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dinosaurtsukki · 4 years ago

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❀ hypothermia | “you never did love me, did you?” feat. sakusa kiyoomi

⇢ day 6 of angstcember

⇢ synopsis: sakusa knows how difficult he is to love but for you, he’ll reluctantly let down his walls

⇢ a/n: the roles for this fic were supposed to be switched at first but i got really >:( about the sakusa hate night thing and realized that we don’t deserve this beautiful man

⇢ pairing: sakusa kiyoomi x gn!reader

⇢ word count: 2.2k words

ANGSTCEMBER MASTERLIST (feat. haikyuu!! and bungou stray dogs)

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going on a date wasn’t sakusa’s idea, rather, it was a whole conspiracy created by atsumu, hinata, and bokuto, who all had the ‘good intentions’ to get sakusa to get out and mingle with more people. in other words, go on an actual date. his hair was uncomfortably slicked back, his shoes pinched too tightly, and despite how un-crowded the cafe he waited in was, sakusa could feel the discomfort of having to breathe in other people’s air.

‘if this person isn’t going to show up in ten minutes, i’m leaving,’ he ultimately decided. except, that’s exactly when you decided to show up. sakusa’s eyes automatically glanced up when you walked in, searching the cafe, before spotting him at one of the tables.

“i’m so sorry about that, traffic was terrible,” you sat down with a huff. “you must be sakusa-san, right?”

“...right,” he nodded slowly, studying you intently as you quickly checked your reflection in your compact mirror.

“atsumu-san told me about you,” you smiled, lacing your fingers together on top of the table. sakusa observed that your nails were cut short and filed down neatly, something that he approved of. he honestly didn’t understand why people purposely glued long, plastic nails on their real nails.

“yeah? what did he say?” he asked.

“some stuff but...” you shrugged. “does it matter what he thinks? i’m the one you’re dating, after all.”

sakusa raised an eyebrow, slightly impressed at your quick judgement. with that, he tugged his mask down, folded it, and placed it neatly on the table. “you’re right about that. shall we order then?”

first impressions meant a lot to sakusa. he knew people wouldn’t normally use first dates as ‘testing grounds’ but that’s exactly how he saw it. and why shouldn’t he? people dated for a reason and if it didn’t work out, sakusa wouldn’t feel too bothered by it.

part of him did want the date to be unsuccessful because that meant he’d be back in the safe territory he knew so well. second dates, third dates, and everything after were uncharted territory for him. sakusa knew he’d only get more uncomfortable, except for the fact that your first date did go well.

despite the fact that you were late, you made up for it by offering to buy him a coffee. you didn’t shirk away at sakusa’s bluntness, in fact, you seemed to take it in stride as just a part of him. you didn’t comment on or make fun of how he’d wipe his utensils with a clean napkin before eating with them, instead listening intently to what sakusa said about bacteria and utensil storage.

he went into the date with the expectation that he wouldn’t enjoy it as much, a prediction that he thought was fair enough for him to make. but when you asked if you could hold hands as he walked you home and sakusa looked uncomfortably at your hands, you smiled and held your hands out to him. sakusa stared at them for a moment before pulling out his pocket sanitizer and spraying your hands. he searched for any signs of slight annoyance on your face but there were none as you waved your hands to dry them.

“if you’re not too comfortable about holding my hand we can do this,” you offered, raising your pinky at him.

“isn’t this what children do?” sakusa quirked a brow.

“it can be something that we can do,” you smiled, your eyes an invitation to the uncharted waters that had started drawing sakusa in.

it was a risk. but sakusa knew if he was careful, it could be a calculated one. so, he looped his pinky around yours and resumed walking.

as far as first dates go, this wasn’t so bad.

...

“another text omi-omi?” atsumu teased. sakusa scowled, ignoring his annoying teammate as he continued to type on his phone. the annoying part was that his annoying teammate was right and sakusa wondered if he looked too eager to check his phone right after practice

[from: y/n]

5:30 pm: hey sakusa! you’re probably still at practice but just wanted to wish you a good day. let me know if you still want to get dinner :)

it was just a short message but sakusa could still feel that uncomfortable stir in his stomach. the first time he felt that, back when you held pinkies on your first date, sakusa grew paranoid and looked up ‘strange stomach feelings’ on webMD the first chance he got. but it wasn’t anything physical, rather, it came from something else.

“shut up, atsumu,” sakusa drawled, trying to look disinterested as he typed up a quick response to your message, saying that he would be htere.

“what did i tell you guys?” atsumu chided their fellow teammates. “i just knew y/n would be the one to capture our omi-omi’s heart.”

“awww, they must be real special! when can we meet them!” bokuto begged, popping up beside sakusa.

“they didn’t capture anything and even if they did, i think they have better things to do,” sakusa gritted his teeth.

although, he knew that eventually he would probably ask if you’d like to meet his teammates, probably after he’d invite you to watch one of his games. sakusa knew he wasn’t going too fast for his own liking and as he watched you enter the restaurant, once again late and slightly out of breath, he felt that slowly letting you into his life wasn’t such a bad thing.

“sorry i’m late, again,” you sighed, smoothing down your windblown hair with a sheepish smile.

“it’s alright,” sakusa said, removing his mask. “i took the liberty of ordering for you, if that’s alright.”

“is that so?” your bright eyes locked onto his. “well, let’s see if you’ve read my mind.”

“i could just ask the waiter to change your order,” sakusa offered.

“no, no! it could be like a game!” you shook your head. “don’t you want to play?” sakusa didn’t quite understand you, nor your game, but he couldn’t help but feel slightly apprehensive as he waited for your order to come. you took one look at the food on your plate before flashing him a smile.

“well, what do you know? it’s exactly what i wanted.”

sakusa didn’t why hearing that made him particularly happy. “this wasn’t much of a game, to be honest,” he murmured.

“is it because there aren’t really stakes?” you asked.

“precisely.”

there was something playful in the way you looked at him. “if you really like someone, there are always stakes.”

...

sakusa knew just what you meant, he was in uncharted waters after all. but that didn’t mean he couldn’t learn how to sail in such places. he also came to realize that it wasn’t just him letting you into his life, but you letting him into yours. sakusa expected that you were a bit of an extrovert with how openly you talked to him, only to find that you did have a secretive side. the most you’d talk about were your co-workers who got on your nerves or how you wished there were more hours in a day. sakusa noticed that you often dodged around questions, focusing on him instead. knowing how much he valued his own privacy, sakusa let you have your own.

which was why he knew that the two of you had gone through a certain ‘dating milestone’ after you introduced him to your friends. sakusa didn’t really like how everyone focused on him being a germophobe and how the conversation seemed to revolve around just that, which was why he appreciated you being there to steer the discussion topic away. but sakusa made an effort not to be his usual self because he knew how important it was for you to bring him into your world.

“i bet you’re glad that’s over,” you chuckled after the two of you left the cafe. once again, sakusa offered to walk you home.

“it wasn’t that bad,” he murmured.

“that’s a compliment from you,” you giggled, linking your pinky with his as you walked. sakusa would rather die than let anyone on the MSBY Jackals team see him like this, but for you he’d take that risk.

“hey,” sakusa suddenly stopped, tugging you to look at him. curiously, you obliged. “i... know i’m not really the gentle boyfriend type but... you can ask and expect for things, you know? people tend to side-step around me knowing the kind of person i am, well except for my teammates but, you don’t have to all the time.”

you blinked in mild surprise before asking. “so, can i be selfish then?” your eyes gave away your intentions and sakusa loved how he was able to read you and already pulled down his mask from his face.

sakusa had always been creeped out by the thought of kissing people but as he kissed you, it didn’t feel like he was missing out. rather, it was as if it was happening at the right moment.

“can i be selfish again?” you whispered after you and sakusa parted.

“i already have half a guess as to what you’re going to ask,” sakusa smirked.

“can i stay over at your place?”

...

sakusa knew that things would be a little different after you spent your first night together, but he didn’t think they’d be like this. for one, your messages to him dwindled into one-line sentences or phrases, before disappearing completely. sakusa wondered if he had done something wrong. no, he was absolutely sure that he had done something wrong and had no idea how to fix things.

he wasn’t much of a social media user and sakusa didn’t want to be the type of person who’d get angry at someone for tweeting while waiting on a message from them. he thought it would be low of him to call you out in a semi-public space so he’d end up liking your tweets in the hope of getting your attention to no avail.

what had happened?

“hey, sakusa...”

“atsumu, i don’t need this right now,” sakusa grumbled, scrolling through his unanswered messages again before realizing that atsumu didn’t use his usual nickname. he looked up from his phone to find a look of regret on his teammate’s face.

“listen, i... i’ve only heard about y/n from a friend of a friend so i really didn’t know about this...”

“know about what?” sakusa asked, despite the feeling in his gut that he wouldn’t like what he was going to hear.

