#he said it while laughing so im sure its meant as a joke rib not an insult but i HOWLED | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mxvladdy · 3 years

Note

heyy i just read your fic Case of the Munchies on ao3 and im Loving it!!!! its amazing!! i was wonder if youre accepting requests and if you haven’t done it could you write the same for the rest: mammon, levi, satan, belphi, dia, barbatos and smth for simeon and luke (ofc platonic) like how angles have a true form and that means they can never relax around mc and how solomon has so much power at his fingertips he can just snap and end them or smth like that? pretty please and thank you!!!!

A/N: Of Course! Of Course! I already did Mammon and Levi HERE so I’ll do the other four in this request! You sent me a lot of good ideas and I’ll sprinkle them out into other requests soon!

Hope you like it!!

Case of the Munchies prt 3!

Word Count: 4.2k

Characters: Satan, Belphie, Diavolo, Barbatos

TW: Mentions of eating and cook humans, very mild gore

Satan

As the only full-blooded demon of the seven, he has thought about it...just hypothetically of course. When you were new to the Devildom he did find your scent more appetizing than the others. It’s a good thing he has the most restraint and control of all his kin, especially when it comes to his more base urges.

He doesn’t hide this knowledge from you. It’s readily available in the library and his own room in the history books. He just won’t bring it up. So if you don’t say anything, he won’t either. What would he say anyway? “Yes, I’ve thought about it, up until it was outlawed it was a staple of our diet after all…” Ye, probably not the best thing to say.

When you finally brought it up he was exasperated. Did you have to bring it up during the few hours he had alone with himself? He wasn’t going to lie but the thought of hurting your feelings would just about do him in.

He will alleviate your worries if you have any. If Satan was anything, he was genuine.

Mini Fic

His wine curdles in his stomach, turning sour along with the take-out he had nabbed for the two of you to enjoy tonight. Drinks and dinner were becoming a staple in your T.V. night tradition. If one of you had had a rough day you would drop by your favorite shop of the hour and pick up a meal to share while you vent.

Today in particular had been a shit day for him. Failed experiment after failed experiment, and one bottle that didn’t explode on impact with the potion he dropped. Sigh. At least your comforting words soothed his wounded pride a little. You chuckle at his escapades glad to see he is not hurt at least. It was nice to have someone to see the humor in something that normally would have dampened his mood.

“You’re a pest.” He laughs at you while snapping his takeout chopsticks in half to use. “I need sympathy-hours of work wasted.” You snort into your own bowl of udon.

“You need words of praise like Beel needs another stomach.” Satan gasps in mock insult pointing a sauce stained chopstick at you.

“How dare you insult your host! After I toiled over this meal of-” What did he get exactly? Honestly, when he placed the order he was near boiling with rage at his careless fumble. It was to be a surprise for you, something to give you a bit of magic while supervised by himself. He knew how frustrated you were with your lack of magical ability in class so he wanted to gift you something grand. Now he has to wait months to try again.

Ah, well...nothing ventured nothing gained as they say.

You watch him sulk over his soup dumplings, his mile away from the comfort of your company and his room. “Come on blondie.” You poke him with your foot before burying them under his pajama-clad thighs on the couch. “Eat your ‘hard earned’ meal before I do.” You snatch up his D.D.D forgetting your own food for a moment to set up your favorite streaming service to cast to his small T.V. “Want to watch a bunch of humans fail miserably at baking?”

"I thought you would never ask."

Satan feels you stiffen in his arms two hours into your bake-off marathon. Your takeout boxes are cold and forgotten on his coffee table, a bottle of wine gone between the two of you. He glances down at you curious.

You were transfixed on the screen. The novice baker on screen was struggling to keep his monstrosity of a cake upright. It was the annual Halloween episode and this fool went for a Silence of the Lambs inspired cake. A good concept really, but very poorly executed. The fake body parts and sugar blood weighted the pastry down dangerously. If he were, to be frank, the cake was also tacky as hell. Heh, he'd have to try to make this for Lucifer.

"Does his abuse of the piping gun offend you that much?" He jokes wrapping an arm around you.

Your laugh is breathy and lacks its usual warmth. "It is excessive isn't it?" You look up at him. "Hey, Satan-have you ever eaten people before?"

"Uhh…" Great, how eloquent. This came out of nowhere, did Lucifer set you up to this? No-no you wouldn’t. Would you hate him if you knew? “I have.” He admits through clenched teeth waiting for your reaction.

“Didn’t Diavolo ban it?” He can tell you are doing the mental math in your head.

He chuckles dryly. “Well, you never asked if I did it legally.” You move away from his touch and pause the show. “I mean...I did it legally! ” His mouth runs freely, his brain screaming at him to shut up.

“Satan.” You cross your arms unimpressed.

“It was a new law and I never meant to eat it for the most part. It was at a time where I was still struggling to control myself.” Young and stupid as Lucifer had said defending him every step of the way when he would slip up. Was it sold on the black market now? Yes. Did he know how to get it? Sure, but he would never nor would he tell you about it either.

You nod thinking about his words. “I can empathize.” Oh, thank the Devil. “Have you thought of eating me?”Ahhh. “Oh my God, you have.” You chuck a pillow at him with a laugh.

He catches the pillow and clutches it to his fiery hot face. “Everyone did at first!” If he was going down then he was going to take every one of his brothers down with him. “I wasn’t going to act on it! It was a spur of the moment-why are you laughing!”

“Sorry, sorry.” You wipe at the tears in your eyes wishing you had your phone to take a picture of his blushing face. “I kind of figured you did.”

Satan looks at you incredulously. “Shouldn’t you be a bit more torn up over this?”

You shrug. “After everything we’ve been through? I admit it was a shock to think at first but I mean, you would have done it by now right?”

“Well, thank you?” He flops back on the couch, still clutching the pillow to act as a barrier between you two. He’ll take it as a compliment.

You scoot close, nudging his knee with yours. “You ok?” He nods. “Can I touch you?” He nods again eagerly. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and squeeze. “Sorry, I made you uncomfortable.”

Satan chuckled, dropping the pillow to hug you back. “It’s ok.” He peaks your forehead. “Now, with that out of the way. Shall we finish this?” He swipes up his phone to hit play. You nod, flinging your legs over him to snuggle closer. “Good, I’m dying to know how he tries to save that thing. I’m putting money on icing.”

“You know.” You break the silence once more, unable to stop yourself. “I wouldn’t be opposed to being eaten...in some ways.”

Belphegor

After your first *ahem* encounter, he doesn’t bring up the whole food thing. He is afraid that if you learned about it, it would be the last strike for you and his relationship. Perhaps it’s paranoia on his part but better safe than sorry.

In all honesty, he didn’t eat it that much anyway. Killing humans was something he did often in his youth as a demon. A stupid attempt at revenge on his part. It filled the holes in his hearts to hurt those he believed killed his sister.

But to eat their flesh? Disgusting. He tried it a few times and it turned his stomach with every mouthful. He just hated them too much to even stomach them. He’s mellowed out with time but still never got a taste for it.

When you asked it was a shock but welcomed in a way. Like he could finally get this weight off his shoulders every time he looked at you.

Mini Fic

“It’s gross.” Belphie yawns, jumping up to sit on the high garden wall. He bends down to help you up placing you gently next to himself. The wind catches you by surprise threatening to topple you back from the wall before he rights you. He tosses his sweater over you with a nod of satisfaction.

You snuggle into the fleece lining burying your nose into the fabric. It smelled of elderberries and honeysuckles. Belphie watches you curl up into his side with a fond smile. “Seriously, you all are nasty.”

“Ouch!” You push his shoulder with a grin. “I feel like I should be offended on behalf of all humans.”

Belphie snorts, looking up into the bright colors of the night sky. “Good. Be offended. You, humans, are slimy.” You squawk indignantly. “It’s true, never in all my years would I willingly ingest it.” He shudders theatrically.

“Rude.”

“Shouldn’t you be happy? Lest I eat you?” He growls playfully, taking a swipe at you. He pulls you close to kiss the pout off your face. He stops only when your face is hot and your smile threatens to pull a muscle. “I’ll keep you safe, always.” He vows resting his chin on your head.

“Do you think other demons would try to eat me?”

“Have you met my twin?” He teases. He takes your jab to his ribs with a smile. “But if one of those lesser demons even tries to breathe in your direction I’ll kill them.”

“Ok, Mister sleeps till dinner.” You joke. His vow warms your heart a little, chasing away the small bit of fear that had rested itself in your chest. You saw how some demons looked at you at R.A.D, the longing and hungry looks got to be a bit much sometimes. A few older demons would discuss it loudly when they knew you were close by. Apparently, it was a long standing tradition of demons eating humans both body and soul when a pact was concluded.

Imagine what those brothers would do to them…

You shake your head hugging Belphie closer. You had nothing but his word that he would keep you safe, yet that was enough for you. Besides, he wasn’t one to follow the rules even at the best of times.

“I’m serious. You're off limits for everyone.”

You nod into his shirt, closing your eyes to enjoy the peace of the moment. “I’ll hold you to it.”

Diavolo

It is so far from his mind that when you say something it is like a rug was taken out from under him. He could be diplomatic about it, but you deserve better than a half-truth.

He was a wild child in his youth. Sometimes he would overindulge in his father’s heritage and gorge himself on his newfound powers and privilege. He would dine with the elders and eat with abandon under their proud eyes.

He regrets it now, in your company it brings up a slurry of emotions. Sometimes when he looks at you he sees flashes of his past behavior.

The urge is stronger in him than the brothers, a constant nagging tug in his guts, but he is strong. Stronger both in willpower and sheer physical prowess than them so the pull is more of an annoyance than a burning need. He can temper the hunger in other ways if need be *wink*

He fears what you might think of him if you ever found out the truth, but however you take it he will handle it in stride. He loves you too much not to.

Mini Fic

Dinners, when Diavolo could eat alone, were a rare and special treat. The solace of just being allowed to exist without constantly checking his posture or presentation was a blessing, just him, his thoughts, and a good meal. It was nice to have no paperwork to worry about staining this time or a tedious meeting where he couldn’t savor his meal. No, no this was good. He looks down at his heavily laden plate and smiles. Well, almost… Pulling out his phone he snaps a quick picture and sends it to you with a simple question. Join me?

Private meals were wonderful, but with you, they were perfect.

You arrive faster than he expected, flushed face and clutching a stitch in your side from rushing over. He almost felt bad before he saw the eager look in your eyes. Barbatos helps you with your school bags and coat before placing another plate of food across from the young lord. He winks at the prince before disappearing back through the door.

“Thank you for the invite!” You beam taking your seat across from him. “I hope you don’t mind that I'm not dressed for the occasion. I was just wrapping up a study session with the boys.” You look down at your rumpled lounge clothes.

Diavolo waved his hand disregarding your concerns. “I would emulate you if I had the time.” He looks at his own pressed school uniform. He had another meeting this evening, much to his distaste. “You look rather comfortable.” You smile in delight before tucking into your own plate.

You eat in a comfortable silence reading the room well enough to tell that he wished for some company but not needless chitter-chatter. Barbatos arrived moments after you put your fork down and left with the plate leaving behind a delicious smelling hot drink. You couldn’t put your finger on the flavor but it tastes spicy like cinnamon and coats your throat like warm honey.

Whatever was in the drink seemed to work some magic on the prince. His shoulder droop, his back sinking into the chair as his legs stretch out till they are close to brushing against yours. He starts talking over the drink, eyes slowly lighting up with delight. You drink, nodding along with him as he builds up steam. It was nice to see him so unguarded and light. You listen to him talk about simple innocent topics. You knew how he tried to have these conversations with the others to no avail. The brother’s always tried to stay clear of him, and Lucifer simply dismissed these things most days. Barbatos and the angels were a bit better but still listened mostly to placate him.

“Ah!” Diavolo stops mid-sentence as his door opens once more Barbatos holding a small platter in his gloved hand. Dia claps his hands in delight. “I’ve been wanting to have you try this with me for forever. The human palate is so different, but I hope this is tasty.”

“What is it?” You eye the covered plate curiously.

Dia says a word in infernal. It is harsh and guttural in his throat but his delight was evident in his tone. “It is like...a roasted nut? Sorry, it is difficult to explain but it has been a favorite treat of mine since I was a boy. I hope you like it too.” He opens the lid with little ceremony and tilts the bowl to you. Inside were several golfball sized pods piled on top of each other. Even from across the table you could feel the molten heat radiating from the porous black shell. It looked...ugly. Like a hunk of dried lava. You eye it suspiciously as Diavolo picks one up with his bare hands and bits it. The shell cracks under his sharp teeth, a fang catching in a weak spot with a noise that makes you shiver. Underneath the thick casing, you could see a dark red and fleshy core. He hums in delight pulling put the meat of the seed and discard the shell pieces onto an empty plate. He makes quick work of the innards already reaching for another by the time you casually pick up a seed.

The seed itself was dense and warm to the touch. You squeeze it, noting that the porous coating felt like a mass of steel in your hand. “Dia-how do I open it?” No way you could bite it, not without breaking your jaw in the process.

“Allow me.” He takes it from you and effortlessly cracks it. “It is a tradition to break them with teeth, instead of hands or utensils. Something about a show of strength. I just find it fun.” He shrugs, handing you the broken seed.

“Fun!” You marvel at his pearly fangs. “Those are some big chompers.”

“All the better to eat you with my dear.” He chuckles.

You blink in shock, eyes widening. “Would you? Eat me?”

Diavolo’s smile drops. “No.” He lies on reflex, his political nature kicking in. “No-no wait.” He shakes his head. “I...at a time would have without hesitation.” He feels you recoil. “It was common practice back in the day. To the common demon it was a great meal and for the ruling class a show. He looks down at the broken fragments of shell on his plate. Breaking the shell was far too reminiscent of other things. He squashes the unwanted wave of memories coming up. Instead, he looks up at you.

You sit quietly mulling over his words. You haven’t run yet. “Why did you stop?”

He leans back with a loud exhale. Why did he stop? There were many reasons, none he wished to divulge into at the moment, but he had to say something. “I grew up, and began to resent and regret it.” He used to read human stories of demons and his kind. They hurt their characterizations of him and his people. Yet, they had all been scarily accurate. He wanted to prove that they weren’t stagnating beasts, slaves to their desires. Even if it wasn't a popular opinion.

“I see.” You pick up the seed again. “Thank you for telling me. You didn’t have to.”

“But I wanted to, and to apologize… such admissions must have ruined your appetite. If you wish to retire-”

“Is it weird if it didn’t?” You cut him off. You felt-not apathetic to the knowledge but close to it. It confirmed a lot of things for you and put certain things in perspective. You still felt safe with him even with this new bit of knowledge. Without a second thought, you pop the treat into your mouth. You gasp in delight. The flavor and texture were not what you were expecting, but was delicious all the same. “Can you open another for me?” You push your plate over to him.

“Of course!”

The food was as wonderful as his company.

Barbatos

You knew he cooked it. He probably knows a million different ways to prepare a human. He is also very blunt about his dabblings in the market.

He doesn’t eat it, hasn’t ever. He sees no reason to, especially since he doesn’t need to eat anyway there is no temptation. He did find the meals he created beautiful though.

Once he lived for the praises of the courts and his young lord. He was a master at all mediums he cared to work with. Time, decorum, or of the flesh.

He is 100% unashamed of his past with the dark side of the Devildom’s history. In fact, he is damn near proud of it. He is a demon and it was a part of his life, if that frightens you, well there is nothing he can do about it.

He’ll entertain your questions and will try to put any lingering worries at ease. Just don’t expect to be coddled when he does.

Mini Fic

Barbatos had very few personal pleasures in his life. His schedule simply didn’t have the space for such things. So why even bother looking for a pastime. It wasn’t until Diavolo gifted him with an old worn cookbook did he find it.

Cooking was a necessity for his prince, but with that little book, it became something he looked forward to doing. Slowly, he began to seek them out, filling his growing quarters with cookbooks and loose-leaf slips of paper. He enjoys reading them. Each book was a little time capsule into the cook's life and memories. Could a mix of spices really remind someone of the arid heat of their motherland? Or does following a certain way of aging meat really honor the writer's late grandfather’s memory? He tries them all, each recipe a little invasion to a happier time.

He wrote his fair share of cookbooks too in his day. Simple modifications to things the young lord liked to the odd machinations of his own imagination. He got good at experimenting with flavors and textures over the years, mastering certain cooking techniques and flavors just for fun. He didn’t share many of them, a lot of his recipes were just too complicated for most. Luke was allowed to look at his pastry books only. The little cherub was enamored with his techniques and wanted to learn as much as he could in the short amount of time he was in the Devildom. Admirable, but he made sure to keep some of his...less savory books away from the boy. He shudders to think what Simeon would do if he scarred the young angel.

You are the only one who has full access to his collections. Whether you liked to cook was inconsequential to him. He simply enjoyed sharing this interest with you. Some nights you would take it upon yourself to be his “sous-chef”. Which meant you sat in the corner of the kitchen and read out the ingredients and steps for a recipe he knew by heart. Sometimes you would add in extra steps in an attempt to stump it. Cute...but ultimately failed each time. So, most nights when you tagged along to the kitchens you just flip through his collection, reading his immaculate scribblings crammed into the corners of the pages or where he scratched out certain ingredients for more demon-appropriate foods and more sustainable options.

You had gone through many beautiful books before you found it. The cookbook was small and inconspicuous compared to most. Just a simple black cover with a well-worn spine. What made you take notice of it was just how dusty it was. That wasn’t like him to do. Barbatos would never let something get so dirty. You wished you never had opened it. You weren’t stupid by any means, but after reading a few pretty graphic recipes it had unsettled you. So you withdrew from Barbatos trying to forget about the book tucked away deep in the bowels of your school bag.

“You’ve been distant.” You choke, hand flying up to your chest as you swear your heart skipped a beat. Damn demon. Should put a bell on him. “What’s wrong?” His eyes are piercing, cutting away at your feeble defenses.

“Nothing…” You fiddle with your bag’s strap. Your eyes drop to the floor taking in the differences between his polished shoes and your scuffed boots.

“Of course not…” You could hear the skepticism in his voice. “I trust that if there was something wrong you would feel safe enough to confide in me.” His words hit like a ton of bricks on your shoulders. He sighs seeing that his words got no reaction. “Please?”

Wordlessly you rummage in your bag and thrust the book into his chest. “Sorry. It shook me up more than I thought it would.”

Ah. He knew this book all too well. For a time it had been his favorite, one to pull out with Diavolo had guests or a deal that needed to be sealed. He accepts the book, noting how much your hands shook. “I understand.” He slips the book into his breast pocket making a mental note to hide it in one of his lesser used rooms. “Would you like to discuss this? In my room perhaps?” You follow with a timid nod.

“Where shall we begin?” Barbatos asks the moment he closes the door to his room.

“You don’t seem perturbed.” You frown. Barbatos shrugs, pulling the book out and opening it. He had a lot of good memories stored here. Some of these were still considered signature dishes, oftentimes a visiting dignitary would lament to him about the good old days when he could show off his craft when flesh was plentiful. He takes pride in that still to this day even. For as much as he loved you, he would not be ashamed of this.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” You shake your head when he says as much. “It just confused me. Do-do you see me as food?”

“I never saw humans as food, no more than I see demons or angels as it.” He picks at an imaginary bit of lent from his pant leg. “As for seeing you as food no. No matter how sweet your lips are, or how honeyed your words can be.” He smiles, taking impish delight in your squirming. “I merely did my job as a butler for my lord.”

“Oh- sorry for not coming to you sooner.” You felt foolish now. Barbatos waves it off, pleased to have this issue put aside so quickly and cleanly. “Wait-" You gasp as his words finally sink in. “Have you prepared angels before?”

He flashes you a mischievous smile putting a single finger up to his lips. “Perhaps~ do you wish to read that too?”

#obey me #om satan #om belphegor #om diavolo #om barbatos #fun request!

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impossible-rat-babies · 3 years

Note

What about 45 for pollux and ortega 👀

45. comparing hand sizes, then linking fingers together

thank you tas i know im showing up late for this prompt, but better late than never right? lmao

fallen hero | ~1.5k words | m!ortega + nb!sidstep | cw: very mild mentions of nsft | mostly below the cut!

ao3

Pollux sinks lower into the bath water and, for the first time in a long while, it’s quiet.

The faucet still drips, ripples spreading out until they hit his knees and they sink beneath the water--distorted and unclear. The next drop ripples until the waves are too small and they sink beneath the surface of the water. Holding as still as possible and the top of the water turns to glass--white tiled walls of the shower shining in the warm white overhead light. Steam flutters around it in swirling little clouds like cigarette smoke.

Sinking further, his nose almost rests against the surface of the water and it smells of oatmeal and lavender. His eyes slowly close, back relaxing in a cascade down his spine and into his hips. A domino effect until he’s almost too lazy to move and it’s easier to breathe.

The porcelain of the tub holds the warmth against his body, the water perhaps too hot but he likes it when his skin turns flush red and he can hold onto that warmth for hours. He lifts his hands out of the water, the backs of them almost red enough to eclipse the scars and the recent rough angry cracked lines of eczema across his wrists. He frowns.

“Don’t pick at it, Pollux...”

His eyes dart over to Ortega, sitting opposite him beside the tub, arm propped up on the edge. Thumbnail picking a callous on his index finger, white shirt mostly unbuttoned--feet bare, legs stretched out. It’s lazy how he pesters, but his gaze is pointed at Pollux’s fingers curled to scratch.

“I wasn’t going to.”

Pollux sits up, water dripping off his scratchy unshaven chin as his hands disappear beneath the water. Out of sight, Pollux picks a hangnail on his middle finger, circles the little grooves his rings have left. They’re all sitting up on the vanity, carefully pulled from his fingers by Ortega with the excuse they’ll be ruined in the water.

“You looked like you were thinking about it.”

Ortega adjusts, leaning over and his back hunches, shoulders bunched.

“I was just looking.”

Pollux insists, but there’s no fight behind his voice, just tired apathy. He doesn’t have the gumption or the initiative to bicker right now, tucking his hands under his legs and he bends his knobby knees to peek out of the water. Ortega gives a tired sigh, seemingly in no mood to bicker either and he sits back with a grunt. He’s getting too old to sit on the floor like this, but he said he was staying.

His hand drops to trace the cream colored water, index finger breaking the glassy surface followed by his middle and ring fingers.

Pollux stares at his idle hand as it makes waves that reach the shore of his knees and thighs in a rippling caress. A touch from a distance, crossing this eight or so inches between them.

