#like i used to call my old friend “baseball boy whenever he annoyed me

[jaceyneedsabetterusername]

Manhattan Sunsets

Pairing: Arvin Russel x Fem!Reader

Summary: Arvin gets stationed in Brooklyn after a tour in Vietnam but had never really gone into the city before. When he does, he meets Y/N, who makes it a point to get this small town boy to see the city. (Requested by @euphoriaoxygen​)

Warnings: Brief mentions of PTSD from the war

Word Count: 3950

A/N: Sorry this took so long to get out. I killed my computer, had to buy a new one, and then I had to catch up on school but I’m hoping to get more fics out. 

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When Arvin left Knockemstiff, he had no idea what he was planning to do with his life. What could he do? He murdered four people. The idea alone left him feeling sick to his stomach but he knew that at the end of the day, that was exactly what had happened. It wasn’t that he regretted any of it. Preston Teagarden had to pay for his role in Lenora’s suicide and the harm of who knows how many other girls. Carl, Sandy, and Sheriff Lee were all going to kill him first. He knew at least the last three were self-defense, but what did the police think? 

A few weeks had gone by since he left Knockemstiff, traveling to Cincinnati with that nice fella that had given him a ride. Those weeks had given him time to really sit and think about his future. That was when he realized that he didn’t really have plans. His entire life, he told himself he’d get out of Coal Creek eventually. The last thing he wanted to do was die in that little God forsaken town but, beyond that, he didn’t really know. He honestly figured that his life would begin whenever his grandmother and Uncle Earskell passed away so they didn’t need him to care for them anymore. That was all out of the cards now, though, knowing that he’d endanger them just by going back. 

On Tuesday of the third week, he found himself at a recruiter’s office in Fort Thomas, Kentucky, enlisting for the army. If he was being honest with himself, even as he signed the papers, he knew he didn’t want to go overseas. The Vietnam War was one that practically nobody supported, including Arvin. He never understood why the U.S. felt the need to be involved in a battle that had literally nothing to do with us but the army came with a bed to sleep in, food to eat, a paycheck, and some benefits after (if) you got out. All of those were things that Arvin desperately needed. 

Basic training was a breeze. He’d been hardened by years of manual labor, both around his grandmother’s farm and doing construction around town. The other men had initially poked fun at him for his accent and his seemingly smaller stature compared to some of the 6’0”+ giants. That all stopped though the first time they saw him shed his shirt, revealing a rippling six pack of abs beneath taught skin and arms that had definitely seen more work than half of these bigger men. 

After basic training, he found himself stationed at Fort Hamilton Army Base in Brooklyn, NY. The army life was pretty close to what he’d imagined: rigorous, demanding, exhausting. Shortly after “settling in” at Fort Hamilton (if you can call being there for two weeks “settling in”), he was deployed across seas to fight in the battle of Ia Drang Valley before returning shortly after. 

It was a Saturday morning and Arvin found himself picking through his food like he did every morning. With a heavy sigh, he set down his meal pack. 

“You alright?” Willard Kast, one of his friends that had survived Ia Drang with him, asked from across the table. 

Arvin began to nod but it turned more into a head shake, “Ya ever just feel like everythin’s the same?” 

Kast laughed, “Well, yeah,” He said as if it was obvious, “They don’t exactly have us here to have fun.” 

“Yeah, but I… I don’t know. Guess I just sorta feel like my life is going on around me but I’m not goin’ with it.” Arvin was never known to be the person who actually spoke about his feelings. For some reason though, this war had just brought out a sudden mortality crisis of sorts. Every time he thought back to those memories of everyone he’d lost, whether it be his mother, father, dog, sister, or war buddies, the dead, blank eyes that stared back at him only seemed to be ghosts of lives still unlived. He didn’t want to be haunted by those same spirits. 

Kast smacked Arvin’s arm and beckoned for him to stand up, “Alright, you, up. Now. You’re getting off base today.” 

“I don’t even know where I’d go if I left.” Arvin huffed, standing up. 

“That’s the fun of it. Just go! Get out of this God forsaken place. See what you find.” Kast had always been oddly upbeat, especially compared to all the people Arvin had ever known growing up. Maybe it was the fact that anything Arvin had ever done felt like an accumulation of negativity so that it felt like there was no “fun in it” as Kast would put it. His friend noticed his hesitation before adding, “You do know what fun is, right?” 

Arvin chuckled a little bit, “Honestly, I don’t know if I do.” 

Within the hour, Arvin found himself dressed in civilian clothes for the first time in a while, a plain white t-shirt with blue jeans and some old, beat-up, black converse with his denim jacket slung over his shoulders. It was getting into autumn now and, though the sun still shone, there was a chill in the breeze. 

Once he stepped off base, he started on his aimless wandering down the streets. Arvin looked up in awe at the tenements and office buildings, sometimes built over restaurants or drug stores. Even though he'd been stationed in Brooklyn for a little while now, he'd never actually taken the time to explore the city. This small town boy was almost overwhelmed. 

Horns of vehicles beeped occasionally and trains roared overhead on raised tracks. On many streets, kids played with balls or some version of baseball with a busted off plank of wood instead of a real bat. Some others were running around just playing tag. A small smile upturned the corner of his lips as he watched them laugh out of the corner of his eye. He wished he'd had something like this growing up. Friends.  

Off to his left, a drug store caught his eye and he dipped in to grab a pack of cigarettes. They didn’t have anything fancy, not that he needed anything that was. Just a pack of the most mediocre selection they had was what he’d left with, lighting one up as he continued his stroll down the street. 

He kept his baseball cap down low, trying to blend in with the rest of the passerby. Arvin had never been one for calling attention to himself. Even in a new place, like Brooklyn, he figured passing through unnoticed would be the best way to go. 

“Mother fu- Just work!” 

Arvin hadn’t had his curiosity piqued by much on this stroll through the city but the disgruntled groans of a girl definitely drew his attention. He slowed his walk just slightly and looked around for the root of the complaints. There was a group of kids playing jacks to his right on the steps leading into a tenement but it was clear that they weren’t the angry woman in question. 

Just ahead, to his left, a car was pulled off to the side of the street and you popped up from the front right side of your car, an annoyed look on your face. You pressed against the car and leaned back, stretching your back out for a moment, before kicking what he assumed to be the tire with a frustrated outcry. 

“Okay, okay…” You breathed, trying to calm down, an almost hysterically frustrated smile on your face, like when you’re so mad that you have no choice but to laugh because, if you don’t, you’re going to punch a wall. Again, you disappeared, crouching back down. Arvin couldn’t see what you were doing but judging by the dragging of metal, he assumed you were trying to fix a tire. 

Arvin approached the back of your car to see you knelt down, the knees of your flare jeans rubbed black from the pavement. You were leaning with all your might onto a bar that curved and hooked onto the bolts on your very flat tire. However, he was impressed to see the jack placed properly and already up in the right position- not that it was a woman thing…. He’d just seen plenty of idiots place the jack in the wrong place. 

“Sorry to bother but you look like you could use a hand.” Arvin offered politely, stepping closer. 

You turned to look at him with a start, not expecting anyone to speak. Arvin couldn’t help the small smile that crept on his face when he noticed the smear of grease across your cheek. Hair stuck up astray in a few places from you brushing it back and out of your face. 

It had always been a goal of yours to not need a man. You’d seen plenty of women in your life dependent on their husbands, daddies, and brothers to do everything for them and then seen them lose everything when they realized all they could do was cook and clean. Not to discredit cooking and cleaning as valuable life skills, because they absolutely were, but you were not going to be some damsel in distress whenever you needed an oil change or got a flat tire. 

But, as much as you hated to admit it, these bolts were giving you a run for your money. After having been at this for nearly twenty minutes to no avail, you sighed in defeat, “I mean, if you wouldn’t mind giving it a try, that would be real nice. I’ve been working at it for nearly twenty minutes and nothing.” 

“Here,” Arvin reached his hand out for the pull bar and you stepped aside to allow him room. He notched the socket over the bolt and pushed, trying to crack the bolt. You definitely weren’t exaggerating. Whoever put this on had done a number tightening it. Arvin tried again, leaning into the bar. The denim of his jacket tightened around his flexing muscles as he did so until, finally, it cracked loose and the bolt gave way, twisting. 

With a wipe of your hand across your face, you sighed. It took all your might to (unsuccessfully) not imagine the way this man’s muscles must have been bulging beneath his jacket as he cranked the bar. 

Once it cracked loose, it was easy work to get the bolt off. By the time Arvin had arrived, you’d already managed to get all but two bolts off so he continued to work on the last one without you asking. 

“Oh- I can get that!” You interjected, leaning down to go to grab the bar back. 

Arvin stood up and shook his head, “No, no, it’s no problem. I’m glad to help.” 

When he returned to turning the bolts, you took a step back, brow cocked and arms crossed, “You’re not from around here, are you?” 

The bolt clanged to the ground with a metal clink and Arvin knelt down to shimmy the tire off, “Is it that obvious?” He chuckled, looking up at you as he rolled it to the side. You’d already had the spare ready to go right beside the old one and he grabbed it, wiggling it into place. 

You chuckled, “People don’t really go out of their way to help strangers here. And I like the accent. It’s cute. You from Tennessee or something?” 

Arvin froze up. Should he tell you? What were the chances of you knowing anything relating to the issues of his past? “Ohio.” 

“I didn’t know you guys had accents back there.” You leaned against the side of the car, watching him work on the tire for you. 

He tightened up the bolts all within the tire, “Depends on where you live, I guess.” Arvin pressed himself up, wiping his hands on his jeans as he did, “There ya go. You should be all set.” 

You stood up straight and ran your hands on your striped brown, black, and white turtleneck, your face contorting in annoyance when you realized you smeared grease on your favorite sweater. Arvin smirked a little when he noticed the action. 

You were pretty cute. Arvin felt a little confused. Girls back in Coal Creek had never really caught his eye. They were all so similar, just slight variations of each other. There were the hyper-religious good girls but they all reminded him too much of his sister. Either that or they were the girls who hung out with boys like Gene Dinwoodie and that was just a whole crowd that Arvin had no intention of associated with. 

“You really didn’t have to do all that… but thank you for the help.” Your hands rubbed together, the faint black debris marking your fingers. “I have a few bucks. Let me buy you a coffee or something as a thank you?” 

“Oh, no, you don’t have to do that.” Arvin readjusted his hat on his head. 

“Please, I insist. You just changed my tire.” You pressed, tucking your hand into your back pocket and crossing your ankles as you leaned against the car. Arvin stood a little closer to you, still a polite distance away, but there was a way he looked down at you that just made butterflies go through your stomach. 

Maybe this was what Kast meant. Maybe this was some of that life he should be living, that adventure he should be having. “Alright. But I don’t really know where anything is around here so….” 

“Don’t worry, I got you.” You smiled, “I know a place a few blocks away if you’re up for it? They have some pretty good pie too. Oh, and I’m Y/N by the way.” 

Nerves bubbled in Arvin’s stomach but something made him nod his head, almost against his will, “Arvin,” He nodded a small greeting, “And, yeah, that sounds nice.” 

With a smile, you tapped on the hood of your car and nodded your head over to the passenger side, “It’s not too far but it’s kind of cold. I’d rather drive personally but we can walk if you’re more comfortable with that.” 

The offer took Arvin back to his time hitchhiking his way out of Coal Creek and Knockemstiff. There had been a few bad experiences with handsy truckers and women who’d picked him up but they didn’t erase the memory of his first pick-up with Carl and Sandy. We all know how that ended… 

But he’d made it out of all of those situations, even if just barely, and he honestly didn’t feel uneasy around you. There was an endearing, hardworking, down-to-earth yet friendly energy you gave off that managed to put Arvin at ease. Before he knew it, he was sitting in the front seat of your car as you sped off down the road. 

The day had passed quickly with you and before Arvin knew it, it was already almost sunset. Coffee and pie had turned into a two hour long stay with the two of you talking about life which had in turn turned into a stroll through the city. 

He’d told you about how he had some family issues growing up and left his hometown to join the army. Your exact response was, “I’d say thank you for your service but I don’t exactly support the war if I’m being honest.” 

Arvin sipped his coffee and raised his eyebrows exasperatedly, “Neither do I.”

You told him about how you had been born and raised in Brooklyn, working at a local record shop to save up for a place of your own. You told him all about your career goals and how you wanted to find somewhere you felt like you really belonged. Brooklyn was your home, it always would be, but you felt like there was something else out there for you. 

Talking to you was easy- easier than anyone since Arvin’s mother. He couldn’t explain it but the quiet, secretive boy found himself at ease with you, not only willing to but wanting to open up to you. Maybe it was the adorable way you made it a point to smell your coffee before you drank it, taking in the comforting, rich scent, or maybe it was residue of grease still on your shirt. Arvin couldn’t quite pinpoint it, but he was attracted to you in a way he hadn’t been attracted to anyone in his entire life. 

“Hey,” You perked up, “You said you’ve never really left base, right?” 

Arvin nodded, self-conscious about his lack of adventurous spirit, as Kast would put it, “Unfortunately.” 

“You need to do all the stupid tourist things in New York.” You hit the countertop excitedly, as if the grandest idea anyone had ever had had occurred o you. 

Arvin’s face scrunched up and he shook his head, looking away, “Nah, that ain’t really my thing.” 

“C’mon,” You pressed, holding onto his forearm enthusiastically, “I’m not saying you gotta go stand around and get mugged in Time Square or anything but I think you should experience the city while you’re out here!” 

Sightseeing had never interested Arvin. Hell, he never really even thought he’d make it out of Coal Creek, if he was being honest with himself. Even if he did, he just expected to end up in some other shit hole town that was the same with different people. He never really put much thought into what he wanted to do. His mind had just been so consumed with what he needed to do. 

Arvin swivelled in his chair to face you, “Well what would you suggest that a newcomer go see here?” 

It didn’t take you long at all to think up an idea, “Can you stay out till sunset?” 

_____ 

Manhattan was definitely a different feel from Brooklyn. Arvin felt almost anxious here with all the cars and people and whatnot. He thought the army base was crowded but that was nothing compared to the bustle of the heart of New York City. Skyscrapers dwarfed neighboring buildings, casting shadows that somehow made Arvin feel miniscule in comparison. 

“Here we are!” You exclaimed excitedly, disappearing through the revolving door of a classy looking building. Arvin followed you inside, meeting with you in the large main room. There was a window with a man behind it that you approached, “Two tickets to the top please.” You dug into your small white purse and pulled out a few bills and handed them to the man in exchange for tickets. 

“Wait, what’re you buyin’?” Arvin stepped over to you, about to interject the transaction. The last thing he wanted was you spending more money on him.  

“Tickets.” You said as if it were obvious.

“To what?” He asked, confused. 

You turned around, two tickets in hand, with a smile, “Do you not know where we are yet?” Arvin slowly shook his head, wondering why he was supposed to. “We’re at the Empire State Building!” 

Arvin had heard of the building, even seen pictures of it in a history book one time, but he really didn’t know much about it. Big cities had never been his interest but seeing the way your eyes lit up with excitement to show him made all reservations melt. 

The elevator ride up was nerve wracking to say the least. It wasn’t severe but Arvin had developed minor PTSD from the war. He’d seen many men get killed or trapped, dragged away and unable to escape. This metal death box traveling up hundreds of stories made him feel trapped. He hadn’t noticed that he started rocking back and forth on his heels, gripping his own biceps, until you put a gentle hand on his arm, “You okay?” 

With a shaky breath, Arvin nodded and put on a smile, “Yeah. Elevators just make me kinda nervous.” 

The elevator stopped at one level but you dragged him up several flights of stairs to get to the very top where you could stand on the balcony. 

It was fairly busy but not unenjoyably so. “Okay, come over here!” Yet again, Arvin found himself being led by you to the very edge, leaning on the high railing. “What do you think?” 

It was breathtaking, beyond anything Arvin had ever seen. The sun was now setting, casting a warm orange-pink hugh on the city. The buildings and streets were illuminated with tiny lights, creating a sea of little flickering stars. In the far distance, the ocean stretched on for miles. Even the sky was beginning to try and match the city, though the few stars that were beginning to peek through the sunset were nearly drowned out by the light of the city. 

“It’s amazin’.” Arvin sighed out, almost overwhelmed. So this was the world outside of Coal Creek?

“Isn’t it something?” Arvin glanced down to see you looking down at the city with such adoration. A warm, orange glow cast across your face, accenting every beautiful feature. But then you turned to face him and he nearly stopped breathing. He knew from the first moment he met you that you were an attractive woman but you looked absolutely radiant now. 

Tension began to rise when you realized how close you were to the man. Your hips were almost touching as you stood side by side. Your hands were mere centimeters apart on the safety railing. 

Arvin could have gotten lost in your eyes but you tore your gaze away, returning it to the city. Instead, you slowly inched your hand towards his until your fingers touched his, testing the waters. He tensed up, looking down to see your fingers nudging his. He glanced back over at you to see your eyes flick questioningly to his. 

Arvin closed the gap between you, intertwining his fingers with yours. Your heart fluttered out of your chest when you felt him pull you ever so slightly closer to him. Your head rested on his shoulder and your free hand came up to grab his arm. 

“Y’know, if changing strangers’ tires is gonna turn out like this, I’m gonna have to start doin’ it more often.” He teased but his voice sounded sincere. Of all the possibilities that today had, this was not one that he had imagined when he left base this morning. Holding onto a beautiful girl at the top of the Empire State Building seemed like something out of a movie, not something that happened to real people. 

The sun fully set and the stars came out, rivaling the city lights in a display of firework-like sparkles. The full moon acted almost as a spot light in the dark sky, drawing your attention. Arvin had no idea how long the two of you had been standing there but he felt like he could stand there for forever. 

Eventually, you shifted against his side and your voice popped up, soft and quiet, “Hey, Arvin?” 

“Hm?” 

“Maybe we can see each other again?” You twisted in his grasp, which had now traveled to be around your shoulders. Now you looked straight up at him, faces only a small distance apart. 

The corners of Arvin’s lips turned up, “I’d like that.” 

Your arms were wrapped around his torso and his arms were encasing your body, resting on your upper back. Arvin’s eyes flicked from your lips to your eyes and back down again, as if asking for permission before going in. Both of you slowly inched towards each other before your lips touched in the middle. His lips were surprisingly soft and gentle against yours in the sweet, slow kiss. 

When you pulled away, neither of you opened your eyes for a few moments, just resting your foreheads against each other. “Call me a fool for falling for a girl I just met but I think I like you.” Arvin admitted with a satisfied smile, pulling you closer to him. 

#Arvin Russell #arvin russel imagines #arvin russel x reader #tdatt #The Devil All The Time #tom holland #tom holland one shot #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #Manhattan Sunset

[kafka-ish]

the act of being a boy-friend | r.t.

y/n’s plan to make her crush, or ex crush, jealous backfires when she realizes she’s been the jealous one all along.

word count: 6.7k

warnings/included: fluff, losers aren’t friends anymore, fem!reader

a/n: i just rlly love writing love triangles hgeoigso also fake dating tropes ftw🥳

-

“What’s ruh-ruh-wrong? Juh-juh-hust tell me what I can do, and I’ll ff-fix it.” Bill sat next to y/n on his worn sofa. The two were watching a movie but he couldn’t put a pin on what was wrong until he noticed y/n wasn’t making her usual commentary. y/n always talked whenever they got together to watch a movie—either letting her petty remarks be known to the rest of the viewers or judging the style choice. And if she wasn’t talking, her face was stuffed full of popcorn or sour candy.

But y/n wasn’t doing either of those things.

She sat in a ball—her bare feet on his couch and her kneecaps digging into her stomach. Her eyes were wide and focused on the screen ahead of them that blared ET. Her nails that were in tip-top condition when she first showed up to Bill’s house, neatly trimmed and polished with a layer of topcoat were now bitten to the bed, ragged and raw.

“Why would you think something’s wrong?” y/n said, surprised that she was able to even squeak out the words after zoning out for so long. Something was wrong. But it wasn’t like y/n would tell him. This is what she wanted, right? Just the two of them—Bill’s arm wrapped around her while she pressed into his side while the only light in the room came from his television set.

So why did everything feel so wrong?

Richie and y/n had dated two months prior. Well… ‘dated’. The relationship wasn’t real, but the butterflies whenever Richie called her a dumb pet name or kissed her on the cheek (because kissing on the lips was too far) certainly felt real. And the heartbreak that came from him talking about other girls felt more real than the time y/n got stood up at the eighth-grade dance.

“I don’t wanna be your fuckin’ boyfriend,” Richie protested. His mouth was full of the turkey club sandwich he snagged from a detention buddy and his perfectly straight nose was now scrunched in disgust at the absurd idea his friend had to offer.

“I don’t get why you’re being so pissy about this.” y/n took the sandwich from him, taking a bite of her own and cringing at the taste of mustard that was hidden under the lettuce.

“Grow up.” Richie laughed at y/n who was using a napkin to wipe the tangy aftertaste off her tongue. “You know.” He took another bite. “This sorta shit never ends well.”

“What shit?” y/n prodded. She was still hooked on the idea of getting Richie to play house with her.

“The game where you and I pretend to be boyfriend and girlfriend and eventually one of us falls for each other.” Richie was taking an oddly rational approach to y/n’s suggestion. But Richie was logical in a sense where he just knew.

“Who says I’d fall for you?” y/n poked at his shoulder. One of her eyebrows raised because in what world would she let herself catch feelings for Richie Tozier?

In this world. In this lifetime, y/n would let herself fall for one of her best friends, only to be dating her longtime crush.

“How could you not?” Richie smirked but y/n could tell he was just joking. “I’m irresistible, love.” His stupid British-man Voice made yet another appearance and y/n had to refrain from hitting him.

“What about me?” y/n didn’t care whether or not Richie found her attractive, but to say his response never left her mind after that day would be an understatement.

“Well, just look at you.” Richie put the sandwich down. “If it’s anyone, I’ll be having a harder time.”

“So does that mean you’ll go through with it?” A new light hit y/n’s eyes; the sparkle almost blinding Richie who was shaking his head.

“I don’t get why you’re so hung up about this.” He sighed. y/n could tell he was getting annoyed, but y/n was also persistent. If she wanted something, she’d get it; careless about the lengths she’d have to go through for her fantasies to become a truth. Her truth.

“I’m just saying there are benefits for both of us.” y/n’s head tilted to the side, trying to get a better glimpse at Richie now gnawing at his lunch like an animal.

“Benefits?” Richie asked mid-bite.

“Yeah. I can make Bill Denbrough jealous and he’ll fall madly in love with me. Same for you and your ex.”

“Bill Denbrough?” Richie ignored the mention of his ex-girlfriend. He was fifty-percent sure he was already over her, but the other fifty percent of him still stole glances in her direction and kept a copy of her school picture in his wallet. But Bill Denbrough? y/n had a crush on the Bill Denbrough? Richie had to take a moment for his ears to adjust to this staggering news.

Bill Denbrough was a baseball player and Richie’s old childhood friend. Him, Bill, Stan Uris (who was coincidentally also on Derry’s baseball team), Mike Hanlon (who didn’t play baseball but football), Ben Hanscom (he was on the track team), Eddie Kaspbrak, and Beverly Marsh were all a group back in middle school. And Bill and Richie went way back—back to elementary school. It was until the end of freshman year when Stan tried out for baseball (Bill tagged along but made the team anyway) and Mike brought up how he wanted to go out for football next year.

Everyone’s interests started to diverge. Everyone started to diverge. They still went to Mike’s games at the beginning of their sophomore year, but their lunches together only seemed to happen on Wednesday and their afternoon hangouts at the quarry turned into just Richie smoking puffs on the edge; the only company being his portable radio.

Richie befriended y/n sophomore year, around the same time he and his friends fizzed out in January’s crisp air. He met her in his new art class when Derry High released students’ new schedules for the second semester. They’d stayed friends ever since; sharing their lunches and staying after school to finish up on a Social Studies project that wasn’t worth the grade they received. y/n was the one to comfort Richie after his breakup with Vanessa Jennings, but this was the first Richie had ever heard of y/n’s crush on Bill. He didn’t even know she knew Bill.

“You like Bill Denbrough?”

y/n nodded. “So, what do you say? Partner…”

Richie gave in. Although it wasn’t in his interest to get back with Vanessa, he’d still go along with y/n’s scheme.

He’d pick her up at her house before school at seven o’clock sharp—whether it was in his dad’s old Chevy or by foot in his red Converse.

y/n rushed to her front door as soon as she heard a ring. Her hair was half done, and she hadn’t had enough time to do her makeup yet. Luckily, she was already dressed in her school clothes—the denim of her jeans scuffing together when she walked, and her red blouse having to be pulled down every time she rose her arms.

“Morning, sugar.” Richie’s lazy grin and tired eyes never failed to bring a smile on her face even before they started ‘dating’. His hair wasn’t brushed at all, making y/n feel better about her appearance. His body leaned slanted against the doorframe while he waited for her and the white tip of his Converse made its attempt to dig into the porch.

“Sugar?” y/n asked, bemused. She grabbed her keys from the table next to the door, using them to lock the door behind her.

“You look different today.” y/n’s head raised from its once concentrated position from the lock on her door.

“Different how?” She inquired, mostly wondering if this difference was a good or bad thing.

“You look good.” y/n’s cheeks couldn’t help but heat at the compliment. Richie was always calling her cutesy names or saying shit like actually, now that my glasses are on, your ass does look good in those jeans. This should be no different, right?

It only felt different because they were… an item is what y/n convinced herself somewhere along the drive to school. Richie opened the door for her when she got in (and out), but in return, she’d have to let him play his favorite station.

“it’s only courtesy, babe.” Richie shrugged but his eyes kept on the road. “I scratch your back, you scratch mine.”

But two weeks in, y/n found out she liked what this rock ‘n roll guy had to offer. She liked the loud beat of the drum and how the guitar sang in her ears. She liked Richie’s voice that overpowered Elvis’s when he sang along to the lyrics, knowing every word by heart.

“I don’t get why you’re taking me anywhere,” y/n said. She sat in the passenger’s seat of his car like she usually did. “We don’t have to pretend unless we’re, like, in public.” Her voice became small, almost regretting the words that came out of her mouth. Secretly, she hoped Richie wouldn’t turn the 1965 Chevrolet Camaro around.

“It’s not like we aren’t friends.” Richie’s thumb made a tap, tap, tapping sound against the steering wheel. “Friends hang out, right?”

y/n smiled but didn’t answer. It never occurred to her that they weren’t dating. After a while, it just seemed so natural; the hand holding under lunch tables; the way he held her binder for her.

“Is that heavy, sweetheart?” Richie stood next to y/n, intently watching as she struggled with her books in one arm: her other hand turning the combination lock. His gaze never left her figure. He was thoughtful, caring…

“Kind of, but you don’t need to—”

Ignoring y/n, Richie took the books from her hold. He already had books of his own to carry, but he couldn’t let his girlfriend struggle with hers.

“Yeah… friends.” y/n couldn’t seem to face him while uttering the words. Friends. The declaration felt so distant. After all, they had been more than friends—or pretending to be more than friends. But at the end of the day, y/n didn’t know if she wanted to be just friends with Richie Tozier. That was new considering, she never saw Richie as something else. Something that greeted her with flowers before school and held open the door for her. Not until now, no. Richie was always… Richie.

Richie Tozier who was always caught doing his homework last minute in art—because that’s the easiest class, babe. Richie Tozier who liked detention because he could catch up on a few extra minutes of lost beauty sleep. Richie Tozier who stopped bringing his lunch to school because you’re the only sugar I need.

y/n rolled the window down, letting a breeze sweep through her hair and tickle her skin. She needed a distraction because the recent epiphany of the boy next to her being the reason for her heart palpitations was something to need a distraction from.

The sky bled orange and purple—the colors perfectly melted into one another—and y/n wondered if this wasn’t their world after all. Maybe they were being controlled and the puppeteer behind her was playing some sick joke by making her catch feelings for Richie Tozier. y/n didn’t even notice they came to a stop until the click of Richie’s seatbelt grabbed her ears from their trance.

“You comin’?” Richie asked from outside of her side of the car. He was hunched down, his forearm resting on the door to help prop him up.

“Yeah.” y/n swallowed but it hurt. It felt like acid ripped through her esophagus but the only thing she had to drink that day was water. She reached for the door handle, but Richie was faster, already opening the door himself. “Such a gentleman,” y/n snickered.

“Of course.” Richie stayed behind to lock the doors.

“So, you drove me, just a friend, all the way out to the best milkshakes in town?” y/n asked, eyeing the neon-lit sign that read

 Hwy 90

The highway to your stomach.

They served other things, but they specialized in milkshakes—something neither Richie nor y/n would care to pass up. But nothing y/n would drive thirty minutes for just for some glorified ice cream in a glass.

“It’s the least I could do.” Richie opened the door for y/n once again. The entrance door to the diner made a jingling sound as the top corner hit the bells which hung from the ceiling.

“The least you could do?” y/n wondered aloud, but Richie wasn’t given the chance to answer her question when a waitress scurried up to them, a stack of menus in one arm and a bundle of silverware in the other. She was taller than y/n but shorter than Richie and she wore black and white bowling shoes to match the wide-legged jeans and polo underneath her apron. “Is it just you two?” She asked sweetly, hiking the pile of menus up higher on her arm.

“Yeah,” Richie said. He stuffed his hands in his back pocket, not knowing where to put them.

The waitress showed them to a small booth that sat in the corner of the brightly lit restaurant. It was too bright for y/n’s eyes under the red, blue, and pink hues that reflected across the shiny white tile, But the corner table the girl had brought them to would do. There was a certain coziness to it, or maybe it was the thought of sitting so close to Richie in a public setting that settled y/n’s eyes.

“I’m Annie. I’ll be your server today,” the girl said as soon as Richie and y/n slid into their respective sides of the red pleather seats. She was fast-talking and all shades of nervousness as her left hand went to grab the number two pencil that fastened the blonde curls that were pinned in a knot on top of her head. “Can I get you anything?”

“A menu would be nice,” y/n said. In front of them sat a table, salt and pepper shakers, and a half-empty Heinz ketchup bottle. Annie had forgotten to give the two a menu.

“My apologies!” She exclaimed, bashful. She handed them each a menu to sift through.

“Don’t sweat it.” Richie winked in her direction and y/n felt herself grow… what was that? Anger? Annie’s pale skin blushed a bright red and y/n could tell it wasn’t the apron making her feel hot.

It took Richie a full-fledged thirty seconds and two skims through the laminated paper for him to decide what he wanted, and it took y/n at least two minutes. “I’ll have a Cookies n Cream. Extra sweet.” Just like you.

y/n was biting her thumb and still reading over the same three flavors that caught her eye while Annie stood patiently waiting for her response. Richie was messing with the saltshaker. His leg found hers under the table and gave it a quick kick.

“Ouch.” She looked up from the menu, averting her attention to the boy in front of her with a fix glare. “Can I have Vanilla? With a cherry on top?”

Annie scribbled down both of their orders in messy writing before making her way across the floor and to the kitchen.

“Vanilla?” Richie laughed and y/n didn’t know what was so funny. “’Cause you’re vanilla?” He covered his mouth with his hand before another fit of laughter would consume the table.

“Shut up.” Swiftly, y/n’s leg propelled into his which caused Richie’s laughs to die down, replaced by a single yelp.

“So…” Richie’s eyebrows wiggled. His nails, which were painted a shade of deep blue by y/n and already chipped, thumped against the surface of the table. y/n could tell whatever he was beginning to suggest wouldn’t be something she liked just from the tone of his voice.

“So?”

“Why Bill?” Oh.

“I don’t know what you mean.” She knew exactly what he meant.

“Why do you like ole Big Bill?” The nickname had slipped out unconsciously. The nickname Richie hadn’t heard in years. The nickname Richie hadn’t said in years. It felt exotic on his lips, but comforting, like a hug from his mom.

Why did she like Bill? y/n asked herself silently. She was gnawing on the inside of her cheek when the question popped up again and the sound of Bill’s voice startled her.

“What’s ruh-ruh-wrong? Juh-juh-hust tell me what I can do, and I’ll ff-fix it.” What was wrong? Seemingly, everything was perfect. The boy y/n had been crushing on for years was finally in her reach—her grasp, even. Bill’s head turned to face y/n, but his arm stayed tightly coiled around her side. It wasn’t the same as Richie’s possessive hold from two months ago. His hand that played with the fabric of her shirt felt cold. Bill felt cold.

It couldn’t be that she missed Richie, no. Richie was busy—probably swapping spit with one Vanessa Jennings. Vanessa with the light brown hair and curls that framed her not-too-big head ever so perfectly. Vanessa who never needed a tan. Vanessa with the long legs that were probably wrapped—

But it didn’t matter. y/n was busy, too. The Bill Denbrough was at her side and she couldn’t have asked for anything else. She didn’t need anything else. Not when his red flannel hugged her torso because are you could? My parents won’t let me turn up the heat, but I can offer you this. Like a gentleman, he proceeded to strip the flannel from his bodice, leaving him in a white baseball tee.

“Why would you think something’s wrong?” y/n looked at Bill then looked down to see the nails she had just painted were now ruined. She looked up again. “Nothing’s wrong,” she assured, not all convincingly.

“You just… yo-you ha-haven’t-t s-s-said anything since you cuh-cuh-walked in.”

“I haven’t?” y/n asked, now picking at the tip of her thumb, hoping what had taken two weeks to grow out would magically regrow in seconds. Saving his voice, Bill only shook his head.

“You nuh-know you can tuh-tell me. Ruh-right?” y/n nodded but what could she tell him?

Sorry I’ve been holding a massive crush on you for years like one holds a cleaver over their head but all of a sudden I’m into this guy I met in my art class who never brushes his hair and writes ‘smoking and smoking hot’ on his college resume.

“I think I’m just tired,” she lied while also feigning a yawn. She covered her mouth when it opened, pretending to be sleepy.

“Do-do you want me to tuh-take you home?” Bill asked. He was just as thoughtful as Richie. He was just as handsome as Richie, maybe even more. So why couldn’t y/n bring herself to like him as much as Richie? His arm left from her side and he used it to pick up the remote, turning the tv off. The worst part was, that when Bill’s hand stopped playing with the fabric of the flannel she wore and his arm left her frame, she didn’t feel a coldness that would usually wash over her when Richie’s arm left her. She felt free.

“I don’t want our afternoon to be spoiled,” y/n said. Her eyebrows furrowed and even though she knew she was lying through her teeth, she wanted to make this work. After all these years of pining for her study partner and favorite Derry High baseball player, she needed for this to work. To see the vision she’d created in her head, just a mere two years ago, collapse in front of her very eyes broke her. But at the same time, she was indifferent. Why should she care about the boy in front of her when the boy she actually wanted was a neighborhood away?

“Tr-trust me. It-it’s not.” Bill shrugged. He stood up and offered y/n his hand which she didn’t take. Instead, she sat there, planted in her same seat, waiting for him to continue. “I can tuh-take you home. And wuh-we can hang out to-tomorrow. You nuh-know when you’re well rested.” All of the sudden, this felt very real. Hanging out with Bill felt real. Being at his house felt real. And though his efforts were valiant, y/n couldn’t accept the offer.

A smile graced her lips and Bill mirrored that. “Yeah, okay. Uh, take me home—please.”

y/n stood up and Bill guided her to the door and to Zach Denbrough’s car as if she hadn’t had the place memorized from when she first came over for a History project they’d been assigned to do.

What did she ever see in him?

“I don’t know.” y/n’s shoulders bopped up and down and even though her figure was hunched, Richie still thought she looked graceful.

