#it’d be like a competition of trying to joke to cover up your true feelings and theyd create a feedback loop | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

peter-parcoeur · 3 years

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Good girl gone bad | (frat!tom)

request: How about frat cocky Tom at a Christmas party, wearing something that shows off his muscles, and he keeps flirting with y/n, who hates him. Throughout the night, he slowly wins her over, and once he has her in the palm of his hand, he makes her compliment him and then worship his muscles and then get on her knees and suck on him through his boxer briefs and then finally he f*cks her face and he's dirty talking and boasting all the way through :)

disclaimer: Hiii, so this was a request (sadly anonymous but if you’re out there reading this, I hope you enjoy and this lives up to your expectations...) this is my first attempt at fratboy!tom so I apologize in advance if that’s not exactly what you expected from it or whatever. Also I’m french so, some unfortunate spelling mistakes may occur and for this I apologize too! (damn I do really know how to sell myself, don’t I?) Anyway, enjoy your reading and please give it a ♥ if you liked it and a comment if you either really liked or hated it. Annnnd I’m talking too much.

warnings: smut smut smutty smut is to be expected, obviously. includes: brat!tom, braggy!tom, boasting!tom and some serious potty mouth / enemies to lovers (well, more like enemies to fuckbuddies idk) / oral-sex / face-fuck / dirtyDIRTY talk/ fingering / brief mentions of self luuuuvin (that’s masturbation, for you) / dom!tom + sub!reader / I guess a little bit of humiliation and praise kink idk if that’s triggering so just in case... / roughness... I guess that’s it? probably enough already.

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« Come on, it’ll be fun! God knows you could really use some fun… » your friend’s voice almost begged over the phone as you safely locked it between your cheek and your shoulder to open the door to your dorm room, your keyrings grazing the piece of metal surrounding the lock with a soft, clicking noise.

“Yeah cause hanging out with complete morons as they get shit-faced on cheap vodka is totally my idea of a good night...”

“ Urghhhh, Y/N please, are you really gonna be a Grinch about it?”

“ Well, it’s a Christmas party so I guess that’s convenient?”

You could tell your friend was getting frustrated by now, the slight change of tone in her voice making her sound desperate. Kicking off your shoes and dropping your books above the mess on your desk, you immediately crashed onto your bed with a loud, exhausted groan as this never-ending day had managed to push every single one of your buttons. You felt completely drained and yet, your best-friend wanted you to join her to some frat-house where, apparently, the “most incredible” Christmas party was about to be held? Uh-uh. No way. Your actual plan for a Friday night (= eating take-out food in front of some true crime documentary on Netflix) seemed much more appealing than the effort your friend seemed to require from you.

“You’re really gonna bail on me? What if something happens to me?”

“Now this is guilt pressure and you’re so much better than this! “ You laughed, “plus… I know you wanna go just so you can make out with Harrison… You really don’t need me for this and truth be told, I really don’t need to see that guy shove his tongue down your throat!”

“Maybe YOU need someone to shove his tongue down your throat “

“I’ll pass, thanks “

“Come on, how long has it been since you’ve got laid? “

“That’s… way beside the point?””

Still, you thought about it.

How long has it been, really?

Well. As far as you could remember, there were a couple (disastrous) tinder dates at the beginning of the semester. Nothing major even though the sex was still okay. Then you had decided to delete the app so you could focus on your studies, thinking that, eventually, life would grant you with an actual IRL, cute boy who could actually work a little harder to get into your pants whereas it had taken a single swipe on a screen for the previous contestants.

But for now, as the semester had come to an end and Christmas break was around the corner, it only occurred to you just how busy you had been, studying all night long and running on fumes and gallons of coffee. Maybe your friend was right. Maybe you truly needed to blow off some steam. Sometimes you wished you were more like her, carefree and less picky when it came to boys and random flings. Like her current crush, Harrison.

Harrison was a typical heartthrob with the face of a Greek God, so it was only natural for him to act like a brat and play with girls as he wished. With his piercing blue eyes and dreamy smile, girls could only wish he would look at them twice. But still, he wasn’t the worst part of Team Jackass, as you liked to call them. Their captain was actually Tom Holland. Football Quarterback, Tom collected girls’ hearts like trophies and held his pride within his questionable reputation. Party animal, heavy drinker and confirmed exhibitionist since he’d been caught fucking a cheerleader in the middle of the football field right after a game, his name was on everyone’s lips, whether they whispered gossips down the faculty’s corridor or muffled into a pillow as he dived into another naïve, besotted girl with the promise of an encore. To this day, all of the girls he had laid his eyes on were still waiting for a call-back.

You pulled a disgusted face at the thought of witnessing his little hunting game one more time. Tom was actually one of the main reasons why you usually skipped any frat party now. There were just so much time you could waste, sipping on some funky tasting “home-made” punch as “Football superstar” Tom Holland bragged about his athletic skills or how many girls he had fucked over the last couple days. Sometimes, it felt like a competition between him and his brain-dead friends. Somehow, you just knew he kept score of his one-night stands. Maybe he’d give you five stars for trying anal, a deep throat would give you another six and god forbid if you flattered his enormous, gigantic cock, well then, by all means, the throne would be yours. There was just something about him that screamed and irradiated praise kink.

“Y/N? Have I lost you?”

Your friend’s voice brought you back to reality as you seemed to have blacked out for a while.

Then, out of nowhere and unexpectedly, the words came out of your mouth.

“What time is the party then?”

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For every party, there’s a dress code.

Surely, a “Christmas” party just couldn’t be, without a fair splash of colorful jumpers or any subtle hints at Santa Clause as an excuse for a last-minute theme. Still, standing in front of what could only be Wednesday Addams’ wardrobe, you were suddenly hit by your lack of interest for any piece of clothes that wasn’t a shade between black and white. Was beige even a color anyway?

For a brief second, you considered wearing your infamous Christmas onesie, basically a fluffy one piece with a zipper, an oversized hood and covered with snowflakes and candy canes. The jokes would never end but no one could blame you for being ‘off theme’, then.

In the end, you settled for a rare “colorful” top which, luckily, happened to be whatever shade of green Christmas trees actually were. It was also skin tight and you knew for a fact it made your chest looks twice its size because of the way the velvet fabric enhanced your waistline. It was nowhere near provocative with its long sleeves and turtle-neck so you figured you could be a little bit more risky with the bottom part of your outfit, grabbing the black mini-skirt you’d bought a week before on a splurge, even though you didn’t know if you’d ever find the confidence to pull it off. It was short, there was no denying that as you turned around in the shop’s fitting room to catch a glimpse at your backside, knowing your whole ass would be exposed if you ever dared to bend down even so slightly.

Still, you felt sexy in it and as a girl who happily traded a sexy dress for yoga pants and an oversized hoodie, any piece of clothes that made you feel good about yourself was an instant buy.

Looking down at your final outfit as it laid down on your bed, a pair of nice ankle boots at the bottom of it, you patted yourself on the back for making the extra effort and walked to the bathroom for a well-deserved boiling shower. Staring at your reflection in the mirror above the sink, you sighed to yourself as the aftermath of a sleep deprived week and lack of skin care routine or basic maintenance whatsoever hit you like a truck on the highway. Your hair had been wrapped into the same messy bun for days and it would definitely take some professional skills to cover up the bags under your eyes.

Maybe this party was the wake-up call you needed, the equivalent of a Judging look from your mother every time you visited her after a while. You could almost hear her complain about how unhealthy you looked and how you should wear more “flattering” clothes. Ironically, you also knew she would never approve the skirt you intended to wear that night. You remembered just too well that frown she’d given you at your father’s 60th birthday and how you had to gulp an entire bottle of red wine to forget about the fact the woman who gave birth to you had called you a prostitute for wearing a dress above the knees. Sometimes it’d be like that. Family gathering were like a plague, somehow, you just couldn’t escape it and it would either scar you for life or make you wish you were dead.

As you entered the cubicle, the coldness of the tiles hit you, covering your skin with goosebumps and sending shivers down your spine. It took you a couple minutes to adjust as you waited for the water to turn hot enough to coat the mirror with a thick foggy layer. Only then did you relax, letting go of this week’s emotionally charged weight upon your shoulders and focusing on yourself, at last.

It was a fairly long shower as you decided to go through your entire haircare routine instead of a brief, one minute shampoo. Not to mention the fact you also had to shave entirely as it felt like it would be a good way to get rid of this nightmare of a semester, like stepping out of your old skin and into a new one. Usually, body hair was probably too far down the list of your preoccupations to even be noticed but you figured, as you felt surprisingly motivated, now was the right time to make your body smooth as a baby. You actually loved the feeling of a soft, freshly shaved skin.

As you rinsed off the soap, your hands fondling the body parts water failed to reach, your mind unexpectedly wandered through some steamy thoughts as soon as your fingertips grazed your slit, taking some shy dip between your folds. It was no surprise that a simple, barely there stroke would instantly strike your arousal, after all, it had been a while. You shamelessly admitted that your studies had taken over your life, up to the point you’d even find yourself too exhausted for some self-love. Somewhere in your chest of drawers, the small collection of adult toys you owned were probably collecting dust in the middle of your socks and panties, wondering when they’d get to take a swim and make you squirm into your sheets as you hold on to the headboard, biting your lip until it turns white so you don’t scream through climax.

What struck you the most was the fact TomfuckingHolland came to your mind the very second your middle finger met your clit, circling it softly as you felt electricity spark through your legs, making it jolt. Why the hell was his stupid smug splattered all over your unspeakable thoughts when he was, by far, the last man on Earth you’d let come close to your naked self? Let alone in a shower cubicle the size of a shoe-box where you’d have no space whatsoever to escape his heavy, muscular chest.

His body looked ridiculously built for a man with the face of a 13 year-old. Sometimes you’d catch him randomly flex throughout the day, showing off his enormous biceps to anyone willing to praise his impeccable shape. There would be no room for these guns in there, you thought as a brief image of these massive arms shielding you from both side, fists tight against the tiles, came immediately to your mind. What took you by surprise wasn’t to actually picture Tom standing in there with you, naked and definitely willing to make that room a lot steamier, but the fact you slipped a finger into your surprisingly dripping core as soon as you imagined him stepping closer so your bare, sticky chests would meet, his obvious arousal poking at your inner thigh, begging to make an entrance.

You stopped before you inevitably came, even though your body craved for that well-deserved relief. You may have been hornier than you thought, but not nearly horny enough to hand your first orgasm in months on a silver plate to a boy who probably stroked himself in front of a mirror on a daily basis. Your thighs squeezed together where your fingers had left a desperate void, rinsing your entire body with a much colder water, hoping it would bring your sanity back.

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You looked incredible.

It wasn’t just you boosting your ego through a pep talk in front of your mirror back in your dorm this time, and even if you loved to give yourself an encouraging speech, praising whatever features you thought made the cut in the top three of your best assets as you gathered the strength to go out in public in an outfit pretty far from your comfort zone, nothing could ever beat the look people gave you as you walked into the frat house looking like a three courses meal. There was just something about that short time slot where you caught a gaze and knew what that look was all about.

You knew Liza, the head student with a soft spot for athletes so obvious she probably had the entire football team’s handprints tattooed on her skin, just hated to see you get the attention she usually caught. Athletes loved nerdy, smart-ass girls like her, but to her own despair, you actually happened to be one of those, only with a shorter skirt and thicker thighs.

You knew half of Team Jackass was already staring at you, wishing they’d catch a glimpse of whatever you had to offer underneath that impeccable outfit as the soft fabric of your skirt kept rising up, every step bringing you closer to an unfortunate peek at the plain, white cotton undies you had chosen to wear that night.

But above anything, you could most definitely feel someone’s gaze upon you, burning up your skin like lasers trying to scan through your clothes. Suddenly, you felt exposed and with a simple smirk, Tom-Holland came out, strong as ever, just so he could pop out the comforting bubble you had built around you. Of course, he had chosen to wear the tightest white tee-shirt so everyone could distinctively see each of his six, rock-hard abs. Of course, his sleeves were slightly rolled up to enhance his biceps and if you weren’t familiar with his despicable behavior, seeing him flex just so he could kiss the pumped-up mount irrupting from his upper arm like a fresh batch of popcorn on a stove, you could have barfed immediately at the disgusting sight of a man with an ego the size of a fucking comet.

For now, you simply rolled your eyes all the way to the back of your head and watched as he smiled cockily, his hand reaching out for a redhead girl’s cheek even though his eyes were most definitely undressing you from afar. You could tell the girl had dressed to impress as she was tightly wrapped into the just-slutty-enough version of Santa’s outfit. Basically a velvet red dress with a fluffy white strap on top of her bustier. The way she laughed and twirled her long curly strand of hair as she gazed lovingly at Tom was enough for you to know she would soon join the never-ending list of names on his score board.

Shaking your head at how easy it seemed for him to get laid within the first hour of a party, you made your way to the kitchen where the alcohol seemed to be. As expected, most students were already sipping at some questionable cocktail right from the bowl with a straw and since you didn’t feel like going straight for the strong stuff, you settled for a beer, fiddling with the bottle cap for a solid minute before you heard a voice coming from behind your back.

“Need some hand with that, sweetheart?”

The cocky tone and thick accent immediately sent you off as a long, single shiver ran down your spine from the disgusting thoughts it brought along. It had come to the point you couldn’t even stand his stupid voice.

“I’m fine, thanks” you lied, your first still tightly gripped on your sealed beverage.

“You look like you could use some strength…”

Of course, he had to bring up his impressive, spectacular strength within seconds. Maybe he expected you to slow clap, bow down or throw confetti’s all over him for being strong enough to open a beer bottle. What on Earth would you do without his strong, manly hands?

Grinding your teeth as your tongue clicked against your palate out of pure annoyance, you gave him the most unimpressed look as he grabbed the bottle from your hand, popping out the cap hard enough to make it fly off and hit the table with a soft, metallic thump. Smirking to himself, Tom handed you the bottle back, tilting his head as he obviously expected some enthusiastic reaction.

“Do you want a medal or something?”

“A simple ‘thank you’ would be a good start? “He mocked, raising his eyebrows in a way that made your consider throwing the entire bottle at his face to wash away his stupid cockiness.

“Thanks” you simply blurted out, raising your beer slightly before walking away as you took a couple sips. It wasn’t even that cold or remotely good.

Tom watched as you walked away in silence, his eyes inevitably drawn to the way your hips and that glorious ass of yours seemed to wiggle into that daunting skirt. Grazing his thumb over his bottom lip with a smirk, the eager flame in his eyes made his will to take you to a quiet place grow bigger with each step you took.

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The music was getting considerably louder as people were now dancing all over the place, from the staircase to whatever was left of furniture after too many parties hosted in this house. The constant buzzing sound of chit-chats and laughter was slowly making your head spin as you gulped on your third (or was it the fourth?) Shot of tequila. As expected, Y/BFF/N had wasted no time as she was already clinging to Harrison’s neck, feasting on his mouth like an open buffet. His hands were on her bum, holding on to it for dear life with a strong grip. At least, she was having fun.

Out of boredom and to your own surprise, you had agreed on doing shots with a couple people you knew from class. Not technically what you’d call reliable friends but you always bumped into them at parties where you’d basically chat, and drink. From afar, you could see some people had gathered around a table where Team Jackass had started the inevitable beer pong contest. Nibbling at a piece of lime, hoping it would wash away the burning haze of the tequila, you winced at the sourness as your eyes suddenly locked with Tom’s. He was now holding his arms up on both side, raising one fist through the air as he had clearly won that first round. There was something pathetic about a man in his twenties begging for attention and acting like he was about to claim the gold medal at the Olympics when all he did was throw a feather-weighted plastic ball into a red cup.

All the alcohol in the world would never get you drunk enough to tolerate this guy.

Sometimes, you couldn’t help but think it was a shame to see him act so pitiful when he face was actually okay. Well. He was definitely cute as long as his mouth was shut and his stupid, pretentious smug out of the way. With his soft, chocolate brown eyes, his tousled eyebrows and thin pink lips, he could’ve been a guy you’d be interested in. His brown hair was somehow, always tucked into a snapback or a beanie but you had caught a glimpse of his natural curls once and though it killed you on the inside to admit it, he did look great when he didn’t try too hard to be a complete asshole.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t see him walk towards you.

“We’re doing shots now? “

“Impressive” you frowned, “did you figure it out all by yourself?” you chuckled, swallowing what’s left of lime, basically pulp, in one soft gulp.

“You like to act all smart ass around me, don’t you?”

“Correction: I am, in fact, smart… Not that it’s something you’re familiar with so, pardon me if it’s all too confusing for you… “

“Are you calling me dumb, then?” he was frowning now, his enormous self-centered head deflating under the unexpected pressure of your witty come-back.

“Did you hear the word ‘dumb’ coming out of my mouth?”

“No – but I sure know what I would like to see come in that sweet mouth of yours, darling”

The fact he had the nerves to say that kind of stuff right to your face was enough to piss you off but what caught you off guard was his hand reaching for your face as his thumb delicately grazed your bottom lip, pulling at it just enough for you to taste his fingertip.

“Surely, lime isn’t the only thing you like to suck on?” he smiled, cocky as ever as you could feel actual rage building up from your core and all the way to the back of your throat.

“I suggest you keep your hands off me” you snapped, pushing his hand off your face as he laughed to himself, the raspy sound caught in his throat making you throb against all odds.

“Or what? What you gonna do about it, uh?” he teased, confident as ever, his words coming out of his mouth halfway between a threat and a challenge. His arms were crossed against his chest now, making every inch of muscle he owned just pop out. There was nothing sweet about the way his body was built, and was he ever given the occasion, you knew he could break your spine in half with his one hand. You just wished you’d never thought about it as the filthiest images came to your mind, starting with Tom spinning you around over the sink in the bathroom and pinning you down with his palm pressed between your shoulder blades as he pounded hard and fast into you.

Maybe Tequila had gotten to your head faster than you expected.

“I know girls like you” he started, walking backwards until your back hit the wall and you were completely trapped between his arms, one of his leg parting yours so his knee would slowly graze that spot where your thighs met, claiming his access to that precious part of your body you could definitely feel getting damper against your will.

“What about it?” you asked, slightly more provocative than you had intended.

“You like to act all innocent, pretending you have higher standards…” His breath was warm, wrapped into the thickness of alcohol, curving a ball at the back of his throat so his voice would come out raspier and lower than usual, “… but secretly you just want guys like me to fuck the back of your throat until you choke”.

You felt it. Your pussy throb at the single thought of it. You didn’t want to physically react to these obscene images, words coming out of his mouth filthier than anything you’d ever heard, but still, as hard as you wanted to remain cold and unbothered, there was no denying for the dampness between your thighs. You just hoped he wouldn’t get a chance to notice it.

“You disgust me” it took you all the strength you had to spat back at him, and even then, all he did was smile then chuckle softly to himself as his hand slid up your throat, wrapping it slowly until his thumb pressed itself into the crook under your chin, nesting as it was made to be there.

“Please—are you really going to pretend you’ve never thought about my cock filling up your pretty mouth?” his fingers found your lips again, tracing it slowly as your heartbeat increased with each word, “like you’ve never thought about me when you finger yourself at night” he paused, pinching his bottom lip between his teeth as he tilted his head, his mouth coming closer to your hear with a dark whisper “I know you do, baby… I know you touch yourself thinking of me, wishing those fingers were mine, diving into your dripping cunt… Touching spots you could only wish you’d reach… how I would spread those lips open and run my tongue all over your slit….” A warm breeze brushed your neck as a cursed laugh escaped his lips, making you squirm unexpectedly, “I bet you taste so sweet, I would never get enough of that glorious pussy…”

By now, you were wrapped into the intoxicating scent of his cologne. It was strong and manly as expected, yet comforting in a way you didn’t want to think about. You didn’t want to picture yourself wearing that grey hoodie he loved to wear after a game, his perfume raining over your bare chest as you’d lazily ride him on his dorm bed after you’d get bored of whatever movie you’d settled for, pushing your panties to the side as he couldn’t be bothered taking it off completely. You didn’t want to picture him unzipping that same hoodie, palming your boob with one of his strong hands as his mouth sucked on your nipple until your soft, delicate skin turned red from all the biting marks. You didn’t want to feel yourself stretch around his rock-hard cock as he’d lift your legs up to wrap it around his neck, because he’s that kind of jerk who likes to show off even when he’s completely buried inside of you, that kind of complete asshole who loves to remind you just how deep he can go, smirking to himself as he hits your special spot over and over and over…. until you beg for him to stop. That kind of utterly disgusting dickhead who’d never stop, because he knows that, deep down, you just want him to keep going.

“Now you can tell me you’re not already wet… But we both know that’s a lie” he smiled again and as you felt his hand going down, palming you through your top and all the way down to the front of your skirt, you finally decided to come to your senses and grabbed his wrist into your tight fist, stopping him just in time before he’s reached the only approval he truly needed.

“Go to hell, Holland” you snapped, using all of your strength to push him off and walk away.

You didn’t turn back to see him chuckle at the sight of your flushed face.

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The coldness of water came as a shock as you bent over the sink in the bathroom, splashing your face until it didn’t feel like your skin was on fire. Grabbing a towel, you patted your cheeks and forehead, staring at the reflection in front of you. You definitely looked flustered, like you had just run a marathon when all you really did was to suffer through your archenemy’s evil little game.

Usually, you would have just brushed it off and that’d be it. But tonight, for some reason, you just couldn’t seem to shake him off your thoughts, his voice still echoing through your head like a curse without a cure. Outside the bathroom, you could hear the muffled sound of music and screams coming from the living room as beer-pong had turned into strip-pong with everyone removing a piece of clothes every time the ball missed the cup. Typical, drunken behavior. Soon enough these parties would turn into a massive orgy and it wouldn’t even come out as a big surprise.

Freshen up a little had helped you settle your thoughts back into place but still, your body didn’t seem to catch a break as the build-up tension and frustration Tom had caused within your core was yet to be released. There was no denying that your toys would have come handy if you were back to your dorm room as it felt like your pussy kept clenching for no reason, like the gaping mouth of the thirstiest man in the middle of a drought. You knew how bad you needed to put it out of its misery but if you thought undressing for a ping pong game was bad, what would happen if anyone walked on you literally fingering yourself in the bathroom of a frat-house? No one would shut up about it.

Tom would certainly not. Shut. Up. About. It. Ever.

You pressed your thighs together, hoping for some sort of relief as his words came back haunting you, thinking about how your hand had found its way between your legs earlier in the shower, the very second you had thought about his body pushing you up against the tiles. Is that what he was to you, now? A fantasy? Would you become another disgusting cliché of a girl begging for the typical frat boy to fuck her at a party because she couldn’t handle his dirty mouth?

Then you thought about your best-friend and how the last time you’d seen her, she was heading upstairs with Harrison, giggling, her lipstick smudged all over her chin after making out heavily on the couch up to the point everyone was starting to wonder whether they should be charged for that kind of peep-show or just roll with it. How she was probably getting fucked in his bedroom while you were standing alone in a bathroom, dripping wet for a man you hated down to the very bottom of your guts.

The door swung open abruptly, making you jump.

“So that’s where you’ve been hiding!” Tom smiled, walking in.

“Can’t a girl have some privacy?”

“I need to take a piss, you’re the one standing out there doing nothing” he joked, walking to the toilets with his hands already fiddling with the zipper of his pants.

“Hum, excuse me?” you spat, widening your eyes as you realized he was genuinely about to use the toilets with you still standing a few meters away.

“I said I needed to take a piss… So either you just stand there watching, which I don’t mind really… or you can get out?” he pointed his chin towards the door, unbothered as he casually pulled his dick out of his boxers.

Both infuriated and shocked, you turned around as there was no point leaving the room now that his whole junk was out and already halfway through it.

“Do you have to be that disgusting? Really you’re such a pig!” you complained as you heard him sigh with relief before the toilet flush broke the most awkward silence of your entire existence.

“Don’t worry darling, I’ll clean it up real nice just for you…” he smiled even though you still had your back turned to him. You heard him use the tap, washing his hands for a considerably long amount of time. At least he wasn’t one of those filthy rats who thought basic hygiene was optional.

“What were you doing by the way?” he finally asked, grabbing the towel to your left, “touching yourself thinking about me?”

You turned around to face his cocky face once more, this time with a furious need to slap it. Hard.

“You know I’ve seen you walking around campus a couple times, Y/N… Those big jumpers and yoga pants you like to wear don’t do that body any justice, but this?” he circled his finger in the air, pointing out her entire outfit “this, I like to see… and if you weren’t being a little brat I would gladly pull up that skirt up to your waist and have you there, above the sink…”

“I’m being a brat?” you scoffed. That was rich, coming from the ultimate king of bratty assholes.

“Well you call it whatever you like but denying yourself something you truly need just to prove a point seems a little childish…” he shrugged, shoving his hands into this jeans pocket and giving you a perfect glimpse at the veins running up his arms and disappearing underneath his rolled up sleeves.

“You think all girls are begging for you to fuck them? Really?”

“Probably, yeah, and who could blame them really? I have a great cock and I’ve never had a single bad review about the way I use it…” he smiled, with the arrogance of a king sitting on a throne of indecency.

“You’re so full of yourself… it’s insane” you shook your head with pure disgust.

“Then go ahead and prove it”

“Prove what, exactly?”

“That you’re not dripping wet as we speak…”

Point taken.

You were, indeed, dripping wet and soon enough, you’d have some serious explaining to do as the thin cotton fabric of your underwear was now soaked with your unsolicited arousal. Even though your head was filled with hateful thoughts and resentment for Tom, it felt like your body would not stop begging for his touch, dragging him closer like two pieces of magnets on a fridge. Unconsciously, you were now standing a couple inch away from his face, so close you could actually smell the soft mixt of menthol and alcohol from his breath. There was no point denying the obvious tension between you two as you looked like you were about to break into a passionate kiss but now it was just a fight between your will for self-preservation and your body, aching to be touched.

And so you heard yourself say these words you never thought you’d say, like you were standing in the audience as your other self was performing on stage, making some questionable decisions you weren’t 100% okay with.

“Which one’s your bedroom?”

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You could have fought longer, for the sake of your personal values, but as your feet were swiped off the ground, your back hitting the door as it closed behind you with a loud slam, all of your good sense and respectable choices just vanished as much filthier thoughts buried them for good.

Your legs were wrapped around his waist as his hands had wasted no time and found their way under your top, fondling your breast with the hunger of a wolf. Your lips attached to his, you moaned louder than expected as he pushed himself a little harder against you, the obvious stiffness of his crotch pressing against your aching core. Your skirt had risen up to your waist from spreading your legs a little too wide, flashing your white panties as it was now so soaked you could definitely see the outline of your lips, the thin fabric sticking to your slit. Catching your breath, heavy pants breaking your kiss, you looked into Tom’s eyes only to see nothing but pure, absolute lust in them. As you tugged at his brown locks, a couple strand curling slightly at the back of his neck, you watched as his snapback fell to the floor with a thump, unleashing his brown untamed mane.

Suddenly, he didn’t seem so bad, groaning slightly as your fingers scrapped the back of his neck, your lips sucking on his throat for good measures. With his head tilted back slightly, it felt like Tom was getting soft for a while, caving in so you could take control over him. Unfortunately, that didn’t last long as he suddenly traced a hand all the way down to your inner thigh, immediately pushing your panties to the side with his middle finger.

“I knew it…” he smiled, sliding his finger along your slit as you wrapped it up with a glistening coat of arousal. You knew he had won the minute he felt just how wet you were for him, but when it should have been upsetting, you just didn’t care. All you needed now was to feel his cock filling you up in any way he wanted, “who made you this wet, darling?” he smiled, pulling at your bottom lip with his teeth.

“Don’t be a brat…” you complained as you could see some mischief in the way he looked at you.

“Just say it” he insisted “I want to hear you say out loud just how wet I make you” this wasn’t a request, but an order. And for some obscure reason you didn’t want to figure out, it somehow turned you on even more.

“You…” you started, biting your lip out of nerves, or out of excitement, you weren’t sure quite yet. “You make me so wet, Tom” you almost moaned, pushing yourself a little harder against his hand when he failed to give you exactly what you needed. His fingers. Buried deep inside of you.

“Hmm” Tom groaned, two of his digits spreading your lips apart at a torturing slow pace, “I like the sound of that…” his knuckles were barely halfway when you buckled your hips off the door, begging for more, “what’s that darling? Tell me what you want…” he was whispering by now, slowly pushing his fingers into your desperate slit, “I want to hear you beg for it…”

You felt him push deeper, curving his fingers into a hook every time he reached your g-spot. By now you were so aroused you just knew it would take you more than a couple stroke to cum heavily into his awaiting palm. You could hear the sloppy sound of your own wetness every time he slammed his slick, extremely skilled digits back into your throbbing pussy. His lips curved into a hasty smile as he could feel you literally drip all over his palm and wrist.

“I want you… I want you so much” you barely managed to whimper as he increased the pace, his wrist working its magic between your thighs.

“Hmm hmm? I’m gonna need you to be more specific baby… what exactly do you want?” his thumb grazed your clit for a brief second and that was enough for you to squeal under his touch, making you clench suddenly around his fingers, “say you want my cock” he almost growled as you felt his hard-on twitch against your thigh, begging to be freed.

“I want your cock” you immediately wimped, your own words sending shivers down your spine as you twitched with anticipation, “I want it so, so bad…”

“Good girl…” he hummed, slowing down the pace so he could add a third finger, stretching you out slightly this time, “d’you think you can take it though? It’s pretty big…” he smiled, twisting his hand just enough so he could dig himself a path.

You simply nodded, unable to speak anymore, but as you were about to beg for more, Tom removed his hand, leaving you frustrated and hornier than ever. His face changed suddenly as he watched you pout, his hand reaching up for your lips.

“What about that pretty mouth, then? You think it may fit?” he smiled, spreading your lips apart so you could taste yourself on his soaked fingers. You immediately obliged, sucking at it, one by one, never keeping your eyes off him. When he shoved three of his digits, watching as your tongue twirled around it, cleaning it off completely, you could definitely tell his eyes had gotten darker, filled with unspeakable thoughts you would be begging to hear soon.