He can’t resist--he reaches out, guarded but brushing his hand along the back of Ortega’s hand. Across his knuckles, one two three valleys and peaks each dotted with a hint of cool metal, four fingers to curl around three fingers as he is want to do. Moisture gathers in the creases of Ortega’s hand, either from the steam or just the water, hand sweat sticky to the touch.

Ortega hums, a punctuated sound in the hush, fingers twitching and they cup--curl and spread. Holding his hand with quiet affection.

Pollux thinks about warning him, that if he shocks him it’ll be the reckoning of all reckonings, but there’s no words in his throat when he looks.

Ortega’s eyes are half closed.

Eyelashes brushing the half moon lines of age and sleepless nights, the crows feet tickling at the corners of his eyes to match worn and well loved laughter lines. There’s greying salt and pepper to his temples--wiggling wavy strands tickling sideburns and his beard is coming in nicely. He mostly joked about it in the hospital that night, but Ortega took it to heart. It’s a stop in the transit of change and age--both subjects they’ve both talked and shouted themselves to raw throats on.

At least his hairline hasn’t started to recede yet and oh the crisis he would have at the mere thought of going bald. Not that the stylists would let it show, god forbid he doesn’t age in grace at just over forty. He’s no longer the face though; no stylist in the world can make grief look beautiful, nor erase heartbreak.

Pollux still remembers the charming rapscallion of a playboy who fit so well in front of a camera one would think he was born for the limelight. Born for this action, this sort of lifestyle and maybe he was, but Pollux doesn’t think so.

Time changed that—time and tragedy. Falls from great heights, twice now for Ortega, brought changes of perspective to them both and oh it smarts in the cavity of his chest. Beneath his ribs there’s ache he hasn’t been able to soothe for almost a year now. (Ortega makes up most of the aches and pains his body.)

Time is a cruel mistress with her pointing fingers and cheshire smiles--teeth far too straight and too white on a backdrop of red lipstick.

“Lux?”

Ortega whispers his name like a question.

Deep breath in and he closes his eyes. Feels the squeeze in his hand and he clutches back--the cool press of an emitter to his palm.

“Ricardo?”

He whispers back and opens his eyes.

“You know,” A mumble from only partially open lips that twist to a smile, “I always thought you would have smaller hands. Baby hands, ya know? Match the rest of you.”

Pollux sniggers.

“But you have piano fingers instead.”

“I never learned how to play the piano.”

“Is it funny that I can’t imagine you ever playing one?”

Pollux laughs briefly, the apples of his cheeks hurting in that good way. A way that remind him that he’s as real as his breathing, as the heartbeat he feels in the left side of his chest.

“I’d be terrible at it...” Pollux whispers like any louder and something would snap crackle pop like tempered glass. Like car windows and gas tank explosions--windows and red balloon paintings.

“True.”

Pollux rolls his eyes, head flopping back against the rim of the tub. Wet strands of hair tickling his shoulders, sticking to sweat slick skin--indiscriminate in its touches of tattoos versus real skin. Both worn and scarred and he calms the urge to scratch the hollow his collarbones form when he too hunches over.

“Would you still listen to me play, Ricardo?”

“Of course.”

Said without hesitation and a bright smile Pollux can’t help but share--crooked teeth and scars that tug and all.

Later they’ll go about the same routine they always do.

Ortega will help him out of the bath and Pollux will half dress. Ortega will sit in front of him while he sits on the bed, take his hands in his and rub medicated lotion into his cracked skin. He’ll pull loose scabs away, fingers light on the fresh cracks as they sting.

Hands across his prominent knuckles and narrow fingers, down his thin wrists, making sure the inside of his elbows are cared for. Routine motions, Pollux watching his hands work. The surety of his hands having memorized his skin, as knowing as his eyes and Pollux is known.

The quiet horror of that realization and the even quieter way he lets that fact eat him alive.

The quiet way Ortega asks each night if he needs help and the even softer way Pollux tells him yes—the timid way he’ll ask for help behind his knees.

Ortega will kiss the side of his knee when he’s done and look up at him with heady eyes and Pollux will pull him in close, guide his lips to his (as he is want to do) and turn off the light. Let what happens in the dark happen in the dark.

Both of their hands much more suited to break, but still Ortega will cradle the back of his neck and along the outside of his thigh like his fingers have always belonged there—meant to touch him. Press kisses to lavender scented skin.

And Pollux will run his fingers across his jawline and down along his neck and he thinks that if Ortega really could see him then he would see him.

(Hold him wailing--sobbing and better yet stop this. Make it all stop. How does he stop? He doesn’t, that’s it. He already knows how this goes, the ending of this story.)

There’s no words said when tears collect on his eyelashes, just hand in terrible hand, fanned out--small palm to larger palm. Names whispered with gasping breaths and fingers linked together. Pressed against the mattress and another night lost--another night gained.

#fallen hero #chargestep #fallen hero retribution #owen writes #okay to rebloog #obsessed with the intimacy of names like hello!#skdjhfk thank you tas i appreciate youuuuuu <3 #they talk about stupid things your honor #mournholdmushroom

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brelione · 4 years

Text

Defender (JJ Maybank X Reader)

Warnings:Canon Rafe,Canon Barry,Violence,short.

Request:Hello, can you do one with JJ when his girlfriend is in some kind of danger and he is very worried about her? A bit angsty and fluffy❤️You’re the best!!!

JJ woke up at two in the afternoon to a call from you.He smiled, wondering what you were calling him for.Sometimes you’d call him to tell him a fun fact or about a really funny joke you had just heard.

The others werent awake yet and he wasnt planning on being awake for a couple more hours, wondering why you would be awake at this time.Half asleep he answered the phone,his smile quickly fading.

“What?”He asked, wanting to make sure that he had heard you properly. “I have no idea what to do, like they’re still there.”You whispered,glancing outside your bedroom window to see Rafe and Barry standing there, both of them holding pistols as they waited for you to answer the door.

You knew what this was about, that they were probably hoping JJ or the other pogues were there so Barry could have his money back.Your bedroom door was locked, hoping that they wouldnt kick the door down.

“Alright, just stay put im on my way.”He whispered through the phone, scared that if he talked louder Rafe and Barry would break in faster.You stayed still, hiding under your windowsill as far from your door as you could be.

You couldve called the cops but then you’d have to explain why the two men were here in the first place and what your boyfriend had done which would do more harm than good.You did your best to keep your breathing under control, knowing it wouldnt help to be gasping and sobbing the whole time.

He got on his bike, figuring that it would be faster than John.B’s shitty van, speeding to your house with his heart pounding in his chest, tears pricking at his eyes.If you got killed it would 100% be his fault.He couldnt let it happen,picking up the speed, thorns slashing at his ankles but he couldnt care less.

Barry kicked your door in, shouting for you.Rafe hoped he wouldnt be forced to kill you.You were one of the few pogues he wasnt absolutely disgusted by and he didnt want to make that list any shorter.

“Come out, come out wherever you are!Cant hide from us forever!”Her shouted,chuckling right after.Rafe was shaking, knowing that Barry probably wouldnt hesitate to shoot you.JJ skidded across the grass of your backyard,jumping off the bike with his hand on his gun,hurrying around the front of the house to see that the door had been forced open, cursing.

He wouldve texted or called you to ask if you were okay but luckily he thought about it, knowing that your phone would ring and give away your location to the two intruders.He tip toed through your house,finding Rafe in your kitchen.JJ was careful as he came up behind the older boy, getting close enough to press the cold barrel of the gun against the back of his head.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”JJ whispered,knowing that he had power over Rafe at this moment.Rafe went to turn, only for JJ to kick him to the floor, foot on the boy’s back and then gun to his head, Rafe’s gun falling from his hand.

“I-Barry is upstairs-he knows that you took his money.”Rafe managed to squeak out, the bottom of JJ’s shoe pressing further into his spine.JJ leaned down, grabbing Rafe’s gun. “Get the fuck out and dont come back, ever.I will blow your fucking brains out, understand?”JJ asked, stomping down on his spine to prove his point.

Rafe held back a shout, nodding, running out as soon as JJ removed his foot.He now had two guns which meant that now he was more powerful than Barry.Speaking of, he could now hear the sound of all the other doors being forced open.

He carefully made his way up the stairs,Rafe��s gun in his hand now because it seemed more powerful.He saw Barry approaching your door, praying that you had barricaded it.He was shaking slightly, knowing that he had the upper hand since Barry hadnt seen him yet.

He ran at full speed towards the man, slamming him to the ground.It was all kind of blurry,everything happening quick as JJ’s hand pressed into the brunette’s throat, lifting him up before slamming him back down, blood coming from his cheekbone,temple and lip.

He was nearly unconscious when your door flew open to reveal you holding a metal baseball bat as you prepared to bash someones head in. “If you ever come back here I will fucking kill you.”JJ shouted,shaking Barry by the shoulders.Barry was to dazed to even look at the blonde,his head rolling to look at you instead.

“You got yourself a defender, huh?”he chuckled, coughing blood.You glared down at him,stomping on his hair and making him hiss in pain.Barry got up, stumbling out of your house, the blood not stopping.

JJ let out a sigh of relief, looking up at you.He took the bat from your hands, hugging you tight. “Fucking hell, (Y/N).Im sorry.”He muttered,squeezing you so hard you thought your ribs might break.

“Its fine,JJ.Im fine, everything is fine.”You whispered,fingers combing through his hair.He was just lucky that he had arrived before Barry got to the right door, silently thanking the universe.

He insisted on taking you back to John.B’s, claiming that you would be safer there not that Rafe and Barry knew where you lived.You held onto him as he drove the bike,head on his back.He had gone slower on the way back, not wanting you to get your ankles slashed by the same thorns.

He had to explain the situation to the rest of the pogues, all of them outraged by the situation.They had lectured him about taking the money, “I knew we shouldnt have taken that money, I told you this would happen!”John.B exclaimed, becoming frustrated.

Pope and Sarah a lot more concerned about how you were doing mentally and physically after it, Pope asking if you were hurt at all and Sarah apologizing for her brohter doing something so terrible.

You told them that you were perfectly fine, not understanding why they were making such a huge deal of it. “God, I hate my brother.”Sarah groaned,resting her head against her palm.Kie rolled her eyes, looking over at you.

“Thats what you have to say?Rafe tries to kill (Y/N) and all youre worried about is what it has to do with you?”Kiara sighed, making JJ smile. “Uh oh.”He mumbled into your ear, kissing your cheekbone lightly.

“Shut up!”Sarah shouted back,John.B smacking his head against his seat. “Guys, seriously?”He asked, looking between the two girls. “Oh, as if you’ve been helpful!What are we gonna do now that they know where she lives?She cant go back there!”Kiara exclaimed, making JJ sit up.

“I agree there, that’s why I think she should stay with you for a while. I mean think about it, your parents like her best, right?And you guys have that fancy ass kook security so they cant get to her there and you two get to have fun sleepovers.I see this as an absolute win.”JJ agreed, his hand somehow ending up on your knee.

Nobody really protested it, agreeing that it was probably the best option they had. “I’ll just find a way to sneak in at night.”He whispered into your ear.Kiara bit the inside of her cheek, thinking about it.

She would be lying if she said it wasnt a pretty good plan, nodding. “Yeah, okay.”She agreed, pretty sure her parents would be fine with it.They liked you mainly because you were a girl and you were quieter than the others, they couldnt really complain about you much.

The rest of your day was spent pressed against JJ’s chest on the living room couch, kisses being placed on your forehead and neck. “I love you.”He repeated over and over again. “Love you too.”You muttered, his constant touching making you tired.

“Im sorry that Barry tried to kill you.”He muttered, sounding so serious that it made you laugh. “It’s fine...”You mumbled, still kind of shaken up over the whole situation. “Nope.”He replied, kissing you gently. “But i’ll make it up to you, promise.”He held up his pinkie, twisting it around yours.

@nas-marie-loves-u @28cnn @sexytholland @yuxsh06 @ifilwtmfc @cherryobx @poguestarkey @n1ghtsh4d3-67 @poguestyleskye @judayyyw @sunwardsss @meaganjm @sarcasticsagittarius1998 @jj-fic-recs @homophobicclownmoviestan @jj-iz-bae @natalie-kate-98 @negativity4you @nxsmss @ofmaybankheart @broken-jj @joshy-obx @curroptbunnie @outerbnx-stiles @angelreyesgirl100 @hannahhh-marie @sadnessrehab @outerbongs @copper-boom @httpstarkey @teenwaywardasgardian @drewswannabegirl @simonsbluee @jiaraendgame @khiaraaa-in-spacee @on-socks-off @abbiesthings @kindahavefeelingskindaheartless

#jj maybank #jj maybankxreader #jj maybank imagine #jj x you #jj maybank oneshot #jj imagine #jj x y/n #jj obx #jj #rudy pankow

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idjitlili · 4 years

Text

What can I say I like a climb.

Thorin xhalf elf!reader

A/n:Bruh imagine having a crush on Andy from the office before just because you had a dream about him dressing up as Gaston and coming to your old high school only to see you slip on the grass. Yeah it happened a couple of months ago when I was still in high school

Summary:growing up as Gandalf's adopted daughter ,being apart of the company only to pass through Rivendell,only to make thorin rage with jealousy

Word count:1921

It was no secret that Gandalf wasnt your real father, you both looked nothing a like. However this didnt stop him loving you like you were his actual child,you werent sure if wizard could have children. You wondered if he ever got horny,it disturbed you but you did wonder. Anyways yiu didnt know your parents ,they were killed by orcs ,Gandalf found you crying as babe ,and thats all you know. You were half elf ,half human ,mostly Thorin didnt like that very much when he found out ,it just meant you lived longer than a human would.

So how you ended up in the company of Thorin Oakenshield was; simply because Gandalf didnt want to leave you with the elves again ,or leave you at home where you could be in more danger. You were more than capable of defending yourself,due to your many vists with Elrond they had trained you very well. You also became best friends with Lindir since he was responsible for most of your training ,plus being your tutor. Lindir was also abandoned as a child but was taken in by Elrond. He grew to become a marchwaden.

Lindir was a shy elf ,as were you ,yet around each other you were very comfortable. Many of your visits he would have to carry to your room ,because you had fallen asleep against him looking at the stars while he told you a story. You both very much enjoyed each others company.

However your feelings towards the dwarven king were much different to how you felt about Lindir. You knew you liked him as soon as you saw him at Bag end ,yes you were very much taken back by his looks ,you swear you fell in love with him right then and there. Of course you thought he could never like you ;he's a bloody king. Oh how wrong you were. He had no choice but to allow you on this quest ,being gandalf,s daughter and all. Gandalf told him to basically to shut the fuck up ,you were coming.

Thorin would never admit it but he did always make sure you were safe,and eating ,covering up with shes such a burden,or whatever. What about when he found out you were part elf? Yeah so you had just bathed and your hair was wet and pushed back and he saw your ears he was like

"you are fucking elf?" he had literally grabbed your elf ,whilst you were standing up ,looking at it ,you had groaned at the contact. Lets pretend that didnt make want Thorin touch your ears more roughly."part,not full,cant you tell compared to elves im an orge." and with that you had pulled your ear from his dwarven fingers walking away. He was left in shock ,how you could thik so low of yourself. shrek is hot though,but you thought you were an ugly orge.Thorin didnt like elves,but he definitly liked you had thought you were absolutely beautiful. With your e/c eyes ,h/l h/c hair,your height ,our form your personality everhting.

Anyways you had just arrived at Rivendell,Lindir hadnt seen you in a while ,and hadnt noticed you yet. You were led to dinner ,with was all veg,you had to agree with ori you could do with some chips right about now,or even some lembas bread. You werent surprised that he didnt recognise you you had developed more in body wise plus you were muddy and wearing a big coat and hat. He had looked for you when he saw Gandalf but when he couldnt see you he assumed you were at home ,he was disappointed..

Kili was sat next to you and Bofur ,he was admiring the elves,saying they didnt have enough facial half. "though that one isnt bad." he had gestured to a male elf,making the whole company burst out with laughter. "that isnt a elf maiden." kili face flashed red in embarrassment. You had nudged him still giggling "dont worry,young prince, I know which male elf I would fuck too." you had smirked eyeing lindir ,of course you wouldnt but if you had to you would. The company had laughed again "shes got a dirty mouth laddies." dwalin had pipped up, you smirked pulling off your coat and hat,as the company watched in confusion.

Standing up running over to Lindir ,jumping up onto him wrapping your legs around his waist,arms around his/ next. The company had gasped in shock."is she allowed to do that...?" bilbo had questioned,Thorin watched with a scowl on his face,Dwalin noticed laughing at his friend ,who scoffed. You had pressed a kiss to Lindir's cheek,who's arms now went around your back holding you to him,securely. "mellon, Its been a time." he had spoke placing you down,hugging you briefly. "it has indeed , I missed my bestfriend." you stood in front of him ,smiling ,thorin was still not convinced he was just your friend.

"youve grown mellon nin." he smiled ,speaking quietly trying to ignore the dwarves ,Thorin almost scoffed louder than a waterfall,as it was obvious what he meant. The dwarves watched carefually as the next thing out your mouth really made them think that they really didnt know you. "I know! my breasts have grown finally!" you had literally squished your boobs together over your tunic,making lindir blush in embarrassment ,but laughing. Kili and fili had watched you ,before looking at their uncle smirking ,he didnt even look at them. " i meant your slyness," you had giggled at him before hugging him again,before informing him you would talk to him later ,joining the dwarves again.

In which they all stared at you intensely. "so ,you and the elf then?" kili had spoken ,nudging you in the ribs like you had down to him earlier. "yeah we are bestfriends." thorin had scoffed,you had looked at him confused at this gesture. "just friends? right" his tone stern and disbelieving."we have been friends since I was a babe,thats all." you tried to hold eye contact with thorin but he just looked away with a hard expression. "but you said you rough it up with him." Dwalin tried defending his best bud. "it was a joke thats it,hes my bestfriend that all. not that it is any of your bloody businesses. " you stood up abruptly. "thank you elrond for dinner ,may I be excused."he had simply nodded his head ,you gathered your coat,and hat one for Lindir to come over taking them leading to you to your room.

His hand on your mid back,leading you away from the drama ,Thorin had watched you leave almost gulity for making you upset. Once he had gotten you to your room he had began to sort you a bath ,brushing through your tangled hair first,slowly getting you to relax."Ooooh I'm a dwarf I can give a joke ,but I cant take one, also my nose is bigger than my dick" you had mocked as Lindir finished your hair ,pulling you up shoving you in the bathroom. "you know they are only doing it because Thorin thinks you like me and not him. You mouth gapped open as he shut the bath room door aallowing your privacy.

You couldnt sstop thinking about what Lindir said so much so once you were in your night gown ,exiting the bathroom to meet with Lindir for a stroll in the gardens. You had tripped on your own feet, and Lindir didnt see as he was reading a book in a chair. Turns out you landed badly on your wrist ,screamed out in pain,Lindir became sonic rushing to you.You didnt even get a chance to explain before he rushed you to the healers. In which they gave you some herbs for the pain and wrapped up your sprained wrist,putting it into a sling.

Lindir had held out his arm for you ,and led you to a bench in the gardens ,your damp hair pushing it out your face in annoyance. Lindir notices this forces you to sit down,before he braids it swiftly ,before a voive clears their throat. Lindir finishes tying the braid off with a ribbon,he places a hand on your shoulder,before bowing his head at at someone leaving. You turn to see Thorin standing in front of you ,you quickly stand,hiding your arm in robe. You knew he would be furious if he saw what happen. His face is unreadable ,he's scowling as usual.

"uh..hi?" you had spoken unsure where to look,just generally confused why he was here. "you aren't together ,but he braids your hair?" he scowls ,you groan in annoyance,walking closer to him. "you know what you are bloody getting on my nerves, dwarf." you had growled out his eyes go wide slightly at your outburst,before returning into a scowl. "for the last time I am NOT dating lindir. The only reason he was braiding my bloody hair was because I sprained my wrist , and couldnt. Secondly even so he can because to elves and humans braids dont suggest we are bloody fucking." you had pointed your left hand ,pointer finger into his chest harshly. You tried not to go weak at the knees ,feeling the muscle he had on his chest.

Yet Thorin had became unbelievably calm as he forced you to sit with him on the bench,by guiding you with his hand on your mid back. "how did that happen?your arm." his hand reached over to move the robe from covering it,his hand lightly grazing the bare skin on your upper arm. Of course you were wearing an night gown under ,just incase you forgot. "..uh..weell i bathed ,then i walked out and tripped over my own feet ,thats it. Before you say anything thats why I was screaming not because lindir had his dick in me." you looked at him deadly serious ,he had sent you smile which was completely new to you.

"I believe you,y/n. I'm sorry for the way I werent around trying to find out if you were free to court?" you had choked at his words. "wait Lindir was right ,you do want to court me?" you had almost whispered ,he had nodded at you before you threw your one arm around him,hugging him tight ,which he does the same yet carefually,not wanting hurt your arm more.

"Lindir is going to tease me till the end of time,i swear."

bonus~in greenwood .

"and why does a half elf travel with dwarves." Thranduil had asked you circling you both , in reply you had jumped on Thorin ,wrapping legs around his waist.

"what can I say I like to climb" Thorin smirked at the elven king.

"guards remove her!"

"dont tell my dad!"

#thorin imagine #thorin x you #thorin x reader #thorin oakenshield #thorin the dwarf #thorin fic #thorin imagines #the hobbit x reader #the hobbit imagine #the hobbit imagines #the hobbit x you #the hobbit x #hobbit imagine #hobbit imagines #hobbit x reader #hobbit x you #hobbit

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baegarrick · 4 years

Note

idk if you've read/seen the book/movie but just... love, simon zukka au ?? sokka as simon and zuko as bram because blue spirit ( though if we r going for it personality-wise maybe switch their roles? idk ! ) — also in this one the friends are exponentially better

ok im so sorry I haven’t actually seen love, simon or read the book but.... I HAVE ACCESS TO WIKIPEDIA SO LETS GO

ok so I was considering Zuko as Simon bc of the musical thing/the loving parent (Iroh), the girl he sees Sokka (Bram) kiss is Suki.... but also bc I just love writing Zuko (maybe I’ll parse that out at the end)

BUT lets go with Sokka as Simon bc I also love writing the Gaang

Sokka is Simon

Katara is both Nora and Abby

Jet is Martin

Aang is Nick (but slightly also Abby)

Zuko is blue/Bram

Suki is Leah (but slightly also Nick)

Toph is Ethan (sorta)

Haru is Lyle

Ok so, obv this follows the plot of the movie/book. Sokka is a gay + closeted junior, not that his dad isn’t loving, but he’s in the military, and occasionally makes homophobic jokes, and Sokka feels like he has to be tough for him, esp. since his mom died. But he really likes making people laugh and so he joins the school musical, which is a comedy this year.

