“I’m just . . . I expected you to,”

“Well, I didn’t. Look, can we finish talking about this later? I just got back home from work and I’m exhausted,”

“Yeah, sure,” YN says, watching the door click close gently behind him.

“What the hell just happened?” she whispers under her breath, shaking her head and moving to the fridge.

She needs a drink.

Chapter Two

#networkbangtan #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #kookie x reader #college au #jungkook college au #kookie college au #bts fluff #bts angst #hit or miss #chimchimsauce

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bapyess1r · 4 years

Text

Sunny Daze

WARNINGS: cursing

Pairings: Sam x OC

Tags: @desertvvitch

Chapter 18

Sam’s POV

When we got back to the outskirts of Libertalia, the guards kept us locked in a cell together. The same cells they used to lock up misfit pirates. The tension in the small, dank space was gut wrenching. I sat in a corner, my knee bouncing up and down fretfully as I watched Sunny pacing before me. I looked at her with my face contorted into something nervous. The fact that I possibly got my brother killed over a long old obsession weighed heavily on me. And I never meant for him to get hurt. Or Sunny… ‘Oh...Sunny…’ I thought, knowing I absolutely fucked up. If she was upset before, she surely hated me now. I picked at the dried skin on my lip until it bled, thinking of anything I could say to her. Anything to make it better. “You weren’t supposed to be here.” was all that left my lips. Sunny stopped in her tracks almost immediately, whipping her head around to face me. The crazy in her eyes when she looked at me hurt a little.

“Excuse me?...” She scowled.

“I asked you to go home with Elena! I figured my leaving without you was a good enough incentive for you to quit-”

“I WORKED JUST AS HARD AS YOU AND NATE! I PULLED MY WEIGHT, DAMMIT, I BUSTED MY ASS TO BE HERE, SAM! I BUSTED MY ASS FOR YOU!” She screamed at me, cutting me off. Her big baby eyes were swelling with tears, her lips trembling a little as a single tear fell. I’d done it. I always did it. I just didn’t mean to do it to her. My shoulders slouched as she yelled at me. I deserved every second of it. Hell, I’d say it was well earned.

“Sunny, I-”

“There’s nothin’ you can say to me that’ll make me hate you less right now. You left without me. You knew what this meant to me and you…. And now Nathan’s gone, I just…” she started panicking and raking her fingers through her dark curls. She was at a loss for words.

“We don’t know that, Sunny.” I mumbled. I wanted to believe that he was okay but with how he fell…

“Samuel Drake, if Nathan doesn’t come back from this, so help me God...”

“I kno-”

“You’re so selfish! You lied to everybody and you knew what we all put in the line for you- what Nate put on the line for you! You don’t give a damn about anybody but yourself and you didn’t give a damn about your brother-” The moment she spoke on my feelings, I felt a fire burn in me. I huffed and puffed as her words dug deeper into me.

“Now you wait just a goddamn minute-” I snapped, raising my voice defensively. She inched closer, fixing her mouth to say something when the guard yelled at us.

“AYE! Quiet down in there!” The guard said, rapping his handgun against the rusty bars that held us captive. A moment of silence crashed over us both as he walked away and I stood to approach her as if she were a sleeping bear. I put a hand on her elbow and she pulled away from me. I hung my head with a sigh. She was right. I’d been reckless.

“Sunny…” I croaked. I wanted so badly to make things up with her if anything. “Everything just got so messed up- I… I just… I mean we were so close, Sun-”

“You lied, Sam.” She couldn’t stress that enough and I took it on the chin like a man. “You lied to your brother, you lied to Sully, and you lied to me. I don’t even know who… Was anything you told me the truth?” She asked, turning to look at me with devastation in her brown eyes. She searched my face for any sign of honesty. I was willing to give it to her. I had already lied to her so much. If I wanted any chance of keeping her around, I needed to come clean. I took my finger and pushed a singular curl off of her forehead, staring at her with vulnerability.