“You’re gonna let me fuck that pretty face?” he added, removing his fingers from your mouth so he could give you a soft, cheeky slap on the cheek. You nodded, obedient as ever. “Say it” he commanded, louder this time, “say you want my cock inside your mouth”.

“I want it… I want your cock inside my mouth” you pouted, only because you knew he loved to see you beg like a spoiled little princess. You’d seen it in his eyes, the way he looked at you every time you tilted your head to fake an innocence that was long gone.

Tom stepped back, walking away slowly as he watched you standing there, flustered, your hair all over the place, panting out of lust and frustration. Pulling his shirt off, you watched as his impressive chest unveiled in front of you. Abs like rocks, a thin strand of hair tracing a path from his navel to his crotch, disappearing under his jeans, his impeccable V-line bringing images you never thought you had within yourself. As he pushed his hair back, daunting you with his a look half way between arrogance and disdain, it felt like all signs of dignity had left your brain as all you could think about was to crawl to the floor and beg for his cock.

“What you’re waiting for then, Darling?” he smiled, unzipping his flies as he watched you walk towards him and get on your knees within seconds.

Your hands pulled at his jeans until it finally pooled around his ankles. Looking up to stare into his eyes, you felt both small and powerful, submissive but in control as you were now responsible for this man pleasure. It was up to you whether he’ll get to cum or not. But as you considered edging him as an option, Tom wasted no time in remembering you who was actually in charge.

“Are you gonna be a good girl for me?” he sighed, grabbing your hair into a fist as his other hand stroked his cock through the cotton fabric of his boxers. You could tell he was just horny as you were as a couple pre-cum had already stained his briefs, turning it into a darker shade of grey.

Again, you nodded, removing his hand so you could replace it with yours, palming him through his briefs as he growled against your touch. He was big. Actually much bigger than you expected but somehow, you were up for a challenge. Tracing the outline of his cock with your fingers tips, you felt him push his hands on the back of your head, forcing you to come closer to his crotch.

“I want to fuck your pretty little mouth so, so bad” he groaned as you unexpectedly ran your tongue all over his stiff through the fabric, feeling it twitch as you palmed his balls. By now he was so hard you could feel the veins tracing a dirty road up to his leaking head as Tom started grinding slowly against your mouth, messing up your hair with his desperate fists.

When you pulled down his boxers, you took a couple seconds to stare at his glorious manhood, hard and pressed against his abdomen where it curved slightly, your mouth watering with a thirst you could have never pictured, especially when standing in Tom Holland’s bedroom. And yet, you couldn’t wait to have this magnificent piece of flesh filling up your mouth.

“Like what you see?” Tom smirked, boasting as ever but immediately squinting his eyes with a deep growl the minute he felt your tongue licking at the base, slowly going up until you finally bobbed on his creaming head.

You had always been good at this, giving head. Not that all of your partners would give you a proper review in the morning, pointing out your highs and lows, but there were just things men couldn’t do, like hiding the fact they were just having the time of their lives. And right now, Tom actually looked like there was nowhere else in the world he would rather be than standing here, with his cock in your mouth.

Twirling your hand at the base where you mouth couldn’t go just yet, you started bobbing up and down his shaft, sucking your cheeks in so your mouth would pop every time his dick came out. You had quickly figured out a couple things about Tom, including the fact he just seemed to love it dirty and noisy. You could actually hear him growl louder, his fist tightening its grip into your hair every time he slipped off your lips, only for him to shove it back a little harder and definitely deeper with each thrust.

“That’s it baby… Just like that… you’re such a good girl…”

You were a good girl, indeed. Always had been. Straight-A’s student from day one, the pride and joy of your parents, spending most of your week-ends doing some volunteer work whenever it was needed while being a caring, polite girl who never did anything wrong. Right choices only.

Or so you thought. Obviously, tonight would be always marked as the only questionable decision on your impeccable path to perfection. But still, as Tom grabbed your face with both hands to push himself deeper and all the way down your throat, making you gasp for air slightly, you had no regrets.

You stayed still for as long as your lungs could handle it, holding on to his firm, muscular buttocks as you swallowed him all. Looking down on you, Tom was left speechless as his cock stretched your cheeks out, his balls resting into your palm as you twitched them slowly, making it jolt with both pain and pleasure. When you felt like you were about to gag, you pushed yourself back, gasping for air as you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. Your cheeks felt numb and yet it missed the feeling of being stretched out already.

“Hmmm baby look at you…. you think you’re ready for it?”

“Yeah” was all you could blurt out. Yes to anything he wanted. You were prepared. You longed for it.

Looking around as Tom started pumping himself, getting ready for you, spitting into his palm to lube himself up so your lips wouldn’t drag along his shaft too much, you just couldn’t believe you were there, kneeling on the navy carpet of Tom Holland’s bedroom, the epitome of the ultimate frat boy. A huge flag from his favorite sports team was hanging above his bed, his never-ending hats collection sitting on wooden shelves by the wall like it was some kind of “frat boy starter pack” Art exhibition. In the corner of the room, you caught an unexpected glimpse at a guitar. It looked fairly new, but never in a million years would you have pictured Tom playing guitar. On his desk, his laptop was still open on a Spotify tab where you’d probably find a playlist based on some typical white boy rap music but against all odds, the room looked neat compared to what you had in mind.

“You look so beautiful” he sighed, out of nowhere, and to be completely honest, had your mouth not been filled with his dick, you would have probably picked up your jaw from the floor. Taking him all in once more, you just pretended you couldn’t hear, sparing you some awkward misunderstanding. Maybe those words were actually directed to his dick. After all, the boy loved himself just that much.

His hands were all over your face, wiping tears from your eyes every time he hit the back of your throat a little too hard, stroking your cheeks, massaging the back of your neck, roaming through your tangled hair as your kept up with his reckless pace, his hips swinging back and forth while you remained completely still so you could take him like a champ.

“God, I love to see you choke on my cock….” He gritted through his teeth “so…so hot…” you could tell he was getting sloppier now, pumping in and out of your mouth abruptly then a lot more slower as a couple twitch from his cock gave you a hint of his upcoming grand finale.

By now, you were a slippery mess, the taste of pre-cum hitting your throat as you dribbled all over his shaft, obscene sounds of suction coming out of your mouth every time he pushed himself out and back in all over again.

“F----uuuuck….fuck baby I’m gonna come!” he grunted, the sudden high-pitch of his broken voice driving you insane as you pushed yourself up a little so you could open your mouth wider, expecting him to fill it up soon enough. “D’you want me to cum in your mouth? Uh?” again, he gave you a little slap on the cheek, not quite hard enough for you to feel any pain. You nodded, moaning whatever came close to a “yes” as every single inch of your mouth was filled with Tom.

You heard him whimper, twitching a couple times, harder with his thrust as his hand fisted into your hair abruptly throughout his climax. Looking up to see his face, your eyes locked with his as he came all over your tongue, raining down your throat with a couple last, sloppy thrusts.

“Oh fuck! Fuck fuck fuck fuuu------“

Your eyes immediately teared up as you tried your best to swallow every drop of cum he had to give, the corner of your lips dripping like an overflowing sink.

Then there was a complete silence.

As you wiped your mouth off the thick, warmness of his cum, you felt him kneel to your side, then sit. Both of you looked completely exhausted, drained from every ounce of energy you had left.

“Well, that wasn’t half bad… for a little brat” he spoke again, and you just couldn’t believe he had gathered the energy to say this when he could have chosen silence.

Laughing quietly to yourself so you wouldn’t slap him across the face, you decided not to fuel him up and remained quiet instead. His hair had gone curlier than heaver, his glistening red face making him look like any cute boy you could easily fall for.

“I’ve got a feeling we’re gonna see a lot more of you at frat parties now?” he spoke again, and though it truly pissed you off to admit it, you just knew this wasn’t a one-time thing. For all you knew, this, was barely a prequel to a long, bumpy story of a good girl gone bad.

All because of Tom-fucking-Holland.

#tom holland #tom holland smut #frat boy tom holland #frat!tom #enemies to lover #tom holland x reader

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just-a-quirkless-loser · 4 years

Text

The Days of Your Youth

Young Enji Todoroki x F! Reader

Hanahaki Trope + BNHA Universe

Words: 5.9k

Warnings: Angst, Enji is an asshole, sexual content, A bit of the redemption arc at the end, graphic descriptions of violence, Characters are 18+

Asagao flowers bloom so beautifully in Sakai; what a shame that Musutafu is four hours away from those gorgeous flowers. So, you knew whenever Enji came bearing the dark blue edged flowers with purple insides, that he had endured the voyage to get them. It was small things like this that made you fall in love with him. If only you didn’t, then maybe you'd still be alive.

The two of you met in your youth when you both attended U.A. High School, both of you having dreams of being the number one pro-hero for the next generation. You hated him at first, which is understandable seeing as he’s brash and cares for no one but himself. He always argues with you, he doesn’t hold back during training, and he has an unhealthy obsession with your childhood best friend Toshinori Yagi, known to the public as All Might.

Your quirk was strong, the ability to heal from any wound and regeneration of your limbs but, he made you feel trivial in comparison to him.

“You can take a bullet, great. How useless that would be in a battle with a villain? You can’t even inflict any damage,” his words stung. All your life, you’d been ridiculed as having a “rescue” quirk, always being told that you’d never have the chance to fight “real villains.” You wanted to prove them all wrong...although, you didn’t prove anything in the end.

Because of the nature of your quirk, you were often paired with Enji whenever it was time to spar. He’d hit you with his fire, blistering your skin with no mercy. He’d knock your teeth down your throat, making you cough blood at his feet. He’d choke you with your own support weapon, making you feel weaker than what you thought you were. He made your life a living hell. So, how did you fall in love with him?

Your love didn’t happen overnight. Actually, the relationship between the two of you changed drastically after that day. The day is clear in the archives of your mind, almost like you’re watching a movie through your own eyes.

“Are you sure you can handle Todoroki today?” you were walking to the training rooms with Toshinori Yagi. He loomed over you as he glanced anxiously at the man in question. Everyone knew about the obvious tension between the two young men however, that day was different. Something primal was lurking in Enji’s glance whenever he looked your way.

“Regeneration, remember? I’ll be fine,” you pat the large man on the back. “Plus, I don't think he could kill me even if he tried.”

“I’m just worried. He’s off today. More confrontational.”

“He’s like this every day, Toshi. He’s probably just on his man period or something.”

“...Y/N, you do now men don’t have menstrual cycles? Right?”

“Yes, Toshi, you’ve told me dozens of times. It’s just a metaphor...till I can get some proof,” he facepalms as you rub your hands together to mimic scheming hands. “He’ll have to take his clothes off eventually.”

“You’re a menace to society; I love it,” you lean against each other as you laugh, attracting the attention of your classmates. “But, seriously, I’m worried.”

“Toshi, I will be perfectly fine. What’s the worst that can happen?”

***

“More! Get up,” you were gripping the right pant leg of Enji’s training suit, trying to pull yourself up to face him again. You body begged you to stay down but your mind -your pride- forced you up. The right side of your face was scorched. One of your eyes was missing from its socket. The guns you normally wield for support were thrown elsewhere, leaving you vulnerable to his onslaught. “You’re pathetic. U.A. isn’t meant for the weak. You don’t belong here with us.”

“You don’t get to tell me where I belong,” you charge to attack, switching your technique at the last minute so you could throw a hard jab to his abdomen. He countered with raising both of his fists above his head in a gorilla fashion and slammed them down on your spine, once again taking you to the mat. But, this time you heard a crack from your spine.

“I don’t know why you waste my time. Sensei just needs to let Yagi and I fight,” you laid at his feet paralyzed. However, the inability to move doesn’t hinder your ability to speak.

“Awww, Todoroki, you miss your boyfriend? I knew you had a hard on for him,” and, while you felt there was nothing wrong with being homosexual, you knew Todoroki was a traditional man who wouldn’t want a rumor like that to be spread. You snicker at his silence. “Must be true if you haven’t denied it.”

Words are meaningless if he can show you with his actions. He wastes no time dropping to his knees so he can lean over you, pushing you into your back as he slaps your face from side to side.

“You,” smack. “Have,” smack. “Issues,” smack.

“ENJI,” you hear Yagi yell in the background as rushes in to save you from your beating. Toshinori’s strong hands pull Todoroki up by the scruff of his neck, looking at the bloody mess your body has come to be, checking to see the rise and fall of your chest before he deals with the man he’s holding. “You could have killed her!”

“She can’t die,” to prove his point, Enji encircles your form with a ring of Fire, the smoke clogging your lungs as your skin is barely holding its form. However, you don’t feel the familiar tingling sensation of your regeneration.

“It doesn’t matter if she can’t die. She’s still human!”

“I’m making her stronger.”

“You’re abusing her,” they both glance down to see that you’ve stopped twitching. You look like you’ve been hit by a land mine: body bloodied, bones exposed, missing limbs. The smoke has cover you in a fine layer of soot, the particles of your own flesh smothered in your nose. “Fuck, Y/N? Y/N?! ANSWER ME! PLEASE! SENSEI!”

There’s only a few things you can recollect clearly. You were rushed to the hospital and you could hear the urgency in Yagi’s voice. If you closed your eyes long enough, you could still see your Sensei’s face looming over yours as he tried to get your attention. The smell of Enji still invades your nose whenever you remember how he sat next to you in the ambulance. You think he felt guilty for letting his desire to measure up to Yagi blind him once again. It’s just a shame that you had to be beat close to death’s door for him to feel remorseful.

You awoke to an obnoxious beeping to your left, a throbbing pain in you head, and a nuisance fire wielder to your right (you had to do a double take to make sure he didn’t beat the sense out of you).

“You’re awake.”

“No thanks to you,” he winces.

“Let’s just be thankful you’re alive.”

“Unfortunately.”

“That wasn’t a funny joke.”

“Who said it was a joke?” you spot Asagao flowers on your bedside. “Who brought the flowers?”

“I did.”

You move to sit up but hiss and grab your side. “Welp, that’s new.”

“Take it easy,” Enji rises and gingerly presses you back into the bed.

“You expect me to believe you spent eight flowers just to bring me flowers?”

“Yagi told me they’re your favorite. I figured it’d be a good way to start amending for what I’ve done.”

“You almost killed me. All because you have a superiority complex that I’ve done nothing to fuel. And, you call yourself a future hero?” you snort. “Oh, wait, let me correct myself, you call yourself the future NUMBER ONE hero!?” you turn to face him so he can’t escape your eyes. “Everyone’s right about what they say about you. You’d do anything if it meant you’d have a chance at facing Toshinori. You don’t care how many people get hurt in the crossfire. As long as you win this competition Toshinori doesn’t even know he’s a part of,” you laugh at the irony.

“What part of ‘I'm sorry’ do you not understand?” Enji growls as he pushes your body into the hospital bed, face coming to stare you down.

“What part of ‘you almost killed me’ do you not understand?” you return his energy with a sneer. “You don’t intimidate me; I’m not some bitch that will tuck her tail and run just because you try to throw a hissy fit.”

“You’re playing with the wrong person, little girl,” he fingers caress the side of your cheek.

‘Once again, this dude has issues.’

“I’m definitely playing with the right person. You need someone to knock you down a few pegs,” and this was when the doctor came to check on your condition, catching Enji and yourself so close that your foreheads were touching. His hands were parted on the sides of you as he puffed out some smoke through his nose.

“Sorry, lovebirds. I should’ve knocked. I’m Doctor Sugo and I have a few questions,” you nod in comprehension.

“Fire them off,” you intentionally use those words to make Enji tense. After years of verbal, physical, and psychological abuse, this was your opportunity to exact your revenge.

“You came in with extensive burns, missing limbs, choking around your neck, blackened lungs, and, it looked as though you died from asphyxiation. Your sensei notified us of your quirk, however, your behavior was reckless and had unforeseen consequences. I doubt you burned yourself alive. Did someone try to kill you?” this was your chance to end Todoroki’s chance of being a hero and end this silly game he’s created in his mind. It would’ve been easy.

“No, we were sparring and it got intense. Enji wanted to stop but I’ve been pushing my quirk limits to the maximum with the coming of our graduation. He lost control of his quirk,” you’ve never been the type to do things the easy way. “I apologize for the trouble my actions have caused.”

“Are you sure this wasn’t a young-domestic abuse situation?” he eyes Enji’s burly frame.

“No, Enji would never hurt me,” to prove your point, you intertwine your fingers with his and kiss the back of his hand, maintaining eye-contact with him. He blew more puffs of smoke into your face.

“In that case, I’ll notify your Sensei of what happened. Just let me check your vitals and I’ll leave the two of you to talk,” the whole time the doctor was in the room, Enji kept blowing smoke. You figured it was something he did when he was uncomfortable but, you couldn't be sure this was the first time you witnessed something like that in person. You both waited a couple of seconds after the doctor left before you continued the actual conversation.

“What the fuck was that?”

“That’s the first time I’ve ever heard you cuss...Do it again,” he gives you a pointed look.

“Answer the question.”

“For someone that’s ranked at the top of your class, you’re pretty dense. It’s simple; I’m blackmailing you.”

“Why?”

“Because, you need to be held accountable for your actions and, selfishly, I want to make your life a living hell. It wouldn’t be practical to let a strong quirk like yours to be sent to prison for attempted murder; you’re useful to the world and there’s no way I can’t acknowledge that you’d be formidable if you chose to become a villain due to my inability to keep my emotions in check,” he just stares. You spot Toshinori in the door frame and wave. “Toshi! Come in. I was just explaining to Enji what’s going to happen to him from now on.”

“Y/N,” he said in a warning tone. “Are you sure this is a good idea. He tried to kill you.”

“Shut it, Toshi. You’re too loud,” you roll your eyes. “Yes, I’m sure. This is perfect.”

And, it was perfect. Graduating U.A. High felt unreal at times; it felt even more bizarre as you managed to become a pro-hero alongside your friend, Toshinori, and your personal butler, Enji. Yep, he became your butler as a way to repent for his actions (his words, not yours) and you actually found his company enjoyable when he wasn’t engrossed with beating Yagi. He’s dedicated to the tasks you give him, even if they’re demeaning like walking around with a collar (the press had a field day with that one) or task oriented (like making you fresh coffee whenever you please).

“ENJIIIIIIII,” you’ve taken to bothering him immensely. “Put on this skirt.”

“Y/N, I’m not putting on that skirt. It would tarnish my image.”

“Hm, guess I’ll have to call Sensei. He'd probably believe me if I said you attacked me again. I mean, I’m just an innocent woman. I could just say I was scared the first time,” and that’s how Enji Todoroki was seen wearing a skirt for training multiple times. In all fairness, he looked like a menacing kitten. And, you've grown to like him. Maybe, it was his guilt for almost murdering you but, he found himself showing you tenderness as well. He just couldn't hate you no matter what you did.

“You idiot. I told you not to jump in front of me,” he was carrying your limp body in his arms as though you were his bride. Holding close to his heart, he could feel the warmth of your breath on his chest.

“Why wouldn’t I? I can’t have you dying on me yet. I haven’t gotten you to dress in drag yet,” blood spills from your ears as you blank out of consciousness. There were plenty of times you protected Enji from a villains attack and each time you told yourself you did it because you wanted to continue to blackmail him to be by your side. But, you just wanted him to yourself.

As the years roll on, you find yourself getting closer and closer to him, just barely missing his flames. You became used to patrolling with him as the Pro-Hero ‘Zombie.’ You enjoy going to Sakai in search of the perfect flowers. You treasure being able to see him every day. But, it’s not all peaches and cream.

“Enji, get over it. Toshi worked hard to be first,” you’re arguing again. Two years after the incident and he still hasn’t let go of his yearning to be the best. While sometimes you want to admire his hard work, you can’t help but question his motives. He’s lost the very reason he wanted to become a hero.

“Toshi just leaves to go to America, didn’t tell you, comes back to climb the ranks of the hero charts, and you’re just okay with that? Meanwhile, you lose your mind on me after I don’t answer your call on the first few rings?” he’s sitting on your bed, his jogging pants hanging down dangerously low on his navel, a few red hairs peeking at you. You lick your lips.

“I’m not saying what he did was okay but, you’re blowing this out of proportion. You’re twenty years old. You need to let go of this foolish rivalry,” you throw your legs over his lap. “It’s not healthy.”

“I’m not having this argument with you again. You always take his side,” you slap his chest, gulping at the strong pecs. You wonder how’d they feel bearing down on your back as he-

“Y/N, are you listening?”

“Flamehead, you know I don’t listen to dumb shit,” he puffs out smoke in irritation. “But, I’m not taking his side. I just think we’re getting too old for this.”

“That’s what you always say,” and you laid there with him watching t.v. The conversation ends like it always does but, you can tell Enji isn’t upset with you. It’s the same routine you always follow whenever he wants to talk about Toshinori’s “false achievements.”

Somehow, you end up cuddled into his chest, head pressed firmly into his neck as you feel the warmness of his pulse move underneath you. His arms keep you against him, caging your legs around his hips (it takes a lot to keep your mind from wandering off).

His fingers play with the exposed skin of your back, leaving scorching trails around his fingertips.

“Are you hungry? I still can cook-” Enji’s phone goes off. He gets up and softly pushes you to the side, answering his phone as he absentmindedly rubs your hair. He’s soon getting up to get his things, pulling on his hoodie and ending the call, staring at the phone for a few seconds.

“Who has you up and in a hurry?” you’re kneeling at the edge of the bed, his jacket in your fist to keep him from leaving.

“My finacé’s family.”

‘Fiancé?’

“Fiancé? Who is she?”

“I don’t know yet. All I know is that her quirk is the perfect compliment to mine, which is the only thing that I need,” he’s pulling away. You’re speechless. Is-Is this jealousy? Is this bubbling fury jealousy? Is this small pain jealousy? Is this mind-numbing sensation jealousy? You can't be jealous. Not of some woman you don’t even know. “I have to go. I need to get ready to meet her?”

“B-But, you don’t even know her!”

“I know she’ll ensure that I beat All Might,” so, that's what this was about. Another last ditch effort to win something with no prize. You should’ve known those touches meant nothing but, how could you when they felt so tender? “Plus, you shouldn’t care. Soon, we’d both have to leave and start our own families; this would have had to happen eventually.”

“You don’t love her. You just want to beat him,” you slump down, your calves touching the back of your thighs as you feel a stirring in your chest. “I just don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret when you’re older.”

“That’s not your concern. I’ve got to go.”

You cough up an Asagao flower, staring at it with trepidation.

‘Oh shit.’

The next time you see him is two weeks later. His hair is still styled upwards, his scowl has deepened making him look older than what he really is, his eyes darker than before. Both of you sit one a rooftop, starting over Musutafu. His body is curled in on itself, the flames of his suit keeping you warm in the brisk fall night. Part of his arm is slung over your shoulder, drawing you into his side.

“Have you ever been in love, Enji?” you see him puff out a few smoke clouds, a telltale sign that you've either made him embarrassed or uncomfortable. “Like, real love? The type of love that doesn’t go away no matter how much you try to kill it?”

“You know I don’t have time for sentiments like that,” he looks at your wistful expression, wondering to himself how you manage to look even more breathtaking than the last time he saw you.

“But, what if you could fall in love? What if things like time and being a hero didn’t matter? Wouldn't you want that?”

“No, there’s no girl good enough for me or my love,” such sweet lies sound true coming from him and that burns you more than his fire ever has.

“What about marriage? Kids?”

“You already know I have an arranged quirk marriage. I met her and she is adequate enough to give me a child fit to be the number one hero of the new generation.”

“Jeez, you sound like you’re quoting a business proposal.”

“It is business,” he sounds like he’s scolding you for not knowing this. You feel your stomach fill with more flowers and you feel some crawling up your throat. It’s suffocating you but, you chalk that up to your nerves bothering you. “I’m guessing you brought this up because you think you’re ‘in love.’ “

“I know I am,” you stop your sentence to cough into your arm, catching a few Asagao flowers in your elbow. So, this is how you’re going to die? Dying from a disease that even your regeneration can’t save you from? Choking on flowers because Enji can’t reciprocate your feelings? “As you can see, it’s one sided.”

“Leave them alone. Feelings go away,” but, they didn’t. It just got worse and worse and worse. Because, as much as you knew you should leave Enji, you just couldn’t. Your heart longed for him. Your heart belonged to him. And, Toshinori couldn't understand why.

“Y/N, please, I don’t understand why you'd die for someone that wants nothing to do with you,” Toshinori chided. “Get the surgery. They can take the feelings out. I’ll be right by your side to help you.”

“You’d never understand, Toshi. You'd never understand waking up every morning, wanting someone so bad you have no motivation to do anything but lay in your own tears. I’d rather die loving him than pretend I never felt these feelings at all.”

“But, why?”

“Because, he’s hurt me so much; this is my last ‘fuck you’ to him. Because, I know one day he’ll change. One day, he'll want to see me and I'll be dead. I want him to feel the same pain that I feel now. He needs to feel my rage, he needs to feel my abandon. HE NEEDS TO FEEL ME!”

“Y/N, I’ve already lost Nana. I can’t lose you too.”

“I love you, Toshinori Yagi. Be great for me,” and that’s the last thing you ever said to your childhood best friend.

***

When you opened the door, Enji wasn’t expecting to see you only in a long shirt, tuffets of a flower stuffed in your mouth.

“What the fuck, Y/N? You look like shit. You can’t open the door like that,” he comes in and you immediately cling to him.

“I love you.”

“What?”

“I’m in love with you Enji.”

“You can’t be.”

“But, I am,” you hold one of your saliva covered flowers to his heart. Your eyes are tired and barely stay open but you can't take your eyes off of him. “This is for you. All of them are for you. Loving you is killing me,” you laugh at the irony. Who would’ve thought Enji would end up killing you anyway?

“Then, stop,” Enji rips the flower from your fingers and throws it to the side. You dive for the flower, causing him to follow you down to your floor. “Let it go.”

“I can’t. It’s all I have right now,” you’re sobbing while retching up flowers. His arms encase you, almost like he’s trying to keep you from falling apart. “I can’t just let go. I can’t just stop loving you, Enji.”

He doesn’t really say anything to you. Maybe, he’s too stunned or maybe he’s too afraid he’ll say the wrong thing but, he finds that it’s better to just hold you.

“Enji, could you do something for me?”

“Anything.”

“Could you make love to me?” he can’t deny you your wish with how pitiful you look. So, he scoops you up in his arms and takes you to your bedroom, heart pumping hard at what he’s about to do. He’s getting married in a week yet, he’s here about to give his body to you.

Laying your body down on the bed, he watches as your covers fan around your head like a halo and, for a moment, he wonders if that’s what you would look like as an angel. Ethereal and tired. The air in the room is growing hotter as he sweats, nervous to strip you down. He’s no stranger to sex but, this is the first time he’s ever focused on someone else’s pleasure.

“Just, lay there.”

“What the fuck else am I going to do? Run off,” he chuckles. Leave it to you to find some comedy in your weakest moments. He starts with stripping you of your long shirt -actually, his shirt that had gone missing the last time he stayed at your house- and stares at your body, naked and exposed to the air.

He takes a few minutes to take in your beauty, ghosting over your skin as he watches you quiver in anticipation. Your eyes are blown and a petal is on your cheek, reminding him of what had happened to you. Your hands wrap around his forearm as you silently beg him to touch you.

“Always have been needy,” when he kisses you, it makes your toes curl from his smokey breath. Envisioning his taste held no comparison to what he really was. It’s like he was breathing his smoke into your lungs, making sweat bead on your skin.

His hand grasps your neck and you moan at the warmth that he gives you, toes curling at the pressure he puts on your throat. The flowers slide down your esophagus, allowing some of your essence to mix with his. He’s weighing you down into your mattress as he’s ripping off his shirt, buttons flying everywhere as he tries to shimmy out of his pants. His kisses trail down the column of your neck and he’s groaning at the way you whine. Your body reacts so wonderfully to his touch.

“You should have told me sooner; you could’ve had all of my cock before this,” you giggle at his attempt of dirty talk. It’s weird to have the proper and correct Enji speaking naughty in your ear. “Damnit, woman, will you stop laughing? I’m trying to be romantic.”

“I can’t help it. You're like Recovery Girl whenever she tries to be cool.”

“Why did you have to bring her up?” he drops his head on your navel. “Are you trying to kill my erection?”

You did a mouth zipping motion and laid your hands on his shoulders, looking down your body to catch him staring at you as he licked below your belly button. The sensation of his textured tongue against your smooth skin is almost enough to send you into your orgasm. He brings his arms up to grab your breasts in his hands as he continues to slide down to your slit. Your smaller body is completely open to him as he tongues your small clit, keeping your legs spread around your head.

“Enjiiiiii, please,” you beg for your release. The inner sadist inside of Enji preens as you beg, his mind thinking you look beautiful at his mercy with a few tears in your eyes. He plunges his tongue inside your hole, only shallowly fucking your tight hole. He brings one of his hands beside his mouth, which is an awkward position for his large frame, and pushes his finger inside your tightness till he’s met with some resistance. You’re met with wide eyes.

“You didn’t tell me you were a virgin.”

“You never asked.”

“I’m serious, Y/N. If I didn’t find out, were you just going to let me pound into you,” he smacks your thigh as a way to punish you.

“As long as it’s you, I’d let you use me like a doll,” the words incite a new type of fire in Enji’s body. He gets hotter as he enjoys the words of someone that’s completely submitted to his control.

“Then, I’ll use you till I can’t use you anymore,” he places one last kiss to your hole and slivers up your body. Everything about this moment is perfect for you; the man you love is hovering above you as he looks at you with adoration and desire.

“Are you ready?” His forehead is leaned on yours as he wavers on top of you, his cock kissing the entrance of your folds. You can’t speak due to the flowers that are lodged in your throat, so you nod as you stare into his eyes. For the first time, you can feel the love he has for you. If only this moment could last forever for you as it would for him.

The first few moments of him stretching you make you whimper in his ear, your nails cutting into his back as you try to ground yourself in the moment. He tries to push into you at a slow pace, bottoming out and sitting there for you to adjust. Your pussy clenches him like a vice, testing his self control as he wants to grab you by your waist and use you like a fuck doll.