His best friend is Suki, who he’s known since he was a kid, but he’s kinda been withdrawing from her since he got to high school. He loves her, he really does, but everyone always thinks they’re dating, and it kinda makes him uncomfortable. He tried to like her, when they were younger, but he just... isn’t into girls. His friend group is Suki, Katara (his sister, and it was the two of them against the world since their mom died, but he’s pulled away from her too), Aang (a transfer freshman from out of state), and Toph (who spent up till 8th grade at a private school).

Also in the musical is Zuko, a hot senior who’s like.... super lofty. He gets really into theater, but he rarely interacts with people outside his friend group, like he’s better than them or something. (Mai and Ty Lee are also there, they’re Zuko’s friends.) Not in the musical, but in one of the other clubs Sokka is in, is Jet. He got kicked off the football team for being too rough with the other team last year, so he mostly just hangs out behind the bleachers smoking.

Sokka’s on the school’s tumblr one day (shut up, Katara, I don’t have a tumblr!!) when he sees someone posted an anonymous confession saying they’re gay but they really don’t have anyone they can talk to because of their family situation. Sokka gets their email (BlueSpirit) and start emailing (BoomerangDude) them for a couple of months. He learns that Blue’s family has really high expectations of him, and since he’s only a year away from college he can’t mess them up because if he does he’ll be cut off, and he can’t afford college if that happens. He’s got a sadistic little sister (who isn’t actually terrible, she’s just got her own shit going on, and if shoving Zuko in the warpath of their father takes the spotlight off of her, all the better) who would absolutely out him if she knew, a girl he’s pretty sure wants to date him (Mai), and an after-school job (the tea shop) thats cutting into his extra-curricular activities.

This is.... really similar to Sokka, actually, and he likes making Blue laugh (they switch to chatting online sometimes, like discord or some chat app), and Blue has a lot of insights on things Sokka likes (some of the same music,

Meanwhile, Sokka ends up going to this tea shop he heard about from Blue (it had been a slip, Zuko had NOT meant to say too many personal details, but he’d mentioned getting some kind of boba drink) and studying there with his friends. While he’s there, he’s surprised to see Zuko, who he’s never spoken to outside of the musical they’re working on!! (At some point, Zuko checks his phone and laughs, and Sokka’s like, oh no, I’m crushing on.... TWO DUDES???? BAD SOKKA). He starts to wonder if maybe.... Zuko is Blue?? it generally sorta fits, he knows Zuko is also a senior, and the tea shop Blue mentioned.... (to be fair, though, they see like three other kids from school there, so it’s not really a niche place)

Before Sokka can test out this theory, though, there’s a Halloween party which Sokka goes to with his friends. (They go as the Power Rangers.) He sees Zuko there (he’s in some some Kabuki costume), but with him is.... Mai from the play. They’re making out, and Sokka feels his stomach drop-- he’s not gay and Sokka’s crushing on a straight guy. He gets drunk. He throws up in the bushes outside, and Katara finds him, chews him out, and then sneaks him back home.

He emails Blue again, drunk, and says some stupid stuff like he wishes things were easier, and that he thought he knew who Blue was, but he didn’t. (Blue doesn’t reply.)

He’s checking his email on a school computer in the library when the bell rings, and he doesn’t log out properly, and Jet, who is skipping class, finds Sokka’s emails. He confronts Sokka about them, and says he won’t reveal Sokka’s secret... if Sokka helps Jet get with Sokka’s hot sister. Sokka hates the idea, but also, the idea of being outed is really terrifying. So he says yes, and tries to talk up Jet to Katara, who’s a little surprised bc while she thinks Jet is hot, Sokka was super against Jet whenever she mentioned it. Katara is involved in school politics, and convinces Jet to pretend to be interested to spend time with her. (he ends up running against her...)

Around Thanksgiving, with all their extended family there, ribbing him about getting a girlfriend (asking about Suki), Sokka leaves and goes to sit on the roof. Katara finds him there, and demands he spill whats up and why he’s acting so weird, especially about Suki. (she looks freaked out for a moment, and is like.... oh my god, sokka, is suki pregnant?????? sokka blanches at that) He admits he’s gay, and she hugs him, and they stay out there until their dad sticks his head out the window and calls them inside.

Feeling guilty about Jet, Sokka admits to Blue their emails might have been compromised. Blue starts to back away, taking longer and longer to answer emails.

At a football game, Sokka runs into Haru, who starts asking him stuff, and Sokka wonders if he’s Blue, but it turns out Haru is interested in Katara. Upset, again, that he doesn’t know who Blue is, he encourages Jet to “go big or go home”-- and so Jet asks Katara out by bribing the kid who does the scoreboard to switch out his campaign ad for asking Katara out. Katara is shocked, as she thought Jet was really interested in her campaign. She slaps him.

Mad that Katara wasn’t interested after all, and from the slap, Jet outs Sokka anyway, posting the emails on the school’s gossip site. Katara, who was mad at Sokka, instantly forgives him and is on a WARPATH against Jet, but Sokka just wants it left alone. Suki shows up a few hours later, and finds him on the roof. She admits that she had a crush on him, which was why she never said anything when people asked if they were a couple, but she knew Sokka wasn’t interested in her, so she never pushed it. She’s sorry she made it difficult for him to come out to her.

Blue is upset their emails have leaked, and deletes his account.

He comes out to his dad later, in the car, on the way to school on the last couple of days before winter break. His dad takes it well, and apologizes for all of the jokes he used to make-- it doesn’t make it right, but it was the kind of things he and the other soldiers used to say to each other. He ends up taking them to this tea shop he heard about (it’s Zuko’s/Iroh’s shop), and while there, he comes out to the owner of the shop, Iroh, as sort of..... practice. It’s liberating and also terrifying. Iroh is super cool about it, and tells them about his own son, who passed away a few years ago in an accident, was gay. It’s way later than Sokka thought, and when he looks up from the conversation with Iroh, Zuko’s standing in the doorway. not wanting to deal with people from school, Sokka leaves the tea shop without waiting for his dad to follow him.

The next couple of days at school are rough. His friends stick by his side, but Jet’s friends are obnoxious and loud, and Katara punches one of them. She goes to the school, but they’re eternally unhelpful bc.... what can tey do... its not a school website..... Later, Toph tells Sokka she’s a lesbian, and it’s not that she’s hiding it, but... it’s already tough enough when people treat her like she’s glass because she’s blind. They all go home for winter break, and when they come back, Sokka is refreshed and determined not to be put down by a couple of assholes.

He’s wildly surprised when Blue posts on the school’s tumblr that he wants to meet Sokka at the school’s carnival. This draws a crowd, which makes Sokka worried he’s gonna be pranked, but when he sits down on the Ferris wheel, he’s surprised that Zuko from the tea shop/musical sits down next to him.

Zuko says he’s sorry for ignoring Sokka’s emails, and he’s sorry that Sokka got outed to the school, and it wasn’t his fault that Sokka was blackmailed, and he should have reacted better to it. Sokka apologizes too, because Zuko shouldn’t have to be outed either, which... is why they’re here? Zuko blushes, and says he came out to his uncle, who’s letting him stay with him, since he’s tired of going home to his shitty dad, and that he might go live with his mom while he’s in college. He admits the Mai thing at the party was a drunken misunderstanding, and that he likes Sokka. He thinks he’s funny, and they like the same things (theater, music, strange taste in food...), and he’s hoping after this... Sokka might like him too? (they kiss on the Ferris wheel, and Katara takes like, 30 pictures.)

....

alternatively////

Zuko as Simon au-- bc I just wanted to write it out. he lives with his uncle, who’s the loving parent here, not Ozai!! (or his Mom/stepdad but I kinda forgot they existed for like 5 minutes)

Zuko is Simon

Katara is Abby (she’s his lab partner, and they have the same temperment)

Azula is Nora, but she doesn’t really play a big role (she’s an asshole, but also she’s 14 and is Going Through Things. she’s also in the closet and in love with Mai, but she doesn’t know it yet. it takes her a couple of years to figure that out.)

Mai is Leah

Aang is Martin (but less of an asshole. just the embarrassing + frustrated bits.)

Sokka is blue/Bram

Suki is the girl at the party Sokka kisses

Ty Lee is Ethan

---

I HOPE THIS WAS OK, like I said I haven’t actually seen the thing, but now I actually know what the plot is about!! <3333

#zukka #zukka au #love simon au

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sebspocketsquare · 5 years

Text

Wishing you were here.. 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (chatroom)

A/N: Hey guys! Here’s the second installment. I hope you enjoy it, and please let me know what you think.

Warnings: language, flirting, pet names, angst, feels, bad date vibes

Masterlist

[Sarge1917:] Tell me all your favorite things.

[SpaceKitten:] All of them? You can’t be a liiiittle more specific? Lol

[Sarge1917:] oh, I’m sure I could, but.. I want to know everything there is to know about you, kitten, so I figured I’d just outright ask. (;

Every time Sarge flirted with you like this, it made you squirm in your seat while a huge smile overtook your face. To say that you found him irresistible was an understatement.

[Sarge1917]: But if it’ll be easier for you.. let’s start with favorite food, music, flowers and scent.

[SpaceKitten]: I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.

[Sarge1917]: Deal.

This is always how your conversations started out, genuine interest in wanting to get inside your shell. But, in the early hours of the morning when the sun is just starting to paint the sky in pastel flames, the connection between you sparks and ignites.

You spill your hearts out without a second thought.

[Sarge1917]: Kitten.. can I be completely honest with you?

[SpaceKitten]: always.

Your response is nearly immediate, like its second nature to reassure him that he can trust you. That he can feel safe with you.

[Sarge1917]: I really care about you.

[SpaceKitten]: I really care about you too, Sarge.

You thought that was common knowledge in the friendship that had bloomed between you. He was always there for you, and you for him.

[Sarge1917]: As happy as it makes me to hear that, I’m not sure you understand what I’m trying to say…

[Sarge1917]: What I mean is.. I like you, kitten.

[Sarge1917]: Probably much more than I should, given I’ve never even so much as heard the sound of your voice, let alone seen your face or held you in my arms.

[Sarge1917]: I thought all of that was important when I first joined this site.. that I was already set up for failure because id never have an emotional connection with a person I couldn’t physically see.

[Sarge1917]: But I was wrong, kitten.. so very wrong.

Your mouth has gone dry at this point, a lump forming in your throat as your heart threatens to explode behind your ribs.

[Sarge1917]: Talking with you is the highlight of my day, and frankly, I don’t want to imagine a life without you in it..

[Sarge1917]: Which makes what I’m about to say very hard for me.

The excited rhythm of your heart immediately becomes a harsh thundering in your chest, fear flooding through your veins.

[Sarge1917]: I know we’ve never really gotten into detail about what I do for a living, but occasionally, I have to go off the grid for a few weeks, even months, at a time..

[Sarge1917]: It would seem now would be one of those times.

You stare blankly at the screen for a few moments, not quite sure how to respond to him.

He was leaving… for an undetermined amount of time?

And ‘off the grid’? What did that mean?

No computer access? Surely he had a cell phone?

[Sarge1917]: Kitten…? please still be with me..

You don’t even notice how long you’ve sat, lost in your own thoughts, until he messages again.

[SpaceKitten]: I’m here..

[SpaceKitten]: How long will you be gone…?

You don’t notice you’ve started to tear up until you can barely read his response when it comes through.

[Sarge1917]: Two to three months. Depends on how quickly I get my work done. I won’t have access to phone or internet where I’m going. That’s why I needed to tell you..

[Sarge1917]: Because I know it’s selfish to ask you to wait for me.. Hell, if you even feel the same as me..

[Sarge1917]: But I can promise, as soon as I get back, I will contact you.

You’re surprised he’s the one feeling selfish, when all you can think of is begging him not to leave you.

He wasn’t yours, yet the idea of going weeks without speaking to him made anxiety fill your lungs.

He’d given you the one thing you’d been missing: hope for something good. Hope for something beautiful.

[SpaceKitten]: When do you leave?

[Sarge1917]: First thing in the morning.. I know I should’ve told you sooner, but I.. I didn’t know how.

[Sarge1917]: I’m not good at saying goodbye.

You force a smile and take in a shaky, tearful breath.

[SpaceKitten]: Not goodbye.. just ‘see you soon’, right..?

[Sarge1917]: Of course. Just see you soon.

When Sarge finally signed off a few hours later, an empty pit formed in the center of your chest and you found yourself silently sobbing yourself to sleep.

Was it childish? Maybe, but in that moment, you didn’t care. Your worst fear in the friendship had come to reality; he left.

Two weeks turned to four, four turned to six, six to eight and so on, until Sarge’s absence had reached an appalling 22 weeks.

Summer had turned to autumn, and the autumn leaves had begun to turn a shade of brown that only winter’s frost can bring.

Waiting longer than that for a faceless man you’d met on the internet seemed foolish, and so you were determined to move on.

You found a different app, more up to date, showing you other singles in the area who were looking to meet up.

Setting up a date with the first guy who matched with you seemed like a good idea at the time.

When you show up to the address of your dinner date, you realize it’s a more-sleazy-than-not type of place, and seemed like the perfect spot to have more intimate conversations than you were ready for. Especially on a first date.

Trusting your gut is something you’ve always had a hard time with.

Your date is named Nicolas, and though his profile seemed nice enough, he seems to have a problem with keeping his hands to himself.

Fingers found their way beneath the hem of your dress and inched far too high for your liking, several times.

Each time you denied his advances, he laughed as if it was a cute joke, and proceeded to do it again ten minutes later.

An hour and a half in, and it was taking everything in you not to slap him or cry.. or maybe even both.

The end of the date couldn’t come fast enough, and you were thankful you drove separately.

He walks you to your car, backing you against the drivers side and pressing his body to yours in a feeble attempt to seduce you. He seems to have no idea how repulsive you find him.

Claiming to feel ill manages to get you away from him without making mouth-to-mouth contact. When you’re out of the parking lot, tears fall freely from your eyes.

Once you’re in the safety of your apartment, skin scrubbed raw in the shower and wrapped in your smoothest, softest robe, you make a silent pact with yourself that the only men you need in your life are Ben & Jerry.

They’d never treat you this way, they’d merely mend the holes in your heart with chocolate and caramel goodness.

What more could you need?

Your hand is shaking and your eyes are puffy and bloodshot when you finally bring up your chat app on the computer. The one you’d met Sarge on.

You go to your account settings, finally ready to let go, to give up and deactivate your account.

You’d decided you were finally done.

Taking a few deep breaths, you bring the cursor of your mouse to rest over the DEACTIVATE button, fresh tears stinging the back of your eyes as you hesitate.

A silent prayer resounds in your mind as you let out one more shaky breath and prepare to finally click.

...but not before the familiar sound of a new IM comes through the speakers.

Your eyes are still closed from your moment of regaining composure, and you try to calm the erratic beating in your chest. It can’t be him. It can’t. Calm yourself.

When you open your eyes, tears flow over their edges and your jaw falls slack.

[Sarge1917]: Kitten…?

You’re convinced you’ve made this up, it’s some sort of hallucination. Moments ago, you silently told yourself that if it was meant to be, you’d be given some sort of sign, and now.. this?

Was it coincidence? Or interference from the divine?

You’re too trapped in your own mind to even consider replying right away.

[Sarge1917]: Please still be with me…

His words ring back to memories of your last conversation and you find your emotions fighting a battle between relief, joy, and anger.

[SpaceKitten]: I’m here, I just.. I’m in shock. Is it really you?

[Sarge1917]: Please forgive me. I didn’t know my trip would be extended and I had no way to let you know.

[Sarge1917]: I thought about you every day I was gone.

The familiar feeling of butterflies in your lower belly resurfaces, though you try your best to fight it.

[Sarge1917]: Kitten? You there?

You weren’t sure how it was even possible, but more tears fill your eyes as you type. Your fingers hit the keys harshly, not even bothering to fix the typos as you go.

[SpaceKitten]: You were gone. For so fucking long.

[SpaceKitten]: I started losing hope after week ten, but held out for you for 22 weeks.

[SpaceKitten]: you have no idea what that was like for me, Sarge. Wondering why you didn’t come back, when you swore you would.

[SpaceKitten]: Do you remember your last words to me, Sarge?

[SpaceKitten]: you said “please don’t forget me”

[SpaceKitten]: and I told you it’d be hard to remember anything else

[Sarge1917]: Kitten, please, let me explain

You’re too far into your rant to stop, it’s coming out involuntarily at this point.

[SpaceKitten]: I went on a date for the first time in two years tonight. And I promised myself I wouldn’t self sabotage, just because I couldn’t get you out of my head.

[SpaceKitten]: The date turned out to be shit anyway, but I can’t decide if it’s because I set myself up for it, or if it’s because all men are handsy, sex crazed idiots.

[SpaceKitten]: And all I could think when I got home was, “I bet Sarge would never have done this to me”, even though I have nothing for comparison because we’ve been nothing but ghosts to each other for nearly a year.

[Sarge1917]: Kitten.. I’m so sorry.

You have to cease your keyboard attack momentarily to fetch a tissue and clean up your face.

[Sarge1917]: Do you want me to leave you alone?

The question makes you scoff and shake your head, though you’re well aware he can’t see you.

[SpaceKitten]: That is literally the last thing I want…

Your eyes scan over the words you’d sent minutes ago, and you realize that while you feel you were in the right, you might’ve been a little harsh.

Guilt eats away at the lining of your stomach while you wait to see his reply.

[Sarge1917]: Can I call you..?

You’re stunned by the question. It was the first time such a thing had been brought up in all the time you’d been talking. You figured it was just because he was too anxious, or hated phone calls like so many people, including yourself.

[Sarge1917]: Hell, you can even call me. Block your number, I don’t care. I just want you to hear my voice when I say what I have to say. I need you to believe me, and if I can’t be there to say it to your face, this will have to do.

His next message contains an assortment of numbers, the ones you’d have to dial to finally accomplish something you’d only dreamed of for months.

Hearing his voice.

[Sarge1917]: Sleep won’t come easy for me tonight, so take your time, Kitten. I’ll be here when you’re ready.

Your phone is sitting on the edge of your desk, the blank screen taunting you as you look down at it. All you had to do was pick it up, dial the 10 digit number, open your mouth and force words out.

It sounded a lot easier than it was going to be.

What if you forgot how to speak?

What if he didn’t answer?

What if he does turn out to be a 77 year old trucker?

What if he’s a total creep, like you’ve been worrying about the whole time?

Somehow, you find the pros outweighing the cons. Your hands move of their own accord and pick up your phone, typing in each number with intent. You could do this.

The line rings once, twice, three times, before someone finally answers.

The voice on the other end of the call is warm, deep, and sounds like honey. Your insides melt at the sound.

“Kitten?”

TAGS: (sorry if you dont like being tagged, its been so long since i’ve posted idk who to tag anymore lolol. @mindingmyownbusiness @plumfondler @buckybarnesappreciationsociety @loricameback @tinaferraldo @geminimoonbeamx @preserumsteverogers @moderapoppins @lowkeysebby @buckyshattergirl @jayattemptstoruletheworld @the-observant-fangirl @moondancewrites @moonbeambucky @trinityjadec @stevieang @bionic-buckyb @eyecandybarnes @propertyofpoeandbucky @promarvelfangirl @ballyhoobarnes @bucky-plums-barnes @cate-lynne @witchymarvelspacecase @imaginingbucky @theimpossibleg1rl @babygurl8840 @wonderlandmind4 @buckysthing @formulafun @curvybihufflepuff

#bucky #Bucky Barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #wishing you were here..#sometimes i write #sebspocketsquare #chatroom fic #series

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raibebe · 5 years

Text

On the run

Genre: Fluffy smut Words: 3.343 Prompt: My head says no but my heart says ooh yes For @im-a-special-bebe A/N: This somehow got really out of control and is a lot fluffier than I intended, I hope you enjoy it anyways. ❤ Also if this looks weird on some devices, I’m really sorry but tumblr was really not cooperating well with me today...

You had been on the run now for more days than you could count. The first few all a blur of gunshots and running. Lots of running through the woods, a strong hand either pushing you foreward or pulling you with him.

When your father had assigned an officer to protect you at the base, you had laughed thinking it was a joke. But when you realized he wasn’t joking, you became angry. You didn’t need a babysitter and the base was the most secure place in miles. It didn’t help that officer Son - like he had introduced himself with a deep bow - was not only strangely quiet and followed his orders with great precision but also was breathtakingly handsome. He wasn’t as bulky as some of the other soldiers but he had brought shoulders and his legs were filling out the uniform pants quite nicely. Not to speak of those full lips that were meant to be kissed.

When the sirens suddenly got off in the middle of the night, he had wasted no time to first barricade your room to give you time to not only get dressed but to pack a few essential items before he managed to sneak you out of the base and into the surrounding woods.

You had never asked where he was leading you, didn’t care anymore as long as the place had running water and something different to eat then the cans you had been eating whenever officer Son seemed fit.

Right now he was walking in front of you, compass and map in his hands, big rifle strung up on his backpack. He had killed people with that. People who tried to either kill you or him. Probably you. You were the general’s daughter after all. But still it made no sense to you why they were hunting you like crazy persons. They apparently had enough people and weapons to attack a military base and take it over. Why would they keep hunting you?

Lost in your thoughts you didn’t pay enough attention to the narrow path your protector was leading you through and your foot got caught on a rather large root. Screeching you lost your balance and suddenly everything went black.

By the time you woke up again, it felt like your head had been split in two. Hissing you opened your eyes slowly and tried to sit up.

“Slowly.” A soft but stern voice told you and a handsome face appeared in your vision. “You tripped and fell down a hill. I’m assuming you have a concussion. You also managed to sprain some ribs and dislocated your shoulder as far as I can tell.” That explained why breathing hurt so bad.

“Are we Safe?” You asked softly, your eyes failing to completely focus on the room you were in. The face disappeared for a while before it was leaning over you again, wiping your face with a wet cloth. “I carried you to a little safe house. It wasn’t far. Can you sit up now?”

Nodding softly, causing your headache to get worse, you tried to push yourself up again. A strong hand was placed between your shoulder blades and officer Son basically pushed you up into a sitting position. “These are painkillers.” He explained, handing over some pills and a bottle of water. “Drink all of this please.”