“Are you just sayin’ that or did you end up falling in love with little ole me and you can’t think of anything?” Just then, their milkshakes arrived. Both in frosted glass and both with a cherry on top. A feeling of relief swallowed the lump in her throat, or maybe that was the taste of vanilla ice cream now that she was given some time, and a reason, to stall. y/n hated how on-the-nose Richie could be. But she also loved that about him. He could be so, so unexpectedly smart about some things. Things that were right in front of her that she’d never even notice until Richie pointed it out. “Oh, come on.” Richie’s words would’ve sliced through the silence in the air if it weren’t for the chatter of other people and jukebox playing in the background. “Seriously, y/n/n, there’s gotta be something that drew you to him.”

“Well… he’s nice.”

“Okay cut the crap.”

“What?” y/n asked, finding herself annoyed that she not only had to reveal her feelings to a boy she may or may not like but also because he’s nice apparently wasn’t a sufficient enough answer.

“I need an actual answer. Not some bullshit response like he’s nice or he’s funny. Anyone can be nice or funny, y/n.”

“Well, whether you like it or not, Bill is nice. He’s genuine, and cares about the people around him… Selfless.”

Richie was upset at her response. Not because y/n countered his argument in a way he was left speechless but because she was right. Bill was the nice guy and Richie… wasn’t. Bill was the one who looked out for others, making sure they were okay. He was the one who made sure no one got left behind. He was the one everyone looked up to—not Richie, Bill. It was always Bill. Whereas Richie’s just the guy who stands in the background making funny noises only to be told to shut up.

“Yeah… Bill is nice.”

“Don’t tell me you’re my competition, Tozier.” y/n laughed at the oddity of fighting with Richie for the chance to be with Bill.

“Nah,” Richie shook his head, his hair flying in any direction possible. “You’re lucky I’m not, though. You wouldn’t have the chance, babe.”

y/n wanted to eat her heart out at the usage of babe in such an informal setting where they didn’t have to pretend, but the maraschino cherry resting on top of the pile of whipped cream would suffice. “Do you still like Vanessa?” The words tumbled from y/n’s mouth like they were nothing. But embarrassment replaced the blood flowing through her veins once she was aware of what she just said.

“It’s… complicated,” Richie said honestly, not caring that y/n might’ve crossed boundaries just then.

“What’s complicated?” y/n cocked her head like a puppy questioning why its master was making weird hand motions.

“You’ll understand when you’re older, kid.” Richie didn’t mean to come off as condescending, but he did.

“I’m the same age as you.” y/n crossed her arms after pushing away the half-empty, frosted glass in front of her.

Ignoring the red straw in his drink, Richie brought the edge of the glass to his lips and swallowed the thick shake. “Here’s the thing. Vanessa and I go way back.”

“How far is way back if you only dated her for four months?” y/n regretted even bringing her up. Maybe it was different back then, back when the two were actually dating. But now, y/n couldn’t remember a time when someone said the name ‘Richie Tozier’ and her heart didn’t feel like it would explode into a collision of fireworks.

“Four and a half,” Richie corrected with a grin breaking out on his lips. “But I dunno. She’s just special.”

“Special as in…?” y/n probed, and she hated herself for her big mouth that wouldn’t stop applying lemon juice to an obviously open wound.

“I love her.” Richie took another drink of Cookies n Cream, which was more cream than cookies, and y/n sat there in shock. She would be silly to think that after all these weeks, Richie would feel the same way about her. After all, he had a life outside of the fake one they’d construed. Or maybe Richie was just less emotionally confined to these sorts of things. He knew better than to get caught up in a fake relationship. Of course he would.

But knowing Richie still loved his ex, struck something in y/n’s core. And the fact that he was able to say it in such a nonchalant manner—such casualty—only dug deeper at the pit in her stomach.

“You love her?” y/n asked, her mouth still full of the sweet treat he’d pay for later in the evening.

“Love. Loved.” Richie shrugged like this was nothing—well, maybe this was nothing. Maybe y/n was the speck of dust on his shirt and him shrugging was the last of her existence from his being leaving. “What’s the difference?”

“There’s a big difference.” y/n wanted to scream. Luckily, she had enough self-perseverance to keep her composure. She swallowed. “One is past tense, and one is present tense.”

“How ‘bout I put it this way.” Richie set aside his drink so now nothing was blocking his view of y/n. He leaned forward and rested his hands on the table. “I don’t like…” He paused. Revealing that he had no intention in getting back with his once first love would possibly wreck this whole thing. “If Vanessa asked, I’d probably get back with her,” Richie finally said, thinking that must’ve been a suitable way to word the jumble of letters floating around in his head like alphabet soup.

“You would?” y/n asked, feeling like a little kid all over again.

Richie didn’t say anything.

“Do you and her still…”

“Still what?”

“Talk, I guess is what I’m trying to say.” y/n messed with her fingers, pulling at a hangnail she’d know she’d regret doing when it got to later in the night.

“Nah. But don’t worry about it, sweets.” Richie took out his wallet only to be met with a picture of the dreaded girl they’d just been talking about. He gulped. His spit tasted like Oreos and he knew he’d have a stomachache later. Richie thumbed out a ten-dollar bill and five ones to keep Alexander Hamilton company. “Ole Vanessa could never get in the way of you if that’s what you’re wonderin’.”

It was what she was wondering.

But she’d never let Richie know that. y/n crossed her arms tighter around her torso because right now it felt like Richie could see right through her.

Richie drove her home in the same way Bill would a month from that night. But Richie had a better taste in music and y/n was actually sad to part from him when he left her at her doorstep.

“I’m really sorry I had to cut our time short,” y/n said. She was sorry.

“It’s ff-fine. I al-already sai—”

“Yeah, but I feel awful, Bill.” y/n finally mucked up the courage to look him in the eye. Those blue eyes that’d been searching for hers all afternoon. “This was probably like… the worst first date in the history of first dates.”

“Ih-it’s not so bad. But that duh-depends on how muh-many first dates you’ve been on.” Bill laughed and y/n was trying to figure out what was funny about what he said.

“You’ve been on worse ones?” y/n asked anxiously.

“Luh-let’s just say th-they duh-didn’t get a second date.”

y/n nodded while her hands started to search for the keys in her purse.

“I’ll ss-see you tuh-tomorrow?”

“Or at my funeral. Whichever comes first.” For a moment, the bad thoughts cleared from the surface of y/n’s head. Laughter was the only thing she was aware of for a moment.

“Bye, y/n/n.”

“Bye, Richie,” y/n said bashfully. Her hands were strewn behind her back because she didn’t know what they would do if they weren’t. He was about to walk off—off into the moonlight. And y/n would have to wait until Monday to see him again. It was one day too long because she knew even though the two of them had nothing better to do tomorrow, he’d see it as just friends whereas y/n would see it… differently. “Richie, wait!”

“What?” Richie turned around. His hands sat inside of his front pockets and his posture was slumped, as always.

“Thanks… for tonight.” Richie nodded, and validation from him served as a sick kind of ego booster that egged y/n to keep going. “They really are the best milkshakes in town.”

“Yeah.” Richie’s scratchy voice soothed y/n under the frosty air that came from winters in Maine. y/n stepped closer, her hands still behind her back.

“Did you have a good time?”

“You know I always have a good time when I’m with you.” Richie nudged y/n’s elbow with his but was taken aback by her hands that now gripped his shoulders and how suddenly close she was against him.

y/n kissed him on the cheek, not daring to go for his lips because who’s ever heard of a kiss goodbye on the cheek? Is probably what Stacy Howards would retort back to her after she’d spill the happenings of Saturday night to Derry High’s favorite cheerleader in study hall.

His cheek tasted like salt and Irish Spring—that is, if she knew what Irish Spring tasted like. Which she definitely didn’t.

She didn’t linger long. Richie wished she stayed longer. The kiss was short and sweet and the taste of vanilla on her lips replaced a fraction of his cheek that tasted like body wash and sodium chloride.

“Goodnight,” y/n said, now finally coming to her senses.

“Ye-yeah.” Richie blinked, an alternative to pinching himself in front of the girl he’d been pretending to date. “Night.” But after pretending for so long, Richie couldn’t help but notice the less it felt like pretending.

y/n closed the door behind her with a slam, making sure to lock it in case intruders were in the neighborhood. Now that Bill was gone, her first instinct was to call up Richie—tell him that the date went well, and how he was such a great friend, and thanks for the help. But there were only so many times she could lie to a boy she felt feelings so deeply for. The first, coincidentally, was when Richie had asked how things were going with Bill.

“Make any progress so far?” Richie asked with a face full of ham. They were eating lunch together, per usual. But this time, unlike the many times before, the hand that wasn’t holding his sandwich was rubbing circles on y/n’s small hand that Richie’s swallowed.

“Comme ci comme ça.” y/n smiled to herself at her basic understanding any French One student would master. “It’s going alright…” y/n had never been a natural liar. Whenever she told her parents she had cleaned her room when she, in fact, didn’t, the hairs on the back of her neck stood to attention and her forearm broke out in an itch she could never quite scratch. But her internal biological workings had given her a break today. There was no itch and her hairs stayed in place from when she styled her hair that morning.

“What’s alright?” Richie questioned, though it sounded more like an interrogation.

“He started talking to me more.”

“He didn’t already talk to you?” Richie’s eyebrow rose because how were you supposed to fall for a guy you barely talked to?

“Well, yeah, he talks to me.” The pad of Richie’s thumb that was drawing slow circles onto y/n’s knuckles turned into lines. Back and forth. Back and forth. “But he used to talk to me about classwork and… you know, like, school.” Richie smiled when she talked. He was happy for his friend. He truly was. But he couldn’t stand the fact that the guy she was talking about wasn’t him—let alone, his former best friend. “And in APUSH, instead of asking about my grade or whatever, he… asked about me.”

“What’d Mister Charming have to say?”

Mister Charming sat two seats away from y/n. But that didn’t stop him from talking to her. Every now and then, Bill would steal glances at the girl from his peripheral vision. Sometimes, if he were feeling bold, he’d turn to face her—but that action only occurred when she was speaking. Today, however, was different. Today he’d talk to her.

Lucky for Bill, the pencil sharpener sat in the back of class—close to where y/n’s seat was.

“Hey.”

y/n looked up from her textbook. She didn’t want to assume the hushed voice was for her—but she had to figure the tap on her shoulder was.

“Hi.” She set her pencil down and folded her arms flat on the desk. “What’s up?” y/n swore she sounded insane. Who says what’s up—

“Th-the sky.” Bill’s smile made cloudy days seem cloudless. “I was wuh-wondering ih—” He swallowed the trail of saliva that gathered in the back of his throat. “If… are yo-you and Ruh-Richie like…”

“No!” y/n said quickly and a little too loudly.

“Good.”

“Good?”

“Muh-maybe we cuh-could hang out… This Saturday work?” A stroke of nervousness flitted across his features for a second even though Bill didn’t have anything to be nervous about. The rest of y/n’s words got caught in her throat and she instinctively found herself writing down her number on the scratch piece of paper Mr. Ferguson passed out for notetaking.

“Call me.”

Bill did call. Which was precisely how y/n was stuck frozen in time; her back slanted against the door and her thoughts racing against one another.

She had two options at hand. Call Richie. Find Richie. Or wait it out for tomorrow when Bill’s same car would be in her driveway, waiting for her.

But a third option was already at y/n’s doorstep, contemplating ringing the doorbell.

Richie Tozier stood outside of y/n’s front door, palms sweaty and unusually anxious for confrontation. His pale fingers knotted together. It was their way of stalling from interacting with y/n for as long as possible—or as long as curfew would allow him to.

“Hey.” His stalling attempt was left unsuccessful when y/n opened the door. Ironically, he was just the person she had hoped to run into. “What are… what are you doing?”

“Me?” Richie’s eyebrows stitched together, and he pointed to himself with his index finger.

“You’re the only one here,” y/n deadpanned.

“I was just in the neighborhood, y’know. Doin’ neighborly things.”

“You don’t live in this neighborhood.” Richie feigned laughter but this time y/n didn’t laugh with him. “Seriously, Rich, why are you here? You knew I had my date with Bill and—”

“And what?” His tone grew firm, like it had grabbed her by the hand and urged whatever was eating at her insides out of her.

“And I don’t think you should be here, after I just got done with my date with somebody else!” y/n said with a shaky breath. She could feel her heartbeat almost burning through her chest that rose and fell harshly.

“How was it? Your date?” Richie had calmed down, but y/n didn’t.

“It went bad. Is that what you wanted to hear?” y/n muttered, but it could’ve been mistaken for a yell.

“No, why would you think—hold on. What’s up with you?” Richie’s hands stuffed themselves in his front pocket. His posture was hunched over, and his face now screwed together, trying to understand the girl standing before him.

“I don’t know.” The flame that had once ignited y/n’s lively spirits had died down. “I just. It didn’t go well, that’s all,” y/n said, unable to coax the words she actually wanted to say out of her lips.

“He wasn’t an asshole, was he?” Richie’s tone was protective—nothing y/n would expect from him two months ago when she’d gotten themselves into this mess.

“No! No.” y/n was complicated. First, she’d spew off about how her date was bad and now she was defending said date?

“God, y/n/n, can you just make up your mind?”

She could do that.

“You were right,” y/n declared.

“What?”

“Don’t make me say it again.” Her voice lowered to a whisper, but Richie could still make out what she was saying.

“Well, I’m always right, toots. I just need context—”

“About the fake dating thing. How eventually one person’s bound to fall for the other…” Her toes curled from under the white Converse she hadn’t had time to slip off. They were worn and the bottoms were yellowing from the number of times she’d matched them to an outfit. “And you don’t look like you’re on your knees, so.”

“So, what?” y/n didn’t notice the smirk edging on the corners of Richie’s lips.

“Tozier, don’t make me say it.”

“You have to, or God knows how long we’ll be standing on this fuckin’ porch,” Richie said patiently. Patient. Richie was never patient—always the one to urge his friends to hurry the fuck up, always the one to ask are we there yet? But this time he was. His figure stood still and ominous, like Santa on Christmas Eve. His breathing held steady in his lungs that had seen more smoke than his mother’s kitchen and his feet stood planted on the concrete stoop of y/n’s house and they’d stay there until she told him the very damned thing she didn’t want to.

“I like you, okay?” y/n knew if she blinked, the dam of tears in her eyes would finally burst and the last thing she wanted was having Richie Tozier see her cry. Well, second to last thing. The first thing on that list had already happened. “Look, I know you’re still in love with Van-Vanessa.” It hurt to say the girl’s name because she wasn’t just a girl, she was Richie’s ex. “But you asked me to say it and I did. So there.”

y/n was about to turn back. Back into her house and back out of this friendship. It was only because Richie laughed that y/n stopped. His chuckle was like music, not the kind that Richie blasted in his car with the windows down, but like a symphony. And if y/n were any less mortified right now, maybe she’d stop to admire it—him—for one second more.

She was about to ask why. Why are you mocking me when I’m so clearly in a vulnerable state right now? Why are you mocking me after I’d just shared something so deep and personal with the likes of you? About the likes of you? But y/n didn’t get the chance when Richie surged forward and pressed a kiss against her lips. She could feel her heart pick up even more at the taste of him: spearmint and tobacco. She thought it’d stabilize itself once his lips left hers, but it didn’t. His taste lingered and at the time it felt permanent, like a red stain on white furniture.

“Like I said. Ole Vanessa could never get in the way of you.” His breath hit her face, warm and intoxicating, and y/n could only think that kissing Richie on the lips was way better than kissing him on the cheek.

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[pradaksj]

7 Rings | 02

♛ pairing: taehyung/reader

♛ genre: richboy!taehyung | blackmailer!reader | infiltration au | future smut | angst.

♛ rating: mature

♛ word count: 9,990+

♛ warnings for this chapter : explicit language, usage of alcohol (legal)

♛ (please read) author’s note: This chapter basically goes back in time to the day in which Y/N finds out about her mother, but instead we now get a glimpse of tae’s life so there is not much y/n in this chapter !! Just to let y’all know so you don’t get confused :)

♛ summary: In desperate need of money, you and your best friend come up with a plan to infiltrate one of Seoul’s richest families, the Kim family. The plan was simple, garner some money and disappear, but of course things don’t always go as planned. Especially not with someone like Kim Taehyung.

━ ❝ Whoever said money can't solve your problems, must not have had enough money to solve 'em.❞

♛ chapter index/masterlist || series masterlist

Chapters⇢ 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08

Friday Morning.

“In today’s news, the Kim family’s multibillion dollar deal has been officially confirmed. Their partnership with Hyundai is estimated to bring in at least seven billion in revenue to Korea’s economy over the next 5 years. Both parties have agreed to terms that will lift…”

Kim Taehyung stared at the coffee shop’s mounted TV as he waited in line to order, feeling as if it was already too early to be stressed out. The weary feeling of 4 hours of sleep was beginning to manifest itself, irritation slowly beginning to take its form. Honestly, it was a feeling he found himself feeling quite often these days. In a few years, the responsibility of a billion dollar empire would be under his hands, something he wasn’t exactly looking forward to. The images of his dad shaking hands with Hyundai’s CEO appearing on the TV, the man was basically hailed a hero. Taehyung’s eyes narrowed at the sight.

One could say his relationship with his father was not only distant but … complicated. As Taehyung grew up watching his dad’s empire become almost unstoppable, it also meant that he was always away from home. Though for the most part, Taehyung didn’t mind. His mother was everything a child could ask for, compassionate, hard-working, and never failing to provide her almost endless unconditional love for the young boy.

When he was younger though, his father seemed like an unattainable hero, an inspiration, and at some point it was a relationship he longed for. He often felt guilty whenever he’d hear kids in his school mention not having a father figure in their lives, either due to tragedy or other unspecified reasons. He was lucky enough to have his father in his life … so then why didn’t it ever feel like it ? Not like he had a right to complain.

Without his father he wouldn’t have grown up in the world of luxuries as he was fortunately able to. You see, there was a reason why Kim Enterprises was plastered all over Seoul (if not all of Korea), and that was because they were the IT company. A multi-conglomerate holding company who owned stakes in almost every major company from South Korea that you could possibly think of. Their rise in power was truly undeniable.

The company had been founded just a couple of years before Taehyung had been born, originally starting off as an insurance company which had done small investments in prospect companies, slowly rising in their investment and stakeholder shares. At least that was the story Taehyung’s father told him growing up, never failing to remind him that he came from nothing, and for that reason Taehyung should be nothing but grateful, stating that because of him he’d never know what it was like to feel the stigma of being poor in his own home and the powerlessness that comes with it. And you see Taehyung had absolutely no problem with that because well… it was true, and there was no denying that. What bothered him though, was that those speeches never seemed to come out of a place of genuinity, but one of animosity. As if to remind Taehyung that without his father he was, is, and would’ve been nothing.

To a certain extent he respected his father, but he didn’t love him. There was no genuine relationship there, and he knows it may sound horrible to say, but Taehyung most definitely had his reasons. But some things were just simply better left unsaid.

“Hello? Next in line,” a voice (an annoyed one at that) interrupted his thoughts, as he failed to realize that the cashier had been calling out for him for who knows how long. Though he didn’t take her harsh attitude to heart, if anything sympathizing with her and what he assumed was a stressful job, and it wasn’t like he was making it any easier by being a slow-poke.

“Welcome to Seoul’s Magnificent Mocha, what can I get for you this morning?” she asked once he had made his way up front to the cashier counter. Taking off his sunglasses, he couldn’t but want to laugh at how quick her facial expression had changed. It was the face that people made when they recognized him. It was amazing what a simple baseball cap and some shades could do, he hadn’t even worn his black face mask this time. “Y-You—” she began to stutter her words, instead slowly pointing at the TV. He gave her a small smile along with a small nod as a way of confirming what she was trying to say.

“That would be me,” he smiled, “Can I get an iced Americano and um a,” he paused trying to remember what Namjoon had wanted, “strawberry iced tea. Both medium please,” he finished off the order clearly sounding very uncertain.

“It’s g-going to b-be um,” the poor girl was so nervous she couldn’t even tell him his total without stuttering, “15,000 Won,” He proceeded in handing her a 50,000 note.

“You can keep the change,” he winked at her before putting his sunglasses back on and politely dismissing himself towards the waiting area, quietly laughing at how quickly she facepalmed herself when he was out of her line of sight.

Taehyung always did have a special charm on people, plus he was good looking, and he knew it. He didn’t have any special talents, nothing he could actually proudly boast about. It would be dense of him not to acknowledge that the only reason he was so famous was because of both his status and looks.

There were many people who swooned over him such as the cashier, but there were also many who believed he was still the same old spoiled brat who was nothing but a troublemaker from four years ago. It didn’t help that gossip blogs were still using the same clips from years ago when he really was nothing but a troublemaker who liked flashing his expensive cars for the paparazzi, and purposely kept a high profile. He had been naive, nothing but an eighteen year old teenager who thought fame was better than anything else in the entire world. Four years later, now at the age of twenty-two, and he had long learned that fame was horrible. But he had changed and that’s all that mattered, right? A complete 180, if you will.

Those people didn’t know him, so what made them think they had the right to judge him? To act as if they’d do things any better if they were in his position. The only Kim Taehyung they ever knew was the one they’d seen through a screen. He remembered the first time his name had made its way on the headline of gossip blogs and the comments that came with it.

[Kim Taehyung, son of Kim Jeong  spotted out having a wild night out in Hongdae. Pictures leaked from last night with some steamy footage. Click here for more.]  

[+3,623,  -59] he better pray he doesn’t catch any STD’s while he’s at it ㅋㅋㅋ wouldn’t be surprised if he already has some

[+3,100, -100] i feel bad for his dad, he expects someone like this to run the fortune he’s worked so hard for??? he’s so young as well…

[+2,547, -57] leave him alone and respect his privacy

[+2,100, -23] ah he’s so cute!! whoever was dancing with him is one lucky lady!

[+1,022, -34] a brat like that doesn’t deserve the things he has

That night had only been the beginning to years of nothing but front covering gossip magazines and having his privacy invaded on a daily basis. People became invested in what he was doing with his personal life, his friends, who he was seeing, what he was wearing, and anything else you could possibly think of. He often wondered why, but he assumed it was the same reason as to why people continue to give someone like Kim Kardashian attention despite claiming to hate her. Because people want a glimpse of a world that isn’t their own, simply fascinated by the rich. That and their obsession for scandal only adds fuel to the fire.

With fame came pressure though, pressure to uphold an image for the family company, one his father fairly cared about these days. Hell, nowadays his dad gave him more attention than he ever did as a child, all because he knew that Taehyung was and is the future for Kim Enterprises. It was his father’s pressure that led to his current relationship with— ah speak of the devil.

[From: Sunhi]

[9:10AM] I know you see my texts.

[9:11AM] why are you ignoring me???

[9:12AM] hello???

“Taehyung! Your Iced Americano and strawberry iced tea is ready!” Taehyung rolled his eyes as he glanced through the several number of text messages, instead locking his phone and going up to grab the drinks.

Sunhi was the granddaughter of Hyundai’s CEO and had long been in the picture as early as Taehyung could remember. The two went to the same middle and high school, a one sided crush on her side forming at some point. It wasn’t until about a year ago after returning, that his father had basically forced him to take her out on a date citing that it was in his words, “good for business”. And well today the “good for business” approach had its results, the confirmation of a multibillion dollar deal.

The media loved the two together, hell, they were even labelled as Seoul's next generation’s power couple. Their names amassing a fortune worth billions behind them, their good looks garnering both of them ambassador deals, all in the meanwhile social media was the backbone of the phenomenon that was their so called “relationship”. Not that Taehyung considered it much of one, in his opinion it had stopped being an actual relationship a long time ago.

It wasn’t that Taehyung hated Sunhi, in fact in the beginning of their relationship he was smitten for her, but it wasn’t long until the spark burned out. “Wasn’t long” meaning a couple of weeks in and she actually turned out to be the real definition of a brat, the actual real-life manifestation of Blair Waldorf. Constant up and downs with her had quickly worn him out, and the constant badgering from the media only made things worse. But that doesn't mean he hated her, in order for him to hate her he’d actually have to care about her, and well in all honesty…  he didn’t.

Sometimes he’d ask himself why he was still with her considering the deal had long been confirmed even before today. Taehyung had been free to do what he’d like for a long time, meaning there had never been a need for him to have kept this going for so long, he just did. One must ask, why?

Maybe it was because he knew she was the safest option, the person everyone expected and wanted him to be with. Breaking up with her right now would only further his stress, something he definitely didn’t need more of. Plus she knew him from the surface, and he knew her from the surface, and maybe that was just enough. He didn’t need, or want, anything more than that from her or anyone else for that matter. Sunhi was just enough.

It wasn’t like she was using him for anything, especially considering she already has everything. But by being with her, he was satisfying others, he was becoming the person everyone wanted him to be, the person he always should’ve been.

Hell, who knows, maybe he could truly fall in love with her one day … though in the back of his mind he knew the answer to that.

“Took you long enough,” Namjoon complained as he turned on the ignition of the car. He glanced at the drinks in Taehyung's hands, dramatically sighing at the sight, “and you somehow still ended up ordering the wrong drink for me,” he sighed, grabbing the drink from Taehyung’s hands nonetheless.

“My bad, I had forgotten in the moment…” he shot an apologetic smile towards his newly dyed platinum-haired friend.

Namjoon was the son of another one of Seoul’s elite, but also Taehyung’s right hand man. The two had met during their freshman year of high school, but funnily enough the two originally hated one another. Now looking back at it, Taehyung could admit that the two had acted extremely childish over a girl who’d end up picking neither of them, but that was a story to tell for another day.

Luckily Namjoon seemed to enjoy the drink, no longer complaining about it during the ride to Lotte World Mall. The two needed to go buy some new suits for tonight's event in celebration of the brand new deal between Kim Enterprises and Hyundai. The paparazzi were definitely going to be there and with all eyes on him, Taehyung decided that he might as well look good.

Friday Evening.

By the time Taehyung had returned to his place, he was both drained and exhausted, the idea of taking a nap and ditching the event seeming all too tempting. Namjoon this morning had felt the need to visit almost every high end store he could think of and try on the most useless things including scarves, gloves, and a whole bunch of other things. Basically going back and forth all across the mall whenever he’d regret not buying something.

He carried his bags upstairs to his room, ready to plop onto his bed and take a well deserved nap, but of course as always the universe seemed to work against him.

“I’ve been waiting for you!” he silently cursed to himself, asking himself why he thought it was a good idea to give Sunhi access to his penthouse. “Of course you went shopping without me, and to think I wanted to color coordinate,” she puckered her lips attempting to give him a small kiss on the lips, but before she could Taehyung had turned his cheek causing her to almost entirely miss.

She quickly composed herself acting as if that didn’t just happen, instead beginning to rummage through his bags, complimenting the things he chose while he just laid in bed slowly taking in deep breaths trying not to snap at her for coming unannounced. “So what exactly is that you came here for Sunhi…” he mumbled, failing to hide his annoyance.

She pouted, “Well you weren’t answering my texts, and I wanted to know whether you’d be going tonight…” she began to give him small pecks on his face, hoping that he’d show some kind of affection.

“I am, I am. I’m just really tired right now and in desperate need of a nap,” he responded, ignoring her obvious attempts to initiate things. His eyelids were half way closed, clearly ready to knock out at any second.

“Oh well I’ll just stay—”

“No, no. Just go back home, get ready, and I’ll see you over there okay?” his voice was much harsher this time, turning to face the other direction of his bed which was no longer facing her, a cold gesture on his part.

Sunhi sat there for a moment, feeling a mixture of both anger and disappointment. She wanted to say something, but instead crossed her arms, and let out a huff of air in response. Taking one last look at him before getting up from his bed and walking herself out. The same old feeling of being unwanted creeping into her mind, a feeling she knew all too well.

Friday Night.

By the time he had arrived, Taehyung thought that the paparazzi would’ve grown impatient waiting for him and end up leaving, but as per usual he was completely wrong. If anything, him being late had only caused them to triple in numbers. Those men really had no shame, their camera flashes penetrating through the Mercedes Benz’s tinted windows.

“You let me know when you’re ready Mr. Kim,” his security guard said. Taehyung took a deep breath, fixing his YSL brooch before nodding to him, letting him know that he was ready. He was quickly greeted with a stammering number of questions.

“Where’s Sunhi?”

“Over here! Over here!”

“How’s your night been?”

Taehyung tried to not make any faces, knowing that even the slightest lift of the brow would be taken out of context, and that by tomorrow morning there’d be a whole bunch of rumors trending on Twitter. The only thing was that the paparazzi always knew how to push his buttons whether it was shouting something rude, roughly grabbing at him, and etc. 

At this point he just needed a drink to relax and take his mind off of these low life men who had nothing else better to do than to try and make a quick buck off his name.

“Finally! Took you long enough,” he heard, quickly spotting Namjoon the moment he entered the venue, wondering if he had been waiting up front for him the whole time.

“You didn’t have to wait for me you know? And plus it’s not my fault you had me running circles around the mall,” Taehyung said causing Namjoon to scoff in response, “Has he given his speech?” the “he” Taehyung was referring to was his father.

“I honestly don’t know,” Namjoon shrugged, who like Taehyung, never did like these kinds of events as they always had him wanting to knock out halfway through, the only thing he really did appreciate was the food they served. 

The two walked towards the bar which caught their attention much more than the cathedral-inspired venue, deciding that a drink was necessary to kick the night off right.

“Two gin and tonics please,” the bartender nodded, beginning to prepare their drinks. Taehyung watched the bartender pour gin into his jigger, curious as to how someone could memorize the recipes for so many drinks. “How many years does it take for one to learn the ways of bartending?” he asked the brown-haired man, an attempt to strike conversation.

“Ah well a simple gin and tonic is something every bartender should know like it’s the back of their hand,” the man chuckled, “but if you’re talking about something like hmm,” he paused for a moment, “something like a bloody mary perhaps.”

A bloody mary? Isn’t that just vodka with some tomato juice?

“It’s much more than that,” the bartender laughed at Taehyung who was slightly taken aback, not realizing that he must’ve said what he was thinking aloud. “Though those are the two the main ingredients, it includes salt, pepper, hot sauce, garlic, herbs,” Taehyung was now genuinely curious as to where the bartender was going with this, “It covers the entire range of the human palate from sweet, salty, sour, unami, and savory but you have to make sure it doesn’t taste bitter.”

He continued talking as he poured the tonic water onto the frosted drinking glasses, “A little too much of one ingredient or a little too less and the whole drink goes to waste. You have to find a balance,” he emphasized the last part, almost as if this went beyond drinks, “Someone who wants a bloody mary is someone who definitely knows what they’re looking for,” he concludes his sermon-like speech, intensely staring at Taehyung. Namjoon looked at the man like he was crazy, who the hell overanalyzes a drink to this extent? Taehyung on the other had a look of fascination on his face, instead returning the stare.

“Well … cheers!,” Namjoon breaks the tense silence by raising his drink, momentarily being left hung dry until soon enough Taehyung lifted his drink up as well, the two of them clinking their glasses before chugging the bittersweet drink down their throats.

“Ah there he is!” Taehyung turned around, watching as his father made his way towards him, right alongside Sunhi’s parents. The two gave each other an awkward hug, “You better have a good damn reason for being so late,” his father harshly whispered into his ear before pulling back, the famous fake grin that Taehyung had grown to hate still plastered onto his face. The man was an expert at saving face, like father like son.  

Taehyung remained silent instead politely greeting Sunhi’s parents before watching the trio as they made their way to greet other guests.

“I’m going to need a second drink,” he exasperated, causing Namjoon to let out a laugh. The bartender nodded, immediately beginning to prepare their drinks.

“I’m surprised Sunhi hasn’t gotten her claws on you yet, I could’ve sworn she was here earlier,” Namjoon mentioned causing Taehyung to shrug, his expression now dulled at the mention of her.

“I feel bad, I sorta snapped at her earlier, but she kept on nagging me, wouldn’t let me sleep in peace. I blame you,” he said, commenting on the situation earlier.

“Hey I’m not the one whose forcing you to be with her,” Namjoon remarked, causing Taehyung to shoot him a glare, his eyebrows now furrowed.

Instead he changed the topic, accustomed to Namjoon’s dismay of the relationship, “I just want to go home and sleep,” Taehyung yawned, the event was boring him more and more by the minute.

“Same he—” Namjoon suddenly stopped mid sentence, something more “important” now having caught his eye.

“You’re practically drooling, you do realize that right?” Taehyung deadpanned, glancing at the girl who had caught his friend’s eye. She was pretty, he wasn’t going to lie, but she seemed like someone who was quite stuck up to be honest. But he assumed that about everyone around here as it takes one to know one. “So are you going to just stand here and stare like a creep or …”

“You don’t mind me leaving you here?” Namjoon’s voice sounded a little too excited. Taehyung shrugged his shoulders, he wasn’t the type of person who couldn’t stand being alone. In fact, he enjoyed his own company sometimes, he had actually read somewhere that it was quite important for one’s own mental health.

“I think I need to go find Sunhi either way, or else she’ll be nagging me the whole night as to why I didn’t find her sooner, that and apologize for earlier,” Namjoon nodded, lightly patting on his shoulder before making his way to the woman who had caught his eye, trying his best not to gawk so much.

“Now where could she be…” Taehyung mumbled to himself, having now left the bar and instead walking around the venue, making a half-assed attempt at looking for his girlfriend.

Taehyung could feel his legs swaying left to right, the lack of balance he had was probably laughable to anyone who wasn’t him. He wasn’t drunk, at least that’s what he was telling himself. The way the world was spinning told him otherwise. In all honesty he had only asked for a couple more drinks after the second one, but nonetheless he always was a lightweight drinker to begin with. His bladder felt as if it was going to burst at any moment so instead of Sunhi being his top priority, going to the restroom now was.

He looked around, the signs on the doors now looking slightly blurry. He grabbed the handle to what looked like could be the men’s restroom harshly pushing the door open.

Everything happens for a reason… right?

“Oh my God, It’s not what it looks like,” Because what were the chances that he caught her right in the act, with none other than Jeon Jungkook.

Taehyung had seen this situation play out in so many movies and TV shows, whereas the boyfriend usually destroys everything in his way and immediately begins to throw punches at the lover, and yada yada yada. But for some odd reason all Taehyung could do was stand there and watch as she hurriedly tried placing her bra back on.

He couldn’t help but actually want to … laugh. Really, because what were the chances? What were the chances that instead of walking into what he thought was a restroom, he instead walked in on his girlfriend and Seoul’s biggest man-whore about to fuck in a janitor’s closet.

He glanced at Jungkook who had nothing but a giant smirk plastered on his face, not even bothering to put his shirt back on.

Taehyung gathered his thoughts… What was he supposed to do again?  

Nothing. There was absolutely nothing left for Kim Taehyung to do, but to turn around and walk away. And so that’s what he did, drowning out her pleads for him to stay, a small smile gracing his lips. He was finally free.  

Namjoon must’ve left early because once Taehyung had returned back to the bar, he was nowhere to be found. He decided it was just best to leave before Sunhi could find him and start begging him to hear her out. After texting his security guard to meet him out front, he asked for a bottle of water and attempted at fully sobering up before he’d have to face several rapidly flashing lights in his face.

Did it end up actually helping? Fuck no. God, why did they have to park his Mercedes so far away. It was as if no matter how many steps he felt like he was taking, he was no closer to where he wanted to be.

“Smile for the camera man, come on!” The rapid flashes of light caused Taehyung to stumble his footsteps worse than before, the responses he gave to the multiple questions being thrown at him coming out more like mumbles and slurs. He knew that deep inside his brain was sending him signals on what to do, whether his body was listening was another story.

“Watch where you’re going man! Momma’s boy can’t handle his liq—” one of the paparazzo shouted at him while grabbing at his arm, and maybe it had been cause he was drunk, maybe because he was simply just tired, but in an instant Taehyung had felt his fist collide with the man’s face throwing everyone and everything into a frenzy. The questions and comments now coming out of their mouths at a lightning speed, some were cursing him out, others were pretending to praise him at an attempt to get him to say something, but none of it mattered because by the time he got into the car it was too late to take any of it back, and soon enough everything had gone black.