“I never once lied to you, Sunny. The only thing I lied about - and I do mean the only thing - was the breakout. That’s it.” I said, treading lightly with my words. I knew by now that there was no use in fighting with her. She’d only shoot me down in a heartbeat. “How you make me feel isn’t somethin’ I can just fake… As for Nathan…” I took a second to calm the sudden panic as my voice cracked a little. “I can’t forgive myself if anything happens to him… I…” I tried to find the words but explain all the emotions I was feeling but they just weren’t coming out right. I felt my eyes start to burn, thinking about the safety of my little brother as tears threatened to fall. I sniffled and pinched them away stressfully. She sighed and rubbed her eyes tiredly before looking out at the lock the guard put on the door then back at me.

“We need to start workin’ on gettin’ outta here.” She whispered to me.

“They took all our gear, Sunny. How in the hell are we gettin’ out?” I sighed. With the way things were going, I honestly wanted to just quit and she picked up on that. An annoyed but supportive expression played on her face as she placed her hands on her hips. She spoke softly but firmly to me.

“Stop that shit, Sam.” She sang.

“Stop what-”

“That ‘oh my god its hard and now people are mad at me’ shit. That shit...right there.” She said pointing at my face. It wasn’t very articulate but I got it and I frowned with a defeated sigh, shaking my head. “After all this? After all you’ve done here? You, sir, don’t get to do that ‘I quit’ bullshit. Man the fuck up and get it done. Now… let’s go get our treasure.” She told me boldly. Something about the way she spoke to me struck a chord in my chest and I looked up at the small beacon of hope before me. She meant every word. A small smile threatened to pull on my lips as a bit of adrenaline started to surge.

“Yes ma’am.” I said as I approached her to press a kiss onto her lips but she put a firm hand against my face, mushing me and pushing me away.

“I’m still upset with you so you’re on punishment. I’m not kissin’ you right now.” She told me in a stale tone with a faint grin of her own. I smirked as I leaned against the cell wall.

“For how long?” I asked, crossing my arms.

“Until I say so.” She said simply with a cute little shrug.

“I can wait.” I grinned, throwing a wink her way. She rolled her eyes and pulled a hair pin from her curls.

“I need you to take out the guard as soon as I unlock this door, got it?” She ordered and I readied myself with a nod, bouncing on my tip toes and loosening my limbs.

“Ready when you are, sweetheart…” I smiled as I rolled my shoulders back.

I watched her pick the lock carefully and quietly so as to not alert the guard. I heard the click from the lock as she successfully freed us and slowly unwrapped the chains from the door and wrapping them around her fist. She looked back at me as if to ask if I was ready and I cracked my neck, nodding. As soon as she opened the door, I eased my way out and snuck up behind the shorter man, wrapping my thick arms around his neck and squeezed tightly until his body grew heavy in my arms. “Shh…” I whispered, patting his head as I put him to sleep and dropped his body nonchalantly. Sunny left the cell as soon as he was down and we began to divvy his weapons. I took the handgun and let her have the big gun. ‘She’s so sexy with her big guns…’ I thought, admiring the shape of her body as her posture straightened, looking into the scope and checking her ammunition. I bit my lip as I checked my own ammo clip and approached her. “Be careful with that thing, sweetheart.” I smirked and she rolled her eyes before hiding behind Avery’s statue. I began to scan the area to see where the soldiers were posted.

“How many?” Sunny asked.

“I count 15. At least what I can see from here.” I winced as the both of us began to look around.

“We need a better vantage point. I dunno about you but I’m not tryna get all shot up.” She said before glancing up to an exposed balcony. I saw the shoulder of a guard standing up there pacing and smoking a cigarette. I knew that’s where we had to be.

“Up there!” I whispered to her as I let my eyes scan as much of the building as I could. “It looks like there’s a window around the side. Just gimme a sec to take out this guy.” I said, beginning to crouch my way over to the building.

