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imaginethebeautifulworld · 3 years

Note

Let’s say England has a long-term girlfriend he knows isn’t the biggest fan of marriage bc her family had been really really pushy (before she got the heck out of dodge) about her marrying + reproducing ASAP. How might he react if she came to him and said she was kinda starting to like the general concept of marrying him — that is, the whole ‘together forever’ bit. Thanks!

I confess darling that I have been trying to finish this prompt for well over a year, and I offer my sincerest apologies that it’s taken me this long to finish it. Still, despite my tardiness, I hope you enjoy, and I thank you for your patience with me.

You had never intended to fall in love, not with the constant push of your relatives to fall in line like a perfect child.

First, marriage to someone they deemed acceptable, raising the perfect 2.5 children, followed by quietly settling into parenthood and complaisant contentment until the day you last drew breath.

Truth of the matter was, you had avoided all chances of romance for the first few years after you moved away from home, carefully slipping away from anyone who seemed remotely interested in you.

You knew your folks would have disproved such behaviour had they learnt the truth, but you couldn’t find it in your heart to care. You had your own dreams to pursue, your own story to tell, your own life to live; you didn't need someone by your side to feel complete.

You were happy as you were, finding enjoyment in your work and figuring out your place in the world.

You didn’t need, or frankly want, anything more than that.

That was of course until you met him.

Falling in love with Arthur Kirkland had been a complete accident. He slipped past all of your defenses and took up residence in your heart as if he had always belonged there.

It started out slow enough; at first you simply knew him as a familiar face from the cafe in Waterstones, steaming cup of Darjeeling and a chocolate croissant sitting forgotten on the table in front of him, always too focused on his reading to pay any attention to the outside world. After one particularly crowded Sunday afternoon, he began to transition into your favorite dining companion, the two of you often taking turns paying for each other’s food. Slowly but surely, you began forgetting about your books, too wrapped up in conversation, and before you knew it-

You had come to love every part of him- the gentleman that you begrudgingly introduced to your parents, the rebellious and passionate activist, the cocky and playful little shit who had long ago memorised all the best ways to disarm you, and the ancient soul who cared so deeply, who still stretched himself thin most days in effort to protect each of his loved ones.

You fell in love with his voice, whispering sonnets and sonatas and sweet nothings in your ear while his arms cradled you from behind.

You fell in love with his eyes, still losing your footing sometimes when the light caught them just right, dreaming momentarily of summer forests and grassy glades and the misty dews of spring.

You fell in love with his smiles, from the satisfied grin at stirring up Peter’s ire to the breathless wonder each time you kissed or complimented him, to the bright, beautiful, blinding smile he wore when he was incandescently happy, his entire countenance iridescent from his joy.

You loved him completely- for his devotion, for his sweet gestures, for his damned impishness, for his wit, his sass, and the soft spoken affection.

You loved him: for his patience, for his recklessness, for his resilience, for his possessive pride that was somehow more charming than alarming.

He was unique, an enigma that, even after having lived together for years and dating even longer, kept you on your toes, his energy and random spouts of spontaneity proving to you that, even if you spent one hundred lifetimes with him, he would always remain a puzzle you would never fully solve.

And by God did you want to.

Arthur had stolen your heart away from you before you had even noticed he was close enough to take it, offering his own in its stead.

You had remained reluctant, confided in him your fears about settling down, how much you dreaded becoming trapped in a monotonous rut of tedium. He was quick to reassure you, showing through words and actions far more impassioned and teasing than he had ever shown prior, that an eternity with him could never be boring.

Even on quiet days, like today, with a steady drizzle painting the world in greys, Arthur humming quietly while adding another patch to his denim vest, and no other disturbance apart from the cat’s chittering at the robins playing in a puddle by the iron fence- Even now, you weren’t so much bored as you were pensive.

You had been thinking about a future with him a lot in the past few days, some irrelevant ad on your mobile about wedding venues catching your attention and slithering into the back of your mind.

What kind of wedding would he like? Would Arthur prefer something small and intimate, or would his hubris crave a larger venue, giving him yet another chance to prove to the world that he belonged at your side, no one else? You couldn’t help but wonder if he would wear his uniform or a suit, if he would leave the rats' nest he called a hairstyle untouched, or if he would perhaps slick it back in that way that somehow made the normal rakishness disappear, a confident, refined cavalier standing in his place.

You knew of course that none of this mattered unless you actually talked to him first; as far as you were aware, he was content with the current arrangement, and he respected your views of marriage.

He had known, for a long time, just where the grim outlook stemmed from, and he never breached the subject again.

But now-

You had thought it was enough to hold his love, his faith, his vulnerabilities. But life was so fleeting, and now those few things were no longer enough.

You wanted to wake up every morning next to him, wanted the cheesy partners’ towel and flip flop sets. You wanted the physical reminder that you held his heart, the comforting reminder that he completely possessed your own. You wanted to be by his side forever, holding his hand through the good and the ill, facing new worlds and challenges and the uncertain future together.

You knew the risks, of course.

Marriage to a Nation carried an even heavier burden than the simple oath of “till death do us part.”

No, marrying Arthur would mean weaving your entire lives together, binding you on a spiritual level far surpassing mortality; it would mean sacrificing your chance to ever grow old, to eternally give yourself away: heart, mind, body, and soul.

But this was Arthur, who sang showtunes in the shower, who spent hours making silly faces at the cat, who was ridiculously competitive about Halloween costumes, the man who sat down and memorised the entirety of The Tempest in one night just for the bragging rights.

He already owned your heart, constantly invaded your thoughts and daydreams, and God knew he had long, long ago claimed your body, making certain not a single millimeter of his new territory went unexplored.

Would it really be so bad to give him your soul, too?

Glancing back up, seeing his eyes narrowed in concentration, his fingers handling the needle with expert precision, lips slightly parted, reading glasses fallen halfway down his nose-

You knew your answer.

It was always going to be Arthur for you, only Arthur.

Forever, should he have you.

But now you faced the challenge of telling him that.

It should be simple enough; you really held no more secrets from him, and he no longer bothered trying to hide anything from you. You loved how open you were with one another, cherished the honesty that served as the very foundation to your relationship.

But the truth was that you were terrified.

It had been so long since either of you had spoken of marriage, since the topic was even a thought in your minds, and-

What if he didn't want you anymore?

What if he-

"I can see the steam coming outta your ears."

The unexpected presence of Arthur's voice startled you, eyes darting back over to the very man who was unwittingly tormenting you.

He had barely moved from his earlier position, though his glasses had been pushed up into his hair and he was studying you curiously, if not bemusedly.

"You good there?"

By default, you nearly responded with an affirmative, some playful, lighthearted thing that would have dismissed his concern immediately. You cut yourself off mid-start, then, while shifting to sit properly in the armchair, you decided to push forward. "Can we talk?"

You watched as his expression shifted, revealing his concern as he tied off his thread, setting aside the patchwork and gestured for you to join him on the sofa.

There were a few awkward moments where you took up your favourite positions, Arthur tossing an afghan across the pair of you despite your insistence that you didn't need one, the flicker of a grin as you begrudgingly thanked him, and then shifting around as you both got comfortable, but soon enough-

"Alright, now; talketh at-eth me."

It was impossible to fight the smile his choice of words triggered, a reference to an inside joke so old now that you could scarcely recall its origin. Seeming to deem it a success, his own soft, reassuring smile greeted you.

"Seriously though, luv-" His hand came to rest atop your own, his fingers gently tapping a familiar rhythm against your skin. "What's troubling you?"

You were half-tempted to offer something short of sincerity, something innocuous and mundane that you could both laugh over and forget again within a few hours. Yet, you knew that if you didn't tell him now, didn't ask him now, you would never find the courage again.

"I've been thinking-"

"Ah. A scary premise in its own right."

"Oh, shut up," you retorted to his tease, smacking his arm for his troubles. He rewarded you with a grin, all fondness and mischief. Opting to ignore him, you pressed on, eyes downcast to avoid whatever judgement he may offer.

"As I was trying to say earlier, before I was so rudely interrupted-" The teasing fell off, and the worry crept back in. "I've been thinking. About us."

"O-oh?"

Were you not so consumed by your own anxieties, you would have noticed his stutter, would have seen the sudden tension in his posture, the fear in his eyes. As it was, you were completely oblivious to all of it, and made yourself continue at his prompting.

"I- I think I'm ready."

He mimed the word "ready" to himself, parroting it with utter befuddlement. "For wha-"

"I mean, I know I wasn't for such a long time, and-" Suddenly, you were off, half unhinged. Now that you had admitted the truth aloud, it was all rushing out of you, everything you had come to love about him, everything that-

A finger pressing firmly against your lips stopped you mid-tangent, and when you glanced up to find piercing, blazing emerald focused on you as if you were the very center of the universe, whatever remained of your ramblings disappeared entirely.

"What are you trying to say?"

A simple question, so easy to answer, yet it carried with it the weight of Infinities, demanding nothing save the truth, in its most basic state.

You were lost in his gravity, half-drowning in whatever this new feeling was. It was addicting, another riddle to be solved.

"Marry me."

Time stood still, the words weighing heavily in the space between you, now seemingly insurmountable despite being no more than mere decimeters.

Arthur showed no reaction, revealed no indication that he had even heard your plea, your query, your command, your request, and yet it echoed over and over in your own mind, the tone, the weight, the untimeliness-

Every facet- from your inflection to chosen tempo- crescandoed as an accusation, a mocking symphony that he would reject you, that you would be left with only the haunting strains of your ill-conceived proposal.

And yet-

There was a hesitation in his eyes, the face of a man who wanted wholeheartedly to believe what he had heard, but had been burned far too often in the past to dare allow himself hope.

"You-" His eyebrows furrowed, eyes narrowed as he studied you once more, only for the suspicion to disappear again almost immediately, disbelief swiftly taking its place. "You're serious?"

It was then that you finally read his nervousness, understood the strange emotion reflecting in his eyes.

You had lead him to a precipice, the vast Unknown before you both, and-

And he was just as fragile as you were, even if he was better at hiding it.

You gave his hand a light squeeze, hoping to ground you both, and offered him a nod. “If you’ll have me, anyway.”

His eyes flickered between your own, darting back-and-forth so quickly in search of a lie, of any doubts, of any hint that you were less than certain- yet you knew he would find none of that.

“What about your family?”

The question took you by surprise; in the moment, you had completely forgotten anyone else even existed.

You weighed his question carefully. Marrying Arthur would give your family leave to gloat in self-satisfaction, and you knew with absolutely certainty that they would hold it over your head for the next three decades. But looking into the eyes of the man before you, remembering all that you had already seen and done together, you found that others' opinions no longer mattered, really hadn't mattered in a long, long time.

“I couldn’t care less about them. Arth-”

Whatever you were going to say was forgotten as he closed the remaining distance between you, moving so swiftly that you scarcely had a moment to steady yourself before he captured you in a searing kiss, one of his most passionate by far.

Somehow, despite the suddenness of it all, the initial force, the intensity-

He was being incredibly gentle, and moving slowly enough to almost be more a torment than a treat. Almost.

You found yourself lost in a daze when he finally pulled away, just enough for each of you to catch your breaths, just far enough that he could study you with rapt attention. You could have drowned in his eyes, endless greens magnetizing in their intensity. His hands were still cradling your cheeks, still holding you firmly in place, a not completely foreign expression creasing his features.

You couldn't quite place it, even as your memories shifted desperately in search of its mate.

"'If I'd have you?'" His words, a rhetorical refrain of your own mere moments earlier, were scarcely a shared breath between you, murmured in timbre so low it summoned a shiver. There was the smallest twitch of his lip, his head tilting ever so slightly as more of that damned deviousness made its presence known. "I fully intend to have you regardless, luv. But the formality of it all certainly adds a particular je ne sais quoi, wouldn't you agree?"

You'd be damned if he knew just how that made your heart flutter, if he knew just how much weight that reassurance had lifted from your shoulders.

Carefree, content, you offered a playful smile. "Till death do us part then?"

Arthur no longer bothered trying to restrain his smile, soft and sincere in a way that left you breathless. "I'll love you till even the stars go cold, my dear."

Thanks for reading~

#england x reader #aph england #arthur kirkland x reader #hello lovelies~!#hws england #hetalia england #aph arthur kirkland #hetalia arthur kirkland #hws arthur kirkland #reader insert #hetalia x reader #hello lovelies!#readerfic #thanks for reading!#aph england x reader #hetalia england x reader #hws england x reader

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hoedorokishoto · 3 years

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Trust - Part 5

Shoto Todoroki x Reader

+ Minors DNI

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My lids felt heavy as I struggled to open my eyes to the bright room. The furniture in Hitoshi’s room becoming clear as my vision cleared, and I could take in all my surroundings. A very silent and stoic Mr Aizawa standing by the door, arms crossed, his face unreadable. I pulled the blankets up, becoming aware that I currently only had one of Hitoshi’s shirts on over my underwear. Something I was comfortable showing Hitoshi, but not so much the Erasure Hero.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, his voice deep and even though I knew he wasn’t accusing me of anything I still felt like I was in trouble. Guilt still seemed to be the only emotion I could manage.

“I feel fine. I didn’t have much to drink at all last night.” I answered, trying to laugh off his question.

“Even though I’m not thrilled about the underage drinking, I think you know that isn’t what I meant.”

I knew what he meant, my head dropping to my bare thighs where I fidgeted with the hem of the shirt. Memories of last night came flooding back and I couldn’t help but cringe at the feeling. The feeling of being overwhelmed with all those emotions, feeling things that I wasn’t meant to be feeling.

“I- um, I’ve got it under control now, I’m sorry about what happened last night. I should have um- I- It’s all my fault.” I barely got out before a tear ran down my face.

“Y/N. What happened wasn’t your fault, you and Sen are both almost adults and weren’t doing anything wrong. I think there was just too much alcohol and not enough communication which was the cause of the outburst. Don’t blame yourself for the actions of others.” Mr Aizawa said lowly, walking over and sitting on the desk chair across from me. Despite his gruff exterior, he was one of the most noble men you had ever met. Also, one of the best heroes.

“Um, did… Todoroki. Is he okay?” I asked, heat rising up my neck and making its way across my cheeks. My body betraying me and my intentions of trying to come across cool, calm and collected.

“He went to shower; he didn’t leave you at all last night. I’m sure it was quite cozy with all 3 of you in here last night.” Aizawa stated, standing, and making his way over to the door. He stayed? Why? What could Shoto Todoroki gain from laying on the ground like a dog and guarding me? Was he worried that I was going to have another meltdown and his ice would be able to help?

“Put on some pants, come downstairs. Everyone was worried about you, and they made breakfast.”

“I have to go finish some paperwork because Bakugo and Denki decided to defend you honour last night. Noble but stupid.”

My eyes widened; they really did that for me? I wanted to smile but thought it best to wait before the teacher was out of the room.

When the door clicked, I jumped up and found some spare clothes that I kept here. A pair of leggings that covered my bare thighs and a sweatshirt that added warmth to my cold body. I thought it best to have a quick look at my appearance before leaving the room and scaring any students. Knowing that sometimes my hair could be exceptionally large and in charge. Pleasantly surprised that someone, I would guess Hitoshi had taken off my makeup, and left a thick hair tie on the corner of the mirror, the tie perfect for restraining the small afro that had started to form on my head.

Before I could talk myself out of it, I left the room and headed to the direction of Todoroki’s dorm, wanting to thank him for all his help. My body moving before my mind could decide this might be the worst decision I had ever made.

The knock on the wooden door seemed to echo throughout the hall. The only noise in the empty hallway.

“It’s fine, just say thank you then leave.” I said to myself. Eyes closed and breathing in heavily. My anxiety through the roof. Caught between wanting to thank Todoroki for all his help but also never wanting to see him again because the last time I did, our faces were inches apart and I was hysterically crying. On the verge of an actual mental breakdown.

“Leave? You only just got here.” The voice shocking me out of my thoughts. My fidgeting hands stopping by my sides and going completely still. Maybe if I didn’t move, he wouldn’t notice me, and I could make a quick escape I thought to myself. My eyes still looking down at my feet, seeing Todoroki’s bare feet opposite mine.

“I hope you don’t think that if you stand still, I won’t see you.”

Feeling defeated, I looked up slowly. Taking in the sight before me. There was Shoto Todoroki, still dripping wet from the shower, towel hung low on his hips. Almost everything on full display. His whole body was toned and clearly built to be a Pro Hero. I didn’t think I had seen anything so sexy. The muscles of his body clearly from all the years of training.

“I- um. Thanks.” I choked out, trying to keep still, my eyes travelling up and down his body. Wanting to take it all in, knowing that I’d never be seeing this again.

“I told you I could see you naked.” I said quietly, recalling the conversation we had in my workshop. Wanting to relieve some tension. A hearty chuckle leaving his lips and reaching my ears.

“Do you want me to drop the towel? Technically I’m not fully naked yet.” He said back, voice flirty and lighthearted. For a second you forgot the awkwardness you were feeling moments ago and laughed. His hand coming out and resting on your elbow.

“Are you okay?” He asked, the mood shifting again, becoming serious. His hands still firmly on me, warm to the touch. I hardly knew him, but he was comforting, his presence very quickly becoming one you didn’t know if you could live without.

He was charming, funny, smart and dedicated. All facts you had learned from him being in your workshop every afternoon for the past week. Both of you learning about each other, casually flirting and making jokes with each other. He had definitely come along was from the little first year who thought that if he smiled people would die.

“Thank you, seriously. I’m glad you were there.” I said honestly. Not sure what would have happened if he didn’t find me and help me get a hold of my quirk. The thought of feeling all those emotions for any longer making your stomach drop and fill with dread.

“You also didn’t have to stay with me last night, I know those cots aren’t too comfy.” I said, playing with a stray curl that had fallen out of the tie awkwardly. You felt bad for him really, you knew how small and not suited for someone so tall and broad they were.

“I wanted you in my room but Shinso took you off me. I didn’t want to let you go.” He admitted lowly, dropping his head and bringing it down next to my ear. His breath warm on the side of my face. My cheeks heating up, stepping back and out of his grip.

He looked sincere, his eyes honest as I looked into them, but I couldn’t fall for it. I wanted to believe him but deep down I knew how people really were. I knew that I couldn’t let anyone else in.

My friendship quota full, no matter how wet and handsome they currently looked standing before me.

“I’m going to wear you down Y/N.” He almost whispered, stepping out of his room to make up the space I made between us. His body pressed flushed against mine, the water from his torso wetting the material of my sweater. His hand came out and played with the bottom of the sweater, toying with the material between his fingers.

“Wear me down? Don’t say it like it’s so easy.” I admitted, looking up but not moving back. Our bodies, still pressed up against each other.

“I like a challenge.”

“I’m nothing like any of the villains you’ve face before.”

“I’m excited to find out just how different you are.” He said lowly, small smile on his face as his hand shifted under the sweater and rested on my waist, his other hand coming up and resting on my cheek. Holding me in place.

“I can feel it, this wall you have put up. From a past heart break or family drama, doesn’t matter. I’ll learn soon enough. Just know that I’m going to break it down and you are going to want to be with me just as badly as I want to be with you.” He stated so surely, his mouth inching closer to mine, his breath fanning my face. Stopping short of our lips touching, Todoroki shifting and kiss the corner of my mouth, right on the cheek.

“We should go get some breakfast. Give me a minute.”

Without another word Todoroki turned and went back into his dorm, closing the door slightly to get changed. No, evidence on his face about what had just happened, or almost happened. Definitely the opposite of me who was beyond flustered, cheeks red and a little turned on.

The common room and kitchen looked different from when I saw it last. The couches were pushed back together, no empty bottles littered the floor and the space was completely bare of drunk teenagers unlike how it was when I left last night.

“Girl… so how are you feeling?” Mina asked, sitting next to me scooping food onto my plate.

“I have never been better; I feel so good about everything in my life right now. So balanced.” I said, looking over at her as she rolled her eyes.

“Sarcasm isn’t real humor extra. If you feel like shit you should just say it!” Bakugo said from the other side of me, nudging me with his arm. I had already thanked him for last night, feeling honored that he would stick up for me like that whereas Denki’s thanks would have to wait until he decided to emerge from his room.

“You have no reason to feel shit by the way. He is a fuck. He deserved the punch he got.”

“Not that I don’t agree with you, but I definitely think I should be held accountable for some of it. I mean he wouldn’t have acted like that if we weren’t sleeping together.” I stated, shrugging my shoulders and scooping food into my mouth.

“Just because you guys had sex doesn’t mean he can touch or talk to you like how he did. Once a dickhead always a dickhead.” Bakugo said back, sipping his tea.

You had to agree, the situation you were in last night had scared you. Watching Sen act like that startled you and reminded you that anyone was capable of anything under certain conditions. Before you could reply two large hands came down on your shoulders, squeezing lightly.

“Morning Y/N, sorry about last night. Sorry I couldn’t be there to help.” Kiri said sadly, concern clear in his tone.

“Where were you last night shitty hair?!” Bakugo yelled.

“I was with um Aiko… and Kameko and um whatever her twin sister’s name is.” Kiri said nonchalantly, scratching the back of his neck and sitting down in one of the spare seats at the table. I almost choked on my coffee, the fact that Eijiro Kirishima was casually talking about having a foursome over breakfast blowing my mind.

“Dude, you are my hero.” Mineta said, practically drooling as he looked at the red head.

“How do you even make that happen? What do you say?” Mineta asked.

“I do this thing called um respecting women and being a top guy. Something you clearly haven’t grasped.” Kiri said, slapping Mineta’s hand away that was held out for a high five. Bakugo chuckled to himself, turning back to his food as Mineta still probed Kiri for details. Which the latter absolutely didn’t divulge.

The mood felt nice. Comfortable. I was grateful to call these people my friends and know that we could talk and be like this together. As I looked around I didn’t miss Todoroki who kept his eyes firmly on me, which he seemed to be making a habit of and Momo, who had her eyes fixed on him

#shoto todoroki #shoto x reader #mha x reader #mha #mha smut #todoroki x reader

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morizoras-cave · 4 years

Text

Praise Unheard Of

Jake Gyllenhaal x Teen!Co-star!Reader

Genre: fluff

Description: You and Jake have grown close while filming together for a new movie. You have a very jokey friendship, and you keep it lighthearted most of the time. Although, in a certain interview Jake mentions how much he admires you, and as someone who hasn’t heard that from anyone before, you can’t help but cry about it.

Warnings: Parents who don’t express love for their child very well, feelings of not being good enough

(A/N): SMOOTHIE. BOWLS. get on it people.. also sorry if this is shit i just wrote this in like ten minutes at one am and i am NOT going to edit this shit, now excuse me while i watch LPS: the series

Halfway into the press tour for your new movie, you found yourself in England. You and Jake had already done countless interviews together, and you could hardly believe that you weren’t even close to being done.

You were sitting in your hotel room, and it was almost dinner time. To celebrate the ‘halfway point to freedom’ (as Jake called it), you were going to dinner around six. You were just waiting at this point, lying on your bed with your phone in hand.

You were on your undercover stan account, scrolling through Twitter. You saw many clips from your previous interviews, the little moments making you smile.

@/gyllenhaaloffame:

THEIR FRIENDSHIP IS SO CUTE I MIGHT COLLAPSE

You had grown quite close with Jake while filming. You didn’t expect to, but Jake was just such a kind soul. You two joked around a lot, and had a very brother-sister-like relationship. You sincerely appreciated his help and guidance, both in acting and in fame.

You scrolled further down your feed, giggling as you knew these dorks would never know that you saw all their cringy, although cute tweets.

@/marvelgarbagedisposal:

OMG LISten to what jake said about y/n in his solo interview!! whos cuttin onions??

Your brows furrowed. You didn’t know anything about any solo interviews. There was a video attached, and you clicked it curiously.

“What was it like working with Y/n?” the interviewer asked. You felt your heartbeat speed up. It was stupid, but you wondered, for a moment, whether he actually liked you. Jake seemed to think about it.

“Y/n is incredible. And I mean that! Both in acting, she is simply amazing, especially for her age. And also I just think she’s a really great human being. You know, I tell her all the time, that she’s very intelligent and understanding, but she’s not a very serious person. She mostly laughs off all of my compliments.”

“Really?”

“I couldn’t have asked for a better partner in crime for this movie. She really is such a talented, kindhearted young actor.”

You immediately turned off your phone, and clutched it to your chest. You felt tears prick your eyes, and your entire being swelled with pride. You scoffed, tears falling down the sides of your face.

No one ever told you that. Back home, all anyone ever did was doubt you. In your dreams, your intelligence, your character. No one had ever said anything like that to you. Ever.

You were just shaking on the bed, tears flowing out of your eyes, and you certainly forgot the time, because in the middle of your sniffles, a knock came from the door.

You froze.

“Y/n, it’s Jake!”

You stood up, wiping your tears furiously, wondering desperately what to do. “Uh, coming!”

You walked over to the door, held the handle, let go of it, took it again, let go, and then finally took it again and turned it, opening the door for Jake.

“Hey, N/n- Woah!” he stepped back, seeing your red eyes. Your lips made a thin line, stepping outside to ignore any and all problems.

“What happened? Are you okay?” Jake gently placed a hand on your shoulder, lowering himself to your eye level. His eyes were full of concern. You smiled, now knowing that there was so much more meaning to his concern, and that he actually really cared about you.

“I’m good,” you said. He looked puzzled, and you honestly couldn’t blame him.

“But you’ve cried.”

“Yeah,” you attempted to continue walking, but Jake grabbed your elbow, apparently wanting to know what was wrong. You blushed at the thought of telling him. It was stupid. “It’s nothing to worry about.”

“It is, if it made you cry!” Jake protested, and looking in his eyes, you realized he wasn’t going to let this go. You sighed, and looked around. You never knew when Paparazzi were around.

“Let’s go inside then.” You mumbled, opening the hotel room door. He followed inside sheepishly. You walked over to your bed again, and sat down on the edge. He sat down next to you. You took a deep breath.

“It’s just.. I was on Twitter and I saw a video of you saying, that you.. I don’t know, that you thought I was talented and kindhearted, or whatever.. It’s just.. No one really says that to me.. So, it meant a lot. That’s why I cried,” You confessed. A weight was lifted from your chest and you breathed a sigh of relief. You avoided Jake’s eyes. He looked as if he was considering your words.

“No one says you’re talented or nice?” he asked slowly. You shook your head.

“What a bunch of losers..” he mumbled. You giggled quietly. “I mean, they should be telling you that every damn day! Because you are, you know? You’re a little nugget of gold in society. That’s what you are. A nugget.”

You broke into a full-on laughter, and Jake’s eyes followed you, happy to have consoled you. He seriously couldn’t understand how such a talented young girl could exist, and how no one could acknowledge that every moment they had the chance. That’s why from then on, Jake made sure to compliment you, and let you know when you’d done good just to boost your self confidence, and because you simply deserved to know. You tried to let him know, but then it got all mushy, and you stopped because it was too gross.

#Jake Gyllenhaal x reader #Jake Gyllenhaal #spiderman #spiderman x reader #spiderman cast x reader #avengers x reader #avengers cast x reader #avengers x teen!reader #donnie darko #donnie darko x reader #mysterio #mysterio x reader

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sekceesimps · 3 years

Text

A Rose Made of Chains Ch 5

a/n Hey Simps! Very very sorry about the delay between 4 and 5. School actually sucks and makes me cry every night so I haven’t had time to write. Hopefully I can get 6 and 7 out within this week. Very sorry once again.

sincerely, Coffee 🥵

Part 1: teaser, Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3

Part 2: teaser, Ch 4, Ch 6, Ch 7

A soulmate AU chapter fic of Kurapika (Aged Up) and Reader who was kidnapped by the Phantom Troupe

You had remained meekly in your room desperately trying to think of a plan. You had to not only find a way to get into the hunter museum showing, but also somehow take the blade from a secure holding area. You wanted to curl up and die. No one said anything about the repercussions of failing, but you knew from Machi’s words that if you did fail you would probably be thrown back to where you were. The thought of being killed crossed your mind, but you weren’t exactly keen on dying anytime soon. You had just gotten a taste of freedom, you were not eager to lose it easily. The knowledge that you could keep the little privileges you had is what thrust you into developing the complex strategy to retrieve the spider’s desired blade.

When your pink haired partner came into your room, you had finally prepared your plan.

“Hey, are you ready,” she asked as she plopped down beside you on the bed.

You nod simply and begin with asking her about her nen ability. You were reluctant to tell her about your own, but you wanted to know what you would have to work with. She went into a little detail about her nen stitches but you had gotten a good idea of their use.

The prospect of using her nen to harm others left a vile taste in your mouth, but you simply ignored it. Silently vowing to not hurt or let her hurt anyone on this mission. You informed her of your plans. You would be using your manipulation of the shadows to cloak yourselves when entering the museum crawling with hunters. From there the two of you should be able to blend in and grab the blade as long as you two kept collected appearances. If worse came to worst then you would have to hope that you two could fight your way out.

The true nature of your nen is something you barely touched on in your spiel, hoping to keep what little privacy you had to yourself. She agreed to the plan and the two of you set out on your journey.

»»————-　　————-««

The drive to the museum had been fun. Your partner was a carefree person as she drove the two of you towards the mission. She had cracked jokes, making fun of the different troupe members you had met. Her demeanor was lighthearted and you couldn’t help but look at her and admire how attractive she was. Which is why it surprised you so much when she started flirting with you. In all honesty, you don’t consider yourself hot or someone desirable. All you can do is smile and flush red when she comments about how adorable your laugh is and how stunning you are. You decided that you felt almost comfortable with her. This ride solidified your admiration and attraction to her. You almost forgot that you were being held hostage and fighting for your life.

Coming to your destination felt quick, so when she parked the car you immediately perked up and felt ready. Your plans were now coming to fruition and you were eager to prove yourself. As you prepared to exit the sleek car, Machi had pulled you back by tugging at your shirt.

“Whoa there, Y/N. Where do you think you’re going dressed like that. We’re going to a fancy gallery you can’t go in like that. As stunning as you are, this is a black tie event,” she paused and smiled at your blushing face.

“I may have forgotten about that tiny detail,” you mumbled out, embarrassed.

“I anticipated that, which is why I brought outfits for us,” she continued. Great move, Y/N, already failing and you’ve barely even started. You grin sheepishly as she reaches into the back and pulls out a bag. “You can change in the bathroom over there. I’ll get ready here.”

You unzip the bag and look at the outfit she had chosen for you. It was a F/C gown/suit (whichever you’d like more) that complimented every feature of yours. The fabric was soft and breathable, you were truly amazed at it’s craftsmanship. Noticing your awe, she smiled with pride at her foresight of picking that out for you. You grab it and quickly dart towards the bathroom in the area she had parked.

When you had come back to the car moments later in that stunning outfit it made Machi’s jaw drop. She wasn’t one that really showed much emotion, but goddamn your gorgeous body being accentuated by that outfit stunned her. If you weren’t already claimed by Chrollo she might have made a move on you at that moment.

“Holy shit, Y/N. You look amazing in that. You’d look great in less, but hey I’m not complaining.” she couldn’t help praising you. You were just too good looking to not appreciate. If Chrollo wasn’t here to appreciate you, the least she could do was do it for him. Your face flushing pink never failed to make her elated. Yes, she could clearly see now why he wanted you as his own.

“Thanks! You look great too, Machi,” you reply. Trying to hide how your eyes analyzed her own champagne shaded dress and how it clung to her in all the right ways. “Let’s go!” you announce as you let your aura increase and surround you.

She analyzed your steady moves as you let the lack of light in the empty parking lot encase the two of you. “As long as you stay right next to me and use zetsu, we should both be undetectable. To everyone else, we just seem like a background.” you informed her, “don’t touch anyone and we should be alright,” she nods and presses herself closer to you. A little unnecessarily close but she smelled nice so you allowed it.

Surprisingly, you had kept up your aura and shadow manipulation all the way into the museum. It was exciting to pass by pro-hunters, close enough to touch if they reached out, with them being blissfully unaware of your presence. When you two had reached a point that was semi-empty, you released your aura and let the two of you be seen again. You had told her that all she was meant to do now was stay with everyone and make sure that the guards were not close to you as you went into the backroom and took the knife using your nen again. In all honesty, you knew this mission could have been done with just you. It suited your abilities perfectly, pure stealth. However, you were also aware that they didn’t trust you and needed someone to babysit. Fair, if you were being honest. You still felt quite drained and tired after only using a small amount of your power. As the two of you parted ways, you drifted into the sea of people and made your way to the storage room with the exhibits.

Getting the blade was a piece of cake. You put up your shadows, slipped behind the guards, and then bypassed the small security around the knife. It was a simple looking item but you could sense the aura around it from the entrance of the building. You tucked it neatly into your outfit and left as easily as you had come.

As you made your way back into the crowd, the thought of creeping out unnoticed kept nagging at you. After being in the base for so long, you knew the chance of escape was slim to none. Out here though, it was only one troupe member, and she seemed like she liked you well enough to trust you if you took a few extra minutes retrieving the blade. Your mind was screaming to just go while you could. A part of you was tugging you and making your heartache as if it was missing something big. The logical part of you also knew that they probably already knew what you were thinking and already took precautions against it. As nice as Machi was to you, you knew that she wouldn’t hesitate in taking you back by force. Then the punishment would be severe and you’d be in so much pain again. So you push down your aching heart and soul and push past people to look for your spider friend.

You had found her by the bar and stirring a drink. She smiled at seeing you back. If she was being honest, she thought that you would run and she’d have to hunt you down like what Chrollo had told her to do. She was glad. This meant that you were settling in nicely. You hardly protest as she lightly grips your arm and wraps her own around your waist, as she leads you out of the museum, just as they were beginning to bring the artifacts out. Right in the nick of time.

“Nice job! You’re going to make a great addition. Get some rest, you look tired,” she announces when you make your way back to the vehicle. You nod in agreement as you pull out the knife and put it in the seat next to you. With a final exhale of exhaustion you passed out in the back of the car as Machi drove you two back to the base.

»»————-　　————-««

She had nudged you awake and pushed you back into the hideout, allowing you a few moments to orient yourself and walk in. You carry yourself slightly more relaxed now. Of course, you weren’t at complete ease in a den of killers, but you were certain that they wouldn’t get rid of you tonight. Machi had told you that you could go back to your room and eat dinner as she took the knife and brought it to the troupe’s meeting. She had informed you that you were excused from it.

You were glad at her forwardness. Being around two to three of these people at a time was fine, but the thought of being around the entirety of the spider made you shake in your shoes. As you sulked your way back to your room, thoughts of these people swam in your mind, drowning out any glimpse of a time before them, a time of true comfort.

You had hardly realized that you had already made it into your room and into the shower of your private bathroom. You hardly remember sitting in the shower and letting the steaming hot water run over your body and wash away all the memories of what had just happened. It was a good warmth that let you forget what your future here would be like. When the water had started to make your skin prune and wrinkle, you decided that it was time to get out, as you turned the water off, wrapped yourself in a towel, and made your way back to the bed.

It was surprising how you had gotten different styles of clothes placed into your drawers. Some shirts looked far too big, while others looked tiny. It was quite obvious that someone had just grabbed one of everything from the store and called it a day. Quite frankly, you didn’t mind as you grabbed a hoodie in your size and pulled it over your head.

You lost track of time as you sort of just laid on the bed and looked up at the ceiling. You made sure to count and memorize every bump on it, a small sliver of satisfaction from the pure boredom nagging at your mind. The window allowed you to look at the landscape outside. Granted it was dark, but you could make out trees and greenery, nothing to tell you where you were though. You briefly entertained the idea of breaking the window and running into the forestry outside.

The loud knocks at the door sharply broke you away from your brief thoughts of escape, as if a sign of fate telling you that it would be unsuccessful. For whatever reason, thinking of escape created painful shocks that numbed your brain. You sighed and got up, cracking open the door for whoever was interrupting you.

He was standing there in the most casual way. He was still wearing the strange outfit from this morning, but his entire demeanor was different. It was friendly and lax, paired with a gleaming smile you couldn’t help but blush.

“May I come in?” he asked politely. Ever the gentlemen.

“Of course,” you respond and open the door wider for him to enter, giving him a smile in return.

It was unbeknownst to you how much he truly enjoyed seeing you smile. As he made his way into your room, you slyly take in his appearance now that he was in the better lighting of your room. He was so incredibly attractive. His hair was no longer slicked back, but looked more natural and loose, it meshed well with the eased look in his gray eyes. You realized that you hadn’t noticed the tattoo on his forehead before. You felt small in comparison to his striking beauty and powerful aura. His leaner physical appearance may have only been around 5’10”, but it felt as if he was so much greater. Come to think of it, why were all of the members that you had seen so far so attractive. Was being hot a requirement to be a spider? Why did they choose you then?

You were so lost in thought that you hadn’t even noticed that you were sitting beside Chrollo on your plush bed. He had pulled you out of your train of thought by asking you how you felt.

“Hmm, fine, I guess,” you hummed at him. Unconsciously leaning towards him. You were beginning to feel how taxing using your nen ability had been.

He must have taken note of this as he let you lean onto him, before wrapping his arms around you and laying down, with you laying half awake as the little spoon. You felt a little self conscious at his arms that were enfolding your waist and his hands laying on your stomach, your aura had started coming across as more anxious now.

Quickly noticing this shift in mood, he let go and moved his arms up towards your shoulders, resting his hands around the crook of your neck. This was more bearable for you, you decided. You broke the calm silence first.

“Chrollo,” you began quietly, almost hoping that he wouldn't hear you, “can we cuddle?” You felt stupid after asking such a ridiculous request. Why did you think asking the head of the spider to cuddle with you was smart. Now your only form of comfort here would leave. I’m such a dumbass you continued admonishing yourself.

However, to your surprise he let out a low chuckle. God, his voice was so hot. “Of course, love”, he replied suavely and pulled you as close to himself as possible. “I’m so glad that you passed,” he continued murmuring sweet nothings into the shell of your ear. You found yourself turning around and facing him, nuzzling your face into his chest. This was… pleasant. It felt so familiar, but then again thinking of anything before being in that room with the man named Feitan made your stomach toss and turn. You ignored the passing feeling, trying to avoid any of the flashes of pain that you associated with trying to remember.

“If you want, I can introduce you to the rest of the spiders tomorrow,” he mumbled into your hair. You only hum in response and bury your face into Chrollo’s chest again. He was so warm and his steady breaths with his calming heartbeat lull you easily to rest. As you fall deeper into the arms of peaceful sleep, images of a blonde who held you in the same position flashed by.

a/n I’m kind of in love with Machi if you couldn’t tell 💀. Just to clear up some confusion, the reader is unaware that Chrollo and the Phantom Troupe massacred the Kurta Clan. This is a piece of information that Kurapika hadn’t revealed to her before she was taken. Anyways I hope you enjoyed it, please leave us some feedback!

~I’ve also never written a scene like this before, so I hope it was ok~

#kurapika #kurapika x reader #chrollo #chrollo x reader #chrollo stans #hunter x hunter #hunter x hunter x reader #hxh #hxh x reader #reader #y/n #machi #machi x reader #feitan #hisoka #hisoka x reader #pakunoda

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anonymousbaev · 3 years

Note

Rfa + minor trio being jealous seeing mc with another member pls. ty if u do :DDD

*Angst* RFA+Minor Trio being jealous seeing Mc dating another member.

Enjoy! (;´༎ຶٹ༎ຶ`) *Angst and NSFW warning*

☆Yoosung☆

"Congratulations..." They were the words he sent in the chatroom when you and Seven made it official.

Only he knew they were empty words though.

He really liked you, hoping to confess to you one day. Sometimes he had even imagined having a family with you.

But that was just how deeply he loved you.

Somedays he would just wish you'd broken up with Seven and ran into his widely opened arms.

Somedays he would wonder if it would've been him by your side if he had confessed his love a day sooner.

He always cursed himself out for thinking that way afterwards though.

He should be happy.

He has to be happy, for his two precious friends.

He avoided you and Seven for months, years... putting on a bitter smile when he had run into you at a RFA party occasionally.

It felt like he was trapped in a nightmare, he knew he had to get his feelings over with. But he just couldn't let you go so easily...

It wasn't until Seven proposed to you, in front of all the guests and members at the party.

He kept repeating the words in his head, "Please say no, please say no, please say no..."

But of course, you agreed and Yoosung sent you both his second congrats.

A few years later he started dating a girl he met at his vet.

Yoosung eventually got married to her and he was able to treat you and Seven the way he had before everything.

Yoosung and his new wife would never have the same connection he did with you though.

I mean she didn't have to go through getting compared with Rika.

He was happy with her, and you were happy with Seven.

He told himself, he was content with his life. And, he eventually came to believe it.

☕️ Jaehee ☕️

When Jaehee found out about your relationship with Zen through the radio, she joked that she was offended she had to find out through the internet and not personally by you or Zen.

She was confused about her feelings at first, she knew she was feeling jealous... but towards who?

She brushed off her feelings, convincing herself it was a neutral fangirl jealousy.

That wasn't until she found out how Zen broke your heart during an argument and you stayed at her house.

She felt so angry, how could he do that to you? He should've cherished you, loved you, because that's what you deserved-

That's when she realized, those feelings... weren't towards Zen but towards you.

Without even realizing it, her feelings for you have gotten so deep, she fell in love with you.

But it was too late when she did, because you were able to make up with Zen and you even told her you were going to get married to him.

That officially broke her.

She kept a straight face, continuing to work at her café for 2 years.

That was when you announced your pregnancy and even her hard metaled heart delicately snapped.

She cried silently in her house as she read your chats.

"Why am I crying?... I should be happy for her..." she repeated those words as she cried herself to sleep.

The next day she told the RFA she was going to leave, in order to travel the world to further her knowledge in her business.

You were sad, everyone was. But she promised to keep in touch.

She was able to keep her promise for a year. Until she fell out of touch with everyone, even you. And you used to be her best friend...

You were upset, why did she suddenly block you out of her life?

But only Jaehee and god would know how you had unknowingly broke her heart, because you never heard from her again.

♬ Zen ♬

Why did it have to be that trust fund kid, out of everyone else?

Himself for example... either way he just wanted you to be happy.

But sometimes he would wonder, if he had gone more less with those flirtatious jokes, would it be him next to you?

Did you think his flirts were nothing but a casual way of joking like Jumin told you?

Now only he would know, that he was being serious. That all those 'lighthearted' flirts sincerely came from his heart.

The way you were strong enough to have everyone open up to you, and the way you sincerely cared for everyone of them.

He fell in love with you, and he knew he would never be able to find another person like you.

But he tried his best to get over you. He still wanted to remain friends at the very least.

If he wanted that, he had to accept your relationship with Jumin...

Zen tried to love someone else, a beautiful woman he had worked with in one of his movies.

But when he saw you come in to congratulate him as Jumin held your waist his heart broke.

Eventually though, he proposed to the woman and at the wedding he felt shame because in the church, at his wedding with someone that wasn’t you...

He thought you were the most beautiful woman there.

“Why are these feelings still lingering?!”

Years passed... later finding out his wife has had several affairs, but he wasn’t one to judge. When he still had you in his heart.

He lived his life solely for his career in a loveless marriage life, until he finally shattered. He couldn’t take these feelings anymore, and when he left, nobody has heard of him again.

♛ Jumin ♛

It seemed as if he was cursed.

Every woman he had fallen in love with, the only two woman he’d felt emotions to, they all belonged to Kim Jihyun.

Although he’d never showed it, when you and Jihyun announced your wedding, he was bitter, “Already? Did you two even get to know each other, after all that happened with Mint Eye?”

He drowned himself in wine, everyday.

One day he even sat curled up on the floor as he soothed Elizabeth the 3rd in his arms as he whispered, “Nobody will take you from me...”

The past months he’d been out of character and he was aware of that.

Eventually, he was slowly able to return to his old self again but the only things that surrounded him in his life was his cat, work, and wine.

He never wanted to feel those emotions for you again because they were painful to get over. But had he truly, gotten over you?

He would’ve done everything to make you his if you didn’t belong to his best friend, and he knew V deserved his happy ending, after everything he had been through.

But what about himself?

You had a feeling, something wasn’t right. Jumin was different.

And everything poured out when all three of you went to get dinner, all the emotions stacked up spilled out in a single second.

The next morning you found yourself in Jumin’s bed as he slept next to you shirtless, with your clothes also coldly left on the floor, your heart dropped.

Then, you looked to your left to find Jihyun also sleeping next to you.

That was the start of your relationship, all three of you came to the negotiation that the two men would share you, to which you gladly accepted, because it was your idea.

You were sure it was a great idea because all three of you were totally content on it.

Others would point fingers, while some would worry, “Isn’t history repeating itself? Maybe not in the same way... but in a ominous way just like before. They’re dragging themselves into a toxic relationship again.”

You and the two friends didn’t care though, because all three of you was sure this was an absolute fantasy...

👓 Saeyoung 👓

With all the flirty jokes the two of you would send, everyone that had seen you and Saeyoung, they were sure you and he had a fling.

That’s what Saeyoung thought as well, that there was something between the two of you, but you must’ve only seen him as a friend because he was paralyzed for minutes as he watched you in Zen’s apartment.

You and Zen knocked down furniture desperate to embrace one another as your lips pressed against his, eager for his touch.

When Zen turned you against the wall as his slender hands reached under your skirt, Saeyoung didn’t want to see anymore.

He wanted to give you both the privacy, but it was also because he couldn’t bare the pain of watching you anymore.

That’s when he noticed Saeran behind him with his ice cream. “Was that Mc?”

Saeyoung nodded with a grin to act like he was fine as he tried getting back to work, Saeran rolled his eyes and threw away his finished ice cream in the trash.

That was when Saeyoung finally broke down, and he wasn’t sure why because he used to always tell himself he would be ready when this day came.

When he tried focusing on his work and it seemed impossible, Vanderwood offered him to come back to the agency. Saeyoung accepted the offer.

He grows further from the RFA and more immersed in his works, but still occasionally enters the chatroom to see how you’re doing.

His heart stings with a bitter smile when he sees the selfies Zen uploads with you and your son that has the same white hair and scarlet eyes as your now husband.

He’s happy to see you with a good life, a good life he thinks he was never capable of giving you...

🌚 Saeran 🌚

When he came home and started to live with his twin he’d been separated from for years, it’d be a lie if he said it wasn’t uncomfortable living with you as well.

He barely knew you except for the fact that you were Saeyoung’s girlfriend.

That was until Saeyoung eventually had to get back to his hacking work after devoting his months of time to Saeran alone.

You started taking care of Saeran, and it was awkward at first because he didn’t want you anywhere near him. The first two months were full of him just screaming and attacking you.

But eventually he realized how patient, loving and sincerely caring you were.

You became the only person he wanted to be touched by, and he wanted to be the only person able to touch you.

Of course he’d never said anything because you were the girlfriend of his brother.

Sometimes you would even give him cuddles, only supposed to be friendly hugs but Saeran didn’t think the same, because he loved you. In a different way from how you loved him.

When he couldn’t trust himself from you anymore he told you to stop coming near him.

It hurt you, because you didn’t know why, but you agreed.

You and Saeyoung never noticed how painful it was for Saeran when you kissed, and hugged each other in front of him.

He sealed his emotions away... for the happiness of his twin, and you, because he knew damn well his brother was good at making you feel loved.

♧ V ♧

He saw you as an angel, one that’d helped him realize the toxic of his relationship with Rika, one that’d helped him realize he was capable of real love.

But he had felt lost when he knew that the person he would experience true love with would never be able to be you.

Because you were already with Jumin, and V would never interfere with that, Jumin was his best friend, and he knew how well Jumin cherished you as his wife.

Whenever the people around V would ask him when he would find a new lover, he brushed it off. Sometimes hinting that he would probably never.

They all assumed it was because he had never truly gotten over Rika, but little did they know he had already realized it was never love.

Yes, the lingering feeling of guilt may have been still over him, but you were the one in his heart. He always caught himself staring at you at parties.

V wanted to avoid these feelings because he knew the dangers of it.

He avoided you and Jumin as he focused on his art, and Jumin didn’t have the time because he was always busy with you or work.

You noticed Jumin and Jihyun slowly falling out of touch. So you arranged dinner at a restaurant.

You drank until you were drunk.

V chatted with Jumin, it was a neutral talk between friends. They decided to drink until their hearts desires that night.

V was eventually the last one half sober with his high drinking metabolism while Jumin fell drunk next to you on the table.

V rests his head on his arms as he admired you for what felt like hours.

That was when he lightly placed his cold hands and lightly brushed your cheeks.

It was an selfish move, one that he would only know of. He softly apologized to the both of you and called Jumin’s driver to pick the two of you up before leaving.

The next morning, Jumin told you Jihyun had left to travel somewhere with the promise that he would be back one day, when he had gotten over his feelings. You and Jumin didn’t know what feelings he had been talking of but hoped he’d be back soon.

However the both of you gave up, when even phone calls wouldn’t reach him, and you were sure he’d never come back.

That was probably the first promise V gad ever broke.

🧸 Vanderwood 🧸

Vanderwood didn’t think much of you, just the fact that you were Saeyoung’s girlfriend.

But that was it, even when the two of you had occasionally lived together for a while when he was a “maid” for Saeyoung.

That was until he and Saeyoung came back from dangerous missions, wounds and scars all over their body, you would always scold them and treat their wounds.

The little actions you did for him fluttered his heart and he’d always feel envious seeing you with Saeyoung.

He drowned himself in work so he could distract himself from all the unnecessary feelings in his heart.

You would never have to find out about his feelings because there was no need.

You were as happy as you could be with Saeyoung and he didn’t need to ruin that.

He also didn’t really think he had a chance anyway.

But he knew what kind of dangerous job he and Saeyoung had.

So sometimes he’d wished you had just ditched Saeyoung and met someone with a far more normal life so Vanderwood would have to stop worrying about your wellbeing.

But at the same time he was glad you were Saeyoung’s girlfriend so he could always watch you from close.

Although you would never be his, close was enough for him.

Masterlist

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yuzuriha-sayori · 4 years

Text

Do I Make You Horny Baby?

A Hawks x Reader NSFW

This (little) piece started off in our Hawks’ NSFW group chat where Hawks quotes Austin Powers 🥴

Word Count: 4390

Thank you to these sweet Birdies for pushing me into finishing this because...it’s been months since I started it. I literally wouldn’t have finished without you guys haha. @bluecookies02 @vixenpen @heyitswhiplash @musicisme196 @hawkschickenwings @the-magician-in-alice @himbokutokou @ryuukotakami @kusuouchiha if I’ve forgotten someone or someone wants to be removed from tags, please let me know~!

~*~*~*~*~*

Today was supposed to be like any normal day; just a short shopping trip to your local market to gather a few missing ingredients for dinner, and pick up a coffee on the way back. You hadn't expected it to come down after walking a few blocks back home. The once bright and crisp air outside quickly turned windy and wet.

"Damn this rain." You muttered to yourself, clutching your paper bag of groceries and coffee to your chest as you jogged briskly back to your apartment. If you had enough common sense to check the weather forecast, you would have brought an umbrella. But with how hectic life had been lately, small things like these often slipped your mind, only becoming an issue when life decided to take a turn against you.

Just as you made it to the last corner you had to take, the bottom of your now soggy bag gave way, spilling the contents of what was supposed to be for dinner. Your heart sunk immediately as you stood there with not enough time to react, looking equivalent to a dog caught in the rain. Though before your groceries could hit the sidewalk, a swarm of red overtakes your vision.

"You should be more careful with your things kid." A rather honey deep voice caught your attention. Looking up, you locked eyes with the most handsome young man you'd probably ever seen in your young adult life. Crimson feathers that seemed to float in the air held the few contents of what was supposed to be for dinner.

It felt like time had stopped as you stared into his sharp golden eyes, your lips parting in a forgotten "Oh". Out of all the people to see you as disheveled as you were today, the No. 2 Pro Hero, was the last one you expected. The young man's usually wind whipped hair was plastered all around his face, his large crimson wings doing very little to stop the heavy rain beating down on the two of you.

"S-S-Sorry!" You managed to get out, breaking eye contact. Almost instantly you were able to gain your thoughts back as your brain scrambled to figure out what you were going to do with your items. Your flimsy paper bag was out of commission.

The hero gave a small laugh, seeming to not mind the pouring rain, "It's alright. Just make sure you pay more attention to the weather before coming out. It's that time of year after all." You could only nod at the ground sheepishly, too embarrassed to make eye contact.

"Were you headed home? I can help you carry these." The sudden proposal made your head shoot up almost immediately. Despite your hammering heart, you met his gaze and could see genuine sincerity.

"It's not too much trouble? I couldn't possibly trouble someone that's usually so busy." You say, waving your free hand frantically. The other hand still clutched the coffee you were trying to save. You were very aware of how Hero work wasn't easy, nor did it ever stop.

As if madam bad luck was trying to put in some overtime today, a large truck came speeding past, splashing murky ground water at you. Hawks, with his inhuman reactive agility, didn't hesitate to shield you from the splash while simultaneously pulling you into him. Your coffee slipped out of your hand and fell to the ground.

"You have quite the bad luck, little bird." The rush of adrenaline that surged through your body was almost incomprehensible and it took a minute to register what had just happened. Too many seconds had gone by and he was still holding you close to his chest. As he spoke, you could hear how his chest vibrated low with each word.

Quickly pulling yourself away, you nodded and laughed awkwardly while keeping your gaze to the ground, "It seems so." Your cheeks burned but you brushed it off as the result of how warm his body felt against your face. Sighing with defeat, you grabbed your now wasted coffee cup and tossed it into the trash can that was nearby.

"Well, I don't think we could get any more soaked out here. Where to?" The blond said enthusiastically. You glanced up at him to see that despite the confident smile he had plastered on his face, he had to be absolutely miserable. He was drenched head to toe in muddy water and his large jacket sagged and clung to his frame. You imagined it was horribly heavy after absorbing so much water. His wings, a usual bright red, were now dark and slightly leaden in appearance.

"Right!" You grabbed his hand and hurriedly tugged him around the corner, walking in the direction of your apartment. "I'm so sorry! We'll get you dried off at my place. It's just a bit farther down this street."

"No need, I can dry off once I'm back to my agency." He quickly dismissed, his tone lighthearted. "By the way, I never asked for your name."

"A-Ah, [l/n], [l/n] [f/n]..." You couldn't help the burn in your cheeks at his inquiry as you two walked up the stairs to your apartment door, stopping right outside it while you dug for your keys in your pockets.

He repeated your name slowly and then chuckled, "It has a lovely ring to it."

"Thank you!" You exclaimed rather loudly in surprise. "B-But uhm also, well, your agency is across town. You'll get sick staying in those clothes. I insist, please come in and dry off."

Hawks, being the man that he was, couldn't hold in his little quip, "Trying to get me out of my clothes already?" Your keys, that you had just managed to pull out, fumbled right out of your hands and hit the ground. Whipping around in shock, you were met with a playfully disappointed look as he continued, "We just met, you haven't even taken me out to dinner first."

"I-I-I didn't mean anything inappropriate I swear, I h-have honest intentions!" Your face flushed with embarrassment as you completely missed his teasing.

"Pfft." The hearty laugh that left the crimson winged hero echoed as he picked your keys up and handed them to you. "I'm only joking kid, gotta stay positive on bad days." He flashed you a big smile. You didn't understand how despite looking like a complete mess, he could still smile in such a way. It made your heart skip as you turned away, finding the right key and unlocking your door.

"You nearly made my heart explode, please don't tease me like that." Walking into the mud room, you slipped off your shoes and jacket, both soaked down to the fibers and slipped into your house slippers. Sighing in defeat, you turn to the young blond that followed you in. His feathers still held on to the few items you had purchased earlier. "Here, give me your jacket. I'll put it in the wash."

"You don't have to do that." The hero said, waving his large gloved hands up simultaneously. Your lips turned into a pout. Quickly grabbing each item from his feathers, you darted off to your kitchen. You left him standing confused at the entrance as he watched you dart from one room to another. It was but a few moments later that you returned with a towel and house slippers. "Oh, thank you."

"Now give me your jacket." Your hand was extended to him while doing the grab motion and your face said you weren't taking no for an answer.

Hawks could only sigh and shake his head in defeat, a small smirk on his lips. "Fine fine, you win little bird." Shrugging out of his jacket, he looked you over. You were still dripping water all over the dark wooden floor. You quickly caught his concerned expression and waved him off.

"This can be mopped up. We don't want you catching a cold. Worry about yourself okay?" You gave him a big smile and traded the towel and slippers for his jacket. It was indeed very heavy. "I'll toss this is the wash for you, if that's okay? It won't take long. In the meantime, you can use my shower. If you don't warm yourself up, you'll surely get sick."

His mouth opened to protest against the shower but decided on focusing more on you, "Worry about myself? Big words for someone who isn't worried about their own self."

You blink, confused at his words. "What do you mean? I'll shower after you of course. You're covered in dirty water." Turning to take his jacket to where the washer was, you froze when you felt his breath against your neck.

"You should be more worried about inviting someone you just met into your home." His husky words spread like warm chocolate across the skin of your neck and you jump a few inches forward before almost snapping your head around with how fast it spun around.

Hawks was bent over to your height as he slipped off one boot with one hand, the other holding onto the frame of the wall. You realized he'd sounded so close with how low he was bent over. A closer inspection and you noticed just how well toned he was, his compression shirt clung tightly to his lean muscles.

Your mind raced with a plethora of absolutely perverse thoughts. You were still a young adult after all. Oh how those muscles would feel under your fingers. The image of them tightening, his breath getting caught in his throat, as you trailed feather light touches down to his--

"Yo."

His voice suddenly broke you from your hungry stare, jumping out of your skin in reaction. Hawks' fierce golden eyes stared into yours, a thick eyebrow cocked up in a questioning manner. His lips were pressed in a straight line but you swore the corners twitched upwards. Heat began creeping up your neck at an alarming rate and you whipped back around.

"Bathroom is on the right. Leave the wet ones in the basket!" You said in a hurry, scurrying off to the laundry room. Any second longer and he'd have seen just how red your face turned, the heat reaching all the way up to your ears. You dropped the jacket into the washer and leaned over it, holding onto both sides as you took deep breaths for what felt like forever. The sound of the shower turning on brought you back to reality.

After calming yourself, you made your way to the bedroom, rifling through all your clothes to find something he might fit. 'He probably gets that a lot. He is an attractive man.' You told yourself. Finally you found a pair of decent sweats you rarely ever wore that he could possibly fit into, and a large plain black tee. "These should do~."

Nervously making your way to the bathroom, you saw he had indeed left his wet clothes in one of the baskets by the door. Swapping the wet ones for the clean pair of clothes, you also pulled down another fresh towel from the linens closet nearby and placed it in another basket for him.

'Calm down, it's no big deal.' Oh but it was though. The No. 2 hero was currently using your shower, and more than likely your body wash, to clean himself. 'Holy fuck. My heart, please...' There was nothing more embarrassing than getting caught staring at someone with dirty intentions.

It took much willpower to not want to take a peek at what kind of underwear the pro hero wore. You mentally screamed at yourself as you dumped the contents into the washer and started it, setting the basket down next to it. 'Dear lord please forgive me.' You sighed, dragging your hand down your face, 'I am an unholy human being.'

"Ah shit!" A sudden realization hit that dinner wasn't prepped. You quickly darted to your kitchen. The items you grabbed, previously forgotten on your counter, were for your crockpot. Something easy to forget since you were always so busy. As you began preparing everything for dinner and tossing them in the pot, you started to hear something coming from the bathroom.

It took a second to register, occasionally mistaking what you heard, but eventually you tuned in and were pretty sure you weren't mistaken. The pro hero was singing in the shower. It was soft whistles that almost sounded like chirping. "Pfft," you couldn't help let the small laugh escape, thinking it was absolutely adorable.

Food prepped and crock pot set on high for 3 hours, you got to work mopping up your floors. It didn't take long considering there wasn't much floor space to worry about. Hawks continued to sing throughout your quick work and only stopped shortly before the shower cut off. You were already finished and had water on the stove when you could hear him approaching.

"Something smells good." You could hear his quickly becoming addictive voice roll over you as he walked into the shared kitchen/living room arrangement, hips resting against the small wooden table you had. You turned, tea cup in hand when you caught the sight before your eyes.

His beautiful golden hair was still damp, tufts of it fell over his forehead and partially his eyes as he rubbed the back of his head with the towel around his neck. He looked otherworldly with how beautiful he was. Your eyes darted their way down his frame to see how your clothes fit on him. The black tee fit him fine but your eyes stopped abruptly at the sweats. You almost dropped your jaw. They were just a tad bit too small. Hugging his hips fine but didn't leave too much room for...for what he carried between his legs.

"Ah, you're still wet. You didn't at least dry off?" You couldn't even hear him speaking to you as your head was filled with the dial up sound. You even missed his smirk and light exhale as he stepped towards you and wrapped the towel he had used to dry his hair around your shoulders.

His actions were quick to snap you out of the stupor you were in and the tea cup slipped from your fingers. "You really have a knack for dropping stuff don't you?" In almost an instant, a red feather grabbed the almost shattered cup and dropped it into your hand.

"T-T-Tea?" Was all you were able to get out as you looked at the man sheepishly. He returned your bewildered expression with a smirk, pointing to the shower.

"I think you should go warm yourself up before you get sick, kid. I should be taking my leave soon." Just as he finished speaking, a ding came from the laundry room.

"Oh that's your clothes! They should be done washing. I'll move them over. Tea while you wait?" You returned his smile sheepishly.

Hawks could only sigh with a smile and fold his arms across his chest, "Alright, but you should shower first. I’ll wait here." Scooting the wooden chair out from under the table, he plopped himself down and got comfortable. “I hope this tea is good, and if I have time, maybe I can get to try whatever you’re cooking? It smells like chicken.”

You nodded to him and spoke rather quickly, “Yes it is chicken! I will be right back!,” and dashed off to switch the hero’s clothes over. He eyed you as you again darted across your apartment just a minute later to where he had come from, assuming that that was the direction of where your room was as well. Not that he was paying attention or committing it to memory or anything.

You had planned to take a quick shower but your embarrassment kept you in there longer than you expected. There was something embarrassing about the fact you were naked under the same room with Hawks. As always, your brain started rapid firing off inappropriate thoughts, imagining the pro hero walking in on you. Maybe liking what he was seeing and offering to wash you himself. Washing you with himself, rubbing his thick veiny-- ‘Seriously? A hentai trope? I have got to get it together.” You told yourself while finishing up hurriedly and ignoring the arousal you were feeling in between your legs. If you stayed in there any longer under the heat, you were sure to faint. The last thing you needed was Hawks rescuing you from falling only to find you stark naked. Goddammit it here we go again.

Doing your best not to take up too much of his time, you were soon to join him, wearing sweats much like his, but these fit your frame. You made a mental note to apologise for assuming the ones you found would have fit him. ‘I don’t think he noticed now did he?’

“I’m sorry if I took so long,” You told him, turning the eye on for the pot of water you had previously placed there. You reached up to grab another tea cup to join the one you had earlier and glanced over at the cooker. The food was to be done soon. You were quite surprised how almost 3 hours had already gone by.

“You’re fine, kid. Say, what are you cooking? Besides it being, you know, chicken. Is that garlic?”

You turned to nod at him with a small smile. “Honey garlic chicken. I’m preparing it with rice if that’s fine with you?”

“Ha, you’re cleaning my clothes, you offered your shower to me, and you’re letting me join you for dinner. I’ll take whatever you give me sweetheart.” There was something about the way he said the last sentence that made it stick in the air thicker than the honey in your chicken. His eyes never broke from yours.

You were the one to break the gaze, nervousness taking over. “Almost forgot the rice haha oops!” You stuttered, clambering around getting your rice washed and into the rice cooker. The loud whistle of your water boiling in the pot nearly made you faint and you rushed to grab it off the stove, though Hawks beat you to it. He opted to get up and do it himself rather than using his feathers; his feathers and heat didn’t quite get along.

“O-Oh thank you!” You stammer, taking note of how close he was to you. His gaze on you was like the warm air of summer, hot and clingy. The lack of control over your own eyes caused you to catch sight of his quite prominent dick print in the sweats he wore. Your breath caught and you whipped back around to finish pouring your cups of tea. You could feel heat pooling between your legs and you couldn’t help but press them together. The image of just how thick he was continued to burn in your head.

Just as you sat the steaming pot of water back onto the stove, he moved in even closer. Every hair on your body stood up with the goosebumps forming. The air, swirling with so much sexual tension, could cut through anything faster than his feathers. Hawks was by no means a fool, and could tell how easily such small actions from him made your body quiver.

“Do I excite you?” You jumped and tried to turn around. You hadn’t known how close he was to you which caused your ass to graze against his semi hard cock. A whisper of a moan escaped his lips, “Easy there baby bird, didn’t I say dinner came first?”

With half your body turned to him, the feeling of time stopping between the two of you for the second time today arose. Your heart thrummed in your ears as you locked eyes with the man that seemed to be sculpted right from God’s hands.

“See, when I ask you a question, I expect an answer.” You could only nod, the function of your lungs seeming to fail at that moment. “Now I’ll ask again,” He leaned down, lips just barely ghosting over your own before he spoke again, so dangerously low that it shot electricity right between your legs, “Do I make you horny, baby?”

Before the struggling ‘Yes’ was able to escape your lips, the sound of not only the cooker, but the dryer went off. You wanted to groan in frustration but Hawks caught on quite too fast and put his arms on either side of you, flat on the counter top. His heated gaze meant he wasn’t leaving without an answer.

“Y-Yes.” You whispered to him. The unholy growl that left him made you shake with arousal before his lips crashed against yours. One of his hands slipped down to roughly grab your waist and press you into him as he rocked his hips forwards. “F-Fuck.” You managed to choke out.

Slipping his hand into your pants, his skilled hands and long fingers made work of you like you were a violin. The whines and moans escaping you only spurred him on as he grinded himself against you and made you melt into him. “You are quite easy to read, you know that?”

You shook your head frantically, rocking into his hand as he wound that rubber band in your gut so tight. You wanted to tell him dinner was ready, that you two should eat but you dared not to have him stop what he was doing. His now completely erect cock sprung free as he slipped his pants down. “Do you want this?” He groaned against your neck, “Do you want me to put it inside? Stretch that tight little hole of yours?”

“Yes! Please oh yes! I want it!” You cried out, wanting nothing more than him to fill you up with that deliciously thick cock you’d been eyeing all evening. He was more than willing to oblige as he pressed down on your back with his free hand so your chest rested on the counter. You reached down to slide and shake your pants down and stepped out of them. A knee came between your legs to nudge them apart and you soon felt something prod against your entrance. It felt hot and slick as he rubbed the tip of his member against you. “Take a deep breath,” was all he said before he spread your hole wide open with his cock, sliding all in with one deep thrust.

The air was forcefully knocked out of you as you felt your belly swell. He filled you up so full you almost felt like you’d break. It hurt, it most definitely hurt, but it didn’t stop the whorish wails that escaped you as he began pounding into you with a hunger. “Jesus fuck you’re so tight, [y/n]. God you’re gonna make it hard to pull out. You’re just-- FUCK you’re just sucking me right in.”

His words made you clench around him more. He growled so deep and snapped his hips into you faster, “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” One hand was between your legs, working you up to him and the other gripped your hip in a death clutch. His skillful hands and the way he stretched you out and pounded you so deep had you rushing towards your release.

“Oh God please! Please! Please!” You scream in pleasure, seeing nothing but stars. He fucked you relentlessly and you were sure he was going to break you.

“Please what?”

“Please cum inside me. I’m! O-Oh! I’m begging you please!” Drool ran down your chin as your legs gave out, no longer able to support themselves and the pounding you were taking. Just as he felt your legs start to give out, both his hands clutched your hips to hold you up. It was easy for him to control where he was able to thrust into you as he aggressively slammed into your sweet spot.

“Ooooohhh fuck. Fuck yes!” He hissed, his strokes becoming arrythmic. “That’s it sweetheart, give yourself to me. Give your everything to me!” He groaned, biting into your shoulder. Almost too soon were you falling apart, screaming out as you met your release all over him and the floor. You cried out in more of a sob as you shook against him, body tensing up and shaking in waves. A few more snaps of his hips and he was joining you, burying himself deep inside as spurt after spurt of warm viscous sperm filled you. He held you close as he shook, one arm under your stomach to support your weight and the other lay flat against the countertop as he hunched over you.

“Fuck baby bird you’re really milking everything out of me,” he rasped as the muscles of your walls squeezed him over and over. Once you were finally done spasming, he slowly slid out of you. Hot sticky seed followed seconds after to join your fluids, spilling out onto the floor with a dirty sounding splatter.

Just moments after hearing the sound did you finally speak. “I just mooooopped.” You manage to whine out, still being supported by Hawk’s arm. He chuckled and tried to let you go but your legs quickly buckled out from under you. Catching you, he swiftly picked you up into his arms and held you.

“I’ll take care of that. First off, I think we need another bath.” He smiled down and your embarrassed expression, fully grasping the fact you two just fucked like wild animals in the kitchen.

“B-But the food.” You stammer out.

He laughed that hearty deep honeyed laugh that made warmth spread over you, “I did say dinner first, but...I’ll let it slide this time. May I kiss you? I don’t know, you just look so kissable right now.”

A smirk spread across your lips, “Now you’re being polite hm?” Despite your teasing you nod and meet his lips as he walks with you in his arms to the shower.

“Let’s see if we can fulfil a hentai trope next huh?” The winged hero exclaims excitedly, making you stare at him shell shocked. You could only laugh weakly, knowing you were probably in for a long evening. Thank goodness for crock pots, or your dinner would have surely been burnt.

#takami keigo #takami keigo x reader #bnha manga #my hero academia #bnha smut #hawks #hawks x reader

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flowerkidlove · 3 years

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Hello! I encourage any who see this to read it. I've spent roughly two hours redrafting this.

We are a system and recently, one of our headmates was accused of being ableist. We would take this directly to them, but they did it anonymously. Before I get to what we've been lead to believe is the reason, I would like to point out that the system's body is disabled and there's not a single one of us who isn't disabled, neurodivergent or mentally ill in some way - including the alter who was accused of being ableist. The alter in question is autistic, psychotic, depressed, anxious, semi-verbal, hard of hearing, has PTSD, night terrors, sleep paralysis and has dyscalculia. The body itself has three chronic pain conditions, an autoimmune disease, a suppressed immune system, is hard of hearing, has kidney disease and is highly likely to develop some form of cancer before we hit our 40's. The fact that we, a traumagenic system, have DID needs no explanation, but here we are anyway. Despite this all, we have a job - it's not a good one by any means. We work, at maximum, an hour and a half a day and are frequently victims of casual ableism in the workplace (often to the point where our paychecks get held for a pay period because our boss doesn't like how we did something). Despite what little money we make (and the fact that we have to rely on food stamps, housing and disability payments), we donate portions of our money to various charities and relief funds, some of which include ones for disabled individuals, while also trying to survive and also save up for a graphics card so we can try and get a job as a youtuber and/or twitch streamer so we can leave our dehumanizing job. We don't talk about most of this because, to us, it feels strange having all of it out on the internet. It also feels personally wrong to talk about our donations. Feels like we're bragging, to be honest.

Now that our background is out for all to see, let's get to the point of the matter - the things that may have given someone the impression that at least one of us is ableist.

The first one I'll explain is simple - a post about how Discord servers that have blacklists often handle said things poorly, to the point where every possible topic you could talk about was on some of them, leading members of our systems to get triggered by things due to having to reveal all spoilers just to see what was being talked about. Nobody ever said that they were bad, just that, because of this experience, we don't feel comfortable in them.

The second is less easy to explain - a conversation (later dubbed a discourse?) about the canon-ness of Chell being mute. The alter in question has Portal has a major special interest and has since before the game even came out, thanks to our mom being a playtester of the game. I won't get into the details, but basically, the alter wanted to share some information and got a little overexcited about it, to the point where some people thought they were trying to say that having Chell being mute as a headcanon was awful and terrible because of canonical things - which was never said. In fact, the alter themself actually holds nonverbal autistic Chell headcanons close to their heart because they are semiverbal and go nonverbal when overwhelmed. They just also think that if there is canon information, it should be shared. The repetition of "my mom playtested the game" is an inside joke. It means nothing other than the fact that she played the game before other people. She uses it to try and get a laugh out of people, especially when it has next to nothing to do with the situation (like this one that I'm talking about right here). The alter does regret getting so excited about sharing the information and even apologizes to anyone who felt hurt by their words. I also couldn't help but notice an ask saying they were saying there was a "wrong" and "right" way to see a character - something that literally never got brought up until that particular ask - I went back and read the entire ordeal.

The third involves the beginning of the above situation - a simple statement that they find the "dangerous mute lunatic" line from Portal 2 hilarious, as they tend to call themself that in a lighthearted way (and also just find GLaDOS funny in general). I have nothing else to say on that one.

The alter in question is one of the kindest people I've had the fortune to meet. Unfortunately, in order to make people more comfortable and not hurt anyone else inadvertently, they've decided to step back from the blog that they created. To be fair, they rarely contributed to it these days, opting to let the rest of us run it and occasionally ramble due to things involving one of the system's abusers (moreso hers, but he's bullied the entire system off of previous accounts and sent us into hiding twice now).

Now, I personally wouldn't care about having words thrown around about us* if it wasn't for the fact that this entire situation has made the alter have a shutdown and fall into a delusion that our aforementioned abuser has found us once again and is going to try and hurt us. As such, I felt the need to clear things up. Again, I'd take this directly to the person, but they called us an ableist through an anonymous ask, so we really can't. I can only send this and hope that it gets posted and furthermore gets seen and fully read by whoever thinks we're ableist. I also hope it clears things up, because this is one Hell of an accusation.

Sincerely,

Gordon from the system behind @abbyfreemansmind

*EDIT: Thinking about it and going beyond the irony of us being called ableist, it just doesn't sit right with me. Working on the assumption that it's regarding one of the three things above, the person is basically turning an overly excited conversation about Portal canon into evidence that we discriminate against (or even hate) disabled people. Aside from the fact that we ourselves are disabled, a scroll through our blog shows a lot of proof that we're far from discriminatory against our fellow disabled people - or anyone aside from discriminatory and harmful people (homophobes, racists, transphobes, ableists, maps, terfs, etc.).

#idk what to tag this as but #idk #i'm sorry #submission

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ashenburst · 4 years

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Any Which Way

Mista x Reader, fluff (?), 4366 words - oh GOD do I hate this one and I apologize if it sucks in advance I just aaa had no coherent ideas whatsoever and I was trying to write fluff at the time my brain was screaming angst and - well, it shows. Anyway.

Mista is acting up because you fed the Pistols. Oh no.

When Mista asked you out, you told him his joke was tasteless. When Mista asked you out for the second time, you didn’t feel well enough. The third time, wondrously, your grandmother needed your assistance. He didn’t bother asking you for the fourth time.

It was a long gag running between the two of you, and the run started off wrongly. A marathon ought to begin with a leisure pace, and only by the near end should the contestants accelerate – this method would provide optimal results. Your situation was the exact opposite. Naturally, it did not turn out well enough.

At least for you, because you knew this was a silly mishap, from the beginning to the end. Yes, you may had been mean the first time, but it was an automated reaction: Mista was a jokester, and you enjoyed retorting. Many of the interactions weren’t serious, simply put. You were in Buccellati’s team for around a week and this dynamic had already been established.

So when he casually asked you out, after knowing you for such a short period, you brushed it off with a retort. For a moment, though, you were a mess. To be asked out by a guy this pretty, this… cool? Unbelievable, truly – it was only natural that shock rendered you dazed. Then, you procured a reply fitting to that disbelief you were stunned with: a snarky comeback. Afterwards, he quickly changed the subject, but did not change in behavior. There was no flinch in his voice, no meaningful allusion to the possible date, no, nothing at all. You had a valid reason to believe it wasn’t a sincere question.

And once you borrowed more thought to that matter, logic grounded your idea. You had seen Mista flirt with other girls, which meant he had a social life outside the mafia. This was not surprising, he had quite the unique charm. Therefore, he could certainly get together with people who were better than you.

However, this pondering had a side effect. The gunslinger crept onto your mind, binding your daily reflections into a slow realization that, perhaps, you had a thing for him.

But you didn’t feel bad. If anything, you were glad that he was your friend. Although his company was a gnawing reminder of your growing feelings, at the end of the day, he fulfilled you – and you supposed you fulfilled him too. Not once did he bully you, so you took that as a positive sign. On the other hand, you had a slight bullying tendency towards him. Teasing him was something he always loved to respond to, dramatically, exaggerated, which would cause much laughter to the both of you. In other words… there was no harm done.

The next two times you were asked out held terrible luck to them. You simply could not make it. Upon uttering your excuse, in both cases, Mista laughed, commented, and moved on. Swiftly and comically, just the usual. You were left to rethink the tinge in your heart.

This third fiasco had occurred just a couple of days ago. What remained of it was – null, just some void of reminiscence that irked your daydreaming. Early in the morning, in Libeccio, you couldn’t enjoy your drink. The haziness of your mind did not carry a pleasant undercurrent. You did not know what to make of it, or what to remake of it. You were left to stare at your own beverage, hand on your chin, as your empty thoughts tumbled.

It was quite peaceful. The kind of peaceful you’d see in the first morning classes back in school. People all around you were barely awake, and quietly agreed to bask in the mutual silence.

That is, until Buccellati strolled in. His lively “buongiorno” made you flinch. Where did that energy come from?

The team leader explained himself. He already had a long discussion with some Mario La-something (you weren’t focused enough to catch that) and its result was a mission. You clenched your jaw. This early in the morning? Damn. You could only pray you wouldn’t be picked, you really weren’t in the mood –

But alas, Murphy’s law was in effect.

Buccellati rightfully deduced that there was something going on between you and Mista. Therefore he stated, “I’m sending (Y/N) and Mista on this mission, due to their remarkable chemistry.” Something that was, allegedly, apparent right from the start.

Not only that. Buccellati’s decision was (objectively speaking) great, as your and Mista’s stand were a powerful combo. Speaking of the Pistols, there was the amusing fact that you would die internally whenever you saw them. You surely were looking forward to that, and… cooperating with Mista too. This might work out well.

Someone tapped on your shoulder, making you jump in your seat. Looking at the culprit, you weren’t surprised to uncover his identity. It was him.

“Let’s go, sleepyhead,” Mista urged, wiggling his thick brows. Your smile was inevitable. “Or you’d rather trade places with Abbacchio?” He questioned with a smirk.

“Huh?” You took a glance at Abbacchio, and immediately scowled. He somehow slid so much down his chair that his chin was touching his chest – and he was sleeping soundly. How come you didn’t notice?

“Too bad, you can’t trade places with Abbacchio. Duty calls. Come on, on your feet,” Mista blabbered, which barely worked on your half-conscious self. You let our yet another “huh” which was followed by a disturbed squeak – Mista started pulling you up. You had no choice but to stand up.

“(Y/N) secured, Buccellati!” Mista proudly announced. Buccellati wasn’t too impressed. You, however, were impressed by the fact Mista was so… awake, all of a sudden.

Mista then put a hand on Narancia’s shoulder. “Okay, before we go, Narancia – you know what you’re supposed to do, right?”

The boy had a similar reaction to yours. “Eh? What?”

Mista nodded towards Abbacchio. Narancia grinned. You bit your lip, both grateful and sad you’d miss this. That was how you were brought back to your senses, and how you departed for the task.

Now, the nature of the mission was simple, but it took so long. Until you got there, until you found the exact location, until Mista talked with his Pistols (and you tried to, too), etcetera, etcetera – in the end, it took you hours to complete it. Funnily enough, you didn’t even take out your own stand. So, in your eyes, this was a complete waste of time.

Luckily, with that over, you two were free to go. Not before Mista had a little chit-chat with his stand, praising them all for a job well done. However, he didn’t really get the reaction he expected – instead of the usual one, just a “yay” in unison, the Pistols began asking Mista for a reward. A snack, to be specific. Mista quickly turned them down.

“It isn’t lunchtime yet, everyone, you’ll spoil your appetite,” he explained himself, only for the Pistols to start loudly pleading him for food. Mista crossed his arms.

“Come on guys, have some patience. We’ll go back to Libeccio just in time for lunch.”

It was a solid argument. Did that help? No, not at all. The Pistols were still floating in front of Mista and screaming with their tiny voices about how hungry they were. Their user, acting like the usual tired parent, tried to subdue them – but to no avail. They continued rambling, almost every single one of them, like spoiled children. Because, although did not want to be viewed that way, they truly were children. Even the fact they denied it supported the idea.

But these were no ordinary crybabies. They were sly and awfully intelligent, all while maintaining their characteristic lighthearted aura. Those childish antics? They lead to chaos, sometimes even to brutal honesty.

Mista got to deal with the downsides of that, but you? You would just stand aside. And whenever you did get to interact with those Pistols, you were exposed to downpours of compliments and almost perfect behavior. The brutal honesty? It came in the form of their heartfelt words and actions, as you were able to discipline them better than Mista could ever hope to. They listened to you, which came as no surprise.

Because Mista always played the role of the bad cop. In contrast, you were the good cop. It was only natural – you adored them, you had every reason to.

Taking all of these things into account, you couldn’t help but feel bad for them. You took their side.

“But Mista, they performed exceptionally well on this mission. On an empty stomach! Maybe they do deserve a little something, look at them. They’re desperate,” you made sure to point out. The Pistols approved of their new advocate.

“There’s no way in hell I’m wasting my money on them when we have free food at Libeccio,” Mista said, causing various sounds of disappointment. Even you sighed. He rolled his eyes.

“Come on now, shush, let’s go.” He waved his hand at the Pistols who did their best to ignore that.

“Aww, but Mista, we deserve a reward! You told us we did a great job! And! And (Y/N) agrees!” One of the Pistols was heard clearly. You nodded in approval, which Mista didn’t notice. He was too weirded out.

“What’s up with you? Why are you so persistent all of a sudden? I told you not to do this,” his tone suddenly hushed down. Now it was your turn to roll your eyes. He had no idea how to handle the situation, evidently – the Pistols wouldn’t shut up unless they were fed. It was as simple as that.

You shot another question at him, “And why won’t you let them have a snack, Mista?”

“I think I’ve been yelling my reasons up until now,” he murmured.

“Look, your method isn’t working. They won’t calm down. Why don’t you just give in and basically do the right thing?”

Mista made a disgruntled “eh” to that.

“Don’t be on their side. Just don’t. Please,” he pleaded, irritation lowering his tone. He kept that act of an exhausted father even with you – and this confused you. “Why?”

“Because,” Mista said, then paused, waving his hand towards the Pistols who were already parading in joy, “they’re impossible.”

“Impossible? Them? Ha, I wonder why. Maybe because you aren’t a good parental figure,” you teased.

“That isn’t true,” Mista quickly responded, clearly displeased. “If anything, they’re acting like this because they are a reflection of who I am. I’m not perfect, neither are they, but as you can see, I’m trying to make them… better.” He took a deep breath, and you had to think that, woah, he truly was invested. “I know them the best, because they are me and mine, so the task is on me,” he finished.

To that verbal essay, you simply shrugged. “Yeah, sure. So you know they’ll get quiet once they have what they want.”

Reluctantly, Mista nodded. “They need to be taught patience, though,” he added.

You were quick to counter. “Or do they need to be rewarded for doing great?”

You assumed this fried Mista’s brain because he couldn’t devise a proper response. His face, however, depicted the reply quite clearly – a pout appeared, such a childish move coming from the user of a childish stand. Soon, however, he had to react. The Pistols were getting too excited.

He waved his arms in a surrendering gesture, and almost hit some of the Pistols while doing so… purposefully or not. “Fine, you win. What’s your grand idea for the reward?”

That was where your little snack came in. Something you carried around in case a mission would appear out of nowhere. You once had the displeasure of going on a day-long mission without anything proper to eat. This instance, you weren’t hungry enough for the fruit. “I… can give them my apple,” you suggested. You were sure they wouldn’t mind. Their appetite was so blind, they would eat anything.

Mista, on the other hand, once again acted baffling. His eyes widened after he had heard your offer, and he denied it. “Aw, no, (Y/N) you won’t –”

But you interrupted him. “Again? Why?” Now, why was he so insistent on not letting them eat? Out of all people in the team, he was the most relaxed one. Even if he were trying to lecture the Pistols and set an example for them, he didn’t have to go this far. It was out of character, to say the least.

Strangely, it seemed as if he too was confused – he paused, as a furrow brought his brows together. “That’s your apple. Don’t waste it on them,” he reasoned strictly. Strictly?

You sighed, already removing your backpack. Mista obviously had ulterior motives, but you couldn’t care less. The Pistols wouldn’t be silenced until they had their meal – and not only that, but they deserved it. If only Mista realized that…

Maybe he did? Nevertheless, something was going on in his mind. You looked over to him. He was staring at you, despite the mess some of the Pistols were making in front of him. Number Five was already on the verge of tears. Oh, he was definitely hiding something.

You reciprocated his stern tone. “I’m not hungry, but they are hungry. Who should eat the apple? Them. Seems pretty logical to me.”

At long last, Mista gave up. “Aw, man, there really is no arguing with you, huh?” He waved his head in disbelief. “Alright, have it your way. I suppose there’s no harm done.”

And on that cue, the Pistols all flew towards you, squeaking their gratefulness. They were already in front of your face, telling you how amazing you were and how thankful they were. Just a bunch of overjoyed little gremlins. You couldn’t help but giggle.

“Thank you, everyone, thank you,” you barely managed to utter, overwhelmed with their excitement. You had to stop and stare for a moment there – they were actually flailing their hand and feet in the air, performing a dance of sorts. They were that happy! It warmed your heart, it really did.

So, to reward them. As soon as you took it out, they were decimating the apple.

It looked like carnage. You were about to look away when you noticed something odd.

Did… did Number Three just push Number Five? Were you seeing that well? Yeah, you definitely were, since Number Three was now shoving his tiny hand into Number Five’s face.

“Number Three! Don’t be such a meanie, there’s enough for everyone,” you warned.

He looked up to you, his eyes squinted, then he huffed. “Sheesh, fine.”

“Thank you so much, (Y/N),” Number Five mumbled, his voice high-pitched on the brink of breaking, as usual.

“You’re welcome!” You offered a reassuring smile, and the little stand mustered one too. Your heart was melting. You had to squeal.

That attracted Number Three’s attention. “Ass-kisser,” he grumbled. You gasped.

That was when Mista came in. He stepped by your side, pointed at them, and ordered, “Oi, Pistols, behave yourselves! You don’t wanna leave a bad impression on (Y/N), now, do you?”

Naturally, they screamed a “nu-uh”.

You heard their user sigh. “Just as I thought, whew,” he spoke in relief.

You looked over to Mista, and he mustered a smile.

“You were asking the Pistols what’s wrong with them,” you told him, “but in reality, it’s you who has been acting weird.”

He chuckled. “What do you mean?”

The apple in your hand weighted so little that you had to give it a peek. Or at least, you gave a peek to of its last fragments as they were being devoured. They actually ate everything.

Redirecting your attention back to Mista, you told him what was on your mind. “You’re too… uptight. Relax a little, will you?”

“Ah, that. Absolutely, relaxing straight away!”

His showcase of relaxation was stretching himself. What an incredible way to put his muscles on display – but you knew better than to ogle. To avoid the possibility of being flustered, you looked away. The Pistols were a much more pleasant sight. Sitting on your palm, just enjoying the aftermath of their meal.

“Pistols! It’s go time, come here,” you heard their user’s demand, and you watched as they flew back to Mista. They vanished, and thus, the entire hassle was over with. Thanks to you, it was done so in no time. You almost felt victorious.

That would mean that only you and Mista were left – alone. This wasn’t a problem on your way to the mission, but now, after everything you had witnessed, some awkwardness spawned in the air. It was a shame, truly. You finally had some time alone with Mista and you were getting these weird vibes from him, and they unsettled you. Perhaps for a good reason.

The only way to find out more was through communication. You decided to be straightforward, and did not hesitate to inquire, “Alright, so, what’s up with you?”

Mista jumped, as if it were a gunshot he heard instead of your question. “M-me?”

“Yes, you. Have you seen the number four or something?”

“Ew, no. Why are you askin’ – have you seen it?!” He was already getting panicky.

Probably yes, but unlike Mista, you didn’t bother noticing and remembering them. “Nope. But why are you acting so weird? You okay?”

“What exactly are you referring to?”

“You being way too strict with the Pistols.”

He laughed. “Oh. That stupid thing. It’s nothing. Dontcha worry.”

“I am worried. You seemed too aggravated. Almost as if you weren’t yourself.”

He placed a hand on his chest, his expression that of astonishment. “Now that is what you call a surprise.”

You shook your head in misunderstanding. “What are you talking about?”

He then placed a hand on your shoulder and offered you his tearful answer. “You worrying about me! I didn’t know you would do that!”

You were partially offended by this act because, by all accords, you cared about him, more than he could ever imagine. Mista probably caught the meaning of your grim face, so he let go of your shoulder and talked on.

“Kidding, I know you care. Anyway, yeah, they messed up big time. We had a chat, me and the Pistols, and would you believe it, they act like brats so they could get you to take their side.”

Despite the annoyed façade you put on, you had to laugh. Those sly little gremlins, brightening your mood even when they weren’t present.

“Are they like this with everyone or?” You had to ask – because as far as you had seen, nobody was as privileged as you were.

“Nah, just you. You’re the only one who’s willing to help ‘em anyway.” He put a hand on his chin, completely discarding your sudden smile. “Come to think of it, (Y/N), you’re too… hm…”

“I’m what?” You tilted your head, and he snapped his fingers.

“Nice! I think that’s the right word. You’re just too nice.”

Well, isn’t that a lovely thing to hear. “Aww, why, thank you.”

“Yeah, now listen up, you should really take care! There are bad people out there who can take advantage of that!” He raised a finger in the air to further emphasize his point.

“Err, Mista, hate to break it to you, but I’m literally a member of the mafia. I doubt that can happen.”

“And yet you’re so sweet! Sometimes, at least,” he whispered the last bit, and before you could say anything to that, he continued. “I’m telling you this for a reason. I mean, did you know that the Pistols were abusing your kindness?”

“Not that I was aware, and not that it mattered,” you replied with staggering indifference. Mista, on the other hand, was overly jumpy. This was so odd.

He went from one extreme to another in a handful of moments. The shift was so unusually stark that it left you perplexed. Lost in thought, you didn’t pay much attention to Mista’s future ramblings.

“You get it? You – you didn’t recognize their scheme! They’re acting all whiny because they know you’ll react. As I said, you’re too good… for your own good.”

Did you hear that well? You looked at him with a raised brow. He winked.

That sort of “joke” or whatever it was, deserved only a snort. That’s what you gave him, and he wasn’t pleased in the least.

“Did you just – oh come on (Y/N), why not actually laugh? Laugher is so healthy! It prolongs life expectancy. Or am I really that unfunny?”

“You’re the funniest, Mista, don’t you worry about that,” you told him, and as a reassuring act, pat his head (or at least, his hat). His eyes widened and he smiled after the initial shock. You suddenly became aware of what you did, and you averted your gaze elsewhere to continue your explanation. “I… suppose I am simply confused as to why you are so…”

“Worried?”

“Yeah, I guess, among other things.”

He provided you with an elaboration spoken through the smile you had caused him. “Worried, yeah, I am worried because you’re too nice to some people. You see, (Y/N), just like you, I’m simply confused as fuck. Some people get that nice treatment, and sometimes they’re undeserving of that. I mean, just look at you. You’re so weak for the Pistols. Like… why do you like ‘em so much, anyway?”

You looked over to him with squinted eyes. What was this question about?

He leaned in close. “Are they cute? Or just adorably… bratty? Is that what you like?”

It clicked. It finally clicked.

“Mista… oh, Mista…” You began laughing. This was unbelievable.

You were being such a prick towards him sometimes. It was no wonder why he went crazy once he saw you were actually capable of being so caring and sweet for none other than his stand. His stand! The irony! He must’ve been so jealous, even desperate, to see you side with them and not him.

And if he truly suffered from jealousy, well, only one thing could cause it. The revelation, no, the mere possibility was so wonderful –

“You okay?”

Not at all, but he didn’t have to know that. Shit, you had to do something – but what? Maybe this was the opportunity for you to come clean after all this time, and for him to, finally, admit if he was being serious or not. You took a deep breath and decided to delve deeper.

You took him by the arm, which scared Mista, who yelped. You looked in his dark, so comfortingly black eyes, and the lashes that softened their still gaze – and he looked back into yours with unyielding focus.

“You know the saying: it’s not you, it’s me. Well, in this case, it is you,” you chiefly began, and it was enough to bewilder Mista. “You are jealous of them,” you accused, and it did not go as you expected.

Then and there, he broke into a laughing fit. So much so, that you had to let go of him. You thought that, indeed, this was too blatantly exaggerated – but it was no bad thing! It could still, somehow, turn into something good!

He finally calmed down, and naturally, denied the envy. “Pfft. Me? Jealous of them? That’s ridiculous, (Y/N), very funny, ten out of ten, top-notch humor.”

“Aww, top-notch acting, Mista,” you reciprocated the compliment boldly. Despite that sarcasm, he was a grinning mess, and he immediately moved past it.

“Say, hypothetically, what would you do if I were jealous? Just what would you do?” His question was characterized by some shy excitement, as he darted his focus away from your face, then back at it, in rapid repetitions. And you were buying it. You were totally buying it.

But not to accelerate this suddenly delicate conversation, you continued that teasing tone – although your heart was pounding, mind buzzing. You knew things were set in motion and you had to be very careful about what you said next.

And what was on your mind? Mista, who was standing right in front of you, with that heartfelt and yet undoubtedly cheesy smile; his eyes that bore into yours, expectant, so shamelessly looking for a reply. All of that, such a rightfully overwhelming visage, it was too much – and you bent your head slightly, averted your gaze slightly, and with the same rocky smoothness offered him a truthful answer, “Laugh at you, because… it’s adorable.”

His eyes widened, lips parted – now, perhaps he too was having a whirlwind inside his mind. “You think so?”

“Y-yeah, I mean, I…”

And there you have it, the embarrassment you knew would be your doom. You were so unsure what to speak, what to do, even. Should you just say it? Get it over with –

But Mista just ruffled your hair. “Save it for a better time. Say, are you hungry?”

You swallowed hard. “Are you...?”

“Yes, I am,” he confirmed.

That didn’t make any sense, because, as you recalled… “But… isn’t this the fourth time –“

Mista jumped backwards, utterly and wholly terrified. “What the fuck?! Okay, we’re skipping this one too, sorry, (Y/N), but I can’t do this! There’s no way I’m putting either of us in danger because of a date!” He waved his hands around in what you perceived as comical outrage.

In it, you found some amusement. It relieved you, and relief was what you needed. The aftermath of this conundrum left you with an obnoxious heartbeat, and at long last, it was quieting down. Therein laid some peace, and with it, you garnered a brilliant idea. “And what if I invited you to that date? As… attempt number five.”

And he was shocked. Did it align with his logic? Or was the risk of the deadly number too high?

After what seemed like an eternity of processing, Mista’s expression shifted to that of an overjoyed one. He chuckled, commented, “Honestly? I’m sure Buccellati wouldn’t mind it if we were a little late,” and pulled you by your waist, ready to drag you to that goddamned date.

#definitely not my proudest gamer moment #mista x reader #guido mista #mista #mista headcanon #vento aureo x reader #jojo x reader #jjba x reader

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backandimbamon · 5 years

Text

yes i spontaneously wrote a bamon drabble because i can never get their dialogue out of my head (:

Damon knew Bonnie.

In fact, he knew her so well that he could paint her with ease on an intimidatingly large canvas, blindfolded, holding the paintbrush behind his back.

They spent an aggressive amount of time together, plus he was a vampire so his Bonnie experience was intense- not one detail went amiss.

Like for instance, she liked her natural nails to have length, and never chose nail polish outside of flesh tones; her go-to was a sandy nude but it had to be just translucent enough to reveal a bit of her cuticle.

And the fact that she wasn’t a perfume girl, but more of an earthy oil type. If he could bottle her up in a fragrance it’d be a concoction of patchouli and vanilla, a hint of citrus zest and a bit of a floral scent because whenever she couldn’t sleep at night, she’d sprinkle lavender oil on her pillow which eventually would embed itself in her hair.

Oh, and when he fixed her breakfast she never failed to complain about his pancakes but she would always do an exciting finger wiggle before grabbing a fork and digging in.

The prison world did something to her. To them. He had ample amount of time to observe and truly see the little witch for who she was, an opportunity never granted to him before. In the strange case of forced matrimony, Damon was able to fully see Bonnie Bennet sans overbearing, attention-seeking friends, even if one was his beloved girlfriend.

There was always Elena and after that, Elena’s shadow, and after that, Vampire Barbie but in the prison world there were none and he saw elements of himself attach to Bon Bon like friction particles during traction. And even stranger, Bonnie was completely unaware, behaving in a very Damon-like manner as if she had always done so, like she had coined the phrases, prolonged the banter, carried the stichomythia all along. Like he himself was the imposter.

Seriously, all Bonnie needed was a black leather jacket and a Camaro and she’d be his own personal mini me.

And even when his hope of returning floated away like a stray balloon, forever with her didn’t seem that bad.

To say the silent truth didn’t make Damon’s heart warm would be a lie. Developing a strong eventual friendship with someone who wanted you dead years prior could heat even the iciest of hearts.

So he had positively known her. He had seen her face, day in and day out for months on end; clay brown skin, leaf green eyes, a smirking mouth (another habit she picked up from him, he noticed proudly,) with a bone structure a model would envy, Damon hadn’t thought of any other equation that personified Bonnie Shelia Bennett.

She was very pretty in a way that snuck up on him over the years, he became accustomed to her beauty because he could accept it, it was manageable and tame. Not a loud or demanding beautiful but a sacred and layered one.

Bonnie was basically sugar, spice, everything nice, with chemical x as her magical witchy woo woo.

But who knew something as simple as a new hairstyle could change someone so drastically.

“So what do you think?” She asked, brimming with a poorly contained excitement.

It was a quiet day in Mystic Falls, no monsters to fight, or talisman to acquire. She had just entered the boarding house as Damon grabbed a Bourbon from the kitchen, tumbler held by a lazy grip. His eyelids lowered.

Gone was the modest brown bob, the one that allowed her to be pretty but not intimidatingly so. The hairstyle that he had expected from her; the witch’s default to not draw too many eyes for fear of being unnecessarily seen.

Gone was the beauty that was also his because she shared it with him like a secret gift. Only Damon Salvatore could witness the depth since he was always too close, always too invasive and she had trusted him just enough to let her guard down. It was theirs but now it was hers.

In the place of the brown bob was silken chocolate roots blended into caramel-colored barrel curls that tumbled down her frame. Her face was more intense, skin browner, eyes moodier, lips no longer smirking but pouting instead. She looked more mature and not like the sweetheart that he had come to adore but more like a bombshell, a sex symbol- hot...

It was odd.

He was captivated by her face, how different she looked, an effortlessly sexy appeal that was so un-Bonnie-like that he probably would’ve hit on her if she wasn’t his best friend.

Damon was drinking in her appearance with veiled appreciation but she couldn’t know that. He contorted his brows in thought and brought a cocked hand up to his chin quizzically.

“Hmm...” he said walking closer and examining, if only to buy him more time to stare at her, study her, secretly admire her.

She narrowed her eyes, crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head in annoyance.

“Damon it doesn’t take this long, you either like it or you don’t.” That excitement had digressed to something else as she ran her fingers through her long hair self-consciously.

He stepped up to her, invading her space as he normally did, and pinched a few strands of hair between his thumb and forefinger.

“You’re right Bonnie, I don’t like it.” He said cavalierly, just to get a reaction out of her, just to make her feel a little less gorgeous because it was making him uncomfortable.

She stuck out her chin, arms still folded, “It’s not like I did it for you.”

The statement hung in the air like she had options, almost as if meek Bonnie Bennett had men standing in lines to take her out. Like her excitement to show him her new look only moments before didn’t exist because his opinion was no more important than the dust particles in the air.

“It’s okay if you don’t like it.” She stated, mouth certainly pouting now. He could see her defenses activating. “You’re entitled to your own opinion. This new look has nothing to do with you and everything to do with me and what I want. I think it’s-“

He rolled his eyes. “Save the women-empowerment speech for someone who actually cares, Bon Bon. I love it.”

“What?”

“Your new hairstyle. I don’t like it, I love it.” He over-enunciated.

That bubbling excitement returned, “You do?”

“Yeah. You’re blonde now,” he smirked and stepped even closer if that was possible. He circled her, eyes sliding up and down his Bon Bon to reassert that only he could be the sexy one in their duo, not her. No one else could master sexy the way Damon had. It leaked from him, she couldn’t compete with him for such a title. But Bonnie was barely bothered. Impulsively, her eyes rolled as he continued to walk around her as if he were critiquing an art display. He stopped in front of her.

“Little Miss Blondie Bennett.”

“How original.”

“I know, I put a lot into that nickname.” His hand was in her tresses before he could even register what he was doing, fingertips at her scalp, gliding to the tips of her hair with a light pressure. He released, then swept up the wisps of hair on the nape of her neck and tugged gently. Loose curls fell around his grasp.

“Didn’t your mother teach you not to touch a lady’s hair?” Her eyes were foggy when she gave him a weak glare and gooseflesh rose on her skin.

“Do I look like I listened to my mother?”

He still had her hair in his grip and he tightened it a bit for emphasis before dropping his hand abruptly.

There was something that stretched between them, like maybe it was cruel to have a stunning little witch and an eerily handsome vampire only be friends. Like maybe Damon should keep his hands to himself because other thoughts could arise like why hadn’t he noticed Bonnie like this before? Out of all the women he’s crossed paths with, why was it impossible to imagine the witch as a sexual being? Why did she seem above carnality? And Bonnie could think why she hadn’t allowed herself to be noticed, what made her decide to hide herself, to keep walls so high that it would take years to cave in? She could ask herself what it was that made her a supporting character of her own life; who would she be if she allowed one misstep, had made one wrong move? Would Bonnie Bennett still be Bonnie Bennett if she put herself first?

Blonde hair was a baby step.

The presence of Elena was there and not, omnipotent as the sun between the world of Bonnie and Damon because there was no way they could see each other in any other light outside of friendship. And Damon was seriously questioning why he couldn’t possibly fathom, could hardly bring himself to whisper the phrase, sex with Bonnie.

Bonnie was his first best friend ever. In his multitude of years, he hadn’t blurred that line like he did with the long list of women he met before. He could think of not one platonic friendship in his history of friendships that was with a woman. She really was his first. It was like there was a block in his mind that prevented him from seeing her that way.

It was... strange.

The silence was stretching, as thoughts blossomed between them about themselves and one another. But of course the duration wasn’t too long.

“You went to a salon?” Damon asked, attempting to rid the moment of that gentle intimacy as he held her eyes.

“Yeah, it was this guy from Atlanta. He said a caramel, slightly ash blonde color makes the green in my eyes more intense.” She paused. “Caroline’s gonna flip,”

“Yeah she’s not the only blonde in town now.” His eyes widened. “You’ll probably have to mud wrestle to fight for the official title.”

“How classy of you, Demon. I mean Damon. I think.”

“Ha, ha.”

He could feel himself staring at her in a weird, pensive way, despite his lighthearted banter. She looked like the exact opposite of him bottled up in a human being. She was stunning.

“I’m guessing you didn’t listen to your mother when she said it’s impolite to stare either.” Bonnie chimed smugly.

Damon didn't laugh, his eyes grew sincere as he held eye contact with her in a way that used to make her feel uncomfortable before she became accustomed to it.

“All jokes aside, you are beautiful, Bonnie Bennett."

Those words had never fallen from his lips before. Especially never with such a seriousness. It was a fragile phrase, profound and evocative because she couldn’t recall the last time someone told her that.

Her face grew rosy with flattery and maybe embarrassment. “Thank you, Damon.”

She could see how Elena could have fallen for Damon, regardless of Stefan Salvatore and his handsome, chivalrous nature. Everyone warned you against men like Damon because they could get anything they wanted out of you and the world. A wolf in wolf’s clothing. Somehow frightening and irresistible at the same time. He was the shiny apple, red as sin in the garden of eden, plump and juicy and ready to be eaten. It was only natural for Elena to succumb. Most women would if the apple was dangling so dangerously low to their lips.

But sometimes, like then, he wasn’t so predictable. He took you by surprise when you least expected it. Because he wasn’t just enigmatic, he was flesh, bone, almost human. He had feelings and reactions and even he could be taken aback by his best friend with blonde hair. And even he could appreciate a beauty that wasn’t just Elena’s without feeling guilty.

“Little Blondie Bennett. I could just eat you right up.”

He really could.

#bamon #bamon fanfiction #bamon shippers club #damon salvatore #bonnie bennett #bamon fic #bamon fanfic #damon x bonnie #bonnie x damon

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saixy · 5 years

Text

fears

Post-KH3. A parallel between past and present. Isa looks back on his old worries as a child, and how this fear shifted over time.

- - - - -

“What’s your biggest fear?”

It was a question prompted by a game they often liked to play while stargazing: truth or dare. The former was typically easiest for him, since the very prospect of Lea’s outlandish dares sparked anxiety. “Death,” Isa eventually answered, albeit reluctantly. “Or rather, the thought of nonexistence.” He had never really spoken on the matter before. There had been no need, as their conversations were predominantly lighthearted in nature. Isa preferred to keep things like this to himself, for the most part. Lea wore his heart on his sleeve, but Isa prided himself on being difficult to read. Lea was seemingly exempt from this rule. Annoying as it could be, Isa was glad for someone who could understand him to such an extent. “Why? We’re immortal, remember?” It was a ridiculous notion, one that Lea seemed rather fond of. Immortality had been a joke between them for a long while now, prompted by Lea’s miraculous ability to escape stupidly risky situations with little more than a scratch. Isa snorted with thinly veiled amusement. “What are you talking about? Everyone dies, Lea.” “Hey, don’t say that.” Lea shifted to a sitting position, leaning over Isa with an uncharacteristically serious expression. Isa craned his neck to the side, as Lea’s face was now blocking his view of the sky. “Right, sorry. You can live forever in memories, stuff like that.” Lea had always been rather adamant on that subject, more so than anything else they had debated. Isa suspected it played into his own fears, but had never sought confirmation. Lea moved his head again, leaning in closer to place himself at the forefront of Isa’s vision. “Memories are everything, but that’s not what I’m saying here.” He still wore that odd, almost somber expression. “I meant that we’re immortal.”

“That’s not an explanation and you know it.” Isa was impatient and somewhat flustered at the sudden invasion of personal space, but he willed himself to keep his cool. “Us. You and me. Ya know. Like—“ Lea gestured helplessly, waving an arm at the sky overhead. “Like soulmates.” There was a pause, where Isa was rendered temporarily mute from the boldness of the suggestion. “We’ve been dating for less than a week,” he finally said in an incredulous tone. “Shut up! Not just in that way—“ Isa noted the ‘just’ as a sign he had meant it at least partially in a romantic sense. “I mean..I can’t really explain it, but. I feel like no matter what happens, we’ll always be together.” There was a fierce glint in Lea’s eyes, and it was clear his words were sincere. Isa responded in turn, lifting a hand to idly twirl a bit of Lea’s hair that had fallen loose near his face. “If it’s death we’re dealing with, I can’t deny that’s a possibility.” Personally Isa never had expectations for any sort of afterlife, but he was open-minded. “But what about the other thing? Ceasing to exist completely. Losing your identity--your very sense of self-- and never knowing because you wouldn’t be around to comprehend it.” Isa wouldn’t admit it, but this was the aspect of passing on that unsettled him the most. The thought that he could just blink out one day with no warning. Or even worse, without realizing it. Carrying on as a mindless puppet blissfully unaware he had already met his end. That was the plot of the only horror movie that had ever truly frightened him, and it had been lingering in his mind ever since. Isa closed his eyes, shutting out the sun for a moment as he struggled against the whirlpool of mounting panic threatening to drag him down. There was a reason why he never talked about things like this. “Hey,” Lea ghosted fingers across his cheek, searching for tears that Isa absolutely refused to allow. He wasn’t even choked up at all, but it seemed like Lea could sense this was a difficult topic for him. “Forever means forever. Got it memorized?” “You’re being stubborn.” “I am. So what?” “You’re always like this. Especially with the topic at hand, I’ve noticed.” “And you love me for it.” A rather blunt statement for such a new concept to them. Although it wasn’t new at all, not really. They’d always cared deeply for each other, and this was just a previously untouched way of expressing it. “That I do.” Isa hesitated, realizing the boy hovering above him had dodged the point yet again, no doubt purposefully. He wondered if he should push the matter, but decided against it. Instead he leaned forwards slightly, closing the gap between them. It wasn’t their first kiss, and it wouldn’t be their last. But it still had a sense of finality to it, one that Isa could sense even back then. It was as if in that moment, their fate had been sealed. Two things Lea had said that night would stick in Isa’s head over the next decade, becoming a mantra of sorts. Forever is forever, and memories are everything.

- - - - -

It was mostly brief, instinctive flashes of thought and feeling. Rather than concrete memories, they were similar to the lingering remnants of a dream. The more Isa tried to chase them, the more they drifted out of reach. Sometimes he would stare a little too long at the hazy amber reflection of streetlights on rainy pavement, or freeze at the passing sound of a stranger’s laugh. Isa didn’t need to put it into words, and he was grateful for that. Lea seemed to instinctively understand. He had always been good at empathizing with others, a skill Isa had lacked. And so whenever he was struck with one of these odd moments, Lea would wait for him. Always patient, an unwavering beacon of support. Lea helped drag him back down to earth, tying him to the life he had now rather than painful echoes of the past.

And it was a good life, a better one than he’d ever realistically expected. He was home again, finally free from suffocating white walls and the cloying stench of darkness. Reconstruction of the city still had a long way to go, but the Restoration Committee had already made considerable progress in the few years since Radiant Garden was reclaimed. Isa had even managed to snag a spot on their management team, allocating resources where they were needed most and deciding which parts of the city’s old layout to keep and what could be improved upon. He quite enjoyed the work, more so than what he’d initially anticipated going into it. The labor was slow, but ultimately productive. And something that held a lot of meaning to him. It was no dream astronomy job, but he was happy.

The highlight of his day would always be returning to his house, a cozy little abode near the fountain district. The site of their former homes lay further away from the city center, in a segment of the city that had been all but razed to the ground. The higher ups had deemed it a low priority area, which Isa was determined to change. But for now, this location was perfect. Moving in with Lea had been an easy decision, and when Ansem had offered them the house as reparation for the horrors they’d been subjected to as children, he could hardly refuse. Roxas and Xion had an apartment where they attended school in Twilight Town, which was also funded by the castle’s reserves. On breaks and weekends they frequented Radiant Garden, and Isa often flew to Twilight Town after work to hang out or assist them with projects. At first he only visited alongside Lea, but as the awkwardness faded and they settled into more of a family dynamic, Isa would fly over of his own accord. Being split between two cities like this wasn’t ideal, but Isa’s heart and responsibilities lay in Radiant Garden and he couldn't ask those kids to give up the place that had always felt like home to them. They deserved what had been stolen from Lea and himself so long ago: the chance to grow up at their own pace in a safe town surrounded by those who care about them.

It was hard not to think back when he was constantly surrounded with so many reminders of his past. This was a caveat of choosing to live where he’d both grown up and lost his heart. There were memories tied to everything around him. A street where they found a stray dog once, a storm drain that had claimed Lea’s favorite frisbee and led to an impromptu journey through the sewers. These flashes were mostly pleasant, if bittersweet, snapshots into their former life. The painful memories were there too, mainly tied to the castle itself. Working there was stressful at first, but he managed. Isa avoided the labs, and everyone respected this. From the start, it had become obvious that honesty would be a necessity with this arrangement. It was still a struggle to be open even with himself after spending so long shutting people out, but Isa made an effort to try. So he voiced what made him uncomfortable, and confided in his friends whenever he was struggling. He would often reminisce with Lea when they were together. But sometimes he still preferred to ponder things alone. This was one of those nights, as he sat on a fountain’s edge gazing down at the rippling reflection of the moon. During his childhood he had always been somewhat reserved. He was the model student, in the eyes of many. Never afraid to state his opinion when asked, but often choosing to hang back in favor of watching his classmates. Isa felt as if he learned more by analyzing the classroom than from the teachers themselves. He could easily spot the holes in the other student’s arguments and use them to amend and strengthen his own. The process was simple, and one he knew all too well. Observe, pinpoint a weakness, execute. Again, one of those things that stirred up almost-memories. It was bitter ash on his tongue and a glint of steel in the moonlight. A wolf stalking its prey for days on end until it finally determined the optimal moment to lunge for the killing blow and drown the world in gold. Muffled sobs torn out by a blade as ruthless as its owner. It had been easier when he wasn’t in control. Terrifying at first, but he eventually found comfort in the moments where his mind buzzed to static. It was painfully ironic how quickly he had come to accept this fear of losing himself. He was always somewhat present, but his body was on autopilot. ‘Plausible deniability’ was one of the phrases that had been thrown around after the war was won. Many on the side of the keyblade wielders were sympathetic to his position, but there were also those who voted against the pardoning of himself and the others that had been tied up in Xehanort’s plans. In their eyes he was simply a byproduct of darkness, broken beyond repair. Xehanort was dead, so they wanted a scapegoat. It was only natural. The need for blame was understandable, so Isa paid no mind to the glares he sometimes received walking through the city streets. Radiant Garden had suffered greatly, more so than the other worlds claimed by darkness. The Fall happened so swiftly not all were able to relocate in time. And with Ansem and the castle guard opting for a seige approach, the citizens were left to fend for themselves. Many were reborn in a similar fashion to Isa and the rest, but not all. This great loss of life was what drove him forwards in his work to help others, despite the scorn he often received. Once he’d have been outraged to take the blame for a calamity beyond his control, but now Isa carried that weight with a weary acceptance. Of course they all struggled with their own demons, some worse than others. It was their burden to bear, and Isa was fine with it. He was lucky, all things considered. After everything he had still managed to regain his heart, body, and mind. He had a family now, and he loved them more than anything. The sun, the moon, and their two stars shining through the twilight mist. It was a picturesque ending, one fit for a storybook. It was more than he could have ever hoped for. It was entirely unfair. He still felt this lingering sense of dread, as if he shouldn’t be here. Similar to when Lea had dragged him into various schemes of dubious legality in days gone by. Sometimes he entered his own house and for an instant he was holding his breath behind a hedge on the castle grounds. Arguing the technicalities of blame was a fruitless endeavor, as it would do little to ease the crushing weight of guilt that had settled deep within his chest. His memories were fragmented, but he was still very much aware of his own actions within the Organization. He knew the series of events and how everything had played out, but had difficulty recalling anything beyond an impersonal recap. His own thoughts and ghosts of emotions he may have felt at the time were still a mystery for the most part. It seemed Lea had no issues with this, and as such Isa suspected the lack of memories regarding individuality was a result of Xehanort’s prolonged influence over his mind. As far as he knew Terra was the only one who described a similar experience, which only strengthened this theory. He supposed the automatic distance was nice, in a way. It helped build a concrete separation between Saix of the past and himself in the present. Still, at times the cold numbness made him sick. He was working from the facts here, and could only guess at the reasoning behind some of his past actions. Back then he’d convinced himself that miserable state of existence had split him into a being of pure logic. After all, there were no longer any emotions to interfere with his decisions. Nothing to sway him from what must be done. Oh how wrong he was. In retrospect he felt like a fool, denying what had been in plain sight for so long.

Roxas and Xion had made Axel truly feel something again. Tangible, undeniable emotion that defied all reason. And now Isa realized they were to thank for his own shift in demeanor, near the end. Axel’s first taste of emotion had been love for his newfound family. The need to protect what was in front of him had outweighed the tired notion of striving for a seemingly unreachable goal. Years of hard work had granted very little progress in regaining their hearts or finding the girl once held in captivity. And tired of chasing ghosts, Lea had latched onto the present moment and found a cause that could light the spark he’d been seeking for so long. Isa wasn’t so lucky. This pathetic shadow of a heart had manifested itself as jealousy, sharp and bitter. And only then could he feel the underlying anger that had been driving him forward for so long. It was rage beyond reason, a swift undercurrent threatening to overwhelm his senses at any moment. And when he did allow it to take control, it was different from before. Berserking had once sent his consciousness into a state of almost peaceful dissociation. Now it was like wading through a river of dissonance, icy tar filling his lungs as a whirlpool of screams sucked him down into the murky depths. And this Styx became his own personal hell, something he dreaded. Because it made no sense why he’d be struggling with this now, after years of brutal training had hardened his edges and honed him to flawless lethality. The fighting style he’d mastered was hinged on relinquishing control, but he’d never actually felt unsafe while doing so. What had he worked so hard for all these years if his own mind would prove to be his downfall? During those few moments of lucidity in the final battle, he could do little more than hold his head and cry out in agony as daggers pierced his skull and keyblades rained down from above. A call for help, manifesting itself in the only way he knew how. And it had worked, in the end. Despite everything Lea was once again hovering over him, blocking out the sky with his own blinding light. That tearful smile sweetened the taste of death, and the following kiss moments before he faded finally left him with a reason to pray to whatever tyrant god responsible for these endless years of pain for another chance at life. Maybe immortality wasn’t so far from the truth after all.

“You’re upset.”

The sudden voice echoing through the courtyard startled Isa from his thoughts, but he quickly relaxed at the familiar tone. He gave a noncommittal hum, watching Lea approach the fountain where he sat. “I haven’t said a word.”

“Don’t need to.” Lea took a seat beside him, wincing at the shock from the fountain’s spray. Isa was wearing a jacket that slicked off the stray droplets, but Lea’s sweater would no doubt end up soaked. “It’s the way you’re sitting. Like you’re trying to make yourself as small as possible.”

Crossed arms held close to his chest, one leg propped over the other. Isa hadn’t even realized he was so tense until he had been called out on it. “I trust you’re not just here to analyze my body language?”

“Nah.” Before Isa could ask, Lea offered the reasoning behind his deduction. “You never sat like that before. Only during the later years of the Organization.”

Right, one of Saix’s mannerisms. Or rather, Xehanort’s. He hurriedly uncrossed his arms, instead choosing to grip the edge of the fountain. The stone was cold and damp against his bare skin, and he welcomed the sensation. It was the little things like this that unsettled him the most. How easily one could fall back into learned behavior. “Why do you have to be so damn perceptive?”

“It’s part of the charm.” Lea wasn’t wrong there. And honestly, Isa wouldn’t have it any other way. Flashing a warm smile, Lea rested a hand on his shoulder. The gentle weight was reassuring. Isa closed his eyes in return, leaning into the touch.

“You know I’m here if talking would help.”

He’d been trying to open up more, for the sake of both of them. The hardest part was figuring out where to begin unravelling the tangled knot wound deep within his heart. But Isa was quieter now, overall. Or so he had been told. He hadn’t noticed a difference until Lea had pointed it out recently. Now that he was aware of the change, he could definitely see it for himself. Where he once would have chimed in with a quick jab or retort there was only silence. Isa found that during these moments, he was simply unsure of what to say and when to say it. He was more hesitant now, afraid of speaking out of turn and accidentally causing harm. The banter between himself and Lea had always felt so effortless, but now it was halting and unsure. They had moved past walking on eggshells long ago, but now Isa was treading on a self-imposed path of fine china. He knew they’d move beyond this too, eventually. When more time had passed and old wounds had the chance to heal over. Recovery was an ongoing process, and they were both very aware of this. He’d learned that honesty was an important step in building back those bridges, so this time Isa decided to share what was on his mind. Talking things over with Lea almost always made him feel better. Rather than take him up on the offer directly, he went for a different approach.

“Hey Lea. Truth or dare?”

“Wait, what? Where’s this coming from?” Lea raised an eyebrow, obviously confused at the question. At Isa’s glare, understanding seemed to dawn upon him. “Oh. Well, I’m feeling like this is a truth sort of night.” In their childhood Lea had always favored dares, much to Isa’s chagrin. Thankfully he caught the drift here.

“Do you still believe it? What you used to say when we were young. Memories are everything.” He called back to the old quote so casually, as if he hadn’t been repeating it over and over when memories were all he had to remind him why life was something worth fighting for.

Lea spent a few moments in silence, gathering his thoughts. Isa took the opportunity to lay flat against the stone wall, head resting in Lea’s lap as he faced the sky. Since his return to Radiant Garden, stargazing had quickly reclaimed its place as one of his favorite pastimes. The familiar view brought with it a certain sense of stability and comfort.

When Lea finally spoke, he lowered a hand to settle lightly in Isa’s hair. “Memories are important, but they can’t define us completely. It’s a double-edged blade. The effect you leave behind on people-- it can be a gift, but just as easily cause harm. And sometimes you misjudge.”

“It wasn’t all an oversight.” And that was the sickening part, what fueled the guilt that often kept him awake at night. There was a time where he’d knowingly hurt those who were now closest to him. And so many others he’d never see again. Innocent bystanders caught in the carnage of a struggle that was not their own. There was no way to tell for sure how much blood was on his hands, and Isa wasn’t sure he’d want to know even if it were possible.

“Of course not. Conflict is...it’s cruel, Isa.” There was a slight tug as the hand moved to stroke downwards, gently combing through his hair. This was a new method of comfort, one that Lea had quickly picked up on when they’d been reunited after the war. “The important thing is to cherish the good moments and learn from the bad.”

It was true that Isa had learned a lot throughout this whole ordeal. About himself, the world as a whole, and his relationships with others. He was still struggling for self-acceptance, but at least he had a better understanding of things than before. He was able to identify exactly what had led him to the eventual downfall that had nearly severed his bond with Lea. Now that he’d strayed onto the wrong path he could move forwards along a better one, making amends wherever possible. They had made an oath then, when Isa had first regained consciousness. Joint sobs echoing through laboratory halls as they swore to never allow anything or anybody to tear them apart again.

“My turn now. Truth or dare?”

At least he’d answered directly this time. Isa was satisfied, so he supposed a question in return was fair. “Is there a point in asking?”

“Well, yeah. Otherwise it’s not a game.” As if they were doing this for fun in the first place. Lea mulled over his options, still stroking through Isa’s hair. “When you wake during the night, you look so...terrified. What is it that you’re scared of?”

This question did catch him a bit off guard. Isa had never confided in him or anyone else about the nightmares. And Lea didn’t push him to say anything, always helping him through it without question. Speaking about it in the moment would only make the experience more painful, but Lea deserved to know. Maybe not the full details yet, but the recurring themes that caused him to panic.

From the direction these questions were taking Isa was sure Lea was also thinking back on that night so many years ago. It was one of the last they had spent together, perched on a rooftop in their favorite spot overlooking the castle gardens. He had known infiltrating the castle was a risky move, but neither of them could have ever guessed that only a few days later they would wind up as the next victims of the horrific experiments that had already claimed hundreds of innocent lives. So Isa looked back fondly on that last week or so, where the mounting pressure of continuing their investigation without being caught was briefly drowned out by the innocent joy of newfound love. He settled for a simple response, falling into Lea’s old habit of avoiding the real question at hand. “You asked this before.”

“And the answer?”

Isa should have known it would be pointless to try such tactics against the king of deflection himself. “...Dying is overrated.”

This earned a chuckle from Lea. Oh how he’d missed that sound. “You were able to face your fears, at least.”

“As for you?” This time Isa’s curiosity got the best of him. He might as well ask.

“Hey, it’s my turn to ask the questions here.” Lea paused from doting on Isa’s hair to leave a reprimanding tap on his nose. “...You’re right though, it’s the same for me. When we were kids, I...I really didn’t like the idea that I could ever lose you.” He smiled down at Isa, a bit sadly. “Guess that never changed.”

No matter how much Lea tried to hide it, Isa could still hear that lingering pain in his voice. Even during the quieter moments like this, emotions still ran high. It was so much better than not feeling at all, but almost a full year later and he still found himself adjusting. So when he spoke to open up in return, it was a struggle not to get choked up. “I wasn’t afraid of death as a concept, but more so the threat of losing myself. Now that I’ve lived out that reality...I’ve come to accept it.” It was still there, a distant possibility but present nonetheless. The lingering fear he would once again be dragged down by the mind of another. It would never truly disappear, but at least it was no longer a driving factor in his life. Isa refused to give that fear the opportunity to control him. “That’s not what haunts me now. Not exactly.” Now that he’d started, speaking like this was a lot easier. “I’m not frightened of myself, or the possibility of Xehanort’s shadow still lurking in my mind. I’m afraid that I’ll lose everything we’ve worked to rebuild. Our home, our family. Us.” There was no hiding the tremor in his voice, and this time when Lea shifted a hand to Isa’s cheek he was met with tears. Once he might have blamed it on the fountain spray, but now he valued such displays of emotion. It was a sign of life, a reminder that they could allow themselves to simply feel without shame or denial.

“Isa...I won’t let that happen.” Those words were spoken with so much conviction Isa could almost believe it.

“I know--I know. And yet...” His throat was tight again, and so he took a shuddering breath rather than try to finish the thought.

“That’s the thing about fear.” Lea was blotting out the stars again, a curtain of crimson to shield Isa from the world. “It can be irrational, but that doesn’t lessen the pain.”

Isa’s words were little more than a whisper. “For so long I’d assumed I was too far gone. I only feared that you would be taken away from me as well. That’s why it broke me, when...” he trailed off, as there was no need to further explain. They’d already discussed this and made amends, but speaking of past mistakes never got any easier.

“I’ll do anything to ensure you never have to feel that way again.” Lea’s voice took on a slightly grim edge, reminiscent of days gone by. Isa hadn’t heard that in a while, but here it was welcome.

Isa laughed breathlessly. “I’m the only one responsible this time around. And that’s the one thing you would never do. Hurt me.” After all, it was Isa’s own mind supplying the nightmares and the anxiety that followed him through the day.

“Inflicting pain isn’t the only solution.” Internal warfare like this wasn’t the type of combat they were accustomed to. Lashing out was all they’d been taught, and Isa still had to remind himself of this, even when the foes he faced were no longer a physical threat.

“Then what is?”

Lea’s silence spoke volumes here. Neither of them had all the answers, even if it was easier to pretend otherwise. Fresh tears rolled down his cheeks as Isa closed his eyes. The sun often had a blinding effect and now was one of the times where he had to look away for fear of making the pain worse.

“Love.”

Isa wasn’t expecting an answer, so his eyes flew open at that. Such a deceptively simple word for how drastically it had shaped his life. “I know you love me, but that won’t stop the nightmares.”

Lea moved his head closer to press lips against Isa’s forehead. “s’ not an instant fix.”

“Nothing ever is.” His breathing was steadier now, soothed by Lea’s touch.

“That’s not always a bad thing.” And it was true. If life’s problems were so easy to solve then he’d never have realized the how much of a difference embracing his emotions could make.

“Guess I’m a long-term project.” Isa dipped into that sense of dry humor as the darkness clutching at his heart began to retreat, warded off by the flame that had always lit up his life.

“You’d better be,” From the smile against his skin, Isa knew Lea was glad that the encouragement had finally managed to get through.

“I am. Because we’re immortal, right?” He managed to surprise Lea with that, and Isa savored the brief expression of wonder before it was drowned out by a proper kiss. And he suddenly understood what Lea had meant all those years ago.

#kingdom hearts #kh #lea #isa #leaisa #axel #saix #akusai #kh3 spoilers #roxas #xion #seasalt family #artistic pursuits #ok this is FINALLY done #started this before kh3 and i'm glad it worked out #better hope that readmore works bc its 5k fuckin words #i started this the night my dog died so it was kinda hard to finish but! i got there. eventually #so this goes out to her #anyways yeah im just gonna. leave this here

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erasethedarkness · 5 years

Note

Ooo, for those random sentence starters can you do “Are you really gonna leave without asking me the question you’ve been dying to ask me?” With all might? Your writing is such a joy to read 💖

Aloha, All Might Anon! I hope you enjoy this scenario! To be honest, I’m glad that I didn’t go with my original idea for this prompt, because this was a lot more fun and exciting. (My original idea was a romance with a reporter, which is a cute idea but I think this panned out better!)

Hero in Distress -Day 4 | First Kiss / First Date-

Summary: Bad luck, again. That’s what you were chalking it up to. You weren’t a bad hero, you just had awful luck, and now you needed to be save. Fortunately for you, only the best came to your rescue. Unfortunately for you, you lost track of how many times he had saved you in recent events and you were completely smitten. To make matters worse, you were stuck without your quirk for a few days thanks to the villains who caught you. But it was alright. Why? Because All Might was there.

Theme Song: Madness - Muse

Reader: Gender Neutral

Words: 1363

I can’t get these memories out of my head…

Like most people with romantic ideas and inclinations, you became a hero to help and save others, not for the fame or money. Because of this, you were loathe to admit that you were in a god-awful situation. Going from hero to helpless, you were absolutely screwed. If someone didn’t show up soon, you’d be done for, and the irony stung bitterly.

In perfect timing with your thoughts, the cell door flew in, slamming backwards into the wall and then hanging off its hinges. You gasped, staring into the dust at the unmistakable silhouette.

“All Might!”

“I. Am. HERE!” All Might’s powerful voice boomed, carried over the commotion that was en route. His body took up the door frame, standing just as tall and with his shoulders spanning the width. The mammoth of a man strutted into the room, his cape flying behind him until it settled at his ankles again when he stopped before you. Effortlessly, he took the chain that tethered you and pulled it loose from the ground, then much more delicately broke it free from your wrists. You gazed up at him with wide eyes- ecstatic that he came to rescue you and mildly surprised by just how gentle he was able to be.

“Are you alright?” The words interrupted your swooning, and immediately your admiring eyes hardened to fit the scene.

“As alright as it gets at this point,” you confirmed with a nod, stepping past him to the doorway and looking at the incapacitated guardsmen. You didn’t even hear a struggle break out- was All Might just that fast and precise? …He was the No. 1 hero, after all. “I’m not going to be of much help to you right now. My quirk’s on hold for the rest of the stupid week,” you informed him crossly. “There are others in the same predicament. Let’s go.”

Even though your quirk was out of commission for the time, it was no excuse to stop being a professional. You were still able to be of tactical value to All Might as you two cleared the building together, especially since you had the inside scoop to give his strength an even greater advantage and did your best not to slow him down. More importantly, you kept yourself in check so you didn’t swoon again so openly. This wasn’t the first time he came to your rescue like your own knight in shining armor- it seemed like your strokes of bad luck kept him coming to save you. Which time was it now? The fourth? Fifth? The first time was enough to have you head over heels for the pillar of justice, and every time after was like an extra cherry on top.

By the time the building was cleared, police cars surrounded the perimeter and waited for All Might’s mark. Once the two of you surfaced on the roof and he gave his characteristically cheerful thumbs up, the police squads stormed inside to arrest the passed out villains and help the hostages. Finally, this nightmare was over. All you had to do now was stay out of trouble and wait for your quirk to return.

“You know, we really should stop meeting like this,” All Might teased you with a lighthearted tone. He stood, as if posing still, with his knuckles on his hips, but leaned towards you, giving you his attention now that the chaos was dispersed.

“Ha!” you scoffed, turning from him and beginning to walk away. You had to play it cool. This wasn’t the time for warm fuzzies and feelings. “I’m giving you job security at this point. Regardless, thanks for saving my ass yet again, All Might. See you around- hopefully not like this,” you laughed a bit at the end. It may have seemed sarcastic, but you really did appreciate him.

“Are you really gonna leave without asking me the question you’ve been dying to ask me?” he called out to your back.

You stopped, turning around to look at him with your brows furrowed in skeptical confusion. “You must be mistaken. I don’t have a question to ask.”

“Then was there something you wanted to tell me?” he persisted.

“Not… in particular.” You shook your head, your expression questioning him. Sure, you could confess your feelings, but that wasn’t on your agenda for today. The hero leered at you, just as doubtful as you were of him despite that broad and cheeky smile.

“(Y/N), I can tell you’re holding something back. It looked like there was something on your mind while we took care of things.”

You sighed, closing your eyes and leaning your head back until your breath was finished, then looked at the hero. “That part’s true. You really want to know?”

“Of course. If I can help you, I would be more than happy to!” His answer was so earnest, it brought a subtle yet enamored smile to your lips. Was he really oblivious?

“Alright, well… there’s something I wanted to give you. But you can’t look, so close your eyes. Oh, and sit down, would you?”

Somehow, he managed to look confused with that happy expression plastered to his face. You raised a brow, challenging him to either accept or not find out. So he sat down and closed his eyes, listening to your footsteps as you walked over to him. At this point, it seemed like his curiosity was just trying to provoke you. So, why not?

Your footsteps stopped in front of him, and for a moment you stood still, teasing him and making him sit with his anticipation. A smile grew on your lips as you looked at his face, admiring him. The stress of hero work was chiseled into the lines of his own smile, defining it even more. Your hands came up to his cheeks and gently held his jawline, guiding him to lean his head back slightly. His surprise was evident in the way that his lips lost their smile, no longer pulled back in that grinning expression. He would have said your name or asked what you were doing, but you didn’t give him the chance to. With closed eyes, you kissed him with candid ardor, letting your hands slip from his face, arms resting around his shoulders.

To your surprise, you felt his massive hands cradle your back as he pulled you closer to him. You pulled back from the kiss, cheeks hot with a blush as your eyes met. He was smiling again- but it wasn’t that big, toothy grin he gave the world. It was soft and sincere, without the weight of having to reassure everyone that things would be alright, and it was for you alone. All Might brought one of his hands to your face, his palm able to cup half of your head if he wanted, and gently guided you closer again. His arm around your waist helped you sink into his lap, leading you to sit on one of his thighs as he kissed you in return.

“(Y/N), there’s a question I’ve been dying to ask you.”

“Hm, what is it?” you asked, looking up at him as your blush began to subside.

“How about next time, we meet on a date?”

The question made your heart skip a beat and flutter. The blush that was finally beginning to fade came back in full force, your cheeks red as the hero unabashedly beamed at you.

“Well… I’ll have a few days off of heroics since my quirk’s suppressed. I suppose I could make time,” you teased with a chuckle before kissing him again, still smiling as your lips pressed together. Without warning, he lifted you up, and you clung to him a little closer, arms still around his neck from before. “A-All Might?”

“As romantic as planning a date on a rooftop is, we should at least pick a different one,” he joked, reminding you of the scene inside. You gave him a smile of affirmation, and with that, he wasted no time in whisking you away.

…some kind of madness has started to evolve.

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writings-and-ideas · 5 years

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Curiosity

After a week full of turmoil and stress, Dan found himself surrounded by mutual friends. He came to this house party in hopes to end the week on a high note. A murky conversation with a romantic, or rather a potential romantic, interest put the beginning of his week on a shaky note. Followed by a flat tire on his day off. A flat which he could not afford to replace, added to the laundry list of trouble that would follow him through the rest of the week. Barrowing money he was, luckily, able to replace the tire. That same evening after returning to the discount tire repair business to retrieve his car, he decided performing might turn this week around. Inviting some friends out to the occasion boosted his resolve to show up and perform, rather than flaking, like he would do most weeks. The previous few endeavors into his joke telling’s went well enough, so why not invite some friends out to finally see him perform. Dan immediately regretted the decision, when during the host’s introduction to the show the crowd was unfavorable and rowdy. The show went on with each comedian either completely bombing or parading about the stage describing just how awful show was going. Dan waited, having panic attacks through each set until his turn was up.

The open mic he frequented was at a dive bar. He sat a few short feet from the mic stand. The stage- if it can be called that, was more of a space the establishment had cleared to allow a microphone stand to be viewable from most tables. Dan sat at the bar in an emerald cushioned high stool maybe six feet from the mic. Each time the host would return to the stand, Dan found himself hoping, desperately, that somehow his time would be cut. That the host would’ve forgotten about him. As more comedians flailed about, Dan found himself staring down the short hallway to the exit. Perfectly placed across the room from his seat. I could just leave. Say I had something important to handle. Dan planned his escape as the host handed over the microphone to a man, who would break two tables in his unsuccessful attempt at stimulating the room. The room, by this point in the evening, was only occupied by those who stayed by some sense of respectful obligation to the event. Individuals, like the very friends Dan had invited to this travesty. I’m going to run. Dan thought to himself, but just as he gathered what courage he could the host began walking directly towards him. His heart pounded with each step the host took. She was, all at once, upon him. “Bet you thought I forgot about you, huh?”, She said to him with a smile. She looked at him through thick glasses and spoke with a raspy voice. The voice you get the day you recover from a sore throat, or the voice of someone in dire need of a cough drop. She reassured Dan that she did not forget about him, as he hoped. She then informed him in an upbeat tone, that he had the pleasure of closing tonight’s show out.

He could not for the life of him tell how he did. He made no note of the jokes that did well or failed to hit their marks. He was in utter shock and was in fight or flight mode. The option of flight was gone the second his name was introduced. His pride would’ve never allowed him to flee. This was his Tuesday night, and the tone of that night would carry though out the rest of his week. Failed romance Sunday, a flat tire Tuesday, a dentist appointment Thursday- I must floss, and Friday at work he ruined his favorite shirt. The ruining of his shirt seemed little consequence, but it was at work; rushing to help a customer who ended up belittling him. As for Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday; Dan worked his menial and life draining retail job. Each hour spent at work felt like an hour wasted to Dan. He would often find a blind spot in the security system’s cameras and read novels or write until the door chime heralded another customer to greet. By Saturday night’s shift Dan was looking forward to the end of the week and had been invited to a friend’s house party. Once free he raced down empty streets and under broken streetlights, through the young night. Onward to some chemical and social relief from the hell that had been his week. He drove fast, slowing only for the wolves that lay in wait on Saturday nights to fill their quotas. He prided himself in his own ability to spot them waiting, to catch the glimmer of their crimson and sapphire lights dormant under empty parking lots and lurking in side roads. He arrived at his location unimpeded. He parked three houses down. The number of cars lining the street were his oracles for the night to come.

He approached the house with a confidence he had not felt in a long time. He opened the screen door. Something that shocked himself. Usually he would ring the bell or wait to be greeted by his host. Like a vampire he would always wait to be welcomed in, but the week had worn his manners down, and besides the host had offered him a room in their house twice now. This place is as much as my home now anyways. He turned both offers down. He strolled into the party seeking out the host immediately. Greeting her with a smile, a hug, a lighthearted joke, and two bags of single serve trail mix he picked up last minute. He always had to contribute. Once the small catching up was done, Dan made his usual rounds. Before eating, grabbing a drink, or partaking in any narcotic activities he would make the effort to make his presence known to each room. Through the den, into the kitchen, poking his head into the garage- full of younger adults than himself, eventually back through the entire first floor of the house to the living room. He found there a good friend already well into the drinking Dan wished to be apart of. Dan’s friend wasted no time fulfilling that wish. Before Dan knew it, he was unaware of how he found himself now, sitting in the den. The room was lit only by a lamp that cycled through red, blue, green, purple, orange- repeat. He had in his hand a drink. What was in said drink and who had given it to him was a blur. He did remember spending some time in the garage, but it was stuffy, hot, crowded and full of smoke. He stayed to entertain the inhabitants for a time. In exchange they gifted him several pulls from, what Dan guessed, was a joint. Dan had quit smoking, but never wanted to be rude, so he held the joint and waited to pass it with out taking any part of it. After he felt he could escape the scene, to avoid partaking in old habits, he did so. Now he sat sipping from his drink, Pineapple- no this is mostly just gin. He was seated in a high black wooden chair, found near the corner of the den right in front of a lamp that was his sole source of light bathing everything in colors. The amp behind him was also the sole source of music for the evening, to the right of his seat was a sliding glass door leading to the backyard where he could refill his lungs with fresh air. The amp was currently connected to someone’s phone and playing some lo-fi synthetic music. Dan never considers himself a dancer, but in the moment, he couldn’t help but to bob and sway to the rhythm of the music. “Can I ask you a question?”, the girl was in his space. She entered it with out him even noticing. He turned his head to meet he eyes. She was one of the younger women attending the event. Dan considered anyone younger than him by more than a year a child. She wore a top that was designed to both display her midsection and cleavage. A sort of tube top V-neck t-shirt. She was short, and the height of the chair Dan sat in made he seem shorter. Dan realized he was staring at her blankly in his drunkenness. The music drowned out her small voice out, but Dan had become adept at communicating in these environments.

“Can I ask you something? It might be a little offensive and I don’t want to offend you.”,

She persisted. Dan replied with pride stating, “It is very hard to offend me!” He leaned in to hear her more clearly.

“Are you gay?”, the question didn’t shock him. He was aware of his mannerisms and general aura. He had received this question before. He was more shocked she thought he’d be offended.

“I’m not.”

“Oh, are you bisexual?”

Now that was a bit jarring, he had been questioning that himself. It was never uncommon to be a few drinks in and for him to seek out and flirt with a male friend he found attractive, but he wasn’t sure how he’d feel about acting any of his flirtatious advances out. Sincerely he had been wondering just who to discuss these questions he had about himself with that same day. He hadn’t been able to come to anyone out of fear of being perceived as attention seeking. An outcome that would’ve never come, but an outcome his anxiety constantly reminded him of. This stranger was certainly not on the short list to say the least.

“Uhhhm, I’m not sure…”, Dan answered after some contemplation.

“Bi-curious then?”

“Maybe,”

“Like if you had enough drinks you would probably be?”

If I had enough drinks, we’d all meet a very different man.

“I guess- “, Dan found himself what he could most closely relate to an out of body experience. He saw himself face to face with this strange person in the dim light of the color changing lamp, while the amp filled the entire scene with electronic beats and rhythmic pulsing.

“I was just asking because of something you said earlier.”

Dan scrambled to think of the word he could’ve uttered to bring on this interrogation. To be honest he it could’ve been a litany of things he said. He was a liberal minded man after all. He himself was recently questioning himself on his heterosexuality, but he was too busy or kept himself distracted to put any serious thought into the matter. He was scarred. His pride wouldn’t allow himself to admit it, even to himself. His pride kept him preoccupied. Playing out his homosexual outburst as “displays of how secure in my heterosexuality I am.” He couldn’t wrap his mind around the fear, he shouldn’t be afraid there is nothing wrong with having sexual and emotional attraction to other men. That was something he long understood, so why was he afraid to admit to anyone- himself really that he might have them. The girl apologized, seeing clearly, she had stirred some hidden self-questioning up. Dan had always been told he had a very expressive face. He made a jest of the conversation to put the girl at ease and told her he’d she her around later. It was evident as she walked away, she was inquiring for someone interested in Dan. He swayed, checked his phone, and refilled his cup. Eventually he returned to the garage where the girl had walked off to. He noticed she exchanged glances with a young man. He wore his dark hair slicked back with some gel or pomade. From his left ear a silver six shooter pistol rocked, he wore a sky-blue t-shirt loosely tucked into sweatpants that had been cut into shorts. His chest was cover in a bouquet of flowers that decorated his shirt. Dan passed by and met his glace on his way to partake in a round of shots.

Dan exited the garage coughing. He returned to the den. The effects of the alcohol was taking its toll. He spread himself out on the couch that sat the wall opposite the sliding glass door. His host sat next to him as he slumped into an upright position to welcome her company. She informed him he was welcome to stay the night. He thanked her and they stayed there talking of the night. Eventually he awoke to the harsh sunlight flooding into the room through the sliding glass door. He did not recall receiving the blanket or pillow from his hosts. He gathered his belongings, allowed his eyes to adjust to the light, and without a word he exited the house. He had a week to start and a store to open after all.

#writing #writer #follow for short stories #short story #party #bi #based on real events #late night exercise #story #text #ameteur #first draft

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textsfromumbridge · 6 years

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I think you know which fic scene I want you to do dvd commentary for.......... 🦉

I could make a joke, but I’ll just get on to the scene ;)

So, all the men and women merely players, chapter two, final scene: DANCING. Or, as I like to call it: working up a load of sexual tension

I might use some comments from the epic review essays we’ve been exchanging to expand on some insights.

...

It took her more than a few minutes to realize that they were the only ones left who were still rehearsing. Everyone else appeared to have left - even Mr. Whitefeather and Coach Wilson appeared to have departed (hopefully together).

She kinda shipped it.

You either ship Darryl and WhiJo or you’re wrong. But also, Darryl is absolutely that teacher who is just conveniently elsewhere or focused on something else when the plot calls for it. It’s just like how he runs the firm on the show. He can throw himself into things wholeheartedly and it’s such an adorable quality - and so convenient to write the two leads into interesting moments.

“Okay, once more with feeling,” Nathaniel was breathing heavy.

So of course it was not helping that he’d stripped off a few layers, leaving him in a thin tank top that left those Arms bare. He had good arms. Those were good arms to have.

Not only am I going for Buffy reference bingo, I’m going for the hormones right away. Because SMF’s everything is personally offensive to my sanity.

She just really wanted to be Josh Chan’s official girlfriend before she even attempted to kiss Nathaniel.

As you so astutely pointed out in your essay/review, Rebecca knows that kissing Nathaniel will be a game changer. If she’s Josh’s girlfriend when it happens, that might decrease the effect it will have on her. Getting together with Josh will magically cure everything that is wrong with her, and her conscious mind is definitely lumping this awkward crush on Nathaniel in with those wrong things. Unconsciously, she knows that this crush isn’t just hormones and Nathaniel is making her feel things Josh doesn’t and she is terrified of that. Josh is idealized and safe, Nathaniel is anything but.

“Just dance with me already,” she huffed, stepping closer to him.

For once, Nathaniel was quiet, almost too quiet. He just bowed formally, asking her to dance as the start of their detailed choreography.

Funny, he almost looked princely as he leaned over her hand, kissing it gently rather than faking it for the stage. Glitter exploded inside of her, mostly in her stomach, as she felt herself flush.

That feeling when your crush is completely focused on you? Yeah, glitter all over the place. And I really wanted to show the contrast between the hormonal thing going on between Nathaniel and Rebecca, and this courtly romance between the characters they are playing.

Rebecca wants this fairytale romance, but she’s also aware that real life isn’t like the storybook and real life romance can be painful and intimate and terrifying. Someone actually getting to know the real her and not the version of her she lets people see. So this moment is her ideal version of romance, a prince kissing her hand as the start to a happily ever after - with that current of hormones and reality underneath the surface.

Every time they did these the steps were more fluid, and it became easier and easier to let the glitter win. He was charming, and tall (very tall), and he danced like a dream. And when he looked at her, eyes darker than she remembered them being, she simply had to press herself a little bit closer to him.

They’d worry about fitting her supposedly big dress in between them when they had to - not yet though. Not right now.

“He was tall, very tall / and his eyes were clear and blue” - that’s from actual Cinderella, and it has SMF/Nathaniel written all over it.

It makes sense for Rebecca to be drawn in by those eyes, by the way they’ve fallen into step with each other. Dancing is all about moving together, about finding your rhythm, and that’s just such a great metaphor for their relationship. Their entire relationship so far has been a dance, starting with stepping on (metaphorical) toes, and moving more and more in sync on stage, but still lost in the push and pull off stage.

With a final twirl, she let herself lean back in his strong grip, now trusting him completely - at least in this. He would never let her fall, not on stage. Not just because it would make him look like a bad partner, but also because maybe, just maybe, he’d actually grown a little fond of her.

It was kind of pathetic, while at the same time being oddly flattering.

Rebecca has trouble trusting people, but she trusts him with this. She can read him, see that he likes her even when he hardly knows it (or doesn’t admit it) himself. She pretty much thinks he’s an idiot for liking her, because she doesn’t even like herself. She’s unlovable, so anyone who cares for her is an idiot - and because everyone’s left, no one’s ever dared to prove her wrong. She’s certainly not expecting that Nathaniel “hit it and quit it” Plimpton might actually stick around. Dismissing it is safer for everyone involved.

How long had she been leaning like this? Mere seconds? Forever? She didn’t know and didn’t much care.

I wrote this at work and there was much internal flailing. Yes I flail over stuff I write, because in this scene the characters did everything and I was just documenting it.

“I’ll walk with you,” Nathaniel waited for her to finish packing.

It would be rude not to let him. That was why she nodded, that was why she let him. It had nothing to do with her actually wanting to spend a few extra minutes with him. She’d been spending more than enough time with him for Paula to start taking notice - her best friend had not been happy with the perceived disinterest in the Chan Plan.

“Are you actually being nice now?” she was very aware of how flirtatious that particular statement came out.

“Dream on, Bunch,” he grinned as he held the door for her. “I would never.”

They want to spend time together, but they can’t let themselves admit it. They’ve got reputations to protect, perceived soulmates to seduce... This shouldn’t be happening, but it is. And we just don’t get to see them both lighthearted, but they can still bring that out in each other.

They’ve both got some parental issues and a lot of pressure to deal with both from external and internal factors... For a little while they just got to enjoy themselves, act like carefree teenagers.

I wrote this before they got to be soft and flirty on the show, because the ship is this too, banter and flirting and caring. And Harry Potter references, because NERDS

She’d heard the rumors - she knew all his moves even though he’d only tried a couple on her.

Rebecca really wants to sound tough and experienced and weary, but it just comes across as longing and vaguely jealous. She knows that he’s playing with her a little, knows that at least part of this is him trying to get her out of his system, but she still wants to see his moves.

Once again, she dismisses any sincerity coming from him - that kiss on her hand wasn’t a move, that was Nathaniel acting on instinct. She’s seen underneath his mask more than a few times, but it would just be easier to believe that he’s planned all of this. If this is all planned seduction she doesn’t have to consider that he actually likes her and she’s actually lovable.

She cannot risk actually caring about him without being sure - or she just can’t let herself care. It’s pretty much too late already, no matter how much she denies it.

She was the first to lean in, placing her hand on his shoulder to pull him down to her level. He went along with it rather easily, a hand on her waist as if they were about to start a whole other dance, and they both already knew the steps to that one.

This time, he would let her lead, let her pull him even closer so that their foreheads were touching.

Forehead touching is my kryptonite. And him letting her lead is important here - and Rebecca notices him giving over power to her. He is vulnerable, and that she is not ready to acknowledge yet.

Of course that was when that damn Gavin kid showed up, banging on the door with the janitor’s keys in his stupid hand.

I had to do it, and of course it had to be George.

Easter Egg: George’s names are all taken from names Sherlock’s called Lestrade on the British show. Because that’s how I roll.

...

Also this is super long and self-indulgent but I hope you appreciate it.

Now back to chapter three, 7k down, a lot more to go.

#catty-words #rethaniel #about my fic #fic: all the men and women merely players #cori is actually the greatest

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heylizzo · 7 years

Text

after party → d.c. & e.o.

After the friendsgiving party at Lea and Jensen’s, Darren drives Lizzie home and is convinced that sitting outside for awhile is almost as much fun as Lizzie makes out out to be. After some banter, some lingering touches and near misses, and some carpool karaoke, Lizzie departs for Argentina and Darren heads home, neither one feeling quite satisfied but neither one feeling particularly brave, either. (@stfudarren)

Lizzie: There had been enough food at dinner to make the table groan under the weight of it all, but Lizzie really thought she'd been doing okay until the dessert came out. She'd saved her real turkey feast for Thursday, when she would be with her family, but in the face of apple and pecan pie, and her pumpkin cheesecake, plus all the other goodies, she'd been kind of powerless to stop herself at only one slice. At least she had her relatively light dinner to justify the heavy dessert, but by the time she and Darren were leaving, she did feel a little bit like he could have rolled her down the street instead of driving her home and she would have made it back in the same timeframe. At first the car ride was quiet, the music low as she let him concentrate on driving them down through the hills, her own eyes trained on the view through the trees out the window, happy for a bit of peace after the bustling party. But as they rounded a curve, the tree line broke up and gave them a few out into the night over the city that extended all the way to the ocean, the atmosphere surprisingly clear enough to give them a vista of the city lights, even if it was still too bright for any stars. "Hey, pull over here for a minute?" she asked, indicating the wide shoulder where they could safely park out of the way of any cars making the turn. As he switched the car off, she took her eyes off the view to glance at him with a grin. "I miss this place so much when I'm away, but sometimes I forget how pretty it is. I feel evangelical about this city, even if it gets a lot of heat." She laughed softly, knowing he would probably tease her about her eagerness. "Even if Giants fans try to say it's not the best city in California."

Darren: The night went well. Darren thought it was the perfect way to really get him prepared for Thanksgiving. The food was amazing as was the company and Lizzie was right when she said that the pumpkin cheesecake would change his life. He tried his best to sneak some out with him but there were just too many eyes. After everything though, he was really glad that she had asked him to go with her. The car ride was filled with a nice silence, especially considering the atmosphere they had just left. It was almost like the two were just content with the peace and with their little food comas. Suddenly, when Lizzie broke the silence, Darren was about to ask her if everything was okay as he did what she asked but he didn't want to immediately push so he gave her a second and as expected she explained what was going on. He put the car in park and then looked over at her with a small smile on his face. Of course he was waiting for a comment like that so he couldn't help but laugh. "Ignoring that little gab, I think you're forgetting that I'm not your typical Giants fan." He said, laughing a little more. "I get what you mean though. I miss it when I'm gone, too." He said, remembering the times when he was living in New York or traveling and somehow always thinking about this place. "Do you want to get out? You know, look at the view for awhile?"

Lizzie: The night had been a little chilly when they'd left Lea and Jensen's place, but not so cold that Lizzie would shy away from getting a little bit of fresh air. "Yeah, c'mon," she urged as she unbuckled, hopping out of her seat and closing the door behind her, grateful that she'd worn a cashmere sweater warm enough to make up for the lack of a coat. At the front of the car she waited for him to join her, then led the way to a small, flat ledge a few feet back from the edge of the hill, really just a few planks of wood meant to keep the small rocks that made up the terrain from rolling over the edge. It would do for a bench though, and when she sat she reached and patted the place beside her, inviting him to sit. She was still getting used to the buzzcut, and she had to twist her fingers together in her lap to stop herself from reaching out to brush her fingertips through the short bristles of his hair - she wasn't sure if that was the sort of thing he'd find invasive, and it felt too... intimate, somehow. Like she should have a better handle on herself, not give into every urge to touch him. "I didn't forget, you know. I just happen to think that even a 'not typical' Giants fan is saying much." Her words were harsh, but her laughter softened them, always lighthearted even when she was giving him a hard time. Even though they'd come for the view, Lizzie found herself drawing her knees in so she could rest her elbow in her lap, her face in her hand, so her eyes were on him instead, thinking about the unusual amber color of his irises. "Did you have fun tonight?" she asked, using her free hand to push the hair the wind had blown into her face back behind her ear. "I'm glad you came with me. It's nice to have... a touchstone, or whatever, when a party's hopping like that. Even if you know a lot of people, it's nice to have someone who's like... your person, you know?"

Darren: Part of him though that maybe Lizzie would have declined the suggestion but the next he knew, she was getting out of the car and he found himself smiling at the sudden spontaneous turn of night. He didn't mind at all being outside. For him, it was the kind of night that was a little cold but more refreshing than anything. This was coming from someone who actually missed the New York winters so a night like this was really nothing for him so he was even happier to be stepping out and getting a good look of the city. He waited a moment before unbuckling and making his way out of the car. It didn't take him too long to join her and he let her take her pick where they would settle down. Once she found a sort of makeshift bench, he laughed as he sat down next to her because this was honestly something he never would have expected to happen tonight but he found himself loving that it was happening. His focus shifted to the view in front of them as he settled in next to her. As soon as Lizzie spoke up again, he immediately grabbed his chest a little too dramatically. “Ouch.” He said, looking over at her. “Here I thought we were going to have a nice night but you just had to go show who the real mean one is out of the two of us.” The back and forth between them was just too easy and too natural. Darren had found himself genuinely enjoying talking to her because of things like this. She kept him on his toes and found a way to always tease him which he found himself actually liking. His smile said otherwise though because he actually thought she was the opposite of mean. He actually thought very highly of her and he hoped that he’d be able to tell her that someday. “I did. I’m glad I came, too, even if it was just for your cheesecake.” He gave her a gentle nudge just to show he was joking. Her words though lingered in his mind and he couldn’t help but turn a little serious in that moment. “I’m your person, huh? I’m happy to be that whenever you need.”

Lizzie: She bumped away at his nudge, exaggerating his gentle push so she could snap back with equal force into his shoulder. There it was again, that little fluttering feeling of panic that started in the pit of her stomach every time she felt things become too sincere between them, every time they pierced that thick layer of protective irony she'd built up around all of their interactions. It was a feeling she didn't really want to examine, because it felt safer, more manageable to keep it at arm's length, but it still felt foolish, when he ferreted out the sincere compliment in her teasing and held it out for examination, her immediate urge to back away, or disavow. Her need to assert immediately how platonically she had meant it, even as the words felt rushed and defensive and not entirely welcome. "Mm, I guess so. My person, my buddy. You know, like in school? Put everyone on the buddy system so no one gets lost. If we were on a field trip they'd make us hold hands. Or uh, tie us together or something." Lame. She knew it was lame even as she said it, but the words came out anyway. Breaking their eye contact, she decided to go back to watching the cityscape below them. Somehow that felt safer. "So are you here for much longer? I mean, through until the show you were telling me about? Or are you going home for Thanksgiving?"

Darren: There was a moment where he might have showed the slight disappointment he felt after seeing her reaction. Part of him thought that maybe he had done something wrong because it seemed like she was shutting down on him. The disappointment and that worrying made him think about things, too, but he knew that this wasn’t the time nor the place so he had to regroup himself quickly. Though, the lingering thought in the back of his mind was about why he would feel upset about the sudden shift in the conversation. Of course, she meant it as a joke or as a friends thing. There was no reason why it would be anything more. They had pretty much established the whole friends thing pretty much from the get-go and if that’s the person that she needed, he’d honestly be that for her. He’d be whatever she needed but now he was realizing that maybe that’s not what he wanted. “Right. I remember those days.” He said as he shifted a little and brought his hands to rest on his lap. “Does this count as a field trip? If so, I guess I’m really living up to this whole buddy thing.” He resisted the urge to joke about them needing to hold hands then or be tied together because it was clear it wouldn’t really go over too well given the tension he felt in the air. Even though she was looking away from him, Darren kept his eyes on her as he answered the question. “I’ll actually be here for Thanksgiving. Things could change before then because my brother isn’t exactly thrilled to be hosting but he’s running out of time to make a decision on things. How about you though? Do you have some time off now?”

Lizzie: She leaned forward to trail her hand through the rocks underneath her, shifting through a couple until she found one that was a smooth, perfect oval, the kind she could close her fist over without sharp edges jabbing into her skin. Lifting it into her lap, she turned the thing over and over again, marveling at its perfect symmetry, the way its pale surface had a glow of its own in the muted moonlight. With something else to concentrate on, she felt more at ease, the niggling little thoughts set aside and forgotten for now. "Mm, this is a field trip, to the Natural Museum of Ackles-Sarfati. We observed many lovers and exes trying to get along in their natural habitat. Saw a lot of bizarre mating rituals. And of course the communal food experience. It was all very educational." At that, she finally looked up at him again, and found his eyes had been trained on her the whole time. Picking up her stone, she held it out to him like an offering, a prize to be shared and not just something she'd picked up a few moments before. Maybe a peace offering for her sharpness. "I'm hosting at my house, having all of Clan Olsen there. Which is a lot because I have five siblings, plus my parents and their significant others. How many people is your brother looking at hosting?"

Darren: He didn't want to think too much into things but it almost seemed to him like her actions were so deliberate. Actually, everything she did seemed to be that way and it was part of what drew him into her. But right now, he could see her distracting herself with the rock she had found. He could hear her mind going at a hundred miles an hour and wanted nothing more than to know what was really going on in there. He settled for what he got though. Darren laughed at her description of the night, especially the part about the lovers and the exes. There definitely was a great mix of that so it seemed like wherever you turned there was something interesting going on or perhaps about to happen. "It was very educational." He agreed, nodding once. "My personal favorite was the whole communal food experience but really the whole experience was worth the trip." He smiled as she looked back over at him and it faded for only a second as she passed the stone to him. It was an odd gesture but he thought back to what he had been thinking before. It meant something. He wasn't quite sure what it was exactly but he didn't dwell on it. Instead, he sort of examined it for a moment to see if whatever effect it had on her came onto him, too. "Ah, playing host, huh? Sounds fun." He joked as he sat back and relaxed a little. "Is that something you do every year or this was just your turn? Not too many. Probably about 15 or so. He's getting off easy, especially since most people are bringing the food to him."

Lizzie: Her hands free now, she occupied their restlessness with picking at the fraying edge of the hole slashed into her black jeans right above her knee, teasing out a single strand of denim thread to slowly unravel from the weave of the fabric. "The good news is that unlike many Thanksgiving dinners, I don't think any blood was shed. Unless things got buck wild after we left, but we can't be responsible for that." She'd had her own ex turned friend encounter to navigate, though thankfully the awkwardness of that particular relationship had mostly settled into bygones being bygones. Now she just took it as another piece of evidence that the idea of trying getting attached to someone on for size was an experiment best left unattempted. What was the expression? Fool me half a dozen times, shame on me for being such a fool? Something poetic like that. "Mm, I started hosting a couple of years ago, it's better for my mom's nerves if it's not in her house for some reason. If you can believe it, my mom is actually a more anxious person than I am," she chuckled, taking it with the same healthy dose of self-deprecation she seemed to take most things related to herself. Looking at him again, she let her eyes roam over his features, studying the planes of his face that were growing more familiar, smiling softly as she realized how perfectly his face captured his inherent kindness, the goodness that radiated off of him. Its why she trusted him so implicitly, warmed to him immediately, even if she still struggled with opening herself up beyond the most shallow of revelations. She kept things skin deep for his own sake, really. Anything deeper, and he might not want to find out more - that was a thought she really couldn't stand. "So what's your contribution then, besides harassing your poor beleaguered brother?"

Darren: He took a moment to actually look out at the city as his hands played with the rock. Admittedly, he had been tempted to throw it or hand it back but it actually did kind of serve as a good distraction. Kind of like one of those stress balls people have even though he was far from stressed out in this moment. "Good news? More like my hopes and dreams for the night were shattered. I was hoping for a recreation of that Mean Girls scene where everyone's going crazy in the halls." He said as seriously as he could before looking over at her and smiling. "But no, you're right. It was peaceful and nice. I mean if anything did happen, I didn't notice so I guess I have the company to thank for that." It was true that he was a bit distracted by her throughout the night in a good way. Obviously, he knew a decent amount of people there already but those people weren't who he found himself wanting to continuously interact with. "I get that. The holidays are stressful for some people plus all moms deserve a break at some point." He said with a shrug since he was all too familiar with that. "You must be a pretty great host though, huh? You know, if they keep coming back to you and all." He said with a smile that stayed on his face as she looked at him. Now that he thought about it though, he didn't think there was a moment when the smile wasn't present to some extent since the night started. "Wow, okay." He shifted slightly to move away from her as he brought his free hand up to his chest. "How do you know he's not the one doing to harassing? But if you must know, my plan for this year was somehow stealing dessert from you and using it as my contribution."

Lizzie: "I'm an okay host, I just love Thanksgiving and get a little crazy about it, and my mom is happy to let me take the lead. My friend Jade, she's one of my best friends and she works as my assistant when I'm doing Marvel stuff, she's always there helping too. She's from London so she loves getting the full American experience when she can." She rolled her eyes as she remembered the year before, deciding he was worthy of hearing an embarrassing anecdote. "She is a little Insta crazy though. I mean she's also the one who teaches me everything about it but last year she posted videos of me chopping shallots with my sunglasses on because the fumes were making me tear up. Was not a good look." She'd finally peeled the errant strand from the rip in her jeans, quickly flicking it away, then smoothing her hands against her thighs to stop herself from continuing to pick at it. If she kept up with the nervous energy, she was going to end up ruining her favorite jeans. "Don't give me that!" she protested, dissolving into laughter at his offended gesture. He might have fooled her too, if he hadn't oversold the expression just a little too much. "I know because I'm the younger sibling too, Darren. I know how we roll, so you can't trick me with this innocent bullshit act. Especially without these." Without thinking, she reached out and finally gave into the urge to skim her hand over the top of his head, feeling the short bristles tickling her palm where his mop of curls used to be. "Totally lost your boyish innocence thing, sorry. Coulda used that to trick me into making an extra pie too, too bad."

Darren: As soon as she heard what he said, he shook his head slowly but let her continue. Once she was finished, he brought up his hand for a moment just to kind of stress his point. "First off, your friend is a genius because if I wasn't American, I'd want that kind of experience, too." He then put up two fingers and went back to shaking his head slightly. "And second, I highly doubt you're just an okay host so I don't believe that. Don't be modest with me." He waved that off because part of him thought she'd probably downplay everything anyways. "Huh, so if she's Insta crazy, why doesn't she do everyone a solid and teach you the basics like about keysmashes and not starting political wars." The smile on his face was a bit devilish which meant he was definitely just bringing that up to mess with her. That was something that had become fun for him to do when it came to her. They had a fun back and forth that he enjoyed a lot. "For the record, that does sound like a cute look actually." He added that in there quick enough where it would hopefully be forgotten given where the conversation was heading next. "Wow." He dragged the word out a little more as the hand remained on his best. "Not all younger siblings are pains in the asses. Some are genuinely innocent." He laughed as she reached out to touch his head. It was a look he himself was still getting used to so the gesture and the comment caught him off guard at first but he regrouped and laughed a little more. He waited a moment before reaching up to grab her hand. "Are you kidding? I cut it so that everyone could see the halo up there easier and I'm pretty sure if I ask nice enough you'll do that anyways. No tricking needed."

Lizzie: What a tactic, bombarding her with a barrage of teasing comments to slip in a compliment that she couldn't even deflect, too busy already jumping onto the next thing to protest. And he knew she would have protested, because she never knew quite how to respond to kind words apart from bashful thank yous. It felt arrogant to simply accept the praise, but ungrateful to brush it off, so she always tried to split the difference and ended up feeling even more awkward than if she'd just simply allowed it to happen. "You are NOT genuinely innocent, Darren Criss. You will never convince me you weren't an absolute terror of a little brother, not even with a sworn affidavit." She felt surrounded in his laughter, in his easy good nature that had her completely at ease, so much so that the stillness that overtook her when he reached for her hand, closed his fingers around hers felt like an electric shock, rolling down her arm. For a moment, she could only look at him, thinking about the warmth of his skin against hers as her green eyes searched his - a silent question that was there one moment, shuttered away the next as she gently pulled her hand away, letting her laughter cover up the moment. "Can't believe you're going to sit here on a beautiful night, in front of this beautiful view, and lie to me, Darren. Nice boys don't do things like that," she admonished, returning her hands to smoothing over her legs, like she was trying to ease away the sudden intense awareness of her own nerve endings with her fidgeting.

Darren: Despite the constant reminders not to, Darren always felt himself somehow slipping in a compliment. Maybe it was just the nice guy in him or maybe it was because he liked when she was happy so he wanted to try to do his best to make that happen when it seemed like it might be going the other route. Her words weren't exactly surprised but he continued his fake offended act. "I feel like you're in denial and you're just trying to justify how much of a terror you are to your siblings but assuming I am, too. You can ask Chuck. He'll back me on this and it's not like I paid him or anything to always say I'm the perfect brother when asked." He said, scrunching his face up a little to make it seem like he was being serious for a moment. There was a moment when the thought passed through his head that it was probably a bad idea to have taken her hand because he didn't want to let go of it. He tried to not have that show on his face as she looked at him because the little he knew told him not to push things or read too into what was happening. "I can't believe you're sitting here trying to make me feel guilty, especially after I was the most amazing plus one in the history of plus ones. You're a bit unbelievable, you know that?" He meant the last bit as a joke but it was true though in probably the best way possible.

Lizzie: "Unbelievably amazing, yes, I realize." She knew she was slippery, dodging all the compliments he gave her sincerely but turning around his attempts at jabs by taking them as flattery, just to keep him on his toes. He was good company, he made her laugh and he laughed easily, which was good for her ego. She liked that he didn't seem take himself too seriously, that he could laugh and play into every ridiculous joke she tried to take a little too far, that he could talk about a seemingly endless number of topics, but that she could also sit in silence with him when the moment called for it, that he wasn't the type to try and fill the world up with mindless chatter. "You were a really good plus one," she finally conceded, nothing but sincerity in her voice. "Thank you for coming with me tonight. I feel like... a lot of my personal life has been a mess for the past few months and I was kinda worried tonight would be awkward, but it was nice to just be able to be with my friends, to be with you and enjoy myself and just have it feel easy, you know? It means a lot to me, that I can just be myself with you."

Darren: “Eh, that’s questionable.” Given the fact that he figured he’d used up his made up daily compliment limit, he decided to just continue to mess with her there. He did want to agree though since she really was pretty amazing. He figured that maybe this just meant it wasn’t the right time or place to actually tell her that just yet and that was okay. There was a moment of silence where he could tell she was deep in thought so he took the time to just look out towards the city. He took in a deep breath just to kind of take in how nice it felt to breathe a little. Being able to see the city and not actually being there was something different and having good company added to that peaceful experience and perspective. When she spoke back up, he smiled to himself before looking back over at her. “Should I mark this time and date? Because that might have been the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” He laughed a little before it faded and he turned a bit more serious as she spoke more. “I’m glad it was a good night for you. You deserve to enjoy yourself and show off that nice smile. And I’m glad that you asked me to come with you. It’s really nice talking to you and just being around you.”

Lizzie: "I know, I'm sorry. I try not to get too deep into that like, constant bickering thing because I know it can kind of be exhausting, and it's definitely a crutch for having genuine interaction sometimes. I have this one friend, I feel like every woman he knows is constantly yelling at him, trying to be cute, and that just seems like the worst life possible. So when I find myself slipping into it, I try to keep it at a manageable level." She shrugged, shaking her head. "Not that it's always horrible. Obviously I do enjoy it, I just don't want it to crowd out the possibility for sincere human interaction." Turning to look at him again, she caught his glance and offered him a small smile in return, leaning to bump her shoulder against his gently. "Lea told me she thought she'd invited you herself, but I'm glad I got to do it so you felt obligated to hang out with me. I like being around you too. We definitely don't get to do it enough. You're way too popular."

Darren: Darren laughed very briefly and waved a hand in the air to kind of brush her off. "You don't have to apologize. I was just messing with you but that's good to know because the whole sincere human interaction thing is pretty nice sometimes." He noted with a shrug and decided to leave it at that. He was definitely not going to complain about having that for the time being and although the bickering was fun, he did enjoy how they seemed to be able to be serious. He was hopeful that that meant he'd continue to get to know her more. When he felt the bump on his shoulder, he gave her a gentle one back with the smile still on his face. "She probably mentioned it. As much as I hate to admit it, I can be forgetful sometimes, especially this time of year, you know?" He scrunched up his face a little in a bit of disgust at himself but then laughed. "Me? Please, you're the popular one, Miss Atlanta. I'm actually surprised you'd even want to come with me."

Lizzie: "Because you have a million things going on? I get it." She nodded sympathetically, knowing exactly the kind of craziness that packed itself into the holiday season. Every friend she'd ever had wanted to hang out or was throwing a party, all of her family was planning a million get togethers, and through it all, work never stopped. His mention of Atlanta made her shake her head, dropping her face in her hands bashfully before turning to peep up at him sideways. "I uh... I actually have to go to Buenos Aires on the red eye tonight. I have a work event this weekend." She was blushing at the admission, knowing it was kind of an insane trip to have to make relatively last minute. "Why are you surprised I asked you, though?"

Darren: "Something like that." Darren admitted with a nod before he looked out in front of him for a moment. "I feel bad though. It's not really the best of excuses, you know? Everyone has a million things going on, especially now.” The holidays did add to things but Darren was sometimes a forgetful person when it came to dates and events. His ex used to fill him in on everything and lately his brother for all their promotional things. It took a moment for Darren to process what she had just said and he opened his mouth a few times before letting out a laugh. “Tonight? So then what are we doing here? I should take you home so you can rest or pack or something.” He had shifted so that he was completely facing her at this point. After hearing the question, he thought for a moment and just shrugged. “I don’t know. I just am. Not in a bad way or anything. I mean I’m glad you did like I said but it’s just…nice and surprising.”

Lizzie: "It doesn't seem like you're making excuses, though. Even if everyone is busy, that doesn't make it any easier for you to deal with. But maybe you should get like, an Apple watch or something. You can just whisper your appointments into it and it'll remind you when it's time." His reaction was exactly what she expected, but she still couldn't help the sharp peal of laughter that escaped her before she clapped her hands over her mouth. "Oh my god, Darren, calm down. I already packed, I promise. Ready to go, car is booked, ticket is printed. I promise I'm okay. Though you can't keep me out late, okay? Otherwise I'm going to look even less cute when I land." She pushed a hand through her hair, annoyed that it wouldn't stay out of her face. The wind on the canyons was always such a bitch to deal with. "I'm just glad you wanted to come, honestly. Even if you didn't need the invite for me, it meant a lot."

Darren: "Nice plug there for Apple." Darren joked before he started jokingly looking around. "Are you their secret sponsor or something?" He teased and let it last for only a moment more before focusing back on the topic. "I appreciate that though. I should probably invest in one of those things but I don't know. I'm more of a traditional watch kind of guy." He noted, holding up his wrist to show the one he had on. As soon as she started laughing at him, he reached over and bumped her a little. "Rude." He couldn't help but laugh along with her though. "But okay, fine. I'm glad you're okay and I promise I won't keep you out late. You'll be like Cinderella tonight and I won't miss the whole midnight thing. For the record though, I don't think it's possible for you to ever look less cute." That might have been crossing a line but he reasoned with himself that friends said things like that all the time so why not? "I guess it's kind of a good thing I forgot about the whole thing originally, huh? I would have ended up bothering you during the night regardless but I'm just glad it happened this way instead."

Lizzie: "Uh yeah, they pay me ten thousand dollars every time I drop that tidbit. How do you think I bought my new house?" These bumps were becoming a little excessive, and she let him know by shooting him a playfully dirty look. "Maybe I like being rude. Or I just have to be rude to men who question my motives for recommending top of the line personal electronics. Then again, hey. We have similar taste." When he held up his wrist, she matched him, holding hers out so he could see the similarly masculine watch she was sporting. "I almost always wear men's watches, even if I have to get like five links removed to make them fit. I just like the way they look better. I love that whole contrast between feminine and masculine." She figured that was apparent enough from knowing her, the way her style always mixed and tended toward the androgynous over the super girly most days, but she found herself opening up to him, wanting to tell him things about herself without even really realizing why. Maybe it was the way she felt the heavy thud of her heart against her ribs when he complimented her, the pleasure at knowing her thought of her that way - a feeling that was instantly followed by the urge to repress, the doubt because hey, he could just be saying that in the most platonic way possible. And even if he wasn't, well. She liked him, she liked knowing him, getting to spend time with him, and she learned her lesson on not fucking up things like that, things that mattered to her, by letting romantic feelings get involved. If wanting someone always meant losing them, then she wasn't going to be stupid enough to let herself wan him. "Hey, thank you. I strive for cute, you know?" And see, she could take a compliment for what it was, a face value observation, without making it more. That part was easy.

Darren: "Ten thousand, huh? I'm judging now that you haven't dropped that tidbit more than. But I'm onto you now. It all makes sense." The smile on his face didn't waver but he gave her a small nod to let her know that he got what the look was for. "Part of me is thinking that you actually do like being rude a little tiny bit." He narrowed his eyes just as he mentioned the 'tiny bit' part. When she showed the watch, he leaned a little closer to her to get a better look at it. It wasn't something he was actually paying much attention to throughout the night if he was being honest. "You've got good taste, too. But that's interesting though and I'm not just saying that. It's never really something I've thought of before or heard anyone really talk about." It was at this point something that just added to how interesting she was to him even though it was seemingly a minor thing. With the whole topic of watches in mind, Darren happened to look at his and saw the time. “Are you sure you’re okay with the whole flight thing?” He knew the answer but still just wanted to make sure. Of course, there was no way of him knowing this was happening before but had he, he would have tried to help with everything a little more than he had just to make things easier for her. “How long are you even going?” He added in since he didn’t ask originally and was hoping maybe a bit selfishly that it wasn’t too long. “And hey, you’re welcome. You strive for it and achieve it so you should feel very proud of yourself.”

Lizzie: His glance at his watch made her follow suit, suddenly anxious that it was getting too late. It was very easy to make her nervous, and anxiousness caught quickly, but she seemed to relax once she saw the time. "No, it's okay. I mean maybe we should get going soon but I'm all ready to go otherwise. I'm trying to stay up late so I sleep on the plane, it's a twelve-hour flight." She winced saying it, the prospect of flying for that long, even in first class, not at all fun to contemplate. "I'm going for the weekend; I'll be back in time for Thanksgiving. I have a big secret project I'm doing; my whole team is coming down." The word secret was accompanied by some waggling eyebrows, knowing exactly how ridiculous it was to be mysterious about the trip. "Really just like. A photoshoot and we're filming something he next couple of months is going to be... a lot of random stuff, hopefully. Events and stuff that I normally wouldn't be doing, 'cause of Wind River. Actually now I feel like I already told you this, sorry if I'm repeating myself." Still beyond annoyed with her hair, she finally gave in and pulled her hair elastic off her wrist and pulled her hair up into a ponytail, finally getting it all off of her face. "What about you, are you done with ACS now? Full time focused on your music? I'm excited about your concert, I think it's going to be super fun."

Darren: He did his best to try to read her in that moment. It seemed like she was being genuine when she said that it was okay so he accepted that and was relieved to hear it because he didn't want to call it a night just yet. "Okay, you just say the word though. I had no idea it was that long of a flight so yeah, that's a smart idea. Just sleep most of the way." Darren liked flying but still wasn't a huge fan of the whole process. The travel day was always so exhausting and never really fun. He perked up when he heard the whole bit about a secret project. It seemed like that was a theme for her and it made him wonder if there was some secret Hollywood CIA or something out there that she was part of. “You really are a busy and mysterious woman.” He noted with a laugh but it faded as soon as he realized she was apologizing to him. “Hey, no. Don’t apologize. It’s fine. You can tell me it a hundred times. I don’t mind.” It was the truth. He was fine with hearing about what people were doing and passionate about and he didn’t mind hearing about it tons of times because it was part of that person. He watched as she struggled with her hair and brought a hand up to his now cut hair. “I don’t have that problem.” He teased but felt slightly bad about it until she got everything in control. “No, there’s still a little bit of ACS left. Nothing too much but it depends on how editing goes and how Ryan likes everything, you know? Yeah? I’m excited you are and I’m really excited that you’re coming.”

Lizzie: "So what you're saying is you think I should shave my head? Still think I would be cute then?" She tugged on the end of her ponytail that had looped over her shoulder, wondering if that was a look she could pull off. Right now her hair was the longest it had been in years, and she hadn't decided yet if she was going to keep letting it grow or if it was getting to be time for a cut, though she didn't think she'd do like she did last time she made a drastic change and chop it off to her chin. That decision had been made in a fit of post-breakup impulsiveness, and while she'd liked the look it hadn't necessarily felt very "her." "Do you feel liberated with the buzz cut, or is your head cold without the curls?" The wind had picked up, and she realized she was shivering inside her sweater, her arms unconsciously wrapping around her stomach, trying to warm up her core. "Are you really excited for me to come, or are you excited I'm bringing your future girlfriend, Aubrey? Hey -- you wanna get back in the car? My LA bones aren't ready for this chill without a jacket."

Darren: Darren squinted his eyes and held his hands up to try to cover the hair she did have to see how she'd look without any. "Still cute but yeah, maybe just don’t go for that look ever. Okay?” He added in as he placed his hands back down into his lap. For him, the topic of hair was something he just kind of shrugged off. He noticed a lot of his fans freaking out over his short hair now but he didn’t see the big deal. He did with it whatever he felt like in the moment and that was a change he was feeling. “I feel like a whole new man but there’s definitely been a few times where I’ve forgotten and was a bit surprised when I went to go touch up there.” He laughed, shaking his head slowly as he remembered the first few times he experienced that. When the wind picked up, he actually didn’t feel a difference on his head or really anywhere at all. Weather like this was always refreshing to him. He could tell though that it wasn’t something Lizzie was excited about. “I was excited for you but now all I can see is Aubrey so you can third wheel. And that’s fine.” He said, standing up slowly and offering up her his hand so she could get up. “You need to experience winter in New York with me to toughen you up a little.”

Lizzie: She made sure he got the full picture, posing into the frame he gave her to get the image of how she would look with her hair buzzed off, her irrepressible giggle lighting up her face as she did. "That doesn't sound very supportive, Darren. Maybe I just want a bit of freedom to sit out on a windy night without getting hair stuck to my lip balm." She knew it was such a petty complain that it was bordering on ridiculous, hoping to make him laugh, mostly because she just really liked his smile. The hair cut did change his appearance, making him seem a bit... well, she wasn't sure how to put it. He looked good no matter what, but the curls made him seem a little softer, more approachable. Without them, his other features stood out more, his eyes and his sharp cheekbones, his jaw. Okay, she could admit it. The buzz cut was definitely a sexy look. "I actually lived in New York for eight years, if you can believe it. I didn't mind winter that much, I just bundled up a lot. I have a really impressive coat collection." It didn't slip passed her how he'd insisted that she needed to experience it /with him/, but she also wasn't going to draw attention to it. Instead she let him take her hand and help her to her feet, her mind laser focused for the few brief seconds their hands touched, the warmth of his around hers, before she reluctantly let go and walked to the car, slipping back into the passenger's seat.

Darren: Her actions definitely got him laughing a little more which seemed to be the theme of the night anyways so he wasn't too surprised. "I'm sorry. If I could control the wind, I'd stop it. Now how's that for supportive?" He said with a bit of a proud smile on his face thinking that would get him some points. It was a cop out though since he had no true answer given the fact that he obviously never had the hair and lip balm issue. When he felt her eyes on him, he wondered for the millionth time what was going on in her head but he took the chance to look at her now in this light. It was a simple change but putting her hair up made her look different. Not in a bad way at all since he always found her beautiful. It was just different. "No, I know that. You went to school there and all that but it doesn't count. I have no way of proving whether that's actually true because part of me believes you just avoided being outside in the winter and being bundled up when you had to go outside has made you soft. I'd let you go through that collection but you'd be out there for a bit." He smiled as he thought of being in New York with her. It was a place he loved so much, especially in the winter, and he thought that maybe she'd make him love it that much more. He gave her hand a squeeze right before he figured she'd let go. Part of him was a little disappointed that she had and he waited a moment before walking towards the car and getting inside. He reached over immediately to place the heat on low so she could warm up a little. "You can adjust it if you need."

Lizzie: For a moment, her concentration was focused entirely on her hand, on the warmth that she could swear lingered from his skin, on the electricity that tingled along her fingertips when he squeezed hers tight. Such a small gesture, but it occupied her mind in a way she knew had to be dangerous - first, because it was probably meaningless to him, and she should be careful about overhyping it into something it wasn't, a mindless sign of friendship he'd done without even realizing. Second, because even if he wasn't... this couldn't happen. That was the mantra, over and over again, because as much as the feeling excited her, it terrified her twice as much, and she couldn't handle that. By the time he finally joined her and turned on the heat, she'd managed to compose herself, though she still cradled the hand he'd held in her other hand in her lap, gently massaging her fingers over it as though trying to shake out the tingling, to push the feeling away and out of her mind forever. "No, this is perfect. Sorry I'm such a baby about it. If I'd been thinking ahead I'd have worn a coat, but I figured we'd be going right from the car to the house and back again. And yes, I realize this stop was my suggestion but I never said I was smart, Darren."

Darren: The moment after he adjusted the heat, he took a moment to look into the backseat. Sometimes there was a sweatshirt or something thrown back there but of course, the time he was looking for one there was nothing. Had he had a jacket on he would have given it to her back when they were still outside but this was his backup plan and it clearly failed. He was glad though that she already seemed to be warming up and he waved her off when he heard the apology. "Stop. You're fine. I wish I had thought to bring a jacket but I guess I figured the same thing." The stop was definitely unexpected but he wasn't complaining about it and at least they still had the moments in the car left. "I wasn't even going to say anything about the stop. I can resist teasing you every now and again but hey, you said it about the smart thing. Not me." He shrugged as he placed his hands on the wheel. "So where to? I'm officially back living out my dream of being an Uber driver so you name it or you direct me and I'll get you there and will be expecting 5 stars."

Lizzie: "Everyone needs a side hustle these days, and yours is ferrying me around. I don't know what you're going to do when I drive myself, you might need more clients." She wanted to prolong the night, but she knew the smart thing would be to get home and double, triple check that she had everything ready to leave for Argentina - and she couldn't think of anything to do or go that wouldn't be an obvious ploy to extend the evening. She hated to see the night end, but what other choice did she have? Anyway, she had the feeling that wrapping things up would be wise. Anymore time in his presence and she might find her mind wandering again, and that wasn't allowed to happen. "Home, I guess. Laurel Canyon, and if we don't hit traffic I'll even tip you," she finally answered, reaching to buckle herself in now that she finally felt warm enough not to huddle in her seat.

Darren: "I'll figure something out. Maybe I'll just find someone who wants me to drive all the time. None of this 'when I drive myself.' You know like loyal clients." Darren didn't really get to drive often, especially lately. He was also on the move when he was in LA and the only other place he visited was New York which he tried avoiding driving in as much as possible. People were crazy to willingly do that on a daily basis there but to each their own. He was a bit reluctant to do so but followed suit in buckling himself in. All good things had to come to an end and it just made him excited for whatever their next adventure might be. "Is that how you determine if someone gets a tip? I have no control over the traffic so you're just setting me up for a potential loss here." He shook his head slowly as he looked around him and then began to drive. "Lucky I know some secret routes though so I'll avoid any potential traffic and make sure Cinderella gets home soon."

Lizzie: "Damn, I didn't know I was driving with an LA expert over here," she laughed, though her tone said she'd definitely be impressed if he really did manage to get her across the city without hitting any major traffic on a Friday night. The food, the warmth of the car, the soft music had the effect of making her feel sleepy and calm, resting her head against the back of her seat so she could look at him. He still seemed to be smirking, the corner of his lip curled up in a smile that made the corner of his eye crinkle in a way she found painfully adorable, that made her want to make it her mission to make him smile as often as possible. Her fingers were itching to reach out and touch him, rest her hand against his elbow, maybe even his leg if she was feeling particularly daring, but instead she kept her palms pressed flat against her own thighs, studiously avoiding touching him. "I'm so afraid I'm going to pass out on my couch and wake up groggy as fuck to get to the airport. Trying to get through security half asleep sounds like a fucking nightmare. Maybe I should have some coffee when I get home, although then I'm afraid I wouldn't sleep at all."

Darren: "You should have known. Even with no context at all to go on before this, you should have just known deep down obviously." He played along even though he knew it was furthest from the truth. He doubted that there was anyone out there who was an LA expert and if there was, he wanted them to drive him everywhere. When he started driving, he focus stayed on the road until he noticed that she was looking over at him. He glanced over for a moment and offered her a warm smile before focusing back ahead. Her eyes were definitely still on him though and it kind of made him both proud and nervous weirdly enough. It was clear to him why but it was nothing he was going to dwell on since he was definitely reading way too into things. "Yeah, don't do the coffee thing. I know what might work..." He said, trailing off as he smiled somewhat devilishly and turned up the radio. "Belt out a few songs right now and get your energy up. You'll have that bit of adrenaline long enough to actually make it to bed." It could work but he was mostly suggesting it just to see her reaction.

Lizzie: She both loved and feared that smirk, because it was thrilling, but it also almost certainly led to trouble. Whatever he could be up to would be too much for her to handle, she was absolutely certain of that. The song he'd turned up almost to blasting was a Journey classic, the first strains of Faithfully making the windows buzz as every note hit. "Wait, wait, wait. You really think I, with my horrible voice, am going to sing in front of someone who is literally a professional singer? Who has LITERALLY been on Broadway? That's not happening Darren, no way," she insisted, shaking her head as she crossed her arms stubbornly over her chest. "I'm not subjecting you to that!"

Darren: The reaction was exactly what he expected but that didn't stop him from genuinely laughing as he heard what she had to say. That was the response he got often whenever he asked someone to sing. The only time people willingly would do it is during the always fun drunk karaoke sessions when everyone was terrible. "Hey, it not like I'm not a professional singing judge sooo come on." That was his logic and he offered it like it was the most obvious thing. With a shrug, he then reached over to put on the radio lowly and there was one of those songs that you'd hear everywhere right now on. "You can't tell me you aren't a little tempted right now." He glanced over at her quickly with the smirk still present before he looked forward to concentrate on the road.

Lizzie: That would be his logic, wouldn't it? What a dude thing to say. Rolling her eyes, she reached over and switched the station back to the one that had been playing Journey, feeling less intimidated by Steven Perry than she was by Demi's Sorry Not Sorry act. She couldn't belt, that was for damn sure, but she could muster up an older, especially one that let her sing in her lower register. Anyway, from the neighborhood around them, they were only a few minutes from her house - she could do this until then. As the pre-chorus started, she closed her eyes so she wouldn't have to see him if he started laughing in her face and just started singing along, not quite at the top of her lungs but definitely loud enough to be heard over the music, the entire chorus and into the second verse, just because she was feeling herself now.

Darren: Darren raised his eyebrows and offered up a small nod of the head more so to himself because he was impressed that she decided to change things up. Even though anything and everything Journey reminded him of his Glee days, he liked that this was her preference and he could sense even without looking at her that she was getting ready to give in. A genuine smile formed as he listened to her and he just opted to tap his hand against the steering wheel as he let her get lost in her own little world. When he stopped to let a turning car go before him, he took the chance to look over at her and almost forgot that he was driving for a second. He didn't laugh or anything. He just was in a bit of awe because it was nice to finally see her like this. Once the song was over, he scrunched up his face in thought. "You're not terrible but not very good either." He said seriously before busting out laughing. "I'm kidding. Totally would have hit the button thing to turn this chair if this was The Voice: Carpool Karaoke edition."

Lizzie: She kept expecting him to join in with her, and when he didn't she just had to hope it wasn't because he was so mortified at how awful her singing was that he was trying to figure out how to jump out of the car without killing them both in the process. It was a longer song than she remembered, but finally she delivered the last "I'm forever yours, faithfully," and let the song fade into its last few chords, only then opening her eyes and looking over at him, her cheeks flushed from laughter and exuberance, her eyes bright with pleasure. She hadn't expected to catch him staring at her, but there he was, instantly making her bite her lip in mortification that he could look at her so intently when she was so... unguarded. It felt suddenly very vulnerable, and she tried to cover it by reaching up to smooth her hair back, as though the effort of singing had mussed it so horribly. "You don't have to lie to me, Darren. There's a reason I studied Theatre Arts and not musical theatre performance, I knew from my first summer at theatre camp that I was a mediocre singer at best, so I left it to the pros." Another turn and they were in her neighborhood, the hill they had climbed high enough that they could have seen all the way to the beach if the sky had been clear. She felt a twinge of regret that she was home already, but it had to happen eventually, right? "It's um, this one, right here," she pointed out a Spanish-style house done all in blue that she wasn't yet sure she was going to keep, a small gate blocking off the driveway that she reached into her pocket to click open with her remote key.

Darren: Never in his life would Darren have thought that something would come along to make him like this song even more. Seeing her so genuine and carefree was something he could definitely get used to and he hoped that he'd get to see more of. It was amazing how one person could make something so innocent seem so amazing. Darren opened his mouth in surprise as he placed his hand on his chest. "I'm offended. I'd never lie about getting to hit the Voice button because come on, how cool is that damn thing? It really wasn't that bad but come on, not everyone can be Lea, you know?" He joked, remembering her being able to take a song not traditionally sung by a woman and own it with Cory. The smile on his face faded slightly when he heard that her house was close-by but he quickly covered his disappointment up as he actually pulled up to the house. "Wow." Was all he could say as he then started to drive passed the now-open gate. Once he pulled up to the front, he put the care in park and held up one finger to tell her to hold on so that he could get out of the car and open the door for her. The nice gesture was immediately followed by a smartass comment because he couldn't resist. "For the record, I expect my tip to be in the form of another pie because I know that was an amazing ride not just because of the lack of traffic but obviously because of the singing, too."

Lizzie: Never one to let a chance to display some excellent manners and then immediately ruin it with a smart-ass comment, Lizzie still managed to be impressed that Darren went the extra mile of coming around to open her door, although she wondered if he might be longing for a driver's hat to complete the joke. Grabbing her purse, she waited for him to open her door and then stepped out, moving aside so he could close it behind her, waiting until he was facing her again to roll her eyes, wanting him to get the full effect. "I'll make you a pie to thank you for getting me home in one piece... after Argentina." She found herself at a loss again, not yet ready to say goodbye, but having no real reason to prolong the moment. Instead, she opted for offering him a sincere smile, one that really held all her thanks for being such a lovely companion that night, and leaned in to wrap her arms around him in a tight hug, one that she let linger for just a moment longer than was strictly necessary, because she couldn't stop herself. And she really didn't want to, anyway. "Thank you for everything, Darren. Get home safe, okay?"

Darren: Darren was a lot things but the one thing he prided himself on was being a gentleman. It was still too fun though to throw in a little comment here and there though. Plus actions did speak louder than words as they said so he'd always make that case for himself. Once she stepped out, he smiled to himself as he closed the door gently behind her. "I guess I can wait. The anticipation just might kill me though because really that thing was life changing." He was happy to admit that because he knew it was something she prided herself on and she was able to back up everything she had said about it prior to tonight. When she hugged him, he immediately responded by wrapping his arms around her waist but not as tightly as she was holding onto him. "No, thank you. I had a lot of fun." He said, leaning over to kiss her cheek and not really caring if that was overstepping because friends did that. Gentleman did that. It was fine. "Have a safe secret trip, okay? And don't fall asleep on your couch." He called out with a laugh as he made his way slowly over to the driver's side.

#p.015 #d.criss #after party

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