Saturday Evening.

The hangover the next day was literal hell, Taehyung felt as if the inner surface of his skull was practically being thrashed upon, his eyesight struggling to cope with the rays of daylight that directly shone on his eyes. Not only that, but his mouth had felt so dry, however having to get up for water seemed like so much work to do considering how much his back was aching.

It was like the flu except it had been self-inflicted. He attempted to raise his heavy eyelids all in one go, just for them to immediately fall shut. He could feel the constant vibrating notifications from his phone, choosing to ignore it altogether as he figured it was probably Sunhi sending him several text messages. Even if it wasn’t her, he was too lazy to even stretch his arm out and disconnect his phone. Maybe he could sleep it off, he thought to himself, curling himself back under his thick duvet.

How was it that he was barely 22 and already facing the repercussions of intense hangovers when just a couple of years ago he could drink all night long and wake up the next day hangover free. It was as if with each passing year it just got worse, no wonder so many older folks didn’t get drunk anymore, they had learnt it the hard way.

And just as he was about to fall asleep, of course his stomach had to both lurch and gurgle like some kind of trapped animal. He groaned, swinging his feet around in bed like a kid who had just been told “no”. Sadly, he was going to have to force himself to get up and so he did.

Once on his feet, he immediately felt the room sway almost causing him to lose balance until he managed to grab onto his bedstead in order to keep himself standing. He yawned and stretched out his entire body, lowkey loving the sound of his bones cracking. Time to start a new day.

After brushing up, he began to prepare himself something quick to eat fearing that his stomach was going to lash out on him any moment and so he decided to make some scrambled eggs. Quick and easy. Right?

Wrong.

The rare occasions that Taehyung did cook were always 50/50, as in there was half a chance whatever he cooked would come out either decent or completely under/over cooked. The boy practically lived off of takeout, restaurants, and microwaveable food, but at this current moment he needed food and quickly at that. Today his eggs had come out slightly undercooked with some of the yolk still a little slimy, but it was edible nonetheless.

As he ate he was genuinely surprised at the fact that Sunhi didn’t ambush his home this morning, causing him to set a reminder on his phone to remove her fingerprint off of his security system as soon as possible. He scrolled through her long thread of texts that consisted of her going back and forth between apologizing, begging, and guilt tripping him, only causing him to roll his eyes and sigh.

[Incoming Facetime from: Namjoon 🐨]

Taehyung quirked his brow before clicking “accept”.

“Weren’t you the one who scolded me about facetiming without sending a warning text,” he laughed, it wasn’t like he was lying.

“Ah I know, I know, but I felt sorta bad for just leaving last night without saying goodbye, but a man has his needs,” Namjoon now sported a giant grin on his face, probably recalling last night’s events, “and well I thought you’d be in bed hungover, in need of a wake up call,” he joked only causing Taehyung to flash him the middle finger through the screen.

“Well I’m up,” Taehyung wondered if Namjoon knew, maybe Sunhi had told him or something. He quickly scratched the idea as he knew Sunhi was the type of person to try and keep everything under wraps … but Jeon Jungkook was not.

Jeon Jungkook.

Remember the small mention of Namjoon and Taehyung fighting over the affections of a girl only for her to end up choosing someone else. That someone else was none other than Jeon Jungkook, one of Upper Seoul’s biggest man-whores, if not the biggest man whore. If Sunhi was actually someone Taehyung loved, he probably would’ve punched that stupid smirk off of Jungkook’s face last night, but luckily he didn’t have to. Did Jungkook have it out for Taehyung? It was unclear to be honest. This definitely wasn’t the first time Jungkook has attempted at sabotaging him despite Taehyung clearly showing he could care less.

In fact the two before yesterday’s incident had actually been mutual acquaintances being in the same “circle” and all. That circle being the sons of the multi million/billionares of Seoul which included names such as Kim Seokjin and Park Jimin. Namjoon in particular was good friends with Seokjin, who in return was very close with Jungkook. Seokjin and Namjoon both being the “neutral” bridge between the two. So Taehyung wasn’t going to be surprised if Seokjin had in fact informed Namjoon of yesterday’s dilemma. It had been Seokjin who told Namjoon of Jungkook’s actions of the past such as leaking Taehyung’s location to paparazzi on a number of occasions, stealing brand deals under Taehyung’s nose, and many other things.

“So…”

“I know that you know,” Taehyung chuckled out, causing Namjoon to let out a sigh of relief.

“Oh great, I was really not looking forward to beating around the bush and forcing it out of you,” he laughed, “well it looks like you got what you wanted.”

Taehyung’s nose crinkled in confusion, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh come on!—” Namjoon’s mouth curved into his famous dimpled smile, obviously trying (but failing) to repress his laugh, “Don’t act like you’re not the happiest man on Earth right now! You’ve probably been praying for something like this to happen for forever,” Taehyung’s face went sour, “You’ve needed an excuse to break up with Sunhi without you ending up being the bad guy for so long, and that’s why you probably haven’t even shedded a single tear since you found out,” he insisted causing Taehyung to let out a bitter scoff , mumbling a silent “That’s not true.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night Tae—” suddenly the sound of something abruptly falling grabbed Namjoon’s attention, “Moni! Put that down! Uh I gotta go, just text me later alright,” and with that he clicked, presumably to deal with his white feisty Eskimo.

Taehyung glanced at the clock which read 3:25PM, a small nap wouldn’t hurt right?

Sunday Morning.

So much for a “small nap”. Despite him having slept the whole Saturday off, Taehyung had woken up very early and in a good mood, ready to have himself a productive day.

He made himself breakfast that even a 5 year old could make: avocado toast with different slices of fruit and a simple protein shake. While letting his breakfast settle down in his stomach, he began to do his pre-workout stretch, with his goal in mind for today’s run being at least 6 miles.

After he was done stretching, he went down to the lobby making sure to politely greet his “neighbors”. They were the same people who kept tabs on him and sold him out to the press every chance they got, but not like he could lash out on them so instead he was forced to give them fake smiles along with stiff waves.

During his morning run, Taehyung took into appreciation of the crisp morning air which was both cold and dry. The view of the river brought him a sense of relaxation and before he knew it, he was done with his workout.

“What a beautiful day,” he had thought to himself as he walked back to his penthouse’s building, ready to take a much needed shower, but of course he should’ve known she was going to ambush him at some point because there she was, sitting in the building’s lobby.

Once she spotted him she immediately got up from the couch. He tried to quickly outpace her and get into the elevator, but she yanked on his hand preventing him from going any further.

“Stop avoiding me… please,” she sounded distraught which confused him. She certainly didn’t look distraught when she was getting her neck sucked on by Jungkook.

“Can we do this,” he pushed her hand off, “some other time. You’re gonna make a scene,” he scolded her. The two of them were in the middle of the lobby, and even though there seemed to be no one around, he could never be too sure.

“No because it seems this is the only way I could get your attention,” she muttered , “especially considering you removed my access,” causing him to let out a stifled laugh.

“Well that’s what someone does when they’re significant other hmm I don’t know cheats on them,” his voice emphasized the last words.

“I didn’t,” she quickly lowered her voice once she realized she had shouted that part out, “cheat on you,” she mumbled. “I was about to, but I didn’t,” she dramatically waved her finger at him.

“Yeah because I walked in on you?” he wondered if she knew how stupid she sounded.

“Well maybe if you showed me some affection every once in a while I wouldn’t have resorted to such acts!” What the two hadn't realized was that there was someone in the lobby quietly hiding behind a pillar, secretly recording the interaction between the two.

“Sunhi,” he ran his hand through his hair, letting out an exasperated sigh, “can you just leave me alone? There is no fixing this, especially since this,” he made a motion with his fingers pointing to the both of them, “has been broken for a very long time.” And with the final word, he turned around and walked away, not bothering to look at her face which had now fallen from expression.

Sunday Night.

“Kim Taehyung NASTY fight with girlfriend Sunhi. Click here for more.” was what the Twitter article headlined their argument, and of course the link provided the video of the whole thing.

[From: Namjoon 🐨]

[10:10] you really can be an ass [link to video]

[To: Namjoon 🐨]

[10:11] how!!

[10:11] i just told her the truth, at the end of the day no one can tell me that I was in the wrong 🤷🏻‍♂️

[From: Namjoon 🐨]

[10:12] you’d be surprised with what knetz have to say…

[10:13] them and the media are going crazy over you unfollowing her

Taehyung scoffed while unplugging his phone and rolling to the other side of bed now that his phone was at 100%.

[To: Namjoon 🐨]

[10:14] yea well idc.

[From: Namjoon 🐨]

[10:15] well at least ur out the relationship, that’s all that matters right 😬

[10:16] looks like ur back on the market … we all know how crazy that can get

Taehyung could feel himself become stiff at the last text. What was that supposed to mean? Maybe he was overthinking it too much…  

He was a different person now, he reassured himself. Before he could dwell on it any further he decided that it was best to just go to sleep.

Monday Afternoon.

The next day Taehyung continued with his routine of making a somewhat decent breakfast, and running his daily number of miles, crossing his fingers that he wouldn’t be ambushed like the morning prior. Luckily he wasn’t.

The sensation of steamy water hitting his body was calming to him, the shower was very much needed. Trying not to get so lost in his thoughts, he began to sing the random songs that first came to mind. He’d been told by Namjoon on multiple occasions that his singing was good, but Taehyung at this current moment was just glad he lived alone. Namjoon, or anyone for that matter, would probably make fun of him for the song he was um … rapping.

“Ain't got enough money to pay me respect. Ain't no budget when I'm on the set. If I like it, then that's what I get!” his sudden motions almost made him slip, but luckily he had caught himself just in time, “yeah,” he finished off the lyric despite his near death experience.

It was once he got out the shower that he was in for a surprise.

“7 Rings… really?” Taehyung’s towel almost fell from his waist because of his jump in surprise. Thankfully he had held onto it before it could completely fall. “I didn’t take you to be such an Ariana Grande fan,” Taehyung rolled his eyes to the teasing Namjoon.

“It’s the song of the summer for your information,” he interjected, “And how the hell did you even get up here?”

“Hmm I don’t know maybe because you practically forced me to get my fingerprint and memorize your code so that I would,” Namjoon mimicked quote signs with his fingers, “stop bugging you when I could open the door myself,” causing Taehyung’s stern face to quickly become one of dumbfoundeness.

“Oh…”

“I’ll be in the kitchen making myself some food,” he playfully sighed before making his way out of Taehyung’s room.

Taehyung quickly lotioned his body, put on his overnight hair products, and threw on a baggy sweater along with some black sweatpants, assuming that Namjoon hopefully wasn’t going to try and drag him to go outside. He had a long week ahead of him which included photoshoots, interviews, meetings, and overall promotion for this brand new deal considering he currently served as the “face” to his family’s business.

“Wow making japchae, who put you in a good mood?” Taehyung laughed as he peeped over Namjoon’s shoulder, catching a whiff of the food he was making causing Namjoon to flash his dimpled smile at him.

“Well I have a date in a couple of weeks and so I’ve been practicing every chance I get,” he admitted catching Taehyung by surprise, “and before you ask, yes it’s the girl from the event on Friday.”

Taehyung tried to subdue his shock, “If I’m being honest I thought she was kind of a…” he contemplated his next choice of words, “um…”

“A one night stand,” Namjoon completed the sentence, a look of understanding on his face. “Well if I’m being honest I thought the same thing,” he cheeks reddened, “but she actually ended up being really sweet, and well I really li—”

“Okay I think I’m done hearing your little sap story that you haven’t even started,” he pretends to yawn, causing Namjoon to flash his middle finger at him which only makes him laugh, “Sorry I’m not a hopeless romantic like you.”

Namjoon scoffed as he stirred the noodles around, “So what? Deep down you know you’re one as well.”

“Yeah yeah yeah, I’ve heard it all before. Why are you here again?” Namjoon flashed his middle finger again now causing Taehyung to laugh even harder than the first time.

“You sure know how to be rude sometimes,” Namjoon was now serving the japchae onto some plates, “and I’m here because one, I was bored, and two, because I was wondering if you were going to Thursday’s brunch,” the look on Taehyung’s face gave Namjoon the answer he was looking for.

“I completely forgot about that…”

“Why am I not surprised,” Namjoon sighed while giving Taehyung his plate of food.  

“It’s always the same old place, same old routine, and most importantly the same old people,” he made sure to emphasize that last part, “you’re telling me you don’t get bored?”

“I do, but look what happened last time, I met someone new!” Namjoon bragged, only resulting in Taehyung rolling his eyes once again. “You’re like the grinch, but for love I swear,” Namjoon groaned, mentally taking note that the pleasant look on Taehyung’s face meant he had done a good job at making japchae. As long as he followed the exact amount of ingredients and steps as he did today then his date would go along just fine.

Taehyung slurped the final remaining bits of food on his plate before responding to Namjoon, “I’m fresh out of a relationship Joon, let me enjoy being single for the time being.”

“In the media’s eyes you’re fresh out of a relationship, but you and I both know that you’ve been single for a very long time,” Taehyung stayed silent at Namjoon’s words, a sudden pang of guilt now hitting him as he recalled what he had told Sunhi in the lobby that past Saturday. Did Taehyung see Namjoon’s point? Yes, of course he did. Did it feel good hearing it? No, it didn’t.

“Well um guess what, she cheated on me. I remained faithful, which honestly,” he scoffed in between his words, “was the least I could do. So stop trying to paint me as some big villain,” he sneered.

“All I’m saying is that the Taehyung I know would have never even gotten into that relationship to begin with,” Namjoon silently muttered to himself, a dismissive look on his face, causing Taehyung to let out a sardonic laugh. As if Namjoon was a better person than he was?

“And what the hell is that supposed to mean?” he snapped, “You know I’m getting real tired of your little sly comments, as if i’m not going to catch on at some point, if you have something to say then grow some balls and say it,” Taehyung's voice echoed across the kitchen walls. Taehyung’s heart was practically pounding out of his chest, his jaw now completely clenched, glaring at Namjoon. The light atmosphere in the room had become stiff in the blink of an eye.

One would think that Namjoon would be shocked, maybe even angry at Taehyung’s outburst, but all he did was stare back, seeming completely unfazed, a pot that had been bubbling for quite some time between the two finally bubbling over. Withheld opinions, finally lashed out, “I’ll just never understand why you couldn’t break up with her from the moment your dad didn’t need you to date her anymore, or why you even got with her in the first place. All you did was waste her time and let her convince herself that she was in love with you knowing damn well you’ve never felt anything from day one. I mean even now she thinks there’s something worth saving,” he cursed, his voice now elevated up several notches, “And it’s the fact that you see nothing wrong with it that makes me sick!”

Taehyung’s face immediately fell, hurt by his friend’s words, but it didn’t stop Namjoon from continuing on, “I mean the Taehyung I knew would’ve never in a million years agreed to do something like this for anyone,” disappointment evident in his voice, “let alone for your dad,” he spat. “It just,” he pauses, “It just isn’t like you Taehyung. None of this is.”

Taehyung could feel his tough demeanor crumble, “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, so stop acting like you do,” he scowled.

“It’s just funny to me, years ago you’d talk about becoming nothing like your dad, but nowadays it looks like I’m looking at his clone,” Namjoon muttered, “You’ve changed Taehyung. You may joke around with me here and there, but I can tell you’re always holding back. You leave for a whole year to God knows where, and come back a completely different person, acting like your dad’s very own fucking puppet. You’ve closed yourself off. Like, like you’re mad at the world or something, or I don’t know—”

“And what, you want the old reckless Taehyung back?! The one who destroyed everything in his fucking path! Is that what the fuck you want?” his voice boomed, but even Namjoon could see it was merely a facade, the mixture of both guilt and sadness seeping through the cracks of his voice.

“Of course not! But the Taehyung standing in front of me is no better than the one before. You may not be as reckless as you used to be, but you’re definitely just as careless,” Namjoon condemned him, “And so then I think about everything and all I could ask myself is why? Why don’t you find something or someone, you genuinely love, something that makes you happy, not your dad, not the media, YOU.”

“Because I just don’t want to Joon…”  Taehyung looked away, ashamed to make eye contact, his voice had now become a mere whisper.

“And all I can think about is if it has something to do with —” Namjoon could see Taehyung physically tense up, “Taehyung what the hell happened that night?” he pleaded desperately.

“Just don’t Joon,” and with that Namjoon knew that even he was pushing the boundaries, deciding that it was best to just keep quiet, “I came back didn’t I? ” he harshly spat.

There was a pregnant pause, “I’m sorry,” Namjoon apologized, but was only met with silence. Taehyung got up from the kitchen chair, and placed his dish into the sink, harshly passing by Namjoon.

“Make sure you lock the door on your way out,” he muttered, before making his way upstairs into his room, leaving Namjoon standing in the kitchen by himself.

Monday Night.

And so that night, Taehyung stared up at his ceiling thinking about what Namjoon had told him. He was hurt by his friend’s words, but he couldn’t deny that he didn’t understand where he was coming from …

But it wasn’t like Taehyung was a cold hearted person, or at least he’d like to think he wasn’t. Behind it all, he was still the same kind and polite person he’d always been. He was just more mature nowadays, finally growing up like he should’ve years ago. It was simply for the best.

So then why did he feel so wrong?

He felt conflicted, he felt guilt, but honestly he had been feeling guilty long before he got into a relationship with Sunhi. Maybe it was that same guilt he’s felt eating him alive for the past several years that’s made him close himself off to others. It was the same guilt that led to disappearing one night and not coming back until about a year later.

Feeling overwhelmed, he decided to get up from bed, and stepped onto his balcony just wanting to just look at the stars before going to bed. Tonight they had seemed to be shining extra bright, he attempted at counting each one, losing count mid way. 

He couldn’t help but reminisce about his childhood, when he and his mom would go camping at Noeul Campground at least once a year, and oh how the stars would shine like never before. The two of them making a game of who could come up with the best figurines using the stars. It was nights like these that he truly did miss her, but he knew she was watching over him. Forever and always.

“I know I haven’t talked to you in a while, I hope you’re not mad. I know it’s no excuse, but time nowadays just goes by so fast and well I’m coming to a point in life where I feel like I have nothing figured out. Like as if I’m not truly satisfied, and not truly well … happy. I just feel lost, Ma. I thought coming back here, I could put the facade that I was fine but,” he lets out a deep breath,”I’m just not. God I wish you were here, you’d know exactly what to say right now,” he could feel the warm droplets of water falling from his face, not bothering to wipe them off. “I’m so sorry Ma,” were his final words before stepping back inside, a peaceful slumber waiting for him in bed.

Thursday Morning.

“Ah now this is what I’ve been looking forward to,” Namjoon grinned as politely grabbed the mimosa from the bartender’s hand. Taehyung made a motion with his hand once Namjoon offered him his cup, instead leaning against the bar watching as guests made their way in and out of the venue.

Taehyung and Namjoon had made up in the days prior, Taehyung sending a “btw the japchae was too sweet 🤭” text message, as a way of telling Namjoon that all was forgiven. Taehyung in return, reflected on Namjoon’s words, deciding that he was right, something needed to change.

“This place, it’s …” Namjoon expected a complaint out of Taehyung’s mouth, “really pretty,” he finished off, genuinely surprising Namjoon.

The venue resembled some kind of greenhouse, the arrangement of dangling flowers and potted plants, along with the rays of natural sunlight peeking through the glass exterior, and the minimalist design in seat arrangement truly was a work of art. The air itself felt crisp and fresh, he assumed it was because of the mixture of the plants’ scent along with the air ventilators.

“Wow, look who's in a good mood,” Namjoon teased him, Taehyung flashing him a small smile. Despite it only being 9 o'clock in the morning, he was glad he came. It was a brand new day, and he felt optimistic that things were going to start looking up for him.

“Ah well, let’s just enjoy it while it lasts,” he responded clearly joking around, “Let’s just say I thought about everything you said, and well I just want to start fresh. No more getting pressured into things, and being so tense about everything all the time, just me going with the flow,” Namjoon quirked his eyebrow, genuinely interested in what Taehyung had to say, “Whatever happens…” he pauses, “happens,” he finishes off, a grin now on his face.

As the brunch event went on, Taehyung continued to observe people, examining what they wore, the way they spoke, how they acted, as it usually told him a lot about a person.

“I’ll take a bloody mary, light on the vodka please,” Taehyung’s ears perked up at what he heard, a bloody mary? This early in the morning? He remembered the bartender’s words from a couple of days ago.

He tried to glance at the figure who was only a couple of feet away from him, sitting in one of the many empty seats aligned at the bar. He tried using his peripheral vision to try and make out a face, but sadly whoever this was, the angle that they were sitting along with their honey colored straw hat helped cover most of their face. The only thing he could see was that whoever it was, was a female and clearly a reckless one as a bloody mary was most likely going to result in an embarrassing stain.

He wondered if she was new around here, the way she was sitting clearly told him that she probably was. You see there were almost unspoken rules in the upper class, methods on doing things, and a high regard for appearance and well her posture wasn’t exactly… the best, and the blatant disregard for the all white dress code made him curious as to who she was. Like there was some kind of pull that made him feel the need to go up to her. She seemed … different.

“And you wanted to come at me for gawking last time! You can’t even see her face from here,” Namjoon’s undeniably loud voice interrupted his train of thought.

“Um any fucking louder and I’m sure the whole place will hear you,” Taehyung face was flushed, hoping the woman didn’t hear. Namjoon raised his hands in defense.

“Hm …” Namjoon stayed silent for a couple of seconds, before a mischievous look appeared on his face, “Hey well since you’re so keen about going with flow,” he mimicked Taehyung’s word’s from earlier, “how about you go get her number and see where things go from there,” he winked. 

Taehyung quickly shook his head, garnering a laugh out of Namjoon. “Since when has Kim Taehyung been too scared to ask for someone’s number,” he teased, “Come on you know you want to, I’ll even go find something else to do just in case she rejects you, I won’t be there to see it.”

He contemplated going up to her, what if she was just another Upper Seoul brat? Worse, what if Namjoon was right and she just completely shrugged him off? No, no one shrugged Kim Taehyung off. Namjoon's grin became wider once he saw Taehyung’s eyebrows furrow, and a determined look appearing on his face.

And so with that he decided he’d go up to her, maybe try and make some small talk. It wouldn't hurt , right? At least he wouldn’t be as bored as he was now. Slowly he made his way over to the seat next to her, trying not to look so much like a creep.

“I’ll take a mimosa please,” he ordered, the bartender nodded, “So you’re not scared of spilling your drink?” Taehyung quickly noticed how tense the woman became from his question, her posture going from relaxed to completely stiff. It wasn’t until she turned to face him that Taehyung felt taken back, his heart now pounding out of his chest, and the feeling of nervousness hitting him like a wave. As cliche as he thought it sounded, she was completely mesmerizing.

“Oh uh well,” she stuttered her words out bringing him a sense of comfort that he wasn’t the only nervous one,“um,” she was looking anywhere but his eyes, “No not really, I tend to be careful with things like this,” she explained now fidgeting with her fingers. 

Maybe it had been bad luck, but a couple of seconds later Taehyung suddenly now had red tomato juice mixed with vodka plastered all over his shirt. “Oh my God! I am so sorry!” she exclaimed. 

Several guests were now staring at the scene in front of them, the unknown girl now had a look of horror on her face, but instead of being upset all Taehyung could do was genuinely laugh. “I really didn’t mean to do that, oh my—”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he reassured her, slowly pushing her hand away which was uselessly blotting his white buttoned up shirt with a napkin.

“No it’s not, I really didn’t mean to do that, I just—” her face was as red as the spilled drink itself, her words coming out completely jumbled almost as if she was talking more to herself than him.

“And I’m telling you it’s okay,” he insisted, “I think you’ve done the most interesting thing around here in a very long time,” he then stuck his hand out, “I’m Taehyung,” he introduces himself, giving her a small smile along the way.

It felt like she was staring at him for an eternity with nothing but a doe-eyed look on her face, and he wondered what was going through her head. Was he really that intimidating? With several thoughts running through his head, the feeling of regret now creeped onto the back of his mind, maybe he shouldn’t have ever come up to her. What was he thinking? This was practically all his fault.

His panic came into a halt once he felt the touch of her hand now moving along with his, “I’m Y/N.”

🧚🏻 a/n: here we goooo! finally kicking things off hehe, things should defiantly move faster from this point on, I just felt like it was important for me to establish both y/n and Taehyung’s personality, background, and all that good stuff before diving into the basis of the whole story. feel free to send me any theories, comments, asks, etc ! I shall update very soon. 

#btswriterscollective #btswritingcafe #bts fic #bts smut #bts angst #taehyung fic #taehyung smut #taehyung angst #taehyung/reader #taehyung fanfic #tae fic #tae fanfic #bangtan fanfic #bangtan smut #taehyung x reader #taehyung series #7 rings #kim taehyung #kth #kth fanfic

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Forever

One Shot: One More

Intro: How much meaning can two words actually carry?

Warnings: Language! Smut (NSFW) No under 18s

Pairings: Steve Rogers and Katie Stark (Rogers)

A/N: So this was a little idea that came to me when a friend and I were drunkenly discussing how many things you could cover simply with the words “one more.” So, here we have it in a few different contexts…and one big one! And this edit, well, if doesn’t melt your heart then you don’t have one! Thanks @angrybirdcr​

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

WARNING: If you are reading Stark Spangled Banner for the first time as it is being reposted and have not yet read it through then this contains MAJOR SPOILERS!!!!!

Stark Spangled Forever Masterlist // Main Masterlist

 April 2026.

“James Anthony Samuel Rogers I swear to God you push your sister like that again and there’s no Baseball or Soccer practice for a month!” Steve glared at his son as he picked his 23 month old daughter up from the floor.

“She started it!” the 6 year old met his glare straight back.

“One more excuse, try me!” Steve glared at him, and he should have known better when all was considered as true to form his son took his words as a challenge.

“She smashed up my lego house!”

“Yeah, and you used to smash up our actual house when you were her age.” Steve pointed at him as Aurora buried her face into the crook of his neck, sobbing loudly. Steve gently shushed her as he looked down at Jamie “you’re bigger and stronger than she is, you don’t push her or hurt her in anyway, you got that? If she’s annoying you, you come find me or your ma.” Jamie looked up at his dad for a second, before he looked down, his wrong behaviour understood “Sorry Dad.” “It’s not me you should be apologising to.” Steve said, his voice softening slightly.

Jamie looked up, his blue eyes full of tears and Steve’s heart sank. He hated seeing his kids like this but he knew he had to tell them off when they misbehaved.

“Sorry Rori.” Jamie sniffed.

Rori turned her head to face him leaving a stream of snot and drool hanging from Steve’s shoulder as she eyed up her brother.

“MkayJay…” she sniffed and she leaned forward holding her arms out to him. Steve dropped her to the floor and she toddled across to his open arms and gave her elder brother a hug. Steve smiled as he watched them, despite the fact she bugged the crap out of him Jamie would do anything for his baby sister. Steve knew that.

He also knew that it was only fair Rori got chastised for her part in the argument. So he crouched down in front of them both and he looked at her.

“Aurora, you don’t touch Jamie’s toys unless he says you can ok?” he said to her, firmly but not angrily “You have enough of your own to play with.”

Or destroy as the case may be Her big green eyes, so like her mothers looked back and him and she nodded, looking down at the carpet, suitably chastised, her voice quiet “ok daddy” “Good girl.” He smiled, brushing her brunette hair off her face. When she looked back he was pleased to see both of them were smiling again. Crisis averted, discipline delivered… “Cookie?” Rori asked hopefully and Steve sighed. He and Katie had been hoping that she would have slightly less of an appetite than her brother but no. The serum was as much a part of her as it was him. He glanced at his watch and seeing it was almost 4:30 pm he knew Katie would be home any time and he had just started their dinner before world war 3 had broken out in the living room. So as far as cookies went he really shouldn’t… “One.” He relented “but you better eat your dinner. And don’t tell momma.” He held out his hand. Aurora slipped her small palm into his and they headed into the kitchen, Jamie following.

There were no more tantrums or arguments that evening, just a small plea from Jamie as he tried desperately  to avoid going to bed at his 9pm weekend curfew      “Just one more please Momma and then I’ll go to bed I swear” he said from his spot sat in between Katie’s legs in front of her on the piano stool. Katie sighed and looked at Steve who leaned in the doorway of the smaller lounge at the back of the house and cocked his head to the side, raising his eyebrows before he shrugged. “One more…” she relented and Jamie clapped his hands as she placed her fingers onto the keys of the piano in front of her, Jamie lying his hands on the top of his mom’s. He wasn’t interested in learning to play, not really. Baseball and soccer were his things, but he enjoyed this, the alone time with his momma and dad that the two parents tried to ensure each of their younger kids got fairly (Emmy being far too old for any of that ‘mushy shit’ now) Katie’s hands flew over the keys and her soft voice gently filled the room as she sang, Jamie joining in after giving her a little grin when he recognised what she was playing. “I wanna be where the people are I wanna see Wanna see ‘em dancing Walking around on those…”

She stopped playing and looked down at Jamie playfully “What do you call ‘em?” “Feet!” Jamie said, holding his leg up. Steve let out a soft smile at the display of playfulness and affection between his wife and son as Katie laughed and carried on with the song. Eventually they finished and without protest Jamie turned to his mom and placed his arms round her neck. “Night Momma. I love you.” “Love you too baby boy. I’ll be up soon to tuck you in when you’ve finished your story ok?” He jumped down from the bench and headed over to his dad who gently guided him out of the room with a large, gentle hand on the back of his head. As he turned to go he cast a look over his shoulder as Katie stood up, closing the lid on the American Walnut finished Bösendorfer 155 baby grand piano he had bought her for her 40th. She turned to face him, and shyly smiled in the same way she always did when she caught him looking at her the way he was right then, the expression on his face soft, conveying just how much he loved her and it still knocked her off her feet. “You’re beautiful.” He said softly as she brushed past him in the doorway. “Charmer” she smiled as he captured her lips in a soft kiss before giving her ass a friendly squeeze with both his palms before he headed off after Jamie for their usual bed time stories. A father-son routine that Steve hoped Jamie wasn’t gonna grow out of any time soon.

A story about 1920s Gangsters later Steve bid Jamie goodnight and strode over the landing to Rori’s bed room. He picked up the stuffed bear that had fallen out of her toddler bed and, tucking it in next to her, he straightened the covers around his daughter’s chin and dropped a kiss to her head.  “Sweet dreams Princess” he said, standing up and turning off the lamp, flicking the pony night light on. “You know when they’re in bed I actually understand why we had them.” He chuckled gently as he entered the kitchen where Katie was unloading the dishwasher. Katie laughed softly  “They’re good kids really.” “I know.” Steve’s arms circled her waist “What time is Emmy back?” “You told her midnight…so probably about 5 past.” she grinned. “She text me before, she’s fine. Pete took her to a burger joint and they were just about to go into the movies…” “Better not be on the back row” Steve grumbled. “She’s 18 Steve.” Katie laughed before she sighed. “They’re all growing up so fast” “You not fancy one more?” He asked, his nose brushing against her jaw. Katie stilled and turned her head to face him. “I’m 42, still carrying extra pounds from Rori. And trust me when I say after her birth, I have no desire to push a baby out of my vagina ever again” Steve laughed loudly, his head tipping back as he did so. “Just a thought” he said, kissing the side of her neck before he straightened up. “You fancy a glass of wine?” “Getting me drunk will not make me agree to having another baby…” Katie sly eyed him as he opened the wine chiller and pulled out a bottle of Sancerre. Steve rolled his eyes “That’s not what I was trying to do… I thought seeing as they’re asleep, its Friday…we could sit outside by the fire pit and take some us time. Maybe I can make some loving on my baby momma.” She smiled and slipped her arms round his waist, standing on her tip toes to give him a kiss. “Sounds perfect daddy, let me just go tuck Jamie in and I’ll be with you.” *****

June 2026

Steve looked at his wife, simply smiling as she talked. It wasn’t often they got out like they had done before the kids, but tonight they were out for a meal and a few drinks for her birthday. She looked stunning. Her hair was curled loosely, hanging to one side over her right shoulder, her eyes were highlighted even more by the light brown shimmer that sat on her lids and her lips were plump and glossed with a soft, almost neutral pink. It reminded him a lot of how she had looked on her first date. Similar, but yet slightly different. A bit like them really. They weren’t radically different but everything they had been through, seen, done, becoming parents…it had made them evolve in a way but Steve’s heart still burst with pride and lust and love whenever he looked at the woman sat in front of him. Yes she had changed physically over the years. Taught lines of muscle had given way to softer curves over her stomach and thighs, her hips were bigger- not much- but it only served to emphasise her small waist even more. The curve of her ass was more pronounced as was her chest, both of which Steve was more than happy about, especially tonight as they were emphasised even more by the tight black cut off capris she was wearing, low cut shimmering gold top and high heels that made her shapely legs look even more toned. And right now he was imagining them hooked around his shoulders… “Are you even listening to me?” She sat back, glass of crisp white wine in her hand, a teasing smile on her face. He looked beyond gorgeous. Short, dark beard flecked with grey, strands of his short hair also Iightening slightly. His black long sleeved sweater which although loose did nothing to hide his still ridiculously toned physique underneath. He was deep in thought, but relaxed, she could see that from the way he sat. His elbow was leaning on the table, chin resting gently in his hand, his fore and middle fingers making an L shape against his cheek as his thumb gently brushed against the beard underneath his chin. She raised her eyebrows silently requesting an answer and he took a deep breath, and cocked his head slightly more to the left, eyes crinkling even further as he suppressed a chuckle because he had been caught, red handed.  “Sorry baby I was just thinking.” “You were miles away.” She said softly, leaving forward “what’s going on Soldier” He loved how she still called him that. And right then it made him want to bend her over the table and fuck her senseless. He squirmed slightly and picked up his wine glass, leaving back in his chair “Just thinking about you, how lucky I am…how gorgeous you are…” his voice dropped as he arched an eyebrow “and the things I’m intending on doing to you tonight.” They headed to a bar and bumped into Marcus and his brother, Allan, two of the guys who had religiously attended Steve’s support groups pre and post snap. Marcus gleefully told then that his wife, one of the returned, was expecting their first baby, news which both Katie and Steve had greeted with congratulations and a bottle of Don Perignon As they chatted and laughed with their friends, Katie was very aware of how tactile Steve was being. A hand on her back, skimming her ass every now and then, squeezing her hip, soft kisses to her temple and cheek.. it was all driving her wild so after an hour or so in the bar, when he asked if she was ready for home she greeted him with an affirmative nod. He held out her jacket for her, hands skimming the bare skin on her shoulders making her shiver. They bid their friends goodbye and headed out, hand in hand to hail a cab. Katie stole a glance at her husband, the father of her children and a fire lit in her belly. She had never loved anyone as much as she loves him. He wasn’t perfect, but neither was she. But they accepted each others faults as much as they loved each others better traits. He was an affectionate and loving man, both with her and their kids. Firm but fair and never shied away from lavishing affection on any of them. And then, in the dimly lit back seat if that yellow New York cab as it headed over Brooklyn Bridge something stirred in both her heart and her mind. She leaned over to him and gently nuzzled her nose into his neck, breathing in his aftershave. He gave an involuntary shiver and moved his arm around her shoulder as her nose now moved over the short whiskers that adorned his jaw and cheeks up to his ear where she whispered. “One more…” He turned to her, his eyes shining as he looked at her, smiling softly. “You sure?” He asked, barely able to believe it. She placed a soft kiss to his lips and whispered into his mouth. “Yeah, I’m sure.” It was all Steve could do to keep himself from jumping her there and then but somehow his will power held out. Once home, Emmy had simply raised her eyebrows when they had popped their heads into the lounge and told her and Peter not to stay up to late, and then rolled her eyes when Steve had pointedly told Peter the spare room was the 1st door on the right after you climbed the stairs. Closing the door to the lounge, Steve slung his wife over his shoulder causing her to giggle as he carried her upstairs, dropping her gently on her feet in the bedroom when she exclaimed she needed to pee. Steve shrugged off his sweater and was midway into undoing his trousers when she emerged from the bathroom, her pants in her hand, leaving her clad in just that delectable top and underwear. He felt his cock twitch at the sight of her almost naked ass and long legs. As she walked past, heading to the laundry basket in the corner of the room,  Steve looped both arms round her waist and pulled her discarded clothes from her hands, dropping them to the floor. He tugged her back into him, his hands gripping the hem of her top before he pulled it over her head, hands setting on her hips as she rolled her head back against his shoulder so he could lightly graze her skin with his lips.  Her hands gently moved between them as she undid the clasp on her bra and Steve slid the straps down, placing soft kisses to each of her shoulders causing her to shudder as he tossed that to the floor too. His palms flattened on her stomach as her arms slid up and connected round the back of his neck, pushing her chest up and he gave moan as he glanced down and saw her presented to him. One of his large hands crept into the front of her lace briefs, the other up to her chest, gently tweaking and playing with her as he saw fit, lips skating over her neck. “So beautiful…” he whispered and she moaned and writhed in delight at his praise and his actions as he worked her over “such a good girl for me…” Her head fell back even further into him as she let out a soft whimper of his name, his hands upping their pace slightly as she began to buck into his touch. She arched her back, her mouth fell open and then her head rolled forward as she came, knees trembling, her hands pulling at his hair. He held her up in his strong arms and whilst she was still in the after throws of bliss he nipped at her neck, drawing a soft groan from her mouth. “Gonna fuck a baby into you…” he said, lips hot on her ear “fill you up, see you all round with my child again…that what you want?” “Please…” she sighed, “Please put a baby in me, Daddy…”   His hands fell to her hips and he spun her round, lips crashing to hers almost bruisingly before he walked her backwards, her knees colliding with the bed as she fell back wards, Steve crawling over the top of her. His lips skated down from her mouth, to her neck, between the valley of her breasts and to her naval where his nose skimmed across the waistband of her panties. He hooked his fingers into the top and slid them down over her thighs, a hot kiss dropping to her ankle. His beard scratched her soft skin as he nipped his way up her leg, before setting his mouth to her. He licked, sucked, bit as she keened into him, her hands tangling into his hair as she writhed and groaned, trying but failing to keep her noise down. It wasn’t long before he’d gotten her there again and as she fell back, panting slightly he crawled over her, ridding himself of the remainder of his clothes as he did so. His hands placed either side of her head, he dropped his mouth to her ear and kissed just underneath before he whispered “I know you got one more in you baby…” as he pushed into her, the pair of them groaning at the sensation.