It’s hard not to scream when he pulls back slightly and snaps his hips into your own. Both of you are breathing into each other's face as he fucks you with slow, deep thrusts, pulling your hips to meet his thrusts in an angle.

“Such a problematic woman. Couldn’t just tell me you loved me,” you whine as he sits up on his knees and begins to fuck you with fevor. His cock rubs against that spongy spot in your pussy, pushing you toward your first orgasm. “Such a bad girl. I didn’t tell you to cum yet.”

“Enjiiii please fuck please I’ll be good for you,” he smiled through the pleasure that rips through him and pulled out of you to lay on his side behind you. He wasted no time lifting one of your legs and pushed into your heat, fucking you deeper in this position. He could now see the way you try to push your hips against his, fucking you with a patronizing smile.

“Such a horny girl,” you moan into your hands as you try to hide yourself from his gaze but he rips your arms away from your face, forcing you to scream for him. He makes it a point to fuck you harder as he’s addicted to your beautiful voice. “Scream for me little girl.”

“Dadddyyy gonna cum again,” your tearing u again as he keeps brutalizing your pussy.

“Oh I’m daddy now,” he’s grunting as he feels you clench again. You give him no answer as you cum once again, this time pulling him into his orgasm as you feel him spurt deep in your womb. But, even though he cums, he doesn’t stop. He’s determined to fuck you into oblivion.

“I’m not done with you, keep cumming in my cock,” your toes keep curling as you try to push away from him. However, that makes him wrap his arms around your shoulders and slam you down on his cock, keeping your legs spread as he fucks you so hard some of his cum is dribbling down the side of his cock. You’re shaking hard as your pleasure blinds you, the pressure in your abdomen building in a different way.

“Fuuuuckkk Enjiii, I-I- love you,” clear liquid squirts from your pussy as he slows down his thrusts. You lay there in your juices with his cum splurging out of you once he pulls out of you completely. He leaves you there as he runs you a bath, leaving you to think about what just happened.

He didn’t say he loved you back but, you hoped he would. With gentle hands, he put you into your tub, softly rubbing your hair like he had done many times.

“Y/N, we need to talk,” you smiled over at him. His pants were pulled back on his hips but he couldn’t meet your eyes. “You know I care for you and you know I wouldn’t want to hurt you but, you need to get the surgery. I can’t just love you the way you love me and, I don’t want you to die because of that. I’ll pay for the surgery. I’ll pay for you a new apartment and everything. I’ll even-” you droned him out.

“You know,” you shiver in the warm water as you start to tear up. You hacked up flowers and continued with a shaky voice. “I thought that having sex with you and telling you would make it go away. I thought that maybe, just maybe, I meant more to you than what I thought. I’m such a dumbass. You’ll never love me; you’ll never love anyone but yourself. Why can’t you just be a man and tell me I’m nothing to you compared to whatever the fuck you have with Toshinori? IT’S BEEN YEARSSSS,” you croak out as you sob, your heart hurting. “AND, YOU HAVEN’T CHANGED AT ALL. You’re still the Enji Todoroki that tried to kill me. I just tricked myself into thinking that you were a different person.”

“Y/N-

“Get out,” you turn to the shower wall, too heartbroken to stomach the sight of him.

“Y/N, just listen to-”

“GET OUT,” he goes silent as he looks back at you from the door frame. He wants to say something but, the thought of ruining his future keeps him silent. He leaves with a look of pity for you.

“I’ll leave money for the surgery on the table by your bed,” he calls before he leaves, the door slamming pushing you to your last limit.

And, he left you there to you die in your bathtub alone, body worn from the sex you had with the man that you knew you couldn’t have emotionally. Your flowers soaked up the water as they kept falling, your eyes glued on one of the bruises he left on your leg. It’s too painful to try to move, so you lie there as your quirk does nothing against the disease. Getting the surgery would have saved you but, your body and mind would still remember the pain of your first and last love.

Per your request, Toshinori has your body cremated after they perform the autopsy. The young hero, grieving the loss of his best friend, doesn’t contact Enji to inform him of your timely death. He’s pained that he’ll never see you smile or hear your jokes or call your name and hear you respond. You're gone and part of him feels like he’s the blame. He can’t help but think that things would have turned out differently if he told Enji that he never cared about being the number one hero.

As for Enji, he doesn’t look back as he goes on to have his family. He goes on to marry his wife that he’d always compare to you (her hair wasn’t vibrant as yours, her voice wasn’t as smooth as yours, her eyes don’t set him ablaze like yours did). He goes on to have his kids and he wonders what they would look like if they came from your womb. He goes on to be the number one Pro-hero yet, he doesn’t feel like he’s won anything. He goes on to have a decent relationship with Toshinori yet, he feels as though he’s missing something -someone-.

“Toshinori, do you have Y/N’s number?” he called Toshinori one day, tired of letting his pride get the best of him. He’d grovel at your feet, stay by your side, sleep at your doorstep till you find it to forgive him.

“Enji, she’s dead.”

And, he sits in his house alone. His family has left him, their bonds slowly resurrecting from the dead but still fragile. His career being the only thing he has left, slowly showed him how truly unprofilling his life has been. His love for you, eating away at his heart. Why did he have to be better than Toshinori? Why couldn’t he tell you how much he loved you? Why did he let the both of you waste the days of your youth?

He coughs a single Asagao flower, the process of his unrequited love beginning. Because, let’s face it, how can you return his love if you’re dead?

——————————————————————————-

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@orokayagi @sakurashortstack @sinclairsamess

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janetbrown711 · 3 years

Note

"I'm just looking out for you" - Yakko to Wakko

Yakko wasn’t usually one for waking up in the middle of the night, but with a loud crash and a flash of light so bright Yakko thought his eyes were open, Yakko was awake in no time. With a pounding headache, he grabbed a hold of his thoughts, and realized he should check to see if his sibs were okay.

Slowly, he got up out of bed and noticed that Dot had gotten out of bed at the same time. Well, at least she was okay...

Dot looked at Yakko groggily, silently asking what had happened, but Yakko had the exact same question so they both just shrugged at each other.

“You’ll never guess what just happened!” Wakko said, standing at the end of the hall.

“Try me,” Yakko yawned.

“Okay- So I was just sitting here playing this instrument I made, right? And then I saw a Wishing Star and I thought ‘what the heck’ and so I wished on it- and then this desire fulfillment facilitator named Larry came down in this big ball of green light and told me that I can make one wish if I go out and touch the wishing star first- and then the star fell from the heavens and crashed way out there!” Wakko said without taking a single breath, and pointed past the mountains out the door. Yakko didn’t quite believe him at first, but there it was- undeniably, there was a giant star resting behind the mountains, glowing almost as bright as day.

“Okay... so?” Yakko scratched his head, still trying to wake up.

“That means I have to go to the wishing star and make my wish,” Wakko said, surprisingly chipper for this late at night/early in the morning. “And I should go right now- before anyone else notices-”

“Woah, woah, woah. Slow your roll Wakko, you need to actually go to sleep, you still haven’t gone to bed,” Yakko pointed at him. “And besides, you absolutely cannot go alone. We’re coming with you,” Yakko said, nodding at Dot.

“Yeah! We’ll take the sled! It’ll be fun!” Dot smiled.

“That’s good, I really didn’t want to go alone,” Wakko sratched the back of his neck.

“You really think we’d let you?” Yakko raised an eyebrow.

“No,” Wakko laughed a little.

“Good. Now, let’s all get back into bed and we’ll head out in the morning,” Yakko nodded at his younger siblings and they both nodded and went their separate ways.

Fortunately, Yakko had quickly been able to go back to sleep, but unfortunately, morning seemed to come in the blink of an eye. When he did finally open his eyes and prepare himself to do his daily morning check up on Dot, he was surprised to find that both Wakko and Dot were sitting on the edge of his bed staring at him so hard, he almost fell out of the bed.

“Yay! You’re awake! We can go now!” Wakko grinned. Yakko wanted to be upset, but seeing his siblings practically bouncing off the wall with positive energy couldn’t help but bring a smile to his face.

“Alright, let’s get going,” Yakko rolled his eyes, though he really didn’t mind and did it with a smile on his face.

Together, the Warner siblings ran off to the shed where Yakko had been making the sled for Dot. What made it special was the fact that it had a sail and was big enough to fit a very old and warn out mattress, and with a pillow and blanket, Dot would be able to stay warm.

Slowly, Yakko and Wakko began to push and drag it out of the shed, and Yakko noticed that by the time they had reached the town square, people were starting to watch, curious about what they were doing. Before Yakko could think to stop anyone, Wakko and Dot started telling the whole town about the wishing star, and how the first person to touch it would get their wish.

This in turn started a chain reaction where suddenly everyone in town who had some means of transportation now wanted to go to the Wishing Star themselves and make their own wish.

Yeah, they probably should’ve kept it to themselves.

Oh well, The Warners carried on and started sledding away as fast as they could, especially since they now had competition.

This was going to be an interesting trip.

.o0o.

For the longest time, Yakko, Wakko and Dot had the lead in the race. They remained steady and ahead, the wind on their side and pushing the sail of the sled right along. Plus, everyone seemed to be having a good time. Dot and Wakko were making up songs about the wishing star, and guessing what it would feel like to touch a star. Yakko stayed mostly quiet, but that was because he was still tired. How his younger siblings managed to have seemingly boundless energy was beyond him.

However, after about an hour or so in, Yakko started to get nervous as he heard the voice of none other than the Baron himself shouting orders at the Constable Ralph. However, he did his best not to focus on that, and instead join in on his siblings conversation.

“If you could wish for anything, what would. you wish for?” Yakko asked them.

“I’d wish that we could have all the time in the world with each other, and never be seperated,” Dot said with a little smile. “What about you Yakko?

“I’d wish this could’ve happened in the summer, it would’ve been a lot easier to travel through,” He chuckled, though only somewhat joking. He was the only one without any real top covering and the wind was quite cold. his siblings laughed before Dot had another coughing fit.

“If I could have a wish, it’d be for a way to pay for your surgery,” Wakko said to Dot, patting her back. Yakko nodded.

His true wish was that his siblings wouldn’t have to suffer anymore, that they could soon be in a big, warm home and want for nothing, and that everything would just be... okay. That wasn’t a lot, right?

They kept on riding.

Yakko once again faded out of the conversation, steering the sled carefully as they twisted through the mountains, and trying his best to remain fast and steady so the Baron wouldn’t catch up with them. He could only imagine what he’d do if he did, he always had it out for him and Dot when he had gotten stationed there a year ago, right after Wakko had left. And now, as he glanced back, it seemed the Baron wasn’t any happier with them now than he was then.

Yakko kept his eyes forward from there.

Instead, his eyes focus on Wakko. He looked a lot more tired than Yakko remembered him being earlier, and the more he looked at him the more he noticed. He had a new scar on his knee that Yakko hadn’t noticed before, and he was really skinny. Yakko really wished he hadn’t pushed off talking to his brother yesterday because all of this Wishing Star business was too distracting.

“Yakko! Cliff!” Dot gasped and shouted and Yakko snapped back into he moment and pulled the break slowly, if a bit roughly. With a huff, he jumped down and examined the cliff, looking straight down and remarked at how deep it was.

“Do you get vertigo?” Wakko asked his brother, coping is motion.

“Nope,” Yakko said.

“Me neither,” Wakko clearly lied.

“C’mon Wak, we’re gonna have to pull the sled across,” The elder brother said, looking at the rickety bridge. Hopefully it’d survive the weight of the sled...

“Just- be careful and watch your step. We don’t want the bridge to break, understood?” Yakko said.

“Wouldn’t that slow everyone else down though?” Wakko asked with a sly grin.

“Wakko, no,” Yakko scolded, but couldn’t help but think that was a pretty good idea...

No. After this they’d have to head back to Acme Falls anyway, they needed the bridge.

“Just watch your step, and help me pull,” Yakko said.

Yakko had prepared for a situation like this, as he took out two pieces of rope and tied it to the sled. Then, he and Wakko started to pull. Yakko cringed when the bridge creaked under their feet, but they kept pulling anyway.

“Please don’t break, please don’t break, please don’t-”

Wakko cried out as the board gave way and he fell. Yakko’s eyes widened and he dropped the rope and rushed to help and relaxed a bit when he saw Wakko had maintained the grip on the rope.

“I-is he okay?” Dot gripped her blanket tightly.

“He’s holding on- it’s alright Dot,” Yakko said. “Wakko, hold on, I’m gonna pull you up,” He said to his little brother, who nodded and held on for dear life. Yakko could a deep breath, summoning all of his inner strength and slowly pulled his brother back onto the bridge.

“Phew, that was close, huh?” Wakko joked nervously, but Yakko’s face twitched.

“’That was close’??? That’s all you have to say???” Yakko was baffled, and mad, the swirl of emotions returning.

“I-”

“Wakko, You can’t just- You almost just-” Yakko sighed. “We need to keep moving.” Yakko gave up and stood and picked up the rope and started to pull again. Wakko looked at him apologetically and started pulling again too.

Eventually, they reached solid ground and Yakko was relieved to feel the snow crunch underneath his feet. Yakko then looked over at his brother and saw he guilty look on his face and realized he probably shouldn’t have snapped like that. Wakko started to head back onto the sled but Yakko stopped him by touching his shoulder.

“I’m sorry Wakko, I shouldn’t have gotten mad. It wasn’t your fault, I was just... trying to look out for you. I’m sorry,” Yakko said.

“I’m sorry Yakko, I should’ve been more careful,” Wakko bit his lip. Yakko gave his brother a quick hug before getting behind the sled and giving it the push it needed to continue onward.

However, everyone’s head turned when they heard a loud crack of a whip and they noticed the Baron was right behind them. Yakko frowned in determination and tried to make the sled go faster. However, apparently, the Baron didn’t want to play fairly as literal missiles were fired from his carriage.

“Geez, I always knew the guy was insane, but really?!” Yakko scoffed as he made a sharp turn to avoid them and they exploded against the mountain.

“That guy’s a maniac!” Wakko growled.

“You said it,” Yakko agreed, looking back to see Plotz sticking his head out of his window and growling at them.

He then shot three more missiles at them, but with careful navigation skills, all of them just went through trees instead.

Was this where all of their tax money was going to???

Dot and Wakko blew raspberries at Plotz, which only seemed to anger him, but Yakko laughed anyway.

However, the Baron’s next attack was much more effective, as a cannonball shot through and ripped their sail.

Yakko’s eyes widened when he realized that wasn’t the last one and that the next one was aimed at their heads.

“DUCK!!!” He shouted and dived at his sibs, and as they did the next cannon fired and took down the mast of the sled entirely. At least they still had their heads...

Still, it was clear Plotz was starting to lose his sanity, as he just kept firing cannonballs at them, which he kept getting worse and worse at aiming, so at least they also had that going for them.

Soon enough, there was a three-way division in the road, and Yakko made a last-second turn to the farthest one to the left, leaving the Baron behind Dr. Scratchnsniff and Hello Nurse’s elixir cart- how they managed to get ahead yet behind the warners was beyond them.

Still, Plotz was no longer attacking them, so Yakko finally relaxed.

However, the world seemed to hate Yakko, and as soon as they relaxed there was a loud explosion and shouts from the people on the other path, and Yakko just hoped Plotz didn’t kill anyone. Eventually, all three of the roads became one and Yakko got a good look at what had happened, but honestly couldn’t explain it.

Hello Nurse’s horse had in his teeth a strange device that held those weird mice he had rarely seen in Acme Falls but knew existed, as well as three pigeons, while Rita, Runt, Mindy’s dog Buttons and Mindy herself, The Doctor and Hello Nurse were all drinking their elixir drink and apparently must’ve had some kind of breakthrough two seconds ago because it wasn’t terrible. Yakko was curious about that, but they didn’t have time to stop, the Wishing Star was growing closer.

However, things went from strange to worse, when a loud crack went through the mountains, and everyone froze and turned their heads to find out that the worst had happened-

An avalanche.

Everyone scrambled back into their vehicles and raced away as fast as possible. Yakko glanced at his siblings, who were looking up at him nervously, hoping for encouraging words.

“J-just- hold on, it’ll be okay, we’ll make it. I know it,” he said, lying. In all honesty, the sled was losing momentum and if they stopped they were screwed.

Yakko did his best to keep his eyes forward so as to not see the snow getting closer and closer, knowing there wasn’t much they could do. They had to make it to the Wishing Star- they just did.

However, the world didn’t seem to hate him- it did, and soon the sled was lifted from behind by the snow and Yakko Wakko and Dot were knocked out and into the snow.

Yakko didn’t hesitate to dig up with all his fury and might, despite the pounding in his head and the soreness of his arms. He was not going to die like this, no siree. He had a job to do and that job was to protect his sibs by any means necessary, not leave them to die in an avalanche in the mountains.

Finally, he breached the surface and gasped for air and relief when he saw Wakko had already made it up. However, relief turned to panic when he couldn’t find Dot. He dug around him frantically, pleading that she was okay.

After a minute of panic and worry, Dot finally popped her head out of the snow and Yakko cried in relief. He dug the rest of his body out of the snow and lifted Dot out and gave her a bone-crushing hug, which Dot was too weak to return, coughing quite a bit. Still, Yakko didn’t care, she was okay.

“Look! The Wishing Star!” Wakko pointed and the other Warner sibs turned their head.

Yep, there it was. Yakko and Dot couldn’t help but “ooh” and “ahh” at it’s beauty and size. The thing was massive.

“Well, what’re we waiting for?” Yakko asked, setting Dot down but still holding her hand. Wakko grinned and held his brother’s other hand.

They made it- they had actually made it. Yakko had doubted a little bit back there, but it was actually happening. Sure, they no longer had a sled and had barely managed to survive but they were here and-

“Hello, Warners.”

That voice. That- face-

King Salazar.

Yakko wound up to sucker punch the king right in the face, but soon he and his sibs were surrounded by guards with guns aiming right at their faces. His siblings gasped and clung to him for safety, and Yakko hugged them both. He looked around and saw the other citizens of Acme Falls were getting the same treatment.

“Secure the area!” The king shouted at his troops and soon everyone was dragged off to a camp/fort the king had set up just for them. Yakko gulped nervously as he held his sibs close.

“Y-yakko is everything gonna be okay?” Dot asked nervously.

“I don’t know sibs... I really don’t know...” Yakko merely whispered, not having the strength to say much else.

“ATTENTION!” One guard shouted and everyone turned their heads. “All hail the mighty King Salazar!”

Yakko wanted nothing more than to kick his teeth in.

“That’s King Saladbar? He looks so ugly,” Wakko blabbed without thinking.

“I know right? You’d think with all the money he takes from poor innocent orphans he’d be more fashionable than said orphan,” Dot flaunted her own outfit. Yakko snickered and internally facepalmed at the same time, but the joy he felt left when the King’s eyes fell upon them.

“Plotz!” The King shouted for his loyal tax collector. Yakko gripped his sibling’s hands a little harder.

“Y-yes, your majesty?” Plotz bowed.

“I thought I told you to get rid of the little monsters, they’re still alive.” The king said, and Yakko felt a chill run down his spine.

Apparently, the King didn’t let go of grudges, go fig.

“I-i did my best s-sir,” Plotz said, glancing at the Warners and if Yakko wasn’t full of hatred for the man he’d almost feel pity for him.

“You failed me Plotz,” Salazar shook his head. “Lock him up with the rest of the prisoners. Same for the Constable and those rats with wings.” He snapped his fingers and they were dragged into the line with the rest of the people of Acme Falls.

“As for the Warner...” The king looked at them maliciously.

“Execute them.”

Yakko’s stomach fell to the floor.

Execution.

Them.

This couldn’t be happening.

He had to get them out of this, and fast.

“Ahhhhh, you don’t have to treat us special,” Yakko said, trying to put on a brave face.

“Oh, but I insist,” Salazar grinned, and a guard hit him with his gun to get him moving. Yakko growled and tried to think more, when it hit him.

“Okay Saladbar, have it your way,” Yakko shouted. “But we know secrets about the star that you dont~” He teased.

“We do?” Wakko tilted his head and Yakko elbowed him.

“I-i mean- Yeah we do!” Wakko grinned at the king.

“Like what? Tell me,” The king stomped over and demanded.

“Uh-huh. Well... perhaps we can come to some sort of agreement,” Yakko suggested, teasingly. The King thought about it for a minute and nodded.

“Fine, I’ll take you back to the castle, and you will tell me the secrets of the Wishing Star. Guards, take them away.” Salazar waved his hand after giving the new order and the Warners were dragged over to a cart where they sat, surrounded by guards and waited to be taken to the castle.

“But Yakko, the Wishing Star doesn’t have any secrets,” Dot whispered.

“I know, but he doesn’t know that. It’ll buy us some time to escape and let Wakko make his wish,” Yakko whispered back and his sibs nodded.

Good, at least now they had some semblance of a plan and weren’t being marched off to their doom. Still, things were looking kind of bleak, and Yakko just prayed he could think of something soon and fast.

It quite literally was a matter of life and death.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

#animaniacs #long post #my fics #yakko wakko and dot #wakkos wish #yakko warner #dot warner #wakko warner #this one is a long one boysssss #we in the movie for realz now #this took a long time #sorry for the delay lol #had an anxiety attack last night #anyway yeah #enjoy

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uwu-shinsou · 4 years

Note

First,,,, CONGRATS ON 500 BB!! YOU DESERVED IT!! And uhhh if it's not much a bother can I request Shinsou Hitoshi with 6 and 13 (if it's alright! If youre not comfortable with doing it you can do whatever youre comfortable with, I care abt your well being more than the fic that Im requesting) and I dont really uh care if its hc or a drabble or smth cuz im inlove with anything and everything that you make! Again congrats! Have a nice day :))

Title: Whatever You Say

Prompt: Accidental Text, Hate-to-Love

Warning(s): Mild language

Pairing: Shinsou Hitoshi X Gender Neutral!Reader

Genre: Drabble, working through feelings

Word Count: 1.3K

A/N: THANK YOU ISSA!! 🥺💖I’m so glad you requested!! Bc I’m trying to keep these shorter like “drabbles” I had a hard time doing like,, full on hate to love so this is more like resentment to friends with implications of hidden feelings?? AHAHA but uhhh yeah, I hope you all enjoy 🥺and in case you missed it, my last year of college has started, so I will be updating less frequently, but I will still be around and writing and vibing!🤗

500 Event Masterlist

✿ .✿ .✿ .✿ .✿

Oh shit.

You flew down the hall, bursting into Kaminari’s bedroom without knocking. The blonde sat up quickly at your intrusion, but relaxed slightly upon seeing it was you.

“What’s up speed racer?” He joked, folding his legs up to make room for you on the bed. You walked up to the side of the bed, dropping your knees on the edge and falling forward face-down onto the covers.

“I messed up, Denki,” You groaned, rolling over onto your back and staring at the ceiling. “I sent a text to Shinsou-”

He let out a little snort. “Now that’s unusual.”

“Yeah,” You agreed. “Because it was a text that was not meant for him.”

“It couldn’t have been that bad, right?” He asked, now a little nervous. You couldn’t blame him. You and Kaminari had clicked instantly at the beginning of your first year at U.A., and now you’d pretty much consider him your best friend, and you his. But come the end of first year, with the trial and following announcement that Shinsou Hitoshi, general ed student, would be transfering into the hero course- and more specifically- your class, Kaminari Denki had seemed to collect himself yet another best friend.

And you had made your first rival.

You hadn’t wanted to. But when you had first heard about Shinsou’s quirk, people couldn’t help but compare it to yours. As long as you maintained skin to skin contact, you could command another person to do anything that you wanted. Paired with your athletic background (which started when you were young, at the insistence of your parents that it’d “prepare you for hero training”) you were clearly the superior “mind control” student. You didn’t understand why another one was needed in the hero course. Wasn’t he just fine being in the general course?

But of course he had to join class 2A, become Aizawa’s favorite, and start to steal the attention of your best friend.

But Kaminari was his own person, and he made his own choices about when he hung out with the two of you. It really wasn’t fair to put him in the middle of your mess of feelings. And even though he was Shinsou’s friend, you knew he would keep your secrets.

You turned onto your side to look at him. “Here just- read this.” You shoved your phone at him. He took it in his hand, his face contorting into a grimace as he read your mistake once, twice, three times.

“...Why the hell did you send him this?” You slapped your hands against your face in embarrassment and despair. He mockingly cleared his throat. “‘Can you believe purple hair beat me in today’s exercise? Why does he have to basically have my quirk? If he wasn’t so hot I’d be really pissed.’” Kaminari let out a whistle. “Wow, now there is a lot to unpack here, hun.”

You winced. “Yeah, that text was supposed to go to Mina, but I mean- fucking hell, I don’t know?” You ran your hands over your face. “I guess I somehow just clicked the wrong contact and instead it went to him! And it’s even worse that he hasn’t responded about it yet.” You’d never outright said to Shinsou that you disliked him, but you had to assume he knew, and felt the same way about you.

“I didn’t know you thought he was hot,” Kaminari said, wiggling his eyebrows. You launched a pillow at him that he ducked.

“C’mon, anyone with a brain can see that he’s attractive,” You muttered. “It’s the same as Todoroki, or maybe Bakugou if you took away some of the attitude.”

He let out a sigh. “Yeah you’re right.” After a moment of silence he pressed your phone back into your hand. “Anyways, I think the best approach would be to sort it out face to face. Texting can make things too muddled sometimes.”

“Since when did you have so much wisdom?”

He nudged you with a knee. “Hey, there’s a reason you came running to me.”

“I suppose you’re right.” It’ll probably be really awkward and not fun, but you should try to explain yourself in person.

Which is how you found yourself on the outskirts of the woods by the dorm buildings watching Shinsou workout, your presence still unnoticed as his back was turned to you. Kaminari had directed you here, knowing that his friend often trained here on his own.

Suddenly he relaxed his stance, speaking without turning around. “What, you got more to say to me than what was in that text?”

You gritted your teeth at his words. What is up with his attitude!? “Yeah, well maybe I do.” You crossed your arms, shifting most of your weight onto one foot.

Shinsou glanced over his shoulder. “Sucks for you, I’m busy.” He reached down to the ground and slung his towel over his shoulder. “Since my quirk is clearly inferior to yours, I need to keep training.” You winced slightly at his words.

“Hey, I never said it like that-”

“Yeah, well you didn’t have to.” He sighed before turning to face you fully. “Look, I get it, you feel like I’m trying to take your spot here at U.A. Well just- don’t worry about it, okay? I’ll stay out of your way.”

As he began walking away, you found yourself stepping after him. “Shinsou, it’s not fair to phrase it that way.”

He stopped and turned to face you once more. “What do you know about ‘not fair’?” Shinsou took a step closer to you. “‘Not fair’ is getting into the general class, only to see someone just like me being praised for their power in the hero course. ‘Not fair’ is working as hard as I can to make my dreams come true, only to find out that I still have to compete against you. ‘Not fair’ is wanting to so desperately hate you for it all, but I can’t. Not when I see your strength, your power, your drive and ambition, and I can’t help but admire it. Admire you.” He let out a soft snort of mock amusement to himself. “I do kind of hate you for that, though.”

You stood there in silence. What do I even say to that? Shinsou watched you warily, waiting for a reaction.

“I don’t hate you, not really,” You said slowly. As good a place to start as any. “Resented you, yes, but hate is a strong word.” As you continued talking, your mouth let more and more words spill out, words you didn’t even know you had wanted to say. “And yeah, I was worried that you’d ‘take my spot’ or whatever, but I think that was the competitive nature of this school getting to me. They support friendly competition between students, but maybe I took that too much to heart.” You toed at the ground, slowly looking up to meet his eyes. “I was worried about you joining our class because I think you have amazing control over your quirk and you’re really talented. You really do have the potential to be an incredible hero. And I think… I’d like it better if we were friends, instead of pitting ourselves against each other.”

As you waited for Shinsou’s response, you started to get antsy. Why do I care so much about what he’s going to say?

Finally he answered. “Alright. Friends is a good place to start.” He held his hand out to you, as if to shake on it. Hesitatingly you reached out, your fingers firmly grasping his. He tightened his grip. “Should we also acknowledge that you said I was hot in your text?”

His words brought on a wave of nerves, and you yanked your hand back as if it were on fire. “That- That was a typo!” He began walking back towards the dorms with you hurrying to catch up to him.

As you matched his stride, he huffed out a laugh and sent you a knowing smile. “Sure, whatever you say.”

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fishylife · 3 years

Text

Thoughts on Street Dance of China 4 episode 2

(Aka Fishy is screencapping shows again. I’m screencapping straight from Youtube so sorry for the shoddy cut off screencaps but blame Youtube for having their player bar cover the video. I’ve never understood that because it’s always in the way.)

(Also Episode 2 part 1 is really just “How many times can Han Geng and Henry hug” and the answer is “as many times as they want”)

- Not really sure why Henry chose Anissa and Tuzi for the 2 vs. 2 battle, especially since Anissa was really not confident about it :( I felt really bad for Anissa because she seemed super nervous!!!!! I just hope that she doesn’t lose enthusiasm and that she can continue to enjoy the rest of the competition v.v

- Kelo and Uwa were extremely impressive though. Like, the way they move together is so awesome and cool.

- Among the dancers, Xiao Jie is actually really good at speaking. No wonder he gets interviewed a lot, because he’s able to describe the dancers to us layfolk, but he is also very smiley and entertaining.

- How dare Yixing be this cute 😤😤😤 He’s definitely far more relaxed when he’s just a spectator, that’s for sure. He was laughing at all the jokes and awkward moments and generally so much more animated when just part of the sidelines.

- Henry covering his mouth because he was enjoying Xiaohai’s performance was pretty cute too, not gonna lie.

- I liked San’er from episode 1, so I was cheering for him when he participated in the 3 vs. 3 battle lol. But it was really interesting to hear the conversation when Wang Yibo asked his team why San’er lost the battle. Ye Yin and Liangliang told him that to the judges who are old school, they care less for explosiveness, and more for actual skill, and while San’er’s performance might’ve looked really exciting to the average viewer, that’s not what the old school judges look for.

- So apparently Lil Kev plays a lot of mind games, and we saw that during his battle against Bozi. So he’s like...the Brad Marchand of breaking lol.

