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cipheress-to-k-pop · 3 years

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A Sister's Love

Pairing: Platonic Damian Wayne x Al Ghul!Reader

Warnings: Injuries and blood. Drugging, Trafficking and sexual assult but these are not the main themes.

Word Count: 4.9K

Summary: You realize you have a lot to learn about yourself outside of your little brother, Damian's, shadow.

A/N: Was originally gonna make this a Dick Grayson x Reader but realized it would be weird cuz of mixed families and stuff. And I don't wanna be pushing the boundaries of incest.

Growing up in the League of Assassins meant a lot of things for you. It meant that you were raised to be powerful and commanding. It meant you knew how to kill a man in 47 different ways and counting. It meant that you were raised to rightfully think that you were the best.

Although for every good thing there was always cons. Your schedule was rigid and your peers were unfeeling. Your mother most of all, but that didn't stop you from trying to win her affection. It was the reason why when your little brother was born you felt threatened.

That was until you met little Damian. Your mother had handed him to you with a smile of pride that she never showed you and you hated him. But then you saw his precious little face, a nose tinier than a button and adorable lips that were curled into a pout. He was so beautiful.

Since then, you put any differences you might have had with your mother behind you. According to Ra’s it would have been a mistake to show Damian such tenderness, to teach him about loyalty to your heart, instead of without it.

But Talia couldn't ignore the tug she felt in her heart seeing you and Damian together. You still worked hard, harder than she had ever seen before, now determined not to show that you were weak and have them take your brother from you. Damian followed your example, training to her approval, however taxing it was for him.

And more importantly, Damian loved you. You were the first woman he had ever loved and he was smart enough to know that would never be a mistake. You were his shelter in a storm, his fire in the cold. You were the best sibling that anyone could ever even dream of.

But then you had to part. At age 10, Damian went to live with his father, Bruce Wayne. You had never met the man when he was with your mother and you assumed you wouldn't need to, he wasn't your father.

Both you and Damian didn't want to leave each other. You'd miss your little brother and you'd miss the feeling in your chest whenever you'd look at him. Damian would miss home; he would miss your presence and he would miss the familiarity. But he couldn't stay.

That's something you learnt at the League. Damian couldn't stay, with you. He was meant for bigger things than you.

Another thing you learnt was that you didn't have to stay either. You wanted to see the world, see what everything else had in store for you. And your mother, bless her, gave you her blessing.

Of all the things the league taught you, there were things they missed out on. And a part of you was thankful for that. Because you enjoyed the feeling of wide-eyed wonderment when you stepped into a train station for the first time ever.

You had never tasted a chocolate muffin before, you realized as you stuffed your face at a local bakery. Coffee and chocolate muffins went well together. You liked sweet things better than spicy things, you noted when you didn't enjoy the tteokbokki you bought at a Korean food stall.

People were kind, not foolish. They smiled at you when you came in and genuinely asked you where you were headed. Like the woman you met on the tram who was heading to Washington DC. Even through the short ride, the two of you had bonded and she had left you with her phone number and a promise that if you were ever in DC, you would ring her up. Diana was trusting, too trusting. You could have assumed it was because she was stupid, but you wanted to believe it was because she was smarter than even you.

Some people were kind like her but of course, some were impolite and pig-headed. You of course didn't waste any time putting them in their place. Maybe that was why you shouldn't have any faith in humanity.

But isn't humanity just the thing you should be putting faith in?

It was fun at first, discovering new things, seeing how people really lived outside of books and things taught to you back at the League. You knew everything, you weren't naive enough to be oblivious but reading about something was miles apart from actually experiencing it.

After a while however, you got lonely, it was a huge world with people constantly moving and you've come to realize that unless you're with somebody, you can't really move from your place. Instead, you'd be stuck watching all of them. So, you sought after your brother.

It was easy enough to track Bruce Wayne, he lived in a house large enough to be seen from outer space. Getting to Gotham took longer than you expected. Time passed so easily when you didn't have a purpose but now that you had somewhere you needed to be, the train couldn't go any slower.

Gotham City was less gloomy than people made it out to be. The sun was shining and the city was bustling. In some ways, it seemed a little homey. Maybe that was because you didn't have to worry about someone hurting you. If anything, they should pray that they don't choose you as their next victim.

Of course, you could've gone to Wayne Manor and introduced yourself civilly but you wanted to see Damian more than anything and didn't want to delay it any longer. And more than that, you wanted to see Damian is his cute little school uniform.

That's what led you to wait outside of the well-reputed Gotham University, waiting patiently for the bell to ring and students to file out of it. You already knew that they wouldn't come out singing like in the movies but a very small fraction of you still hoped.

Your heartrate increased with every passing minute, excited to meet your brother after nearly a year of being apart. Eventually, the bell did ring and students began trickling out of the doors, looking like bumble bees, excitedly zipping around and talking to their friends.

'Would this have been my life if I was never born in the League?' You wondered, looking at a girl who was animatedly chatting with her friend, arms interlocked as they moved towards the parking lot where their parents were waiting.

When you finally saw Damian, you suddenly felt out of place. Like an outsider watching someone else's brother when you saw his eyes lock onto someone in the commons. Even though you weren't on the school campus, you could still recognize who it was.

Richard Grayson, oldest son of Bruce Wayne, waiting to pick up your little brother on a motor cycle.

And for the first time in your life, you experienced insecurity, watching them greet each other like brothers. The feeling was sour and you wondered if it was a mistake coming here, thinking that you still had a place here.

It was true, people didn't move from their place unless they had someone to go with. You hadn't felt fulfilled like that since your brother stopped being at your side. He was everything you knew. It was just your mistake for thinking that in the year apart your brother wouldn't have found anyone either.

***

"Drake, pull up the security cameras from today at my school parking lot." Damian ordered, stepping into the Batcave.

"No 'Hello', no 'How you doing?', it's always 'Tim, do this' 'Drake, do that'," Tim commented sarcastically but still pulled up whatever he needed, "And then as soon as I give you what I want, you're going to forget me again. And not even visit the kids."

Dick spared him a laugh at his dramatic scene, ruffling his hair as greeting and then turned his attention to the screen. The footage was played at double the speed until Damian's eyes locked onto just what he wanted to find.

It was just for a second, when Dick's motorcycle had zoomed past but that was all he needed. Damian had seen your face and it wasn't any mistake, he'd know you even if he was blind. Even though he was so sure it had been you, he still couldn't hide the way his body froze, eyes wide when he saw your face.

It was the same face he'd see every night before he went to bed and the very first person he wanted to see every time he woke up. Your image was what came into his mind when he thought of being nurtured, when he thought of being safe.

There was a time when he was younger, too young, there was a thunder storm. He doesn't remember much from the night, just hiding his face against your chest and you wrapping a blanket around him. His mother trained him even harder the next day, until he almost dropped but he'd never forget curling up to your warmth. Not even now, when he knew that thunder storms were the least of his fears.

It was as simple as that. With his father and brothers, he didn't have to worry about looking weak, he didn't think of love as a weakness, rather he considered it as the fuel behind strength. Yes, his father taught him well. And now he would show you just how much he's grown. So, you can be proud of him.

"We need to find her."

"Why? Who is she?"

"My sister."

***

Of all the things you wanted to experience, visiting a bar was one of them. Was the air really enough to intoxicate you? Were you really going to lose all sense when you stepped into it? Would be able to drink your troubles away?

You were sorely disappointed. The alcohol didn't taste good, it burned when you swallowed it and made your tongue feel fuzzy. The music was so loud that your brain began throbbing against your skull to the beat of the song.

Men were picking fights and women were having fun but even then, you couldn't find it in yourself to get up and actually have fun. I mean, how were you supposed to? How was cosying up against a drunk man supposed to make you feel better? How was getting lost in throngs of sweaty people who didn't know what personal space was meant to improve your mood?

If anything, it just reminded you of just how pathetic your life was.

You were realizing you had no purpose. Damian was all you had known for years now, knowing only to protect him with your life and love him with your heart. Who were you without him? What did you like? What made you happy outside from your duty at the league?

A man knocking into you brought you out of your thoughts, which had been happening all night. Except this man stopped in front of you and gave you a smile that turned your stomach upside down.

"Sorry about that pretty lady, let me buy you a drink to make up for it." He spoke with a voice that was trying to be smooth but instead sounded like metal scraping over each other.

"No, thank you." You said sharply, not yet done with your Manhattan anyway. You were barely enjoying your time here as it was and you were sure another drink wouldn't change your mind.

"Not a fan?"

You shook your head at him, choosing to humour the man.

"Then let me buy you another one, if you don't like it then you have nothing to lose."

You pretended to giggle at him and he swelled with pride. Did he think he was winning?

"One Boulevardier." He told the bartender who nodded and began preparing the drink. Until it was ready, you indulged the man in front of you who reeked of cigarettes and alcohol.

He placed the drink in front of you and if you hadn't known that it would burn going down and turn you into a shell of yourself, you might have been curious to what it tasted like.

"You see that dude over there?" He nodded to a man standing in the other corner of the bar and you turned to look at him. Another man, covered in tattoos who didn't look any different than the one standing behind you.

"He's my pal, owns the bar. Ask him and he'll hook you up with free drinks tonight. For a price, of course."

You turned back around to face the man and out of the corner of your eye saw something dissolve into your drink. It was only for a second but you saw the last remaining grains turn invisible and you definitely noticed the way the once steady drink was now swirling into a vortex in the middle.

"Drink up, princess."

You smirked. Tonight, might be fun after all.

***

This was boring.

You had been pretending to be unconscious for about 40 minutes while these men drove you to some undisclosed location. Their conversations were unbelievably dry and it's not like you had anyone else to talk to. Everyone else who might have been even mildly interesting were knocked unconscious.

Eventually they pulled up to some sort of holding facility and if your assumptions were correct then this would be a midpoint before they sold all the girls here to some sort of pimp.

Once they lugged you off the truck and threw you into a room with so many other people, you could hear their breathing did you open your eyes. It seemed like this was some sort of abandoned butcher or meat factory, judging by the ominous hooks hanging above your head and the metal walls. The door had been bolted shut, the only way to look through it was a small glass window.

Only after you finished taking in your surroundings did you even look at the other women who had been trapped in the room along with you. Your stomach turned.

There were so many unsuspecting faces who looked like they didn't sign up for this. Half of them looked under the influence of something, sweating profusely even in their sleep, faces scrunched up in pain. The other looked like they were forcibly taken, bruises covering their skin, hair and clothes in disarray and more than half of them had either a black eye or a swollen lip.

Maybe it was their fault for not being trained, that's what someone at the league would've said. But isn't it their captors’ fault for misusing their training, their strength, for something as vile as this?

You decided to wait, you couldn't assume that this small group of girls was the only one in the confines of the building. How many more were here?

You weren't feeling overwhelmed, not at all, not with the weapons that were littering you. A kunai hidden is either of your boots, throwing stars in your pockets hidden underneath your vest and a war fan in your pocket. You could handle these clowns without even looking up.

But it wasn't your life you were concerned about. It was the lives of these underaged, vulnerable girls who had fallen prey to these monsters.

While you were waiting a couple of the girls started to wake up. Some were still heavily drugged, still groggy when their eyes fluttered open and unable to focus onto anything. Others shot up straight as an arrow and began crying, screaming, begging for them to let them out.

They were ignored, by both their captors and you. Why try and reassure then when you weren't sure what was going to happen. More importantly, why throw off the monsters lurking outside the door that there was one woman who hadn't been phased.

Instead, you just stared blankly, trying to get comfortable and hear anything through the walls. Eventually, you heard the sound of footsteps coming towards the room. You covered the lower half of your face with a scarf, making sure that anyone who left here alive today, wouldn't be able to remember your face. Whether it be as a saviour or their punisher.

The girls whimpered and curled into one another, crying quietly and you felt sympathy. There was no way they'd be able to move forward from this without having fear stab at their heart with every step they took. You could only hope they had something in their life that would make them feel safe.

For tonight, you'd be that for them.

A few men opened the door with a cruel smile, stepping inside for a second before bolting it shut. They flaunted guns and other weapons to the girls, finding pleasure where there should be compassion and worry. You were disgusted watching their smirks twist maniacally when the girls cried harder seeing them brandish their weapons.

One of the men stepped forward and grabbed the girl closest to him who begged and cried to spare her. His disgusting hand might as well be made of acid because you almost felt the sick burn when it snaked between her legs and copped a feel while she sobbed and screamed, trying to fight him off.

You grabbed one of your weapons and returned their sick grins with one of your own.

It was going to be hard to cop a feel when he can't feel anything.

You were going to break each and every bone in his hand to ensure that.

***

"Can I borrow your phone please?" You asked the bloody and broken man by your feet. He glared at you and spat blood on your boots, unable to do anything else. You sighed and faked a pout.

"Is it here?" You wondered, holding the dirtied boot over his ribs and his eyes widened, catching drift of what you were about to do. You rammed your foot into his broken ribs, courtesy of yourself, and he screamed bloody murder. Music to your ears.

"Apparently not. Want me to check your pants?" You asked, raising a brow and he frantically shook his head, using whatever strength left to pull out his phone from his pocket and you smiled, thanking him quietly.

"Now, let's hope that one blow is enough to put you out of my misery." You sang, punching him right in the face and he passed out. Lightweight.

You took a look around the place, seeing bodies littered over the place like confetti. Blood was scattered on the ground and you're sure if people looked hard enough, they'd find someone's teeth. You on the other hand looked fine.

You sat on the floor, crossing your legs comfortably, tired after the fight and dialled a number onto the phone.

"Hello, police?"

"Yes, how can we help you?"

"Well, there's a sex trafficking scam going on at my location. Quite shoddy but they have a number of women trapped here and it would be nice if you could send backup to have them escorted home safely."

"A sex trafficking scam?"

"Well, it could be just a regular trafficking scam but I'm not too sure."

"All right, I'll have someone check it out."

"Good, and I realize you might get a lot of calls like this but please don't talk to me like I'm an idiot. Tell your people to send a couple of ambulances as well, you'll need them."

"Of course."

You could only hope the person on the other end of the line would eat their words when it was on the front of the newspaper. For now, your work was done.

In the meantime, how were you going to get anywhere from here? Where even were you? Was there anyone even conscious here who could give you directions? Or would you have to call the police again to find out where to go?

Not that you'd wait long enough for them actually arrive here. You'd return to the bar way before that for another drink. Maybe now you'd actually be able to enjoy one.

Just as you were about to leave, you heard a creak coming from the other end of the warehouse. It echoed through the halls and you leapt to your feet, soundless moving to hide in the shadows and pulling out a kunai.

The footsteps that followed it were light and airy, barely even touching the ground. They were trained, whoever they were. You kept your ears open in order to hear something.

"Whoever was here was trained." You heard someone comment.

"Are you really that stupid, Nightwing? It's obvious that my sister was the one who took out this ring and reported it." Came the snappy reply back and your breath caught in your chest. Make no mistake, that was your brother's voice.

"We must find her."

He was actually looking for you? He knows you're here? You're not entirely surprised, you haven't exactly been careful or stealthy when it came to concealing your face around Gotham. A mistake on your part but you couldn't have been more relieved.

You still remained quiet, not wanting to disturb the flow, not wanting to interrupt. You had the mind of a soldier but when there was no one to follow you seemed more like a sheep. It made you feel slight shame, that you were unable to stick up for yourself despite being so many things.

Maybe, the league wasn't the best thing for you.

Immediately you scraped the thought from your mind, berating yourself for even thinking that. The league had given you everything, everything you were today was because of them. You were strong and calculating, the leagues proud soldier.

You were proud of your roots, thankful that you grew up to be the person you were. They had given you everything, and your brother was just one of the gifts that you had been blessed with in your life.

"Damian." You spoke softly, stepping out of the shadows. His head snapped towards you, eyes widening when he took in your form. It really was you. His sister.

Damian wasted no time in bounding towards you and you knelt down to meet his eye level, catching him with open arms. A part of your heart sang when you realized he was still small enough to fit in your arms. He still held you close. He still loved you.

"I've missed you, Ya Amar." You spoke softly, cradling his head that was buried in the junction of your neck.

"I as well, Okhti."

***

Damian was ecstatic that you were in Gotham. Of course, it didn't look like it to anyone but everyone who knew him well could tell that he was happy that his sister was home with him. He didn't wait for even two seconds when you got to the Batcave (much to Bruce's surprise) to show you all his pets.

The next few days would be considered the best of his life.

Damian wanted to be as close to you as possible, sitting near you during meals, training with you, talking with you, even going as far to sneak into your temporary bedroom at night for cuddles. He certainly got more comfortable showing affection since the last time you were around.

He showed you his hobbies like painting and sketching and you were impressed. He had the skills to be doing something like this? Damian had picked up many new talents and many new stories since you last saw him and he was eager to share them all with you.

The next few days would be considered the worst of your life.

You had found Damian now, so why didn't you still feel fulfilled? Why did you feel like something was missing? Like this wasn't meant for you? Why weren't you satisfied?

Why did you feel envious that Damian got to experience so many things? Why did you feel resentment against him when you realized you never got the same things he has?

Your life felt like it amounted to nothing.

You loved your brother but so far you had just been living for him. And now that you realized there were parts of the world that you wanted to see. There were thoughts in your mind that were of your own and desires that you didn't have to explain to anyone. As long as it made sense to yourself.

And you realize one thing with an aching heart.

You couldn't stay here in Gotham.

"Does Damian know?" Bruce asked you one day when you had asked him a favour. Bruce so far had been a little cold and unfeeling ever since you had met him in the Batcave uninvited. His feelings towards you got more negative when you gave an offhanded comment about how you thought he was taller. But he was the only one you could ask for a favour. He was the father to your beloved brother and you could only hope he would offer you the same consideration.

You had asked him for a flight to Washington, to see if Diana really meant what she said. To take a leap of faith for the first time in your life.

You shook your head no, "Not yet. I'm hoping he will take the news well. It's not like I'm leaving forever. I just—I need to—" You trailed off, unable to find the right words.

Bruce nodded, "I understand. Just tell him before you go. I don't think I've ever seen him this happy before."

"It makes me feel worse." You admitted, feeling a little guilty. How could you not feel happy at your brother’s happiness?

"You need some time to figure out that your world is yours. No one else should determine how you feel about yourself."

"You are very wise," You said softly, "Thank you."

***

"I love you dearly, Damian." You tried to coerce him from his room where he had locked himself in only 5 minutes ago. No doubt he was sulking since he found out that you would be leaving for DC in two days’ time.

"If you did, you wouldn't be leaving!" His voice was muffled, as if his face was buried in his pillow or even Titus. You had been trying to coax him into open the door for 20 minutes now and had multiple offers from Grayson, which you turned down.

"Oh, for the love of—Damian Wayne, you open this door right now!" It was silent for a moment before you heard the lock click open and took that as the indication from him to step into his room.

It was large and from the moment you stepped in, it was easy to tell the space was his. There were swords mounted on the wall, paintings on the wall adjacent to it. His desk was tidy and in the corner of his room, there were multiple easels and sketch pads.

Damian was sulking on his bed and you sighed, feeling guilty. You sat beside him and ran your fingers through his hair. Even though he was upset with you, he still sank into your touch, feeling comforted by mere contact.

"It's not forever, Damian. Wherever I'm going, I'm going to come back. I just need some time to myself." You tried to explain.

"But why!"

"The league taught me well, Damian. But it taught me to live like a soldier, but not as a person. There are so many things that I don't know about myself. What do I like? What do I want to do with my life? And I need to figure it out for myself."

"Why can't you do that here?"

You gave him a pained look and realization dawned on him, "Because of me."

"Damian, in the time we spent apart you learnt so many things about yourself. That you like animals, that you like art. There are so many blanks in my life and I need the distance to figure it out. I need to understand myself." You explained wistfully.

It was true, there were so many blanks in your life. You didn't even know what food you liked better, what hobbies you enjoyed. You wanted to experience new things, without the influence of Damian, without relying on him. And more importantly, you were scared you would put Damian above yourself time and time again.

It was all you knew. Damian was worth more than your life, worth more than your heart. But if that was true, you wanted to know at least what your heart was worth to you. If you didn't hold any value to yourself, it would be foolish to think you would to anyone else.

You needed the distance. You needed something new. You wanted to dive into uncharted waters and figure out the magic for yourself, without anyone to help you.

"It's not forever," You reminded gently, "I'm going to come back, I can promise you that."

Damian began leaning until his head was settled in your lap and you chuckled, gently scratching his scalp and he nestled into your belly. Hard to believe this was the same boy who left only a year ago. You wondered if you would change as much as he did or if you were stuck in your ways now.

"Okay," He said, voice muffled and you smiled, "I hope you find what you're looking for."

"Thank you for your blessing, Ya Amar. It means the world to me. I love you; you know that."

"I do." He said, now wrapping his arms around your waist, "I love you too."

Forever Taglist:

@simonsbluee

DC Taglist:

@emmacata

@p--e--a--c--h--e--s

@sometimeseverythingsucks

@sokkas-honour

@unstable1902

@lostgirlheart

@missdisapear

@tadpole-san

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starvine · 3 years

Text

first date headcanons

attack on titan (modern au)

summary: some first date headcanons with some of the attack on titan characters.

warnings: none, just fluff :)

eren jaeger: movie

a little basic but it’s all eren could come up with

besides, it was between a movie and dinner and dinner felt too formal so y’all decided on a movie

he’d let you pick the movie tho

he might argue with you if it’s something stupid and claim that it’s horribly written (as if he knows a thing) but that’s it

eren would make sure to get the BEST snacks. spicy food? check. candy? check. popcorn? check. fruits? check.

he just wants to impress you (even if he did have to confide in his friends for some advice)

he just really likes you

during the movie, you guys would start shifting closer to each other, both a little too timid to move all the way all at once

but you guys would make commentary throughout the movie, laughing when things seem too cliché or when a character says something funny

half way throughout the movie, you guys aren’t even really paying attention it it

you’re too busy throwing popcorn at each other and trying to catch it in your mouths, feeding each other candy, and giggling at each other

it’s intimate in its own relaxed way, which makes eren realize how perfect you are

you both could make the most out of a pretty average first date situation and make it into a beyond amazing first date

and that was all he needed to ask you on a second date before he dropped you off at your car, walking with you to make sure you got there safely

and ngl you’d be a bit of a fool to say no to eren

armin arlert: aquarium

sweetheart is so nervous

before he came to your apartment to pick you up for your date, he was a little nervous wreck

he was fidgeting with his fingers, playing with the buttons on his shirt--he probably accidentally opened one by accident

but once he saw you, he felt fine

it was as if he physically melted, you just make everything okay

once you guys got to the aquarium, he would NOT shut up

he was probably pointing things out, telling you fun facts, asking you what is your favorite marine life

“oh, you like pufferfish? that’s cool! i like them too. they’re very... puffy.”

he’s like a child in a candy store

but while he’s rambling about how the digestive system of a sea cucumber basically cleans the ocean, he’s wondering how he should make a move

he doesn’t want to scare you off or anything, but he doesn’t want you to be disappointed

but while you guys are looking at one of those large fish tanks, the ones where you walk through a tunnel, you guys just sort of stand there and watch in awe

or rather armin watches in awe while you look at him, a soft smile gracing his pink lips as his eyes dart across the illustriously blue colored glass

and when he feels your pinky latch onto his, he’s a little shocked that you had made the first move

he didn’t not expect it per say, he just thought that he would be the one to make the first move

but his overthinking got in the way

and when he turns to look down at your intertwined pinkies, he caught you sending him a delicate smile that made his heart squeeze until he felt as if every part of him was on fire

but it was him who finally held your hand fully

he just needed you to give him the extra push

mikasa ackerman: book store

it’s a very calming atmosphere, which is something you’d both need for this first date

mikasa is probably pretty anxious for the first date, and wants to make sure you’re okay and enjoying yourself while also making sure she’s okay and enjoying herself

so the calming scent of the book store and the quietness is perfect for her to multitask between mediating the two

you’d both be tasked with picking each other books and then buying them for each other

so initially mikasa was nervous because she wasn’t sure what to get you but then you asked what she liked to read and so that allowed her to ask the same, making the situation less stressful

and all while you two are walking from isle to isle, eyes scanning the various book titles and covers, she sneaks glances at you and how pretty you look

and the fact that you seem very deep in thought, heavily concentrated on getting her the right book, makes her feel less concerned on whether or not you’d rather be with her or not

the answer is obviously a yes but mikasa has a hard time understanding that sometimes

so when you give her the book you bought for her, making sure to lightly touch her fingers while you hand it to her, she already knows that another date is what she wants you both to have or else she’ll probably explode

and based off of how flushed she looks, the possibility of her exploding is not highly unlikely

you guys will sit at this little table in the corner of the store, reading your books

i can picture mikasa annotating certain lines that remind her of you, making mental notes to show you later

overall, the date is pretty lowkey and very sweet

connie springer: dave + busters/bowling

ok there’s not much of an explanation for this one besides the point that if feels right

like connie is pretty energetic and i feel like you can learn a lot about a person based off of the games they’re drawn to

hence the arcade

i think connie really likes those racing games or the zombie shooting games

he also claims he’s really good at ski ball (he’s not, he’s trash)

so a good portion of the date consists of you just laughing at him the whole time cuz in all honestly he’s not the best at games but he enjoys them for the fun of them

he’d definitely cheer you on when you were playing or try to mess you up if it was you two against each other

but either way he’d give you a hug or a pat on the head after every game

even if u beat him

he’d probably try to sneak a kiss when you guys were in one of those shooting games that requires a booth and the curtains drawn (does that make sense?)

it’s not really romantic like at all, especially since it smells like a million different people in there, but it’s very low stress so in all honesty that’s what makes the kiss nice

and after you guys had used up all your tokens, you’d combine your tickets and pick something together

your prizes would mostly consist of candy and him insisting he get you a plastic gem ring so you can always remember your first date together

it was also his little, strange way of asking you for a second date

levi ackerman: art museum

unlike connie, he’s not super energetic

so a museum is right up his alley

levi’s a bit awkward, he doesn’t really know how to talk to you

and especially since you’re lovely, his words jumble together and he gets all flustered

so a nice, quiet museum exhibit is perfect for him

it’s a nice balance between casual and formal, so you both dress nice but aren’t restricted by the need to be super polite and stuff

he’d probably like it when you try to imitate the poses that are shown in the paintings or sculptures

just imagine the soft chuckle he’d be unable to prevent from escaping his lips which then melts into a soft smirk

beautiful, beautiful lad

he probably wouldn’t join you though, he doesn’t want to embarrass himself

he just smiles at you and stares at the art, reading the background info they give on those little plates near them

but he would notice when you stare at him

he could be looking at some art made during the dutch golden age, but as soon as your head slightly tilted in his direction, his cheeks would HEAT up

you almost asked him if he was feeling alright he was so red

but as the date went on, levi really just thought about how much he enjoyed your presence

and he’s not a wicked talkative guy so being able to feel comfortable with someone even if you aren’t talking or doing much is pretty important to him

as the date concludes, levi finally works up the courage to place his hand on your shoulder, asking if there was anything else you wanted to see before the museum closes for the day

his face might be bright red, but the smile you give him makes him feel a little less embarrassed

what can you say, you’ve got charm 💅

hange: the fucking zoo

ok i won’t lie when i got the idea of hange taking you to the zoo for your first date i thought it was so funny and idk why

like they’d be so excited that they’d nearly forget that they’re on a date with you

they’d drag you around from exhibit to exhibit, pointing out the exact breed of tortoise or some really strange fact about the zebras without looking at the little description panel in front of the exhibit

it’s pretty comical

but then randomly, when you guys are sitting down and eating some fries from one of the concession stands, they start going on a rant about animal cruelty and how a lot of zoos don’t treat the animals properly

and you’re just sitting there like “what 🧍‍♀️” cuz they’re mood changed so quickly LMAO

and as soon as their rant started, it finishes and they’re rushing you to the reptile exhibit

they’d probably try to figure out if they could hold one of the snakes

you’d have to drag them out of there before they start harassing one of the workers into letting them hold a snake

they’d also give all of the animals names only to forget them in 2 seconds

“hey, robert, it’s good to see you again!” “hange, i thought you named them dante?” “oh... did i? 😁”

however there’s probably like one animal they absolutely despise and idk why but i feel like it’s parrots

y’all would be walking through this rainforest exhibit, birds flying from tree to tree and the whole time they’re cursing the birds under their breath for no reason at all

just an angry person walking through a rainforest exhibit, cursing out birds

pretty normal if you ask me

however, the date itself is pretty casual and almost feels like you guys are just hanging out

or it would if they didn’t ask you out on another date before dropping you off at home, kissing your cheek as their farewell

pieck finger: café

very simple and quaint

i feel like pieck has a coffee addiction and always puts her in a better mood

so what better place to go on a date then a café?

she’s definitely an iced coffee drinker, and will occasionally go for a hot drink but usually iced coffee is her go-to

and if you get a coffee or tea that she also happens to like, you’re already practically golden in her eyes

since pieck has a very soothing and lowkey nature, i can see the date being much more just like a conversation with someone you’ve known for forever instead of interview-y which is something i’ve found coffee/lunch/dinner dates to be a bit like

but pieck knows how to keep things interesting and she’s a pretty calming person to be around so all is well

i also can’t see her getting super nervous before the date

she seems pretty calm unless in high-stress situations, but even then, she’s pretty level-headed

but since she’s so calm, it makes you wonder if she really cares for the date

and of COURSE she does, she’s so excited about it

it’s just the way pieck is

but as the date continues, she’d probably start to tease you by playing footsies under the table

you gotta keep the date interesting, you know?

you guys would talk about your interests, family, friends, shows you’re watching

literally just anything and everything that’ll allow you guys to get a feel for each other

and if all goes well she’ll definitely suggest another date ;)

also don’t expect to leave without her either writing something cute on your cup, pressing a lip-stick stained kiss to your cheek that matches the one surrounding the rim of her cup, or a promise that your game of footsies will continue next time you see each other

297 notes · View notes

kujakumai · 3 years

Text

cleaned up old WIP, 2800 words, AU where Yami Bakura succeeds in switching hosts in DK and Mokuba makes friends with an evil ghost. Not going to be continued but it literally would not leave my brain alone until I finished it.

Things were not going according to plan.

The plan was to take control of a soulless puppet, an easy vessel incapable of interfering with his ends. He had the vessel, had accomplished that much, but he was not expecting the pharaoh and his little friends to succeed and convince Pegasus to give everyone their souls back. So now not only was there a second person in this body he had to keep suppressed, but now he was stuck impersonating a child, smiling through an awkward reunion and then placed onto a helicopter next to a gangly high school student who was watching him like a hawk.

The spirit-that-was-no-longer-Yami-Bakura knew that he was supposed to be Mokuba, but he did not remember the tall one's name. K-something. He had a stupid jacket and hardly took his eyes off him the entire ride, as if he thought his little brother was going to disappear in a puff of smoke when he wasn't looking. Annoying. Infuriating. Luckily it did not seem he wanted to talk, or at least accepted silence. No one expects recent kidnapping victims to say much, which was a boon. A little dazed, a little quiet, a little off, and no one really found it unusual.

They dropped off the pharaoh and his friends, and finally landed at a gaudy and ostentatious house so large it took him a second to realize it was a home at all, an absurd monument to decadence with grounds full of ugly topiaries. Wealth, then. Perhaps this wouldn't be so bad. He could work with this. The rich kid in the stupid coat quietly held his hand the entire walk up the driveway, until they entered a foyer just as gilded and obscene as the outside had been.

No, things were not going to plan, and playing grade-schooler was awkward and an insult to his dignity, and he was farther away from the other millennium items as he ever had been. He would have to grit his teeth through it until he could figure out the next step. In the meantime, perhaps, enjoy some amenities.

Richie rich sighed, relaxed his shoulders the moment they got inside. He looked at who he thought was his little brother and gave him a small, exhausted but genuine smile. He struggled with what to say next.

"Mokuba," he said, "I have to check on a few things in my office. See what kind of damage they did. Do you want to come with me?"

"No." Finally, a chance to be out of this idiot's sight.

This answer seemed to surprise him, a twitch of skepticism. "Will you be okay by yourself?"

He nodded. Keep answers short, when you're impersonating.

His face betrayed more skepticism, concern, and the tiniest hint of disappointment. As if rich kid himself was the one who was scared to be alone in his own house. He accepted the answer, though, to the spirit's relief.

Rich kid bent down and pulled him into a tight hug and ruffled his hair. "We'll get something special for dinner, okay? And ice cream."

"I do like ice cream." This was true. Ryou Bakura almost never bought ice cream, and when he did it was the stupid healthy kind that everyone knew shouldn't even really qualify as ice cream, which was another reason he was a terrible host. That and the fact that he was startlingly pale and had the upper body strength of a limp noodle and the personality of skim milk. This would be better, even if he had to deal with the abrupt drop in height.

Rich kid headed off towards the staircase with another tired but trying-to-be-reassuring smile, and it was then that the spirit of the ring felt an annoyance in the back of his brain. A presence. A scratching, biting, flailing presence, screeching mad, which he had been suppressing for a while now but finally broke through.

get out get out get out get out give it back its MINE get out

The host, awake. What a bother. More rambunctious than Bakura, then? No matter. He could handle a child.

that was MY hug and MY headpat and MY big brother and you can't have them he's been gone for ages and they're mine not yours get out get out get out

The spirit pushed back, ignored him. Shush. He had planned to hold this body alone, and he did not intend to go back to sharing. If you're good, I might let you have it back for a little while later.

shut up go away go away go away go AWAY

And then Mokuba Kaiba did something, something the spirit was not accustomed to or expecting at all, something which Ryou Bakura had never been willing or able to do. He shoved, violently, and the spirit of the ring was ripped out of control with some amount of panic.

"SETOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"

Why you insolent little--

Seto Kaiba was not aware of the mental turf war happening over his little brothers body. What he did see was his brother scream his name and fall down, and the whole room echoed with a metal clatter as his briefcase fell on the floor and he ran towards him.

The ring had been discarded unceremoniously to a side table, and not-Bakura-and-not-Mokuba-either had no choice but to wait and observe, as a pediatrician on a sudden housecall shined lights in the boy's eyes and rich kid, who the spirit had since gleaned was named Seto Kaiba, looked on in worry.

"You said you heard a voice?" The doctor asked.

"Uh-huh. I think it lives in the necklace."

"You got that thing at Pegasus's house?" Kaiba asked, in disbelief.

"I don't remember. I was just wearing it when I woke up."

"What did the voice say?" the doctor continued, professionally ignoring any talk about magic necklaces.

"Not a lot. It was kind of mean."

"I see." She turned to Kaiba. "He's fine, physically. You might want a psychologist." and Seto Kaiba made what could politely be referred to as A Face. This was not what he wanted to hear, this was news that worried and annoyed him in equal measure, and to some degree was news he had half-expected.

"He's had a rough few months. I'll look into it." and she was dismissed, and Mokuba hopped down from the counter.

"Can we order pizza?" he asked, with big pleading eyes.

Kaiba watched him with dry amusement. "Mokuba, you can have anything you want from any restaurant in a forty mile radius."

"And I want pizza. Real pizza, from somewhere that doesn't also serve caviar."

"Cheap pizza?"

He nodded very seriously. "The grossest greasiest cheapest."

"I can do that. Anything else you want?"

Mokuba's eyes lit up, and soon he was dragging Kaiba by the hand towards somewhere else in the house. "I got to this really hard level in my game I can't get past and I wanted to see if you could beat it, and I found this really cool video I wanted to show you, and I got a really good report card you never saw, and--" and months worth of pent up requests were tumbling out rapid fire, and Kaiba was smiling with affection and some amount of relief.

Loud and clingy, then, was the normal and expected behavior. The spirit of the ring made note of this, as he lie abandoned.

The ring was still sitting on a side table, in Mokuba's bedroom, apparently because no one knew what to with it or thought it mattered much. This was a problem. The spirit couldn't do anything without a host, and now everyone was suspicious, these stupid rich people worried too much and paid too much attention.

He was forced to sit there all night, pondering about how he was going to get out of this mess, when at one or two in the morning he observed Mokuba wake up, and rub his eyes, and hop out of bed. He did not turn the light on, but he did check the time, and reach under his bed to retrieve what appeared to be a small backpack. He took it with him as he moved quietly towards the door, and the spirit saw his chance.

Hey, kid. He was near enough to speak into his head. Maybe this wasn't a dead end.

"You!" Mokuba stopped in his tracks and looked right at the ring.

Yes, me. This could be salvaged, he thought, concocting a plan. This was a child. Play friendly ghost and imaginary friend. Surely it would not be hard to weasel himself into the good graces of a sixth grader.

Mokuba glared at the ring with suspicion. "I don't think Seto believed me when I said you could talk, but I knew it." He picked it up delicately by the string to examine.

Where on earth are you going at this time of night?

Mokuba was the current host, technically, so there was a connection, and 11 year olds are not particularly used to or adept at hiding their own thoughts, especially inside their own heads. The answer, if not in words but in abstract concept, was provided instantly as it bubbled to mind. He was going to the kitchen, as he did once or twice a week, not their personal kitchen but the house staff kitchen, where he would move a chair to stand on the counter to reach the very back of the highest shelf of the third cupboard to the left, which was where one of the cleaning staff kept a pile of chocolate so he could cheat on his diet without his wife knowing, a fact Mokuba knew through surreptitious eavesdropping. Mokuba's end was to steal just enough of it that he wouldn't be noticed, and add it to a stash of snacks and other shiny trinkets currently hidden in the bottom of a pile of legos in his closet.

...You steal food to hide in your closet? Why would a child who lived in a three-story mansion need to steal?

Mokuba was only mildly perturbed by the fact that someone had just read his mind. He was mainly curious, now. "Our dad didn't like junk food, so I always took stuff to keep around." he explained, "I guess I don't really have to anymore, 'cuz Seto will let me have whatever I want, but--" he faltered, unable to finish or give a reason.

There wasn't a reason, and Mokuba knew that. There was no need to sneak or stash or steal anymore, but he kept doing it, irrationally, for reasons that confused him, a complicated swirl of things a child could not name or understand but were very easy for the spirit to read. Fear; compulsion; habit; the illusion of safety; the sense that your life was precarious, unstable; a need to exert control over your surroundings. It was not the food or the stealing that mattered, but of the hiding, of having something they could not take away from him.

Mokuba didn't understand any of that, because he was 11 and 11 year olds don't understand why they do anything. He just knew he liked sweets and hated people telling him what to do and that having bags of chips and other people’s lost jewelry at the bottom of an old toybox made him feel better.

Can I come with you?

"No! You tried to take control of me!"

Yes, but you kicked me out, and you'd probably be able to do it again, so I would be stupid to try. I also like chocolate, you see, and it's very boring to be stuck here on your desk.

"Can you even eat? You're a necklace."

I can when I borrow a body.

"You tried to take over me so you could eat chocolate? I'm not stupid enough to believe that."

That and other things. I can't do very much at all, while stuck in the ring. No food, no sunshine, no running around. It's no fun to be without a body, which is why I am occasionally driven to steal one. Terribly sorry about that. he added, in his most pathetic-sounding tone, Please? I don't have anyone else to talk to.

Mokuba was hesitant, but clearly found the fact of his existence too interesting to ignore. "Fine." He picked up the ring and dropped it unceremoniously into his backpack, which had a dragon on it.

Not trust yet, but tolerance and curiosity. One step at a time.

You shouldn't go barefoot, you know. Socks will be quieter if you're trying not to get caught.

"I didn't ask you."

So Mokuba descended down the stairwell, in the dead quiet and dark of the Kaiba Mansion, with no flashlight because he knew it well enough to navigate blindfolded. The place was decadent in the ugly way rich people's houses were, luxury but without taste, soft carpets and gilded banisters.

Mokuba had not quite realized yet how to think at the ring, so he spoke in a low whisper. "What are you, anyway?"

A ghost. So much more complicated than that, but simple words were suitable for children.

"How'd you end up a ghost in a necklace?"

I died, and then someone put me in a necklace.

"That's not an answer." he followed up, "Do all dead people become ghosts?"

No. Just sometimes, maybe, if the way they died was especially violent or gruesome or terrible.

Mokuba frowned. He had caught on remarkably quickly to guarding his own head, but the spirit could tell he didn't like this answer.

This was delicate, but he risked a push. Was there someone you had in mind?

Mokuba said nothing. He reached the staff kitchen on the lowest floor, and opened the door, slow and careful. He was deciding whether to say anything, as he climbed up as quietly as he could and reached far into the back of the cupboard, scrabbling.

"Our dad killed himself last year. Jumped out a window." He finally said, hopping down with his spoils. He said this the same way one might dolefully report the milk had gone bad. Unfortunate but boring.

You don't sound very sad.

"Nah, he sucked. And he never liked me." he said, "Seto was really really upset though. He was pretending not to be, but I could tell." Now there were feelings there, big and weird and sad and clinging ones. For reasons the spirit could not discern, the simple phrase ‘Seto was upset’ carried with it more weight, a thousand million times more weight, than news of a father's tragic death by defenestration. "I hope he's not a ghost. I don't wanna see him again."

Probably not.

Mokuba sat down cross-legged on the kitchen floor, unwrapped candy in silver foil. "You really can't do anything from in the necklace? Like, ghost stuff? Make things float or anything?"

No. It is a bit like being trapped in a very small box.

Mokuba mulled this over for a little while. "If you wanted to borrow a body to do fun stuff, you could have just asked."

Really?

He nodded. "Not being able to eat chocolate sounds lame. It'd be mean to just leave you like that." He put one chocolate into his mouth and dumped the rest in the backpack, where they covered the ring unceremoniously. More indignities. "Not in front of my brother, though. And you have to give it back whenever I say so."

...I could agree to such a compromise. Your candy haul is impressive, by the way.

"Thanks!" He grinned, emanating genuine pride. No one had ever complimented him for stealing before.

Tragic, the work of great thieves. How the very best of it can never be bragged about, the most impressive of skills gone unnoticed by nature, how the very success of a perfect crime relies on keeping your mouth shut about it. An unappreciated art, where even mastery gains you no respect.

You don't care that this poor man has to go out and buy twice as much food to make up for what you steal?

"No, he's a jerk. One time when I was six they confiscated my gameboy, so I went to steal it back and he caught me and told my dad and I got in huge trouble. So every day for a week I snuck down here and moved his keys to a different place so he couldn't find them. They were all so mad at him for losing them all the time, and he thought he was crazy."

Why was your gameboy confiscated?

"Don't remember. I think I bit someone at school." he shrugged, "They probably deserved it, though."

Mokuba Kaiba. he said, I think you and I are going to be excellent friends.

"Okay. Do ghosts watch cartoons?"

#unsure if this is good enough to post to AO3 #but it was fun!

99 notes · View notes

ratmonky · 3 years

Text

Out of Body Experience

Word Count: 4.9K

Warnings: semi-public

AO3 Link

[You matched with Maru!]

[Send Maru a message!]

Maru: Hey.

(username): hiii!!

Maru: You look cute in your pictures on your profile.

(username): omg you think so?? i’m really happy!! i thought you had a rlly cool bio,,, i guess i did the right choice to like your bio

Maru: Thanks. I was surprised to get a notification that we matched. You’re way out of my league.

(username): don’t say that maruuu~ i bet you look handsome irl

Maru: I don’t.

(username): hmm, wanna prove it?? >.<

Maru: I don’t know.

(username): don’t be shy!! ur bio said you lived in kyoto, wanna meet up this saturday?

Maru: You’ll be disappointed.

(username): i promise i won’t!!! i like meeting new ppl!!! besides if we didn’t click we can still be friends?? i feel like you and i will be close no matter what!!

Maru: Are you sure? We just met.

(username): yep!!! come ooooonnnnn it’ll be fun to hang out!!

Maru: Fine.

(username): yay!!! let’s meet in front of the train station!! ahh i’m so excitedddd i can’t waittt TwT

Maru: Me too.

(username): <3

[Maru: <3………….. (send)]

Kokichi paused and deleted the message.

Maru: See you.

~~~

Kokichi’s first impression of you was that you were naive and careless. You wanted to meet up with him without any hesitation, what if he was someone who could harm you?

He stared at his screen and at your pictures.

You were gorgeous, he had never seen someone as pretty as you. On top of all that you wanted to meet him.

It made him feel special, wanted even.

~~~

When a notification sound filled his ears, Kokichi immediately checked if it was from you.

(username): maruuuuu!!!! i missed u ))):

He stared at the message and read it three times but didn’t quite understand why you would miss him.

Maru: What?

(username): i thought you’d text me but u didn’t,,, i couldn’t sleep cuz i was thinking about u

Maru: I didn’t think you wanted me to text you.

(username): )):

Maru: ?

(username): )))):

Maru: (:

(username): (((((:

Maru: You’re childish aren’t you?

(username): what about it q;

Maru: Nothing. How old are you anyway?

(username): old enough to drinkkkk!!!

Maru: Me too. Which Jujutsu college are you going to?

(username): ohh, hehe… i dropped out cuz it wasn’t my thing

Maru: That’s irresponsible. Did you drop because you couldn’t keep up with your curse classes or was it for some other reason?

(username): maruuuu stop talking about jujutsu with meee!!!

Maru: Then what should we talk about?

(username): about our date >.<

Maru: Date?

(username): did u forget already )):

Maru: Forget what?

(username): our date on saturday )):

Maru: That’s a date?

(username): TwT ur making me sad maru

Maru: I don’t understand it, we just said we’d meet up.

(username): this is a dating website for ppl like us ///:

Maru: You want to date me?

(username): idk anymore,,, seems like ur a heartbreaker and i feel like u don’t feel a connection between us as i do

Maru: Wait! Don’t jump to conclusions all by yourself! You don’t even know what I look like, how can you be so sure that you want to date me?

(username): i mean,,, we matched for a reason,,, i liked ur bio and wanted to get to know u better is that bad??

Maru: No. No, it isn’t. I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings. I'm new to this sort of stuff.

(username): apology accepted!!!! ahhhh ur so cute,,, i can’t wait to meet u

Maru: Same here.

~~~

His classmates knew something was up. Robotic demeanor was gone and instead, it was actually a part of himself as Kokichi that was showing through.

“Mechamaru looks happy nowadays,” Kamo noted.

“It’s relieving that he shows us a softer side of himself,” Miwa added. “Makes me feel happy for him.”

“I wonder what caused him to become this way.” Kamo was talking to himself but Todo took it upon himself to answer.

“He has finally found himself a Takada-chan.” Todo grinned. “Reminds me, I never asked him what his type of woman is.”

There was a moment of silence before Todo walked out into the campus garden to make his way towards Mechamaru.

Mechamaru didn’t notice his presence as he was watering the flowers.

“Yo.”

“Todo. Did you need something?”

“What’s your type of woman?”

Caught off guard, Mechamaru dropped the watering can. “I… I think someone who’s kind and cheerful.” Someone who’s submissive.

“Like I guessed.” Todo held his chin between the knuckle of his forefinger and thumb as he hummed thoughtfully. “You’re as lifeless as your puppet.”

~~~

What did that suppose to mean?

Kokichi was just telling the truth.

Right?

~~~

Days passed until Friday came.

Kokichi talked to you almost every day and whenever he could. He seemed to enjoy your company more than he thought he would when the two of you first matched.

He woke up to your messages and went to sleep only after he texted you goodnight.

Today, he felt like his heart was going to jump out of his ribcage, he could hear his own pulse when it got too quiet and it was dead silent in his hideout… as always.

All he could think about was your date tomorrow. He had made sure to dress up Mechamaru nicely for the occasion and checked the weather report thrice so the date wouldn’t be ruined because of anything out of his control.

There was still something that made him extremely anxious. What if you didn’t like him? What if everything went terribly and you blocked his number?

He needed something to distract him from these negative thoughts.

Maru: Hey.

(username): maruuuu!!!! what r u doin??

Maru: Going to sleep soon, I think.

(username): without me (;

Maru: Never.

(username): i’m blushing

Maru: How are you?

(username): fine, i'm doing skincare tonight to get ready for our date!!

Maru: About that...

(username): ....

(username): are you going to cancel our date?

Maru: No! I’m just anxious about it.

(username): good cuz i’d block u

Maru: I don’t think you would.

(username): you don’t know me

Maru: Because you never told me about yourself.

(username): ^-^; haha yeah,,, so,,, what would you like to know?

Maru: Everything.

Without even noticing the passing time, Kokichi chatted with you until he couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore.

He learned everything about you. From the earliest memory, you could recall about your first interaction with a cursed spirit to your latest obsession with an online game about cute animals.

His eyelids were getting heavier, he texted you goodnight and how he was excited to meet you tomorrow.

When he closed his eyes, this time he managed to fall asleep.

~~~

You pressed your phone to your chest and kicked at your sheets. The excitement was eating you up, the butterflies in your stomach wouldn’t calm down either. All because of someone you met online a couple of days ago.

It wasn’t something new to you to meet up with people you met online but this felt a lot different.

Previous times, you had used different dating apps or social media websites to make friends but this was the first time you had used a dating website specifically for people who knew the existence of curses.

Jujutsu sorcerers often found it hard to find someone they could click with because of their field of work but this website had risen up to popularity from day one. Your old classmates from your jujutsu college wouldn’t shut up about it so you gave it a go after their insisting.

Maru was one of the first people you matched with on the website. In his profile, he had written about how he wanted to find someone he could be himself with and date them.

That’s why tomorrow, you had to be on your best behavior so he could be himself around you.

~~~

You were twenty minutes early.

It wasn’t your intention to arrive this early but whether it be the excitement to meet up with Maru or not wanting to make him wait if your train was late-

Wait, those were all connected.

Letting out a sigh, you checked your phone. Yep, still twenty minutes. Once you put it back in your purse, your eyes scouted around the station. There weren’t any empty spaces for you to sit so you were standing by a meeting point next to the maps, hoping Maru would see you.

Although you didn’t know what he looked like, you had put effort into how you looked today so you could impress him. Deep inside, you hoped he would take notice of your appearance and compliment you but some men were just too dense.

From the way he had started texting you, he gave you the impression that he was one of those stoic and dense men but as you started to get to know him better, he turned out to be quite a friendly person. Very talkative and caring.

You pressed a hand on your cheek, you were burning up. Geez, were you really blushing this much because of him?

When you told your friends about this date, they had told you not to have too many expectations about Maru. They believed you were being catfished but it wasn’t possible, you didn’t want to meet him because of his appearance after all.

“Um, excuse me-”

Startled, you lifted your head to stare at a… robot?

You stepped away from its way, thinking that you were standing in front of its charging station or something. How long had it been since you had gone out? Had robots already taken over? Or was this one of those public pranks?

The robot was staring at you even after you moved away.

“(username)?”

You lifted your gaze and looked at the robot with wide eyes. “M-M-Maru?”

It nodded, “Mechamaru.”

No, it wasn’t a robot. You could sense cursed energy oozing from it. More like a cursed doll. Nevertheless, you were speechless.

There was a long pause before you spoke. “Ah, I...” You looked around as if you were searching for an exit and anxiously clutching on your purse.

Great, you were going to make up an excuse and go away. Just like he thought you would.

“I thought I was going to meet you, not a puppet.”

“I’m here,” he said, static sizzling noise coming from him was like nails on a chalkboard. “I just can’t be physically here because of my condition.”

“You could’ve told me about it first… ahh, sorry.” You sounded more annoyed than you would have liked but quickly covered it up by bowing your head to greet him. “Nevermind, I’m (name).”

“Are we going to use real names?”

“Well, I’m not gonna call you Megaman.” There was a smile.

“Mechamaru,” he corrected. After a short silence, he added, “Kokichi.”

“Nice to meet you Kokichi, I hope we can get along well.” You bowed yet again.

“Why are you being so formal?”

“It’s cuz…” You pointed at him.

“What?”

“Well…” You used both hands to gesture his whole body.

“If you say it’s because I’m a robot or anything similar to that, I’ll go home.” He sounded serious, or maybe it was because of the static.

You pouted and leaned forward on your tiptoes, “If I can’t even joke around then I’ll go home.”

“I thought you were looking forward to our date.” When you blushed at his words he spoke again. “You look cuter than your pictures.”

“Ahh, you really think so?” You started walking and he followed after you.

“I do.” He was keeping a large space between the two of you, whenever you tried to walk closer to him, he would move away but now when you were caught in the station with the crowd who were going home after work hours, you had to stay close to him.

You were being pushed against Kokichi thanks to the crowd trying to walk out of the station and he didn’t complain about it. Kokichi didn’t look at you, he thought about the things he read on the internet instead.

‘If you want your date to consider you as manly, you have to invest yourself to talk to her.’

“Your dress looks cute.” Kokichi came up with ‘the compliment her outfit’ route, he had seen men flirt before, he could do it too.

He stared down for a moment to see your reaction.

Bingo!

You smiled brighter than the sun, you played with your hair to give him a playful answer. “Thank you, I wore this just for our date.” Your eyes shined with small sparkles in them. “I really like your collar.” You pointed at his face, not too close, hesitant to invade his personal space. I’m here with his puppet not him, you reminded yourself.

“Thanks.”

When the two of you finally exited the station, you walked alongside him.

“Where to?” He nonchalantly asked while you were looking around the streets.

“What about karaoke?” You gave him an inviting smile, “It’d be fun.”

“Whatever you say.” He wasn’t sure which way you were taking. There was the main street and Kyoto's red-light district, of course, he knew you wouldn’t be going there. “Which street are we going for?”

You pointed to your right, “The main street, there is a karaoke place I know.” Your smile altered when you noticed how this time when you walked together to cross the street, it was close, your shoulder touched his fake biceps.

“I’m not good at singing for obvious reasons.” Back in his bathtub, Kokichi said it in a joking manner but thanks to the cursed puppet, it sounded a lot as if he was annoyed about the idea of going into karaoke. He bit his tongue and cringed, waiting for your reaction.

“You can still try, can’t you?” You gave him the best puppy eyes you could. “For me?”

Kokichi blushed but you weren’t able to see it through Mechamaru. “Y-yeah.”

“Oh, I didn’t know robots could stutter.”

“I didn’t stutter and I’m not a robot. This is a cursed puppet and sometimes the commands I give are interrupted, that’s why I-”

“You’re so easy to tease just as I guessed!”

Kokichi covered his mouth with his hand, watching you giggle at him through his screen.

“Here it is.” Pointing at a sign, you grabbed his arm and dragged him with you.

While you were showing him the prices, he was busy staring down at your shirt. He could… he could see your cleavage.

“The menu says they serve alcohol at this hour! Ahh, the prices are cheaper than the last time too! We can share the tab-” You stopped yourself from talking. Silence brought him out of his trance. “Oops, sorry. You can’t eat or drink through Megaman, right?”

“Mechamaru,” he corrected. “No, I can’t… But it’s on me anyway.”

“You’ll pay?” Your eyes sparkled brighter than the stars. Your pouting lips and hand on his chest didn’t help.

Kokichi looked away, blushing. “Y-yeah.”

“Y-you’re the best!” Mocking his stuttering, you offered him a cute smile. Then you went on to drag him inside while telling him about how this place was the best karaoke place in Kyoto because they served desserts and your favorite cocktail. All the while renting a room for the two of you.

“Would you like to share with others?” The employee asked.

“No.” Your answer was instantaneous.

Behind the register, the employee stared at Kokichi and down at you. It was easy to tell he thought the two of you were a mismatch. “Your room is to the left, you can order through the smart tablet. Have fun.”

“Thanks,” you said before walking past the register. When Kokichi caught up with you, you turned around. “Did you see the way he stared? So lame!”

“Well, anyone would have stared if they saw a pretty girl next to a robot.”

“So, you’re accepting you’re a robot?” You grinned, opening the door to the private room.

“That’s not what I meant!” He didn’t know what he was expecting. From the way you texted, he should have known you were this childish and unable to have a serious conversation.

“Hmm?”

“Nothing.” He closed the door behind him as you were ordering as many drinks as you could. Once he noticed you were about to order the entire menu, he barely managed to stop you by taking the smart tablet away from your hands. “Hey, I’m not rich!”

“It’s cheap, trust me!” You pouted your lips again, reaching for the smart tablet he was holding above your head.

His stare found the menu and froze. It was cheaper than he had thought like you said. He had never been somewhere like this, nobody could blame him for it.

“Sorry, I didn’t notice,” he said as he handed the device back to you.

“I was showing you the menu earlier, you weren’t listening, were you?” Your smile widened, eyes squinting knowingly.

“I was listening! You’re talking way too much, I can’t keep up!”

You crossed your legs, continuing to add stuff to your order.

It got quiet.

Realizing what he had said was rude, he apologized.

“It doesn’t sound genuine.”

“It’s because I’m talking through a puppet.”

“Exactly.”

You weren’t looking at him. Putting the tablet aside, you leaned back on the soft cushions. The mood had changed. When you weren’t talking, it was too quiet.

Decidedly, he walked over to the karaoke machine and grabbed two microphones. He sat next to you, placing one of the microphones next to you as he reached for the tablet.

There were way too many songs in the system and he knew none of them.

Scrolling further, he found Takada-chan’s songs.

“You like Takada-chan?” you asked, noticing how he had stopped scrolling.

“No,” he replied. “My friend-” Was he really his friend? “My friend likes her, he won’t stop talking about her and all.”

“I like her,” you said. “I’ve been to her meet and greets many times but they’re always ruined by some buff dude who has the most tickets. He’s always at the events, kinda creepy but seems like he supports her. He once beat up some guy who insulted her.”

Kokichi didn’t say anything. He didn’t want that guy to be the icebreaker on his date.

“Creepy,” he uttered before putting the tablet on your lap. “You should sing, I don’t know any of these songs.”

“None of them?” You raised a brow.

“None.”

“You’re so boring,” you murmured, clicking on the first song you saw.

The loud music filled the room and his hideout. You tapped on the microphone, “Check, one, two. Kokichi is sooooo boring!”

Your laughter was the next thing that filled his hideout. He chuckled but it came out as a static noise through Mechamaru.

While you were singing, the same employee came with two trays full of drinks and snacks, he left them on the table before leaving immediately. None of you paid any mind as you were changing the lyrics to tease Kokichi.

“Are those really the lyrics?” he asked.

“Yep!”

Another giggle.

Too cute.

Very cute.

He watched you stop singing for a brief moment to chug down your third drink. Your cheeks were flushed red from the booze and your neck was sweaty, you kept fanning your hand towards your face.

His gaze focused on a particular sweat droplet on your neck and idly watched as it drizzled down to your cleavage before disappearing under the fabric of your dress.

Kokichi tried focusing on something else but he found himself unable to tear his eyes away from you. Every single thing you did was seductive. When you bit onto a small rice cake or the way your lips closed around the straw of your drink and how your cheeks hollowed when you tried sucking the last bits of your cocktail in your mouth.

The last drop had to be when you grabbed an ice cube from your drink and held it over the skin of your chest.

His hand pressed on his lower half. He was thankful he wasn’t physically there or he would have been labeled as a pervert. Under the soothing medical liquid, he had a problem you didn’t need to see.

You weren’t singing anymore but the music was playing nonetheless to suppress the silence as Kokichi was practically undressing you with his eyes.

“Heyyy, Kokichi~” you slurred, sitting closer to him. “You’re being too quiet!”

Taken aback, he spoke. “I’m not sure what to say?”

“Just talk…” you whined, putting a hand on his knee.

Oh, how he wished he could feel the warmth of your hand.

“Or better… Sing!” You held a microphone up to his face.

“I can’t sing,” he reminded.

“You said, you’d sing for meee~”

He blushed, taking the microphone from your hand. “I don’t know the lyrics.”

“It’s on the screen.”

Yes, the lyrics were on the screen.

He felt embarrassed, this was stupid. He wasn’t even actually in the room with you but he felt so nervous. His actual hands were shaking as he gulped.

When he started singing, you started laughing.

The static made it sound like he was an actual robot. Yet, Kokichi didn’t stop despite how tone-deaf his voice was coming through Mechamaru. He wanted to make sure you were having fun but the music stopped.

Both of you stared at the notification on the tablet, asking if you wanted to add another hour to your stay.

Had it already been an hour? Time was going fast when you two were having fun.

You looked at Kokichi.

He pressed to accept.

The music continued playing.

This time, Kokichi didn’t sing. The two of you started chatting about everything and anything until there was a lull in the conversation.

“Lemme see your hand,” you said, reaching your own towards him. He slowly placed his hand on your open one and you compared the size. “Wow, your hand is hugee, is your real hand this big?”

Funny, if not absurd. You were on a date with a puppet but you were getting turned on.

“It's the same size as my own hand.” His gaze dropped to his actual body. “At least one of them.”

“Can you feel that?” You intertwined your fingers with his.

“No.” He wasn’t looking and he didn’t need to look. The depressing realization that he was always going to watch people behind a screen and in this damn bathtub was starting to sink in once again.

“Can you feel this?” You were giggling.

“I told you, I can’t feel-” His breathing stopped at the sight of you pressing his hand on your breast.

“I wanna meet you, Kokichi~” Smiling enticingly, you sat closer to him. “It’s no fun when I can’t see if you’re blushing right now.” Your hand over his hand moved on your breast, the supple flesh jiggled under the front of your dress. “Are you blushing right now?”

“I am.” His answer was instant.

“You know,” you started, putting your free hand on his thigh and lifting your leg up on the cushion to face him. “I got all dressed up ‘cause I wanted you to lose your composure. You sounded so uptight and stoic. I wanted to see you lose it.” Tilting your head, you puckered your lips. “But you didn’t even come to our date.”

“I did.”

“Megaman did.”

“Mechamaru.”

“I wanted Kokichi to come.” You pulled his hand away from your breast and led it down to your stomach and even lower. “I wish you were here so you could feel how wet I am.”

“(name),” he said. “I can’t feel my fingers through Mechamaru.”

“Mm?” You placed his hand under the skirt of your dress. “But I can feel them.”

Kokichi’s actual hand started shaking in excitement as Mechamaru’s fingers brushed against your panties.

“Can’t I meet you?” Your voice was faint compared to the music but he heard it. “I wanna meet you.”

“You’ll be disappointed, I don’t look… normal.”

“You don’t look normal right now either.” Biting your lip, you moved against his hand. A soft gasp left your lips. “Yet, I’m so turned on right now.”

There were a thousand different thoughts invading his mind but Kokichi felt like he was hypnotized by your hips.

“Kokichiii, move your fingers,” you whined softly, your eyes hazy with lust.

“I need to see them,” he said. Back in his room, his own hand was pressing down on his growing erection. “Or I may move them wrong.”

“Pervert~” you teased, lifting the skirt of your dress up.

He didn’t say anything, instead focused his attention on your soaked panties. How long had you been this wet? From the moment you two rented the room or-

“Kokichi.” Your needy voice brought him out of his dirty thoughts. “You don’t have a cock under your pants, do you?” Your hand pressed against Mechamaru’s groin.

For the first time in his life, Kokichi felt his entire body jolt. Your vulgar way of asking was enough to get him rock hard. “No-”

“What a waste.” Sulking, you retrieved your hand. “But are you hard right now?”

“I… I am.”

A dangerous glint sparkled through your eyes. “If only you were here… I’d make you feel sooo good.”

Mechamaru’s fingers pressed against your clothed folds before moving along them. A soft moan left your lips and you balanced yourself on your hands.

“I look like a freak-”

“You keep saying that.” Your hips moved against his hand. “As if that matters to me.”

Mechamaru slid your panties to the side and spread your folds with two of his fingers, he carefully watched as wet strands connecting them together broke apart. Kokichi’s own hand was pumping his cock.

“What are you doing right now, Kokichi?”

“I’m putting a finger inside.” He inserted one of his fingers inside you.

“No, what are you really doing?” You bit your lip.

“I’m… I’m jerking off.”

Satisfied with his answer, you crossed a leg over his to settle on his lap with your back against his chest. Spreading your legs wider, you allowed him a better view of your wet pussy. Mechamaru’s digits slid inside as Kokichi moved his hand along the length of his cock.

Mechamaru’s other hand went to cup your breast over your shirt, making a moan escape your lips.

His fingers were reaching deeper than your own fingers ever could. The digits moved in a scissoring motion and curled against your gummy walls, pressing against the spot that made your vision blurry.

“Kokichi,” gasping, you squirmed on his lap, your back arched when his thumb grazed over your clit. “I wanna kiss you so bad.”

Kokichi’s hand tightened around the tip of his cock, he pulled the sensitive skin down to expose the pink tip and massaged it using his thumb. When his hand started moving along his cock again, the device helping him talk through Mechamaru picked up the clicking sound rather than the medical fluid splashing.

You moaned at the realization of what you were hearing.

The feeling of the metallic firm fingers stroking your clit made your hips buck against his hand. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, panting, you pressed your thighs together.

Mechamaru’s hand on your chest moved down on your thigh to hold you in place as his fingers inside your pussy started to vibrate. The sudden pleasure made you scream but the loud music concealed it.

Kokichi couldn’t breathe normally, his pulse had gone haywire as his hand was moving hastily around his cock while Mechamaru’s digits were messing you up.

“S-s-s-stop!” Your voice broke into a moan.

“Do you really want me to stop?” He barely managed to ask, his hand wouldn’t stop.

You shook your head rapidly, biting your lip.

Your walls clenched around the digits, sucking them in deeper. Kokichi’s own hand was moving faster than his heartbeat. His tongue lolled out of his mouth and his shoulders tensed.

He was close.

From the way you were shaking, he could say the same thing for you.

So, when Mechamaru pushed his digits further inside, the vibration got stronger and stronger until your legs shook. The pleasure that was building in your gut suddenly got released, shaking you to your core.

Kokichi followed suit, his cock spurted thick clumps of cum and they landed on his stomach, his bandages absorbed his seed.

By the time he caught his breath, he realized you were still on his lap.

Mechamaru had gone limp as he had gotten distracted because of his orgasm. He revived the cursed doll while you were trying to fix your dress.

You wanted to say something but you couldn’t find something to say.

To your rescue, the music stopped.

The tablet had the same notification from before. Informing you that the second hour had ended and if you wanted to rent the room for one more hour.

Kokichi leaned forward and pressed on the tablet to end the session.

“We’re leaving already?” you pouted your lips.

“You said you wanted to meet me.”

Kokichi watched as the brightest smile he had ever seen formed on your face.

After he paid the tab the two of you exited the building as he held you up with one hand because your legs weren’t functioning properly.

“The employee behind the register noticed your wobbly legs,” Kokichi said.

“You think so?” you whispered, cheeks and ears colored in bright red.

“He was looking, so, yes.”

“You kinda went overboard by using Megaman’s vibrator hands.” Your giggle filled his ears and he smiled to himself.

“It’s Mechamaru.”

#this was gonna be a dark one but my friend told me to rewrite it lmao #anywayyyy kokichi supremacy #mechamaru x reader #kokichi muta x reader

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fictionalabyss · 3 years

Text

Mated : You were dead.

Pairings : Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader, Alpha!Sam x Omega!Reader (mentioned), Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader x Alpha!Sam

Word count : 2,834

Written for : @spnabobingo

Square : Multiple Alpha claims

Warning : Angst ahead! a/b/o dynamics, character death talked about, depression, sickness mentioned, guilt, pissed Dean, defensive Sam, brothers be brothers.

Masterlist • Patreon • Ko-fi.

The final part of Mated.

SPN A/B/O Bingo Round 5 Masterlist.

The knock on your door had been unexpected, but not as unexpected as what you found waiting on the other side.

Sam. You hadn't seen him in months, but while him being there surprised you, it wasn't what made you step back in shock. It was the man standing a half step closer than he was. The man smiling at you with so much love and adoration. "Hey, baby."

"Dean?" You wanted to run. Run towards him, run away. He couldn't be real, he couldn't be here he was DEAD. He was dead, for months. This had to be a trick, a monster, or… you looked to Sam who just gave you a nod and tilted his head to his brother. His way of assuring you it was Dean.

As soon as his arms opened to you, you ran to them, throwing yourself at him and he chuckled as he caught you. You latched on, holding him tight, terrified if you let go he'd vanish, and you cried against him. The feel of him against you again, the way your body reacted to him, you thought it was lost to you forever. "It's okay, baby. I'm home. I'm not going anywhere ever again. I’m home.” As you cried against him, Dean ducked his face into you, his nose brushing across the mark he’d left on your skin long ago, and he breathed in deep.

The action had your eyes opening and from over his shoulder seeing Sam, who stood quiet and patiently behind him. Sam’s eyes met yours, but whatever he was feeling, he kept it hidden away. You let your eyes fall shut again and tucked your nose into Dean before bringing your feet back to the ground and removing yourself from his grasp.

“You smell a little different. I wasn’t gone that long, was I?” he teased as he started past you and into the house. You swallowed. “What?”

“You were dead.” you whispered, closing the door after Sam headed in and towards the kitchen.

“Yeah I know.” Dean watched you for a minute as you heard cupboards open then close. “Wait… You meet someone else?”

“You were dead.” tears filled your eyes all over again, and you saw how his jaw ticked.

“I came back.” he snapped. “I came back to you!” he pointed at you as he stepped closer. “Who is he?” he growled. “Another fuckin’ Alpha?”

You were biting your bottom lip and looking down. He yanked at the collar of your shirt, giving him a good look at his mark still intact, and that made him furrow his brow until he saw how you tried to hide the other side of your neck from him. He wasn’t harsh, just.. forceful as he exposed the other side and took in another mark.

“You were dead.” you cried, afraid to look up at him.

“Barely in the grave by the looks of the claim.” he snapped, moving away from you with a look of disgust. “Who the fuck is he? I don’t fucking smell another alpha here. Just me and-” He stopped when he noticed you were looking past him. Dean turned and saw Sam at the end of the hall, glass of amber liquid in his hand as he watched the two of you. “You?” Dean snarled.

“Dean-” Sam started, putting his hands up, but Dean was quick to rush forward, grabbing his brother’s collar and slamming his back to the wall. The glass fell from his hand, spilling whiskey across the runner as the glass rolled to a stop about a foot from where it dropped.

“You fucking claimed her!?”

You rushed forward, trying to pull him off his brother. “Dean, stop!”

“What’d you do, Sammy? Tell her I was dead and take her in the next breath?” Sam didn’t answer, just looked at his brother with an equally hard look.

“Dean stop!” When pulling at him didn’t help, you tried to work your way between them, tried to push him off. Your heart was being pulled apart, wanting to protect Sam, but also Dean. You needed him to stop, needed him to understand. “It’s not his fault, Dean! Please!”

His hard glare was now on you as you stood between them, a few inches of space between you and either brother, but you stood your ground despite the look he gave you. “So, what? You went to him?”

“It’s not-”

Dean cut you off with a scoff. “Of course you did. You always wanted him.” he gestured to Sam, a cutting glare sent his way with the motion of his hand. “What the fuck was I? Just a bed warmer until-”

“You were dead!” you shoved at his chest. “You were fucking dead! You were all I had and you were dead!”

“Clearly not all you had. You had Sam.” he spat, and you flinched.

“No, I didn’t. Sam left. He told me you died, didn’t tell me where or how or- and then he fucking left. You were dead, Dean. I didn’t have a service or grave where I could go, I didn’t have a body to cry over I just.. I was alone. I-”

“She was dying.” Sam piped up from behind you when it was obvious that you couldn’t talk through the tears anymore. “I got a message one day, she’s crying. Only reason I came was because she said-”

“Funkytown.” you whispered. “You told me if anything happened, if anything went wrong, call Sam and say Funkytown. I did..” you shoulders were shaking with how hard you cried. “I did. I did what you told me to do.”

“What the fuck do you mean she was dying?” Dean demanded

“When I got here, you could smell it. Whole fucking house reeked of it.” When Sam put a comforting hand on your shoulder, Dean's lip curled up with a low growl, but Sam’s hand didn’t move. “I got her cleaned up, got her in a clean bed, called in a doctor.” Dean looked down at you, but you were looking down as you cried. “He said she had 48 hours at best.”

“For what? What was wrong?”

“To find a mate.” you whispered. “Heat was so bad. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t get out of bed, hadn’t eaten for days..”

“So you make her fucking eat. You take care of her.”

“I did.” Sam pointed out, fingers going from your shoulder to trace over the claiming mark he’d left on you. “Doctor said she needed a mate for her best chance of survival. So I gave her one.”

“I’m sorry.” you cried. “I’m sorry I wasn't strong enough.”

“Then why the fuck were you with some other bitch in a motel room?” Dean's tone was hard and threatening. “You have a mate at home, my fucking mate at home, and you go off to fuck someone else?”

“Because I’m not you.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“She didn’t fucking want me, Dean! She begged me to let her die, then she begged me to save her. And afterwards? She cried. She turned away from me and she fucking cried and I could see the guilt eating at her because I’m not you. So as soon as I knew she was well enough, I left. Why the fuck would I stay?”

Deans hand shot over your shoulder grabbing at Sam’s collar again and slamming his back against the wall once more, sandwiching you tighter between them. “Because you fucking claimed her!” Dean screamed at him. “You’re her alpha you piece of shit! You stay and take care of her!”

“Dean-” you tried to push him back, but you couldn’t, you weren’t strong enough.

“I told you! I told you to fucking take care of her and you left her! Twice! What the fuck, Sam!”

“Stop! Please!”

“You don’t fucking deserve her.” Dean spat. “You never did. You treated her like shit in college, you treated her like shit when you found out I knew her, and you treated her like shit after I died. I thought you had grown up, I thought I could fucking trust you. I thought she meant something to you.”

“She does! Do you think I’d fucking claim her if she didn’t!?” Sam snapped back, getting in Deans face just as much as his brother was getting in his. “I love her!” Your head snapped to look up at him over your shoulder in surprise. “Dying or not, Dean, if she didn’t fucking mean something to me I wouldn’t have done it.”

“Then why’d you go?” you whispered. “Why’d I wake up to you gone?”

“Like I said, I’m not Dean.” He pushed Dean away from him before slipping out from behind you and walking out.

You stood there, stunned and unsure what to do. A part of you wanted to run to Sam, hold him, soothe him, tell him it would be okay. But the other part? The other part had Dean back. It wanted to be in his arms and to never let him go again. “I don’t.. I don’t know what to do..” Dean was running a hand through his hair, teeth biting into his bottom lip with anger as he paced in the hall.

“Go to your mate.” Dean answered, not bothering to look over at you.

“Which one?” That made him turn. “The one I couldn’t live without, that I finally have back? Or the one who refused to let me die? Who do I comfort, Dean? Who do I hold and promise that everything will be okay? Because right now, my heart is being ripped in two and it hurts so fucking bad.”

Dean just shook his head, a slight roll to his eyes as he turned away. He needed to get his thoughts together, he needed to to process what the fuck was happening. He’d been so happy to come back home to you, and now he felt like he didn’t have that home anymore. Like Sam had snatched it out from under him.

“Maybe he should have just let me die.” Dean spun around, eyes wide. “If I was dead, I wouldn’t have disappointed you and you wouldn’t be fighting with your brother.” You turned and quietly walked away, Dean watching you go.

Dean stared at the space long after you were gone, and then he looked over to the front door Sam and stormed out of, then down to the glass still laying on it’s side on the carpet. As pissed as he was, as much as he wanted to tear his brother apart for touching his mate, Dean only had two important people left in his life. He had to somehow live with what had been done.

With a sigh, Dean started for the door first and was surprised to see Sam just sitting on the curb outside. “Here to punch my teeth in? Cuz I won’t let you do it easy, Dean.”

“No.” Dean answered, dropping to sit next to his brother. “Here to thank you.”

“For what?”

“For not letting her die.” Dean’s head fell forward and he looked down at the ground. His hands were clasped, forearms on his knees and he shifted his hands a few times before he spoke again. “I’m pissed, Sam. I’m pissed you claimed her, she was mine. But I can’t be mad at you for saving her. There was no other way?” he looked to Sam who shook his head.

“No. I wasn’t even sure that would work. But I had to try.”

Dean nodded and looked down again. “What do we do here, Sammy?”

“She wants you.” Sam licked his lips and looked out across the street. “So it goes back to the way it was.”

“Can it, though? She’s your omega, Sam. I wanted to rip your throat out for touching her. You telling me you won’t feel the same?”

“Don’t have much of a choice, do I?” Sam looked to his brother again, the two of them watching each other for a minute.

“There’s a choice.”

“She doesn’t want me, Dean.”

“She does.” Dean nodded, looking away from his brother, part of him hated that he was about to admit this. It could be the end for him. “She wanted to chase after you, comfort you and tell you everything would be okay.”

“But she didn’t.”

“Because she doesn’t want to hurt me. She’s being pulled two ways, Sammy. I hate that it’s hurting her, I hate that I’m hurting her.” Dean was quiet for a moment. “She-” Sam watched him, waiting. Dean licked his lips, tilted his head and sighed. “She said maybe you shouldn’t have saved her.”

“What?”

“That if she was dead we wouldn’t be fighting.”

“We’re brothers. Brothers fight.”

“Mhm.” Dean nodded. “She thinks she disappointed me.”

“I told you the guilt was eating at her.” Sam mumbled. “I couldn’t stand seeing that look in her eyes.”

“So what do we do, Sammy? Me and you, I mean. Can we get past this?”

“I don’t know, Dean. Can we?”

There was a knock on your door, but you didn’t say anything. You sat on the floor, back against your bed, knees tucked into your chest as you cried. The door gently opened, and soon someone was walking in. “I’m sorry.” You knew who it was before he even sat on the floor in front of you. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Dean reached out and pulled you against this chest. “It’s going to be okay.” he soothed.

“How can it? You’re brothers, and I-”

“You lived.” he cut you off, a hand rubbing up and down your back. “You did what it took to live. I’m not mad at you.”

“You’re disappointed. I wasn’t strong enough.”

“I’m not. I promise, I’m not. I’m sorry, okay.” he pulled back just enough to get you to look up at him. “I’m sorry, too. I reacted badly, it was just a lot to take in. I was so fucking happy to be getting back home to you.” he smiled softly at you. “You were right, I was dead. I shouldn’t have held that against you. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t know what to do.” a fresh round of tears stung at your eyes, and when one fell, Dean wiped it away with his thumb.

“We’ll figure it out.” Dean promised.

“The three of us.” You turned your head to look to the door and found Sam standing and leaning on the frame. “And you’re right. I do kind of want to rip your throat out for touching her. But just a little.” he teased with a smile.

“I don’t.. I don’t understand.” you looked to Dean again.

“I’m not letting you go.” Dean promised. “You’re my mate and I’m never letting you go. But you’re his, too. We’ll figure out a way to make it work.”

You looked back to Sam who gave you a shrug. “It’ll take some time to figure out, but.. It’s not impossible. You aren’t the first Omega to have multiple claims.”

“We had a little chat before I came up.” Dean leaned his forehead against your temple and breathed you in. “I missed you.” he whispered out with his breath. “If I need to accept Sam to keep you, I’ll do it. I’d do anything.”

You nodded with a soft smile before addressing Sam again. “What about the girl you were with?” you asked, hoping he didn’t hear the bite in the words. The truth was, even with him having abandoned you more than once, the mere idea of him with another woman made you want to rip someone apart, he was your mate, your alpha.

“No one important.” Sam brushed it off. “I’ll let her down easy.”

Something in you told you there was more to it, much more to it, but Sam wasn’t saying anything else. “What do we do now, then?”

“How about dinner? I’m fucking starving.” Dean chuckled. “Then,” he whispered into your ear, “I’m going to eat you.”

Sam growled at that, and Dean’s eyes shot to his brother, both of them glaring daggers at each other. “Guys, come on.” you groaned, pulling yourself from Dean’s lap and standing. Dean was quick to follow, putting you once again stuck between the brothers and their anger. “How about Dean gets me while I get Sam. Then we switch.”

“Deal.” Sam answered, eyes still watching his brother, waiting for his answer.

“Only if I get two rounds.”

“Dean!” You shot him a look of disbelief. You were trying to keep them from killing each other and he seemed to be going out of his way to provoke Sam.

“What!? I was dead! Don’t I deserve a little extra love?” he pouted. And at that exact moment, you discovered where Sam had learned that puppy dog look he always used to get his way back in college. You rolled your eyes and his pout turned into a shit eating grin.

*If you like this, please consider supporting my work*

Tagging : Mated - @vicmc624

Dean - @akshi8278 @adoptdontshoppets @evyiione @karikatz12481 @idksupernatural @deandreamernp

Sam - @evyiione @hoboal87

SPN - @sandlee44 @just-another-busy-fangirl @mrswhozeewhatsis @deanandsamsbitch @deans-baby-momma @thebescht @67-chevy-baby @supraveng @musiclovinchic93 @holyfuckloueh @ksgeekgirl @hobby27 @maddiepants @roxyspearing @onethirstyunicorn @fandom-princess-forevermore @kalesrebellion @deanwanddamons @thoughts-and-funnies

All tags - @sorenmarie87 @artemisthebadger @winchesterprincessbride @iflostreturntosteverogers @akfonkin @rebelminxy @foxyjwls007 @onethirstyunicorn @shaelyn102 @supernaturalenchanted @kazkingdom @babypink224221 @emoryhemsworth @ilovefanfic86 @pie-with-hunters @anaelsbrunette @lazinessisalliknow @feelmyroarrrr @letsdisneythings @cdwmtjb8 @notyourtypicalrose @xostephanie @ilovedeanspie @defenderrosetyler @amandamdiehl

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britishassistant · 3 years

Note

The multiple Yuus' suffering won't end yet.

I feel like Villain! Yuu and Villainous Paranoiac! Yuu are similar personality-wise but do you mind switching them too?

I can imagine them sleeping with one eye open in their new world, cuz they don't trust anyone.

Thank you for the ask, dear anon!

You cover your nose and mouth to muffle your breathing as best you can.

Costumed adults run past your hiding place, crouched behind a series of pipes. They’re boiling hot, feeling like they could burn through your thin pajama sleeves even though you’re trying to keep your distance from them while staying concealed.

“Princess? Oh, little Princess? Come out, come out, wherever you are~” The voice of the older woman who tried to kill you when you woke up croons. You can see her shadow on the wall next to you.

Your lip curls involuntarily at the nickname, and you hunch down further into yourself.

“Are you sure we wanna do this?” The other man asks. “If the Night Raven finds out about this...”

“He won’t.” The woman snaps. “Not if we do this properly. That pampered little brat needs to die. If it’s another one of those annoying alternate versions, killing this one means there’ll be no way for our version to switch back here. If it’s a de-aged version, then even better. Either way, we’ll finally be free of that weak, pathetic pushover of an employer. Now go check over there!”

“R-right!”

You watch as their shadows move across the wall, until they vanish as their owners exit through the doors on the other side of the room.

You bite the skin on the side of your thumb. You thought this place was where that...reporter version of you came from, and that you were in the lair of one of the seven supervillains you met before, but everything you’ve seen and heard so far runs counter to that hypothesis. None of them were using the whole clockwork and steam motif that this place is decorated with, and the way those...minions? were talking, it sounds like a version of you is the one running this place.

And not very well, judging by the employee dissatisfaction.

You want to just curl up and stay hidden behind these pipes forever, but the longer you stay here, the more likely it is you’ll be cornered with no chance to run. Plus the heat’s making your head spin, and you know with your luck you’ll end up burning yourself. Better to get out now while the getting’s good.

You slip out, and go through the door that the two minions came from, peeking around to make sure the coast is clear before darting for the next bit of cover. You wish not for the first time you had shoes to muffle the sound of your bare feet against the rough floor.

You need to find an exit, get out of here as fast as you can. But if you can’t find a way to distract the minions, how long will it be until they just follow you to wherever you try to take sanctuary, just like the Scarabia students did back over winter break?

You’re in an even worse spot that you were then. At least then, you had Grim with you.

Here? You’re all alone. Defenseless.

Your right ankle twinges again, making you stumble and clip a bunch of nearby boxes. You frantically need to spread your arms to catch the boxes so the crash of them falling over doesn’t alert any of the security.

And injured. Can’t forget your overblot injuries.

You’re already panting after running for only a few minutes, your lungs burning in your chest. Nurse Kamac told you you’d find physical exertion much harder now, but it’s one thing to hear it and another thing entirely to feel how much effort it takes to do things you used to be able to do with ease, how much your body protests against the one advantage you used to have, how much more useless you are now.

You slump at a corner, sweat beading on your brow. Your vision is swimming, and your knees feel unsteady under you.

Something liquid and hot is sliding down your collarbone. You think your throat is bleeding again.

“Kreek?”

You yelp, tripping over your own feet at the sound, hitting the ground with a hard thud. You whip your head around to find the source of the noise.

There is a huge crow perched on a pipe above you.

It’s massive. Are birds allowed to get that big?

It tilts its head at you, before taking off from its perch and fluttering down to land next to you, hopping a few steps closer.

“H-hey, nice birdie...” You rasp. Then, recalling something the minions said earlier, you venture, “...Are you the Night Raven?”

There’s a moment of silence.

Then the crow erupts into a raucous, croaking squawks that sound suspiciously like laughter.

You purse your lips, running a hand through your sweaty bangs. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. It’s not like I’ve been sent to a whole other world again or anything, and whoever this ‘Night Raven’ is seems to be the only thing between me and those guys who think killing me will ensure some supervillain also ends up dead. Because of course they do, that’s just how my life is, it’s not like I don’t already know my birth was enough of a mistake. Ugh.”

You drop you head onto your knees and squeeze your eyes shut tight. You’re tired. You’re sore.

You just wanna wake up back in your bed at Ramshackle with Grim cuddled up next to you, muttering about tuna, and have all of this be some horrible nightmare.

You flail at the feeling of a series of sharp pinches on your good shoulder and a heavy, warm weight unbalancing you. “Hey, what the—!”

The crow croaks at you from its new perch on your shoulder, looking both mildly annoyed and unphased by your floundering. You jerk as it’s wickedly sharp beak darts forward and—!

Closes around a section of your mussed up bangs?

The bird pulls your hair back into place as best it can, tugging hard on your scalp as it repeats the process until it’s satisfied you’ve been groomed enough.

It is one of the weirdest experiences you’ve ever undergone. And you’ve played in a Heartslaybul crocket match.

The crow pushes off your shoulder, smacking you in the face with one of it’s wings in the process. It lands on another set of pipes some distance away and turns back to look at you. It caws in a distinctly impatient tone when you don’t immediately follow it.

You weigh your options. On the one hand, it could be leading you into a trap, and you’ll end up dead, though that doesn’t explain why it would try to groom you. You also don’t know your way around this place, and ignoring the bird could lead to it making even more noise as it attempts to get your attention again, which would alert your pursuers and get you killed even faster.

“So I’m following birds now. It’s official. I’ve finally lost it.” You mutter to yourself, pushing yourself shakily to your feet, and counting yourself lucky your vision only goes fuzzy once when you’re upright.

The crow guides you through the...lair is the only word suitable for it. It has a knack for landing on areas that will allow you to take some cover should some of the minions looking for you pass by, hissing whenever it wants you to stay put, and giving that same impatient caw once it’s time to move on again.

It’d be nice if that system could be foolproof.

Unfortunately, as you’re running past a doorway that you thought was clear, you hear a cry of, “HERE! THEY'RE HERE!! THE IMPOSTER IS OVER HERE!!”

You curse, and make yourself run faster, trying to ignore how it pulls the ridged scars along your left thigh and hip and your sudden shortness of breath. You can’t afford to acknowledge that right now, especially when you yelp as actual gunfire erupts behind you and real, genuine bullets whiz past your head to embed themselves in the stacked boxes near you.

The crow has the same idea, taking off to fly just ahead of you, soaring into the faces of any minions who try to cut off the path it’s leading you down with sharp talons and beak at the ready.

You follow it to a huge room, slamming the large double doors shut behind you.

You shove back against them as the doors jump when your pursuers collide with it. Your breath is coming in harsh pants as you fumble with the bolt and padlock, barely clicking it shut before the entrance is forced open.

You stumble away, blindly colliding with a desk and hitting the floor as you desperately and feebly try to suck in air that your lungs can’t seem to inhale, your breaths getting shallower and and more panicked as your vision fuzzes out again. You can’t breathe, you can’t breathe, you can’t breathe, you can’t breathe, you can’t breathe, you can’t breathe, you can’t breathe, you can’t breathe, you can’t breathe—

A loud cry erupts above you, and you faintly see dark shapes descend down on you, feeling dozens of sharp pinches on your upper body, the force of what feels like dozens of dozens of wings dragging your upper body up and back until you’re leaning upright against something and there’s a monumental. warm, fluffy weight against your chest, alternating between getting heavier and lighter, forcing it to expand and contract in intervals of four seconds under it.

It takes a while, but eventually, your hyperventilating finally, finally stops, as you carefully and slowly suck in grateful lungfuls of oxygen and your eyesight gradually returns.

Then you have to blink hard.

You are covered in what you think Epel would describe as a metric fuckton of birds.

They’re all staring at you, some of them picking at your pajamas, others making a caw-like noise that can only be best described as a worried peep.

You lift a hesitant hand to try and maybe shoo some of them off, only for your heart to melt as one of them honest-to-Seven nudges into your palm, like it wants you to pet it or something.

You wonder if the supervillain version of you trained them to do this. If so, at least they did one thing right, because Great Seven this is adorable.

The monsterous crow who led you here lands next to you, squawking and flapping its wings indignantly. The black birds gradually hop off you at this display, much to your subtle disappointment.

“Alright, alright, I’m up.” You grumble, shakily pulling yourself to your feet. “Now what Crow?”

The leader of the birds lands on top of the desk you hit earlier, tapping on some sheets of paper with its beak. You pull them towards you, trying to puzzle out what you’re seeing. It looks like some kind of...schematic? For a water-powered machine that seems to be the power source of a death ray or something. What’s most interesting though is the part of the plans with a section labelled ‘self destruct’ near the top of the construction.

“Okay, so this going boom would make for a good distraction so I could escape.” You chew at your nail. “But now I’ve got to find where it is so I can do that...”

The crow pecks at your other hand. When you pull it away, it shoots you an unimpressed glare and turns around.

You lift your head and follow where it’s looking.

There, along the back wall of this huge room, sits an absolute behemoth of metal and glass surrounded by scaffolding, a huge clear water tank like the one in the plans already filled to the brim and gurgling with movement.

Oh.

You purse your lips at the Crow, which is still shooting you an unimpressed glare. “In my defense, I was kind of having too much trouble trying to keep those guys out, and then breathing to really notice...that.”

It laughs at you again.

There’s a percussive boom from the doors, all the birds taking off and circling with warning squawks.

You push off of the desk as you dash towards the machine, trying to ignore how you want to flinch as several more booms follow the first one. You grab the scaffolding and frantically pull yourself up, trying to climb as fast as you can. If you can just reach the top before they break through—!

There’s an ear-splitting explosion as the doors fly open.

“THERE! THERE THEY ARE!! STOP THEM!!”

You shriek as the gunfire starts again, the need to climb, to get away warring with the instinct to try curling up as small as you can so you’re less of a target.

Your footing slips when you jump to grab the last ledge, leaving you to desperately grab onto the scaffolding with your bad arm. You whimper at how the rounded scars on your shoulder scream in protest at taking almost all your weight, the blackened bite mark on your elbow throbbing with pain like a second heartbeat.

You feel a flare of agony in your right thigh that makes you almost lose your grip. You whine through your teeth as you grab onto the metal and heave yourself up and over, rolling away from the ledge and curling up so your attackers can’t hit you.

“Cease fire! Cease fire you idiots! You’ll break the tank!!”

It takes you a second to realize that you’re curled around the circular podium where the schematics said the self-destruct button was mounted.

“Come down, Princess!” The older woman’s voice floats up to you. “You don’t know what you’re doing up there, do you? There’s nowhere left for you to run. Just be a good little nepotist and come face your fate with some dignity. I swear to you it’ll be quick.”

You grit your teeth as you haul yourself up. “Fat chance.”

You can see her at the head of the pack now, scoffing as her face twists with hate. “Typical. Bloody typical isn’t it? Even the other version of you was an ungrateful little shit, but at least it knew when to keep its head down and listen to its betters. It’s galling to be demoted to working under an imposter, a fake human like that thing!! Spending all its time with birds and playing around with those stupid civilians, hah! You’re no better than an animal! Just a dumb little pet that the Night Raven thought would be funny to give a title and call his ‘heir’!! A disgrace to the pursuit of villainy and evil!!”

“Are you sure about that?”

You take far too much delight in the way she pales as she sees your hand hovering over the self-destruct button.

“H-hold on princess,” She babbles, reaching a futile hand up. “W-we can talk about this, just don’t—”

“Shut. Up.” You growl. “If you wanted a heroic little fairytale princess to terrorize, you picked the worst person you could.”

“‘Cause me? I’m the damn wicked witch.”

You slam you fist down on the button.

There’s a wailing of alarms as the structure below you shakes. Tons upon tons of water bursts out of the machine.

The woman can’t even scream as the flood swallows her.

The crows caw wildly above your head, and you tear your eyes away to see the largest one leading the flock in flapping around a ladder leading to a hatch in the roof. You stagger over to it, your hands almost slipping off the metal rungs several times.

You push hard on the metal hatch and breath in the cold, dry air of the outside, the rough stony roof feeling like it’s cutting into your feet. You can still hear the alarms blaring as you close the hatch again after the last of the birds have flown out.

You’re tired. So tired. Your eyesight is going blurry again and the right leg of your pajamas feels uncomfortably wet, giving off little pulses of agony that has you whimpering.

“Hey, Crow?” Your voice sounds very far away. ��I think I’mma pass out now.”

The world tilts sideways before everything goes black.

#ask #twisted wonderland #twst #villainous paranoiac yuu #harrassed villain yuu au #supervillain au #the supervisor #twisted wonderland yuu #twst yuu #a.k.a #yuu has a the worst time #the worst #diavolo the crow #villainous paranoiac yuu would make a much better villain than their counterpart #meanwhile the supervillain version straightens from where they’re failing to terroize high schoolers #why do I feel like something of mine just got destroyed again

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johnnycranes · 3 years

Text

“I need you to pretend we’re dating”

Micah x F!Reader

But it’s the 1800s so “we’re together” instead of dating i guess lmao. This was supposed to be a short fic, how in the world it reached over 2k words idk.

Anyway I’ve missed writing for Micah so here’s my attempt at a comeback. Prompt masterlist here.

Rating: T with just a splash of M but nothing too crazy.

Micah x F!Reader

Karen finally convinced Arthur to let you and her go back to Valentine after what happened the last time the blonde woman visited.

‘Course, this time Karen decided to bring Sean along. The Irishman just happened to be free when Arthur said he’d be too busy himself, taking care of something for Dutch.

So here you were, in the Valentine saloon with the two lovebirds. You knew you should’ve stayed at camp and shared stories with Tilly and Mary-Beth but noooo, Miss Jones just had to bribe you with a free drink and a “I heard a real interestin’ lead the last time we was here!”

Karen and Sean were off by the piano, singin some tune while you were trying to scout any leads from the drunks by the bar.

You were about to ask the bartender for another drink when one of the locals, breath reeking of alcohol, placed an arm around you.

"Well hellooooo there, beautiful. I ain't seen you 'round here before." he said, his words slurred and voice a little too loud from where he was.

You smiled politely as you could back at him, tried to put distance between you two, but his arm felt like lead on your shoulders. "Just passin' through, mister. Here with a few friends." you pointed towards Karen and Sean, who, unfortunately, weren't looking at anyone but themselves.

And apparently the man with you picked up on it as well.

He chuckled. "Awww, there there, sweetheart. Seems your friends ain't leavin anytime soon. Why don't I keep ya company instead, hmm?"

As much as you wanted to slap the man or kick him where it hurts the most, Dutch specifically requested that there be no more rowdy bar fights after all the trouble the gang caused in town already.

Smile unwavering, you tried to look around for anything or anyone to help you get rid of the local.

So when you heard the saloon doors swing open and saw Mr. Micah Bell III himself enter, you prayed he was sober and in a good enough mood to help you out. You were always one of the friendlier people towards him in camp, so hopefully that little friendship meant something.

"Oh, there he is!" You yelled, looking at Micah. This distracted the local enough so he could loosen his hold on you and you slipped out, making your way to the blonde cowboy.

He looked surprised to see you, even more so when you put your arms around him, leaning your head near his.

You felt him tense up and had a feeling he was going to push you away so you knew you had to say something quickly. "I'll wash your clothes and sew 'em for a week if you please just pretend we're together. Feller by the bar's tryna do more than just buy me a drink." you said by his ear.

You could sense he was processing what you just told him. But suddenly his arms were around you and he pushed you away just enough to place a kiss on your cheek.

You look up at him, even more shocked when you see the unmistakable smug grin on his face.

"I was only gone a few minutes, darlin'. Didn't think you'd miss me that much." he said in a surprisingly sweet voice that didn't sound at all like the tough gunslinger you knew him to be. He placed his arm around you and started walking up to the bar.

Not missing a beat and thankful that he seemed to be ok with playing along, you wrapped one arm around his waist and placed a hand on his chest. "You know me, just can't get enough of ya."

You both stopped by bar, Micah tipping his hat to the bartender and signalling for two more bottles.

Unfortunately, the man who was harassing you hadn't left. "She with you, mister?" he asked rather blatantly, turning towards Micah.

The blonde tightened his grip on you. "That is correct. Ain't I just the luckiest feller?" he actually tapped your nose with a finger. Seems Hosea has some competition in acting.

And you couldn't help but blush when his voice became just a bit huskier at the end there. The poor local didn’t seem to be giving up though.

“Really now? ‘Cuz the little lady told me she came with just those two.” he said, pointing to Sean and Karen who were giggling about something or other.

Man, they really did have eyes for only each other, especially when they were both drunk.

Micah let go of you and you were quick to shove down the disappointment you felt, no longer in his arms. He was surprisingly warm.

Micah stood in front of you, blocking you from the drunk local.

“Not that it ain’t any of your business, feller, but I passed by the gun store, left my woman with our two friends over there.” He glanced back at you. “Startin’ to think that was a bad idea.”

You smiled sheepishly, knowing Micah meant to tell you that it was your fault for not thinking about how drinking with Karen and Sean was going to be anything but good.

“I’m sorry, love.” You said, and you swore you saw Micah’s cheeks turn red from calling him love. “I leave ‘em for 5 seconds and suddenly they think they’re the only people in the world or somethin’.”

Micah laughed and you felt heat pool in your stomach from the sound. “Quite all right. I know you can handle yourself.”

The local scoffed. “Actually mister, who knows what woulda happened to the girl if I hadn’t shown up.” the man said rather smugly.

“She woulda finished her damn drink in peace, that’s what.” Micah growled.

And it really did seem like the feller had a death wish because the next thing she knew, he was leaning towards Micah, glaring at him. “We was just about to have a lovely evening if you hadn’t shown up.”

Micah barked out a laugh, obviously not intimidated by the other guy’s rather poor show of masculinity. “That’s real funny, friend. Cuz I reckon that’s my line, not yours.”

“Listen yo-”

Before the man could finish talking, you heard Karen Jones squeal, saw Sean Macguire break a bottle on top of some poor feller’s head, and then the whole saloon was in an uproar.

Micah took the opportunity to punch the drunk man square in the jaw. It was no secret he wasn’t the toughest fighter among Dutch’s boys, but his ‘opponent’ was drunk enough that he went down without much of a fight, knocked out from all the alcohol.

Micah took a swig of his whiskey, placed a few coins on the bar, then grabbed your hand, guiding you around the chaos until you finally got out of the saloon.

“Well, that ain’t what I had in mind when I got to town, but that was fun.” he laughed, adjusting his hat.

You couldn’t help but laugh with him. “Trust me, weren’t what I expected either.”

You looked down and saw you were still holding hands. You hesitantly let go, remembering how all this craziness started.

“Thanks, Mr. Bell. I was tryna avoid another bar fight but it seemed Sean had other plans.”

He smirked. “Well I can’t blame the boy. He only wanted to help his woman. ‘Case ya forgot, I did the exact same thing.”

You grinned, not sure if your cheeks were warm from the alcohol or from his charming words.

Probably both.

“Yes, and as promised, you’ll get clean and sewn clothes for a week, no more waiting for Ms. Grimshaw gives it to one of us girls.”

Micah chuckled lowly, moving closer to you and you forgot how intimidating he could be. “As lovely as that sounds, miss, I actually had another... reward in mind.”

He leaned towards you and you could feel his breath touch your skin. You unconsciously licked your lips. “And what is it?” you asked, surprised at how small your voice sounded.

He grinned. “Oh, somethin’ we’ll both enjoy, I assure you.”

You felt his fingers gently tilt your chin up and you didn’t stop him. You closed your eyes and thought you felt the prickle of his moustache on your face-

Before two familiar laughs and the saloon doors swinging open hit your ears. You jumped back and saw Micah do just about the same, only much more subtle, slowly backing away from you and adjusting his hat.

Sean and Karen all but stumbled out of the bar, the Irishman still holding a bottle in his hand as he kept an arm around his woman.

“Micah you bastard, what the hell you doin’ here then?” Sean said, his accent thicker now that he was drunk.

Micah scoffed. “Savin’ Miss (Y/N) here, I reckon.” he said, tilting his head towards you. “Now I ain’t no stranger to a bit of fun at the saloon either but what do you suppose Dutch’ll think if anythin’ happened to these fine ladies?”

Sean laughed, almost falling over if Karen hadn’t steadied him. “Since when did you care about anyone other than yourself?”

Micah stomped towards the younger man. “Easy there, cowpoke. Don’t think I wo-”

You stepped in front of Micah, placing your hands on his chest. He looked down at you. “It’s fine, Micah. The idiot’s drunk.”

“Hey!” Karen yelled. “He ain’t an idiot.”

Sean leaned his head on her. “Aww Miss Jones you do-”

“He’s my idiot.” She finished. “Now, I don’t fancy headin’ back to camp just yet. Stole enough money from one of the fellers in the saloon to afford a bath and a decent room at the hotel.” Karen faced you. “You gonna be okay gettin’ back yourself? Or I do have some leftover for another room if ya want.”

Sean took one last swig before dropping the bottle on the ground. “Hey, I ain’t drunk enough that I can’t bring Miss (Y/N) back to camp meself.”

“You Irish fool, the room’s fer us!” she yelled.

Sean blinked before going “Oooohhh” and you laughed when you heard Micah mutter “They’re both morons.”

You smiled at the other woman. “I’ll be fine. Mr. Bell can bring me back.” you looked at the blonde man and saw him shrug. Karen however wasn’t convinced, as she glared at Micah.

“Don’t you try anythin’ now or I’m tellin’ Arthur and kickin' your ass myself.” she said.

Micah waved his hands mockingly. “Oh I’m shakin, Miss Jones.” he brought them back down. “We’ll be fine. Now you two get the hell outta here before Mr. Macguire pukes all over the damn ground.”

Karen told you to take care before guiding a giggling Sean towards the hotel.

Once they were inside the building, Micah faced you. “The hell were ya thinkin? Hanging around those two drunk idiots?”

You shrugged. “Hey I was bored, ok? And Karen offered free drinks.”

Micah huffed.

Part of you was buzzing to continue what Sean and Karen interrupted between you and Micah. You rarely interacted with the blonde cowboy whenever he was in camp, but you knew you were friendlier towards him than most of the others.

He’s flirted, or tried to flirt with every girl in camp already so you weren't surprised at him trying to kiss you.

But dammit you really wanted him to.

He coughed, more to get your attention than anything else. “So… if you’re done here darlin’, we better get back to camp.”

You felt yourself blush hearing him call you darlin’ again. You also almost laughed at his complete personality change. First he was a charming and dashing cowboy, next he was growling at Sean and now he looked a little nervous and unsure. It was kind of endearing.

Feeling like a little girl too afraid to talk to the boy she was sweet on, you actually tucked your hair behind your ear, trying to avoid his gaze. “Actually I… I ain’t exactly lookin’ forward to headin’ back just yet.”

Micah’s expression looked guarded and you weren’t sure what he was thinking. “What did you have in mind?”

You blamed the alcohol for wanting to grab his head and kiss him senseless then and there.

So you did.

Your lips were on his and you felt him go stiff before relaxing and kissing you back with just as much force, his hands going to either side of your face. You felt the rough texture of his beard and moustache on your skin, tickling you yet he couldn’t get enough of him.

It didn’t take long for Micah to take charge as he bit your lower lip gently, you opened your mouth just a bit but it was enough to allow Micah's tongue entry. You moaned against him and Micah was the first to break the kiss, letting you breathe while he placed some more open mouthed-kisses on your jaw and neck.

“Been wantin’ to do that for a while now.” he whispered against you.

You laughed breathlessly. “Reckon Sean and Karen killed the mood earlier. Glad I went for it, anyway.”

“Oh so am I sweetheart, so am I. Weren’t sure when the next opportunity was gonna present itself.”

You smirked as Micah finally stopped kissing you, and looked at you with those beautiful blue eyes of his. “Who knew all it took was a drunk cowboy to get us together, hmm?”

Micah brushed your hair out of your face and, in the most un-Micah way you’ve seen him be, placed a soft kiss on your forehead. “The man was a pathetic loser but I made sure to give him somethin’ as thanks.”

You looked up at him, brows furrowed. “You did?”

He grinned before he placed his arms around you and guided you towards Baylock. “Yep! Was about to break a bottle on his head, good thing I didn't, he can have the free whiskey as thanks.”

You couldn’t help but laugh.

The next morning at camp, John yelled at Sean for the… mess that was left in his tent. Sean tried to defend himself saying “Excuse me sir but Miss Jones and I had a lovely evenin’ at the Saints Hotel back in town.” John wasn’t having it though, unconvinced and already asked Ms. Grimshaw to just burn the sheets while he goes and gets some new ones.

As Sean grumbled on about how he didn’t do anything for once, Micah approached him, with a shit-eating grin on his face. You were close enough that you could hear what he said. “Awww, don’t be so sour, cowpoke. I reckon you should be more careful, like (Y/N) and I were last night. No one knows a thing.”

Micah walked away, hands on his gun belt and a swagger in his step. You waited about five seconds before-

“MICAH BELL YOU OILY TURD!”

You made a note to yourself that next time maybe make sure John’s tent is immaculately clean afterwards.

Or get a room in town.

#micah bell #micah bell x f reader #micah bell x reader #red dead redemption 2 #my writing #my fic

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sunaswife · 3 years

Text

Summary: It’s been five years since you’ve seen your ex, Rin. He’s still not over you and you’re not over him. When he finds out you have children he thought he didn’t have a chance. Then he finds out they’re his? All of a sudden you’re teaching Suna how to be a single dad.

note from denise: hi!! <3 this is a small chapter but i think an important one nonetheless :) i hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Fluff, angst I guess, drama, and cuteness twin overload

Previously Up Next Masterlist

Chapter Nine

“Is there anything you want for breakfast?” You asked Rin as you looked through your closet. He was laying back in bed under the covers, typical Rin. “No don’t bother making anything. I wanna treat you guys to breakfast.” He rubbed his eyes and you turned. “You don’t have to.” You immediately told him. “No i want to.” He assured and you smiled lightly. “Alright thank you.” You said softly and you grabbed your black overall skirt, white long sleeve and your favorite leggings.

“If you want you can wake up the kids.” You said before heading into the bathroom. He sat up and groaned and slowly made his way to their room. He opened the door and saw the two little foxes slide something under the bed. He tilted his head confused and they innocently looked up at him. “Good morning daddy.” They recited which honestly gave him the chills. Twins who could recite things at the same time are creepy. “Good morning. Now what were you guys hiding just now?” He asked with a raised brow. “Nothing—“ Akira innocently smiled. Even though these kids looked like Rin, they certainly had Y/N’s expressions. And that adorable smile that Suna has missed.

“You guys already know that lying is bad. Show me what you’re hiding?” He asked and sat on the floor across from them. Rini guiltily frowned and he reached under the bed to retrieve a box. It was an old shoe box. “A box? What? is it just an animal or something?” Rin asked and the kids shook their heads. Akira handed him the box and he opened it. The first thing he saw was a Polaroid of you and him. He felt a slap across his face. You smiled so bright and Rin had his deadpanned face like always. The photo behind the Polaroid was with you in between the twins. They were using your shoulders as an arm rest, each photo made his stomach turn and he saw napkins and tickets, you always wrote the date and a little heart with a note when Rin would take you to places.

“You and mommy looked so happy. Why did you guys leave eachother. I don’t get it.” Akira asked. “You won’t get it until you’re older.” Rin said and began to put everything back before he started crying. “Do you still love mommy?” Rini asked, Rin felt like he was in the hot seat.

They kept their eyes fixated on him. “Of course I do, she’s an amazing friend. She’s the mother of my children.” Rin started. “No not that kind of love...like love love. Like do you wanna marry her?” Akira asked but his phone rang and he saw the FaceTime call from his mother.

His face turned white and he immediately stood up and answered. “H-hi mom..” Rin cleared his throat and the twins gasped. “Grandma?!” They practically yelled. “Rintarou, are you babysitting or something?” His mother asked. “Um no I’m not—“ “Daddy Can we see grandma? We don’t have a grandma we wanna see our grandma!” Rini pulled the hem of his shirt and he looked down. “Daddy? Rintarou they’re not talking about you right?” His mother asked concerned. “Give me a sec...” he told the kids. “Start picking out your clothes.” He said and they quickly nodded and he went straight to the living room. He sighed and rested his hand on his forehead. “Rintarou talk to me. What’s going on? Did you get someone pregnant?” His mom asked. “Yes—no—it’s complicated I—“ “Rintarou it’s either a yes or a no.” His mom said.

Is this deja vu?

“Alright I’ll be honest. Yes I got a girl pregnant.” He sighed and brushed his hair back with his hand. His mom immediately changed her face to one of disappointment. She wasn’t expecting this when she called her son to ask when he was going to visit again.

“Rintaoru explain.” His moms tone completely changed and he gulped, he didn’t hear you coming from the hall. “Well..remember Y/N? My highschool girlfriend?” He asked. “The girl who’s the reason you were severely depressed and almost suicidal? Yeah how could I forget?” She replied sarcastically and you froze.

Wait...what?

“Well before we broke up we kind of..ya know and so she left and she didn’t tell me about them—“ “SHE DID WHAT?! Where is she I want to talk to her!” His mom raised her voice. “Rin I-“ you spoke up and he turned quickly to see you standing there in your cute outfit.

“Y/N, i need to speak with you.” His mother broke the silence and Rin was about to protest but you snatched his phone away. “Hello Mrs. Suna.” You said awkwardly but she had the same deadpanned expression your ex and kids have. “Why didn’t you tell my idiot son you were pregnant?” She demanded rather than ask. “Well it was because I was heartbroken, alone, and going through something traumatic. My parents kicked me out and I didn’t want Rin to have to drop out to help me support two children.” You said. “Two—“ “I had twins.” You interrupted. “How do you know they’re my sons—“ “He’s the only person I’ve ever slept with and they look exactly like him, ma’am. I assure you they’re his.” You replied.

“I don’t believe you not telling Rin you were pregnant because of your situation is an excuse.” She said. “I know. But I wanted to wait until Rin was more mature—“ “And had money and fame as a pro player right? So you could get money?” She asked and both of your and Rin’s eyes widened. “Excuse me. I’m doing more than fine on my own and I have not asked Rin for anything.”

“What do you do for a living?” She asked as if trying to prove you wrong, “I’m a sports commentator, voice actress and Internet personality. I have my own house and car so don’t you dare accuse me of wanted to take money from Rintarou because I will never ask him for anything then to be in the kids lives—“

“Okay that’s enough—mom please stop. We still have a lot of things to talk about regarding the kids and co-parenting. I need to go, we’re taking them on a field trip.” He said after taking the phone away. “When are you guys both free?” His mother asked. “As a single mother I can assure you that I’m never free.” You replied sassily. “I’m free in two weeks—“ Rin interrupted again before another fight started. “..me too..” you replied after checking your calender on the wall.

“Okay, I want you both in Hyogo with the kids. We need to chat.” She said and hung up. You and Rin just looked at eachother and blinked in shock. Like...did that just happen? The kids peered over the hallway doorpost and frowned. They wanted to meet their grandma.

“We’ll talk later.” You told him and he nodded. You turned back down the hall and mumbled something about getting the kids ready for today. Suna changed back into his clothes from yesterday and when the kids look all presentable and cute you all left.

“I should have know.” You said as you looked at the bright sign that said Onigiri Miya. Rin helped Akira out of the car seat and he chuckled. “Osamu’s food is bomb and you know it. I get a best friend discount either way.” He shrugged as you held Rini’s hand and Rin held Akiras hand and you both walked to the shop.

“Hmm? What a surprise!” Osamu spoke up when the bell chimed. “Good morning uncle Samu!” The kids giggled and let go to run to the counter. “How are my favorite munchkins?” He asked as they smiled and looked at the pictured food in amazement.

They act like you never feed them and when you do they just eat two bites and they’re “full”.

“Sup.” “Yo.” Suna and Osamu greeted. “Good morning Osamu.” You said politely and he smiled. “Good morning Y/N.” He replied. “When Suna didn’t come back last night I got a bit worried and he didn’t answer my texts till this morning but I’m glad he was with you.” Osamu said and you didn’t see Suna’s small blush. “Oh well the kids really wanted him to sleep over so he reluctantly agreed and we just called it a night.” You chuckled and he nodded. In the car, Suna told you his situation. He’s currently being transferred over to Tokyo in a different team and his lease ended so instead of getting another lease he moved out and he’s crashing with Osamu for a bit.

While you both talked you couldn’t see the look your kids were giving eachother. The opportunity was perfect and they’re going to take full advantage of it.

Finally you and Rin decided on what to order as well as the kids and you all sat down patiently. Rin was showing the kids pictures of his dog, Chewy. It was short for Chewbacca and you sighed at how much of a nerd Suna really is. But yet again that was another thing you guys bonded over back then.

Soon the food arrived and the kids loved it, you loved it. Rin obviously loved it. It was just so freaking good. “How much was the food again? So I can pay half.” You asked after wiping your mouth and Suna frowned. “I told you I got it.” He flicked your forehead and you smacked his hand. “Oww.” You whined. “It’s free cuz you demanded that I give you free food when I opened my restaurant, remember?” Osamu spoke up from the counter and you squinted. “But—“ “No if’s, but’s, or coconuts. I’m not charging Rin today.” Osamu said and you told him a small thank you.

“Y/N the ticket booth is this way..” Rin pointed out as you walked to the gates. “I came prepared.” You said and pulled out the QR code’s on your phone. “Mama still gets nervous talking to strangers sometimes so she usually is prepared.” It didn’t take long for everyone to go through the gates and Rin realized you have to had payed for his ticket.

He kept bugging throughout the day that he could pay for everyone instead but you smacked his arm and pointed at your kids in the distance. They were at the kids section where they could touch starfish and Akira was obviously a little bit nervous. But Rini was there guiding her hand and making sure she was using the two fingers to pet the animals.

“Rini may be a bit of an airhead but he always remembers that he’s a big brother and he’s always there for Akira when she’s nervous or scared..” you told him and his heart melted. They were just so cute. “Um..excuse me..Suna Rintarou...hi I’m a big fan and I was wondering if I can take a photo or get an autograph..” a small voice said and you turned to see a teenage boy.

“Sure dude.” Suna smiled softly and the guy took out his phone for a selfie, “I can take the picture.” You spoke up and the teenager gasped.” “Kageyama Y/N! Oh my god, are you really cousins with Tobio? Or do you just happen to have the same last name? I love listening to your podcasts and the yandere video game that your in is amazing!” He began to geek out and you laughed. “Yeah Tobio and I are cousins, and thanks for the support! You’re a man of culture I see.” You joked.

There was a slight pause of realization with him and he gasped. “Oh..am I interrupting your date?” He asked and looked between you both.

“Yes.”

“No.”

He tilted his head confused and you held Rin’s hand and hugged his arm. Your chest practically engulfed his arm and he almost had a nose bleed. “We went to the same highschool together so we’re catching up with a small date.” You said causing Suna’s face to turn bright red. The boy apologized for bothering and he took a selfie with you both and left.

You quickly let go and you put some distance between you both. Suna began fanning his face and you tried to hide your blush. Out of everything you could do, why would you do that?!

“I don’t know if you wanna tell the world that you have two kids or that you got some chick pregnant in highschool.” You told him. “You weren’t some chick, and I honestly don’t care if people know.” He said and you sighed and turned back to your kids. “But if you’re gonna keep doing that then it’s fine.” He said and you turned back to see him covering his mouth in shock. “I said that out loud didn’t I?” He asked and you nodded.

This was going to be a long day.

TAGLIST IS CLOSED

🏷: @therealwalmartjesus @differentballooncollection @aaesuki @atsunflower @dope-squish @prettysetterboiss @june-phantom @tomo-uwu @austriasmariazelle @xrnia @katsulia @aprettyfruit @shut-your-eyes-kiss-me-goodbye @tvbiio @sun-daddy-yoriichi @kamenoyaki @ppangiiroo @loeyprivvv @kmskj92 @lovinnoya @sarahvvictoria @tris-does-stuff @mokkeguts @sunaluvr6969 @bara-rose-would @sempiternal-amour @volleybloop @leykyuu @bokutoichigo @stfucanunot @iloveanime691 @tpwkatsumu @ohshirabu @shoutosimp @mqrinqcele @bokutosdivineass @anngelllla @toworuu @hidden-otaku-stuff @seijohiselite @caxsthetic @aquariarose @hhwanggu @bakuhoetoedoroki @yoozuku @osamus-onigiri @akaashi-todorki @donica95 @kakaokenma @airheadpillar

#haikyuu suna #miya atsumu #suna rintarou fluff #suna rintarō #suna x reader #haikyuu x you #miya osamu #suna imagines #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu!! x reader #suna rintaro x reader #hq suna #suna fluff

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wandas-sunshine · 3 years

Text

Free Falling

Summary: You’re nervous about Tony’s annual Christmas Ball, but Bucky is there to help ease your nerves, or maybe make them worse. Either way you’re happy to spend your time with him.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 1,690

Warnings: Minor alcohol mention, reader is pretty anxious

A/N: This doesn’t specify the reader’s gender, but the reader does wear a dress so I apologize if that ruins it for you guys. Let me know what you think! Happy holidays my dears

Tony Stark’s parties were legendary. His annual Christmas Ball was the event of the year. A live orchestra, the best chefs in the world, and decorations that probably cost more than your house. Or at least that’s what you’d heard. Even after years of working with the Avengers, you’d never gone to one. You received an invitation every year, and every year you’d stare at it, but never once did you attend. You just didn’t have the confidence, or a date. Fancy dance parties weren’t exactly your cup of tea. But this year there was a new variable being tossed into play.

You had just been given your invitation. The words were printed in swirling silver script that reminded you of freshly fallen snow. You were so focused on the looping print that you didn’t notice Steve joining you in the kitchen.

“Are you thinking of going?” He asked. You nearly jumped out of your skin, whirling around to look at him. He gave you a sheepish smile.

“Oh, um...yeah, maybe. I don’t know, it’s not really my thing.” You shrugged and put the invitation back on the table. Steve hummed and picked it up.

“Buck is going this year.” He stated. You bit your lip. To most anyone who had known you for any length of time, your feelings for Bucky were common knowledge. The only person still in the dark about it was Bucky himself, and you were happy to keep it that way. “I think he’d like seeing you there.”

You wanted so badly to ask why he’d care if you were at Tony’s stupid ball anyway. Nevertheless, the promise of seeing him was enough to convince you to face your fears and RSVP.

The next issue came with trying to find something you could get away with wearing. One look at your wardrobe was enough to make it clear that formal situations were not your usual environment. So Natasha decided to take things into her own hands. She argued that you didn’t know how to dress yourself up properly.

One shopping spree later and she had you dressed to kill, though not literally for a change. Of course you were insecure, staring yourself down in the mirror and picking out all of the flaws and insecurities. You probably would have backed out if it wasn’t for how excited your friends were for you to finally join them.

So there you stood outside the looming doors with Steve by your side. You clung to his arm with trembling hands, just praying that your knees wouldn’t go weak when you tried to walk inside. He’d been awfully sweet when you’d asked him to stay with you for a moment. You hadn’t expected to be so terrified, but nearly all of the most influential people in the world were beyond those doors. You could hear the music, and the excited chatter on the other side.

“Maybe I should just go home,” You decided, smoothing your hands over the skirt of your dress. Steve’s hand rested against your shoulder and gave a reassuring squeeze.

“Come on, you’re gonna have a good time.” He guided you gently through the doors.

The room was stunning, vaulted ceilings and wide open space. The bar was on the far end, and it was already crowded with people and lined with silver garland. The walls were lined with trees bigger than any you’d ever seen, all decorated in red and gold. There were shimmering silver snowflakes that looked like they were floating in midair. It was breathtaking really, more beautiful than any of the other parties Tony had thrown you were sure.

You didn’t get to admire the view for too long before you felt the familiar prickle at the back of your neck. You looked up to find several pairs of eyes on you, a few people even swapping whispered comments that you could only imagine were about the two of you standing there frozen at the entrance. You felt your stomach drop as the panic set in. You were no good at being the center of attention. You mentally scrutinized your appearance, but your attention was caught once again.

“Are you alright?” Your eyes snapped up, immediately meeting the steady gaze of one James Barnes. He looked like a model standing there. His black suit jacket covered his red vest and white undershirt. He’d tied his hair back into a bun at the base of his skull, and a few rebellious locks had fallen out into his face. You couldn’t help but think about how well the look suited him, what with the way it accentuated his stubble jawline.

“Everyone is looking over here,” You answered, your eyes drifting down to look at your overpriced shoes. He chuckled, and hearing that sound, you thought, may have been the closest to heaven you’d ever get.

“Let them look. You’re stunning.” The conviction in his voice made your chest fill with nerves until there was no room for your breath. You could have sworn that the floor had fallen out from beneath your feet. You were freefalling. You weren’t often on the receiving end of such compliments. Especially not from him. “Come on, everyone’s over by the bar,”

He offered your arm, and Steve gently pulled away from you. Even with your nerves, you knew it would be impolite to decline, so you rested your hand in the crook of his elbow. With two super soldiers flanking you, the crowd parted like the red sea. Unfortunately that also meant that a surprising amount of attention was turned to the person they were escorting. Everyone was looking at the three of you like you were royalty, but you were too preoccupied to notice, too distracted by Bucky.

When he left your side, you had found solace in the company of Sam and Natasha, both of whom looked stunning enough to make you a little insecure. Not that either of them were going to have any part of you talking badly about yourself. A few compliments later, and Bucky was back beside you, pressing a drink into your hand. You didn’t know what it was but you could use a little something to help you calm down. So you sipped it.

Once you had settled in with all of your friends things didn’t seem so terrible. But the whole time Bucky stayed glued to your side. You didn’t complain one bit. You were a couple of drinks in, joking with Wanda and Bucky until she was stolen away for a dance. Then there were two.

The two of you both fell quiet after only a moment. You sipped your drink and scanned the room. Everyone seemed to be having fun, but you were still pretty sure you stood out like a sore thumb.

“You need to stop thinking so much. Come on,” He took your drink out of your hand and set it down with yours. You quirked an eyebrow at him as he held his hand out for you. “Dance with me,”

You shook your head frantically. You were having enough trouble functioning just standing beside him. He still took your hand in his.

“Bucky, I don’t know how to dance.” You blurted out, pulling your hand from his even though you liked the way they fit so perfectly together.

“Don’t you trust me?” He took your hand again, this time more firmly so you wouldn’t pull it away again. “Just follow me lead,”

“I still don’t know about this,” You whined. Once he had led you to the floor, he carefully showed you what to do with your hands. With so many bodies closing in, you had no choice but to gravitate closer to him. He held you so gently, and the light scent of his cologne was dizzying. Lucky for you he had a hand pressed warm and firm against your lower back.

“You look like you’re gonna pass out,” He joked, leaning down to whisper directly into your ear. You shivered at the feeling of his breath tickling against your skin.

“I’m just nervous.” You laughed nervously at the confession. You hardly noticed how easily he was leading you to dance alongside the other couples on the floor. It was easy to follow his lead. You would, after all, follow him to the ends of the earth.

“Why are you nervous? You’re a natural,” He complimented, and you felt your body flush hot.

“It’s stupid,” You shook your head. The long silence between you told you clearly that he wasn’t letting you off the hook so easily. “I always get nervous around you,”

“Is that why you always avoid me?” He smirked, but there wasn’t the edge of disappointment or harsh amusement that you had expected from him. You nodded, your laugh fizzling into flustered giggles. This was pathetic.

“When I’m around you it’s like my brain forgets how to work.” You confessed. You weren’t sure why you were spilling all your secrets to him, but once you started talking to him it was just so easy to keep going.

“You don’t seem to be having any trouble now.” He laughed, bright and bubbly like that thought alone made him happy. You wondered if that really did make him happy, but wasn’t that just wishful thinking?

“Really? Cuz I feel like I’m dying. Guess it just takes practice.” You were joking, sort of anyway, but Bucky grinned. He gave your waist a little squeeze and leaned down again, lips brushing the shell of your ear as he whispered.

“Then you should spend more time with me. You should let me take you on a real date.” Your heart stuttered in your chest as his words sunk in. Maybe Christmas miracles were real, because Bucky Barnes being interested in you had to be thanks to some sort of holiday magic.

“Do you mean that?” You asked. He nodded a silent response, eyes locked with yours. “Yeah, yeah we should give that a go.”

That was the moment you finally admitted that maybe attending this stupid ball wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

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just-jordie-things · 4 years

Text

Love Letter - Richie Tozier

word count: 12,440 (I got really carried away) warnings: swearing request: @oceanspray5: Hi! Can you write a hc or (even better) a fic for Richie x fem!Reader (only if you want to of course) where he is deeply in love with her. She's sweet and nice but evryone says he's bad for her cuz he's a trashmouth so he would only corrupt her. Cue Richie leaving secret notes and flowers from the quarry in her locker as an outlet to try and rid himself of his heartache/feelings, not expecting anything in return, until one day she accidently finds out and it's happy ending of course. Thank you! summary: When Ben tells Richie that the best thing to help with his feelings for (y/n) is to write her a love letter, the trashmouth never expected it to turn into a full on secret admirer thing.

___

A simple note. That’s all he had to do, all he had to write. He could pour out everything he was feeling into one little letter, slip it into her locker, and get it over with.

Ben said that’s how easy it was! He’d told him that as long as he was honest, and spilled his very heart out onto the paper, then his heart wouldn’t go so crazy around her anymore. He wouldn’t feel like he was suffocating as she filled every one of his senses.

However, now that he’s looking at this letter, this heartfelt letter, and probably the most sincere thing he’s ever written, he didn’t feel all that much better.

So right away, he picked up the phone and called Ben.

“Hi, Richie-”

“Yeah hey, what the fuck is this shit?” Richie jumped right into it, before Ben could even really say hello. “You said this would help!”

“Are you talking about the letter?” Ben asked hopefully.

Richie rolled his eyes.

“No. I’m talking about fucking smoking crack- yes I’m talking about the letter. You told me that once I wrote it, it would be off my chest and I wouldn’t have to think about her anymore?”

Ben was silent on the other end for a moment, and Richie tapped his foot impatiently on the floor.

“What do you mean?” He finally asked.

“What do I- Ben!” Richie screeched into the phone, “I said that I needed to stop thinking about (y/n) all the time, because I was starting to act like an idiot in front of her, remember?”

“Right, because you’re in love with her” Ben said in agreement.

“Yeah, whatever, my point is I wrote the goddamn letter and it hasn’t helped”

“Well, what do you mean it hasn’t helped?”

“I mean I’m still fucking thinking about her!” Richie yelled again.

“Can you stop yelling? It hurts my ear,” Ben muttered. “But you're doing something wrong, writing her a little love note isn’t supposed to get rid of your own feelings”

“But that’s what I-!”

“I don’t get why you want to stop liking her, (y/n’s) awesome,” Ben cut him off. “What you should do is give her your letter”

Richie almost had a heart attack. He really thought he was going to spasm and then drop dead on his bedroom floor.

“What, the, fuck?”

“Yeah,” Ben responds, and Richie can only assume that he’s shrugging his shoulders. “After I gave Bev my poem, I felt way better! Just knowing that she know how I feel-”

“What the hell? She doesn’t even know it’s from you!” Richie shrieks.

It’s silent again.

“Sorry for yelling” Richie mumbled.

“Thanks,” Ben answers. “But you don’t have to tell her that it’s you. It still feels good to know that she knows someone really likes her. Just give her it, you’ll know what I mean”

“How do I give it to her without her knowing it was from me?”

“I dunno. Slip it in her locker?”

Richie mulls it over for a moment, thinking about how he could put a letter like this in her locker when she’s not around. He decides that no one can be around, he doesn’t want a single person on this planet to know that he’s done this. Besides Ben, he supposes.

“You sure it’ll help?”

“Yeah” Ben replies, but it’s unenthusiastic, and not convincing at all.

Richie thinks he might just have to take the chance anyways, because if he holds onto all these feelings any longer, he might just explode, and that doesn’t seem like a good idea. ___

That’s how Richie finds himself sneaking into the hall the next day at school. He’d asked to go to the bathroom in the middle of class, when he knew the halls would be empty, and it would be the prime time to put his letter in (y/n’s) locker.

His plan worked.

There was no one around, and he slipped the folded paper in between the vents of her locker.

Luckily, he met her at her locker every day after school, so he knew exactly which one was hers. And as soon as the paper disappeared and fluttered into the locker, he felt the weight lift off his shoulders.

Ben was right. This was exactly what I needed.

He lingered there at her locker for a minute, feeling more relaxed than ever. And (y/n) hadn’t even read it yet. This was going to be perfect.

Maybe she’d wonder who it was for a couple days, maybe even for a week. But eventually she’ll get over it, and Richie hoped he could get over his feelings for her too.

Then they could go back to being friends, and he wouldn’t feel so awkward all the time. Perfect. ___

“Do you know anything about this?”

Beverly turned to (y/n), blowing a rather large bubble of bubblegum as she glanced at the paper in her friend’s hands. Shrugging, she shook her head, and her bubblegum popped.

“Nope” She answered.

(y/n) let out a short sound of disappointment as she looked back at the paper. It had been stuffed haphazardly in her locker, and as soon as she’d put in the combination and opened the door, it had fluttered down to her feet.

It was exciting at first, from the moment she opened it, she hung onto every word spilled out on the page. It was definitely the grandest gesture anyone had ever done for her, not to mention the most romantic thing she’d ever read. And to know that someone had written this for her, it made her heart pound in her ears, and her whole face had turned pink.

She read it over three times, before gathering her things for her next class, and racing off. She’d hoped, she’d crossed her fingers that Beverly knew who the boy was that had forgotten to sign his name.

She even said a little prayer in hopes that it was the boy she wished.

But if Beverly didn’t know about this note, then she probably didn’t know who it was from.

“What’s wrong?” The red haired girl asked, realizing that (y/n) had deflated in her seat.

“Oh, nothing, I just…”

“You want it to be from someone, don’t you?” Beverly asked, a smirk spreading across her lips.

She’s been friends with (y/n) for years now, and knew exactly what that longing look on her face meant.

“Well, maybe,” The girl admitted softly. “But it’s just so… carefully written, you know? I just feel like… like whoever wrote it should tell me”

“It is odd that it’s not signed,”

Beverly furrowed her brows, eyes skimming over the page skeptically. Her mind drifted to the beautiful poem she’d gotten on a postcard a couple years ago, and how that hadn’t been signed either.

“That means they don’t want you to know who it’s from”

“But I’m dying to know, Bev”

“Yeah, well, unless you want to interrogate the whole school, you’ll just have to accept it”

(y/n) frowned.

“That’s horrible advice”

Beverly laughed, and shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly.

“Or you could always do a little investigating. Match up the handwriting, see if there’s anyone who talks to you like that,” She suggested, gesturing to the paper. “Wanna talk after school? Maybe flip through the yearbook and look at possible candidates?”

“Sure,” (y/n) lets out a small laugh at the idea. “Making lists always helps”

Of course, Beverly knew that.

“Great, I’ll call you after I finish this essay I’ve been putting off?” The redhead asked.

(y/n) nodded in agreement, thinking this was probably the next best idea they had.

She read through the note one more time, before carefully folding it back up by it’s original creases, and tucking it carefully into her bag. Class was going to start soon, she’d have to put off her investigation for another time. ___

Richie Tozier always met (y/n) at her locker at the end of the day. Mostly because it was the only time none of their other friends could drag her away from him. They had a tendency to want to put distance between the two.

Stan and Eddie had told (y/n) time and time again that she shouldn’t get too ‘exposed’ to Richie because he was such a trashmouth. She didn’t get it, and ignored their stupid warnings anyways. She was a big girl, she could make decisions for herself.

Besides, whenever she’d get to her locker to find Richie leaning against it, her knees got weak, and her heart would soar.

“Hello, Tozier” She greeted with a wide smile, one that she didn’t even bother to try taming.

“G’afternoon, m’lady” He responds in a dumb and not too great accent, but she laughs anyways as she spins in her locker combo.

Richie’s tapping his foot, staring at her anxiously. The good feeling he’d had earlier today getting eaten up by his nerves. What if she knew?

“Hey, are you doing anything?” She asks him, glancing up at him as she puts her books away.

“Besides standing here and breathing? I guess not” He retorts.

Jesus fucking christ that was the most embarassing thing you’ve ever said, what are you? A dad? Because that was a dad joke you dumb fuck-

“I mean after school,” (y/n) giggles, slinging her backpack over her shoulder, and shutting her locker. “I want a slushie”

“And I’m the only fella in the land that you want to accompany you?” He asks.

He mentally face-palms again.

For fucks sake would you get it together?

But again, she laughs, and nods her head.

“Sure, something like that,” She tells him. “Wanna go?”

“Abso-fuckin’-lutely”

They walk side by side out of school and into town. Normally they’d go to the quarry together to meet the others, but pretty much everyone had something going on, and couldn’t make it.

Some of Richie’s nerves had calmed, but he still found himself tapping at his leg when it would get silent between them.

She had a way of easing his nerves, but still making his heart pound like it was trying to get out of his chest.

(y/n) looked over to him, and leaned over to bump her side against his, bringing him out of his stupor.

“You sure are quiet today, Trashmouth,” She commented. “Somethin’ on your mind?”

“No, I just like hearing you run your mouth” He replied, hoping that she brushed his awkwardness as just him teasing.

She rolled her eyes back at him, but a smile curled on her lips.

“You’re funny,” She says nonchalantly. “I didn’t mean to talk so much”

“No really, you ramble a lot, it’s hilarious and adorable”

Her face got hot immediately after the word left his mouth, and so did Richie’s, but he did his best to hide it.

They get to 7-Eleven not too long after, and finally Richie seems to be his usual self.

He mixes a bunch of slushie flavors together, like an animal, and (y/n) can’t help but stick her tongue out as she watches him mix blueberry, cherry, orange, and lemon lime.

“What’s your problem?” Richie asks, adding banana slushie until it’s reached the top of his cup.

(y/n) shakes her head and scrunches up her nose in mock disgust at the action.

“How can you drink that?” She asks, filling her own cup with her usual cherry and blueberry mix. The way you were supposed to drink them.

“I like to live dangerously, toots” Richie replied with a wink that made her roll her eyes affectionately.

He brought his cup to the counter, giving the clerk the money for it and then some to cover (y/n’s). Just as she’d walked up to the register, sipping on her perfectly mixed drink, Richie was already grabbing her arm and pulling her out of the store.

“But I have to-”

“I already paid,” He told her, and cut her off just as she opened her mouth to protest. “Too late now, it’s already paid for, now come on”

She made a face, because she did not need him to do that, but it was still kind, so she thanked him quietly and followed behind him as they went outside.

They sat on the curb, setting their bookbags down and enjoying their cold drinks.

“It’s weird that we don’t hang out” (y/n) said, and Richie looked over to her, but she was staring down at her cup.

“Yeah,” He agreed. “But it’d be pretty humiliating to be murdered by Eddie, so…”

She laughs, but it’s half-hearted.

“Still…” She trails off, and dares a glance over to him. “We should just hang out anyways” Her eyes can’t meet his as she speaks, too bashful, but she waits for him to respond.

Richie gives her a wide grin, and when he chuckles, she finally looks up at him.

“How devious of you, breaking rules and shit” He says before sipping on his horrible concoction of flavors that shouldn’t taste good together.

“It’s not a rule,” She says, scolding him just a bit. “It’s just… I don’t want to upset my friends, our friends,” She says carefully, and then peeks up at him nervously. “But… you’re my friend too you know”

Somehow she did that thing again. Where his heart skyrockets, and then crashes so hard in his gut he thinks it might make him barf.

That might be his slushie talking, though.

“Yeah, I know,” Richie responds, staring downwards so he didn’t have to see her expression. “You’re my friend too”

A small smile quirks on her lips, and then she scoots closer to him, setting her drink down to grab her bag.

“As my friend, would you like to help me on a very top secret investigation?”

She wiggles her eyebrows at him excitedly before opening her backpack, and rummaging in it.

“I want to ask more questions but how can I say no to an invitation like- oh fuck”

She pulls out a folded piece of paper that Richie recognizes instantly, he almost spits out orange flavor from his nose, but he’s quick to swallow and sets his cup down.

As (y/n) excitedly hands him the opened note, he grabs at it frantically, eyes scanning over the words he thought he’d memorized. He hadn’t, apparently, because reading it now made his gut wrench and he wished he had just gotten a plain cherry slushie.

“Isn’t that fucking awesome?” (y/n) squeals, latching onto his arm with both hands, and reading along with him.

Richie’s eyes probably scanned over the paper four times before he finally reacted.

“Holy shit, toots,” He mumbled. “You’ve got someone whipped”

She blinked at him, her smile still on her face, even though with every passing second, she was confirming her worst thought.

It wasn’t Richie.

A part of her heart longed for him to say ‘to be honest… I wrote you this’. But the longer Richie stared at it, analyzing the text, the harder reality struck her. It couldn’t be him.

When he handed her the note back, she frowned for a moment, but just as quickly plastered on a smile.

“Something wrong with it?” Richie asked, a bit too impulsive, but he caught her look and freaked out at the thought that she was disappointed in it.

“No, actually, it’s entirely perfect,” She admitted softly, holding onto the edges of the paper as not to put a single crinkle in it. “But Bev says that whoever did write it, had no intention of coming forward”

“Well, yeah, isn’t that the point?” Richie asked.

“The point?” (y/n) repeated unsurely.

“Yeah, that now you know someone out there… loves you… that much”

He cringed at his words, but (y/n) stared up at him, waiting for more of an explanation.

“I don’t understand,” She told him. “If I loved someone that much… I think that it would be very difficult for me to hide that,”

She wasn’t wrong, but Richie almost shivered as a chill went down his spine.

“I mean, wouldn’t you?”

“Wouldn’t I what?” He asked, too lost in thought to focus on her words.

“Well, think of it from my perspective,” (y/n) angled her body towards his as she spoke. “If you’d gotten a note like this, wouldn’t you expect someone to come out and just- I don’t know, profess their love to you? It feels like a pretty grand gesture to me,”

Richie contemplates it for a moment. He thinks about declaring his love for her, loudly, in front of the whole school, the whole world, and just pouring his heart out in ways he couldn’t have done on paper. Telling her every beautiful thing about her that he loves, every wonderful thing that has changed his life, and his view on what it truly means to be alive-

“I’m daydreaming way too much,” (y/n) draws him back from his thoughts with a short laugh and a shake of her head. “Wow, I really thought I was in a romance novel for a second there”

She laughs again, but Richie can barely hold a smile.

“I don’t think that’s a bad thing,” He says, picking up his slushie. “And I think it’s normal for you to want to… um… know who wrote it”

She gives him a sad sort of smile, and finally lets go of his arm so she can grab hold of her own slushie.

“I don’t think I’m gonna figure it out,” She sighs. “But if you hear anything, you’d tell me, right?”

“Absolutely,” Richie answers without hesitation, and the smile that takes over her lips is genuine this time. “Trade?” He asks, holding out his slushie for her.

Her nose crinkles again, but she curiously leans over to take a sip from his straw.

After swallowing, she smacks her lips, tasting the remnants of the strange flavor.

“Okay. It’s not that bad” She admits, and Richie beams at her victoriously before drinking from her own plain slushie.

“I knew you’d like it, toots”

They hang out on the curbside until their slushies are gone, and then Richie walks her home.

She does an odd thing as she says goodbye though, something she’s never done before anyways.

She hugs him.

It’s quick, and he doesn’t even have the time to reciprocate the action before she’s pulling away, smiling as she waves, and heads inside.

It’s simple, but he thinks about it over and over as he walks home. ___

(y/n),

I want to keep this simple, because honestly if I get too into it I think I’ll keep writing until there’s no more paper in the world. Or at least no more paper that I have.

So, I’m in love with you, take that as you will, but writing it has been surreal, let alone feeling it for the last year or so. I just wanted to let you know, because it’s been weighing on me for a while now, and I think I’m going to die soon from feeling it all the time.

And it’s not artificial either, it’s real love, and I’ve felt it long enough now to know that it's a complete and total infatuation I have for you, I’m not just romanticizing what we have. Which isn’t much to begin with. But still, I love you.

I thought you deserved to know. It doesn’t feel fair to you, for me to have this all-consuming feeling and not let you know, even though it concerns you. I think you’re the greatest person I’ve ever met, and the greatest one I ever will meet, and I think that you deserve to be loved like this, the way I love you.

Yours,

Empty.

(y/n) stared at that spot like if she waited long enough, a name would appear. Of course, after ten minutes of laying in bed and staring, nothing happened.

Besides the sudden spikes in her heartbeat of course.

But she’d figure it out eventually. Even if it took the rest of the year, hell, even if it took the rest of her life, she was committed to finding the author. ___

Richie woke up earlier than usual the next morning. Maybe because he couldn’t sleep, maybe because all he thought about was (y/n) and the fact that he’d poured his heart out to her, and she didn’t even know it.

And he was just dying to do it again.

It may have been too early to go to school, but he got himself ready and left the house anyways.

He decided that it was a good idea to collect flowers on his walk to school, stalling and plucking any of the prettiest ones he could find.

Dandelions are weeds, Richie, his mother’s voice scolded in his head, but he pushed the thought away.

By the time he made it to school, he had quite an abundance of dandelions, clovers, bluebells, and some tiny purple flower that he knew she’d think was pretty.

He was pretty proud that he was able to tie the tiny bouquet with a broken dandelion stem. And he thought that (y/n) would find it cute too. She was always picking dandelions and cattails and other strange plants from the quarry, either placing them in Bev’s hair, or fashioning them together in a crown.

Once he’d made it to the school, he had just enough time to stick the flowers carefully into the vents of (y/n’s) locker, so that they would stay in place without falling. ___

(y/n) almost squealed with delight when she’d found the gift at her locker this morning. Beverly had to remind her that it was too early in the day for such high pitched sounds.

“But they’re so cute” (y/n) murmured.

“So is this a regular thing then?” Beverly asked, drawing (y/n) out of the trance she appeared to be in while staring at the flowers. “You know, the notes and flowers and… shit”

(y/n’s) brows furrowed, but Beverly just smirked back at her.

“I hope so,” She answered. “I mean, it should be easier to figure out who it is that way, right? They’ve got to slip up at some point”

“I guess that makes sense,” Beverly shrugs. “Hey, how come you didn't call me yesterday? I thought we were gonna flip through yearbooks and list the options?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” (y/n) exclaimed. “I completely forgot, I just got caught up with…”

“With what?” Beverly asked.

(y/n) glanced around the busy halls, making sure that Stan or Eddie was nowhere around.

“Okay, don’t tell the others… but Richie and I hung out yesterday” (y/n) admitted, a bit more shy than she needed to be.

Her cheeks turned pink, and she had to bite back a grin. The action only made Bev’s smirk widen.

“Oh did you?” She mused, crossing her arms and leaning against the locker next to (y/n’s).

“Yeah,” (y/n) mumbled, almost dreamily. “We got slushies”

“Well isn’t that just romantic?”

“What? No- no it wasn’t like- no no no-”

“You’re stammering,” Beverly laughs. “Besides, I already knew you had a thing for him”

“What-!?” (y/n) hissed, but it didn’t matter, because Bev just shook her head.

“Yeah, it was pretty obvious. But anyways, how was it? Did you show him the note?”

“I did…” She said through a small huff. “ANd um, it wasn’t from him”

“Oh” Beverly said with the same disappointment.

“But that’s okay, it’s Richie, he would never do something like that,” (y/n) brushed it off with an awkward laugh. “Besides, you know how Stan and Eddie are, always trying to keep me away from him”

Beverly rolled her eyes, but she could tell that she’d hoped Richie had been behind all this, so she tried to move past the sensitive subject.

“Speaking of those idiot boys, we better get to class” ___

The next day, (y/n) found another small string of flowers tucked into the vents of her locker.

And the day after that, multiple small bouquets.

And the day after that, her locker was blanketed in dandelion and lilac heads, taped carefully to cover the whole door. She probably gawked at it for five minutes before putting in her combination as delicately as possible, not wanting to make any of the pretty decorations fall off.

“Wow,”

The voice made her jump, and she swiveled around to see Richie grinning at the current state of her locker.

“That’s… a lot” He said, it was all he could think to say.

“Yeah,” (y/n) answered bashfully, letting out a soft giggle. “Whoever did this must have come to school really early,” She mumbled, mostly to herself.

Maybe that’s how she’d get him, and it dawned on her, that it was the only possible solution.

Her eyes noticeably widened as her jaw dropped open at the realization.

“Oh my god, Richie, you’re a genius”

“Um-”

“Before school, they’ve got to do all this before school! In the morning!”

She grabs his shoulders and shakes him excitedly without thinking. The poor boy looks so confused, and worried, but he gives her the best smile he can manage. It’s not pretty.

“You want to come with me?” She asks him.

She looks so hopeful, her eyes are bright and she’s pushing her lips together to keep from smiling too wide, but Richie can tell she wants to.

Well. Fuck.

“Want to, um, what-?”

“Want to catch him with me?” She asks, trying to talk quietly, but the eagerness in her voice makes it go up a couple octaves.

He thinks she looks like a six year old on christmas morning. And how is he supposed to say no to her?

“Sure,” He says, and it takes a lot for him not to let out a sigh as he agrees. “How early though? Because I like to sleep until I absolutely have to-”

“Thank you, Richie!” (y/n’s) enthusiasm was bubbling over the top, as she practically jumped up to kiss his cheek, before grabbing her things to head off to class.

He’s stunned to frozenness, of course, by the quick action.

“I gotta go, but I’ll call you tonight to talk about the morning!” She calls after him, and waves goodbye as she makes her way down the hall.

Even when the bell rings, he’s still standing there, the spot on his face where her lips had brushed burning hot on his skin.

But the sweet moment is quickly washed away as he realizes what he just agreed to. ___

Richie isn’t surprised to hear (y/n’s) voice as soon as he picked up his phone that night. It was late, far too late for him to be up and talking on the phone, but he’d keep his voice down so his parents wouldn’t wake up.

Luckily, he had his own extension in his room.

“Alright toots, what’s your plan?” He asked, sitting back on his bed while she began her rambling.

“Okay, I’ve thought it out perfectly,” She starts, and he expected no less. “The perfect hiding spot- and stay with me here- is the girl’s bathroom across the hall from my-”

“Yeah, no,” Richie disagreed right away. “I’m not going in the girl’s bathroom, I’m not that much of a perv”

“It’s not pervy!” She argued. “No one else will be there, it’s fine. Now hush and listen,”

Richie rolls his eyes, but manages to keep quiet so she can continue explaining her plan.

“I say we hide out there for half an hour, and catch him in the act!”

The boy can’t help with wince, feeling guilty, since she won’t be catching anybody.

“Alright then,” He exhales. “You’re telling me I have to get up at 6:30?”

“No, I’m telling you we have to be there at 6:30,” She corrects him politely. “You should probably get up around-”

“Why don’t you swing by here on your way, and then we’ll just go together,” Richie suggests. “Just ring the doorbell, and I’ll wake up, and we’ll go”

“Richie, that won’t be nearly enough time-”

“Trust me toots, it’s plenty of time,” He cuts her off, and she’s quiet on the other end of the line. “Well, I best be getting to sleep since you’re getting me up so early for this scheme of yours”

“It’s not a scheme, Tozier, it’s a plan!”

“It’s a scheme”

“Plan!”

“G’night toots” Richie laughs, and he can hear her mumbling in frustration.

“Goodnight” She answers, and then hangs up the line.

Almost as soon as he puts the phone down, Richie’s confidence disappears, and anxiety strikes him again.

He really was going to kill Ben for getting him into all this. It was way out of hand.

Although he supposed he could’ve just written the note and left it… but he liked getting the flowers for her, he liked seeing her face light up in the mornings when she’d find them.

He needed a plan of his own. ___

The following morning, (y/n) had been at Richie’s door at 6:15 sharp, giving them just enough time to walk to school… and then some because she figured Richie wouldn’t be out of bed and ready to go as he thought he would be.

And he wasn’t.

He was a slow morning person too. Even just changing took him way too long. But eventually he dragged himself out of the house, his backpack barely hanging on one of his shoulders as the pair walked to school together.

“Whatcha starin’ for?” He mumbles out, before yawning.

He didn’t have to get up this early before now. (y/n) really was dedicated to this mystery.

She’d been trying not to laugh as she looked at him. His hair disheveled, he’d probably haphazardly combed through it, the curls poking every which way. He’d hardly been able to put on sweats and a tee shirt, with a jacket loosely thrown over it to keep warm. It appeared he’d started to zip it up but gave up before he even reached halfway and left the house.

Even his glasses sat crooked on his face.

“You, you dork,” (y/n) laughs, and grabs his arm to stop him for a moment. “Do you look at yourself before you leave the house?” She asks as she zips his jacket up for him, and then adjusts his glasses to fit properly over his nose.

“Sorry we don’t all wake up hours early to pick out an outfit and do our makeup” He teases back, before playfully swatting her hands off him.

(y/n) rolls her eyes.

“I picked out my clothes the night before, dummy,” She tells him, matter of factly. “And I don’t wear makeup”

Richie’s brows furrow, and his nose scrunches up.

“Really?”

“Yes, really,” She laughs back at him. “Now wake up more! This morning is important”

“Right right, I’ll work on that”

But you see, Richie hadn’t had a proper night’s sleep in four days now. He’d be up all night thinking about (y/n), and then get up early to enact his plan of the day for her locker. He couldn't have gotten more than six hours the past few nights.

So by the time they got to the school, he was already done for the day, and it wasn’t even 6:30 in the morning yet.

He followed sluggishly next to (y/n), who had never been more wide awake and perky in her whole life. And once they reached the girl’s bathroom, he nearly collapsed onto the tiled floor.

It was a good thing that the entrance to the bathroom itself didn’t have doors- a choice made by the principal, who thought that it would help them detect if anyone were smoking in the stalls.

(The students had long ago figured out how to crack the windows so they could just smoke out of there, but in this case, (y/n) was glad that there was an opening to the hall to spy through)

The pair sat just inside of the bathroom, across from each other. (y/n) was leaning against the space next to the entrance, where she could easily peek her head around the corner and see her flower covered locker. Richie sat against the brick panel just across from her, which acted as a barrier to see the bathroom from the outside.

It was just then that (y/n) realized how ridiculous her school’s plan to combat underage smoking really was. Especially as Richie pulled out a cigarette and lit it right then.

“Richie!” She scolded in a hiss, but he shrugged innocently.

“There’s no one else here” Was his answer, and she didn’t argue it any further.

She didn’t care much, she was far too excited about the events this morning was going to unfold. Richie, however, slumped further against the wall, about to fall asleep with his cigarette still in his mouth.

“Oh, I brought snacks,” (y/n) told him, pulling her backpack around, and opening it up to dig for what she packed. “I knew you wouldn’t eat before we left. And in every cop movie, they eat during the stakeout”

He thinks that his heart might explode, because never before had he heard the simplest of things sound so cute.

As she pulls out two jumbo oatmeal cream pies, which are the perfect substitute for breakfast, his eyes catch a small plastic bag inside her backpack.

“You kept all those?” He asks, recognizing the flowers sealed inside.

“Oh, yeah,” (y/n) answers, adjusting the small bag so the flowers wouldn’t get crushed. “I thought they were pretty” She told him, before shrugging a shoulder.

Richie watches her while she’s focused on these flowers, these weeds that he’d gotten for her. There was a small smile on her face as she examined them, even though they were dying, and there was a pile of petals at the bottom of the bag. But still she’d kept them.

“What are you gonna do when you find him, anyway?” Richie asked, and right away she put the flowers away and zipped up her backpack.

“I guess get to know him,” She answers, but she sounds unsure.

They simultaneously open their plastic wrapped breakfast cakes.

“Go on dates, I have to give him a chance, don’t I?”

“You say that like you don’t want to” Richie chuckles, eating in between puffs of a cigarette.

“I do,” She tells him, but it’s faint. “I do, it’s just… I don’t know what to expect,”

Richie only hums, because he doesn’t know what to say to her. There’s nothing he could say, or so he thinks.

“Can I be honest?”

“I’m sittin’ here either way, toots” He teases back.

“A part of me doesn’t really want to know” She admits, and takes a rather large bite of her breakfast snack.

“What? Why?” Richie asks.

“Um, well,” She sighs through a mouthful of food. “I’m nervous”

You have no idea the amount of anxiety I’ve been through this week, Richie thinks, but he nods his head in understanding.

“You don’t think it’s gonna be who you want it to?” He asks, and she chuckles humorlessly.

“I know it’s not who I want it to be,” She says, which only confuses him more. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to give whoever it is a chance, it’s only fair, he’s done nothing but- but shower me in all these flowers and this declaration of love, you know?”

Richie nods, but it’s a very small movement.

He’s forgotten both his breakfast and his smoke in his hands as he stares at her, hanging onto every word she spoke.

“Yeah, I know” He agrees quietly.

(y/n’s) quiet as she continues to eat, the gears in her head turning almost as fast as her heart is beating. Richie can almost see her processing through every boy in school, and wondering if any of them could be the one.

He wondered if he crossed her mind when she went through this mental list.

“Hey,” Richie whispered, and kicked at her foot. “Someone’s coming down the hall”

Her expression changed in a split second, and she wiggled with excitement, before peeking out the doorway to see who was coming.

Richie felt his gut churning, he thought it might just be mush by the time this was over.

Her anticipation grew and grew as the footsteps got closer, and just when the person rounded the corner, all that came to mind was oh?

Bill Denbrough walked right up to her locker, slipped a piece of paper in the vents, did a scan to make sure no one was around, and then walked away.

And that was it.

She physically deflated in front of him, and he could see the disappointment coming off her in waves.

There was a furrow in her brows, and her grin fell to a slight frown. Even her eyes had a sadness and a confusion to them that Richie’s never seen before.

“Bill?” She mumbled, mostly to herself. “Bill Denbrough?”

Richie didn’t say anything, the guilt he was feeling eating at him from the inside.

(y/n’s) eyes meet his, but still, he’s silent. She takes his contorted expression as confusion and she shakes her head a bit.

“I don’t- I don’t understand,” She continues to mumbles, slowly taking bites out of her oatmeal cream pie. “Bill? Bill’s my friend”

“Well- do you- do you want to go talk to him?” Richie asks, but it does nothing to ease her perplexed state.

“Um…”

It’s all she says.

She peeks around the doorway again, watching Bill as he walks down the hall, probably towards his first class. The buses would arrive in a few minutes, and classes would start not too long after.

“(y/n)?” Richie asks, starting to feel even worse. “Are you alright?”

“I- yeah” She stammers back, which proves she’s lying through her teeth.

“Are you sure?” Richie asks, and the look she gives him pretty much assures him that he’s going straight to hell when he dies.

She just looks so disappointed, lost and confused, and Richie didn’t think that unless Bowers himself had been at her locker, then she wouldn’t have been let down.

Clearly, this was worse.

All she does is nod her head, and toss the rest of her treat in the trash.

“(y/n)-”

“I’m gonna go to class,” She tells him, quiet, and shaky. “I- I’ll see you after school?”

She glances at him as she grabs her bag and waits at the doorway, and Richie nods his head back at her.

And then she takes off.

Richie wished that some greater force would just kill him now. ___

“I’ve got a question for you, Big Bill,”

Beverly sits down at the lunch table, and just from the look on her face, the boys are already nervous about how this conversation is going to end.

The redhead crosses her legs before leaning over the lunch table, staring at Bill almost threateningly.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Wh-what?” The boy stuttered back helplessly.

“(y/n) told me today that her little secret admirer… was you,” She said, eyes narrowing. “But… that doesn’t make any sense”

Bill cast a quick glance to Richie, but he kept his eyes trained on his food, which he was only poking at.

“W-well, I-”

“Because,” Beverly continued to explain herself, “I know that you don’t like her, not like that, not in the way her little note says”

“B-Bev I-”

“So,” The redhead cuts him off again, “Either you thought this was a funny joke, and I’ll kick your ass. Or, someone put you up to it”

The others at the table are on the edge of their seats, eager to see what happens next.

Besides Richie, who is still moping.

Ben, however, was probably the most excited one to see where this went. Seeing as he knew that Richie was the true writer of the notes, and he’d been the one to pick the flowers. And he realized that Richie must have asked Bill to do his dirty work, to throw off (y/n). But Richie could not have anticipated this chain reaction.

(y/n) herself didn't even come to the cafeteria for lunch today. She’d made plans with a teacher for an extra credit assignment just to get out of seeing Bill. She’d told Bev about this morning, and then went on to try and find a way out of every class she had with Bill. Not because she was upset with him- she could never, Bill was one of her best friends- but because she didn’t want to make it more awkward than it already was.

“I- I wasn’t tr-trying to hurt h-her,” Bill said. “I w-was just-”

“Then who is it?” Beverly asked. “Someone must have told you to do it, who?”

Richie hated that she was too smart for her own good.

“I- I can’t t-tell you,” Bill huffed. “I-I p-promised”

“Uh-huh, look, (y/n’s) my best friend, and you’re gonna have to tell me, so spit it out”

“I p-promised”

“I don’t give a shit, just spill-”

“It was me”

It only took three words for the attention of the whole table to focus on Richie. And usually when he opened his mouth, the others had a knack for completely shutting him out.

If he thought Beverly was upset before, oh boy, this was an unfiltered rage she’d just tapped into.

“What?” Her voice was low, and pissed.

“Yeah” RIchie shrugged.

“You did what?” Stan shrieked, but Richie ignored him, still staring straight at Beverly.

“Where the hell do you get off? Do you think this shit’s funny-?”

“It wasn’t a joke,” Richie said, calmly, and the red in Bev’s cheeks started to fade out. “It was real, I wrote that note for real, and I wanted to give her all the flowers and stuff”

Beverly blinked, completely baffled.

“You did what?” Stan repeated.

Richie just shrugged his shoulders, and went back to eating his lunch.

“You- but you-” Beverly shook her head, completely thrown off. “You?” Was her final question, and it wasn’t much, but it was all that she could articulate.

“Yeah. Me,” Richie responded. “You gonna go tell her now?”

Beverly shook her head, surprising him.

“Really?” He asked. “Two minutes ago you were gonna kill Bill-”

“You have to be the one to do it,” Bev told him.

Richie snorted.

“Right” He said sarcastically.

“No way” Stan interjected, but he was still being ignored.

“No, really,” Bev continued. “Right now she thinks that her friend is into her-”

“I’m her friend too” Richie said with furrowed brows.

Beverly nodded her head from side to side.

“Eh, yeah, but…” She trailed off, because she couldn’t tell Richie that she knew (y/n) liked him. “I feel like her knowing the truth is more important right now”

“Yeah, because I want to ruin the barely-friendship we have now” Richie rolls his eyes.

“Come on-”

“I’m not telling her” He deadpanned, before Beverly could try to convince him.

“Yeah, he’s not telling her” Stan chimed in, mouth full of pot pie.

“Not because of you, dingbat,” He muttered with a dirty look towards his friend. “Because I like her, and I’d like to be friends with her”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Beverly said, finally opening up her lunch bag. “I guarantee it’d be worth it if you just gave in”

Richie shook his head, and didn’t bother to argue with her anymore. He doesn’t want to have to argue something so stupid, especially when this was something unchangeable.

He was in love with a girl he knew he didn’t deserve to have, and so he’d just have to live with it. ___

As he was waiting by her locker at the end of the day, Richie wondered if he’d be able to live with this, knowing that he’s maybe ruined her whole world- or at least just her friendship with Bill.

When she finally makes her way to her locker, she seems better than this morning, and offers him a kind smile as she reaches him.

Richie grins back at her, completely out of relief.

And then he hugs her. She’s about to turn to put in her combination, and the action takes her by surprise, but she pats his back sweetly before he lets go.

“I’m really sorry about this morning,” He told her, and she tilts her head to the side a bit. “I wasn’t- I was just tired and didn’t know how to act, I’m so sorr-”

“Richie, don’t be sorry,” (y/n) cuts off his babbling. “It’s not your fault, you didn’t do anything wrong”

She gives him a genuine look, a kind look, convincing him that there was no need for his guilt, and still, he felt like a piece of shit.

“Well, Bill, I mean, you guys are friends, and-”

“It’s no big deal Richie, I overreacted,” (y/n) shook her head, before putting in her combination to collect her things. “I just wasn’t expecting him is all”

“Wh-who were you expecting?” Richie stammered out, and then cringed.

“I don’t know,” (y/n) hummed. “Just… not him”

She puts her books away, and gathers what she’d need to do her homework tonight, before shutting her locker and looking up at him readily.

She notices the crease between his brows, and he seems very zoned out, because he’s just standing there, instead of heading out.

“Rich?” She asks, holding onto the straps of her backpack. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah, sorry, yeah” He nodded, and moved out of his stiff position to walk by her side down the hall.

She kicks his foot gently, not to trip him, just to tease.

“Stop with the apologizing,” She says with a small giggle. “Hey, do you want to get slushies again?”

He looks down at her, but doesn’t really answer, just stares at her.

Her hair is in a messy bun resting at the back of her head, and more strands have fallen out than are still being held in the hair tie, but somehow it’s still perfect. It’s a very (y/n) look.

She kicks at his foot again.

“Yeah, sure, sounds good” He finally snaps himself out of his daze.

“You okay upstairs?” She asks him playfully.

“Are you asking me if I’m crazy?” Richie asks, just as they make their way out of the school, and down the front steps.

“No, never,” (y/n) laughs again. “You just seem out of it..?” She speaks like it’s a suggestion, as though she’s asking him.

“You’re right, and I completely blame you for waking me up so early”

“Blame me?” (y/n) repeats.

“Yes! You were the one that made me wake up at the crack-of-fucking-dawn!” Richie retorts, whilst giggling because he can’t help it when he’s joking with her.

Somehow when he’s cracking jokes with the others, he always laughs loudly, his friends find it annoying. But with (y/n), his boisterous laughs faded into childlike giggles.

“Well excuse me for being a romantic,” She said, playfully narrowing her eyes at him. “I thought you would understand”

Richie’s brows crinkle, and he looks down at her with an amused smile.

“Me? You thought I’d understand?”

“Yes!” She answered enthusiastically.

“And what in the fuck makes you think I’m a romantic?” Richie asked with a snort, but he was starting to blush.

“Obviously because you bothered to come with me this morning,” (y/n) answered, a bright smile on her face. “If you weren’t a romantic, then you wouldn’t have come”

“That doesn’t-”

“Awe Richie, you can admit it,”

He thinks his heart stopped in his chest, and he’s about to die.

“You wanted me to find loooove” She sing-songs the word, and it made him roll his eyes.

“Oh toots, you think far too highly of me” He tells her in his poor british accent.

“No, I don’t think so,” (y/n) shakes her head. “I just think you don’t want to admit it. You just wanna be the cool guy”

“So you think I’m romantic and cool?” He asks, and now she’s the one to roll her eyes, but it’s an affectionate action, and accompanied by a bright smile.

“Don’t be so full of yourself” She says, before sticking her tongue out at him.

“I’m just repeating your words toots,” He responds. “You flatter me”

She laughs, despite herself, and he beams back at her.

“Yeah, well, you’re also a dummy” She murmurs, but it doesn’t hinder Richie’s good mood.

He already knew that. He just sure loved hearing those other things from her.

Once at the 7-Eleven, (y/n) made her same cherry and blueberry slushie, and then raced to the counter to pay for both of their drinks while Richie was too busy with making his terrible drink.

Just as he turned to head up to the register, he found her standing there, a smirk on her face while she sipped on her drink.

“You didn’t” He groaned, but she lifted a shoulder and gave him a knowing look.

“I did” She replied with a grin, and nodded her head for him to follow her outside.

“You’re the worst” He mutters as he sits next to her.

She hums, holding her slushie between her hands and giving him a shit eating grin.

“That’s fair,” She responds, poking his arm teasingly. “And you should know that you’re also the worst”

“That’s fair,” He mimics, and taps his cup against hers.

They drink in silence for a bit, besides a few jokes from Richie here and there that he can’t help. But eventually she just has to get it off her chest.

“So, did you know?” She asks him, nervously looking over to him. “About Bill? Did he ever… say anything?”

Richie knows then that the mistake he’s made is catastrophic.

“Um, no, he didn’t” He said, which isn’t technically a lie.

But then again, if you have to argue that it’s not a lie… it definitely isn’t the right thing to say.

“Oh” She mumbles, and moves her straw around in her cup, mixing the red and blue flavors.

“He’s probably just shy,” Richie blurts out. “You know, otherwise he would’ve just handed you all that stuff”

“I suppose,” She agrees in a mumble. “It’s just odd, you know, since you’re his best friend”

“I mean, best friends don’t always share everything”

“That’s not true, there’s nothing I wouldn’t tell Bev,” (y/n) tells him sincerely. “And even when I have hid things, she’s always figured it out anyways. She’s always had a way of reading me,” She giggles softly as she reminisces on how good of a friend she has. “Don’t you tell him everything?”

“Well- kind of,” Richie’s still stammering, as a result of him bending over backwards to keep his secret. “I know that, um, well he’d do anything for me,” He says. “And I’d do the same for him too”

“That’s what best friends are, aren’t they?” (y/n) asks, looking back at him again. “Someone you can trust and put before anyone else in the world? Someone worth fighting for?”

“You’re cheesy,” Richie says with a nervous laugh.

He has to stop himself from tugging at his collar, because fuck, he felt like he might just overheat.

“But that’s a good thing!” He adds impulsively.

(y/n) smiles.

“Mostly I think they’re secret keepers” She hums.

“I can’t imagine you have that many secrets” Richie replies, and again, she smiles at him.

“You’d be surprised,” She says, so softly he thinks she’s trying to tell him one, but he doesn’t understand it. “But no, there’s not many”

“Tell me one” He says before he could think of something more suave.

She glances over at him,and one of her eyebrows quirks up in surprise.

“And what makes you think you’re so deserving of one of my secrets?”

“I just dare you to” Richie says, and a smirk tugs on his lips because he’s a piece of shit like that, but it makes (y/n) laugh.

“Well, if you dare me to, I suppose I’m obligated then, hm?”

“You absolutely are toots,” He says. “So, are you a man or mouse?”

“I’m but a humble girl,” She says in her best horrible british accent, leaning over to him dramatically.

She can’t contain her laughter, which makes it all the more adorable to him, and he gazes at her fondly while her hands pat against his arm softly.

“But if my deepest darkest secrets are the entertainment you seek, then that is the entertainment you shall receive” She continues in her accent.

Richie rubs his hands together in a maniacal fashion, and he scoots closer to her with anticipation.

A part of her is screaming to tell him how she feels, that’s probably her greatest secret after all. But she looks at him and reminds herself just why she can’t.

It was too hard just to become friends, to get past the barrier that had been (and still is) Eddie and Stan’s disapproval, so a friendship is just what she’d have to accept right now.

“Well, this isn’t exactly a secret,” She sighs, “But I guess you don’t know, it’s kind of a secret from you”

Richie’s brows furrow, but his lips turn into a smile as her hands wring together nervously.

“And what could you possibly have to hide from me, toots?” He asks, his smile still stuck on his face.

Her fingers are still fiddling as she meets his eyes, and she licks her lips before taking in a deep breath.

“Well, so, um, so you know how Stan and Eddie are always being… well, I think they’re overprotective for some odd reason, but they used to always drag me away? Whenever I was around you?”

“Yeah?” Richie asked, wondering where the hell she could be going with this.

“Yeah, well…”

“Well what?” Richie asked, dying to know. “You realized they had good reasons?”

“What? No!” (y/n) swatted at his arm. “Of course not, just the opposite, actually”

“The opposite?”

“Yes…” She responded in a huff. “They told me that they weren’t going to invite you to movie night one time, and I… maybe… yelled a little,”

Richie smirked, enjoying the image in his head of (y/n) chewing out Stan and Eddie.

“And… well, I told them that I wanted to be friends with you whether or not they were happy about it. And maybe they still like to cover my ears whenever you talk, and they still talk shit, but I- I don’t care,”

She realizes she’s rambling, and her hands are moving around rapidly in front of her, and suddenly she pauses to collect herself, before looking at him.

“Anyways, that’s why I asked you to walk me home from school” She finishes softly.

“Wait,” Richie shakes his head, and his brows furrow. “I thought you said that Bowers started following you?”

(y/n) gives him a sheepish smile, before shaking her head.

“Nope,” Her voice was barely a mumble. “I tricked you into being friends with me”

Richie let out a scoff, before his lips pulled into a wide grin, and he nudged his shoulder down against hers.

“You sly little devil,” He teased, and he couldn’t miss the blush spreading over her cheeks. “You deceived me?”

“Yep,” She shrugged. “That’s how desperate I was” She adds with a shy laugh.

His heart is soaring, and for a minute, he forgot about the mess he’d gotten himself into.

“Well you must have been lonely seeing as you were looking for my friendship” He teased, but she shook her head at him.

“Don’t talk like that, you’re one of my closest friends, I love hanging out with you,”

Oh fuck, this girl will be the death of me.

“I don’t regret any of it, not at all” She adds sweetly.

And goddamnit, the look on her face is so sincere, so kind, and if he weren’t such a fool, he probably would have kissed her right then and there.

“You are a romantic,” He tells her instead, and her small smile widens.

Richie reaches his hand out, offering to take her empty cup to throw away. She thanks him as she hands it to him, and watches him as he gets up and tosses it in the bin at the front doors.

When he comes back to her, he extends his hand again, but this time his silent offer is to help her stand. She takes it, without hesitation, and he pulls her to her feet.

“Ready to go?” He asks, letting go of her hand after lingering for just one extra second.

(y/n) nods, adjusting her backpack as she walks with him in the direction of home. She doesn’t ask him to walk her home, and he doesn’t offer, but they both know he is, because he always does.

They talk more, about anything they can think of, really. School, their friends, random rumors going around that can’t be true but sure are fascinating to talk about. They cover anything and everything- except for Bill, except for the notes and the flowers, and for the ten minutes it takes to get (y/n) home, Richie lives in a world where it doesn’t even exist.

It’s not until they reach her doorstep that he remembers. Not by choice- but he can’t help but be reminded of it every time her eyes meet his.

“As always Tozier,” (y/n) sighs, her hands latching onto his wrists as she smiles up at him, “Thank you for walking me home”

He smiles back at her, but it isn’t his typical shit eating grin. It’s small and soft, it’s loving.

“Every time, toots” He tells her sweetly.

There’s a small laugh that comes out of her in a breath, and she squeezes his wrists gently before letting go.

“See you tomorrow Rich” She says, and turns to her door.

He starts to go, but the further he gets the more of a weight he feels on his shoulders, to the point that he knows if he doesn’t turn around, he might collapse on her driveway.

So he does just that, he spins around, and walks back up to her.

“Wait, (y/n/n)?”

“Yeah?” She asks, blinking at him, waiting patiently for him to continue, which for some reason it’s taking him a moment to speak again.

“Do you want to walk to school together in the morning?”

Her head tilts just barely to the side at his odd and sudden request, but a smile blossoms on her lips, and she nods her head.

“Sure” She agrees delightedly.

“Okay,” He nods back at her, and some of his guilt washes away. “I’ll pick you up this time”

“Okay,” She repeats. “I’ll be waiting”

Again, he’s nodding, but it’s rapid and nervous and he can almost hear his own heart beating inside of his head.

“Okay, bye” He says, stepping back to leave this time.

But goddamn it he can’t do it, he can’t move, not a single muscle, he’s frozen there in front of her doorstep, nearly a statue, struck by anxiety and guilt and worst of all, love.

He can’t stop himself, the words tumble out before he even thinks about their consequences.

But this is what happens when it comes to (y/n), he can’t control his actions whatsoever. His heart takes the wheel and does whatever the fuck it wants, and it wants (y/n) more than anything in the whole fucking world.

(Richie agrees with this, but he thinks maybe if his heart could dial it back a little, then he wouldn’t be so scared all the time, like he is right now)

“It was me” His heart speaks for him, without warning, without a plan. It just wants to speak the words into existence.

Not just to his friends at the lunch table, that wasn’t enough. It needed (y/n’s) own ears to hear. Richie wanted (y/n) to hear.

“What?” She asks, turning around to face him.

Her question is genuine, she doesn’t understand what he’s referring to, but something about the look on his face, the one of sheer guilt from the short confession, tugged at her deep down. And deep down, she knew exactly what he was telling her.

She could translate what he truly meant just from the way his eyebrows creased, and how he was chewing at the inside of his cheek, and grinding his teeth.

“All of it, everything, it was all me” He went on.

“Richie, what do you…?” She starts to question him, but as she stares back at him, her words fail her, and she can only let out a soft breath.

“I just- I wanted you to know the truth, and I didn’t want to fuck up your friendship with Bill, I’m sorry for that”

“He… he wasn’t…?”

Still, she’s slowly going mute, as she drops her bag to the ground, and rummages through it for the most recent gift, the note that she’d seen Bill put into her locker.

“But I… but we… I saw…”

She knows she sounds idiotic, and she wished she’d been able to properly collect her thoughts and ask him complete questions, but she’s just so shocked.

She had been so certain that it couldn’t have been Richie.

Her hands are trembling as she opens the folded note, eyes scanning it swiftly.

“What’s it say?” Richie asks, and her eyes flicker up to his, before going back to the paper in her hands.

“It-” She starts, but her throat swells up and she chokes for a second. “It says- um,”

Her brows are furrowing, eyes trained on the few words scrawled across the whole sheet of paper. The writing is haphazard, but still, whoever had written it had done so perfectly, as it fit right in the center of the page. The longer she studied it, the more she realized it just had to have been Richie.

“It says I’m- I’m so-”

“I’m so fucking in love with you,”

Richie speaks up, and she looks up from the page, staring at him with her brows knit together, and her lips parted in shock. She’s taking in short little breaths, trying to calm her eager heart.

“That I don’t know what to do with myself” He finished, and promptly kicked his shoe against the ground.

She’s still staring at him, waiting for more of an explanation, or waiting for him to tell her he was kidding and then run off down the street.

It couldn’t have been more clear to her that he was being absolutely sincere.

“Yeah,” Richie huffs. “Um, it really was all me”

(y/n) blinks at him, before folding up the note again, and sliding it carefully back into her bag.

“Then what about this morning?” She whispered meekly. “And you looked at them all- talked about it with me like- like-”

“I didn’t want you to know,” Richie shrugged, and stuffed his hands into his pockets. “That was… it was the point of it being anonymous”

“Richie…” (y/n) starts, and he braces himself, staring down at the ground, silently praying it would swallow him whole right now. “I… I really thought it wasn’t you”

His head shoots up, because that’s not what he expected.

“What?”

“I- yeah- that first, um, note, I kinda thought that maybe you’d… you know, written it,” She says softly. Her hands start to wring together again. “But from the way you’d reacted to it I just thought there was no way and… it sucked”

He shakes his head in disbelief, and the action makes her crack a smile, because he looks so confused and it’s so cute and utterly Richie.

“You- you wanted it to be me?” He asks, brows deeply furrowed as he stares at her skeptically, unsurely.

She bites down on her smile as she nods her head in confirmation.

“Yeah. Yeah of course I wanted it to be you,” She whispers. “I just really didn’t think it could have been, especially when you went on that stake out and the flowers-”

“(y/n),” He cuts her off, stepping forward until there’s the smallest amount of space between them, and she has to tilt her head back to keep their eye contact. “I have to know, do you have feelings for me too?”