“i... don’t know if it’s better for me to show it to you--”

“do it,” sakusa clenched his jaw and nodded resolutely. “i want to see.”

atsumu took his phone out of his bag and opened what appeared to be instagram. sakusa didn’t have one and he quickly realized that it was to your advantage.

if he had known about the things you’d post on your stories, sakusa would have broken up with you a long time ago.

...

the club where you were in was miles different from the cozy, little cafe where sakusa first met you. it felt like some sick parallel twist and this only fueled sakusa’s anger and motivation to squeeze past the moving bodies until he finally made his way to where you were.

now all his questions and suspicions had been answered and sakusa was practically beating himself up for not realizing things sooner. when he reached the bar counter where you were seated, engaged in more than just a deep conversation with another man, sakusa didn’t even hold back.

“you’re a bitch, you know that?”

“ah, sakusa,” you regarded him calmly. “what are you doing here? this doesn’t seem like your kind of place.”

“yeah, and you knew that, didn’t you? you took advantage of it,” sakusa practically spat, hoping that his words would deal a blow but your face remained expressionless.

“i’m sorry but it was just all too easy,” you chuckled, crossing your legs over each other.

as angry as he was, sakusa couldn’t help but feel the cold reality of despair. he didn’t want to be right about his suspicions. he wanted to be optimistic after your first few dates went so well. he desperately searched your face for the person he had linked pinkies with and exchanged messages with and had his first time with.

they weren’t even real in the first place.

“you never did love me, did you?” sakusa asked aloud. your laugh was the only response he needed.

“if it’s any comfort, you were one of my favorites,” you cocked your head at him. “oh, and maybe try not to be so guarded around the next person you’ll date. it’s a bit of a turn-off, really.”

sakusa narrowed his eyes as he looked down at you. “the next one won’t be like you.”

“how can you be so sure?”

sakusa scoffed and turned around. the pain was overwhelming, but the spite even more so. you were the kind of person who thrived off toying with other people and giving in to rage would only satisfy you further. sakusa wasn’t inclined to grant you that.

“because...” he stuffed his hands back in his pockets and turned around. “lowlifes like you surely are one of a kind.”

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punkcupcakestyles · 5 years ago

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Sober up

So, quick note: I wrote this for the pypfc that the absolute babes @oh-honey-styles and @for-fucks-sake-h put together. I hope you enjoy it.

Part 1

If someone were to ask, there was a lot of alcohol involved. A lot.

It was too late to pretend it was never your intention.

It was just that your courage tasted like margaritas.

***

Harry was an asshole, everyone knew that. He was one of those pretty assholes, with the sweet smile, which made it hard to hate him, but, oh, you tried.

It didn’t always work, but you tried.

It’s what matters, isn’t it?

The night when it all began, it was unseasonably warm, and you stepped out of the crowded house to take a break before you could sweat...more. It had been a good idea to wear a dress, cause the light breeze was easing out the warmth of your skin.

You felt relaxed for the first time that night.

The porch was empty and quiet, which was just what you were looking for: A moment of silence to break the noise. You were settling in, even stepping out of your high heels to feel the cold floor under your feet, when the door suddenly swung open behind you. You turned around, startled by the loud music that was booming inside. Harry didn’t see you, or better yet, he chose to ignore you, as he walked out of the house, carefully holding the waist of a blonde girl as she stumbled on her own feet.

Tipsy would be an understatement.

You looked at him carefully, crossing your arms over your chest, as you watched the way he softly guided her out of the house. It was truly a sight to be seen, the girl kept giggling and trying to get out of his hold, as she kept grabbing at him, his shirt, his hair, whatever she could reach. She smiled drunkenly at him and he whispered soft words at her that you couldn’t hear.

A mocking smile curled up the corner of your lips as your eyes followed him, seeing as Harry helped the girl climb into an Uber and waited for her to leave.

“Awww, poor baby...are you losing your charm?” You bit as he walked towards you. He was wearing a red worn-out flannel shirt, with a white graphic tee underneath. His black jeans were sinfully tight.

“Wanna find out?” He smirked, brushing off your words as easily as they slipped out of your lips.

“Thank you, wouldn’t want to catch something,” you said, to his amusement and your disappointment.

“Or have any fun, that wouldn’t be like you.”

It had been like this for a while, ever since you met him, when he stole your morning coffee cup from you, shamelessly. He kept denying it, though, saying it was you who wanted to steal his much needed coffee before an early lit class. How cruel could you be?

He was a pest, a literal one. You would compare him to a moth if anyone were to ask, but in reality, he was more like some source of light where all the girls gravitated to. All the boys as well.

Everyone but you.

He stood next to you, leaning on the handrail as he looked at the empty street. He smelled a bit of soap and a citric perfume, and a bit of spilled vodka and lime. He flashed you a smile, an obnoxious one that let you know he was looking for a reaction from you. You held your breath, still refusing to be the first to give in.

“Why aren’t you inside?” He asked after a few seconds of silence, and you noticed how his curls bounced a little bit as he suddenly turned to look at you with curiosity shining in his big, bright, green eyes.

“It was hot. And I don’t know where my boyfriend is,” you mumbled.

He chuckled at this, that kind of low and dry laughter that comes with bad news. You breathed in slowly, letting the sudden dreadful feeling take over your chest. Bad news were indeed coming, you could feel it in your aching bones.

“What?” you snapped.

“Nothin’”

“You’re an idiot, did you know that?” You tore yourself away from the handrails, ready to get the hell out of there. Away from Harry and the intense way he always made you feel.

But Harry stopped you in your tracks, his long fingers wrapping around your wrist and pulling you closer to his chest. The sudden movement made you crash against him, and your eyes widened in surprise as he looked down at you with that stupid smile of his.

“What?!”

“Your boyfriend’s fucking his best friend. That’s why you can’t find him.”

The words had barely registered in your brain, but you were ready to fight them. Your hand went to his chest and you pushed him away until you were free of his touch. You could feel the rage boiling in your veins, but all that fire could only be aimed at Harry, he could handle it, he deserved it.

“Oh, that’s pathetic, Harry, lying like that!”

“Why would I do that?”

“Cause he’s a good guy, unlike you!”

“He’s not that different from the guy you think I am,” he replied, calm and softly, as if you were a wounded animal and he was afraid that you would attack him. Easy, slowly, quietly, that was the best way to approach you.

“Of course he is!!!”

“Look, I know you cannot be a very good fuck, so I get it,” he sighed as if he regretted saying anything at all. “But he’s cheating on you with his best friend. I’ve seen them. Been meaning to tell you.”

“Margaret has a boyfriend, she’s gonna get married,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest in a victory gesture. It wasn’t true. It couldn’t be true.

“I never said it was a girl.”

***

It wasn’t with a girl.

It was his best friend David.

He was prettier than you, you would give him that.

And even though the realization didn’t come as hurtful as expected, days of torment came ahead. The most annoying thing was the fact that people looked at you as if you were stupid, worthy of pity. You hated the fact that everyone was treating you as if you were made of glass and could break apart if someone held you too hard.

Everyone but Harry.

He kept treating you like he usually did; like you bored him to death. His disinterested glare would follow you from time to time, as he bit the side of his cheek, which made his jawline pop even more, maybe waiting for you to fuck up.

He was fucking obnoxious.

***

If anything, going out that night had been a bad idea. Your head was fuzzy, maybe from all of the margaritas you’ve had. It was cheap alcohol, so you could only expect a massive headache.

Once again, you found yourself at the porch, witnessing how Harry helped a brunette get inside a car. He kept his head low, maybe hoping you hadn’t noticed it was him. But you noticed, and you had to let him know. It was the least he deserved.

“Do you think,” you started to ask as he walked by you on his way to the house. “they know you are a bad fuck and that’s why they’re running away? Cause, dude, something is going on...”

It caught his attention, no doubt, and Harry turned on his heels, walking menacingly towards you. He was taller than you, so when he stood in front of you, it almost felt like you should take a step back. Or maybe two.

“Do you really think I’m a bad fuck?” He whispered and his voice made you shiver. It wasn’t fear what you were feeling, not quite. It was a new type of excitement, one that only grew as you stare into his eyes and his lips curled into a mocking smile.

“I bet you are,” you whispered back, hoping to get a reaction out of him. You just didn’t know what you were expecting.

“Why does it sound like you want to find out?” He cocked his head, still staring into your eyes. He was definitely amused.

“Nah, I’m good with disappointments.”

He took one step closer.

“Are you sure?”

You could feel his warm breath fanning over your skin and the electricity that was scrambling up to his skin. It almost felt like the world had stopped, leaving only and Harry to slowly burn under each other’s stare.

You gulped. Maybe you weren’t so sure after all. Not sure at all.

“What if I’m not?”

Your words were barely a whisper, fueled by your heart beating so hard that it was pressing against your neck. You had no idea where this was coming from, but you felt a sudden urgency to know what his lips tasted like.

“I knew you liked me,” he smirked before turning around to enter the house.

***

Every effort you had made to avoid him came to a violent end.

There you were, stuck in his car while he drove you to God knows where.