- Are...are we gonna comment on this hug between Poppin’C and Xiaohai? Lmao

- What are they being so cute for. (Also don’t @ me but Bunta is....really cute)

- Is it just me, or did we get fewer behind-the-scenes practice clips this time for Han Geng vs. Henry compared to Yixing vs. Yibo? Particularly for the 5 vs. 5 battle.

- Dimple alert. (Sorry I know this is a Han Geng vs. Henry battle but Yixing just looks so freaking cute today)

- Han Geng.....has a really soft and gentle voice (it is simping hours up in the fishy house okay). He speaks particularly quietly during his one-person interviews and his voice is so pleasant to listen to in those clips.

- Henry was talking about how he wanted to do that move with Poppin’C where they’d lean back on each other’s knees and do a wave with their arms. For some reason that move struck me as something that was very Henry like. He just strikes me as the kind of guy who uses a lot of waves and smooth-looking moves in his dances.

- Also lol @ Henry being “non fatigue!” That Ontario French curriculum at work.

- Han Geng and Henry trash talking each other except it just turns into a walk down memory lane about how Han Geng used to take care of Henry.

- Don’t even act surprised, y’all knew I was going to screenshot this.

- Kitty is amused.

- Of course Han Geng would end his routine with a big ol’ hug. What a huge softie.

- I did think that Han Geng and Xiaohai were kind of a rough duo because even if they were in sync, it was hard to tell because of the height difference. Actually, I spent a lot more time focusing on Han Geng, especially towards the end when the rest of the team crowded around them and he was visibly one of the taller ones.

- Henry’s move where he stood on Poppin’C’s thighs was super cool!! His performance was just super fun to watch. I felt like I was having a good time along with them haha.

- Please sir, may I have more hugs?

- I think Han Geng and Xiaohai’s second performance was better because it relied less on being in sync performing the same actions. However, at this point, Poppin’C and Henry have kind of created a specific brand (TM) for themselves, like they are so uniquely charming to watch, so they have firmly won me over Han Geng and Xiaohai’s team.

- Running into a hug? Are you kidding me, Lau Hin-wah???

- More

- Not only is this show cashing in on the Suju/Suju M fans, it is definitely going to pull in new fans with the Han Geng/Henry ship lol.

- Yixing spinning to get up.

- It is just so goddamn natural for them to be so close to each other. Also Han Geng said that his waist is feeling iffy from that popping ^^;; Old man joints

- Lifting Han Geng’s shirt to look at his patch...

- One of the dancers on Han Geng’s team was crying because he made a mistake in the 5 vs. 5 battle and Han Geng is like why are you crying? And gave him a playful slap on the shoulder.

- Why is that the ads done by the dancer contestants are so much more entertaining than the professional ads (the ads with mainstream celebrities or with professional actors).

- Henry’s written the pinyin on top of the Chinese names of his team members. Better safe than sorry, you know?

- Lmao how dare they bully Tengzai and Shitou by making them talk XD

- I think that when Henry assigns his team members to certain battles, he is thinking more about the combination of styles, rather than the skill level or synchronization. When he assigned Anissa and Tuzi to the 2 vs. 2 battle, he wanted to try out the East vs. West approach, but the opposing duo of Kelo and Uwa had a lot more history together and were obviously better as a collective unit. When it came to Chen Mo and Waiwai, he was interested in seeing a waacking duo. In theory I think I know what Henry was trying to imagine, but I think it is difficult to have a really intense waacking duo because it’d be hard to synchronize very high speed arm movements. In the end, they went with some moves that were simpler, and I think that’s why they lost out to Tengzai and Shitou. That being said, Henry did win his first battle against Han Geng. I think it’s just the 2 vs 2 battles that are his weakness. The 3 vs. 3 battles are really just individual battles, and the 5 vs. 5 battles are usually made up of dancers who are used to routine group dances as opposed to solo or duo dancers.

- A quick word about the judge Icee. His name in Chinese is 王冰冰. The 冰冰 part is self explanatory enough (冰 means ice), so where does the 王 come from? I read somewhere (I forgot where), but apparently his wife’s surname is 王, so he just took on her surname for his Chinese name. Don’t know how true that is, but I think that’s cute.

- So often I see Bunta and Ibuki having fun and cheering on other people, whether it’s their own team members or dancers on other teams.

- Less than a second flashback of Zitao from a previous season v.v Please producers...let us have a LayTao reunion....please....I beg....

- The 5 vs. 5 battle between Yixing and Henry’s teams was pretty fun to watch, probably because the song was so hype lol.

- The leader battles between Yixing and Henry were really entertaining too though.

- The first piece of music for Henry and Yixing’s leader battles was very very cool. Like, it was just a nice piece of music to listen to, and I think that the kind of music it was gave way to rather creative interpretations. Henry and Han Yu went for a more story-based approach, whereas Yixing and MT Pop focused more on an aesthetic. I preferred Yixing and MT Pop’s performance here.

- Henry and Han Yu also had a pretty solid performance for the second song. As for Mingming and Gumball, they didn’t really perform “together,” because they were both doing their own thing, but their individual performances were interesting. (Also let us acknowledge, nothing gets Yixing turnt like KRUMP XD He was so into the performance haha)

- I was so caught up in the euphoria of Henry/Han Geng that I forgot that Henry and Yixing also had a past history, but I think their friendship probably mostly existed off screen. They were from different groups after all, but we also know how low key Yixing has always been. Even if they were bffs we never would’ve known. I also remember on Back to Field, Yixing said that Henry helped him install and set up his music software, so they probably have some kind of rapport on the music side. But yeah, it just seemed like Yixing was rather formal about it all, calling Henry his 哥哥/前輩. And Henry seemed to look at Yixing like his son lol. He was like oh look at Yixing and how far he’s come, etc.

- Xiao Jie said that he’d battled Hilty & Bosch 14 years ago, which means that Xiao Jie isn’t that young, which may be why he’s so chill lmao. Anyway, Xiao Jie is a very entertaining dancer to watch, and he worked well with Shen Zihao. But of course, HB are formidable themselves as well and their chemistry is just too too good. And they’re just incredibly clean dancers.

- Yibo went over to Han Geng to scope out who he was going to send out for their battle. Xiao Jie tried to warn Han Geng about this but he was too late and Yibo already made his attack. But the entire interaction between Yibo and Han Geng was so lols because it was so strange lmao. Yibo was straight up like “who are you going to send out during the battle?” And Han Geng kept thinking that Yibo was trying to play mind games and use that to gleam other information from him. So Han Geng’s answer ended up being really confusing too, he was like “if that’s what you’ve decided I’ll follow your lead.” The thing about Han Geng is that he is too senior for Yibo to clown on, so he is actually being serious, and Han Geng is trying to keep things light haha. (I think Yibo would totally be his normal gremlin self to Yixing and Henry, but Han Geng is like the next tier up from them both.)

- LMAO Aki-san calling out Tony-san for being older than him XD And Tony Gogo was like what have I ever done to you??? I love Aki-san hahahaha.

- Okay Aki-san vs. Nelson was pretty awesome, but SO WAS BORIS vs. ZYKO???? Holy crap that was sooo much fun to watch because like....human bodies can bend that way? And Boris and Zyko aren’t small guys, so it was insanely awesome to watch.

- Side note, Boris’ Mandarin is pretty good. I looked him up and on his Instagram he says he lives in Shanghai, so it makes sense that his Chinese is good enough for everyday communication. In one part of the show he was instruction Yibo on dancing and like, he was not stuttering at all.

- Wait, Han Geng says that he’s known Yibo for 10 years :o So I just looked him up and it turns out Han Geng has been with Yuehua Entertainment since 2010, so I think the math makes sense. Wow, how time flies. He always such a dad though, he’s always like, the top priority is fun and happiness!!! And honestly, he’s right. Like, what is this show if not just a huge dance showcase more than an actual competition?

- Physically impossible for Han Geng not to hug his didis.

- I love that in a dance party full of dancers, some will still choose to slow dance like this.

- Of course Henry will come and praise his gege. (ft. Nelson in the right lol)

- Yo I love Rochka. He’s one of the chillest guys there.

- The kids’ performance was cute :3 Their little jumpsuits uwu

- Also one of the kids was Shitou’s daughter and it was absolutely hilarious how he still introduces her in the most monotonous and neutral voice and he was like “please give her some encouragement” in the most low energy voice ever XD The b-boying kids were super legit though. Oh and apparently Xiao Jie’s son was one of the dancers too :3 Somebody was like “yo Xiao Jie isn’t that your son?” and he was like “lol yeah.” XD Aren’t they cute?

#thinking out loud #cvariety #street dance of china #screencaps

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 3 years

Text

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 165 prt2

Keith took a long and shaky breath, gripping the counter as he slowly released it. The world didn’t deserve Mami and her love

“I miss her. Lance took me to her grave. I didn’t know what to say. I don’t know what to say to dad”

“He adored you. You don’t have to say anything if you don’t feel like it. You can be there and see his grave, or you can be there and remember he always loved you”

“I don’t really remember him and what I think I remember I don’t know if it’s real or if I’ve tricked myself into believing that my thoughts are memories”

“He loved you. When you were a baby, he’d spend hours cradling you. You’d cry and cry when he wasn’t. There’s no particular way you have to feel about things. You won’t know how you feel until you’re standing in front his grave”

“Mum, if you knew... why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I did think to include it in the letter I wrote to you, but... maybe selfishly I wanted you to ask me to go with you to see him. I don’t know if I have the courage to go alone”

Keith wrapped his arms around himself. Krolia wanted to go with him. Keith couldn’t quite remember who was doing what and coming for the trip with him

“Shiro’s supposed to be coming. I can’t ask him to come when he should be with Curtis. I’m worried about Lance, too. His pregnancy is stable right now. I’m scared we’ll be too far from help if something happens”

“Then why don’t you postpone it?”

Keith didn’t want to. Not after waiting years, but what was the point of taking his lover to meet his father if Lance couldn’t be there. The same went for Shiro, he couldn’t introduce his brother if his brother wasn’t there

“I’ve waited years to find his grave. I don’t even remember the place we grew up, other than dad’s shack. Do you know if it’s still standing?”

“I own the deed to the land, I brought it when... your father passed, but no. I haven’t been there in some time”

Krolia wanted him to ask her, but Keith couldn’t ask until he knew what was going to happen with his brother. He felt he still needed that buffer between him and his mother, lest they get into an argument and stop talking for another 20ish years

“I’m only going to work this out talking to Shiro”

“That’s what I’ve been saying. Have a good talk and a think. There’s still hours until morning”

“Yeah. Night, mum”

“Night, Keith”

Keith felt foolish as he stood at the doorway to the living room and called out to Shiro that he wanted to talk in a whisper yell. Of course his mother was right. Shiro was awake, his brother letting out a muffled curse as he kicked what Keith assumed to be the coffee table trying to sneak out the room. Following him out to the back door, the motion sensor flicked on, blinding both of them momentarily. The light spilling from the kitchen barely registered in the darkness of the rest house.

Keith regretted not bring his phone, the chances of cow crap too high to risk sitting in the grass, leaving them to sit on the paving which really wasn’t the same

“Keith?”

Dropping his head against his brother’s shoulder, the cold was already seeping through his underwear and Lance’s robe

“I want to help and I don’t know how”

“Help with what, kiddo?”

“Curtis. I know he isn’t okay. I know he’s getting worse. I’m worried about you and I want to help, but I don’t know how”

“I don’t know how to help Curtis either”

The omission by his brother hung in the air. Keith knew that feeling sucked hard. Lance suffered so much and he didn’t know if he really did make things better the way Lance claimed he did

“We don’t want to postpone getting the demon out of him”

Shiro snarked, taking the words wrong

“I know he gave you a scare, but...”

“That’s not it. I mean, yeah, he did, but for his sake I want to get this demon out of him already. He must be going through so much right now. And you. I know... you went through a lot with me, stuff I didn’t even realise. I want you to get your happy ending too, you know?”

Wrapping his arm around him, Shiro rested his head on Keith’s as he got comfortable

“Who said you could go grow up on me like this?”

“Pretty sure you’re to blame”

“I wouldn’t say it was me”

“I would. That’s why I want to help. Lance wants to help too. Mum called Coran today, I think she told him we should summon out the demon as soon as possible... but he’s your boyfriend. I don’t know what you’re going through”

“Keith, I think you’re just about the only person who does. Today’s the second time he’s been violent. The first time he threw a glass across the apartment when I asked him why the tap was running. I sure know how to pick them”

“You love Curtis. He loves you too. A lot of things Lance said made sense to me. About maybe the demon has it’s own ego. It’s sharing a body with Curtis and the strain has to be next level on both of them. What can we do to help?”

Keith felt something wet on his scalp. It took him a long moment and a half to click. Oh... Shiro was crying. His brother’s body barely shook, the shivers running through him easily mistaken for shivering in the cold

“You’re my brother, and my family. Whatever you need, I want to be here for you. Expect if you need to practice your awful jokes because they’re awful, you can borrow Lance for that”

“I like to think I’m hilarious”

“I know you do. What do we do now? Lance is totally up for a little lie if you need some time or some help”

“I can’t run from this”

“It’s not running, it’s relying on us. None of want Curtis feeling bad for things he can’t control”

“We were supposed to be postponing the summoning to see your dad”

“I know, and I don’t want to not go see him now I know where he is. I also want my brother there with me”

“That means delaying either the summoning or the trip”

“Maybe... we should go after the summoning? Take Curtis with us and give him a few days to get used to everything?”

“Coran needs to keep him for observation. We don’t know what messing with his soul will do. For all the shit we’ve hunted, this is still out there. Talking about demons and souls”

“Technically Coran and Allura are both fae which means they’re technically demons...”

Both brothers fell silent as they considered that fact. Keith knew Coran was powerful as fuck. Humanity was lucky to have him on their side. The same went with Allura. She could be scary as hell when she was angry. Shiro hugged him tighter

“I don’t know. I don’t know how Lance can be so calm after today. I know Curtis didn’t trip but he still tried to cover for him. Even after what happened to the nursery wall”

“With the amount of time Lance has tripped on the stairs, he’s a total pro at fixing the walls”

“I don’t know if you’re bragging or if you wish Lance wasn’t quite so clumsy”

“I thought it was the glasses but he’s just as clumsy without them. It’s like he enjoys randomly attacking things with his head”

“He gets that from you. How’s your head feeling?”

“Sore. You’d think it’d be harder after all the times I got hit there”

“If it’s still sore we should probably have Coran check you out”

“Nah, it’ll be fine. We still haven’t decided what to do”

“I was looking forward to seeing the nursery painted”

So was Keith. Once the paint was up they could work on the furniture. Once the furniture was together that’d be a huge weight off Lance’s mind. He’d clear forgotten about his brother coming to help in the wake of Lance’s sisters popping up

“You know... if you’re awake and I’m awake... we could finish that competition”

“You mean the one where I totally won for the most paint on the wall? It’s the middle of the night”

“And? I’m pretty sure Lance would have done all his home repairs whenever the fuck he felt like it”

“You want to paint the nursery?”

Keith didn’t know what to do. Shiro was crying, and he couldn’t fix that pain for him. Lance had been right though, though it wasn’t that unusual and his advice directed towards Curtis. Shiro also needed to see that a broken wall could be fixed and that in the scheme of things it wasn’t something worth tears over. While Lance had wanted to do the nursery together, he doubted his boyfriend would mind terribly if they finished the job they’d started that morning

“Nah, I want to finish kicking your old arse”

“My old arse? Says the man dating a vampire”

“Lance is timeless. Plus, he’s said it before and I think it’s kind of maybe true, that he feels some of his mental growth was stunted by turning so young. Like, the only old man thing about him is he love of lawnmowers and evenly cut grass”

“He does love lawn. How does he feel about bush?”

Keith shoved Shiro back playfully

“That’s... no! Shiro, no”

Shiro chuckled

“It was begging to be said”

“No, it really wasn’t. God, you’re making me think about that pick up line”

“Which one?”

There was only one he could think of off the top of his head

“Fallen over a stump lately? How about a root?”

“No thanks. I’m taken”

Keith realised he’d walked right into that one, groaning at his brother. Why did he do this to himself? Why did Shiro have to be so damn weird?

#once bitten twice stupid #oncebittentwicestupid #ashratherose

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mythgirlimagines · 3 years

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DVHS Director’s Cut

Aka my favorite moments from each update, both funny and serious ones!

Don’t read if you haven’t finished reading yet!

Prologue

Waking up from a dream is disorienting when you don’t even know you’re sleeping. It’s even more disorienting when the only thing I can see when I open my eyes is black, sort of swirling. There’s almost no difference between my eyes being open or shut. I can’t describe it in as many words, not in any language I know. It’s negro, noir, schwarz. Black as far as I can see. Nothing more.

I open my mouth to scream, to cry out, to say anything, but my vocal chords refuse to work, even though I can feel the strain I’m putting on them. I can’t reach my hand up to grab my throat, I can’t kick out to see where I am. Nothing moves when I want it to. I can barely feel myself breathe at all. I can’t do anything but blink, which gives me no reprieve from the darkness, and try to scream. Am I still dreaming? Did I even wake up?

Somewhere to my side, though I can’t tell exactly where, someone laughs a distinct, peculiar laugh. Wait- I know that laugh. I- I need to get away! It comes closer as I try to struggle harder, to get away, anything. I can’t do anything!

The laughter stops as I feel the figure looming over me. I feel myself start to hyperventilate, black splotches laying over the black in front of me. This is how I die, isn’t it?

And, as though I hadn’t been awake at all, I fall back into unconsciousness.

1-1

“It’d be a lot easier if you pitched in a little,” Rikimaru gripes, somehow maneuvering two chairs over at once in her heels. I’m pretty sure she could stab someone with those.

...No. No murder thoughts.

“You all seem like you have it,” he says instead, the barest hint of a smirk on his lips. I roll my eyes, and perchance they land on Yoshida. She makes an all-bark, no-bite gesture towards him, and I have to stifle my laugh, especially as she quickly flips him off once his back is turned.

1-2

Ueda stays silent but busy for another minute, maybe ensuring that he’s gone. Once she’s certain, she sets down the paper plates and leans heavily on the table. Her shoulders shake violently. “Ueda?”

“I can’t do this.” It comes out as a whisper. Thanks to her hair, I can’t see her eyes behind her glasses. “The killing game is going to start, and we can do nothing to stop it.” Suddenly, her head jerks up, fearful tears brimming in her eyes. “Ishikawa...I’m terrified.”

I’m struck. Quite honestly, I have no idea what to do. What is someone supposed to do when a friend is having an emotional meltdown because of a killing game?

Not to mention, I didn’t think I’d ever see Ueda like...this. Devoid of confidence, crumbling like pastry dough. I could soothe her in any language, but words alone will do nothing. That leaves only one language.

I approach until I’m standing right in front of her. I wrap my arms around her and hold her tightly. She buries her head between my neck and shoulder, her tears staining my shirt. As tight as I’m holding her, she holds me tighter, still trembling, almost desperate. I am her grounding force, keeping her from panicking even more. Slowly, her heart rate drops back to normal, matching my steady beat. I rub her back gently, resting my chin on her shoulder- something I wouldn’t be able to do if she weren’t hunched over. I hold her close until she lets go, wiping her eyes under her glasses. One of her hands remains in mine. I give it a squeeze.

“We’ll be fine.” Her words are more to convince herself than for my benefit. “We’ll be fine.” I nod along as she repeats it, again and again, until her eyes are dry and she’s no longer trembling. “I’m sorry you had to see that, Ishikawa.” Her voice is still thick, catching on her words.

“Don’t apologize.” It takes a second for me to register that my thumb is rubbing the back of her hand. It’s very soothing.

1-3

“Damn it… How could we let this happen?” Abe looks crestfallen and outraged at this turn of events. I can’t focus on him too long, nor can I focus on Matsumoto. Miyuki stumbles over to me, terror written all over her face.

“How? Why?” She nearly falls into me. I try my best to support her weight, just as much as she tries to support mine. I’m just as shaken as she is. I just saw him last night! He was fine less than twelve hours ago.

God, this is the first time I’ve seen a dead body…

1-4

“Look, asshole, we said we didn’t do it! Who would want to aid in a murder anyway?” Yoshida shouts, slamming a fist on her podium. I wince; I’ve seen enough trial-based shows to know that getting angry only serves to degrade credibility.

And, unfortunately for her and Oshiro, Aoyama latches onto that, talking over the rest of us. “Getting defensive, are we? Basically admitting your involvement.”

Oshiro’s eyes darken, her pupils and irises nearly indistinguishable from each other from this distance. She speaks calmly and clearly, though the room seems to drop several degrees. It’s like a storm is brewing around her, covering my arms in goosebumps as she talks. “Yoshida and I did not murder Matsumoto. Got it?”

“Besides, it’s not like there was actually an accomplice this time.” We all go silent. Monokuma looks up lazily as fifteen pairs of eyes land on him. “Did I say that out loud? Whoopsie.”

All of the anger dissipates from Yoshida’s visage, replaced with a mix of cautious relief and annoyance. “See? Told you. Prick.”

2-1

I won’t say it. I won’t question whether or not we’ll be out of here in time for her competition. Neither of us needs that, not now. “If you will, then I will, but only once we finish these Oreos.” I twist another apart, dark crumbs sticking to my fingers. “We didn’t break the nighttime rule for only a couple bites.”

“More than just the one. The rule of three, not opening the door for anyone. None of our esteemed headmaster’s rules, though.” She makes a face and bites into another Oreo, leaving nearly no crumbs. “You’re quite the daredevil.”

“Am not.”

“Are too! Wasn’t this your idea?” She smiles with her lips closed. “Admit it, you’re a rebel on the inside.”

I smile back. She’s right, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to tell her that. “Never!”

2-2

There’s a lot of noise coming from down the hall when I step out. I didn’t bother looking at my face first; I’m sure I look like a mess. Yoshida’s door is slightly ajar; that’s where the noise must be coming from. It’s really loud, like she’s...screaming...shit.

I’m not the only one who rushes over when I hear it. Abe is only a few steps behind me. “Yoshida!” I open the door quickly and step inside, only to find Yoshida, still in her pajamas, standing on her bed and cursing out Monokuma. “Um...what’s going on?”

“Monokuma just appeared in my room and woke me up!” Her glare doesn’t lessen any. “Scared me half to death.”

He blinks up at her, trying to look innocent despite being the exact opposite. “Promise?”

2-3

I don’t notice when Maeda leaves. I don’t notice how much time passes. All I know is her and those little smiles she sends me. I’m there watching until she skates towards me, leaning a little on the side right next to me. There’s no music; I didn’t even notice she didn’t put in another CD.

“So,” she says, her eyebrows somewhat raised. “Just friends?”

I sputter a little. “We didn’t exactly talk about any of this! I-” The words roll off of my tongue before I can stop them. “Yeah, I think I have a crush on you, but like-”

She stops me there with a tiny smile. “I have a crush on you, too. But we can’t do much about it, can we? If we were in school, just a school, we could, but-”

“There’s too much going on.” This damn killing game. There’s no guarantee that we can stay safe. It just complicates everything. “I’m pretty sure everyone thinks we’re already dating.”

“Maybe they’ve been betting on us like we’ve been betting on Hamasaki and Fujimoto,” she jokes, and the corners of her lips tilt up into a smile. “But I guess you should know that I really really do like you.”

My heart squeezes when she says that. I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone say that. I don’t even know what I’m supposed to say to that. “I-”

“Let me try something?” she asks softly. Her eyes search mine until I nod, in total awe. She comes closer until I can feel her breath on my skin, and-

We shoot apart before anything happens as the locker room door opens. I nearly fall onto the seats behind me, and almost land on the floor. I groan internally. “Ueda, can you teach me how to do those technical moves?” Oshiro asks, bouncing in with a giant smile. I half expect Yoshida to be trailing behind her, but she’s alone. I guess that cuts the teasing in half. She only looks between us for a second before shrugging.

2-4

“Ishikawa.”

It’s too bright.

“Ishikawa, you need to get up.”

Too cold.

A hand grabs my arm and pulls me roughly to my feet. I don’t know how I stay standing, not without skates. “I’m going to be sick,” I mutter, unsure if it’s actually true. I want to look away from her. I can’t. So pale…

The hand makes me turn away. ...I can’t leave her! No. “Let go,” I protest, but my words lack conviction. Lack meaning.

I’m over by the seats now, somehow. I can’t see her anymore. The plastic seats are too hard, not comfortable. Someone says something; I can’t make it out. Something small and soft is laid over my shoulders. I stare down at the floor. My knees are dripping with sticky, thick blood. Not mine. Hers.

“Get her out of here. We have an investigation to do.” No, don’t make me leave. I don’t want to leave her here.

A gentler hand than the one before coaxes me up. I’m going to fall over if I take another step, so I don’t. Against the pressure of the hand, I sit back down.

“Get her out,” the voice repeats, like this is an emergency room and I’m trying to be at someone’s side. Isn’t that essentially what this is? But this time, there’s no shred of hope at all.

2-5

Again everyone looks at me. “She’s been at the rink almost every waking hour, you all know that. Nobody saw her the rest of the night.”

The same disapproval from Abe last night hits me again. “Didn’t you say the two of you were going to...what was it? Tell more of a story?”

“What’s he talking about?” Hamasaki asks, genuinely curious. “A story?”

“That’s got to mean something else,” Maeda says, the hint of a mocking smile playing on his face. “Like when someone says they’re late because they’re doing stuff and the other person is-”

I shake my head emphatically, a blush spreading across my face. “No! Nothing like that.” I’m sure to choose my words carefully. “After the last trial, Miyuki came to me for a distraction and-”

Yoshida nods with a smirk. “Yeah, get it, girl.”

“You guys are disgusting! We didn’t even kiss or anything!” As much as I may have wanted to. “She just wanted me to read something to her, so I started reading her Don Quijote and we were going to continue last night but she never showed up.” I cross my arms tightly across my chest, daring anyone to make any lewd comment now. “Completely innocent.”

3-1

“Back so soon?” I yelp and barely refrain from throwing a punch or kick. Monokuma blinks up at me from his reclined position on my bed. I’m going to need to change those sheets.

“What are you doing?” I ask, my teeth gritted. “Listen, I’m-”

“-a buzzkill? You’re absolutely right. Glad you agree.” He hops up, now bouncing on the mattress. “Can’t imagine being such a party pooper that I’d want to be alone all day. Not that you all keep me much company to begin with!”

3-2

“It’s weird that there’s nothing in here,” Miyuki says, leaning on a desk. “Shouldn’t there be clues?”

“I don’t know, maybe the mastermind really doesn’t want us to know who they are.” I check the teacher’s desk, finding nothing in the drawers as usual. “Absence of clues means…”

“...They’re neat. Or they’re smart. Probably both.” She pushes herself back up, coming to my side. “No secret compartments in the drawers?”

I hadn’t even thought to look. I stick my hand in one of the larger drawers, feeling around for any give. “Nothing,” I sigh, closing it once I’m done. “This is kind of hopeless, isn’t it?”

Miyuki shrugs, adjusting her glasses so they don’t fall off of her face. “Maybe not hopeless. You never know what you’re going to find later.”

“You’re right. Of course.” Spots dance into my vision again, and I brace myself against the wall before I can stagger to the ground. “Jeez. How am I supposed to help everyone if I can’t even stay on my feet?”

“Hey, you’re doing just fine, alright?” Miyuki smiles, and the spots begin to subside. “Finish working, I’ll be right here, okay?”

I trust her. “Okay.” I work a little faster this time, clearing the room now that I know what else I can look for. Still nothing. The door opens after a few minutes pass. “I thought you said you weren’t going anywhere?”

Hamasaki looks at me with obvious concern in her eyes. “What are you talking about? I’ve been in the lab.”

I look over to where Miyuki was standing just a minute ago; she’s not there anymore. Right. She was never there.

3-3

She’s really never worn perfume? I shake my head. What am I thinking? “Fujimoto would know for sure.” I turn to him, hoping to bring him out of his stupor somehow. “Fujimoto, do you-”

My eyes widen at him. It’s- it’s like he’s gasping for air. His eyes are unfocused; this is beyond an anxiety attack for sure, but is this a panic attack? I can’t tell. I don’t think I’ve ever seen one happen. “Get him to sit down,” Sasaki commands, already starting to leave her podium. Monokuma looks like he’s going to stop her before looking over at Fujimoto himself. He shuts his fanged mouth.

I try to reach out to Fujimoto, steady him or something, but he starts to jerk a little before bending over his podium and vomiting. Hard. He starts coughing, still trying to gasp for breath. I quickly grab his arm, Oshiro trying to support his other side. He doesn’t stop coughing and gasping for air, his eyes wide but still kind of unfocused.

Sasaki is at his side in an instant, only backing up a tiny bit when he doubles over in on himself and vomits again. I step back only two steps, in case I can help somehow. Until then, I’m too scared to do anything but watch, just like everyone else in the room, as he starts coughing more and more violently, starts gasping for air even more desperately like a fish out of water no matter what Sasaki tries having him do. I don’t think she has training on what to do in this situation. What even is this situation?

He falls onto his back, choking and gasping and I can’t bear to watch anymore but I can still hear it until it stops and Yasu is crying and Sasaki is trying to do CPR or something but-

“A body has been discovered!”

He’s...gone?

3-4

He looks over at me without any prompting. “It was almost you.”

...What?

“I almost killed you, but there was someone in the room with you.”

“There wasn’t-” I gasp. I was hallucinating Miyuki in there. So when Miyuki- the hallucination- said that she would stay there, she saved me. I talked to her and Ikeda thought I was talking to someone else, maybe Hamasaki or Fujimoto.

If I hadn’t hallucinated, I would be dead now.

How am I supposed to take this?

4-1

“Well, these aren’t exactly flowers.” Sasaki brushes her hands on the pants of her overalls, leaving small streaks of dirt. She points to one of the pots. “Common broom. Highly poisonous. Do not consume. Capiche?”

“Why would there be poisonous plants in a teachers’ lounge?” Aoyama asks, disbelief painted across his face. “Are you sure-”

“Try it and find out.” She picks up a pot and shoves it under his nose, startling him. This is probably the most bitter I’ve seen her. Not bad at all.