I climbed the wall, hanging onto the windowsill as I peeked into the opening. The guard was leaning on the wall talking to another guard about how shitty Rafe Adler was. I didn’t count for another guard but what could I really do about it besides handle it? And while I absolutely had to agree with everything both men were saying, they were still in my way and had to be put down. I climbed in with a smirk and snatched the freshly lit cigarette from his hands, placing it between my lips before knocking his lights out. Spooking the other guard by accident, he pulled out his pistol. Before he could even take aim, I grabbed him by the wrist and kneed him in his gut, a clean punch swiping across his lower jaw as I brought him down. I ran to the balcony to call her over as quietly as possible and she snuck over to climb the wall. I reached out for her and helped her up into the building. She gasped at the sight of the second body. “I know. I didn’t expect a second.” I said, puffing the stolen cigarette.

She raised a brow at me as I did. “You got another one of those?” She asked, pointing to the one between my lips. I shrugged, moving past her to pat down the body of the man I took mine from and found a half pack.

“You’re in luck, sweetheart!” I said, waving the back about. She reached out for it and I did the most asshole thing a tall person could do to a shorter person. I held the pick up out of her reach with a smirk.

“Don’t be a dick, Sam. Give it.” She said reaching for it again but I kept it out of her reach and leaned in towards her.

“I’ll give you one if you let me kiss you.” I bargained slickly. Sunny wasn’t having any of that. She punched me in the gut with her chain wrapped fist just hard enough to make me cough and lower the pack.

“I’ll kiss you when I feel like kissin’ you.” She whispered in my ear as I leaned against the wall in pain. She snatched it out of my hand and felt up my pockets for my lighter. She took one and lit it before tossing the zippo and pack back to me.

“So you punch me, feel me up for my lighter, then tease me?” I asked as I tucked my lighter away, just checking to make sure this was the woman who caught me by the heartstrings. The smirk she gave me in return answered everything. ‘God yes.’ I thought with a slight snicker as she looked out of the next window.

“I count 8 more men on this side.” She told me as she narrowed her eyes, puffing on her cigarette. I scoffed as I walked over to observe the situation. “Rafe’s guys are crawlin’ all over this place.” She said, shaking her head and walking to pick the bodies I just dropped for more ammunition.

“You think we can make it outta here?” I asked, picking up the HS39 that laid near one of the bodies and inspecting it quickly.

“Good Lord willin’ and the creek don’t rise…” she responded, her southern voice strongly accented with a nervous smile and her fingers crossed. My heart flipped from the way she said that. I let the weight of the gun drop my arms and a hopeful smile spread over my lips as I stared at her. She narrowed her eyes at me.

“What?” She asked suspiciously.

“Are you sure I can’t kiss you?” I asked rather softly. A faint shade of red covered her cheeks as she fought off a smile and took a deep breath.

“I say… we power through. Get rid of as many as we can and then stealth our way out.” She said recklessly. I tuned up my face and winced. That plan had “death” written all over it.

“I uh… I don’t know about that, sweethea-” Just as I went to debate her plan, we heard the voices of two guards. I dropped down to lay on my stomach so no one would see me as we peeked over the balcony.

“What the hell?! They’re gone! Shit. Rafe’s not gonna be happy about this…” I heard him say. We watched him turn to the other men and bark orders. “Search the grounds! They couldn’t have gotten far!” He said, pulling out his walkie talkie to contact who I could only assume was either Rafe or Nadine. Whoever it was didn’t sound too happy.

“I don’t think we have much of a choice.” Sunny told me. She was right. They’d be looking all over for us.

“Alright… Sunny…” I said stopping her before she stood. I had to tell her one more time. “In the event that we don’t make it, I just wanna say I’m sor-” Before I could even finish my apology, she grabbed under my chin and pulled my lips to hers, kissing me sweetly. I smiled a little against her soft lips, kissing her back gently as a warmth spread throughout my chest.

“I’m still mad at you but I accept your apology.” She said with a smirk. I smiled widely and cocked my gun.