After he handed both over to you, he disappeared from the room again, leaving you to take in your surroundings. You were perched up on a big mattress that was lying in a rather empty room with bare walls. The only other furniture was a really shabby looking green armchair next to the window and a dark brown wooden cabinet. Swallowing the pills that were supposed to make you feel better, hurt even more than breathing. When you tried to lift yourself up even further you hissed loudly. Your left arm was just dangling by your side, not responding to your commands, the shoulder seemed dislocated indeed.

Probably startled by the noise you had made, officer Son came back into your room. He had taken off his jacket and heavy black army boots, just leaving him in the cameo pants, a white t-shirt with rolled up sleeves - which really extenuated his muscular arms - and his dog tag hanging from a silver chain around his neck. “Can you put it back into place?” you asked him, pointing to your shoulder.

The soldier nodded and sat down next to you. “It’s easier when you lie down on your back.” He instructed you and helped you lie down again. “This is going to hurt a lot.”You nodded and gritted your teeth. “I can take it.” He only snorted and took your forearm into his big hands, softly pulling it away from your body. “Please don’t scream too loud.”

Without any further warning he first pulled your arm really hard and then pushed the joint back into place. Accompanied by the nasty crack of you bones you let out a bloodcurdling scream, loud enough to wake a bear from its hibernation in a five mile radius. Tears were prickling your eyes, the pain in your shoulder and your ribs just too much to bear and your vision went black once again.

When you woke up again, the room you were still in was dark except for the moon shining its silver light onto officer Son’s beautiful body. He had taken off his shirt and pants and was sleeping in the shabby armchair. Someone should be painting this. His facial features were relaxed, plump lips slightly ajar, strong chest moving with the rhythm of his breathing. He was breath-taking.

You had never asked for his first name, thinking it would stop you from feeling a certain way for him which was definitely not professional in any way. But you had heard his comrades call him Shownu which was probably a nickname but it somehow really fit him.

A loud growl originating from your stomach broke your shameless staring. Embarrassed you curled your arms around your midsection, which caused you to wince in pain because your ribs were still hurting.

“You should eat something and let me have a look at that.” A raspy voice cut through the silence. Officer Son had woken up and was stretching his long body. It took all your willpower to not make your jaw drop. The moonlight casted shadows in the dips of his muscular body, making his abs stand out even more. Swallowing dry, you nodded absently.

“I’m afraid it’s going to be canned food again.” He announced when he got up and put his shirt back on. Groaning in frustration - whether it was about the horrible food or him covering up, you weren’t sure – you carefully rose from the bed followed him into the room next door which turned out to be the kitchen – if you could call it that. It was basically a really old looking gas stove, a sink and a couple of cupboards. In the corner was a small table with two chairs that seemed rather unstable. But because of the lack of proper seating choices you sat down anyways.

“I’ve never asked for your name.” You tried to start a conversation because the silence made you anxious. “Everyone just calls me Shownu”, officer Son responded, not turning around from the stove. “But that’s not your real name, is it?” He let out a deep sigh as if it was a burden to actually tell you. “It’s Hyunwoo, but no one calls me that. So if you are uncomfortable with calling me officer Son, just use Shownu, please.”

With that he handed you the can he had been heating up together with a fork. You ate in silence, Shownu’s eyes constantly on you as if he wanted to make sure you wouldn’t choke on your food so he had to safe you yet again. When you were done, he wordlessly took the can and disposed of it.

“Could you take off your clothes so I can take a check you for further injuries?” Shownu asked without looking in your face, slight blush colouring his sun-kissed skin. You swallowed dry, a similar blush creeping up your neck.

“Turn around.” This was stupid. He was going to see you almost naked anyways, not saying anything, he turned to face the door to the room you slept in. Cautiously you pulled your sweater over your head, hissing from the pain that shot not only through your ribs but also your shoulder. “Shit”, you cursed when you saw the dark purple bruise that covered almost your entire left torso, you must have fallen hard. “How hard did I fall?” you asked while shrugging out of your pants as well and putting both items carefully on the table.

“You fell down a small portion of the hill until you were stopped by a rock” Shownu answered matter-of-factly. “Can I turn around?” “Yes” you gave your permission, but still put your arms around you in an attempt to hide yourself.

When Shownu turned around, he first furrowed his eyebrows before his lips formed a smirk. “I can’t check you like that” he stated when he came closer to you. Taking a deep breath you uncurled yourself.

His touches were light as a feather ghosting around the huge bruise and left an almost burning sensation that you were sure wasn’t because of the injury. “Tell me when I hurt you”, the soldier whispered almost, his breath tickling your naked skin and giving you goose bumps. Now checking every rib for fractures, his touch got more intense the closer he got to your still covered breasts. Your breath got stuck in your throat and your heart was continuously beating faster and faster as soon as he touched your upper ribs, fingers just barely grazing the flesh of your boobs.

“As far as I can tell nothing is broken but I can’t quite touch your upper ribs” Shownu confessed when he retreated his fingers. “Sh-Should I take my bra off?” you asked shyly, not meeting his gaze. “I would like to be sure that you are not injured”, he said calmly, “but you don’t have to, if it’s too uncomfortable for you.”

Wanting him to touch you further, to keep heating the fire burning inside of you, you turned your back to him. “Open it.” You whispered, not trusting your voice.

For a while no one was moving. Letting out a deep breath, Shownu suddenly closed the distance between you two and opened clasp of your bra, the garment falling to the ground the only sound in the room. Gently he began touching you, starting a couple of ribs below your breasts, still standing behind you, his warmth was traveling through his shirt onto your skin.

When he reached the flesh of your breast, you held in your breath. You hadn’t been touched like that since you had been ordered to life on the base for your own safety. A whine made its way up your throat and past your lips when his fingers were pressing down harder to feel your ribs. His fingers were stopping their movements for a while before continuing their work. The longer he as touching you, the harder it became to supress the lewd noises you were making and the hotter it seemed to get in the room and between your legs.

Clearing his throat Shownu stilled his fingers. “I don’t think anything is broken.” With that he retreated from you and took a step back.

Already missing his heat and his touch you turned around to face him, not covering yourself this time and looking directly into his eyes. “Are you sure?” You saw his Adam’s apple bobbing when he swallowed, his eyes getting darker and his gaze switching between your face and your exposed chest. “Do…Do you want me to check further?” he asked breathless.

Nodding you stepped towards him, closing the distance and pressing yourself flush against his chest. “You know, Shownu, it hurts a bit right here.” You whispered against his lips before placing both his hands on your chest and moaning softly at the sensation of his rough hands against your sensible nipples. Swallowing again, Shownu softly massaged your breasts and rolled one of your stiff nipples between his fingers which made you moan loudly and throw your head back. Wasting no time Shownu attached his lips to the exposed skin of your neck and sucked harsh before kissing his way up your jaw before he connected your lips in a fiery kiss. Sighing into the kiss, your hands found their way into his messy dark brown locks, pushing him closer to you whilst deepening the kiss. When his hands started roaming your body, it felt like he was setting you on fire with each caress of his fingers. “Hold onto me” he said breathless when he broke the heated kiss for not more than necessary before grabbing your behind and lifting you off the ground. Shrieking you wrapped your legs around him, now feeling his arousal through his boxers touching your ass.

Shownu softly lied you down onto the mattress in the room next door as if you were made out of glass, careful not to hurt your ribs further and ripped his shirt over his head. Pulling him down with your hands around his neck, you caught his sinful lips in another heated kiss. When he deepened the kiss further, your tongues dancing and exploring each other, you hooked your legs around him and pushed him even closer. Gasping you broke the kiss when his boxer clad hard-on was brushing against your hot core. “I want you.” You whispered into his ear before you raked your nails down his muscular back, making a moan escape his swollen lips. “I don’t want to hurt you further.” He voiced his concerns but rolled his hips down again, wanting to feel the sweet friction again. “But you want this too.” You pouted, pulling him flush against your almost naked body. “My head says no but my heart says ooh yes.” His last words were drowned in a drawn out moan when his clothed dick was sliding along your wet folds. Rolling your hips upwards again, you asked: “And what does your cock say?” That made him growl deep in his chest and attack your neck with kisses and bites, leaving angry red marks. Slowly he made his way down your body, teeth and tongue playing with your erect nipples before kissing down even further. Reaching your soaked panties, he took the cotton between his teeth and pulled them down. You gasped when the cold air of the night tickled against your hot core.

“Are you sure about this?” Shownu asked again, now kneeling above you. “My head and my heart both say yes” you mimicked his words and made grabby hands towards him, needing him close. He smiled fondly at you not moving from his position. You groaned in frustration, your hand reaching down in between your own legs. If he wasn’t going to touch you, you would do it yourself, sighing softly as your fingers slowly began to circle your clit. A curse left Shownu’s lips, his eyes focused on you shamelessly spreading yourself for him, one of his hands coming down to palm himself through his tight boxers. When you slid one of your fingers into you, both of you let out a deep moan. Slowly pushing the digit in and out more lewd sounds fell from your lips and your eyes fluttered shut when you added a second finger, moving them faster and faster when you felt your orgasm building. “Shownu” his name not more than a sweet whimper. “I need you” you added, desperate because your fingers just weren’t enough to make you fall over the edge.

When you pulled your fingers out, dragging them lazily over your clit and opened your eyes again you were met with a sight that made you even more aroused if that was even possible: Shownu was sitting on front of you, fist tightly curled around his erect cock and his wide blown eyes fixated on you. After dragging his fist up his dick one last time, he quickly sat up and positioned himself between your legs, teasing your wetness with the flush tip of his length. Hooking your legs around him again you pulled him close, letting out a needy whine.

Finally he slowly entered you inch by delicious inch, stretching your walls and giving you that wonderful feeling of fullness. When your hips where flush with his, he leaned down and placed a sweet kiss on your lips. “Are you okay?” he asked softly. “If you don’t start moving now, I’m gonna go mad, Shownu”, you hissed, wiggling your hips to get at least some kind of friction. Chuckling he captured your lips again in a deep kiss and finally started moving his hips in a slow, sensual rhythm. Breaking the kiss with the need of oxygen you gasped loud and arched your back off the bed, wanting to be even closer to Shownu, to melt into his heat, forgetting your injured ribs. The pain shot through you like lightning and made you whimper. “Let me do the work baby, just relax”, Shownu whispered in your ear before gently kissing your temple. “Then move faster, please” you begged him, raking your nails down his broad back. “I was so close.” Kissing you softly he promised: “You wish is my command, darling.”

Suiting the action to the word, he let his hips snap forward more forcefully, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room accompanied by a symphony of lewd sound falling from both of your lips when they weren’t slotted together in a messy swirl of tongues and teeth.

Feeling your orgasm creeping up on you again, begs for Shownu to bring you your sweet release started mixing in with moans that were getting louder and louder. His touch too much but not enough, your whole body feeling like it was on fire. Parting from your lips, he moved to sit up and threw your legs over his shoulders, gripping your thighs for leverage and began slamming his length into you even more forcefully than before, hitting your sweet spot every time. Every coherent thought was wiped from your mind, Shownu reducing you to a moaning and sobbing mess. Releasing his bruising grip on one of your legs, he quickly licked his fingers before circling them fast around your clit. Screaming and lifting your hips off the mattress you were hit by your orgasm. White dots were swimming in your vision and your whole body began to shake and tighten up.

Shownu suddenly let your legs fall off his shoulders and jerked himself fast before spilling his release all over your torso, painting you white.

For a while the ragged breaths you both let out were the only sound filling the room, trying to collect yourselves and calm down from your highs.

“I should clean you up”, Shownu broke the silence, getting off the mattress and leaving the room. Returning soon with a cloth he cleaned his release off of you, still naked. Blushing you covered yourself with the thin blanket. Awkward silence began spreading between the two of you, just staring at each other. Clearing your throat you lifted the edge of the blanket and scooted over a little to make space for Shownu’s big body. Smiling so brightly, his eyes were turning into little crescents, he quickly climbed behind you and embraced you in his big, strong arms.

In this moment, just before you fell asleep, everything was alright: No thoughts were wasted on the fact that you were still on the run and that you had no idea where to go or what had happened to the rest of the people on the base. You were just surrounded by Shownu’s warmth and his comforting smell.

#monsta x #shownu #son hyunwoo #monsta x smut #shownu smut #shownu fluff #monsta x fluff #monsta x requests #monsta x reader #shownu x reader #monsta x fanfiction #monsta x fanfic #monsta x drabble #shownu fanfic #shownu drabble #military au #monsta x military au #shownu military au #mine

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boymeetsweevil · 6 years

Text

For Science 4/7

Grouping: Reader x Nerd!Jungkook

Word Count: 9.6k (im sorry its so long!!)

Warnings/Themes: definitely probably nsfw but purposefully not that many again. drunk jungkook being angry and then clingy, idiot kook, making out? ANGST?? Hoseok being the slimiest being on the face of the earth,

Summary: Jungkook asks you to let him watch you get off. For science.

A/N: I would like to thank @b-angst-tan for beta reading this series as it is so far. I also would like to tag @m-icdrop , @jiminslye & @ephemeral-mindset to let you know that i finally got my shit together and posted lmao. hopefully i didnt leave anyone out who wanted to be tagged. if i did im very sorry and if you want to be tagged for subsequent posts, just DM me and let me know :)

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 5, part 6, part 7

You wonder if maybe you should have chosen something more weather appropriate as the chill of the still early air nips at your stockinged ankles. It was a hard choice: The fleece-lined sweatpants with the dried tide pod stuck at the hip or something cute and feminine so you could play catch-up with whatever nice thing Yoori was wearing. The sight of Yoori in a slightly similar outfit of an elegant pea coat and demure pleated skirt convinces you that you made the right decision. But while your anxiety about picking the right clothes wanes, a sudden wave of exhaustion hits you. Normally you would be able to rest on a Saturday after 90 minutes of contorting yourself into endurance-testing positions, but today you had no time to untangle mentally—only physically—as you rushed through a shower to give yourself enough time to run to your apartment to grab a change of clothes.

Yoori looks up from her phone and sees you approaching her where she stands by a Starbuck’s storefront. A large grin splits her face, revealing a pair of adorable dimples on each cheek. You’re not expecting her to shove her phone into her coat pocket so she can run over to you and crush you in her arms.

“Hi, how are you!”

“Oh, uh, I’m good. How are you settling in?” Her grasp is fairly constricting , but you try not to appear shaken as you spit her hair out your mouth.

“I’m doing fine. I leased my apartment while I was away so, I’m still at the hotel until that contract ends. But that’s only for a few more weeks. After that I’ll move back in and really be at home. You smell lovely by the way. What scent is that?”

“Thanks,” you blink, “It’s just soap.”

“Mm, what kind of soap?”

“The dollar store kind.” She nods with a smile. “Um, where are we going?”

“Just to this little place up on Main Street. It’s called La Lune, have you heard of it?”

“Of course I have. They’re notorious for only ever being un-booked twice a year! And even then it’s just because they’re taking breaks so the owner can fly to her house in Paris.”

Yoori plays with the sleeve of her coat. “I suppose it does have a bit of a reputation. I must have just gotten lucky with their date book.”

“Don’t you need an appointment to get in?”

“Yes,” Yoori trails off.

“Will we be able to even get in? I-I didn’t call ahead to make a reservation since you said you’d take care of the plans for today.”

“They said they have an extra spot open for us today since they’re training a new technician.”

You don’t push because you know what they say about looking gift horses in the mouth. But you can’t help but wonder how you could have gotten so lucky on your first attempt to get seen at the nail shop. Any suspicion you have about Yoori’s methods of getting onto the appointment book evaporates when you step foot into the shop.

From looking at the pictures of the interior that you could find on Google images, you know that the design is based off of a bunch of spas that the owner herself went to during her many travels to Europe. All the décor is a novel twist of organic meets minimal with polished woods and metals and clean, sloping lines all existing harmoniously. You sit down in a plush chair in the waiting area while Yoori chats enthusiastically with the woman sitting behind the front desk. She does a little spin for her as they most likely talk about how much prettier she looks since the last time she came to the shop.

After confirming the appointment, Yoori makes her way over and sits next to you. She leans over the arm of her chair to peer over your shoulder at the vials of designer nail polish in your hands.

“Do you know what color you’re going to get?”

“Not yet. I usually just do black since it doesn’t clash and it doesn’t make my fingers look as stumpy”

“What are you talking about? Your hands are precious.” She reaches over to bring one up to inspect. “You have such a nice natural nailbed color. A nude would be perfect.”

“You don’t have to flatter me, I know what my hands are like. We can’t all have perfect OPI model hands, Yoori.”

She grins at your indirect compliment. “You think they’re perfect?”

“It doesn’t matter what I think. Some things are just objective facts.” She’s quiet for a bit, a small expression on her face as she looks at you carefully.

“I think this shade would look good on you”, she picks out a specific soft shade that highlights that mimics that pink tone of your nails. “Plus, its suitable for the winter and spring. So, you could wear it for a while.”

“It’s really pretty. Thanks.”

“I could buy it for you. If you like.”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t ask you to do that, you’re already doing so much for me today as is. I—“

“Too late.” She swipes the bottle out of your hand and gets up to go pay.

The guilt is too much for you to sit back and let it happen, so you launch yourself out of the chair and rush past her to the front desk, debit card out and ready.

“I’d like the buy the shade that Yoori has in her hand, please. Thank you.”

Her eyes are wide, but she doesn’t argue, and lets you buy the shade. You give her a pat on the arm and accept the tiny satin drawstring gift bag and try not to think about the chunk of money that just left your account.

You can only assume the rest of the nail appointment is nice but you can’t know for sure. You do know that you must have enjoyed yourself because you promptly fall asleep two minutes into the hot rock hand massage that comes with every booking. Yoori snapped a quick picture of your lax dreaming face and woke you up when the technician asked her what shape you wanted your nails. Leaving the salon finds you refreshed and with a beautiful manicure.

“Feeling hungry yet,” Yoori asks after she catches you staring wistfully at a random pedestrian with a bagel. “There’s still time for it to be brunch at the place I was talking about.”

“Yeah. It’s just too bad my nails are all nice now,” you joke. “Saturday mornings are for ribs at my house.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know. They don’t have ribs on their brunch menu, I don’t think. Do you want ribs? I can check and see if there are any barbecue places that are open for lunch.” She fumbles for her phone and types frantically like she didn’t just get a hundred-dollar manicure.

“Yoori, Yoori, hold on! I was just kidding. There’s no way in hell I’m messing these nails up. I’m almost considering just drinking water for lunch so I don’t have to use my hands.”

“Wow, you…really got me.” She lets out a breath of relief before side-eyeing you. “Are you sure you don’t want ribs?”

“Positive.”

“Good,” she chuckles.

The two of you make small talk about what brought each of you to engineering as you take walking directions from Yoori’s phone. The walk ends at a pretty looking place with a yet another French sounding name. It’s filled to the brim with fresh flowers, giving the air a sweet scent that has your mouth watering even more. You take a chance and allow Yoori to order for you, trying not to be suspicious of the strange cheese dish she orders as an appetizer.

“—And that’s how we met Tae. We didn’t meet Hoseok until about a month later when he spilled his drink on me in line for the comic book signing at the campus bookshop that one year.”

“I think I remember that day, actually,” Yoori blinks up as if sifting through the memory in mid-air.

“Oh! Did you go? I feel like I would have noticed another girl there. I think I could count all of us there on one hand.”

“No, I wasn’t there. I’m not a comic book person actually. I just remember seeing all the people coming back in cosplay. There was actually this one really beautiful green elf costume I saw on my way to class. There were lights woven into the fabric and everything—I almost took a photo.”

Your cheeks heat up and you duck your head to take a sip of your extremely expensive blood orange mimosa. “That was actually me.”

“Was it really? Did you make it yourself?”

“No—well, yeah, I did the bulk. But Jungkook helped me a lot and Tae helped me find the materials.”

“And Hoseok?”

“Hoseok scratched his ass and watched.”

“Wow, I can’t believe that was you. It’s like destiny. We must have been meant to meet,” she lays a hand next to yours. You can’t help but notice how well the color of her pastel nails goes with your nude.

“Yeah, I suppose so. But enough about me, I feel like I’ve just been blabbering on and on about my friends.”

“No, I love hearing about them. I always envy people with lots of stories to tell about their friends. I feel like I have to ask,” she trails off, a shy smile splitting her face. “What’s it like being the only girl in that friend group?”

“It’s…only mildly frustrating,” you say with a laugh as your food arrives. It smells wonderful and given the amount of truffle shavings, you’re glad you chose to come here on a day that you weren’t paying.

“How so?”

“I mean, you know how guys are and you know how STEM guys are. Add to that the fact that they aren’t getting laid and you have a very interesting strain of emotional constipation.” Yoori nods along understandingly. “And let’s not forget all the stupid questions they ask me since they can’t ask any other woman.”

“That sounds like it might be frustrating.” You chuckle at her diplomatic tone.

“I mean it is, but they’re nicer than most guys and they mean well.”

The sly smile appears again and she leans forward to create a bubble of privacy.

“Nothing more than platonic has ever happened between you and one of them?”

Thankfully, a waiter rushes by and bumps the table a little and you can use that as an excuse for suddenly choking on your food. You certainly weren’t expecting her to inquire about your sex life so early into the conversation, and the irony of the situation isn’t lost on you. Of course, the apple of Jungkook’s eye would ask you about which of your guy friends you’ve ever screwed around with.

You blot at your face with a cloth napkin. Luckily for you, the way you look when you’ve narrowly avoided asphyxiation and when you’re concealing guilt is very similar. “Oh my god, please. I’m trying to enjoy this food, not regurgitate it. But to answer your question, no. They’re not my type. They’re too…” you make some abstract gesture in the air with your fork and Yoori nods.

“What about Jungkook, then? Surely, he’s decent otherwise I’m sure you would have warned me by now.”

“No, he’s nice. He’s a little out of it sometimes, but that’s always been his thing, you know? But he’s really kind and warm and funny in his own way. Plus, he’s in love with you so I don’t think you have to worry about him doing the man-child thing too much.”

Yoori blushes and shifts in her seat, looking a little uncomfortable. “Yes, I figured as much.”

“Can I ask what took so long for you two to finally meet up? I just—I know he’s been contacting you for a while now.”

“It’s complicated,” she sighs.

“I can keep up.”

“You could say I’ve just always been very wary of the men in our department. They’re not your average guys, but they’re still men. They still want the same things from you. And,” she looks away from you to continue. “I wasn’t sure if Jungkook was that way as well. So, I kept my distance. This must seem pretty suspect to you. Especially since it happened after he got put on the department website. I’ve heard what some people have been saying.”

Your hands fly out to console her. “Oh my god, of course not. That makes total sense. You’re not obligated to entertain everyone who expresses interest in you. I get it.”