And she did. As he thrust into her powerfully, her hands skated up his arms to hi back, nails dragging down his skin. It was an assault on her senses, and as he continued to love her in a way only he could, the heat was rising again and she found herself teetering on the edge.

“That’s my girl…” Steve panted out as she arched her back and came again, this one leaving her utterly shattered. Steve wasn’t far behind her, releasing inside of her before they both collapsed, utterly boneless and melted completely into the bed beneath them. Her hands gently tangled into his hair and he lazily picked his head up and gave her a soft kiss, his nose rubbing up against hers.

“I love you baby girl.” he said softly, lips pressing against hers.

“Love you too…” she whispered into his mouth.

***** February 2027 Katie glanced down at the small, white stick in her hands. She inhaled sharply as she glanced at the result and tears filled her eyes as she stood up from the toilet where she had been sat on the lid, waiting for those precious last few seconds to pass.

Her mind strayed to the conversation they had held on Christmas eve little over 6 weeks prior…

“You know… it’s kind of ironic” Katie sighed as she nestled into Steve further, her head on his chest as the arm round her gently traced shaped on her side, under her jumper. “What is?” He asked, although he had a feeling he knew what was wrong. She sat up and looked at him, her eyes sad. “We’ve been trying for our little one more ow for 6 months. Doing everything right and…” she took a deep breath “maybe I just can’t anymore. I’m sorry Steve” “Hey.” He frowned, shifting so he was looking at her as she blinked, trying to stop the tears from falling “You have nothing to apologise for.” “I just know how much you wanted this and…” “Stop.” He said almost sternly as he gently cupped her face in his hands “we already have 3 beautiful kids. I don’t want you feeling like this” He hated it. Hated the fact he felt like he had backed her into this in a way. She was feeling inadequate and she was anything but. “I wish you’d told me you felt like this sooner.” He said softly, and she shrugged as he pulled her face to meet his in a soft, tender kiss. “One more try.” He rest his forehead against hers, his decision made “One more month and we forget it. I’m not having you feeling like this anymore baby. I love you too much to see you hurting ok?” She nodded and smiled gently, her hand reaching up and her fingers gently scratching through his beard. He closed his eyes and then her lips were on his, pulling him down on top of her on the couch, the movie on the tv completely forgotten as they lost themselves in each other again, moans and sighs filling the softly lit room.   No more tries. “Honey?’ Steve called later that evening, his keys dropping to the table in the hall as he greeted their now, very elderly dog, before he headed into the kitchen. She was sat at the table, eating dinner in between watching Aurora feed herself. Jamie was tucking into his food with gusto as both kids beamed at their daddy who greeted them both in turn. “Hi.” Katie smiled softly at him, taking the kiss he offered on her cheek “dinner is in the oven” “Sorry I’m late.” He said “ the faculty meeting went on a bit longer than I thought and then we got caught discussing the next semester…” “Steve it’s fine.” She assured him, taking a drink of her soda, eyes still on her fiercely independent daughter who probably had more spaghetti round her face than in her stomach. “How was your day son?” He asked once he had grabbed his plate and settled into the seat next to him at the oak table. “Ok.” Jamie shrugged. “Ok?” Katie looked at him “more than ok sweetie, tell your dad what you got in class!” “Oh I got the class weekly gold star for my art” he said, excitement flooding his tone. “No way!” Steve beamed at him, he loved the fact his son had inherited his talent “for the sketch you did of the planets?” Jamie nodded as he smiled. “Proud of you buddy” he said, ruffling his hair as Jamie’s grin at his fathers praise practically split his face in half. A few hours later both kids were in bed, they’d skyped Emmy who was just getting ready to go to a party in one of the dorms, something Steve wasn’t feeling all too comfortable about, and were heading up to bed. Steve was just about to make his way into the bathroom for a shower when Katie stopped him. “I have something to tell you.” She said softly before she opened the drawer at the side of her bed and with a sigh she pulled out the test. Steve felt his heart sink as she turned around and held it out to him. “Baby don’t be upset.” He said softly, as he took it, giving it a cursory glance “we agreed that if it didnt…” He trailed off and looked again. 2 blue lines. 2. “Oh my…shit.. Katie…” he looked up at her, his face shocked before he gave out a splitter of a laugh and grabbed her hips, swinging her up in the air. She laughed as he set her in her feet, giving her a soft kiss “You sure?” He asked, wanting to believe it but not daring to at the same time “Maybe you should do one more to be sure?” With a smirk she turned and reached into the drawer and began to toss test after test on the bed. 10 in total, including the one still in Steve’s hand. “Way ahead of you there soldier” “You’re incredible…” he said, tossing the plastic stick onto the bed and pulling her closer “My fucking incredible…” kiss “amazing…” kiss “ gorgeous” kiss “baby momma…” This time when his lips met hers she wrapped her arms round his neck and held him in place whilst she kissed him hard, deep, passionate before she pulled away, her fingers felt tracing his t-shirt clad chest “you mentioned something about a shower…” Grinning his hands slid under her ass and she laughed as he hauled her up, legs wrapping round his waist as he walked them into the en-suite.

***** May 2027 Steve woke first that morning. Gently pressing a kiss to Katie’s cheek he left her asleep, climbing out of the bed and heading into the bathroom. Once he’d seen to his bladder, he pulled on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt and headed out onto the landing.

He poked his head into Jamie’s room first, and his son grinned at him as he turned his eyes from the TV onto his father. Lucky jumped down from is spot on Jamie’s bed and headed over to Steve for an ear scratch.

“Morning buddy.” Steve looked at his son.

“Morning dad…you making breakfast?” Food, as always the first thing on his mind.

Steve nodded and Jamie scrambled out of bed, following him as he next headed to Rori’s room. She was still asleep so he left her to it. Finally he knocked on Emmy’s door and she told him to come in.

“Hey…” he frowned as he saw her on her bed, surrounded by text books “its early Sunday…you got work to do?”

“Studying.” She grumbled.

“Ok well, take a break yeah? I’m gonna start breakfast”

“I’ll be down in a minute.” She hummed at him and he nodded, closing the door.

Steve opened the back door to let Lucky out whilst Jamie sat at the table with a yawn as Steve set the coffee going and poured Jamie an orange juice.

“Thank you.” He said as he set it down in front of him “Dad?”

“Yeah pal?”

“What was Momma asking you for one more of last night?”

Oh…fuck…

Steve felt himself go bright red, as he could clearly remember exactly what Katie had been begging him for more of.

“Erm…” he turned away, cursing inwardly as he glanced around desperately trying to think of an answer Jamie would buy. “I…er….” he reached into the cupboard for the bread, and then the answer suddenly hit him in the face

“Chocolate!” He practically exploded as his eyes fell on the jar of spread.

“Chocolate?” Jamie cocked his head to one side as Steve turned to face him. “In the middle of the night?”

“Yeah well, you know the baby makes her want it…like you made your mom want peanut butter and Rori made her want strawberries, this time she wants chocolate”

“Oh.” He said, nodding “Ok. Did you give her some?”

Steve was thankful that his son couldn’t see his face as he threw 4 slices of bread in the toaster. Pressing his lips together to try and stop the smirk on his face, because he had indeed given her some, so to speak, before he turned and nodded.

“Yup.” He said “Sure did…”

August 2027 “One more baby.” Steve urged, his wife’s hand tightly gripping his right, his left brushing her hair back off her face “One more honey, you got this.” With a loud yell and a final, almighty effort she sagged back on the bed as a piercing cry hit their ears. “You did it…” Steve said, his eyes welling up “I’m so proud of you, Darlin’, you did it…” She laughed through her tears as their baby was placed on her chest, cries giving way to soft wimpers which turned into those familiar nickering noises babies make as their newest addition pressed into his momma, pink and wrinkled, brown hair spattering his head, his eyes the same shape and colour as his fathers, but the Stark nose stood out clearly, just as it did with Jamie. Their little one more, Henry Steven Rogers, Harry for short, opened his eyes for the first time to reveal a shock of baby blue and Steve felt his heart swell even more. Out of all their kids he had been the easiest to name. Henry chosen by Steve, Steven picked by Katie, Harry agreed upon by both. There was no 3rd name. They didn’t have one they liked or felt drawn to and besides, in Katie’s eyes he didn’t need one, because his fathers was worth two. Something which had made Steve’s eyes fill with emotion when she had told him that. Harry was measured, weighed and returned to his father wrapped in a soft blue blanket as Steve preened over his latest progeny, another male to carry the Rogers name down the line. Eventually he began to fuss and was handed to his mother for his first feed, Steve settling in their bed, arm round Katie as he watched his son’s cheeks work hungrily. “I love you” he said gently, tilting Katie’s face round to his, placing a soft kiss on her lips. “I love you too..” she smiled before they both looked down at their baby as he suckled on his mothers breast, tiny hand shaped in a fist which rest against her exposed skin. Steve gently traced his youngest son’s cheek with his finger, his chest felt like it was going to explode with emotion. After a few hours of being on their own with their baby boy, Katie having been cleaned up and Harry settled and changed and fed again, the peace of their hospital room was shattered. “There really should only be 4 visitors…” Steve heard the nurse say as the door hovered open a few inches. “Oh come on, what’s one more?” Sam’s voice pleaded. She must have acquiesced as the door opened further and their eldest and second eldest shot into the room, followed by Sam and Buck with their now second youngest held on his hip. “Oh Mom!” Emmy gushed, her large brown eyes shining as she looked down at her baby brother in her mothers arms whilst the men were exchanging back slaps and hugs “he’s beautiful” “Course he is” Steve replied, taking Rori and walking her to the bed so she could look at her baby brother “Your mom made him” Katie smiled up at Steve “You had something to do with it…” “The enjoyable bit.” We winked as Emmie moaned

“Gross..” Jamie climbed up onto the bed, his mum gently pushing down the blanket so he could see Harry’s face clearly. The sun was peeking through the blinds, the room was loud and crowded as their older kids aged 19, 7 and 3, and their friends- their brothers- took turns to hold and meet the newest addition to the Rogers family. Steve dropped a kiss to Katie’s head, the pair of them sharing a deliriously happy look.

“Thank you.” Steve said, resting his head against hers. “Thank you for this one more and for making me the happiest man alive”

#stark spangled forever #steve rogers #Katie Stark #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fic #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character #chris evans #chris evans characters

[ellewritesathing]

Faking It  -  V

Summary: You’d done plenty of dumb things in your life, but the dumbest had to be picking Greendale’s latest bad-boy to pretend to be your boyfriend.

Masterlist  Prev. | Part 5

Word-count: 2.6k+

A/N: ... so that was some rough stuff. i hope this makes up for it!!  💕

Considering that your relationship with Caliban had been entirely fake from the start, you had no reason to be as pissed off about it ending as you were. But there you were: lonely and pissed off, with all the little trinkets he’d ever given you surrounding where you were moping on your bedroom floor. 

The flower he’d picked from the field and put in your hair? In the shoebox. The ticket stubs from the first movie you’d seen together? In the shoebox. The detention slip you’d gotten when you cut class together that he’d written and drawn all over? In the shoebox. Any and all feelings towards him? In the goddamn shoe box. 

Despite the progress you were making with trashing your room, you and your brooding were interrupted by someone knocking at your window. You pretended not to notice Harvey perched haphazardly on your window sill and started heading out to the hall when Sabrina stepped out to block you. For a tiny person, she could be pretty intimidating when popping out of the shadows like that.

“Open the window,” she said. 

“You can’t tell me what to do. This is my house.” 

“Your house is going to have a dead body out front if you let Harvey dangle out there for another five minutes. He’s not exactly well coordinated.” 

You rolled your eyes before walking over and throwing the window open. Harvey swore as he climbed through and you walked over to flop on your bed. As you settled on your bed, Sabrina dusted Harvey off and checked that he was okay - a very small action that made you feel sick given your very recent single status. 

“So what do the two of you want?” you asked. They looked awkwardly at each other and you rolled your eyes. “Come on, you ambushed me in my bedroom. You want something. Spit it out.”

“It’s not that we want something,” Sabrina said, gingerly making her way over to your bed. She made a spot for herself among all the junk you had piled high around her. “We just wanted to check on you. It’s been a while since anyone saw you.” 

“It’s been a day, first of all.” You waved your finger around as you spoke. “And second of all, that still means you still want something.” 

Harvey mumbled your name and sat on the bed right next to you, forcing you over to the side of the bed with the junk if you didn’t want to be crushed. “Come on. Just tell us what’s going on with you.” 

“Harvey, you were there,” you said. “Both of you were there. You know what’s going on.” 

“Caliban never told us what happened. He left right after you did,” Sabrina said. 

Did he try to come after you? His car was a lot faster than yours so he would've- 

“Did something happen with Lucy?” 

You scoffed and took something out of the junk pile to fiddle with. Did something happen with Lucy? I don’t Brina, what was your first clue? 

“Yeah, something happened with Lucy,” you said instead of snapping. “They were making out and I caught them. The cycle of bullshit continues.” 

“Oh, Y/N,” Sabrina said softly. 

At the same time, Harvey got awkward next to you as he reached for your hand. “I know how you feel,” he said with a small smile. “Fucking sucks.”

You laughed and pulled yourself up to hug him. The two of you had been through a lot together, but this was by far the weirdest thing yet. You had the lucky experience of being heartbroken over the same two people kissing, how many best friends could say that? 

“Okay, you two, stop moping,” Sabrina said as she got up. “We’re going out. You, get dressed. You, help me get Roz and Theo.”

“I’m not leaving the house until I absolutely have to. My plans are to burn that box and watch 10 Things I Hate About You so I can cry over Heath Ledger.” 

And not Caliban. 

“Fine, then we’ll have a movie night!” Harvey said. He sounded too cheery at the thought of being cooped up in the house with you. “Then you don’t even have to get changed, but, uh, you are starting to smell, so maybe you should.”

“Harvey, so help me God-”

After taking a shower and getting into fresh sweats, you spent the rest of the long weekend curled up with your friends under a mountain of blankets and eating so much junk food that your stomach hurt. Despite your determination to be in a bad mood, spending this much time with them got you to stop thinking about Caliban and lifted your spirits. 

It was still awkward whenever one of them would slip up and mention him before turning very quickly to check that you weren’t going to burst into tears, but it got better. Roz braided your hair and Theo distracted you by telling you all about this kid named Robin that he met. It was the best post-breakup hangout you guys had had yet. 

That perfect little bubble of denial burst when you got into the car to drive yourself to school and found Caliban’s jacket waiting for you in the passenger seat. He’d left it thereafter you convinced him to let you drive him home after one of his boring baseball games.

Once you got to school, you gathered the jacket and everything else you wanted to return and stomped over to Caliban’s locker. He looked a lot more like the pissed off wannabe Abercrombie & Fitch model you met those months ago and less like the softer version of Caliban you’d come to know. You didn’t know if it made you sadder or feel pettily vindicated. 

You faked a sweet smile at him when he closed the door and saw you standing there. “Here’s all your crap.” 

Caliban looked down at the box and took it without anything more than a thank you. But even if he didn’t say anything else, he didn’t make any attempts to walk away. He just stood there, looking at you with those confusing eyes. Was he trying to say something? Trying to figure out how you felt?

Whatever he was doing, you didn’t want any part of it. You mumbled a goodbye before shaking your head and turning to walk away. 

“So that’s it?” he asked. Caliban hadn’t moved an inch when you turned around but he looked … sadder, less angry somehow. Still confusing.

“What do you want me to say?” you asked. “That we both knew this was a bad idea from the start? That I’m the idiot who got emotionally attached? Something like that, Caliban?” 

“Emotionally attached?” Caliban repeated. 

The bell rang before you could curse him out, so you decided to listen to divine intervention for once in your life and just walked away. Every step you took broke your heart a little more because the sound of your shoes hitting the ground reminded you that he was never going to come after you. 

---

A week passed and he still hadn’t come after you. It made being at school remarkably awkward given how your friends had attached to him, but you pushed through it. Until Harvey ambushed you. Meet him by the locker room after practice and you’d get lunch, he said. Bullshit. 

It was suspicious enough that he wanted you to wait for him by the locker room and even more so when it took him twenty minutes to change, but you let it slide. What you wouldn’t let slide, however, was when you came out of the restaurant bathroom and Caliban was seated across from Harvey. In your spot. 

“What the hell is going on here?” you asked, stopping in front of the table and pointing an accusatory finger at Harvey and then at Caliban. “You hate him.” 

“Yeah, but you don’t,” Harvey said, getting up to stop you from bolting out the door. “Just hear me out, okay?” 

“After this, I don’t think I’m listening to you ever again unless it’s to make fun of you,” you said. All your snark aside, you let Harvey guide you into a seat. But then he just sat there, looking nervous and unsure about the situation while you grew restless. “So are you going to say anything?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, totally,” Harvey said. He leaned closer and looked down for a second as he strung his thoughts together. “You guys have been huge downers since you broke up. You’re moping all the time and listening to sad music and you’re racing and getting into fights-” 

“You’re fighting again?” you asked, knitting your face together slightly as you looked at him. 

Caliban had told you bits and pieces about his fighting. He had anger issues as a kid so he’d always been in some kind of contact sport. Between that training and the bullying, he’d learned how to be a pretty decent fighter. And then he got old enough to get a believable fake ID and start fighting underground. God knows he didn’t need the money, but you had the feeling it was the only way he felt anything other than angry and empty.

“Not like that,” Caliban said quietly, looking at you for a moment before returning his attention to Harvey. 

Liar.

“Yeah, well, whatever,” Harvey said, skipping over all the tension. “Point is: You were annoying when you were dating, but it’s even worse when you’re not. Just talk it through, alright? Please?”

You shrugged and Harvey went on for a few more awkward minutes before getting up and telling you he’d be waiting in the car for you. The restaurant felt suffocatingly silent without him, but you didn’t know what to say and Caliban wasn’t exactly known for his emotional vulnerability. 

So you used this quiet time to think about how you’d paint this scene: You on one side of the table, muted colors and soft lines making you up but reds and oranges all around you, and Caliban on the other made up in harsh, black and white lines and blues surrounding him. You’d call it Starcross’d. Fake your death and sell it for thousands on the black market. 

It was the perfect plan, really, if it weren’t for those perfectly imperfect hands on the table. Calluses were starting to form on the undersides that you could only partially see, the knuckles were slightly swollen and red, and his boney fingers tapped the table absent-mindedly as he thought. All you wanted to do was reach out and hold them, a quality you could never capture on canvas. It fucked up your painting just like he fucked up everything else. 

“I’m not sure where to start,” Caliban said quietly. You’d been so busy staring at his hands that you hadn’t noticed him staring at you until you looked up. “I’ve never had this kind of relationship with someone, fake or not. It’s all very confusing.” 

That made you laugh a short and bitter laugh as you straightened up in your seat. “Yeah, tell me about it.” 

Caliban smiled slightly but there was something else there. He was nervous. “I’m not very good at this.”

“Try.” 

He took a breath and shifted in his chair, drawing his hands in and tapping them one more time. “This meant more to me than I expected it to,” Caliban said. “I thought it would be fun for a week or so to mess with Billy, and then when Harvey got so mad at me … He was talking to me again. I gave it another week.”

“Are you trying to tell me that you only liked me because it made Harvey mad?”

“That’s not what I meant.” Caliban sighed and mumbled under his breath about not being good at this. “What I meant is that I like you because you’re the only liar I’ve ever met who can’t throw a punch. You’re funny, and smart, and insanely competitive in a way that doesn’t make me care if I lose,” he said with a short laugh. “And you showed me that Harvey would still talk to me if I didn’t piss him off.” 

He looked annoyingly sincere as he spoke with his eyes avoiding yours. As much as you wanted to believe him, you weren’t sure you could open yourself up to him and his bullshit again.

“Let’s say I believe you - which I don’t - then why did you lie about you and Lucy?”

“I never lied about her,” Caliban said, careful to keep calm. He looked like he was straining to keep his voice even, clearly uncomfortable with talking about himself. “Lucinda was my best friend - my only friend - for many years but she can be … possessive. I went up to explain to her that I couldn’t do it again and tell her that I thought she should leave. She didn’t handle the rejection too well.” 

“It didn’t look like a rejection from where I was standing,” you mumbled. 

“I know, and I’m sorry. Truly,” Caliban said, almost reaching across to you. He took a breath and pulled his hand back. “She kissed me and I panicked like a stupid twelve-year-old boy. You caught the wrong end of it and I just thought … you deserved so much better than me anyway. If you wanted to leave, I wasn’t going to be the one to hold you back.” 

“Bullshit.” You leaned forward and got close enough that he had to take his eyes off his hand and look at you. Your voice was harsher than you meant it to be, but you were still so angry at him. “You didn’t stop me because you were scared, not because you’re some noble knight.”

“Don’t you get it?” Caliban asked, his voice just as harsh as yours. “That’s the point. I didn’t come after you because that’s not who I am. I am not a noble knight. I’m not the person you deserve.”

“You don’t get to make decisions about what I deserve,” you said. You were close enough to him still that you could almost feel him breathing. It made your heartbeat annoyingly fast. 

“I should. You might end up with a good guy,” Caliban said quietly, dropping his eyes to his hands again. They were close to your own now that you’d gotten all up in his face, but he wasn’t moving them any closer.

“Believe it or not, I still think you’re a good guy,” you said, voice just as quiet. “I’m just not sure if I … I don’t know if I can do this again. All the lying and secret-keeping.” Caliban started pulling away and saying something but you grabbed hold of his hand. “So if we do this again-” you said, talking over his arguing “-Then we do it for real. No more lying from either of us.” 

Caliban took a breath as he adjusted to the new position the two of you were in. He started untangling one of his hands and you held tighter before he tilted his head slightly and pulled his hand free. He lifted it to move some hair out of your face.

“I never lied to you.”

“Then you’ve got nothing to lose,” you said with a small smile. 

He shook his head and smiled to himself as he looked down at the table. “Are you sure you want to do this again?” 

Honestly, no. The only thing you were sure about was that your life kind of sucked without that pissed off Abercrombie & Fitch model. 

That, and if you ever saw Lucy again you’d knock her teeth out. 

“Well, it’s either you or Billy, and I fucking hate Billy,” you said.  

At least he laughed at your joke, that was progress. 

“Alright,” Caliban said eventually. He still seemed sad but he was calmer as he looked back up at you. “But you need to let me make this up to you before anything else.” 

You smiled. “I’m sure you’ll figure something out, Abercrombie. And you know where to find me when you do.” 

Tagged:  @t-a-i-l-o-r-m-a-d-e​  @miss--moose​  @marrypuffsstuff​  @harryscarolinaa​  @igorsbby​​  @foji2000​​  @mschfavngz​​  @artaxerxesthegreat​​  @thxmagic​​  @strawberriesandknives​​  @xealia​​  @hotmessindisguise​​  @acciomaximoff​  @reheated-coffee​​  @shelby-x​​  @perseny-blog​​  @millie-753​​  @luneerius​​  @shizzybarnaclee​​  @lettherebelovex​​  @throughparisallthroughrome​  @ietss​  @thebookwormlife​  @mechanicalanimalz​  @mariamermaid​  @nqbmf​  @caliban-is-my-girl  @music-movies  @luquincy  @olivia-west-allen  @drrramaaaqweeen​  @roxytheimmortal​ Struck through wouldn’t tag 

#caliban #caliban imagine #caliban x reader #faking it #caos #chilling adventures of sabrina

[krillin-fanfic]

Revelations

Here we go, my humble submission for K18 Day 2020! The prompt was “Relationship Reveal”*, I believe, so I went with a version of how I think it might have unfolded.   If you prefer to read it on the fic sites, here’s the links:  https://archiveofourown.org/works/12092562/chapters/64659265  https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12652303/15/The-Chestnut-Festival And now, on with the show! 

The first time they told someone, it was an accident. 

Krillin and 18 had been visiting Chi-Chi and her boys that day. It'd been nothing unusual for them; 18 had long ago gotten over her shyness around the other woman due to Krillin's insistence he spend time helping her with her home and her son and 18's reluctance to be left alone anywhere within fifty feet of the old man and the pig. (And being honest? Most humans were just dull or annoyed her) and thus 18 found herself typically in the company of the woman she'd only really known as "Goku's wife". Much to 18's surprise, she was quite outgoing... and surprisingly forgiving of the whole "an evil doctor kidnapped me and turned me into a cyborg to kill your husband" thing. She'd even started inviting 18 to come visit her even without Krillin and had come to greatly enjoy her company. In fact, 18 found herself considering the rather friendly-but-feisty woman to be one of the only two friends she really had. 

A loud whoop and a giggling taunt could be heard from the side yard, and she smiled. The two kids Chi-Chi had certainly didn't hurt, either.18 had been apprehensive around the older boy, Gohan, at first; between not being the most sociable of people and the strangeness of the little bookworm being able to crush a monster as powerful as Cell, one couldn't exactly blame her. But over the past year, she'd found him to be quite friendly and accepting of her, a trait, Krillin had told her, he inherited from his father. 18 found herself enjoying spending time with the lad too, listening along with Krillin and his mother as the boy would ramble on and on about some fascinating new factoid he'd rad, or playing baseball with the boy outside. (She noted with pride that, despite the boy's fearsome strength and blinding speed, he could still never manage to hit her changeup.) 

A tiny squeak and a yawn emanated from the tiny, spiky-haired bundle in 18's arms caught her attention. 18 remembered the day they'd gone to visit after little Goten had been born and being petrified. Being around a kid was something she was just getting used to, but a baby? 18 had been stiff and standoffish for nearly that whole night. And for Chi-Chi to actually ask her to hold him barely a week later? Babies were loud, smelly, delicate, and uncomfortable, there was no way she'd even consider it! 

Until finally, one day, out of necessity... she caved. Chi-Chi had been trying to juggle cooking and caring for a fussy baby, and 18 being unwilling to see this much struggling, took the baby for a moment. And she immediately fell in love with the little bundle. The poofy hair, the tiny hands and feet, that adorable smile and giggle... The little Saiyan had 18 enamored with him in no time flat, and whenever Chi-Chi or Gohan weren't holding him, it seemed 18 or Krillin were. She smiled at the little one as he smacked his lips and drifted back to sleep. 

"You really are so good with him." 18 looked up to see Chi-Chi with a tray of steaming hot tea, smiling. "I haven't seen him sleep this soundly in a little while. He seems to find you quite comforting." 

18 couldn't help but allow herself an amused smirk at the irony. "He's a good little guy," she replied. "Almost hard to believe he's such a loud ball of energy when he's awake." 

Chi-Chi set down her tray and chuckled, taking a seat on the sofa next to her. "He's very much like his father that way." 18 handed the baby over to her and she kissed his forehead gently before laying him in the rocking bed by her feet. "I tell you, that man would sleep like a baby, dead to the world, calm and peaceful as can be. Then the next thing ya know, he's up and bouncing around and eating anything I didn't nail down to the table." She sweatdropped. "That was when I learned wax fruit was a no-no on the decoratin' front." 

18 blew on her cup of tea and raised a brow. "He ate wax fruit Did he not stop when he realized?" 

Chi-Chi picked up her cup and chuckled. "Nope. Just complained they were bitter. Told him it was wax fruit and he said not to pick fruit from the wax trees anymore." She smiled. "But then every morning, it was right over to little Gohan's crib. He was joined at the hip to that baby, I swear." 

18 sipped her tea and smiled. "Had him wrapped around his finger, huh?" 

"Oh gosh, you got no idea, hon. When Gohan was born, he was fascinated by him. Sometimes he'd just sit there staring at him like he was trying to figure him out. But before long, he was holding him constantly, taking naps with him..." her eyes widened "and I can't tell you how many times I had ta stop him from tryin' to share his food with him long before he was ready. Those were some hair-raising moments, I can tell you that." 

Her face softened again. "Even when he'd go trainin' though, he always stayed closer to home, and started taking Gohan on trips with him so he could study the wildlife in the area while he did his workout." She put down her tea and smiled at her sleeping infant. "I'm sure he'd be the same way with Goten too. He wasn't always the best traditional father, but my Goku was a good papa." 

18 traced the rim of her cup with a finger and smiled. "Sounds like it to me. I know my Krillin can be the same way. Absolutely loves kids, especially your boys."  

Chi-Chi raised a brow for a moment, shocked. "O-oh!" she grinned. " Yes! He's been a very big help with Gohan. Can't think of anyone I'd rather have as a role model, ahaha!" 

Now it was 18's turn to raise a brow as she sipped nervously. "Hmm." 

"Jeez, kid, did you really have to throw the ball that hard? I think my hand might be numb for like a week." 

The ladies glanced over in the direction of the opening front door to see Krillin enter the house, shirt and pants covered in grass stains, with an apologetic Gohan in tow, carrying a now-deflated football. 

"I'm sorry, Krillin! Is your hand ok?"

Krillin laughed. "Yeah, I'm fine, relax." He held up a finger. "Your next assignment though: work on your control. Can't be tossing balls so hard they break in people's hands." He looked at Chi-Chi and 18 and smiled. "Sorry we took so long out there. Time kinda got away from us."

Chi-Chi waved her hand dismissively. "Oh, you're fine. We were just having a little girl talk, and I was just about to start making lunch anyhow." She gestured toward the sleeping bundle at her feet. "Gohan, would you please take your brother to his bed and get cleaned up? Seems he's out for the long haul."

"Sure thing, mom." Gohan gently scooped up his baby brother and started down the short hallway as Krillin took a seat on the arm of the sofa by 18.

Chi-Chi smoothed her dress. "Now then," she grinned at the two, "is there anything you'd like to tell me?"

Krillin scratched his head in bewilderment. "Uh... you mean about Gohan? Well, he's at that age, so we did sort of have a puberty talk, but-"

Chi-Chi giggled ."I mean about you two, sillies!" She looked at 18. "I mean, how long have you two been a couple and you didn't even tell me?!"

18 visibly tensed but her face remained set in stone. "I'm sorry... what are you talking abo-"

"Ah-ah! Nope!" Chi-Chi held up a finger. "No playing dumb with me, miss! I'd been wondering for a little while now. The looks you two shoot each other," she gestured at their seating arrangement. "The way you always have to be close to each other." She winked at 18. "And just now you called him your Krillin. That's not something that 'just happens' when talking about a friend."

Krillin's jaw dropped a little as 18's face flushed a deep red. He put a hand on 18's shoulder. "18... babe, did you tell her?"

18, still tense and red-faced, nodded slowly. "Y-yeah. So what? Maybe I'm just tired of pretending, huh? Maybe I wanna talk to my only other friend about stuff too..."

Krillin hopped off the couch and kneeled in front of her. "Nono, hon, you don't have to defend that decision to me. We discussed this, 'member? Whenever you're ready, right?" 18 nodded and he smiled, his own face flushing as well.

"Uhm... Chi-Chi," he turned to her. "Please, can you just... keep this between us for now? Please." He took 18's hand in his and she gripped it tightly. "18's never really had much privacy in her life, and she was super worried about people trying to pry and being nosy... we agreed to keep this a secret until she was ready to tell people herself. So please, especially not Bulma. You know how she can be..."

Chi-Chi put both hands up. "Oh, of course, of course! I completely understand. Secret's safe with me, honest." She shifted forward and rested her chin in her hand. "But uh... how long? When did it happen?"

"A few weeks ago..." 18 spoke up, finally shifting her gaze from the floor to her friend again, cheeks still red. "We... we were stargazing on the roof when the old man was gone. Like we usually do, and... I dunno what it was, but something just felt different. Like... I felt really happy, y'know? And.. weirdly safe. Like there was nothing in the world that could have touched me in that moment." 18 smiled softly. "And he... told me I looked really pretty in the moonlight. In this way that felt so sincere and honest... I asked to hear it again. And again. And then..."

"She kissed me," Krillin interrupted, a big dopey grin on his face. "Ow!" he rubbed his shoulder where 18 slugged him. "What?"

"Don't interrupt, goon." 18 scowled, but there was a playfulness to her eyes that betrayed her.

"Apologies, miss. I shan't interrupt again." he kissed her hand softly, and 18 blushed even harder, hiding her face behind a shirt sleeve.

Chi-Chi squealed. "Oh my gosh, you two are just too adorable!" She planted a hand on both their shoulders. "Congratulations, you two! Honestly, it was about time you finally pulled the trigger on this. I think I knew before either of you did." She laughed as the two nervously looked away.

"H-how?"

Chi-Chi smirked slyly. "Well it's not as if Krillin kept his feelings a secret, I've known him for years and his emotions are easy to read as a book. But you..." she shook a finger at 18. "You took a bit longer, but it wasn't hard to see he was more than just a friend to you. I'd say it was probably around the time you started asking me to teach you how to cook that I knew for sure." She winked. "These boys are all the same, the way to the heart is through the stomach."

As if on cue, Krillin's stomach growled and 18 chuckled. "Well it was either that or give him food poisoning, I suppose."

Chi-Chi stood and pumped a fist. "Right! Well, I better get lunch going. Gohan's no doubt close to done cleaning up, and I'm sure he'll be starved too." She cast a side-eye at 18. "Be glad you're not cooking for Saiyans, dear. Lemme tell you, it's a full-time job."