He pushes her away wordlessly, his expression soured. I didn’t think he would want to risk being wrong.

4-2

“This is better than I expected,” Aoyama laughs, throwing a smug and amused look to Sasaki. “I mean, really. Did you seriously get high in gardening club?”

She sputters, her freckles accented as her entire face burns pink. I can tell that some people (Yoshida and Oshiro) fight a smile. “That- it was an accident, I swear!”

4-3

I crack open my book again, having closed it as I was cleaning my dishes from dinner, and slouch a bit in my seat as I read. I can’t believe I’ve been in here for most of the day. Alone, too, not even a hallucination-ghost-thing in sight. While that part feels nice, it’s strange, almost eerie. I feel like I’ve already gotten used to living here…

Which, yeah, is a dangerous line of thought. Adapting to the paranoia is as good as giving up. At the same time, we’ve already lost so many people. Maybe learning to live here is-

The bells sound, shocking my system. “A body has been discovered! Everyone, please gather in the physics lab!”

-just what we need.

4-4

Anger comes off of Yoshida in waves, from the moment we step into the trial room. It reminds me of me two trials ago. She’s just next to Miyuki’s portrait across from me, so the instant she looks up, her anger is directed solely at me rather than Fujimoto’s portrait.

Monokuma takes one look at her before starting the trial. “...You all know the drill at this point. I don’t need that coming after my hide. So, ah, go ahead and begin!”

5-1

“It’s like dust. These have been ignored for a long time without water.”

“Ah, that would be my fault.” Monokuma walks out from the bushes, brushing some stray twigs off of himself. He stops in front of us. “Y’see, the sprinklers broke, and it’s not like we have a Super High-School Level Mechanic or anything here. Not like these were important to begin with. A lot of them weren’t even deadly!” He shrugs.

“And you couldn’t just come up here and water them yourself?” Aoyama asked, and for once I applaud that his snarkiness is directed to the right person. Er, bear. No, person, because mastermind. Am I thinking about that right?

“Believe you me, I have much better things to do.” Monokuma waves a paw in the air vaguely before stomping off, through a different bush. I’m pretty sure there’s no exit other than the one we came through. If he’d done that back before anyone died, I would’ve questioned it. I know better than to waste my time now.

5-2

For once, I don’t stop to wonder why he’s here. Any bit of help is appreciated, even from him. “I already did this side.” He nods and starts trying to boot one up, the first one he saw coming in the door. He presses the button, then he stops and stares at it. To my horror, he then smacks it. “What are you doing?”

“This usually works with my old PC.” He smacks it again as I gape at him. If he does much else, it’ll be breaking the rule of no destruction of school property. And there’s no way it’ll actually- “There we go!”

5-3

Abe’s eyes widen, but he says nothing. Maybe he really is trying to solve this all on his own. There’s no way that’s healthy. “What would the ultimate goal be if this were a trap? As much as it may seem otherwise, I don’t actually think any of you would conspire to kill everyone.” Aoyama’s eyes appear to double in size when he realizes what he said. “Wow. I must be tired.”

Yoshida smiles sleepily, reminding me of how Oshiro looked in the mornings when the two of them joked together in the dining hall. “Aww, I knew under those layers of being a total dick you were just a big softie.” She starts laughing, complete with snorts, before she can even finish her sentence. “Seriously, can we please wrap this up? I need to get to bed.”

6-1

“What do you think we’re going to find in there? An actual hideout for the mastermind?” It appears to me that even though Yoshida is talkative normally, she becomes more so when she’s tired. Given the silence of the halls, it’s not necessarily a bad thing right now. “Or something more sinister? Like the bones of the headmaster?”

I blanch at her, almost stumbling up the stairs. “What are you talking about?”

She thinks for a second before answering. “I dunno. It seems like the kind of thing that would be revealed right about now.”

An ominous phrase if I’ve ever heard one. I actually think I got a chill down my spine when she said it. Something like that would never happen, though. Not even here. At least, I don’t think it would. I hope it wouldn’t. “Your mind goes to strange places.”

“We’re in a strange place, it’s past midnight, and I’m tired. Why isn’t your mind going to strange places?”

...That’s a good point. “Okay, let’s try to keep as much rationality among us as we can. The headmaster’s office is closer, so we’ll go there first.” We’re already most of the way up the stairs. My stomach twists against my will, reminding me of the many horrific things that could very well be up here. “This is a good thing, right? Making good of this attempt?”

Yoshida sighs, not looking at me as it turns into a yawn. “Again. Strange place. Past midnight. Tired. Don’t care.”

6-2

So, what, that’s three out of the five of us that agree? And the way Yoshida worries her lip, I have a feeling she feels the same. “Nakamura, when’s your birthday?” she asks suddenly.

He blinks, taken more aback at that than by Aoyama agreeing with me and Abe. “February fourteenth…?”

A grim look crosses her face. “Amaya told me before, on a few occasions, actually, that you should never trust an aquarius.”

Oh my god, I remember her saying that. “But- I’m an aquarius too,” Aoyama says after a second passes.

“I know. I hate you.”

Epilogue

We say goodnight to them before they leave, but we decided to stay on the bench until my parents arrive. “Amaya would love the stars tonight,” Yoshida says eventually, her head back on my shoulder. Her face is turned so she’s almost talking into it, but it’s still very comfortable.

“She would.” I put an arm around her shoulders. For some reason, I feel as protective of Yoshida as an older sister would of her siblings. Funny, given that she’s actually older than me. Right now, though, it’s important for us to support each other. That, I can do. “I think she and Miyuki and everyone else are glad we made it.”

“That’s not some therapy bullshit, is it?”

I laugh softly, pushing Yoshida’s beanie over her eyes. “No, seriously.”

She laughs once as she adjusts her hat so she can see, then falls silent again. “We’ll be alright,” she mutters, almost sleepily. “Eventually.”

“Yeah,” I agree. “Eventually.”

#fumito abe #nozomu aoyama #hidekazu fujimoto #utako hamasaki #kazuhiko ikeda #camila ishikawa #hayao maeda #takeshi matsumoto #ikuo nakamura #amaya oshiro #kirika rikimaru #kagami saito #hanayo sasaki #miyuki ueda #yasu kadoshima #etsuko yoshida #danganronpa #dvhs #i speak

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imastrangeone98 · 4 years

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Close to Me

(A/N: I know this series is mainly about faith and our lovey dovey demon boi Dante, I just wanna see Faith and lady hanging out. Lady is such an interesting character, and I hate that I don't give her the spotlight as I do with the others)

Lady was willing to admit that she wasn't exactly an easy person to get along with.

Combine a competitive personality and hidden clinginess with a horrible family past, and you get one complicated person with too many flaws and too many walls that no one would ever dare approach, given the choice.

And yet, here Faith was, always asking for her to do something: stay over for dinner, come check out the new fair, or go shopping at the local Korean market on 72nd Street.

And the terrifying thing was... she was beginning to look forward to it.

She liked helping around in the kitchen. She liked riding the exciting rollercoasters and getting sick on cotton candy. She liked trying out different types of snacks and drinks while her friend patiently repeated the names back to her.

For some odd reason, it gave her a sense of... normalcy.

And heaven knows that she was severely lacking in that field.

But there were still moments. Moments where she didn't feel... deserving.

She was nothing like Faith. She wasn't good like she was. There was nothing more opposing than a demon hunter and a nephilim.

"You know, that's not entirely true," the half-angel murmured one day. "Opposites are just two sides of the same coin."

Lady just kept staring at the night sky, counting down the constellations she saw. It wasn't as if she didn't see this conversation coming.

"And besides, it's not about being a good person. It's about learning how to do good things and meaning them. One day at a time."

"I didn't think I was gonna get lectured today," Lady tried to joke, but the words felt heavy in her throat.

"Sorry." Faith turned to smile at her. "You're someone very important to me, though. And when something hurts you, it hurts me too." Gently, she took her friend's hand in her own, rubbing small circles with her thumb. "The world could be against you, and I'll still be on your side."

Even though I make mistakes? she couldn't help but wonder. Even though... I killed my own father?

Faith must have read her mind, because she suddenly said, "Mistakes and regrets are all part of the cycle, Lady. It's up to us to determine whether or not we let it control us. I suppose that's one thing that separates you and me." Lady couldn't tell if the shine in her eyes was starlight or not. "I let it control me for so long... that I don't know how to live without it."

Lady let out a soft, understanding chuckle. "Actually, that might be the one thing that connects us." A tear slipped between her eyelids, tracing her face. "We both can't let go of our pasts."

The smaller girl hummed. "I suppose so."

The night was silent, with only the occasional chirp of crickets. The two stared up at the sky and stars, basking in the light of the full moon.

"...But..." Faith suddenly murmured. "I want to try."

Lady was quiet for a while, contemplating on what to say. If not her history, what did she have left?

She stayed silent. But the warm hand that covered her own was more than enough.

She wasn't alone.

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A/N: I seriously need to stop keeping track of notes on this site ㅠㅠ

But in all seriousness I think it'd be pretty interesting to go more into lady's head and find out what she's thinking. I think others may have done it better tho

#devil may cry #dmc lady #dmc oc #platonic!lady x oc

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bnhascribbles · 5 years

Text

Love at First Sight

Shinso x Reader

Coffee Shop AU, Fluff, First Meetings; For the lovely kazooli‘s competition. It’s based on their “Love at First Sight” scenario! Now, I may be a dumb-dumb and be late, but either way, I’m posting this because WHY NOT.

Words: 1.5K

Warnings: None

Shinso isn’t an idealistic sort of person. He knows he doesn’t love you–won’t entertain the thought–even when time seems to stop the second you walk through that door. “Love” wasn’t something that just happened. Not in a minute, not at a glance, and certainly not with a complete stranger.

Even so, he’s utterly fascinated by you, unable to pry his eyes away as you settle into a booth in the corner.

It hadn’t been your smile that’d done it, soft and just-barely-there as you stretched the edge of your hoodie over the bottom of your face, like the gesture was a secret meant for you alone. It hadn’t been the way you’d clumsily tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and exposed silver studs, twisted in the wrong direction, but unmistakably cat-shaped. It hadn’t even been the way the steady thrum of your fingers against the countertop had matched the pace of his heart exactly–the fact that when they stalled, he could feel his breathing halting, getting caught in his chest, waiting for the moment those nails would resume their concert upon the wood.

No, it’d been more than all of that. It was just...you. The things he could see along with something else that lingered just beneath his skin. Something silent, but present nonetheless. Something he couldn’t possibly put into words–couldn’t understand–but could experience. Like gravity. He can’t even begin to explain the reasons why it existed, how it worked the way it did. Still, it’s tug was undeniable.

Even though Shinso knows better, some part of him still wants to believe it’s possible–that there’s a single person in the world made for him, and they’re lounging about in the coffee shop he works at.

Work. He’s supposed to be doing that. Right.

Shinso forces his eyes back down to his register screen, and for a while, he manages to ignore you. He wipes at a wet spot on the granite and pretends you aren’t just a couple feet away, convinces himself that you’ve wandered out or disappeared into thin air or, maybe, you hadn’t even been there to begin with. Maybe he’d imagined you. That possibility makes it much easier for him to focus. It works right up to the moment you walk over to his counter. When that happens, he glances up for just a second and knows all hope is lost.

“Hey.” This is the very first time Shinso has ever heard your voice. Still, he’s certain he’d be able to pick it out in a crowd if given the opportunity. No other sound has ever made his skin buzz like this before.

But the fact doesn’t change: It’s still not love that he feels. Attraction maybe, but definitely not love.

“Hey.” Shinso chimes back, thinking for much longer than he should about how to phrase that one word. Despite his best efforts, it sounds wrong to him. Not smooth like yours had been. It’s too blunt (even though it was only a one-word response). Too nervous (not that he had any reason to be nervous). Too–

“This is where I order right?”

He’d spaced out. Dammit. That wasn’t something he usually did.

“Yeah, it is.” He’s still doing it–overthinking everything. Shinso inhales deeply, channeling hours of customer service training videos, willing himself to forget about everything that isn’t the espresso machine or service with a smile. “What can I get you?”

“Hm.” You place your palms flat on the counter, leaning in to get a better look at the menu board. Your eyes flit between the messy scrawl there and the register. “Tell me: What does the master recommend?”

A lesser man might have choked. Shinso just stops breathing.

“...Or is that title on your apron just for show?”

The title. The title, for god’s sake. Gaudy golden letters embroidered just below the pocket of his apron, proudly proclaiming “COFFEE MASTER” like it wasn’t something every employee had to wear as part of their uniform. He makes a mental note to smother the lettering in coffee grounds the very next opportunity he’s granted.

“You can’t go wrong with a latte.”

Your lips purse and your gaze narrows playfully. “Mm, not the most adventurous choice, is it,” your eyes drift down to his name tag, “Shinso Hitoshi?”

Shinso usually hated when people did that–deliberately sought out and used his name while he was working–but, not surprisingly, you seem to be an exception. He swears it sounds like you’re singing when you do it.

“Classic is classic. ‘Adventurous’ is great until you end up with something undrinkable.”

“Oh come on. Undrinkable? Sure you’re not just being a coffee snob?”

Shinso raises an eyebrow. This whole situation might have been new to him, but coffee was something he knew. “Ever had a raw, deconstructed espresso?”

“Nope, but it sure sounds interesting.”

He scoffs. “I thought so too at first. But trust me, chewing on espresso beans at 6 AM isn’t as fun as it sounds.”

You snort, covering your mouth to muffle some of the giggles. When you recover enough to speak again, you do it through your fingers. “You got your caffeine fix and a snack. Sounds like a good time to me.”

“Yeah?” Shinso smiles, draping an arm over the screen of his register. “Well if that’s what you want, I’ve got some really tasty beans in the back. I can whip one up for you real quick. Takes less than 10 seconds to make, and let me tell you, the crunch is something else.”

You hum for a moment, tapping your finger against the countertop. “As enticing as your offer sounds, I think I’ve already figured out what I want.” You don’t say anything as you reach into your bag and pull out your wallet, even though the sly look plastered across your face makes him think you have a lot of things to say.

“I’ll take a latte.”

Shinso raises an eyebrow, trying to seem incredulous, but smiling still. “What, don’t feel like being ‘adventurous’ anymore?”

Your jaw hangs to the side, but the subtle twist of your lips betrays the playfulness behind the gesture. As it turns out, both of you are terrible fakers.

“Oh hush. I may not work here, but I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to sass the customers.”

It was true, of course. Still, if it means getting another snarky response from you, seeing those bright eyes light up with every quip, he’s more than willing to break a few rules.

Shinso grabs a cup and scribbles the order number across it with a sharpie. “Of course, because the customer is always right.” He makes sure his words are dripping with sarcasm.

“Absolutely. Glad you’re not too prideful to admit it” You tease right back at him, and the confidence in the way you tilt your chin upward and beam (adorable) has him chuckling.

“Wanna tell me your name, oh valued customer? Or am I just drawing a smiley face on the cup?”

Shinso could have very well poured your coffee, handed you the cup, and been done with it. He didn’t need a name to do his job, not when you were already standing right there and it was a slow day like this. He wanted it though, wanted to hear the way you said it, watch the way your lips twisted as it formed each syllable. More than that, he wanted to say it himself–to see if repeating it back to you would break his trance, cool the heat searing his insides.

Something mischievous flickers in your eyes. You make a show of scratching at your chin, smirking like you hold all the power in the world at that one moment. And you do, as far as he’s concerned.

“I kinda wanna see you draw a smiley face on it,” you pause, shifting your weight between both feet, “Or a heart. Whatever scribbles you feel compelled to leave for me.”

He stands there for what feels like hours, considering his next move. You’d been flirting with him–that wasn’t even an opinion, it was cold-hard fact. The question was, how was he supposed to respond without making a complete fool of himself? He could barely think, what with the buzzing in his ears, the tightness in his chest–

“How about my phone number?” Shinso doesn’t remember thinking the words, only the feeling of them sprinting up his throat–quick and jumbled and abrupt.

You stare up at him as if to see if the question isn’t some joke–another piece of banter thrown around for the sake of earning a laugh. Your gaze falls to Shinso’s fingers, trembling as they clutch the sharpie in his fist, and your expression suddenly softens.

“I think I’d like that.” You inhale. “A lot, actually.”

“Awesome.” He mutters, almost unconsciously. The nervousness bundled into that one word is enough to make him wish he could sink into the floor. Still, he doesn’t do that. Partly because it isn’t possible, and partly because he still has something he needs from you. “Afraid I still need your name though.” Before he can blink, your smirk is back, as playful as ever.

“Need? Or want?”

“Want.” There’s no hesitation in the word, breathed out like the prayer of a dying man–one with nothing left to lose and everything to gain.

You snicker when you finally say it, and he knows he’s been right all along–that it doesn’t take a minute to fall in love.

It takes five.

#kazcontest #bnha x reader #bnha reader insert #shinso x reader #shinsou hitoshi #shinso hitoshi #bnha shinsou #bnha hitoshi #Coffee shop au #bnha #mha #bnha imagines #mha imagines

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missbugaboo · 4 years

Text

That Other Guy (3)

“Why does it matter so much to you? What’s so terrible about Adrien Agreste that you can’t stand him as your competition – even though it changes absolutely nothing for you? What in magic’s name makes him such a hateful rival?” Or, Chat Noir finally learns who Ladybug’s dream guy is, but somehow, he’s not pleased at all. For more reasons than one.

LadyNoir, Adrienette.

fanfiction.net / AO3

Previous chapter | Next chapter

Chapter 3: In the Rain(storm)

If Ladybug was a bundle of nerves, then Cat Noir was a walking, talking disaster.

He was a mess.

He was a failure.

He was mad and he was scared, as well as utterly and perfectly astonished.

He was stunned.

He had no idea what to do, how to respond to the deluge of information his Lady had poured on him, unable to put together the scrapes she had given him and too terrified to face the idea that was starting to loom before his eyes as the most probable one.

He was a coward; but this time, he simply couldn't fight the fears that were holding him back.

So while Ladybug decided to jam the whirlwind of emotions that came over her with the help of her superpowers and her strength, running across the rooftops and fighting to maintain her sanity by escaping the horrors that were following her, her partner stood still, incapable of making the slightest of moves.

She knew she'd fall apart the moment she came to a halt; he realised his downfall would come the moment he woke up from his daze.

So he remained in his place, amazed, dumbfounded, motionless. His eyes had followed her when she'd left and then stayed fixed on the horizon, on the same spot he had last seen her. He watched the sky go darker without noticing the cause of such change: the dark, heavy clouds that concealed the brightness of the moon and swallowed the stars that accompanied it. He kept looking, as if he still expected her to come back, to land on the rooftop next to him and sight the solution he was too blind to see.

To fix what she – he – they had broken that night.

He stirred when the first drops landed on his cheeks, but didn't leave his outpost anyway. Looking up at the sky and exposing his face to the more and more violent beating of the rain was the most he could do; closing his eyes was the greatest movement he could be persuaded to make.

He breathed in the cold, humid air, desperately trying to block the images and words that were invading his mind – both those who were born from his own recent experiences and those which (he was certain of it) came to him from Plagg. It wasn't the first time when he heard his kwami's voice when transformed, even if said voice was as subtle as the one of his own subconsciousness.

As helpful as it could be at times, hearing it now only added to his pain.

He thought about de-transforming. At least then he could tell Plagg to shut up directly, or even block his ears quite literally if the latter had decided to ignore his pleas. The idea was rejected as quickly as it was born, however, and there was a very simple, very obvious reason for that.

The last person he needed right now was Adrien Agreste without a mask.

Adrien, the reason for this ordeal.

Adrien, the perfect, boring boy.

Adrien, the one who's won his Lady's heart without doing a single thing to deserve that, when the true, honest, imperfect part of him known as Cat Noir had never even stood a chance.

Could anyone really expect him to rejoice in a discovery of this kind?

He would have called it ironic, if it hadn't hurt so much. But it did; it hurt so, so terribly, to think that none of the things he had ever done for her were enough to make her care for him in the way in which he cared for her. They'd been through so much together: fighting alongside for so many, many months now, going through hardships and challenges, telling jokes and fooling around whenever they felt they could afford that.

How many times had he seen her feeling down and pressed her to spill the beans, until she'd broken into sobs and admitted to all that had been bothering her? How many of those breakdowns had been caused by the indifference of they boy she'd claimed to love, whom he often wanted to strangle with his bare hands, only to learn that he himself was the reason of her distress?

What had Adrien ever done to deserve her love?

And then: had he really been jealous of himself this whole time?

He snorted, annoyed with his own conclusions. It should have been so easy now: to simply wait for the opportunity to approach Ladybug as his civilian self and cease the chance by telling her how much he cared for her, all in the hopes she would not deny what she'd admitted to him today. It sure would be awkward at first, and it sure would require a lot of wit to make this supposedly hero-civilian relationship work – but if he truly loved her, it certainly was worth the trouble.

Right?

Only he knew it would not work. Not only because he knew for sure that he would never be able to hide the truth from her for long, either blurting it out by accident or openly revealing his secret when he got too tired of hiding it. All of the above was true; and yet, it was not even the second most important reason for his unwillingness to as much as try to do this.

How could he even assume she would have him then?

He didn't know her as Adrien, not really. A few meetings during an akuma attack, just like he'd said before. A few smiles given and received, a bit of small-talk, a word of meaningless comfort only to show her that he would always support her. Nothing more, though; nothing to claim that he actually did know her any better than the rest of her fans did.

He'd accused her of choosing someone she couldn't know, of putting a shallow celebrity crush above the years of friendship and effort.

If he approached her as Adrien, could she really see his affection as anything else?

After all, a 'celebrity crush' was exactly the term Nino had used when he'd finally learnt his secret a few weeks before.

Adrien Agreste didn't know Ladybug.

Ladybug didn't know Adrien.

She couldn't have.

Or... could she?

“And what if I do know him?”

"Get out of my brain," he drawled through his gritted teeth, turning around violently and pressing his hands against the sides of his head. "Get out, get out, get out!"

His cry resonated in the air for a second, before it was drown out by the noises of the rain falling around him. He could feel the hot tears burning behind his eyes as the walls he'd raised around his heart cracked, threatening to let in the same images and ideas he was so afraid to see.

So afraid do accept.

He was not ready for that.

And yet, the damage had already been done. No matter how tightly he shut his eyes, how great was the pressure between his hands and ears, how loud or low his growls were, they were of no use.

Closing his eyelids could not erase the picture of her shocked, hurting face, engraved in his memory with the same feeling of guilt that had been slowly taking over him ever since she'd left. Covering his ears did was no obstacle for the recollections of her voice, of the broken, disappointed tone she'd used while speaking to him.

His shouts could never jam the words she had pierced him with.

"You don't know me."

"I'm not Ladybug in my real life. I'm nothing like the girl you know."

"I'm sure that you could meet me in real life and you wouldn’t pay any more mind than you would to any other passer-by on the street."

She'd been so right and yet, so horribly, horribly wrong.

Of course, he didn't know her. Not truly, not completely, and nowhere near to the extent he wished to know her. She was the one who had made sure he never would, who had kept doing so regardless of how much he pleaded with her.

No matter how many sensible, impartial arguments he had presented, Ladybug had always had the same answer for him.

"We have no right to know."

There had been a time when he'd believed he might change her mind; a short time of gullibility after she had been named the new Guardian, taking over from Master Fu after their so-called victory over Hawkmoth, Mayura and Queen Bee. None of their previous winning had been achieved by such a cost and if he could, he would have done anything to make sure in never happened. It had, however; and even though it'd been hard to bare and unwanted, the change had also rekindled the spark of hope he'd thought long gone at the time.

His reasoning was simple: if Master Fu, the Guardian, had known his civilian identity, there was no reason why Ladybug, the Guardian he had chosen as his successor, should not know it as well.

And then it was only fair he learnt hers.

Still, she was not to be persuaded. He knew for sure she had talked about it not only with Tikki, but with Wayzz as well – and from how awkwardly she talked to him later on he easily figured that the kwamis were not exactly against the idea. It was Ladybug who was; the choice was hers and hers alone.

How little she must have trusted him.

And yet, the same knowledge he'd been yearning for all this time somehow turned to be the greatest of threats now.

Suddenly he didn't wish to know at all.

Suddenly, there was no way he could escape it.

And she was the one who had given him all the information necessary for it.

"Get out," he whispered brokenly, repeating the words like a mantra, for what felt like a hundredth time that night. His tangled locks were dripping wet from all the rain that had become much more like a downpour by now. The cold water had found its way under his collar, flowing down his back, evading the protection his suit would normally have given him. His teeth would have begin to chatter if he hadn't been gritting them so hard; his body would have shaken with shivers if his inner turmoil hadn't had him trembling from the start.

When he fell onto his knees he knew it had nothing to do with the wind that howled around him.

The tears were running down his face freely now, the hot drops mixed with the icy water brought to his cheeks by the storm. He pressed his chin against his chest and buried his fingers even deeper in his hair, as if he'd been trying to block the reality from getting to him; but to no avail.

Probably because it already had.

He tried to scream for the last time, trusting he could at least let out some of the pain and frustration in this way, the emotions he could not fight otherwise. But his voice caught in his throat, and the scream stayed within him; cutting and burning, wounding him like no villain ever could.

Was it the price for his stubbornness, for his decision to deny the truth that was standing right before him?

And if he accepted that truth, would the pain go away?

"But I can't!" he choked between his sobs. "She doesn't want me to know who she is. And I don't wish to know against her will. And I can't – I can't – I can't -

I can't take it if she's who I think she is.

"The honest, considerate classmate I've been blessed to meet myself."

There was no fooling himself anymore. Even if she hadn't said anything else – if she'd skipped the part about her clumsiness or the mentions of the way she stuttered when near him – that sentence alone would have been enough to make the truth as plain as a day to him. And it had; he could spend the rest of his life crouched on this roof, battling the obvious and refusing to accept that fact in the same way he'd been doing until now and it still wouldn't have changed a thing.

He didn't need any details. No more personal information, no suggestions, no clues. All he needed was implied in that one, short, simple line:

Ladybug was his classmate.

He knew exactly which one.

#my writing #fanfiction #mlb #ladynoir #adrienette #miraculous ladybug #ladybug #chat noir

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tarithenurse · 5 years

Text

Agent of Hope - 7

Your world falls into ruin together with the Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcements Logistics Division when you find out that your boyfriend isn’t one of the good guys. Pairing: Brock Rumlow x fem!reader, Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader Contents: Description of injuries, swearing, angst, threats, distrust, pain, doubt, hate. The usual. A/N: Please reblog if you liked. I try to update the taglist according to requests and frequent rebloggers. Probably won’t get a lot of writing done the next week as I’ll be busy getting used to new job, but check out my masterlist for other stuff.

7 - The Captain

… Romanoff’s PoV …

Steve arrives just an hour before Natasha has to leave for hearings on a grey Monday morning. At no point has the former spy attempted to sweeten the impressions of what will be happening after dumping all the files from SHIELD online, so she knows that this is only going to be the first of many sessions with men in suits thinking they know better.

That’s not the reason she doesn’t want to go.

“Whatever you guys do,” the redhead hisses at Sam Wilson and the Captain, “do not question what she’s been through.” Sam looks like he’s about to crack a joke, but a glare silences him. “And don’t question her sanity, or I’ll carve out your kidneys and sell‘em on the black market.”

“We’ll behave, Nat, don’t worry.” Solemn, blue eyes underline Steve’s promise.

Turning on her heel, Natasha stalk out of the kitchen where she’d cornered the two guys, heading towards the garage. [Y/N]’s parting words still echo in her head: “They’ll need you, all of you.” It’s comforting to know that the strange woman who knows more than she should is adamant when it comes to the future of the Avengers.

Avengers. Not too long ago, there was no official name for the odd group of people who ended up saving New York, but the name was on everybody’s lips before the dust had settled and the shawarma had been eaten. Heroes. That’s how they’d been seen by a lot of people even if it didn’t seem entirely true to the image they’d had of themselves (not counting Stark, who’s always more than happy to bask in the spotlight). A good team, sure, they’d coincidentally worked very well together and even in the midst of battle, Romanoff had dared hope that this would clear her of some of the sins. It’d worked out for a while. Kind of.

… Reader’s PoV …

The arrival of the men surprises you in more ways than one. First, there are two. You’d not expected anyone to accompany the Steven Grant Rogers, but you’re honestly happy for it because the second guy has an aura of relaxation and trust about him. The Captain himself? Not so much.

Watching Captain America is in many ways similar to watching Brock, even though they are like night and day, the few similarities are striking and make your guts tighten and feet twitch from wanting to run away. Brock and Rogers are both unbending, disciplined and meticulous to the point where they shape the people around them rather than vice versa. Tall and broad, they fill the room with their presences, preventing any competition of the alpha-male title. Icy eyes push you off the couch and to your feet and set your hairs on end all over your body, and as the man steps closer, it’s like moving back in time to the few times you’ve seen Brock advance on someone who displeased him. Automatically, you retreat.

“Sorry.” At least Rogers sounds like he means it. “I didn’t mean to erm…to make you uncomfortable.”

The moment you take his hand in greeting is the moment invisible “lightning” strikes you out of nowhere, carving through the crown of your skull all the way to your toes. Skull with octopus. Sunglasses. Colosseum. A big, dark hand reaches up towards iron bars. Laughter as sunglasses shatters on stone, revealing a milky eye in a serious face. Someone calling out for a [Y/N]. The man’s name is Fury and Captain America is charging into the cell where he’s kept. [Y/N].

[Y/N]. It sounds closer. “[Y/N]!”

Strong arms are supporting you as the world revolves on its own and you have to close your eyes in order not to puke. It’s a relief when you feel a steadier surface beneath you.

“Shit, Steve,” another voice comments with horror, “Romanoff’s gonna kill us, man!”

Steve. Captain America! Waves of adrenalin help the eyelashes to flutter open briefly, enough to spot the veteran’s face near yours.

“She’ll be fine.” Regardless, he still asks Jarvis to fetch Stark. “Hey, [Y/N], can you hear me?”

“Mmmhmmm.”