“Oh, gosh, I feel so bad.” She hangs her head in her hands and you watch helplessly as her hair nearly falls into her water glass. When you inquire why, she shakes her head with guilt. “Jungkook never outright expressed an interest in dating until a few weeks ago. All the times before that, he’d been a perfect gentleman via text. But it was the way he would stare at me in public with those…those moonpie eyes!”

“He does look like that sometimes. Especially with those glasses.” She points at you like you’ve hit the nail on the head.

After doing a cursory look around the restaurant to make sure no one around will be able to hear her confession, she elaborates. “It was just so obvious how he felt and I was so used to guys feigning wanting to be platonic friends only to corner me in the parking lot after what was supposed to be a friendly dinner out. I-I couldn’t trust him. But then I heard that you were friends with him and I decided I would give it a chance.”

“Why would you trust him just because of me?”

“I have my reasons. And I just figured if you were willing to be friends with him, he might not be so bad. Plus, my mom has been pestering me about getting married and I wanted to get her off my back.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re giving him a chance. It means the world to him and he can finally stop pining silently. When is your first date,” you ask neutrally. Although you know that as soon as you get a date, you’ll have to terminate your weekends with Jungkook.

“Oh well we haven’t really discussed anything like that. I think he might ask about it soon, though. I’ll keep you posted.” The little eye roll and laugh she lets out breaks the heavy mood and you try to steer the conversation in a lighter direction.

“Tell me about your friends, Yoori.”

“Me? Well, I probably don’t have as much to say as you do. Most of my friends have long since finished the program and I’ve been so busy with my dissertation that I just don’t have as much time as I used to for hanging out and stuff like that.”

“I thought you were friends with Sunyoung. The bio double major? Jungkook said you were pretty close.”

“Well, he’s right. At first, we were. She’s been really busy ever since she got engaged, so,” she trails off.

“To that Jaehyun guy, right? But, wait,” you drop your fork as the details fall into place. “Weren’t you guys all friends? And didn’t they get married like half a year ago?” Your heart breaks when you realize Yoori may have been alone for at least 6 months while working.

“I could tell I was making things difficult by third wheeling, so Sunyoung suggested I give them some space.”

You were pretty certain you saw Sunyoung and Jaehyun hanging out with a few of the other women in the engineering building on the regular when you went to print things for class using the department printer. Even with her indirect language, it’s pretty clear what happened between Yoori and her friend and you don’t push. Though you do feel bad for the animosity you felt towards her when she first introduced herself.

“Well, I’m glad we met. It’s nice to finally have a new girlfriend,” you say. She looks up at you with slightly dim eyes but perks up when you lace your fingers together briefly.

The smile she gives you is brilliant and infectious. “Me too. So much,” she says quietly.

When brunch ends, Yoori suggests continuing your stroll so you can walk off the post-food sleepiness. The weather is a bit brisk and there are unanswered texts from Jungkook on your phone, but you don’t say no and keep the notifications unread. Something about the fact that you’re in the shopping district with a pretty manicure and your pretty friend makes you feel good. Good in a way that you haven’t felt in a really long time.

You link arms and window shop for hours, though it doesn’t feel like it. She pulls you into store after store because she saw something that she thought would look ‘splendid’ on you. Somehow you manage to look past her imploring eyes and put the designer garments back on the rack, but not until after she’s made you try them on and spin around in them so she can sing your praises. While you browse each shop, you make comments about the other shoppers or the items that make her dissolve into giggles or make her cheeks flare up with a warm blush and a gaping, incredulous smile. By the time you finally part ways, you almost don’t want to get into the cab she’s called for you, but your feet are aching and the sun is starting to set. She blows you a theatrical air kiss and makes a surprisingly dorky ‘call me’ gesture with her hand that has you covering your face so she can’t see how hard you’re smiling. When you step out to face Jungkook’s building, the mood of the day’s outing lingers on you like a perfume. Or maybe it’s a halo. Either way, Jungkook notices something about you is slightly different when you finally arrive at his doorstep.

“Hey,” you greet him without looking and instead focus on getting your feet out of the little heeled booties you’d been wearing for so long.

“You changed?” His voice is muffled from where he lays with his cheek smushed into the sofa. The xbox controller in his hand dangles as he takes in your appearance. “When did you do that?”

“I went back to my house after yoga. I couldn’t go meet her in a rank t-shirt and the sweats that I slept in.”

When he doesn’t say anything, you turn to see why he’s so silent. One look at the handful of empty beer bottles sitting neatly by the floor by his feet lets you know what the deal is.

“You been drinking, Jeon?” Jungkook when he’s drunk is quite the handful, but the owlish way he blinks at everything when there’s liquor in his system is almost funny enough to make the rest of his drunk antics worth it.

“Yep,” he hiccups. He tries to shoot finger guns at you but almost ends up flipping you the bird.

It draws a string of giggles out of you. He squints and takes in your frizz free hair, your glowy skin, your nice blouse and skirt, the easy way you walk over to the couch to sit by him. His stare is tangible.

“What?”

“You’re really pretty,” he rasps and his hand reaches out without his permission to trace the swell of your cheek.

His comment takes you by surprise and you can only laugh awkwardly and lean out of his reach, unsure of what to do with such a blatant compliment.

“Wow, I spend one afternoon with Yoori and you’re calling me pretty? She must have rubbed off on me real good.” You take the controller out of his hands to un-pause the game of Zelda he was playing.

“S’not cause of her. ‘S cause you’re not hiding,” he mumbles before picking up the other controller that was laying off to the side. His comment doesn’t reach your ears which he’s secretly glad for. “You want a beer?”

“Sure.”

He reaches over the arm of the couch to fish out one of the leftover full bottles and hands it to you. He doesn’t say anything while he watches you chug half of it, meanwhile nudging the inside of his cheek with his tongue. A classic sulking Jungkook pose.

“Oh my god, what? Are you mad I got to spend the day with her and you didn’t?”

He blinks, surprised, when he realizes that he’s actually not mad about that. Rather he’s mad you spent so little of the precious Saturday with him, though it wasn’t clear at first. To think that he’s jealous of Yoori is funny enough to break him of his brief pouting session.

“Yeah,” he fibs, “but it’s fine.” He scoots clumsily nearer next to you. “You’re here now and there’s still the rest of the weekend.”

“That’s true. But I don’t want to play Zelda. Let’s do Mario Kart?”

“Loser each round has to take a shot and winner picks the next course?” He’s already stumbling his way back to the kitchen to pull the tequila bottle someone left in his fridge a while back and a pair of plastic shot glasses.

“Is there any other way?”

It takes three rounds, the first two of which are Rainbow Road, but you quickly catch up to him in terms of tipsiness level. Your whole body feels like its vibrating, and the tequila makes it seem like your blood is carbonated. Like you could float away at any moment. By a streak of luck and then redirecting to Bowser’s castle, you manage to get in the winning position. You’re on a roll and get cocky enough to start gloating, egging Jungkook’s underlying competitive nature on.

“Shit,” he curses under his breath as you cross the finish line 9 seconds before him. His stomach feels sloshy after four shots and the bottles of beer he downed earlier. You slam down his, now full, shot glass in front of him, spilling some of the clear liquid onto the table.

“That’s like, what, your fourth one? No, wait, it’s your fifth one. My bad.” You stick out your tongue as you perch next to him, pressing yourself to his back and reveling in the way he grimaces at the shot. “If I had known you would make the game so easy, I would have stayed out with Yoori.”

You’re so busy teasing him about his slow gaming reflexes that you don’t notice the way his smile twitches after he downs the drink. He moves uncharacteristically fast and all you can do is sit there as he tosses the tiny plastic cup to side and then turns to lunge at you. Your back hits the couch cushion with a soft thud and your breath leaves you in a whoosh. If it had just been him caging you into the couch because he was fed up with your taunting, it would be fine. But the moment his fingertips dig into your sides, you lose it and start thrashing.

Jungkook knows better than anyone else that you’re a wild tickling victim, all flailing knees and elbows. Truly a danger to anyone who dares to tickle you. But he’s still smart despite being five tequila shots and a few beers in and uses his bulk against you to keep your movement to a minimum. Perhaps it’s a little cruel to take it out on you, but he still can’t get over the selfish simmering of regret at not suggesting you ditch Yoori in favor of letting him spend the day wrapped up in you. He missed you, is what it really boils down to.

“No,” you cackle underneath him, “No, please! Jungkook this isn’t fair. Please!”

He merely flashes you his teeth in a mean grin and continues until your eyes are shimmering with unshed tears and you’ve stopped squirming so you can keep your bladder in check.

“Jungkook, please,” you beg softly in surrender, toes curling.

Maybe it’s the angle. Maybe it’s the pleading voice you’re using, maybe it’s the sparkly quality of your eyes, or the fact that you smell like lavender. The color, not the flower, he notes. Whatever it is, his eyes fall closed automatically and he leans in to slot his mouth over yours. It’s a slow kiss and even though his tongue swipes across the seam of your lips, it has a chaste feeling still. You wriggle your arms out from under his weight and push him off you slowly. Thoughts of Yoori float around in the back of your mind and you can’t turn them away without feeling awful.

“We can’t get into anything today,” you snap and smooth out your skirt. “I got my period while I was out.” You wince when the lie comes out, but you don’t know if there’s any other way to put enough distance between you so you can keep your head straight.

He watches you look around until you spot your overnight bag at the end of the room. “Are you leaving?” His tone bleeds annoyance and takes on a sharp edge.

“Yeah,” you say like it’s obvious. Because it kind of is and the longer you stay, the weaker your resolve gets. “We can’t fool around if I’m on the rag.”

“Just because we can’t fool around, doesn’t mean I want you to leave.” He’s thinks for a second. “Do you want to leave?”

“Well, if we don’t fool around, I should probably go. Otherwise, why the hell am I here?”

His frustration flares up once more and you’re surprised that he’s as upset as he is. “Because I want you to be? And because maybe you want to be here too? Is that so weird? You said yourself this wasn’t anything to make a big deal of.”

“It’s not. But—”

“Then why the hell are you leaving?” He rakes both hands through his hair until he looks frazzled and barks out a sarcastic laugh. You’ve never seen him so angry with you before and strangely your first instinct is to get angrier.

“As opposed to sticking around? To do what?”

“I don’t know. Anything? We could play Mario Kart until our eyes bleed. You could let me practice kissing you and feeling you up all night. Or we could just be silent and drink until we both pass out. I really don’t care just…tell me what you want. Just stay if you want to stay.”

Your cheeks warm at his blunt words, but you put your bag down. He lets out a sigh of relief when you don’t charge out the front door, but he tenses up again when you head out the living room and only relaxes finally when he hears the shower start up. After nearly half an hour, you emerge looking squeaky clean and a little guilty in sweats. He’s not sure what the cause of the guilt is, but he tries not push. You shuffle over to stand in front of him, the sheepish curve of your shoulders making you look tiny.

You hesitate for a second before planting a knee on either side of his thighs and seating yourself in his lap. Your arms come to wrap around the breadth of his shoulders and you rest your cheek on top of his head.

“How was your day,” you mumble into the strands of his shiny chestnut hair.

He preens silently at the affection that he didn’t realize he’d been craving all day and his arms mirror yours. They come up to snake around your waist as he reclines a bit and shifts so he can relax into the couch without jostling you. Out of all of the things you’ve started physically doing with Jungkook, cuddling with him like this might be his favorite thing to do. There’s something incredibly satisfying about getting to bury himself in your scent and softness.

“Fine. Got my work done, skyped with RealiCorp. Met Tae for lunch. Tried to call you to see if you wanted to do dinner with us, but I guess you were busy. How was your time with Yoori?”

“It was,” you sigh, looking for the right word. “It was really fun. Honestly, its really nice to talk with another girl for a change. I’m glad we were able to.” He hums sympathetically and squeezes you a little tighter. “She’s really nice. You’ll be good together,” you admit.

He tenses a bit and changes the topic.

“I could fall asleep like this.” It’s the truth. The way your fingers run through his hair and the warmth of your breasts pillowing his head make him drowsy. Though he can’t focus on it as much as he’d like or else he’ll ruin the mood with an awkward boner.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says, shifting so he can smile into your t-shirt.

“You’re so…” you can’t get the words out so instead you hastily smack a loud kiss onto his cheek.

It shocks both of you, but he doesn’t look put off. Instead, he merely adjusts his glasses, which you jostled with the force of your kiss. The gesture is so characteristically him that the floodgates open and you keep planting kisses on his face until he laughs and starts trying to catch your mouth with his own. He manages one or two cheeky kisses on your lips, but you swerve around enough to keep things PG. He huffs and keeps trying, one of his hands coming up to grab at your arm and keep you still. He leans forward, forcing you to lean back in his lap until you can’t anymore without risk of falling. When you clutch at his shoulders to maintain your balance, you’re right where he wants you.

Your eyes are squeezed shut as he brushes his nose against yours. It’s cute, he thinks. By now he knows in theory how you feel about period sex, but where’s the harm in kissing?

“Why are you being so shy? I just wanna kiss you,” he scoffs while attempting to nip at your bottom lip.

“Just kissing?” You open your eyes cautiously, lids at half-mast. He nods hurriedly, fingers drumming an impatient beat on the small of your back.

“O-Okay.” You barely get the word out before he’s swooping in with a low contented sound.

Making out just for the sake of making out reminds you of your time with your first boyfriend, the summer before college started. Only this is so much better because it’s Jungkook and because there’s no race to sex like there was when you were 18. Every press of lips is a deliberate choice and when you finally come up for air, somehow, you’re horizontal and are regretting the lie you told terribly.

He pulls away with a kiss-swollen pout and checks the time. When it’s an appropriate hour for bed and he suggests you both retire to the bedroom to watch TV before bed. You’re a little wary at first, but he’s a gentleman and doesn’t do anything untoward. He even lets you take control of his laptop and the HDMI cord while he writes continuously in his journal. You try to peer over at what he’s writing once you recognize it as his sex journal, but he pins you with such an offended look that you can only turn around feeling properly scolded without having actually been verbally addressed. You don’t think too much of the fact that he’s writing in it despite the fact that you haven’t done much in the amorous realm and he wrote on and off the entire day yesterday.

Even after you’ve watched three episodes of Elementary, he’s still writing. You unplug the computer and turn to look at him in his pretzel legged position. Every so often he’ll look over at you and then return to frantically writing in his journal. You try to engage him in an unspoken staring contest, but your eyelids drop closed and prevent you from winning. Only once it becomes clear that you’re trying to sleep does he wedge his journal underneath his half of the mattress and turn off the lights.

Passing through the weekend and into the next week doesn’t suddenly bring things back to normal. Instead it feels as though you’ve entered the twilight zone.

You and Yoori text on and off all of Sunday and into Monday to compare schedules and see when you can meet up for some quality girl time. This means that Yoori has started to come meet you outside your lecture halls when your classes end to walk to the library together and you arrive at your agreed meeting spots with her preferred coffee order. Your nails are holding up amazingly and you tell her so constantly while she smiles at how excited you are at something she often takes for granted.

Yoori suggested you have your your study sessions in the corner of the library coffee shop because the picture window shows all the light snow you’ve been getting and provides a nice form of visual ambiance to work to. Sometimes the guys attempt to crash the sessions. Often times you have to shoo them away by letting them take your ID card to stock up on hot chocolates with extra whip from the front counter. Your funds are depleting at an alarming rate, but it’s better to have the uninterrupted time with your first girl friend in a long time so you can get to know her better.

“So, are you going home during winter break,” you ask one day while typing away at the results section of a lab report. Yoori sits across from you in an oversized cashmere sweater you wish you could pull of half as well as she does. She’s been working silently for nearly an hour and you know she won’t take a break unless you distract her from the work.

At the sound of your voice, her head pops up instantly, her loose bun spilling out of its structure with the movement and cascading down her back. A freshman walking by the table nearly slams into a door trying to keep looking back at the same time. She closes her laptop, completely unaware of her effect on the people in the surrounding area.

“Yeah, I am. I haven’t in the past few years but my grandparents are coming from the countryside, so I should probably go this time.”

“Oh, that’s nice of you. I’m sure they’d all like to see you.”

“Are you going?”

“No,” you give a bittersweet smile as you play with the damp stirring stick next to your drink. “My family lives too far away for me to be able to go home and make the plane ride worth it. I’ll probably see them in the summer, though.”

“Won’t you be lonely? Do you want to come home with me?” Her brow furrows in sympathy and she reaches out to rub at your arm.

“No, that’s okay, I’ll be fine. It’s not my first rodeo, you know. Plus usually some, if not all, of the guys stick around since they live nearby but still want a break from their families during the day. But thank you though.”

“Okay, well there’s still time if you want to change your mind.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Are you almost done?”

“Almost. I’m waiting on my VASP energies to come in and then I can update my poster and I’ll be all set.”

“VASP? Since when do you do chemistry,” you get up to peer at her computer screen.

Yoori pats the open seat next to her and let her explain the very quick favor she’s doing with a professor she’s been in contact with since undergrad when she thought she would be pre-health.

“—So basically, now she’s just waiting to evaluate grain boundary energies to see if the electrolytes we’re using actually have the right structure to make a difference in hydrogen atom velocities. And I’m just here to help with some minor calculations.”

“Oh, that makes sense.”

A small ping from your phone alerts you of an incoming text from ~JK~.

Is Yoori with you?

“Um, I think Jungkook is trying to reach you.”

“Oh! I keep my phone on silent during the day,” she explains and hurriedly switches on the volume before opening whatever texts he must have sent her before he texted you.

“Really?”

“I have yours set on urgent, though.”

You grin. “And why’s that?”

“Because! What if you send me another meme about neural networks? I can’t just let it rot away in my inbox.”

“No one appreciates my memes like you do.”

“Aren’t I great?”

“So great,” you admit with clenched eyes and fists for dramatic feeling.

“I wish I didn’t have to go. I’m enjoying you complimenting me.”

“Oh. Are you headed somewhere?”

“Unfortunately, yes. The energy files just arrived and I’m about to finish entering them. I think Jungkook wants to meet up to discuss things, so I’m just going to pack up now and meet him at the dining commons before the dinner rush kicks in. I’ll text you later.”

“Okay, sure.”

After Yoori packs up to leave, you consider texting Jungkook to ask what he plans on discussing with her, but it feels so clingy and invasive that you’re ashamed of yourself and force yourself to dive into work. The lab report is nearly done, but there are a few articles you could read to get further ahead in your classes. It takes a long while, and you work through the usual dinner time to do it, but you manage to finish thanks to having turned your phone off as soon as Yoori left.

When you turn it back on there are a few recent messages from Taehyung and Hoseok inquiring about late night munchies plans. You figure eating with them is better than eating soup alone in the middle of the nearby convenience store. And better than ignoring the messages in favor of going home early to have pity sleep for dinner. You text them back saying that you’ll meet them in 10 and pack your things up.

You arrive at the smoothie place feeling haggard and not ready to balance Taehyung’s energy and Hoseok’s chaotic existence. The bright side is that there is a medium chocolate shake sitting in the empty seat at the tiny high table they’ve managed to save. You greet them with a tired smile and immediately suck down the drink, reveling in the way the chocolate is already lifting your spirits a bit.

“You look like shit,” Hoseok greets you. Taehyung slaps his arm, but turns to you with concerned eyes.

“Are you sleeping?”

“Why are you guys acting like you don’t see me passed out throughout random parts of the day 80% of the time?”

“Because you don’t look like you do,” Hoseok quips. At your blank stare, he goes back to innocently sipping his guava juice. “Just looking out for you, buddy.”

“Yeah, well I slept all of this weekend, thank you very much. What about you guys? You get up to trouble at the Dairy Queen again? Is that why we’re here this time?”

Tae nods somberly. “Hobi put lit firecrackers in their dumpsters again. But this time he almost caused their elderly delivery guy to go into cardiac arrest.”

“Something is wrong with you.” Hoseok merely winks at you in response.

“The worst part is that I didn’t even have anything to do with it, but they still wouldn’t let me in, even when it was just me and Kook,” Taehyung whines.

Hoseok snorts. “Ok, that’s on you. You were my accomplice even though you technically didn’t touch the fireworks but people remember your face better than they do mine. Should have waited at least a week before trying to go back in there.”

“Wait, this was all in one weekend?”

“Yeah,” Tae reaches over and dips a fry into your cup. “The fireworks were Friday, after game night. And then we tried to go in on Saturday, but they wouldn’t let us in. We tried calling you and everything.”

“You’re mad at me now? It’s not like I could have helped you.”

“Yeah, you could have,” Hoseok corrects, gesturing to your general chest area. “You’ve got the tits for that sort of thing.”

“Why are we friends,” you ask him with a soulless smile.

“Because you won’t let me motorboat you.” His response is immediate and just as dry. It spooks you a little.

“Well, I’m gonna go. I would say it’s been fun, but it hasn’t.”

“Wait!” Taehyung scrambles out of his chair and helps you back into yours. “You can’t leave. Jungkook might be done soon and said he’ll try and meet up with us. It’ll be the first time we’ve all been out together in such a long time.”

“We literally saw her on Friday,” Hoseok groans and tosses his head back in what looks like a mini tantrum. You roll your eyes.

“That was at Kook’s house, that’s not ‘out’. It doesn’t count.” Taehyung turns to plead with you, eyes big and starry, with a comical pout on his face. “Please stay? For me? Ignore him. I do.”

“Hey!”

“Fine,” you sigh before shaking your empty cup. “But I need another one of these. And Hobi is buying.”

“Like hell I am.”

“Do I have to remind you that if it weren’t for you and your whipped cream fixation, I wouldn’t be in the red for dining dollars and I might be able to afford my own drinks from time to time? You owe me, Jung.” You try to poke his sternum menacingly, but he moves to snap his teeth at your finger and you quickly pull back with a shriek. He agrees, though its reluctantly at best.

While Hoseok waits in the line to order your refill, Taehyung scoots his chair closer to yours. Carefully, he attempts conversation.

“How are you holding up?”

“With what, work? It’s the same as always. Tedious.”

“No, I mean with…Did Kook not tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“That he planned to officially ask Yoori out tonight,” his voice is quiet and uncertain.

“Oh. No, he didn’t tell me. But, it’s not like its our right to know. He’s an adult. H-how did you find out, though?”

“He told me.”

“And me,” Hoseok says as he sets down the second milkshake in front of you.

“I see.”