You peered up to him, noticing how he bobbed his head to the rhythm of Fame by David Bowie. His two fingers drummed over the steering wheel, and he hummed lightly, focusing on the road ahead of him. He was wearing a green snapback backward, that crushed his curls and a black plaid shirt, that he was wearing unbuttoned halfway down his chest.

“Don’t pout,” he said when his eyes met yours, and you quickly looked away, suddenly interested in the dust that covered the road. Where the fuck was that party?

It was supposed to be a week getaway, now that your days as a college student where officially running out. Alcohol, party, guilt-free junk food and sex...for those who had someone to fuck.

No orgies were allowed. That would make it weird.

The thought occurred to you and you briskly looked at Harry, narrowing your eyes as you saw him smiling.

“Why didn’t you bring anyone?” You asked and he shrugged, still looking ahead at the road.

“Who would I bring?”

“I dunno, one of your many girls. You must have a list.”

“Didn’t have time to pick anyone up, you don’t know how to fix your bloody car.”

His accent did things to you when it got rough.

Not that you would ever admit it.

“You could’ve left me there. I would’ve called an Uber.”

“Yeah, and then you would’ve told everyone I was an asshole.”

“Oh, I always say that about you. It wouldn’t make a difference,” you smirked, giggling a bit as he turned to glare at you. “And I don’t know how to fix my car cause Andrew always did that for me.”

Harry switched on his seat and his face turned somber, almost uncomfortable, which made you feel bad for some reason.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “Were you...did you...fuck!”

“Am I dying of a broken heart?” you helped him. “No, I just wanted an explanation, y’know?”

“Of course you did,” he snorted, and his smile came back as he shook his head in half-surprise. “You would want an explanation so you could tell him his explanation was idiotic.” You tipped your head, looking as his smile as he slowly turned around to look at you once more. “I knew you’d be alright, I should’ve told you earlier.”

“I wouldn’t have believed you.”

“I know, that’s what lets me sleep at night,” he said softly, as his lips curled into a half-smirk.

It felt weird, to be in a car with him without going at each other’s throats. You were natural enemies, like cats and dogs, or some guys and showers. There was no need (or way) to explain the animosity between you two. It was something you could always count on.

You closed your eyes, sighing aimlessly as he drove around, as a subtle way to let him you were done with this conversation. And every other that could follow it.

Talking to Harry made all of the feelings come back, made you feel warm and your skin prickled with something that could only be described as excitement. It made you feel giddy.

You had realized that years ago. You had never even tried to understand it.

You opened your eyes again when the car came to a full stop, and Harry parked in front of a huge white house. The air felt salty and the music coming from the house was so loud it made you wince a little bit. It took you a bit to gather your bits, and you slowly stepped out of the car as Harry got all your things from the back of it. Leaning on the car, you waited for him until he stood in front of you.

“Ready?” You asked him, not even pretending that you were gonna help him carry shit.

He looked at the house and peered at you again as if he was deciding whether he was ready to go in. You looked at him, as his eyes traveled from your eyes to your mouth, and that same electricity took over the air, the same anticipation that almost made you lick your lips. “What?” You mumbled as he stepped so close that he was all you could see.

“Shhh…Before we get drunk,” was all he said before he pressed his soft mouth to yours. Your breath hitched in your throat and your eyes fluttered close, shivering as his fingertips pressed to your ticklish neck. It was a soft kiss, a slow one, as he was getting to know you, exploring every second of your reaction. His hand dropped to the curve of your waist, and he pushed you against the car, trapping you between his arms. It wasn’t like you were going anywhere. Not even the thought of fighting him had crossed your mind. Your own hands held to him, slowly grazing over his muscles as you brought them to his shoulders.

Curiosity was burning in your tummy. It all made sense, all was right.

He was right, kissing him while you were both drunk would’ve been a waste of a wonderful opportunity. His lips were sweet and soft, and the weight of his body pressing down to yours felt heavenly. Your body molded to his and your heart pumped almost expectantly as he tipped your head just slightly, so he could deepen the kiss. Slowly, you parted your lips for him, moaning as he pulled your bottom lip between his teeth.

A loud crash came from the house, and you both broke the kiss, staring at it as you expected it to blow into a billion pieces. But it remained standing, a loud curse filling the air, followed by a million cheers. The party had indeed started.

Your eyes traveled to Harry before he turned around, wondering if it had all been a dream. Deep down, you had always wondered how it would be to kiss him. It was better than you could ever imagine.

Why did you hate him again?

***

The rules of the house were quite simple: If you were single, you were fair game. People could hit on you. Things could happen.

You had never really thought about it, never had to. That’s what Andrew was for, to shield you from the bitter breath of drunk boys while they tried to convince you to fuck them.

But now that Andrew was out of the picture, it almost seemed like you had a sign on your head that reads “offer to fuck me. I’m open”. So boys kept droning around you, and your veins were already buzzing from all the alcohol they had offered you.

If only you could take your eyes off of Harry. He had decided to ignore you most of the afternoon, spending his time with his friends by the pool, smiling at girls that kept stumbling his way, as if he were a fucking magnet and they had no other choice. You couldn’t stop yourself from looking at him, even though you tried to keep your distance, staying by the kitchen and only coming out when it was strictly necessary.

His skin was almost golden now, and his muscles glistened with droplets of water as he entered the house. His eyes fell on you, and he rolled them as he saw Baz standing next to you, smiling almost lustfully as he leaned in closer and offering you another drink that you subtly left aside. Still, Harry made his way to the kitchen, standing right behind you as he pretended to be looking for a glass.

“So,” Bas dragged and you realized it was fucking hard to focus on him when Harry was near. “What do you say?” He asked and even though you had no idea what he was talking about, you nodded, out of politeness. His smile spread wide and you looked at him as he left, with a triumphant air on his step.

“You’re not going up to his room, right? He’s looking for condoms, the twat,” Harry spoke as soon as you were alone and you narrowed your eyes as you looked at him. His jaw was locked and he pushed his bottom lip out, biting on the sides of it as he shook his head lightly.

“What if I do?” You asked as coolly as you could. Your hands found the edge of the counter behind me and you leaned against it as you tried to copy his usual cool demeanor. As if the world didn’t matter. As if he already owned it. You realized now what you had agreed to. The answer was no, you weren’t going anywhere with Bas, but it wasn’t Harry’s problem. “You’re always saying I am no fun.”

“There are better ways to have fun…” One step closer was all it took for him to take your breath away. Your will quivered under his smile, as he looked down at you and his warm breath fanned over your skin. “Don’t you think?” He whispered and he was made out of trouble. You should stay away from him.

“Someone could say you’re offering to fuck me.”

“What if I am?” He shrugged, placing the glass he was holding onto the counter right next to you. It was enough to raise goosebumps on your arms.

He didn’t let you answer. It was probably going to be something stupid, a jab you didn’t mean, you both knew that. So you allowed his fingers to lace with yours, and you followed him as he made his way to the tiny bathroom by the kitchen.

People could see you, you were aware of that, but they were probably too wasted to care, or What exactly were you doing, following him while your whole body burned in anticipation? Adding your name to an already long list of names?

That was not a question you had an answer for, and you didn’t care much about it. Whatever it was that you were doing, felt like the right choice.

You would worry about the consequences later.

His hands are on your body as soon as the door closes behind you, but this time it doesn’t catch you by surprise. You were expecting it, craving him.

He was shirtless, so there was nothing to hold on to but his skin, so your fingers grazed over his smooth chest and pressed them to his neck as his hot mouth pressed to yours. He tasted like gin and beer and a little bit of weed. His hands settled on your bum, pulling you closer to him until you had no other choice but to wrap your leg around his hips to give yourself some balance.

Your fingers pushed into his hair and you pulled on his curls, making him moan lightly as his fingers dug into the meaty flesh of your curves. His lips were soon leaving yours and he trailed heavy, wet kisses on your jawline, traveling down your neck at the same time his fingers snuck under the fabric of your cotton blue skirt.

It felt natural, as natural as hating him felt.

You sucked in air as his fingertips brushed over the hem of your panties, and his teeth grazed over the sweet spot below your ear, right where your pulse was beating wildly.

His touch was ticklish, exciting, something new. Your hands fell on his shoulders and pressed lightly to them as he continued to make his way down your body. He kissed whatever sliver of skin he could find, pushing your shirt up so he could suck on the swell of your breasts and humming as he crouched in front of you, which made your feet fall back on the floor and caused you to stumbled a little.

Your eyes met as he knotted the waistline of your undies in his fingers, pushing it down until they were pooling around your feet. It made your tummy bubble in excitement and your bottom lip rolled into your mouth as you saw him kiss the upper part of your thighs.

He was taking his sweet time, pressing soft kisses to your hips and your thighs, until you moaned in exasperation, almost begging him to do something before you lost your mind.

None of you had said a word since you entered the bathroom, and you weren’t going to be the first one to talk. It might break the spell. It might bring you back to reality, and force you to run out of there. Away from him and whatever feeling that was throbbing in your lower tummy.

“Fuck,” the word escaped your lips before you could even think it through, as Harry bit lightly on your thigh, and his finger slid to your clit to massage it softly.

You could feel his smirk against your skin.

“Look at me,” he commanded, right before his tongue slid between your folds. You did, you looked at him as he licked from your center to your clit, forcing yourself not to close your eyes out of pleasure when he wrapped his lips around the pink little bud and sucked lightly on it.

It sent shivers up your body and you had to bite your bottom lip just to hold your moan down. He smirked against you, letting your clit go so he could lick the wetness that was already dripping on your center. His breath swirled on hot puffs of air against you, as he worked on you, licking and sucking like you were the most delicious dessert.

Your leg hooked around his shoulder and both of his arms wrapped around your hips, pulling you closer as he went back to suck and flick on your clit with the tip of his tongue. It wasn’t like anything you had experienced before, he wanted to taste every inch of you, his tongue lapped deliciously against your folds and your knees felt weak, maybe because your legs were shivering with every new movement of his tongue.

You couldn’t bear it anymore and your fingers tangled on his hair to keep his head still as your hips rocked against his face. It was slow, cause you wanted to enjoy the feeling of his tongue sliding between your folds. Every now and then, he would stop you, so he could suck and kiss on your clit.

“Fuck!!”

It doesn’t take you long to feel how your walls start to tighten and clench with every new lap of Harry’s tongue. The bubble of bliss in your tummy burst and you pulled hard on his hair as the world blurred at his edges and your tummy trembled with the euphoria of your high.

Harry’s breath was rough as he forced his forehead to yours and you pressed your fingers to his cheek, feeling his flustered skin before you kissed him.

“You don’t hate me so much now, do you?” He smirked against your lips.

“It was a one time only. Don’t get excited.”

***

It wasn’t a one time only. You fucked that very night, in the darkness of his room, with his hand on your mouth so your loud moans wouldn’t alert anyone. You rode him, enjoying the way his thick cock would burn slightly every time you took him all in. He bit your chest and sucked on your tits, leaving faded marks that you had to hide for at least a week.

You also fucked in the morning, this time in your room, before everyone woke up. Something good had to come up out of your breakup with Andrew, and you had a room all to yourself. It was lazy and slow, and you kissed sweetly, while your arms were wrapped around his neck and your legs were hooked around his hips.

It was a week thing only, you swore to yourself.

***

“I don’t wanna go,” he mumbled against the pillows, his eyes close stubbornly as you turned to look at him.

4 months had gone by since that party. You were clearly not very good at keeping your promises.

“Harry,” you whispered, even though you weren’t actually sure if you wanted him to go. “They’ll find out.”

It was the very first time he had spent the night, the whole night, in your bed. You hadn’t even had sex. You were on your period and he came to your door, looking like a capeless hero as he held a bag full of goodies: Ice-cream, chocolate, Nutella, cheese puffs, everything you swore you could never eat, but craved when you were on your days. You spent the night watching Netflix and actually chilling, which was weird enough.

It wasn’t something you usually did, but he had a cold and wanted to be coddled. So, why not?

“Let’em.”

You still hadn’t told anyone. You weren’t sure how to bring the subject up to your friends. “Hey, remember how I always said that Harry was an asshole and probably had a small dick? Yeah, I’ve sucked him off. Great fuck,” didn’t seem like something you would say.

Your nose bumped against his, and you pulled your hand out of the warm of your covers to press your fingers to his cheek, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before you closed your eyes again.

There was no use in fighting him.

He usually won.

***

“I think you should leave through the window,” you stated later that morning, looking at a blank point on the wall. Anything to avoid looking at him. It was harder when you saw him leave.

“Are you mad? We’re on a second floor!” He asked you, barely able to hold himself up as he was putting on his jeans. His accent was thick and almost dripping with honey. There were very few instances where his accent got rough, which was a shame, cause it made your knees weak. When he was fucking you, deep and slow and your fingers pulled on his hair or your walls clenched around his cock, that’s when his accent came out.

“There’s people downstairs, Harry,” you insisted, even though your tummy twisted in a knot at the thought of him hurting himself because of you.

“We’ll tell them we were studying.”

“They won’t believe it.”

“Then let’em believe whatever the fuck they want,” Harry said, suddenly serious as he stared at you.

“They’ll believe we’re fucking! They don’t need to know that!!”

“Are you...Are you ashamed of me??” He laughed in disbelief, and you felt your face flare up as your eyes went to focus on a loose thread on your covers.

“You’re not the type of guy I usually date, that’s all.”

“I’m sorry I’m not a closeted gay, babe. Or a stuck-up-horse-riding club boy.”

Your eyes snapped at him, but it was too late. He was already gone.

***

You had no right to be mad, you knew that much.

But still, your blood was raging.

He was sweaty, all of you were. It was one of those stupid competitions that your friend Rose would put together from time to time. ‘Let’s play volleyball, even though none of us really knows how to!” “Let’s run stupidly around campus!” “Let’s all train for a 10k!”

You couldn’t stop looking at him, the way his tattooed chest glistened and his golden skin were taut around his muscles. He was wearing a pair of white running shorts and that stupid green snapback and his curls were poking out of it as if they were screaming for help. It was the first time you saw him, since that morning in your room, and he looked fucking good.

As soon as the race was over, the boys had decided to get drunk, and you all followed them to someone’s house, so you could all enjoy the sunny day, without running your lungs out. You were all aware that it defeated Rose’s efforts to keep you fit, but you didn’t care much about it.

And now, the day was giving in to the night, and you all had had too much to drink. Everyone but you. All you cared about was Harry and the way kept flirting with the blonde girl that sat next to him.

You couldn’t blame him, she was fucking hot, sporting black shorts and a red sports bra that barely did anything to cover her poking nipples. You would’ve been flirting with her too if you could.

She put a hand on his leg and leaned over as if to tell him a secret and you almost growled, spreading your palms over the table as you looked carefully at them. You couldn’t stop, and you wished you could say you didn’t care. But you cared, more increasingly as the days went by, and right now you felt like your heart was racing in your chest, preparing itself for the moment it had to break.

He looked at her, with his eyes half-closed, and allowed her as she leaned over him and pressed her lips to his. She kissed him, hitching her hand closer to his bulge as he kissed her back.

Your heart didn’t break, it just stopped, it stopped beating and you stopped breathing. You could feel it cracking in your chest, and you could do was stand there and stare at them.

The girl giggled as she broke the kiss apart and Harry smiled lazily at her, telling her something before he got up from the couch to walk to the kitchen, holding some red plastic cup in his hands.

He stopped dead in his steps as he saw you, and his eyes went wide as he realized what had happened. Any haziness in his face went away and he stepped towards you, placing the cup on the counter as you recoiled back, trying to look busy in the empty kitchen.

“Babe…”

“That’s not my name,” you whispered, biting into the corner of your lips as you looked away from him. You were ready to leave. You picked up your gym bag from the floor and tossed it over your shoulder. “And s’not any of my business, Harry. Go ahead, have fun.”

“Don’t leave, please.”

“Why? Do you want me to go upstairs and watch you two fuck?”

“Don’t…don't blame this all on me. Don’t be unfair.”

“Oh, no, you’re right, Harry. I should blame myself”

“You’re the one that doesn’t want anyone to know!!” He insisted and you looked at him with rage firing in your eyes. “I was just…I shouldn’t have kissed her. I’m just...a bit drunk...”

“I don’t need to know, Harry. Let’s go back to what it was, hating each other was easier.”

“You don’t hate me,” he whispered as he grabbed your arm, stopping you before you could leave.

“I do.”

“Oh, I don’t know. If you hated me, you wouldn’t scream my name so loud when I’m fucking you.”

“Fuck off, we’re done.”

#Harry Styles #Harry Styles smut #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #1dff #pypfc #hs #writing #I will post it anyway #I know it's late #but yeah #anyway #hope you like it #lemme know!

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athingthatwantsvirginia · 4 years ago

Text

All Norman Bates

PART FORTY-TWO OF THE DO YOU SEE HER FACE? SERIES

Pairing: Jess Mariano x Original Character (Ella Stevens)

Warnings: mentions of estranged parents, therapy, plentiful pop culture references

Word Count: 2.8K

Summary: Jess and Ella experience a bump in the road on the way to California.

A/N: Just so everyone is aware, there are only two chapters left after this, including the epilogue :)

Sighing, Jess glanced over at Ella, who sat in the passenger seat with a crinkled brow and the cap of a red pen between her teeth. They were halfway to California, and Jess didn’t think he’d seen her without that same pensive look on her face for the entirety of the trip thus far. But, he couldn’t bring himself to be annoyed at her insistence on working over the spring break. Her cheeks were lively with rosy color, and her eyes looked clearer.

They weren’t all good days. Sometimes, she would come home from work or school and fall asleep on the couch almost immediately, lethargic and unable to articulate any of the thoughts which were jumbled in a confusing, depressed mess within her head. Then, when she awoke, she would often find herself needing to cry. Whether she knew what her feelings were about or not, she would let herself cry, like her new therapist was urging her to. Jess would rub circles on her back and make green tea and listen. And eventually, she would feel better. They were working it out together, just like he promised. Most of the time, there was a gnawing guilt sitting in her stomach. He shouldn’t have to take care of her, she would think. She was holding him back. She was weighing him down. Each time she brought it up though, he would patiently remind her of how much she had helped him, how this thing of theirs was a two-way street, and that he didn’t mind.

She would smile, in spite of herself. Slowly, it was getting easier, and she was regaining her passion for things. She was drawing again, even painting, finally making use of the easel Jess had gotten her for Christmas. Jess often made jokes about how big of a role their therapists played in their lives, but they only made Ella laugh, instead of making her angry. It was true, but she was becoming less ashamed of it by the day. It would probably always feel a bit like her and Jess against the world, but their world could be bigger. Help didn’t need to be an evil. She didn’t need to make survival her ultimate goal. Instead, she was working on happiness. And, of course, the antidepressants were playing a part no one could understate.

“You’re gonna make yourself carsick,” Jess warned begrudgingly, turning down the Killers song which played on the radio.

Ella rolled her eyes but didn’t look up from the essay. “You’re the one who gets carsick, Jess. I’ll be fine.”

Again, he gave a slight sigh. Sometimes, the silence could get to even him. When she was working, it was like she was on a different planet. “Whatever, Daria. Just call me the invisible man.”

“You are so clingy,” she teased off-handedly, chuckling.

He scoffed, though a blush rose hotly up his neck and to the tips of his ears. “Am not.”

“Sure, tough guy,” she quipped, then finally looked up from the midterm papers she was grading.

The current one was a pretty decent account of how Van Gogh made the most of his madness through his art. She was pretty engrossed in it, and it was almost free of her annotations. Her harsh grading style had become almost notorious with the T.A. circle at the University. But, sometimes, people really did turn in perfect work. Besides, she knew it was better to bite the bullet and give the advice. It was what the students were there for, after all. And subtlety had never been her strong suit.

For what it was worth, she was working on the drive in an attempt to have less to do once they actually reached California. The plans were to spend the week on the beach, reading and drawing, and popping into Jess’s father’s house every now and again. The visit was partially for vacation, partially an obligatory gesture. Jess hadn’t visited in so long, the guilt was starting to get to him. His father was a douchebag, but he had still welcomed Jess into his home when he didn’t have to. The gesture certainly counted for something.

Watching the darkness of the road ahead, Jess tried to keep his anxiety at bay. He had to remind himself that Ella was with him, they were older, and even more stable than they had been the last time they visited. He didn’t need to feel nervous about the trip, but the memories of his lonely months in Venice were itching at the back of his mind. Sometimes, he would give in and scratch, even if it only made things worse. He bit at his bottom lip, eyes occasionally wandering to the sky. There were stars, lots out in the heartland of America with no light pollution. And there were hardly any other cars, as the night went from evening to late. There were no concrete plans about where to stay the night, just the next decent motel they happened upon. Each time Ella suggested stopping, Jess insisted he was fine to keep driving. He wanted to get as much done as he could manage. Truthfully, he was not looking forward to the silence of the nighttime, when Ella went to sleep and he had to be alone with thoughts of his father turning over and over in his head.

“Do you hear that?” she asked after a moment, brows furrowing. With her attention away from her work, she had begun to pick up on a faint clicking sound.

“Hear what?” Jess said, broken from his anxious reverie.

“Listen,” she said, then gave a hesitant pause. Then added: “It’s getting louder.”

Jess did as she told him, turning the quiet music on the radio all the way down. Sure enough, beneath the rushing of the tires and the occasional screech they had come to tune out after years of riding in the death trap, there was a clicking. And it was getting louder, faster and faster. Then, Jess began to feel a drag in his speed and a resistance in his brakes.

. . .

Too tired even to work, Ella laid with her hands behind her head and stared up at the ceiling. They were somewhere in Kansas, with shitty cell reception and even shittier motels. No auto repair shop would be open until the morning, the man with the tow truck had said, but he suspected it was the engine, based on the sound they had described to him. Luckily, the man had been kind enough to drive them to the nearest 24-hour lodging. The Ambassador would sit solitary in the tow yard until the morning, when they came to bring it to whatever repair shop had the lowest prices. In all honesty, Ella was just glad they hadn’t been forced to spend the night on the side of the highway. It had taken them almost a half an hour before finally getting Ella’s cell in the right position to handle a call to information, to get the name of a towing company. The whole ordeal had been nerve-wracking, but she was feeling marginally better behind the safety of their closed motel room door. At the front desk there sat a disinterested woman with thick glasses which magnified her light eyes and a magazine open on the desk in front of her. She had told them a lost key was a $50 fee before sending them on their way with little more than a glance.

It wasn’t a shock. Jess’s car had been living on borrowed time for quite a while, anyway. Rusty and creaky and dying. Ella almost felt vindicated. Finally, her predictions had come true. She had expressed doubt when Jess had said he would be the one driving, to give her time to work and relax. He’d been encouraging her to relax more often recently, and she appreciated it. But riding passenger in the Ambassador was anything but relaxing. Ella still couldn’t believe how flabbergasted Jess had looked when he had to pull over on the side of the road, unable to drive safely with the way the gas pedal wasn’t cooperating. Ella felt a bit of foolish nostalgia at the thought of the vehicle. Another site of their youth bites the dust.

“I don’t know,” Jess sighed into his phone, running a hand down his tired face.

He’d been talking to Sasha for the last twenty minutes. It was past ten, but not the middle of the night. Jimmy, however, wasn’t available to talk apparently. Sasha had been suggesting alternative plans for them to get to California, though both Jess and Ella knew there was no way they were getting down there anytime soon if the car was as broken as they suspected. Even if it wasn’t completely dead (which it was), they’d have to wait for parts to come in. Who knew how long that would take for such an old make and model.

Eventually, Jess pushed Sasha off the phone with some muttered excuses and forced goodbyes. His head was swimming with fatigue, and he didn’t think he could deal with another second of his stepmother. Not considering how chatty and cheery she was. Putting his cell phone on the rickety nightstand next to him, he flopped down onto his back. The comforter had a faded floral pattern, but was surprisingly soft. He blew out a long breath and shut his eyes for a moment.

“So she took it well?” Ella asked flatly. She had heard Sasha’s good-natured badgering as she lay silently next to Jess.

“Oh yeah,” Jess replied. “Very understanding.”

Ella snorted a laugh and sat up again, looking down at him. She raked her fingers through his hair affectionately. He sighed again, eyes still closed. Biting at the inside of her cheek, Ella fought back a small smirk at the sight of him in the low glow of the singular bedside lamp. The night certainly hadn’t gone according to plan, but she couldn’t bring herself to feel too upset about not making it to California. She still wasn’t the biggest fan of Jimmy or the Pacific Ocean. She kept stroking his hair, eyeing his long lashes and exhausted pallor. She could tell how sleepy he was, even if he wouldn’t exactly admit the effects of driving so long.

She looked around the small room, big enough only for a queen bed, a small TV, some nightstands, and a bathroom off to the side. The rosebud wallpaper was yellowed with age and there were a few precarious stains on the beige carpet. But the air had a homey smell of dust and she decided it wasn’t the worst place they could have ended up. Fortunately, they didn’t need to find dinner, having already grabbed some takeout about an hour before the end of the Ambassador’s long, strange life.

“At least we won’t have to reconnect with that weird guy who works on the boardwalk,” Ella said, breaking the comfortable silence.

“The guy who sells the hemp hats?” Jess asked, then cracked his eyes open again. “You think he still works there?”

“I bet he’ll still be standing out there long after you and I are dead,” Ella replied.

Jess laughed. “You’re probably right.”

“Maybe I should grade more,” she said distractedly, speaking mostly to herself as her idle hands made uneasiness creep up in her stomach.

Rolling his eyes, Jess grabbed her gently around the waist and pulled her down onto the bed, guiding her head to his chest. “This is an addiction, Stevens. I’m cutting you off.”

“Yeah, well, the first step to healing is acceptance,” she quipped, placing a kiss on his t-shirt and settling in against him. For once, she decided to oblige him and sleep instead of stay up into the early hours of the morning with her red pen. Her therapist had also suggested doing work in moderation.

Jess chuckled breathily. “It’s true.” Then, after a moment: “I think I’m honestly more upset about the car than not getting to go visit daddy dearest.”

“Yeah, I kinda figured.”

“Oh, am I that transparent?” he deadpanned.

“Like a glass house, Mariano,” she teased. “I guess it is the end of an era.”

He nodded. “Yeah. No more weird cigarette burns on the ceiling.”

She laughed. One of the only nights in high school she had ever gotten stoned, Jess had picked her up from her house by surprise, throwing pebbles at her window. He found her eyes red-rimmed and glassy, her cheeks flushed, and her mind spacey. All she’d wanted to do was drive around and smoke cigarettes and listen to Joy Division. At the time, she hadn’t told him about the blowout fight with her father and Fiona. Not until the next morning over breakfast in the diner. When she’d accidentally burned the ceiling of the car with her cigarette, leaving a dark circle, she’d started tearing up. In response, Jess lit a cigarette of his own and pressed it to the ceiling without hesitation, unphased.

Smiling at the memory, she threw an arm over his waist. “And no more barrette stuck in the window crank that won’t come out no matter how fucking hard I try.”

Jess snorted a laugh. After the Arctic Monkeys concert they’d attended the previous summer, they’d had sex in the backseat. One of her barrettes had somehow ended up eternally wedged in the window crank. The next day, she’d taken a pair of pliers to it fruitlessly. Jess had teased her, the woman who prided herself on being able to fix anything, mercilessly, ever since.

“And about a million other ‘no mores.’ Who knows what’ll happen in our next car,” he said.

“Only time will tell,” she muttered through a yawn. “I love you, James Dean.”

“Love you back,” he replied.

A gentle click sounded in the cozy quiet as Jess shut off the lamp. Getting comfortable again, he ran a hand up and down over her back and pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. Then, he bit at his bottom lip, and his mind flashed to the small red box in this duffel. With the thin gold ring, a tiny amethyst in the middle. He’d bought it months ago, on a random trip to some antique shop with Chris, and he had a few ideas in mind. He hadn’t nailed down a real proposal plan yet, but took it with to California just in case. It had been wishful thinking, of course, since California was neither of their favorite places. And they weren’t going to make it there anyway. Still, it was there. It was happening. He just didn’t know when. It made his insides feel fluttery and excited and almost sick with nerves. But, for now, he decided getting the fuck out of Kansas would be the first step.

Dozing, Ella let her mind wander again to their teenage years. She felt her heart ache with sentimentality, and then brushed it off. Not because she wanted to ignore the feeling, but because all of a sudden she didn’t feel it. She didn’t need to miss Jess when he was right next to her. She didn’t need to worry about the past. Let yourself have a middle. Lorelai’s words reappeared in her mind, soft and comforting.

“Jess?” she asked, voice beginning to grow rough with sleep.

“Hmmm?” he hummed, and she felt the word vibrating in her ear against his chest.

“Do you think that lady at the front desk is gonna go all Normal Bates on us?” she asked.

He sighed, but then it turned into a laugh. “No, Daria, I don’t think so.”

“I bet that’s what Jant Leigh thought too,” she replied, all too serious.

Jess kept his smirk. “Just call me Marion Crane, then.”

She giggled, then was quiet for another moment. Jess slipped his hand beneath her t-shirt and began rubbing small circles on her skin. Usually, she fell asleep within a couple minutes of laying down. Apparently, something was eating at her.

“I think I’m gonna take that job at the University for next year,” she spoke again suddenly.

“Really?” he asked, smirk turning to a small, genuine smile.

“Yeah,” she said, almost shyly. “I’ll have time for actually making some damn art, but I’ll still have a steady income, good benefits...ugh do I sound like a middle-aged tragedy?”

“No,” he said, reassurance in his tone. “I think it’s gonna be great, Eleanor. Seriously.”

“I just...I think I’ll be happy doing it.”

“I do too,” he said, kissing her hair once more. “Congratulations, Stevens.”

“Thanks,” she said with a nervous chuckle, blushing a bit. “And I’ll have that whole sexy professor thing going for me, which is a plus.”

#jess mariano #gilmore girls #gilmore girls jess #gilmore girls au #gilmore girls oc #gilmore girls fanfiction #fanfiction #jess mariano fanfiction #jess mariano oc fanfiction #jess x oc

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akitokihojo · 5 years ago

Text

Delicate - Chapter 4

"And who might you be looking for?" Sango questioned suggestively, the smirk on her face implying she'd noticed the several glances Kagome had spared up and down the halls. She'd thought she'd been nonchalant about it, but apparently not.

The question was, of course, rhetorical. Even if it wasn't, she treated it as such. Her best friend would know better than anyone who her eyes constantly searched for considering how habitual it had become. This time, it was a conscious search. She hadn't seen or heard from Inuyasha since Friday night, and her worry was nagging at her. All she wanted was to see that he'd recovered, to see that little smile he'd usually give in passing, and the stress would be satiated. Until then, she played it all off with a spirited shake of her head as she normally would. The last thing she wanted was for her concern to be notable. Out of respect for Inuyasha, Sango was completely unaware of what had occurred that night.

"So, what are you gonna do when you see him?" Her friend asked, walking along at her side.

"Do?"

"Yes, do. You guys have something going here, and it's cute, but you gotta amp it up a little. If not for your sake, then mine. I am living vicariously through you, Kagome! The well is dry!" Sango exclaimed, gesturing to herself overzealously as they stopped several feet before their classroom. "He made a big move last week by scaling your house like freaking Spiderman just to get to your window! People don't do that for fun, alright? This isn't parkour. And, I can assure you he didn't do that for a pin. Ball's in your court, my main gal, and you gotta reciprocate to let him know you're interested."

Kagome was a little taken aback by Sango's passion, the fervor in her brown eyes alight. "Did you have coffee this morning?"

"Yes, what's your point?"

"I can see why your dad doesn't like you drinking it."

"Focus." She grabbed the sides of Kagome's arms to make sure the emphasis was as dramatic as necessary to get her attention, and it took all of Kagome's effort not to sputter out a laugh. "Do you like him?"

"You already know the answer to that!"

"Then do something about it."

"What, exactly, am I supposed to do? Swoon before him so he'll catch me before I hit the ground? He'll just call me an idiot and tell me to get my shit together." As much as she knew that was true, she still found the whole situation humorous, especially the thought of the hypothetical scenario.

"Okay, so you'll just have to make it impossible for him to stop thinking about you. Oh, yes, I've got it!" Sango said, her face beaming as the epiphany hit. She dropped her hold on Kagome, rubbing her hands together in preparation of a scheme. "You know that flirty look you do? Where you have those sultry eyes, and you do that little, crooked grin, and then you look them up and down real quick? Do that! You'll mess him up for the rest of the day!"

"Excuse me, what look!?" Kagome felt the heat rush to her cheeks, her mouth hanging agape.

"Oh, don't play dumb. I've seen you stunt guys. One time, you did it so well, even I felt weak in the knees. I've got no taco cravings, girl, but you fucked me up."

"Sango!"

"Hear me out! The objective, from a woman's standpoint, is to wreck the guy they favor until he just can't take it anymore. I promise you, you do the look and he won't be able to forget it, and then he'll be knocking on your window again in no time. Wreck hi - oh, wreck him." She slyly gestured to Kagome's left, fading her motivational speech off in a low murmur to seem casual.

Subconsciously following Sango's nod, Kagome turned, her dark eyes landing on the half demon as he made his way through the hall in the direction of his own class two doors down. His golden stare met her own, but there was no luminescence behind it. It was dull and lackluster, like he didn't actually see her; she was just part of the crowd. In an attempt to attain his normal reaction toward her, she smiled warmly, never breaking the contact their eyes held. But, he did. He regarded her with such obvious disdain that it jostled her to the core, her grin immediately falling.

As Inuyasha made his way passed and beyond, Kagome's head shifted to follow him, waiting for any sign that he didn't mean it. She was sure it had to have been unintentional. There was no logical explanation for it. Inuyasha was snarky, temperamental, but to her, he wasn't cold. Not even when she frustrated him. He just wasn't. Inuyasha never turned around, though. He said hello to a person in passing and then disappeared into his class.

"What was that all about?" Sango gently inquired. Kagome could only shake her head in answer, signifying that she didn't know. She was racking her brain, trying to figure out what she could have possibly done to deserve it. Maybe he felt embarrassed for oversharing and wanted space. It was easy to understand, especially considering he wasn't much one for opening up. He might have regretted doing so. Humility makes people respond poorly; it was common.

Seeding deeply, Kagome felt a dark shadow of doubt crawl over. That look, the carelessness in his gaze, sent her a message. One she couldn’t decode on the spot. One that brought her to second-guess her initial suspicion. Maybe, for the moment, in the moment, the answer to this wasn’t what was important. She’d respect his chosen time to himself. He’d eventually come around. This was Inuyasha.

By the third day, her stomach was physically aching. It was like he adamantly refused to look at her, and if he did, she was just like any other irrelevant person. She'd given into the temptation and texted him the night before to see if he was alright. That was it. She didn't pry, she didn't bring up Friday or anything he'd told her, or even the way he'd been treating her. Just a simple text saying, "Is everything okay?" It went ignored. The guy even turned his read receipts on to let her know he'd seen it about an hour later. They weren't on before. It was deliberate. She could read the petty memo he was sending perfectly clear.

It hurt. Kagome didn't understand, and her mind was already exhausted from the amount of overthinking that wrung and twisted and carved uncertainty into every corner. What had she done wrong? She had to have done something. That was the only plausible explanation. Even so, how could she apologize? It would be meaningless if she didn't know the causation behind it, and even more so since he refused to talk to her. If she sought him out, it would ring of desperation, and as the glances still held cold or disinterested, the sensations he sent her stabbing and crippling, the rejection was too dense and painful to allow herself anywhere near him. If she did, she would only be willingly subjecting herself to more.

She felt stupid. So, so stupid. There was a part of her that had actually begun to believe he liked her. Even just a little. Yet, here she was feeling disposable; like she hadn't left even an inkling of an indentation on him. Typically, so it goes, if a guy treats you this way it was best to say, "Fuck him," and blow him off just the same. Take a day to handle your feelings, pick yourself up, and move on like a big girl. So, why was her chest feeling so stiflingly congested? Why did it sting so much for him to treat her like nothing when no relationship had ever developed between the two of them? It wasn't just hope that ruined her lucidity, that was a fact she didn't have to convince herself of. Kagome, though a daydreamer, knew the hanyou was distant from the beginning. Despite it all, she thought there was progress. She thought he was growing more comfortable with her. She thought he was learning to trust her. And, the salt in the wound was she didn't even know where she'd gone wrong to mess it all up.

Whenever they'd pass each other, Sango made it a point to distract her. She would either hook her arm in the crook of Kagome's and guide her in a different direction, or abruptly start talking a little louder to effectively regain Kagome's attention. There were very few times she brought up Inuyasha's sudden Jack Frost attitude. It was killing her that her best friend looked so sad all the time and she didn't know what to say or do to help. She feared bringing him up, in general, would only make Kagome's eyes fall to the ground in visible disappointment as she attempted to smile through it. Because, this was Kagome, after all. As hurt as she was, she never tried to show it. By the end of the week, though, Sango was reaching her limit. Something more had to have happened; it didn't make sense that the guy would change his mind out of nowhere. As a spectator to it all, she felt Inuyasha was pretty obvious as his feelings developed for Kagome. The infamous grump of the campus was progressively becoming a big softy for one single person. She wasn't the only one who'd noticed. It wasn't the major gossip filling the halls by any means, but it was pretty clear to those paying attention. How does someone just turn all that off like a light switch? She could be wrong, but she didn't necessarily get player vibes from him either. Something just wasn’t clicking here, and a badgering prickle in the pit of her abdomen continued to annoy Sango to no ends.

Just after school, as they were making their way out, Sango gave Kagome a small tug to the side so that they were out of the way of everyone in the corridor. "Spill. It's been long enough and everything seems to be worse. Am I missing something here?"

"Just about as much as I am." Kagome shrugged. No name needed to be said for her to understand who and what Sango was referencing. They had a pre-spoken agreement that, even prior to all of this, they kept it all hush hush since his hearing was sensitive. The last thing she ever wanted was for him to be tipped off by catching his name from wherever he stood. Especially now. On top of that, no one else needed to know what was going on. "I honestly don't know what changed."

"So, that's it? He literally went from sneaking in through your window in the middle of the night to this? Did something else happen in between? Like, did he make an actual move on you; get a little handsy and take the rejection hard?"

"No. No." Kagome shook her head fervently in reassurance. "He came, he took the pin, he left. He wasn't even there for a full five minutes."

Sango released an airy scoff, completely dumbfounded. "Are you kidding me? That's really it? What a prick.”

"Well,” Kagome hesitated, sighing deeply. Despite the circumstances, she was still reluctant to share Inuyasha's personal information. It played a key role in the scenario, though. It had to. Because, Sango was right, no matter how much it didn't make sense now, it was even more illogical to think he'd go from minor flirting - if that's what they could call it - straight to the cold shoulder. "Okay look, I didn't tell you this because it was kind of a sensitive topic, but I guess it doesn't really matter now. That next night, after Ayumi's thing went down the drain, I ran into him. He was really upset about something, so I made him walk with me a little to calm down and he opened up. That was our actual last encounter."

"You're gonna have to give me a little bit more to work with. What was wrong? Like, something between you two?"

"No, it was more about some family issues." Kagome answered, keeping it bland.

"Okay," Sango nodded, picking up on the hint. "He vented, and then what?"

"I hugged him. Then, I went home."

"Did you maybe say anything that could have possibly insulted him, or made him feel uncomfortable for talking about it all? I mean, from what you've told me, he comes off as fairly guarded. I feel like it'd be easy to tip the scale."

"I didn't say a word." Kagome admitted. "He asked me not to before he even started. He told me everything, and I just - I hugged him. Do you think that was what did it? Maybe the hug made him feel patronized?" The question came out as uncertain as she felt about the idea.

Sango’s face twisted slightly. “What? No. How? Did he, like, push you away?"

"Not immediately. He hugged me back first. And, even as he pushed me, it was really gentle; not in a back off sort of way, but more of a nudge. He told me I should get home since it was late, and it just felt like he was saying he'd calmed down and wanted some space."

"Wow. Yeah, that's gotta be it. I can't believe you tried to comfort him. What a bitch." Sango said with a straight expression, completely sarcastic in her statement.

"If that's not the reason, then I don't know what is." Kagome said, exasperation showing in her tone and flinging hands. "I've gone over it all so many times in my head -"

From down the hall, Sango noticed the familiar smile of Inuyasha's friend, her eyes instinctively traveling to the silver-haired boy walking next to him. Reacting swiftly, she cut off Kagome as smoothly as possible, her tone as friendly as any other conversation they'd had. "You're brother's clumsy, but he’s not dumb. I'm sure he won’t try to go up the stairs while he's home alone."

Though there was initial confusion, Kagome clued in at the suggestive shrug of Sango’s brows, only faltering to pick up the new topic for a moment. “Y-yeah. I - I know, you’re right. He’s just been erring on the bad side of natural selection recently.”

“You worry too much.” Sango giggled.

Kagome watched Sango’s neck stiffen slightly, her eyes flickering over Kagome’s shoulder then towards the closest wall in disregard of the boy about the pass them. There was a slight brush as Inuyasha maneuvered through, his white shirt skimming the sleeve of Kagome’s black cardigan. He’d glanced at Sango but not at her, continuing down the hall.

“Now, that was just mean.” Kagome mumbled. “He did that on purpose.”

“Hey.” Miroku greeted, undetected as he��d stayed behind. His tone was careful as he approached, sympathy etched on his brow. “Sorry about him. He’s been acting pretty strange lately.”

“I don’t know if you two follow any sort of bro code, but can you tell me what I did to make him so mad?”

“I would if I knew. I will tell you something else though, and I’m pretty sure he’d sell my body parts to a meat market if he knew what I was about to say, but what the hell. Life’s about taking risks, right?” He shrugged, his forehead crinkling with how dramatically he’d risen his eyebrows. It was like he was trying to joke, but his apprehension held back the punchline. “Every so often, Inuyasha does this thing where he cuts people out. I really don’t know what happened between the two of you, but I’m pretty sure that’s what he’s doing here.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just as it sounds. He just drops everything and pretends he never knew you. I don’t know why. If it makes you feel any better, I'll admit this time it seems a little different. He’s been more irritable in the last week than I’ve ever witnessed before, and that’s saying something. The guy is your typical Shoujo manga tsundere boy through and through, so attitude from him is like milk in your cereal; it’s a given. But, now he’s so crabby, it’s difficult to even get a basic response to a question from him. I can’t think of anything you could have possibly done to provoke this, Kagome. I’ve known him long enough to know this is internal. If I’m right, which I’m almost sure I am, he doesn’t like letting people get close to him, so I’ve seen this a couple times already. It’s like this routine of self-sabotage, but I’ll be damned if he ever listens to me.”

“If that’s the case, then why hasn’t he cut you out? What makes you so special?” Sango inquired, crossing her arms over her chest in defense. Miroku visibly tensed, a thick swallow bobbing his Adam’s apple. His Indigo eyes seemed to gloss over as he turned to look down the hall, suddenly seeming like an empty shell.

“Could you please not look at me directly?” He awkwardly spoke, voice wavering. “I might have a mental breakdown, and I feel I’ve been doing a really good job at holding an adult conversation.”

The girls eyed each other peculiarly before Sango turned away from him enough that he'd relax. "... Then why hasn't he cut you out? What makes you so special?" She asked again, more monotonously this time.

"Honestly, beats me. The only thing I can think of is he got used to me being around. I'm harmless. But, let's face it, you're not." Miroku suggested, aiming the comment at Kagome. She frowned, brows furrowing in response.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, it hasn't been confirmed or anything, but it hasn't been directly denied in a while, either. Whenever I asked, he would just change the subject. Which, to me, translates that the guy was head over heels."

"Wait, wait, wait." Sango interjected, making the mistake of turning to the hanyou's friend. Noticing his immediate discomfort, she then swiveled on her heel to talk to Kagome while her hands spoke in Miroku's direction. "You're telling us that his legitimate response to having feelings for someone is to stop interacting with them!? Isn't that a bit, I don't know, counter productive?"

"Depends on the area he's trying to be productive in, if you think about it. He doesn't like letting people in. Feelings equals closeness."