Oh yeah, you can hear him more than plenty, the voice is sending new stabs of pain through your brain. The skin of your face folds and cracks like drying sand when you fight against the urge to keep your eyes closed, and you’re relieved at how tears and eyelashes block most of the view to the blue eyes, because they aren’t the ones you really want to see and neither is the face that’s peeping at you from behind Roger’s shoulder.

The words are clumsy in your mouth. “They got…him...Fury?” Looking to the men for confirmation is useless, but what else can you do? “I saw…in Rome…”

The explanation is rambling and you have to try several times before especially Wilson gets past the point where you know who Fury is and that he’s alive, but eventually they accept the baseline of what you saw and that it requires action. Now.

…

“Don’t throw any toga parties!” Tony Stark grins jovially, hiding a worry behind the sunglasses. “We’ll be back before you know it.”

“I don’t like it.” The words aren’t yours even though they could have been. They’re coming from Sam who’s biting his lip as he looks back at you from the ramp of the jet. The statement has been repeated several times already. “Natasha’s gonna kills us, guys.”

Roger’s heavy hand is warm and reassuring on your shoulder, the little squeeze a gentle comfort that you aren’t actually all alone in this mess of a life. “I know, but we owe it to Fury –“

“Besides,” Stark butts in like a cat wanting attention for the mouse it brought home, “I’ve designed the security here and both Jarvis and Happy is just a call away to help take care of our little prophet!” Pausing a moment at Sam’s side, the glasses are lifted momentarily. “And I’m not gonna tell Romanoff we left, are you?”

The worried man sees the opportunity and takes it. “Uhm err no?”

It would be nice if you could be as easily swayed as Sam Wilson is in this matter, but as you watch the quinjet taking off, the apprehension of being left alone at the so-called Compound is settling in as a deadweight on your chest.

… Rumlow’s PoV …

It hurts to move. It hurts to look in the mirror and see the crust-covered wounds that crack and ooze from the tiniest of movements. It hurts more, however, to know that [Y/N] is getting cozy with Captain Fucking America and his buddies…that she didn’t even let him try to explain things to her so they could recover what they had and move on together.

Freak. The term applies more to [Y/N] than to himself even with the view as he stands here by the sink. All this time, and he didn’t even know he was sharing a bed with a genetic miscreation – a monster that has decided to throw everything aside and flee with the tail between its legs, taking the one useful aspect along with it and out of grasp from Brock. Mine. No one takes anything away from him.

Straightening, the upper body protests as joints move and muscles tense under the torn skin, and Brock hisses at the pain.

“Ya shouldna be up ye’.”

The wise-ass nurse is silenced with a curse.

I need to be up.

There’s revenge to be had and a monster to catch, and Brock will be damned if he’s going to miss out on any of it.

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whatadaze · 5 years

Note

can u please write a fic about the first time noah and liv say i love you?? would make my year

um yes it’d be an honor

Liv hasn’t been back at the abandoned church since their first “date”.

But when Noah goes missing and she can’t find him all day, she figures he might be there.

Of course, the thought doesn’t come to her mind right away. She spent all day with horrific images in her head—Noah lying in a ditch somewhere or in a hospital bed.

And she knew that she was overthinking.

That Noah was probably fine.

But that didn’t stop her from blowing up his phone and pounding on his front door.

It’s not until she takes a seat on his doorsteps and gives herself a moment to breathe that she remembers the church.

“I used to come here often when I was a kid,” he had told her. “To shut myself off. Do you like it?”

******

When Liv opens the church doors, her eyes take a minute to adjust to the dim lighting. At first, she feels a sense of dread when she doesn’t see him, but her eyes fall onto a sleeping form on the front pew, covered by a familiar orange coat.

And for a moment, the weight on her chest lifts.

Because Noah is here.

He’s safe.

But the sense of relief that she feels is quickly replaced with anger.

She had spent all day worrying over him, thinking he was dead somewhere and here he is, sleeping soundlessly.

Liv approaches the pew and crosses her arm, taking a moment to study him before poking his chest. When that doesn’t wake him, she grabs his shoulders and shakes him.

“What the hell-”

“Are you a fucking idiot?” Liv shouts, her voice bouncing off the church walls.

“Liv?” Noah rubs his eyes as he gets up and squints up at her. “What are you doing here?”

“What am I-” Liv lets out a shaky breath. “I thought you were fucking dead, Noah,” she says. “Or hurt. Or god knows what! You haven’t been picking up your phone, you weren’t at school, or at home, I thought…”

“I’m okay, Liv,” he tells her softly. “I just needed to think for a bit…I usually come here when I-”

“Want to shut yourself off?” she finishes, repeating the words he had told her that night.

Noah nods his head, casting his eyes down to the floor.

Suddenly, seeing him like this—tired and closed off—lifts the anger away and Liv finally takes a seat beside him.

“You know you can always talk to me, right?” she says, grabbing his hand. “I was worried, Noah. I know you like to have your space sometimes but…I’m here for you.”

He squeezes her hand, but doesn’t lift his gaze.

“What’s wrong?” she asks.

Noah remains silent for a while but he finally mutters, “I thought of her today.”

Liv patiently waits for him to continue.

“My mom,” he says. “She um, I haven’t thought about her for a while and today I just…she popped up inside my head, Liv. I was working on a painting and then all of a sudden she came out of nowhere and wouldn’t leave my fucking mind.”

His voice sounds shaky and Liv knows he’s trying to hold back his emotions.

“She’s the one that taught me, you know,” he tells her, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. “Painting. I think it’s the only thing we had in common…”

Liv rubs the back of his hand with her thumb as she listens.

“It just makes me angry,” he continues. “That she just left me like that. Twice. And when I started thinking about that last night, the thought wouldn’t leave my head. That I must’ve been such a shitty son that leaving me the first time just wasn’t enough.”

It’s those words that push Liv to finally speak.

“No.”

She gently grabs his chin and turns his head so he would look at her.

“Hey,” she says softly. “Your mom was sick. And we’ll never know what was going on in her mind when you were younger or…or before her death but…I’m sure she loved you, Noah. In her own way.”

Despite the dim lighting, Liv could see the tears in his eyes,

the doubt,

the fear that his thoughts were true—

that his mother didn’t love him.

That no one did.

“She shared what she loved to do with you,” Liv says. “She taught you to paint, Noah. And you’re fucking amazing at it.”

Noah shakes his head and her chest feels heavy at the thought of him not believing her words.

“I wish your mom could’ve seen the art that you bring into this world,” she tells him. “Because it’s beautiful, Noah.”

Liv places a hand on his cheek.

“And it makes me love you more and more each day.”

His eyes widen and his shocked face brings a small smile to her lips.

“What?” she asks. “Is that so surprising?”

Noah parts his lips but can’t seem to form any words.

“I love you, Noah.”

And this time, her words seem to finally register because suddenly, Liv is lifted off from her seat and onto Noah’s lap.

Liv lets out a laugh and rests her hand on the back of his neck, pulling him towards her.

But just as she is about to press her lips against his, Noah pulls back.

“I wanted to say it first by the way,” he says, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. “That I love you. Because I do, Liv. I love you.”

His blue eyes are shining, and the doubt that filled them just a few minutes ago is nowhere in sight.

“Oh, was this a competition?” Liv jokes.

Noah’s face breaks into a wide grin. “I’m pretty sure I fell in love with you first anyway. So I still win.”

Liv rolls her eyes. “You’re such an idiot.”

Noah places a chaste kiss on her lips before pecking her nose,

then her chin,

and then her cheek,

anywhere his lips could find.

“But you love me,” he laughs, resting his forehead onto hers. “Right?”

Liv nods. “I do.”

The look on Noah’s face sends a feeling of warmth throughout her body as she finally closes the distance between them.

And she knows that the thoughts Noah had today might appear again,

that he would have moments of doubt—of uncertainty.

But when he does,

she’ll be by side.

#when this happens it probably won't be this dramatic #but i'm feeling kinda dramatic atm #skamnl #skam nl #liv x noah #skamfic

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loveseungs · 6 years

Text

irony p. ii

a/n: heck here it is i just love words dont i also note: tumblr is being BadTM and broke all links so if u want p 1 just pls search for it on my blog

↠ pairing: lee felix x reader ↠ word count: 13.07k ↠ warnings: female reader ↠ genre: fluff, angst, soulmate au ↠ part: one, two ↠ summary:

In a world where soulmates exist, love is still a gamble.

Bus rides home were usually filled with white noise and thoughts about work. But there was something about the steady pitter-patter of the rain and the hazy blur of life around you that lead you to plug in your earphones and listen to music.

It was tormenting. The catchiest beats were also the saddest ones, making your heart swell up at every relatable lyric. It was as if Spotify was playing with the strings of your heart, plucking them like an instrument every time a song about heartbreak came into your queue.

You were stuck in a state of paradox. The more you tried to forget, the more you tried to erase him who was in your heart, the more you remembered. You hated him because you knew that you couldn’t truly bring yourself to hate him.

Timing never seemed to be right with the two of you. If only you’d discovered that he was your destiny a few years later, maybe everything would have worked out, but since you found out a little bit too early, the problem then became you being too late to tell him.

A full year had already passed, and it felt like time was stretched. Graduation seemed so long ago after the ball started rolling on your career life. Once you moved to Busan and getting a great albeit stressful job, so many things just seemed to have happened. You convinced yourself of the fact that this was life now, and if this was all you were going to get, you were going to make it as spectacular as possible. Moving on from the mess that was Lee Felix was dealt and done with, however, it’d be a lie if you said you didn’t think about him every once in a while.

Twelve months ago, your arm was always covered in ink. The week you stopped talking to Felix, that’s when they started to appear. A thousand little messages written on your arm every single morning was what you had to wake up to. You’d seen your fair share of ‘I’m sorry’s and ‘I miss you’s, but you weren’t taking any of it. You knew that if you dared to reply once, even just once, you knew you’d just get hurt all over again—it was not something you were willing to risk, even if those annoying writings on your arm caused you to buy more long-sleeved shirts.

Gradually, their appearances lessened until the messages stopped altogether. Something about the absence of the all-too-familiar handwriting finally settled the fact that he was all but a memory that you were to leave in the past.

Occasionally, there were times that the memory of him would be jogged once again, like on this particular bus ride home. Truly, the blame was to be put on the meaningful lyrics and solemn melodies.

Chhhh. This was the part where you got off the bus and shook whatever bad vibes you were feeling out of your mind. This was not the time to feel sad. Not today, not today.

“Oh, you’re home already. How was work?” your grandma greeted from the kitchen, the sound of sizzling oil faintly echoing through the house.

“Shall I tell you over dinner?” You pursed your lips into a smile. “Or do you want to be spoiled? Just a hint, today was fantastic.”

“Well, if that doesn’t tickle my fancy. If you’re gonna start it off like that, sweetie, you might as well just tell me now,” she answered.

You entered the kitchen with a dramatic stride. You stopped for a second to pose, then you took a loud, deep breath. “Your grandkid made it, Nana. I, [L/N] [F/N], have been promoted to the Assistant Brand Manager of the department. Boss said I get a bonus on every third Friday of the month. Isn’t that something?”

“My, my. Won’t you treat your old woman out for dinner one of these days, since you’re now swimming in money? I’d love a steak, dear,” she smiled. “I’m only joking. I am so, so proud of you, darling! We need to celebrate! Come give me a hug!”

You wrapped your arms tightly around your grandmother. “Agh, I’m beyond elated! Shall we go somewhere special?”

“Would you care for some wine, perhaps? I’m cooking beef, so I think it would taste great. Set out the table outside, let’s enjoy the evening breeze. Let’s talk more about your promotion later. Who’s going to take your previous spot on the team?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “Boss said there were some very promising newcomers, and I can only hope they’ll be a good addition and not a downfall to our team. Did you know that our department is one of the most productive ones? Ever since the PR department waged war on us, our productivity rate has doubled in number.”

“Why would you want to wage war on other departments? Mustn’t you work together for the better of the company?”

“Yes!” you replied. “It’s mostly to see who can boost the company’s sales better. We usually compete when we do our weekly reports to the boss. I think Boss secretly knows about the Marketing-PR war because he hasn’t said a word about any of our shenanigans, even if we blatantly express our friendly rivalry. There’s a small scoreboard in the conference room to tally which department did better that week, and it’s updated by the secretary. Boss didn’t order it to be put there, but he hasn’t said anything about it either.”

“It sounds wonderful. That’s quite a great way to promote efficiency in the company,” your grandmother commented, plating the dishes she had prepared for dinner.

“I know! Rumor has it that Boss is planning a company outing where all the departments will go on a head-to-head competition. I don’t know the details, but my co-worker said that she heard it from the janitor who heard it from the secretary,” you went on, “anyway, I’ll save more of the talk for later. Where do you keep the candles? I’ll put some outside as I set the tables.”

“In the left-most wooden drawer—no, not that one. Yes, that one. Glad to hear that work is good for you, honey. Makes me very glad.”

How could you stop a smile from making its way to your face? When you stepped into work the next day, you wore a grin like an expensive article of clothing.

“Somebody’s cheerful today,” your co-worker, Yugyeom mentioned, looking up from his desk. “what’s with the happy demeanor, [Y/N]?”

“Can’t I revel in the fact that I’ve finally been promoted?” you answered, taking a seat at your desk.

“Come on. There must be something else that’s up. Did you get a boyfriend? Meet a soulmate? Win the lotto? Your smile’s so bright, I think I’m going to go blind.” He rolled his eyes.

“No! Gross, I don’t have time for things like that,” you huffed. Leaning in, you whispered, “Listen. There’s a newcomer that’s going to be added to our team. Apparently, he’s from the Daejeon branch of the company, and he’s being transferred here to the Busan office because apparently, he did very well. Do you realize what this means for us? If we get another good employee, we’ll have one more person to help tackle PR on the scoreboard.”

“Damn, girl! Talk about competitive!”

“You know you’re excited, too.”

“Okay, fine. I am. Let’s teach this newcomer to help us in the quest to out-produce PR.”

“Morning, guys,” a familiar voice greeted. You and Yugyeom stood up to bow to your superior.

“Morning, Chan,” you greeted back.

“Woah, no ‘Sir’ for you, huh, [Y/N]?” Yugyeom snickered.

You hit him playfully. “I’ve known Chan since high-school. He’s the one who told me not to call him ‘Sir’. Anyway, is it true that the newcomer’s a good one? Gosh, I can’t wait. This is like fresh meat for us, you know? Do you know his name?”

“How do you know he’s a guy?” Yugyeom asked, raising a brow.

“Heard it from the janitor. Swear the janitor knows everything. Need info? I can get it for you. The janitor makes a pretty good friend,” you explained. “Anyway, like I asked, Chan. Do you have info on him?”

“Actually, [Y/N], I don’t. The Chief of Staff has yet to introduce me to him, which is kind of surprising. But to be fair, I’ve been out on business trips lately, so I’m not all too shocked,” Chan explained. “I hope this person is what make him out to be. Oh, speak of the devil.”

“Hello, all. Good morning. As you know, I’m Mr. Park, Chief of Staff, and I’m here to bring to you the latest addition to your team. As some of you may have heard, he is from our Daejeon branch and is a very capable man. I hope you will all take care of him.”

Chan took one glance at you to make sure you were doing alright, but all he saw was your jaw suspended in the open air, eyes wide.

You felt everything and nothing all at once.

“Everyone, this is Lee Felix, and he will be in charge of product marketing.”

You slammed the door to the office pantry behind you, Chan following inside. As you finished downing an entire cup of coffee, you sputtered, “How could this have happened? Chan! You’re like, the only person who knows what happened between Felix and I during high-school and college!”

“I swear, I didn’t know!” Chan defended, handing you a glass of water to calm you down. “I’m just as shocked as you are, alright? Drink this.”

“Is the world seriously against me?” you grumbled, burying your face in your hands. “Just as things have been looking up, he walks back into my life just like that! Here! In Busan! Where I purposely went so that I could get away from him!”

“Calm down, [Y/N]. Let’s sort this out. But you have to promise me that you won’t let your personal problems get in the way of professionality. I know you’re in shock, but let’s try not to let this get the best of you. Remember, PR’s been on the top of the leaderboard for two weeks straight, and we really need to step up our game,” the older boy spoke, rubbing your shoulder reassuringly. “We’ll try to fix this, yeah?”

“Dear goodness, I sure hope so,” you muttered, setting down the second empty paper cup as you looked at the office through the pantry blinds.

“I knew Felix had a job in marketing, but I didn’t know it was for our company, nevertheless did I expect him to end up here with us. I thought he got hired back in Seoul,” Chan commented, also watching the newcomer through the blinds.

“Right?” you sighed. “What on this good, green earth am I going to do know? I’m going to have to engage in conversation, you know?”

“Well, I suppose you can’t hide from him forever. After all, he… is your—”

“God, Chan. Don’t say it, please. Please don’t remind me,” you begged, shoulders going down in a slump.

Just like that, your joyful morning mood was dampened like the imminent grey clouds on a sunny June day, and now you were left with a situation you couldn’t run from.

A couple of days passed and you successfully avoided having to make any contact with Felix.

Surprisingly, things weren’t as bad as you had expected. You only had to do that obligatory bow when you greeted each other in the hallways, but that was it. You could not have it any other way.

“So… how’s stuff? You doing okay?” Chan asked one lunchbreak, grabbing his chopsticks from the lunch tray.

You gulped the rice in your mouth. “Could not be better. Can you believe it? One week went by without anything more than a couple of seconds of eye-contact and a bow.”

Yugyeom, who was sitting beside you, squinted his eyes. “Wait. Who are we talking about?”

“Uh,” you began, shooting a glance at Chan. “N-No one important, really. Just this person I met.”

“What, blind date outside of work?” he asked.

“No, I don’t have time for dates.”

Your co-worker gave you a goofy smile. “Aw, sucks for me, I just lost my shot.”

“Gross, Mr. Kim!” you laughed.

“I’m joking, I’m joking. Anyway, what’s your soulmate link?”

Great. The taboo question. It was cool, it was cool, you were chill, you were chill. “Oh, uh… why? What’s yours? Have you met your soulmate?”

“I’m a late bloomer, I guess. Lots of my friends have met their soulmates already, but my link says I’m still meeting my soulmate in… a couple of months. I’d show you the tattoo, but no one can see it anyway,” Yugyeom shared, taking a bite of his lunch. “How about you? I asked you first.”

“It’s a drawing link. Whatever’s drawn on my skin shows up on my soulmate’s or vice versa,” you said quietly, sipping your water. “But I’m not too hung up on the soulmate idea. Did you know that Chan’s real lucky? He scored a jackpot. Have you seen his girlfriend? She’s super nice. She and Chan are like the older siblings I never had.”

“Hey, but it was hard. You know, I had such a hard time with visual projects back in school before I met her. I had to keep asking my friends to tell me if my presentations looked good because really, I couldn’t tell. If I worked on them alone, they’d probably have the color scheme of ugly sweaters. So glad I can see color now, or else I probably would have a difficult time here in the company,” Chan chuckled at the thought. “By the way, she’s asking if you wanna come over some time for dinner. She misses hanging out with you, you know.”

“Oh for sure. How about this Saturday evening? I need to tell her about the recent news. Unnie’s gonna freak,” you asked Chan while you noted the schedule down on your phone.

“Hey, I thought you were gonna help me that evening with the project Boss assigned us?” Yugyeom piped up. “Don’t tell me you’re gonna cancel!”

“Relax, Mr. Kim. Let’s do that over lunch. No need to worry,” you told him.

Just then, you felt a gentle tap on your shoulder and you turned around hastily, wiping your mouth.

Standing there with a hand at the back of his head was He-Who-Shan’t-Be-Named.

“Uh… Ms. [L/N]?”

‘Ooh, never thought I’d hear my last name roll off his tongue. Whatever, that’s to be expected,’ you thought.

“Sorry to bother you during lunch, but I need you to look over some paperwork that you submitted. Some of it wasn’t completed,” the freckled boy announced, handing you a folder.

You raised a brow. “Have I not? I could have sworn that I checked over these twice. I never submit incomplete paperwork.”

“A-Ah, is that so? But look here, there’s a blank space.”

You scanned the papers in your hands thoroughly. Glancing beside you, you inquired, “Mr. Kim, I thought this section of the paperwork was your job?”

Yugyeom took the folder from you. “What’s this? I didn’t send you the complete copy?”

“No?”

“Sorry, Mr. Lee. This was a fault on my part. It’s true, Ms. [L/N] never submits incomplete paperwork. I’ll have these files ready by 13:30, after lunch. Apologies for the inconvenience,” Yugyeom apologized, bowing.

Felix sported a polite smile. “Oh, it’s alright. I’m so sorry for the confusion, Miss [L/N]. Thank you for your hard work.”

“Um, you’re welcome.”

Caw. Caw. Caw.

“Well, I’ll be on my way. Enjoy the rest of your lunch, Ms. [L/N], Mr. Kim, Sir Bang,” Felix bowed, dragging his legs towards the opposite direction.

When he was out of sight, you leaned in to whisper, “If that wasn’t the most awkward two minutes of my entire company experience! I was doing so well up until this moment. I told you it’s best if I don’t talk to him!”

“What’s up with you and Mr. Newbie? You two know each other?” Yugyeom pressed, letting his chin rest on his hand. “Oh my. Don’t tell me—he’s the guy you went on a blind date with!”

“Lower your volume!” you scolded. “And ew, no! I already told you, I don’t have time for blind dates.”

“So give me a good reason as to why you’re apparently avoiding him!”

Chan came to the rescue. “Oh, we all went to the same high-school. [Y/N] and Feli—Mr. Lee used to go to the same college. She’s just had some weird encounters with him, is all.”

You nodded as if to agree with your superior. “Yup. Although don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to let it affect my work. Professionalism is professionalism.”

“Oh, is that right? Mm, didn’t know that,” Yugyeom answered, “anyway, let’s head back to our department. Lunch break is ending and I gotta fix this paperwork.”

The conference room door closed slowly behind as you and Chan made your way out from the most recent meeting. People from PR gave you both a smirk before heading towards their department. You clutched your fists in frustration and bore holes into their backs while stomping to the opposite direction.

“Just because they’ve gotten a lead on the scoreboard makes them think they can act like that, huh,” you hissed, rolling your eyes. “I swear, I’m working overtime this week.”

Chan placed a hand on your shoulder and stopped you. “Calm down, it’s gonna be alright, okay? Besides, we should be happy that they’re doing good for the company. Don’t get me wrong, I hate their department with my guts, but it’s nice to see Boss smiling at the good reports. But here’s the catch. Next week, we’re having the company outing. I’ve yet to announce it to the department, so keep your mouth quiet. I received the e-mail this morning, and it’s going to be held in Jeju island. There’s going to be lots of activities. Boss thinks it’s a good investment to have a fun company outing to, quote unquote, ‘promote bonding in the workplace’.”

You gasped and pointed at Chan. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”

“We get to totally mow down PR in competition?”

“The prize is yet to be announced, and yes. We’re going to kill it. Of course, that means everyone in the department has to double-time this week so that we can enjoy the outing without thinking of work. How’s the project I assigned you doing?” Chan questioned.

From behind you, a voice spoke. “Uh, sorry to intrude, but I couldn’t help but overhear you two talking about the company outing. According to Secretary Bambam, each department is going to stay in separate guest houses. Do you need some help, Ms. [L/N]?” Yugyeom brought up, joining in on the conversation.

“Help? For what?” you asked, raising a brow.

Yugyeom put a hand to his mouth. “Don’t you have some kind of uncomfortable business with Mr. Lee, the newbie? I don’t know, I thought you’d be bothered.”

“Mr. Kim!” Chan boomed. “Don’t let [Y/N]’s personal matters affect how you interact with the people on our team. The least we need is division amongst ourselves. Where even did you get the information on the outing? You’re not supposed to know yet.”

“Why hide it? As I was making coffee in the staff room, Secretary Bambam offhandedly mentioned it to me,” Yugyeom answered, holding his clipboard.

“I’m sure it’s not going to be so bad,” you reassured the two boys, heading over to your desk. “Thank you for the offer, Mr. Kim.”

“This is so bad,” you grumbled, throwing different articles of clothing on your bed. There were all sorts of knick-knacks flying around your tiny room, scattered any place a knick-knack could be.

Just then, the door to your room opened and your grandma stepped in, raising her hands in surprise. “Woah, woah, woah! What’s going on in here? Your room looks like a jungle of clothes! I said pack for your trip, not unleash the beast, sweetie.”

You let out an exasperated groan as you shut the door of your closet. “Sorry, grandma. I’m just a little stressed thinking about the trip.”

“Come sit,” the older woman insisted, patting the empty spot on your bed beside her. “Tell me what’s wrong. To think this trip is supposed to be a celebration for the numerous victories your company has been making these past few months.”

“It’s not the company, grandma,” you admitted, taking a seat beside her. “It’s…it’s just that I have to deal with being stuck in a house with someone I wish I didn’t need to be with.”

“Hmm? That’s strange, I always thought you to be one of the more amiable people at work. Are you not friends with everybody?”

You sucked in your breath and prepared for what was about to come. “There’s this one guy. His name is Lee Felix… and… he’s… my soulmate.”

“Oh my.”

Right then and there, you decided that you could no longer keep up the bubbling vexations you buried deep in your chest. From the moment you met him until the very moment those years of friendship ended, you told her everything, not sparing a single important detail. By the time you finished up your story, your face was puffy and your eyes were red. The nighttime breeze howled quietly in the background, enveloping you in a chill.

“A-And recently, I thought I was doing okay, but he decided to take another stride back into my life. I mean, it’s all good at work, but it’s been so hard to focus lately and I don’t know why. I know I’m over him, and I’ve resigned to not thinking about soulmates or finding love or whatever. But every time I see that damned face of his, things come flooding into my mind,” you sniffled, blowing your nose. Your grandma rubbed soothing circles on your back, listening to every word that you spoke. “It doesn’t help that PR is doing better than Marketing lately, and I can’t help but think that maybe I’m slacking off a bit or something.”

“Oh, sweetheart. Here, drink some water,” your grandma began, “if you’ll let me, may I share what I think about your situation?”

“Go ahead, grandma. I’m so sorry for crying.”

“Sweetie, no, don’t do that. It’s okay to cry. But you know, I think the reason why you’ve become so competitive at work, the reason you’ve been under a lot of stress lately, the reason why you hold anger in your heart towards Felix despite saying that you’ve moved on from him, even the reason why you always apologize for crying—all those reasons are the same. From what I’ve been hearing, I think you need to re-examine what’s really in there,” she explained, pointing at your left chest where your heart was. “Ever since Felix, you’ve blamed yourself for everything. Because you knew you got hurt, you sorta… how should I say this… resigned yourself into thinking ‘I’m never going to get hurt like that again’. You made that mistake, and you’ve been beating yourself over it for these past few years.”

“I-I have?”

“Honey, I have to tell you. It’s okay to make mistakes. It’s okay,” your grandma said, pulling you into a hug. “And honestly, I think the person who needs forgiveness most now isn’t Felix, but you. Forgive yourself, [Y/N]. It’s alright that you stumbled along the way.”

Your face crumpled. It was true. You felt so… so raw in front of your grandmother who saw right through you, who saw right through your heart. Everything somewhat fell into place, and you realized the reason you were hurting. And it felt good, to have finally admitted what you were hiding deep down for so long.

“So… what do I do now, grandma?” you asked, voice coming out as a choke. “What now?”

“It’s your choice if you want to, at the very least, tolerate him or let him go. Whatever you choose, know that I’m proud of you for taking those steps. Now go pack, it’s getting late and you’re supposed to meet up with the team early tomorrow. Please bring a jacket.”

“I will,” you replied, watching your grandmother get up and head out of your room. “Hey grandma?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Thank you.”

The sun was barely out, but you and your team were already outside the company building waiting for the van. The sounds of yawning and drowsy morning chatter filled the atmosphere.

Just before you left the house, your grandma left you some rice cakes on the table. A note saying ‘Eat well and enjoy <3’ came with it, helping you start your day off with a smile. As your team lined up to board the ferry, you bit into a rice cake, letting your teeth sink into the soft delicacy. Wow. It was beyond scrumptious.

The vicinity was getting a little bit warm as the sun began its ascent into the higher areas of the sky, causing you to remove the jacket you were wearing, As you tied the piece of clothing to your waist, you couldn’t help but notice a scribble on your left arm, just below your wrist.

‘Would you ever consider giving me one of your rice cakes? I’m so sorry, I saw you eating some and I haven’t had breakfast. It’s alright if you decide not to. I’ll wash off the ink with hand sanitizer.’

You jerked your head up, scanning the crowd for a certain someone. When your eyes landed on an all-too-familiar freckled boy, he reciprocated your stare with a sheepish smile.

You did a double-take. Should you forfeit your streak of barely having to interact with him or offer a rice cake to your hungry co-worker who would probably really need to eat something before leaving to engage in several tiring activities? Damn it, you knew he loved rice cakes.

Hesitantly, you shuffled over to Felix, who waved to you and bowed as you approached him. “Uh, good morning, Fe—Mr. Lee.”

“Hi, Miss [L/N]. Get my note?” the boy asked, pointing to your arm. Damn, you knew about his booming voice, but you’d forgotten just how deep his pitch was.

“The chicken scratch handwriting was quite hard to miss.”

“I’m sorry for using this particular means of communication. I just… I’m finding it a little difficult to talk to you, no offense.”

“None taken,” you answered, handing him a rice cake. “You’ll just really do anything for a rice cake, huh?”

In seconds, the poor rice cake was scarfed down. Felix wiped his mouth with his jacket sleeve. “I’m surprised you remember.”

“Like I’ll ever forget the reason half my lunch was always missing back in high-school,” you scoffed. “Here, you can have one more. I have more food in my bag anyway. Why’d you skip breakfast?”

‘Damn it, [Y/N]!’ you thought to yourself. ‘What the hell is up with you? I thought we agreed to just hand him a rice cake and leave?!’

“I live a bit far from here. I couldn’t miss the bus,” he answered, adjusting the neck pillow sitting comfortably on his shoulders. It was sort of endearing, how the neck pillow was themed to be a cute teddy bear design. Felix yawned. “And I didn’t sleep too well last night. Had to do some last-minute paperwork because somebody turned in their files late. Thank you so much, by the way. Your kindness will not be forgotten.”