You start drinking on autopilot, too busy thinking about why Jungkook wouldn’t tell you such big news despite your being his best friend. You figure maybe he found out about your big fat crush on him and decided he’d rather tiptoe around you than have to let you down gently. Or maybe he just didn’t care enough about you enough to tell you these things now that Yoori was in the picture. What’s good is that the latter thought doesn’t make any resentment towards Yoori rise in your stomach. Instead you just want to curl up in a ball and wonder you did in your past life to deserve such a horrendous love life. Or, you suppose, lack thereof.

“He just shared his location. I think he’s on the way,” Taehyung tentatively disrupts you from zoning out any further.

If you hurried, you could probably take the campus shuttle home and be on your way home before Jungkook arrives, but part of you wants to see how he’ll explain his decision to you. You decide to stay because you don’t want to be anything less than supportive of his new relationship though it’s kind of crushing you in the process.

“Tell him to hurry up, then. You know what happens when I drink cold things,” your voice is light and a little bouncier than is appropriate and you know Taehyung knows what’s going on in your head. But Hoseok doesn’t and you don’t want him to.

Jungkook arrives 10 minutes later with Yoori in tow. She looks sheepish until she sees you sitting at the table and her dimples make an appearance. She runs ahead of Jungkook to envelope you in a hug. You’re still working on the physical boundaries of your friendship given that you’re not a huge fan of suffocation. Still, you pat her arm and let her get her fill before pulling back and offering up half of your chair. She gratefully accepts it and links arms with you immediately after settling down. Everyone scoots closer to open up more space and Jungkook pulls up a seat as well.

“It’s good to see you both, again,” Yoori chirps politely. Hoseok melts at the sound of her voice and beams at her. It’s gross.

“We’re good. It’s nice to see you so often now.” Taehyung chances a look at you. The initial shock of watching you and Yoori become fast friends apparently still hasn’t worn off. You don’t blame him but he’s so obvious about it.

“It is, isn’t it? You guys are just so fun to be around.”

“We like hanging out with you too, Yoori.” Hoseok’s voice climbs almost half an octave trying to sound so abnormally accommodating. Everyone else tries to contain their laughter. “You know, you still haven’t come visit me at the dance studio. I’m starting to get hurt feelings.”

“W-well, it’s just that I’ve been so busy and I still haven’t figured out a gap in my schedule when I can properly come see you. I’m very sorry,” she squeezes your arm unconsciously as she bows her head a little to him in apology. Your pulse picks up sympathetically for her.

“Hobi, if she wanted to see you do sweaty body rolls in an empty room, don’t you think she would have done it already?” When his smile twitches at your comment you add a quick, “I’m only trying to be realistic. I’m looking out for you, buddy.”

Yoori hisses your name in your ear, but you can tell that she’s trying not to smile at your sharp wit from her tone of voice.

“Anyway,” Hoseok starts up again, “Yoori, don’t you and Jungkookie have some good news to tell us all?”

Yoori’s cheeks redden at the sudden shift in topic and she looks to Jungkook for help. His face is similarly pink with embarrassment, but he still clears his throat like he’s about to make a toast.

“It’s not a big deal. I just wanted to say that I can’t do game night this Friday since I’ll be having dinner with Yoori in town.”

“You’re all welcome to join us, if you like,” she quickly amends. Your eyes widen and you swoop in to help Jungkook save face. You know it probably took him a lot to muster the courage to ask her out in the first place and if you don’t do anything, you know Hoseok will gladly wriggle his way in and ruin the date.

“Oh, we couldn’t possibly intrude on your dinner. But, thank you, for the offer. Right Tae? Right, Hobi?” Hoseok sulks but wordlessly agrees to stay out of their date.

“Yeah,” Taehyung jumps in to help you. “We’ll just have the game night at my place. I want to play cards anyway, instead of console games this time around.”

Everyone nods until the awkward air dissipates and all that’s left is the background noise of the diner and the sound of people finishing their drinks. The cold from your shakes starts to seep into your bones and you decide to use this as your exit ticket.

“Hey, sorry to ruin the fun, but I’m freezing and I didn’t bring a real jacket, so I think I’m gonna head home. You guys have fun without me, though.”

“You can just wear my sweater,” Jungkook pipes up and begins to pull the thick, woolen pullover he was wearing over his head. But you hold your hand up to stop him as you get down from your stool and collect your trash.

“No, Kook, you’re fine. I’m just gonna use the cold as motivation to get to the bus quicker. Have a good night, everyone.”

“It’s colder out there. At least take his sweater,” Yoori calls out to you. “For me,” she adds when you look like you’re thinking about it.

“Fine,” you huff as you take the sweater from Jungkook. You slide it on in front of everyone so they can have their worries assuaged. It’s still toasty from his leftover body heat and smells like his laundry detergent. He might not get it back for a while. “See? I’ll definitely be fine now.”

“Why don’t I go with you? I’ve still got a robotics assignment I have to work on. Plus, we can split cab fare instead of waiting for the bus.” Tae shrugs on his own coat and goes to stand by you.

“Okay.” You ignore his probing look until you finish waving to everyone and leave the restaurant.

Taehyung shoves his hands in his pockets as you request a ride home through an app on your phone. The silence is companionable, but the waves of pity and sympathy rolling off Taehyung are damn near palpable and you’re about to burst if you don’t address it.

“Just say what you’re thinking. I can practically hear it anyway.”

“You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine. I’m not 12. I’m not going to be devastated just because they’re going out on one date.”

“Yeah, but,” Taehyung hesitates for a bit, trying to cushion the blow, “You know it’s just a matter of time before they become official, right?”

“I know that too,” you wince when your voice cracks a little.

“If you ever need anything, you know we’re here for you.” You raise an incredulous eyebrow at the implication that Hosoek would do anything less than laugh in your face if you came to him looking for comfort. “Well, I am, at least.”

“I know, Tae. Thank you.” You let him wrap you in a one-armed hug, but don’t let him pull away so you can steal his warmth as you wait for your car to arrive.

Yoori’s apartment is nicer than anything you’ve ever seen. So much so that you have a hard time believing that you even live in the same town. It’s technically not your first time visiting her building and you’ve called many a late night cab from her plush lobby. You’ve even started to make small talk with her doorman since you’re there so often. But something was keeping you from coming up and visiting her actual apartment. All the times you’d hung out off campus had been at your place or at Jungkook’s place. There had been a lull in all that since Jungkook announced that they’d be going on a date only a few days prior.

After that fateful day, it was hard to act like there hadn’t been subtle changes in the way people were acting. Jungkook was suddenly super busy or always at the gym and couldn’t ever pick up your calls. And when he did return them it was only when you were dead asleep and couldn’t pick up your phone. For that, you were actually kind of grateful because you were certain that the next time you saw him on your own, he would try to break it to you that he couldn’t return your affections and that you could no longer be friends.

Taehyung and Hoseok, on the other hand, were still somewhat normal, but Hoseok was too excited about Yoori’s unofficial entry into the friend group and Taehyung kept soft-touching you like he could take up your pain through osmosis. Yoori was the only one who hadn’t suddenly turned weird and it was only because she wasn’t aware of the chaos floating around you all.

When she’d asked you to come shopping with her on the high street, you had a hunch that it was so she could get some new outfits for the many date nights with Jungkook ahead. You didn’t expect her to try and rope you into buying things as well, though you managed to get out it by truthfully explaining to her that Taehyung and Hoseok were still using your student ID like it was a credit card in someone else’s name and you had to be frugal as a result. But just when you thought you were in the clear as you approached her building, she invited you up to help her style the stuff she bought and stick around for dinner. To keep from having to explain yourself, you said yes.

But you instantly regretted it as you stood in the middle of her chicly decorated bedroom with picture windows and realized that despite the fact that you were extremely fond of Yoori, there was still a very small part of you that wished you had her life. It felt juvenile and reminded you that even after you stopped being a teenager you still had a ton of self-esteem issues left to address. The sooner you finished helping her with her outfits, the sooner you could maybe curl up on her couch and down the bottle of wine you bought while you were shopping earlier.

“I don’t think I like this one as much now that we’re not in the store anymore.” Yoori frowns at her reflection from inside the walk-in closet. The fact that she had a walk-in closet did not surprise you, but your mouth still dropped open when you the little seating area and the full-length panel of mirrors inside of it.

You finish picking out an alternative and then call out to her. “Come out and let me see it?”

She emerges in a short and slinky dress that would be perfect if it weren’t for the way it slouched at the neckline. It seemed intentional in the store with the way the salesman was pushing hard for her to buy it, but now it looked oddly frumpy.

“I think I see what you mean. Turn?” She obeys and turns gracefully, the skirt flaring out around her hips. “Why don’t you try these? They’d look amazing with that red blouse you wore when we went to the movies that one time.” You hand her some satiny trousers that she picked up on a whim but ended up really liking. If she paired them with red, Jungkook’s favorite color, he’d eat his heart out.

“You’re right, I think this is the one,” Yoori smiles widely at you and comes out with two pairs of shoes in her hand. Silently you point to the pair that would go better with the outfit, the ones with a subtle gold traces etched into the stiletto heel.

“If you want, you can wear your hair in a ponytail. Show off your neck, he’ll like it.”

“Really?” She laughs, slightly bashful. “Is he a neck guy?”

“For you? He’s a neck guy, hand guy, lips guy, ass guy. You name it.” As soon as Yoori hangs up her outfit for the date and puts it on her closet door, you flop face first into her bed, exhausted in so many ways.

“Why do you know so much about his, um, preferences? Is he vocal about that sort of thing?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” your voice is muffled by her bedspread.

“And are you not vocal about that sort of thing, then?”

Luckily she can’t see your face as you roll the question around in your head. You’re no prude and if it weren’t for the unfortunate series of events that is your life, you would love nothing more than to swap sex stories with Yoori as a form of bonding. But given that you can’t and you don’t really want to end up having to listen to her talk about sex with him when it comes, you decide one more white lie won’t hurt.

“I’m just a really private person, so I don’t really do that.”

“Good to know,” she chuckles and you miss the disappointed look on her face when she realizes she won’t be able to share with you. Although, it would make sense that you wouldn’t want to hear her talk about your childhood best friend like that. “What do you want for dinner?”

“Sleep.”

“Are you tired? How about we take a rain check and think about it again in a few hours? I’m gonna go come up with some slides for my coding class, but you’re welcome to nap in here and I’ll wake you up before it gets too late.”

“That…sounds great. Thanks, Yoori.”

“No problem.”

You wait until she closes her bedroom door and you’re certain you’re alone. When the sound of the soft music that she plays when she works drifts through the speakers in her living room, you crawl up to the head of the bed, get under the covers, and cry into the pillow. The sleep that follows is amazing though and you think it’s half because your body was running on fumes and half because Yoori has the best mattress you’ve ever slept on.

#bangtan bookclub #bttnetwork #networkbangtan #btswriters #bts scenarios #bangtan scenarios #bts fanfction #bangtan fanfic #bts imagines #bangtan imagines #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagine

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jedimasteramell · 5 years

Text

Backbeat

M!Ortega X F!Sidestep // Post-Date Night // SFW

Wrote to the Dagny song by the same name on literal repeat. Siona is mine.

If you haven’t played Fallen Hero: Rebirth, I can’t recommend it enough.

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

There's something about the way he kisses her.

Siona never expected nostalgia to have an actual taste, especially not tasting like Ortega. Burning… longing… a dozen wishes on shooting stars. A thousand promises, and a thousand and one suns to fulfil them. She didn't expect it smell like the cinders of car fires, his mother's tamales, sweat on metal mods, that same damn musky cologne he’s been wearing for decades.

She didn’t expect it to feel like warm blankets and crashing waves, like the first breeze of spring, and the vacuum of air pulled from a falling airplane. With hands tangled in her hair, the reassuring and stirring press of a well-muscled machine sandwiching her to the wall, anchoring her to the rest of the world.

Didn’t expect it to sound like soft acoustic, the rumble of distant traffic and thunder across the sky. How could she have known nostalgia would sound like breathy kisses, low rumbles of affectionate laughter, and Ricardo’s warm breath against her ear calling her lovely in English, Spanish, and every other way he could?

She couldn’t have imagined. Couldn’t have known. And somehow she forgot, until each time he kissed her again.

They broke apart to furiously flushed faces. Ortega’s grin from ear to ear at the sight of her mussed hair.

“What are you smiling at?” She shot at him, hiding her frazzled state and erratic heartbeat behind sass.

“You, obviously.” How was it possible for so much emotion to be stored in the corner of someone's eyes? For his earnestness, Ortega earned a sharp jab to the ribs. His ‘oof’ for her benefit only.

“Idiot.” She grumbled, massaging her knuckles. Next time she wouldn’t aim at the repair work. A sick jerk tugs her navel. Repair work she caused.

His grin remained, it had been far too long since he’d taken any insult of hers seriously. He mistook the wince as one of pain and not guilt, brushing her knuckles against his lips, the barest of static charges between his hands and hers. “Im glad you agreed to our date.”

His expression is too open, too warm, genuine in a way that turns her stomach and heart into gymnasts. “Yeah, well all we've done is made out in this alleyway so its not been much of a date yet.” Heat betrays her flushed cheeks, and the off kilter rhythm of her heart is not something she could ever possibly fake. He just has this way with her, and she just let it happen. Willingly even.

If smirks could be illegal, his most certainly should be. Especially since he shaved. Older face, younger eyes. Kiss-flushed lips cocked in the most infuriating teasing curl. Ricardo looked straight of a dream and he goddamn knew it. Bastard.

By his or her direct, Siona spun back into his arms, fingers splayed across his proud back. He stole her sarcastic retort along with the rest of her breath. She’d have let herself go flying along with it, if the tease of his thumbs, just under the waistband of her leggings hadn’t grounded her. Surprisingly soft, terribly tender, ripe with the memories of the intimacy they shared just days ago.

Ortega must have sensed her shit, the pause for air a polite time for her to disengage, to fiddle with her hem and curse the need for and the lack of contact.

“Let's go dancing.”

He said it with such ease and whimsy it took Siona a moment before she processed that he was indeed serious. Balking at him, she shook her head, only adding to the mess of her hair. “What no, I don’t- I can’t- and in public.”

Heavy comforting hands cupped her cheeks, a lid on the anxious angry flare. “Siona, hey, I know you by now.” No you don’t. “I'm not going to push you out there, not when your comfort matters so much more. I should have specified back home.”

“Home?” She queried speculatively and finally he appeared as abashed as she’d been feeling all night. Rose blush darkening his already bronzed cheeks and the tips of his ears.

“I mean, my place. Guess it just feels right to say home when you're there.” And once more, with that disarming smile he turned that fluster back around on her.

Ricardo Ortega was damn lucky she loved him.

Shit.

That wasn't the intrusive thought she wanted. Nor the hot rush that flooded her tip to toes at the very ludicrous notion she could even feel that.

Ortega’s pull on her was gentle and guiding, a comforting hand on the small of her back. The trip only a few blocks back to his apartment went by in a flutter of butterfly-feelings and far too many smiles. The presence of his hand pushing back the static void of his mind beside hers. They were two joined bodies here, even if not two joined minds. The doorman remembered her, she wished he didn't. Ortega had this way about him that made too many aspects of this, of them, bright, and shining, and grounded, and real.

Thank the devil, he’d left the lights down low. One glance on the couch and Siona’s whole face got five degrees hotter, and Ortega didn’t need any more reasons to be so smug.

Maybe he was the telepath then as he leaned into her, nuzzling into her dark hair. “I'm thinking about the couch too.”

A pout on her round lips, Siona twisted and shoved over-dramatically at the flat plane of his stomach. She couldn't budge him. Figures. “I thought you wanted to dance.”

He had no right to look so doting, no right! “I do.” The sheer magnanimity folded in the creases of his eyes and his smile was truly overwhelming. “As long as you still do.”

“I do...” She muttered, subconsciously leaning towards him as he stepped away to find the insulated remote that controlled his stereo system. A deep-beated R&B song, just fast enough to warrant dancing, filtered out from the speakers. Siona arched a heavy brow. “Your music's changed. What happened to all that club stuff you liked?”

“Tastes change. And I still like some of that ‘stuff’ you know. Just not tonight.” He lifted her arms to drape around his neck, hands finding purchase just above her hips. Goosebumps rose everywhere the faint static charge pulsed.

The song was catchy, or at least of quality artistry by Siona’s limited opinion. Music hadn't really ever been a thing for her. Too much else going on, too many other sounds and places to focus rather than engaging with the rhythms and lyrics of the radio. Her body didn't quite know how to move, every shift awkward and hesitant. “You can go ahead and say it.” She huffed, primarily at herself, mouth pulled to a cornered grimace. “I really suck at dancing.”

Ricardo hummed with a laugh, like it was really that easy. “You just need practice, Siona. It's not that different than a fight. In fact you can honestly just” Oh no, that grin meant he was about to say something exceptionally ridiculous. “sidestep.”

It took several pregnant moments, the song changing in the background, before Siona met his devilish smile with a disbelieving scoff. “You did not just make that joke.”

“I did and whatever are you going to do about it?”

“Smug asshole.” She swore, standing up on her tiptoes, and dragging him down into deep and abiding kiss.

There was something about the way she kisses him.

Ricardo doesn’t expect it to smell like shea and chocolate, like new clothes and hand rolled tobacco. He doesn't expect it to sound like an old favorite song restored to an unheard clarity, like the silence of the air before a great storm, like a prayer-hymn in pre-quake temple. He doesn't expect it to feel like melancholy, impatience, hope. Like fluttery stomachs, the wind while on his old bike, like taking off his costume for a well deserved shower and an ache so profound he’s not sure he could bear it. An ache and a love and a promise.

He couldn’t have imagined. Couldn’t have in his wildest, most heart-wrenching dreams. And yet, somehow, he forgot, until each time she kissed him again.

#my writing #chargestep #fallen hero rebirth #ricardo ortega #fan sidestep #this man got me right in the feels and i cant let go

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demyrie · 5 years

Text

Incoming Call (Erasermight and Devu and Skype all at once)

[inspired by this amazing doodle from @pixiepunch and precluding twitter thread on low key jealous Aizawa who can’t speak English and might be a Little Fuckin Touchy about Devu! we’re really getting up to some shit on twitter guys it’s a fun mess and completely enabling im in love

Deets: Erasermight and dave and toshi friendship forever, set post-kamino and post-movie with heavily implied movie spoilers, rated t for implications of the nasty]

It was about ten minutes into a long-overdue Skype chat with Toshinori that Dave even thought to look away from the ever-shining face of his old hero partner and best friend -- but when he did, he immediately saw the man in the doorway.

His jaw almost dropped, alarm bells going off in his head as he watched the man turn and stare in their direction, hunched ominously with lank black hair falling across his face. He was dressed in black with an enormous pile of fabric slung across his shoulders and what looked like a knife case strapped on the back of a utility belt.

In the foreground, Toshinori was talking, no, raving about his students and their progress and the new experience of being a teacher, something Dave sincerely wanted to share in and contribute to, but he was far too attuned to the potential of villain attacks now. Especially with the bandages criss-crossing Toshinori’s shoulder and forehead, marking a change far more permanent and dire than simple broken skin.

Dave couldn’t find the breath or words to interrupt him, but he did point. He pointed very hard, very directly, right into the camera, feeling his adrenaline spike surreally an ocean away from what he was seeing. Toshinori trailed off, blinking owlishly, and looked over his shoulder.

“Ah! Aizawa-kun,” he exclaimed happily, leaning back and firing off a string of Japanese with his name stuck in there somewhere.

Introductions? Introductions. Dave’s shoulders dropped a fraction and he breathed out. Not a villain.

Across the room, still moored in the doorway, the newcomer just raised a coffee mug to his mouth and muttered something into it. His voice was alarmingly deep. He glared at the monitor and the scarf piled around his neck gave an affronted rustle all on its own, like a snake disturbed from cold repose.

Wait. Aizawa, Dave thought suddenly. A light bulb of recognition flickered on and he reached back in his mental records, combing through everything he and Toshi hadn’t been able to discuss since I-Island. Fragments, promises to explain.

There was so much to catch up on, but he could almost swear that name belonged to --

“Ohiyo gozaimasu, Aizawa-san. O-me ni kakarete ureshi desu,” Dave called as loudly as he dared, putting on a cautious smile and angling his tablet so he could incline his head respectfully. He felt confident that it was a formal enough greeting, or just the usual fare for a hopeful introduction, even as he winced inwardly at his sticky pronunciation. It had been a while.

Not long enough, however, to merit the reaction: in the ensuing silence, the man narrowed his eyes even further, and Dave could have sworn a menacing red light star-bursted out from under his hair. Then he took a breathtakingly standoffish sip of coffee and walked off without a word.

As soon as he was out of frame, Toshi shook his head with a laugh, calling something after him about breakfast. Aizawa’s response was low and short and Toshinori turned back to the screen with a dopey smile. It was one of the happiest, easiest expressions Dave had ever seen on him, the kind he’d missed for years, and it was just from a two second exchange about breakfast.

In that moment, Dave knew his earlier wild guess was right. He felt wild pride and glee fill his chest, because it was written all over Toshinori’s face: honeymoon stage, first degree. It made the man look ten years younger and bliss looked damn good on him.

“Please forgive him,” Toshinori intoned with a hushed, doting voice Dave had plainly never heard before, inclining his frazzled head briefly. “He looks scary, but it’s morning here, and his patrol just ended. He’s had a long night.”

“I’m not going to lie, I thought he was a villain,” Dave offered dryly, righting his tablet and settling back in his chair. Toshinori snorted, shadowed eyes twinkling.

“You’re not the first and you won’t be the last. I can’t say it’s unintentional, on his part. He’s … well, he’s him.”

Toshinori looked extraordinarily pleased with that fact. Boyfriend hypothesis confirmed in triplicate.

“So, that is him,” Dave prompted with a growing smile, giving a stifled little gesture in the direction the nocturnal hero had disappeared. He kept his voice low, even though Toshi assured him weeks earlier that “Aizawa-kun” didn't speak English.

Just courtesy, he thought, if such a thing was applicable to gossiping. His smile widened.

“That's your…”

He trailed off expectantly, having maxed out his limited intel on his best friend’s dramatic new life as a hero instructor. For a moment, there was nothing but silence above the distant buzz of his tablet screen. Toshinori delicately tucked his bangs behind his ears, a nervous gesture that swarmed Dave with memories of glancing between themselves during exams.

“If you want a word for what we are,” Toshi murmured, gaze pinned on his knees. He looked sheepish, but pleased. “I'm, ah ... afraid I don't have one.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Dave’s expectations recalibrate in real time, factoring in the retired hero’s shyness and their time apart and the language gap itself. Interesting, but not unexpected. So Dave tried his best to be reassuring, or just light. He lifted his brows and thumbed his chin with pointed thoughtfulness, putting on his best lecturing voice as if walking through a problem and the most likely solutions.