“Punishment wasn’t as bad as I thought.” I chuckled and she punched me in the arm.

The fight through the waves of Shoreline wasn’t easy by any means but we got shit done. As I struck a man down, I could see her blocking someone’s attacks and ducking before delivering an impressive jab to their nose. She sold it with a kick to the chest and that person just didn’t get up. ‘Awesome.’ I thought simply as she looked around. I could hear more boots heading our way and panicked a little. “Sunny, we got more company!” I shouted to her and she grabbed my hand dragging me towards a thicket of tall plants.

“We came into Libertalia this way!” She said but I stopped her. We were out and free now. We could keep going. We could get a head start on Avery’s treasure again.

“Sweetheart, New Devon is this way!” I told her, pulling her a different direction. She looked at me confused.

“Sorry, you went on a little trip without me so I’m missin’ a few details- what the fuck is New Devon?” She snapped.

“We found the treasury building but it was empty, Sunny. All the portraits of the captains were vandalized with the word ‘thief’ across them. You were right, sweetheart. They betrayed the other pirates and took everything for themselves. They moved it all to New Devon.” I informed her quickly. Sunny shook her head lightly and I could see her processing things as fast as she could. The mercenaries were getting closer and we only had a moment to make a decision. “Sunny, we could finish this-”

“No.” She said, quickly and firmly. She had made her choice.

“But Sunny-”

“Nate is gone and you seriously still wanna look for this shit?! No, Sam!” She yelled at me. I was confused for a moment.

“You wanted to look for it two seconds ago!” I exclaimed.

“Well I change my damn mind! It’s not right!” She snapped.

“You can’t be serious right now?!” I laughed tensely. The look in her eyes however was plenty serious. I knew things were different now but we were still so close. But the fact that we even considered it seemed to piss her off and I raised my hands defensively.

“Let’s get the hell outta here first and then we can talk about this-”

“Sam, there’s nothin’ to talk about- we’re not goin’! Now you can stay here to look for it and work with Rafe all you want to-”

“Sunny, I’m not-”

“-But I want nothin’ to do with it. I could give a rat’s ass about some dead man’s treasure…” she said, pushing by me to enter the thicket. I groaned loudly, running my hand down my face and bouncing up and down anxiously before deciding to follow her. In the end, she was right. It would be absolutely inappropriate to keep searching for Avery’s treasure right now in the wake of Nathan’s disappearance. I just couldn’t stand the thought of Rafe succeeding at something I’ve sacrificed my entire life for. To have his hands on the thing my late mother worked so tirelessly to find.

As we walked through the jungle, Sunny stopped and turned to look at me. She saw the strong disappointment on my face and stroked my cheek. “Sully used to tell me a thing. ‘Sometimes you gotta know when to pick up the gun and sometimes you gotta know when to put it down…’” she said. “It’s time to put it down, bub.” Her expression faltered as she spoke to me. She was disappointed as well. I know she worked hard and almost died a couple of times for this. Remembering those moments, I felt a bit of regret for leaving without her. For making a decision that wasn’t mine to make. She chose this life just like the rest of us. She knew the consequences of it the same as I. It wasn’t fair for me to cut her out and I saw that now. I nodded my head reluctantly in agreement.

“So what’s the plan?” I asked, changing the subject to avoid further depression. We kept walking until the exit near the cliffs where Nate and I stood before came into view.

“There should be a 4x4 still out here. Sully brought Elena and I out here on the plane.” She told me. I was a little shocked.

“Elena? She stayed?” I asked.

“She wasn’t gonna but you left me...” She reiterated, widening her eyes at me with a bit of sass. She was never going to let me forget where I fucked up. “...and Sully wouldn’t let me go after you alone. I asked for her help and she gave it.” She told me.

“Ah… I’m sure I’m leaving her a hell of an impression.” I chuckled lowly and she smiled. In spite of making her grin, her voice stayed serious.