She trotted to the kitchen, pulled out a big pot, and started filling it with water, sparing the occasional glance up to see the two lovebirds in their own little world, holding hands, talking happily, and stealing the occasional kiss. She smiled. 'They look so happy.'

18 gripped Krillin's hand just a tiny bit tighter The initial nerves had subsided. She was glad she'd told, to be honest, and happier still that Chi-Chi agreed to keep it a secret, but there was still that lingering sense of paranoia she couldn't quite shake. Her privacy and autonomy were things she highly valued, and the idea of certain people prying and wanting to grill her for information on her personal life still scared her. But...

She smiled.

But now she had Krillin. Her Krillin. Her best friend, her support... and now more.

And somehow, she knew, everything would be alright.

#K18Day20 #Chestnutfest20 #K18 #Krillin #Android18 #Kruirin #Juuhachigou #Android Eighteen #Lazuli #Dragon Ball #Dragon Ball Z #Dragon Ball Super #DB #DBZ #DBS #Dragonball #Dragonball Z

[dreaming-of-assclass]

ohohoho i would love for you to do all the 3-e students for the character ask.... but for now sugino and kimura???

UwU my boys <3

Sugino

First impression: It’s so funny that you specifically gave me these two. Back when I first got into AssClass, I mixed them up constantly 😂 Yeahhh I didn’t pay much attention to him sadly.

Impression now: Sugino is my baby. I love him. I stan him. I would kill for him. I made an oc to be his best friend. I just adore him so much. He randomly will consume my thoughts out of nowhere.

Favorite moment: When he tells his old teammates that he really just wanted to show off his new friends eye- 🥺

Idea for a story: I really wanna write something where he and Gakushuu can be friends. Also a story where Nagisa calls him out on being a simp.

Unpopular opinion: This has changed recently, I’ve noticed. But for a while, Sugino was either ignored or always delegated to being the “straight man.” And I just-he’s so fun and chaotic lmao.

Favorite relationship: Ok technically neither of these are really shown in canon, but I’m a sucker for his dynamic with Karma, and Kayano. Also shoutout to the dumbass athletes UwU.

Favorite headcanon: Gosh I have so many...ok one of them, I just really like the general idea of him pulling out his baseball bat out of nowhere whenever he feels scared. Like it’s a running gag and everyone is like “Where did you get that??!!” And another, I love love love Sugino with kids, as a sibling or babysitter.

Kimura

First impression: I barely knew who he was. No lie. I could hardly pick him out from the cast 😭

Impression now: I loveeee him, this short chaotic gremlin who uses his name to make edgy jokes. Kimura is so much fun, and I love to make fun of him hahaha. He’s one of my fav characters.

Favorite moment: Probably when his dumb ass decided to parkour after school. Like it was annoying and I felt bad for the kids who didn’t do anything wrong, but this helped prove the headcanon of him being a chuuni lmfao.

Idea for a story: I would love to go in-depth with his relationship with his dad and home-life, why he chose to become a cop anyways, etc. A funny crack story would just be a compilation of times where he unintentionally steals Maehara’s dates from him.

Unpopular opinion: Eh I don’t blame the fandom for him being underrated. There’s barely canon substance, in fact my take on him could be considered a headcanon itself.

Favorite relationship: Okano!! Honorable mention to Group 1 and the Terasaka squad though

Favorite headcanon: He’s a very dedicated athlete, takes running seriously, trains hard...but he can also be the laziest student lmao. One time he made Isogai fill out a paper for him because he found it “boring.”

Ask game!

#assclass #assassination classsroom #ansatsu kyoushitsu #ask game #tomohito sugino #justice kimura

[arsonistslut]

Chapter 15: A false truth

Meanwhile, Jeff lay awake in his hospital bed. He didn't even properly feel angry anymore, or sad, or..anything. He just felt numb. He was getting a hair transplant, but the doctors wouldn't be able to perform proper plastic surgery until a good year or so, so natural healing of his wounds was the only viable option. His parents hadn't visited once, so he had only the staff to keep him company. Whenever one of the nurses came to change his bandages, as was procedure, he could see the look of pity in her eyes. His burns were horrific to look at, he assumed, but not once did he ask to see his own face.

When they put him under for his hair transplant, the demon, apparently calling itself "Zalgo" when asked, had returned to that space they'd talked in before. The same dark corner, red swelling around Zalgo's presence like a plague. Last time Jeff was here with the demon, he took it's hand and pledged bloodshed upon the world..but now he was second-guessing his decision.

"...How do you know Liu hates me, Zal? I mean..he could be in therapy, for all I know! He doesn't hate me, he can't..I'm his brother.."

"He sure is getting therapy.."

Zalgo reached toward one of the walls and swiped over it, opening a sort of..one way window to the sight of Liu and Natalie, gazing at the stars together, Nat running her fingers through Liu's hair as he curled up in her arms like a cat.

"He's forgotten about you, Jeff..remarkably quickly. Another thing.."

Jeff then saw into earlier in the day. Liu was talking to Randy, the kid that set him on fire, and apologized to him. Did it all mean nothing to him...? Did all the times they helped each other, the bond they had, the fact that his brother was rotting in a hospital and was going to be for a year mean nothing to him?

"A reminder, Jeffrey..he's doing this on purpose. They all do, all the couples at school that see a lonesome soul like you with nobody to go to prom with, your family that irrationally hates everything you do and paints you as a monster, the police who arrested you, mocked you for your disorder, they think it's funny. This world hates people like you, and it won't stop beating you down until you're dead."

Chapter 16: Fresh meat

Keith smirked as he saw the new girl with the black-and-red stockings pass him by in the locker. Nina Hopkins, another transfer from 9th grade. She was what you would call the "alt-girl", and if the rumors were true, had similar issues that Jeff kid had. Keith taps his friend Troy's shoulder, and the two follow her as she heads outside to eat her lunch.

"Hey! Where ya goin', anorexic?"

Nina turned to look at the boys who followed her outside, sighing as she ignored them and muttered to herself.

"Same shit as before.."

"What is it, Jeff? You finally got that sex change?"

"Jeff? who's Jeff?"

"Oh, right, that's your 'dead name'. Sorry, nInA!"

Randy saw the two outside, approaching and looking at the situation. At this point, Troy and Keith were hardly people he wanted to associate with anymore. He didn't want to bully people anymore, to hurt anyone else with these two dopes.

"C'mon, you two. We've got bigger fish to fry."

"What? We're just..introducing her to the neighborhood."

"We're going."

"You her boyfriend or something?"

Randy approached Keith, looming over the ginger with a subdued anger in his eyes.

"Maybe I should beat your fucking ass, Keith. Teach you your fair share of respect."

When his "friend" stepped back in surprise and fear, Ellsworth couldn't help but feel just a little bit satisfied with himself. Damn, that felt good.

"Alright, I'm coming..Jesus."

When the three left, Nina, who was just..caught up in all of this, looked on in confusion as she took a bite out of her sandwich.

"Sheesh..who is this Jeff kid, anyway? Heh, maybe I could buy some drugs or something off of him."

She joked to herself, the rest of school carrying on without incident.

Chapter 17: Breaking away

It was the same walk home as usual. The same cool air, the same autumn leaves flowing through the wind, the same desolate suburbia that New Orleans had become. Liu passed the Wallace Street sign that signaled the closeness of his house, his hands interlocked with Natalie's. He was about to cross the train tracks, but then he heard a familiar voice behind him.

"Liu fuckin' Woods. How the hell've you been, little man?"

Keith Winchester. Alone. With a baseball bat.

"This is the same street your brother attacked me on. Poetic, ain't it?"

Liu felt that he wasn't gonna get out of this without violence, but he didn't expect this kid, who from what he remembered hearing, had a pretty cushy life, was going to try and attack him and Nat, of all people with a baseball bat. It was metal, too, so he had to have gotten it from his dad or something. Natalie was more annoyed than frightened, however, and began walking toward the bully.

"Oh, you think you're-"

What came next horrified Liu; the awful sound of aluminum striking flesh full force rang out as Keith bashed her upside the head with his weapon. Liu's conscious quickly gave way to let Sully in, and he charged at Keith, who raised the bat above his head to strike Liu down as well, but a hard punch to the gut quickly doubled the boy over. Sully quickly followed up by grabbing Keith's ears and headbutting him, knocking him to thee ground in a daze. Liu felt like he was outside of his own body, just..watching it all unfold. Sully grabbed the baseball bat and struck Keith in the ribs, then again in the shoulder, again to his ribs. A strike to his ankle came next, causing Keith to cry out in pain louder than before. Sully then heard the loud bells of a train arriving and grabbed Keith's leg, grabbing him and then throwing him down against the tracks, placing a foot against his back so he couldn't escape. The train grew closer and closer, the panic of the situation began slowly rushing back to Liu, as Natalie's voice called out to him;

"LIU, NO!!"

Suddenly, Liu regained control, and before the train could kill Keith, he pulled him out of the way of the speeding train, the shock on his face mirroring his. Keith limped away as Natalie rushed over to Liu's side.

"Liu, what the hell was that?! You nearly killed him!"

"I-I don't know, I just..s-snapped!"

"...I've never seen you that..angry, before..that scared me, Liu. It's like..you were a different person."

"I...I guess it was.."

"C'mon, I'll be fine. He hits hard, goddamn it..you got an ice pack or something?"

Liu grabbed an ice pack from his backpack and gently pressed it up to his girlfriend's face, half of him internally cursing himself for not killing that Keith motherfucker for hitting Natalie, and the other just happy that this whole event was over and done with.

3 days passed, and Keith hadn't gotten any better. He could tell Randy was about to split, and Troy..Troy was as dopey as he usually was, that relentless apathy toward all the cruelty and the violence, it was disturbing at times. Still, Keith had agreed to drive the three out to this junkyard he frequented, helped him separate from the outside world. They'd decided that a couple of good-for-nothing cars in an abandoned junkyard would be the perfect tourniquets for their frustrations, and Keith's father played lots of baseball, so they had weapons to use in such..venting. Troy and Randy were having a fair bit of fun there, making crude jokes and smashing old cars to pieces, but Keith was busy letting out all of the frustration, the anger he had for the Woods brothers and what they'd done to him. The car he was smashing apart was nearly about to collapse on it's own as Winchester screamed curse word after curse word, striking the derelict with hit after hit. Once he was finished, he noticed the two other teenagers looking at him. Troy looked amazed at what his friend did, whilst Randy just seemed...concerned.

"Are..are you alright, dude?"

"No, I'm not alright!! Jeff, Liu, those two fucks have been on my mind ever since the shit with the forest happened! Everybody thinks I'm a fucking weakling, thanks to those two! Well, news flash, I am NOT a weakling!!"

"Keith, we'll get those two eventually, alright? They've hurt you, and that means they hurt all of us. Nobody hurts us."

"Right..they're the bigger fish you mentioned when you pussied out over that Nina girl, right?"

"I didn't pussy out, Keith! We need to get after those shitters and not after some weird 17 year old!"

"You..You lie through your teeth, don't you?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You left your journal in my car, Randall. I decided to pore through it, and what do I find? Page after page of you whining about us, saying you want me and Troy gone from your life! We were friends!"

"People change, Keith, and I changed. A-After that fire, I realized that it was wrong..all of it was wrong! This bullying shit, it isn't okay! We're making other people feel like shit for our own enjoyment, that's sick!"

Randy let out an exasperated sigh as he sat on the roof of a car, clasping his hands together as he searched for the sort of words he thought could properly express how he's changed. Maybe his story would..resonate with Keith. Troy let out a small chuckle as he laid on a car hood and watched the drama unfold.

"I've never been the best with expressing myself, Keith. People would get mad at me when I said some shit that pissed them off, I didn't have a goddamn clue as to how I was supposed to talk to people. That's why I started all of this, why I started bullying people. People didn't really like me, but it was for a reason I could understand for once! But, now..after I lit Jeff on fire, it just doesn't seem worth it anymore."

"Oh, that's why?! You can't fucking talk right?! Randy, I've gotten arrested for you, you know that?! I took the fall for you for those vandalism charges when we set that old shed on fire, and was because you apparently had a fucking speech impediment."

"Keith, calm down-"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!"

Randy just shook his head as Keith stormed away, snatching his baseball bat out of Randy's hands. Troy soon got up and followed, looking Ellsworth dead in the eyes as he passed him.

"You suck some off, y'know that?"

"And you swallow, prick."

Once Keith and Troy left, Randy smiled to himself, something he hadn't done ever since the incident. It was like a giant weight had been lifted from his chest, so after taking in the bliss of being free of those two, he stood up and began heading home. He'd finally broken away from those two.

#creepypasta #liu woods #jeffery woods #jeff the killer #sully #tw so much bad shit happens that i cant even list it

[rankdisasster]

thick as thieves

“I am going to give you angst because... let’s face it, we love it. two and five.” requested by @fortheloveofhargrove​

#2: “Close the door.”

#5: “Why are you helping me?” from dialogue prompts

warning(s): swearing

a/n: takes place in California, starting as Billy being a dickish 15 y/o. it goes on from there, you’ll know when there’s a little time skip. enjoy:)

—

“Jesus, what’s it gonna take to get you to stop squirming?”

“You are about to stick a needle in my ear, I think I’m allowed to be a little nervous. Won’tchu just cut me some slack, alright?” Billy snaps back at you, no doubt getting wound up because of the risk he’s taking doing this.

Billy has his arms tightly grasped around a throw pillow he stole from the couch, bracing himself for the upcoming pain of doom. His eyes have been squeezed shut as you take the melting ice cube between your fingers and delicately hold it up behind his earlobe. You’ve yet to even puncture him with the needle and he’s already sweating buckets. The teenage boy had asked you to hurry up and get it over with three times already, not even helping you out the slightest bit by staying still while bossing you around either. Typically, your role being the ‘smart one’ in your long lasting friendship would assign you the task of talking him out of wanting to do a foolish thing like this. On one hand, he had plenty of safer alternatives as opposed to going to you, an amateur, for getting the accessory punched in to his ear.

This ever changing dynamic of your platonic relationship had been set aside by the boy since you two started high school this year. He stopped taking the bus with you to and from school since his temperamental father started giving him lessons on how to drive. Another petty example of pretending he didn’t even know you was saying nothing when he passed by you in the halls, or stopped ringing you late at night when he needed help studying or just to talk. Other small things had added up to you barely hearing from him unless he wanted something from you; in this case, a free piercing job. It was hard to deny, but you’d refused to confess how your heart jumped at the opportunity of spending an evening with him again just like old times.

Unsurprisingly, the teenage boy didn’t bother making small talk about his day or giving you virtually any clue about the trouble he had been up to during these recent weeks ghosting you. Of course Billy didn’t care much for what you had to say either, he only wanted one thing and one thing only.

“Stop being a brat for five seconds, then I’ll cut you some slack,” you bite back. He’d rolled his eyes then gasped harshly at the sight of you picking up the freshly cleaned and heated needle from the coffee table. “Want me to count to three or surprise you?”

“Uh, surprise me.”

“Kay. What is this even for, anyway? Last I checked this one’s the gay ear,” you snort, watching him freeze up and widen his anxious blue eyes.

“Wait, WHAT!” he howled in a panic, giving you the perfect opportunity to stick the sharp end right through the lobe, watching him cringe and practically catch flies with his wide open mouth. “Ow, fuck!”

“You told me you wanted it to be a surprise,” you smugly point out, wiping your hands on a napkin after finishing the favor. He sends you a glare at your trickery before getting up and going to the mirror that hangs in your living room.

“Hell yeah. Not too shabby, Y/N. Thanks,” he smirks at his reflection, scoping out the brand new element to his ‘cool guy’ image. Not taking his eyes off his appearance, the boy continues fiddling with his hair and turning his head at different angles to inspect the fresh hole in his lobe. You’ve sat back and crossed your arms, rolling your eyes so far back at his disgusting vanity. He might as well be humping and kissing the mirror right in your own damn house. After getting noticed by all of the popular pretty girls and patted on the back by all the designated cool guys, he thinks his dick grew over ten feet in size or something, and you’ve been downgraded on his list of priorities.

Being the best of buds since elementary school, Billy’s had your back along every step of the way growing up. You’d write all the answers to tests on his forearm for him, he’d keep all the bullies away from you. Each of you would take turns sharing lunch every week. His favorite thing to gobble up at any given chance was your squeezable applesauce, and your favorite snack coming from his lunchbox was always string cheese. There was barely ever a moment you’d be seen without each other.

Middle school went by in a flash of painful and awkward moments, but despite all the friends he made in Little League Baseball, he for some reason still stuck around with you. Maybe you couldn’t do the same sleepovers like you used to as pre-pubescent children, but he’d still give you your favorite string cheese and hugged you tight whenever you wore a frown.

Now, both in your freshman year of high school, things weren’t as easily labeled as black or white. There were cliques and expectations that Billy abided by, and you just didn’t fit in with any of that. Instead of letting you down easy, it was more of a hurtful shock the day he decided to ditch you at lunch for the girls that had been eyeballing him during gym class. Now, not only did he try his best to bury your friendship somewhere deep and never touch it again, you’d went great lengths to avoid any confrontation with him or his posse.

That all just went to shit for the first time today, when he approached you about said earring. You didn’t know how to say no, and you weren’t sure you could if you tried.

“Okay, Kiefer Sutherland, you got what you asked. Why the hell would you want some douchey hanging earring anyway? That a new trend or somethin’ I don’t know about?” you ask, not hiding your judgement the slightest bit. He throws his denim jacket over his bare shoulder exposed from the muscle tee he’d been wearing, then gives you a cheeky grin before answering.

“Sammy Anderson from bio said it’d look good on me. You know her, brunette with the legs. She thinks it’s pretty gnarly,” he nods his head back and forth, sucking his bottom lip with his teeth before not long after snapping out of whatever daze he had been in.

“Since when did you even give a shit what people thought looked good on you?”

“Since they started actually telling me,” he shrugs, not caring how pathetic it may be that he went through all this trouble just for one off-hand comment some girl from class made. You hide your scoff with a forced laugh, walking passed him and bumping shoulders on your way to the kitchen. Billy furrows his brows at your attitude and the diss, following you to where you’ve been preparing a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios for yourself.

“‘S the matter with you, huh? I thought you wanted to hang out again,” he asks, confused by the conflicting mixed signals you’d been sending. You chomp on your Cheerios and take your time swallowing the satisfying bite before looking up at him.

“I never said that.”

“Well, correct me if I’m wrong, but who called whose house every night then turned into a jealous bummer as soon as one of them started making better friends?” he asks rhetorically, petting his chin and pretending like it’s some thought provoking question. You can’t believe the audacity he had calling you a jealous bummer when he left you for good without batting an eye at the loss of friendship. Your chair screeched as it dragged on the floor when you stood up out of it, keeping your bowl in your arms before showing him the door. You nod your head towards the exit wordlessly as Billy stubbornly stays put, not through with his point yet.

“Well, Kiefer, this bummer is asking you to leave. I got you your stupid fucking earring like I promised, and let’s hope you know how to keep it from getting infected, otherwise I’m done listening to you and your new inflated ego.” you finished, ending your speech with a slurp of the milk from your cereal bowl, waiting for him to take himself out. Billy calls it a day, shaking his head and saying more pussy accusations under his breath before making it to the door, stopping to invade your space.

“This better not be in the fuckin’ gay ear, or you’ll be hearing from me again, just so you know—“

And with that, you slammed the door in his face and locked it before sauntering back to the kitchen, carefree as you pour yourself another bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios.

—

Your freshman year went by without anything to really mark it as a special year. Maybe you met a few new faces, people a year above your grade that were kind enough to show you around and give you a better outlook on what high school could be. Billy only gained more and more followers, becoming the alpha dog at only fifteen years old with eighteen-year-old’s wanting to have him or be him.

With the new earring you’d pierced for him, Sammy Anderson was always seen pawing at him like an annoying house cat, and he’d put on a show most likely just for your eyes in particular. To make you envy the brunette, Billy would strut around the halls he knew you walked through like a catwalk, hoping you’d see and think he was all that. Sammy, for some reason, couldn’t pass any ninth grade classes although she was a junior, she still shared a few periods with a freshman Billy. She was shameless about riding the fifteen-year-old’s dick, and had been made aware of you being the prime target for where and when they show their public displays of affection.

You really could give a shit about the drama he put you through anymore. Yeah, it really hurt having someone you stood by a good chunk of your life leave, but there was nothing you could do about it. Other than just find your place and where you belong on the food chain of high school, which wasn’t much to brag about. You had your humble few friends that were loyal and been told about your past with Billy Hargrove. They couldn’t believe with your personality and his transformation that you’d ever been affiliated with him in the first place, and honestly you couldn’t believe it either.

Sophomore year was starting now, and it was getting to be the season for those annoying high school dances that every movie or book goes on and on about. Less than thrilled but obligated to attend, the dance was in full swing when you’d arrived in your outfit of choice. Dressing up wasn’t ideal, but you’d made somewhat of an effort trying to be presentable for the expectations that these gatherings hold. After finding your group and huddling close together, you’d excused yourself for a bathroom break and walked down the empty and eerily quiet hall to the restrooms. You had no idea what you were in for when you stepped on someone’s foot that was completely covered by the dark.

“Christ! The fuck is your problem, huh?” the all too familiar voice had shouted in anger before the sound of runny sniffling followed. He pulled the foot you had stepped on further away so that you couldn’t do it again and cursed again under his breath. Of course, it was none other than your long lost bestest friend Billy.

“Jeez, sorry. Not my fault you’re sitting in the fuckin’ darkness,” you defend yourself, still terrified by the disadvantage you have being unable to see a goddamn thing. As if God himself had been listening to your thoughts, a dim light turned on and illuminated parts of the hallway, as well as a disheveled and evidently heartbroken Billy curled up on the floor, holding onto his knees. The tux he wore had been loosened, and his hair looked like he’d ran his fingers through it one too many times out of stress. He looked like a fucked up mess.

Just as you were staring him up and down, a stuttered exhale had fallen from the boy’s lungs as his hands desperately scrubbed at his watery eyes. It didn’t take a degree in psychology or whatever the fuck else to gather what’s going on here.

You approached him cautiously, as gentle as approaching a frightened deer, knowing how deeply sensitive and guarded Billy is at all times. The walls he’d built while playing the role of California’s resident fuckboy. You’d seen him cry only a handful of times, and that was mostly when you were kids and had excuses to cry about everything. Kid cut him in line, or made fun of the design on his lunchbox. Basic things that children often cry at, but you’d remembered the one night you saw him fall apart right in front of you the night his mom had fled without a trace. All the questions Billy and even you had about her whereabouts were still unanswered, but that never got brought up again after the breakdown he’d suffered through while huddled up in your arms. The poor thing was was so confused, not even knowing if his mom had kicked the bucket or just wanted the fuck away from her husband, even if that meant leaving her son.

Point is, it was always a rollercoaster when Billy got emotional, and you just so happened to walk right into him while he was in the middle of one of his fits.

“Oh. It’s you,” the teen grumbled, obviously disappointed at you being the one to catch him having an episode in the dark hallway outside the school’s dance.

“Hey, uh... What’s going on here?”

“I’m a fucking idiot who should know better is what’s going on. That’s exactly what you wanna hear though, isn’t it?” he hisses, dark and twisted as he fails to hide the runny nose and tears spurting down his cheeks. Immedietely forgetting all the shit you both went through freshman year, you bowed down to his level and sat by where he layed dejected and despondent on the ground.

“Not exactly what I wanna hear,” you murmur, looking at him before touching his arm with apprehension. When he didn’t shoo away from your grasp, you thanked God that Billy didn’t snap at you and tell you to piss off. You’d been pleasantly surprised at that moment when instead he leaned further into your touch, covering his face with his palm as he sniffles in misery.

“I see you put a new earring in, pretty kickass. Bet the ladies love it,” you admire the cheesy new gothic pendant that dangles from his ears. Anything to get his mind off of what’s troubling him will count as a win in your book.

“What ladies, you mean Sammy Anderson? She just dumped my ass in there and started dancing with some other white trash asshole. Figures,” he takes a red and white box out of the pocket of his suit and you notice that it’s Marlboro Red cigarettes. You weren’t in the loop of what he’d been up to since starting high school, but smoking seemed to be new. He lights it up and puffs on it like a natural, like he’d been doing that his entire life, and it’s a sad picture for you to see. The snot bleeding from his nostrils hasn’t quit, and you snatch a back up tissue from your bag and hand it over without thinking twice. The broken boy looks from the tissue then back to you a couple times before taking it and blowing his nose. When he dunks it in the trash can and makes it in, you cheer him on and give a lighthearted high five. After the brief moment of silliness is over, Billy looks over to you with bewilderment in his eyes.

“Why are you helping me?”

“People grow apart all the time, Billy. It’s the most natural thing in the world. That doesn’t mean I can’t care for your well being,” you reason, biting your tongue to keep from saying anything more that you may regret in the long run.

“Uh, yeah. Guess you’re right. I care about your like... well being and stuff too,” he mumbles, taking another drag of nicotine before offering you a hit.

You shake your head and hold up your hand.

“No thanks. I came here to use the restroom is all,” you move to get up from the floor before Billy is quick to join you.

“Yeah, go ahead. Just one thing real quick, I wanted to say sorry. All the shit I pulled last year wasn’t cool at all. But I’m always here for you too, yeah?” he confirms, gazing into your eyes making you freeze on the spot.

“It’s alright. I’m about to piss myself right now though, so I’m gonna go,” you chuckle, pointing towards the ladies restroom. The boy is quick to laugh with you, urging you to do your business.

“Wait, Y/N,” he calls out, standing at the end of the hall by the entrance to where the dance is still being held.

“Yeah?” you shout back, bladder close to giving out as you stand by to watch Billy fumble from the end of the hall before hushing:

“You look really beautiful tonight. Whoever you’re with is lucky as hell.”

—

Junior year comes, and you and Billy haven’t properly spoken since the dance when you’d caught him crying in the dark and accidently stepped on his foot.

He hadn’t calmed down on his ruthless antics, but they’re not directed towards antagonizing you, so that’s a plus. You had accepted that he just wasn’t apart of the path you’d been on and you weren’t apart of his. How the circle of life goes, or whatever.

Billy had found himself yet another new beau, Ashley something, her last name had escaped your mind. He’d still been just as obnoxious with his frequent PDA tendencies at school and elsewhere. You had shared a class with her last year, so you know at least this time she’s his age, but you don’t know anything deeper than that. He wouldn’t ignore you when you passed by each other in the halls, giving you a pointed look and a little wave, which you returned every time. Unbeknownst to you, his group that ruled the whole school always wondered how the hell he even knew you and why he’d never forgot to acknowledge you if he saw you anywhere. The blomde would just tell them to keep their fucking noses from his business and never mess with you or any of your friends.

On this night, for the first time in three years, Billy had invited you to come over, insisting actually. Over the phone he made it clear he wasn’t taking no for an answer. He chewed on his fingernails while anxiously chainsmoking, his leg tapping up and down so fast it might as well fall off. He’d been waiting for your arrival the last fifteen minutes, counting the minutes and even the seconds until you finally show up. It was a hasty knock on his bedroom door that made the boy throw himself out of the chair he’d been seated in and take a deep breath. Temporarily setting his smoke down on the window sill, he raised his voice when telling you to come in.

You’d opened the door and walked in like you’d never been here before. It was difficult for Billy to see, remembering all the days you used to come in and make yourself at home in his room. All the toy cars and dinosaurs he’d collected had disappeared, now replaced with various colognes and mountains of hair gel, as well as more jewelry strung around every surface. You were astonished seeing a set up of heavy weights in the corner too, but you’d neglected to notice him grow bigger and bulkier as he matured.

“Close the door,” he whispers, wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans as your eyes got bigger at the serious tone the boy had used. You softly shut it all the way, unsure about what it is Billy wanted from you this time.

“So uh, you want me to pierce anything else? A nipple maybe?” you joke, trying to ease the unbearable tension that’s making the bedroom seem claustrophobic and stuffy. Billy doesn’t laugh, feeding more into the uneasy feeling stirring in your gut and instead sits on the edge of his bed and pats right next to him, signaling for you to take a seat. You swallow audibly before doing as you were told, crossing your arms and legs on the firm mattress, thinking it’ll somehow soothe how frightened you are of whatever he’s about to tell you.

“You want one?” he offers you another one of his Marlboro’s, this time a blue pack as opposed to the red’s he smoked at the school dance.

“No. I told you I didn’t smoke,” you remind him, which he nods in understanding.

“You don’t mind if I smoke in here though, do you?“

“Fucking A, just tell me what this is all about, Billy! You invite me over for the first time in years and you’re acting real fucking weird, so if you would just... just spit it out already—“

“I’m moving outta California.”

You pause, needing to get a better grip on your rapid beating heart that’s going as fast a drum solo from some rock band tune. Billy stares at you intently, waiting to see what your reaction will be like. When he receives nothing but a gawking expression still smothered on your face, he goes on to give you more details of his departure from California.

“I’m uh, I’m leaving. Overheard my old man talking on the phone, we’ll all be outta here by the end of the month. He wasn’t even planning on telling me until the day of,” Billy explains, his lip trembling up and down at the thought of leaving everything, his home, and especially you behind.

“W-Where?” you choke out, not knowing what the fuck to even say besides spouting the endless questions swarming your mind. Billy looks at you and copies what you did the night of the school dance when he was the one in pain, touching your arm and wrapping it with his palm. He rubs his thumb in circles there for a bit.

“Some shithole town in Indiana,” he answers before going on to the reason why he had invited you here other than just giving you the news. “I um, I wanna ask you to do something,” he stutters, one dramatic tear dropping down a cheek from his right eye as he holds your arm tight as if you’ll flee away if he ever let go.

“Sure, Bill. I’ll do anything,” your hand reaches to cup his cheek to comfort him, learning that touching him when he’s in distress always helps more than it hurts.

“Come with me, please,” he invokes, leaning further into your touch as the bridge he’s spent years building keeping everybody out shatters, leaving him wipe open and terrified of being left alone. Starting all over again his senior year in some dried up small town, without his childhood best friend roaming the same halls as he will. “I’m serious. You’ll... we can do it together. Just like old times, right?” he asks, pulling what looks to be your infamous favorite snack, a cheese stick from his back pocket and handing it over to you, hope in his eyes.

“Are you fucking insane?” you withdrawal from him, not taking the stick of cheese and waiting for the punchline of some sick joke he’s pulling. Billy cannot possibly be serious, his only bribe for you to come with him being some snack he used to give you as a kid. He had the balls to think he could perfectly replace your family and your friends just for his own selfish needs and a stick of cheese.

“No. Right now I’m sure as shit making way more sense that I ever have in the past three goddamn years, Y/N. I fucking love you, and the thought of being away from you is making me fucking sick,” the boy grimaces, wishing he could pull you close to him again but the chance of getting your permission isn’t likely.

“You.... what?”

“I know. But you love me too, I can see that you do.”

“Dude, your shroom dealer is amazing. Wanna hook me up sometime, or—“

“Stop fucking around and be straight with me, okay! There’s no way in hell any of this was friendly from the start, you don’t cheer up your cryin’ ex-best friend on the floor just because you’re some goddamn saint. You did it because that’s love, alright?” he stands up, pointing his finger at you as tears stream freely out of his broken blue eyes.

“This is a joke, right? I gotta be dreaming or something,” you squeeze your eyes shut and try pinching your arm in an attempt to wake up from alternate reality you’re helplessly trapped in. Billy gets down on his knees and grasps both your wrists in his heads, staring at you dead in the eye.

“Sammy Anderson didn’t mean fucking jack to me, okay. Same goes with Ashley, too. You’re it for me. Don’t you understand?”

“No, I don’t. You aren’t supposed to ditch who you love just to chase some tail! You left me, only coming to me if you needed something from me; now you want me to take some big leap of faith for you? After all you’ve done?”

Billy hangs his head in his hands in agony before pacing around the perimeter or his room back and forth. He doesn’t know what else to say, so logic has officially left the building. Now he’s receded to throwing up all his deep secrets hoping it’ll have some affect on you or make you do something, anything.

“Y’know, when I lost my virginity to Sammy in the chick’s bathroom at school... I thought of you the entire time. She didn’t even fuckin’ blink twice after I said your name instead a’ hers, she just kept going—“

You plug your ears, desperate to tune out the boy’s filthy story telling, throwing his own pillow at him to get him to knock it off. He catches it with a stealthy hand, keeping his grip on it as he listens to you whine and moan.

“Aw, c’mon man! we could’ve easily kept discussing this without any of your dirty—“

“Stop it. Stop stalling and give me an answer right here, right now. Tell me if you love me too.”

You scrape your scalp, dreading having this painful conversation, dreading giving him the ugly truth. Once upon a time if he would’ve done this sooner, your answer would’ve been different.

“I... I just can’t keep this up, Billy. I can’t do it anymore. I gave so many parts of myself up for you, but it’s too late now. I won’t throw everything I have here away just so you can use me when I’m convenient, alright? Fucking...” you look up, watching as your childhood best friend crumbles to the floor and hugs the pillow to his chest, eerily similar to the time you pierced his ear for him in the ninth grade. You swiftly sit up off of the bed, going down to his level again, just like the night of the school dance. Getting ready to give him more soothing, encouraging words, something like ‘it’ll be alright’ or a promise of visiting him in the near future, all of that gets ripped away from you when he makes his next move.

Without any warning whatsoever, Billy takes your jaw and smashes his lips to yours, forcefully pressing you further into him. The pillow he’d been clutching had fallen to the ground between the two of you.

This was the last fucking straw, and you’re exhausted to shit now.

You shove him off of you with a hundred percent of your power, wiping his saliva from your mouth with disgust and backing up to the other end of the bedroom, as far away as possible from the weeping boy.

“Stay the fuck off me. And have fun in Indiana, I’m sure you’ll be missed by all your fans at school.”

—

Billy is equally as antsy as he is pissed off when the Hargrove family makes their way to the airport, the boy staring out the window with a permanent worried look in his eye at how he left things with Y/N.

As he boards the plane, giving his younger step sibling Maxine a death glare for the window seat, he holds his gaze out the little window at the clouds surrounding the wing of the plane. When they land in Hawkins, Indiana, he’s still filled to the brim with regret at everything he’d done. He thinks of all the what if’s, like what if he hadn’t cared so much about his reputation, what if he’d kissed you sooner, what if, what if, what fucking if. The list goes on.

“People grow apart all the time, Billy. It’s the most natural thing in the world. That doesn’t mean I can’t care for your well being.”

He’ll hate himself for along time after using you, ignoring you, and ultimately abandoning you at the beginning of the hell that is high school. But that’s just the way it goes for guys like Billy. It could’ve gone the other way, too, such as following him to Indiana and loving him back after all. But that version’s just a figment of his imagination.

—

and then they all lived happily ever after and stuff. what I was trying to pull off was showing a meaningful friendship that started dying out and Billy’s transformation to douchebag was the perfect pitch for it. then for the tables to turn on who wants to be with who in the end was also what I wanted. I’m still working on more prompts and requests and stuff as usual ! thank you for everything:)

#billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove x reader #stranger things #billy hargrove

[stereksecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, @damnfancyscotch!

Happy holidays, dear!  I hope you enjoy this high school AU with enemies to friends to lovers!

Read on AO3

*****

The Economics Project

“Coach, no!” Stiles moaned.  “Don’t do this to me!” “Sorry, Bilinski,” Coach Finstock said, not sounding sorry at all.  “Basketball players need to keep up their good grades.  And since you are one of the smartest students I‘ve got, you’re going to make sure that our star basketball player gets a good grade on his big semester project!  So you and Hale better do an amazing job, or we might lose the championship this year!” “But I don’t want to!  Can‘t I work with Scott again?” “Think of it as expanding your horizons!  You‘re not gonna be working with McCall every day of your life!” Coach said, looking more pumped with every word. Stiles walked out of Finstock‘s office before he could start quoting Independence Day like he usually did.