“You’re welcome. And oh, I can imagine how awful that is. Late paperwork, I mean. I feel bad for nagging our co-workers to send me files, but in the end, it gets the job done, you know,” you replied, straightening your back. “Anyway, if that will be all, I’m just gonna—”

“Wait, don’t go!” Felix sputtered, grabbing a hold of your arm. He quickly released it, ears turning red. “A-Ah, sorry. I just wanted to ask you something about PR.”

“PR? Huh. Go shoot,” you mused, and you could still feel the burning spot where Felix’s hand collided with your arm.

“What’s up with this thing I hear about a Marketing-PR war?”

As you opened your mouth to speak, Chan interrupted you with a tap. “Hey, [Y/N], I need to borrow a pen.”

You fished for your trusty gel pen from your backpack and handed it to Chan, who began to look around and tick off boxes on his clipboard. Taking a peek at the clipboard, you saw that he was just doing a headcount.

“That’s our leader-nim, huh?” you teased, playfully giving Chan a nudge. He rolled his eyes.

“I’ll give your pen back later, I need it for a while. Go line up over there already, the van is leaving in ten minutes,” Chan answered, walking away.

Felix began to make his way to the spot that Chan had instructed you both to go to, and you followed right behind. As soon as he set his luggage down on the floor again, he turned to you. “So… Marketing-PR war?”

“Oh yeah,” you nodded, remembering. “It’s kind of a long story, but I guess it’s important to know the origins of the great Marketing-PR battle. I can tell you about it on the way, but only if you’re truly ready to hear the origins.”

“I mean sure. We’re spending a lot of time in the van anyway, so we have plenty of time to kill.” Felix suggested. “I’m so glad Boss booked the high-speed car ferry. A trip that would usually take five hours is cut down to two.”

“Good, good, sure. I only have so much downloaded drama on my phone to kill time. So anyway, since we have a lot to cover, I better start. It begins when Sir Park Jinyoung—not the CEO, the head of PR—gets one of Marketing’s most competent workers, Choi Youngjae.”

“Thank everything we’re here,” Yugyeom breathed, grabbing his duffle bag from the trunk. “I thought we’d never make it.”

“On the bright side, Mr. Lee finally knows the deep, dark past of Marketing and PR,” Chan mentioned, helping Yugyeom get his bags.

“Yeah, um, after we got interrupted like, ten times.” You rolled your eyes. “I could have told the whole story in one hour, but you kept cutting in and getting side-tracked. Did Mr. Lee have to know about the Ramen Incident?”

“Okay, fine, whatever. Let’s go settle in the guest house. Boss wants us to meet in the conference hall at 1:00 sharp. He’s going to brief everyone on the activities,” Chan retorted.

“Boss is here?” Felix questioned, tilting his head to the side.

“Yeah, he’s here to oversee the activities. Usually, he’d send the secretary, but since two entire departments are here, he came,” Yugyeom answered.

The four of you wheeled in your luggage into the cozy-looking cabin, which turned out to be more modern and restful that you’d expected. The inside was simple and minimalistic but sported a few home-esque touches. There were four bedrooms to be split between the team, but Chan had already assigned them. The girls would have the rooms upstairs while the guys would stay in the two downstairs. You were more than thankful to have a sensible roommate—her name was Jihyo and she was one of the more responsible ones on the marketing team.

“I’m relieved that we got here in one piece,” Jihyo commented, setting down her bags in the closet. “I’m surprised that Mr. Kim didn’t blow up the van.”

You chuckled. “Sometimes, I wonder how he’s even considered a grown man.”

“Right? Also, would you like some mosquito spray? I hear that it gets very bugsy outside,” she offered, holding up a bottle.

“How could I have scored such an awesome roomie? Thank you so much,” you grinned, spraying the product on your skin.

As soon as you both finished settling down, you made your way downstairs to meet the others. Once everyone was there, the Marketing team headed outside towards the conference hall, where your boss was waiting.

“Oh, nice. We made it first,” Chan mentioned, taking a seat on one of the plastic chairs.

You plopped down beside him. “Plus points to Marketing for being punctual.”

In a few seconds, a group of people started to pile into the venue one by one, and you recognized them as the terrible faces of PR. The engine of competitiveness was revving up as the minutes passed.

“Welcome to the long-awaited JYP company outing,” the one and only CEO boomed into the mic, “it’s nice to see that many of you were able to come.”

An applaud echoed throughout the hall.

“Anyhow, I’d not like to keep you here any longer. I’m sure that you are all famished by the travel and have not gotten the chance to eat a proper lunch yet. Worry not and let that be one of the driving forces for you all to give your best at the activities. The schedule is as follows: at 1:30 PM, the Relay Race will start. It will take around one to two hours, so I expect it to be over at around 3:00 PM. I will now announce the mechanics of the Race. Secretary Bambam, please flash the slides,” your Boss announced.

“Alright. You are now here,” he stated, pointing a laser at a spot on the screen. “Each team will go through a series of obstacles throughout the area. All these obstacles have been tailored to test your skills as employees, of course, as to not waste such a valuable opportunity to incorporate training and recreation. Some of these include creating a campaign for a product on the fly and trying to persuade me, who will act like a customer, to buy the said product. Each time you beat one obstacle better than the other team, you gain one point. Whoever gains the most points by the end of the Race gets quite the grand prize. At JYP, we don’t plan shabby company outings. At JYP, we allow our employees to have a chance at a fabulous prize, and this year, the winning department not only gets a delicious barbeque sponsored by our clients but also a bonus for next month’s paycheck.”

The entire hall erupted in cheer, everyone clearly enthused at the sound of the word ‘bonus’, which was just like an angelic choir.

“Right now, you all have a couple of minutes to plan out your strategies. Here are the list of ‘obstacles’ you will be facing, and I suggest you take time to assign your best people to the activities that they are most likely to do well at. At 1:30 sharp, Secretary Bambam will ring a bell and everyone should be off. Time starts now! Enjoy, everyone. See you at the finish line.”

You took one look at the screen in front and Chan was already motioning for your department to come and huddle.

“Alright, so for activity one, we need our most persuasive members. Ms. Park, Mr. Yang, I think you’d be most suited for that. Mr. Kim, I’m assigning you to face off in that dance battle,” Chan instructed.

“Are you kidding me?” Yugyeom shrieked. “Actually, you know what, sure. I’d rather do that than try to come up with a marketing scheme for Boss. Did you know I’ve won several awards for dancing in college? If I wasn’t in this company, I’d probably rocking the stag—”

“Not now! Anyway, Ms. Im, I’ll trust you to activity three. We all need to work together for activity four, then for the final activity—oh.”

Chan glanced at you, then glanced at Felix. You caught sight of that began to shake your head vigorously.

“Chan, whatever you’re thinking, NO.”

Your superior walked over to you and whispered, “[Y/N], we both know you and Felix can annihilate anyone in a three-legged race.”

“That was in high-school!” you defended, rubbing your palms together. “There’s no way—why is that activity even on the list?! Everyone knows the three-legged race is just so that people can poke fun at the contestants.”

“Think about PR winning that sweet, sweet bonus that we’re supposed to snag,” Chan tempted, etching a horrible image in your mind.

You did a double-take. “Fine, fine! But only because I hate PR’s guts more than I can humanely bear. Damn it.”

The score was currently tied, and it was down to the last obstacle: the dreaded three-legged race. ‘Of course this was how it was going to pan out,’ you thought to yourself, ‘because the universe hates me and loves to play with my life.’

While Yugyeom was busy bragging about his epic win at the dance show-off, you were bent down, tying a ribbon around your leg and Felix’s.

“Hey,” Felix began, clearing his throat. “Sorry you had to end up with me. I can tell you’re pretty bummed out.”

You whipped your head to him and your cheeks started to flush. “U-Uh, that isn’t it. It’s fine, really. Let’s just totally kill PR, alright?”

“You still got that three-legged race spirit in you?” he asked, stretching his arms. “Or has it withered away over the years?”

“I will never, ever give up my secret talent for three-legged races.”

“We’ll see about that. Wanna test it out? Let’s walk from here to there. No stumbling.”

You scoffed and nodded. In a few seconds, Felix found a way to snake his arms around your waist and a glare was quickly sent in his direction.

“What? Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten that this is the only way we can advance faster. Tried and tested, remember?” Felix piped up, adjusting his footing. “It’s how we beat that loser from Class B in high-school.”

“Alright already, let’s get this over with. Test from here to the water bottle?”

“Yup. One, two, three, go.”

Just like he said, the extra support from his grasp allowed for you both to move swiftly. It wasn’t long until you were able to reach the water bottle finish-line.

“See, told you.”

“Okay, contestants! Please make your way to the starting line now for the final battle, the tiebreaker!” Secretary Bambam announced over a microphone.

“How are you guys doing? You alright?” Chan’s voice came from behind you, causing you both to turn your heads in unison.

“Still got it, Sir Bang. The three-legged race has always been something me and Ms. [L/N] will always conquer with flying colors. Watch us win the department a bonus and a barbeque,” Felix grinned, giving Chan a thumbs-up.

“Can’t wait to see PR’s crushed faces. This is gonna be a breeze.” You saluted.

“Actually,” Chan started, leaning into a whisper. “You might wanna look over there. This is actually going to be quite close.”

Turning your head to the other side, you caught a glimpse of two familiar men. A gasp escaped your mouth.

“Wang and Tuan?!” you screamed, making Chan shoot you a look that said ‘shut-up’.

“What’s wrong with Wang and Tuan?” Felix questioned, head still turned in their direction.

You rubbed your temples in frustration. “Um, yes, you heard me. It just had to be the damned Wang and Tuan! They’re notorious for being one of the company’s most athletic individuals. We might as well surrender now because Mr. Tuan used to be in the track team back in the day and Mr. Wang once tried to match the speed of a moving car.”

“Hey, I used to be in Taekwondo! I have legs, Ms. [L/N]. Legs for days,” Felix replied.

“It’s indeed going to be a tough one, but we don’t know how well Mr. Wang and Mr. Tuan can run as a duo. For all we know, they’re amazing solo runners but terrible once their legs are tied together,” Chan encouraged.

“Nope.” You pointed at the two men who were jogging together in place. “Look at that coordination.”

“Okay, I hate to do this, but I know spite is the greatest motivator for you, [Y/N],” Chan started, balling his hands into a fist. “Remember when you were stressing over late paperwork the other day and wanted chocolate milk but found out there were none left in the staff room?”

“Yeah, and?”

“Wang took the last one,” Chan stated as-a-matter-of-factly.

“He didn’t.”

“Oh, but he did. When I went over to PR to hand in some files, I saw him sipping the last carton of chocolate milk.”

“That piece of scum,” you seethed, grabbing on to Felix’s waist. “That’s it, Felix. We’re taking them down.”

“Oh, we’re on first-name basis now?” the freckled boy asked innocently, putting his arm on your waist as well.

“This is war,” you declared, “we’re partners now. And today, we’re going to wipe off the dregs of society from this earth.”

Crackle. Crackle. A wave of heat kissed your face as a puff of smoke danced with the air. And the smell of charcoal was absolutely disgusting, but it was the single sweet reminder that everybody needed and deserved.

“Are we ready?” Yugyeom whispered, hiding behind your back.

“Let’s get cooking.”

Within seconds, the entirety of the Marketing team was scrambling to grab a hold of a piece of barbeque, hungry employees bustling left and right. After winning the competition, food was screaming to be devoured. It was three in the afternoon and nobody’d eaten lunch yet.

“Wait!” Chan cleared his throat. “Do we have drinks? I would like to make a toast.”

“Uh…” Jihyo drawled, eyeing the vicinity. “We have paper cups, but no drinks. Seriously? Who plans a barbeque with no drinks?”

“Doesn’t matter, I’ll go to the store. I heard it’s not far from here,” you offered, shoving your hands in the pockets of your jacket.

“I’ll go with you in a second,” Chan answered, grabbing a paper cup, “but before we eat, to [Y/N] and Felix! The ones who trampled over PR during the tiebreak! Raise a glass!”

A cheer erupted from everyone’s mouths as empty paper cups were raised in the air to honor the victory that belonged to the team.

“Oh, can I come with? There’s a couple of things I wanna buy, too,” Yugyeom asked, walking towards you.

“You guys go ahead, I’ll save you some barbeque,” Felix suggested, waving. “Congrats to us. Go get the team some refreshing stuff!”

The three of you made your way out of the area and onto the streets, searching for a nearby grocery or convenience store.

After what seemed like miles of walking, your feet finally brought you in front of a small grocery. You didn’t hesitate to walk right in and pick up a basket.

The humble store consisted of a few shelves with worn-out paint lined up neatly in rows and holding all kinds of snacks and delights. The gentle whirring coming from the back lead you to a clear refrigerator with different drinks, and pretty soon, the metal basket in your hands was filled with several bottles. These were piled onto the counter along with a couple bags of chips, courtesy a snacky Yugyeom.

“What?” he said when you started to eye him judgingly, throwing the chip bags on the cashier tabletop. “It’s for my midnight cravings and the trip back home.”

You rolled your eyes, handing the cashier your credit card in exchange for your purchases. After getting your card back, the three of you headed back outside. Chan stopped in his tracks.

“Wait, so from here, did we take a left turn or a right turn? Right, right?”

“Pretty sure it was a left turn, Chan.”

“What?! You two are crazy, we came from straight ahead! I saw that sign with the cute cats earlier.”

“Okay, Mr. Kim, we’re trusting you.”

“Just drop the honorifics already. It’s alright.”

A minute passed… then two… then five…

“This isn’t the way that we came from.”

“You know what? This is why we live in a technological world. Let me just Google Maps this,” Yugyeom scoffed, pulling out his phone. “Aaaaaand… it says my line was cut off because I forgot to pay the bill. Cool, cool. Chan?”

“I left my phone in the room earlier because I didn’t want it to be hurled around during the race,” Chan answered. “[Y/N], you?”

A trickle of sweat slipped down your forehead. “Phone’s been dead for over an hour. I used it to record Wang and Tuan’s devastated faces after the competition.”

“Um, excuse me,” Chan attempted, trying to ask an elderly lady for help. She waved him off, muttering something about dangerous strangers.

“Right, so we’re lost, no help, and completely foreign-looking streets. What could get worse?” Yugyeom mumbled all pessimistic.

The clouds rumbled above.

“Seriously?!” Chan breathed out, gesturing for you three to wait under the shade of the grocer’s storefront. “Situational irony? Isn’t this just fantastic?”

“Hold on,” you began, turning to the oldest of you three. “Chan, do you still have the pen I lent you earlier before you left? You said you needed to check attendance.”

“Oh yeah, as a matter of fact, I do,” he replied, fishing in his pocket for the said pen. “Here.”

You took it hastily, taking a deep breath before engaging in the one thing you had never thought you’d do in your lifetime. Flipping the cap open, you began to write down a couple of words on your arm.

“Hi, Felix. Please tell me when you see this. It’s really urgent. Chan, Yugyeom, and I are stranded in a grocery, phones dead. Could you come pick us up at XX Grocer with umbrellas?”

“What? How’s that supposed to help us? It’s not like the words will magically float off into cyberspace,” Yugyeom commented, confused.

Your cheeks began to feel warm. After casting a worried look to Chan, you shut your eyes and began to spill your secret.

“I-It’s…um… whatever I write on my arm will show up on Felix’s arm and vice versa,” you explained quietly, keeping your eyes fixated on your arms for any sign of response.

“Don’t tell me,” Yugyeom gasped, “he’s the one you’re soulmates with?!”

“She’s known since high-school,” Chan sighed, “but there are reasons as to why they’re not… you know. Together. [Y/N] doesn’t particularly like to talk about it.”

“No, it’s alright,” you waved it off, “I can tell you, just please don’t tell anyone. Um, actually, Felix and I used to be best friends, but some complicated things happened and we fought. After college, I went to Busan to try to start a new life, but in the end, I couldn’t escape him.”

“O-Oh, were you guys dating? Did he know you were here?” Yugyeom inquired, genuinely curious.

As the drops of rain started to pour around, you answered, “No, we never dated. And it’s all been purely coincidence. I didn’t know he was coming and neither did he. That’s why it was so difficult for us to interact when he first came.”

“Everything makes sense!” Yugyeom exclaimed, making an explosion gesture with his hands. “Wait, did he reply to your arm message?”

You looked down at you arm again and sure enough, the familiar chicken scratch writing appeared.

“I’ll be there in a bit. Stay dry! I’ll try to be as quick as possible.”

“Okay, good. We’re saved.” Chan let out a breath of relief.

In fifteen minutes, Felix was shuffling across the street towards you three, an umbrella in one hand and his phone in the other.

“Why’d you guys go so far? There was literally a convenience store right beside the place we’re staying at,” Felix questioned, unzipping his bag. “Here’s an extra umbrella.”

“Sir Bang—Chan… can I speak with you for a bit on the way home? There’s a bit of concern with one of the Marketing members and I need to discuss it with you,” Yugyeom piped up, grabbing the umbrella from Felix’s hands. “If you don’t mind, I’ll share this with Chan. It’s a personal matter.”

Chan didn’t even get a chance to object before he was pulled away by a swift Yugyeom, who began to babble about his concerns. You and Felix watched them mosey away, chattering about whatever was to be chattered about.

“Uh, let’s go?” Felix cleared his throat, holding the umbrella. You stepped in and began to walk back to the company outing’s venue.

For a while, all that could be heard was just the pitter-patter of the rain as you trudged on in silence. The quietness was so suffocating, you swear you could hear the cawing of a crow muffled beneath the sounds of the rain.

“Hey… you’re getting wet,” the freckled boy mentioned, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer to him. He dropped his hand quickly after, opening his mouth to speak. “Sorry if this makes you uncomfortable to be so near me, but I just don’t want you to get wet.”

You shook your head. “No, it’s okay. Thank you for being so considerate. And for picking us up.”

“It’s no problem, although this?” he said, riding up his jacket sleeve to expose the scribbles on his arm. “A message saying that you were stranded wasn’t exactly what I hoped your first ever arm message to me would be. I’ve been thinking about it lately, and I really wished you might’ve saved it to notify me that you brought rice cakes to work or something.”

A giggle escaped your lips as the thought entered your mind. “Well, sorry that an emergency message isn’t as cool as rice cakes. But now that you’ve expressed your sentiments, maybe I will bring rice cakes and use our connection to notify you.”

“I can’t believe you thought of contacting me that way. Couldn’t you have texted?”

“Well, Chan’s phone was left behind, Yugyeom hasn’t payed his bills, and mine’s dead. And even if mine wasn’t dead, I don’t have your number.”

“Ouch, you deleted my number after moving?”

“…I uh… got a new phone?”

“Nah, I’m just kidding you. It’s alright, I totally get it.”

Just as you arrived at the entrance of the recreation center, you halted your steps and turned to Felix.

For the first time in a very, very long time, you found the strength to look him in the eyes. “Uh… wait. I just wanted to tell you something.”

“Hm?” He turned to you as well, matching your stare. Why were your legs feeling wobbly? Your palms were starting to sweat as well, and you cursed yourself for it. Speaking to Felix properly and serious was something you found extremely difficult to do, but you decided to stop acting like he was a disease you didn’t want to catch.

With a deep breath, you began, “So… it kinda felt nice to be able to talk to you again. You know, not about work. Just…normally. I guess, what I wanted to say was, uh, well, is it okay if we restart? Be friends, maybe? I really hate this discomfort between us, and I think it would be better, even for work, if we got along.”

Silence enveloped the air once again, leaving the both of you in the company of the rain and the passing cars. Thoughts of Felix lashing out and angrily speaking back to you flashed in your head; suddenly, you wanted to scurry off and never see his face again. What if he called you out on all the horrible things you’d done to him in the past? You braced yourself for anger, for rejection.

But instead, the boy in front of you broke into a grin. He even chuckled a little, reaching out his hand.

“Well, in that case,” he spoke, “hi. I’m Lee Felix, it’s nice to meet you. You can call me Felix.”

You grabbed his hand and shook it. “Hey, Felix. I’m [L/N] [Y/N], but feel free to just stick with [Y/N]. Friends?”

“Sure. Friends.”

Months after declaring the newfound restart, the budding flower of friendship began its ascent into full bloom. Often times, you asked your grandmother to make you some extra rice cakes to bring to work, that of which you shared with Felix. Sure enough, you kept your promise of notifying him through a small doodle of a rice cake on your wrist. You could have sworn you saw his eyes light up every time he noticed what was on his wrist. There were even nights that you two would stay behind to work on projects together, bringing snacks and drinks to keep you guys powered throughout the extra hours. Productivity rate in your team increased due to you and Felix’s hard work, and this did not go by unnoticed.

As he was passing by Felix’s desk, Chan couldn’t help but notice that Felix’s usually busy computer screen was shut off and that his freckled junior was staring intently at something in his hands. One look over his shoulder and Chan couldn’t help but smile.

He cleared his throat. “What’s that?”

The poor boy almost leaped out of his seat. Shoving the object behind his back, Felix responded, “What’s what?”

Chan motioned to Felix’s hands. “Whatever’s behind you.”

A trickle of sweat dripped down Felix’s clammy fingers. “Just a photo.”

“Ooh, can I see?” Chan pressed on, already knowing exactly what it is the boy held.

“N-No, hyung.”

“Come on. Don’t make me pull the superior card.”

“Fine!” Felix revealed the photo to the man in front of him, ears turning crimson. “Look, I found our graduation picture while rummaging through some of my old stuff, okay? It’s just got me thinking, like…I didn’t realize how much I missed [Y/N] over time. It seems like forever since we graduated high-school, and I still remember how it felt being her best friend. Sometimes, when I see her laugh with Yugyeom, I’m reminded of the times I used to be able to make her laugh like that. I don’t know, I sorta miss it, um, a lot.”

“Hold up, are you jealous of Yugyeom?” Chan raised a brow.

Felix hesitated, turning away. “Don’t phrase it like that, please.”

“Felix,” Chan started, breaking into a grin. “Do you like [Y/N]?”

“Is that so weird?” Felix huffed, burying his face in his arms. “I mean like, she’s my soulmate. But more than that, she’s a friend I really, really treasure. Like, I’ve been thinking about it and it would really suck if she wasn’t in my life. So I kinda came to the conclusion that okay, fine. When I talk to her, it’s not as much so to ask for rice cakes but to actually converse with her. And that I um, do like her. But honestly, between you and me?”

“Yeah?”

“There’s a chance this whole ‘liking [Y/N]’ thing isn’t new news.”

Now Chan could only be relieved that his team members (namely you and Felix) were finally getting along well, but Yugyeom, on the other hand, would often sometimes send a wiggle of brows in your direction. Of course, this led you to throw crumpled balls of scratch paper at him, but deep down, you too were glad that the office became a more bearable workplace. You were more than thankful to have a good superior, good co-workers, and even a good boss.

On Tuesdays, you’d bring homemade lunch instead of buying from the office canteen. One fateful Tuesday noon, you stood up as soon as lunchbreak started and headed to the staff room to pick up your boxed lunch to heat it up in the microwave. On your way, you thought about handing some extra gimbap to Chan, Yugyeom, and Felix in gratefulness for being good to you. A smile made its way to your face as you entertained the thought, feeling appreciative and enthused that life had been looking up lately.

Just as you were about to open the door to the staff room, a familiar laugh rang in your eyes. Inside the room happened to be your freckled friend, smiling towards a female employee. You easily recognized her to be one of those PR scumbags, and once the realization hit that Felix was mingling with someone from that bloody department, your blood began to boil.

To make matters worse, you caught sight of him handing her what seemed to be a box—and that was all it took for you to storm into the staff room, take your lunch, and stomp outside in the direction of the canteen.

Once you got to your usual table, you plopped down in front of Yugyeom and hastily opened your lunch box.

“Woah there, tiger. What’s with the attitude?” Yugyeom asked, fiddling with his chopsticks. “Oh and by the way, Chan won’t be joining us. He’s in a meeting.”

“Felix is mingling with a girl from PR!” you huffed, stabbing a slice of gimbap and shoving it in your mouth. Between frustrated chews, you managed to sputter, “I’m so ticked off! He gave her a gift, or something!”

Yugyeom almost spit out his water. “What?! No way.”

“Yes way,” you nodded, wiping your mouth. “Saw them in the staff room being all friendly. I mean come on, ugh!”

“Hold on.” Yugyeom squinted his eyes. “Are you jealous?”

This time, it was your turn to almost spit out your water. “Excuse me? Yugyeom, you know how bad it is for someone to flirt with the enemy!”

“Yeah, but like, you sure you’re not just…I don’t know…pissed that Felix was flirting with someone who isn’t you?”

“The hell?” you hissed. “Felix does not flirt with me.”

Yugyeom sighed and rolled his eyes. “If that’s how you think, you are a lost cause, woman. When you write him notes or whatever on your wrist—which by the way, talk about cheesy!—his face lights up like a Christmas tree. And your banter as you do paperwork? Don’t get me started.”

“He gets excited because goodness knows Felix loves rice cakes more than anything. And office banter is nothing but what it is! What, I can’t argue about the better way to appeal to customers? What’s so romantic about different marketing topics? Seriously, do you know how un-sexy ‘Geographic Segmentation’ sounds? Anyway, I’m still upset that loverboy’s sucking up to PR. I mean, really?” you scoffed.

“Who’s sucking up to PR?” A deep voice came, startling you. When Felix took a seat next to you, you rolled your eyes and stood up. Petty, but absolutely necessary. You weren’t going to stand for anyone who mingled with PR. And just like that, you strut off towards your department, deciding that your table was the best place to eat lunch for now.

“I cannot even bear to see you guys sometimes,” Yugyeom exhaled, watching Felix try to comprehend what had just taken place in front of his eyes.

One entire week had passed since you started to act cold towards Felix, who had not a single clue what on earth was going on. Every time he tried to speak to you, you brushed it off with some lame excuse about having to think of the best way to brand the company’s latest product or that you were busy with paperwork.

“Chan, did I do something?” Felix questioned one Thursday, leaning on his superior’s desk. His face seemed to be clearly distraught by the furrowed eyebrows and pursed lips.

“Why? Did you do something?” Chan shot back, typing away at his laptop.

“I don’t know, man! [Y/N]’s been avoiding me like the plague. And she only does that if I do something wrong. Remember when I didn’t show up to our reunion in high-school? When you and the alumni hyungs wanted to hang at the amusement park but I didn’t go? Yeah, she wouldn’t talk to me because she was so upset,” Felix sighed, rubbing his temples. “This time, I don’t even know what’s up. And it sucks. I miss her rice cakes. It’s been a week.”

“Well, try to think of anything that you might’ve done to piss her off. Take her stapler? Send a late file?” Chan suggested, still not looking up from his screen.

“None of that! I swear, I blinked, and then she was mad. This is such bad timing because I want to ask her out for the holidays, and the break is starting soon. I don’t wanna end the year this way!” Felix whined, shoulders slumping.

“Thank me later,” Chan told him, raising his voice, “[Y/N]! Please come over here. There are some files to be looked over pronto!”

“Coming!” you replied, getting off your chair and walking to your superior’s table. But just as you came, he stood up and grabbed his clipboard.

“Actually, I have a meeting about now. But don’t worry, the file that needs to be looked over is—oh wow! Lee Felix.pdf is right here. Amazing. Love you both, see you at lunch!” With a grin, Chan sauntered off.

You folded your arms and tapped your shoes indignantly. “What, Felix?”

“I’m so sorry about Chan,” he apologized, rubbing his hands together. “But I do need to talk to you. Why have you been ignoring me?”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, I don’t know, Felix. Maybe because someone was being all buddy-buddy last Wednesday with some girl from PR. I mean, are you even for real? How could you flirt with someone from PR?!”

“Wait… are you jealous?”

“Why does everybody automatically assume that I’m jealous?” you snapped. “The answer is no, you idiot! I’m angry because you were mingling with our rivals, our arch nemeses!”

When Felix remembers the events of last Wednesday, a laugh escapes his mouth. “W-What?”

“Don’t ‘what’ me. I clearly saw you being all generous and handing one of the PR girls a gift in the staff room. I have eyes, you know!”

“[Y/N]… no…” Felix started, trying to stifle more laughter. “I wasn’t flirting with her. That girl’s a family friend and I had to return a book that my mom borrowed from her mom. She told me that just because we’re family friends didn’t mean that her department would go easy on us. And I told her, ‘of course’, because I’m loyal to Marketing—I’m loyal to our team. Besides, I already have someone else in mind that I’d like to flirt with.”

You were taken aback. Somewhere deep in the crevices of your heart was a wave of relief mixed with disappointment, but you waved it off and let a giant smirk rest on your lips. “Woah, woah, woah, Lee Felix! Who’s the special someone?”

“Like I’d tell you, cheesebrain.”

“You suck.”

“No, not really. Anyway, you’re going back to Seoul for the break, right?”

“Oh yeah, why?”

“Wanna meet up on the 26th? I’m going home, too,” Felix invited.

“Oh shoot, yeah, sure! I’ll be sure to mark my schedule. I’m free that day anyway. What time to what time?”

“Just keep it flexible. I’ll text you or you know,” Felix motioned to his arm, “maybe I’ll write.”

“Just text me, I might accidentally wash it off.”

“See you then!”

The cold winter air was not the only thing that greeted you once you arrived back in Seoul, no. As soon as you set foot into the familiar gates of your home, your parents and relatives showered you with tight squeezes, slobbery kisses, and all sorts of questions. Were you eating properly? Did you have time to go Christmas shopping? How was work? Did you meet your soulmate yet? Was Busan better than Seoul, or Seoul better than Busan?

As much as you wanted to entertain your family with tales of Busan, settling in after a long travel sounded too good to pass. Once you spent an ample amount of time with them, you headed upstairs to your room.

Ah, your room. Upon opening the door, you took a whiff of the comforting scent of your original room, familiarity embracing you like an old friend. You flopped down on the fluffed-up sheets and could not resist a grin.

It was good to be home.

In a few hours, the grandfather clock in the living room would chime, signaling the start of a new day and the beginning of Christmas itself. But for now, you wanted nothing more but to put your mind at rest, leaving all thoughts of work behind at the doorstep. It was just you, your bed, and the chilly winter weather.