“Well, let’s see. He's … in your house. Do you want him in your house? Because I was a little worried that you didn’t.”

“Oh! Very much,” Toshi assured him with a startled laugh, waving his remaining free hand. “Yes, we … he stays here sometimes.”

The look on his friend’s face was a peculiar combination of terrified yearning and embarrassment, as if he both relished it and wanted more in the same breath. Incredible. Dave couldn’t hide his grin anymore. It was hurting his cheeks.

Who ever thought he would see the Symbol of Peace squirming in his seat with a crush?

“Are there any specific rooms you want him in?” he said as evenly as he could, trying not to snicker. Toshinori’s flustered smile fell away, brow knitting as he tried to parse the joke beyond its literal translation, then barked a laugh. The laugh tumbled into a cough and he reached off-screen for something.

“Dave!” he scolded over the wad of his handkerchief, eyes twinkling again. Dave shrugged grandly, spinning around in his chair.

“I'm just saying, I hope one of them is the bedroom.”

He watched with glee as Toshinori turned red and sputtered, shocked he would press the joke beyond subtext -- because Americans, right? He waved his hand placatingly, knowing how little teasing Toshinori could actually take, as he leaned forward and finished:

“Because you both look like you could use the sleep after everything that's happened. That's all.”

“Agreed,” Toshinori chuckled faintly when he recovered, giving a small, firm nod.

For a second, the two old friends seemed content to just beam at each other across their devices, appreciating a connection long overdue and much obstructed, but soon Toshinori’s gaze fell. As Dave watched, his expressive face wilted into something oddly vulnerable, or just distracted, and just when Dave was going to ask him what was wrong, the freshly retired hero took a deep, slow breath.

“I’ve never done this before,” he confessed, face downturned. His long fingers picked at the bandages wrapped around his forehead, brow furrowed.

Dave frowned, mirroring him. Was Toshi saying he had never “done” relationships before? Or maybe just normal life -- everything that was possible now that he’d lost what made him All Might. But then, while accurate, Dave knew that was the farthest from the truth.

“And if there’s anyone I know who can tackle something on the first try, it’s you,” he said reassuringly, but Toshi just shook his head and snorted softly, hand rising to self-consciously shade his eyes and their surreal glow; the cave of his cheeks and the exhaustion written in every line of his face. Feeling the physical distance between them like an ache under his ribs, Dave wanted little more than to reach out and put his hands on Toshinori’s terribly thin shoulders and squeeze.

“Hey, buddy. Toshi.”

When he looked up, Dave gave his best impression of the good old All Might smile.

“You’re doing great. It might be new, but this isn’t something you have to worry about winning. There’s nothing to defeat here. I'm happy for you and I want to meet him. You deserve it,” he said, feeling his throat tighten spectacularly as he said it. It was everything he meant and blindly, foolishly fought for that night at the gala, condensed into four words.

“You deserve everything, Toshi.”

When Toshinori just looked at him, shadowed eyes shining with the hope that such a simple thing might be true, all the affection Dave ever felt rushed him again. He felt doubly grateful to have survived his own ego and stupidity to see his best friend’s face again, much less smiling like this. No shining teeth, no promise, no performance. Just happiness.

He was allowed, after all these years. After all those fights, all that loss, Toshinori was allowed to just exist and feel loved, even if his new boyfriend was factually terrifying and Dave was definitely going to pull any and all records belonging to “Shouta Aizawa AKA Eraserhead” the moment they hung up. Just to be sure.

It was a best friend thing. Like best man, but with hacking into the Japanese crime database. Easy.

“Thank you, my friend. I miss you. We still have so much to talk about. I didn't really get to ... see you, on the island, for obvious reasons,” Toshinori said with a grimace, then beamed into the camera. The screen jolted and he flashed a thumbs-up. “I have to go and make breakfast now before Shouta escapes my good intentions, but could we try again soon?”

“Definitely.” Dave gave him a mock salute, pausing only briefly before calling back to what he always said before cutting their radio: “All right, All Might. Shield out.”

Toshinori’s grin lit up the whole room, so bright Dave distantly worried about one of the pixels blowing on his tablet screen. Fantastic. His heart squeezed gratefully.

“Safe travels and best of luck, my friend,” Toshinori said, soft and happy. He raised his brows. “Save the world for me, will you?”

“For you? I’ll do my best.”

#erasermight #bnha #yagi toshinori #david shield #post kamino #post movie #bnha two heroes movie spoilers implied #demyrie writes

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blessethwrites · 5 years

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stars exploding

(Day 1 of MultiSaku Month)

Fandom: Naruto

Pairing: SasuSaku

Summary: Don't get Sakura wrong, she was happy she and Sasuke were becoming friends, following everything that had happened. Ecstatic even. But hell, did he have to be on her mind all the damn time?

On AO3

Her love for Sasuke had always been one of her defining characteristics, Sakura was starting to realize. Back in the Academy that was the thing everyone knew about her and, to be fair, she hadn’t minded. Then when they were placed on the same team that damn crush continued to be her driving force even as Naruto and Sasuke kept growing and improving, not only as shinobi but also as people; it was somewhere around the Chunin exams that Sakura had decided her feelings were more than an infatuation and had been brave enough to call it love.

It all spiralled from there. And somehow after all those years, after an entire damn war, that same love she held for him remained so deeply ingrained in her very being that she couldn’t imagine ever not loving him.

Except. She let out a heavy sigh once she finished up the last of her paperwork. Now things were different. There was no war anymore, there was no need to run around chasing Sasuke and silly as it might’ve sounded, it felt like the beginning of a new era. And for once, Sakura was happy with where she was. She was enjoying settling into her new life. That was a challenge of its own -- even after a few months, at times she still had trouble remembering it was all over -- but not an unwelcome one. The others, at least, seemed to be struggling with getting used to the newly established life of peace as well, and Sakura thought there was a sense of relief in navigating their new lives together.

She pushed herself up from her desk and stretched in an attempt to work out the kinks in her back. Ino would tell her to stop overthinking everything and just enjoy it; and she’d be right, of course, even though Sakura would never admit that to her face. The thing was, there wasn't a switch she could turn to stop thinking. In fact, thinking was all she’d been doing lately and somehow it all kept coming back to Sasuke. As it always did.

She wondered, not for the first time, why she seemed to be the only one unable to move on. Their former classmates had. Karin had. Ino had. Meanwhile, Sakura was stuck. Or at least, she had been. She still believed she’d always love Sasuke, except lately she was starting to realize that didn’t necessarily mean romantic love. After all, platonic love was just as precious.

So one could say she was slowly coming to terms with the fact that perhaps while she did love him, it was only as a dear friend. A very, very dear friend. And she tried to treat him as such, she reasoned with herself. She'd come to pacing around the room which wasn’t all that spacious to begin with and nodded along to her thoughts. Yes, ever since Sasuke had been released on probation she’d made sure to be friendly while not being too friendly to a point where he might feel uncomfortable. She really wanted to build a relationship with him that wasn’t based on a childish infatuation followed by years of separation. She wanted to get to know the man he’d become and to become someone he could trust in return; she wanted that teammate bond they lacked, the one she’d dismissed as boring when she’d been younger.

And it seemed he wasn’t entirely opposed to the idea. Of course, she hadn’t been so forward as to tell him all of that but she’d made an effort he appeared to recognize. She would even go as far as say he tried to return it in his own way. And she was incredibly happy he did, naturally, but that didn’t mean she was equally happy that he occupied so many of her thoughts.

“Friends, you idiot, friends,” she chastised herself and let out a low groan. She was hopeless, was what she was. She immediately tensed once she heard a snort come from behind her and whirled around, fists ready, only to recognize the chakra signature at the very last moment.

“Um,” she racked her brain for something to say, mind drawing blank. As much as she thought about him, nothing could really compare to the real thing, she realized as she watched Sasuke raise an eyebrow at her. “Hi?”

He let out another snort and shook his head; there was something akin to fondness in his eyes, though Sakura must have imagined that. “Hi,” he returned her greeting dryly and she had to stifle a grin. During the past months, she’d come to find he had a very dry sense of humour; right now he was basically teasing her. “I see you’re busy, should I come back later?”

This time she let the grin spread on her lips and leaned back until she was perched on her desk. It wasn’t as unusual as it would’ve been some time ago, to have Sasuke stop by to visit her at the hospital, but it also wasn’t as if he’d made it into a habit. A happy surprise, Sakura would call it. “Is there something I can do for you or did you just come to tell jokes?”

He seemed amused by her comment but didn’t say anything. He was watching her, eyes calculating, and she had no idea what he was looking for until he finally spoke up. “You haven’t had dinner yet, have you.”

The tone of his voice suggested it was a statement rather than a question and that he knew perfectly well she hadn’t. Sakura threw a glance at the old clock sitting on the desk next to her and then her eyes returned to Sasuke almost defensively; it wasn’t that late. “No,” she said cautiously, hoping to avoid a lecture. Not that Sasuke was the type to give her one, generally, but she’d had enough from both Ino and Naruto to last her a lifetime. She shrugged lightly. “I was going to head home soon anyway.”

He merely hummed, unmoving from where he was leaning on the wall, and Sakura crossed her arms. Her days of trying to decipher his grunts were over; if he wanted to say something he’d have to use actual words. She raised an eyebrow at him, stifling a smile as he snorted, apparently having understood her silent protest. “Come eat with me. I made too much food.”

His wording was a little off but it was still major progress from the closed-off boy he’d used to be, Sakura thought fondly. Then her brain caught up with the fact he’d invited her to have dinner with him and she had to look away, choosing to focus on a few of the manila folders sitting on her right side. As she straightened them out, making sure they were perfectly aligned with both the desk and each other, she cleared her throat. “Um, yeah, sure, that’d be nice.” When she finally glanced back at him there was something in his eyes she couldn’t quite read. “Thank you for offering.”

Sasuke shrugged, shifting his weight slightly, and looked around the room. “You done?”

Sakura bit her lip and it took everything in her not to fidget. She could certainly find something to keep her busy if she looked for it, like a last minute patient or a nurse who needed help; those were always easy to find. And on any other night that was precisely what she would’ve done. But tonight Sasuke was here and he wanted to have dinner with her, and as anxious as the idea made her, she was also looking forward to it. She threw him a small smile and pushed herself away from the desk. “Yeah, all done.”

Sasuke grunted once again, in response to which she reached to poke him in the ribs; no grunting on her watch. He let out an amused huff and Sakura’s smile grew as the two of them headed towards the main entrance. She couldn’t help but think how weird it was that spending time with Sasuke felt so normal. She’d expected there to be a certain awkwardness, all things considered, and while there had been in the beginning, it had all but dissipated by now. Yet another example of how much better their platonic relationship was as opposed to the one-sided crush she’d had, she thought.

When she glanced at Sasuke out of the corner of her eye, she was surprised to find he was already looking at her. “What?”

He didn’t move his gaze for a while and once he finally did, Sakura realized she’d been subconsciously holding her breath. “You get lost in your head a lot,” he said simply without offering any more explanation. He didn’t need to, anyway, she knew exactly what he meant.

“Sorry.” She threw him a sheepish grin and had to resist the urge to rub the back of her neck; she refused to completely turn into Kakashi. The ghost of a smile on Sasuke’s lips told her he knew exactly what she’d been thinking which made her grin widen. “I promise for the rest of the night I’ll be one hundred percent present.”

Sasuke didn’t offer a verbal response, something Sakura was about to tease him for, when she spotted Shizune talking to Kira-san on the front desk. She glanced at them and raised a finger to signal Sasuke she’d be just a moment; then she moved to approach the two women.

“Hey,” she smiled and nodded in greeting before turning to Shizune as the nurse moved to give them some privacy. “Do you need my help with anything? I wanted to check with you before I head out.”

The look Shizune gave her had Sakura raising her hands and hurrying to explain; she didn’t want Shizune thinking she was shrinking her duties or anything of the sort. “My shift ended a few hours ago, but if you need me then of course I’ll stay--”

The woman laughed, hands coming to rest over Sakura’s. “I know, I know. I was just surprised you’re voluntarily leaving, that’s all; I’m pretty sure Naruto-kun had to drag you away last time.”

The memory made Sakura flush as she recalled Naruto insisting she was overworking herself and quite literally carrying her out of the hospital; while she appreciated the concern, it was embarrassing. “Yes, well…” She trailed off and her gaze slid to Sasuke who was patiently waiting for her by the doors. He raised both his eyebrows when he caught her gaze and she shook her head before turning back to Shizune, not quite managing to contain her smile.

“Ah, I get it now.” Shizune’s tone was teasing but the warmth in it was unmistakable and Sakura’s flush became even more apparent.

“It’s not like that, Shizune, don’t tease me,” she laughed it off. “Not you too.” She’d been getting suggestive looks and wry smirks for at least a month now and she wasn’t sure how many more times she could repeat the phrase ‘we’re just friends’. She wasn’t mad, she knew nobody meant anything by it, but she could definitely go without it as well.

Shizune’s smile turned apologetic. “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.” She glanced down the hallway behind Sakura and let out a semi-amused breath. “You better get going before there’s an emergency and you end up staying here the whole night.”

Sakura snorted in agreement before saying her goodbyes. Finally, she returned to Sasuke’s side. “Okay, now I’m really all done.”

He held the door open for her, a gesture that would’ve made her past self swoon. If she was being perfectly honest it made her swoon now as well, but she told herself it was only natural. She would’ve enjoyed it regardless of the person.

“Are you inviting Naruto?” she spoke up once they’d started walking. As far as she was aware they were headed towards Sasuke’s new apartment at the centre of the village and while it wasn’t far from the hospital, she didn’t want them to spend the walk in silence.

Her question made him huff as he glanced at her, amused. “I said I made too much food but not that much.”

She shook her head at the familiar teasing but there was also a side of her that grew even more anxious now that he’d more or less confirmed it would just be the two of them. It was fine, though, it really was. Friends had dinner together all the time. It was fine.

“How’s work at the hospital?”

It wasn’t the question itself that surprised her rather than the fact he’d asked it at all. She quickly tried to shake the surprise off, however, and simply shrugged. “Not a lot going on right now, but that’s good news.” She paused, considering. “Of course there’s still a ton of paperwork, but at least I also have some more time to do research. Actually, Hinata’s been letting me have a closer look at the Byakugan and it’s really fascinating.”

She wasn’t about to go into detail about her findings for one because the information was only to be kept inside the Hyuga clan and for another, most people would find it boring even if she could talk about it. In any case, Sasuke was a smart man, she had no doubt he’d understand the secrecy around the Hyugas’ bloodline limit.

He seemed to hesitate for a moment before glancing away, looking anywhere but at her as he spoke. “I don’t mind if you want to research the Sharingan.”

Sakura actually stopped walking for a moment out of sheer shock. The Uchihas were notoriously secretive when it came to their bloodline limit, even moreso than the Hyugas. For Sasuke to say this to her…

“I wasn’t trying to imply--” she started to say once she remembered to keep walking but he simply sighed, cutting her off before she’d had the chance to explain she hadn’t mentioned Hinata in some attempt to rope Sasuke into letting her do the same to him.

“Sakura. What you find will benefit me as well,” was all he said and she could feel her heartbeat slowly return to its normal pace. That made perfect sense; of course he’d want to know more about the Sharingan, especially since he was the last living Uchiha. She was overthinking everything, as usual. Sasuke cleared his throat and although his voice was quiet, Sakura heard him perfectly. “I trust you.”

“Oh.” Even if she’d wanted to, she couldn’t have helped her wide smile. There were a lot of things she could say in return, from Thank you to I trust you too, but she had a feeling Sasuke still wasn’t completely used to being so open with his emotions and she didn’t want to scare him off. Baby steps, she reminded herself. “Okay then. Whenever you’re free you can stop by the hospital and we can get started. Just make sure to let me know beforehand.”

Sasuke gave a sharp nod and after a beat proceeded to surprise her yet again. “Are you free tomorrow?”

She fumbled for a response, letting out a small, unsure chuckle as she did. “Um, sure. Does noon work for you?”

This time the nod was the only answer she received and before he could throw any more curveballs at her, she found they’d reached his apartment. He unlocked the door easily enough -- Sakura would forever be jealous of doors which didn’t need prodding and punching to open, unlike her own -- and led her to the dining room. The apartment wasn’t big but Sakura liked that about it; she had a feeling Sasuke did too. Somehow it had a homey feel to it, despite the scarce decorations. Perhaps it was because there was a bit of Team Seven scattered around every room -- a few of Kakashi’s books were resting on a shelf in the dining room which also served as a living room, the bathroom smelled of kiwi and mango, courtesy of Sakura leaving a spare bottle of shampoo in case she needed to sleep over, and she also knew for a fact that the fridge was well-stocked with instant ramen. In any case, whatever it was, it made her feel at home. She had to imagine Sasuke felt the same way, despite his actual childhood home being on the other side of the village. He’d mentioned to her a few weeks back that it felt more like a graveyard than a home, and her heart had broken for him.

“Here,” he said as he entered the room, placing one plate on the table in front of Sakura and one right across of it, where he took a seat. “It’s omusubi.”

Sakura could see that but she also knew what he really meant; it was basically the equivalent of him asking if it was an acceptable meal. She gave him a small smile. “It looks lovely.” And it really did. She could spot fish flakes and what appeared to be tomatoes, and she found herself thinking this was a very Sasuke-like meal. “Itadakimasu.”

Sasuke echoed her words and the two of them proceeded to eat in silence -- strangely enough, Sakura didn’t feel any of the unease she’d expected. This was technically the first time she and Sasuke dined together, just the two of them, and it was actually a nice change of pace. With Naruto there was always this sense of urgency to their meal, especially seeing how quick he was to finish his food. Sasuke, on the other hand, took his time.

She remembered how he’d be just as fast as Naruto back in their childhood, matching his pace with ease, but she also assumed that had been merely a part of the rivalry the two of them shared. Now things were different. While the rivalry was still there, Sakura liked to think it had taken a turn for the better.

“There’s anmitsu in the fridge,” Sasuke said some time later, eyes not moving from the rice ball he was holding with his chopsticks. His tone was even, as if describing the weather, but Sakura couldn’t help staring. While that was one of her favourite foods, he hated sweets. She knew that because back when she was young and crushing on him, she’d made a point to catalogue all of his likes and dislikes. And sweets definitely fell into the latter category.

It made no sense unless he’d developed a sweet tooth during all those years away from Konoha, a thought that made her unreasonably sad. She knew he’d changed, she wasn’t stupid, but there was something about the idea of not knowing him as well as she used to that unsettled her.

And that was precisely why they were doing the friendship thing, she reminded herself. To get to know each other better. So she hummed in a way she hoped seemed casual enough and swallowed the last of her food before replying. “I didn’t know you liked sweets.”

The amusement was plain in his eyes though the rest of his face remained impassive. “I don’t.”

“Oh.”

Her response, or the lack of thereof, seemed to amuse him even further, but there was also that same flash of fondness she’d thought she’d imagined earlier. He didn’t say anything else as he too finished his meal until at last, he stood up and moved to go to the kitchen. Sakura watched as he disappeared behind the door only to return a few moments later with a small bowl of anmitsu.

“Wait, you also made this?” When he’d mentioned having sweets she’d assumed he’d just bought them. Sasuke grunted in response and she couldn’t even find it in herself to get mad. “Wow. I-- Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me before you’ve made sure it’s edible,” he said dryly but she could see the careful way he was watching her as she tried the dessert.

She didn’t know what she expected but it was good. Everything tasted just as it was supposed to and she smiled. “It’s great, Sasuke, thank you. Not just for dessert but the whole meal. And,” she added with a laugh, “for getting me out of the hospital.”

A snort of amusement and another easy silence fell upon the room. Sakura took the opportunity to get another look around. Sure, she’d been there before with Naruto and Kakashi for team bonding or something of the sort, but now, with nothing else to do, she found her eyes drifting. Not entirely surprising that they landed on a picture, the only one she could see, standing innocently on a small coffee table. Their old genin photo.

It was Naruto who had given it to Sasuke, frame and all, upon his return, but the mere fact he’d kept it and displayed so openly had warmth blooming in Sakura’s chest. They had different teams now and Sai and Yamato were without a doubt part of their little family but even so, the four of them -- herself, Sasuke, Naruto and Kakashi -- had something that felt special.

Sasuke noticed her gaze, naturally, but he didn’t say anything. She had a strong feeling he didn’t like to think about those times, regardless of all the good parts, and she respected that; one thing she’d learnt as a medic was that everyone coped in different ways.

“Once again, thank you for the meal,” she repeated as she set the now empty bowl down on the table, suddenly unsure of what to do with her hands. She ended up clasping them in her lap in order to resist fidgeting. “I guess I better get going now. I have an early shift tomorrow and you can imagine what those are like.” She’d stood up at some point and now had to bite her lip to stop talking; she could feel the words bubbling up under the surface and she didn’t think Sasuke would appreciate her rambling.

“I’ll walk you.”

He was also standing, moving around the table to stand in front of her, and she blinked up at him. “Are you sure?” She didn’t add that she could take care of herself because if after everything they’d been through he still didn’t see that then there wasn’t much else she could do. And besides, she had a feeling he hadn’t offered in some misguided attempt to protect her; Naruto usually walked her home after every little gathering they attended, and when he wasn’t able to, Kakashi did it instead under the excuse he was headed in the same direction as her anyway. Hell, even Sai had walked her on one memorable occasion which nearly ended with him in the hospital.

Thus, she concluded, Sasuke was just being a good friend. Still, she didn’t want him to feel as though he had to simply because other members of their team did.

He looked at her in a way that said plenty; if she had to interpret it as just one sentence, however, it would be something along the lines of Of course I’m sure, I wouldn’t have offered otherwise. Another smile grew on her lips and distinctly she remembered Ino saying something about how she’d been smiling a lot lately.

The walk to her apartment was, unsurprisingly, silent. But Sasuke didn’t seem to be in a hurry, matching her slower pace without complaint, and when she felt the heat of his body by her side, she realized they were walking closer than usual too.

Upon reaching the door, she turned to face him. “Thank you for walking me.”

He was about to respond with another grunt, she could feel it, but when he saw her raised eyebrow, his lips twitched in amusement. “You’re welcome.”

Pleased, she turned back around to face the door and was about to insert the key when her mouth opened without her permission. “Would you like to come inside?” She froze, scrunching her nose at her stupidity, and took a breath before looking over her shoulder at Sasuke who hadn’t moved an inch. “For, uh, tea?”