**********

“I can’t believe I have to be partners with Derek Hale for that stupid project for Coach,” Stiles complained as he slammed down his tray at Scott and his usual lunch table. Scott looked appropriately sympathetic, but his expression quickly devolved into a sappy lovesick smile as his crush Allison Argent walked by. Stiles hit Scott on the shoulder.  “Scotty!  Pay attention!  This is serious, dude!”  Stiles knew he was whining, but he didn’t care.  This was a crisis of utmost importance. “Sorry, dude,” Scott turned his attention back to Stiles.  “You’ll be okay.  You can handle him.” “Of course I can handle him, Scotty,” Stiles rolled his eyes.  “I just don’t want to.”  He glared over at the lunch table where Derek sat. Derek Hale was a junior, just like Stiles and Scott. He sauntered around the school all cocky, like he owned the place, just because he was on the stupid basketball team.  And he was ridiculously popular, though he actually hung out most of the time with Vernon Boyd, Isaac Lahey, and Erica Reyes.  The four of them were sitting at their lunch table like always.  Derek was laughing at something Erica said, throwing his head back in his enthusiasm. Stiles hated him with everything he had.. “I wish Coach let us work on the project together,” he moaned.  “You and me, we work so well together.” “Of course,” Scott chimed in immediately.  “We’re best friends!” “You bet we are!” Stiles grinned, but his smile quickly faded again.  “But who knows how this idiot works?  He’s a jock.  He’s probably not gonna do a thing, and I’ll be stuck doing all the work, and he’ll get a good grade by doing nothing, and it’s all because he plays basketball!” Scott looked sympathetic.  “It’ll be okay, Stiles.” “Who are you stuck with for your project, anyways?” Stiles asked.  “I quit listening after Coach paired me with the wrong person.” “I got Isaac Lahey.” Stiles groaned.  Of course poor Scott was stuck with one of Derek’s cronies.  “This is the worst.”  He pushed his lunch tray away in disgust.  He didn’t even feel like eating his pizza anymore. ********** And that’s why on a Saturday afternoon, Stiles was parking in the driveway at Derek Hale’s house instead of having Scott over for a video game marathon.   Derek’s house was huge and in the preserve.  It was closer to an actual mansion than a regular old house.  Stiles would normally be impressed by such a house, but then he remembered how much he couldn’t stand Derek and went back to being annoyed. Derek’s dad greeted him as he came into the house.  So did Derek’s little sister, Cora, who was a freshman at their school.  His mom was out doing errands. After a few minutes of talking, Derek finally showed himself at the top of the staircase.  He couldn’t even bother to come downstairs.  God, Stiles hated him.  “Come on up here,” he grumbled.  “Let’s get to work.” Stiles ran up the marble staircase and followed Derek into his room.  There were some basketball posters on the wall along with some bands that he apparently liked.  And of course all the trophies that he’d won so far.  Stiles inwardly rolled his eyes. “Jealous?” Derek smirked at him. “Me, jealous?  Never!” Stiles glared at him.  “Let’s just get to work on this stock market report so I can go home.” “Yes, you must have so many more important things to do than this report with me,” Derek glared at him, but pulled out his economics textbook and laptop. The two boys started to work.  Stiles was surprised and rather pleased to see Derek putting in just as much effort as he was into researching, searching the internet and their textbook for information. “Hey, do you think that we should add this stuff about bonds in our presentation?” Stiles mused, flipping through his textbook. “These are not the droids you’re looking for,” Derek said with a deadpan look. Stiles‘ jaw dropped as he stared at Derek in amazement.  “Did you just make a Star Wars reference?” he blurted out. “Yes?” Derek looked confused. “Oh my God, you know Star Wars?  I can’t even talk to Scotty about Star Wars because he’s never seen it.  Can you believe that?”  Stiles was absolutely delighted at this new information about Derek.  It was completely unexpected and kind of awesome.  He and Derek Hale actually had something in common that they could talk about, which he had never in a million years thought would happen.  “He’s not a fan of the Mets, either,” Stiles continued. “Wait, you’re a fan of the Mets?”  Derek looked just as shocked as Stiles imagined that he’d looked just a few moments before.  “You always seem like you hate sports.” “I like baseball, and especially the Mets!” Stiles said.  “My dad and I watch them whenever they’re playing!  And they’re gonna win the World Series this year, I just know it!” Derek actually laughed.  It was kind of a nice laugh.  “Spoken like a true Mets fan,” he grinned.  “Check out this shirt I found!” He got up and went to his closet and rifled through his shirts.  “Ah, here it is!”  He pulled out a blue and orange striped one. “Oh my God, that is so awesome!”  Stiles jumped up and ran over to inspect the shirt.  “Where did you get it?  I need one, too!” “I got it from an online store.  Come on, I’ll show it to you.  We can take a break on research for a little while.”  Derek started typing on his laptop. “Cool,” Stiles said, beaming. ********** From that day on, Stiles and Derek were friends.  First, they started waving to each other in the hallways if they passed by each other.  A week or so later, Derek and his friends started joining Stiles and Scott for lunch.  It was pretty convenient since Scott and Isaac were also partners for the economics project.  And it turned out that Scott and Isaac had become fast friends as well. Their lunch table grew in numbers again as Scott finally drew up the courage to ask Allison Argent out thanks to encouragement from both Stiles and Isaac. Three nights a week, Stiles and Derek would meet up to work on their project, sometimes at Derek’s house, sometimes at Stiles’.  Eventually, they started meeting up to watch the Mets’ games on TV.  Stiles’ dad liked Derek and enjoyed the additional support for the Mets. Stiles and Derek presented their project in class the last week before winter break.  Coach was very pleased with both their report and presentation and gave them both A+s.  “I knew you could do it, boys!” Coach wiped a tear from his eye.  “We’re gonna be number one thanks to you!” The two looked at each other and tried not to laugh out loud. ********** That night, Stiles was sad because he and Derek maybe wouldn’t see each other after school as much anymore.  He came to the sudden realization that he was starting to like Derek.  Really like him.  As in wanting to date him.  The night he realized it, he called Scott over, calling it another crisis. “This isn’t a crisis,” Scott said after Stiles told him how he felt. “Yes, it is!” Stiles wailed.  “Two months ago, I hated the guy.  And now we’re going to his Christmas party this Friday night.  How am I gonna handle it?” “Tell him?” Scott asked.  “I mean, that’s what you bugged me to do about Allison, and I did, and now I’m going out with the most beautiful girl in the school.  Have you seen those dimples of hers?” “Back on track, Scotty!” “Right, right!” Scott laughed.  “But seriously, dude, just tell the guy.  The rest of us have been suspecting you liked him.” “Really?” Stiles felt his cheeks burn.  If Scott noticed something when Allison was around, that meant it had to be overwhelmingly obvious.  “Oh, man, I don’t know if I can do it,” he moaned. “You can do anything, buddy,” Scott gave him an encouraging smile. Stiles grinned at him.  “That’s why you’re my best friend, Scotty!” ********** Soon enough, it was Friday night, and Stiles was at the Christmas party at the Hales’.  Derek greeted him at the door with a hug.  Stiles wanted the hug to go on forever, but Laura, Derek’s older sister who was home from college, pulled him away and started chattering to him about how great it was that Derek had a new friend.  It was fun to talk to her, and a nice excuse to not go confessing things to Derek just yet.  Soon, he was walking around the house, talking to everyone he encountered. “Enjoying yourself?” Stiles jumped and turned around.  Derek was right behind him, grinning that cocky smile of his.  But Stiles was no longer annoyed by it.  It was sort of endearing.  Oh, man, did he have a crush!  “Derek!  Hi!” he said, trying to hide his nervousness. “Come on,” Derek said, beckoning Stiles towards him.  “Laura dug up some games for us all to play together.  They’re in the living room.” Stiles followed Derek towards the living room, but just as they were going through the doorway to their destination, Allison called out, “Wait, stop!” There was giggling from the living room as Stiles and Derek both turned to look at her. “Look up,” she clarified with a wink. They both looked up.  There was a sprig of mistletoe hanging from the doorway.  Stiles definitely hadn’t noticed that before. He looked over at Derek, who was looking definitely uncomfortable.  As much as Stiles was starting to want to maybe try out something with Derek, he didn’t want to do anything to make the other boy unhappy.  “Hey,” he said quietly, “we don’t have to if…” “No!” Derek shouted, then his cheeks reddened as he realized how loud he was.  “I mean, I don’t mind doing it,” he amended softly. “You don’t?” Stiles asked.  “Because I really want to, too.”  He licked his lips, hoping they weren’t too chapped from the cold weather outside. Their lips met under the mistletoe.  Derek’s lips felt warm and moist, and Stiles wasn’t worried about his own lips anymore.  In fact, he wasn’t thinking about anything except Derek and how amazing it was to kiss him.  He vaguely heard some cheering going on, but he wasn’t entirely sure.   It was over way too soon in Stiles’ opinion, but he couldn’t help the broad grin on his face as the two parted.  “That was awesome,” he declared. “Awesome,” Derek echoed, sounded dazed.   Stiles couldn’t believe that he made Derek sound like that.  He was beaming with pride.  But he was also scared that maybe it just was because of the mistletoe, that he wouldn’t get to kiss Derek again. His thoughts were interrupted by Erica coming over and nudging Derek in the side.  “So, are you guys gonna do that again?” she asked coyly. “Erica,” came Boyd’s deep voice. Erica pouted, but walked away from the pair, but not before giving Derek another nudge in the side. Stiles glanced over at Scott, who gave a nod and a thumb’s up to him.  He took a deep breath and decided to just go for it.  Carpe diem and all that.  “Think we might do that again sometime?” he asked, trying for casual and hoping that he succeeded. Derek looked surprised.  “You mean you would want to?” he asked Stiles nodded rapidly.  “God, yes,” he grinned.  “I can’t believe I ever couldn’t stand you, but you are actually pretty amazing and I would totally date you!” The corner of Derek’s mouth quirked up.  “You were pretty annoying yourself,” he said.  “You’re still kind of annoying, actually.” “Hey!” “But it turns out I kinda like annoying,” Derek finished, smirking at him.   “Hmpf!” Stiles pretended to still be annoyed, but inwardly he was jumping up and down.  “I won’t take you to see the new Star Wars movie if you have that kind of attitude.”  But he was too excited and happy to keep pouting, and a big smile burst through. “You bought those tickets for us the day they became available,” Derek pointed out. “Yeah, but now it could be our first official date?” Stiles said hopefully. “Yeah,” Derek murmured, leaning forward to kiss Stiles again. Stiles flung his arms around the other boy and kissed him back with every ounce of happiness and excitement inside him.   “Pay up, boys!” Erica’s gleeful voice burst through the giddy haze in Stiles’ head “You bet on us?” Stiles asked breathlessly once he and Derek finally separated. “Yeah,” Boyd said. “But she cheated!” Isaac said, grumbling as he passed over some money.  “She was encouraging them!” “I would have encouraged them no matter who would win in the pool,” Erica protested.  “They’re perfect together!” Stiles looked over at Derek, who was looking back at him with adoring eyes.  “We are pretty perfect together,” he murmured with a soft smile. ********** While Stiles arrived at school after winter break wearing Derek’s letterman jacket, Coach Finstock liked to boast that it was because of him and his economics project that the two of them had gotten together.

#damnfancyscotch #stereksanta19 #*fics19 #*gifts19

[sonicrainicorn]

In My Life

Part of the Berry Done AU

Words: 10618 Desc.: Patton always lived under the assumption that blood was thicker than water. But if a patient needs type B- you can’t give them A+. So if there’s family that isn’t the blood type you need... why risk a fatal reaction? TW: Transphobia, homophobic language, queer used as a slur, general bullying, suicide (mention), minor character death (mention), brief discussion of sex, bad coming out experiences

///

Patton didn’t remember being an only child. He was two years old when Damien was born and three years old when Alexandria was born. His earliest memories have always been filled with siblings.

Supposedly, when Patton held both his siblings for the first time, he fell in love with them. He didn’t say anything, but he held them close and stared at them like they were the most fascinating things he had ever seen.

And that’s how it had always been.

Patton loved both of his siblings more than anything — he loved his family. By the time he was five, he decided to give as much love to his family as he could. Every day he would say that he loved them. Before leaving for school, he’d hug his parents and give his siblings each a kiss on their foreheads. Alexandria always giggled and babbled at him while Damien made a face as if he was unimpressed with it. (But he’d get mad if Patton tried to leave without giving him one.)

It was normal. Easy. Typical. There was nothing special about his upbringing. He lived a picture-perfect life with a nuclear family. That was the American dream, wasn’t it? That’s what many people tried to achieve. And he had it right from birth. Looking back on it as an adult, he was rather… privileged. He didn’t realize it growing up. Not everyone had a life like he did. Not everyone was as lucky.

That's what his grandma tried to teach him.

"Patton, sometimes things are difficult for other people," she would always say. "You have to stand up for them whenever they need it. Help them when you can. Everyone listens to people like us. Use it for good."

His mom didn't like the way she talked sometimes. He overheard her once, berating her own mother of trying to raise her children to be anarchists.

When he learned what that word meant, he didn't think it was accurate.

He liked his grandma a lot. She was kind and full of lessons and stories. Plus, she was really good at baking. That was a great trait in any grandmother — any person, even.

But sometimes his parents fought with his grandma. Only sometimes. They had arguments about the way she saw the world and the way she tried to teach it to Patton and his siblings. He didn't understand why they couldn't both be right. Parents were always right. And all his grandma ever said was to be nice to people no matter how "strange" they may seem. That seemed right, too.

Still, they didn't get to see their grandma that often.

And it wasn't until middle school that her views on the world started to make sense to Patton.

There was a boy in his grade named Seth. He was shy and didn't have many friends, but he was nice. Patton had two classes with him. He never gave him much thought, though. Not until he saw some other boys picking on him. It was what his dad referred to as "harmless fun", so he didn't say anything at first. He watched from the sidelines as things turned less harmless and less fun. He didn't step in until they pushed him over.

He wasn't much of a fighter. He was a runner. Literally. He was on the cross country team. These boys could snap him in half without breaking a sweat. That didn't stop him from standing in. He was scared and nervous, but he stood between Seth and the other boys. “Leave him alone,” he said in the strongest voice he could muster. “He hasn’t done anything to you.”

The boys were surprised. They looked between each other, unsure of what to do. No one had ever stopped them before. One of them tried to make a move but was halted by the leader. At least, Patton assumed he was the leader. “Sure,” he said, annoyed. “We were done.” Then they left.

Patton didn’t sigh in relief until they were out of sight. All of his limbs were trembling and his heart hammered in his ears. He wasn’t sure what they’d do, but he was glad they were gone. “Are you okay?” He turned to Seth.

Seth stared up at him in shock. “You helped me.”

“Uh, yeah. It looked like you needed it.” He extended a hand.

Seth continued to stare at him. Slowly, he accepted the offer. “Thank you.”

They became friends after that.

It was a gradual thing. After helping him, Patton became more aware of Seth’s presence. He sent him smiles in class, stayed with him after school in the time before practice, stood up for him. Seth was wary of it at first. No one had ever helped him out before. But Patton assured him that he didn’t have an ulterior motive. He was doing it just to be nice, but he didn’t want to overstep any boundaries so he kept it to a minimum.

Seth was rather friendly once passed the anxious and shy walls. He was soft-spoken. Gentle. He avoided confrontation as much as possible. But he had passions. He was a very good artist. He loved animals. He liked hearing stories.

Patton enjoyed his presence. He didn’t understand why other people picked on him. They just didn’t know him.

Maybe the thing was they thought they did.

He heard what his friends said. Their mean whispers based on speculation. Patton was never one for rumors. But everyone thought Seth was odd. A weirdo. A pansy. There were a lot of adjectives thrown around about him that everyone was convinced were fact. The thing about rumors, however, is everyone is convinced their version of the story is correct.

"What?" Patton looked at his friend incredulously.

"Yeah," he nodded. "I heard it from Jaime. He likes guys."

"Well, I like you guys." Sometimes.

"Not like that." Ryan stepped in. "As in like them. Like," he leaned over and made kissy faces at Samson.

"Gross! Get out of here!" He tried to push him back.

Patton rolled his eyes at their shenanigans. He didn’t understand the big deal. His grandma had an old picture of her kissing a girl when she was younger. She put it up in the hallway of her house to make his dad angry. He saw it every time they went over. It was a normal thing.

Still, Patton decided to ask his parents about it.

His dad’s reaction was to be expected. “It’s wrong. Two men shouldn’t be together like that. It isn’t natural. If God wanted two men to be together, he would have made one for Adam.”

“But —” If God didn’t want men to be together, he wouldn’t have made some people that way. And didn’t God make everyone a certain way? Isn’t that what you said? — “Mom?”

Mom sighed softly. She was mending one of Alexandria’s dresses. “Listen to your father, sweetheart.”

~~~

As the cross country season switched over to track and field, Patton and Seth became closer friends. There were still rumors and name-calling, but they tried to ignore it as best as they could. Patton stood up for Seth whenever he needed to. A lot of people started calling Patton things as well. They didn’t understand why he continued to hang out with Seth Summers of all people.

He was a good friend, that’s why.

Recently, he started waiting after school for Patton to finish practice. He said it was so he could do homework in peace and then get a ride home. Patton saw the reasoning in that. He had been to Seth’s house. He knew how chaotic it got with all those siblings.

Turned out Seth was also the oldest. But he had one more sister than Patton did. She was only a few months old, and Seth loved her to death. Besides all the kids, there was also Mrs. Summers and her parents. Patton never asked about Mr. Summers, and Seth never told him. Nevertheless, it was a lot of bodies in a tiny house. It would make sense to want to spend time out of that.

And Patton’s mom liked Seth, so it was no issue taking him home.

It became a routine. Every day after school, Seth would walk with Patton up to the track and then sit in the bleachers and do homework until it was time to leave. Mondays and Wednesdays Alexandria had band practice, so she was always in the car by that time. Tuesdays and Thursdays Damien had baseball practice, so he also had a spot on the car before them. Fridays were the only days where it was just the two of them in the backseat. Sometimes Seth came over on those days.

“Isn’t it weird to be the only boy?” Damien asked as he readied to swing the bat. They were in the backyard since Dad said Damien needed more practice.

“Not really.” Seth was sitting on the porch. “It is what it is. Plus, Marianna is more of a boy than I am. She likes football and getting dirty. All those types of things.” He followed the baseball with his eyes.

Alexandria caught it in her mitt. “Is there anything wrong with that?” She handed it back to Patton.

“No.”

Patton kept the ball in his hand. They had been at this for a while already. He could tell both Alexandria and Damien were getting tired of it.

To prove his point, Damien let out a pitiful sound and slumped his shoulders. “I have a game tomorrow. How long does Dad expect us to do this?”

Alexandria plopped down on the grass to give herself a break from chasing the ball. “We’ve been doing it forever.”

Before Patton could agree and say they should head inside, their dad poked his head out. "Alexandria, if you're going to sit on the ground sit like a lady." She huffed and sat properly. "Why are you using your brother's glove? Let Patton do the catching."

"But I suck at catching," Patton whined.

Damien leaned against his bat. "Yeah, he sucks at catching. Al is a lot better at it."

"Baseball isn't for girls," Dad said pointedly. "Come inside Alex. Let the boys play."

"But I —"

"Now."

Alexandria sighed and threw off the glove. She trudged in the house without looking up at anyone.

"You two,” he pointed between his sons, “start catching."

"But —" Damien tried to interject.

"No buts. The only way to improve is to practice." He went back inside.

"That seemed a little harsh," Seth muttered after a moment.

Damien huffed and picked up his glove from where Alexandria threw it. "Dads are just like that."

Patton frowned at the baseball.

The next week started their routine all over again. Same days. Same things. Except on Thursday, there was a slight break in their established schedule. Patton walked out of the locker room, expecting to see Seth waiting nearby, but that didn't happen. Seth wasn't there.

Surprised, Patton looked all around the building. Nothing. This was a first. Patton decided to go back up to the track to see if he was still there. He didn't know where else to look.

As he walked up, he spotted someone under the bleachers. They seemed about the right size and shape for Seth.

“Hey, what are you doing up here?” Patton ducked under. “My mom’s gonna come by soon.” He wasn’t met with a response. “Seth?”

There was a pause. Then Seth turned to face him, tears rolling down his cheeks.

Patton froze.

"Everyone hates me, Pat.” He wiped his eyes. “They all think I’m weird, or gross or — or whatever it is they say about me.” He put his face in his hands. “No matter what I do it’s never going to change.”

“I…” Patton didn’t know how to respond. “I think it can change.”

Seth dropped his hands, partially glaring at Patton. “That’s easy for you to say. You’re Patton Calon. Everyone loves you. You have a perfect life — you’re perfect.” He slumped to the floor. “Straight A student, star athlete, handsome, funny. You’re great at everything. I don’t understand why you hang out with me.”

“I can’t bake.”

Seth looked up at him. “What?”

“I’m not good at baking.” Patton sat beside him. “It always ends up burnt or tasting weird no matter what I do. And I’m bad at drawing. I don’t know how to read sheet music. I’m not much of a catcher. My handwriting is terrible.” He shrugged. “We’re all bad at something as much as we’re good at other things. And I like hanging out with you. You’re fun, and nice, and interesting. I wouldn’t trade any moment I’ve spent with you for anything else.”

Before Patton could even blink, Seth’s lips crashed into his. His eyes widened and a surprised squeak remained caught in the back of his throat. He didn’t know how to respond. Yet as quickly as it started, it was over. Seth pulled back as a slow realization crossed his face.

“Oh my God,” he uttered in horror. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. It was an accident. I’m sorry. I —”

Patton did the only thing he could think to do to stop Seth’s rambling. He connected their lips together. It was messy and clumsy, but it got its point across. “Come on,” Patton said after. “My mom will be here soon.” He extended a hand to help Seth up.

Seth didn’t do anything other than stare at him. Slowly, he gave a soft smile. “Alright.” He took Patton’s hand.

They didn’t let go until they saw the car.

~~~

One day, there was an incident. 

Patton and Seth walked together into school, as was their habit, and talked between themselves. Ever since their kiss, something shifted. Spending time together was different. Sharing glances was different. Sometimes it felt like they were in their own little world. 

They didn’t notice something was off until they got to Seth’s locker. 

A group of students was around it, whispering — some snickering. Patton made his way through them to help Seth to his own locker. When he got there he stopped in his tracks. Seth crashed into his back at the sudden stop and moved around to see what was wrong. He didn’t show anything but surprise at first.

All of their lockers were light blue. It was one of the school’s colors, so it made sense. But it only made the thick, black marks stand out more. They curled into five messy letters. Harmless on their own, but together they implied something cruel. An assumption. Queer.

At the time, it was still used mostly as an insult. Patton didn’t understand why it was. As a word by itself, it wasn’t very mean or unpleasant sounding. When people gave it a meaning, that’s where all the hate came from. He heard it once in passing. Not to him or anyone he knew, but to a man wearing a dress. He didn’t ask what it meant. The person that said it sounded angry so he assumed it was a bad word. The man didn’t seem upset by it; he just ignored the person and waited for his bus.

His grandma was with him. She was taking him and Damien and Alexandria somewhere. He didn’t remember. He had a feeling if they weren’t there she would have said something. Instead, she grumbled, “Damn hick town.” and kept walking, tugging Damien and Alexandria along a little faster.

“Grams, what’s wrong with wearing a dress?” Alexandria asked before Patton could ask something similar. She was only five.

“Nothing,” Grams responded. “Anyone can wear whatever they want no matter who they are.”

“Even boys in dresses?” Damien questioned in his quiet voice.

“Yes, even them.”

Since then, it was the only time Patton heard the word. But now, here it was written on his friend’s locker. He couldn’t help but remember the way that person said it. Hateful. Full of anger and venom. That’s the way someone wrote it. That’s how they wanted it to be seen. They succeeded.

Seth turned and ran, pushing himself through the crowd. Patton remained frozen for a moment before regaining control of his body and following after him. The kids around them whispered even louder.

He followed him into the restroom, not making it in time to stop one of the stalls from shutting. The bell rang for the start of the school day. Patton ignored it. “Seth?” He gently knocked on the stall door. “Are you okay?”

“I told you,” Seth sobbed. “I told you it wouldn’t change. You’re better off without me.”

“I…” Patton didn’t know what to say. “I like you. I like hanging out with you. You’re — you’re nice.”

“Just go to class. You shouldn’t be late because of me.”

He idled. What was he supposed to do if Seth didn’t want to listen to him? “Um, o-okay, um, I’ll see you later then.” He still hesitated. “I can stay —”

“Don’t.”

Patton winced. “Okay. I-I’ll, um, I’ll go. You know where to find me.”

But Seth didn’t go to find him. He stayed hiding the rest of the day. Somewhere not even Patton could find. And Patton looked everywhere when he found the restroom empty. He was gone. Maybe moving spots like some horrible game of hide-and-seek. Eventually, Patton was forced to give up. He had to go home. If he were given a choice, he would have kept searching.

The next day Seth didn't show up for school. Or the next. Or the next after that. Patton started to wonder what was going on; Seth had never missed so much school before. He was another missed day from going over to his house to see what happened.

He didn't have to.

He walked into school that morning, alone again. He noticed a group of students around his locker. Annoyed and aggravated by the mystery of his friend, Patton pushed through the group without so much as a sorry. He wished he didn't.

In that same black permanent marker was a word. A similar word to the one on Seth's, except this one was… meaner. Patton realized he heard his father say it a few times. Maybe this person heard it the same way. It was ugly from all angles. There wasn’t any way to make it seem innocent. It was obvious this was meant to hurt. It was mean and awful. Not a word kids say unless their parents say it first.

Damn hick town, indeed.

Patton couldn't look away from it. He was sure this would be seared into his brain forever. It looked burned into his locker. He reached out and touched it, swiping his finger along all six letters, but it didn't do a thing. It had dried long ago. There was nothing to do but scrub it off. He didn't want to do that, though. He would rather take the door off its hinges and throw it as far as he could. He'd rather break it to pieces. But he knew if he did that then he'd get into more trouble than the person who wrote the word. So the door stayed where it was. The word stayed where it was. No one said anything.

The bell rang.

That was the thing that snapped Patton out of his trance. He didn't touch his locker. He left to go to class before the other kids even moved.

Class announcements always started in first period at the same exact time every day without fail. Except for today. Today they were late. Not by much, but enough to notice that they were missing. When the familiar sound to begin announcements finally turned on, all the students in class settled down one by one. There was a single announcement made.

Seth Summers passed away yesterday afternoon.

The room went eerily quiet. It didn’t even sound like anyone breathed.

Patton sure as hell didn’t. All the air had been stolen from him like he landed flat on his back. He stared at the empty chair two seats away from him.

The announcement continued, stating rather vaguely that he killed himself. Of course, it was said as politely as such a tragedy can be said. Though it still felt pretty blunt to Patton. He looked for Seth everywhere. He should have stayed with him in the bathroom. He should have decided to go over sooner. He should have done something but instead, he sat around and waited. And now it was too late.

There was a moment of silence to end the announcement. Even when it was over no one uttered a word.

While Patton sat there in the tense, blanket of quiet, he promised that he would never let this happen again to anyone. If he didn’t make this promise, he’d fear it would happen again. He felt it was up to him to stop it. He didn’t want anyone he cared about reaching their breaking point. Whether it meant standing up for them or talking them off the edge, he’d do it. Whatever it took.

~~~

When Alexandria was thirteen she told Patton she had an issue. And Patton, being her older brother, seemed like the best person to go to. Well, other than Grams. Grams was always the number one choice for the siblings whenever the option arose. But they hadn't seen her recently so she went to Patton.

She walked into his room while he was doing homework. Before he could even acknowledge her, she started speaking, "Do you ever feel like… your clothes are wrong?"

Patton stared at her. She was twisting the end of her shirt in her hands, avoiding his gaze while her cheeks turned bright red. "Uh, what do you mean by that?"

"I-I just mean like — like you don't think they're right. There's something wrong with… how they look."

"I can't say that I know the feeling." Patton set his pencil down. He could finish later. "I rather like my clothes. I think they suit me."

"Y-yeah, well, um, that's the thing. I… I don't…" She balled her shirt in her hands. "I don't think my clothes suit me."

"I'm sure Mom will take you shopping."

She cringed at that. "I don't like going shopping with Mom. She only picks out what she wants me to wear."

"Well, Dad doesn't like shopping at all."

"And even if he did, he'd probably choose whatever he thinks I should be wearing."

Patton frowned a bit. "We could ask Grams."

"I feel like maybe she'd be the only one to get it." She dropped her shirt. "I-I'll ask her when we see her." She turned to leave.

"Alex, wait."

She hesitantly turned back to him.

He could tell something was off, but he couldn't place what. Alexandria was normally an eccentric person; she wasn't a wallflower by any means. She liked being loud and went in with a hundred percent confidence with everything. She goofed off, often causing mischief with Damien, and loved with every inch of her heart. "Is that really all you wanted to say?"

"No, but…" She hesitated again before taking a seat on his bed. “I don’t know if this will make any sense to you. I-it’s not only that my clothes look wrong, it’s that — it’s like they don’t fit right, either.”

Patton sat beside her. “Why don’t they?”

“I don’t know.” She hugged her knees. “It's like they’re too small. It's uncomfortable and I hate it, but everyone else is acting like it's normal. I want to wear something that I fit in. Something that feels right. But everyone — Mom, Dad — they're all handing me clothes too small and forcing me to wear them. They're shoving it in my face and I — I just —” She buried her face in her knees. “I just want to be normal.”

He didn’t know what to say for a moment. He had no idea what she was going through. “Let’s talk to Grams.” He stood up.

She looked up at him in surprise. “What?”

“We both know she has all the answers all the time. Let’s go see her.”

“But, but  Mom —”

“She’s not here.”

That was true. She searched for another excuse. “W-well, you don’t even have a license.”

“Well, I know how to drive.”

“Isn’t that illegal?”

“Not if you don’t get caught.” He mussed up her hair, pushing some strands in her face. “C’mon. There’s only so much time Dad can handle pretending to pick out groceries.” He pulled her to her feet.

She didn’t have anymore protests as he took her down the stairs. Damien was by the kitchen with his hand in a box of Cheez-It crackers. “What are you guys up to?” He took out a handful of tasty orange squares.

“We’re gonna see Grams,” Patton answered, already opening the door.

Damien tossed the box back on the dining table. “And you weren’t going to tell me? Unbelievable.” He followed them out and offered some of his Cheez-Its to Alexandria.

~~~

No one could make a choice for Alexandria. They could only present her with options. It wasn’t anyone’s decision but her own.

Once he chose what to do it became rather hard to switch over.

Not that no one tried — they did. But once you know someone one way for nearly fourteen years, it’s hard to break a habit. Still, they tried. Damien, Patton, and Grams. They were the only ones he told. There was no one else he trusted as much as them. Which was heartwarming, really, but that was only three people out of everyone he knew. He didn’t even trust his friends enough to tell them.

In a town like this, it wasn’t too far off to assume everyone would be against it.

But despite that, he seemed happy to finally have a name to put to what he felt. He wasn't alone. There were other people like him.

Grams, predictably, was a big help. She didn't have an answer at first — hadn't had experience with it before — but she worked tirelessly to figure one out. Both she and Alexandria spent a lot of time together doing research. (Most of it behind parents' backs.) It meant a lot to Alexandria to have someone help him out through all the confusion. Patton and Damien were always there, but they didn't partake in any research. They felt odd doing it. Like they were intruding somehow.

Which made sense when Grams — Rosie Picani — came out to them as agender.

Looking through all the answers made her realize that not everyone felt the way that she did. What she was had a different name. In her case, it wasn't that the clothes fit wrong, it was that she was tailoring them herself the whole time and assumed everyone did the same. Apparently, it was never too late to discover new things about yourself.

With identities out of the way, there was still an issue of what to be called. In Alexandria's case anyway. Grams was fine with still being Rosie. She was fine with still being referred to as "she" — it wasn't as if she had much of a preference to begin with. But Alexandria wasn't sure if he wanted to keep his name. Not that he was called that every day or anything. Normally it was Alex. Sometimes Al in the case of Patton and Damien. He was only ever called Alexandria when he was in trouble.

"Names can be special," Grams said once. Their parents were there so she kept it vague. Played it off like some old-age wisdom. "Every one has a meaning. Some grand. Some small. But we have them for a reason. Perhaps you can say there are certain names we were always meant to have. Whether we choose them or not.”

And, once again, no one could make the choice for Alexandria. It was up to him to decide.

So as much as Patton wanted to be an overbearing older brother, he wouldn’t. Or rather, he couldn’t. It wasn’t his life to live — it wouldn’t be right to step in. He and Damien had been in the background every step of the way, and they would continue to do so. They were only there for support — not to meddle.

When he came into Patton’s room one day, telling him his preferred name, Patton just smiled. He messed with his hair the same way he always did, and said, “Sure thing, Emile.”

After that, Patton thought it would be over. Everything was settled, wasn’t it? Yes, there were accidents — slips of the tongue that were difficult to overcome — but soon everything locked into place. That should have been the end, right? Emile with his proper name and pronouns. A happy ending.

It wasn't that simple.

Many years later, a month before Patton left for college, he heard shouting down the hall. Angered shouting. He ended the call with his friend and opened his door. The shouting hit him full force. It was his dad. That shouldn't have been surprising to him. Whenever there was yelling, most of the time it was his dad.

He followed it to Damien's room but didn't walk in. He stayed next to the doorway. Out of sight, but still able to hear. If there was one thing he learned from all his years, it was to never interrupt Dad while he was in the middle of a rant. No matter how horrible it was.

"You are my daughter. Start acting like it."

Damien tried to protest.

"Don't defend her. You shouldn't even be lending her your clothes, anyway."

Patton waited. He let his dad scream at his little brothers without stepping in. Without saying a word. He waited until his dad left. He didn't talk to him. They both pretended the other wasn't there. Only when he was down the stairs did Patton look into the room. Damien scowled at the ground. Emile tried not to let his tears go. He didn't succeed. He threw himself at Damien and cried into his shoulder. Damien hugged him without a word. He spotted Patton, giving him a glare that said, "Why didn't you do anything?"

But Patton didn't have a response. All he could think was that he'd be leaving them soon. It wasn't his choice, really. He didn't want to go to a university, but his parents insisted. He tried to tell them that going to a four-year school for an associate's degree was a waste of money, but they didn't listen. They were hoping he'd change his mind about his career choice. They wanted him to do something "better". So, in the middle of being annoyed and wanting to be away from his parents, he chose a school in the farthest state he could get to.

