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sinsirellaxx · 2 months

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Forgotten hero, friend and love

Sebastian Sallow x Reader

Requested on AO3: Hey :😀 i habe two requests if you dont mind!

(I suck at writing plus english is not my first language)

Both are Sebastian x F!Reader with HE

First one is with a healed Anne (Solomons death ever happened) and Sebastian (and Ominis, slightly) is too focused on Anne that he kind of forget the friendship and his crush on Reader. Reader is hurt and distance herself from them. Ominis notice this and want all of them to be a quadruplets. Plus Ominis is the best wingman for the two morons 😆

A/N: This is kinda sad at the beginning. 🥲

She was happy – she truly was. It had been their mission ever since they met each other after all … but she had not expected to feel this empty, this used after succeeding. After successfully helping her best friend and first love save his twin sister. Anne was lovely – she truly was, don’t get Y/N wrong. She was elated that she could finally come back to school and join her twin and their best friend in tackling all kinds of Hogwarts related stuff. She vividly remembered the way Sebastian’s eyes had lit up before he was overcome by his emotions, running to hug his twin before lifting her up to twirl her. Y/N remembered the way their uncle had tried to hide his tearful face as he apologized for not believing Sebastian.

After this and the threat of Ranrok finally being gone – the girl had expected everything to be better, now that Sebastian’s mood had obviously improved by a million and herself did not have to worry about saving the school anymore.

They were four instead of three people now at school – and she definitely did not expect to feel this lonely. The teenage girl felt like she had been replaced – although she obviously had been a replacement for Anne … and now that she was back, there was no space for her. At least that’s how she felt as she stared at the entrance to the undercroft – her eyes blinking away the tears that were fighting their way up, trying to prove that she was more hurt by the changes than she refused to accept.

Sebastian had stood her up.

Again.

As the first tear successfully rolled down the corner of her eye, her bottom lip started wobbling.

As the first sob made its way up her throat, she slid down the wall, hugging her legs to her chest as she hid her face from the world.

As the first hour passed, she gave up completely and sat in the dark in silence.

The next day she glared at the mirror, visibly offended by the treacherous way her eyes had swollen up slightly over the night. There was a brief moment of panic as she thought about an excuse, about what she was going to tell her friends – but she highly doubted they’d notice, so her shoulders relaxed as she got ready for the day.

And just as expected: the trio hadn’t noticed – not that Ominis could even if he wanted to. Even though she knew that Sebastian forgot, there was still a slight sliver of hope that he would apologize for standing her up for the fifth time in three weeks – he didn’t. She knew he wouldn’t, but her heart still broke into a million pieces, leaving a trail behind as she followed the trio to the Great Hall.

Her eyes lifted briefly as she stared at their backs, her eyes stopping at Ominis – he had always been so sensitive to other people’s feelings. But now, even he did not notice – or care to notice that Y/N was drifting away. Y/N understood, he had known Anne for so long and the Sallows were like family to him. She could never be that.

As they sat down to eat, Y/N didn’t bother lifting her head to look at her friends, knowing that they were invested in talking to Anne about everything that she had missed and everything that they’d do together. She pushed her food from one side to the other on her plate until she let the fork slip from her fingers and onto the table with a small clinking sound. Heaving a sigh, she pushed herself up and away from the table as she clumsily climbed over the bench, sluggishly walking away and out of the Great Hall. There was no one calling after her as she left.

Sat in Divination she was glad she wouldn’t have to see any of the trio. Leaning back in her seat she stared at the cup in front of her.

“Y/N, is everything alright?” At the soft voice of her dear friend Natsai she looked up and was met by warm yet worried eyes.

“Huh?”

“Are you alright?” She softly repeated her question, her left hand reaching out to softly hold one of her’s. “You look like you have been crying.”

At the last question, Y/N had to bite her tongue to prevent herself from bursting into tears right in front of everyone. The only thing she could manage as a reply was a short nod and blinking eyes. Natsai did not look convinced, yet she did not want to pressure her best friend into answering if she did not feel comfortable in doing so. She gave the sad girl another – hopefully – reassuring squeeze before letting her hand go.

At dinner, before she could move to her table, Garreth Weasley stood in front of her, with a wide smile on his face.

“Want to sit with us? We haven’t really talked in a while – and I kinda missed it.” He asked as he sheepishly scratched the back of his neck. The word ‘you’ left unspoken, as it was what he really wanted to say.

“Only if you want to, that is!” He quickly added as he saw the hesitation on Y/N’s face.

With a small smile the girl nodded as she let herself be pulled to the Gryffindor table, her wrist warm from the way he had wrapped his big hand around her small wrist.

As she sat down next to a smiling Natsai she briefly forgot about her heartbreak. It felt nice to be a part of a group again, she thought as she laughed at a joke Garreth told.

Days had passed and Y/N hadn’t sat at the Slytherin table ever since the day she had been asked to join her Gryffindor friends. Ominis had been the first one to notice her absence and he immediately felt guilt settle in his stomach at the realization of having completely neglected their dear friend. He walked up to Sebastian’s bed before going to sleep and asked him if he had talked to Y/N in the last few days.

Sebastian frowned as he sat up in his bed. “Not really … honestly. I think I haven’t really talked to her in weeks.” His eyes suddenly widened. “Merlin, I haven’t even been to the f*cking study-dates that we had agreed upon!” He shrieked as he jumped up from his bed.

“We have been completely shutting her out of the group, you realize that right?” Ominis spoke calmly with a raised brow.

Sebastian groaned as he paced their dorm, his hands in his hair as he thought of all the times, he had stood her up without her even saying anything. He remembers the first two times he had forgotten – she had lightly scolded him for having her wait the whole night before she had finally given up. Sebastian had told Y/N then, that he would make it up to her only to forget about it again.

And after that Y/N had not said anything anymore. Sebastian felt like throwing up – how could he neglect the one person he actually fell in love with – the one person, who helped him save his sister without really knowing him or her. She had done everything, faced so many obstacles and dangerous situations just to help him.

“Yeah, you f*cked up big time, Sebastian. But not just you … I wasn’t exactly a good friend either.” Ominis mumbled as he hung his head.

“B-But, where has she been the last few days? She hasn’t been sitting with us at all – right?” The brunette questioned as he let himself fall on his bed.

“She’s been spending more time with Garreth.” Ominis knew that Y/N had been spending more time with all her other friends but he chose to only mention his name, because he knew that mentioning Garreth’s name would ring all the alarm bells in his stupid friend’s head.

“What? With Garreth?!” Sebastian sputtered, the nausea returning tenfold at the mention of his name. He was aware of the crush the ginger-haired boy had on Y/N. “I need to see her.” He jumped up, angrily marching towards the door only to be stopped by Ominis’ firm hand on his shoulder.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Ominis asked, his voice not hiding his annoyance.

“I’m going to Y/N’s dorm.”

“And then?”

“I-I don’t know. I’ll talk to her. Why would she spend so much time with that Weasley?!”

Something snapped in Ominis as he hit the back of his friend’s head. “Are you for real, Sebastian? That’s the only thing you’re worried about right now?” The blonde scoffed. “You’ve been basically ignoring Y/N for the past few weeks, after everything she has done for you – for us – and you are just worried about her being close with Garreth Weasley?” He cocked his brow in disbelief at the male twin’s audacity.

“What are you going to say if you walk to her right now? Aree you going to say: ‘Hey, Y/N. I know I’ve been ignoring you for the past few weeks but – why are you talking to Garreth?’? Don’t be ridiculous, Sebastian.”

“You’re right.” The brunette mumbled as the initial anger melted away. He let himself fall on his bed face first, his voice muffled as he spoke. “What am I going to do?”

“Beg for forgiveness – I don’t know.” Ominis shrugged his shoulders as he thought of a way to save their friendship and Sebastian’s possible future relationship. “You’ll have to think of something.”

Y/N waved her friends goodbye as she walked towards her dorm. It was finally Friday, which meant she – and almost everyone else – could sleep in. The closer she got to the Slytherin common room, the tenser she grew – she hoped she wouldn’t see any of her Slytherin friends.

The common room was weirdly empty – just a few lone students reading or playing card games together. Her shoulders relaxed as she walked up the stairs to her dorm room, her brows furrowing as she noticed a letter lying right in front of her door. Bending down to take the letter into her hand, she turned it around to see who it was addressed to, her eyes widening as she saw her name written clumsily onto the envelope. Turning it around she opened it and pulled out the folded paper.

Please meet me at the undercroft. I’ll be waiting.

S.S.

Y/N clenched her jaw as all kinds of emotions rushed through her, her eyes scanning over the few words again and again. She felt sadness, bitter, petty, curious but most importantly: she felt angry. Sebastian had completely forgotten about her and now he suddenly wanted to see her and asked her to come to him.

Y/N stared at the offending paper for another two minutes as she contemplated about her decision. She had been stood up several times, so why should she go because he asked one time? But if she ignored his request, she’d surely regret it, curious as she was … and a small part of her heart roared as she read his initials. Yearning to talk to him again. With a huff she folded the letter and stuffed it into her pocket before she turned to walk towards the undercroft.

Her curiosity always won.

Walking through the entrance there were many things that Y/N had expected – she had expected Sebastian to impatiently pace the room, with weird scripts in his hands that he wanted to show her. She had also expected the room to be empty with no Sebastian in sight. What she did not expect, however, were a trail of rose petals and lit candles leading up to a nicely decorated small table with snacks and drinks – and more roses.

The young girl’s mouth fell open as she took in the sight, coming to a halt as her eyes moved up to Sebastian’s figure standing behind the table with a tense smile on his face. The brunette was obviously nervous as his eyes carefully scanned over Y/N’s features.

“Hey …” Sebastian finally broke the silence – way too impatient to wait for Y/N to say something first. His nerves wouldn’t let him be patient.

“Before you say anything … I want to apologize; I am so sorry for neglecting you – the one person that has helped me through everything. You, who has saved my sister. You put so much trust in me, even though you barely knew me. You were always there for us – for me. And yet I managed to make you feel invisible. I probably made you feel like I used you too …” Sebastian paused for a second, catching his breath as he walked around the table and towards you.

“I know I don’t deserve it – I am a complete twat for all of this – but please. I’m so, so sorry. I need you – I don’t think I’ll ever not need you anymore. Please forgive me. I promise to always put you first.” Sebastian begged, tears welling up in his eyes as he stared into your equally watery eyes. “Because I love you – I know it didn’t look like it the past few weeks – but I really do. I love you. I have loved you ever since you beat my ass in our very first duel.”

At that a giggle forced its way out of Y/N’s lips, her cheeks growing hotter as the male continued.

“You are – you are just amazing. Please … please forgive me, Y/N.” Sebastian whispered as he lifted his hands to wipe the tears that had found their way down her flushed cheeks, before moving to cup them lovingly.

“Sebastian … I honestly don’t know what to say. You truly hurt me and when I got your note, a big part of me didn’t want to come. I didn’t think I’d be ready to see you. I’m still so angry and hurt.” Y/N spoke carefully, her eyes taking note of the way Sebastian’s jaw tensed. “And it is true that you probably don’t deserve it … but I love you too, Sebastian.” She finished as she averted her eyes – and if she had not, she would have seen the way the male’s eyes lit up in excitement, the way the corners of his lips tugged upwards into a beaming smile – his brain too focused on the fact that his crush reciprocated his feelings.

“So … do you forgive me?” Sebastian asked hopeful.

“I guess I will … in time. But it’ll cost you.” Y/N teased as she lifted her gaze, lifting her eyebrow jokingly at him.

“Anything you want. I’ll do anything!” Sebastian rushed out as his thumbs stroked over her cheeks.

“Start with a kiss, then.”

A/N: Idk why, but this oneshot started off as rather depressing. Hope you still liked it! I also felt like I rushed through most bits but honestly, this could be a whole chaptered fic in my opinion.

Would you have forgiven Sebastian? 👀

Hope you liked it!

#hogwarts legacy x reader #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian x reader #ominis gaunt #anne sallow #garreth weasley #natsai onai #hogwarts legacy imagine #slytherin boys

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tea-plantz · 9 months

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Ok ok okkk, so I got this really cute idea! It’s about my girl, Anne! (I feel like I haven’t gotten to write much about Anne, because I haven’t really gotten that many requests about her, therefore I took matters into my own hands)

She/her for Anne

They/them for the reader

Anne Boonchuy x reader

Ok so this is sorta like a little imagine/oneshot thingie!

So, imagine that you were Anne’s crush before she got trapped in Amphibia! And since you weren’t really a part of her friend group, you weren’t there when the girls opened the box in the park.

And now, Anne finally gets to see you again after so long!

This takes place in s3 episode ep2. Yk, the episode where Anne and the Plantars go to the mall so Anne can ‘test’ them? Yeah that one

Anne’s POV:

I was at the mall, seeing if the Planters were to be trusted in my world. I gave each one of them their own little task, and so far things where going pretty well!

‘Maybe we can actually manage to go one day without almost dying!’ I smiled to myself.

Then, all of a sudden I heard a familiar voice behind me. “Oh my gosh, Anne?!” (I don’t remember if this is what she actually says in the episode, but meh) ‘On no’ I turned around as I came face to face with an all too familiar ginger. Maggie.

“Hi Magg-“ before I was able to finish my sentence, she flung out and hugged me.

“Where have you been?! It’s been like five months! Didn’t you die?” (I still don’t know if this is what she actually said ok?😭)

“I was uuuuh.. in my family’s farm.. in… Alaska..?”

Maggie kept talking to my about some rando couple at school, “catching me up” on all the drama I missed, apparently. I was honestly trying to avoid her, since I needed to keep an eye on my frog family, plus I didn’t really care. However, she kept talking to me, not getting the hint at all.

I sighted, realizing that she wouldn’t go away. As I zoned out, my eyes drifted over to random places in the mall, searching for anything interesting to look at, when I suddenly caught sight of them. Y/n L/n. My crush. They were sitting over by one of the food courts, scrolling through their phone while sipping from the straw of a milkshake. My whole body tensed up as I stared at them, completely forgetting that Maggie was there, until she gasped violently and almost gave me a heart attack, that is.

“Oh my god, I totally forgot, you’re still crushing on Y/n!” She squealed loudly. My whole face turned to the color of a tomato as I shoved my hands in front of Maggie’s mouth.

“Shh! Don’t just shout that out loud!” I turned around to see if they had herd her, but luckily, my crush was still paying attention to their phone.

“Phew! They didn’t hear you… wait, how do you even know about that! I never told you anything about my love life!”

“Oh please Anne, it was sooo obvi! You totally suck at hiding the fact that you’re in love~” she said in a teasing voice.

I groaned as burrowed my face in my hands from both irritation and embarrassment.

“They are still single, by the way”

“Wait, they are?” I looked up as Maggie started laughing.

“C’mon lovergirl, just go up and talk to them”

She shoved me in their direction pretty hard as I stumbled forward. I was feeling really nervous right now. It’s not like I’ve never talked to Y/n before, but it’s been such a long time! Plus, we weren’t even that close before I got transported! ‘No, you know what, Anne? You’ve grown so much in Amphibia! This is just a pice of cake, you can do this!’

I took a deep breath before I started walking towards them, as I herd Maggie yell behind me.

“Good luck Anne, and welcome back from Alaska!”

Your POV:

I was sitting at a table at the mall, feeling more bored than ever. My friends had some stuff they had to get done today, so I was completely alone. I let out a sigh as I kept scrolling through social media, not really doing anything in specific.

Then, I decided to look up from my phone, just to look around the mall and see if anything interesting was going on. But the second I did, my eyes shot wide open. Is that… Anne?! I could feel my head almost explode with questions as I saw the brunette walking towards me, looking kinda nervous? ‘Huh, I wonder why?’.

“Anne?! Is that really you?” I got up from my seat as I ran towards her, giving her a quick hug. As I did, I could feel Anne tense up. She even started to stutter a bit.

“Y-yup, it’s me hehe.. god ol’ Anne..” she made finger guns as she spoke, whilst laughing awkwardly. “surprise..? ….I’ve been talking for to long”

I giggle at Anne’s weird antics as I notice her cheeks turning a slight shade darker.

‘That’s weird.. could she be blushing because of me?…. Nah’

“Where have you been all this time? I honestly thought you where kidnapped or something, no joke”

“Oh you know… just visiting my relatives and such in Alaska haha” Anne avoids my gaze as she says this, while sweat dropping a little. I must admit, I don’t fully believe her, but I won’t question it.

Anne’s POV

‘Omgomgomgomggg I can’t believe I’m talking to them again after so long! Gah, and I’m acting so weird too! Snap out of it Anne!’

We keep talking a little, catching up and just simply chatting with each other. It feels nice.. although I can’t help but noticing my face heat up a little as I’m nervously swaying back and forth on my heals whilst talking to them. I even added in some flirtatiously comments here and there, and woof my flirting skills are absolutely horrible!

‘I’m usually so good at talking to people, but Y/n makes it so hard! Why must romance be so difficult?!’

Then all of a sudden, we’re both interrupted by a loud crass.

“Woah, what was that?!” Y/n says as they look around, confused.

“I don’t know… wait” oh no… I completely forgot, the Plantars!

“ Sorry Y/n, gotta run, nice talking to you love ya, byeeeee” I yell as I run off.

Y/n POV

… well that was weird-

——————————————————————————

Anne’s POV:

“Phew, that was close” I panted out as me and the Planters where hiding with the trash cans behind the mall. I felt kinda bad since I had pushed them so hard, but luckily, everything worked out in the end as usual.

We where just about to leave when Sprig spoke up.

“Hey Anne, I noticed that you where talking to another one of your kind, but you looked really nervous? Why? Are they dangerous?” He whispered while leaning closer to me with a suspicious look.

“What?! Haha pff no, I was not nervous, whaaaat? Who’s Anne?! … Alright let’s leave” my face flushed red as I nervously looked around, trying to play it cool, but quite obviously, failing miserably.

Polly and Sprig looked at each other, sharing a smug grin as they giggled. Hop-hop on the other hand, placed his hands to his hips and started another lecture about the “good old days” and “tradition”.

“Why yes, I saw you talking to this person too. You even said ‘love ya’ to them! You know back in my days we didn’t even-“

“I SAID WHAT?!”

This honestly turned out a lot longer then I intended, but oh whatever, it’s cute! Fr though I love Amphibia s3 sm!!

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borkthemork · 3 years

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Drabble Request: Anne and Marcy after her rescue

You know what, Anon? You get a 2,600 word draft as a treat. Thank you for your patience!

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Anne had read books before.

She wasn't the kind of person to read long-winding literature like the typical bookworms back home, but she did read whatever interested her. From magazines to comics to zoo books about bird mating dances, Anne liked stuff that had meat to it.

Give her enemies to lovers, she'd cheer at the makeouts. Give her gut wrenching biographies about surviving the Himalayas, she'd bawl her eyes out. And if one gave her story about being one's true self under the guise and acceptance of a duck instructor then she'd quack it up and never be heard from again.

There needed to be meat, drama, scenes of people kissing in the rain. Stories were all about getting punched in the gut over some random guy, and that would always be the best part!

So she had no idea why Cynthia Coven never stood out to her.

It might be because of the choppy writing style or perhaps fantasy wasn't her thing, but that didn't make sense to her. After all, she'd read anything as long as it was interesting and somehow the Coven books just…didn't stick?

Sure, Cynthia had a pet squirrel. Anne could find a squirrel at the park anytime. Cynthia had spells, curses, people with talking body parts that shouldn't be talking at all. Okay, cool — ugh, why wasn't she interested? Everything about it seemed right up her alley!

She chalked it up to preferences and moved on.

But somehow, after all these years, the same book fluttered between the pages in her hands. And she found herself narrating, speaking the paragraphs out loud under the green canvas of her tent.

All because the bedridden girl beside her couldn't sleep.

It had been forty-six hours since Anne and the girls united. It felt a lot longer than that, if she wanted to be honest, but all the footing, fighting, and planning they did to get out unharmed from Andrias's castle had taken a toll on them. And for Mar-mar even more so, what with the amount of stuff that went down. A lot of explosions. Crying. Frog-on-frog violence.

So in this tent came privacy. Not enough privacy to basically stop Sprig or Sasha from barging in, but the makeshift walls were one of the most protected cliff faces inside the forests. So they were basically between a rock and a hard place.

And since Amphibia's nature became a hazard to not only the typical frog but aggro robot intruders, nothing got through as a threat in the end. Not even the huge mother frobo that she and Sash fought days prior.

Anne flipped a page.

The cold draft had slipped in and raised goosebumps on her umber skin. It almost seemed surreal that Summer started to transition out with the months passing, but the chirp of birds and the lack of cicada song had marked a new season, and now Anne shivered slightly with her narration.

Marcy's wounds needed to heal. From the remains of the stab wound to the headache to the numerous nicks upon her feet, if she didn't start sleeping then the medicine Maddie gave wouldn't come into effect anytime soon.

And if she didn't snore in the next ten minutes, Sash would have to knock her out with some sleepshroom grub saute and Anne wasn't going to let her get drugged anytime soon.

But from what was currently happening, Anne became unsure.

Marcy's eyes fluttered shut a few times. She would start drifting off at some random part in the story and then jolted back to listening intently as if nothing had happened. Nothing in the book could get her to sleep. Not Cynthia's introduction to werebeasts, her dramatic one-liners, or how she got knocked out for a minute straight from drinking a pint of Canadian beer.

Wait, could teens drink beer in Canada? Gah, that wasn't important!

What was important was that Marcy looked dead — terrifyingly dead — and no matter how much Anne tried to keep her eyes on the words, the fear clung to the recesses of her mind, asking if everything was going to be alright despite the girls' current luck streak.

That maybe this would be the last time she'd ever see Marcy alive. All because she fell asleep.

Anne leveled her voice when these thoughts struck her, and hoped Marcy didn't note the hitch in her throat or how she blinked faster to catch herself from crying.

Because Marcy was strong. She was stronger than people gave her credit for.

Anne peered down. Marcy's thumb had pressed to the side of Anne's fingers, their eyes meeting for a second; one harbored bags under her eyes, the other of worry.

"I promise I'll sleep." Her smile reached her gaze, the weariness plain on her worn out dimples and ashen cheeks. Anne might need a washcloth later. "It's been a long time since I've read the Cynthia Coven series, my brain can't help but pay attention."

"I know, Mar-mar." Anne closed her eyes for a second and let out a relaxed sigh. "Seven months can be pretty long."

"Tell me about it." Marcy's eyes lingered at the ceiling, licking her lips. "I've been so busy with everything that's been happening that I've barely caught up with the latest book."

"Yeah." Anne smiled. "You know they've got a new release out?"

She blinked. Almost as if Anne punched her in the face at that moment. "Are you serious? Aw man, I missed so much."

"Hey, it's alright. It'll be waiting for you when we get back." Besides, Anne already wrapped the edition in a lot of Christmas paper, might as well keep the surprise.

But Marcy still looked miserable. She pouted, letting her sink more into the mattress almost comically, and Anne bit back a laugh when she groaned. "Oh man, I'm so excited, this sucks! At least tell me if Cynthia gets over the Bridge of Quintessence."

"I don't know what that means and besides, you're two books behind, why would you wanna spoil it!"

They shared a laugh and carried on. Anne missed this. She did. In between the page clips and the eagerness flowing in Marcy's voice, it almost seemed like they were back to what they once were: Two girls laughing and making fun of bad jokes, giggling at stuff that didn't make sense in the story. It almost made the worries over Andrias and her parents grow into background noise.

Almost.

Anne perked up. A question had flown past her, and now Marcy stared at her, inquiry clear in her eyes. "Oh, sorry, I zoned out a bit. What'd you say, Marbles?"

"I'm curious, Annarama."

"Curious about what?"

Marcy's eyes traveled over her shoulder for a second. Was it the fatigue? Judging from how she fiddled with her fingers, the question must've been something serious, maybe something about Andrias or what happened back in the castle.

Whatever it was, Anne readied herself as she waited.

And then:

"Is that mine?"

Anne blinked. She ogled her book, then at the bedside table with its medicinal herbs, then the Thai Go logo printed fresh on her shirt. "What's yours?"

She pointed to Anne's waist.

When Anne looked down, the realization struck her like a bat. Under the filtered sunlight, she almost forgot that the yellow jacket around her waist was there to begin with, snug and tight in that hard knot Anne tied everytime she stepped out of the house.

And somehow, it remained clean from countless dimensional hops and Super Saiyan power-ups. And now it was here. Being scrutinized by her and the girl opposite her.

With that, she started to sweat.

Right, that.

A nervous laugh burst out from her mouth, making Marcy stare at her more out of concern.

How was she going to explain that?

"Oh, yeah! I almost forgot!" She rubbed her neck, trying her best to pick out the right reasons in her mind, but nothing stuck out to her. "It's a funny story actually, so funny that you'll probably forget in the morning so why not another time?"

A smile formed. "I don't know, Anne." Her eyes scrunched up too in pleasure, pressing her thumb against Anne's knuckles. "I'm all for sleeping to a comedy. Remember when we watched Borat? I laughed so hard I passed out."

"Oh, Mar-mar, that's not what I mean."

"Then what do you mean?" She then pulled her hand away, frowning. "Unless I'm pushing you, then I'll just—"

"No, no. You're fine!" What wasn't fine was how her heart pounded against her chest. Or, that the more she tried to take a deep breath, Marcy's growing concern made her laughter sound more like an old man wheezing from an asthma attack.

Anne was about to make a dumbass out of herself and that was fine! As long as she stayed calm and explained then maybe she wouldn't feel nervous about this.

Wait, why was she nervous anyway? It was just a jacket!

Oh, she knew why.

"Okay." Anne placed the book down, trying to regain her breath. Might as well go for it. What was the worst that could happen? Don't answer that. "So you remember how I've been trying to find my way back after I got through the portal?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, I didn't want to forget. Not like I would've but I thought you died and I knew taking down Andrias was the only way to avenge you and get Sasha back." Anne sharply inhaled — words speeding past her ears. "So I thought 'Hey, I'll carry your jacket so I don't forget' and I basically wore it around everyday until I finally found a way back. So…"

Marcy's stare didn't help her sweating as she spoke, giving jazz hands to finish it all off. "Here I am. Yeah."

Marcy continued to stare at her. She'd never seen her this gobsmacked before; usually she found a way to ask questions, to let her enthusiasm shine through with eager stride, but now she became a deer in the highlights. All agape. All wide-eyed.

Oh Frog, I broke her.

"Mar-mar, you okay?"

"So you wore my jacket as a reminder to stop Andrias," she asked slowly, "after months of finding a way back?"

Anne puffed out her cheeks. "Maybe?"

"Anne…"

"Okay, okay, yeah." She hung her head, defeat in her voice. "I did."

"Oh." Marcy's eyes widened to the size of saucers, a shaky exhale breaking through. "Oh."

Anne stood up. If she didn't get out in the next fifteen seconds, she was going to explode. "Okay, yep! That's it for the Cynthia Coven series! Goodnight, Mar-mar, I'll check up on you later—!"

"Wait, wait!"

Marcy latched onto her wrist. Her ears pounded on, hard to focus with her sweaty palms and the shallowness of her breath. Because this whole situation was awkward and weird and it made her feel funny things in her heart and darn it Anne should've handled this back on Earth — not while they were stuck in the middle of a Frog darn war!

"Anne, please look at me."

She did.

When she turned, the sight surprised her. Marcy's cheeks had darkened considerably as they held each other's gazes, the hold on her arm still having them tethered to one another.

Then the touch loosened slightly. It didn't speak of fear nor did it speak of pain. It didn't speak of the desperation Marcy once had when she held her fists in the broken halls of the Newtopian castle. What Anne instead found was reassurance. A reassurance in their interlocked hands, at how they gazed intently under the tent canvas, a heat creeping well onto Anne's cheeks too.

"It's really sweet that you wore my jacket like that." Marcy then bore down at the bedding lines, almost squeaking her words. "And very clever! Yeah! Because a physical reminder is a great alternative to notebooks and to-do list, and since my jacket has emotional connotations to me, of course you'd wear it! It just makes sense."

Marcy coughed into her sleeve, words almost a whisper. "You've always been good at improvising, after all."

"Mar-mar..."

"And thank you."

Anne stopped. She could've honed in on the bustling Wartwoodians outside. Or the rustle of the forest trees. But she focused on the comforting tap of Marcy's fingers, and the gleam in the girl's eyes — almost as if Marcy was about to cry.

"You've always been kind," she murmured. Her fingers trailed circles on Anne's palms, leaving her to shudder slightly under the touch. Especially when Marcy's eyes grew half-lidded. Remorse on her lips. "And to know you worked so hard after everything I did to you and Sash, I don't how I'll ever make it up for it."

"You don't have to do that," she said. Her words drifted between them, remembering what Mrs. Wu said a few months ago: That Marcy was the best out of all of them. Because she always needed to be. "What Andrias did was not your fault, and I'll beat him again if he ever makes you think it is."

"Besides," she said, putting on a smile. "Having you beside me has always been enough. Honest."

But Marcy's grief remained on her face, unspoken as her fingers faltered their dragging on Anne's palms.

Because she wanted to hold her hand instead, both their fingers trembling from the bedridden girl's arm.

"Anne, I hurt you. I did. No matter how much I try to justify myself, I still omitted everything about what I knew." Her eyebrows furrowed, glaring more at their shaky hands. "I was selfish. I wasn't honest."

"Don't say that. You didn't know this would happen, I understand this now."

"But you're still angry." Marcy sighed. "I know you are."

The conifers rustled silently. The faraway bugs whistled, occupying each interval as they held hands, their gazes observing anything but the other. Until Anne couldn't think up a better excuse anymore.

As much as Anne tried to forgive, there was something frightening about the resentment in her skin, underneath all that warmth. It went against every lesson she learned. Every lesson of compassion. Or maybe she was just denying it for what it truly was — a tight angry wound that had reason to exist as much as their handlock.

Her body sagged at the thought. She'd gotten so far, trying to deny anything about herself would reverse so much.

"Yeah," she said softly. "I'm still mad. I don't want to be, but I am. But that doesn't mean I was gonna leave you guys in the middle of a war." The next words were under her breath. "I never wanted you guys to get hurt in the first place."

Marcy brushed her knuckles. "Take as much time as you need."

"I think a few months is enough."

"Or a year."

A smile. "Maybe more."

And Anne held her hand until the silence heard their heartbeats. Until their smiles returned slowly, surely.

"I talked to Sasha before you came in," Marcy said.

"You did?"

She nodded. "Mhm. And I don't know if she told you this, but we both agreed to a concordance." Marcy faltered. "An agreement I mean."

Anne snorted. "You don't have to dumb yourself down around me."

"Heyy, I'm not, I just don't want this to sound...clinical."

"Right."

The younger girl shuffled closer to her, which was surprising enough with the limited room on the bed itself. But when Anne held her eyes, there came recognition of something new. Was it relief? Worry?

"What we agreed on is that you don't have to forgive us. Maybe you'll be mad at us for a long time—"

"Mar-mar, I'm not—"

"Let me finish," she said softly. Anne hesitated. She resolved to caress Marcy's knuckles instead, and, of course, she didn't seem to mind. "Whatever happens, whatever you decide, we're not going to abandon you. If you want us out of your life, we'll respect it. If you want us to stay, then we'll respect that too."

Marcy inhaled, slow and careful.

"And when you're ready, I'll make sure to be close by."

There had been times where Anne couldn’t predict what her future held. There had been numerous moments where Anne wanted to quit, to get angry, to question how her life hit upon all these coincidences like pinball and found herself in the most surprising of situations.

But when Marcy finished, stared at her, waiting for her to let her statement sink in, everything seemed to click in place. For just a single moment.

Each word had come out resilient, well thought-out. Anne could imagine the planning so clearly: How Sasha and Marcy sat in the same positions as them, sat with their heads together as they discussed what to say. And the more Anne listened, she could only hope that Sasha was just around the corner, ready to say the same things in her own Sasha-like way.

But for now, they gripped each other's hands, squeezed their fingers until Anne could only think of the heat. The burn in her nose. Then the bit-back sob and her trembling lip as Marcy pressed a thumb carefully to Anne's cheek, rubbing the tear trail away.

Because out of everything Anne predicted to find at the other end of the portal, it wasn’t this.

"You promise?"

Marcy smiled, the ends of her lips twitching weakly. "I promise this time." Her voice broke. "I do."

With it, came the waterworks.

#amphibia #marcanne #annarcy #asks #Anonymous #fanfic #this took weeks to write here ya go

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penaltbox · 4 years

Text

flights, fate, and football games (4+1) - quinn hughes

*or 4 times you were in the same place and didn’t know it + 1 time you were in the same place on purpose*

if you like it let me know :) reblog it, send me a message, leave your thoughts in the tags. thanks in advance!

word count: ~3k

Same restaurant/Post playoffs

You wave at your two best friends as soon as you enter the restaurant, surprisingly being the one who was late this time. You hit more traffic than you expected, but Pop’s was not to be missed.

The little Ferndale restaurant was one of your favorites and you needed the time to wind down after the crazy week you’d had. You hear a guy’s voice behind you talking to the suddenly excited hostess as you walk past her to get to your table, but never glance back at who it might have been.

“Wow, for once we aren’t the late ones,” Abby smiles, nudging Hannah with her elbow.

“Oh, aren’t you guys funny,” you roll your eyes playfully, but take a seat with them, “it wasn’t my fault though. Traffic was insane on the highway. It’s like everyone forgot how to drive at once.”

“I hit some traffic too, no worries,” Hannah smiles, glancing over your shoulder, “did you somehow miss those super cute boys that came in behind you though? The one was so your type.”

Your eyes widen a little as you turn around to quickly survey the area you’d just come from. There’s no one waiting at the front of the restaurant though, so you turn back with a frown.

“I mean, I heard a guy’s voice as I walked in but I didn’t think to look back at him. Why? Was he really that cute?” You ask, looking around the restaurant to see if you could find who she was talking about.

Abby sighs, “I can’t see where they went either but Hannah and I noticed them as soon as you got here. We should have got you to turn around somehow.”

You shrug, checking over the menu and deciding between a pizza or the bolognese instead, “I guess if I was supposed to have seen him then I would have.”

You would have looked around for him more but the waiter showed up and you were dying to get your hands on a glass of wine to start your weekend off.

...

“Quinn, I swear if you don’t start talking to cute girls when you see them I’ll end your career,” Will points across the table.

Josh holds his hands up and laughs, “guys, come on. We all know Quinn isn’t smooth enough to seal the deal anyways.”

This gets the other two laughing, but Quinn doesn’t find it as humorous. He rolls his eyes and tries to fight off a smile. He opts for focusing his attention extra carefully on the menu rather than fueling the fire that was already started.

“Hey, by the end of summer you never know. Maybe you’ll be able to land a girl. It might take a small miracle, but we’ll help you out if we can,” Will grins, thinking it’s the funniest thing in the world.

“Great,” Quinn nods, thinking matchmaker Will sounded like a living nightmare, “I’m sure that would go well.”

He tries to brush it off, but the thought lingers a little longer. He’d find someone one of these days. His mom always told him he shouldn’t rush a good thing. It would happen when it was supposed to.

Your brother’s hockey practice/Early June

“I swear to god, Adam, you need to get moving,” you mumble, watching your brother get beat in yet another drill.

The air inside USA arena was definitely colder than outside and you were wondering how you’d managed to get stuck picking him up that night. He seemed off though so maybe he’d asked your mom if you’d get him. Sometimes he needed to talk, and definitely not to your parents.

The whistle blows loudly and you watch your little brother skate off with his head down. He’d been lucky to make the U17’s but you could tell he was struggling. It made your heart hurt and you knew the drive home would involve the long route that day.

You wait in the lobby, responding to your group chat that had somehow blown up while you watched the end of the practice. You’re in the middle of a message when an oddly familiar voice catches your attention.

You pick up your head and look around just as a group of guys head down the stairs to the locker rooms. You don’t manage to see any of them but something about the voice you’d heard seemed to catch your attention for some reason. Where had you heard that voice before?

Adam comes barreling out of the doors, an annoyed look on his face, “let’s go.”

“Hi to you too, asshole,” you scoff, but the look on his face matches the tone he’d given you. Something was wrong.

You grab your keys and walk out of the arena, glancing over at your only sibling, “Adam, what’s wrong? Wasn’t there another practice after that you wanted to watch or something?”

“No, some alumni guys rented the ice next and pushed the 18’s back an hour,” he mumbles, his hands dug down in his pockets.

You reach over and ruffle his hair, despite the fact he’s well taller than you now, “come on, we’re getting ice cream before we get home. And you can tell me what’s got you so worked up on the way.”

A smile takes over his face finally as he reaches your car, “okay fine. So there’s this girl in my chem class but she’s dating a football player.”

“Ew,” you laugh, playing along with the story, “also if you’re playing like shit because you’re mad that a girl you like is taken then I’m kicking your ass”.

“Hey, it was one bad practice. Just don’t tell dad,” he looks over, “surprised you didn’t want to stay and watch the next practice though. You know it’s the guys who went on to play college and pros and stuff right?”

You almost smack him when you see how smug he looks, but you hold off for once, “the last thing I need is some trouble maker hockey player to deal with. I already have you.”

“Suit yourself. Every girl I know loves Hughes though,” he shrugs.

The name sounds familiar but you don’t think twice about it for some reason. Of course you wanted a boyfriend but you weren’t sure you wanted your younger brother setting that up for you.

…

“Try not to suck tonight, okay?” Jack laughs, shrugging his bag a little higher on his shoulder as he picks on his older brother.

Quinn laughs and shoves him sideways, “try not to get run over. Are you gonna put any weight on this summer, bud?”

“You’re both getting lapped,” Alex interjects, walking between the two and entering the arena first.

Quinn notices you leaning against the wall in the lobby and does a double take. Had he seen you before? Why did you seem so familiar? You had to be waiting for someone if you were there, he knew the 17’s had the ice, so maybe you were younger than he thought.

He shakes off the odd feeling he gets from seeing you and turns to find his brother grinning. Quinn knows he’s been caught staring and he immediately bumps Jack into the wall.

“Don’t even think about it!” He says, hurrying down the stairs as Alex holds the door.

“I’m just saying!” Jack yells after his older brother, “I could go play wingman for you!”

Quinn thinks that sounds like the worst thing ever, if he’s being honest. The last thing he needs is to rely on his brother to set him up. He could see that going wrong in a million different ways.

The airport/pre-4th of July

You sigh, slouching down in your seat a little further as you take a sip of your coffee. You wish your anxiety didn’t have you at the airport almost two hours before takeoff, but here you were.

You watch a few planes take off, ignoring your surroundings for a little while as you wonder where the people might be going and why. You respond to a text from your aunt in Boston, who you were going to visit, and quickly get lost in your thoughts again.

You let your eyes start to wander after a bit and they land on a cute boy a few rows over. He’s sitting with a few other boys around his age and you glance over at their gate. New Hampshire? What was even in New Hampshire?

You watch him for a few more minutes, but shake your head before looking back out the window. You certainly weren’t brave enough to go talk to him and you didn’t want to get caught staring. Something about him seemed so familiar but you brush it off, figuring you were just imagining things.

…

Quinn drops his backpack and sits heavily into the creaky airport chair, arguing with Luke about what they’d do first when they got to the cabin. There was no winning the argument but Luke liked to be a pest and Quinn had learned from being gone so much that sometimes he just needed to let his little brother bug him while he could.

Airports were so boring and he’d luckily stalled enough that his parents didn’t have them all there three hours early for once. Quinn lets Luke “win” the argument finally, agreeing that they’ll go on the boat as soon as they get there.

Quinn’s attention wanders and he looks around the airport, his eyes seeming to focus on the gate heading for Boston. His eyebrows pull together as he tries to squint and see the line of people boarding. He swears he sees a familiar face but he’s not so sure.

There’s no way it was the same person he saw at the arena a few weeks ago, right? He blinks hard and suddenly he’s hit with a water bottle in the chest.

“Dude are you good?” Jack questions him, waving a hand in front of the older boy’s face.

Quinn looks at his brother quickly before checking where you’d been standing, only to find you’d already boarded the plane, “yeah, knock it off. Can’t you leave me alone for like five minutes ever?”

Quinn is mildly annoyed that his brother pulled the stunt when he did and he’d lost sight of you before he could be sure. Maybe you were from Boston and you were headed home. That wouldn’t explain why you were at USA arena unless your brother played there, too.

He turns to Luke then, elbowing the youngest Hughes to get his attention, “do you play with any kids from Boston?”

Ann Arbor/football game/late August

You laugh as you try and keep up with Abby and Hannah, excited for one last year at the school that held your heart. You were convinced you could never leave Ann Arbor and luckily for one more year you didn’t have to.

The weather was perfect that night as the first football game was set to kickoff in no time but the three of you had left a pregame a bit later than you planned for. You’re being rushed through the crowd by Hannah, who has a tight hold on your hand, when Abby suddenly veers off.

“Hold on, I need to say hi to him!” She yells over her shoulder, causing Hannah to stop in her tracks and you to slam into her back.

The two of you stumble a little but fix yourself, standing and watching where Abby had run off to. She moves to a group of guys and your stomach turns a little with worry, hoping she actually knew who these people were.

You’re about to march over when you see the boy. The one from the airport. You shake your head a little, trying to make sure you weren’t imagining what you were seeing, but he really is there. Abby is talking to his friends and he’s got a soft smile that makes you want to know more about him. He’s not as outspoken as his friends and his hands are stuffed in his pockets like he’s not sure what else to do with them.

Hannah catches you staring and laughs, “that’s Quinn by the way. I know you’re looking. Abby met those boys a couple months ago while she did her classes on campus. Can you believe they’re the ones we saw at Pop’s at the beginning of the summer?”

“They’re who?” You ask, your brain speeding through the memories, but all that keeps coming up is Quinn.

Pop’s, the airport, and now here. Was he the guy from the rink too? Was that the voice you’d recognized. There was no way you’d been in all the same places for the last three months and never talked to each other or actually truly met. What kind of fate was playing around with you two?

You glance back over at Quinn only to find him looking at you, too. Your cheeks feel instantly hot and you bite your lip, looking away quickly. You hated that you reacted so quickly to something so simple. Maybe he was looking at Hannah, you tried to reason with yourself. Or maybe he recognized you too.

…

Quinn is shocked when a bouncy little blonde runs up to Josh and says hello to him. She’s happy as can be and Quinn would be lying if he said she wasn’t cute. She quickly introduces herself and motions back at her friends, talking a mile a minute, when Quinn realizes he’d definitely met her earlier that summer.

Her and her friends were going to the game but if the boys wanted to hang out after they’d be having a small party at their place and they were more than welcome to come. Quinn gives Josh a little nod when the taller boy checks with him for plans and Josh smiles at the girl he’d been talking about for weeks now.

Quinn looks around the crowd of maize and blue, looking for the friends she’d mentioned, and his eyes freeze on one in particular. You’re so familiar in that moment and suddenly you’re the prettiest girl he sees there. It was the same feeling as the rink, the airport, and now here in Ann Arbor. What were the chances that he’d ran into you this many times but never talked to you?

He sees you and your friend watching in their direction and he catches your eye. You blush and bite your lip, making him smile right away. That had to be the cutest thing he’d seen in a long time. He forgets that Abby has mentioned her friends and he’s about to walk over and talk to you when Josh grabs his arm.

“Come on, we have to go this way to get to the field,” Josh says, nodding in the opposite direction of the girls.

Quinn is about to argue, but sighs instead, “yeah, okay. Did you say we’re seeing them again later?”

+1 Your friends set you up/late August/post football game

“You wouldn’t stop staring at him. Don’t even try and lie about it now!” Hannah accuses, pointing her finger at you.

You feel like you’re dying of embarrassment and Abby can’t stand up straight because of how hard she’s laughing over the situation. You were being bullied by your best friends and none of you could contain your laughter over it all. There were more than a few people watching the scene as you made your way around the field, trying to find which section your tickets were for.

“Stop, I don’t even know him!” You say, though it’s only a partial lie.

Abby snorts a little and carefully wipes a tear away from the corner of her eye, “holy shit, my stomach hurts from laughing so hard. Yeah, Quinn is awkward as hell but I think you two would be amazing so you’re definitely meeting him tonight.”

She’s quick to pull out her phone and text Josh, already making a plan with him to get you and Quinn cornered in the same area. You can’t fight her on this. Once Abby set her mind to something it was going to happen so you were just along for the ride at this point.

The football game goes by too fast considering it was the last first game of the season you’d ever get as an undergrad, but the three of you are in such good moods that you hardly have time to be sad about it.

You leave the game a few minutes early to try and beat some of the crowds as you head back for the house you all shared. You almost forget the boys are coming over as you head to the kitchen and grab a drink. You figured you had a little while before they’d show anyways.

Popping the top of your can, you take a big drink and sigh. You hear Abby’s little giggle behind you and you whip around confused. You’re suddenly face to face with Quinn and you immediately blush in embarrassment.

“Uh, hi,” you stutter, giving him a little smile even though you wish the ground would open up and swallow you whole.

“Hi,” he says, and you know immediately that he was the one you’d almost run into so many times that summer.

His smile is just as nervous as yours and you get why Abby had called him awkward before. He fidgets with his hands as he stands in front of you but it’s endearing somehow. He’s not overly cocky or trying to impress you somehow and yet you’re completely on board with getting to know him.

He’s a stranger, technically, but he feels so familiar that you laugh a little. Quinn’s eyebrows furrow over the noise but he doesn’t actually ask.

“Sorry, it’s just… did you want a drink or something?” you offer, trying to keep yourself from getting giddy over having him in front of you after all the months of fate making sure you dodged each other.

His smile gets bigger then and he seems to relax, “yeah, that sounds good. Maybe I could steal you too and get to know you? If you want anyways.”

You nod, not hiding your smile anymore, “I think I’d really like that. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

#quinn hughes #my writing #mine #vancouver canucks #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine #jack hughes

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kareofbears · 3 years

Text

plainly in truth, chapter 1/5

“Without you around, it's sorta like stuff is just kinda...bleh."

—

Or: hiding, confiding, and misguiding.

read on ao3 or below the cut :)

The sweat on the back of Ryuji’s neck is thick as he climbs the stairs to his apartment after a lengthy run.

It’s hot for spring, mild for summer, and now that it’s late June, it’s finally starting to teeter into real heat. He escalated slowly, gripping the guard rail like an old man to make sure his legs don’t give out, in no rush to head back to an empty apartment. His mom’s been doing back to back shifts, businesses booming like it does during this time of the year.

Normally, that would make him miserable. Nothing worse than hopping back from a day of fun shit only to come back to an empty living space with laundry piled to the nines and the TV left running. He doesn’t blame his mom because he’s not an asshole, but he never dealt well with being alone. But nowadays, he’s actually starting to like it. Crave it. Maybe a little too much.

It’s easier to deal with being alone than getting that sinking feeling he gets whenever he talks to his friends.

Shoving his hand in his basketball shorts, he pulls out his keys when something makes him pause. The plastic plant beside the entrance had been moved. Ryuji squints. Quietly, he grabs the knob and turns. It’s unlocked.

“Hey.”

Ryuji lets out a frustrated sigh, tension leaving his shoulders as he kicks the door closed. “Fucking hell. How’d you get in here?”

Seeing Ann sit primly with her legs crossed in a dining table that’s barely big enough to put two plates down evokes a feeling of nostalgia in him. She holds a key between her fingers idly. “Spare key hasn’t changed since we were thirteen.”

He walks to the fridge, pulls out a carton of milk and drinks it straight, ignoring her grimace. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he offers it to her.

“Hard pass.”

“Suit yourself,” he shrugs, putting it back in the fridge. “I’m gonna shower. I think we might have some chips in the cupboards if you want some. Might be stale though.”

When Ann speaks again, her tone is flat. “You haven’t been hanging out with us. Or even talking to us.”

He tries not to let the annoyance show in his face too much. “Yeah, well, what part of ‘I need some alone time’ was confusing to you?”

Wood creaks, and he can feel her presence right behind him. “Cut the crap, Sakamoto. Something happened, I know it did. It’s not like you for your big mouth to be shut like this.”

Shaking his head, he strides to his room, praying that Ann will take the hint.

She doesn’t. “Okay, so I’ll just keep talking until something happens.” She leans against his door frame as he rummages for a change of clothes, listing off with her fingers. “It’s summer vacation, so it’s not a school thing. Phantom Thief stuff has been done for a while, so it’s not that either. I saw your mom last week, and she’s doing great. Congratulate her on the promotion for me, by the way. And the only other thing in your life that’s important is—” he hears her pause suddenly. “Are you and Akira doing okay?”

The sudden sharpness in her voice is enough to make his irritation ebb away for a second. “We’re fine,” he answers, pulling a probably clean shirt from the bottom of his drawer. He knows just how much she’s invested in their relationship. She’s pretty much a third member given how desperate she is to make them work. “I would’ve told you if we weren’t.”

“Thank god,” she breathes. “So what’s going on?”

“Nothing,” he rolls his eyes. “A big fat load of nothing with nothing sprinkled on top. You want me to say it again?”

“If it’s nothing, then why aren’t you over the moon that Akira’s finally visiting tomorrow?”

His stomach does a weird flop inside of him. He can’t tell if it’s a good flop or a bad one. “I’m over the moon,” he defends. “I’m crazy excited.”

“Then show it!”

“Okay! Damn, sorry I wasn’t happy enough for you.” Giving up on finding clean shorts, he picks one up from the floor and hopes it isn’t too gross. “I’m headed to the shower.” He rounds on her, giving her a glare. “And do not tell Akira that anything’s going on with me, ‘cause there isn’t anything going on. You’re just gonna make him worry for no reason and he’s gonna be all—” he frowns, overexaggerated. “—About this, so cool it.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. He won’t hear about it from me.” Ann gives him a long stare, and he refuses to look away. “You sure you’re okay?” she asks, softer this time.

“Never been better. Now scram.”

“Good. See you tomorrow, and don’t be late!” she calls as she marches through his apartment, foot out the door. “Noon! Leblanc!”

“I got it!” he yells back.

When the lock clicks back into place, Ryuji leans his back against the wall, letting his eyes slide shut. Is he that obvious that Ann would notice? He rubs his eyes with palms, frustrated. If Ann noticed, Akira’s definitely going to notice, and that isn’t allowed. He’ll just have to do better.

Going into the bathroom, flicking on the shower, he realizes he forgot his towel in his bedroom. Stupid Ann, distracting him.

Padding back to his room, he nabs it from the side of his bed, refusing to look at the letter collecting dust on his desk as he flicks the light off once more.

—

Akira came home to a face-full of streamers, two pots of curry, and six arms tackling him. Smiles and hugs were passed like a bottle of wine after a war has been won, and Akira shrugs it all off like he isn’t soaking up each and every exclamation of how much they miss him for a rainy day. Morgana gets his fair amount of head scratches, Akira gets enough noogies to warrant a concussion, and even Ryuji somehow manages to forget his problems for approximately three minutes.

It’s evening now, and while everyone had already left (not after slamming down two plates each and Yusuke brazenly asking for tupperware after the fact), Ryuji decided to linger.

“So,” he starts, sleeves rolled up as he washes the dishes while Akira dries. It might not look like it, but he doesn’t mind doing his chores; especially not with the way they both purposefully knock their knuckles against each other whenever they pass a plate between themselves.

“So,” Akira repeats. “I’m home. That’s cool, huh?” Even with eighteen layers of nonchalance layered on top of each other, there’s no hiding the lilt in his voice.

“Pretty damn cool,” he rinses a mug and hands it to him. Ryuji pauses as he watches Akira dry, lip quirked up. “I like seeing you like this.”

“Cleaning?”

“No, you bastard.” He reaches forward, unable to help himself as he pinches his cheek. “Smiley.”

Akira slaps his hand away. “I’m always happy,” he says, voice fond.

“I didn’t say happy, now did I? I said—” Ryuji wipes both hands on his jeans before pinching his cheek with both hands. “Smiley!”

He doesn’t fight back this time; instead, he lets Ryuji knead his face. “Your hands are wet,” he complains, slightly slurred.

“Suck it up.” His skin is mesmerizingly soft. Probably softer than even a girl’s. He would hold him like this all night if he’d let him. “This saves you from washing your face tonight, so you’re welcome.”

With one last tug, he reluctantly sets him free. Akira’s face is red and blotchy from the assault, but somehow he pulls it off because of course he does. “Thanks,” he deadpans.

“Don’t sweat it, dude. You know I got you,” he laughs, and for a second, he feels good. Light. Being with Akira does that to him, a pendant that wards off all evil. The pendant must’ve had some fine print in the contract though, because his stomach drops again when he remembers again. Ryuji turns around and starts scrubbing the pan harder than he needs to. Chill out, chill out, chill out.

Arms encircle his waist. “Sojiro’s gonna smite us if we don’t finish these before he opens tomorrow,” Ryuji says.

“I know.” A chin hooks around his shoulder blade, sliding in place. A perfect fit. “We’ll get to it.”

Ryuji leans back, far enough to smell the shampoo in his hair. He breathes in deep. It’s not what he’s used to, probably different brands in his hometown, but it still smells nice.

With the water still running, a group of businessmen’s laughter booming from just outside the cafe, Ryuji nearly says it. To take that weight off of his weakened knees and share some of the burden with someone who’s never complained about carrying some of his baggage. It would be embarrassing, humiliating, fucking mortifying, but it would be better than this, right?

He opens his mouth. “Missed you,” is what comes out instead.

“Missed you more, I think.” A beat passes, and then Akira continues, quietly: “You don’t know how good it feels to be back.”

That was all it took. The final piece, the last lock. The words he needed to convince him that this was the right thing to do. If he was on the fence of whether or not to tell Akira, this was the tug that took him over the edge. Because Akira came here for one reason: to have fun. To feel good again. To feel like Akira again. Is Ryuji really going to be the one to shit all over that? To fuck up his summer vacation with his problems again?