She watched his face carefully, ready to backtrack the second he showed any sign of annoyance, and promptly stopped breathing when he smiled. It was only a half-smile, granted, but it was the closest to a genuine one she’d seen from him and it was directed at her. It softened all his features and even his dark eyes, which had seemed so emotionless a few years ago, now appeared warm.

“Yes,” was all he said and her heart skipped a beat.

So much for platonic feelings.

#blesseth writes #sasusaku #naruto #multisakumonth #a very very late entry

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michael-hearteyes-wheeler · 6 years

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As Strange As it Seems

[1] [2]

Chapter 3: Saddle up, Partner!

Read on (AO3) or (FF.net)

[A/N] So, fun fact, I made three moodboards for this fic, and I wanted to find a way to use each of them. Im calling this phase of the fic ‘Act II’, and this moodboard fits the tone better than the original one. I hope its not too confusing lol! And I hope you enjoy chapter three.

The week that followed, went on much the same as opening day. Hot, humid, big crowds, 'Saddle up, Partner', a lunch break that was really just a mad dash to shove something into your face, and then it was off to the rides with Max.

Mostly it was fine. And getting that first paycheck, that was pretty great too, but by far the best part of everyday was right before closing. When the sky turned pink and orange, and the sounds of laughing crowds faded, leaving only the constant calliope jingles to be heard. By Wednesday Max didn't even have to ask for Lucas to join. He would just hop over the counter and they would cross different things off of her checklist. By Friday they had ridden the Scrambler 8 times, and all of the kiddy rides at least a dozen times each.

Still, he was unsure of what to call their relationship. Were they friends? Was she only spending time with him because no one else would agree? Was he overthinking everything? (Probably, yes to the last one, for sure).

The answer, to at least some of his questions, came in an odd form on the last day of the first week.

Saturday had been essentially a repeat of each day before, the only difference was that there was a live performance of some magician happening in the evening. 'Great Value brand Mind-Freak' as Dustin had referred to him. Which was, all things considered, pretty accurate. But it also meant that most of the rides, as well as the midway would be closing early, and that during the 'pre-show' show, Lucas's lunch break was extended to a full hour. A gift from god himself.

Lucas decided that a milkshake sounded pretty good. But, then again, so did the idea of a bucket of ice getting dumped on his head. He made his was towards the cart he had come to frequent over the last several days.

"Aw hey, to what do I owe the pleasure?" Dustin grinned toothily from behind the food stands sliding glass window. He had his curly mop of hair pulled back in a messy ponytail to help keep off some of the heat. He wore a little paper hat with the fairs logo, and a striped polo that reminded Lucas of something an old timey barber might wear.

"It's my break, I just came to beat the heat." Lucas looked past his friend into the little booth, wear a row of slushie machines sat churning their sweet treats.

"Well come on in then!" Dustin disappeared from his place behind the window, and popped out of a small door a moment later, gesturing for Lucas to follow.

The space inside the cart was small, and what little floor space there was was covering in shipment boxes of food. A giant fan sat on the back wall above a small window, and a cooling breeze pushed its way through the space. There was a bubbling deep fryer for elephant ears, and another one for curly fries. There was a big class cooler with buckets of ice cream inside, and a long counter covered in sprinkles that didn't quite hit their target.

Lucas found a place to sit on top of a couple of sturdier boxes, and Dustin busted around the cart, like a well tuned machine, making them both milkshakes all without breaking conversation.

"I swear, some of these people have to be millionaires. $5 for a large fry!? You have to be kidding me! That's really the only perk though, that I get to eat for free." Dustin handed Lucas his shake before leaning against the counter opposite him.

"At least your job has a perk. I just have to stand there all day and press a button a thousand times." Lucas leaned back against the cool metal walls of the cart. He only then realized how sore his feet were.

"Don't sweat it, you get to close up early and run around while i'm still in here slaving away." Dustin paused to take a sip from his shake. "And besides, I can't think of a pretty good perk that you have."

Lucas furrowed his brows. "And what might that be?"

"You work directly across from Max! I'll bet you anything that the two of you fall in love before the end of the summer." Dustin winked and Lucas groaned.

"First of all, that's ridiculous. Second of all, we both just like rides. It's not like we get to just hang out all day, unless I yelled across the walkway, and that would just be weird."

"Look, ill i'm saying is that on your break you could have gone and chatted up a cool girl, but instead you came and talked to me." Lucas could feel a headache coming on from the amount of eye rolling he was doing. Why had he come here in the first place?

"Alright, Henderson, time for our switch." A voice called gruffy from the back of the cart. The boys turned to look at the woman who was clambering through the cramped space. She was older, with grey blonde hair pulled up into a hair net, and the face of a bulldog. An unlit cigarette dangled from her lips.

"Thanks Susan!" Dustin said as he hurriedly grabbed his things, and motioned for Lucas to follow. Lucas watched Susan give him an uneasy look up and down before turning to the window.

As soon as they were outside, Dustin untucked his polo shirt, and tossed his already finished shake into the trash.

"Thats Susan. She's one tough nut to crack. I used some of my best food puns on her, and nothing! Not even a chuckle!"

"Well yeah, if they were your food puns then im sure not." Lucas joked, elbowing his friend in the ribs as they walked.

"Haha very funny. You wanna go see Will? I think the backstage has AC."

"Hell yeah!"

They backstage did have AC. It hit them both like a wall, stepping into utter paradise. It looked a lot different than it did the first time they had walked through. The cavernous room was filled with people rushing back and forth across its cement floor. People yelling things at one another, people hoisting things up on ropes, and Will himself painting lazily in the corner, looking bored out of his mind, across from a wildly gesticulating Mike.

"Will Byers!" Lucas hollered, cupping his hands around his mouth to make his voice boom through the space. Nearly everyone turned and scowled at him before continuing about their business.

"Oh! Hey guys, what's going on?" Will set down his paintbrush, and wiped his hands on his apron. Mike stopped whatever he had been going on about and turned to wave at them.

"We were hot," Dustin plopped down on the cool ground at Will's feet. "And Susan scares me, so we came here to bother you."

"Well, there isn't anything interesting going on here." Will shrugged. He looked... off. Sad Maybe? Disappointed? Lucas couldn't quite place it. He made a mental note to ask him later. "But you could probably hide out here all day. I'm still not even sure who is in charge back here."

"William, I might just take you up on that." Dustin leaned against a large wooden crate, arms tucked behind his head and legs outstretched.

They all sat and talked for the rest of Lucas's break. It was nice, catching up, and it affirmed what he already knew to be true. That it really was more fun that they had agreed to join him. If it weren't for his friends being there to hang out with, he would probably have just been standing around the Midway like an idiot. That, or be off spending his entire paycheck at the arcade.

"And then, he got off the ride and basically fell over the edge! He was passed out for like five minutes! I thought we were going to have to call the paramedics." Mike was telling them a story about one of their old Middle School bullies, who handled the Tilt-A-Whirl with the grace of a dying whale. They were all howling with laughter. "The best part is that his date didn't even wait for him! She just went home!"

"Serves him right!" Dustin chuckled, wiping a tear from his eye. "God I wish I could have seen that."

"It was pretty great. Definitely blows the Hotdog Incident out of the water." He finger quoted the words and Will smirked up at him.

Just then, Lucas's watch beeped. He sighed, and stood up, dusting his jeans off. "Alright guys, I gotta get back out there. Are you all going to watch the show?"

"Yeah, may as well." Mike shrugged and Dustin nodded. Will looked like he wanted to say something, but he didnt.

"Cool, i'll find you guys later then."

Lucas made his way back through the fairgrounds, passing happy families and rambunctious teenagers, towards the shooting gallery. He made the trek take as long as possible, shuffling his feet slowly across the dirt pathways. By the time he got back to the midway, the crowds had mostly cleared out. People were already flocking to the stage, wanting to find the best places to stand to watch whatever bogus tricks would be performed. Lucas imagined a lot of smoke and mirrors and sequins. As he neared the game booths, he couldn't help but look up as he passed by Max's stand. His heart dropped momentarily when he saw that she wasn't behind the sunbleached counter, and instead some other bored looking teenager stood in her place.

It wasn't until he turned the corner to his own booth that he saw where exactly she had run off too.

Max was sitting on the shooting gallery counter, swinging her tanned legs casually and drinking from a bottle of orange soda that almost matched her hair in color. When she saw Lucas in the corner of her eye, she turned and smirked.

"Your break ended ten minutes ago." She scolded playfully, hopping from the counter.

"Uh yeah I know I... Had to wait in a long line for the bathrooms." Lucas winced at his own lame excuse. Smooth, Sinclair, really smooth. He didn't think that taking his sweet time on the walk back would affect anyone he actually cared about. Not that he cared about Max, no not at all (aside from the fact that he cared a lot).

"Shame on you, Lucas, look at all of these customers just begging to shoot something!" Max gestured out at the completely empty space around the booth mockingly. "You have deprived them of a good time, and now their entire trip is ruined all because of your small bladder."

Lucas felt himself smile as her condescending facade faded into a giggle. "Sorry Miss Mayfield, i'll make sure to keep my bladder in check next time."

Max laughed hard at that, and it was a sound that made Lucas's face feel hot. "See that you do. You wanna make it up to me?"

"Sure, how?"

"Let me kick your ass in a shooting contest." She patted the top of one of the plastic guns.

"You can try, but I hate to break it to you, i'm the best sharp shooter in Roane County." Lucas crossed his arms in defiance. He really was good, if not on his credentials shooting tin cans with his wrist rocket as a kid, then the week of practice he had amassed working here would surely secure his victory.

"We'll see about that, wont we?" Max flipped her hair over her shoulder as she took her place behind the player 2 shotgun. Lucas smiled and followed suit. After they were both in position, Lucas leaned over the counter and pressed the little red start button hidden underneath.

"Saddle up, Partner." Max and Lucas both spoke along with the games droning prerecording, having heard it a million times before. It made them both laugh before they fixed their rifles in their hands. Then, a western themed song played, and it was off to the races.

Little cardboard cutouts of sharp shooters and bandits would flip up with a number telling you how many points each hit was worth. Some moved slowly and were easy to hit, others flipped up for only a few seconds before flipping back down again. However, it's not exactly that simple, because hitting the cowboy, his horse, or a barmaid will deduct points.

Max and Lucas were firing at full speed. Each turning and aiming, the barrel of their guns crossing on a couple of occasion as Lucas went for a 10 point bandit, and Max went for a 15 point burglar.

"Stay on your side, Stalker!" Max hissed, determination and excitement in her voice.

"I will if you-" Bang "Do!" Lucas taunted back.

Lucas felt pretty confident, there weren't many targets he was missing, and he only hit the Cowboy once. It was probably his best game so far. Max was doing pretty well too. Aiming low and high, getting heavily invested and cheering after she caught the big 50 pointer that flashes up only for a split second. They were both laughing and bumping into one another before;

"That's some sharp shooting, buckaroo!" The game signaled that the round was over. Each cutout lowered back into place, and they returned their guns to the stands on the counter. They were both panting slightly, grinning from ear to ear. At least until Lucas looked up at the scoreboard.

Player 1: 445 - Player 2: 560

"Holy shit!" Max cheered, "I totally owned you!" She threw her arms up and spun in a small circle. Lucas's mouth just hung open. "Oh man, like I mean, I knew I was going too, but you weren't even close!" She punched his arm.

"Jeez, someone is really a sore winner." Lucas chastised and Max threw her head back in a loud cackling laugh. The same laugh that she always had when they were whirling together on rides.

"I can't help it!" She giggled, "You are just so fun to beat. Your face gets all confused and then you scrunch your eyebrows together."

Lucas felt his eyebrows, involuntarily, press together.

"Yeah, like that!" She laughed again and flicked his forehead. If it had been anyone else, he probably would have smacked their hand away.

"Yeah yeah yeah, congratulations or whatever, are we even now?" Lucas crossed his arms, watching her dance in place celebratorily.

"Totally even, I mean, i'm still going to gloat about this for the rest of today, and maybe forever, but we are even." She lifted her chin, looking proud.

"Until I find something I can beat you at."

"Is that a threat, Stalker? Video games are kind of the only thing i'm good at, and i'm really good."

Something really honest past through her eyes at this last rib. He realized that he had never heard Max say anything even remotely self-deprecating before. Not even to be funny. It was strange. It felt off.

"Hey, that's not even fair, you are good at lots of things, maybe just... extra good at video games."

Max looked at him puzzled for a moment. She was still smiling, but her eyes peered deeply into his own, shifting back and forth, almost like she was reading him.

"Okay. Maybe just extra good." She grimaced, her mouth turning downward crookedly.

He felt as though he had stepped into some sort of weird, uncomfortable, territory.

"I will find something to beat you at though. One day." He smiled as earnestly as possible, and let himself slouch against the counter, wanting to change the energy of the situation.

"Well," She slouched beside him, her face shifting back to a more normal, playful one, "If that day ever comes, then i'll owe you big time."

"Oh yeah? Like what?"

Her face shifted yet again. She was closer to him now, looking up at him. He could see the small flecks of green that framed her brilliant, blue eyes. How had he never noticed that before? She was looking... Mischievous. Like she had a secret she was just dying to tell.

"I will tell you when and if that day comes, Stalker, but for now, you have made me miss some of my lunch break." She punched his arm, again, and pushed herself off of the counter.

"Hey, you were the one who wanted to play!" He hollered as she began walking back towards the main part of the fair.

She didn't respond, or if she did, he didnt hear it, but his heart buzzed in his ears. That small exchange had told him... well, nothing really. If anything it just gave him more questions. Max was always making him second guess and over think things. Which was, admittedly, really out of character for him. He was always the 'level-headed' friend. The one who said 'No, Dustin, you shouldn't try to eat a burger in one bite.' and 'No, Mike, you shouldn't spend all weekend trapped in the basement, come have fun.' It kind of alarmed him, actually, the fact that she could waltz over to him, flash a smile, and his brain would turn into mush. He sighed, and hopped over the counter back into his station.

The midway closed soon after that. There were just no crowds to try to sell too, and the entire carnival was basically empty save for the Main Stage. Lucas walked off after being relieved for the night, and he met up with Dustin as soon as the food cart closed. Together they found Mike, and then Mike found El and Max. Soon the entire group was on a mission, searching high (and mostly low) for Will. If he was somewhere deeper in the crowd, the thought of finding him would have to be dashed, but he made himself be found in a way that left the entire group reeling.

Will Byers. On stage, dressed in some ridiculous, blue velvet suit, being locked inside of a gaudy box by the magician.

The group was at a loss, silent and in awe, just like the rest of the crowd, but for very different reasons. Will had always been shy. More a behind the scenes sort of personality. It was immediately agreed upon that he had either been bribed, blackmailed, or hypnotized.

Will stepped out from behind a curtain. The Magician introduced him to the crowd as 'The Invisible boy!' He was asked to step inside of a huge rectangular box in the middle of the stage. Everything about Will, the Magician, and the box shimmered in the dusk lighting. Lucas had been right about the sequins, there was no denying that. Will did as he was asked, looking less 'mystified', and more just terrified.

The Magician tapped on the box several times, spinning it around, then spinning it again to show it was a solid structure. Then, he said some sort of magical word gibberish, and swung the door open. Only Will, and his very horrible suit, were gone. In his place was a beautiful and busty woman wearing a swimsuit version of that blue velvet ensemble.

The crowd went nuts, and so did the Party, but again, for very different reasons. Max and Dustin both cupped their hands around their mouths to let out loud and ear piercing applause, before Max grabbed Lucas by the hand, and pulled him towards the backstage area. He could feel the others behind him, but mostly he could just feel Max holding his hand tightly.

They found Will in the dressing room, hanging his suit delicately onto a hanger. He looked green with nausea, and pink with embarrassment all at the same time.

"William Byers!" Dustin gasped.

"Please, please for the love of god, tell me you weren't watching the show." Will groaned somberly.

"Oh, we watched buddy, and you killed it! Who knew royal blue was your color!"

"I didn't kill anything. I just looked like an idiot and walked into a box." Will rolled his eyes.

"You didn't look like an idiot," Mike placed a hand on Will's shoulder. "It was... surprising, but cool. Why did you go out there?"

"I guess the normal assistant for that part never showed up, and i'm the only person small enough to fit through the trap door." He shrugged.

"Trap doors!? Thats awesome! You have to give me a secret tour." Max winked at him and mussed his hair like a mom. That made him smile as he smoothed his hair back into place. Max speaking made Lucas realize that she was still holding his hand tightly. She must have noticed too, because she dropped it, and stuck her hand in her pocket.

"Yeah, sure, maybe. Can we just go? It's going to be crazy getting out of here." Will sometimes did this thing where he would anxiously bounce in place. It was nowhere near the level of twitching and bouncing that Mike often demonstrated, but it was his own version of it. And that's how he looked now, his flush face, and hair bouncing as his eyes flickered to the exit.

It made Lucas remember that sad expression he had worn when they saw him backstage. Was this the reason? Being forced out of his comfort zone? Either way, they all nodded and followed him outside.

"Sure, whatever you say, Invisible boy."

Will just groaned.

The group made their way out into the parking lot. It was basically silent. The only sounds were the 'oo's' and 'aa's' coming from the crowd still inside the gates. It had become a routine for the girls to walk with them to the van, before deciding it was really time to go home, and walking to Max's own car. It was nice, and the conversations they all shared before splitting lasted longer and longer each day.

El was talking about someone who came through the ticket line and had made a big fuss about the price. They all commiserate with her and laughed at her jokes. She was surprisingly really funny, in an understated sort of way. Unlike Dustin, who told a story about some kid who wanted sour apple sherbet and vanilla ice cream, and they all laughed about that too. It felt so... natural. Like they all got along, and the conversation never fell into awkward silence or a dead lull. Not with personalities like Dustin and Max, who bickered over basically everything as if they were old chums. Somewhere the path of the conversation had become skewed to comic's, and it was all downhill from there.

"Dustin, shut up, seriously, if I hear you say one more thing about the MCU im going to kick you." Max rolled her eyes and laughed.

"I'm just saying! It's an objectively better franchise with objectively better narratives!"

"Yeah, I think we all caught that. I even like Marvel movies, and you are making me want to pull my hair out." She flipped her hair back over her shoulder, as if to prove a point, and turned away from him to Lucas. They were sitting on the floor of the van through the open sliding door. "Anyway, Stalker, I have to go before I kill your friend."

"Hey, it's your life, you can kill whoever you want."

"You promise you would still be my friend after?" She put a hand in front of her mouth, as if to keep it a secret, although she still talked loud enough for anyone to hear. Mike chuckled and Dustin sighed.

"Max, if you did something to shut Dustin up? I might be your best friend."

"Alright, it's settled then," She clapped her hands together. "Dustin your days are numbered, El you have been replaced."

"Oh get bent, Maxine." El teased back. El was currently leaning into Mike, who had one arm wrapped around her shoulders, and one arm wrapped around Will's shoulders.

Max popped up from her seat next to Lucas with a smirk, pinching El on the arm. "Let's get out of here, lover girl, I can feel them destroying my last good brain cells." And then she sauntered off, her hair swishing back and forth.

"You know," El began as she stepped out from under Mike's arm, "She only insults people that she likes." And then El was off too, waving goodbye and following her friend to their car.

"Jeez, Dustin, then you must be her favorite." Will said with a grin.

"Hey now, I like Max as much as the next guy, but I think we all know who her favorite is." Dustin gave Lucas a shove as he moved past him into the van.

He didn't respond, not being able to think of a good enough comeback, and he let himself smile. Everyone took their normal seats, and they set off just as the sun dipped below the horizon.

The drive back to Hawkins each day felt as though it was getting faster and faster. Maybe it was because of Will's expertly made playlists, or maybe it was just that they had now made the drive seven times. Either way, it was a nice and fulfilling experience to watch the sky get darker, as the long stretches of farmland faded into quiet suburban neighborhoods.

Before he knew it, Dustin was pulling onto Maple Street, and he and Mike were jumping out of the car.

It was now their first official weekend off of work. The fair was closed on Sundays and Mondays, and the group was looking forward to not doing much of anything. They had talked passively somewhere around Thursday at having a movie night, but if those plans fell through, Lucas probably wouldn't complain. He was looking forward to just sleeping in, and maybe using his paycheck to buy some better shoes for standing in.

When he walked inside, His dad was sitting in the easy chair in the living room watching some History channel documentary. His mom was in the kitchen washing up from supper. He heard the TV go silent and took a seat at the breakfast table in front of a plate of leftovers.

"Hey, son, how was work?" His dad bellowed.

"It was good!" He replied through a mouthful of mashed potatoes.

"Oh! I saved you a plate from din-" His mom turned around from the sink, "Oh well look at you, are you eating enough at work? Do I need to start sending you with a lunch?" His mom was always the type to fus about whether or not he was eating enough. She was a great cook, so the answer was almost always yes.

"Im fine, Ma, dont worry about it."

"Okay, well you just let me know." She turned back to the sink. "Work is going well? You and your friends are having a good time?"

"And what about you girlfriend?" Lucas eyes shot up to where his little sister, Erica, was spying on him from the stairs.

"Shut up, Erica! You- You don't even... That's not!" He stuttered, dropping his fork back onto his plate. "Why do you-"

"You should know by now that I hear everything." Erica walked into the kitchen and stole one of his diner rolls.

"Erica! Leave your brother alone, and I think you have had enough bread today." His mom scolded, ringing her hands on a rag.

"It's not my fault he talks so loud!" She shrugged, and turned to stomp back upstairs. He liked his little sister a lot, but she was probably the nosiest person he had ever met.

"I- I don't have a girlfriend." Lucas crossed his arms, suddenly feeling not hungry at all.

"Mmmhmm." His mom hummed.

"Mom! I don't!"

"That's fine, I didn't say anything. Now you wash up before bed, you smell like a churro." She pinched his check and walked into the living room.

Lucas sighed, but he smiled to himself. He finished his food and washed his plate, and all the while he thought about Max. He realized that she had said they were friends, and that made him want to dance in place the same way she had after beating him at the Shooting Gallery. It was an affirmation to at least one of the dozens of questions he had about her.

That at the very least, they were friends. And that was good enough for him, figuring that was as far as he was ever going to get.

At least for now.

Tagging: @stranger-things85 @bestcoastisthewestcoast@she-who-the-river-could-not-hold @dustinhendrsn @samchamberlain @paladin-wheeler@peachysteve @summer-in-hawkins @elliehops @midnightmillie @el-hopper @puzzlingsnark@zerodoubleone@lumaxfanfictionarchive @bob-newby-superhero @sweet-sugar-sunsets @caseyk112

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