He didn't think about what that might mean for his brothers.

~~~

University life was not at all what Patton was prepared for. Not that he was prepared for much. He was just a dumb country boy from a small town. That's everything he had ever known for eighteen years. Most people there didn't even think about college. But here he was. A new place. A new state.

No family.

At all.

For the first time in his life, he was completely alone. No brothers right down the hall. No parents arguing in the kitchen. No grandmothers a few streets away. He was on his own. He was somewhere where new faces were common and you were lucky to see anyone more than once. He couldn't name everyone he saw. He didn't know what they did or what their parents did or how long they had lived here. He was surrounded by strangers.

It was scary and new, and… he got used to it.

The first few weeks were rough, but once he settled in, he really settled in. This was the type of place he belonged to. New people, new places, new experiences — he had no idea life could be this way. There was so much to do and see, but not enough time to do and see them. He still had to go to school, after all. But he made the most of it. Out of everything. He stayed on top of his classes while also going out with friends every other night. It was the most organized he had ever been in his life.

He met so many people in his first year alone; not all of them remained friends. Now, he didn't want to say he slept around, but… he didn't exactly say no to very many advances. Men, women, both — on occasion. Whoever. Whenever. If they were willing, so was he. Though, he did have a few actual relationships that continued longer than a night (or two). Some didn't last long. Others lasted a while. There was one with a girl that lasted half a year. That was certainly a fun time for both of them. He started to get a bit of a reputation as a playboy, though. Never, in his entire life, did he think that would be applied to him.

He didn't consider himself one. He just enjoyed being with people. He's sure he's fallen in love a little bit with everyone he's ever met. But not everyone was like that. Some people only give their hearts to those they truly love. Patton left a piece of his heart with everyone. Not a lot of people understood that.

Regardless, college life was something he never knew he needed and he rather enjoyed it.

But at the start of his second year, something came up. His phone started to ring in the middle of the night. He opened his eyes to a vaguely familiar room and groped around for his phone so he could shut it up. The bright light blinded him for a moment, but he was able to make out the caller ID.

"Emile?" He stared at it in confusion. The body beside him grumbled and shifted. He finally answered it. "Em? It's already passed midnight." Well, for Patton at least. There was an hour difference between them.

"I-I'm sorry, I just —"

"Are you okay?" He sat up, feeling more awake by the second. "What's wrong?"

He stifled a sob. “I, I tried to make them understand. M-Mom just — she just stood there. She, she didn’t s-say anything to stop Dad. I only wanted them to understand. I c-couldn’t — I-I didn’t want —” He was near hysterics. He kept sabotaging his own sentences and rambling.

“Em. Emi, breathe. What are you talking about? What happened?”

“I came out.”

Patton paused. He didn’t know what to think, or what to say. He’s heard horrible coming out stories before. He never thought he'd hear one from his own brother. "How… where are you? Where's D?"

"I, I'm going to Grams. I'm walking. They — Dad kicked me out. I-I don't know where D is. He must have snuck out before I told them."

Of course. Damien always did have terrible timing. "Just — just stay with Grams, okay? I'll try to be there as soon as possible." He threw the blankets off, startling the person beside him. He needed to start looking for a plane ticket.

~~~

So Patton dropped out.

His parents were disappointed, but he didn’t tell them why when they asked. Or at least, he didn’t tell them the real reason. He made something up. He needed a break or couldn’t handle it or something along those lines — they believed him. He hated how they made him a good liar.

The real reason was for Emile.

Patton caught the soonest flight home he could find. He didn’t tell his parents. He stayed with Grams while they figured out what to do next. Damien stopped by a few times. He didn’t say it, but Patton could tell he was guilty for not being there. Damien and Emile were practically best friends. Patton sometimes joked that they were twins. With only a year separating them, it was hard not to act so similarly. But the one night Emile needed him the most, he wasn’t there.

In the end, they decided that the best thing for Emile was to get him far away. He would stay with Patton in Florida. Unfortunately, his apartment was one bedroom. But there was no way in hell he was letting that stop him. He wasn’t going to let Emile stay in this damn hick town any longer than he had to. He had half a mind to take Damien, too, but he didn’t want to risk anything.

“Will you keep an eye on Damien for me?” Patton asked before they left.

“Of course,” Grams responded with a smile. “I’m his grandmother.”

It was a little over two months later when Damien showed up at Patton’s apartment. Patton wasn’t anticipating him. Neither he nor Grams called. Still, Damien walked in as if he was expected without a word. The only thing he brought with him was his backpack and whatever was in it. He didn’t say anything for the rest of the day. Not until that night. Patton heard him talking to Emile about what happened. He made a joke about their parents not being able to lie about Patton being the favorite now.

Patton didn’t know how to feel about that.

He let them talk between themselves. He didn’t interrupt. He didn’t try to step in. He let them have their moment. When it was late in the night, he decided to check on them. They were fast asleep, curled up on the bed. The only bed. In the only bedroom.

A steady stream of air left Patton’s mouth. “We’re gonna need a bigger place,” he muttered to himself.

So he continued school at a community college — like he originally intended — made friends, started a new job, made more friends, got invited to a party once, and… a cute boy crashed into him. A cute boy with dark eyes like the night sky and faint freckles dancing along his nose.

“S-sorry.” The most gorgeous blush bloomed on his cheeks. “I suppose I didn’t see where I was going.”

Patton grinned, already knowing what he should say next.

~~~

Logan was different.

At first, Patton was planning to just have another fling, which was wrong and a bit unfair, but Logan didn’t show to have any interest in that. At all. And that was fine, of course, Patton wouldn’t force him into anything. But it was a first in a long while.

One of the earliest things he noticed was that Logan was sort of… timid. The same way a kitten is when dropped in a new place. Which is to say, suspicious of everything. Timid was a nice word for it, though. And much like a kitten, trust had to be built up slowly and over time. Patton wanted to be his friend. Except sometimes over-excited puppies and nervous kitties don’t always get along. So Patton made a conscious effort to take notes of what did and did not make Logan nervous when interacting with him.

For example, Logan didn’t like it when someone got too loud. He didn’t say anything about it, (he never did. Not about any of the things Patton noticed bothered him.) and if Patton didn’t pay half as much attention to people as he did, he probably wouldn’t have even realized it. It was a subtle thing. Whenever someone raised their voice — specifically to him — for whatever reason, he made himself smaller. He avoided their gaze. Replied non-verbally. Stayed like a coiled spring until the person diverted their attention elsewhere or relaxed.

He also didn't like being snuck up on. Patton did it once on accident and he was tense throughout the whole interaction.

Over time, Patton got better at avoiding the things Logan didn't like. He couldn't say why he was putting so much effort into this. Most people wouldn't pay as much attention or, because Logan never said anything, just ignore that their actions were harmful. But Patton wasn't doing that. He was trying. Maybe it was because Logan reminded him of someone. Or maybe it was because he saw that Logan was lonely. And maybe, somewhere deep down, Patton was lonely too.

~~~

The brothers had just moved into a new house when Logan came over to study. For as smart as Logan was, he was awful at studying. He didn't do it in a helpful way, and Patton was somewhat convinced he was doing it to torture himself. So Patton offered to help him study more constructively. At first, Logan was hesitant, but he eventually decided that doing it his way for four different classes wasn't going to cut it. Since then, they always studied together before quizzes or exams.

Emile was out at that time, going with a "friend" to the movies. Patton had a slight suspicion that there was a bit more than friendship going on, but he never mentioned it because, well, there was his own issue of giving Logan heart eyes every two seconds. He couldn't confront his brother about romantic feelings when he could barely confront his own.

Regardless, the only ones in the house were Patton, Logan, and Damien. Logan and Damien got along pretty okay for the most part. They were the same age, so they found things in common. One of the things they shared was sarcasm and wit. Their sole interactions were often a combination of the two, much to Patton's simultaneous amusement and dismay.

It wasn't much of a surprise when, seeing that Logan was over, Damien started with their banter right off the bat. Patton tried to shoo him away — studying was meant to happen — but he played the annoying younger brother card and refused to cooperate.

"If he stays he might stand to learn something," Logan quipped, taking out his notebooks. "There's only so much knowledge one can get when their sources are online conspiracy theories instead of going to class."

Damien laid across the armchair with his legs dangling. He studied his nails with interest. "Sorry, I can't hear you over the evidence of the Earth being flat."

"I'm going to pretend those words didn't come out of your mouth."

Much to Patton's surprise, Logan was able to squabble with Damien while retaining information at the same time. He could provide a counterpoint to their argument while giving Patton the definition of a genome in the same breath. It was rather impressive.

After a while, Patton started to tune out their part of the conversation. He caught snippets of things while he worked on transferring his own notes, but nothing that made him feel he had to step in. Until he noticed it. One of Logan's tells for when something is making him uncomfortable. Not wanting to make a big deal of it, Patton sighed, "D, please stop." to make it seem like he was annoyed with his brother.

But it wasn't enough. Like the spiteful booger he is, he continued. Louder. Not shouting, but enough to notice that he raised his voice. Then Logan flinched.

That was it.

"Damien," Patton snapped before he could stop himself.

Damien stopped out of pure surprise. Patton never called him by his full name.

All of the color drained out of Logan's face. He sat rigid and small, staring at the table as if it would come alive at any moment. "I should go." He shot up from the floor.

"Logan, wait —" the door was already closing before Patton could stand up. The room fell to complete silence. He looked at Logan's spot; he didn't take a single thing with him.

"I… I didn't mean to…" Damien seemed appalled by his own actions.

Patton sighed. "We'll talk about it later." He chased after Logan. He moved fast for such tiny legs. "Logan, wait a second."

"I'm going home." Logan's voice wavered with fragile confidence. A little kid who wants to be taken seriously.

"Wait —" on instinct, Patton grabbed his arm. Logan froze, looking up at him with fearful eyes. He immediately let go. "I'm sorry." He never wanted Logan to look at him like that again. "I… Please let me take you home."

Logan avoided his gaze. "I can walk."

Patton frowned. "That's a far distance to walk."

"I've ran it before," he muttered under his breath.

"What?"

"Nothing." He made himself smaller. "I-it's fine. I can walk."

"But —"

"Patton, I really want to be alone right now."

Patton stopped. It looked like he was about to fall apart any second. "Okay. Just — please text me when you get there."

Logan nodded and went on his way.

He let out a steady stream of air through his mouth. He needed to have a talk with his brother about boundaries.

~~~

Logan had a weird relationship with touch. When they first met, Patton noticed that Logan didn't want anyone touching him at any point. But it changed over time. Slowly. It shifted to "touch me and I'll have a panic attack" to "ask first" to "if you touch me while I can't see who you are, I'm going to hit you with my textbook".

It was one of the hardest things for Patton to keep in line. He was a touchy person. He liked hugs, and cuddling, and hand-holding, and… other things. But he held it all back for Logan. (Though, if Damien and Emile got extra bone-crushing hugs, they didn't point it out.) It was even harder when they started dating, yet Patton remained in control of himself.

"He's just so cute," Patton squealed. He was squishing Emile's cheeks to express his emotions. "I just want to kiss him, and squeeze him, and hold him forever."

"Why don't you?" Emile asked as best as he could.

Patton sighed and fell back against the couch, at last releasing Emile from his hold. "I can't. He's not comfortable with that stuff yet."

"Will he ever be?"

"Maybe." He sat up. "He's been getting better at not freaking out when I ask to hold his hand."

Emile made a face. "Is there a reason he's so sensitive to that stuff?"

Patton had a pretty big suspicion of one reason, but he never brought it up. And Logan never mentioned it. So it hung in the air between them, waiting for someone to break their silence on it. "I don't know."

The wheels seemed to be turning in Emile's head, no doubt analyzing every interaction he's ever had with Logan. Before Patton could distract him with something else, he snapped himself out of it. "Oh! I have to get ready." He stood up.

"Ready for what?"

"For his date," Damien chirped in a sing-song tone as he strolled into the kitchen.

Emile's cheeks turned pink. "It's not a date."

Damien snorted.

"With who?" Patton cut in.

"It's not a —" Emile huffed, giving up that fight — "I'm going with Remy."

"Remy? Is that who you've been going on dates with already?"

"Yes — no!" His face continued to get red. “They’re not  — I’ve never —” He covered his face with his hands. "Oh my gosh."

"How is it that, out of all of us, you're the worst liar?" Damien swirled around the bottle of lemonade he took from the fridge.

"I've never needed to. I'm the baby. Everyone believes what I say."

There was no argument there. “None of us should be good liars,” Patton pointed out.

“Says the best liar,” Damien muttered before taking a long sip of lemonade.

Patton’s jaw dropped. An offended noise left his mouth. “I am — I  don’t — I am not the best liar. Emi, tell him I’m not.”

“Well…”

Patton couldn’t help but feel betrayed.

Emile gave him a sheepish smile. “Mom and Dad do still think I’m staying with Grams and that you’re going back to UF.”

Damn.

“Best liar.” Damien lifted his lemonade in a toast before going back to his room. “If anyone can keep up an act for over a year, it’s you.”

Damn.

“Woah, look at the time,” Emile glanced at his bare wrist, “I gotta get ready.” He took off toward his room.

~~~

“I’ll pick you up after work, okay?” Patton said as Logan prepared to leave the car. “Don’t even think about trying to do homework or studying or anything. Free day today.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “Sure.”

“Logan Sanders, I am serious. You deserve a break.”

Logan paused. He turned to Patton with a small smile. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”

Patton watched him go. They were approaching their second year of being together. The longest relationship Patton’s ever had. He didn’t want to mess it up. He liked Logan a lot — more than a lot. Maybe it was the early relationship buzz, but he couldn’t imagine his life without Logan in it. Well, at least everything was going well so far.

Sighing, Patton drove off to work.

After completing his associate’s, he was lucky enough to find a job at one of the nearby animal hospitals. He was happy to be able to work at his dream job. Unfortunately, he had a cat allergy, so he wasn’t allowed to touch any kitties unless there was a shortage of hands. On the bright side, antihistamines existed. Still — more for the hospital’s benefit than Patton’s — he wasn’t allowed to regularly check up on cats. It was a shame. Patton loved cats.

Sometime after lunch, Patton got a call. He had an instant bad feeling enter the pit of his stomach. No one ever called his phone. Sometimes his brothers sent texts, but they never called him. Ever. When he looked at his phone, he saw it wasn’t either of his brothers at all. It was Logan. Luckily, he was between patients, so he answered the call no problem.

He hoped nothing was wrong. “Hello?” He was met with silence. Then there was a soft hiccup. Like he had been crying. “Logan? Are you alright? Is something wrong?”

Logan hung up.

Patton was already moving before he even had time to think through his actions. On his way out, he told a nearby co-worker there was an emergency that needed to be taken care of. He didn’t elaborate. He didn’t wait for questions. He just left. He needed to get to Logan.

A million different things were running through his head at once. Was he hurt? Did something happen to him? Was something happening to him right now? He knew Logan's schedule. He would be between classes at this time. That only opened up possibilities. It didn't ease any of his anxiety at all.

In fact, it increased when he got to campus and realized one thing: he had no idea where Logan was. It was a community college, so it wasn't that big, but a college campus is still a college campus. He could be anywhere. Patton had no idea where to look. There were too many places to hide or be alone — there was a chance Logan wasn't even on campus anymore. God, Patton hoped that wasn't the case. He didn't want to be too late. He couldn't.

He started running, asking a few people if they had seen someone matching Logan's description. No such luck. He must have looked crazy; some random person running around in scrubs asking for a student. But he didn't care. He had to find Logan. He wouldn't leave this damn school without him.

After an eternity, Patton found him. He was sitting in a patch of grass with a girl underneath a tree. She was talking to him, but he didn't seem up for replying. He looked like a mess.

"Logan?"

They both turned to him in alarm. He saw the girl quickly ask Logan questions (to which he nodded to), which led her to stand up and meet Patton halfway. He was kind of confused, but let it play out.

"Um, I don't really know how I should put this," she started. "I, uh, I saw your friend getting harassed earlier. By a man. I didn't recognize him, personally, but I think your friend might have." She shifted from foot to foot. "I called campus security and they said they would take care of it. I've been sitting with him since."

Patton didn’t know how to process that. Who would want to do something like that to Logan? “Thank you, uh…”

“Dahlia.”

“Dahlia,” Patton repeated with a small smile. “It was very nice of you to do those things.”

She mirrored his smile. “I’ll get out of your hair, then. I assume you can take it from here?”

“Yes. Thank you, again.”

She walked back to Logan and handed him a slip of paper. She gave him a smile, eyed Patton one last time, then left with her bag slung over her shoulder.

Patton took a seat beside him. He moved as if he didn’t want to startle a frightened animal. “You doing okay?”

“Fine.” Logan stared at the paper in his hands.

“Did you know him?”

“Just someone I met in class once.”

Patton could tell it was a lie. Logan wasn’t good at lying no matter how hard he tried to be. But Patton didn’t understand why he would need to lie about this. What was the point? He decided not to pry. “Do you want a hug?”

Logan looked up at him in surprise but hesitated to answer. “It’s alright.” He looked back down at the paper.

“I’m only going to ask again because I want a yes or no answer. If you say yes then that’s fine. If you say no, that’s okay too. I’m not inconvenienced by either. I just want you to know that you have a say in this. You shouldn't have to worry about bothering me or giving me an answer you think I want to hear. Give me an honest answer. So I’ll ask again — do you want a hug?”

Logan leaned into his side.

In response, Patton adjusted himself so that his arms could wrap around Logan. He was trembling. Neither of them said anything.

~~~

In the days following the incident, Logan seemed a little… off. Patton didn't mention it — pretended he didn't see how jumpy he had gotten. He figured Logan was still shaken up over it. And that was okay. Logan could take as long as he needed. But it didn't seem to get any better.

They were in his room when it happened. Thomas was out at work so it was just the two of them.

It was such a small thing. It shouldn't have mattered so much. Yet it seemed to be the straw that broke the camel's back.

Logan tipped Patton’s cup of water over. Accidentally. He was getting off the bed and forgot it was on the floor. He was already apologizing and running to get the paper towels before Patton even realized what was happening.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he rushed out as he cleaned the mess. “It was an accident. I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry.”

“I know,” Patton said softly. He didn’t understand why this was making Logan so frazzled. “Logan —”

“Please, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do it.”

Patton moved to the edge of the bed. “Logan —”

“I swear it was an accident. I wouldn’t ever do this on purpose. I’m sorry. Please. I’m so sorry. I ruin everything —”

“Stop, Logan.”

Logan froze.

Patton lowered himself to the floor beside Logan. He made sure his actions could be read clearly. “Logan, honey, it’s okay. I know it was an accident. I wouldn’t ever think you did it on purpose. What’s going on? Are you alright?”

“I…” His eyes shined with unshed tears. “I’m… I was… He… I-I used to be…” He sighed, turning his eyes toward the ground. “I’m a mess, aren’t I? I just screw everything up eventually. Maybe, maybe you’re better off without me.”

Patton’s blood ran cold. He was immediately hit with mean words burned on lockers, crying in the bathroom, searching and searching for someone that wasn’t there. “No!” Before he could stop himself, he grabbed Logan’s hands with his own. He just — he needed a physical reminder that Logan wouldn’t vanish. They were a little cold and wet from cleaning up the water. 

“Please don’t say that. I love being with you. You’re smart and pretty and wonderful. I like seeing your smile, I love being able to make you laugh. I enjoy spending time with you, even if we’re just sitting around doing nothing. There’s nothing more beautiful than the way you look when you’re reading, by the way.” He smiled just thinking about it. “My life has changed in the best ways since I met you. I want to keep having you in it.”

Logan stared at him. “I love you,” he blurted out.

Patton blinked in surprise. Well. That certainly was unexpected.

Realization hit Logan in an instant. He gasped and threw his hands over his mouth, his whole face turning bright red in the process. “Oh my God. I didn’t — I mean I did but —”

Patton couldn’t help but laugh. “I love you, too, bumblebee.”

Logan lowered his hands and gave him a hesitant, relieved smile.

~~~

The day Patton married Logan was the best day of his life. It was a small affair, with neither of them having very many people to invite in the first place, but it was lovely all the same. Patton sent an invitation to his parents — just as an act of goodwill — but it was sent straight back to him without a response. His mother was at least kind enough to send congratulations and “money toward making a family of your own”. It was sort of unfortunate that they wouldn’t be there, but Patton figured it was for the best. He wouldn’t want to subject Logan to his parents’ scrutiny.

But there was one member of his family (besides his brothers) that didn’t turn him down.

“Grams!” Patton pulled her into a hug. It had been so long since he last saw her. “It’s so good to see you.”

She laughed. “The feeling is mutual, my dear. Now,” she pulled herself away with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, “can I finally meet this boy you’ve never been able to stop talking about?”

“I didn’t talk about him that much.”

“Sweetheart, he was in every single letter you sent me from the moment you met him.”

Oh gosh, really? That was a lot, then. “Fine, I’ll get him. Logan!” He walked around the table to drag his husband away from his debate with Damien. Huh. Husband. He liked the sound of that. “Logan, there’s someone I want you to meet.”

“Rosie Picani.” She stuck her hand out before Patton could open his mouth again. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“Likewise.” Logan shook her hand. “Patton’s told me so much about you.”

“Oh, I’m glad to know it went both ways.”

“Stop.” Patton hid his face in his hands. “Oh my gosh.”

"If you don't mind me asking," she directed to Logan after smirking at Patton. "Where is your family?"

Logan grinned. A proper, genuine grin. "Right over there." He motioned to the table where Thomas and his friends were sitting. They were all engaged in an animated conversation, oblivious to the discussion about them. "I grew up with nearly everyone at that table."

Grams smiled. The corner of her eyes crinkled. "What a wonderful family."

Logan's broad grin turned to a shy and bashful smile. "Thank you."

~~~

Patton typically got home at around five o’clock. Sometimes later. Sometimes earlier. It depended on the day. Five o’clock was just the average. Usually, at that time things were settled down in the house. The twins would be in their room playing a game, and Logan would be grading papers or getting started on dinner. Except today, apparently.

When Patton walked through the door, he was greeted with… a sight. Logan had Roman over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and Virgil under his arm like a very disgruntled cat. The living room looked as if someone turned it upside down and shook it.

“Oh, Patton,” Logan said, out of breath. The twins squirmed in his arms. “How was work?”

“It was good,” he responded slowly. “Tried to tell a woman her dog was overweight and she insisted he wasn’t even though he looked like a sausage. You know how it is. Uh, what, um, what went down here? If I may ask?”

“Well —”

“It was Virgil’s fault,” Roman interjected loudly.

“What? No, it wasn’t!” Virgil tried to get out of Logan’s grip. “Roman ruined my project.”

“I did not! It was already ruined before I got there. You’re the one that ruined my project.” He wriggled around.

“Because you did it first!”

They started yelling over each other and tried to break free.

“Okay! Stop, both of you,” Logan snapped. “It happened. Fighting over who did what and when isn’t going to change that. Will it make you feel better if I help both of you recreate your projects exactly how they were?”

“Yes,” they answered grumpily.

“Great.” He set them down. “If you two start fighting again I’m going to find a room far away and throw you both in it and take the key with me. Now go get your projects.”

They raced each other to their room.

“So it was an eventful day?” Patton opened his arms up for a hug. They had been together long enough that he didn’t have to use his words to ask permission. That’s not to say that he stopped asking — he always asked. He just did it a silent way.

“You have no idea,” Logan sighed. He collapsed in Patton’s arms as if he had been waiting for it all day. “Work always gets hectic at the end of the school year. And then the twins started fighting almost as soon as we got home.”

Patton rubbed his back. “Hm. I’ll handle dinner today, then — and cleaning up the living room. You just worry about helping the boys.” He paused. “The project is due tomorrow, isn’t it?”

“Yup.”

“I’ll make breakfast, too.”

Later that night, long after Patton got ready for bed, he poked his head into the living room to see how his three favorite boys were doing. They were fast asleep, two completed projects in front of them. Logan had his back against the couch with Roman and Virgil’s heads in his lap. Roman still had an open glue stick in his hand.

Patton smiled. He was going to have to wake them up so they could sleep in their beds, but at this second, he just took in the sight. He loved them all so much. He always hoped to have a family like this one day. And here it was. He wouldn’t trade it for the world.

~~~

Patton sat at the edge of the tub, messing with the ring on his finger. He ran out of tears a while ago, and yet it still felt like a new round could begin any second. 

The house was so silent. It hadn’t been that way in years. Some days he begged for it to be quiet again. Right now he wanted nothing more than the noise. He wanted to hear Roman and Virgil teasing each other or running around playing a game. He wanted to hear the Doctor Who theme from the living room or Logan berating the twins. But they weren’t here.

He sighed and put his face in his hands.

He messed up.

#it's about damn time #sanders sides #patton sanders #deceit sanders #emile picani #logan sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #sibling prinxiety #logicality #transphobia tw #homophobia tw #suicide tw #minor character death #excessive use of the word damn #like wow #i used it a lot #berry done au

[anicpanic]

So here are some of my headcanons for Lethal League! I just can’t stop thinking about this fandom and creating stories about characters in my head. Also I’m very much into relationships and all those sweet friendly/romantic stuff, hugs, touches and so on, so my canons are mostly about FEELINGS. So yeah, um, I’m kinda sorry in advance?

Here we go!

After tournament Nitro and Latch became buds. They would sometimes gather in Latch’s underwater cabin, drink cider, watch old detective movies and talk. Well, Nitro will talk A LOT and Latch would listen carefully. Latch is observant and Nitro jokes that he would have made a great policeman.

Nitro, being an amazing cop, but at the same time the biggest goofus in the city, has also befriended Grid. He is completely oblivious to the fact that Grid is a part of mafia. They would sometimes go to the gym together and workout haaard for all the muscles to make them both look buffed and impressive! Latch, Nitro and Grid would probably hang out together sometimes.

Grid is very strong and actually quite friendly after some time you know him. He’s also very expressive. When he laughs, he is so happy that he punches Nitro on his shoulder, making ex-officer almost fall down from the strength that Grid wields.

Candyman is terrible with puns, he takes everything literally.

Raptor has very-secret-very-teenager crush on Jet. Switch is not helping. At all. He jokes about bro’s infatuation whenever possible, making baseball child even more aggressive. But he still cares about him. I kinda imagine that their relationship resemble Jake and Finn’s from Adventure Time. Like, they are totally bros and make silly and annoying things to each other, but they care about each other too.

Switch has tried impressing Doombox at least a few times. Doombox is not impressed. Poor Switch will never have any robot friends.

I believe that Toxic is a cocky one. She would challenge Grid to arm wrestle. Although she has super robo-hand, Grid would win, because he’s strong af. He actually thinks Toxic is cute but won’t tell her. Grid finds small woman’s attempts to overpower him quite amusing. Toxic is way better than him in playing ball but for some reasons she’s stubborn to beat the big guy in everything.

Sonata and Candyman are friends! She liked his classy outfit, he loved her music taste, and that’s how their friendship started. Sonata is bold and passionate and she’s okay with Candy’s quirks and weird behavior. She’s the strong and protective one in their relationship. Candyman in his turn is highly interested in Sonata’s diva life, her dashing outfits and he also loves listening to her endless stories about nightclubs, djs and other attributes of a famous persona. They follow each other on instagram.

Candyman can’t drink properly. He is clingy in general and extra clingy when he’s drunk. When drunk he shamelessly calls Latch cute and makes obscene and dubious poses and gestures towards crocodile, which at first made Latch feel super awkward. In fact, Candy always manages to make Latch feel awkward or embarrassed, and Latch finds it terrifying, because he’s a closed type and he’s not the biggest fan of talking about himself or getting that much attention. But he got used to it. At some point and after many Candy’s “assaults” he finds attention acceptable and even to some extent enjoyable.

Nitro likes using the worst cop pick-up lines imaginable, such as “you are under arrest for being too gorgeous, lady!” or “you have a right to go on a date with me”. He’s classy and a bit old-fashioned. But he’s very cool, I believe that he’s such a sweetheart! He’s noble and brave and he has the best manners the man can have. He’s also very bad at flirting and dancing.

Sonata would throw glamorous party for the league’s anniversary in her villa. Everyone is invited, even those who didn’t want to come. Candyman was helping with decorations. After few dances on the dance floor he was challenged by Toxic (right after she tried to overpower mighty Grid in armwrestling) to drink as much punch cups as possible. Candy got drunk after 3d cup. On wiggly legs he managed to crawl towards Latch who was sitting on the couch, and fall on his lap, telling him that he’s cute. Latch would deny and say that Candyman is just drunk, which led them to one of the million extremely awkward and drunk discussions they had, this time about Latch’s “cute features”. (wow that almost sounds like a part from a fanfic)

When they don’t play ball, Raptor and Switch play Fortnite or Overwatch. They also watched Detroit letsplay and Switch over-dramatically agrees with all robo-abuse stuff that happens in the game, saying that this is the actual story of his kind and only thankfully to Markus and Connor he is a free robot now. Raptor does not believe a single word his friend’s saying, but cries at the moment where all androids get freedom nevertheless.

Latch purrs very gently when he’s satisfied. For example when he feels extremely comfy and safe or somebody caresses him (especially his snout). Nobody from the league knows this fact. Once upon a time though, Candyman, being an intrusive boi he is, snuggled Latch when they both were drunk at Sonata’s party and unintentionally derived soft croco-purr.

#long text post #I guess I think about them too much #lethal league #lethal league blaze #llb #headcanons #lethal league headcanons #lethal league thoughts #i love them! #so as you can see I have many ships #like #candy/latch #sonata/nitro #grid/toxic #Idk why but I feel relieved after posting this #that's all for now but I might come up with more!

[treasure7boys]

Fake Love || Haruto

♡♡♡♡

Type: Angst/Fluff

Word Count: 3.1K

Warning: Little bit of cursing

Description: You like Haruto, but your best friend steals him from you

♡♡♡♡

“Okay, wait,” your best friend, Minjung, said, interrupting you. “I want to meet this guy that you're so in love with.”

You blinked. “What?” you asked, suddenly feeling nervous. What if she didn't approve? What if she thought he was ugly or lame? “O-okay, sure. Um, you can come to my cram school session right now to meet him since we don't really meet outside of class.”

She nodded. “Okay, the class sounds awful but at least I don't have to pay attention.”

Meekly, you smiled as you clutched your books closer to your chest, leading the way. Your legs felt like jelly as you walked and your heart was pounding against your chest so fiercely you could hear it ringing in your ears. You scanned your student i.d. as you entered the lecture hall, spotting Haruto. Immediately, you smiled and went over to him.

“Hey, Y/N,” he smiled upon spotting you. You smiled and greeted him back as you sat next to him and Minjung on your right. “Who's this?”

You looked at her and then back at him. “Haruto, this is my best friend, Minjung,” you introduced. “Minjung, this is Haruto.”

“And I'm Jeongwoo!” Jeongwoo exclaimed as he sat down next to Minjung.

Minjung smiled, “It's nice to meet you both. Y/N has told me such wonderful things about you both.”

You smiled, feeling relieved for some reason. She was being very friendly, which made you feel that she approved of Haruto. Eventually, however, you felt that it was more than just approval.

“That movie was so good!” Haruto exclaimed quietly to Minjung, the two talking over you as you tried to do your assignment.

A low grumble left your mouth as you said, “Should we switch spots, Minjung?”

She looked at you. “Could we? That would be great!”

You were in disbelief that she took your offer. You had expected her to apologize and stop talking over you. In the end, however, you switched seats. It was either that or be annoyed the whole class.

“No offense, but they're being annoying as hell,” Jeongwoo quietly said to you.

“They are. I should have never brought her here,” you sighed, running a hand through your hair.

He nodded in agreement. “Especially since she's trying to take your man.”

You looked at him and blinked. “What? What do you mean?”

“I hate to burst your bubble, but she's totally flirting with him,” he confessed.

Shaking your head, you said, “No, not that. Why did you call him my man?”

He sat back in his seat. “Oh, well because you like him, right? I mean, you blush whenever you see him and all you do is smile around him, so I guess I just got the feeling you like him.” There was a short period of silence. “Am I wrong?”

“No, unfortunately you're right.”

Patting your arm, he commented, “Well, if it makes you feel better, I like you way more.”

That made you smile. “Thanks, Jeongwoo,” you said, feeling a little better but not much.

When the session ended, Haruto and Minjung were too caught up in their conversation to realize everyone was leaving. You and Jeongwoo decided to just leave them and go down to the lobby for a soda.

“Finally,” Jeongwoo said when Haruto and Minjung appeared 10 minutes later.

Haruto said, “Sorry, but you should have told us the session was over.”

“You should have been paying attention,” you snapped, feeling bad for doing so.

He was surprised. You had never snapped at him and were almost always happy and smiling around him. “Whatever, I'm tired, so let's go home,” Minjung said. “And I can tell you all about how Haruto and I are going on a date this weekend.”

That caused you to choke on your soda. Jeongwoo rubbed your back as you coughed like crazy. “A date?” Jeongwoo questioned. “You just met.”

She shrugged. “Well, how else will we get to know each other better?”

“We can't go home together, my brother is actually picking me up and we have an errand to run afterwards,” you lied. She seemed upset by that and quickly left.

Jeongwoo looked at you whilst Haruto was in the restroom. “Is your brother really coming?” he asked.

“He wasn't, but I'll call him and he probably will.”

He nodded and then he and Haruto left. You called your brother, Byounggon, and he told you he'd come and get you. “Why didn't you take the bus?” he asked when you got in the car.

“Because Minjung was taking the bus and I really didn't want to be with her,” you confessed, crossing your arms after buckling in.

Pulling away from the sidewalk, he asked, “What happened? You and Minjung are best friends.”

You huffed. “I like this boy, right? I had told Minjung all about him and she told me she wanted to meet him, so I brought her to my cram school and now they're going on a date.”

“That's not nice of her. You clearly told her you liked him, so she knows exactly what she's doing,” he said, feeling upset on your behalf.

You nodded, ready to take a shower and have a good cry.

♡♡♡♡

“You didn't tell me Haruto and Jeongwoo go here!” Minjung exclaimed the next day as she entered your guys’ classroom.

“All for good reason,” you mumbled quietly to yourself. “Yeah, but they're in a different class, so sometimes I forget.”

Then, she started gushing to you about Haruto as if you hadn't done the exact same thing the day before. What the hell was wrong with her? You couldn't believe she would do such a thing to you.

Things only got worse once they actually went on their date. They weren't an official item, but a lot of kids knew about them being a thing. It was hard for you to be around either of them, so you even switched the days and times you went to your cram school. That way, you could avoid Haruto.

Jeongwoo started eating lunch with you because he was unable to stand Minjung. “She's so annoying and never stops talking,” he told you. “Everything she says sounds so artificial and staged.”

You cocked an eyebrow, “Like what?”

“When she talks about sports, it's like she just went online and read the player's stats before memorizing them word for word. With books, it's like she just searched chapter summaries. Stuff like that.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “Minjung hates sports and reading. Why would she talk about it?”

He shrugged. “Well, Haruto likes baseball and she probably saw him reading a book for class or something,” he explained. “Are you telling me she's lying to him?

“I mean, it seems like it. I think she's lying about stuff to make him like her,” you confessed. “I can't believe her.”

“I just don't understand why you're still hanging out with her.”

You sighed. “She's my best friend.”

He snorted. “Is she?” he asked. “She literally stole the guy she knew you like from you. What kind of best friend would do that? Has she ever considered your feelings once? Or does she usually walk all over you like this and use you to get what she wants.”

“I don't want to talk about this anymore,” you told him, so he stopped and you guys started talking about dogs.

After school, you were unfortunate to bump into Haruto. “Hey, can we talk?” he asked.

You sniffled as you tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I'm not really in the mood, Haruto.”

“Why don't you come to cram school anymore?”

Okay, so he wasn't going to let you just leave. “I do, I just don't go to the same session anymore,” you told him.

His eyebrows furrowed. “Oh, okay,” he said. “Why?”

A frustrated sigh escaped your lips. “Can we not talk about this right now?”

Luckily, almost all of the students were either gone or inside, so no one was there to witness any of this. “No. I just don't understand you right now! I thought we were friends but now you've switched cram classes and don't even wave to me in the halls! I don't know what I did!”

“Haruto, I really don't want to fight with you. Just leave me alone, okay?” you asked. You heard a car horn honk and you turned around, seeing Seunghun, Byounggon, and Hyunsuk. “That's my ride, I have to go.”

He shook his head, feeling frustrated, “Fine, be like this then. Just so you know, I liked the old you way more than whoever you are now.”

With that, he stormed off and you sighed as you went to Byounggon's car and got into the back with Hyunsuk. “What was that about?” Seunghun asked, turning in his seat to look at you.

“That's the boy I like but he's kind of dating Minjung,” you told them before explaining the situation to them.

Hyunsuk huffed, “What a bitch. Sorry, Y/N, I know she's supposed to be your best friend, but she literally went after him knowing fully well you like him. No true friend would do that.”

You threw your hands in the air in frustration. “That's what Jeongwoo said! I just, after all this time, cannot believe she'd do this to me. Honestly, looking back at it, she was only using me. I'd tell her the things she wanted to hear just so it would inflate her ego.”