Yeah. Fuck that.

He wishes he can pull Akira impossibly closer. “Welcome home.”

It can wait until he leaves. After that, the world will just have to explode, taking him with it.

—

Ryuji’s in bed that night, tossing and turning, blanket tangled in his legs and head underneath his pillow, when he finally caves.

Smacking around for his phone, he pulls it to his face, squinting against the bright light.

SR: futaba

The response was immediate.

SF: what SR: that was fast. whatre you doing up SF: im always up. why are YOU up SR: just wanted to talk SF: ok

He waits a few moments to see if she’d continue the conversation. She doesn’t.

SR: hows school? SF: ?????? who cares, its three am SR: i care SF: ugh, go to sleep. we’re meeting tomorrow anyway SR: yeah but you dont talk about school during group meetings much SF: alright weirdo SF: schools cool. people mostly leave me alone, and i think akira must’ve tipped off kawakami cause she is wayyyy too nice to me even after bullying her in front of the class SR: what did you do lmfao SF: she said that whoever could recite pi to ten decimal points can get a bonus ten percent in the final SF: and i kept going until the bell rang SR: damn! SF: its mostly okay though. better than i thought it’d be for sure SR: and how about actual school stuff SR: like classes. Math, science, english, all that shit. SF: sheesh, easiest part no doubt. could do all that stuff in my sleep SR: really? even though youre a year behind? SF: uh yeah? i could be eight years behind and still dunk on these clowns with one hand tied behind my back and watching a live stream

Ah, right. Futaba’s a literal genius. As in ‘Make A Documentary Of Her In Twenty Years In A Movie He’d Never Watch But Makoto Would Love’ kind of genius. He forgot.

SR: nice SR: thanks, im gonna sleep now SF: kk see you SF: (¯﹃¯)

—

“Okay, this is getting a little ridiculous,” Ryuji says when he opens the door to his apartment.

Ann is sitting in his dining chair once again, this time donned in hot pink shades and a comically big sun hat. He tries not to let annoyance and panic flare inside him. He loves her, because of course he does, but he was banking on stocking up some energy and alone time before they hit the road. Maybe even shed a couple of frustrated tears, who knows? As long as he’s alone, it’s fair game.

“Hey, don’t give me any of that,” Ann says. “You and packing your luggage is like mayonnaise and my flawless complexion—it’s not good, buster. Remember Hawaii?”

He feels his skin heat up, and slams the door harder than he should. “How the hell was I supposed to know I’d get randomly checked? ‘Sides, I didn’t do anything illegal.”

“A backpack filled with condoms and a toothbrush might as well have been illegal.” Ann reaches into her pocket, whipping out a wrinkled piece of paper. “You can’t pull that kinda crap now, and if I know him as well as I do, I’m sure Akira’s already packing for that.” She laughs at her own joke and raises her hand enthusiastically. He can’t help but grin as he high fives her. Hey, even if his life is falling apart, at least he’s still getting some, right?

“So I’m here to help,” she continues, shaking the sting from her palms. “I finished packing a day early and everything, so I better get some thanks after this.” Before he can complain, she holds up a finger, expression stern. “I know you don’t need help. Yes, I’m still worried about you. Yes, I’m doing this because I’m worried about you. Let me do this stupid little thing, okay? It’ll make me feel better.”

His stomach churns, more intense than usual. “You’re still worried about me?” he asks, breath hitching. What? No. Did he fail at that too? Does she know? That must mean Akira knows, right? And if Akira knows, then—

“Whoa, hold on!” A hand grips his shoulders. “Deep breaths, Sakamoto. Don’t spiral on me now.” Gently, he’s led to a chair. He sits gratefully and waits for his heart rate to drop. The entire time, Ann stays quiet.

Eventually, when the room stops closing in on him, he sighs and leans back against his chair. “Sorry,” he says, feeling really stupid. Damn, what happened to him keeping this on the down low?

She slaps his knee. “Shut up, don’t apologize for that,” she scolds, and he almost smiles. It’s easy to forget how good Ann is at this sort of thing. For better or for worse, she’s had plenty of practice while talking to Shiho. The grip on his knee tightens. “Ryuji…”

He shakes his head. “No.”

And, for better or for worse, she absolutely does not let things go.

“Look, buddy.” The grip is starting to hurt, and it means business if her red acrylics are anything to go by. “I just saw you have a teensy little panic attack two damn minutes ago, and you’re expecting me to just leave you to it? Are you a clown? Are you a clown in a circus, Sakamoto? Is that what you are?”

“I just don’t want to fucking talk about it.” He shoves her hand off his knee, and before he knows it, his voice is raised. “Christ, can’t you just leave me alone? All you do is get up in my business when I clearly didn’t ask you to. Just cause we did this whole Phantom Thief crap together doesn’t mean it gives you the right to everything going on in my life.”

He loathes the ringing in his ears from his own voice. He hates it when he yells in the apartment, but hates the silence that follows more. Too much like his dad, too much like his exhausted mom.

Ann is staring up at him, hard and unwavering. “You’re such a piece of shit sometimes.”

“Huh?”

“If you want me off your tail, you’re gonna have to work harder than that.” She gets on her feet, glaring at him. “‘Piss me off and make me leave in tears’ was your tactic, right? Boring. Overdone. Try again.”

The way she’s standing, shoulders pushed back and chin jutted out like she’s ready for a shoot in some kind of army magazine, means she’s dead serious.

“Ann, just get the fuck out of my house. You’re really starting to get on my nerves.”

“Ooo, classic 'angry and make me storm off’, right? Better, but not good enough.”

“What the hell are you even saying?”

“I’m saying that you could say whatever pops into your bleached head—” she flicks his forehead, viciously sharp nails digging into his skin. “And I wouldn’t go anywhere. You could call me names, or threaten me, or try to hurt me, but I am not going anywhere.”

Her eyes are bright blue, but he can still feel the heat of it like Carmen was inches in front of him. His throat quivers when he swallows. She’s really not going to give in.

“My knee’s been real bad lately,” he relents, making a fist and lightly knocking it against his thigh. “Normally it acts up during bad weather, but the sun hasn’t left in weeks and it still sucks. I didn’t wanna tell anyone, ‘cause I hate talking about…” he trails off, but she doesn’t need him to continue. They both know damn well who he’s referencing.

Ann’s face crumbles. “That’s horrible,” she says, absently rubbing the red mark on his forehead. “I’m sorry I was mean.”

He waves it off, the same way he does whenever his mom asks him if he’s getting enough sleep. “Don’t sweat it. I know how crazy you get.”

It’s a real testament to how worried she must’ve been when she didn't take the olive branch. “I know you probably don’t want to worry the group, but you should tell Akira.”

“Ann—” he starts wearily.

“You know I’m right about this. Now that the Metaverse is back and we’re going to be running around more, he can’t not know about this. Your boyfriend aside, he’s our leader. Something really nasty can happen if we’re not thinking straight.”

“...Sure.”

Ann gives him a weird look. “That was surprisingly easy. I thought you’d complain more.”

She’s getting way too sharp. “What, you wanted me to be a dick about it?”

“I guess not.” Leaning against his kitchen counter, she chews her lip like it’s bubble gum. “Can I do anything to help?”

“Yeah.” Ryuji stands to stretch, ready for this conversation to be over. “You can keep this between us—”

“—Except for Akira,” they say in unison, Ryuji exasperated and Ann insistent.

“Fine. I’ll back off if you think you have it under control.”

“Hallelujah, she’s finally giving me space.”

“But,” her gaze is harder than steel. “Never, ever keep secrets from me again, got it?”

Ryuji rolls his eyes. “Gotcha. Can we get started now? I’m over talking about my horrible past so that we can finally have a straight-out-of-an-anime summer vacation.”

Her eyes brighten up. “Yes! Okay, I made this huge list and I know for a fact we’re gonna have to go for a quick shopping trip—”

“Quick? So, like, three hours going by your standards?”

“Don’t interrupt me. We need to pack some swim trunks, toiletries, and I know you’re worried about your mom so we’ll go grocery shopping for her before we leave in the morning.” Feet tapping excitedly, “This is gonna be so fun. You start packing, I’ll go shopping. Rendezvous in an hour.”

Before he even gets a chance to put a word in, she’s already out the door.

—

Later that night, when everything is messily thrown into one oversized backpack and a rucksack and the fridge is chock full of groceries for his overworked mother, he gets a text.

TA: i know you said not to bring it up but i dont care TA: i searched it up and apparently cold and hot compresses can help with the pain on your knee TA: also getting shoes with really good support would help too. i modeled for some shoe brands, i can def get you some discounts!!! TA: like, i know this is all base level stuff and you know this already, but i bet you we can ask sophia for more help. maybe she can access top secret doctor stuff for knee injuries?? :O

Ryuji stares at his phone for a long moment, before shoving it under his pillow.

Great. Add ‘guilt’ and ‘keeping up with a lie’ to the list of shit he has to worry about.

—

“A lake!” Yusuke cries, kneeling in front of the body of water like a man discovering a desert oasis. Gently, he cups the clean water and cradles it against his cheek. “You are nothing like the garbage-infested sewers in Tokyo. You are crystal clear. You are divine. You are salvation. You are—”

“Akira, Inari’s being a weirdo again,” Futaba points an accusing finger at Yusuke, who’s shirt is slowly absorbing more and more of the water. “At this rate, he’s gonna have to change.”

Makoto grunts as she lugs out the grill singlehandedly, a loud clang ringing out when she nonchalantly sets down a family-sized piece of machinery. “Alright, here it is.” She catches the look of awe that Ryuji’s giving her. “Does it still shock you that I can probably bench press you twice over?”

“I’m just trying to figure out where you’re hiding all that muscle, prez,” he snorts, and it’s the truth. Her and Akira must be the same breed, considering they’re both way too lithe to be this strong. He’s seen the way they throw a punch in the Metaverse—they could probably disintegrate a dude in real life if they really wanted to. Like yeah they workout, but not that much. Maybe they’re dieting too? He’s tried dieting, but ramen is just way too good, even at the expense of muscles.

“Ryuji, when you’re done spacing out, can you grab the ingredients?” Akira calls out.

“Ugh, cut the mind reading dude, it scares the hell out of me.”

He shoots him a signature Kurusu Akira smile; small yet disarming all the same, and it never fails to get Ryuji’s heart to do weird flips. “It’s not mind reading once you realize that I’m just obsessed with you.”

Instead of answering, Ryuji grumbles as he stalks off into the RV. Damn him and his genuine words and compliments.

He pulls out their luggage from underneath the table. Akira doesn’t need to say what ingredients he needs to grab—he’s helped out enough times during Leblanc’s afterhours to know the curry spices by heart. Ryuji might be a failure, but hey, he can do this no problem.

Grabbing bottles and shakers and balancing them on top of his arms like an overworked waiter, he glances left and feels his heart dropped. The envelope from his room—dust-free from rubbing against the rest of his luggage—is sticking out of his backpack. After a quick adjustment, he uses his free hand to shove it deep in his bag, hearing the paper crinkle in on itself.

It was a spur of the moment decision to bring it along with him, one that he’s still half-regretting. Why’d he do it? Maybe he was worried that he might enjoy this trip a little too much? Maybe he was some kind of masochist that likes having his problems and anxiety follow him literally everywhere he goes? Maybe he was scared to hell and back that his mom would find it before he had a chance to tell her himself? Fuck if he knows.

Poking his head out of the door, he yells, “Heads up!”

Throwing a bottle of black pepper, Akira catches it without looking. “Thanks.”

“Don’t sweat it.”

“Too late, I already sweat a little bit.”

Ryuji squints. “It’s sweated. Right, Ann?”

“Don’t look at me. I went to America for modelling, not a spelling bee.”

“I won all my spelling bees in middle school,” Makoto says, chest puffed out in pride.

“Were you the only one who joined?”

“That’s not important.”

Akira’s phone beeps enthusiastically, and Sophia’s voice rings out. “Got it! According to the internet, ‘sweat’ and ‘sweated’ are both grammatically valid. Technically, both Ryuji and Ann are correct.”

“Can we all just shut up for a second about sweating, for the love of god,” Futaba fans her face weakly. “It’s already sooooo hot. I feel like my skin is melting. Yusuke, is my skin melting?”

He looks at her for a moment, peering closely. “Yes.”

“How about we go in for a quick dip in the lake?” Haru offers, and Ryuji suspects that she can feel the same energy that he’s feeling when the group gets like this. “We were all talking about how beautiful it was, and it would cool down Futaba-chan no problem.”

She leans down, swirling her hand in the water. “It’s a little chilly, but it’ll definitely take care of the heat.”

“Good idea!” Futaba jumps up and throws off her shoes, ready to march in. “This is gonna feel so good.”

“Socks!” Akira reminds her.

“I know that!”

Haru and Yusuke follow suit, eager to get away from the heat, Makoto going in to change to shorts. Ryuji guesses it’s probably not an easy feat to roll up leather pants. Probably makes it either to ride motorcycles, or whatever people with leather pants do.

He feels a poke in his side. “You hopping in with them?” Akira asks.

No. The answer is already at the tip of his tongue, ready to roll out. Given how cramped the RV is, keeping up the trademark Sakamoto energy while lugging more baggage than an airport employee is brutal. It’s barely been a day since they started the trip, and he’s not sure how much longer he can keep this up. Already his chest feels heavy with something, and whenever all the windows are rolled up, it gets weirdly hard to breathe. But if he says no, Akira would definitely know something was up.

“Uh—”

“Actually, I think we’ll take over the curry for you,” Ann cuts in.

Ryuji turns to her, startled and wide eyed.

“Why?” Akira asks, just as confused as he is. They both know how much Ann loves being in the middle of things, especially in group hangouts.

“Because you look like you could use a break. I know for a fact that you had to pack Yusuke’s stuff for him, or else the van would’ve had fifteen canvases and an easel, and you had to grocery shop for everyone, and talk Haru out of a guilty spiral because she wasn’t confident enough in her driving. And all this before—” Ann looks down at her wrist to peer at a non-existent watch. “Five o’clock.

He frowns. “Sure, but I’ve done twice as much during our prime. This,” he gestures at the pot. “Is a walk in the park. Thank you, though.”

Ann sighs, heavy and contemplative. “I didn’t want to say it out right, but since you’re being difficult…” She places a hand on his shoulder. “You should hang out with Futaba more. Being gone from her for that long has been rough, and yes, we took care of her while you weren’t there, but you’re different.” Her hand tightens. “You know, Wild Card and all that.”

“That’s not what that means, but I appreciate the effort,” Akira says. Despite his words, it’s clear that what she said bothered him. Eyes flickering to Futaba, enthusiastically kicking the water to see how far the droplets would go, he directs his gaze to Ryuji. “Is it okay if…?”

Ryuji rolls his eyes, pretending like relief isn’t crashing through his body. “Go.”

Akira kisses his cheek. “Thank you.” When he pulls away, he gives Ann a hesitant look.

She grimaces. “Thanks, but no. Go hangout with the gremlin.”

He gives her a salute and saunters off, rolling up his jeans to wade through the water, making sure to splash Futaba on the way there.

After a moment of silence, he sighs. “Fine, I’ll say it. Your acting classes are actually doing you some good.”

“Ha!” she points at him triumphantly. “And you said it’d be a waste of time!”

“I didn’t say that.” Ryuji slouches into a nearby camping chair, the one that Sojiro forced them to lug along, hoping that some of his fatigue would seep away. “We both know that Futaba’s never been better, so what’s up? Why’d you throw out Akira like that?”

“It’s not for me, stupid,” she scoffs, but he can’t help but feel the weight in his chest get even heavier. He sinks even deeper into his chair. “The water was cold, right? That would make your knee even worse.”

“Yeah,” he blinks, having already forgotten the whole fucked-up knee story. “Thanks.”

“I won’t chew you out for not telling Akira, even though I should. But like I said,” she ruffles his hair. “I got your back. I know it must be hard, but you’re still acting all normal. We’re lucky that it’s only affecting you in the real world, too.” She had come up with that one herself, and thank god she did, cause he wouldn’t have known what to say if she had confronted him on how he could easily do flips and sprints in the Metaverse. “That just takes a lot of guts, and even though I know for a fact this would make you feel so much better once you tell him, I trust that you know what you need better than me.”

“Quit trying to look all cool,” he says, and prays to fucking god that the red on his face comes off as embarrassed gratitude rather than earth-shattering guilt. “And aren’t you supposed to be cooking, curry master?”

“Hey, he asked you to do it, not me. I’ll help you get the ingredients, but no way I’m doing the whole cooking shebang.”

“Ugh, fine,” he says, as if he doesn’t secretly love the idea of getting to cook for Akira this time instead of the other way around. Pushing himself up, Ann reaches out to help him. “You don’t gotta baby me, Takamaki.”

“I’ll baby you for as long as I need to, and then eventually Akira will be the one babying you. We come in shifts.”

“I hope you’re unionized.”

Makoto pokes her head out of the RV, wearing a showercap. “Did someone say unionized?”

“What the hell?” Ryuji staggers back in shock. Crap. “How long have you been there?”

“And why are you wearing that?” Ann gasps.

“Not long, and I don’t want my hair getting wet in case I fall in. We have no idea what’s been in here.”

“Were you going to fall in a bathtub?”

“Did you want me to push you in?”

“No, ma’am.”

—

There wasn’t a problem initially. Well, not one in Palaces, anyway. Wait, they’re called Jails now, which is really confusing. Ryuji’s just gonna have to avoid using those words so he doesn’t make himself look like an idiot.

Back in Shibuya, it had been...fine. Attacks landed, punches were dodged, Batons passed like his life depended on it (and it did). Like clockwork, instinct came to him and the weird nostalgic normalcy of fighting Shadows made it bearable.

Ryuji was off his game, and he could tell.

But he was barely off his game. If anything, he still had a foot on his game. Maybe even an entire leg on the game if he was being generous. He was still enough on the game that even Akira doesn’t notice.

But the weird part was, he doesn’t mind the fact that he’s off his game. In an even weirder way, he’s never been more on his game in his entire life.

“There!” Futaba’s voice crackles through the comms. “Uncle is open wide!”

“Her name is Ante, Oracle,” Makoto responds, brass knuckles jammed into the throat of some poor Shadow. “It’s open, but it’s vicious.”

Ryuji calls for Kidd just as she pulls away, wiping out the rest of the weaker ones with ease. “This thing’s like a goddamn mousetrap.” Ante’s serpent body slithering on the cool tiles so fluidly that it gives him the creeps. Her tail has tiny spikes etched into it, like mini knives hot glued onto a tetherball. The minute any of them even come close, she strikes outwards. “How vicious is vicious?”

“Depends on how fast you are.”

Akira’s head jerks up, and when their eyes meet, cracks a smile. “Fast, you say?”

Ryuji grins wider than he has in days. Joker relying on him? How can someone not feel a little giddy at that? “Say no more, leader.”

He stretches quickly, and feels eyes piercing the back of his head. Ann, probably. Shrugging it off, he sprints low towards Ante. As long as Ann doesn’t say a word, there won’t be a problem.

She’s taken hits from where Akira’s been concentrating on her. A mixture of bullet holes in its scales mixed in with cross slashes from where his bless attacks hit had left her delirious and pissed off. When he’s close, she bares her fangs and strikes, only for him to skid on the smooth tiles, rugged hands touching his mask.

“Come on out, Captain!”

His blond hair ruffled from Kidd’s attack, a crack of lightning came down from his Persona’s mangled hand, and a split second later her tail had been sliced clean through. And another crack comes, her neck landing on the tiles with a muffled thud. An attack that should’ve just been enough to incapacitate Ante had instead completely decapitated her.

A beat of silence passed as everyone processed what had happened. Ryuji’s mouth drops open, but he can’t muster any surprise.

He doesn’t know how, or why, but for some reason his attacks have been at least five times as strong as they had been back before the Metaverse was still intact. Moves that he didn’t even know are on the tip of his tongue, as if he had practiced them all his life. Normally this would only happen after rigorous training for months, adding up in tiny increments.

Now it happens every day.

“Well, looks like someone woke up on the right side of the gym today,” Futaba laughs awkwardly.

“What on earth was that, Skull?” Haru asks, eyes wide. “I had never seen you do something like that.”

Morgana’s tail swished. “She makes a good point. When’d you learn that one?”

“I don’t know.” He calls back Captain Kidd, eyeing the drop that Ante had left behind, but doesn’t move forward to snatch it up. “But whatever the reason is, it’s awesome as hell. I mean, did you see that? Sliced that thing open like a stuffed bear.”

“Let’s not bring stuffed animals into this, please,” Makoto frowns.

Akira’s giving him a look again, and it leaves Ryuji unsettled. “What is it, dude? I got something on my face?”

“No,” he steps closer, and his voice drops. “Are you alright?”

“Am I alright? I’ve never been better, man.” He flashes him a grin, hoping that it’s bright enough to distract Akira’s ever-searching eyes. “Come on, let’s get moving. Natsume’s heart isn’t gonna change itself.”

After one last glance, he nods, and Ryuji can see the minute Calculating Joker comes back. “You heard him. Let’s get moving, everyone.”

They all follow him up the stairs, eager to get moving past the eternally bleary and uncreatively written setting of Natsume’s Jail.

“Psst!” Ryuji hisses at Ann, who turns to him with a question in her eyes. “Panther! Get your ass over here!”

“What?” she whispers back.

He rubs the back of his neck. “I fucked up my knee when I rushed her, and I still haven’t told Joker, so do you mind…?”

An expected look of disapproval emerges from her expression, and Ryuji hurries to beat her to the punch. “I know, I know! But I can’t tell him in the middle of all this, now can I?”

“Fine,” she grumbles before calling Carmen. “I’ll cover you for now, but only ‘cause I’m a good friend and I’m super cute.”

“Yeah, the cutest, prettiest, whatever.” He glances over to Akira, swooping down to grab Ante’s drops before heading up. “Quick, before he looks back.”

Diarama washes over him, and even though relief floods through his body, he can feel a bead of sweat running down his temple. He’s not sure if it’s from her inherent heat or from the stress of lying to her again.

“Better?” Ann asks.

“Way better. Thanks.” He catches Sophia looking at them curiously. “The kid’s watching us. You better move ahead before she starts analyzing our personality types or something.”

Her eyes light up. “You think she’d do it if I asked? I really wanna know.”

“Just go!”

Ann hurries to catch up to Sophia, and while she’s distracted, Ryuji gently rolls up sleeves—he had gotten nicked by Ante as he slid. Normally that wouldn’t have been a problem; he had gotten thrown through walls, been hit by mini hurricanes, been blown up by a boat, and walked away from all that still swinging.

Yet lately, any tiny, fractional, miniscule injury is enough to shoot unbearable pain throughout his entire body. It’s as if he was back in Kamoshida’s Palace, where every punch thrown at him had been life or death.

Glancing down at his forearm, he sighs. The cut was gone, but he can’t keep asking Ann to heal him in secret every time.

“Skull?”

Hurriedly pulling down his sleeve, he glances up to see Akira standing in front of him.

“Everyone’s waiting for you,” he says casually, as if those words don’t mean the entire goddamn world to Ryuji. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah,” he answers, shaking his head. “My bad. Let’s go.”

They clambered up the staircase, and Ryuji decides that all of that stuff—getting injured and having it hurt like hell—just isn’t too important.

That just means that he’ll be fine as long as he doesn't get hit, and he’s had plenty of experience dodging punches that were thrown at him before.

—

“Cheers!”

All of them raise their red plastic cups, clinking it against each other in a way that they see adults do all the time on TV. Apple juice and iced tea slosh as they gulp it down eagerly, excitement so prevalent that they can hardly taste the cheap, convenience store-esque quality of their drink.

“This isn’t too bad,” Makoto muses, leaning against the faux-leather seats of the RV. “Though it would probably taste better if it wasn’t room temperature.”

“Does it look like this place has a mini fridge?” Futaba says, legs swinging down from her top bunk. “That’s a good idea though. I should’ve bought mine from home. Can you imagine we’re halfway through a six hour road trip and you want iced coffee and boom! Two feet behind you is Futaba’s Ice Cold Cafe, one hundred yen per use.”

“I hope you’d be ready to sleep on it, because this place is cramped enough as is,” Akira slaps the wall a few times, the way a rancher would a sturdy horse. “We’re lucky with what we have.”

“I know that! Without this thing we never would have been able to conquer Natsume’s Jail.” She reaches down to muss Yusuke’s hair. “I’m sure Inari feels good about that.”

He smiles, hair sticking up in all directions. “Of course I feel satisfied. Though I understand his struggle, being able to stop a fellow artist into becoming a true monster is always something that will bring me joy. Justice will never stop feeling good.”

“Cheers to that!” Ann raises her drink. “And you know what? This wouldn’t have been possible had Ryuji not kicked some major ass in that Jail.”

The group whoops and hoots loudly, and Ryuji can’t help but scoff when Ann winks at him. “Aw guys, you’re making me blush. I’m fucking awesome, sure, but we’re all pretty amazing.”

Haru shakes her head. “She’s right, Ryuji-kun. WIthout you, defeating dragon Natsume would’ve been much more difficult.”

“Even I can admit that you’ve gotten much stronger, Skull.” Morgana leaps onto the table, licking up the bowl of apple juice that Haru had left him. It feels wrong to let an animal drink that, but he’d never say anything about it. “Have you been training?”

Ryuji shrugs. “Yeah, a little.”

“Ooo, look at Mr. Humble all of a sudden,” Futaba jeers.

“I’m always humble!”

Ann grimaces. “I don’t think so. Remember when you finally got Akira to go on a date with you—”

“How dare you. He was begging me to go on a date with him—”

“And you wouldn’t stop telling us about how you had nabbed the coolest guy in Tokyo—”

Ryuji nearly jumps over the booth to put a hand on her mouth. “Quit yammering, Takamaki, I’m begging you.” He feels something slimy on his hand, and pulls back quickly. “Ew, did you lick me?! That’s so effing gross.”

“You’re gross.”

He feels a hand on the small of his back, warm and familiar. “I don’t think you’re gross, Ryuji,” Akira says. “I think you’re very clean.”

A harmonic beep rings through the air. “Sorry to interrupt,” Sophia’s clear voice cuts in. “But Akira, you got an email.”

“Thanks Sophie.” He points to where his phone is perched on the windowsill, propped up so she can see them celebrate their victory. “Can you…?”

Ryuji wordlessly passes it to him as everyone breaks off into smaller conversations, chatter blending into each other until it sounds like the kind of white noise he would queue up when he’s desperate to get some studying done. Immediately, Akira begins scanning through his phone, gray eyes focused.

He props his head against his shoulder to read alongside him and makes a noise of interest. “You signed up for cram school?” he asks, surprised.

“I did,” he replies, thumbing through the details of his admission.

Ryuji stares at him. “But you’re so fucking smart. Why are you paying who knows what to learn shit you already know?”

“Because Tokyo U barely cracks a 30% admission rate, and chemistry is hell incarnate.” With one last few clicks, he sets his phone down with a wince. “Sure is expensive though. We might have to reform the heart of someone in the education committee.” When he continues to stare at him wordlessly, Akira turns to him. “Don’t worry, I’m still leeching off of the Thieves' money from last year, so it’s not too bad when you take into account my part-time back home.”

“No, that’s not—I’m just—” he shakes his head and forces himself to start over. “Since when did you decide on Tokyo University?”

It’s Akira's turn to look taken aback. “What do you mean? You’d never leave Tokyo, especially if it meant leaving your mom.”

“That’s not the point. The point is I’m making you choose between me and your hometown!” he exclaims, but he already knows in his heart what Akira’s choice is going to be. It’s stupidly obvious. For some reason, the longer this conversation goes on, the tighter his chest feels.

The feeling doubles when Akira’s eyes, always focused and always sharp, subdued at his words. “Are you really comparing yourself to that place? You know I’d choose you over anything.” He reaches forward and combs through Ryuji’s hair, hushed and gentle in a way that only Akira can manage. “I’m so excited to live life with you again.”

The white noise, so comfortable before, abruptly turns overwhelmingly loud—grating and unbearable and painful to be around. Ryuji stands abruptly, barely reacting to Futaba’s yelp when he backs into her.

“Hey! What gives?”

“I…” his eyes dart around, flinching when he accidentally makes eye contact with Akira, and again when he locks eyes with Ann.

The sudden silence from the group is somehow worse than the noise from before, and if the tightness in his chest gets any more painful, his lungs are gonna burst into a million pieces and he’s not gonna be able to pick it all up from the ground if everyone’s watching.

“Trash,” he blurts out.

“What?” Makoto blinks, glancing up from her map.

“This place is disgusting and it’s way too cluttered and it’s bad to leave such a big mess so I’m gonna—” Ryuji grabs the plastic bag filled with garbage, haphazardly tossing empty cans and plastic cups into it. “I’ll be back. Don’t wait up.”

Before they can question him, he’s already out of the RV, towing trash and leaving his friends behind him.

—

“What the fuck was that?!” Ryuji screams into the sky.

He was far enough from the trailer that he knew they couldn’t hear him even if they had strained their ears, and it was late enough into the night that even the tourists weren’t poking around to look at the shrines or the Great Masamune himself.

“Keep it a secret’, my ass! That was the second dumbest thing—no, the third dumbest thing you’ve ever done in your entire life. Do you know how high that threshold is, Sakamoto? High! Higher than you can see with your own two eyes! Higher than Yaldabaoth’s goddamn crane-sized spine!”

Swooping down, he grabs a fistful of pebbles and throws it as hard as he can. “You are so selfish! What happened to keeping ‘Kira happy, you effing asshole?” Relishing in how far it went, he takes another two more. “You are so annoying. You are—” he throws, the rocks landing with a little plink. “Insufferable. Stupid. Selfish. A fucking—” this time, he doesn’t even know where it lands. “Gah!”

Turning on his heel, he glares up at the statue and grits his teeth when he sees Masamune’s stoic expression. “Don’t give me that look—you’re dead. You ain’t got nothing to complain about. Everyone’s remembering you as the guy who saved Japan, or whatever. But guess what? You’re probably a loser. A dumb, stupid loser who convinced everyone that you’re good for something when you’re worth jack shit!”

Before he can stop himself, he takes the garbage bag full of cans, glass bottles, and crumpled chip bags and hurls it at Masamune. It hits the base of the statue, far below damaging the One-Eyed Dragon himself, but the glass cracks under the force of being thrown, tearing through the plastic and causing trash and shards to explode all over the steps. Ryuji’s chest is heaving as he stares down at what he’s done.

“Impressive.”

He whirls around at the voice behind him, stomach lurching straight to the ground when he sees who it was. “In his years of war, I doubt that anyone’s ever tried throwing waste in his direction in order to defeat him.”

“Yusuke,” he breathes, feeling his frustration draining away to make room for even more guilt, if that was even possible. Ryuji cannot possibly look any more of an asshole than he does right now—tearing his throat raw in a public space, surrounded by the garbage he had thrown at a national monument in front of a guy who clearly worships and respects art that’s old as hell. “Sorry, I’ll clean it up, I promise. I was just…” he hesitates. “Talking to myself.”

Yusuke hums, unconvinced, and carefully approaches the mess in front of him. Ryuji waves him off. “No, don’t. Broken glass is a bitch, especially the little pieces. If that gets in your skin, it’s game over. You’d have to go into the hospital for sure.” He grimaces. “Trust me. My dad used to throw beer bottles at our place like he was in a ball game, and that ain’t fun, I promise you that.”

“I see.” Turning around, Ryuji hoped that he was magically going to head back to the group and not mention this to anyone there, but instead Yusuke stopped in front of a water fountain. “You’re right. If you’re not careful, it could be very easy to hurt yourself when dealing with broken glass.” Pulling out a handkerchief from his breast pocket in a way that only Yusuke can, he soaks it in water before crouching down at the shards glimmering under moonlight. “But if you use wet fabric to dab it on the shards itself—” he pats the concrete and flips the fabric over, revealing the moist and glistening pieces stuck on its side. “You can clean up the pieces with little to no danger.”

“Huh.” After a moment, he realizes that he’s making Yusuke do the dirty work for him. “Pass me that. Thanks for the tip, but I can take it from here. I mean,” he rubs the back of his neck. “It’s totally my fault that the glass is here anyway.”

He doesn’t look up from his task, eyes focused and movement meticulous. “No need. If you’d like to help, you can start picking up the non-dangerous litter around us.”

Ryuji does as he’s told, wincing as he has to pick up sticky, pop-soaked wrappers with his bare hands but he doesn’t complain. Karmic retribution has never held back against him. “The glass thing,” he starts, squatting down and picking up empty cans and plastic utensils with curry remnants still stuck to them. “They teach you that in Kosei?”

“No, from one of Madarame’s past pupils actually.” Yusuke shifts over to dab at another glass-covered section, concrete looking clearer with every pat. “Sensei had a rather violent habit of hurling canvases at the wall if they do not meet his standards, and his actions had led to many of our more fragile belongings being shattered when he did.” His tone doesn’t change, but Ryuji can see his shoulders tighten. “At least it allowed me to move away from that house very quickly, considering I had very little to pack away.”

Ryuji opens his mouth to comfort him. Instead, he finds himself speaking in a low tone. “Glad that bastard is rotting in jail,” he resists the urge to spit on the ground. “Then afterwards, I hope he rots in hell, just to really cover all of our bases.”

That pulls a chuckle out of Yusuke. “Thank you,” he smiles, and all Ryuji can do is nod. There isn’t much you can say after that without making it weird. But how weirder can it possibly get when the two of you are off towing around someone’s perception of the world on a daily basis?

They continue to work in silence; the wind is gentle, but it’s enough to rustle the leaves and allow Ryuji to feel some relief from the summer heat. He’s picking up wet paper tissues, and it’s gross, but it’s nice to be doing something with his hands.

He’s just about done his part of the clean-up when he can’t take it anymore. “Aren’t you gonna ask?”

“No,” Yusuke answers without looking up. That’s another thing that Ryuji really appreciates about him—playing dumb has never been something that he’s done to get out of an awkward situation. To be fair though, Yusuke himself is an awkward situation.

“Why not?”

“Did you want me to?”

That question makes him pause, and Yusuke doesn’t wait for an answer. “You’ve always been the most vocal in the group, and while many a time it has been our downfall in terms of secrecy, I have always considered it one of your strong points. And if you, Sakamoto Ryuji, are indeed struggling with using your words,” Yusuke’s eyes turn to him. “Then it must be very difficult to talk about.”

A beat passes. “No,” Ryuji mutters. “I don’t want you to ask.”

“Then I won’t,” he says easily. “But I do have a question.”

“Lay it on me.”

Yusuke shuffles to crouch down next to him, and it’s kinda weird seeing someone as elegant as him pose like some kind of hoodlum. “Does Akira know about your struggle?”

His mind flashes back to the confused look back in the RV and he scratches his neck roughly. “I bet he does now.”

Yusuke leans back, shocked. “He doesn’t know?”

“I’m getting there! Don’t pressure me, man. You said it yourself, I’m fucking struggling.”

“Well, yes, I did say that, but it’s Akira,” he says the name almost reverently. “I’d be surprised if he doesn’t sense that something is askew.”

“I just said that, didn’t I? Goddamn, you and Ann are just two of the same peas in the same freaking pond, aren’t you?”

“It’s ‘pod’, Ryuji,” he corrects. “Ann is aware?”

“She—” Ugh, how does he explain that she thinks she knows, but really he had lied about what he told her? “She basically knows.” And because his fat mouth just keeps getting fatter, “She’s sort of part of the problem.”

Yusuke’s eyes widen and Ryuji hurries to cover up for his mistake. “She’s not a problem, it’s just that I didn’t explain…It’s really my fault, and how I deal with internal shit, you know what I’m saying? And Ann’s just kind of in the crossfire, so what ended up happening is when I talk to her about what I’m feeling, I end up just feeling worse.” He winces. First he lies to her and now he’s shit-talking her? “I did not say that. What I really mean is that, uh, feelings...and actions...are complicated,” he finishes weakly.

“I see,” he says finally.

It seems that even Yusuke has a threshold for uncomfortable moments, because he rises to his feet. “Thank you for sharing all of that with me.”

“Uh, yeah, for sure. Thanks for the glass trick.”

“No need to mention it. It’s much easier to clean up a mess when you have someone helping you.” He points vaguely behind himself, “Would you like to head back together? I’m sure by now the festivities are winding down, and the trash you were so keen on disposing of has definitely been thrown away.”

Ryuji blanches. It grossed him out that he forgot he was holding an armful of garbage in his hand. “You go ahead. I just need to,” he rocks his arms, almost cradling the wet garbage. “Throw this out.”

“Very well. I’ll see you when you get back, then.”

He waves at him, and Ryuji wiggles in response (unless he wants it all hitting the ground and restarting that whole process again, which, no thanks.) After dumping it all into a nearby trash can, the process of which lasts several minutes since he still had to sort out the recycling, he feels a buzz in his pocket.

KA: come back when you can KA: i miss you

He takes a shaky breath.

SR: on my way

#p5 #p5s #ryuji sakamoto #akiryu #mine #fic tag #plainly in truth #akira kurusu #pegoryu #happy birthday ryuji this ones for you

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gyll-yee-haw · 4 years

Text

The most brilliant student

Professor! Beck smut

*Important*: I don't write for Tom or Peter, unless it's just teasing like this one. I'm loyal to daddy Jake and his characters only

Prompt: Mr. Beck is not pleased to see his most brilliant student flirting with someone else.

Warnings: teacher x student (legal and consensual), daddy kink, oral, masturbation, a little degradation, fucking in front of someone else

Like 2.7k words!

---

Peter was never able to hide the massive crush he had on you. You knew about it. But both of you agreed to be just friends. You would always tell him that he was too young for you, and he laughed, thinking it was some lame excuse.

Little did he know that you loved another man. And that the man was your physics professor, Mr. Beck. It was nothing but a platonic love, but your head kept playing tricks on you, trying to make you believe that there was a certain tension between the two of you.

Mr. Beck loved to praise you. He told all other students that they should work hard like you did. You always got the best grades in his class, you always knew the answers to his questions, you always came up with brilliant projects... Anyone could tell he was impressed by you.

But the situation became unbearable at some point. You started to dream about him, touch yourself thinking about him… You couldn't even pay attention to his classes anymore. You had to do something about it. And you weren't the kind of person who would give up without trying.

As the days passed, you started to tease Mr. Beck. At first, you would simply put on sexy outfits, drop things in front of him on purpose, make suggestive gestures around him. And more than once you caught him staring. It was working. But you needed to pressure him enough to make him yours.

And nothing makes a man like him want you more than seeing that someone else had you…

---

Peter's eyes widened when you sat on his lap.

"Y/N?"

"Shhh…" You looked at the door. Mr. Beck should arrive at any minute. "Just one moment, I promise."

When the professor walked into the classroom, his eyes landed directly on you, as usual. But this time, instead of smiling at him, you quickly turned your face to Peter, who was really confuse under you.

You waited until he started his class to finally go to your seat, beside Peter's.

"That was very nice, Y/N." Peter whispered to you. "But will you tell me what was that for?"

"For fun." You shrugged.

You and Peter continued talking for a few minutes, and whenever you looked at your professor, he pretended he didn't have his eyes glued to both of you. Until he had enough.

"Are you willing to share with the class what's so funny, miss Y/L/N?" Mr. Beck finally said. God, he looked furious.

"I'm sorry, professor." You bit your lip, trying to control your laughter. "It's not important."

"I know it's not important." His hands gripped so hard the paper he was reading, that it looked like it would rip at any moment. "It looks like nothing is important to you. You act like you weren't sitting where millions of other students would love to sit, and they wouldn't waste their opportunity like you're doing. I would like to see you after class."

"Both of us?" Peter asked, ashamed.

"I don't remember mentioning your name." The professor turned his eyes back to the paper. "Just her."

The boy sent you an apologetic look. But you couldn't help but smirk. That was all you wanted from the start, and you worked hard to get it. You would show him that you know how to enjoy your opportunities.

You never waited so eagerly for the bell. When it finally rang, you didn't move. Just watched the class getting empty, until there was only you and him. When everyone left, he sat on his chair and you approached his table, feeling your heart beating fast.

"What's going on?" He asked, without looking at you, just keeping his eyes on the table. "You used to be the best student in class. Why are you acting like that now?"

"Because I wanted your attention, Mr. Beck." You admited shily.

"You had my attention." He felt his stomach sink. "You had every teacher's attention, actually. You know… Tony Stark often looks for interns here. And you were the first on the list."

"But that's not the attention I wanted." You said, walking around the table to stand in front of him.

His eyes finally left his papers and traveled your body. Starting on your exposed thighs, stopping on your eyes.

"Be careful what you say next." He sighed. "Or I might have to put you in your place."

"Do it." You challenged him.

"Do what?" He stood up and spoke on a raspy tone, towering you. "Risk my job because of a little slut like you? I'm so disappointed. Do you know how many girls did the same, begging for a good grade? You don't need that, your grades are the best. So what do you want?"

"Did you fuck them?" You heard your voice crack a bit.

"Tempting." He shrugged. "But I didn't."

"But I'm not like them." You didn't take a step back when he approached you.

"I know." He said, lifting your chin with his hand and keeping his face dangerously close to yours. "You're in love. You're worse than them."

You didn't say anything. His lips only got closer and closer to yours, when they were close enough for you to feel his heat, he grabbed your face and turned your head to your left, making you gasp.

"I will not allow this behaviour in my class again." He said against your ear. "Tomorrow I want you to sit on the first row and dress up like a decent person, are we clear?"

His hand left your face, but you could still feel his grip, so you rubbed your cheeks while you watched him putting his stuff on his bag and leaving without looking back.

---

On the next day, you didn't want to go to college. You couldn't believe he told you that you were nothing but another slutty student trying to get laid. Your head kept repeating his words: "You're in love. You're worse than them."

On the other hand... You finally got his attention. And he didn't kick you out of his class, he actually told you to sit closer to him. He was playing your game, whether he knew it or not.

You jumped out of bed and searched for something to wear. You found a dress. A normal dress, it wasn't too short or anything. It wasn't about what you were going to wear, but how.

---

You left your house in a hurry and was relieved to see you were the first to arrive in your class. You took another look around, just to be sure you were alone. So you slid your hands under your dress and removed your panties, carefully placing them inside the drawer where Mr. Beck kept his pens. You didn't leave a note, or anything. He would know it was yours.

So you ran to your seat and opened a book at a random page, to pretend you were busy. But as the time passed, the heat between your legs only grew, imagining his face when he opened that drawer.

The class started to get crowded, and everyone took a quick look at you, probably remembering what happened yesterday. But, fuck, they had no idea what happened yesterday. And they knew even less about what was going to happen now.

Professor Beck walked in and started to give his lecture. He only looked at you once, to be sure you were sitting where he told you to. After that, he avoided you. The tension

increased everytime he stepped close to the drawer, but he never opened it.

At some point, he needed to write something down. Your legs were shaking in anticipation.

"Anne?" He called the girl sitting right beside you. "Can I borrow a pen for a second?"

The girl eagerly handed him the pen. You could see by the way she was acting that she was one of the girls who tried to seduce him before.

"Thanks, honey." He whispered, giving back her pen after writing something down.

You felt your face heating up. Honey?! You felt so stupid. All you wanted to do was walk to his desk, get your underwear back and leave that place.

You sat there angrily until you heard the bell. As soon as you did, you stood up and started to shove everything in your bag as fast as possible.

He noticed what you were doing, and walked towards you.

"You stay." He whispered.

"Excuse me, professor." You said loudly. "I can't be late for my next class."

"If you don't explain yourself, you'll get expelled." He said, making sure no one else was listening. "Is your stupid game still funny?"

You felt your heart stop for a second. What was he talking about? He never opened the drawer.

This time, when the classroom was empty, he pulled you by the arm, leading you to his desk. He opened the drawer and pulled your underwear out.

"What the fuck is this?" He squeezed it in his hand.

"How would I know?" You raised your eyebrows. "Anne probably forgot it there the last time you fucked her."

"Oh, yeah?" He chuckled. "Then why did I see you doing this through the security camera this morning? You're lucky I deleted the tape."

"Why?" You asked, embarrased. "Don't you want me to get expelled?"

"Of course not." He threw your panties back in the drawer and closed it. "You're the most brilliant student I ever had. You only have this tiny problem… You're a bit of a whore, aren't you?"

"Mr. Beck… I…" You felt your pussy throb and prayed he wouldn't play you like the day before.

"Yes, you are." He brought his finger to your cheek, caressing it. "If I told you to get down on your knees right now and suck my cock you would, wouldn't you? Even though you're getting nothing in return."

"Yes, sir." You almost moaned, melting into his touch.

"Then get under my desk." He said, sitting on his chair. "We're expecting guests, hope you don't mind."

You hesitated for a second, but you knew he wouldn't risk his job, so you didn't worry about the guests. You got on your knees and crawled under his table. He moved the chair closer to the desk and removed his belt, unzipped his pants and pulled his cock out.

"Did I make you this hard, Mr. Beck?" You smirked.

"Yes, princess." He chuckled. "But there's no need to call me Mr. Beck here. You can call me daddy."

"Fuck." You whispered and looked at as cock, then at his face, waiting for approval.

On the second he nodded, you wrapped your lips around his head and started to lick him real good. You made eye contact with him and your tongue trailed down his length, and you opened your mouth, sucking his balls until he was a moaning mess. He reached for your hair and pulled your head back, grabbing his dick with the other hand and shoving it in your mouth.

"Ah, yes. Come in." Mr. Beck said, and you heard footsteps approaching, but kept taking him deeper in your mouth.

"Did you want to see me, professor?"

When you heard Peter's voice, you gagged.

"Easy, baby." Quentin patted your head, not giving a fuck about Peter's presence. "Take your time."

"Mr. Beck..." Peter said, turning red when he looked down and reconized your shoes under the table. "I can come back later."

"No, you're here just in time." He rested his hand on your head and stroked your hair gently as you started to move your head up and down. "Come here, take a look at this beauty."

Peter took a look under his desk and smirked. He smirked? You thought he would be hurt… That's why you never told him about your plan.

"You really are a slut, aren't you?" Peter asked, looking you in the eyes.

"Yes, she is." Mr. Beck said, since your mouth was busy. "But here's the thing… Yes, baby girl, fuck…"

He lost focus as you started sucking on his most sensitive area. So he pulled your hair, forcing you to stop.

"Here's the thing, Mr. Parker." He continued. "She's my most brilliant student. Mine. You don't get to touch her, are we clear? Cause if I see you touching my stuff again, you're expelled."

"Yes, sir…" He said a little uncomfortable.

"Good." He moved his chair so you could get up and grabbed your hand, helping you stand up. "Wanna touch yourself as you watch me fuck her now, Parker?"

Peter nodded eagerly.

"Is that okay for you, baby?" Beck asked you, stroking your face one more time.

"Yes, daddy." You smiled at him and Peter's jaw dropped.

"Good girl." He said. "Look at how fast you learn, my most brilliant student."

He helped you sit on his desk and you spread your legs. He slid his hand under your dress and started playing with your clit, making you moan loudly.

"That's right." He said, as he watched Peter taking his cock out. "She's not wearing any panties. Because she put them in my drawer today, can you believe this little brat?"

"I'm sorry, daddy!" You screamed as he rubbed you hard.

"Fuck." Peter said, stroking his cock just as fast.

"What?" Beck smirked. "Does it turn you on when she says 'daddy'?"

Peter nodded.

"Why don't you call him daddy too?" The professor asked you.

"Don't want to." You bit your lip and looked him in the eyes. "You are my daddy, just you."

"What a fucking good girl." He grabbed his cock and entered you at once. "All you needed was a little attention, isn't that right, baby?"

You held to the desk as he started to thrust fast and deep inside you. All while Peter kept his eyes glued to the two of you and pumped himself.

The three of you continued like that for a few more minutes, moans coming from everyone filling the room.

Peter was the first to come. When you saw him coming all over his hands, you started playing with your clit, but Mr. Beck removed your hand and started rubbing it with his fingers.

"Harder, daddy." You threw your head back. "I'm so close..."

"Come on my cock, princess." He said, rubbing you so hard and fucking you so fast. "Show your friend who you belong to."

You came moaning something close to "I belong to you, Mr, Beck." And he came right after you.

After he removed his cock, he watched his cum dripping from your hole on the table. He collected it with his fingers and shoved them in your mouth.

"You may leave now, Mr. Parker." He said, not taking his eyes off you as you sucked his fingers. "Just remember what will happen if I see you laying a finger on her again."

"Yes, sir." Peter fixed his clothes and left, looking at the floor.

You looked at your professor with a smile on your face and love in your eyes. There was no way you would forget him now.

"Only my best student gets to sit on my desk." He told you. "Don't forget that. Keep your grades impeccable, and one day you and I will work together. You have a bright future."

"If I'm a good student…" You asked shily. "Will we do this again?"

"You don't seem like a very good student right now." He shrugged. "You probably missed two or three classes today."

"Sorry, sir." You got off his table and grabbed your bag, walking towards the door quickly. "Wait… My panties?"

"Confiscated." He smirked.

---

Tags:

@thirstybitchtm (thank you for the request!)

@charmed-asylum

#jake gyllenhaal #jake gyllenhaal smut #tom holland #tom holland smut #quentin beck x you #quentin beck x y/n #quentin beck #quentin beck x reader #quentin beck smut #mysterio smut #mysterio #mysterio x y/n #mysterio x reader #mysterio x you #peter parker smut #quentin x peter

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abalonetea · 3 years

Text

Just Keep Breathing: Chapter One

I was partnered with @the-dot for the @originalfictionbigbang! Thank you for working with me, Dot!

Here is the first chapter! I’ve split the first 10k words between four chapters, and will be posting them all in a masterpost in just a moment!

Summary: It’s the height of storm season and everyone in Hi-Banks, Florida is getting ready for the bad weather. It should be a year like any other - but on the tails of a national pandemic, a new disaster strikes. More than one new disasters. So many disasters that Eddie Carver would like to put some of them back, thanks. He’s just a down on his luck guy living in the local trailer park with his boyfriend. He’s not interested in dealing with the revival of an old murder case - which he knows nothing about, thanks -, the storm season of the century, or…zombies?

Yeah. Absolutely not interested in the zombies.

This black-comedy follows the inner workings of a small town as they band together to survive, and the young man - reckless, mean, angry, written off b the big city folk come to look into a cold case - that might hold all of societies survival in his hands.

Forget about society. Eddie’s only interested in keeping his friends alive.

Chapter One – Hi Banks Florida

“ - increased reports of unprecedented aggression all across New York City. This is following in the wake of Mayor Alex Grand’s assault on his wife. These attacks have increased nearly ten fold in the wake of the recent vaccine’s release, prompting many to wonder if the vaccine was released too soon – should more tests have been done? Could this be a side effect of it? We have reached out to the head of the FDA, Doctor - “

The television goes to pure static, a hissing crackle of black and white fuzz. Eddie groans. “Seriously? I was watchin’ that!”

“Guess you ain’t watching it now,” says Carson, draping himself over the back of the couch. He curls an arm around Eddie’s chest, pinning him against the back of the couch. “You should be at work, anyway.”

“Penny don’t got work for me today.”

“Then you should be out working on the truck. I’m sick of walking to the docks.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. He shifts, leaning up and wrapping his own arms around Carson’s neck, tugging until his boyfriend is leaning down enough that Eddie can kiss him. “I can’t fix the truck ‘till we get a part mailed in. Penny let me use the work account.”

“Bullshit,” says Carson. “You just don’t want too.”

“It ain’t bullshit. It’s, uh, truth shit.”

“Wow.” Carson shakes off Eddie’s grip. “You worked hard on that one, huh? Whatever, don’t work on the truck. I’ve got actual work to get too.”

Eddie twists, pulling himself up so he can drape over the back of the couch. “Gonna rain today. Take an extra shirt.”

Carson says, “sure, I’ll put it in the truck so it stays dry. Oh, wait.”

And, okay, so Eddie kind of deserves that one. The truck hasn’t been running for almost a week now. This isn’t the first time that it’s stopped working. Carson bought it straight out of the local junkyard five years back, and it’s pretty much held together with duck tape – literally – and chewing gum – which might be the next step.

Eddie really is waiting on the part to come in.

The problem is that he sort of forgot to order it until yesterday.

Drooping, Eddie makes a disgruntled sound. “I’ll see if I can’t fudge it, okay? Just, I dunno, don’t get hit by lightning. The storm’s supposed to be nasty.”

“Great.” Carson shoves on one boot, then the other. “So we’re going to have no power tonight.”

“I’ll fill the tub.”

“Summer sucks ass.”

“Florida sucks ass,” corrects Eddie.

Carson thinks on it, then bobs his head in agreement. “Yeah, okay. Let’s go with that one.”

“You gonna be home for - “ The television bursts back into being with a crackle of too loud sound. Eddie swears.

The woman on TV reads off, “ - no official links between the two. Gerald Harbrinks has been arrested today for the most bizarre case of armed robbery the county has ever seen, in which he dropped his gun and instead chose to bite the cashier - “

Eddie mutes it. “Sorry. One’a these days we need to get actual cable.”

“Yeah, when toads fly,” says Carson. “You doing dinner?”

Eddie thinks about what they have in the pantry. Not much, but probably enough to throw at least half a meal together. He’s better at cooking and coming up with things than Carson is. “Yeah. You going to be back before dark?”

Carson shrugs. “How should I know? They never tell me anything. I might not even have to stay if it rains.”

“Babe, if it rains, they’re gonna make you stay out of spite, and you know it,” says Eddie, because the guy who runs the docks is kind of an ass.

Carson grunts. “Thanks for the reassurance.”

“No problem.” Eddie shuts the TV off all the way and finally pries himself up off of the couch. “So, dinner, unless we lose power. We’ll have to hit up Red’s. He’s got that grill or whatever.”