But someone—no, rather something—came to join your cozy trio, and it was right there in bright blue ink on your left wrist.

“Hey there. Get home safely?”

With a smile, you grabbed the gel pen in your bag and started to jot down a response.

“I thought you preferred text.”

“My head hurts and I don’t want to use my phone. I’m just resting in my room and hiding from my sisters, who won’t stop asking me about you.”

“Oh, so you’ve discussed me?”

“[Y/N], you never answered my first question.”

“Righty-o, Sir Lee. I did, indeed, come home fine with Grandma. It was fun to bring her home. The family’s stoked we’ve come.”

“Can I have permission to erase lines with wet wipes every few messages? My arm gets crowded. Also, please use a water-based pen. It makes it easier to wipe off.”

“Just text, then.”

“I deleted your number, too.”

“What the hell, Felix?”

“I’m kidding! See you on Kakao!”

“So, do I wear this sweater or this blouse? Kinda think the blouse is cute, but the sweater’s practical since the weather’s begging to freeze my butt,” you spoke into your laptop, which displayed a video of Chan furrowing his eyebrows as he took a look at your choices.

“You’re worrying too much. Just go with the sweater, it doesn’t make you look any less cute,” Chan snickered, “it’s so fun to watch my little [Y/N] put so much effort into this.”

Your cheeks flushed. “Just shut up and help me, Chan! Skirt, jeans, or leggings?”

“Skirt? Why would you even suggest a skirt? Damn, girl, you’re asking for frostbite at this point. Go with the leggings and make sure to wear leg warmers. Bring a thick coat, too.”

“Okay, mom. But are you sure this doesn’t make me look like a Christmas tree? Maybe a CHRISmas tree!”

Chan rolled his eyes and sighed. “It won’t be cute if your teeth are chattering and your skin begs to be kept warm. Just dress warmly. Hey, hey, what’s with the sigh?”

“Wait. Yo, yo, I just realized something. It’s just going to be me and Felix I think tomorrow. I-Is that a date or something? What if it is?!”

“Calm down. Did he say if it was or not?”

“I don’t know! He just said he was going to spend the day with me!”

A 480p-quality simper sat on Chan’s lips on the screen. “Are you scared because it might be a date or because he might just be asking you out as a friend?”

“I’m not SCARED, Chan! You know what, that’s honestly the least of my concerns!” you answered indignantly. “What if he stands me up? Remember the amusement park fiasco?”

“Relax, [Y/N]. He will NOT stand you up. Have you seen the way he’s been lately? Felix has been overtiming a lot, he’s always punctual and/or early for meetings, and he makes sure to go to all the places he’s assigned to. Whenever he can’t make it, he always messages a day or two in advance. I think that says something.”

“Okay, okay. You’re right. Anyway, I’m going to wash up and go to sleep. Thank you so much for taking the time to video chat me. I’m going to go now, merry Christmas! Say hi to unnie for me, please. Love you, bye.”

“Bye, [Y/N]! Good luck. Text me the details of it all! Merry Christmas. Love you too!”

Was it irregular to be having hands this clammy, to be having palms this sweaty? Felix pressed two fingers to his neck to check his pulse. Okay, great. It was good to know that he was still alive.

‘Agh! This is going to kill me! Please, please, please come soon,’ Felix thought, checking his phone for a new notification. Just in case, he rolled up his padded jacket’s sleeve and checked his arm. Both were devoid of any sign from you.

As if on cue, the freckled boy felt a tap on his back and there you were, bundled up in a cozy outfit. Holy. Crap. He had to fight the urge to squeeze you in his arms.

“H-Hey, [Y/N]. Glad you could make it.” Felix cleared his throat, offering his arm for you to hold. “Um, shall we? Have you eaten lunch?”

“Yeah, I have. You?”

“Same. Anyway, is there anywhere you want to go to?” Felix asked, starting to walk.

You squinted your eyes in thought. “Hmm… I don’t have anything particular in mind.”

“Alright, so it’s 2:45 now. I was thinking that maybe you wanna go to the old arcade? We can spend some time there, then maybe go around the area. Look at a museum if you want.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Laughter filled the air as you clutched your stomach, trying to stop yourself from giggling too much. At this point, you were borderline gasping for air with every guffaw. Felix was doing the same, and he had to hold onto your shoulder to keep himself from stumbling onto the concrete ground.

“I can’t believe you did that, Felix! We could have gotten kicked out of the museum, damn it!” you commented between laughs. “I’m so embarrassed by you now!”

“Not my fault that the little kid wanted to see me bust some dance moves. Yugyeom isn’t the only one in Marketing who can dance, you know,” Felix answered, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Whatever, you doofus. What’s next? It’s pretty dark already, so maybe dinner?” you asked, checking your watch.

Felix cleared his throat and his back started to stiffen. “Actually, I have a place in mind.”

You nodded and proceeded to hail a taxi from the waiting stand. Felix whispered something to the driver and you were off, silently sitting in the backseat.

“Where are we going?”

“Shhh, you’ll see,” was all Felix managed to reply before he looked out the window thoughtfully.

As soon as you arrived at the mystery place, Felix payed the cab driver and helped you get out. When you stepped out of the car, your eyes widened. You’d recognize this area anywhere.

For a little, silence was all that was shared between you two as you walked alongside the riverbank, the one place you knew had a special space for in your heart. Back then, this had been you and Felix’s favorite spot to go to after a tiring school day. And on one fateful December 26th, you were back, walking beside him once again.

The frigid wind left you to huddle a little closer than usual to Felix, who didn’t seem to mind. Gentle brushing of the hands led your fingers to intertwine with his, locking safely in his cozy yet sweaty palms; you could only hope he would not hear the erratic beating of your heart pounding against your ribcage with every passing second. This was happening, this was happening, this was happening—and oh dear, you didn’t dislike it.

A few minutes seemed like eternity with Lee Felix. But eternity wasn’t going to cut it for the scene that lay in front of you, the scene he had brought you to.

Sitting on the riverside was a small tent lit dimly by the soft glow of fairy lights, a sight you’d only managed to conjure up in your head once, long ago. But there it was, every bit of it as real as the warm feeling of Felix’s hands in yours.

Your lips parted. “F-Felix, is this…?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, leading you to the small tent and helping you take a seat inside. “Uh, there’s some soju in that cooler and some gimbap over there if you want. And japchae. Chopsticks are here.”

“When did you have the time to even prepare this? I swear, you’ve been with me all day,” you questioned, reaching for the chopsticks as Felix cracked open the plastic container of gimbap.

He smiled. “Oh, I called for help from people I know who’d never pass up the chance to aid in this surprise.”

You gasped. “Let me guess. Hyunjin? Jisung? Seungmin, Jeongin?”

He gave you thumbs-up. “My boys.”

“Our boys,” you corrected, shoving a piece of kimbap in your mouth.

A few gimbaps and bites of japchae later, you found yourselves in silence once again, sipping soju from little paper cups.

“So…I think this is the part where I start talking,” Felix began, wiping his mouth. He directed his gaze right at your eyes.

“I hope you liked the little surprise, [Y/N]. Even though… technically… it wasn’t my idea, but yours. Actually, the reason I brought you here was because it’s finally time for me to give something to you, very, very long overdue,” he continued, “when we were in highschool, I didn’t expect us to become friends. Frankly, I though that I annoyed you every time I talked to you at the 4419 bus stop. Remember when we first had a proper conversation? Man, after that, the ball just speeded downhill. Before I knew it, we were an inseparable duo. [Y/N] and Felix. Felix and [Y/N]. Hell, I remember getting poked fun at for it, and people were teasing me that I liked you. Which… honestly, I’ve come to realize…was true. I admit, they were right. It’s actually kind of weird, I’ve only known since recently that I caught some real, big feelings for you back then.”

Here Felix paused to take a sip of water before he went on. “I haven’t forgotten the first time I found out my soulmate link. Blue ink, wrist, all-caps: ‘STUDY’. When I found out that a girl from our school had a similar link, I almost freaked out. But honestly? I only started to flirt with her to um—wow, this is embarrassing—make you jealous. Childish, right? And after a while, ironically, it backfired. ‘Cause I started to like her. Anyway, fast forward, college, right? We all know what happened… then what happened after graduation. I lost you. My soulmate, but most importantly, my best friend. It was the worst because I lost you, and I could have avoided that,” he sighed, “and so here we are. Somehow, life has given us a second chance, and I don’t want to screw this up. So [Y/N], I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I’m sorry that I did so many stupid things in the past, I’m sorry that I was an awful best friend, I’m sorry that I didn’t fight harder to keep you in my life. I’m sorry for hurting you.”

“Felix,” you piped up suddenly, “Look, I’m sorry too. I think it’s a failure on both parts because really, maybe if I wasn’t so selfish, we could have avoided the whole fight. I didn’t know you were willing to wait for me until, you know, then. I’ve blamed myself a lot for that, but I’ve come to realize that you know what? It’s alright to make mistakes, and I forgive myself for doing that. And if I can forgive myself, I can forgive you. When we decided to restart our friendship, honestly, I was more than relieved to hear you were on board for it as well. So, can we agree to put all our mistakes in the past?”

“Yes. I’d love that. Man, thank you so much, [Y/N], for giving me another chance. I, too, forgive you for everything. And I’m so glad that you’re back in my life.”

“Aw, come here,” you grinned, opening your arms for a hug. Felix wrapped his arms around you tightly, and for a while, that’s how you two stayed.

“Wait, I’m actually not done,” Felix announced, pulling away. As he opened his mouth to speak, his hands started to shake a little bit.

“Oh?” You tilted your head to the side, curious as to what the boy would say next.

“I can’t promise you that I won’t make any more mistakes in the future, but for what it’s worth, I’ve learned from the past. And if anything, anything, happens that causes me to stumble and hurt you, I’m willing to put up a fight to make it right. I can’t promise you that the future holds all flowers and sunshine, but if there’s one thing that I am absolutely, terribly sure of, it is that [Y/N]?”

“Mm?”

“I’m in love with you.”

All you could hear was the faint howling of the wind as you were rendered absolutely speechless. It took minutes to process the words Felix had just spoken, and when you managed to grasp the idea of it, all you could sputter out was, “Really?”

Felix nodded. “Yes. Really.”

“I’ve waited since third-year of highschool for you to say that,” you admitted, mustering all your strength not to smile. “So, can I…kiss you?”

“Yes, yes you can,” he answered, leaning in.

So, slowly, surely, you kissed him. You let the gentle caress of his lips speak for themselves as they locked with your own, causing your heart to beat fervently in your chest. It may have been short, chaste even, but one kiss was all it took for you to confirm the vehemence that had been lurking deep down in the crevices of your entire being.

“I’m sorry that this isn’t as grand as you’d hoped. I remember you told me that you wanted big sparks to fly when you met your soulmate,” Felix laughed nervously, taking the opportunity to rest his hand on top of yours.

You shook your head. “No, I’m glad that it’s you, and I’m glad that this is how it turned out.”

Perhaps if it had been another day in another place at another time, you’d say that loving Lee Felix was quite full of irony. But since you were here, at this specific moment on this specific day in this specific place at this specific time, you could truly and sincerely say that there was nothing ironic about it, that there was nothing paradoxical about loving Lee Felix.

There was only bliss. There was only certainty.

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kusunogatari · 5 years

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[ ObiRyū October | Day Twenty: The Routine; Step by Step ] [ @abyssaldespair ] [ Uchiha Obito, Suigin Ryū, Uchiha Sachiko ] [ Verse: The World’s a Stage ] [ Previous || Next ]

Six weeks. Six weeks he had to stay in that hospital, waiting for the singed and melted flesh to heal. The only things that made it bearable were the visits he got. Primarily from his grandmother, but also from Ryū...and eventually, to his honest surprise, Kakashi.

Their reunion had been rather...awkward, at first. And Kakashi admitted that he’d been at least partially prompted by Ryū to show up. But it had been a long time coming, the pair sitting and talking about all that had happened for hours. Rin, the accident, their falling out...and then the fire.

Ryū had waited down in the hospital’s cafe, giving the boys their privacy. Only once texted that it was over did she come back up, smiling wearily as they both gave looks of tired accomplishment.

...but his wounds weren’t his only punishment.

Arson in the first degree. Depending on factors the prosecutor wants to bring forward, he could - in theory - face up to life in prison, and a fifty-thousand dollar fine. Stack that on top of his hospital bills and a lawyer...and things aren't looking good.

His grandmother insists the bills don’t matter - she’s just glad he made it out alive, even if it was his fault to begin with. Ryū sets up a fundraiser, and they manage to bring in a few thousand dollars, but...that’s really just a few drops in the pail.

Court is a terrifying thing. As legal jargon is tossed around and his fate decided by someone else, Obito can do little more than be truthful. Admit to his anger, explain its roots, plead that he’s more than learned his lesson.

The building he burned was condemned, but still legally considered a residence. In the end...he’s given seven years jail time, tried and prosecuted as an adult, being eighteen.

“We’ll visit whenever we can,” they tell him - his grandmother, Kakashi, Ryū. And still they try to find funding for his remaining bills, legal and medical alike.

For the most part, his stint in the joint is...unremarkable. The first year is filled with visits from all three, and even a few other students who feel sympathy. But then Kakashi and Ryū start college, and their arrivals dwindle. Depression on the rise, Obito just...slogs through it, day by day, unsure what he’s going to do when he gets out. Hell...he wasn’t sure what he was going to do before he started that fire. He had no direction, no goal...just anger and sadness and a tight grip on his past...without any thought to his future.

He tries to reflect. Tries to look forward. But there isn’t much for him to glean.

For good behavior, they shave off his last six months. At age twenty-five, Obito is released from prison.

...and he has no idea where to go from here.

By some miracle, his grandmother is still alive, but getting frailer by the day. Mostly he’s just glad he’s out before she’s gone. Their full reunion is a teary one, Obito enveloping her in a hug that almost makes her disappear.

“Oh, my boy...it’s been so cold and lonely without you here…”

“I’m sorry, grandma. I’m here, now.”

He starts looking for a job. But no one wants to hire a convicted felon. Even menial labor jobs think twice, seeing his past penchant for setting fires as a liability they don’t want to touch. Months pass with nothing. His grandmother has been barely squeaking by, managing his bills on top of her own expenses. With him home and only making things all the more expensive, the need for some kind of income drives him to extremes.

Kakashi, already graduated and working, tries to help him find something. He himself got a teaching degree, landing a literature gig at their old high school. By some grace, he convinces them to let Obito come on as a janitor. It’s...not much, but it’s something.

And by now, Obito’s learned to swallow his pride.

Three months of that first job pass before Life decides to throw him a curveball.

Home on a Saturday, Obito’s quietly peeling vegetables for dinner when a cab pulls up out front. Brow furrowing, he watches as someone gets out of the rear seat, packing a single bag. A sweatshirt’s hood is drawn, watching the car pull away before turning to the house and peeling the material back.

...it’s Ryū…!

Abandoning his task, Obito heads out the front door just as she passes the gate. There’s a small pause, and then they meet in the middle. Obito practically swallows her up in a hug, earning a laugh.

“I’m so sorry,” she breathes, doing her best to embrace him back. “I’ve been so busy, and only just heard you were out early…!”

“Kakashi didn’t…?”

“Look, it’s...a long story. Mind if we go inside, first? I have something I need to ask you.”

“Yeah, yeah...here, let me get that.”

“It’s just one bag! I can’t stay long. I, uh...technically snuck off.”

He gives her a questioning look, but she doesn’t elaborate, just heading inside. His grandmother wastes no time in giving her a hug of her own.

“Oh, it’s been so long, dear…!”

“I’m sorry...I’ve been so swamped the last few years. But it’s good to see you, Mrs. Uchiha.”

“Please, Sachiko is fine.”

“Here, I actually have something for you…” Ryū pulls an envelope out of her pocket, insisting, “Don’t open it until I leave, okay? It’s a surprise.”

Obito watches as they interact, noticing the rather glitzy outfit his friend is wearing. It feels like he’s...missing something.

But then she turns to him with a windblown smile. “Sorry, I’m all over the place...I’m a little lagged from the flight.”

“Flight?”

“Yeah, I...well, let me start at the beginning…”

“I’ll go make some tea and some snacks,” Sachiko then offers, toddling toward the kitchen. “You two talk.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Uchiha!” Taking a seat in the living room, Ryū seems to take a long moment to think.

“So, um...I dropped out of college.”

“What?”

“I was trying to major in nursing. And it, uh...wasn’t going well. But I was also taking some music classes, you know...since I loved theater and choir so much. I was posting some of my stuff to the net, covers of songs and stuff...and um...I ended up auditioning for that singing competition show.”

Obito just gapes.

“I got...pretty far. Semi-finals. And when I was voted off, I got picked up by a small label. Things just sort of...spiraled from there. I got a song on the radio, and views online skyrocketed, and now I’m…” She shrugs, looking sheepish with a blush. “I’m...a singer, now! I’ve done a few concerts, some music videos...and things don’t look like they’re going to slow down any time soon.”

“I...that’s amazing…! That must be why I haven’t...heard from you?”

Her face then falls. “...I’m so sorry...I had to move to the coast, and I’ve just been so busy...I kept meaning to write, but my agent didn’t want word getting out I was talking to a felon,” she mutters, looking frustrated. “Which...is why I had to sneak away to come see you. I’m tired of her strongarming me all the time.”

“...I guess I just...dunno what to say. I’ll admit I didn’t see that change coming.”

“I mean…” Ryū tucks some hair behind an ear, musing for a moment. “...part of me always wanted to try it. I’ve loved music and theater for a while. But I thought nursing would be more...practical. And follow my mom’s path. And I do sort of wish I’d stuck with it. I’d love to be helping people. But at the same time, as tough as this career can be...I’m pretty happy with it. And um...that leads me to my question.” She leans forward, arms braced on her knees. “...I heard from Kakashi you were having trouble with a job…?”

“I’ve got one for now, janitor at the school.”

“...do you like it?”

“It’s...a job.”

“...well...I wanted to offer you a new one.”

“Wh…? Me? But...for what?”

“My agent’s been a bit...worried lately. She’s convinced that I’m reaching a point where I should probably have some kind of security. Just in case someone tries to hurt me. Frenzied fans, or a stalker, or just...someone who gets it in their head. Y’know? So...I wanted to ask if you’d consider being my bodyguard.”

Obito stares at her.

“...I know it’s really random, and I don’t expect an answer now. But...well, I figured if I’m going to trust my life to someone, I want it to be someone I know. That I...trust.” Sorrow suddenly colors her features. “...I realize I haven’t been much of a friend. Life swept me away, and we haven’t talked in a few years. But...I do still care about you. And I thought it would be a good opportunity for you. It would pay really well, you’d get all sorts of benefits, and really it would probably be pretty easy most of the time. Just...think about it.” Dragging her eyes back to his face, she manages a small smile. “...it’d be great to be able to see you again.”

Rather overwhelmed, Obito reflexively jokes, “I think you’d get sick of me.”

“Oh, I doubt that. But...I just wanted to throw that out there for you. See what you think. And I don’t expect an answer now. I think I’ll be able to hide out in town a few days before my agent drags me back kicking and screaming,” she adds, grinning.

“...you really want me to...do that? You’d trust me with that?”

Her eyes flicker over his face for a moment. “...I would. More than anyone else. I got a really good look at your character when you were hurt, and...all the time after that. Court, and everything. It’s true, you had some issues...but they were born out of grief. I got a pretty good idea of who you really are. Besides that, you’re obviously strong, and attentive. I think you’d make a perfect bodyguard. But again, it’s only if you want it. No pressure, no expectations.”

Before he can reply, Sachiko returns at last with tea and some crackers. “I’m sorry, dear...I don’t have much in the cupboards.”

Something flashes across Ryū’s face. “No, no - that’s great! I skipped breakfast so I’m starved -”

“Oh! Then let me -!”

“No no, I’ve got it. This is good - my stomach’s a little wobbly after that flight. Tea and crackers is perfect, thank you.”

The old woman doesn’t look convinced, but takes a seat and a cup anyway. “So what’s this I hear about a job…?”

Obito explains it all again for her, and her eyes alight. “Oh, that sounds perfect…! You’re such a strong boy, and you’d be sure to keep her safe!”

That gets Ryū to smile warmly. “He was the first person I thought of for the job.”

“Surely you’ll do it, won’t you Obito?”

“I’ll...give it a little thought, first,” he replies evasively.

“Oh I’m sure he’ll do it. Just give him a minute to mull it over,” Sachiko insists, making Ryū laugh and Obito go pink.

“Well...I better find a hotel to crash in,” Ryū eventually offers, getting to her feet.

“Oh, won’t you stay, dear?”

“I don’t want to interrupt -”

“Nonsense! We’re happy to have you!”

“Well...Obito needs to do some thinking, and you need to open that envelope I gave you,” Ryū gently counters. “I’ll come back by tomorrow, how about that? Take you guys out to lunch or something. And we can talk some more. I sorta just...showed up, that was rude.”

“You’re welcome any time,” Sachiko insists, tottering after her as she moves to the door. “But it would be lovely to see you again tomorrow. Just give us a call!”

“I will.” Giving the elder a hug, Ryū then offers one to Obito, who accepts. “Think that over, huh?”

“Yeah...see you tomorrow.”

As she takes her leave, the remaining pair turn to one another, and then Sachiko brightens. “Oh, the envelope!” Fetching it from her pocket, she unfurls it and opens the flap, reading a small note before pulling out another slip of paper. Eyes widening, her face pales, and she almost collapses if not for Obito’s quick reflexes. “Oh...oh my goodness…”

“Grandma?!” Helping her to a chair, Obito takes the papers from her, first reading the note.

Just paying some good fortune forward.

I know how you can use this, so please

do. And no, I won’t take it back. Whatever’s

leftover after the two main expenses, you

keep to live on. Consider this me making

up for my absence, and all the time I owe

you both. And please...don’t show this to

Obito. I don’t want it swaying his decision.

I don’t want either of you to feel obligated

in any way. This is what I want to do.

Love,

Ryū

Looking to the second slip, Obito sees the set of zeros on the check and freezes. Two main expenses...she must mean the rest of his medical and legal bills…? But this...this is…

Looking close to tears, Sachiko manages a shaking sigh. “...first she helps save your life...and now this? Surely she’s an angel from Heaven...what a kind soul…”

Obito reads the note again, flipping it over but finding nothing on the back. Don’t show it to him, huh? Well...he’d surely find out one way or another. Sway his decision...about taking the job? Which way? Obligation to work for her to repay the debt, or to turn it down and refuse her further kindness? Either way...he’s shellshocked.

“...I’ll take the job,” he murmurs.

“I’d certainly hope so!” Sachiko replies, her own surprise managing to fade a bit as she sits up. “Now you listen to me! You keep that girl safe, Obito. No one can hurt her...such a sweet girl. I’ll...I’ll have to call the bank in the morning. Good gracious…” Mumbling to herself, she snatches back the papers, suddenly full of vigor as she leaves Obito behind.

After a long pause, he gives a single huff of a laugh. “...well, then.”

When Ryū calls the next morning, Sachiko gives her an earful, but the singer refuses to hear any complaints or refusals. Instead, she takes them out to lunch as promised, and Obito tells her his answer.

“And you’re doing this because you want the job, right? No other reason?”

He just nods. He does want the job. But maybe partially for a reason she wouldn’t like.

“...all right then. You can fly back to the coast with me, and we’ll get you all settled in. Mrs. Uchiha...I know you depend on him, and if you’d like, I could have you moved -?”

“Oh, nonsense. I raised my son in that house, lost my husband in that house...and took care of Obito there. There’s only one way I’m leaving it,” she insists. “I’ll be fine.”

“Would you like me to hire a careta-?”

“I can manage that well enough with what you gave me. I’m not a prideful woman...but there’s only so much I’ll allow.”

“Well...we’ll come visit as often as we can. And I’ll get you set up so we can facetime with you!”

“Face what, now?”

“...I’ll explain later.”

Obito packs up a few belongings, giving a rather teary goodbye to his grandmother as Ryū calls her agent. The exchange is clearly argumentative, but in the end it all seems settled.

“Not in trouble, are you?” he asks, perking a brow.

“I didn’t break anything in my contract,” Ryū replies with a wink. “So no. She’s mad I snuck out, but I didn’t have any other pressing obligations. And technically I did what she wanted: I hired a bodyguard!”

Obito just snorts.

One flight later, he finds himself in the big city, the next several days a blur of Ryū finding him an apartment, introducing him to the rest of her team, and getting all of the paperwork taken care of.

“So you don’t have to be with me all the time,” she eventually explains. “There will be plenty of times I’ll be in safe environments where others can keep an eye on me. Biggest things will be public venues, you know?”

“Okay…”

Ryū gives a sympathetic smile. “Don’t worry, it’ll all sink in. I know what it is to be overwhelmed...I felt the same way when things started picking up for me.” Her expression then warms. “...I’m just...very glad you’re here. I feel safer already. Now...I have to go to practice for some choreography for an upcoming show...want to go with me?”

“Uh...sure.”

They head to a dance studio, where Ryū meets with her trainer, choreographer, and backup dancers. For several hours they run through the routine, step by step. Obito, with little else to do, lingers and watches. He has to admit...it’s impressive. And Ryū looks focused and driven, mouthing along with her track as they go.

By early evening they break for the day, everyone heading home save for Ryū, who hangs back to work on a section she’s struggling with. Sweat lines her brow, breath rushing as she rests between attempts.

“Ready to call it a night?”

“No...not yet…” Taking a swig of water, she sighs. “...few more tries.”

“I dunno how you keep that all straight.”

Glancing over, Ryū grins. “Practice. Lots and lots and lots of practice.” Setting her water aside, she asks, “...want to try?”

“What, me?”

“Yeah! Just a few steps, huh?” She gives him a grin, holding out hands.

“I’m a bodyguard, not a backup dancer,” he replies, nonetheless stepping up.

“Well maybe I’ll promote you if you dance well,” she teases. “Here...stand like this. The sequence is...one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.” With each number, she executes a move, doing so slowly at first.

“...uh…”

“We’ll go slow.” Holding a pose, she waits for him to mimic before moving to the next. Over and over, going a bit faster every time. “There, you’re getting it!”

“I’m a little stiff,” he laughs. “Scars and all that.”

“No, you’re doing really well! You’ve got good rhythm! Here, we’ll try with the music…” Playing the mp3, she helps him count out before they go through the little section. As Obito stops, she keeps on for a few more, including the part she’d been struggling with. “...okay, I think I got it! Finally, oh my gosh…”

As she stops and catches her breath, music still going, Obito listens. It’s pretty much your typical pop song, but...he likes it. If only because it’s her song. “...this is actually pretty good.”

“Heh, thanks...I’d like to do more ballad-style pieces. Fast, poppy stuff is okay. And it sells well. But I’d like to have something a bit more...theater-like.”

Obito shrugs. “Neither are really my genre…”

She laughs, insisting, “No, that’s fine! I’ll get you some earplugs, because otherwise you’re going to hear it a lot.”

“I don’t mind it if it’s yours.”

Ryū pauses at that. “...not biased, are you?”

“N...no.”

Her lips curl a bit in a grin, shutting it off. “...well...I’m gonna shower, and then indulge in some takeout. Wanna come with, or head home?”

“I’ll stay.”

They slip into a fast food joint, getting it to go and heading back to Obito’s place. It’s a hell of a lot nicer than he’d ever afford working that janitor job. Yet another thing he needs to thank her for…

They sit on the balcony, legs dangling through the railing as they munch fries. “...you know...this is the first time since I graduated high school I’ve really just...hung out with a friend.”

Obito glances to her. “...really?”

“Yeah. I was a loner in college, and then...well, good luck finding real friends in his business,” she sighs, indulging in another fry. “...that’s a big reason why I wanted you to take the job. I’ve been...really lonely. Maybe that was selfish of me.”

“You’ve been anything but selfish.”

“...maybe.”

“Hey. You literally saved my life. Twice, really. You flipped it upside down. I’d be scrubbing high school bathrooms right now if not for you.”

“I don’t want you to feel that way, though,” Ryū insists, turning to him with a wilted brow. “I didn’t do this out of...of pity, or wanting you to feel like you owe me. You’re my friend. And I’ve been really lucky. I just...want to share that luck with someone. Help them. And you were the one I wanted to help the most. And not just because of all the troubles you’ve faced. But because you’re a really sweet guy, Obito. I -” She cuts off, apparently catching herself before blurting something. “...I’m glad you’re here. I wasn’t kidding - I feel safer with you around. For...a lot of reasons.”

“...yeah?”

“...yeah.” Looking into her empty fry cup, she then just...collapses against his side with a sigh. “...I know I’ve been a bad friend up until now. But I hope I can make it up to you.”

“...you already did. And then some.” Tentatively, he lets an arm encircle her shoulders. “...thanks for letting me be here.”

“...thanks for letting me drag you into this.”

“Any time.” Glancing down to her, Obito feels his stomach shift as she nestles a bit more comfortably against him, a weird warmth in his...chest…

...oh no.

Swallowing thickly, he then looks back up, watching the sky slowly darken, the city still bright with lights.

“You’re a really sweet guy, Obito. I feel safer with you around.”

He can’t help a small sigh. Oh, Obito...what are you getting yourself into…?

(This is a follow-up to day four!) I'm not...100% sure it was a good idea to have this verse continued from day four - it mighta worked better as a standalone with them as strangers, but...meh, oh well - maybe I'll do this sort of concept again sometime lol I am.......a really big sucker for protector / protected dynamics in ships, okay. I've wanted to try it for a long while now. And the title just gave me the idea of a dance routine, WHICH fits the whole pop star AU pretty well! And I think Obito would make a really good bodyguard, honestly. He's both strong, AND - depending on the verse - also knows how 'bad guys' think...hence me tying it into day four, like he had some experience in jail to sort of know what to look for to help keep Ryū safe. Anyway, III'm rambling lol - hope ya enjoyed! Thanks for reading!~

#obiryū october #abyssaldespair #uchiha obito #suigin ryū #uchiha sachiko #the world's a stage [ au ]

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