His glasses are sliding down his nose as he stares down at her, the look in his eyes intense as they flicker in between hers, searching for any sign at all. He needed to know if this was the single greatest mistake of his life, and he’d live the rest of his days a lonely fool-

“Richie,” She murmurs back, a slight shake in her head as her own eyes wander the features of his face, mapping out every freckle, every dip, every crease. She’s consumed by her own love for him and he didn’t even know it yet.

She doesn’t finish her thought, because she can’t help but lean in and capture his lips. It’s a tentative kiss, because it’s new and she’s never kissed someone that she’s liked this much before.

Her hands were slow as they lifted from her sides, and pressing lightly against his shoulders.

When she pulled away, it took a second for her to process what just happened. Meanwhile Richie was staring at her intensely, trying to get a read on her.

She’s starting to smile, and finally her eyes flutter open.

And all at once, he doesn’t feel like this is such a catastrophic mistake.

His fingers reach up and brush against her jaw tenderly. Her eyes are half lidded, and trained on his lips.

“Sorry,” She mumbles. “I just wanted to-”

“I get it” Richie shakes his head, cutting her off.

His hands slid up her jaw before cupping around her cheeks, and then slammed his lips down against hers. She didn’t even have time to take in a breath before their lips connected, and she stumbled back at first but when she threw her arms around his neck she caught her balance and kissed him back passionately.

She’d never felt such a clarity though, and she thought she was going to float right off the ground.

It was like she’d been waiting for this one amazing kiss for a long time now, and it was everything she’d hoped for and more.

Richie’s fingers slid into her hair, cradling the back of her head and pulling her impossibly closer to him, as close as he could get her without picking her up and clutching her body against his.

He was dying to do that though.

“I can’t believe it,” (y/n) mumbled in between kisses. “I love you too,” She added, her lips moving against his before attaching again, kissing him just a bit harder. “And I-”

“You do?” Richie pulled away, and his hands dropped back to cradle her face sweetly.

She beams at him, before nodding her head in a choppy fashion.

“Yeah,” She mumbled, smoothing her hands over his shoulders, before gliding down his arms. “I do”

His grin matches her own, and it's hard to bite it back so that he can kiss her again. ___

It was two weeks later when (y/n) found herself placing flowers in Richie’s curls while he was passed out.

The Loser’s Club had gone to the quarry, planning to spend the whole Saturday there. And it was the first group thing that Richie and (y/n) were officially a couple at, but they also hadn’t all hung out properly in about a month, so it was a big deal.

Mike, Stan, and Bev brought all the food and snacks they could find that would keep in coolers.

Eddie and Bill brought drinks, sodas, waters, Eddie provided juice boxes that everyone made fun of but still drank anyways.

Ben brought a bunch of blankets for everyone to sprawl out on.

That left Richie and (y/n) in charge of the alcohol for the night, which pretty much meant Richie stealing as much as he could while (y/n) kept a lookout. They had a system of bringing a bag full of empty bottles into a store, and sneaking liquor into the bathroom to transfer it into the bottles.

It was a skill they perfected on their first try. Maybe it wasn’t moral, or legal, but they were seventeen, and stealing from their parents just wouldn’t get them enough alcohol for all eight of them.

They’d spent the whole day doing whatever they wanted. Which was mostly swimming and drinking at the same time, despite Stan letting everyone know he would not help them if they drowned. But now that the sun was starting to set and everyone was dwindling down, their party turned more into a calm night.

Maybe too calm, because Richie had passed out on one of the blankets.

But he had drunk quite a lot quite fast, spent twenty minutes picking every single flower and weed-that-looked-like-a-flower in the area, proclaimed them to be beautiful but never as beautiful as his girlfriend, and then pretty much dropped dead.

(y/n) was currently using the plants he’d picked now to lay them in his hair while he slept. She laid on her stomach by his side, admiring how pretty he was as she did so.

“Are you making me a flower crown?”

Her eyes flickered down to his, not having expected him to say anything.

“I thought you were asleep?” She hummed.

“I was, but then the strangest thing happened,” Richie said, squinting up at her. “I felt this- this presence, like an angelic, godly presence. And next thing I know, there you are”

“Shut up,” (y/n) giggled, poking his cheek before rifling through her pile of flowers again. “You’re such a nerd”

“I thought you liked that” He teased.

“Of course I do,” She murmured back. “I just also think you should be reminded”

It was quiet for a moment while she focused on threading the stem of a dandelion perfectly through one of his curls. After she’d made it as structurally sound as she could, she grinned, and gave him her attention again.

“And it’s not a flower crown,” She told him as she rolled onto her back, staying right next to him. “But there are, like, a shit ton of flowers in your hair. I had to do something with all the ones you picked for me”

He could hear Stan and Eddie making fun of him, while they sat not too far away taking turns drinking juice boxes and taking shots. But it didn’t matter. They would always tease him and (y/n), it was normal, and he came to terms with that the very day that (y/n) told him she loved him too, and they started going out.

It simply didn’t matter anymore. Nothing they could say could matter.

“You want a juice box?” (y/n) asked, poking his cheek again because he had clearly zoned out. “You drank a lot and then kinda just took a nap, you need something else in your system”

He smiles at her and nods.

“Sure” He answers, and starts to get up but (y/n) gently pushes him back down.

“Don’t move, you’ll mess up your flowers” She tells him, and then gets up to get them juice boxes.

Richie’s pretty certain he’s died and somehow was lucky enough to go to heaven. He didn’t know how he pulled it off, but that made more sense than his reality.

I’m (y/n’s) boyfriend, he thinks, and then he repeats it to himself again and again.

She collapsed next to him again not a minute later, before handing him one of the juice boxes.

“Eddie’s kinda hoarding them,” She mutters, settling her head against his upper arm, which he wrapped around her to pull her closer. “But he also accidentally got drunk, again, so I just took them when he wasn’t looking”

Richie chuckles, sipping away on the cheap drink, still lost in his own hazy thoughts.

(y/n) looks up at him, noticing his quiet state, and sets her box down.

“What’re you thinkin’ about?” She asked softly, gazing into his eyes lovingly.

“Take a wild fuckin’ guess sweetheart,” Richie chuckled, and (y/n) rolled her eyes affectionately. “I know, I’m a nerd”

She nods her head, and once again, pokes his cheek. But her fingertip glides over his cheekbone and then along his jaw, tracing over his skin delicately.

“Yeah, but I love you for it”

His lips turn up into a cheesy grin, and he gives her a quick kiss that makes her cheeks flush pink.

He’s had two (amazing) weeks of watching her blush like that every time he kisses her, and it’s his new favorite thing.

“Richie,” She hums. “I’m so fucking in love with you that I don’t know what to do with myself-”

“Ha ha,” Richie can’t help but roll his eyes while (y/n) giggles, thinking she’s so funny for repeating his own words back to him. “You’re gonna do that all the time now aren’t you?”

“Oh yeah,” She nods her head seriously. “All the time. Probably every day, hell, I’ll start calling you before I go to bed to remind you”

He finishes his juice box so that he can wrap both arms around her.

“I’d be okay with that”

“Good” She mumbles back happily.

“But you know that makes you a nerd too” He tells her.

She tilts her head back to look at him, before kissing him fully, her lips lingering against his for a second after she pulls away.

“That must be why we’re so perfect together” She says with a cheeky smile.

“Yeah yeah, you cheeseball,” Richie teases, and tugs her against him.

They lay and enjoy each other’s company, and the atmosphere of their friends.

Ben’s telling Beverly about how he helped Richie write his first note, and Mike and Bill are drunk wrestling horribly in the grass. It’s an odd mix of things to listen to while one is trying to enjoy the sunset with their significant other, but something about it still felt right.

Richie breaks the silence just as (y/n) is considering napping with him.

“You’re right”

___

taglist: @lemonypink @darling-egg @fiantomartell

a/n: this was um really fun to write even tho it took me a month lmao

#richie tozier #richie tozier x reader #richie tozier scenario #richie tozier imagine #richie tozier fanfiction #finn wolfhard #finn wolfhard x reader

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earlysunsetsoverambrose · 4 years

Text

Kodachrome (5/5)

Sinclairs x f!Reader

Warning: Cursing

It was coming up on six o’clock in Ambrose. You and Lester made it back about half an hour ago and settled in to wait for Bo and Vincent to return. They arrived around fifteen minutes after you.

Bo was now smoking out of a cracked window, insisting it was too hot to stand outside but knowing you didn’t like the smell lingering in the house. He was still in his long-sleeved uniform. You knew better than to tell him to change or roll up his sleeves at least, but you wanted him to be comfortable. There was no way he wasn’t dying from the way he was sweating through it. It was better to let him make that call on his own, however; and to not utter a single word about it in the rare case he actually did decide to change.

Vincent was sitting up on the couch sketching with Jonesy taking up the other half. He ditched his sweater, wearing an old tank instead. He also had his hair pulled up from his neck in a loose ponytail, but still wore his mask.

Lester – who had all but tossed his hat and over shirt across the room upon returning home – was helping you in the kitchen, distributing the sweet tea and lemonade. He took Vincent a glass of lemonade before settling himself on the floor with his own glass of sweet tea. You followed close behind with Bo’s sweet tea and a lemonade for yourself.

“It’s not a beer, but it’s still good.” You said as you approached Bo. He stubbed out his cigarette and took the glass from you.

“I suppose it’ll do.” Bo said, feigning a sigh of disappointment. He took a few sips and glanced at the glass and back to you, “Damn, if that isn’t good.”

“Glad you approve.” You said as you took a drink of your lemonade.

“So, you take any good pictures after I kicked you to the curb?” Bo asked

“In fact, I did. No thanks to you.” You said cheekily, glancing at your camera and photographs that you had set on the pool table “I’m going to fill an album with my cheesy, crappy pictures and you know what I’m going to do after that?”

“I gotta know.” Bo deadpanned

“I’m going to fill another.” You said eagerly “And another and so on, so forth.”

“If that’s what gets you outta bed in the mornin’.” Bo said with a shrug. Before you could fire back, a rumble from outside interrupted you. You and Bo looked outside to see storm clouds suddenly rolling in above your little town, “God damn it.”

“What? It’s just a little rain.” You said with excitement, “Might even cool things down a little.”

“I just repainted the fence in front of the apartments. I’m gonna have to fuckin’ do it all again.” Bo huffed

“Don’t worry about it right now, Bo. I’ll help you redo it, if you want.” You offered, “We’re having fun, no need to get worked up.”

“Whatever.” Bo said glaring out the window, willing the clouds away. With that, the rain started falling, tapping on the roof and walls of the home.

“It’s not so bad. I love the rain!” you said trying to lift his spirits.

“What’s there to love? The humidity? The flooding? The leaks in the roof?�� Bo asked sarcastically.

“C’mon, didn’t you ever run around in the rain as a kid? Roll around in mud puddles?” You asked.

“No, ‘cuz I didn’t grow up in a pigpen.” Bo snarked, “And if I tracked mud in the house, my old man woulda killed me. He hated mess.”

You set down your glass and made your way out the door and onto the steps. All three Sinclair brothers looked after you, curious to know what you were getting up to now. You stuck your hand out into the downpour, catching the warm droplets as the nostalgia of the summer rain from your childhood struck your senses. You turned around to find the brothers gathered at the door way looking at you with confusion. The look on their faces was a harsh reminder than none them had the same childhood memories you did; they never got the chance. Well, now was as good a time as ever to change that. You dashed back into the house, the brothers parting as you darted up the stairs. You returned with the portable radio from your room. You stared back at the Bo, Vincent, and Lester.

“Okay, here’s what’s going to happen, I’m going to put on some music and we’re all going to run around in the rain like we’re little kids again, got it.” You practically ordered, “We’re going to have fun.”

“I’m in!” Lester chimed in ecstatically, “It’s gotta beat sittin’ ‘round sweatin’!”

“No fuckin’ way.” Bo refused flat out, “That really what you call fun growin’ up?”

“Yes, because it is fun.” You argued, “What about you, Vincent?” he looked down at the ground, twiddling his fingers, unconvinced. “Well, I can’t make you do anything, but I’m going outside and I’m going to have a blast.” You said determinately. You pushed past the brothers and stopped at the door, “C’mon, Jonesy!”

Jonesy leapt up from the couch and launched herself outside, ahead of you. You could always count on her and Lester. You fiddled with the dial of your radio, quickly tuning in to a classic rock station, Creedence Clearwater Revival lighting up the airwaves. You turned the radio all the way up and set it to the side on the stairs, still under cover from the rain. You quickly yanked Lester outside, both of you laughing as the rain met your skin. You tapped Lester on the shoulder,

“You’re it!” you declared, darting away with Jonesy, screaming as you put distance between you and Lester. After only a second to process, Lester ran full speed behind you, determined to catch up. You and your canine companion ran in big circles, to avoid getting tagged back. The bombardment of raindrops, smacked against your skin, running into your eyesight, “C’mon, Jonesy, keep running or he’ll catch us!”

“Got ya!” Lester lightly smacked the back of your neck before turning on a dime and speeding away from you, “Gotta be faster than that, Y/N!”

“I’ll show you fast!” you called wiping the rainy haze from your eyes as you sprinted after him with Jonesy barking her support. You nearly had him multiple times, but he always managed to abruptly alter his course, just out of your reach. You never knew Lester could be so elusive. Despite all the fun, your lungs already burned and you were already slowing down. As Lester got father away, you glanced down at Jonesy, “I don’t think I can go on! Avenge me, Jonesy!” you said dramatically as you patted her on the head, “You’re it, Jonesy, go get him! Get Lester!”

Jonesy barked in understanding, speeding up to catch Lester. You jogged after them as you witnessed Jonesy rear back on her hind legs and push Lester from behind, forcing him to the ground before attacking him with kisses.

“Good girl!” you praised as you caught up to them, catching your breath, “You got him!”

“She got me alright!” Lester laughed through the slobbery assault.

Vincent and Bo watched the game unfold from the staircase. Through it all, Vincent had made his way to the edge of the rainfall and put his hand out like you had done just moments ago.

“Just look at those two, laughin’ like idiots.” Bo said with a shake of his head as he crossed his arms. He glanced at his twin to see him eyeing the rain with curiosity, “Don’t tell me you’re gonna start too.”

Vincent looked back with a sheepish glance before turning around to see you helping Lester to his feet. He tilted his head as he watched you instruct his younger brother to copy the way you looked up at the sky and held out your arms, spinning around and around until you both fell on your butts. The sound of both of you laughing cut through the rain and the music. You were having so much fun together.

“Good God, they’ve finally lost it.” Bo quipped.

“I heard that, Bo!” you shouted, pushing away the hair that stuck to your face, “You know that could’ve been you that shoved Lester to the ground, but you missed out!”

“C’mon, Bo! Don’t ya wanna wrestle, for old times’ sake? Or are ya ‘fraid of losin’?” Lester taunted

“Fuck no.” Bo stated. You, Lester and Jonesy made your way to the staircase, still standing in the rain.

“How about you, Vincent? Change your mind?” you asked pleadingly. Vincent’s eye darted between you, the rain, and Bo. “Please, for me? Just for a little while?” Vincent glanced back at Bo who rolled his eyes,

“Hey, don’t let me stop you from makin’ a fool of yourself.” Bo said with a wave of his hand, “Be my guest.”

“Every party needs a pooper, Bo!” You teased as you drew Vincent into the rain party. Bo scoffed as he lit up another cigarette, continuing to watch from his sheltered spot.

As the rain fell over Vincent, he held his hands out to catch the drops, looking up at the storm clouds. There was something refreshing about standing in a rain like this. It wasn’t like getting caught in a storm and freezing from the cold winds behind it. It was warm and comforting, like the season of summer was wrapping him in its embrace.

“See, it’s not so bad, right?” your voice drew Vincent from his daze. He nodded in agreement,

“Never thought of rain like this.” He said softly

“Things like rain can always turn into fun if you’re with the right people.” You told him with a sweet smile.

As puddles began to form, Jonesy started zooming through them with Vincent jogging in tow, splashing you and Lester in their wake. You two were distracted trying to catch raindrops on your tongues, giggling every time you were successful. It was only a few moments later you saw Bo move to the edge of the rain and glance up at the clouds. You turned to face him,

“Come on, Bo!” you begged

“If ya’ll wanna make assholes of yourselves, that’s fine! I told you to leave me out of it!” Bo shouted back, digging his heels in and turning his back to all of you to finish his cigarette in peace. You grumbled to yourself.

“Hey, I got a way to get Bo to play along.” Lester whispered.

“This won’t end in either of you getting maimed or put him in a foul mood will it?” you asked cautiously.

“No promises, but Bo’s always in a bad mood, anyway.” Lester said with a mischievous grin, “I used to do this all the time when we was kids. Used to dander him up real quick. Watch this.”

“Wait, Lester!” you called in a hushed voice. He ignored you as he silently crept up behind his oldest brother as you prayed for his safety and Bo’s mercy. You bore horrified, silent witness as Lester drew closer to Bo, stopping just behind him. Without hesitation, Lester smacked Bo across the back of the head, lurching him forward, before hauling ass. Bo did a double take, not realizing what just happened until he registered Lester’s retreating figure. His face twisted in scowl as his face turned bright red, as he threw down his cigarette.

“You get the fuck back over here, you smelly bastard!” Bo shouted as he ran after his younger brother, “I’m gonna rip your arm off and smack you across the head, see how you like it! I swear to Christ I will!”

“I’m sorry! Don’t hurt me, Bo! I’m just a boy!” Lester called back through his fit of hysterical laughter. Threat of physical dismemberment or not, Lester was having a grand old time. They continued to yell back and forth through their game of chase.

“Wait! Bo! Lester!” you cried as you followed after them with Vincent, “Bo, don’t hurt your brother!” You were pretty sure Bo wasn’t as angry as he said he was. If he really wanted to kill Lester, he wouldn’t be shouting so much.

Bo finally caught up to Lester in the grass and tackled him into the mud. The two of them wrestled, trying to get the other in a headlock first, rolling all around a mudpuddle. You and Vincent caught up and watched from the sidelines. Part of you wanted to stop them so neither of them would get hurt, but the other part wanted to see how this played out. Bo eventually got the upper hand, shaking Lester back and forth by his shirt.

“Wait, wait! Bo! Stop, please!” Lester pleaded, “Just let me say somethin’!” Bo stopped his literal shakedown, narrowing his eyes skeptically.

“What?” he hissed angrily.

“I hope ya like pie.” Lester said with a deep breath in.

“The fuck does that mean?”

“Mud pie!” Lester screeched as he hurled a huge wad of mud directly in Bo’s face, knocking off his hat. You and Vincent’s hands flew to your mouths. Lester used the initial shock to scurry out of Bo’s grip to just a few feet in front of him. There had never been a moment more fragile, nobody dared say anything. Silence never seemed so loud before. Bo slowly moved his hands to his eyes and scooped away the mud with a violent flick of his hands. It was so funny, but you were too scared to laugh. He looked so mad that he hadn’t seen that one coming. Bo’s blue eyes peaked out from the brown of the mud as he shifted his dangerous glare on Lester again. The youngest Sinclair practically gulped with a nervous smile, “No hard feelins?”

As Bo pounced once more, you and Vincent jumped up. Vincent tried to hold Bo back while you did what you could to release his grip on Lester’s ankle. While you two struggled to keep them at bay, Lester and Bo kept flinging handfuls of mud at one another. All of you yelling over one another the whole time. Vincent quickly lost his grip on his twin from the slick mud and rain covering both of them now. Bo swiftly swiped up another handful of mud, reeling back with reckless abandon and zero aim, thus whipping you directly in the face. The force knocked you back as you sputtered through the dirt in your mouth and eyes.

All grappling ceased with gasps from all three of brothers. Vincent slowly moved toward you with his hands out, trying to see if you needed help. You caught a glimpse of their concerned faces through the muddy haze. In reality, you were biting back a smirk as you were about to get retribution. You started violently rubbing at your eyes,

“Ow, ow, my eyes! It hurts! I can’t see!” you feigned helplessness, adding a waver to your voice for effect. They were all on their feet in an instant. Vincent came up next to you and tilted your head up to the rain to try to help flush your eyes. Lester patted your shoulder to comfort you, telling you not to panic. Bo grabbed your wrists from your face,

“Shit, Y/N!” he said, frustration masking the guilt, “Stop rubbing at ‘em, you’re gonna make it worse. Let me see.”

“No! This is your fault!” you said, screwing your eyes tighter.

“Don’t be a brat, let me take a look!” Bo ordered. With that, you opened your eyes and snapped your head forward with an evil smirk. “What the h-”

Without warning, you tackled him back into the mudpuddle, startling all three brothers. With Bo stunned for the second time that evening, you scooped up all the mud you could hold and plopped it on his face.

“Suck mud, Sinclair!” you yelled with wicked laughter. Bo sat up, knocking you over,

“You little shit!” he fumed “You play dirty!”

“I play to win, old man!” you boasted. Bo got up, ready to attack again, before Lester joined the fray once more, piling more mud onto his older brother’s hair. Bo yanked Lester from behind him and hooked an arm around his neck.

“I can take both of you, bring it on!” Bo proclaimed as he dunked Lester’s head in the mud over and over. You wrapped your arms around Bo’s broad shoulders and tried to drag him back down into the mud with you, a difficult feat as he was twice your size, “The hell are you tryin’ to do? Choke me out?”

“If it’s death by mud for one, is death by mud for all!” you shouted through your struggle. Jonesy started running around the three of you, caking all of you in splashes of mud.

Vincent didn’t know whether to be amused or distraught at the spectacle before him. At least you weren’t actually hurt. Watching you all squabble while Bo struggled between keeping Lester in a headlock and all your weight pulling him backwards was sight to be seen. He could have never predicted this was how his day would end. He tilted his head and watched, knowing better than to get involved. He got hit with a few rogue mud pies, but he wasn’t too bothered about it since he was already a mess from trying to hold back Bo. It seemed he was the only adult living with three children.

Eventually the three of you wore yourself out by the time you were pretty much caked in mud from head to toe. You, Bo, and Lester ended sitting in the mud puddle, too tired to continue the scuffle. You were leaning back on your hands, Lester was laying back completely, and Bo was sitting back on his knees. The rain, now more of a light drizzle, washed a little of the mud away, but not much. You all glanced at one another, taking in your ridiculous states and couldn’t help but laugh at yourselves. You and Lester started another fit of hysterics as Bo cracked a smiled. Vincent even chuckled under his mask.

“See, now wasn’t that fun?” you asked them as you all continued to laugh. It was a successful mud fight if ever there was one.

“Yeah, loads. I love havin’ mud and dirt in my ass crack.” Bo snorted as he stood up from the puddle, searching for his hat.

“I thought it was a riot, Y/N!” Lester disagreed as he stood up as well “Can’t believe we didn’t try this sooner. Most fun I’ve had in some time.”

“Did you have fun, Vincent?” you asked

“Yes. Messy, though.” He rasped, taking in the mud that had left Jonesy’s fur completely brown. He looked back at you saying, “It was nice.”

“I wanted you all to have fun for a little while. Thought you all deserved a break.” You said as Vincent and Lester hauled you up from the mud.

“Well, personally, I’m all funned out.” Bo said sarcastically as he placed his hat back on his head “And next time you actually hurt yourself, I’m not gonna do a thing about it. Make you think twice ‘bout cryin’ wolf.”

“I was just getting even with you for smacking me in the face. But I’m sorry if I worried any of you.” You said

“Fine, I suppose we’re even, in that case. Just don’t do it again.” Bo said with a wave of his hand, unconcerned with the whole ordeal, “Now, let’s go home. I need another cigarette since someone made me drop my other one.”

“Okay, okay, let’s go back.” You agreed.

As you all made your way back to the front of the house, the trickle gave way to a light mist. The comforting smell of raindrops hanging on the cedar trees enveloped your senses; bringing with it a unique kind of serenity. The radio was still going strong. Bo leaned up against the staircase and lit another cigarette from the pack he’d thankfully left behind from the mud war. Vincent sat on the top stairs with Jonesy, starting to wipe off her paws with an old rag from the porch. Lester popped inside the house to grab his sweet tea before returning outside and descending the stairs again to make idle conversation with Bo. You were sitting in silence next to Vincent and Jonesy, taking it all in.

Your attention was pulled to the radio as a different song started up. You recognized it. It was that old Paul Simon song ‘Kodachrome.’ Far too serendipitous to be ignored. You jumped up from your seat and ran back inside for your camera, none of the boys concerned with your disappearance. You came back to stand in the doorway and pointed your camera at the brothers.

“Everyone say: Cheesy, Crappy Photos!” you chirped. They all looked up at you. Bo with a half-annoyed, half-amused glance. Lester beaming with an enthusiastic wave. Vincent content and comfortable, sitting with Jonesy pulled up in his lap. With an infamous click, your camera printed out the picture and you set it face down by the others on the pool table. You returned to sit back on the porch, camera still in hand. The Paul Simon song echoed through the summer air.

Kodachrome They give us those nice bright colors They give us the greens of summers Makes you think all the world's a sunny day, oh yeah I got a Nikon camera I love to take a photograph So mama, don't take my Kodachrome away

Well, unlike Mr. Simon, you didn’t have Kodachrome film or a Nikon camera, but you did have a Polaroid and a fire under your ass. Maybe you were romanticizing this whole thing too much, maybe these photographs wouldn’t mean a thing, but you didn’t care. Moments like these deserved to be remembered in color, for all they’re worth. Bo, Vincent, and Lester deserve to have good days that they want look back on. If there was a chance just one photo could give that to them, you had to try.

So, if a picture is worth a thousand words, there were a billion things you were going to tell them.

#house of wax 2005 #bo sinclair #house of wax #slasher imagine #my writing #lester sinclair #tw: cursing #slasher x reader #bo sinclair x reader #lester sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair #kodachrome #female reader

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