He sways his way over to his boyfriend, plasters himself against Carson’s front and schmoozes his way in for a kiss. Carson curls an arm around him for a moment, then makes a face. “Come on, man. I gotta at least get down there before the rain starts or I won’t make shit.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” says Eddie. “Get outta here. Don’t get drowned or nothing.”

* * *

Hi Banks, Florida is the sort of place you’re born into, you slog through, and then you die in. And mostly, the people are okay with that. Why leave a good thing, right? Or maybe it’s more that the people born into Hi Banks just have a hard time getting together the chance to leave.

The trailer park is on the backside of town, filled up with old mobile homes and trailers parked up on cinder blocks. The paths between homes flood any time it rains and Eddie makes a point of sloshing his way through the puddles until the inside of his sneakers are soaked and his stained up jeans are covered in mud. Splash! Slosh! Splat!

The Calloway’s have added a new pick up truck to the collection of cars sitting out front. Eddie would bet it’s like the rest of their vehicles and the engine doesn’t actually roll over. Not that he can say too much on that front, considering his own truck.

If there’s any chance that he can trick the thing into running, he needs another quart of oil and – well, it is his fault that Carson’s going to have to walk home in the rain later, so Eddie figures he’ll pick up a box of swiss rolls while he’s out. Swiss rolls are Carson’s favorite.

Sweets in general are his favorite, but whatever.

So he sloshes his way through the trailer park and out onto the long, main road that cuts through the center of town. If you keep going long enough in one direction, it will take you to the highway. Keep going long enough in the other, you’ll hit the swamps.

There’s just the one commercially owned grocery store in the whole town. The parking lot is mostly empty, which isn’t a surprise considering it’s the middle of a Monday, and also about to cut loose. The wind’s started to pick up and everything, clouds dark and violent overhead. Eddie scurries into the shop, muttering a brief ‘hey’ to Annie Green when he passes her counter and heads towards the back.

Fitz is curled over the meat case muttering under his breath to himself, which is less unusual than it sounds. Eddie opts not to wave at him, and instead just goes for the cake aisle. It’s so picked over that it’s ridiculous. There aren’t any swiss rolls so he grabs the oatmeal cookies instead.

No doubt that the milk and bread aisles are already empty, to go with the alarmingly small amount of paper product. Up at the check out, he asks Anne, “you seen Roy come in yet today? He owes me ten bucks.”

“Nope.” The machine beeps when Anne scans the box of cookies. “Is Ftiz still back at the meat? I swear, he’s been in here for an hour.”

“Yeah. Maybe he’s stocking up on it.”

“Even Fitz isn’t stupid enough to stock up on meat right before we’re due for hurricane season.” Anne holds out her hand and Eddie fishes a crumpled five from his back pocket to pass over. “You talk to him?”

“Nope.”

Anne heaves out a sigh. “Great. Guess I can walk back and deal with it. If he’s drunk - “

“If he’s drunk, call his wife. She’ll have his ass for drinking that much this early in the day.”

Anne snorts. “Yeah, she will.”

Eddie shifts from one foot to the next, peering out the glass front doors. It’s still raining hard outside. “You think this is gonna light up any time soon?”

“Supposed to rain all evening. I’m surprised that they haven’t canceled work at the docks,” says Anne.

“Ugh. Great. Just, double bag them, I guess. I have to walk back in this.”

Anne doubles the bag and Eddie steps back out into the deluge. He’s soaked in a matter of minutes.

* * *

“Fucking Hell!” Eddie shakes himself off as he steps into the trailer. He fumbles around in the dark for the first few minutes, stripping out of his sodden clothes and down to his equally sodden boxers. Still swearing, he drops the bag of soaked oatmeal cookies onto the counter and flips on the light switch for the kitchen.

Nothing happens.

Eddie swears louder.

There’s the sound of something shuffling about from the bedroom. Eddie grabs the natty tea towel off the front of the stove handle and uses it to wipe off his face. “That you, babe?”

No answer. The shuffling sound gets closer. Eddie rolls his eyes and attempts to pat himself dry with the hand towel. It has a mixed amount of success in actually accomplishing anything.

“I got you cookies. They should be dry. Cause of the plastic and stuff?”

Still no answer. Eddie mutters under his breath. Fine, he’ll just have the cookies himself.

He pops open the plastic wrapper and pulls out a handful of them, carrying them over to the couch – where he finds Carson stretched out, massive headphones in, and a blanket pulled down over him.

“What the Hell, man.” Eddie kicks the couch base. “Move your legs.”

Carson grumbles and slides his headphones out. “When did you get back?”

“Like, five minutes ago. I went to get you cakes, but they didn’t have none.” He passes Carson a cookie instead. “You could’ve said something when you came out of the bedroom.”

Carson squints at him. “What are you talking about?”

Something in the bedroom is knocked over. CRASH. Eddie jerks, spinning around and squinting into the dark of the trailer. “So, uh, that’s not you.”

“Of course it ain’t me,” says Carson. He shoves the blanket onto the back of the couch, swings his legs over the cushions, and leverages himself up. There’s a bat by the front door. Eddie grabs it and passes it to Carson, because he’s tiny and Carson’s not.

“Chicken,” mutters Carson, but he doesn’t look thrilled to have to go deal with this. “We got that flashlight in the kitchen?”

“Batteries are dead,” says Eddie.

“Great. Storm season, and we’ve got bad batteries.”

“Pretty sure that’s not a hurricane breaking stuff in our bedroom, babe.”

Carson shoots Eddie an unimpressed look. “No duh.”

They make their way to the little off shooting bedroom, Eddie tucked close to Carson’s back. It’s at least still early enough in the evening that wane, yellow light creeps in through the nearby window. Carson presses a hand to the door, pulls in a deep breath, and shoves it open.

What happens next happens fast: there’s motion from the over turned bedside table. Carson swings with the bat, effectively smashing their lamp to pieces. The neighbor’s fat, orange tabby cat gives an indignant hiss and jumps onto the bed, then out through the nearby busted window. There’s glass all over everything, from the lamp and the window, and rain has blown in from the storm soaking the bed and the table in equal parts. The carpet nearby squishes loudly when Carson takes a step.

“Oh,” says Eddie. “Window’s broke.”

Carson drops the bat onto the ground. “That’s it. We’re going to Red’s.”

#wip jkb #my writing #zombies #original fiction big bang #writeblr

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zenithlux · 4 years

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Tendrils of Regret - Part 1

Read on AO3 Here!

My DMCWeek fic, Tendrils of Regret is finally here! I’m really excited about this one and all the follow-up stuff I’ve got cooking up for it! I’ll be posting a chapter a day for the rest of the week around the same time (and bumping them in the evening) so hope ya’ll enjoy :)

You still remember those frightful days, trapped in the body of a demon. You’d been there for a week and a half kept alive by a vine that pierced your body with magic you didn’t understand. Most of the time, you drifted in and out of sleep, alone in the darkness and dreaming of the world you were missing. Other times you were forced to watch as the thing you were playing host to gleefully pierced the hearts of others with its vines and tendrils, sucking away their blood and devouring their life itself. How you trembled with fear, uncertain whether to pray for a rescue or hope for your end.

Then, there was him. The man that became your savior. A tall, tattooed, black-haired man with remarkable demons that sensed who you were. “Well, well!” A talking bird demon said. “There’s a human in here.” When he landed on your demon’s head, you felt him peck it before flying back to the arm of the man. “What’s the plan, V?”

V you thought as the man swung his cane with a low chuckle. “We’ll just have to tear them out.”

Your demon screeched, slamming its vines down around the man. But V just scoffed as he slipped out of the way. A black panther lunged… and that’s all you remembered. When you woke up, you were in his arms with the panther nuzzling your side, a large, rock creature sitting behind him, and a whispered promise; “I’ll protect you.”

And, for the next month, he did. V taught you how to use your new powers that the vine embedded in your chest gave you. He fought alongside you, destroying the vines of that demon tree that nearly destroyed your home. His demons became your friends. You slept by Shadow’s side almost every night, while Griffon cuddled up next to V after complaining that it was “the kitty’s job” almost every time. All five of you had been close- as close as you could be considering how little time you actually had.

Then, one day, he gave you two bracelets made of black cords and a blue rose charm on each. “Hold on to these,” He said. “And when I see you again, you’ll return one to me.” Then, he smiled and kissed your forehead before disappearing for months with no sign of coming home. Another acquaintance of yours, Dante, also disappeared, leaving you, Lady, and Trish to keep Devil May Cry going in his absence.

Not a day went by that you didn’t think of V. But you had to keep moving forward. You couldn’t let your feelings consume you, not when you still had a piece of a demon latched to your heart. Lady and Trish treated you well, though you didn’t miss the occasional pity in their eyes, as if they knew something you didn’t. But you never got a chance to ask, and they never told. All three of you simply worked together under Morrison’s guidance, with you taking all the jobs your powers could handle.

Still, you couldn’t help but feel disconnected from the world. You were missing something important. A piece of your life that you couldn’t get back.

“So what’s it today, Morrison?” Lady said as she hopped on the desk and swiped a piece of pizza. Trish rolled her eyes but took her own slice. You slunk over to the second desk you’d recently bought to store all the paperwork and the blue rose you’d bought a few weeks ago. You touched your hand to the soil, feeling its life pulse in your fingertips. The petals bloomed under your touch, reinvigorated.

“Nothing important today,” Morrison said, waving a letter in the air. “Except some paperwork.” He tossed the envelope and you caught it without looking. “Can you handle that, Rose?”

Rose wasn’t your real name, but you’ve never shared it with them. You were a different person now after you were a part of that demon. You’d never returned to your family, accepting this new life as your own. And Dante had tried plenty of other names - Sunshine. Sugarplum. Little Leaf. Vine Lady. - but it had been V who’d overridden him, calling you “my little rose”. The women had accepted it, and Dante had eventually let his silly nicknames go. “What’s it today, Mori?” You ask, opening the letter. Inside was a stack of letters, bills, and invoices. You click your tongue. “Finances.”

“Yep,” Morrison said. “Your favorite pastime.”

“I’ll take care of it.” You plop down in your seat, tapping the power button of your computer. You’d insisted on getting one of these after Dante left after proclaiming that he was living “in the dark ages”. Trish and Lady had agreed with it, but progress was slow. Dante’s backlog of bills was still a problem that you were trying to solve. But with Lady and Trish’s help, you’d be all caught up in the next few months.

And since you were the only one who lived here, you were very dedicated to making it as comfortable as possible.

You often wondered if Dante would be proud of your work or laugh at you for trying too hard.

“Have you eaten today, Rose?” Lady said after gulping down another slice.

You waved her off. “I have enough sustenance.”

Lady snorted. “Out with the plants again?”

“Gotta keep the vine happy,” You said as you patted your chest. “And it’s not a big fan of pizza.”

“More for us,” Lady said with a grin, but it slipped away as you returned to your work. “Seriously though. You gotta take care of yourself. Can’t have you passing out on us again.”

You frown, not looking up. “That wasn’t my fault.” After V disappeared, you’d be left to navigate your powers alone. What you didn’t realize was that V had been providing a certain sustenance - demonic blood you later found out - and was redirecting a portion towards you through his familiars. Regular food only did so much, and you’d nearly died fighting off a pack of demons. Luckily, both Lady and Trish had been there for that mission and Trish guessed what had gone wrong. Now, you were careful to absorb any demonic essence you could find but often forgot to eat as food was bland and useless now.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

You shrugged. “I’m fine.” And that wasn’t a lie. Not technically. You were fine, just not great. Nights were often lonely without the company, but you never complained. All you had to do was fall asleep at a good time and everything was fine. At least, that’s what you told yourself. Your version of “at a good time” had gotten progressively later as the weeks went on. You often found yourself lingering on the computer, aimlessly searching through things that didn’t interest you for that chance to find one thing that did.

Lady just shook her head, but her smile and relaxed posture returned. “That was almost convincing,” She said with a shrug.

You smiled, glancing up over the monitor. “It’s as close to the truth as I can get.”

Lady hopped off the desk, reaching for Kalina Ann. “May as well patrol,” She said. “As exciting as those finances are…”

You waved her off. “Have fun.”

Lady rolled her eyes. “Always do!”

Then, the door opened.

Your head shot up in surprise. Lady sucked in a sharp breath of surprise. Trish’s eyes narrowed as she leaned against the desk. A man in a red coat walked backward into the office. “... And you’re going to love it,” Dante said as he spun around. His eyes immediately darted between the three of you and he froze, caught between a genuine smile and a look of shock. Behind him stood a man you’d never seen before, but someone that was clearly related to Dante. If his hair were down and his face a little more grizzled, they’d be almost identical. When his gaze fell on you, it was stiff and uncomfortable.

“Hello ladies,” Dante said with an awkward wave. “Long time no see.”

“Seven months!” Lady snapped. “And you gave the deed to Morrison!?” She looked ready to slap him, but you didn’t miss the weary gaze she gave the second man. “You brought him back?”

“Of course,” Dante said with a shrug. “He’s on our side now.”

You blinked. Now? What did that mean? Why wasn’t he before?

Wait…

“Where’s V?” You said, unable to contain the fear in your voice. The second man’s eyes narrowed as Dante’s gaze snapped to you.

“Sunshine…”

“Where is he?” You repeated, standing up. “He went into that tree with you. Why’s he…?” You trailed off, eyes widening. “No…” He couldn’t have… he promised…

“I’m sorry,” Dante said, his tone solemn. No one was looking at you. “But V… well the V you knew is… it’s complicated.”

“The V I knew?” You said. “What do you mean?”

Dante glanced at the girls, his eyes begging for help, but neither of them said a word. “Well you see… my dumbass brother Vergil here…” The other man scoffed, but Dante just glared at him before continuing. “He split himself in two.”

You blinked. “What?”

“His human half,” Dante said, putting his hands to one side. “And his demon half.” He moved to the other. “So V is…” He hesitated, then held both hands out toward Vergil. Wiggling them for extra effect. “Well… Tada!”

You stared at him, mouth agape. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Not one second of it. But the way the other man - Vergil - just stared at him was… disconcerting. This was V… but not V? How was that even possible?

Wait…

“Then what happened to his demon half?”

This time, you didn’t miss the pointed glances Trish and Lady gave each other or the pained look on Dante’s face. Vergil didn’t move, nor had his gaze left yours since he’d walked in the door. You pulled your jacket tight around yourself, trying not to let it bother you. “Well… You know that demon in the tree?” Dante said.

The world seemed to freeze as your mind caught up to what he was saying. You closed your eyes, unable to hide the tears. “You mean… the one who put me in that… thing?”

“Rose...” Lady said.

“Did you know?” You said. A pulse of pain emanated from your chest as everything snapped into focus. The feeling of life nearly overwhelmed you. The rose on your desk. The plants beneath the floorboards. The vines that had yet to dissipate nearby. You could feel them, calling to you. Begging you to set them free. You swallowed, shoving the feeling back down. But you couldn’t stay here; the vine would nag at you until you gave in. And with your emotions breaking down…

“It happened to us too,” Trish said, her tone quieter than you’d ever heard. “But we made it out without… your affliction.”

Affliction. “But V saved me,” She said. “He’s the reason I’m alive… the reason I know how to use this.” She tapped her chest.

“Use what?” Vergil said.

You couldn’t help but glare at him, even through the ever-mounting tears. “You don’t remember?”

Vergil just stared at you and Lady groaned. “Of course not. That would be too simple.”

“Urizen got to her,” Dante said as a matter of fact. “Tied her up in some plant demon and wrapped a vine around her heart. Now she’s got demon powers.” He looked back at you. “And no one’s figured out how to get rid of the thing?”

“Not without killing her,” Trish said.

You choked back a sob, slamming your eyes shut again. No. You could still remember the voice of the demon in your head. That thing that had taken your body as its own host.

You couldn’t do this.

You couldn’t bear to look at him.

You darted for the door. Dante leaped out of the way, but the Vergil just stood there, stopping you short. “Move,” You snapped, glaring at him. His eyes narrowed and his shoulders stiffened, but he didn’t move. More tears slipped down your cheek. “Get out of my way,” You said.

“What was he to you?” He said.

“Shouldn’t you know?” You replied, bitter and resentful. “Since you were him or some nonsense?”

“She and V were close,” Trish said. You didn’t want to hear it, but you didn’t stop her either. “Like sharing the same room close.” You saw Vergil flinch and it only soured your mood even more. How dare he act like that. Did you really mean nothing to him? Did he really forget everything you and his… his what did? His “other self”? His “human half”? Did V even exist anymore? Or were you just stuck with this asshole standing in front of you?

“Move,” You said.

Vergil watched you for a moment longer. His sharp blue eyes were unsettling. The power within you swelled unexpectedly. A harsh desire washed over you. A desire to prove… something. A desire to… to what?

What was happening?

“Rose,” Lady said. “You need to breathe.”

“I need to leave,” You said.

“Come on, Verge,” Dante said. “Let the girl go.”

Finally, Vergil stepped aside and you rushed out into the night.

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

Lady found you half an hour later on a low rooftop surrounded by plants you’d raised from the ground before you crawled up there. You pulled more than usual tonight, cocooning yourself in vines covered in small, white flowers, giant sunflowers that had surprised you, and a couple of large roses fueled by your despair. Redgrave was destroyed already. Your plants just made it prettier. At least, that’s what you told yourself as you peered up at the moon through a small opening.

“Can I join you?” Lady said. You hummed noncommittally but tapped your fingers. Two of the vines fell away, opening a small door until she stepped inside. You used to do this with V, as it was a good practice of your control. Of course, you’d only managed a few plants with him. After months of your own practice, you’d gotten much better.

Not that you showed it off to many people.

“It’s okay to be upset,” Lady said as she sat down beside you. “I know it’s a lot to take in.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

She didn’t hesitate. “To be honest, we weren’t sure what was going to happen. Dante had left to kill his brother, and V himself was deteriorating… as I’m sure you remember.” You nodded, but you didn’t look at her. “But we should have guessed Dante would find a way to save him. And he sure wouldn’t survive forever away from his beer and pizza.”

“And his friends,” you offered.

Lady snorted, but she smiled. “He was probably happy to be away from us for a while.”

You shrugged. “He’s probably glad to see you both again.” Your gaze lifted back to the moon. “Unlike V… Vergil.” The name was still bitter on your tongue and you weren’t sure if you’d ever get used to saying it. You could imagine V right here, telling you the truth. How much you would have laughed with him over the very imaginative name he’d given himself before he would lull you to comfort with poems and Shadow’s purrs. How little you would have cared then. V was V. His own person. The man you…

You sighed. “Now what?”

Lady was silent for a moment, eyes drifting to the moon. “I’m not expecting you to have the same feelings for Vergil that you did for V,” She said. You didn’t look at her as tears threatened to fall again. “V is a part of the whole, yes, but he isn’t… the whole.” Lady sighed. “It’s…”

“Complicated?” You said.

“Something like that,” She said. “Just don’t let him get to you.” She hesitated again, then sighed. “Last time we met… he wasn’t the nicest guy. But maybe he’s changed. Who knows?” She muttered something under her breath, but you only caught the words “I” and “wouldn’t”. Your heart sank at the implication. I wouldn’t trust him.

“What should I do then?” You said. “Just… accept it?”

“I don’t know,” She admitted. “But I wanted you to know that I’ll be here for you, okay? If you need anything, don’t be afraid to come to me.”

You closed your eyes, letting the tears fall. “He’s really gone,” You whisper. As much as you knew V, you didn’t know Vergil. You didn’t even know if you could trust him. The sheer fact that he’d been the demon to seal you away, the very reason you had to give up everything you loved… was heartbreaking. How could you look at him the same? How could you see the man you’d grown to care for and ignore the awful things that had happened?

“Life’s never easy for people like us,” Lady said.

You shook your head. “Of course not.”

#dmcweek #dmcweek2020 #vergil/reader #vergil/you #vergil #dante #lady #trish #enemies to friends #slow mutual pining #remnants of V

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let-me-write-shit · 4 years

Text

Like We Used To: 24

A/N: You’ll want to read this one!!! Let me know what you think!

WARNING: SMUT!!! (****** will be at end and beginning so you can skip if you want)

[Click Here For Previous Chapters]

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

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR:

The ride to Elizabeth’s parent’s house was fairly awkward for her, although Harry didn’t seem to notice much as he yapped away in the car about how happy he was that her and Anne still got along as well as they used to. He didn’t notice Elizabeth distracted in the passenger seat. Anne’s words of warning kept replaying in her mind. All of his previous relationships ended because of how busy he gets. Elizabeth knew that Anne was just trying to protect Elizabeth from getting hurt, but the fact that this was something Elizabeth was concerned about from the beginning made it slightly more concerning coming from Harry’s mom. All of it was new to her, so she figured that Harry’s world would be even more difficult compared to his model exes who have a better understanding of a busier lifestyle than her. This just meant that Elizabeth had to learn to be more patient, like Anne said.

They were minutes from Elizabeth’s childhood home when Harry pulled into a grocery store parking lot. He asked her to wait in the car for a minute while he ran in to grab something. Elizabeth watched, confused, as he jogged into the store. What could he possibly need? They already ate dinner and it was already 8 PM. When she saw Harry running back out a short time later, she shook her head.

“Suck up,” she teased as he got in, placing a bottle of wine, a bouquet of flowers, and a pack of oreos at her feet.

He laughed, “Well you hated me after I left, so I can only imagine how your parents feel about me. I need to make sure I make a good impression this time around.”

She rolled her eyes, “My mom has always loved you. My dad...well, he’s just a sweetheart.”

“Yeah, but he kinda scares me a bit,” he admitted.

“He’s just protective. He means well.”

Harry commented on how crazy it was that he remembered the way to her house so easily, even after all of this time, and how everything seemed to be smaller than he remembered. He pulled into the driveway and took a deep breath, staring at the door. He did his best to hide it, but it was heartwarming to see how nervous he was. Elizabeth smiled at him until he was finally ready to get out.

She led the way to the front door, pulling it open and stepping right in without knocking, as her parents were expecting them, and called out their names. Their cat, Binx, scurried across the landing, startled from their entrance as Elizabeth’s parents came running up.

“Oh, my baby!” Elizabeth’s mom, Kim, exclaimed, though her dad was the first to reach her. He pulled her into a hug, squeezing her tight and swaying her from side to side for a moment. Kim smacked her husband's back, “Alright, John, give me a turn!” John finally let go of his daughter and smiled lovingly at Elizabeth as Kim gave her an embrace.

As soon as Kim pulled away, Elizabeth stepped towards Harry and said, “Remember this guy?”

“Of course we do!” Kim gushed, going in for a hug.

John held his hand out for a handshake and said, “How’s it going, rockstar?” grasping firmly.

Harry chuckled, “Great, thank you. I brought these for you both,” he extended the flowers and wine towards Kim.

“Oh my goodness, thank you!” Kim cried, “Why don’t you three head to the living room while I put these flowers in a vase and crack open this nice bottle of wine. Make yourselves comfortable.”

As Kim scurried towards the kitchen, John wrapped an arm around his daughters shoulders, pulling her in close to him and leading them towards the living room, Harry following behind. Harry looked around at the decor, and aside from updated photos that hung on the walls, everything was pretty much the same as it looked before he left.

The three of them took a seat on the couch while Elizabeth leaned in to her father’s side. Growing up, she was always extremely close to her family, especially her dad. She was definitely a daddy’s girl, and John reveled in it. He was wrapped around her finger from the minute she was born. Harry always commented on how nice it was that they were so close. It didn’t take long for Kim to come bouncing back in the room, carrying a small black storage box, and a few empty glasses with the wine bottle, beaming at them.

“What’s that?” Elizabeth sat up straight as her mom took a seat in a chair opposite the coffee table, placing the box down.

Kim opened the lid and started pulling out discs, “When you told me that you were bringing Harry out, I had dad search for this in the attic. It’s old home videos of when you two were little kids. I figured you might want to see them.”

“I forgot we used to do that!” Elizabeth smiled over at Harry who sat up, excited.

While Kim put the disc in the dvd player, Harry poured everyone a glass of wine. Elizabeth smiled when she saw her 14 year old face pop up on the tv, blushing as all of her friends sang Happy Birthday to her. Matt and Harry could be seen blowing party horns in between lyrics. The next video captured was of her dad behind the camera, videoing through a window to see Harry, Elizabeth, Kate, Lewis, and Jimmy laying in the grass and talking in their bathing suits after having played with water balloons . It looked like Kate and Elizabeth were trying to sunbathe while Jimmy plucked at the grass. Harry was trying to be funny by putting grass on Elizabeth’s back.

John’s commentary made Elizabeth laugh as he was heard saying things like, “This boy better watch himself,” and “That’s my girl! Get him!” when Elizabeth kicked Harry over, laughing when she realized what he was doing.

Another video was before a school dance. Elizabeth was in a hideous purple dress, hair in half-up curls, pinning a boutonniere on her then-boyfriend, Hendrick. Harry could be seen in the background standing with his girlfriend, Lily, amongst the rest of their friends but he was looking over at Elizabeth with a soft smile on his face. All of their parents were there shouting out different things to their kids and it was total chaos.

As the four continued to watch, Elizabeth slowly started sinking into Harry’s shoulder, smiling and laughing with each video that was shown. She was grateful for her parents having caught so many memories of her growing up with her friends. Once it started getting into the timeframe where Harry had left, Kim had decided they had watched enough.

John set his empty wine glass on the coffee table and turned to face the young couple, “Guess I should have seen this coming,” he gestured towards the two of them, “Harry was staring at you in nearly all of those old videos. Here, I thought it was just some dumb puppy love you had for Lizzy back then.”

Harry as he laughed and looked between Elizabeth and John. “That’s what I thought, too.”

Elizabeth looked at the clock that read 10:12 PM and sat up, announcing, “Right, well I guess we should head out. It’s a long drive back.”

“Oh, well why don’t you two just stay for the night, then,” Kim suggested, “Your room is still there for you, and you have that pull out mattress for Harry.”

Elizabeth glanced up at Harry to read his face and when he shrugged at her, she nodded, “Alright, sure. I guess, we’ll just head up and get ready for bed? I’m pretty tired.”

The four stood up and Elizabeth kissed her parents goodnight. Harry gave them both a hug and as they ascended the stairs John called after them, “And no funny business, Harry!”

The two of them laughed as Elizabeth pushed her bedroom door open. Harry’s mouth fell, looking around the room. It looked almost exactly the same as he remembered it. Her room was still a pale pink color. Her desk and bookshelves cluttered with old school books and random knick knacks, and behind her daybed was fairylights that draped in a zig-zag motion, pictures clipped along the strands.

“Wow, this brings me back,” he gaped, leaning over her bed to get a better look at the pictures. He saw a ton of familiar pictures of a young Elizabeth with Kate and Celeste, he only saw one picture of him in it with their whole friend group, but where he remembered there being pictures of the two of them together, they were replaced with pictures of her college friends, and even a couple of pictures with her and Kyle, kissing.

Harry groaned, pulling one of the pictures off of the clip and waving it in the air, “Won’t be needing this anymore, will we?”

Elizabeth took it to see what he was talking about and chuckled, blowing air out of his nose, “I guess I should put it in my box.”

“Your box?” Harry questioned, eyebrow raising.

“Yeah!” Elizabeth exclaimed, pulling open her closet door, “My ‘Forget Me’ box. I think you might be in there, actually.”

Harry watched as she pulled a shoe box down from the shelf in her closet and plopped it on her bed. He sat down beside her when she lifted the lid, exposing a stack of pictures, some tacky jewelry, and two small books. He flinched when he saw the corner of one of the pictures and grabbed it to see himself and Elizabeth. In the picture she was smiling as Harry kissed her cheek aggressively, making her cheeks smoosh up. He recognized it as one of the pictures that used to be on the strand of fairy lights above her bed. There was even a notch in the top of the photo where the clip had held onto.

“Why am I in the ‘Forget Me’ box,” Harry frowned.

Elizabeth looked at him, apologetically, “Well, I was mad at you back then. At least I didn’t throw them out.”

Harry nodded when he grabbed one of the books, “What’s this?”

She laughed, taking it out of his hands and flipping through it, “Oh my god, this is my old journal. There was some juicy stuff in here. I’m pretty sure I mentioned you a few times. Yep! Here’s one!” she chuckled, turning to a page. She read aloud.

‘Dear Diary,

Today Harry and I planned to meet up at the park again after our parents go to sleep. I’m a bit scared that my parents will catch me this time, but Jenny said she’d cover for me. I think Jenny thinks that Harry and I meet up to snog or something. I wouldn’t mind snogging Harry, but he has a girlfriend. I really hate Lily. And Harry says he’s not too keen on her, either. Well why is he with her, then? I swear boys can be real chodes sometimes! That stupid idiot! Honestly, I don’t know why I like him so much. I think his dimples might be cutting circulation off to his brain somehow. God, he’s cute! Last time he came over he said he’d lost his virginity the night before. Kinda pissed me off a bit, I’m not gonna lie. I bet he’s big. I had a dream last night that we had sex. It was so realistic, it was almost impossible to look at him in the eyes today. I can’t wait to lose my virginity. Anyways, wish me luck tonight.

Love, Lizzy <3’

Lizzy laughed as she read and looked over at her boyfriend when she finished and his mouth had fallen to the floor. “Jesus, you were a horny 15 year old,” he smirked. “I didn’t know you wanted me that badly, Lizzy. You should have told me.”

“I didn’t know you liked me! You had a girlfriend!”

“Only because I didn’t think you liked me!” Harry retorted. “You know, I remember that day I came over and told you I had lost my virginity. I never told you what happened, though. I mean, it only lasted for a couple minutes, but I remember I accidentally said your name that night in the middle of sex.”

“What?!” Elizabeth exclaimed, laughing.

Harry chuckled, “Yeah! She got pissed and started yelling at me, but I told her ‘I didn’t say Lizzy, I said Lily! You misheard because your names sound so similar! I was just breathing heavy.’ I don’t think she believed me, but she stopped arguing with me.”

“Is that why she was such a massive bitch to me all the time?” Elizabeth questioned.

“Probably,” Harry nodded, “God, I can’t even tell you how many times we sat on this bed, alone, and I just wanted to kiss you.”

“Yeah?” Elizabeth asked, seductively, pushing the box to the side, “Well come on, Styles. Now’s your chance.”

Harry smirked, crawling over towards Elizabeth. He pulled her legs so that she was scooched closer to him and he slowly brought his hand up to her cheek, kissing her softly on the lips.

Elizabeth broke free, “What else did you always want to do in my bed?”

Harry looked down into her eyes before his gaze turned down towards her breasts, “A little bit of this,” he said, kissing her neck and hand hovering over her shirt that covered her breast. He ran it down and back up underneath her shirt, squeezing her firm breast that was covered by her favorite blue lacy bra.

“Anything else?” she whispered into his ear.

***************************

Harry sat up, eyes darting all over Elizabeth’s body before something clicked in his head. In a rush of movement, Harry ripped Elizabeth’s shirt off of her, pushing her back on the bed and hovering over top of her, kissing her neck forcefully. She couldn’t help but let out a whimper as he sucked on a particular sweet spot at the base of her neck, dotting kisses down to her stomach. She felt her stomach flutter, aching for more of him. She used his position as an opportunity to pull his shirt off of him and just as quickly as his shirt was off, he was then pulling her pants off of her hips and down her legs.

She watched with shallow breaths as her core throbbed, craving more. Their eyes met while he kissed her inner thigh, so close to where she wanted his mouth to be. His eyes darted towards the strand of pictures hanging just next to them, causing him to sit up. Harry outstretched his arm towards a picture of her and Kyle smiling and he pulled it off, turned it around, and clipped it back onto the strand so that the picture faced the wall.

“Don’t need him watching this,” Harry smirked, hovering back over Elizabeth, hooking his fingers into her underwear and pulling it down.

That action shouldn’t have aroused Elizabeth as much as it did, but sure enough, Elizabeth felt goosebumps form across her arms and stomach, her core throbbing even harder. Harry’s fingers grazed her lips as he sucked on her stomach, and just as he was about to insert his fingers, Elizabeth’s phone started ringing loudly somewhere on the bed beside them.

******************************

She sat up,frantically feeling around the comforter for her phone, blood boiling at the interruption. When she finally found it, she flipped the phone around to see the caller ID read ‘Kyle’. Before she could even digest who was calling her, Harry stood up furiously.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” He exclaimed, smacking a pillow off of the bed and onto the floor.

Elizabeth sat up tensely, never having seen him so angry before, “Sorry, I’ll just put my phone on silent...”

“It’s like he knew!” Harry cut her off.

“Babe, come on! Let’s just…”

In the middle of her sentence, her phone dinged, signalling a text message. They both looked down to see Kyle had texted her ‘Please, honey. Why won’t you answer me? I love you.’

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Harry shouted, throwing his hands up in the air, “Why is he still messaging you? There’s no way he just calls and texts you for two months straight without a response! You should have blocked him by now! Especially now that we’re dating!”

Elizabeth sat up, heat rising to her cheeks, “First of all, I don’t like your insinuation. Yes, he’s called and texted me for two months without a single response. If you don’t believe me, I can prove it!” she opened her text conversations, quickly scrolling through the chat history to prove her point before looking back up into Harry’s face, a flicker of shame could be seen within his rage, “Secondly, I’m a grown ass adult. You don’t get to tell me what to do. You’re my boyfriend, not my father, not my boss, we’re a team. I didn’t block him because I didn’t think it was necessary to block him. If you were that upset with the occasional messages, you could have talked to me about it beforehand like an adult. You didn’t have to wait until I was naked in my childhood home, on my childhood bed, with my parent’s only three rooms down, to throw a temper tantrum like an absolute child.”

Harry’s expression softened, feeling slightly embarrassed by his actions. He quickly tried to defend himself, “You have three years of history with this guy! I don’t know if you truly don’t have any more feelings for him. Besides, I’m allowed to be a little jealous! Just like you were jealous when my ex was at my party…”

“Don’t even try to compare our situations,” Elizabeth cut him off, “My ex boyfriend is a cheating loser from no-one-gives-a-fuck-ville. I haven’t responded to a single attempt at him trying to reach me, have I? I didn’t invite him to my house to hang out with my family and new boyfriend, did I? I didn’t hug him or kiss his cheek when we left him at the club, did I? No, I let Matt kick his ass and left with you. Meanwhile, you invite your international model of an ex-girlfriend to a party at your house with a girl that you’re currently sleeping with, are overly friendly with her infront of me, and I barely say a damn thing. I most certainly didn’t lose my shit over it in the middle of foreplay. You’re Harry-fucking-Styles, for christ sake! Why the hell would I cheat on you for someone who cheated on me? Regardless, we just got done confessing our attraction for each other since we were fucking 14 years old. So don’t lecture me about my ‘3 year history’ with this guy when I’ve had 12 years of history with you! It’s always been you, Harry. Don’t you dare try to guilt me for having been in a relationship after you left.”

Elizabeth started to reach for her shirt that had been flung on the ground during their initial heavy-petting, when Harry grabbed her hand. She looked up into his eyes and read his face riddled with guilt and lust. She could tell, whatever she had said excited him. She knew what he was about to do, and she suddenly felt her anger that had been boiling away a minute ago fizzle into burning desire.

*************************************

Harry lunged at her, pinning her back down on the bed and kissing her harder than he had before, leaving trails of soft red marks across her skin down her stomach. Elizabeth’s back arched as his mouth attached to her slit, tongue circling her clit as his stubble massaged her sensitive skin surrounding. She clutched onto the sheets and yanked them, causing her ‘Forget Me’ box to crash down onto the floor, letting out a soft moan.

Elizabeth pulled on his hair, forcing him up. He managed to kick his pants off as she whimpered, begging, “Fuck me, Harry.”

“Say it again,” he demanded, massaging his length, preparing himself for her.

She cried, desperate for him, “Please! Fuck me.”

Harry guided himself at her entrance, teasing her by only inserting the tip before taking it back. She groaned each time he did it, scraping his hips to try and get him to go in. Finally, after a few seconds of squirming, he pushed himself deep inside of her, feeling her walls tighten up around his throbbing cock. He threw his head back, pumping slowly in and out of her wet cunt, seemingly savoring every ounce of sensations that ran through his body, from the smell of her panting breaths, to the feeling of her soft skin, to the taste of her wine-stained tongue.

Elizabeth noticed how intensely he stared at her eyes and her lips, how thoughtfully he touched her breasts, and her stomach, and her outer thighs, almost as if he was trying to memorize the shape of her. How purposefully he thrust himself inside her.

He pressed on her stomach, feeling his thrusts deepen and her walls started to pulsate, nearing her climax. Harry’s breath labored, thrusts becoming shorter as he panted her name, knowing that he would soon be coming to an end.

“Don’t stop,” she begged, “I’m almost there.”

“I’m gonna cum.”

“Please!” Elizabeth whined, “Keep going.”

Harry tried to hold out as long as he could, breathing heavily as she rubbed her clit to try and force herself to finish first. Elizabeth shoved her face into his arm, concentrating on every stroke of pleasure, biting her lip at the edge of climax.

“I can’t!” Harry panted, quickly pulling out of her and rubbing his length on her clit, cum erupting from his tip and being squished around by the movement of their bellies as Elizabeth continued to rub her clit alongside his lubricated cock, finishing milliseconds after him.

She let out a squeal as he pussy pounded, earning a breathy kiss from Harry as he fell on the bed beside her, both too exhausted to clean up the mess just yet, just listening to each other catch their breath.

**********************************

After a while, Elizabeth managed to grab his boxers, cleaning themselves off with that, before getting under the sheets, discussing how he would have to hide his boxers in his pocket before they left the next morning.

Elizabeth cuddled into Harry’s side with his arm around her shoulder, lightly drawing on his skin as he watched her face. A moment of comfortable silence later, Harry finally whispered, “I’m sorry.”

She nodded, understanding what he was referring to, and smiled, happy that the argument was over with. Elizabeth felt for her phone and brought it to her face, searching through her contact list. When she found Kyle's name, she clicked on it, scrolled, and clicked on ‘Block This User’, before tossing it to the side. Harry’s grip tightened around her and she felt his lips smash down on her head as she continued drawing shapes onto Harry’s skin, tracing a heart near his navel. She was happy.

KEEP READING

#harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fan fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #Harry Styles fanfiction #Harry Styles fanfic #one direction #one direction fan fiction #one direction fan fic #one direction smut #one direction blurb #harry styles blurb #smut #sluff

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acanvasofabillionsuns · 4 years

Text

(you hit the) restart

this is not actually the third part, but the second part rewritten to take the other route (aka, Tony forgets her afterwards)

part 1! part 2!

Warnings: N/A Wordcount: 1,831

The next day, Tony makes eye contact with a cute girl in the hallway. She seems vaguely familiar, but he can’t place her.

“Hi, Tony,” she mumbles in passing.

“Hi?” He racks his brain for where she knows him from and comes up empty. How does she know his name?

At his response, she pauses and stares up at him, a look of exasperated surprise falling across her face.

“Oh,” she says quietly. She tilts her head slightly, staring at him for a long moment, then scrunches up her face and starts to walk off.

“What’s ‘oh’?” Tony asks, more than a little confused by the entire interaction.

“Nothing,” the girl tells him. “I need to get to class.” She makes to start walking again.

“Can I at least get your name?” Tony asks quickly.

“Violet.”

With that, she hurries away before he can say anything else. He watches her go, not sure why it feels like he already knows her. He wants to find out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Violet slides into her seat with a sigh. Her decision was made for her, then, and Tony’s forgotten her once more. Maybe it’s finally time to give up on him.

Except, he isn’t letting her do that, catching her in the halls and striking up short conversations, and then longer ones after school while they wait for their rides. It takes a week of him trying to get her to open up for her to snap.

“Why do you keep trying to be my friend?” Violet demands. She’s not sure why she’s upset about this, only that she is.

“Why don’t you want to be my friend?” Tony counters, and Violet pauses, letting the question sink in. She’d decided to give up on him, but this was the first time he’d come to her instead of vice versa. Maybe it was a sign she should keep trying?

“Violet?” Tony prompts her, and oh, right, she hadn’t answered him yet, had she?

“Sorry,” she tells him, and tries to come up with an answer that isn’t rude but also is a good reason to have been avoiding him. What comes out is “I’m tired of you forgetting me after you work out my identity.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Identity?” Tony echos in a burst of startled laughter. What, like a superhero identity?

Violet responds by turning invisible. Just her, not her clothes, and only for a few seconds before she pops back into existence, eyes wide and darting like she’s about to bolt.

Apparently exactly like a superhero identity.

“Uh. You didn’t see anything?” she tries. Tony gives her a Look and she sighs, grabbing his wrist and pulling him into a nearby room.

She glares at him, leaning close as she hisses, “You aren’t going to breathe another syllable about this to anyone, got it?” He nods. “I’m going to go home, and I will meet you tomorrow and answer your questions. You’re going to go to your work, and pretend everything’s normal, and I’ll text you where we’ll meet. Okay?”

He nods. He’s not sure why she felt the need to drag him in here to threaten him if she was just going to talk about it vaguely and quietly, but threat received loud and clear and he’s kind of terrified of what she might do if he doesn’t comply.

She nods backs, lets go of him, and steps back.

“Wait!” he says. “I don’t have your number.” She can’t text him without his number.

Violet rolls her eyes and pulls out her phone. She taps something into it, and a few seconds later his phone dings.

Violet: You can’t seriously think that after all the times you’ve worked out my identity and then forgotten it you haven’t gotten my phone number before.

He looks back up at her and she quirks an eyebrow, half a smile pulling at her lips.

“You should probably leave now,” she advises, before slipping out of the room. He checks the time to see she’s definitely right, and hightails it out of the school.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Violet fidgets nervously as she waits for Tony to show up. She’d asked him to meet her at the park that generally didn’t have a lot of people there, hoping that’d ring true today, and now she’s standing near the front, crossing her fingers hoping nobody somehow found out and made Tony forget her again. He’s pretty good at keeping his word to her—excepting all the times he’d forgotten her, though those weren’t really his fault—but he’s upward of ten minutes late and approaching fifteen.

Just as she thinks this, he jogs into view.

“Hey!” he calls as he runs over. He slides to a stop in front of her and puts his hands on his knees, catching his breath. “Sorry I’m late. The guy taking over my shift was late and I had to cover for him until he arrived.”

“No worries!” Violet assures him, mentally shoving away her worries. “C’mon, let’s find somewhere with less people.”

They weave their way through the park until they come across a small playground, hidden behind a cluster of trees and creaky from disuse. The swings screech horribly as they both take one, but they drag their heels in the mulch and it stops quickly.

“Soooo...” Tony says. Violet studies her shoes. She can see him watching her in her peripheral, and hopes he doesn’t ask anything. Which is silly, since that’s what she brought him here to do, but she does anyway. “Wanna explain what happened yesterday?”

“Not particularly,” she admits. “But I said I’d answer any questions you had, and I do sort of owe it to you for being a jerk this time around, so.”

She pauses, thinking about how she wants to phrase this, but Tony speaks before she can. “This time around?”

“Oh.” She looks over at him. “Yeah. That. About that; you’ve forgotten who I am... I think it’s nine times now?” She mentally counts them up and nods. “Yeah, nine.”

“And each time, you— what? Reintroduced yourself to me? Over and over?” Violet nods. “Why not this time?”

Violet winces and looks back down at her shoes. “You said you couldn’t be with someone who couldn’t tell you the truth.”

“What?”

“About a month ago, Collin told you about how we’ve been dating off and on for a year, and you asked me about it since you only remembered knowing me for a week. I lied—it was a pretty terrible lie—and you broke up with me. And then last week you figured out my identity again, and forgot me, again, and I thought maybe it was time to stop trying with you. But you kept approaching me, and here we are.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tony searches her face for—something, though he’s not sure what. He knows she’s telling the truth, not only because of her disappearing act yesterday but also because her story just sounds right, somehow. But still, she likes him enough to pursue him eight times? Wow. And she’d only stopped after a bad breakup—which, from the sound of it, does seem like a decision he would make in that situation, and as much as he wants to deny it he knows he’d probably make that decision again, though he still kind of wants to punch his past self in the face for breaking up with Violet.

He opens his mouth, not sure what he’s going to say, but what comes out is, “You know Collin?”

He immediately wants to stuff the words back in his mouth because of course she knows Collin; she’d mentioned his name like they knew each other pretty well, and he’s sure after eight rounds together he’d have introduced her to his friends at some point. But thankfully she just laughs a bit and nods.

“Yeah, I’ve met all of them. It’s a good thing, too—let me run interference enough that none of them said anything about us being together longer than you knew. Well, until a month ago, at least.”

“What do they all think of our relationship?” Tony asks. “What do they think happens when it resets each time?” Isn’t that a thought; they’d been in a relationship before. Multiple times. (She’d said a minute ago that they’d been dating but something about him saying it makes it sound more like it’d happened.) He’d imagined it, a few times, but Violet had seemed so against even being friends that dating had seemed out of the question.

Violet laughs again. “Our friends are under the impression that we’re one of those couples who keep breaking up and getting back together. The breakup a month ago was the only fight we’ve ever actually had, but Ann’s commented more than once on what a rocky couple we are.”

“Wow,” Tony says. “How long have I been forgetting you, by the way? Because if it’s only been, like, a few months, then we must seem like a really rocky couple.”

“A little over a year,” Violet supplies, and Tony sucks in a breath. He kind of figured it’d been a while, but a year. Over a year. Wow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Wow,” Tony repeats. Violet huffs out a laugh.

“Yeah,” she agrees. “Wow.”

They sit in silence for a minute, Violet trying to think of something to say and failing. Tony screeches his swing and she snaps her head over to look at him and his racket. Why would he do that to her poor ears?

He looks like he regrets it too. (Good.)

“So what now?”

“I... don’t know,” Violet admits, scrunching up her forehead as she thinks. She wants to say she wants to date him still, but what if he’s not interested in her like that this time? Then again, he has been interested in her the past eight times, so this one probably wouldn’t be any different? Especially considering he kept pestering her to be his friend. But last time was the first time they’d had a fight, and he’d probably still been upset with her, and maybe that had affected his feelings towards her—she offers, “I’m willing to date you again, if you want to?” before she keeps overthinking this.

“Yes,” Tony agrees immediately, then seems to stop and think about it. Violet worries for a second he’s going to take it back, but he asks, “Before we actually go on a date, though, is it possible for me to get my memories back?”

“I don’t know that either,” Violet says. “I guess if it was, then Dicker would know—he’s the one who erased your memories each time.”

“Oh,” Tony says, dislike evident in his tone.

Violet waves her hands in an X. “No, not like that—he’s just trying to protect Supers’ identities. He does it for everyone who spots a Super unmasked. You’re just more observant than most.” She smiles at him on the last sentence, and Tony blushes adorably, smiling back.

“Alright then,” he says. “Let’s go visit Dicker.”

part 3!

#violet parr #tony rydinger #viony #incredibles 2 #this part is dedicated to drew for leaving nice comments on the other two parts <3 #who knew getting validation would motivate you to post more amirite #my fics #my writing

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outerspaceisbetterthannothing · 5 years

Text

Truth To Be Told [Ashton One Shot]

Warnings: slight cursing

Pairing: Ashton Irwin x Reader

A/N: this was supposed to be Anne’s @bringmethehorizonandpizza birthday present, but i’m the most awful friend, so i’ve finished it only now, hope Anne doesn’t hate me as much as i deserve to be hatedfor that 🙈 i also hope you’ll enjoy this cliche bff to lovers story. My prompt was “I wanna eat you up like a candy” 😈 Feedback is extremelly appreciated, as always! Happy reading!

You were rushing through the rain in the busy downtown, being awfully late to your date. You looked at your watch and cursed under you breath. You just couldn’t get how it all happened.

And what happened was you simply forgetting about the date in the first place. Unbelievable, but you did. It wasn’t like you didn’t like the guy, completely opposite for that matter. You and Nate had been seeing each other for almost three months now and everything was going great. He was smart, but not a snob, had nice sense of humor, normal job and usual interests. He was absolutely normal and you often thought you liked that most about him. And it definitely wasn’t like you didn’t wanna go on this date. Nate booked a table in that Greek restaurant you wanted to visit and you anticipated that evening. You just… forgot.

It happens, right? Sometimes people forget things and there is nothing criminal in that. To be honest, it wasn’t even your fault. You had woken up with mild headache that morning and it really distracted you. You also had a really tough time at work, and by the time you actually realised it wasn’t just Friday but also that Friday, the Friday you had a date, you were already late. And yes, you felt awful. Because you liked Nate. You liked him enough to really wish for things to work between the two of you. So you were almost running. Cause you cared. You really did.

The restaurant was full, which didn’t surprise you as it was Friday night, but the waiter didn’t make you wait any extra minute. Nate smiled when he saw you and you felt the anxiety knot in your belly weaken. He wasn’t angry, he understood. He kissed you and helped with your chair and joked how he had some extra time to choose wine, so it was even better that you came late. He was a perfect gentleman, you wondered how you could even wish for anything more. And even though the annoying voice in the back of your head was nagging you about that ‘more’ you were wishing for, providing you with images and memories, you pushed it all back and focused on Nate. You didn’t quite know what was about to happen, but you had the feeling that tonight was somehow important for your boyfriend.

The waiter brought you wine and you felt that was the moment. Nate coughed and fixed his watch, he was always doing it if being nervous. You tried to guess what it was he was about to say. You’ve met his friends already, but it was too early to meet his family yet. You never had the exclusivity talk, but from the beginning of your relationship you both understood it was implied. Was he about to hand you the key to his apartment? Or was it also too soon? Or maybe he wanted to suggest going on holiday together? You felt your insides tremble in anticipation.

Nate cleared his throat again and started, “Y/n, you look wonderful today.” You smiled. He lied. You looked usual, but you were thankful to him for this little lie.

“And you always look wonderful, I have no idea, how you manage to do that, but you do. And I just wanted to take this opportunity to express my feelings to you,” he took a pause and you felt ice cover your still slightly trembling insides. Good God, was he about to say the L word? But you sure as hell wasn’t ready for the L word, no no no, how could you stop this? “You’re beautiful, and incredibly funny, and you’re smart, and kind, and caring. Honestly, you’re picture perfect. And I’m even not going to say how you’re the most sensible woman I’ve met in my entire life,” he paused again. You were just looking at him, feeling flattered and scared at the same time. And then he said it. “And all of that only leaves me utterly surprised why we don’t work.”

You felt the air leave your lungs. You even thought about asking him to repeat, but there was no need, as he continued. “I mean, please, tell me if I’m mistaking, but there’s just no spark between the two of us, is there?”

You looked away from him, moving your sight to your slightly shaking hand on the table. He covered your hand with his and, suddenly, you calmed down. You looked back at Nate and shook your head.

“No, there is no spark,” you admitted with a smile. “We’re more like a quiet couple with 15 years of marriage experience.”

Nate giggled. You liked his giggles, the sound fresh and light. But not as wonderful as your favourite giggles.

“This is unbelievably cruel,” he said. “I mean, we should be perfect together! We fit wonderfully and you’re gorgeous! What’s wrong with us?”

You shrugged, sipping on your wine. “No idea, Nate. To be honest, I haven’t felt so comfortable with a guy for a long time. So I’m just as confused as you are. And a little disappointed,” you admitted to your wine glass.

“Hey, don’t be, please,” he asked you, squeezing your hand. “If you think we need more time-”

“No, Nate, you’re right. I don’t think time will help here,” you forced yourself to smile again. Nate didn’t deserve your sad face, it wasn’t his fault after all. “What are we gonna do now?”

Nate laughed. “To be honest, I have no idea. That’s like, the most civilized break up in my life. Usually it’s scandals and tears and friends picking up your stuff from your ex.”

You laughed too, it was sincere this time, cause you knew that pattern just as well.

“What people do when they just stop dating without all the drama?” he asked.

“Well, I still have your sweater,” you reminded. “And you have my book.”

“Which I hope to finish by the next weekend.”

“So,” you started timidly, “maybe I could step by around the weekend and exchange your sweater for my book?”

“And we could then go and drink some coffee,” Nate nodded in agreement. He probably saw the slight hesitation in your eyes, as he added, “Don’t get me wrong, I just don’t wanna lose you completely. As I said, you’re one of the best people I know. Do you think we could still be friends?”

Of course, you could be friends. Obviously, you were a wonderful friend. And never a girlfriend. But, Nate didn’t need to hear that from you. So you agreed and smiled and you just spent a great evening enjoying the food and chatting about everything and nothing at the same time. When the night was over and Nate was paying the check (he insisted on doing it himself, as, technically, you were still dating while ordering) you thought, that the dinner went just as smooth and enjoyable, as you could expect. Only you weren’t a couple anymore. But it didn’t change anything, nor in the mood, neither in your feelings. And if what Nate said didn’t persuade you that breaking up was the best decision, that indifference you had now inside finally did.

Nate waited for your uber with you. He hugged you and wished you good night and promised to text next week. And just like that another unremarkable relationship in your life has ended.

***

Ashton started talking before he came up to their place at the counter.

“I do think we need to add more guitars to that song.”

Calum rolled his eyes. This conversation had been going all day long. And even now, late in the evening in a bar, where they decided to spend the night just to relax a little, Ashton couldn't let it go.

“You know what? You’ll tell that Mike and Luke on Monday. And now you’ll finish your drink and we’ll go home.”

“If you disagree, mate, you should just say so,” Ashton frowned. “No need to be passive aggressive.”

Calum chuckled, taking a look around the bar. He had no agenda, they weren’t expecting any friends, he just took a meaningless look around. And he wished he didn’t.

“Hey, Ash, isn’t it-” Calum started, but just as abruptly stopped. What reaction would Ash have? Calum knew about his feelings and wasn’t sure if it was so smart of him to show this to Ashton.

“What?” Ash looked at him quizzically.