“Well, you said she's lying to him about things, yeah?” Byounggon asked. You nodded in response. “Then maybe you should either confront her or tell him. I'd want to know if the girl I was dating was lying to me.”

Seunghun nodded in agreement, “That would be the true test, too. If he's really a decent guy, he'll leave her and apologize to you. If he doesn't, then he's not worth it. You deserve the best boyfriend in the damn world, Y/N.”

You smiled at his words. “Thanks, guys, you're the best,” you said, glad Byounggon had brought them along. No one could cheer you up as well as the three of them.

♡♡♡♡

“What the hell?” Minjung hissed as she walked over to you at your locker. You shut it and locked it. “Where were you last night? You were supposed to help me study for the quiz and I totally just failed!”

You sighed, trying to remain calm. “I forgot, sorry” you said, although it was evident that you didn't feel bad.

She narrowed her eyes at you. “You know, you've been a real bitch lately, even Haruto said so. Yeah, he told me about your little fight yesterday.”

Kids were starting to notice your argument as you could hear them murmuring about it. “So? I wasn't in my best mood and I accidentally lashed out, I'll apologize to him but I certainly won't apologize to you.”

You brushed passed her before she shouted for you. You turned around and felt something hit the corner of your mouth. It hurt and you looked down to see a book. Touching your mouth, you looked at your fingers and saw blood. Yeah, you were pissed.

“Stop acting like you're all that, Y/N,” she glared.

You weren't taking it anymore. “Me? You shouldn't be talking! You're the one lying to Haruto about who you are!” you shouted. “You don't like sports, reading, or any of that stuff! He likes the person you're pretending to be, not the real you! The real you is a mean person who puts down other people just to lift herself up!”

She realized she was screwed and you could tell. “S-shut up. You don't know what the hell you're talking about.”

“You're only friends with me to inflate your ego. You use the rich girls in our grade for shopping sprees and then use that to make other girls feel bad about themselves. You're a mean person, Minjung, who could never get a real friend unless you acted like you were nice. I thought we were friends, but I've seen the real you.”

You watched her clench her fists. “Shut up! You're just saying this shit because I'm with Haruto and you aren't! You're upset because you're ugly and no boy would ever want you!” she shouted. “They never notice you when you're with me and then act as if they're your best friend when I'm gone! Face it, Y/N, Haruto would have never liked you even if I hadn't met him.”

“Geez, what a bitch,” someone murmured. “She really does put others down for her own benefit.”

Tears welled in your eyes. Minjung knew you were insecure about your looks, especially since you had been teased a lot when you were younger. “Why not add him to the list? I told you I liked him! You knew I did and you still went after him!” you exclaimed. “Face it, Minjung, you can't be happy unless everyone else around you is miserable. You're a toxic person and now everyone knows it.”

You turned on your heels and rushed out of there. Minjung was left alone with the stares of everyone, forced to hear them whisper about what a monster she was. You went into the bathroom and called Byounggon. “Is everything okay?” he asked when he answered.

“Yeah, can you just pick me up? Just say someone's sick or something.”

He came quickly to pick you up, Hyunsuk and Seunghun in tow. You told them everything that happened. They were proud of you for sticking up for yourself but also felt bad about the situation.

“Did she hit you?” Hyunsuk asked, grabbing your chin with his hand and turning your head to get a better look.

Right, your bleeding mouth. “She threw a book at me. I completely forgot,” you confessed. “I'll have to put some ointment on it at home.”

Your mother was certainly confused when you came home so early. When she noticed your injury, she started freaking out. Of course, you had to explain the situation. Later in the afternoon, the school called. Minjung was suspended for a few days for throwing the book, which someone apparently reported. You weren't in any trouble, luckily.

“I'm gonna go get some ice cream,” you announced, slipping your slides on as you went to venture out in your pajamas. Your pajama pants were striped and stopped above your ankles and your shirt was a plain white T-shirt with a cupcake on the front.

Your mother walked over and smoothed your hair down. “Here, it's on me,” she said. She'd been treating you that way since you told her what happened.

A smile painted your face. “Mom, I'm okay, really.”

“Still, she was your best friend for a long time.”

You shrugged. “I feel better now, like a weight was lifted off my shoulders,” you confessed. “But, I'll still take your money.”

She chuckled as she said, “Be safe.”

At the convenience store, you bought some snacks and then an ice cream cone before stepping outside. The night air felt nice. It wasn't cool enough to make you shiver but enough to make you feel refreshed. “Y/N,” a voice said.

You jumped and your heart started pounding but began to calm down when you saw it was Haruto. “W-what are you doing here?” you asked. From what you knew, he didn't live extremely close to you.

“Can we talk?” You nodded and the two of you went to sit on a nearby bench. There was a period of silence as he tried to collect his thoughts while you ate your ice cream and stared at the stars. Then, you text Byounggon about what was going on because you didn't want them to worry when they realized it was taking you longer than usual. “I heard what happened with you and Minjung.”

“I figured it would spread around to you.”

He shook his head. “No, I mean I actually saw it happen,” he explained.

That made you blush. You had talked about liking him and it was embarrassing enough to do so in front of your classmates, but even more so since he had been there. “Oh.”

“I'm sorry about all of this, Y/N. I didn't know about any of that. I didn't know she was lying to me, using you, being mean to others, or that you liked me. If I had, I certainly would have never gone on those dates with her.”

You smiled and looked at him, “It's okay, Haruto, I understand.”

He smiled. “If it's any consolation, I've always liked you more than her. Honestly, it was kind of annoying how much she talked about herself,” he confessed, making you laugh. “Hanging out with you is way better. You're easier to get along with and I'm happier to be with you.”

“Thanks. I like being around you, too.” Then, you remembered something. “I'm sorry for being so short with you yesterday. I was just upset and frustrated and I wasn't exactly keen on hanging out with you.”

Shaking his head, he said, “It's okay, I get it. Just so you know, I never called you a bitch like Minjung said I did.”

That was a relief. “I was really hoping you hadn't,” you chuckled.

“Also, I have a confession to make.” He looked nervous and that made you nervous. Was he going to say they were still dating or something? “I like you, Y/N, just like you like me. When I met Minjung, she asked me on the date, so I thought you didn't like me. I mean, why would she ask me out if you liked me? I guess I was wrong to think that.”

Your heart was beating so much and you thought it was going to burst through your chest any second. You didn't know what to say because, honestly, you were too busy thinking about how handsome Haruto looked even at night. When you didn't say anything, he looked at you. “Can I kiss you?”

Well, it was official, you could finally die of happiness. With a smile on your face and a nod of your head, you quickly added, “Just be careful to not kiss where the book hit.”

He nodded and then slowly began to lean in. Your heart was pounding with anticipation. Finally, his mouth pressed against yours. He was very careful to not kiss your wound, so part of his lips were against your cheek, not that you minded.

You liked how as you kissed, he laced his fingers with yours. It was a sweet and innocent kiss, but you already knew it would be one of many when he pulled away and smiled a goofy yet adorable smile.

#yg #yg entertainment #yg treasure box #ygtb #ygtb imagines #ygtb scenarios #ygtb trainees #treasure a #treasure b #treasure c #treasure j #choi hyunsuk #kim seunghun #lee byounggon #lee byunggon #park jeongwoo #haruto #watanabe haruto #haruto imagines #haruto scenarios #ygtb fic #ygtb series #haruto fic

[iimcgine]

[ MUSE 22 ] ●● is that ALEX FITZALAN? no, that’s just ARTHUR “AJ” FAULKNER JR, the 18 year old CISMALE who is a COLLEGE FRESHMAN. some say they’re LAZY & COCKY, but their family and friends will swear they’re SENSITIVE & LOYAL. when i think of them, i think of a baseball diamond, matted sweaty hair, cleats, a shot glass, a tabloid cover, and a wannabe. i wonder if HIS family knows that HE’S ADDICTED TO PILLS AND DOESNT PLAN ON GETTING CLEAN. ●● ( pain ? )

i’m  hopeless  and  got  over  attached  to  a  muse  before  even  knowing  if  i  could  take  him .  catch  me  at  being  The Worst™ .  here  is  aj  faulkner  (  don’t  call  him  arthur  he  will  never  be  arthur  junior  it  is   just   aj  )  .  he  is  hopeless  in  practically  all  senses  of  the  word ,  but  wasn’t  always  like  that .  pls  just  love  my  messy  son  who  is  too  broken  for  this  world ,  thank  you .  as  always ,  if  you’d  like  to  plot ,  please  press  the  lil  like  down  there  or  react  on  d/scord   &   i’ll  come  plot  with  you !

growing up,  aj was a typical first born.  literally from the get go,  he was just a soft boye who absolutely loved his family.  when ava was born, he was Ultimate big brother. his childhood consisted of not exactly knowing he had famous parents? like despite their popularity, imagine this is aj. 

by age five, he was just too much. like he was so happy and jumpy and full of energy that arthur and isabella put him in every sport or activity they could think of  ––  and hell he loved them all. he also slowly started to understand what his dad did and would tag along as much as possible to set. 

thats another thing too  ––  aj was obsessed with his dad. constantly attached to his hip whenever he got to see him, always used the excuse that he would go to bed when dad went to bed to get to stay up later. oldest boys always idolize their fathers ... right?

still, after trying practically every sport, he found the one. by seven, he’d chosen baseball  &  man oh man was that the kid’s first love. he’d gotten the best education, obviously, but he was already sure as a kid he was going to be a professional baseball player. he spent every day of the week that arthur was home annoying him until he’d play catch for as long as aj could milk it. he talked isabella’s ear off in the car to and from practices and games and tournaments about what he did or what he was gonna do next game.

depression tw for the next few bullets !  it wasn’t until elementary school that it started getting noticeable that his excitement wasn’t constant like it was when he was a kid. baseball started to become a routine thing rather than the happiness it once was for him. he still loved the sport, but when he got in the car after a game, all he did was sleep instead of talk his moms ear off  ––  and when he got home, he immediately went to bed, not even noticing if his dad was home or not. and when he didn’t have baseball? he’d just walk himself into his room. family dinners he wouldn’t talk. he also suffered from constant headaches but it practically took ages for him to tell his parents that. 

it wasn’t a direct switch in character either. over the course of about a year, he’d slowly started to shut himself down and out.

when he was in seventh grade, he finally asked his mom to take him to the doctor (those headaches were getting too bad to fake) and weeks later after the tests came back, he had been diagnosed with depression.

despite him asking his mother not to tell anyone, it was obvious arthur knew as soon as they got home. over the next several months, it was obvious that ava and holland knew as well (he wasnt exactly sure what they knew –– just that something was different)

his high school years consisted in him being constantly reminded to take his medicine (and it was never a bad thing, really. they were his family and they were trying to help him..? right?). he just went to school, played baseball (and actually started enjoying it again), and stayed at home.

he verbally committed to play baseball at ucla as just a junior, & his last two years at home were as normal as they could be. he wasn’t as close to arthur as he was when he was a kid (has a lot to do with idolizing him so much as a kid –– it’s Pain™, my specialty). aj’s self esteem was shot because of how arthur seemed like the perfect person to him. it didnt help that aj wouldn’t talk to him much, ig.

however, only a few months after he started his freshman year of college, his mom died in the car accident. he did his best to stay focused in school, but there was no use. he dropped out in december before the season even started. 

the boy hadn’t had a sip of alcohol until he entered college, and currently can’t make it through the day without at least two drinks. he fucked up his knee his senior year of high school, and got on some pain medicine (that, at the time he refused to take, there might have been complications with his depression meds and he refused to get addicted) well, now that bottle is empty three times over and he’s got another source for that sort of thing.

he’s not really sure why he’s still here? he turned eighteen last month, he could go back to la. despite his fucked up relationship with his father, he’s still got a heart for his sisters.

he didn’t really start getting in the tabloids until he dropped out of college. it was easy to go party when you had friends all throughout hollywood. the distraction from his thoughts and his moms death was really all he wanted. it was only a bonus that it fucked with arthur’s reputation. now, he had all the drugs and alcohol in secret  ––  but hey, special trips out to hollywood for more distractions and to piss his dad off every once in a while was just an extra fuck you.

he lost his best friend in that car accident and he is Not Doing Well, pals

#drugs tw #death tw #car accident tw #addiction tw #depression tw

[sweetdeathwrites]

puppy love

Pairing: Reader / Tsuna / Gokudera / Yamamoto

Summary: There's nothing quite like spending time with friends— especially if you happen to have a little crush on... well, all of them!

Warning: (is this poly??) it’s poly, death by fluff, lots of flirting, warning for a super old fic–– my first on Luna, so oof...! If you think of 2010′s-indulgent-anime-fanfic, nothing here would surprise you, use of the [Name] bracket system....wowza..

Word Count: 1,781

~Dedicated to GuardianAngel07 on Luna!~

(posted from my AO3 and Luna. Original A/N below)

(aaaa~ Luna is up and running! I'm so happy! I've been a fan of this site for many years but I never had the chance to submit anything until now (not to mention how terrible my writing used to be...yikes)... Well, anyway, this is my first post on Luna! Sorry it's short, I'm trying to push myself to write longer pieces soon!! Hope you enjoy! It's been YEARS since I've used [name] blanks for the reader... Usually I just stick to avoiding using names and just stick with gender neutral pronouns (they, them). Since I'm on Luna now, I decided to indulge myself and use all those fun [name] blanks I used to read in fics from middle school~ This is also my first time writing for KHR! It's my favorite anime and I always felt like I would ruin it's legacy if I ever contributed to the fandom... but someone very special helped me change my mind about that... Naturally, I would like to dedicate that person who is very special to me... in fact, she dedicated a fic to me first! I'm just returning her generosity! So here we go— GuardianAngel07 ! I've been such a big fan of you for so long! I'm sure I've told you this through comments MANY times, but you truly inspire me! Not only in writing, but in art and in trying to better myself! I see how you have such big dreams on your Luna profile and I know that you can ABSOLUTELY make them come true! I look forward to the day I see you post an update with your name in the credits of a Disney film! You really mean the world to me and I'm so happy that my comments were able to make you feel happy too! I really hope we can interact again in the future... I have some more KHR fics in the works, one nearly done, that I hope you will read as well! I also have one VERY special one that I used to dream about when I was younger... It was heavily inspired by your It's A Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World fic! But don't worry, I've changed a lot since it was originally planned and I assure you, I've made sure that it goes in a very different direction compared to your fic!! I'm not going to give a lot away at the moment, but I used to daydream (and I still do!) about the events happening in your fic and through the years those daydreams turned into creations of OCs and plot developments based off of the manga and.... I've said too much!! Anyway, I am SO GLAD and GRATEFUL for all you've done for me, not just for the fics, but for all the happiness, inspiration, and hope that I've gotten from them and from your profile! I really hope you enjoy this fic! Haha, I'm so excited~)

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“Hey!” A loud, annoying voice called out to you. You ignored it. “So, Tsu-kun, what’re you doing after school? Wanna go on a date with me? I’ll pay,” you mused, leaning on his desk and playing with the poor boy’s hair in your free hand, “I’ll pay for whatever you want to eat...How’s a salisbury steak sound?” “I-I-” Tsuna started, but was quickly interrupted by his righthand man yanking you away from him. Some of your classmates were paying attention- mostly the girls- but everyone was already used to the shenanigans that seemed to always occur whenever Sawada Tsunayoshi was around. “Get away from Juudaime, you evil succubus!” Gokudera growled in your face. You tutted and cupped his face with a gentle hand. He felt warm and you couldn’t help but admire the way the sun glittered off of his emerald green eyes. You hoped your small classroom’s open window would help to cool his temper. “Aw, fret not, Haya-chan, there’s more than enough of me to go around~” you winked at him and Gokudera dropped you quickly and covered his red face. You landed on the ground more roughly than you would’ve preferred, but you didn’t lose your composure. If you wanted to get anywhere with these boys you would have to try much harder! Smoothing out your now ruffled shirt, you took longer than you needed to in order to make absolutely sure that Tsuna and Gokudera were looking at you. Geez, it’s like these boys have never been flirted with… you thought, then realised Tsuna’s probably never been on the receiving end of a playful compliment. You decided to change that. “Hey, Tsu-kun.” You caught his attention, voice flat with none of the giddiness that you felt leaked through. “Y-Yes?” Tsuna sat stiffly on his chair and his hands were clenched so tightly on his desk that his knuckles were ghostly white. You darted over to him and laced one hand with Tsuna’s and cradled the back of his neck with your other. “Have I ever told you how beautiful your eyes are? You’ve got doe eyes, Tsu-kun, sweet as chocolate.” Your gaze kept his eyes locked on yours and Tsuna let out a strangled whine. “Hey!” Gokudera yelled again, this time noticeably shakier. “I told you not to harass Juudaime!” Turning to glance at Gokudera, you pouted. The silver haired boy still had a hand clasped over his face and, despite his threats, didn’t make a single move to remove you from Tsuna. “I’m not harassing Tsuna!” Your eyes burned holes in Gokudera. “I’m not harassing you, am I, Tsu-kun?” you asked sweetly. Tsuna sputtered a variety words but none of them made cohesive sense or had any relation to each other. “Tsuna’s right, Gokudera,” a small yet commanding voice came from somewhere in the classroom. You looked around but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Just as you were going to turn your attention back to Tsuna, a panel slid open on the classroom wall and a small baby stepped out of it. He wore a suit and tie and a small lizard perched on his hat. “Hey, Reborn,” you greeted him, smiling brightly and not relinquishing your hold on poor Tsuna. Reborn nodded slightly in your direction. “Gokudera, it’s very rude to harass Tsuna’s future spouse. Act as a proper right hand man and devote yourself to their happiness.” “EEH?” Tsuna shrieked and toppled off his chair, landing in a heap on the ground. “Sp-Spouse?” No matter how ruby red a tomato or deep a fiery sunset, nothing could have come even close to comparing to the scarlet blush that burned Tsuna’s cheeks. Even his neck and shaking hands were flushed! “W-What?! But-” “What’s wrong, Gokudera? Would you rather take Tsuna’s future spouse for your own? Then Tsuna could get married to Haru-chan or Kyoko-chan. Or maybe-” “Yo!” Yamamoto burst in the class in full baseball gear. Some girls squealed in delight upon seeing him and you couldn’t blame them. Baseball pants made his butt look fine. Then his mocha eyes settled on you standing over Tsuna and Takeshi’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. “-you would rather Yamamoto to be their husband?” Takeshi walked over to you and swung a muscular arm around your neck and pulled you close; he smelled earthy, sweet, and spicy, just like freshly ground cloves. His white shirt was crumpled and he was hot from baseball practice. Being pulled so close under his arm, you could feel the hard muscles of his stomach and lining his ribcage underneath the thin barrier of cloth. Nice. “Who’s going to get married?” he looked around for any visual cues that could help him piece together this mystery… Tsuna collapsed on the ground, Gokudera rooted to his spot with his face buried in his hands, Reborn dominating the conversation… Everything looked normal to him. “Are we playing a marriage game?” “Yamamoto, would you marry [Name]-chan?” Reborn asked, his coal black eyes as unnerving and omniscient as ever. Yamamoto turned to you examined you thoroughly. His eyes traveled over your soft features and, you noticed, tried to discreetly examine the rest of you. His rough hands held you firmly by the waist. Not that you wanted to get away from him, but now it was nearly impossible to move; if you did, you would end up being dipped, with Yamamoto’s hand at the small of your back and he’d hold your face gently and lean in and- “Of course I’d marry [Name]-chan! Who wouldn’t?” Yamamoto laughed and he sounded like wind chimes on a pleasant summer day. Your heart fluttered like a caged bird at that and you tried to laugh off the light flush that creeped up your neck. Gokudera noticed. “H-Hey, bastard, quit it! Don’t say stupid things like that, baseball freak!” Gokudera lowered his hands to shout at Yamamoto, furious for reasons unknown to him. “Haha, why not? It’s true, isn’t it!” Yamamoto hugged you close and rested his chin atop your head. He hummed happily and you felt it resound deep within your chest. Sunlight dappled the floors and lockers in the back of the room and you felt totally at peace. You could barely hear yourself think over the usual bickering between Gokudera and Yamamoto, but that was just fine. Basking in the moment, you made sure to never forget what was happening right now. You were alive. You were breathing the sweet, crisp air that flowed from your classroom’s open window, surrounded by your classmate’s, in the midst of embarrassing and adoring your beloved friends (and crushes). Joy bubbled in your stomach at the simple pleasure you gained from the moment. Then the moment was over. You spun yourself out of Yamamoto’s embrace and was swiftly blinded by the sun’s glare, being just the right height for the window’s wrath. Yamamoto yelped and caught you- look at that, he was dipping you! Looks like dreams do come true. But you had places to be. “Sorry, Take-kun, but I gotta go!” You winked at him and his mouth twitched in shy grin. Some girls murmured in jealousy, wishing they were in your place, wishing they could make Yamamoto blush the way you could. Your shoes padded across the floor to Tsuna’s still reclined form. Kneeling, you tapped Tsuna on the shoulder. His honey eyes looked up at you and you nearly screamed. What a cutie! Tsuna was nothing but a shy, lovesick puppy and that special side of him made you weak in the knees. “I’ll see you later, baby!” You leaned in and planted an adoring kiss on Tsuna’s cheek. You could feel the heat radiating off of him and he was talking again, unable to stop himself. “[Name]-chan! Oh my god, why did you do that, why would you want to do that to me! I’m No-Good Tsuna! Aah, I can’t believe you did that, I mean, it’s not like that was a bad thing! I’m not complaining! What I mean is why, why, oh my god, that was so- I don’t? I mean-” you giggled at his struggle and kissed his other cheek for good measure. “Don’t worry about it, Tsu-kun! I’ve got so much more in store for you later!” and Tsuna just about died in your arms. You could practically see his ghost coming out of his body. He just melted in your embrace. What a pure guy. “J-Juudaime! You wretch! How dare you wound Juudaime like this! I’ll make you pay!” Gokudera charged at you but you didn’t flinch. In fact, when he came close enough, you reached out and trailed your hand along his neck. Gokudera stopped dead in his tracks at your touch and his breath caught in his chest. “Silly little Haya-chan…” you teased, running your fingers across his jaw, “Think you can beat me? Nothing can beat the power of love, sweetie.” Somehow, Gokudera simultaneously paled and flushed. He nearly swooned at the playful mirth in your eyes when you blew him a kiss. Then he did swoon, falling backwards and scrambling away from you hurriedly. “Y-You devil!” Gokudera clutched his chest, heart undoubtedly beating wildly. “What magic have you cursed me with?!” You laughed and carded your hands through your hair, slightly unsure if you should really announce why you were torturing the three boys so much. ‘Screw it,’ you thought, and opened your mouth to speak. “You know,” you began, “I’m beginning to wonder what magic you three have cursed me with. Don’t you know what you do to me?” And with that, you waltzed out of the classroom, giving a knowing nod to Reborn along the way. The baby smirked and ignored Tsuna’s desperate questioning, Yamamoto’s confused laughs, and Gokudera’s outraged and shaky demands for you to come back and explain yourself. As you passed the threshold of the classroom into your school’s open air hallway, you couldn’t help but glance up at the clear sky and see how clouds floated airily across that wide, blue stretch, how the birds flew and cawed in pursuit of each other. With a bounce in your step and your heart fluttering, you jumped and spun and laughed, happy to have told them. Your mind buzzed with all the borderline-naughty things you could say to them tomorrow.

#sawada tsuna #sawada tsunayoshi #reborn tsuna #khr #reborn #gokudera hayato #gokudera #yamamoto takeshi #reborn yamamoto #reborn fanfic #khr fanfic #katekyo hitman reborn

[imagine-if-we-mixed-it-up]

The Consequences of Making Choices: Pt 1

Fandom: Marvel

Paring: Bucky Barnes x Reader, Uncle!Tony Stark x Reader

Word Count: 2580

Based On: Will be revealed....

Warnings: Mentions of car crash, none otherwise.

Summary: Choices can be tough. And as someone who never got to make many, it’s almost not fair your first one is as big as this. 

THE CONSEQUENCES OF MAKING CHOICES: PT 1

You had always wanted your super suit, and thankfully it seemed like that birthday present came early. Your life had always been sheltered, had always been well tended too. That's how it was being a multi millionaire, with no real say in what you were allowed to say or do. This was it. This was your shot. As the nephew/niece of Tony Stark, you had dreamed that one day you’d be able to fight alongside your uncle. It looked like today that wish was coming true.

“You’ll of course need to go through a couple training lessons, before you fight,” you remember your uncle’s voice as he unveiled the suit. “Rhodes can take of that—”

You don’t remember the rest of his speech. It was all erased by the joyous thought that you were finally allowed to make a difference. From the moment you laid your eyes upon the glistening suit, you knew your life was about to change. Everything about it was magnificent, everything from the complex mechanics that allowed for your sight line to double all the way down to the fact that it was your favorite color. Tony was going to have to get his ears checked after all of your squealing.

Now, you were here. Flying alongside your friends, a few of which you considered family, ready to serve your own justice. If only those whom you had to fight, hadn’t also been your family as well. Your hard E/C eyes drifted over your old friends, and for a brief moment, you felt as if your heart would shatter. All though you didn’t recognize one of them, the rest of team Captain America you knew well. Sam had cheered you up whenever your days became rainy. Hawkeye was almost as much of an uncle to you as Stark had been, if not maybe even more. Wanda was your sister; there was no doubt she still is. Steve had filled the empty older brother figure that was left behind by a burning car. It was soul crushing to see them, your family, all lined up for some man who you’d been told was a murderer. A monster.

You sighed as you watched them pick up pace, jogging ahead in hopes of reaching the jet. You couldn’t lose to focus. Not now. This was your shot at a life outside of sheltered protection, you weren’t going to throw that away. Whether they were family or not.

“They’re not stopping,” it was the boy, Spiderman, who said it. Yes, the battalion of your enemies was not slowing down. You looked to your uncle, but he had already flown far past you.

“Neither are we.”

Slowly your team picked up pace, breaking into a mad sprint to greet the enemy. So this was it, you mused to yourself, trying to spot someone to fight. Very well, let it be.

You swerved to the right as one of Clint’s arrows zipped past you, sailing directly towards Vision. The android conjured his own shield, taking Hawkeye’s shot straight on. Below, you gasped as you watched Wanda send the young spider boy flying, knocked out from a blast of energy. Quickly you dived down, zipping past the action to help the young kid up. “Thanks,” he softly muttered, as he sailed down towards the cars Wanda had begun to throw.

Your goal was simple; you were to help anyone who needed help, and at all costs prevent Captain America and Bucky from escaping.

Another arrow whizzed past your ear, and you sprung into action. “Neutralize,” you commanded, outstretching your hand as a bolt of energy went flying. With a swift swipe your blast disintegrated the arrow, stopping inches away from a brawling Tony and Steve. For a brief second, you swore you saw your uncle smile, that was before Steve socked him in the face.

Again without a partner to spar with, you looked down to see if Hawkeye had somehow been able to lose Vision. He had, but was now involved in a match with Natasha. “We’re still friends right?” you heard Nat banter, and you couldn’t stop a slight grin from inching across your face.

Hawkeye also let a smile slip, “Depends on how hard you hit me.”

You flew away from their little brawl, sure that Natasha would be able to easily handle Clint. If anything, you thought, you should probably be helping that new kid, or even see if you could help Rhodes out fly Sam. You surveyed the field quickly, trying to figure out where you could be most useful. Before you could blast off, however, you were stopped by the sound of grunts below you.

“I didn’t kill your father!” you quickly recognized this man as Bucky. This was the crack that had shattered your only family, had torn them apart. The murderer. The monster. Surveying the field one more time, you decided against your better judgement. You didn’t care that T’challa had called dibs, you wanted a punch in yourself.

“Activate stealth mode,” you commanded softly, and your suit did just that. With now silent jets it was easy to hover down closer, getting a better look at the fight.

T’challa spat at the man, easily overpowering his arm, “Then why did you run?”

You watched as Bucky went for a punch, stopped quickly by Black Panther’s grip. The two fell into a roll, fighting tooth and nail to get the upper hand. Before you could prevent any real chaos, Wanda seemed to beat you to it. She flew T’challa back, slamming him into a jetway. You quickly reactivated your thrusters, an annoyed rumble jumping into your throat.

You awaited for Wanda to turn her back, patiently waiting for the Winter Soldier to stand. And when he did, you made your move. Metal on metal screeched as you torpedoed into his chest, using your new strength to hold back his metal arm. The man let out a grunt as he fell back into the concrete, tumbling to the ground. A fire roared in your chest, your eyes sharpened into daggers.

As he went to stand up, you aimed again, this time making sure not to pull your punch. He was ready though, catching your metal fist as if it was simply a baseball. He glared at you sharply, wrenching your arm around as you smacked into the ground. Despite the hard hit your face took, you lept back up with little time to spare. This was your chance, you weren’t going to waste it.

“Why are you making this so difficult?” you snarled at him, rolling your shoulders forward, “You know what you’ve done.”

Bucky barred his teeth, taking a step forward, “And I have to live with that every day. I know everything I did. But that’s in the past. I don’t even remember that part of me. It’s dead.” With a grunt he wound up his fist, springing forward. You easily dodged the shot, grabbing hold of his free arm.

With a flip you rolled the man to the ground, gritting your teeth, “The past is never dead. It’s not even past.”

Jolting up, Bucky leapt forward, his fist connecting harshly with your jaw. You stumbled back, your head reeling with agony. “William Faulkner,” Bucky spat at you, shaking off his fist, “He was one of the few authors I was able to stand as a kid. How fitting.”

You let out a shriek of sorts, ducking under his next blow, “You are the reason my family is being torn apart!” Before Bucky could even blink, you shot up from your crouch, jamming your head hard into his throat. Taking no chances, you quickly swept your legs under his feet, allowing for him to stammer back. “In my eyes, you are really the only one at fault here.”

“What kind of story is Tony selling you, doll?” Bucky snapped back, his eyes quickly darkening, “I didn’t do anything!”

“Really? Then why are you fighting!” you hissed at him, bringing your leg back for a sharp kick to the nose. Bucky, however, anticipated this, and instead caught your foot mid air. With a flick he easily slammed you down into the ground.

“Don’t you get it?” he growled at you as you tried to stand back up, ignoring your groans, “We’re trying to do the right the thing here! Do you even know what you’re fighting for?”

“I— I know you’re wrong!” all though not your best comeback, it was all that you really had. Furiously you locked gazes with the man, your jaw clenching. His opaque green eyes flashed for a moment, connecting the dots quite simply.

“You don’t know what you’re fighting for,” he had you trapped, “Do you?”

You gritted your teeth, breaking into the most deadly scowl. Here you were, locked in battle, neither of you needing to lay another hand on the other. Despite the roaring from the war next to you, it had seemed as the world had gotten awfully quiet. Silent. Deadly silent.

“No,” you snarled out, a little bit louder then you wished you had, “All I know is we’re the good guys, and you are the bad guys.”

“I hate to break it to you, doll,” Bucky cocked his head towards the battle, an almost growl in his throat, “But that’s not how it is this time.”

A lump began to form in your throat, as you tried to search for the right words to say. Anything really, but no matter how hard you tried nothing seem to come to mind. Why were you fighting your uncle’s fights if you didn’t even know the reason? Were these just more commands you were blindly going to follow? More rules that your uncle had set out for you?

Unbeknownst to you, a slight smirk had slithered across Bucky’s face as he watched you search for an answer. When your eyes did catch note of this, you let out a deep growl. Quickly you smacked that grin off of him, easily socking him in the jaw. He stumbled back, realizing exactly where he was again. With clenched fists he looked to you, ready to engage in another attack.

He didn’t get a chance.

With only a gut instinct to guide you, you tried not to think too hard about the crazy move you were about to commit. Bucky watched as the mask surrounding your face went off, surprised to be met with two, innocent E/C eyes. “Why are you fighting,” you said the words very slowly, scanning over him in case of attack.

Bucky coughed, a bit taken back by the sudden trust you were bestowing to him. He looked up and down your face, trying to sense some sort of trickery that you had to be using. Some sort of trap. As he stared, however, he found none. “There are other soldiers, like me,” he couldn’t believe he was actually talking to you in the middle of a fight, “If…. If Zemo gets to Siberia before us, he will have one of Hydra’s most dangerous weapons in his hands. That’s why we’re fighting. We need to get to them before he does.”

“And we’re stopping you,” you flicked your gaze at him, “Because….?”

Bucky simply scoffed, his own eyes looking over your shoulder, “The government wants my arrest, and the others signed a deal with the government. They do what they tell them to. Didn’t Tony explain any of this to you, doll?”

You decided it was best not to answer his question. In truth, it made perfect sense. Just another set of rules you’d now have to obey. Even as a superhero, life had it’s limits.

But that didn’t mean you had to follow them.

You followed Bucky’s gaze over your shoulder, turning to see a reluctant Steve. You had no clue how long Captain America had been there, you didn’t really want to know. He stood a few feet back, hidden behind the jet way that was shielding you from the rest of the battle. As you took a step forward, you noticed his jaw was clenched. He didn’t want to fight you, but you very well knew he would. That was the one thing you always admired about your almost-older-brother, his determination. Solemnly, you muted your speaker.

“Go on,” you reluctantly mused, reactivating your turbo jets to fly out of the way,“I won’t stop you.” The Winter Soldier’s eyes sharpened at this, carefully examining the situation. You met his glare with what little reassurance you could give him, again taking another step back. “I’ve spent my whole life following rules,” you softly mused, a dark grin creeping across your face, “When I finally thought I got my own choice, it turns out it was just another scheme to somehow use me as a pawn. But unlike my uncle, my pride’s not worth it. Now go.”

You weren’t exactly sure what emotion seemed to flash across Bucky’s eyes. In fact, the more you stared into them, the less you found you really knew. Your gaze danced over to Steve, Bucky let out a bemused sigh. “Thanks,” it almost sounded like a laugh, as if you two weren’t in the middle of a raging civil war, “Nice to know someone believes me.”

You watched as he sprinted over to Steve, taking shelter behind the jet way. With a somber smile, you looked over the raging battle, the tingling excitement nowhere to be found. “We gotta go,” you distantly heard Bucky say, “That guy’s probably in Siberia by now.”

“We gotta draw out the flyers,” you heard Steve chide back. The rest you tuned out as you clenched your eyes together. Nothing but the sound of your own heaving made it past your ears, as your now cold heart concocted a plan. Ever since you had been a child, this had been your life. You were a pawn, worthless in your own home. Even after your parents had died, the endless stream of webs never ceased. Tony Stark adopts relative orphaned by devastating car crash!  What a man in the eyes of the press. Well, this was the last time you’d be manipulated by someone you loved. The. Last. Time.

“Let me help,” your interjection seemingly came out of nowhere. With a swift yield you zoomed forward towards the two, trying not to draw attention to the hiding place. “Let me help.”

“I can’t do that, Y/N,” Steve lowered his shield as you flew over, but made sure to stay a bit on guard, “I’m sure you don’t even know what’s going on here.”

“I do now!” you stubbornly pleaded, “And I know I’m on the wrong side. This was just another trick, another public statement I’m being used for. Please, Steve. Let me help.”

You tried to pay little attention to Bucky as he narrowed his eyes, trying to piece together what aim you were playing. As his gaze perused over you, he couldn’t stop a tiny grin from crawling onto his face. In fact, you’d admit it was rather distracting, but you tried to shake the butterflies off as you awaited Steve’s answer. The man was caged in, unwilling to bring you into more drama but also needing the assistance. After giving a large sigh, he glanced once more over his shoulder before turning to you. “All right fine. You can come with us,” Steve reluctantly gave in, clenching his hand around his shield, “Let’s go.”

#bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier x reader #bucky barnes imagine #marvel imagines #avengers x reader #uncle tony stark x reader #civil war #avengers civil wark #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky imagine #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction