#yeah I’m still on my sunset tree bullshit | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

some-kindofgnome · 4 years

Text

tastes so bitter (tastes so sweet)

You’re driving back from an out-of-town mission with Hawks when your car breaks down on a very sparsely-populated highway. While you await relief, things get... personal.

characters: takami keigo (hawks) x f!reader

word count: 7.1k

warnings: smut (18+ please!), car sex, pro hero!reader, angst, emotionally unavailable hawks

notes: ta-dah!!! the car sex fic! this turned out way longer and way more feelsy than I ever intended it to be. but I’m grateful for the chance to show you how I play with plot and emotion as well as some good porn. porn with feelings, y’know?

EDIT: The supremely talented @la-saffron has created an absolutely spectacular piece of artwork for this fic! Please go and look at it right here, it’s really quite splendid

Masterlist

The shadowy trees on either side of the highway cast a chill across the pavement as the sky went dark.

It was far from sunset, but the woods were so tall and thick that the light had disappeared from the road a long time ago. The overpriced navigation system laid into the dashboard of Hawks’ luxurious car was no help at all; not when you were taking the only road for miles around.

The highway narrowly passed for two lanes, winding precariously down from the mountains. Dotted with reflective yellow signs- deer crossing, bear crossing, creatures-of-unimaginable-horror crossing. Bigfoot himself could have wandered into your headlights and you barely would’ve flinched.

But that was to be expected, given where you’d come from.

That day’s mission brought you both far, far away from the city. There was a national forest about three hours away- one of the biggest in the country- and you and Hawks had been called in at the crack of fucking dawn to drive all the way out to the woods and investigate some ‘strange reports,’ as the rangers cared to call them.

Most park rangers knew what they were seeing when guests came in from the woods reporting abnormal happenings. Nobody was truly immune to fear, though, when faced with the impossible.

Whether there were paranormal creatures lurking in those woods or not, you couldn’t have been sure. But after spending the day exhausting both your quirks combing every spare inch of those woods, you were relieved of your overnight duties by a group of other, more nature-savvy heroes.

Hawks had been miffed, but too exhausted to argue. He didn’t like to think he’d been overshadowed. You were just thankful to be going home to your own bed.

“Okay,” you sighed, nursing the last of a lukewarm soda from a burger joint at the edge of the only one-horse town you’d passed through. It was a pretty unassuming stop for dinner, but you and Hawks both agreed that the burgers were way too good to be sold to so few patrons.

Keigo was driving, with one palm splayed lazily across the bottom edge of the wheel. His scarlet wings stretched into the backseat, draping over the shoulders of his black leather backrest like some bizarre kind of seat cover.

The fact that his car was so luxurious was not lost on you- although you were more surprised to find out that he had one at all. Hawks seemed like the last person in the world to need a car, after living in a fantastic downtown penthouse. And owning a pair of wings, come to think of it.

He owned it because he could. And because he knew how good he looked in the driver’s seat.

“What?” He turned a curious eye toward you, though he never quite pulled his gaze from the road.

“I know we started this conversation on the way here,” you began, “but… we never exactly finished it.” You swirled what was left of the ice chips in the bottom of your cup, considering the best way to voice your thoughts.

“Alright.” He sounded vaguely amused, slouching a little further down and drawing an idle palm over his feathered hair. “Shoot.”

“Well…” You trailed off. “You’re kind of… a city guy.” You were already starting to talk with your hands. The racket coming from your half-drunk soda was proof enough.

“What makes you say that?”

“You are,” you defended. You let a playful edge creep into your tone. “And the agency’s kind of a city thing.”

“Am I really as one-note as you’re making me out to be?” He was chuckling. Your cheeks were going hot. You weren’t sure how this became a personal conversation, but you were determined to steer it in the proper direction. You course corrected.

“I just mean, we don’t take a lot of jobs outside the city. Like… ever. So, what’s with this one? Why this call?”

He didn’t answer right away. When you glanced across the car, he was licking his lips and appearing to be, very genuinely, thinking.

“Well,” he began. There was an immensely appealing depth that wore around the edges of his voice when he was deep in thought. You hung on tightly, trying your best to hide how intently you listened.

“I was just… bored, I guess.” He gave a lazy little shrug. His eyes were still trained on the windshield, but you could feel the weight of his urges. He wanted to look over. You turned your head, willing him to.

“Probably sounded like bullshit, now that I think about it,” he confessed, “but if there really was somethin’ freaky in those woods… I dunno. I wanted to see it.”

You resisted the urge to snort.

“Maybe you should start a ghost hunting branch at the agency.”

“Aw, c’mon,” he protested. This time, he really did drag his eyes away from the road for a second. They glinted playfully in the dark. You got a flash of pearly canine from the barest hint of a grin, but it was enough to put a stupid smile right across your face.

A sickening thud from beneath the hood zapped any false confidence you’d been building. There was a dull pop, then the engine died.

“What the- shit.” Hawks scrambled to put both hands on the wheel, navigating the car with what momentum remained over to the narrow shoulder. The tires hit gravel and soft mud, rolling pathetically to a stop and settling in damp silence.

“What the hell was that?” You leaned over the dashboard as your pulse came down from near-terminal velocity. There were half a dozen lights blinking away on the dashboard- symbols you couldn’t understand.

“Not sure.” Keigo was doing his best not to sound too perturbed. As a result, he was just perturbed enough.

You knew what those lights implied, though. Service due. Oil change due. Battery maintenance due.

“Jesus Christ,” you hissed, “when was the last time you took this car in for service? It’s a miracle you even made it out of the goddamn garage.”

Hawks was in the process of mashing the engine start button like an arcade game. When you spoke up, he pushed it down and held. The engine gave a dull, sad sort of sputter, but nothing roared to life.

“Look, look,” he dismissed, waving a hand in your direction as he unbuckled his seatbelt. “I don’t drive this thing that often, okay? I’m gonna go check under the hood.”

He climbed out of the driver’s side and slammed the door before giving you the chance to remind him to pop the hood. For a minute, you let him wallow in his mistake, watching gleefully as he pried at the seam of it. Finally, you unbuckled yourself and leaned over, flicking the release for him.

He gave an unamused glance toward the windshield and lifted the hood, obscuring all but the very tips of his drooping wings from view.

After about fifteen seconds, he ducked back into the car with a rush of cold air behind him. He rubbed his palms together as you watched, arms folded over your chest.

“So?” You prompted. He gave a sideways glance in your direction, blowing into his chilled hands.

“So what?”

“Oh my g- what’s wrong with the car?” You tried your best not to let panic set in.

“I don’t know. It’s just a bunch of pipes and wires under there. They didn’t exactly give me a map of the thing when I bought it.”

You’d seen Hawks pull people out of burning buildings before. You’d see him think on his feet, devise a plan and act on it in the blink of an eye. Usually, he was impulsive. Confident. Clever.

Tonight, on the other hand, he was demonstrating a very clear affinity for money over brains.

You flopped into your seat, scrubbing your hands over your face. You were not going to freak out. You refused to. It didn’t matter that Keigo had suddenly become useless in the face of disaster. You were heroes, even if you had to save your damned selves.

“Oh,” he quipped from beside you. “Still got bars. See?” As you peeked over at him through one cracked eyeball, he waved his illuminated phone screen at you. “It could be worse, kid. If this were a horror movie, this thing’d be dead.”

He tapped away on the screen, seeming very pleased with himself. Even his wings gave a little ruffle, draping themselves smoothly over the back of his seat again.

“I’ll call us a tow. We’ll be outta here in no time.”

A few minutes later, you had a map pulled up on your phone while Hawks’ brow creased deeper and deeper.

“Uh-huh.” His voice had taken on that irresistible deepness to it again, but this time it was sending pangs of dread through your gut.

“Right.” He brought a palm up to smooth over his jaw, fingertips bending and pressing idly against the patches of scruff that dusted it. “Y-yep, yeah, I understand. Fifty miles is a long way. I know it’s gonna be a lot to send a truck that far. But-“

As he was abruptly cut off by the other end of the line, those idle fingers slipped up to his temple, pressing inward and rubbing in stiff little circles.

“Okay. Alright. Yeah, I guess we’ll wait, ‘cause there’s not much else we can… I understand. Yes, thank you. Thank you. Okay, we’ll be here. Or within a ten-foot radius. Thanks. B-“

He blinked rapidly at the screen as he pulled it away from his ear. “Have an excellent night, sir,” he muttered under his breath. He let out a deep sigh, lifting a hip to tuck his phone away again.

“They said they would send someone,” he said, “but the depot is, like, fifty miles from here. Could be a couple of hours.”

“A couple hours?” That cold dread was settling into your chest again. So much for sleeping in your own bed.

“Yeah. C’mon, get out.”

“What?” You glanced past him at the frosted driver’s side window. “It looks freezing out there.”

“Well then, you’d better bundle up. C’mon. I’m gonna fly us back to the city.”

“No way. Hawks- Keigo.” You grabbed his arm and squeezed tightly as he made to get out of the car.

“What?” Exasperation was creeping into the edges of his voice. The sides of his gaze, too, as he landed against the seat back with a thud and turned his cheek to look at you.

“You’ve been flying all day. Your wings are shot. You’re not flying anywhere.”

“What? They’re fine.” He gave the appendages in question a defiant flutter and a cloud of expiring feathers floated into the backseat.

You folded your arms across your chest. Hawks gave a frustrated growl.

“What do you suggest, then?” He retorted in fierce opposition to your silence. “Just sit around and fucking… die of old age before the tow truck comes?”

“Oh my god, you’re the number two hero,” you snapped back. “When did you become such a drama queen? Yes, we’re going to wait. Like a normal person would have to.”

“I’m not being dramatic; I’m presenting you with a legitimate solution and you’re ignoring it!”

“If you try to fly us both out of here, you’re gonna hit the ground before we’re halfway home. And then we’ll be really stranded, with no water and no shelter. So, if you’d like to fly back all by yourself, I can’t stop you. But I’m not going to let you kill both of us.”

“Fine!” Hawks’ cheeks were flushed with temper as he kicked the door open and clambered out of the car. He kicked it shut again so hard the whole body rocked, and for a moment you were left, trapped in shocked silence.

He was really going to leave you out here. Alone.

Half a dozen heartbeats passed before his boots crunched on the shoulder and he wrenched the door open again, flopping back into the car with an immense sigh of irritated defeat.

“Fuckin’ freezing out there,” he muttered as quietly as possible.

You wanted to punch him.

“You ready to wait?”

His wings stiffened behind him, then drooped so lowly they seemed to disappear into the backseat. He looked at you from the corner of one tawny eye.

“Yeah.”

For the first hour, you honestly enjoyed yourself. As soon as Keigo accepted his fate, he got much closer to his usual mellow self. You finished off cold fries from dinner, listened to true crime podcasts on your phone, (you listened- he talked over the whole thing) and played a few ruthless games of hangman on a couple of napkins you found in the glove compartment.

You’d spent a lot of time with Hawks in a professional capacity. As partners, you took most of your missions together. You were well-versed in the way that he liked to think, the way he approached a job, a conversation. You worked well with each other and you were drawn to his quick wit and laid-back humour. Even if he was a piece of work at times, you made a strong team. But you didn’t do a whole lot of hanging out.

“Okay, that’s it,” he chided as you added an extravagant top hat to the completed, dressed hangman scrawled onto the inside fold of your last napkin. The word he’d failed to guess was ‘patience,’ and the irony of his struggling was not lost on you.

“Aw, c’mon,” you protested. “You’ve still got gloves and a bow tie left.”

“No, no, no.” He held up a palm, shaking his head. There was a good-natured grin curling his lip as he bowed toward the door. “I’m callin’ it. I gotta take a leak.”

You snatched your soda cup from the drink holder, clutching it protectively against your chest.

“You’re not going in here.”

Next, it was Hawks’ turn to shoot you a deadpan stare.

“How about in the woods? Is that allowed?”

Your cheeks went hot. “It’s pretty dark out there.”

“Aw.” Hawks shoved the door open. There was an unfamiliar glint to his eye as he tossed a mischievous look over his shoulder. “Guess you won’t be able to sneak a peek, then.”

You slammed your fist into his back. “Shut up and go take a piss.”

As the car door clicked shut, you turned the other way out of sheer habit. All you could see in the opposite window was the reflection of your own face. Maybe it was just the dim light, but you looked exhausted. Keigo had seen you caked in blood, streaked by mud and soot before. But you’d both been awake since four o’clock that morning and there was a special kind of ugly feeling that came with overtiredness.

You were dreaming about the first thing you’d do when you got home again when Hawks climbed back into the car. He looked considerably brighter as he ducked inside, and he brought a flush of rich, earthy forest-smell along with him.

“Don’t tell me you couldn’t find it in the cold out there,” you quipped. Payback.

But Keigo just chuckled, shaking his head.

“Close the door,” you whined as the frigid air from outside finally reached your bare arms. “It’s already cold enough in here.”

“Aw,” he crooned, tugging the door shut behind him. “You scared of a little cold now, kid? It’s not so bad out there. Feel.”

He lunged at you, ducking rapidly to rub his frigid cheek against your shoulder. You let out a terse yelp and squirmed, trying to shove him back amid a sea of chilled giggles. He got a few passes of his icy skin on yours before you both realized how close you’d gotten.

Hawks cleared his throat and scooted away from you. In the bare light from the shitty overhead lamp, you were starting to see the outline of a flush creeping into his cheeks.

The light abruptly went out, leaving you in darkness again.

“Tell me something,” he mused, grabbing for the abandoned takeout bag and digging a hand into it. He produced a tiny wrapped square and tore it open with his teeth, removing the folded alcohol wipe from inside and gliding it with impossible grace over his fingertips. He eyed you sideways.

“How come we don’t hang out more?”

Your chest went cold. You’d been dreading that question all night. Longer than that, even.

“What d’you mean?” It was a gut response, but you instantly kicked yourself for even attempting to play dumb.

“You know,” he chided, dumping the wipe back into the paper bag once he was finished with it. “We work. We do interviews together. We do those bullshit PR functions together. I’ve known you- what, two years? And we’ve never even been for a drink. What gives, kid? Don’t tell me I grate on you.”

“I get plenty of you on company time,” you retorted. You were starting to panic. You weren’t ready for this conversation, but it didn’t seem like you were going to be rescued by the timely arrival of the tow truck.

“Okay, okay, I’d take that,” he laughed, “if you hadn’t agreed to take this mission with me. C’mon, this wasn’t exactly a nine-to-five gig.”

He paused. “Come out with me this weekend.” He nudged your shoulder with a bony elbow. You tried your best not to snap.

“Stop,” you pressed quietly. “You know why we don’t.”

The smirk slipped from Keigo’s face.

“What? Why?”

“Don’t make me say it.”

“Wait a second, there’s an actual reason? What the hell is it?”

The confusion was genuine on his face. Hawks could be a smarmy little shit when he wanted to be. But you could tell he wasn’t fucking with you.

“Oh my god.” The words slipped out like a deep breath. Your hand drifted to your mouth as cold shock ran over your skin. “You really don’t remember.”

“No.” His confusion was bordered with fear. He sat back a little, letting his eyes drift over your expression. “No, I really don’t.”

You swallowed hard. You should have known that you’d have to talk about this eventually. But he didn’t even remember the night that had been changing the way you acted around him for nearly a year.

“Last Christmas,” you began. Your breath was so short that it put a desperate hush to your voice that you absolutely hated. You revelled in your ability to act casual around him, but the more probing he got, the harder that composure was slipping.

“At the agency gala. You remember the party, right?”

Hawks rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, and I got trashed.” He paused. Realization dawned on his face, and he shot you the deepest, most sincere look of concern you’d ever seen. Even more sincere than the look that crossed his face when you got shot off the roof of a house and broke a rib.

He leaned forward.

“Did I do something?” He swept a palm over his mouth, fingertips dallying at his chin. You knew exactly how he felt in that moment. You’d been there before, too, realizing that you’d lost control. Blacked out. Understanding that you might have done something you were going to regret.

“You really don’t remember a thing?” It was your turn to be horrified. How could something that consumed your every thought stay so damned far from his?

His fingers were still curved around the point of his chin. He’d gone white, and he shook his head as his eyes cast down to his lap.

“You fucking kissed me, okay?” You snarled with a whip of frustration. “There was mistletoe and you kissed me under it and-and Christ, I can’t believe you.”

“What? What?” He demanded as his voice grew defensively sharp.

“I had no idea what you were gonna do. What you were gonna say, what was gonna change between us. I showed up to the agency the next morning and your hungover ass acted like nothing had ever happened.”

“Of course I did,” he defended, “I didn’t think anything did happen. Oh my God, did I really kiss you?” His wings were coming to life all of a sudden, bristling on either side of his seat. There was a dull whisp as one edge of them brushed against the window. They seemed to expand, along with his horror, to fill the entire car.

He pushed further. “Well, did you… did you want me to?”

You could see where his thoughts were taking him. The answer was an impossible dilemma. To lead him further down that path would not only be cruel, it would be untrue. But to tell him the truth- that you had wanted it- would be to shatter the fragile illusion of casual, platonic intimacy that you’d been building over the last two years.

You chewed your lower lip. Hard enough to hurt.

“Oh god, you didn’t,” he gasped. That was enough for you to lift your chin and shoot him a sudden, sad, pathetic little look.

“Jesus,” he gasped again, deeper this time. “You did.”

“Look,” you snapped. “I was never gonna say anything to you. I was never gonna push it. You didn’t feel that way and I knew that and I just wanted to work.”

He told you enough about his personal life as it was. Every date he swung in from on Monday morning, every Friday night he spent preening in the last hours of the workday hurt enough already. If you’d grown close, fallen harder, it would’ve become too much to bear.

“What do you mean, I didn’t feel that way? What way don’t I feel? How could you even know that?” He was beginning to raise his voice back at you and the adrenaline was pushing you way too far to listen.

“Because you never said a fucking word to me about that kiss! You pretended like it never even happened, Kei! What was I supposed to think!”

“If you’d asked me, you woulda known that I didn’t speak up ‘cause I didn’t remember a goddamn thing!” Keigo jammed a finger into his temple. His golden eyes flashed. He was so fucking hot when he was angry, but this was not a fight you ever wanted to have.

Luckily for you, he was having it without you.

“What do you want me to say to that?” He snarled. “Huh? What- you want me to tell you that I’m sorry for not having psychic powers? That I’m sorry I didn’t hire a mind-reader to tell me what the fuck was going on with you?”

He scrubbed his hands over his face. You were on the verge of tears.

“I-I never-“ you began, but Keigo beat you to the punch,

“You know, maybe I noticed that you were actin’ funny around me. And maybe I should’ve asked. But maybe if you ask yourself, and if you really, honestly give yourself the truest answer, you’d be able to admit that you knew how I felt about you. That you always knew.”

“Of course I knew!”

Your response echoed raw and deafening in the silence of the car. You’d lost your temper and shouted it at him with every decibel left in your breathless chest. Your fists were clenched atop your frigid thighs as you bent over in your seat, shivering. To your immense embarrassment, warm tears trickled down the sides of your nose.

He was right, after all. Every sideways smile he’d given you was just a little too broad to be friendly. Every time he caught you by the hand, he held it just a little too long. Every time he offered you the crook of his elbow at a stuffy charity gala and every time he poured you into a cab at the end of the night, he promised to take good care of you. Every time he looked at you at all it was with a depth that you had recognized, but never understood.

“But look at us, Kei. Look at what we do to each other.”

You sniffled, scrubbing tears off your cheeks with the heels of your hands. He reached for you, seeking to comfort, but his hands twitched midair and he drew back instead.

“Yeah,” he croaked. You tossed a glance in his direction. He looked more dejected than you’d seen him in a long time. He rested both hands on top of the wheel, the rest of his body sagging against the seat back.

“Except now I’ve told you,” you continued. “And now we both know, so everything’s fucked no matter what.”

You were met with silence. The truth was dawning on you. You hated to even consider it, but it felt like what needed to be done.

“When we get back to the city,” you started. Hawks interrupted you with a low rasp of your name.

“No, when we get back, I’m giving you my resignation.”

“Fuck, stop.”

Keigo lunged, grabbing you by the back of the neck and pulling you toward him. He rested his forehead against yours and closed his eyes. The warmth of his closeness weighed on you like a heavy quilt. You couldn’t even pretend not to be immensely comforted by affection from him.

“I’m not gonna let you do that, kid.”

You were both drawing deep breaths- slow, rolling gulps of air that matched over gradual time. You licked your lips, bracing your chilled palms on his shoulders. Your fingertips brushed the very edges of his feathered hair, dull and soft in the dark.

You’d talked each other down from bigger, badder edges before. But this one had sharp, jagged rocks waiting at the bottom. This one, you were going to have to jump from together.

“I can’t do this,” you pleaded. “I can’t keep myself away from you like this.”

“Don’t.” His voice was hushed and so achingly tender, like he couldn’t take the command himself.

“I can’t-“

“Then, don’t.”

He was firmer this time, and the pad of his thumb brushed the bottom of your lip. He pulled back just a hair, grazing the tip of his nose across yours. The heat of his breath puffed over your lips and his blonde eyelashes threatened to tickle your cheek.

He drew in a slow, calculated breath.

“Lemme kiss you. Lemme try again. I’m not gonna forget it this time, I swear.”

“Keigo, please.”

“Just lemme try. Just once. I’ll never ask you again, if you don’t want me to.” He pulled back the rest of the way and your body keened at the loss, but he looked deeply into your eyes. Deeply like he’d never been allowed to look before.

You licked your lips. Considered it for half a heartbeat. Then you gave a slow little nod.

“Okay.”

To your surprise, he didn’t lunge again. He took his time with you. He cupped your cheeks tenderly between his bare palms, memorizing the curve of your face. He stared, taking you in like this. At his mercy.

Finally, he leaned in and captured your mouth in a soft kiss, heartbreakingly loving. You responded eagerly, blossoming beneath his touch and bracing your hands on the broad plane of his chest. Your fingers curled in the fleece that lined his coat.

You kissed back with near-desperate urgency, shamelessly showing him how touch-starved you’d become. Dating was pointless when Keigo stole your whole heart every time you showed up to work.

The quiet press of his tongue had your jaw going slack in his hands. Your kiss went needy all at once, and he licked into your mouth with a hunger behind his movements that you never anticipated sensing from him.

You broke from him first, turning your cheek to him as your lungs burned. Your mouth was swollen, and you gasped greedily for whatever stale air lingered between you. He grabbed your chin and forced your eyes back to his.

His gaze was fearsome. Ravenous. You were powerless beneath it.

You combed your fingers through his hair like you’d always wanted to, settling your palm at the nape of his neck. Your own voice was nearly unrecognizable, nothing more than a feral growl.

“Get in the back.”

Hawks took one look at the narrow gap between his seat and yours and sat up, nudging the driver’s side door open. He climbed eagerly into the road and then back into the back seat, settling in the center with his legs and wings splayed wide.

Meanwhile, you took the opportunity to wiggle out of your boots and pants and slam dunk everything into the foothold of the passenger’s seat. You climbed over the center console in your underwear and settled into his lap.

Even though you had to bow your head against the cushioned ceiling, it was a holy sensation. Your thighs settled perfectly into the crooks of Keigo’s legs, and his hands slid so naturally over the curves of your hips. It was as if you’d done this before.

You kissed him again, using the weight of your newly boosted height to descend hard and loving against his lips. He grabbed you hard by the ass, drawing you smooth and tight against his hips.

“God,” he groaned eagerly into your mouth.

“You’re so. Fucking. Perfect,” you hissed back into his, and he squeezed you harder, breaking his lips from yours to trail a hungry path of kisses along the edge of your jaw. His scruff scratched at your chin just like you imagined it would. You loved him like this- trimmed, unshaven. The rougher, the better.

“Don’t say that,” he purred dangerously close to your ear. “You’ve seen me at my worst.”

You tried not to grin, remembering Keigo barfing over the balcony of the Plaza after one too many charity-benefit martinis. Keigo caked in ooze after cutting open that sludge villain from the inside. Keigo on the verge of tears, just a few minutes ago.

“I still think so,” you pressed, and he smiled against your cheek. His wings, tired and bruised but majestic as ever, stiffened proudly. They were capped firmly by the cramped space that surrounded you, but the feathers that spread across the back seat were sleek and graceful.

You dug your fingertips between his jacket and his t-shirt, feeling the warmth of his torso all over. He did his best to shrug it open, but the material was caught up on his wings- no getting it off now.

He wound his hands into the hem of his shirt and tugged it up for you. The skin you could feel by slipping your fingers underneath was all you were going to get.

Not that it mattered to you. It was far more than you’d let yourself so much as picture before. While you felt your way across his heated abdomen, he dipped his head to your pulse point. He scraped the points of his teeth across your tender flesh, making you sigh and shiver. He pressed a hand to the small of your back to keep you close and nibbled all the way down to your neckline, leaving a trail of tiny welts in his wake.

They would fade by morning. Tonight, the feeling was enough.

He glided smooth, tender fingers up your sides. You straightened, letting him wedge your long-sleeved t-shirt up around your shoulders. You had to bend even further and press your forehead awkwardly against his shoulder to wrench it off. Once he peeled the fabric over your head, you tossed it haphazardly toward the front seat. Keigo was already going to work on his fly.

The tender press of his erection had grown apparent by that point, stiff and needing down one thigh of his thick pants. You reached between your legs and palmed it indulgently. There was an answering throb of arousal in the pit of your belly as you felt the shape and thickness of it trapped against his body, and an even stronger one when his hips pressed into your touch and he gave a low rumble of approval.

“Don’t act so surprised,” he crooned. With his pants unfastened, and the bulk of his cock shifted to the stretchy pouch of his undershorts, he slid a fingertip down the plane of your belly and curled two graceful digits between your thighs.

“Are you wet for me yet?” He shot you a deep, lustful stare. You rocked your hips against his fingers, hopeless in resisting the pleasure he offered. Keigo nudged the crotch of your thong easily aside, dipping his middle finger against your slit.

He sucked a sharp breath through clenched teeth as you gave a simultaneous yelp of stimulation. When he looked up at you again, he bore a sly little grin. You’d seen it a thousand times before, but never with such desire. And never all for you.

“You’re drippin’, kid.” He arched his palm, slipping that finger slowly upward and easing it inside you. There was no stretch, but the sensation of intimacy- of being felt in such a way by those hands that you’d never dared to fantasize about- was intoxicating in its own right.

Keigo was, apparently, feeling it, too. His eyes were deeply lidded, glazed completely by his own desire. The tip of his cock had found its way over the waistband of his undershorts, weeping shiny precum against his stomach and the bottom of his shirt.

He curled a blunt fingertip inside you, massaging your tender front wall. The feeling rappelled up the column of your spine and brought deep trembles forward. It brought fresh handfuls of wet slick from your depths, gliding down his palm and between his fingers. He took the hints your body offered and rubbed faster, watching the way your expression morphed from desire to pleasure.

“Stop,” you hushed, leaning forward and pushing your lips to his. He drew his hand back from you immediately, settling it on your thigh. The wet little print it left against your skin wasn’t lost on you.

“Something wrong?”

“No,” you replied. “Just ready for you.”

He gave a low, loving little chuckle and shifted beneath you. “Can’t hold out any longer?”

You smiled into his hair. “Don’t want to.”

“Fair enough.” His smile was even, but the tug in his voice betrayed his fraying nerves. It thrilled you to know that you weren’t the only one putting way too much emotional stock in this. It was immensely validating to discover that he’d been anticipating it, too.

He wiggled and squirmed against the backseat, shucking his pants and underwear down over his thighs and letting his cock pop out. It bobbed against his stomach- thicker than you’d imagined- framed by a trimmed scruff of tawny hair that disappeared under his shirt.

“Fuck,” you sighed in spite of yourself.

“I know, right?” He rasped. He reached for you, cupping your jaw. He brought your forehead down to his, giving a weak laugh. “What the hell have we been waitin’ for?”

“We just needed the bottle episode to shove us together,” you giggled. “C’mon, we’re a walking trope right about now.”

“We’re about to become a different trope if you don’t let me fuck you.” It was his turn to play the desperate card. But the ache between your thighs had not dulled, even a little.

He wrapped his fingers around the base of his shaft and you lifted your hips. He gave the heated tip a playful little swipe along your slick slit, but his game backfired when both of you let out tight cries of sensation.

You rocked your hips forward, taking his tip eagerly inside. The sensation was toe-curling, made even better by the way he held you tightly against him, nosing at your ear and kissing any patch of skin he could reach.

He brought his free palm to your ass as soon as you were situated, helping you slide the rest of the way onto his cock. With your knees braced on either side of his lap and your feet pressed tightly against the front seat, you let him bottom out. And for a moment, you just sat there.

“Jesus,” Keigo sighed, lolling his head against the seat behind him. You still had your head deeply bowed, trapped in the space that seemed just an inch too tight.

“I…” Your thighs shuffled. Your hips gave a little squirm. It felt good, but it wasn’t enough. Keigo cracked an eye and lifted his chin, sensing a problem.

“What’s the matter?”

“I just…” Your cheeks went hot. You licked your lips. “I can’t move.”

His gaze cast downward, to the place where you were joined. He took in the press of your thighs, the curve of your neck. He snorted.

“No, you can’t. C’mere, kid, I gotcha.” He planted that palm on your ass again, drawing your hips forward and up, as far as you could take them. Your head and neck bowed with the rest of your back as he draped your upper body over his chest and held you tightly against him.

Then he planted his feet and gave one good, deep thrust. Your innards gave a jerk. Oh, fuck.

“That’s it,” you panted into his ear. He nodded tensely.

“Yeah?” He prompted. “That’s workin’ for ya? Alright, alright. We’ve got this, kid, c’mon. Lemme show you somethin’ good, okay?”

One thrust sent you spiralling. But the rhythm that he dove into- steady, tough, fluid- sent every nerve through your body into meltdown. You were entirely incapable of dealing with such pleasure, combined with the emotions that swirled through your lovestruck brain.

It felt as though you had been holding out needlessly for all this time. Like all the hurt and frustration and heartbreak you shed over him would be evaporated, now that you understood that he wanted you like this, too.

Like that was all there was. You, Hawks, and the free love you could now share.

“I’m n-not-“ Keigo stuttered, piping up after a series of breathless pants and airy groans, “n-not gonna last much longer, kid, you’re… really gonna make me feel it.”

“Yeah,” you breathed back. You looped your arms tightly around his neck, tilting your hips forward. You could feel the barest hint of stimulation when your clit brushed his belly, so you leaned into it- aching for your own release.

His rhythm doubled as the intensity of your pleasure spiked dangerously high, and when you gripped him hard and rocked your hips in time with his, there was a low, warning pull that echoed all the way up to your throat. You were close. Very close.

Your head dropped backward and Keigo leaned forward, drawing his mouth up the vulnerable column of your throat. He panted hard and heavy against your pulse point.

“That’s it, kid, that’s fuckin’ it, baby, oh, God, I’m g-gonna f-fucking… I- shit, I- can’t… fffuck!”

Keigo let a vicious roar tear from his throat as he reached his vibrant peak. His erratic thrusts brought you to a tight little climax, too, and you clung to him and whined and rode through the pleasure as he fucked madly up inside you, spurting messy shots of cum into your depths.

Gravity took hold of his pleasure, dripping it onto his shaft and pooling it in a sloppy mess between you. And when it was all finally over, you collapsed against his body and you both stayed, airless and spent, wrapped tightly around one another.

It was the bright flash of headlights on the back of his neck that brought you to the surface, moments later.

The inside of the car was warm and stuffy and damp. Had you just come in from outside, you might have realized that it reeked of sex. Sweat and breath and fluid and feeling. The windows were near-opaque, fogged by the dampness of your lovemaking.

It was a moment you might have loved to capture, if you weren’t about to be so rudely interrupted.

The light in your rear windshield was bright white and flashing orange. Unmistakable.

“The tow truck,” you wheezed, scrambling off of Keigo’s lap. “Oh, fuck.”

“Get dressed,” he muttered weakly, already scrambling to get himself cleaned up and decent. He was far more dressed than you were, so you did your best to climb back into the passenger’s seat and slide back into your own clothes. You banged your shin hard on the center console, and your head on the ceiling as your body flailed in retaliation. You crumpled into the front seat and nearly kneed yourself in the mouth trying to scramble back into your pants.

By the time you climbed out of the car, fully dressed, with a few additional bruises, Hawks was already standing on the shoulder, talking to the driver. The driver was wagering a few guesses on what might be wrong with the car. Hawks’ eyes had already glazed over.

“Hey,” he greeted, as he spotted you emerging over his shoulder. He introduced you quietly to the driver before the ballcap-wearing, bearded man spoke again.

“Yeah,” he gruffed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ll give you a lift to garage nearby. It’s kinda late, but he keeps weird hours. I bet he’ll take a look for you, it’s prob’ly an easy fix.”

“That sounds great,” you gushed, clasping your palms together. There was a lot of stiffness settling in around your hips and thighs. You couldn’t be sure if it was a result of the compromising position you’d nearly been discovered in or the whole lot of not moving you’d done for hours before that.

Either way, it felt good to stretch your legs.

“You c’n go ahead and hop in the back,” the driver directed, waving the key that Keigo had apparently already given him in indication. “I’ll get you hooked up, no problem.”

Keigo opened the truck door for you, and you climbed over the passenger’s seat into the back. He followed closely behind you, tugging the door shut and slouching into the opposite side.

You sat in silence; hands clasped between your knees. A confusing air settled between you.

You felt vulnerable and raw and moony. You wanted to hold his hand and curl up to him in the back seat. Kiss his cheeks and tell him how good it was, tell him how much you felt.

For you, though, it could never be that simple. There was no free love for heroes like you.

Pay later, always.

Keigo felt the weight of your gaze. He turned to meet your eyes and shot you a thin smile. You’d seen the look that he’d turned to hide from you, though.

The truck driver climbed into the front seat before words could pass between you. But you didn’t need to hear them to know what they were going to be.

You didn’t need a warning to understand what Monday morning at the agency was going to look like.

#hawks x reader #hawks #takami keigo x reader #takami keigo #hawks x you #takami keigo x you #boku no hero academia #mha fanfic #my hero academia #bnha fanfic

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tonguetiedraven · 2 years

Text

Spellbound and Hellbound

Shrek Au

Summary: Ryuuji had planned it out since he'd gotten stuck in this stupid tower with Karura. His handsome knight (always a boy in his plans) was going to rescue him and whisk him off on their noble steed to live happily ever after. They'd ride off into the sunset and share true love's first kiss.

Instead he was thrown out the window with a laughing, mask wearing knight who had a pet cat.

Then again, the course of True Love never did run smooth.

Part: One, Two (you're here), Three

— — — — —

“No-no!” Ryuuji stuttered, stepping back and gaping at Rin. “You’re a—but you can’t be.” His true love was supposed to be human. He was supposed to be human. This… this couldn’t happen!

The enormous smile that had been on Rin’s soot covered face faded away as Ryuuji spoke. The blue in his eyes seemed to dull, and his tail (how had Ryuuji not noticed the tail?) Fell to the ground.

Kuro hissed and turned around on Rin’s shoulder so his butt was facing Ryuuji.

“Yeah,” Rin sighed, sounding exhausted. “I’m a demon. Come on. We gotta get further before it gets dark. You can walk, right?”

“Where are you going?” He demanded. He could still hear Karura’s shrieks, and it was making his heart hurt, and there was a demon standing in front of him that had just saved him, and nothing was happening like it was supposed to. He was supposed to be woken up with a kiss, confessed to, and whisked away to his happily ever after. Nothing was right!

“Away? Where you’re going too. Come on.” Rin made a move motion and pointed towards the mountainous area that lined the lava pit. “We got a lot of walk to do.”

“What are you talking about? I don’t understand. This… this isn’t what it’s supposed to be like at all!”

Everything was wrong! He was supposed to be rescued and freed before they got out of the tower. He was supposed to be fully human right now, hand in hand with his true love. Instead he was standing under a few trees with a demon and a cat, unkissed, and still something… wrong.

“Well sorry, princess, but this is the way it’s going. Come on, we gotta get going before… Kare—Kur—fire bird gets over here.”

Ryuuji crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the tree to the right. An old pine tree. “No. You didn’t do it right, dumbass. And I’m not a princess!”

“Then stop acting like a whiny one.” Rin stomped his foot petulantly. “It’s not my fault I’m a demon. So stop being an ass about it.”

“I’m not being an ass! You’re just—you’re supposed to stop Karura and you were supposed to wake me up with a kiss, and we were supposed to—”

“A kiss?” Rin’s face went extremely pink and a flare of fire burned over his entire body. They were bright blue flames, and had the result of making his face look a bit purple.

Ryuuji yelped and stumbled back and onto a large rock. He landed on his ass, gaping as Kuro hissed and Rin stared at him with huge eyes.

“No one said anything about a kiss!”

“You’re on fire!” What the hell did a kiss matter right now?! (And why did Rin sound so upset about it? He wasn’t that ugly right now. A bit disheveled, perhaps, and his clothes weren’t exactly new, but — what was he thinking?! Rin was on fire!)

“Huh?” Rin blinked and looked down at himself. He made a surprised noise, and just as quickly as they had come, the flames were gone.

Some kind of a fire demon? Just his luck.

“Sorry about that.” Rin looked back up at him a bit sheepishly. “What were you talking about?”

Ryuuji stared at him for a long moment. He seemed entirely fine. Not even mildly hurt. “Who are you? I don’t… did no one tell you? Knights… you’re supposed to rescue me and wake me up by true love’s kiss. We’re supposed to have a happily ever after. That’s the entire reason I was locked up.”

Well, the curse curing kiss was the reason he was locked up. Desperate times and all that bullshit. He couldn’t go out and about without that part. He had to break this damned curse, and there wasn’t a hell of a lot of time to do it. This knight, demon or not, was the one that had rescued him, and therefore, by all the fairytales Ryuuji had ever read, he was the one that was going to break the curse.

“Oh,” Rin’s eyes widened more. They really were a stunning sort of blue. “Is that it? Then no problem! I’m just, uh, rescuing you for another guy. He’s the one that wants to marry you.”

Rin said it like it was silly. Indignation mixed with the shame in Ryuuji’s gut.

(Marry?)

“Oh. Who is it then?” And why weren’t they here?

Rin’s eyes darted to Kuro who made a weird sort of hissing noise that was almost a laugh. Rin snickered as well before masking it. “Someone with a big personality.” Rin grinned all toothily. It was a nice smile, sharp teeth and all. Rin looked… comfortable. He looked content even standing under these trees covered in soot and sweat. He wasn’t hiding his horns, ears, or fangs. Even his tail was swaying happily.

“Yeah?”

Rin laughed, and Ryuuji realized he’d been making some kind of joke. The indignation pushed the shame aside, and a hot anger joined it. How dare Rin make fun of his future husband (shit, was it a guy?) Someone had wanted him. Someone had found out about him and hired(?) Rin to save him. Someone wanted him to be returned to them, and someone was going to marry him. He’d been chosen, and he wasn’t the only prince/princess locked up. They were practically a dime a dozen.

How dare Rin pick on that person. Whoever they were, they were Ryuuji’s.

“Shut up!” He snapped, rising to his feet and propping his hands on his hips. “I’ll bet they’re twice the man you are!” And not a demon.

Rin positively cackled. “He—” (yes!) “—absolutely is!” Kuro made his hissing laugh, and very nearly fell off Rin’s shoulder.

Ryuuji didn’t get it at all. He hadn’t talked to another human in ages and he was rusty on jokes and small talk of any sort. So he reverted to what he always did. He crossed his arms over his chest and stormed off towards the tower.

“Fuck you! Tell my future husband he can just come get me himse—agh!”

Rin grabbed him around the waist and hefted him up like he didn’t weigh any more than Kuro. “Nope, not gonna happen.” Rin twisted on his heel, still holding Ryuuji up in the air even while he flailed. “You’re coming with me. This ain’t a negative.”

What?

“Let me go!” Ryuuji pounded at Rin’s arms to absolutely no avail. Three more steps saw him tossed over Rin’s shoulder like a bag of grain. Rin hooked his arm behind Ryuuji’s knees and grabbed Ryuuji’s left arm with his right one, and continued right on his merry way. His tail was weaving good naturedly through the air, just out of Ryuuji’s reach.

“Might as well get comfortable, princess.”

Ryuuji pounded at Rin’s back and bellowed pointlessly.

— — — — —

“So,” Kuro said, because apparently he could talk and just took a bit to warm up to people, “you just read?”

“Not just read,” Ryuuji answered as they strolled along the forest. This wasn’t exactly comfortable, Rin bounced too much with every step to be comfortable, but it wasn’t terrible. He’d more or less gotten used to hanging off Rin’s shoulder.

“Then what?” Rin asked, joining the conversation with a curious tilt of his head. Ryuuji pointedly didn’t look at him. He hadn’t forgiven him for his earlier words or the manhandling yet.

“I ran, learned to fight, learned new languages, drew…” He had a small mushroom garden, but he wasn’t going to talk about that. “And yeah, I read.”

“That’s a lot of time to spend reading.”

“Well it ain’t like I had a lot else to do!” He could only spend so many hours a day meditating.

“What did ya eat?” Rin asked.

“Mushrooms.” Lots and lots of mushrooms. All the damn time. Every type of mushroom.

“Yeah?! Like soup?”

Ryuuji turned his head over and stared at Rin. There had been so much enthusiasm in that question. “Yeah? Sometimes.”

“What kind of mushrooms? What seasonings? Anything else in it?”

Ryuuji opened his mouth only to close it again. Rin’s cheeks turned a bit pink under his gaze.

“What?” Rin muttered, “I like cooking.”

“Yeah?” A demon that liked cooking? “That why you do the fire thing?”

Rin’s eyes went hilariously large. He stopped walking, and his mouth popped open. Ryuuji felt himself slip a little and scrambled to get a hold on Rin before he fell. Rin’s arm wrapped back around him.

“Oops!” he laughed, “Sorry about that.” He offered Ryuuji a quick smile before turning on his heel to face Kuro. “We gotta try that! I bet I could do fish! I could cook ‘em as we walk back to the monast— home. Think of how quick I could do that!”

Kuro’s paws danced against the grass in excitement. “Yes!”

Their excitement was infectious, even if Ryuuji still wanted to be grumpy. He didn’t want to be dragged somewhere, and he was still upset about his ruined dreams. He’d been planning his rescue for years, and it didn’t feel so much like he’d been rescued as kidnapped.

(What was Karura going to eat without him?)

Despite all that, he still felt his own lips quirking up in a small smile.

“Yeah, well you can try it after you drop me off.”

“I’m not gonna be able to wait that long!” Rin bounced a little in place, jostling Ryuuji and making his stomach turn over.

“Stop that!”

Rin laughed, and then apologized a bit sheepishly. “Here, you can walk now. Just promise you won’t try and run away?”

Ryuuji nodded fervently. As hot (ha) as it was that Rin could carry him this easily, he preferred walking.

He got on his own feet and straightened his robes carefully before freezing. “Wait, how long is it going to be?”

“Took me a solid week to get here, princess. Should only take a week to get back. Don’t worry, I can carry you while you sleep.”

Ryuuji’s eyes shot to the sinking sun frantically. “A week?! It’ll take that long?”

Rin shrugged and frowned. I mean, yeah? Your tower was really far out there, man.”

“No!” Shit, shit, shit! He couldn’t stay out over night. Now without— they couldn’t know! No one could know. He had to be free and he had to get that damn kiss so he could be what he was supposed to be. (Not that monster.) He had to take love’s true form!

Rin shared a nervous look with Kuro. “Uh, sorry?”

“We gotta make camp then.” He needed to hide. How long till the sun went down? An hour? Less? Shit!

“It’s no problem, really. I can—”

“No! Camp!” Ryuuji stomped off, scanning the area frantically. He needed something he could hide in. Anything would work. He already felt prickly all over, and he wasn’t sure if it was the damned magic or his own nerves.

“Hey!” Rin darted after him and grabbed his arm. He was forced around to face Rin. “You’re not going anywhere by yourself!” The words were growled, and Rin’s fangs suddenly seemed bigger. Deadly. The horns on his head seemed bigger as well, though it just might have been how close Ryuuji was.

His eyes were still shockingly blue. Entirely enrapturing in their hue and the sheer emotion in them. They were breathtaking, even with the red glow of his pupils. (Somehow the red just made the blue pop all the more.)

“I’m not your prisoner!” He had barely been free. He had too much to do to just be switching jailors.

Rin’s brow furrowed. “Prisoner? What—you’re not leaving ‘cause it’s dangerous, and I gotta be the one to deliver you.”

Deliver him? “I’m not some package.” Why hadn’t his future husband come for him? It wasn’t supposed to be like this! He’d stomp his foot but it wouldn’t do any good and they were wasting what little time they had.

“Fine! Let’s find ya a cave, princess! Since you’re too precious to stick it out through the night.”

Ryuuji tore his arm free with a scowl. “Unhand me! I don’t know what you were told by— by-” shit. He didn’t even know his future husband’s name. “By my suitor—” that was so lame “—but I’m not—”

“Gedoin. Lord Gedoin.”

Ryuuji stopped mid rant. “Lord Gedoin?”

Rin nodded. “I don’t know his first name. Sorry.”

Gedoin. Ryuuji murmured it to himself, testing it out. It felt strangely heavy on his tongue. Gedoin, his future husband. Gedoin who chose him, but wouldn’t actually come for him.

Rin grabbed his arm and Ryuuji didn’t notice.

“He’s blond. Kinda short. Wears glasses. Hates demons.”

Blond? Ryuuji could work with that. His hand moved to pat his own streak of blond hair. He wasn’t sure it would still be around once his… problem was fixed. Wait, hates demons?

Kuro hissed something that made Rin huff out a breath that was almost a laugh, but not quite happy enough to be one. “Nah,” he said, “he doesn’t need to know that yet.”

“Know what?” Ryuuji brought his free arm around his chest. He didn’t like any of this. It wasn’t the way he was supposed to be, and an entire week on the road was not good. Rin was going to find out, especially if he hated camping.

Rin plastered on a fake smile. “Nothing, princess.”

Ryuuji ripped his arm free and stomped off again with Rin and Kuro following.

— — — — —

Ryuuji barely found the cave before the sun was set. He tore the bark off a tree without thinking about how weird it was that he was strong enough to do that, and promptly hid himself inside right as the white smoke began to cover his body.

Rushing as far back into the cave as he could, he dropped into a crouch, curled his arms around his knees, and pressed his face against his knees to muffle his cries as the transformation happened.

It hurt every time. His gums would bleed, his head would throb, his ears would ache, and his chest would burn as the miasma coated his lungs. He could breathe fine once he was transformed, but the transition was agony. All he could do was endure until he was changed.

Now he couldn’t even cry out. Karura wasn’t here to heal it better until he was whole.

It was over in a matter of minutes, but it felt like hours.

Exhaling slowly, he straightened up the slightest bit, just enough to stop his horns from pressing painfully in his knees, and stared down at his hands. His claws were in place now. He could feel them digging into his shoes as well. He managed to get his shoes off and free his feet before they could ruin his shoes. Apparently there was going to be a lot of walking.

With his feet free, he stretched his legs out and leaned back against the cold rock wall.

By night one way, by day another. This will be the norm, until given true love’s first kiss, then you will take love’s true form.

The pustules were already forming along his hands and arms. He could feel the tightness on his face as well. Bundles of miasma ready to pop and infect someone. He couldn’t just be a demon, he had to be one that spread disease and rot.

He didn’t have Karura to burn them away now. The cave would be covered in this shit by the morning. He’d have to get Rin and Kuro away before they could notice.

Rin and Kuro…

How had he been rescued by two demons?

And holy shit, he had been rescued. He… for the first time in a decade, he wasn’t locked in that tower. He was nearly free. He had walked through a forest. He had pressed his hand against an actual tree.

Ryuuji could go home. He could head back to his little temple in the forest, and… he could see his parents. He could see his family. After the wedding, there wouldn’t be this horrible rot to infect them. He wouldn’t have to worry about nearly killing his mother. He wouldn’t hurt anyone. He could go back and… would the garden still be there? Was his dad still speaking the morning chants? Would Konekomaru and Renzou remember him?

He hadn’t grabbed the goodbye letters they’d written him before he left. Hopefully Karura wouldn’t burn them.

Were there stars out? Would they look different than they did through his tiny window?

He suddenly needed to see. It didn’t seem real, not trapped in this tiny space. He couldn’t be free. There couldn’t be an escape within his reach.

The makeshift bark door was still in place, so he slipped up to it quietly and peered between the cracks up at the night sky. The stars were brilliantly bright out here. There wasn’t any smoke or ash to obscure them from his view. All the old constellations were still there. He could see the time keeper, the kitsune, the twins… all the stories his mother and father used to tell him about the stars came flooding back with the sight.

“It’s not like that!”

Ryuuji drew back in sudden surprise. He’d forgotten Rin and Kuro were out there. They’d made a little fire and were sitting in front of it, side by side. Rin was sitting hunched slightly forward, seeming agitated.

“Then what is it like?” Kuro asked. He’d grown a bit larger. Not as large as he’d been when he’d leapt over the lava, but larger than a normal cat.

Ryuuji peaked out again. What were they talking about? His demon rescuers…

“It’s just—everyone has always looked at me and seen the same thing. I ain’t like you. I can’t pretend I’m a cat, or a human. Everyone looks at me an it’s just: ‘ah! An ugly demon! Run away before he kills you!’ and that’s before they find out I’m… you know. I just… They all judge me before they even know me. I don’t get a chance with anybody. But… with them… With them I’ve always been Rin. I gotta get them back. I gotta do it. Whatever it takes. If that means putting up with a prince whose disgusted ‘cause I’m a demon, then I’ll do it. I’ll carry him the whole way if I gotta.”

Ryuuij sank back into the darkness of his cave.

-- -- -- -- --

A/N: Find the story on ao3 over here

#bonrin #ao no exorcist #blue exorcist #ryuuji suguro #my tumblr fics #ryuji suguro #rin okumura #bon suguro #aoex #bon/rin #bon x rin #bonfire #shrek au

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my-simp-land · 3 years

Text

My Whole World

Bucky wants to go for a motorcycle ride, and you end up going with him as his "chaperone." A beautiful kaleidoscope awaits you. Bucky x reader. 1954 words. Fluff. Have fun on the ride :))

“Hey Friday? Do we have any grapes?”

“We do not, Miss. We have gala apples, bananas, blueberries, mangos, strawberries, and watermelon.”

“Strawberries and sugar, it is. Thank you, Friday.”

“You’re welcome, Miss.”

It’s a short walk to the kitchen. I’m on hall GERS, so I have to walk through the common area to get to the kitchen. As I approached, I could hear quite the argument. Likely, Bucky and Sam. Or Bucky and Tony. The way I describe it, and it might be my bias, but Bucky isn’t actually the problem. Bucky and Sam were like a married couple; they could fight all day and go home and climb into bed together. Bucky and Tony are something else though. After Bucky’s rehabilitation in Wakanda, it took a while for Tony to accept Bucky’s apology and allow him to stay in the compound without constant surveillance. That was a tense period of times. Bucky always tries to be kind to Tony, but if Tony gets slightly agitated then it’s on.

“It’s just a ride. The bike has trackers. My arm has trackers. I can even be back before dark.”

“I don’t care, tin man. You’re not leaving the premises without a chaperone. You live with the Avengers, and if you run or turn or get captured, what does that say about us?”

“I won’t be turned! Shuri got it out of my head! And Vision and (Y/N) made sure of it! I don’t understa-”

Now is a good time if any. “Hey guys. Have any dinner plans?”

Silence.

“Well...I’m just gonna grab some strawberries real quick then I’ll be out of your hair.”

It was deathly silent as I arranged my plate with strawberries and fixed a little ramekin with some sugar. It’s usually Sam and Bucky that do the staring contest, but Tony can be childish too.

“I don’t think I need a babysitter.”

“And I don’t care.”

And the bomb dropped. They were yelling over each other to quite a degree. Yelling was never your thing. Or any loud noise in all honesty. Trauma does funny things to you. You could see Steve and Sam at the common room entrance and Wanda and Nat at the other hall enterance. I’m certain we are about to see the beginning of the second civil war.

“YOU’RE SCARING (Y/N)!”

“YOU’RE THE ONE THAT BROUGHT IT UP WITH HER STILL HERE! YOU SHOULD APOLOGIZE!”

“YOU RAISED YOUR VOICE FIRST! IT WAS JUST A NORMAL CONVERSA-”

“BULLSHIT! YOU JUST CAN’T LIVE WIT-”

“i’ll do it.”

Everything seemed to stand still. Onlookers happened to turn to me, and Bucky and Tony were locked in another staring contest. I guess I’ll have to say it again.

“I’ll do it. I’ll ride with you, Bucky. Just- just stop yelling please.”

Bucky sighed and looked away from Tony, losing the contest. “Doll, you don’t have to ride with me. I’ll just put it off. You don’t even like motorcycles. I’ll just hang here.” He tried to do that smile that would make me agree. I coud see it in his blue eyes that he was sad about it though. It seems to him that I’m agreeing with Tony about him needing a babysitter.

“No. We’ll ride. I trust you to drive.”

His eyes nearly doubled in size. I knew I hooked him. It wasn’t often that someone said that to him, even after his rehab. I do trust him though. He’s always protected me on missions, HYDRA and Avengers alike. He’s the most dangerous person I know, but I know without a doubt that he would save me should something happen on our drive.

“Okay. That’s settled. Thank you for riding with Tin Man. I’ll see you two once you’re back.”

Tony turned and left the kitchen. It seems like everyone else cleared out pretty quick too. That just leaves me, Bucky, and my strawberries.

“You can uh, eat before we go. I didn’t plan on being back soon.”

“Okay.”

“And maybe something a little warmer. It gets cold on the mountain after dark.”

“Alright. I’ll meet you in 45.”

A quick snack, refresh, and change of clothes later, I was stepping into the garage to meet Bucky. When you stepped in, you could spot Bucky near the back looking at Tony’s father’s car. Tony would keep them out of sight, but Bucky and Steve enjoyed them. It also reminded them of how different they are.

“Hey Buck. Ready to go?”

“Yeah, doll. Just...looking. Steve is letting us borrow his bike. Let me show you some safety stuff on it...just in case, y’know.”

We walked over to the Steve’s bike. It was a pretty bikes, but you’d seen it plenty. Steve loved that thing like it was a child. Bucky however, he was something else. He had his long hair pulled back into a half up half down look. His stubble had recently graduated into a beard. The extra dark hair on his face made his blue eyes pop even more. His outfit though. It was rare to see him out of his usual hoodie, basketball shorts, and slides or his field outfit. He had dressed warm for the occasion. Bucky wore his leather coat over a navy henley. He wore dark jeans and heavy iron toed boots. He was the definition of…

“Doll, you listening?”

“Uh, no.”

“I figured as much. Put your helmet on and we’ll go.”

“What about your helmet? I know you might not have much up there, but it is quite a pretty face.” His eye roll was so hard it probably could’ve detached his eyes.

“Super soldier, angel. I don’t nee-”

“James Buchanan, I will not get on a death trap motorcycle with someone who doesn’t have a helmet on. Do you even have a driver’s license? Muchless a motorcycle license?”

“I’ll put a helmet on if you don’t ask about my license situation anymore. Deal?”

“You drive a hard bargain. Okay, deal.” I handed him my helmet. He slipped it on as I grabbed another. Maybe this was a bad idea.

“Hop on, doll. Yeah, just like that. Scoot closer. Closer. Like right up against- yeah. Yes. Alrighty. Your feet will rest here and here. Keep them there so you don’t burn yourself on the motor. Perfect, dollface. Now, just hold on. Not- no. Doll, hold on to me. You won’t have any stability behind me.”

“I don’t know about this…”

“You agreed. Just hold me like you hold that big green frog marshmallow thing.”

“Bucky!”

“Yeah, I’ve seen you clutch that thing. I’m honestly surprised you haven’t busted it yet. Now hold on.”

“I hate you.”

He laughed that sweet beautiful laugh. It was rare to get a genuine laugh out of him, so maybe this death machine was worth it. “I know you do.”

And we were off. Back tire skidded and fish tailed behind us. Tony would complain about that. My helmet was glued between Bucky’s shoulder blades. My screams and Bucky’s laughter filled the comms. The wind blew past us, but my arms didn’t let up on Bucky’s torso. My heart felt like it was beating out my chest. I’m certain he could feel my heart on his back. I could feel us turn through the curvy mountain roads. Thankfully I listened to Bucky and got a thicker coat or I would be frozen to the bone.

“Doll, look up.”

“No. My head is gonna fly off if I look up.”

“I promise, doll. Don’t you trust me.”

Fuck.

I would much rather be shot again than lift my head from the safety of Bucky’s back, but he pulled the stupid trust card. “You can do it, angel. It’s so worth it.”

It was slow motion. My head came up, and the wind blew across my helmet and down my neck. I had to blink to get used to the light again. Everything was so beautiful, The yellow-greens of the spring leaves created a beautiful kaleidoscope of colors around us. White blossoms littered the road and fell around us. Sunbeams poked through the leaves and reflected off in a perfect way.

“Wow.”

“Yeah. We’ll stop up here to watch the sunset.”

Everything seemed to slow down. I was so enamored by the scenery I didn’t notice Bucky stealing glances at my big head. I definitely looked like a bobble head.

Bucky pulled off the road onto a lookout. We had the perfect view of the valley.

“Wow Bucky. Look! You can see the compound from here! Oh wow. The trees are so pretty. Everything is...golden.”

“Yeah. I remember driving up here a couple times before the war. The first time I came was not long after Becca was born. I was still really young, but I remember the stars sparkling. It was the first time I had ever seen them. Y’know, being in Brooklyn and light pollution and what not. I knew I wanted to spend every night here, just looking at the stars.”

Bucky shuffled a little closer. I could feel the heat radiating from him. We faced the sun as it set deeper into the valley. Everything was turning from a nice green yellow to orange and golden,

“The second time was not long before I was shipped out. I had saved up enough for gas to borrow my pa’s truck. We spent all day here. It was unbearably hot all day. Poor Steve, he was still a bean pole, and I basically had to sell my soul to keep him long enough to see the sunset. It was worth it though. I would do it everyday for him. We stood here, just like us, and watched the sunset. We’d seen the sunset plenty, but his face when he looked up and saw those stars. His face was priceless.”

I could see how much Steve meant to him, and how much he missed his home. Even though he was getting better at fitting in, it still wasn’t where he belonged.

“I’m sorry, Buck. I wish I could take you back.”

“No, no, no. Doll. I didn’t mean it that way.” His hands covered my shoulders, flesh and metal. “I’m trying to say...oh lord how do i? I’ve only brought my best friend here and now you and...I don’t know. I’m not as smooth as I was. Just uh...I want you to know that you’re special to me. In a Steve but not Steve way.”

My mouth was a perfect O. I knew I was daft, but this is a new low. My brain was already short-circuiting, but I shut down when he grabbed my face. I was stuck staring into his ocean blue eyes.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yes.”

His soft lips touched mine. My body was suddenly in motion. Our chests were squished together and my hands found their way to the back of his neck, his hair intertwined my fingers. In that moment, his breath became mine. Our souls were one. Everything I was flowed through him, and everything he was flowed through me. Fuck the sunset, this is something else.

We pulled away. It was like post nut clarity. “I hope you did the same for Steve when you brought him.” Bucky died laughing. The full belly laugh that would hurt if you laughed too long. It was highly contagious because I was leaning into him. “You know Steve is too modest to do something as passionate as that.”

Our laughter trailed off, and we were left staring at the valley. We missed the actual sunset, but you could begin to see the stars poking through.

“It’s like looking over the whole world.”

“Yeah, my whole world.”

yoooo. i hope you enjoyed. i love doing little domestic pieces like this. if you have some ideas for domestic pieces you want to see, please send me an ask. i can't promise i'll write since i'm inconsistent af, but it might motivated me more :))

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #fatws bucky #bucky fic #bucky x you #bucky imagine #marvel #sebastian stan #fluff #fanfic #bucky barns fanfiction

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popculturebuffet · 2 years

Text

House of Mouse: Mickey’s Magical Christmas: Snowed In At the House of Mouse: A Rope of Sand Review (Patreon Review WeirdKev27)

Ho ho ho all you holly jolly people! We’ve come to the end of my christmas reviews for the year (i’m saving Danny Phantom for next year, don’t you worry), as I take time to spend with my love ones, relax, and bask in the warm glow of christmas.

So with that it’s approriate to cap it off witht he final of the trilogy of house of mouse christmas specials: the DTV movie snowed in at the house of mouse. Like the last one it reuses wraparound material, shorts and what have you. But also like the last one it has more theatrical shorts, and unlike that one the wraparound is actually charming this time instead of a waste of a REALLY great premise. SO a nice little bit of christmas.

As with the last complation film, due to doing the other house of mouse christmas episode i’ve also done 2 1/2 of the shorts contained within. So like last time I did this with House of Villians i’ll be copy and pasting my reviews of those segments into this one, except for the christmas light fight as only a part of that segement made it over and frankly, most of it was spent on something they threw out, this monstrosity

That way if your just coming in for snowed in at the house of mouse you don’t have to redo those segments. It’s also.. weird being this close to done with House of Mouse. As I said last time i’m not going away from it entirely, i’ll return for the right episode.. but it’s going to be weird NOT having this show on my monthly schedule. It won’t be quite the same when I go back so i’m going out on a high next time. As for this time see what I thought of this movie, it’s shorts, and it’s holiday cheer under the cut.

Going segements first again since the wraparound ties things off more climactically again. Let’s a go.

Donald On Ice:

This one is pretty good but hampered by the ending. The boys build a snowman for a contest while donald skates with himself baby, and slides his way on over into some shenanigans. Again it works fine: the slapstick is pitch perfect, with mouseworks having really gotten what makes Donald work a lot of the time, and it goes a bit nuts in the best way possible as Donald gets chased by a mutant killer snow goon at one point.

Yup. No explination just a murder snowman. The boys snowman gets ruined in the process of the chase and.. donald gets chased off into the sunset.. because a snowman tried to kill him because he.. wanted to skate peacefully on his own? Yeah the ending sours what could’ve been a true classic, and thus weakens the whole short. Still might be worth a look just be wary of that.

Pluto’s Christmas Tree

One of only two shorts here that wasn’t recycled.. and it’s Chip N Dale.. and Pluto. Again

It’s what you’d expect from the title: Mickey finds a tree to chop down, dosen’t realize the two banes of my existance when their not two gumshoes who have our backs in it and they procede to torment pluto a bit who Mickey dosen’t seem to get has a reason for acting up. It’s still BETTER than a lot of these as Mickey dosen’t tourture the poor dog and Chip N Dale have a reasonable catalyst for their bullshit. Mickey chopped down their home and took it in his home. They just want revenge and to not get set on fire... oh yeah Mickey nearly sets Chip on fire because he imitated a santa candle. Or was it dale. Point is Mickey nearly set another rodent ablaze and angered his mousey god that’s the take away here.

It’s.. fine. Obviously the fact I typed that like a man who just had his toe stepped on by an innocent child means i’m not the target audience for this short but it’s decent enough and Mickey sparing the two rodents because it’s christmas, while being saranaded by his friends doing carols is really sweet. TLDR, not for me, but not bad. And for a Chip N Dale short that’s the highest praise I can give it. ood lord the one upside of not doing this is never having ot see those assholes outside of a trench coat or hawiaan shirt again unless I WANT TO. Hallejuah and holy shit where’s the tyllenol.

The Nutcracker:

This is another one of those big, beautiful two part shorts they did, the kind that really stuck with me all these years. This is easily the best of the two parters i’ve rewatched and were it not for the two part Blot short, which we’ll get to soon enough.

It follows the basic plot of the nutcracker well enough: A vaugely aged girl is given a nutcracker by her eccentric uncle, said girl shrinks down, dances and romances with the nutcracker. Then she gets kidnapped by the rat king who wants to make her his bride because that’s all villians could think of back then, the nutcracker breaks his testicles with a silver baseball bat, everyone’s happy and then you loose 20 minutes of your life watching the dance of the sugarplum faries. And that’s without having seen the play in 20 years, it’s homaged and redone like this that much.

This short has fun with that by using the narrator, who interacts with the cast. THe best of this is at the start when Ludvig, playing the uncle (Minnie is naturally the girl, Mickey the nutcracker and Donald the rat king), gets increasingly pissed off at the narrator not letting him speak and narrating over all his lines. Ludvig is always a delight but here he’ sin top form with just the best expressions. Eventaully the narrator gets fed up with this and LITERALLY throws him out of the story uncle phil style. IT’s great stuff.

Donald meanwhile grumbles about his roll and only agrees when the narrator lies and says he’ll win in the end which only works due to Donald’s war on literacy.

Finally we have Goofy showing up and the narrator refusing to get in the middle of his whose on first shenanigans, and goofy simply putting a hat on to signify he’s the snow fairy. It’s truly fantastic and the ending, with Ludvig becoming the sugarplum fairy, is great and lampshades how utterly pointless that segment is. A true christmastime classic. Check it out.

Mickey’s Christmas Carol And now for the real meat of this movie. Clocking in at 28 minutes, this is the longest work featured on House of Mouse, with the HOM cut chopping it down only slightly. But frankly it’s the perfect showstopper to this movie, and i’m glad I finally saw it as this special, i’ts more of a special than a short really, is a true christmas feast.

Like some other shorts we’ve covered, this takes Mickey and Co and transplants them into classic literature. And given this came LONG before Mouseworks and this very show, I feel those shorts later on wouldn’t of existed without this for good reason. Out of them this is the best, a nicely crafted, short and sweet take on Dicken’s well worn tale.

Like the other looks at classic literature, the beats are the same: Ebeneezer Scrooge, played here by Scrooge McDuck .of course, in Alan Young’s first time in his long career voicing scooge, is a wealthy old bastard who mistreats his only employee Bob Cratchet (Mickey Mouse), his nephew Fred (Donald Duck of course), and some guys coming to collect for the poor (Ratty and Moley from Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride), all while reveling in his greed. He’s then visited that night by the Ghost of his Partner, Jacob Marley (Goofy) who warns him of the grisly fate his past leaves him on bound by the chains of his sins and tells him three ghosts will be here to set him straight: The Ghost of Christmas Past, who shows Scrooge his past as he was a kind young man with a loving girlfriend and a nice boss who gave up love for greed, the ghost of christmas present (The Giant from Mickey’s take on Jack and the Bean Stalk) where he sees Bob Cratchet barely strugglyg to feed his family and support his sickly son tiny tim, and Future (played by pete ) where Tiny Tim and Scrooge is dead, the latter unloved. Scrooge turns things around, donates a bunch to the poor, offers to go to freds and makes Cratchet partner. It’s a story we all know and love evne if it’s been told so. many. times.

So rather than go blow by blow, i’d rather go into why this special is so amazing. For starters we have the main reason: Alan Young as Scrooge. This is his first time playing the character in an actual story (having done some records before this), and he nails it, steps into the roll like he was born for it and let’s be real, he totally was. Scrooge’s greed, selfishness and arrogance are all well on display, as is his vunerabliity as the ghosts strip away his ego and reveal the consequences of his actions. He truly and perfectly merges Ebeneezer Scrooge with Scrooge McDuck, a feat that isn’t easy to the point Muppets had a human just play the role outright instead of try to make one of their own step into it. Here though Scrooge, and not just ofr the name, is perfect for the role and is damn hilarous too, from the simletaniously heartbreaking scene where he fines his fiance for their honemoon cottage, to him shoing out the charity guys by using some roundabout logic to say they’d be out of work, to finally on christmas day saying he can’t go out like this (with his coat over his jam Jams).. and then simply grabbing his cane and deciding he can now. This is one of Young’s best performances at the character and steals the show.

The rest though just works: each character is well represented but also has bits of their disney selves: Fred gets angry at one point (while still being mostly joyful) since he is donald, and Goofy gets some wonderfully awesome slapstick as ebineezer, while Pete has his signature sneer yet is somehow just as terrifying as the ghost of christmas future should be. It makes this feel wholly i’ts own depsite again the story having been told 80 dozen times before and after this. I also like all the clever animated canon character uses: Jiminy cricket as christmas past, the giant as christmas present, mr toad as fezziwig. It’s all inspired and wonderful stuff.

Finally we have the animation: it’s beautiful even decades later, to the point I watched the Disney+ cut of this rather than house of mouse to get it in the best quality, and it was worth it. Gorgeous crisp and expressive animation.

All in all easily one of disney’s standout works with the classic crew, and a holiday classic i’ll be revisiting every year after this. Truly a miracle.

Snowed in At the House of Mouse:

Finally we have this wraparound and while like last time it reuses some bits (the what i’m thankful for bits from the thanksgiving ep and Ludvig’s display of how santa gets around which I feel I neglected to ention so I am now: it’s a fun one where Ludvig clones himself, steals his mom’s cookies and in general is just nice to watch) it has a more solid throughline and story, opting to go simplier. Given House of Villians wasted a far more ambitious premise this was the right call.

This time around Mickey is finishing up his christmas show for the year, only to find out their snowed in. So Mickey decides to double down, and have a big christmas party with everyone to make their spirits bright. Donald naturally is a humbug about everything, so Mickey makes it his goal to cheer his friend up with some shorts and cheer. It’s a nice, wonderful idea that uses both well. The scene where Mickey, seeingly defeated talks to jiminy, realizing both the true meaning of christmas (making others feel good) and wishing for a way to make everyone feel it, thus getting a christmas star is great as is the ending: Mickey gives Donald the star, which geninely warms him with the gesture, to put on top of the tree, finally winning him over in time for christmas carol.

Then.. it all ends in a way that melts my heart. All the disney cast get together.. and sing a warm and lovely christmas song. Seeing all these characters, including Belle and Aerial in solos of all characters, such a lovely little bit, and by their va’s too if i’m not mistaken, come together, good or bad to share in christmas and the warm glow.. it just warms my heart so hot it’s now replaced the sun. It’s a truly touching and joyous way to end this film.

As you can probably tell.. I think this movie is great. LIke House of Villians it packs the best themed shorts in with a few nice bonuses, capping it off in one of Disney’s finest works. They even have a nice original bit of the man on the street segment from the other christmas special I loved and no mortimer sexual harassment! Huzzah! It’s a truly nice, breezy little film, full of great shorts, cheers and a wonderful lesson and song to play us out. Check this one out if you can, still not on Disney+ still have a grudge about that.

I got one more bit of house of mouse to get to but for now.. i’m going to enjoy this christmas eve, enjoy my family, and my own warmth of cheer. And i’d like to thank kev for getting me to watch this wondreful film. I hope you have a merry christmas bud, as do all of you. Whatever you celebrate, I hope it’s making your spirit bright. Thanks for reading, I Love you all.

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godofsexdrugsandrocknroll · 3 years

Text

A Tragic Case of Relentless Stupidity

Jaune: *Glares at Yang and Blake giggling and feeding each other finger foods*

*Jaune runs up, flips the table over scattering food and making the two girls jump before running away - escaping through their 23rd floor window*

—————–

Ruby: Mmmmm. *Is kissed*

Oscar: *Pulls back from kiss, smiling gently*

Jaune: *Irritated*

Oscar: *Steps back* How about we take Jaune home, baby?

Jaune: *RKO outta nowhere’s Oscar*

Ruby: *Shrieks* What the heck, Jaune!?

Jaune: *Is too busy being a viper, hissing and staring at the unconscious Oscar’s body*

—————–

Glynda: *Laughs cheerfully into scroll* Oh Bart--

*Jaune angrily runs up and slaps her scroll to the ground, stomps it into pieces, glares at her and then proceeds to sprint out of the rebuilding Vale*

—————–

Nora: HA! You’re no match for Renny and me’s sick combos, fearless leader! *Button mashes as Ren smiles next to her*

Ren: *Rubs Nora’s back*

Jaune: *Triggered af, proceeds to fall back on years of video gaming and utterly destroys them both*

Nora: Awww. We’re dead, Renny.

Ren: I wouldn’t have it any other way than together, Nora. *Nora tears up*

*Glass shatters as Jaune chucks the console out the window and dives out of it like a professional swimmer*

—————–

Weiss: *Excitedly* And then he actually proposed! Right there, with the sunset and the waves crashing on the beach and *tears up a bit* it was just so romantic of him.

Sun: Gotta give it to my boy, conquering the ocean for his girl is pretty cool.

Neptune: *Blushes*

*Jaune has had enough of the engagement party, flings glass of wine at Weiss whose mouth drops open as she drips with it and steals Sun’s glass from a stunned hand, does the same to Neptune*

Jaune: Good day! *Storms off*

—————–

Raven: *Uncomfortable, embarrassed* You actually mean that, don’t you?

Tai: *Very serious* Do you think I’d joke about something like this, Rae?

*Raven looks sad, but hopeful. Jaune, who was busy digging up a tree for Tai felt his blood boil and chucked a huge amount of dirt at the two of them*

Tai: *Yells and falls into his house*

Raven: *Spitting, yanking at the chest of her top before freezing* MY HAIR!!!

*Jaune runs*

—————–

Qrow: *Clapping Winter’s cheeks*

Winter: *Getting clapped and loving it*

Jaune: *Enters room, freezes*

Also Jaune: *Aims scroll at the two and takes a picture*

Qrow: What the fuck!? *Trying to hide his dick*

Winter: *Lets out a little scream and tries to pull pants up* N-no, please, delete it - aaahhhh, he’s leaving! *Sprints after him*

—————–

Maria: Ahh, I’ve been waiting all day for this.

*Happily eating pistachio ice cream cone*

Jaune: *Angrily smacks her cone to the sidewalk, splattering and shattering it* Get the fuck outta here with that bullshit!

—————–

Jaune: *Walking into his apartment after several annoying days angrily* --with that shit, I ain’t even gonna play with that shit! If I can’t be happy, in love or getting laid then nobody can!

Jaune:

Jaune: *Looks at Neo stretched across his couch, laying there and sleeping peacefully beneath a big, comfy pink blanket with her hair mussed from sleep and looking adorable*

Jaune: *Realizes* Oh shit! I forgot I am happy, in love and am getting laid on a regular basis! *Slaps himself in the face* Fuck. Equality for all. Forgive me, adorable love of my life, but Mama Arc didn’t raise no bitch!

*Runs at Neo, who wakes up bleary eyed and to the sight of Jaune doing a front flip towards her tiny, sleepy frame*

—————–

Jaune: And that’s how I wound up in the hospital. I senton’d my girlfriend, Neo roundhouse kicked me in the head and then put me through the kitchen table and I’m very sorry.

Neo: *Nods grumpily*

Everyone Jaune Fucked With: Good. *Walks off because they’re still pissed*

Jaune: *Sighs* I’m going to be kissing so much ass and not all of it’s gonna be yours, Neo.

Neo: *Pokes him in a broken rib*

Jaune: Ow! I deserved that. Oh. I deserve it. *Winces* Ohhhh. I’m on the couch, aren’t I?

Neo: *Holds a finger up*

Jaune: Awww man, a month? *Neo gives him an ‘are you serious right now?’ face* Yeah alright. Stupid brain, always getting me in trouble.

——————————————————————————–

Hey, look who wrote Snowbird into one of these despite not liking Snowbird at all.

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ms-demeanor · 4 years

Note

You are the one who reblogged a post with a bunch of resources about treating wounds and foraging and using a rifle. You, other anarchists, are where I’m getting the sense of the “life” I’m supposed to look forward to. Not movies.

You know how I know you’re not talking about me?

Because I’m actually really, really fucking cautious about not reblogging information about foraging because I literally know someone who poisoned his dumb ass foraging and died and I would not share that kind of resource with someone who I’m not 100% sure is excellent at woodcraft and has a shitload of outdoor experience. I actually pretty stridently recommend that you DON’T learn how to forage from online resources.

Juuuuuust in case I double checked my blog back through august.

What are you talking about? No forage resources or rifle resources here, at least not for the last 22 days. The one wound treatment thing I’ve reblogged this month is a link to CERT classes, which are community emergency response classes.

I don’t make a secret of the fact that I am pro gun ownership but I also don’t make a secret of the fact that I think if people are pro gun they also need to be pro gun safety education - there are way too many firearms in the US for us to *not* teach kids how to handle them safely. But I sure do NOT talk about having gun battles on this blog because I think that’s glorifying a fantasy version of a fast, easy revolution that I don’t believe in.

(however, as always, if you’re in my general area, don’t know how to use guns, and would like to learn I am available to teach you the basics, as much as social distancing and global pandemics allow anyway)

But. Also.

Buddy, let’s pretend it’s four years ago, or nine years ago, or twenty years ago. Let’s pretend that whatever party is in office doesn’t matter and is totally unrelated to everything.

Have you ever lived through a large earthquake?

A tornado?

A hurricane?

Sometimes infrastructure fails and knowing how to treat wounds is a very, very, very good idea.

Everyone should take a first aid class. I think first aid classes should be a requirement for graduating high school. I first got CPR certified with my girl scout troop when I was 12 and my mom took me to a mobile morgue class when I was 7 because my mom was the department safety coordinator for the DWP in Los Angeles and she was in charge of earthquake drills and first aid training and disaster preparedness and the Northridge quake had just happened.

I grew up taking first aid incredibly seriously, reading “Hatchet,” and my idea of fun is getting a vehicle stuck in an inland sea or going backpacking and encountering a bear. Learning woundcare and treatment for heatstroke and hypothermia is. Like. It’s a pretty big part of making sure I’m doing stupid bullshit as safely as possible.

Also, yeah, I’ve totally superglued my finger closed and used fishing finger wraps to seal a cut and used coffee stir sticks and electrical tape to make finger splint. Even with insurance it still costs me a couple hundred dollars to go to the ER or several hours to go to an urgent care, and that’s when I’ve HAD insurance. Knowing how to safely treat non-life-threatening injuries is just something you should know how to do if you’re broke in America; I’m lucky that I can afford to go to the ER now; that has not always been the case for me.

You ever hung out with really drunk friends? Do you know how to check eye tracking? Do you know how to put someone in the recovery position?

You ever had a friend get clocked with a boot in the pit? Do you know how to check pupil dilation to see if you need to get to a hospital ASAP?

Buddy, you don’t have to be worried about the end of the world to want to get prepared to handle an injury while camping and you don’t have to be an anarchist to think it’s a good idea to know how to treat heatstroke.

ANYWAY there’s this flaw in the human brain called negativity bias, which is where we remember negative, scary stuff more than we remember good, positive stuff.

I’m generally a pretty positive blogger, the resource lists I reblog tend to be things like “here are mutual aid groups” and “learn how to be a hacker” and “here’s how to support people who lose access to abortion.” If you’re getting primarily negativity out of the stuff that I’m reblogging I believe you’re missing the forest for the trees, bud.

The way to handle and cope with negativity bias is to be aware of it! If you’re sitting there going “everything is terrible!” ask yourself “is everything actually really terrible or am I only remembering terrible things?”

2020 is actually a fucking FANTASTIC example of that because there has been a lot of bad shit going on but there have also been really great examples of humans helping each other and people working to take care of each other and apparently Venus might have aliens and that’s just really fucking cool. There is a BUNCH of negative shit out there and we do hear about it all the time but don’t let that bury the positive shit.

You know what I want people to take away from that resource post? That you can and should protect your community from speed traps by reporting cops on traffic apps, and that by reporting cops on traffic apps you are doing a tangibly good thing to prevent marginalized groups from being targeted by police.

That’s a real, simple, easy thing that you can do to actually help people - speed traps don’t work if people don’t know about them and it’s why cops have tried to make it illegal for drivers to warn each other about them.

The idea that the government of the United States is going to collapse tomorrow and things will devolve into gun battles in the streets and foraging to keep from starving seems fairly farfetched but even if that does happen you know that mutual aid helped people survive the great depression, right?

And I don’t want to do the “you should feel #blessed that you’re better off than those people in POOR, UNDEVELOPED countries” thing but people get up and live their lives every day in conditions that require them to forage and navigate violent areas.

It’s shitty that people have to live like that, I wish they didn’t have to and I don’t want more people to have to live in extreme poverty in places that are violent, but it seems kind of. I don’t know. Arrogant? To decide you’re better than that so you might as well lay down and die.

“What do I have to look forward to” - buddy, the world doesn’t owe you a happy ending. You have the rest of your life to look forward to. You have friendships and laughter and cool projects and the people you’ll help someday and the people who will help you someday and sunsets and ripe fruit and meteor showers to look forward to.

Nearly everywhere in the world, through all of history, even peasants danced.

You’ve got the world to look forward to.

And if everything does go to hell in a handbasket and there are gun battles in the streets and you’re trying to make sure you’re gathering morels and not deathcaps then you’ve STILL got the world to look forward to and how you go into it is going to be up to you no matter how a fucking election turns out.

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splintergirl13 · 3 years

Note

So here is a little head cannon I thought of while reading your fan fic.

What if herobrine never had/celebrated his birthday so he forgot when it was, so Steve and Alex pick a day and celebrate his birthday with him. (P.s. sorry I have horrific grammer)

I liked this idea so much I made a little drabble under the read more :3 I hope it is worthy of such an great headcanon! Thank you so much for the ask! It fills me with joy to hear that people are thinking about my story lol <3. And don't worry. Grammar is hard and doesn't make any sense. I feel your pain

Before we dive in: this takes place pretty earlier into Steve and Brine becoming friends. So they are just starting to pine. Not in a relationship yet. Alex and Brine are still a little wary of each other but have come to accept that they are stuck with each other.

I'd say this is rated teen for just some small strong language lol

The Birthday Brine

It was a hot, lazy summer afternoon. Too nice to spend down in the mines. But a little too warm to do any strenuous activities.

So Alex and Steve decided to go on down to the small river they frequented on days like today. A secluded area where the water pooled deep enough to swim. And, of course, Herobrine tagged along. As was becoming more of the norm these days.

Steve was lying comfortably in the shade of a few trees on the bank of the river. Legs in the water; small waves lapped up to his knees as the water went by. Arms crossed behind his head. His shirt was off and laid over his eyes, shutting out any of the light that filtered through the leaves. Not really dozing off, but close to it.

Herobrine was similarly relaxing. He lay on his belly; balanced precariously on a nearby tree that had fallen over the river. Looking like a big cat lounging about in the direct sun. Soaking up the rays. One hand was draped down to the side, touching the cool water.

Alex was the only one fully in the river. She was a little upstream, floating on her back. She had taken off her pants, leaving them on the shore, and let her long green shirt cover her lower half. Every once in a while she would swim back to her original place as the current took her down towards Herobrine.

The trio had been chatting absentmindedly. Talking about anything, really. Steve ranted humorously about his pickaxe making a squeaking sound. Alex discussed way too many of the current happenings in town. Even Herobrine brought up that a dragonfly had landed on his shoulder. Which had the trio all staring for a bit before it flew off and they went back to their current positions.

It wasn't until a certain question came to Alex’s mind that the peace of the scene was disturbed.

"Hey Sparky." The adventurer asked. "...How old are you?"

Herobrine took a while to answer. Seeming to think through the question slowly. Finally he asked without opening his eyes. "Why?"

"Just curious." Alex shrugged, swimming a little.

The demon shifted. Now peaking over to look at Steve. It was like the miner could tell that he was being looked at because he lifted his shirt to look back questioningly.

Herobrine spoke up. "When was the last time I respawned? Four months ago?"

Steve frowned. "Yes. More like three. You fell through a roof, remember?"

"Right, right." Herobrine moved his hand up out of the water. "Terribly made and rusty old structure. Glad it forced a respawn. Tetanus is not fun even with healing powers."

"Why is this relevant?" Alex asked impatiently.

"I'm 28." Herobrine said immediately.

Alex sat up in the water. Causing a bit of a ruckus amongst some fish that had gotten close. "No you're not!"

"Yes I am." Herobrine turned his attention to her. She shuddered ever so slightly under his scrutinizing stare. "Every time I die, I respawn back to the same age at which I turned immortal."

Alex crossed her hands over her chest. "Okay, well that's only technically. I meant, like, if you count ALL the years you've been alive."

"I have no fucking clue, Alex." Herobrine rolled his head to the otherside of the tree to ignore her. Yet continued to talk. "Time loses all meaning when you're immortal. Not to mention I was trapped in the nether for most of that time. So it's even harder to tell."

"What's your best guess?" Steve asked, now curious as well.

And the head came back around. Looking at Steve. The demon wouldn't ignore the miner. He bit his lip, eyes trailing towards the water. "I dunno... maybe a few centuries... a millennia or so..."

"Old." Steve clarified. Seeing that the demon was struggling a little.

"Yeah... old." Herobrine scowled.

"So, what, do we have to, like, wait until you live a year to celebrate your birthday?" Alex giggled. "No wonder you don't remember it. It would never be your birthday based on that criteria."

Herobrine scoffed. "What are you talking about?"

"Yeah." Steve added, putting the shirt back over his eyes. "Come to think of it, when is your birthday, Brine?"

"You want to know the exact date I was born?" Herobrine sat up now, clearly confused. "Fuck... I don't know. I didn't even keep track of days back then. I just survived. It wasn't until I met... my brother that we talked about days. And he was able to do some weird 'code calculation' as he called it to figure out my true age. But we didn't really care about that. None of us counted in the aether. None of us wanted to count. When you have endless time you tend not to care. It's a depressing chore."

"So none of you celebrated your birthday?" Alex asked.

"Why would you celebrate your birth?" Herobrine growled. "Existence is a curse."

"That's why we have to celebrate!" Alex exclaimed. "It helps us mortals to forget about our fleeting existence."

"Yeah!" Steve enthusiastically raised a fist to the sky in agreement.

"Like the aether needed another reason to celebrate..." Herobrine grumbled, flopping back down on the tree. "The amount of bullshit dances I had to get dressed up for was astronomical."

"So you really have never had a birthday, huh?" Steve wasn't sure why he was surprised.

"Nope." Herobrine said, popping the p and settling back on the tree. Thinking that was the end of the conversation.

But Steve and Alex had other plans.

"Bro you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"You think we have enough time today?"

"Sure why not? We were already planning on going into town together."

"Then we better hurry."

"What are you two talking about?" Herobrine muttered. The siblings were getting out of the water and putting back on their clothes.

"We're going to throw you a birthday party!" Steve smiled over at him.

Herobrine almost fell off his branch.

"W-what? Why?"

Alex shrugged. "Well, if you don't know what day your birthday is, it might as well be any day. And since we are already all together and don't have any plans for the rest of the evening... why not?"

Herobrine teleported off his tree and stood next to the two. "You really don't need to-"

"Too late, it's happening." Alex smiled. Starting to walk off. Not putting on her shoes as she walked through the increasingly tall grass.

"Go wait in the nether and come back around sunset!" Steve pushed on his back excitedly. As if he could shove him through a portal that wasn't there.

"Why?"

"We are gonna surprise you!"

"Oh. Yippee. Surprise." Herobrine did not mask his unenthusiasm.

"It'll be fun, I promise." Steve said as he stopped pushing and went to go join Alex.

Herobrine was left alone and very confused as to what had just happened. He blinked up at the setting sun and winced. He wouldn't know the correct time in the nether. So he decided to go back to his tree branch and relax until the time came. He had no idea what was in store for him. But he didn't try to think too hard about it. If he didn't like it he could always teleport away.

All this talk of aether and age had his head buzzing with unpleasant thoughts. He tried to will them away and think of nothing instead. Watching as the river flowed beneath him. The dragonfly landed back on his hands.

It was just after sunset when Herobrine was walking up to Steve's small house and knocking on the door. Steve was adamant about him knocking. As Herobrine had the tendency to just teleport into a location, unannounced. There was the sound of muffled talking as well as a wonderful smell of something cooking in the furnace.

He heard the miner walk towards the door, he recognized his footsteps easily. Much different than Alex’s.

Steve cracked open the door. "Herobrine, you have perfect timing! We are just finishing up."

Herobrine tried to move forward but Steve closed the door more. He smiled, shyly. "Er. You gotta close your eyes."

"... Why?"

Steve smiled wider. "It's all part of the process."

So Herobrine huffed and closed his eyes. Steve took him by the hand. Leading him inside. Herobrine could feel his heartbeat where they connected. The miner was excited. So Herobrine was excited.

He was led into the house and then Steve stopped and walked over to join where he could sense Alex.

"Surprise!" They both yelled.

Herobrine stood there with his eyes closed. Face oozing confusion.

"Open your eyes now, Brine." Steve whispered loudly to him.

"Oh." And he did. He blinked and took in the sight.

The inside of the house was decorated with a few colored strings on the ceiling and what seemed to be little torches everywhere else. It was very simple and yet very pretty.

"Do you like it?" Alex asked.

"We didn't have too much time to decorate so we made due with what we had." Steve said. "Probably not as fancy as your aether parties."

"No." Herobrine smiled. "But I like this better." The aether parties were always decorated with too much. This was nice and made Herobrine feel cozy.

Alex gestured to the table, patting the chair to sit down. "Since it's pretty late we figured we'd just do a birthday dinner. Steve said you would eat if we made you food."

Herobrine nodded. Glad he hadn't had anything to eat for a while. He wasn't the biggest fan of eating. Steve had been reintroducing it to him slowly. The miner was an excellent cook.

"Good!" Alex smiled. Steve sat next to Herobrine at the table. "I handled dinner and Steve handled the most important part of a birthday, the dessert!"

"It all smells nice." Herobrine commented politely. It did. He was actually excited to eat.

Alex disappeared into the kitchen. Preparing plates for them all. Steve and Herobrine shared a look. Both smiling, somewhat uncomfortable and comfortable at the same time. It didn't last long as Alex came out with two plates, setting it down in front of them.

The meal consisted of roasted corn, slathered in butter, some sort of shredded pork on bread with some sweet sauce, and a cold potato salad. Steve instantly dug in. Probably hungry from all the work they had been doing. Herobrine waited for Alex to return with her own plate before starting to pick at the food. It wasn't long before he was eating more sloppily than Steve. Alex apologized, saying she wanted to make something more special like a smoked biscuit but Herobrine wasn't sure why she was sorry. It was all delicious. And Herobrine found himself wanting to eat the entire plate. It was the perfect meal on the warm night.

The house was filled with the delightful sounds of eating. None of them talked very much. Not needing to. Just enjoying each other’s company. And the food! They were all very invested in the food.

Once they were done, Herobrine was tempted to ask for more. But he remembered that there was still dessert to eat. He started to try to clean up his plate. But Steve stopped him immediately. "Ah, ah. No dishes when it's your birthday."

"Hmm. This birthday business keeps getting better." Herobrine smirked at him.

Steve disappeared into the kitchen and returned with two plates filled with two generous slices of homemade chocolate cake.

He set them down in front of Alex and his own seats. "We have a special slice for you, Herobrine. Hold on."

Steve rushed away and walked slowly back with a similar piece of cake. But this one had a very tiny torch stuck in the middle of it. Herobrine blinked. Huh. Strange.

"It's a candle." Steve explained. "It's a tradition to have some on your cake. We only had this old one." He set the on fire cake in front of him. Herobrine enjoyed the fire flare. "Usually you have a candle for every year you've been alive."

"But that would've set the house on fire." Alex snickered.

Herobrine rolled his eyes and tried to grab his fork. But Alex stopped him. "Wait! We have to sing to you!"

"Er, no thanks." That seemed silly. He did not want to be sung to.

Steve made a face. "I don't like that part either. I think we should skip it."

"We have to! It's tradition!" Alex wrapped her elbow around Steve’s neck. "Come on, Stevie. One time!"

"Alright. Alright." He caved easily. And they began.

Herobrine sat awkwardly as the two sang a little song. Saying his name. Herobrine had never heard Steve sing. It was nice. He had a pleasant voice. He thought the man should sing more. He hummed a lot but never truly sang.

Once they were done. Alex said. "Now you make a wish and blow out the candle."

"A wish? Wish for what?"

"For anything." Steve added. "But you have to wish in your head. And don't tell anyone or your wish won't come true."

"Like a curse?"

"Yeah kinda. But it's just for fun."

The demon chewed on his lip. Seeming to think about it. He nodded eventually. "Okay. I've made my wish."

"Now blow out the candle to complete the spell." Alex joked. Steve nudged her.

Herobrine looked at the small torch on the cake and willed the fire away. It went out.

Alex and Steve stared. Alex giggled. "Guess there's more than one way to skin an ocelot."

"Why would you-" Herobrine blinked.

"It's an expression." Steve laughed, sitting down and picking up his fork to eat his piece of cake. "Ignore her and dig in while the cake is still warm."

Herobrine did, setting the small torch- candle aside and picking up his fork to eat. The cake looked moist. Fresh. And smelled absolutely delicious. His mouth was watering before he even put the treat in his mouth.

When he took a bite he almost moaned. "H-holy fuck." He quickly took another bite.

Alex giggled. "Never had a Steve-made cake have you?"

"Steve, you should stop cooking everything and just make cake from now on." Herobrine had almost finished his piece already. It was just so damn good. He couldn't stop.

"Then it wouldn't be special." Steve chuckled. Looking happy that they both seemed to be enjoying his cake.

"Can I have more?" Herobrine asked, frosting definitely smeared all over his face, unabashedly.

Steve and Alex howled at that. The demon just looked so different from how they normally saw him. It was nice. And also hilarious.

Herobeine got a second slice and sat back, looking full. The demon didn't usually eat so it was a lot all at once. Totally worth it though.

"Present time!" Alex jumped up from the table as Steve moved the dishes into the kitchen.

"Present time?" Herobrine parroted.

"You get presents on your birthday!" Alex walked over to grab two things that had been set aside on a coffee table. "From everyone who comes to the party."

Alex handed Steve something and walked back to the table to give Herobrine a rectangle that looked like a book wrapped in paper. Herobrine took it confused. "Er, thanks?" He held it in his hands.

"You gotta open it dude!" Alex said excitedly.

"Open it?"

"Yeah tear open the paper!"

"Oh." Herobrine, a demon of destruction, ironically opened the book very carefully. Not wanting to damage it.

He held the book up once it was unwrapped. It was, indeed, a book. Not too hard to guess correctly.

"It's a book of modern day phrases." Alex explained. Tapping the cover. She smirked. "I know that you have some trouble with some of our more modern hip lingo."

Herobrine lifted an eyebrow at her. He flipped to a random page. "There's more than one way to skin an ocelot? Oh. I get your 'joke' now."

"See. You're learning already." She snickered. Steve smiled too.

Herobrine looked confused. But not unappreciative. He waved his hand, tucking the book away into his inventory. "Er, thanks. I will read the rest later."

"No problem!" She giggled. She then pushed Steve forward. "Go ahead, your turn."

Steve had a paper package tied up in butcher's twine behind his back. He coughed and walked forward, handing Herobrine the parcel.

The demon took it. Knowing what to do now, he tore into the paper. Revealing what was inside.

He paused when he realized what it was after pulling all the paper off and letting it float to the ground.

"It's... your cloak." Herobrine said. Not giving away any emotion. Steve seemed to droop a little. Expecting him to be a little happier. Alex nudged the miner. They shared a look. Steve rolled his eyes. He walked closer to the demon, touching the cloak in his hands.

"I knew it would already fit you. And there wasn't enough time to get you a new one made. I just know how much you like to borrow it from me when it gets colder." Steve ran his fingers along the cloak. Pointing out some stitching on the green material. "I sewed up all the holes so it won't be as drafty. And-" He tapped the button that held the cloak together. "I replaced the old latch with a golden one I got from town today. I know you said you like to wear a little gold in the nether for piglin respect or... whatever." The miner let go of the cloak and backed up, rubbing his head awkwardly.

Herobrine stared at the green gloak. Rubbing the material in his fingers.

"If... if you don't like-"

"I love it." Herobrine almost whispered. Sounding so genuine it made Steve blush and Alex smile. "It's perfect."

"O-oh." Steve scratched his head again. "Good. I'm glad." He smiled, looking away. Desperately trying to hide his blush. He had gone bright red. And Herobrine wasn't helping.

The demon stood instantly and put the cloak around his body. He had worn it before. But it looked different now. Like it was his now. It was truly his.

Herobrine looked up at Steve. "This is... the greatest gift I've ever been given." He didn't smile but his glowing eyes said it all. He was absolutely telling the truth. "Thank you, Steven."

The miner stared back. Smiling to the side and tilting his head. Embarrassed but screaming on the inside in happiness.

Alex had to butt in. Not liking the way the two were looking at each other and getting a little protective of Steve. "Pfft. Thanks a lot there, Briney boy. Glad my gift meant nothing."

Herobrine blinked. Processing the words. And then realized. "Oh, no, sorry Alex. Thank you as well."

"Yeah whatever." Alex nudged him with her fist, walking past him. She then let out a yawn. "Well. I think I'm all birthday partied out. Mind if I crash on your couch, Stevie? It's too late to walk home."

"Sure I'll get you some blankets." Steve mimicked the yawn. His eyes looked tired. They did do a lot to put the party together for him. They deserved a rest. "Happy Birthday, Brine."

"Thank you." Herobrine nodded. "Thank you both. This was... enjoyable."

"See our traditions aren't so bad." Alex said, flopping down on the couch.

"I do believe I've judged it too early." Herobrine nodded. "You do this every year?"

"Yep. And you get to do the planning and gift giving to us when it's our birthdays. No party is exactly the same." Alex nodded. "I think planning is actually more fun than celebrating your own birthday."

"Oh. Well I look forward to that. You will have to remind me when the time comes. Time is... difficult for me."

"Of course, dude." Steve produced some blankets from the closet. Herobrine sensed it was time to make his leave. He headed for the door.

"Thank you again." He said a little awkwardly. "I will uh, see you both tomorrow."

"Sounds good!" "Bye!" The siblings said.

And with Herobrine out the door. Steve and Alex looked at each other.

"I think that went well." Steve said.

"I think you owe me money for not making a single birthday suit joke." Alex said back. He threw the blankets over her head as she giggled.

"Goodnight Alex!" He went to his bedroom, trying to hide his blush. "Put out the candles before you sleep."

"I'm just saying, Stevie! That would've been a better gift if you-"

"Goodnight Alex!!"

Herobrine stood just outside the door. He wiggled his shoulders a little. Feeling the soft weight of the cloth around his shoulders. He smiled. Feeling warm inside and out. And teleported off.

#herosteve #fluff pining and stupidity #ask #jaraemonfox #fic #writng

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baby-bearie · 4 years

Text

this is love

jj maybank x reader

tags:@sunflowermotel @howdyherron @drew-starkey @yelyahryan @obxwriterfan @avashroom @rewindlr @raekenliar @imsad05 @ceruleanjj @dolanfivsosxox @maybe-maybanks @katie-avery @maraseavey @outerbanqs @heyhargrove

a/n: this is heavily inspired by the short story “The Way We Love Here” by Dhonielle Clayton from the book Meet-Cute (my favorite book ever you should read it). and definitely an odd choice for a jj fic but i kind of liked it! you know, believe in magic every once in a while!

warnings: mention of violence, a few swear words

You study the wavy line across your wrist. It’s still so bare. You’re not old enough for the thin tattoo to have developed, grown a pattern, vines, anything.

This is the way soulmates find each other.

Everybody is born with a tattoo across their wrist. A simplistic line. A variety of them. Dotted lines, wavy lines, straight lines, diagonals. All of your possible soulmates have the same type of design. And as you grow older, as you get closer to learning how to love someone and love yourself, the lines develop. Some grow a mixture of flowers and vines, some develop a stripey pattern or more lines. But once it’s done developing, the tattoo matches the one on the wrist of your one true love.

You’re young, too young for the tattoo to be developing. It’s okay.

You can wait.

You can wait, knowing he’s out there. He’s out there and one day he’ll be yours and you’ll be his.

Until then, you have no knowledge of love. To love, to be loved, it’s all so foreign. You’re sure you won’t even know love when it does finally hit you.

That is, to love someone new.

You love your family. You love your dog. You love the feel of the wind in your hair on evening bike rides. You love sitting on the steps of your house and watching the people pass by. And you love surfing.

More than anything, you love surfing.

You’ve paddled out onto the water a while ago. Your hair is dripping with saltwater, and you now straddle your board, legs dipped into the blue.

It’s so peaceful out here. The sun is setting now, dipping under the water, casting an array of pinks and oranges over the waves.

At times like this you wish he would hurry up and find you.

You wonder if he’s not ready and that’s why your line hasn’t developed.

You think you are.

“Hey!” You hear a deep voice yell out. You look up from your hand and see a boy on a board paddling towards you.

“Hey.” You call back. You don’t know him. He paddles closer and closer, and you see that his hair is blonde, and just as soaked as yours. Locks fall onto his forehead.

“I was watching you surf earlier. You’re, uh, you’re pretty good,” he smiles. It’s a pretty smile.

“Thanks. You too.” That’s a lie. You haven’t seen him surf.

“I’m JJ, by the way.”

“Y/n.”

“That’s a nice name.” “Is that all you came to ask me about?”

You don’t mean to snap at him, but your evening surf is usually to decompress. Take in the sunset and just think for a while. “I came to ask why you stopped.” “To watch the sunset.” “You weren’t really, though. You were watching your board, more like.”

Well, he’s a no bullshit type of guy, isn’t he.

You hold up your wrist. There’s no point in keeping anything from this stranger. You probably won’t see him again.

He smiles and holds up his wrist in return. So he is from here, if he has the tattoo.

As you lean forward to look at it, you’re surprised to see the same wavy line on your wrist.

This boy could possibly be your soulmate. He’s cute, you’ll give him that. He’s also annoying. You’ll give him that, too.

He uses his hand to push his hair back.

“I don’t meet many people with my mark.” You nod at his wrist.

“Yeah, me neither. Only like, 4 or 5.”

It’s quiet and you appreciate it, savor it before he starts talking again.

“You know, they say if you touch someone with the same mark, you can see your possible futures together.”

Oh, so he’s crazy too.

“Yeah, they also say that you could die if you do that.” He shrugs.

“Fuck it. What have you got to lose?” “This. Sunsets. My family. The water.”

“I think you got a hell of a lot more to gain.” He argues.

“Yeah? Like what?” You scoff.

“Me,” he smiles, a wide one. “No, I don’t know what your plan is here, but we are not doing this.” “Come on, it could be fun. How often do you get this chance?”

“How often do I get the chance to die? You’re right, not often. I like to avoid it when I do.” “You won’t die. I promise! I’m pretty sure they just made that up to scare little kids.” “Did anyone ever tell you you’re like really good at reassuring people?” Your voice is dripping with sarcasm. He laughs. “Oh, yeah, all the time.”

It’s silent for another second.

JJ’s proposition settles in and you realize you really don’t have anything to lose.

You’ve grown sick of waiting.

“I’ll do it.”

JJ’s eyes widen almost cartoonishly and his eyebrows jump a mile up.

“Really?”

You bite your lip. There’s no backing out from here.

“Yes.”

“Ok, ok, let’s do this.” JJ slips off his board and begins to tread water to stay floating. You follow suit, slipping into the water.

“3, 2, 1,” he counts before you dunk underwater.

Once the waves have enveloped you completely, you open your eyes.

JJ is looking at you, and you nearly laugh at how much he looks like a pufferfish with his cheeks puffed out. His hair is sticking up all around his head and yours floats around you.

He raises his eyebrows at you, and you can almost hear the “sure?” he would ask you if he could talk.

You nod and he puts his hand up.

You close your eyes for a second, remembering how the water feels around you, trying to sear it into your memory before you open your eyes. You press your hand up against JJ’s.

The lines connect.

Slowly at first, and then faster and faster, the deep, dark water around you begins to swirl. It begins to create a whirlpool around the two of you, and you turn to JJ with panicked eyes.

He seems completely calm, but you can’t breathe and you’re now sure that this is how you die.

What a way to die.

JJ grabs your other hand with his free one, squeezing it. It grounds you. The water is faster now, nearly cyclonic.

You close your eyes as JJ closes his, and you can’t remember if the water is spinning or you are.

Suddenly, you can no longer hear the rush of the water anymore. You open your eyes, and find you’re on dry land. You gasp for breath.

You swivel your eyes around, trying to spot something that will clue you into where you are.

JJ is nowhere in sight.

It’s cold out, and you’re wearing a huge sweater. It’s definitely not yours. You’re in the middle of the street. By the look of it, you’re still in the Cut.

A door swings open in a house near you. You turn to look at it and a familiar face runs out. “Y/n!” JJ yells.

“JJ!” You’re overcome with a sense of familiarity and comfort at the sight of him. He’s no longer in his swim trunks either. He wears a t-shirt and cargo shorts. You don’t know how you know, but you know the t-shirt smells like JJ. Saltwater, pine trees and freshly cut grass.

He rushes to meet you in the middle of the street.

His hands cup your cheeks, and his eyes are filled with concern.

It feels safe.

“Are you ok? Nothing hurts?” His eyes wash over you, and by the look in them you know he feels the weird sense of comfort too.

“I’m okay. Are you?”

JJ nods.

“Where the hell are we?” You look around you.

“My house.” He turns back and waves towards the small house.

“What are we doing here?”

“I don’t know. Is that my sweater?” JJ points to the comfy clothes you have on.

You’re about to tell him you don’t know when you realize you do, and it is his. You nod.

“What future is this?”

JJ’s face lights up as if he’s been reminded of who he is. “We’re in love.” “We’re in love?” You ask him apprehensively, but suddenly the memories rush back to you too.

Nights together on a couch you seem to know. Wearing his sweater everytime he tries to wear it out anywhere. His lips on your shoulder. A loud bonfire and an arm around your waist.

“We’re in love.” You’re dumbfounded this has worked.

“Can I try something, then?” He’s looking at your lips and you nod. If you’re going to have your first kiss, this is as good a time as any.

He could be your soulmate, right? He leans in and meets your lips and you can’t begin to explain the warmth that spreads over you.

It feels like you’ve felt it a million times before. But it still feels beautiful.

He pulls away and both of you are breathless.

“Woah,” he whispers, and you begin to notice that the water is rushing around your ears again.

You close your eyes and you’re underwater again. The water is still swirling and you don’t dare open your eyes.

You hold your breath, the pressure building on your chest until the rushing suddenly stops.

You open your eyes and you’re standing outside a huge marble stone house front. There’s a small statue next to you and you know for sure you’re not in the Cut anymore.

You look at yourself in a window. You’re wearing a peach silk dress. The straps are thin, and your hair is immaculately curled. You look outside and recognize the function. Midsummers. You’ve never been a part of Midsummers.

You know this means change for you and JJ. You’re not sure what kind of change. You’re not sure who you are.

A man in a suit approaches you and offers you a glass of champagne. You accept it and before he can leave, you stop the man.

“Hey, what am I doing here?”

He laughs a little as if you’ve made a joke.

“It is your house, Mrs. Thornton.”

Mrs. Thornton?

You look down at your hand and a dazzling diamond ring graces your ring finger.

Mrs. Thornton.

The memories flood back into your head. Topper Thornton. Overseas vacations. Private planes. Designer dresses, personal servants, golfing.

“There you are, I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” Another unfamiliar man approaches you, and presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Topper.” The name comes to you.

“The party’s started, what’re you doing in here?”

“Just needed a couple seconds.”

He nods reluctantly but leaves you in the room, returning outside.

“Mrs. Thornton? Really? There’s a future where you pick this Kook over me?” You turn and JJ is standing there, smirking at you.

“Oh, thank god, I was so scared I wouldn’t find you.” You sigh in relief.

“Look at you, all dolled up.” He sticks his hands in his pockets.

You take in his neatly brushed hair, and the suit. It’s the same suit the man who offered you champagne wore.

“You’re not here for the party are you?” You give JJ a sad look. “No, actually, I think I’m here catering?” he laughs.

“JJ,” you begin. He shakes his head.

“No, it’s okay, I wouldn’t want to be a part of this life if I could.”

“Right,” you nod, but somewhere deep down you have the feeling that if you could, you would give him this life in a heartbeat.

Your eyebrows furrow. You still love JJ in this future.

“You feel it too?”

You nod.

“I guess it just,” he pauses to shrug, “didn’t work out in this timeline.”

You look out the window again and meet your husband's eyes. They’re angry and dark. Topper begins moving towards you.

A feeling of terror and anxiety settles in your stomach and you’ve felt it before. He’s going to come hurt JJ. You grab his hand.

“JJ, we gotta go, now.”

“I don’t know how to control this!” He cries out.

Topper has reached you now, and lands one blow on JJ before the water starts rushing again.

You’ve been dunked underwater again and you wait patiently before the rushing stops.

You open your eyes and this time you’re lying on a couch. There’s a huge weight on your chest and you quickly recognize the familiar blond head of hair. You run a hand through it and JJ picks up his head from your chest to look at you.

He smiles at you, a soft one. You stretch. It feels like you’ve laid here for your whole life.

“So, where are we now?” You ask. “This one I don’t know.”

JJ picks up your hand and places his against it.

There’s a simple gold band around his ring finger and yours.

“We got married.” He smiles at you. It’s pure bliss.

“We’re married and we got our own house?” You laugh.

“Hey, I didn’t think I could do it either,” he mimics your expression.

JJ tucks his head into your chest again. It feels right. As if it’s muscle memory, you run your hand up and down his back, and he sighs against your skin.

“You’re a big baby, you know that?”

“Shhh, let me enjoy this. I don’t know if I get to keep it.” His voice is muffled against you.

“JJ,” you look at the picture frame on the small table next to the couch.

He hums.

“JJ, we have a kid.”

His head shoots up, nearly knocking your chin.

He gives you a confused look, then you watch the realization pool in his eyes.

“John?”

“Yeah, John.”

A new set of memories floods your mind. The small wedding, your son, all the times JJ has laid on this couch with you.

You feel safe. You feel happy. This is love.

“If it’s worth anything,” you whisper, “this is my favorite one so far.”

“It’s not. Would you kiss me again if I asked?” “I think I have to in this future.”

JJ laughs and leans up to kiss you. He pulls away with his eyes still closed.

“I feel like I’ve done that a thousand times, and I still never get used to it. What if we just stayed here?”

“I don’t think it’s up to us.” You pat JJ’s back as the water rushes around you again.

You close your eyes and the rushing goes away. You’re still underwater.

You kick upwards and break the surface.

JJ whoops loudly near you.

He swims towards you, but is careful not to touch you again.

“We did it,” his smile is uncontrollable.

“There are future’s where we’re not together. And you get hurt.”

“There’s a future where we have a kid, Y/n.”

“You’re insane, man. We might not even be meant to be.” “I have a feeling that’s not true.

JJ gestures to your wrist and you mouth parts when you realize the wavy lines have grown peaks and dips. They’re turning into actual waves.

JJ holds up his wrist. The same pattern.

You laugh, loudly, slapping a hand over your mouth. Nothing you just felt beats the joy you feel right now.

“I’ll race you back to the beach,” JJ challenges you, smirking.

“We both know I’m faster than you.”

“We both know that’s a lie.”

JJ takes off, paddling his board, and you follow him, yelling to him how big of a baby he is.

You’ve called him that before.

You know you’ll call him that again.

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swan-of-sunrise · 3 years

Text

The Winter Soldier (Chapter Four)

Summary: (Y/N) and Sam worry about their new super-soldier friend after it’s revealed that he’s on the run and wanted by S.H.I.E.L.D., the very agency he’d dedicated himself to.

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: Hope you all enjoy!

Chapter Four (Previous Chapter)

“It’s such bullshit! Captain America’s a criminal now?!”

“I know, Greg.”

“They haven’t even said what he’s done!”

“Yep, it’s ridiculous…”

“How can they organize a manhunt for him but not say what he’s supposedly done?!”

(Y/N) pinched the bridge of her nose and let out a frustrated groan. “Greg, you’re my friend and I love you but I can’t keep having this conversation with you.”

The line was silent for a moment. “What do you mean?”

“We’ve been having the exact same conversation for almost a half an hour! You can’t believe that Cap’s a criminal, I agree, you complain that they haven’t said what he’s wanted for, I agree, then you start going all ‘Law and Order’ on me!” She exclaimed, immediately regretting her outburst; with a sigh, she sat down in her desk chair and rubbed her forehead. “I’m sorry, Greg, that was rude. I don’t like what’s going on either; Captain America stands for freedom and honor, he always has, and it just seems…wrong that he’s the subject of a manhunt. I seriously doubt that Captain America of all people did anything to break the law.”

“Wow, when did you become such a big Cap fan?”

“I went to his exhibit when I was at the Air and Space Museum yesterday, and I guess it got me interested.” (Y/N) half-lied, fidgeting with the sleeve of her sweater as she pressed her phone closer to her ear. “Anyway, the reason I called was to tell you that it might take me a little longer to get the draft of my book to you; I still need to look over the last couple of chapters and with everything happening…it might be hard to focus on writing today.”

“Don’t worry about it, Mike’s busy reading through a nine-hundred-page thriller that was sent in this morning so that’ll give you some time. Sorry to cut this short but I’ve gotta go, I have to check on mine and Mara’s dinner reservation for tonight, so I’ll talk to you later, (Y/N)!”

“Talk to you later, Greg!” (Y/N) hung up and set her cell phone down on the desk with a sigh. Ever since she and Sam turned on the television at breakfast and saw the breaking news, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was horribly wrong; Steve Rogers wouldn’t be on the run from S.H.I.E.L.D. unless he had a damn good reason to be. I’m sure he’s fine, he’s probably been through much tougher scrapes than this, she thought to herself with forced optimism as she turned on her laptop and began typing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Humming along to Billy Joel’s ‘Movin’ Out’, (Y/N)’s fingers flew across her keyboard as she typed and she smiled, proud of the fact that her writer’s block from the week before was now officially over and that she was so close to completing her very first novel. Not bad, not bad at all, she thought, hitting the ‘save’ button and stretching her arms over her head to relieve the build-up tension in her shoulders.

“Now this is good music, Booksmart!”

She spun her desk chair around to see Sam standing in the doorway of her bedroom and raised her eyebrow as she turned down her music. “Oh, so Billy Joel’s okay but everything else I listen to is garbage?”

Sam gave her a teasing eye-roll. “I never said that your music was garbage, I just said it was weird. How’s the writing going today?”

“I edited twelve pages and just spent an hour trying to describe a Soviet Cold War-era missile, so it’s been okay. How was work?”

“It was good, I didn’t have any meetings scheduled so I spent most of the day playing chess with the old timers. I swear, I think Gary cheats but I can’t figure out how he does it…”

(Y/N) shrugged. “Or maybe you should just accept the fact that you’re terrible at chess and the old timers take great pleasure in seeing you lose.”

“Ha, ha, very funny. You still cool with driving me to the shop to pick up my car?”

(Y/N) got up, turning off her computer and unplugging her MP3 player from her speaker with a grin. “Of course! Driver picks the music, though!” She laughed and practically skipped out of the room as Sam let out a groan of defeat and followed her. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic, Birdbrain, it’s not like I’m making you listen to a CD of ambient throat singing!”

“Wouldn’t be surprised if you had some of that…”

Five minutes later, they were on the road and the two of them were singing along to her one of Panic! At The Disco’s newest singles at the top of their lungs; out of the corner of her eye she could see other drivers shooting them odd looks but she couldn’t care less, she was enjoying herself far too much.

Sam chuckled as the song came to a finish. “Damn, their new album is good. You know, I didn’t start listening to alt-rock until I met you.”

“Then you should be thanking me for bringing such good music into your life!” Giggling, (Y/N) turned down the volume and glanced over at the cheerful man sitting beside her, her smile faltering as she asked, “Do you think he’s okay, Sam?”

Her roommate’s expression grew serious and he shook his head. “I really don’t know. I saw on CNN earlier that inside sources claim he’s wanted by S.H.I.E.L.D. in connection to the assassination of their director, but I don’t buy it. The guy we’ve met, who’s so dedicated to his job that he hasn’t bothered getting a life outside of it, wouldn’t be a part of something like that. I think something else’s up and I’ll bet anything he’s out there trying to figure it out.”

(Y/N) bit her bottom lip, nodding after a moment. “Yeah, me too.”

“Just you wait, this whole mess with S.H.I.E.L.D.’ll be cleared up in no time. I’m calling it right now, Steve’s gonna ride up to the VA on his motorcycle and dramatically whisk you off your feet, and the two of you are gonna ride off into the sunset together while one of those sappy love songs you pretend not to like plays in the background.” Sam's teasing smirk widened when her cheeks flushed. “C’mon, Booksmart, you both were mooning over each other like teenagers after the meeting yesterday; I felt like I was in the live studio audience of a soap opera taping.”

“You know, I could always kick you out of the car and make you walk all the way to the shop, if you'd prefer.”

“And I'd still get there before you ‘cause you drive like a grandma...”

Soon after, she pulled into the auto repair shop’s lot, parking under the shade of a tree before turning to Sam with a smile. “Did you want me to stay just in case your car isn’t ready yet?”

“That would be great, actually, thanks!” Sam gave her a grin before getting out of the car and heading into the shop.

(Y/N) rolled down the windows and sighed when she felt the soft spring breeze against her skin. Taking advantage of the peaceful moment, she let her imagination wander and began brainstorming different stories and characters in her head. You should probably finish the book you’re writing before you start on another one, she thought with a playful eye-roll. Her childhood dream of becoming a published author was in the middle of coming true, and she couldn’t be any happier about it.

Just then, her eyes drifted to a silver truck that was driving past the parking lot. It was going fast so she couldn’t get a very good look at the driver, but for a split second she could have sworn that the man driving the truck had the same blonde hair and chiseled jaw as Steve Rogers. Chalking it up to worry for the runaway super-soldier, she closed her eyes and murmured, “Whatever he’s up to, I hope that he’s staying safe.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy!

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4BenknAqQQnOWY8NmSa23V

Tagging: @mrs-obrien @lahoete @awkward117 @cminr @momc95 @awkwardnesshabitat @marinettepotterandplagg @khuang3 @supersouthy @benakenalove @brooke0297 @hufflepeople @becausewelie @outoftheregular @supreme-tantrum

Chapter Five

“The Winter Soldier” Masterlist

#steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers #sam wilson #captain america fic #captain america the winter soldier

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thefloorisbalaclava · 4 years

Text

pragma - part three

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Female Reader

Warnings: angst, someone almost drowns sorta, and there’s a kiss...or two

A/N: I am overwhelmed by the love and support for this fic. It started off as a silly, self-indulgent idea because I just wanted more Frankie! To see all the love for him and my fic is amazing! I love y’all!

Summary: Some memories are best left unspoken but both you and Frankie are having a hard time leaving the past behind.

pragma masterlist

“You’re not wearing the ring,” Frankie said and you opened your eyes.

“No, I’m not. I took it off when I got home from your place.” You moved your hand away from his and looked at your now bare finger.

“I hope it’s not because I made you feel bad.”

You looked at him and smile. “No. It was just time to take it off and your comment on it made me realize that.”

“What happens if he never signs the papers?” Frankie asked.

“Oh, he will. The lawyers cost way too much to keep this going on much longer." You were hopeful but your heart filled with dread.

“I can make him sign ‘em,” he offered.

“What are you saying, Frankie?”

“A little persuasion can go a long way, you know?” He flexed his hands.

“Frankie!” You nudged him and laughed. “Still willing to beat people up for me, huh?”

“Always.” While he was distracted looking out at the lake, you swiped the hat out his back pocket. “Give it back.”

“No.” You put it on. “What do you think?”

“Meh.” He gave you a thumbs down and you gasped.

“Hey!” After laughing for a while and giving his hat back, you both sat in silence again. “Do you remember the morning we came here?” you asked.

“Yeah.” That was the only response you got from him. You could this topic was one that he was hoping to avoid.

“I don’t regret it. What we did the night before you brought me here the first time, I mean.”

“You sure you wanna talk about that?” He lowered his head, hiding his face under the bill of his cap.

“It was bound to come up. We dated. We were…intimate.”

“Yeah, until you decided I wasn’t good enough,” he snapped. “What was it, huh? Did I not make enough money? Was it because I joined the military? What was it?” His voice was calm but you knew he was seething. Maybe you shouldn’t have brought it up.

“You…changed.”

“We all did. It’s part of growing up.” He stared at you as you stood and glared down at him.

“That’s a bullshit excuse and you know it, Cat!” You rarely used that name for him. “It was so much more than that.”

He stood to look at you face-to-face. “Just say it. Go ahead.”

“The drugs, Frankie. How was I supposed to deal with that?” You sobbed then turned away, grabbing your shoes and walking back towards your house.

“No. You don’t get to walk away from me this time!” He followed you, grabbing for your arm but you pulled away.

“Don’t touch me.” You stopped at your front door when you noticed he had stopped following you. He was leaning against his truck putting his boots back on.

“Why’d you have to fucking bring it up, huh? Everything was fine.”

“Excuse me for thinking I could have an adult conversation with you.” You approached him and he put his sunglasses on.

“I warned you. I asked if you really wanted to bring it up.” He looked down and shook his head. “Why’d you have me come here, hm? Did you wanna show me how well you did without me?”

“What?”

“Did you want to show me what I could have had with you if I wasn’t such a fuck up.” He sighed and put his hands on his hips.

“I invited you up here because I…missed you. That’s the only goddamn reason. Won’t happen again.”

“You missed me?” He pointed in the direction of the middle of town. “I was right there. You lived a little under an hour away this entire time and never once tried to visit. And suddenly you miss me? You sure this doesn’t have anything to do with your divorce? You feeling lonely now?”

“Fuck you,” you cried.

“I’m not letting you break my heart again. Don’t give me hope where there is none.”

You moved closer to him and he stood up straight. “You don’t think it broke my heart?”

“You seem to be doing fine to me.”

“God, you’re so fucking…” You couldn’t find the word but you poked at his chest angrily.

“What? What am I?”

“Frustrating,” you said through your teeth before he captured your lips in an earth-shattering kiss. And there it was. All the tension, all the anger melted away. His hat fell from his head as you ran your hands up his neck into his hair. He groaned and the rest of the world went quiet. You needed to pull away. Right now. But his tongue touched yours and you whimpered quietly into the kiss as he deepened it.

When was the last time you kissed him? And when you did was it like this? Had he always been this great of a kisser?

God, his lips were so soft…

He pulled away suddenly and held you at arm’s length, pupils blown wide, hair disheveled, lips swollen. It looked as though he was trying to remember where he was and what he had just done.

“Oh fuck,” he whispered letting you go and picking up his hat. “I’m sorry. I gotta go.”

When you found your voice again you followed him around to the other side of the truck. “You don’t have to…”

“I do.” He got into the pickup and closed the door as if he needed some kind of barrier between the two of you. “I didn’t mean to. You…you’re married.”

“I’m separated and getting a divorce.”

“I just…I gotta go.” He started the car and pulled off without another word.

What the fuck just happened?

Over the course of a few days, you went into town looking for any sign of Frankie. You hadn’t been able to get in touch with him on the phone so this was the next best option. Unfortunately, it seemed as though he was avoiding you like the plague.

After another unsuccessful day of looking for him, you drove home then sat in the car and cried. When your phone rang, you answered so quickly that you didn’t even check to see who was calling.

It was only you lawyer. Most likely ready to share some more bad news. Yeah, why not? It wasn’t like your life wasn’t already spinning out of control.

“Did you hear me?” he asked. “I said he signed the papers. Your divorce is settled.”

“I…what?” You sniffled.

“It’s over,” he said. He started talking some more but you lowered the phone away from your ear and hung up.

“It’s over,” you repeated. You should have been overcome with joy but you felt nothing. With no one to share the news with it wasn’t as exciting. The one person you wanted to be there wanted nothing to do with you.

You walked into the house, unfeeling, like you were some kind of zombie. Truth be told, this is how you had been for the past few days. You took walks and always found yourself back at the lake where you would either get angry and cry or get sad and cry.

Days turned to weeks and every time your phone rang it was never the person you wanted it to be. You could only assume that he hated you. Surely a kiss wouldn’t make him disappear the way he did especially one that happened in the heat of the moment. It didn’t mean anything…

…or did it?

You certainly hadn’t stopped thinking about it and you knew just how sensitive Frankie could be. It explained why he was always so guarded.

You tried calling him again to no avail. To drown your sorrows, you opened a bottle of wine and walked down to the lake again. You couldn’t stay away. It was the place that held the last happy memory of you and Frankie.

“Dammit Frankie,” you whispered, taking a swig of wine straight from the bottle. You hugged yourself against the cool breeze that blew through the trees. It probably wasn’t a good idea to get any closer but you walked out onto the dock and watched the water ripple and wave gently. The sunset reflected beautifully off the water and lulled you into some sort of trance. Still, you drank. You drank until the bottle was halfway empty.

You knew the dock was grounded but you felt as though you were swaying with the wind. You closed your eyes in order to steady yourself.

“Too much. Too fast,” you said to yourself. You took a step and someone called your name. Were you dreaming? You must be. Another step and you were falling. It was like one of those dreams but when you hit the water you realized it wasn’t a dream at all. You were immediately overwhelmed by water—something that wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t been drinking. Someone was sprinting, running down the dock now.

Frankie.

You tried calling his name only to have water fill your mouth making you sputter and choke.

“Shit!” he yelled before jumping into the water after you. The last thing you heard was the splash before closing your eyes and letting the darkness take you.

His voice sounded so far away but he was there, he was calling for you. You were either dreaming or dead.

“Come on, baby. Come on!” He was closer now. So close that you could feel his lips on yours but you struggled to open your eyes. “Shit, shit, shit!” He pressed his mouth to yours again and you gasped, choking on water, and he turned your head carefully. “There you go. Let it out.” His hand was on your back, hitting then rubbing as more water came up.

You tried talking but you couldn’t stop coughing. Your body was weak and you just wanted to sleep.

“Ah ah…eyes open,” Frankie said, shaking you a bit.

“F…Frank…”

“Yeah, it’s me. What the hell were you trying to do, huh? That your way of getting me to kiss you again?” He tried to smile but when he looked at you lying there, he frowned. “We gotta get you inside. Arms around me.” He helped you put your arms around his shoulders before scooping you up.

“Thank you,” you rasped but he shushed you and made his way to your house. Thankfully you left the door unlocked so he opened it and carried you upstairs.

“I’m trailing water and mud all over the place but just remember that I saved your life before getting mad, okay?” He smiled as he carried you into the bathroom and set you down on the side of the bath.

“Okay,” you said quietly. “Towels.” You pointed to the closet in the hall. He ran and came back, quickly wrapping you up and rubbing your arms.

“How are you feeling?”

“Chest hurts,” you murmured.

“Well, you swallowed a bunch of water.” He closed his eyes and sighed. When he opened them again, he pointed at you. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again.”

“Sorry.” Your eyes filled with tears and you wrapped your arms around him. “Where were you?”

“I just needed some time to…process things.” He pulled away and ran his fingers through his wet hair.

“And did you process those things?”

He nodded. “I think so.”

“He signed the papers, you know?” Frankie eyebrows shot up. “Yeah.”

“Congrats.” He finally stood and looked at himself.

“There’s a bathroom downstairs. You need to get out of those clothes.” You hiccuped and covered your mouth, embarrassed. You weren’t sure if it was from the water or from the wine you drank.

“I would say that I could just drive home but I don’t wanna leave you alone tonight.”

“You don’t have to stay. I can throw your clothes in the dryer.”

“I’m staying.” He leaned in so he was eye level. “You gonna be okay by yourself for a bit?”

“Yes.” You stood up and he steadied you. “I’m gonna get naked now,” you warned.

“Oh! Um…downstairs, right?” He left the bathroom quickly and shut the door.

You sat quietly, sipping tea as you waited for Frankie to finish in the bathroom. He was taking a pretty long time and you were ready to go knock on the door to ask if he was okay when he walked out in nothing but a towel.

“Oh,” you said nearly choking on your tea. He held his wet clothes in his arms as he walked over to you, the cap sat on top.

“Mind drying these?”

“Nope.” You took them from him then placed the hat on the coffee table. “Let that air dry.” You looked him up and down then shook your head and looked away. “I have an extra robe if you think that would be more comfortable.”

“Yes please.” You were sure you had some of your ex-husband's clothes packed in a box somewhere but you refused to subject Frankie to that.

After throwing his clothes in the dryer, you grabbed the extra robe and brought it out to him. “I also made you some tea.”

“Thanks.” He stood and you couldn’t help but to look at him again. He had gotten softer in the middle and there were more scars but you admired him even more. The robe was a little snug on him but he seemed comfortable.

“I should be the one thanking you.”

“You already did.” He sat down beside you. “I-"

“Why’d you decide to come back?” you asked.

“Did you not want me to?”

“Of course I did. I just…thought you were through with me.” You looked down at your mug. “You have impeccable timing, by the way. My hero.”

“Hero? Nah. Anyone else would’ve done the same thing.” Color had risen to his cheeks. He was blushing.

“Yeah but you did it. You saved me.” You reached out to him, hesitating slightly before smoothing back a loose strand of hair that had fallen near his eye. “There.”

“I wanted to apologize for, uh, kissing you.” He picked at something on the robe.

“You didn’t like kissing me?” you teased.

“What? No. I did, but I thought maybe you didn’t…want…”

“If you can recall, I kissed you back.” Frankie seemed to want to say something but couldn’t get it out. “What is it?”

“Did you like kissing me?” he asked.

“Yes…and if you ever wanted to do it again, I wouldn’t be opposed to-"

“Good because I have to kiss you again.”

Then he was kissing you, but he held back, making sure you were okay with it first before going any further. When your fingers coursed through his hair and tugged, he knew. He deepened the kiss, cupping your face and smiling when he heard you gasp. You slowly pushed him onto his back so that you were on top of him. He pulled away to smile again, bumping his nose against yours softly before kissing you again.

You felt ten years younger making out with your old boyfriend on a couch while he wore practically nothing. Every time his tongue cautiously slipped into your mouth, you did the same back, letting him know that it was okay.

“Frankie,” you breathed.

“Yeah?”

“Nothing. Just like saying your name.” You smiled at each other and he sat up, putting his hands on your thighs. The shorts you wore were already quite short but with your legs around him like this they were hiked up even more.

Just as he went in for another kiss, the dryer buzzed making you both jump as if you had been doing something wrong. But this wasn’t wrong. At all.

“Your clothes.” You pressed a quick kiss to his lips and when you tried to pull away, he followed, but you put a finger to his lips and he pouted. “Clothes.”

“Yeah, well, it’s probably for the best. Your breathing…lung capacity…probably isn’t at a hundred percent yet because of what happened earlier."

“Francisco Morales, are you trying to say you take my breath away?” you asked as you reluctantly slid yourself off his lap.

“Could be.” He shrugged. “And if you call me Francisco like that again I may be tempted to take a little more away.” You had forgotten how much he enjoyed hearing you say his full name. For everyone else it was ‘don’t call me that’ but for you it was ‘please say it again’.

“I don’t know if that’s a threat or if you’re trying to seduce me,” you quipped.

“Whichever one gets you back here the fastest.” He laughed as you pushed him and held onto your hand as you tried to walk away.

“I’ll be right back.” You pulled your hand away and he pouted again. “Don’t make that face.” You kissed his nose before walking to get his clothes. It didn’t take long but when you got back, he had turned the TV on and was flipping through channels.

“How many channels does this get?” he asked in amazement.

“Too many. Here.” You handed him his clothes and he took them from you only to put them aside. “You’re not gonna put them on?”

“Actually…” He stood and pulled his underwear from the folded clothes. When you turned away to give him privacy he chuckled. “Nothing you haven’t seen before.” You turned and saw that he removed the robe and wore his boxer briefs and t-shirt. “There.”

You waited for him to put more on but he sat down again. “Does this mean you’re staying?” you asked as you sat down.

“I said I was, didn’t I?”

“You did.” You smiled shyly. This would be the first time you two spent a night together in a very long time. He yawned and blinked with heavy lids. “Come on.” You tapped your thigh. “You know you want to.” Without a word, he stretched himself out then laid his head in your lap. The minute you began playing with his hair, his eyes closed.

“This isn’t a dream, right? You’ll be here when I wake up?” he asked.

“I’ll be here, Frankie. I promise.”

[four]

Tags: @cable-kenobi @saltywintersoldat @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @pedrosdoll @psychobillybunny @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @keeper0fthestars

#Frankie Morales #frankie morales x reader #francisco 'catfish' morales #triple frontier #Pedro Pascal #headcanon

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domesticmail · 4 years

Text

you send me - jj maybank

summary: a short-ish fic in which john b. basically forces you and jj to get on a boat and watch the sunset. with slight jealous!jj vibes and some real intense artist!reader vibes

a/n: yes i’m in love with the whole “wild and reckless falls for soft-spoken and gentle” cliche, u can’t stop me from exploring every single possible outcome of this potential relationship :)

taglist: @arthriticcrickets i know u asked to be tagged if i ever wrote anything with artist!reader and jj, so here u are!! i hope u enjoy it :)

warnings: none? mention of beer? cursing?

It all began when you told John B. that you’d never painted a sunset.

You’d been standing in the kitchen of The Chateau, hands under hot water, scrubbing paint from your most recent artistic shenanigans off of your fingers, palms, wrists, and forearms. John B. stood next to you, back leaning against the counter, looking remarkably similar to the ‘white guy blinking’ gif (y’all know the one) - the epitome of disbelief.

“So let me just recap here,” he said. “You call yourself an artist.”

“Yes.”

“You’ve been painting since you were little.”

“Since I was seven, actually.”

“Okay, you’ve been painting for nine years.”

You nod, turning the faucet off. “Yep.”

“And in all that time. In those seven years...” He pauses to hand you a towel, and partially for the dramatic effect. “You’ve never painted a sunset.”

“No,” you laugh. “Why, am I missing out on some cosmic experience?”

“I mean, yeah.” He holds his hands palms-up. “How do you even call yourself an artist if you’ve never done at least one super-cringey painting of a sunset?”

“Um, because I paint other things -”

“Okay, but you’re missing out on a basic artistic revelation -”

The front door shuts, and JJ appears, looking like he usually does: tanned and a little riled up. No hat today, you notice - it’s nice to see his hair, golden and probably really, really soft. Not that you’d know. It’d be nice to know, but - wow. Really off topic here. JJ’s standing in the doorway, looking from you to John B., back to you, to John B., then you again. “Where’s the rest of the group?”

“Pope has scholarship stuff, and Kie and Sarah are helping out at The Wreck,” you answer.

“Oh. Cool.” He looks between you and John B. again. “I’m not interrupting something, am I? Because it kinda feels like I am.”

You and John B. look at each other with the kind of grossed out expression that says ‘No thanks, let’s not think about that ever again, thank you.’

“Yeah, no.” John B. says.

“Not really my type,” you tell JJ.

“Woah, hey, I take offense to that.”

You flick the towel at him with a grin. “I’m not really interested in guys who call me a poser.”

JJ has no idea what you’re talking about, so John B. fills him in: “Dude, she calls herself a painter but she’s never painted a sunset.”

“What? You’re totally posing.”

You groan exaggeratedly. “Not you too.”

“Yeah, sorry, Y/N, but you’re outnumbered here.”

“You’re so right, guys. You’re so right. I’ve been fooling myself this whole time. For seven years.” You shake your head, pretending to be disappointed in yourself.

“Living in total denial,” JJ adds, grinning.

“Oh, no, guys.” John B. fake-gasps, clearly pretending to have found a scientific article on his phone. “WebMD says there’s only one cure.”

“Please, Doctor! I’ll do anything!” You adopt a Trans-Atlantic accent for a second, clasping your hands together and pretending to plead with him.

“Anything?” JJ asks under his breath. You swat his arm playfully, ignoring the way your stomach butterflies when he grins at you.

“Well, Ms. Y/N, it says here that you must paint a sunset by midnight tonight, or else you’re doomed to be an art poser...forever,” John B. explains, his voice dropped to a serious, gravelly tone.

“But Doctor!” You gasp, looking at the time, one hand pressed to your chest in fake astonishment, “Sunset is in two hours! I don’t have time! I promised I would go down to The Wreck and help Kie and Sarah!”

“If it’s to save you from a life of bullshit art galleries and uncomfortable turtlenecks, I’m sure Kie and Sarah won’t mind if I step in for you,” he offers. He clearly is just angling for a reason to spend more time with Sarah, but you don’t mind. Cooking really isn’t your strong suit anyway. JJ snorts at John B., then mouths “SIMP” at you.

You repress a snicker. “But I can’t watch a sunset alone!”

John B. grins. “You won’t have to,” he says. “I know someone who’s not doing anything tonight.”

Both of you turn to look at JJ, who throws his head back and groans. “Fine. But you’re not dragging me into this weird roleplay-pretend-thing.”

So that’s why you’re here. On a boat. At sunset. Sitting next to JJ in a pile of blankets.

You brought the blankets for comfort, a towel for your paints, a canvas for - you guessed it - the actual sunset painting, and a speaker (you have a very specific playlist you like to listen to when you paint; you call it your Paintlist).

Once you settle in, sitting cross-legged next to JJ, who’s holding a beer and looking at the sunset, you grow quiet. It’s nothing against JJ, you just tend to get really into the zone, with the music and the gentle light of the sun and the breeze over the water and the weight of the brush in your hand of a direct line of energy from your mind to the canvas. Your anxiety, your issues, all concern disappears from sight, and all that is real is the pain on the canvas and the way it makes you feel, breathless and weightless and nonexistent but somehow still so alive.

While you lose yourself in the art, JJ’s losing himself in you. There’s something really memorable about the way you look in the light of the sun: your skin aglow, your eyes sparkling. But the best part is how utterly confident you are now. Even though in conversation you constantly downplay your skills, talking about all the flaws in your technique, when you have a brush in your hand, he can literally watch your insecurity wash away. It’s beautiful.

He’s never noticed that you bite your lip when you concentrate. You’re not even really biting it - it’s more like you’re trying to peel it away, layer by layer. It’s weirdly endearing, seeing you in such an unfiltered state. And even though he knows it’s probably because you’re so in the zone that you’ve forgotten he’s here, he likes to think it’s because you trust him.

He also knows that this may just be the beer talking, but something’s telling him to kiss you.

Pogues don’t mack on pogues, he tries to remind himself, but the thought gets buried when he realizes he’s literally the only pogue not macking on another pogue. Well, that’s one of two, if he’s including you, and of course he is, you’re part of the group now! So really there’s only two of six pogues who are actually following the rule.

Wow. When did he start calling himself a rule-follower? The apple must’ve fallen farther of from the tree than he thought if he’d really just -

“JJ? You in there?”

He snaps out of it, your voice pulling him from his thoughts, and only then does he realize that he’s probably been staring at you the whole time. You’re looking at him, slightly confused, eyebrows knit together and mouth pursed, and oh god, come on, pogues don’t mack on pogues but does the rule really matter if nobody is following it? “Yep, yep, sorry, what’d I miss?”

You point to the painting, then to the horizon. The sky has gone dark, and the moon is beaming light onto the water. “Sun’s down.”

He nods, then looks at the painting. “Did you finish?”

“That’s what he said,” you mutter under your breath with a smile, scooting over so he can get a better look at the canvas. Your legs are touching, a weirdly intimate thing that you’ll probably remember for months after. “No. Guess I’m doomed to be a poser forever.”

JJ shrugs. “Pretty shitty, bro.”

“I think I’ll survive. And anyway, it’s really just John B. teasing me, so who cares?” You grin at him, but he’s not looking at you anymore, he’s watching the sky with an intense fascination that’s unlike him regularly. “JJ?”

He clears his throat. “Uh, weird question that’s probably not my business, but...”

Your heart swells in your chest, and you feel so concerned. “What?”

“Are you macking on John B.?”

That was not what you were expecting at all. You thought he was going to ask some deep, personal question - but upon review, you realize this is JJ. The chances of him trying to be deep with you are slim-to-none. “No. No no no no no. No.”

JJ still hasn’t looked at you, and if you didn’t know better, you’d think he was blushing. “JJ, no. There isn’t even a snowball’s chance in hell John B. and I would ever mack on each other.”

He nods, but no eye contact still, so you poke his shoulder playfully. “Hey. No John B. on Y/N macking, I promise.”

He finally looks at you. “Dude, never say ‘John B. on Y/N macking’ in front of me ever again.”

You smile. “Yeah, it grossed me out, too.”

It’s becoming cold out, so you reach forward and pull a blanket over yourself. As you and JJ become a little lost in conversation, you notice that he’s shivering a little, so you take initiative and cover him with some blanket, too.

The first thing you notice is that now you’re accidentally pressed right up against him, and dear god, this is nice.

The second thing you notice is that your heart is pounding quickly. It’s been a lot just being here alone with him, and now you’re cuddling under the stars? Magical.

Your heart nearly leaps into your throat when he wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you closer. Your chest is slamming from your rapid heartbeat, and you think you might actually die right here, right now, and wow, that’s a little Romeo and Juliet of you to die in JJ’s arms, and pretty poetic -

“Y/N.”

“Yeah?” You ask, your voice a little shakier than you’d hoped.

“Chill out a little, okay?”

“Okay.”

No pogues macking on pogues, you think to yourself.

No pogues macking on pogues.

#jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #outer banks #AAAAAAAAAAAAAA i love him #and artist!reader #loves of my life #literally #you send me

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athingthatwantsvirginia · 3 years

Text

hear my stolen lullabies

chapter five of the peter losing wendy series

*inspired by Taylor Swift’s Folklore*

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Original Character (Liz Walker)

Warnings: mentions of parent death and suicide, drug use, emotional/verbal abuse, yelling, PLEASE proceed with caution, smoking

Word Count: 5.6K

Summary: Twice, Liz finds solace at the Chateau during a difficult time.

March 13, 2019

Fiddling with her earring, Liz stared down at her feet as her mother rambled on. Her mother wasn’t exactly screaming, but she was definitely yelling. About how Liz needed to help out more around the house, about how she shouldn’t abandon her mother like her sisters had, about how there was nothing nice left about life. To say it was less than uplifting was an understatement. Liz was beginning to taste blood as she gnawed on her lower lip. After a couple years dealing with her mother’s rage, or her teary outbursts, she had gotten used to tuning it out. Or, at least, trying to. Sometimes, though, it was too loud, too painful, too overwhelming.

“You’re always so fucking mean to me, Elizabeth!” Ruth Walker exclaimed, hands at her sides in exaggeration. “Why can’t you just comfort me? That’s what I need!”

“Comfort you, mom?!” Liz yelled back, finally looking up and tilting her head at her mother. “Jesus, I’ve been comforting you everyday since dad died! Every single fucking day!”

“Excuse me?” Ruth asked, raising her eyebrows. “I’m the mother, and you’re the child! You don’t swear at me!”

Scoffing slightly, Liz shook her head. With her mother staring back at her, brown eyes furious and dark, brows furrowed, Liz couldn’t stomach her anger. As much as she tried to stamp it down, she usually ended with her own tirade creeping up her throat. And the worst part was, she was always wondering if she would one day end up screaming at her own daughter. Full of hypocrisy and bitterness, her life lived entirely different than she wanted. Ruth Walker wasn’t to blame for the way things had turned out, and that Liz scared more than she cared to admit. Her gut churned with anxiety and adrenaline, and she continued despite her better judgement.

“If I’m the child, Mom, why am I the one sleeping in your bed to help you with your nightmares? Why am I the one picking up the milk and the eggs and the bread? And spending every minute of every damn day worrying about you ending up exactly like Dad?” she wagered, pulling out the big guns.

As soon as the words left her mouth, she knew there was no use. They fought about the same things a thousand times over, and neither of them ever changed a bit. But at least letting off some steam might help in the short-term. Liz’s voice was getting louder, and her face redder, as she stood across from her mother in the dingy kitchen. All Liz had wanted was to get a snack to celebrate finishing her essay. Instead, it was an ambush over the leftovers.

“I lost my husband! My life is...my future is ruined!” Ruth screamed, crying through her words.

She knew how insensitive it was, but Liz rolled her eyes. She couldn’t help herself. “Jesus, I know! You think I don’t know that? Your life isn’t ruined, Mom! You’re not the one who died!”

“Sometimes it feels like it,” her mother said, still angry but beginning to deflate. Her energy was waning.

Liz scoffed, feeling completely impatient. Each time they reached this point in the conversation, when her mother would begin to wallow and struggle through her words, Liz would have to sigh, and apologize, and suggest her mother finally go to therapy. The island’s pharmacist, who had once been a therapist, had offered to help the family in the wake of Liz’s father’s suicide. Out of all five Walker women, only Liz had taken him up on the offer. Though she’d only been able to handle about one session a month, Liz was still going. And she knew it helped. But her mother refused to help herself.

“Yeah, well, sometimes it seems like it, too,” Liz muttered, so utterly frustrated she found her filter (which was not particularly strong to begin with) to be totally gone.

Her mother swallowed thickly, but didn’t say a word in response. She only gaped.

Feeling her stomach flip once again, whether due to general anxiety or disgust with herself she didn’t know, Liz turned around and looked out the kitchen window. Bracing herself with her palms on the sink, she looked at the ring stand on the windowsill. On it, her mother’s diamond engagement ring. She had to avert her eyes from it. Before, the ring had been precious, always on her mother’s finger. But Ruth had taken it off after hearing of her husband’s death, and it had sat on the windowsill ever since. Ruth valued it now about as much as a piece of gravel. Liz uttered a harsh, humorless chuckle.

“What an asshole. It wouldn’t be like this if he was still here,” Liz said. “I hate him.”

Ruth’s jaw clenched as Liz turned back to her. “Don’t talk about your father like that!”

“Stop defending him! He fucking lied to us! He was supposed to be there for us...a-and take c-care of us!” Liz argued. “And then he just left! Real fathers don’t do that! At least not the ones who loved their kids!”

“Fuck you!” her mother screamed in response.

Liz recoiled, grey eyes darkening to storms. She gave a thin smile, devoid of joy, and then began to push past her mother. “Yeah, well, fuck you, too.”

She grabbed her bag and tugged on her shoes, then rushed out the front door in the direction of her bike. Ruth stood motionless in the kitchen, watching through the screen door as her daughter rode away. The evening was clouded over and gloomy, the air just beginning to warm with spring. But an involuntary tremble rolled through Ruth’s body as though it were winter. And, when her daughter was gone, she let out a sob. Then, she collapsed in on herself and began to weep.

. . .

A violent shiver made goosebumps rise on Liz’s skin as she finally made it to the Chateau, but her cheeks were flushed hot with adrenaline. The daylight was nearly gone, the sky a cold purple-pink, as she leaned her bike up against the tree out front. The air was filled with spring freshness, but it was chilly. The gray cardigan she wore was proving to be a lifesaver. Crossing her arms over her chest, she stomped up and onto the front porch. She could smell the familiar scent of burnt toast (a telltale sign JJ had tried to cook something, which never ended well) as she approached. And she stopped in her tracks when she saw JJ in the hammock, scrolling absently through his phone. He was freshly showered, dressed in sweats and a t-shirt, hair damp. He looked up when her footsteps halted, eyebrows raised and expectant.

“Hey, red. What’s going on?” he asked, not quite concerned, but certainly not indifferent either.

It was Thursday night, and everyone was busy. Sarah and John B were out getting dinner somewhere on the Figure Eight. Pope was working on scholarship applications. Kie was doing a shift at The Wreck. JJ himself had only gotten off of work an hour earlier, sore from an afternoon spent mowing Kook lawns. Liz had texted in their group chat saying she had a big paper to write, which would probably take her until the sun rose the next morning.

Liz blew out a long breath, feeling the tense energy begin to leave her system. She didn’t feel like crying, though. Not exactly. Instead, she felt used up. Trying her hardest wasn’t working. Wringing her hands together, she felt how dry her skin was. She’d been washing her hands too much, using scalding water, despite the harshness of the early spring cold. The breeze was still parched and unyielding. But she couldn’t seem to stop herself. The habits came and went, ones she felt like needed to be done or else the world would end. They had existed before her father’s death, and she had always been what her mother called ‘a nervous little girl,’ but things had definitely gotten worse in the past couple of years.

“I just…” she began tiredly. Pausing, she sighed and took a seat on the couch, facing him. “I got in a f-fight with my mom.”

“Oh,” he said plainly, nodding. And she could tell he understood. He’d spent probably countless hours listening to her vent about her family’s issues. Just as she had spent hours hearing about JJ’s father. They had developed a pretty symbiotic system. “What was it about?”

She ran a hand over her face, narrowly avoiding her eyes, the makeup from the school day she had yet to wash off. Then, she shrugged. “I don’t know. The same shit, I guess. I told her...it seemed like she was dead now too.”

JJ hummed, nodding as he furrowed his brows. He put his phone down on the floor next to the hammock, forgotten. He waited for her to continue.

“I mean...I guess I meant it. I know that...I know her worst fears came true. I know that. But fuck,” she said, her knee bobbing up and down. The fingers of one hand drummed against her thigh. “I’m just so sick of all this. This would all be so much easier if he had just like...gotten into a car accident or had a brain aneurysm or something.”

He noticed her fidgeting, and he didn’t know whether it was because she was still so keyed up from the fight or if she was just cold. “Probably,” he agreed quietly.

She barely cast him a glance before she continued. “I mean, what was the point in having the funeral, and saying goodbye and all that bullshit, if we were still gonna fight about him and think about him every damn day? It’s like...everything is different except for that one thing. He’s the dead one and he’s like...the only thing left.”

Shaking her head at herself, not even understanding her own words, she clenched her jaw. Looking out into the yard, she could vaguely see the chickens walking around behind the wire of the coop. The chipped red paint of her bike shone dully in the glow of the sunset. Above the bike, the tire swing Big John had put up years earlier still swung, weathered with age. Liz wondered if John B ever felt like she did. Home was still home, but it would also never be home again. Her house felt more like a mausoleum to her than anything else. The life she had lived before was never coming back.

“She kick you out again?” JJ asked.

“Not really,” Liz said. “But I probably shouldn’t go back tonight. I said ‘fuck you’ to her. Like, literally.”

JJ raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“I know,” she said, reading his expression. “But only because she said it to me first. I don’t think I’m ready for round two yet. I’ll take the pullout or something.”

“You want something to take the edge off?” JJ asked, taking his weed pen from his breast pocket and holding it out to her.

She waved her hand dismissively and shook her head again. “No thanks. I just...Jesus I hate this.”

Huffing out a frustrated breath, she got up and slipped through the screen door, into the Chateau. JJ wasn’t surprised a minute later when she reemerged with a battered acoustic guitar in her hands. It had been her father’s in his teen years, and she had been playing since before JJ even met her, when the instrument’s body dwarfed her own and her child’s hands could hardly fit around the neck. She didn’t practice everyday or anything, but could still play songs around the campfire or when the restless energy invaded her body and she needed an outlet for it. Without another word, she began softly strumming out a folk song JJ could almost recognize, but couldn’t remember the name of.

“How was your day?” she asked after a moment, eyes not even on the guitar as she played. It had become a distraction, rather than a passion, since her father had died. Playing it would always be linked with him in her mind. Sometimes, it made her angry that he had ruined yet another thing from the grave. But sometimes, she could tolerate the memories enough to enjoy it again.

“You mean since you saw me like four hours ago?” JJ asked, smirking lightly. Most days, John B drove them both home in the Twinkie, along with Pope.

She nodded, smiling just a little. “Yeah. I’m sure it’s been really exciting.”

“Oh, yeah,” JJ said emphatically. “Honestly, it was a pretty life-changing afternoon.”

“Enlighten me,” Liz said, tilting her head at him.

“Okay, let’s see. I went to the Eight to mow the Westerfields’ lawn. But their kid wouldn’t quit trying to help, so I had to make the lawn mower noises while he used his toy one, and he tired out eventually. Added like two extra hours,” JJ said.

Smiling fondly, Liz nodded for him to continue. A light breeze passed by, blowing her bangs away from her face.

“He’s pretty cute, though. And his mom let me in the house to wash up this time. I got this sick utility tool from the garage when she wasn’t looking,” he said, grin growing with excitement. From the same pocket which housed his pen, he produced a shiny red utility tool, complete with a knife, a screwdriver, and a bottle opener.

She laughed. “What the fuck do you need that for, Maybank?”

“Remember on New Year’s when we couldn’t find the corkscrew so you had to open that wine with a screw and a hammer?”

“One of my proudest moments.”

“Well, next time, we’ll have an extra,” JJ said, putting the tool back. “And I gotta say, I think we should add that house to our list.”

“Really? It’s the yellowish one with the hedges in the front, right?” Liz asked, still plucking at her guitar strings.

JJ nodded.

Since they were kids, they had been considering which houses to move into when they went full Kook. The ‘list’ had never been written down, instead existing as more of a living document in both their minds. There were a few properties on the Eight that were serious contenders, known by the families that lived in them: the Westerfields, the Kitteridges, even the Camerons. Liz was always coming back to the Petries’ place, with the cobblestone path and the tiny pond in the backyard. JJ was partial to the old McKinnon place, with the pristine lawn and the well-kempt dock out back.

“The inside is kickass,” JJ continued. “Like, a TV in every room.”

“Okay, it’s officially added,” Liz said with finality and a little smile.

Before she could continue, she saw JJ yawn into his fist. She noticed the tired glaze in his blue eyes and felt a little bit guilty. She had come over after a long day and bombarded him with all her family shit. She wanted to reciprocate, ask about how things were with his dad and why he hadn’t been back home for at least a week, but she bit her tongue. After so many years knowing JJ, she had learned that he wasn’t going to talk about his family until he wanted to.

She began to play “Polly,” not really singing but humming lowly along with the tune. JJ listened, rocking the hammock slightly. They shared a love for Kurt Cobain, and he always liked it when she played Nirvana for him. Even if he was more partial to the screamo electric songs than their acoustic numbers. As Liz expected, JJ was struggling to keep his eyes open by the time she finished.

“You falling asleep, sunshine?” she asked softly, putting her guitar aside. She would have to make sure she placed it back in the corner of the Chateau’s living room when they went to turn in for the night.

“No,” he said, clearing his throat and blinking harshly a couple times. “Are you kidding? It’s only like eight.”

She shrugged. “You can rest if you want to, JJ. It’s just me.”

“You cold?” he asked, eyes lingering on her hands. They were still a bit shaky, even after she played guitar. Usually, that was enough to make the angry trembling subside.

“Don’t change the subject.”

“Answer the question.”

With a stubborn sigh, she relented. “I mean, a little bit.”

He rolled his eyes. She was always trying to put on a brave face, even over something as small as being cold. Even in front of him. “Yeah, a ‘little bit.’ Okay. C’mon, tough girl, you can steal some of my body heat.”

She snorted a laugh as he opened his arms and gestured for her to come lay down with him. “Okay.”

Her cheeks warmed marginally, but he didn’t mention it if he noticed she was blushing. They were touchy with each other. All the Pogues were. But she and JJ had always been a bit more. Lately, it was getting under her skin, in a good way or a bad way she didn’t know. Each time she felt herself crushing, she reminded herself of the perfect, toned Tourons JJ always brought home after a Kegger. She reminded herself that they had known each other forever, and she shouldn’t ruin anything over a silly, fleeting feeling. Recently, though, there hadn’t been as many girls taken home. And there had been lingering looks and moments between the two of them. But Liz figured she was only imagining it. Otherwise, what was it? The whole thing was too confusing to manage.

But she was cold and he was tired. She didn’t feel up to navigating her thoughts on the subject, so she pushed them out of her mind. And one of the comfiest quilts ever to exist was draped over the back of the couch, too tempting to resist. She grabbed it and then kicked off her shoes before she went over to the hammock. She plopped down next to him, taking a moment to cover the two of them with the blanket and settle in. He winced slightly as her elbow grazed his ribcage.

“Sorry, sunshine. Are you okay?” she asked, instantly concerned, noticing as he hissed in quiet pain.

“Oh, yeah, red,” he said, nodding. “Just got a little too sloppy at the Boneyard last weekend. I fell down on the damn dock. Totally knocked the wind out of me.”

“Do you want me to move? You need to tell me if I’m hurting you,” she continued, a hand placed softly on his chest.

“You’re not,” he replied. “I promise.”

He wrapped his arms around her and brought her head to his shoulder. It seemed to be enough to reassure her, and she let the subject drop. Or maybe she was saving it away for a discussion later on. One thing JJ had learned about Liz in knowing her: her memory was pretty damn close to photographic. She breathed out in content as she finally began to warm up, and her body relaxed.

“Did you finish your paper?” JJ asked, remembering what she should have been doing.

“Yeah. It didn’t take me as long as I thought it would. There’s way too much to say about Virginia Woolf,” Liz explained, letting her legs slip between his, tangling them together. It was the closest they had been in a long time, and she could smell his Old Spice. “It actually ended up being like a page too long. I had to go back and cut it down.”

“Good job, nerd,” he teased. English was the only class she regularly got As in.

“Shut up,” she warned, looking up at him through her lashes and smirking a bit. “Just go to sleep, dick.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said playfully. He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head.

When he pulled back, their eyes met again. Liz didn’t think much. She could only feel what she was doing as she was doing it, a bit surprised at herself. It was like her brain short circuited, flooded with butterflies, and she could only act on instinct.

“JJ?”

“Hm?”

Then, after a moment’s hesitation: “Can we kiss?”

His eyes softened. “‘Course we can, Lizzie.”

Before she knew it, they were both leaning in. They kissed gently, slow. JJ’s lips were surprisingly soft, and he kept a small smile on his face as they separated, dimples on his cheeks. Liz’s brow crinkled. Had that really just happened? When they were both totally sober and not dreaming? She uttered a small hum, nodding.

“Huh,” she said. She had never kissed anyone before, besides Kie. Never a real kiss.

JJ uttered a chuckle. “Yeah. Huh.”

“Are you alright?” Liz asked, a smile to match his own creeping onto her face.

“Mm-hm. Are you alright?” JJ’s voice lilted with nervous, giggly apprehension.

She nodded.

Then, some sort of simple understanding passed between them, smiles still ghosting over their lips. Liz put her head back down on JJ’s shoulder, and his grip tightened on her just a touch. They fell asleep.

. . .

October 27, 2019

Again, Liz was high as a kite by late afternoon. They sat smoking on the front porch of the Chateau after the midday dress burning, laughing at the mock sincerity of the ceremony. For once, Liz was happy and giggly in the presence of Sarah Cameron. JJ grinned widely at Liz opening up a bit. John B was always quick to accuse Liz of not liking Sarah, but JJ knew it was simply that she needed time to soften. Even with all her confidence, she was still shy. She didn’t like to show herself to people until she was positive she could trust them. JJ could definitely understand that. Leaning back against the couch, he threw his arm over the backrest. Liz, sitting beside him because she knew he would hog the bowl otherwise, tensed slightly. Looking around self-consciously, she didn’t think she saw anyone reacting to her flinch. Hopefully, they hadn’t noticed. The instinct to pull away from JJ was knee jerk. With a harsh swallow, she clenched her jaw and sat back slightly, trying to lean into it.

“Yo, did you guys hear that new Billie Eilish single?” JJ asked.

“Oh, I fucking loved it,” Liz said emphatically.

John B snickered. “Well, damn, I never would have guessed.”

She flipped him off, rolling her eyes. “You’re a loser.”

“Ditto, man,” John B replied, a smug smirk on his face.

Liz scoffed through a breathy chuckle. Weed made John B a bit of a condescending asshole, though sometimes in a charming way. Each time it was a toss-up. The day was slightly warmer than the one before, but she suspected it would likely be the last day the temperature was above fifty degrees. The thought of the season ahead made her grimace slightly. It was bad to begin the winter with a death. It was very bad. And, even amidst her group of friends enjoying each others’ company, she couldn’t help but feel far away from them. Distant. Alone. Maybe it was just the after-effects of her grandmother’s funeral the day before. She didn’t know.

She took the bowl back from JJ and inhaled a long breath. She coughed slightly as she let it out, listening to the others talk about something or other, maybe what Kyle McCormick had said to the calculus teacher the day before. She stared out into the front yard. When she was high, all her senses were amplified. The colors seemed brighter somehow. They seemed to move on their own, alive. The only thing close to the sensation that Liz could think of was reading Virginia Woolf. And even then, it was just the character who was experiencing it. Being mesmerized, really mesmerized, wasn’t an everyday thing. It felt like falling in love. She hadn’t felt it much since she and JJ broke up.

She passed the bowl, filled with grayish ashes, back to JJ. They reminded her of her father’s ashes. They’d spread them in the ocean, out on a rental boat. She’d held them in her hands, felt the smooth, sooty fragments of teeth. The thought made her shut her eyes for a second. JJ furrowed his brows, watching her as he took his own drag, trying to get the dregs of smoke from the bowl.

“You okay, Lizzie?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she said, rubbing at her eyes with the heels of her hands. Her cheeks were rosy from the autumn chill. “I just have a headache.”

JJ frowned. He felt her forehead, then put the back of one hand to her cheek. He was relieved to feel the redness was from the chilly wind, not from fever. Every time she got sick, it was because she had been running herself ragged, not sleeping. “Hm. You’re probably still tired from yesterday. You wanna go lay down?”

Clearing her throat, ridding it from the stray smoky feeling, she nodded. “Sure. I’ll take the pullout.”

“Just take JJ’s bed again,” John B said lightly, catching snippets of the conversation.

“Is that alright?” she asked, tilting her head at JJ.

“Yeah. It’s the middle of the afternoon. I won’t be needing it for like eight more hours at least,” JJ answered, trying to pass the bowl to Pope.

Pope waved a hand at the drug paraphernalia. “Maybe you wouldn’t be so tired if you hadn’t smoked, Liz.”

Liz rolled her eyes as she got up from the couch. “Whatever, Doctor Spock.”

“You’re clouding your mental capacity,” Pope continued self-righteously. It didn’t annoy her as much as it once had, since she knew it came from a place of worry. After so long, she was able to shrug it off rather well.

“Good,” Liz retorted, more sincerely than Pope expected.

He shifted nervously, then turned to ask Kie something.

. . .

Slats of sunlight shone on the bed through the gaps in the blinds, making the room feel impossibly cozy. Since Liz had slept in there the night before, she had made the bed. It wasn’t really a cleanliness issue. She could have a perfectly neat bed and then not cast a second glance at the piles of books and clothes, and papers in the case of her desk. It was more that if she didn’t make her bed everyday, it made her want to wash her hands more, with hotter water. It made her want to pick off her nail polish and gnaw on her bottom lip. But she found herself feeling totally content as she laid on the bed, atop the fuzzy throw and the smooth comforter, piles stacked properly behind her. She rested her head on her crossed arms, the sleeve of her worn cardigan soft against her cheek. Her sock feet were raised in the air, one calf crossed over the other. She thought about the morning, when she had woken up with JJ’s arm draped over her. It had been the first time she had anxiously made the bed in JJ’s room in a long time. It had been so familiar that it broke her heart a bit. It broke her heart more when JJ had excitedly begun preparing for the dress burning almost immediately after waking up.

Over breakfast, he had enthusiastically gone over everyone’s duties to put together the “funeral for Lizzie’s funeral dress.” She smiled at him gratefully, but her heart wasn’t in it. She couldn’t reconcile the JJ who took care of her after tragedy with the one she had encountered on the last night in August. She thought about the feel of his hand on her waist, dancing with her in the Stoner’s Grove at a party, the warmth of his skin seeping through the thin fabric of her dress. They hadn't kissed, so they could explain it away if anyone asked. That had been before the invisible change had taken place. And she could feel it again where his hand had rested earlier in the day, when they had stood around a bonfire in the backyard, while the remains of her dress smoked in the air and then floated away. She had stared into the orangey flames, so strangely pure against the pristine blue of the October sky, until her eyes were hot and dry. JJ had placed an affectionate hand on her waist for only a moment, giving her hip a comforting squeeze. And she simply didn’t know what to do with it.

But she decided to clear the thoughts of him from her head, running her fingers delicately over the soft throw blanket. Touch, she thought to herself. Touch was her favorite of the senses when she was high. Her feet were up near the head of the bed, her head at the bottom. She had often laid in the same position, feet up in the air, as a little girl. She and John B had made a habit of going out to the edge of the dock and looking down at their reflections in the water, sometimes with their heads leaning completely over the green murkiness below. It was the kind of childhood foolishness you could only see the error in with hindsight. She let herself get lost in the music which played from the bluetooth speaker on the desk. She had turned it down to a medium volume, hoping she could get one of her mellower playlists to lull her to sleep. But the sunshine was too beautiful to miss. She let it warm her back as she laid there, listening to the sound of The 1975’s “Be My Mistake.” Sometimes, it was too sad for her to stomach. When high, though, she could stand it enough to listen. She barely even welled up this time.

The screen door slammed shut, and she could hear the rest of the Pogues reenter the house, likely to finish up whatever homework or enjoy the remnants of the Sunday afternoon. The sound of JJ’s boots approached, and Liz had to prepare herself for a moment before he came in. She didn’t know what instinct she would follow: the softening of her heart or the guarding of her gaze.

He opened the door with a warm creak, smirking when he saw she was still awake, from the way her feet swung side-to-side gently. “Hey.”

“Hi,” she replied huskily.

He shut the door behind him and bent over to unlace his boots. He tugged them off and discarded them in the corner absently before he came to sit down next to her on the bed.

“I was just coming to get my earth science homework, but I guess you don’t need quiet like I thought.”

She hummed in acknowledgement, lost in the song.

“You still wanna go to sleep?” he asked.

She may have had a pretty high tolerance, but she had smoked more of the good shit, and it was likely heightened in effect when she was so sleep-deprived. He was surely the more sober one of the two. The gut instinct to hold her hair back, rub circles on her skin, guide her sweetly through her intoxication, overtook him as it had so many times in the past. But he wasn’t her boyfriend, as she had pointed out one morning after he had fought a Touron. And it wasn’t his job to take care of her, no matter how much he wanted it to be.

“No,” she said softly. Her words came out in a pensive whisper. “I’m just having a nice time listening to the music.”

He snorted a laugh. “You’re so adorable.”

“You can’t say shit like that to me, JJ,” she said immediately, though still in that same gentle tone. Raising her head a bit, she met his slightly glassy, reddish gaze with her own to match.

He shut his mouth and averted his eyes, nodding. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to-”

“I know,” she said. “You just can’t.”

“Yeah,” he agreed.

Then after a moment, she asked: “Do you still wanna hang out?”

He smiled. “Yeah. ‘Course.”

“Alright,” she said, putting her head back down.

JJ got more comfortable, back resting against the wall behind the bed, getting ready to listen to her playlist. Liz’s playlists were, in fact, pretty infamous amongst their group of friends. When she couldn’t afford presents for birthdays or holidays, she made them playlists.

“So, since you’re in earth science, tell me again why they declassified Pluto as a planet?” she asked. “I mean, I know it doesn’t have emotions or anything, but imagine being a planet and having your planet status taken away from you. I feel bad for it, y’know?”

JJ laughed.

#outer banks #jj maybank #jj maybank x oc #jj maybank oc fanfiction #outer banks x oc #outer banks oc fanfiction #outer banks au #outer banks au fanfiction #john b routledge #kiara carrera #pope heyward #sarah cameron

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dreaming-of-assclass · 3 years

Note

Hi Zaina UwU may I request “It is so awkward having a crush on a [coworker/classmate].”

With Kimura/Okano being annoying tsunderes for the lols :eyes:

Please make it as crack as possible thank you love you bestie <3

omg I love this 😂 ofc bestie 💕💕

Word count: 1,589 words

“Can you just move over?” Okano growled, trying her absolute hardest to resist the urge to shove her comrade over. Hard.

Kimura glanced at her, clearly annoyed. “Um, can you just shut up?” He made no effort to scoot aside on the bench.

She gave up and threw her arms in the air. “Ugh, I don’t even know why I bother! You’re the worst.”

He stuck his tongue out. “Back atcha.”

Okano defeatedly retreated to the grass, a few meters away. She sat down besides her friends, trying and failing to fight back the heat rushing to her cheeks. “I hate him,” she said sourly.

Maehara looked up at her from his phone. “Mm-hmm.”

“What the hell do you mean by that?!”

“What?” he asked innocently.

Okano eyed him. “You said ‘mm-hmm’,” she replied, imitating his voice.

“Ah. Well, I didn’t mean anything by it.”

Kurahashi shoved him gently. “Stop lying to her, Maehara-kun. Yes, you did.”

“What?” Okano’s eyes narrowed.

Maehara pursed his lips, making a hum sound before inhaling. “You and Kimura obviously like each other.”

WHAT??????????

“Wha-” She instantly kicked him in the shin, earning a choked groan from the soccer player. “GROSS! That’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever said! There’s no way I’d ever like that booger-looking ass gremlin.”

Kurahashi just looked at her, a patient yet conniving sweet smile on her lips. “Then...why are you blushing?”

Okano’s eyes widened in horror at her reflection off of the sunglasses that sat on the grass by them. Oh no...I AM blushing...

No, no, no, no, no, NO!

Without another word, she whirled around and dashed away, her face still heated up.

Unlike his short-tempered partner, Kimura had already accepted his feelings. He disliked them immensely, but knew there wasn’t much anything he could do.

He’d tried focusing his attention on Kurahashi, to no avail. He’d tried avoiding Okano at every moment possible, but it was hard when they were PE partners and in the same friend group. He also sat behind her...

And now, he’d decided the best course of action was simple. Just be an annoying asshole to Okano. There’s no way he could feel attraction to her if she was yelling at him or kicking the shit out of him.

Or so he thought...

“Urghhh!” He groaned, covering his face with his arms. “Of all the girls in the world, why do I like you?!”

He knew why.

Okano was his partner, his classmate, his friend, and his rival all in one person. Their bond had been building over so much in the past year. No matter how much they bickered, they’d always have each other’s backs.

“Having relationship troubles?” A familiar voice caught his attention and Kimura quickly snapped up in surprise. A very smug Maehara stood by, leaning against a tree with his arms crossed.

“What the fuck-how long have you been there?!”

The soccer player casually examined his nails. “Oh, long enough to hear all your woes.”

Kimura groaned. “Dude why are you so creepy and overdramatic? You seriously stood by that tree, waiting for me to say that.”

“I’m being helpful!” Maehara whined. “Now tell me what’s wrong!”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Kimura replied quickly.

“Bullshit. Now have a seat and spill everything to me, child.”

Kimura relented and awkwardly lowered himself to the ground, sitting cross-legged near Maehara, who did the same.

“Fine...” Kimura sighed. “I don’t-I guess it’s just really...weird liking the person I like.”

Maehara hummed, stroking his chin. “And who would that be?”

He glared at him. “You already know, dude.”

“I do not.” He lied.

Kimura rolled his eyes. “It’s Okano. I like Okano, okay?”

“Ah...I see...” Maehara drawled, irking Kimura more and more by the second. “And what exactly is making this hard for you?”

“It’s just so awkward having a crush on a classmate.”

Maehara raised an eyebrow, thankfully dropping the psychologist front for a moment. “Uh, no it’s not. That’s where 95% of teenagers get their crushes, man.”

Kimura spluttered. “Okay, fair. But she’s my classmate, friend, partner, and rival all in one person. I’ve always seen Okano like a bro, but now I like her?”

“Hmm yeah that’s one predicament you’ve got, my friend,” Maehara agreed, running a hand through his hair. “But I know Okano, and the best way you can approach this is just being upfront. Tell her how you feel, be straightforward!”

Kimura eyed him suspiciously. “Will that really work? She might just kick the shit out of me...”

His friend waved him off. “Trust me.”

And so Kimura did.

“Uh, thanks for walking home with me,” Okano said awkwardly, adjusting the hold on her bag.

You idiot, you probably sound like a weirdo! She screamed internally. But she just wanted to say something to break the silence that had been resting between them for the past five minutes.

Kimura was walking a few feet behind her, his figure lax as his hands rested behind his head in a way that reminded her strongly of Karma. Huh. Maybe chuunis really do rub off on each other, she thought wryly.

“No problem,” Kimura replied, sounding a bit distracted. “I have to stop by the convenience store on my way, anyways. And I know you usually ride your bike so you’re not used to walking alone.”

“Yeah,” she laughed lightly. “That’s true.”

Silence stretched between them once again, but to Okano’s relief, it was more comfortable this time. Some of the old familiarity in their dynamic had returned, as Kimura stuck his tongue out at her playfully when she looked back at him.

They continued walking until they reached the bridge, surrounded by the noise of cars rushing past them. Okano looked to her left and admired the way the sunset reflected off the water, making it a lovely orange-pink hue. If she was artistic in anyway, she would’ve loved to re-create the image somehow.

“Okano,” Kimura suddenly said, catching her attention. She had to strain a bit to hear it, given the wind swirling past her from the traffic.

“What?” She replied, raising her voice slightly as she turned around to face him.

Kimura, for some reason, was standing a few meters away from her, the colors of the sky lighting up his face. “Okano, I-” Whatever he said next was drowned out by the cars.

“What?” Okano called back, furrowing her eyebrows.

“I said I-” Interrupted again, this time by a particularly large oil truck passing by.

“What? I can’t hear you!”

He opened his mouth again but she made out no words.

“What the hell are you saying?!” She shouted.

“OH MY FUCKING GOD, I SAID I LIKE YOU!” He screamed back, and she finally heard him.

Oh. So that’s what he was trying to say.

Oh.

Oh crap.

Okano’s brain froze for a moment as it caught up to her. Then all the blood in her body quickly rushed to her brain, and her face felt like a furnace. “You...what?” she asked in disbelief.

Kimura let out a sharp breath. “I have a crush on you. Okay?”

Oh my god.

She stayed absolutely still, processing it. “Okay...”

Kimura’s eye twitched and he marched right up to her. “Hello? Are you even gonna reply? I just confessed to you, idiot.” He punctuated his words with a flick to her forehead.

She grabbed his wrist, her reflexes acting immediately. “Back off, stupid! I heard you loud and clear,” she muttered annoyedly.

“So? What’s your answer?” His voice turned slightly whiny, sounding almost anxious. He tried to yank his hand back but Okano kept a firm grip on it.

“My answer...” she started lowly, eyeing him. “Is that I like you too.”

A few seconds passed as Kimura froze, his eyes wide.

“Hello? Are you gonna reply? I just admitted my feelings for you, idiot,” Okano imitated his voice as she repeated his words.

He seemed to snap back to reality as his eyes met hers. “Are you being for real? Like this isn’t a joke?”

Okano scoffed, finally releasing his hand. “No, dumbass. It’s not a joke. I like you,” she said slowly.

“Oh...” He averted his gaze, running a hand through his hair sheepishly. “Cool.”

She rolled her eyes, punching his arm lightly. “Cool? Man, you’re so bad at this romance stuff. Who confesses in the middle of a busy highway section?”

“Okay WOW. To be fair, I thought the sunset and water made it romantic enough.”

Okano laughed. “How was I even supposed to hear you properly?”

“You eventually did!” He retorted and joined her so both of them were laughing together.

As it died down, Okano leaned against the railing, smiling at the sunset that was burning away into embers as night was soon to approach. “Man...we’re probably gonna be one weird ass couple.”

He joined her, dropping his bag to the ground lightly. “Speak for yourself, weirdo.”

She chuckled. “Korosensei is gonna lose his shit.”

“Maehara too,” Kimura agreed. “Hmm though, he wasn’t a half-bad wingman, I guess.”

Okano turned to him in disbelief. “You took Maehara’s love advice? He of all people really told you to confess on a busy loud bridge?” she snorted.

“Ah no...I took creative liberties on that one,” Kimura admitted, his face slightly pink.

Okano laughed and looked up. “It’s getting dark. We should get back now.”

“Yeah...” Kimura glanced at the time on his phone before picking up his bag again. “Wanna hold hands?” He asked sarcastically with a grin.

“Hold my hand and I’ll throw you over this bridge.”

#assclass #ansatsu kyoushitsu #assassination classsroom #hinata okano #justice kimura #writing #im not very good at crack lmao but i tried my best #maehara as a wingman is so funny to me shjsafsdksa

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