“I’m sure you have.” She agreed. “If something happens to Nate though, you’ll have her to deal with.” ‘Oh yeah…’ I thought. As we came upon the vines that covered the opening, a bit of relief filled my chest. We were out of Libertalia and on our way to the plane. That was until we parted them and stepped onto the cliff. Waiting for us with several guns pointed was a couple of Shoreline soldiers… and Nadine.

“Leaving so soon?” She asked sarcastically. Sunny rolled her eyes and stepped forward.

“Nadine, I’m really not in the mood for this shit.” She said, strutting towards her.

“Interesting. Neither am I.” She replied, clicking the safety off and aiming it at her head. “Contrary to the situation at hand, I actually like you, Sunny. That being said, don’t make me shoot you.” Nadine’s words were firm but genuine. Sunny just stepped closer until the barrel of the gun was aimed right between her eyes.

“Unfortunately, I have somewhere to be so if you’re gonna shoot me… fuckin’ do it.” Sunny challenged her, pressing her forehead into the barrel, bravely staring this woman down. Without even blinking, Nadine moved the gun to her shoulder and fired off a shot. My eyes widened and I ran to catch her as she fell over in pain. She was clutching her shoulder as blood gushed from between her fingers, staining her dirty light washed denim shirt. I sat her up to see if the bullet had gone all the way through but it didn’t. ‘Damn..’ I thought as her face began to pale and a tear fell down her cheek from the pain.

“You’re alright, sweetheart.” I whispered to her, putting pressure on the wound as I looked up at Nadine, the gun still pointed at us.

“The only reason I didn’t kill her is because Rafe needs her alive. You’ll do what we say as long as she’s still breathing.” She told me. I snarled a bit as I looked at her.

“You’re a right piece of work, Nadine Ross.” I said to her and she smirked before turning to her comrades.

“Take their weapons and get this one to a medic.” She said gesturing to Sunny and two soldiers picked her up from my arms and dragged her back into Libertalia. Then she locked eyes with mine. “You… you’re coming with me.” She said punching me in the face harshly before grabbing me by the collar and forced me to follow suit. When we hit the town square, Sunny was led one way towards the trucks and 4x4s and I was led the other way towards a building.

When we got inside, Rafe was leaning against a crate waiting for me with a couple of maps. Looking at the smug, arrogant grin on his face made me sick. Nadine pushed me into the room roughly and Rafe just patted me on the shoulder. “Nice try, Samuel. But the only way you two are getting outta here is with a bullet in your skull.” He threatened lightly before clasping his hands together. “Now that we’ve got these fully loaded threats outta way, it’s time to get to work.” He said before gesturing to the array of resources and maps that we didn’t have while exploring King’s Bay ourselves. “Where do we begin?” He asked me. I looked around the room at the handful of soldiers that would murder me at the first sign of foul play and sighed in defeat before stepping up to the crate.

“You wanna start checking their homes…” I mumbled, diffidently picking up a permanent marker that sat beside the maps and began to draw out a few markings on the landscape. “Next best bet would be to look here…”

#uncharted #uncharted 4 #sam drake #samuel drake #samuel drake x reader #uncharted x reader #sam drake fanfiction #sam drake x reader smut #sam drake smut #uncharted smut #rafe adler x oc #rafe adler #nadine ross #elena fisher #victor sullivan #nathan drake #poc oc #poc #uncharted 4: a thief’s end

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alexsfictionaddiction · 4 years

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Alex Recommends: May and June Books

I must apologise for the late arrival of this post. It should have been up days ago but I’ve been struggling to read much for the last month or so. My head has been very foggy and dark with all of the confusion, anxiety and hate that has been filling my news feeds and I’ve been filled with a desire to combat it. Before this month, I’d have run in the opposite direction from any kind of confrontation but recent events have given me the kick up the butt to actively do better. I’ve been calling out bigotry when I come across it and I’ve noticed that some people, notably my older relatives, haven’t necessarily reacted favorably to the changed, more outspoken Alex. It has been pretty daunting and I’ve worked myself up into fits of rage and tears several times over the last couple of months.

A lot of things have changed for me since my last Alex Recommends post. I’m currently temporarily living in Staffordshire with my boyfriend because my depression got too bad for me to stay at home for much longer. I missed him unbelievably much and I knew that spending some prolonged time with him would help -and it has. Both him and I have spent 12 weeks religiously following all of the rules, so we’re both extremely low-risk for catching and spreading COVID-19 and being together was something that we simply really needed to do. Please don’t hate me for it! In other news, I have also started writing again, which feels amazing. I’m now a few thousand words into a queer Rapunzel retelling that I have lots of ideas for. Maybe I’ll even post an extract or two, when I feel it’s ready to show you.

In the centre of the renewed energy of Black Lives Matter and the undeniable exposure of the horrors that is police brutality, the book blogging and BookTube worlds vowed to uplift Black voices. I wrote a very long, in-depth blog post full of Black-written books and Black book influencers. Please check it out to diversify your TBR and educate yourself on Black issues, which is what every white person should be doing now and always.

June was Pride Month and I tried my best to compile a series of recommendation posts in honour of it. These included gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, non-binary, ace, pansexual and intersex lists. I’ve had some great feedback on this, so I hope you find some fantastic new reads. It felt especially poignant to put them together the same year that one of my childhood heroes came out as an ignorant trans-exclusive feminist. As a lifelong Harry Potter superfan and someone who has repeatedly publicly supported Rowling in the past, I feel the need to clarify where I now stand. I do not support or agree with a single thing that she has said in recent times with regard to transgender people. I’ve never felt my own status as a cisgender female threatened by trans people wanting more rights or believed that children or women were at risk due to their existence.

I read her words more than once and struggled to find any semblance of the woman who wrote the books that have most defined my life. I’m hesitant to say that we can always successfully separate the art from the artist but I will say that it makes sense to me that the Rowling of 2020 is not the same Rowling that wrote Harry Potter. She was a destitute single mother when Philosopher’s Stone was published in 1997 and of course, she is now a million worlds away from that lifestyle. It breaks my heart but it makes sense to me that she has changed beyond belief because her life has changed beyond belief. I’m not and never would make any excuses for her recent behaviour and I have stopped supporting her personally but I will not be getting rid of my Harry Potter books and I will undoubtedly re-read them several more times. However, I am now hugely reluctant to buy any more merchandise or special editions of the books, which saddens me but at the moment, it feels right. There is no coming back for her from this and I will make a conscious effort to keep Harry Potter and Rowling away from my future content. It can be really tough to admit that the people you once really admired aren’t great humans but it’s something that we all have to acknowledge in this case, in order to move forward with our own quests to become our best selves.

It didn’t feel right to post my May recommendations last month as I didn’t feel comfortable promoting my own content in the midst of boosting Black voices. So today I’m bringing you a bumper edition of Alex Recommends. Here are 10 books that I’ve enjoyed since the start of May that I’d love to share with you. Enjoy! -Love, Alex x

FICTION: Little Fires Everywhere by Celeste Ng

Set in the affluent neighbourhood of Shaker Heights, Ohio in the 1990s, two families are brought together and pulled apart by the most intense, devastating circumstances. Dealing with issues of race, class, coming-of-age, motherhood and the dangers of perfection, Little Fires Everywhere is highly addictive and effecting. With characters who are so heartbreakingly real and a story that weaves its way to your very core, I couldn’t put it down and I’m still thinking about it over a month after finishing it.

FICTION: Get A Life, Chloe Brown by Talia Hibbert

When coding nerd Chloe Brown almost dies, she makes a list of goals and vows to finally Get A Life. So she enlists tattooed redhead handyman and biker Red to teach her how. Cute, funny and ultimately life-affirming, this enemies-to-lovers rom-com was exactly the brand of light relief that I needed this month. The follow-up Take A Hint, Dani Brown focuses on a fake-dating situation with Chloe’s over-achieving academic sister and I can’t wait to get my hands on that.

FICTION: The Rearranged Life of Oona Lockhart by Margarita Montimore

Just before her 19th birthday at midnight on New Year’s Eve 1983, Oona Lockhart finds herself inexplicably in 2015 inside her 51-year-old body. She soon learns that every year on New Year’s Day, she will now find herself inside a random year of her life and she has no control over it. Seeing her through relationships, friendships and extreme wealth, this strange novel has echoes of Back To The Future and 13 Going On 30 with a final revelation that I certainly never saw coming.

NON-FICTION: The Five by Hallie Rubenhold

Atmospheric and engaging, The Five details the previously untold stories of Polly, Annie, Elisabeth, Kate and Mary-Jane -the women who lost their lives at the hands of Jack the Ripper. Full of fascinating research and heartbreaking accounts of what these women’s lives may have been like, Rubenhold paints a dark immersive portrait of Victorian London and gives voice to these tragic silenced lives. Although we can’t know for certain if these accounts are entirely accurate, they feel very plausible and in some ways, The Five exposes how little time has moved on, when it comes to the public portrayal of single, troubled women.

NON-FICTION: Unicorn by Amrou Al-Kadhi

From a childhood crush on Macaulay Culkin to how a teenage obsession with marine biology helped them realise their non-binary identity, Unicorn tells the story of how the obsessive perfectionist son of a strict Muslim Iraqi family became the gorgeous drag queen Glamrou. Packed full of humour, honesty and heart, this book will give you the strength and inspiration to harness what you were born with and be who you were always meant to be.

MIDDLE-GRADE: The Super Miraculous Journey of Freddie Yates by Jenny Pearson

When fact-obsessed Freddie’s grandmother dies, he discovers that the father he has never met may actually be alive and living in Wales. So he has no choice but to grab his best friends Ben and Charlie, leave his home in Andover and go to find his dad! I laughed so many times during this madcap adventure and I know the slapstick crazy humour will hit the middle-grade target audience just right. It’s also a wonderful depiction of small town Britain with a focus on the true meaning of family.

MIDDLE-GRADE: A Kind Of Spark by Elle McNicoll

When Addie learns about her hometown’s history of witch trials, she campaigns tirelessly to get a memorial for the women who lost their lives through it. This wonderfully beautiful novel gives a unique insight into the mind of an 11-year-old autistic girl with a huge heart. Busting myths about neurodiversity while tackling typical pre-teen drama, you’ll laugh, you’ll cry but most of all, you’ll close the book with a huge smile on your face.

HISTORICAL FICTION: Hamnet by Maggie O’Farrell

In 16th century Warwickshire, Agnes is a woman with a unique gift whose relationship with a young Latin tutor produces three children and a legacy that lasts for centuries. This enchanting, all-consuming account of the tragic story of Shakespeare’s lost son, the effects that rippled through the family and the play that was born from their pain will send a bullet straight through your heart. Wonderfully researched and beautifully written, Hamnet is worth all of the hype.

HISTORICAL FICTION: The Mercies by Kiran Millwood Hargrave

When a vicious storm kills most of the men of Vardø, Norway, it’s up to the women to keep things going but a man with a murderous past is about to come down with an iron fist. At the heart of this dark tale of witch trials, grief and feminism, two women find something they’ve each been searching for within each other. Gorgeously written with a fantastically slow-burning queer romance, Kiran Millwood Hargrave’s first adult novel is an addictive, atmospheric read with a poignant, tearjerker of an ending.

SCI-FI: Q by Christina Dalcher

When one of Elena’s daughters manages to drop below the country’s desired Q number, she is sent away to one of the new state schools and Elena is about to find out something she’d really rather not know about the new system. Packed full of real social commentary and critique of life as we know it while painting a picture of how things could be even worse (yes, really!), this pulse-racing, horrifying sci-fi dystopian gripped me from the first page and refused to let me go.

#book recommendations #recommended #recommendations #may #june #books #bookworm

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