“Nothing,” Calum shook his head and downed his drink. “You ready to go?”

Ashton chuckled nervously and looked at his best mate. “No, I’m not ready. And what did you want to say?”

“Nothing. Just thought I saw a familiar face, but obviously I’ve mistaken.”

But that was enough for Ashton to start looking around.

“You haven’t,” he informed Calum, his voice dropped. He turned back and looked into his glass.”

“So it is Y/N’s boyfriend?” Calum stated, confirming his earlier suspicions. They both looked on their right to the further part of the bar, where the guy they’ve met only several weeks ago as Y/N’s new love interest, was sucking on some girl’s face who was definitely not Y/N.

Ashton nodded and finished his whiskey.

“Come on, man, we should go,” Calum tried and patted his friends shoulder. But Ashton changed plans already. He beckoned the bartender and ordered one more round for him and Calum.

“Ash, don’t think it’s a good idea,” Calum frowned. “We better go, mate.”

“Hey, we’re just spending an evening. Promise, I won’t do anything, just let’s stay for a while.”

Calum sighed and let his friend pay for his drink. He knew it was a bad idea. But he also knew he’d rather die than leave his friend in a state like that. They were stuck together even through the worst ideas ever. So he stayed. But no matter how hard he tried to discuss new songs or studio work or his sister’s life (for the lack of topics), Ashton kept staring at Y/N’s boyfriend.

“I mean, how does she manage to do that?” Ashton finally muttered halfway through his glass.

“What?” Calum scrunched his face, looking away from his instagram feed.

“How does she manage to always choose such losers?” Aston turned to his friend. His gaze was already a little fogged by the alcohol.

“He didn’t seem a loser when we met him,” Calum shrugged. It wasn’t like he didn’t feel bad for Y/N, he just learnt long ago not to get into other people’s relationships. But Ashton was different, of course. They were much closer friends with Y/N and there were some other, well, pretty obvious reasons.

“He’s dating one of the most wonderful girls in the world,” Ashton started, looking at his friend like he was a complete idiot, “but instead of being with her and loving her, like she deserves, he’s in a bar cheating on her.”

“You don’t know everything, Ash,” Calum shook his head, while trying his hardest not to get into this argument. And pretty much failing.

“Like what? You think she deserves that?”

“Jesus, Ash, of course no!” Calum huffed in his glass. “No one deserves this. I just-” he threw another glance at the guy. “Maybe he has a twin brother.”

Ashton laughed, loudly and quite sad. He looked at Y/N’s guy again and his face fell.

“How am I gonna tell her that?” he asked.

Calum looked at his friend, thinking of a better answer. “You can keep it to yourself,” he finally said what he really believed in. Calum knew Ash would never agree on that, but honesty was one of the main principles of their friendship, and Cal wasn’t ready to break it, even for the sake of a girl his brother was in love with.

Ashton gave him a long heavy stare. “Are you even serious right now?” “Dude, not all the people wanna hear such things, you know,” Calum tried to explain. “Have you had a talk with her about that? Are you sure she would like to know and to know from you? You won’t believe how many people would choose to live in ignorance.”

“No, you don’t know what you’re talking about, mate,” Ashton was fast to dismiss all his arguments. “I know her, okay? I know Y/N, she would like to know. I just need to figure out how to break it on her,” he sighed. Then he downed his whiskey and ordered one more.

“Hey, buddy, that’s not the best idea,” Calum tried to stop him, but it seemed like Ashton didn’t even hear him.

“I just don’t get it,” the drummer huffed and went on drinking. “She’s smart and funny and it’s so easy to talk to her. I can literally talk to her about everything. And she’s the kindest person ever, so supportive and thoughtful. How can they keep doing this to her?”

Calum sighed. He knew for sure what was gonna happen next. “She’s your friend, Ash, obviously for you she’s one of the best-”

“No, you don’t get it. She’s not one of the best. She is the best,” he stated passionately. “She’s the most beautiful woman in the whole world. And, god, I shouldn’t think this way about her, but she’s so sexy, Cal! It’s like-” he took another gulp of his drink. “It’s the hardest part of being her friend. She’s unbelievably hot. And he can have her, but chooses to have that,” he motioned to Y/N’s boyfriend. “Seriously, man, what’s your problem?” he exclaimed loudly enough.

“Okay, buddy, let’s keep it low, shall we?” Calum cooed, patting his shoulder and turning him back to the bar counter. “We don’t need a scene.”

“I’m alright, I just-” Ashton stumbled.

“You just what, buddy?”

Ashton sighed and looked at his best friend, his eyes full of sorrow. “I just love her so much, Cal, how can I break her heart like that?”

Calum smile softly and answered, “Here’s a revolutionary idea, Ash. How about telling her all that?”

“Of course, I’m gonna tell her, did you even listen to me?” Ash rolled his eyes.

“No no no, not about her douchebag of a boyfriend,” Calum shook his head, smile still on his face. “About how you love her. And all the things you’ve said about her, how she’s the best, you know?”

Ashton sent his way another heavy look and indulged in his drink.

“You know I can’t do that,” he mumbled couple minutes later. “She deserves someone better than me.”

***

You were sitting on your couch with a glass of wine in the shittiest mood ever.

And what was not to be angry and upset about. You’d just been dumped after all. You huffed in your wine glass, recollecting on your most civilized break up. The worst thing was that you couldn’t even blame Nate. No, he didn’t do anything wrong. The only fault he had was not being the man you truly wanted to be with.

You rolled eyes on yourself. How pathetic you were in this longing after your own friend. Each time you were starting a new relationship, you did everything to finish them as soon as possible. Of course, not intentionally. You truly wanted to be with someone, to love someone who could love you back. But each time you were too restrained, too closed off. And naturally your partners felt it. No matter how much you wanted your relationship to work, you just couldn’t devote to them fully. Cause deep down inside, in your subconscious, hidden from the light, there was a question. The question you’ve kept asking those long sleepless nights. If you ever had a chance with Ashton, how would it be? Would it be different? Would you feel different? Would he make you feel like you, real you, and not like you were playing a role you’d never bothered to learn properly? Whatever the answer was, one thing you always knew. If Ashton showed up on your threshold asking for a chance with him, you’d break any relationship in an instance.

So every your breakup was your doing. It was your fault. And what was even worse, you wasted your partner’s time shamelessly. You wasted Nate’s time. And Nate didn’t deserve that. He was kind and caring. And he was always honest with you. You treated him ill, you knew it.

You poured yourself more wine. Maybe you should have stopped dating for some time? At least till you could look at Ashton without lusting after him. You emotional status wasn’t healthy, obviously, so it was better to wait till Ash would be out of your system. You just needed a break. Just for now.

Harsh knock on your front door startled you. You looked at the door, not fully getting what you had to do. But when the knock repeated, followed by muffled “Oh, fuck, don’t tell me you’re not home!”, you realized you had to open.

“You’re home, great,” Ashton mumbled, basically falling into your apartment, as you opened the door for him.

You fixed the bathrobe you were in and looked at the drummer, who managed to stumble twice on the way to your couch.

“Are you drunk?” you asked wearily. Drunk Ashton always scared you a little. He was either super sad or super angry, and you weren’t sure yet which one you got tonight.

“Nah, just had a couple with Cal,” he answered and by how slowly he was speaking, you understood he had more than couple glasses.

“And where’s Cal?”

“He dropped me off here and went home,” Ashton yawned, slowly slouching down on the couch. “He’s been saying I should go home all night. But I needed to see you.”

You came closer, thought for a minute and sat on the coffee table in front of him. Ashton smiled to you drunkenly and fully lied down, fixing a cushion under his head.

“Need to tell you shit,” he went on explaining. “Bad shit. Really, really bad shit. You’ll hate me for it,” he added, his voice sad and low.

You looked at him with a smile. “I could never hate you, Ash,” you answered quietly, thinking he was already asleep.

But then he opened his eyes and looked at you, confusion on his face. It looked so funny, drunk and confused Ashton lying on your couch, you even wished you had your phone with you to take a picture.

“How can you be so sure? You don’t even know what I’m about to tell you.”

“Whatever you tell me, it won’t be enough to make me hate you.”

It was almost sad how true those words were. You’ve loved him for years, let him call you his friend, saw his half naked one night stands leave his bedroom in the mornings. You were positive, nothing in this world could make you hate him, if even your broken bleeding heart couldn’t force you to do it.

“I was in a bar with Cal,” Ashton stated.

“Yeah, you told me already.”

“No no no, you don’t get it,” Ashton scrunched his face. “I was in a bar with Cal. And there was that wanker you’re dating, what’s his name again?”

“Nate?” your insides froze. Was it possible, that Nate actually knew about your feelings to Ashton. Did he say anything to him?

“Yeah, that wanker. How do you manage to choose such losers, doll?” Ashton asked you, but before you could come up with at least some answer, he already continued. “So he was there and he was kissing some other girl.”

You kept gaping at Ashton.

“There, you can hate me now,” he finished, yawned again and closed his eyes.

You stroke his hair and smiled again.

“I don't hate you.”

“But I just told you your guy is cheating on you!” Ash exclaimed.

“He was not cheating on me, we’ve broken up.”

“What?” Ashton opened his eyes again. You nodded in confirmation of your words. “That doesn’t matter, he could wait, show you some respect. Why do you always choose such losers?” he repeated his question.

You sighed, not really knowing what to answer to that. Were they really losers? Or was it you, a loser in love with your own friend?

“You deserve so much better,” Ashton muttered, while you were thinking about your answer. His speech was getting quieter and slower, he was slowly drifting off to sleep. But then he added with sorrow, “If only I could love you, I’d treated you like a queen you are.”

“You wanna love me?” you shot back before you could think what you were saying.

“Of fucking course I wanna love you, doll,” he frowned, his eyes are still closed. “I wanna love you and care for you. I wanna come back home to you every night and call you seven times a day from the tour like Mike does to Crystal. And I wanna touch you and kiss you, wanna kiss every inch of your body. Hell, I wanna eat you up like a candy. But oh well, you’ll never know anyway, so what’s the point.”

He tugged himself further in you couch, let out the final yawn and fell asleep. Leaving you stare at him mindlessly. You felt like some part of your world, really important part of it, had just crashed down, but you had no idea what it meant for you or what you felt about it.

You stood up, your limbs hardly moving. Looked at a six foot tall giant, crouched on your too short for him couch, and thought how he’ll be sore in the morning. You covered him with a blanket, which was thrown over an armchair, and went to your bedroom to spend yet another sleepless night because of Ashton fucking Irwin.

***

Long moan, full of pain and regret, was the first thing you heard from Ashton in the morning. You were surprised he woke up so early, it wasn’t even seven yet, but you were also extremely happy about this fact, as you didn’t manage to find your rest last night. You spent several hours staring at your ceiling and guessing if he really had said all those things, or you just imagined them. And trying to predict what it would mean for your friendship. You were angry and confused. You felt a newborn hope inside, starting to bloom from his drunk confessions, but were so scared to let it grow. He did keep all those things from you, obviously he had a reason. Judging by that, he didn’t want to be with you. But still he said he wanted to love you. So did he? Or didn’t he?

God, you were tired. Not only from the last night, full of discoveries and doubts. Standing in your kitchen and listening to his moans and curses, you realized you were tired of Ashton, of all the sadness and distress he brought in your life.

Ashton appeared in the door frame. His shirt was crumpled, just as his face. He was rubbing his eyes, messy curls falling on different sides of his face. He stumbled over to the chair and gave you a hard look.

“Hey,” he muttered.

“Hey,” you echoed.

You felt a change in your feelings. You had no idea how much of last night he remembered. And it wasn’t like seeing him made you less angry. If anything, your annoyance only got stronger. But at the same time you felt nervous, you were almost scared of everything that was about to happen.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m really glad I woke up on your couch and not on the pavement somewhere,” Ashton said, distracting you from your worries, “but how did I get here?”

So he didn’t remember. Or was he just acting he didn’t remember not to discuss it? You shook your head lightly. The questions were endless, fueled by your fear of losing something you’d spent years dreaming about. You just had to shut your subconscious up and go with the floow.

“You came,” you shrugged, rushing to answer his question. “Said Calum dropped you off.”

“Can’t remember a thing,” he mused out loud, hiding his face in his hands.

“So, why did you get so drunk?” you asked, your slightly shaking hands clenched in fists.

Ashton put his hands away from his face and frowned, remembering what he could from the previous night.

“You know, the day was hard, and the week even harder.”

“So it wasn’t because you saw Nate kissing some other girl in the bar you were with Cal at?”

He closed his eyes and let out under his breath, “Shit, Y/N, I’m so sorry, you shouldn’t have found out like that.”

“Old news,” you dropped, examining his reaction. You’d know Ashton for several years already. Hell, you’d loved him almost all this time. You knew he wasn’t lying or acting. He didn’t remember last night.

“How is that old news?” Ashton frowned, more surprised by your tone, than your actual words.

“We broke up, so he can basically kiss whoever he wants,” you explained and crossed your arms, feeling insecure under his stare all of the sudden.

“Okay,” Ash said, his eyes not leaving your face. “What else did I say?”

You chuckled, anger spreading over your face. “Well, after informing me about Nate’s dissolute behaviour, you went on how I always choose losers-”

“Fuck, I’m so sorry,” Ashton interrupted you, “I swear, I’m never drinking again. I-”

“But I think the highlight of the evening,” you kept telling him, not paying any attention to his apology, “was definitely the moment you stated you want to eat me up like a candy.”

Ashton choke on his own breath. He looked up on you, eyes full of pure terror. He didn’t say anything, and neither did you.

“You-” he started in whisper, but hesitated.

“Is that true?” you rushed him.

“What exactly?”

“That you want to eat me up like a candy!”

He winced. “You don’t have to repeat that.”

“Well I’m sorry. I kinda spent the whole night playing on repeat my best friend telling me he wanted to eat me up like a candy! Can’t get it out of my mind now!”

“You weren’t supposed to know. Especially not like this.”

His words were full of regret and that was what hurt you the most.

“Obviously, that was the only possible way for me to find out,” you shrugged. “Why?”

Your sudden question took him by surprise. Ashton looked at you, confusion on his face.

“Why wasn’t I suppose to know?”

He sighed, and looked down on his hands. You waited. A minute passed, but he kept sitting there in silence, the lack of answers playing on your nerves.

“Why, Ashton?” you almost yelled at him.

“Because I’m not the one you need!” he threw back.

You gaped at him as he went on. “I’m out of the city seven months a year. You deserve someone who’d be there for you. Not the guy for whom late night calls and occasional facetimes are the only option. I have no idea what other shit I told you yesterday, Y/N, but I guess you could read between the lines, if I didn’t say this,” he took a deep breath and admitted, “I love you. I’m in love with you. And I know better than anyone, I don’t deserve you a bit.”

You nodded, looking at him. Then looked at the kitchen island, separating the two of you, picked up a mug you’d taken out of the cupboard earlier and threw it right in Ashton’s head.

He dodged by some miracle, not less, his reactions are naturally slowed down by his hangover.

“What are you-” he tried to question you, looking back at the pieces of ceramics on the floor behind him, but had to stop, as the next mug flew in his direction.

He stepped aside, dodging from this one, and looked at you. You opened the cupboard, took the first piece you could find and prepared to the next throw, when he yelled, “Not this one, that’s your grandma’s set!”

You looked at the old china cup, put it down on the counter carefully and turned to the pile of IKEA plates.

“Jesus Christ, can you stop? What is-”

But you threw the plate, making him hide behind the island.

“You don’t deserve me?” you yelled at him.

Ashton peeked from under the kitchen island, but instantly hid back as you send another plate his way.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Stand up and face me like a man, Ashton!”

He stood up carefully, took a step to the side of the island. “I would love to face you, if you weren’t about to tear my head down, doll,” he chuckled cautiously while keeping moving.

“Well you fully deserve that, asshole!” another plate was smashed on the wall behind him. You were getting better at aiming with every other throw, and that was making Ashton nervous.

“Can you, please stop trying to kill me?”

“How dare you say things like that to me?” you shouted back, not even getting what he was talking about, your full attention on your own pain and fury. “I’ve been going crazy for years, Ashton!” you threw another one. “Feeling guilty for falling for my best friend! Getting insecure cause you’ve never even looked my way, brining all those models and groupies at my parties. Breaking up with normal guys cause I couldn’t get you out of my head!” you threw the last plate you had in your hands and looked around in search for the next shell.

“And all of these for you to spill your drunk guts one night? For me to learn that you actually had feeling for me accidentally?” you picked up a small pan from your stove and threw it. “Fuck you, Ashton!”

“Okay, this is too much!” Ashton muttered, looking at the pan flying past him. “Do you- Do you love me?” he asked, turning to you, realization creeping up him slowly.

You stopped, breathing hard and met his eyes. “I don’t. I hate you. I can’t put into words how much I hate! Why haven’t you ever told me? Not even given a hint?”

“And why haven’t you?”

You felt a hole left in your heart by this question. You were standing in your kitchen surrounded by shattered dishes, both wide-eyed, breathless and shocked. You couldn’t believe the words he’d just said. He was afraid of the reaction they may cause.

“Get out, Ashton,” you whispered, feeling the lump in your throat. Your eyes burnt with tears about fall.

He took a step towards you.

“Get the fuck out,” you repeated.

He smirked, covered the distance between you two in couple more steps and pulled you into him. What he didn’t envisaged was that you had just enough time to grab a spatula and start hitting him with it.

“Can you- just- not-” he stumbled through his words, one hand grabbing yours with the spatula, and another trying to keep you close to him. You two struggled for some time before he bent down to you and covered your mouth with his.

Even the kiss was a struggle. Your knees were shaking from the feeling, but you kept trying to bite him. Ashton huffed, let go of your lips and looked at you, his sight heavy, but you recognized little devils dancing deep inside his eyes.

“Try to bite me or hit me again, and I won’t eat you up,” he threatened.

You froze. You were still furious with him, you really were. But not to the point of risking the prospect of being eaten up by this man. After everything that asshole put you through, you were positive you deserved some special treatment.

He looked you in the eyes and smirked, taking in your obedience.

“Good girl,” he mused and kissed you again, this time deeper, with more passion and lust. “Now, how about moving this argument to the bedroom?” he asked, picking you up from the floor and turning around. “What do you say, my little candy?”

“Oh, gosh,” you chuckled into his neck, you face turning bright red. You knew the nickname would stick, but right now, in the arms of the man you’d been dreaming about for so long, you had nothing against it.

***

Taglist: @myloverboyash, @bringmethehorizonandpizza, @calumamongmen, @lfwallscouldtalk, @empathycth, @calpops, @talkfastang, @cthoodsthetic, @ariannawoodxoxo, @dreamer-loves-lyrics, @fluffsshawn, @cals-cigarette, @easierfor5sos, @outlandishnerd

#anne's21st #5sos #ashton irwin #ashton irwin imagine #ashton irwin one shot #ashton irwin fanfiction #ashton irwin fic #ashton irwin blurb #ashton5sos #5 seconds of summer #5 secondss of summer fic #5 seconds of summer fanfiction #5 seconds of summer imagine #5 seconds of summer blurb #my writing

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budugaapologist · 4 years

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when you are reading this rant take full offense its 2am here and im mad as hell

fair warning this post is long as fuck and has several arguments pertaining to specific peeves i need to rant about before i go crazy. if you're not interested just keep scrolling it's not hard it's literally the core of social media navigation

you know what? ima say it.

black flag is the best ac game and deserves more recognition than just pirate drinking jokes because:

nearly every named character (sorry burgess and cockram) has development and personalities. cant say that for that many others in other games.

not too much fucking shit to do in it (unlike uhhhhhhhh every fucking other game in the franchise. stop it. i dont need 500 treasure chests in arno's game he already has an excellent revenue with the cafe. i dont need a ton of side quests. i dont need 30+ chests per london burough. i dont need a million question marks on my map. i dont need all of egypt or greece to be littered with shit to do. fuck this.).

unlocking shit is so much easier. edward knows where every treasure chest is and doesnt pay for treasure maps. and literally unlocking shit is so much easier.

base is slept on. its fucking cool. its fucking fun. its fucking useful as shit. its fucking pretty as all hell. fuck you.

good story, fun story, great dlc, relatable story (unless youre some bootlicking cowardly rich cunt) emotional story but not depressing (unity im looking at your ending. origins stop killing children.), satisfying end.

i can do the combat with one hand. you know what that means? i can eat and drink without pausing. i can reply to text messages without pausing. i can pet my dogs and cats while playing.

main character actually has changed by the end of the game a vast amount. motherfucker, edward changed more in his antó mission than ezio did in his trilogy.

if you dont complete all objectives you still have a passing score on the mission. do you know what its like to be raised to only get good grades on stuff and see yourself getting a 60% on a thing thats supposed to be a pass time just because you forgot something.

the naval combat isnt hard you just need practice. also i know the hunter ship sucks in the first mission you encounter but literally drop your sails but hold the wheel. once its in view let go. swim to it. take out the crew. swim back. bada bing bada boom go oneshot the crew. incredible, you're safe now.

legendary ship battles are really fucking cool and my mom doesnt yell at me for killing a giant beast for next to nothing.

the sea shanties and tavern songs slap.

farm animal petting simulator. not forced to kill dogs (ac3, odyssey).

obviously its good if the other games are just gonna copy paste it.

ed's tattoos are sick.

edward is literally the first canon bisexual. he literally says so in game. he literally fucking flirts with blackbeard. he literally was a pirate. why the fuck do you think birate is such an accurate pun.

diving outfit.

thicc.

the female characters dont have titties all over the place. even anne's boobs arent that big, which is good considering she is underage. the same cannot be said for many of the women in ezio's games.

guess who has a solid, interesting, and realistic personality. not kassandra or alexios thats for sure.

he is NOT moved by man pain (ezio, connor, bayek) to carry out his missions. he didn't want to be poor, he wanted to be able to provide for his family. he is just carrying out his dream to sail a ship. when he starts being "good", he is doing it out of guilt and shame on his past self (what, self reflection? someone, teach jacob this term), not because "wahh my girlfriend/mom/child/family died :'(", he wanted to make it up to his lost friends by making them proud and doing what they wished he had done. his regrets are in not being a better friend while mary was alive, not seeking out her killers (guards at fort). thatch's death crushed him, but he didn't thrust his anger on seeking revenge. and the characters that did die? they had personalities and development and were interesting and memorable. i cant tell you shit about cristina.

he is very respecting of women, especially for a white guy from the 1600s. he, as a teenager (under 17 i believe), attempted to save a woman he did not know and had no intentions of wooing (hey um ezio? you literally only were able to save cristina from being raped because you stalked her because you thought she was attractive. like thanks for saving her but uhh am i the only one that finds that creepy?) even though the odds of winning against three older men were stacked against him and he knew they could (and almost did) beat him to death. fuck if caroline wasnt there he would've been killed.

the modern day stuff is an excellent way to separate intense scenes and the little mini hacking games are fun puzzles. oh boohoo desmond isn't there? yes he was, half the things you hack literally give you desmond content.

rebecca's outfit fucking slaps.

from experience, its fun to play even if you dont know shit about the other ac games. pirates are cool and the story is easy to follow, just be prepared to find some of the other endings big letdowns or lots of the other games' missions boring.

is that fanservice that goes both ways but doesnt oversexualize any gender? why yes, it is!

stop reducing black flag to alcoholism jokes like yall constantly fucking do, it has so many other talking points and if you wanna make fun of something maybe choose something that isnt addiction. literally i make fun of edward constantly without pointing out his alcoholism it isnt that hard. if you're gonna make fun of edward for drinking rum when water in the 1700s often wasnt safe and making fun of him when he was depressed (he has multiple other intended self harming behaviors shown in game so no, he wasnt just drinking because its fun), why don't i see the same "wHy is aLL tHe WiNE gONe?" posts for arno? he was an alcoholic too. in fact arno and edward have a lot of the same forms of depression but oh, arno's a more serious character personality wise and isn't a pirate so his grieving isn't as funny.

and like, there are plenty of other things to make fun of with edward that might not make light of alcoholism because no, edward's drinking in the main story was not written to be a joke. here, a list of things i regularly make fun of him for:

this highwaisted man's got feminine hips

there is no reason for him to be that thicc

his bangs are a mess

his hair???? glows???? okay rapunzel.

his tatts that are just lines

actually you know what his tatts in general what do they mean ubisoft what even language are the words on his body in

how this whore opens the bottled messages on the beach. "ah yes, let me put this mysterious item in my mouth. i have no idea where its been. i could very well open it to read a note that says "i pissed on this""

"woman i just met... must respect her.. man i just met... im either going to give you a death threat, tease you, or flirt... sometimes multiple choices will be done......"

i mean he had the full right to be a bastard to walpole on the beach since he did try to be friendly but walpole was being to bitchy and needy. and like them being stranded wasnt edward's fault but walpole was still gonna make him build a ship and there is no reason for edward to trust walpole since after they get to havana he can easily just be like "thats a pirate, hang him." but like. the way he just immediately decides to steal his identity. legend.

why does he just blindly follow older men's orders like that

he trims his beard to a very odd location. i know it isn't a flattering pose but like. look at the underside of his jaw.

"how many references to dog behavior can we put in one character"

phobia of sleeping in a bed

"you saved my life i am eternally grateful."

edward are you seriously arguing with your eight year old daughter about the difference between a boat and a ship

where are your tanlines

how did he not die of skin cancer first

edward probably doesnt have any body hair because ubisoft didnt want his legs to glow in the dark too

look at his marooned outfit. bitch what the fuck is on your shirt. and where are your hair ties.

his dramatic beauty guru smokey eyes

he held that sword by the blade in the single madman quest. wh

anyway, the long run of this is, if you're gonna reblog an edward post from me specifically to make fun of an overused joke, go fuck yourself.

#edward #ac4 #i talk #assassins creed #im tired #and im tired of it!#im not saying to make fun of arno's alcoholism btw #just... just because edward tends to behave a little happier doesnt mean he is #both these men are depressed but like fuck mental disorders i guess

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sukarabia · 3 years

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Cater x Mary-Ann - Birthday Present

Disclaimer: a little something I wrote in a rush for Cater’s bday, but happy birthday bby and thank you so much for coming home so quickly <3 + sereia is Kirs’ OC, not mine ~

“.. Haaa... finally, this is over... ugh, that teacher just wouldn’t stop rambling, I couldn’t focus on my quest..” Idia sighed as he exited the classroom. “Can’t believe I got forced to attend... Well, time to go home, and-”

“Idiacchi!!!”

“... Huh?” Idia stopped in his track. “N-no... that can’t be...”

“Ah, I got so scared I wouldn’t make it in time ~” As he prepared to rush towards the exit, Idia felt a hand grasp his shoulder. N-Not again... he thought as he turned around.

“... Mary-Ann-shi, I am busy with something today, so I cannot help with the class content. If you-”

“You got it all wrong Idiacchi, I’m not here to ask for a cramming class- although...” Mary-Ann saw Idia’s disheartened face, and waved her hands. “I mean it!! I’m here to ask for another favour.”

“A favour...? This sucks... The quest ends in 10 hours, so I don’t have time to waste-”

“Please!!!” Mary-Ann bowed, clasping her hands together. “I promise I’ll login daily on any game you want to send you login bonuses ‘n stuff!!!” She looked up to see Idia’s expression. Perfect, she thought. He baited. “I’m here because I need your help with online shopping.”

Idia took a few seconds to process what his classmate had just told him. Online shopping...? Not that he cared, but Mary-Ann seemed like the type who’d spend her spare time browsing online for fashion items, or whatever stuff those extroverts do- why would she ask him of all people for help?

“... Mary-Ann-shi, I’m not sure why you’re even asking me... I doubt we shop for similar items, you know.”

“I’m not asking you for recommendations ~ but for websites. You see...” Mary-Ann’s shoulders suddenly dropped as she let out a sigh. “... It’s Catercchi’s birthday in a few day, and I’m really struggling finding stuff for him.”

“... Cater? Aah, why are you even asking me this... Aren’t you both the extrovert duo? Wouldn’t you know better than I do? You’re wasting my time here...”

“.. Well, that’s the thing. I should, but...” For a split second, Idia thought he saw a glimpse of sadness in his classmate’s eyes. What a weirdo... “.. But no matter how hard I think, I can’t think of anything- and we’ve been friends for 3 years now, I don’t wanna get him some impersonal gift, y’know! Would you happen to know any websites with a wide range of choice?”

“W-What? Ah, I do, but... Well, I’ll just send them to you by text.. Here you go.”

“... Mary-Ann-san, could you please stop sighing.”

“But Sereiacchi, I just can’t find anything ~”

“Regardless, we’re in a library, so would you please keep quiet.”

Sereia sighed as she closed her book. From what she understood, Mary-Ann was present browsing for Cater after pestering Idia about online shopping websites, but judging from her friend’s expression, it wasn’t going well. For the past hour, Mary-Ann kept sighing and mumbling about how none of this was what she was looking for.

“How come you’re so lost about this?”

“Huh?” Mary-Ann looked up from her phone, startled.

“I mean, Idia-san is right. You two do spend a lot of time together, after all. As friends, shouldn’t you know what to get him?”

“Well, that’s the thing...” Mary-Ann rested her chin on her hand, looking far into the distance with a pensive expression. “... Y’know, Sereiacchi, I think Catercchi and you are more similar than you’d think.”

“And why is that?”

“... Dunno. You guys might act a certain way but sometimes... I don’t know. Sometimes, it feels like you’re both rea~lly sad inside... or something? Ugh.” Mary-Ann suddenly banged her head on the table, startling Sereia. “I hate this... I’m not good at perceiving things, or understanding how people think... But I have this feeling that if I get Catercchi something he talked about, like this new popular jacket ~ or this trendy bracelet ~ it wouldn’t be what he truly wants...”

“... You’re more perceptive that you give yourself credit for, Mary-Ann-san.” Sereia whispered, closing her book.

“Huh? Did ya say anything?”

“... No, not at all. But if he told you that he wanted something, why don’t you get him that? It would avoid wasting your time browsing online when we have a test tomorrow.”

“... Aaah, that sucks, I completely forgot about the test tomorrow... ugh, what am I gonna do...”

Mary-Ann returned to her phone, browsing with a worried expression. What would he even want... She had asked Trey about it earlier, but her childhood friend just replied that instead of getting him a gift, they should cook him some of his favourite foods. Which she agreed with- but hearing Trey talk about that made the uneasy feeling inside her swell even bigger. For two years, she kept dragging Cater to her favourite bakery to try out the cakes together. She thought he liked them too, as he kept snapping pictures, and assumed that he would never finish them simply because he didn’t have much of an appetite. But when Trey told her that it was most probably because he just didn’t like sweets, she felt incredibly guilty about it. If only I was more perceptive like Trey... It might be dumb, but she really wanted to redeem herself with that gift- to prove to Cater, and to herself, that she could be considerate, too.

“.. Oya, Mary-Ann. What brings you here?”

“Liliacchi...”

“Oh? Why the long face?” Lilia’s eye widened at the sight of Mary-Ann walking into Diasomnia, eyes surrounded by very dark eyebags. “Did you not get much sleep because of today’s test?”

“Nah, wish I took my education that seriously to begin with.” She sighed as she plopped to the seat in front of Lilia.

“Then, is it perhaps some internal trouble at Heartslabyul?”

“... Well, you could say that, kinda. It’s about..”

“... Oh, I see. You’re worried about getting a gift that wouldn’t make Cater happy, yes?”

“Yeah, exactly.” Mary-Ann threw her head back, closing her eyes. “It’s like... He did tell me what he wanted, but... Kinda felt like he didn’t mean it, y’know? And, I don’t know...”

“.. Yes?”

“... I kinda feel like I haven’t done enough for him... As a friend? I’m not as dependable as Trey, neither am I as smart as Riddlecchi, but just this once...” Her voice trailed off as she opened her eye, glaring at the light above her. “... Just this once, I wanna do something for him, too.”

“... Oh-oh, it seems like there is a misunderstanding here.”

“Huh?” Mary-Ann jerked back into a seated position, looking at Lilia with a startled expression.

“The fact that you are worrying about this in the first place shows that you are dependable as a friend, doesn’t it? Not a lot of people would..” He gestured to the young girl’s eyebags with a chuckle. “... Obviously stay up all night just to find a gift. That, too, is your strength as a friend.”

“... Mmh, I suppose you’re right.” For the first time in a while, Mary-Ann felt a smile creep up to her lips. “But no matter the intention, it won’t do any good if I can’t find something in time...”

“I see. So you thought, coming here, that I would have a more precise idea about a present that would make him happy, correct?”

“Yeah, exactly. Dunno, you guys spend a lot of time together in music club, sooo...”

“.. Well, I am sorry to disappoint, but I don’t.” Mary-Ann sighed for the umpteenth time today. Why was this so hard... “... However, I may have advice for you.”

“Huh? Advice? Well, any kind of help is welcome, at this point...”

“Ahah, very well. I like your fighting spirit. Well then. You worry about not being dependable like Trey, or smart like Riddle- in short, you worry about taking things at face value, and not being perceptive enough, am I correct?” Mary-Ann nodded. “That, too, can be a strength in its own right. In your three years of friendship, has there been any time that made you realise that Cater might not be honest, despite you not being aware of things that easily?”

“Well... Yeah, you’re right, there were a handful of times like that.”

“Very well, then. Please think about those times as precious- because that means that what he had hidden was so painful that it shone through even to someone as oblivious as you. I assume you see where I am getting at? If there is anything that could have made those times less excruciating for him...”

“... Yeah, got it.” Mary-Ann got up, a confident expression on her face. “Thanks, Liliacchi. I think I finally have an idea!”

“Well, I’m glad to have been of help.” How troublesome these humans are... he thought as he smiled at her.

“Waaah, you guys prepared everything for me? Yay ~ I’m so happy, thank you everyone!”

“You’re welcome. Trey and Mary-Ann insisted that you have ramen instead of cake, which breaks the Queen of Hearts’ rule to only have cakes for birthdays, but I’ll let it slide just for this once.”

“Ahah, Riddle, as serious as ever...” Trey let out a small chuckle as he placed the ramen in front of Cater. “Cater, please dig in, it’s going to get cold.”

“Alright, I will ~ Huh? Mary-Ann-chan, what’s up? Whatcha looking all worried about?”

“A-Ah, nah, it’s nothing ~” Mar-Ann faked a smile, ushering Cater to eat. “Just, when you’re done, err... Could you come with me to the courtyard real quick?”

“Oh, sure, sure ~ Well then. Let me snap a pic... and... done! Happy bday to me ~”

“So, what did ya want? ~”

Cater and Mary-Ann strolled through the Heartslabyul gardens, as the blonde hid a small packet behind her back, nervously playing with her hair with her spare hand. Pretending not to notice, Cater marvelled about how the garden looked especially pretty during his birthday. They walked side by side for a while, with just Cater’s occasional interjections to occupy the suffocating silence. ... I gotta do this. Mary-Ann took a deep breath as she stopped in her tracks. Confused, Cater turned around, expecting her to say something.

“... What’s this, what’s this? Nee, Mary-Ann-chan, are you confessing to me? ~” Cater’s voice sounded confident, but there was just a falter of nervousness betraying his own state of mind. ... Did she notice?

“Don’t be stupid, Catercchi.” Thankfully for her friend, Mary-Ann was way too preoccupied by her own nervousness to realise what just happened. “... Well, y’know, it’s your birthday and all, so I thought I’d get you something, but...”

“... But?” Dusk was just setting as a gulf of wind brushed by Cater’s cheek.

“... Dunno, when you told me about what you wanted, it just... Kinda... Didn’t feel right?” Cater remained silent, waiting for her to continue. “... Like you were... forcing yourself to come up with something? Aah, this sucks, I can’t explain this properly...” Frustrated, Mary-Ann ran a hand through her hair. “... Well, my point is, sometimes, it feels like you’re... Not honest with yourself? And I had this impression that that jacket you asked for wouldn’t really make you happy, yknow... But I’m not like Trey or Riddlecchi, and I couldn’t come up with anything worthwhile because, I like, really suck at figuring people’s thoughts....”

She took a step closer to Cater, who just stood there in silence, surprised. He knew Mary-Ann was dense- in all senses of the term, so he was definitely not expecting her to notice that he had just said whatever as a present idea. Not knowing what to expect, he waited for his friend to continue.

“.... But I thought long and hard about something that would, you know, truly make you happy. And, I, uh... kinda came up with this... It definitely isn’t anything big, and it might not even mean anything to you, but....”

She handed a small red packet to Cater, slightly blushing as she adverted her eyes. Her hands were slightly trembling as he took the present from her hands. Slowly, he began unwrapping it- only to be met with a small silver keychain with a bright blue gem at the end of it. Confused, he looked up to meet her eyes. Not that it was ugly- quite the opposite actually, it was definitely his style, but..

“.. Ah! Maybe I should explain what it is... Ugh, sorry.” Mary-Ann sighed. “D’you remember, during the Stargazer festival? When Trey and I came to your room to ask for your wish, you wished to enjoy your school life and stuff, right?” Cater nodded. “Well, I kinda felt like... You were hiding your true wish, for some reason? And I’m definitely not perceptive enough to know why, so... I just thought I’d give you another chance at it.”

“Another... Chance?”

“Uh-uh. That keychain is a replica of a wishing star. It’s kinda not a magic stone, more like a good-luck charm, but...” She looked up to meet Cater’s eyes. The setting dusk made his emerald eyes stand out even more, as she nervously twirled a strand of hair around her finger. “.... I wondered if, maybe, this time, you could wish for what you truly wanted... without us knowing.”

Cater remained speechless for a few seconds that felt like an eternity to Mary-Ann. Ugh, I knew it, he doesn’t like it. Maybe I should have just asked Kalim-

All of a sudden, she felt Cater’s arms surrounding her, as he pulled her into a tight hug. She was used to his displays of affection, and it definitely wasn’t the first time they hugged, but for some reason, this time... It felt different. Not knowing how to react, Mary-Ann remained still, nervously waiting for Cater to say something.

“.... Thank you, Mary-Ann. I’ll treasure it.”

Mary-Ann smiled, humming a small “It’s nothing” as she returned her friend’s embrace. But while she rested her forehead on his shoulder, what she couldn’t see was her friend’s moist eyes, as he fought to hold back tears- and how red his cheeks were as his hands slightly trembled.

#Cater x Mary-Ann #twst yume

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afterreign · 4 years

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lovers is plural pairing: implied akeshu/shuake, background ann/shiho & ann/mika beta reader: @jubilantscribbler a/n: no p5r spoilers summary: The Phantom Thieves, an infamous name that empowers the young and instills fear in the corrupt, hold their most important meeting yet. Just who is Takamaki Ann, code name Panther, dating?

Today, Akira is not nervous. There are no battle strategies to discuss, no infiltration route to go over. He is free, not having to relentlessly plan out solutions for all of the potentially bad outcomes that could come to fruition in their next palace escapade.

(Although, he should do that, Morgana’s incessant pleas to sleep be damned.)

No, today is a day he can breathe easy. Today, he is confident.

Akira slides a 100 yen coin.

“Ann is definitely going out with Shiho.”

The response between the Phantom Thieves—sans Ann, of course—is mixed.

“Dude,” Ryuji deadpans, “for real? We’re makin’ bank, yet you’re only gonna bet, like, a coin?”

The weight, or lack thereof, to Akira’s wallet disagrees completely. “It’s fair,” he reasons, internally stomping away at the compulsion to present how truly empty his wallet is to everyone else. “Plus, we’re still high schoolers. College funds and stuff.”

The word “college” attracts the local student body president like a moth to a debt-filled flame. Ugh, third years. “While I would agree that saving up for college is admirable,” Makoto says with a laugh, “I believe we need to backtrack a little.”

Akira sucks in a breath when the brunette places an unwrinkled 1000 yen bill on the table. Makoto’s eyes shine a little. “I am placing my bets on… Mika-san.”

“Thank you!” Futaba, the resident shut-in, erupts, throwing her hands in the air. “I’m glad there’s some common sense here.”

This, of course, ensues verbal chaos. Ryuji, lovely Ryuji with a heart of gold, slams his hands down on the table, protesting all of Futaba’s points. (“Have you seen her look at Shiho?!” the blond exclaims. “Hell, I want someone to look at me like that!”) Futaba spouts something about common media tropes and otome games and other concepts that fly right over top student Akira’s head. Makoto is somehow the mediator and instigator in all of this, proudly showing the group a selfie Ann and Mika took not too long ago. Haru smiles, looking a little too apologetic for wear, before presenting an even more recent photo of Shiho and Ann going on a stroll at the nearby park. And Yusuke, passionate as ever, presents their close-knit group a highly detailed pencil drawing of Ann and Mika looking deep into each other’s sparkling eyes, and okay, this is getting weird. Possibly bordering creepy, and—

Akechi is sitting there with a pained expression masked poorly. He is sipping his coffee cup. It has been empty for the past ten minutes.

“—I feel inspired gazing upon two colleagues enraptured with one another,” Yusuke finishes confessing. Akira, admittedly, hadn’t caught the earlier half. A none the wiser Yusuke nods sagely, eyes closed. “There is no doubt in my mind… Ann and Mika-san must be together.”

“But,” Haru starts, “I can’t help but see Ann and Suzui-san in a relationship. Is that odd? I haven’t had any time to talk to Suzui-san lately, but when she attended Shujin, the two seemed close.” A fond smile crosses the third year’s face. “I can’t help but be a little jealous actually!”

Akechi politely raises his hand. His laugh sounds like it’s being played straight from his TV interviews. “Aha, well. I see everyone is getting along today. But… considering we are not discussing anything Phantom Thieves related, do you mind if I go along my way and head home?”

Everyone rightfully ignores him. Akechi remains stuck in the table booth, likely resenting the fact he came in the first place.

(Akira almost feels bad for him. Almost.)

“Well, that’s that,” determines Akira. He’s not sure what he’s actually determining, though. There is a tone of finality in his voice, and Akira simply goes along with it. He glances at both sides of the booth they’re huddled in and surmises his thoughts aloud. “Me, Ryuji, and Haru think Ann is dating Shiho. Makoto, Yusuke, and Futaba believe she’s dating Mika.”

Ryuji looks pumped. “We need a tie-breaker!”

Makoto frowns. “You… are aware that we’re taking individual bets, correct? It doesn’t matter if one ‘team’ has more people than the other.”

“Matters to me,” grumbles Ryuji, and Akira pats him on the back.

Out of the corner of Akira’s eye, he catches Haru’s glossed lips making a perfect little “o.” If the thieves were in some classic cartoon, Akira has no doubt in his mind that one of those thinking light bulbs would be flickering just above a bed of curly locks, a stubborn screw you to the laws of gravity. “Oh, Akechi-kun!” Haru turns to the detective, a curious look on her face. The light bulb is all aglow. “What are your thoughts on the matter?”

Call it a hunch, but Akira is sure that Akechi is swimming in many thoughts by now. Just… not anything helpful. Instead of voicing out the worst of the worst, the brunet smiles a pleasant smile. It’s strained all the same. “Well,” he begins, “before I give you my answer, mind if I express my own questions?”

Futaba minds, apparently. She groans and dives her head between the safe space of her arms. Some of the others restrain themselves to do the same.

“Is it not strange that all of you are placing bets on Takamaki-san’s love life? Does this not feel all a bit too personal?” inquires Akechi, arms crossed. Despite how light his tone is, his stare bores straight into Makoto’s eyes, judging. “I’m especially surprised that you are participating in this as well.”

Akira always felt that there was some camaraderie between Makoto and Akechi. Hair color and motivations aside, both are at the top of their grades, high marks on all of their exams. The two teens are cunning and have a similar interest in law and speak softly when it matters most. They’re arguably the most mature of their group, but… they slip.

Right now is not one of those times.

Makoto doesn’t flinch. “You… must not know me well then, Akechi-kun,” she states. “I admit that once the rest of the Phantom Thieves proposed—” Makoto quickly waves a hand at everyone. “—this, I thought it was… immature, at first. But I soon came to understand that we do this because we care about Ann.”

“And it’s fun!” adds Ryuji. Yusuke is beside the blond, humming in agreement.

“Ann is always looking out for our feelings,” Haru explains, smoothing out her skirt. “Think of this as if… we’re looking out for hers. Ann is one of my dear friends, so of course, I want to support her in a happy and healthy relationship.” Graciously, she covers a giggle behind her hand. “Although, I do think we get carried away.”

Murmurs of agreement surface between the team. And of course, Akira knows this isn’t about money. This isn’t about who’s right or wrong. It’s about Ann’s infectious laugh, about her overflowing sympathy for other people. It’s about Ann because Akira cares about his friends, and he wants the best for her—

“But are we not certain that Ann is dating Mika?” Yusuke asks, pure confusion in his voice.

—but he can still think his friends are factually wrong.

Before the debate has a chance to start up again, Akechi cuts in with a clean, “First, let’s get that tie-breaker vote in, shall we?”

“Oh, now he cares,” Ryuji scoffs.

Suddenly, Akira hears a small gasp. He turns his head to the not-so-mysterious source and finds a shocked Futaba gaping at no one in particular. “We forgot to ask Mona!” she yelps, startling everyone else from the calm. The shut-in whips her head away from everyone and begins shouting at the staircase. “Hey, Mona! Mona!”

For once, Akira is glad Sojiro decided not to stay and make the gang lunch.

It takes a few moments before Akira hears the creak of Leblanc’s wooden stairs. Slowly, Morgana’s nose peeks out from behind the rails before his head and his furry body follow suit. He moves down each step, one careful paw after the other, before dragging his dark tail across the white tile floor and hopping onto the table.

Oh, the bespectacled boy thinks belatedly.

Morgana is sulking.

Triangular ears are flat against his head. “Yeah, yeah, I’m here,” the feline-but-not-really says with a sigh.

Ryuji makes a low whistle and leans back into his seat. The booth does not bother to budge. “Damn, and I thought you liked talkin’ about your ‘Lady Ann,’ Mona.”

Akira does not miss Morgana’s withering look. In an effort to placate him, the teen reaches over and strokes Morgana’s favorite spot on his head despite the not-cat’s silent protests. Akira then leans over and speaks low into Morgana’s ears. “You don’t need to be here if you don’t want to. I know you wanted to skip out since…”

The silence speaks for itself. Morgana looks at him, and the former appears deep in thought, tail swaying as if searching for answers. Eventually, the tail comes to a halt. “Thanks,” he purrs, and Akira isn’t entirely convinced if it’s intentional or not. “But I got this.”

Akira feels a tug at the corners of his mouth. Satisfied, he leans back, watching Morgana take center stage.

“As someone who knows Lady Ann the best,” Morgana declares, chin held high, “I think it’s important that we consider other options. What if she isn’t dating any of them?”

Leblanc’s resident dyed blond groans. “You’re only saying that ‘cause you like her!”

“Am not!”

“Uh,” Futaba butts in, “are we gonna ignore the fact that none of us updated Mona on what we’re talking about, yet he still responds like he’s been here?”

Morgana seethes out an impatient “I live here,” while Akira says effectively the same thing, only with a switch of the pronouns. Okay, that didn’t work. Clearly, Akira needs a new plan—one that involves less bickering with an animal so they don’t all look insane when an innocent customer decides to walk in and witnesses the incarnate of chaos and more… amicable relations. More bets, perhaps.

Curiously enough, it’s Haru who takes the reins, sending Akira a small smile before speaking up. “Maybe if Mona-chan understands why we think Ann has a significant other, he can decide for himself.”

Akira may be a heathen, but God bless Haru.

As Akira is internally singing his praises, the conversation thankfully segues back to Ann and a hyper analysis of her love life. Futaba mentions how she first found out about Ann’s secret romance after forgetting to debug the café. (Akechi then sends Akira an alarmed look the latter chooses to dutifully ignore.) Haru continues that line of thought, recalling Ann’s inquiries regarding the language of flowers and the like, and Akira makes sure to ignore that tinge of jealousy stirring in his stomach even though he knows that Ann knows his hard work in memorizing a bunch of flower symbolism for his job in the underground mall.

He sighs and mentally sweeps his slight envy under the rug. Priorities, Akira.

It’s not until Makoto clears her throat and poses the daunting question of “So, do you believe us?” to Morgana that all eyes fall back on the not-cat, waiting patiently.

The sway of his tail falters. “... Yes,” he bites out. Morgana’s face contorts like he’s devoured a lemon. “Guess this is what you unrequited love, huh?”

Luckily, Ryuji has the decency to stay quiet as Haru breathes an apologetic “Oh, Mona-chan…” and pets the not-cat’s torso.

The group falls into an almost comfortable silence, save for Morgana’s drooping ears that nearly makes Akira leap forward and shower him with many affectionate head pats. Akira otherwise lets his mind wander. He drifts between the scent of Sojiro’s curry ingrained in the dark walls of Leblanc and his daydream of a flustered Ann grasping the hands of a faceless lover, rotating from Mika to Shiho to a mixture of the two’s features. The arch of the rival model’s groomed eyebrows and the doe eyes of the ex-Shujin student are rolled into one.

Features, Akira absently thinks, and for some reason, his eyes linger on the jaunt of a certain detective’s chin, the curve of his lithe neck, the way he carefully tucks a chestnut-colored lock behind his ear. His eyebrows, not unlike Mika’s, are furrowed. Dark, gloved hands hold a gray smartphone that is definitely not bugged by someone that rhymes with Fakura Sutaba, and hazel eyes—red, if you catch them when the glint of the sunlight hits them just right—are fixated on the screen.

It shouldn’t come as a surprise when Akechi of all people, the same Akechi who never dares to back away from a challenge, continues the conversation, not bothering to look up from his phone.

(But it does come as a surprise, oddly enough. Because Akira, jolted out of his daydream and thrusted into reality, is looking, and he feels like he shouldn’t be.)

“Have we come to a conclusion about our findings then?” Akechi questions, a thoughtful look on his face.

“Pardon me,” Yusuke voices, “but I assumed you held no interest in Ann’s love life like the rest of us.”

Akechi, lo and behold, bears another classic (read: fake) smile of his. “I don’t particularly. However, it seems like you all are stumped, and I do enjoy a good mystery. After all, I am a detective, aren’t I?”

Akira resists the urge to point out how the unknown identity of Ann’s girlfriend is a far cry from a good mystery, much less anything more than petty gossip when not discussed amongst friends. Instead, he motions the brunet to continue with a flick of the wrist.

Finally, Akechi looks up. “Have any of you considered the antithesis to Morgana’s hypothesis?”

Ryuji frowns. “The… what?”

“I believe Akechi-kun is talking about the opposite of what Morgana initially thought,” clarifies Makoto. “Which means…”

The gears in Akira’s head turn by the end of Makoto’s unfinished remark. His mind swims around antithesis and Ann and the underlying yet unknown connection between the two, trying to grasp at a lost thread he’s determined to find. (Anntithesis! his brain unhelpfully supplies a beat later before he dismisses it completely.) He thinks back to what the group assessed before: selfies, flowers, the like. Selfies, flowers, the like.

Selfies.

… Were they selfies?

Akira is backtracking now, attempting to recreate the images Makoto and Haru had shown the rest of the group earlier in his head. He closes his eyes and thinks. Mika and Ann’s picture can be excused as a selfie, sure. The two were pressed close together in the photograph, shoulders bumping and heads tilting inward to stay in frame. A part of Ann’s arm was cut off from where they took the picture. Sly smirks on both of their photogenic faces.

By all means, it’s a regular, old photo. A selfie, likely.

Then, what about Ann and Shiho’s? Akira recalls Inokashira Park as the backdrop of the image, an abundance of green flooding his vision. He’s quite familiar with the area, too; jogging with the former track star there whenever his body can endure the brutality of cardio is one form of torture Akira will never forget.

If he recalls correctly, the photo was awfully similar to its counterpart. Heads inclined towards one another, shared smiles, and⁠—

Ann and Shiho were holding up peace signs, both pairs of arms visible in frame.

It’s a cliché to gasp. Akira knows this and does it anyway because one, he is surprised and two, he loves being dramatic. The act earns a rather bemused look from Akechi that’s immediately disguised as a roll of the eyes.

The rest of the thieves follow suit as realization dawns on them. Makoto nods. Futaba blinks. Ryuji’s jaw drops. Haru, polite as ever, raises a hand to mask the shock evident on her face. Morgana’s eyes go and widen to the size of Kamoshida’s golden medal, round and shimmering and unbelievable.

Yusuke is the last one to come around, and he barely manages to gather his bearings in time to ask, “Can it truly be…?”

A delightful ping rings in the still air.

“See for yourself,” Akechi says, voice breezy, and slides his phone down on the table.

“Do you think they’ve seen your Instagram post?”

Shiho asks this while peering over Ann’s shoulder, watching the likes accumulate at a rapid speed. The end of her ponytail brushes against the blonde’s nape. Ann struggles to suppress a giggle.

“Oh, maybe?” It comes out unsure, reluctant. Ann taps her chin. ”But my phone hasn’t blown up with text messages yet. And trust me, I would know when my friends saw it.”

The other model waves it off, nonchalant. “They’ll figure out soon enough anyway." A pause. Then, Mika sighs. “Looks like the entire population of Tokyo will, too. I don’t know why you wanted to do this, but I’m sure our agency is going to love capitalizing on it…”

“Ugh, agency shmagency!” Ann, who has no concept of personal space when it comes to these two, gathers both of the girls in her arms and gives them a tight squeeze. “How can I hide away my two amazing girlfriends from the world?”

Mika rolls her eyes, but the dust of pink coloring her cheeks gives her away. “Is she always this corny?”

Shiho snickers. “Oh, one hundred percent.”

#persona 5 #p5 #akira kurusu #ren amamiya #goro akechi #ann takamaki #makoto niijima #ryuji sakamoto #fanfiction #fic #fanfic #来栖暁 #雨宮蓮 #高巻杏 #新島真 #坂本竜司

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