Sango groaned, "You're contradicting yourself. He has no problem letting you in, yet he cuts everyone else out?”

"He doesn't let me in." Miroku countered smoothly. "I just figured him out. Keep in mind what I said; this time it's different. This time, even he's effected by the distancing."

Kagome ground her jaw, the pout on her face more of aggravation than anything. Things were making more sense, and she was appreciative of the insight, but that didn't mean she saw Inuyasha in any better lighting. In fact, everything was made worse. What a dick move. Just like that, he was done. Because of what? Fear? She could understand the theory, really she could, but it didn't make it right. She hadn’t actually done anything to deserve this. No one did, and he's done this to numerous people. His irritability per their separation didn't make her feel any better, either. Miroku was right. While thinking only of himself, Inuyasha was simultaneously voyaging down a self-destructive path.

Truthfully, she didn't know how to feel. She was still sad, but it was transitioning into something else now. She pitied him, what he'd been through, his turbulent mindset that had him scared to let anyone near. Above all else, for her own sake, she felt angry. Angry that she wasn't even given a chance. Angry that she was treated like she was expendable by the person she’d come to value so much.

Fine. If that was his choice, then fine. There was no point in trying to change his mind, and quite frankly, he didn't deserve her persistency at this point. It would be a nuisance to the both of them.

Miroku gave a careful shrug, a minor cock of his head apologizing as much as words would, backing away and turning around to head out of the emptying hall.

Finally, Sango was able to turn and fully look at him. This wasn't the first time she'd noticed just how broad his shoulders were, how toned his physique seemed, and how nicely his school uniform hugged him. She really enjoyed his smile most of all, and she'd enjoy it a little more if he didn't have a tendency to get super awkward around her - and only her. She tried to take it as flattery, but sometimes it made her overthink that something was wrong with her. They couldn't even have a proper conversation. Other times, it was pretty amusing to watch him instantaneously grow flustered. With the perspective he'd just handed them, though, Sango felt a sense of respect forming for him. He wasn't just a cute, fumbling weirdo. He was kind. It was like he wasn’t afraid to step up when it mattered. He didn't owe Kagome any sort of explanation, yet he willingly gave one without prompt.

"Hey, Miroku?" Sango called. He glanced over his shoulder, blue eyes landing on her. "Thank you. I like your new haircut, by the way. Looks good on you."

His face flashed pink, lips parting slightly as if he were about to respond, but instead of words, the only thing he formulated was an inarticulate groan of some kind.

"You're gonna break him." Kagome stated.

"I know." Sango smiled proudly, the curve on her lips quickly falling away. She could sense that while Kagome feigned amused, the shift in her mood and in her lackluster expression was evident. She was justifiably upset and pulling a typical Kagome by trying to cover it up. Now that they knew the gist of what they were dealing with, Sango felt better equipped to help her handle it all. "So, do you want the straight-forward truth or gentle approach?"

"Both." Kagome sighed.

"You have every right to be upset right now. He hurt you. He's a jerk. But, if that's the way he wants to play, then he can do it alone - just like he wants. He'll realize his mistakes when he’s miserable. You gotta let it go, Kay. He's not worth this." Sango cocked her head sympathetically, rubbing the side of Kagome's arm. "So, you're gonna do what everyone does when they get their heart broken: You're gonna mope, you're gonna eat your weight in ice cream, and then you're gonna take the longest bubble bath of your life and wash him off of you."

"My heart's not broken." Kagome meagerly dismissed, a crooked smile on her face.

"Then why do you look like you're about to cry?"

"Because, we're talking about it." She shook her head, looking at the floor and smiling, as if it would shadow the emotion in her eyes. "It's like asking someone, 'What's wrong?' Even when they're completely fine, they'll still cry."

"Okay, here, I've got a plan! Yuka's birthday shindig is tomorrow." Sango wiggled her shoulders, a positive grin lighting her face. It hurt to see Kagome distraught, to hear the weakness in her voice as she fought back tears. A distraction was obviously necessary right now. "She's having it at that karaoke place on Tustin. I know you hate singing, but you can come and listen to me sing, which you know will be a good time. We'll get all nice and dolled up, look hot, feel good, laugh a little, it'll be fun. Plus, I think Hojo will be there."

"So?" Kagome chuckled, catching her insinuating tone.

"First of all, the guy goes to an all-boy school now so let’s show him some compassion, alright? I'm pretty sure he's jonesing hard for the female specimen since the last time we saw him was months ago. He'll see you, he'll go all goo goo eyed like back in junior high, fall at your feet a little - I mean, if that's not great for the self esteem, I don't know what is." She shrugged. "I think it'll be good for you. Please say you'll go."

Kagome gestured for them to start walking out, her easy expression showing her lack of resolve. "Can I wallow on Sunday?"

"You may. I'll even join you, if you'd like. I could use some wallow time, myself." Sango replied, hooking her arm in Kagome's as she walked at her side.

"Why? What happened to you?"

"Miroku. Miroku happened to me."

—

Kagome and Sango giggled loudly as they made their way down the block, the street lights and storefronts lighting up the semi-populated area in the night. They'd gone to Yuka's birthday party, and she'd invited more people than anticipated, all of them squeezing into the karaoke room - some either having to stand or sit on laps. Sango, of course, sat on Kagome's. It was easy to tell that the blushing boy next to them really wanted to offer a seat, but the only way he could build up enough courage to do anything of the sort was by literally offering his seat over. He was so close at one point to patting on his lap in proposal to Kagome as she came back from the bathroom, Sango could see it written all over Hojo's face. It was amazing to see that even though they went to different schools, and he'd dated around, and Kagome clearly had no interest in him, the boy was still adorably smitten whenever they were around one another. He was more the gentleman type; not very bold, at all. So, watching him try to buck up the confidence necessary to blatantly hit on Kagome in front of everyone was interesting on its own, but Sango just couldn't let it get that far. She lurched forward and grabbed Kagome's hand, dragging her away and into her own lap before Hojo could mutter out a word.

"Be nice!" Kagome gently shoved her friend's arm, trying to swallow her laugh. "He's innocent!"

"I just don't get it! How does he still have it this bad for you? Do you think he's never gotten over the fact that you gave him his first kiss? That's gotta be it!"

"He was mine too, and I've gotten over it!”

“You were never under it. It was a dare.”

“Exactly. He probably doesn't actually have a crush on me, at all! I mean, think about it! It's most likely just harmless flirting."

"Kagome, have you not realized his name is an action among all the people that have ever gone to school with him? Have you never heard that!? Like, when someone is crazy about another but can't articulate that properly, they just fumble over themselves and try to tell them through hints or any other possible way besides outright saying it - like gifting bunion slippers - they're pulling a Hojo. He's got a reputation for a reason." Sango explained.

"Ah, so Miroku's a Hojo around you."

"You take that back!"

"You've got your very own Hojo." Kagome teased.

"Friendship timeout! Thirty seconds!" Sango laughed.

“You’ve got a Hojo!”

"Oh, are we near The Square?" Sango asked, taking in their surroundings. Up ahead, the opening to the area was bright and bustling, orange lights strung from across store tops and posts decorating the environment and building the comfortable ambience for socializing. "I heard they have this really good coffee place! Let's get some!"

"Sango, it's past ten!" Kagome mentioned. "You're dad's gonna kill you if you come home wired."

"He won't be able to tell the difference between a caffeine buzz and the comedown from an outing." She dragged Kagome forward, attempting to scout out the place with her nose. Coffee beans guided her like the force, pulling her through the crowd and straight to the line that connected to the window for blessed java. "Want something?"

"No, thanks." She giggled, amused by Sango's addiction to the one thing her family forbid her to have.

"You're gonna leech off of mine, aren't you?"

"Just a sip." Kagome waited patiently next to her, her eyes drifting over the people hanging out and talking, eating food, drinking coffee, and generally seeming to be having a good time. It was a nice atmosphere, and ages seemed to vary from people her age to maybe early twenties. Feeling watched, she followed the sensation, spotting Inuyasha in a small group he was mingling with, golden eyes glued to her.

Even from the distance, she could determine his furrowed brows and straight-set lips showed he was unhappy, maybe even a little surprised to see her. The feeling was mutual, quite frankly. It’s like there were no safe zones. So, she returned the scowl, giving an exasperated roll of her eyes as she deliberately turned her back to him.

He'd caught her scent in the large-spread crowd, finding that lately he felt he'd be able to pinpoint it anywhere. He tried to ignore it, dismiss it as someone's annoyingly-similar perfume. It was no use. The aroma pulled his focus, bringing his attention to immediately land on the joyful girl. His stomach knotted uncomfortably, hearing her laugh, seeing her smile, noticing how the lights from up above bounced off her skin to glow beautifully. Her hair was in successive waves, not how they usually fell; like, her black locks had been curled only for the strength of the spirals to fall away. Her makeup was nice, intended for a night out, eyes shadowed in blended browns that made the depth of her irises pop dangerously. Her getup was upsettingly appealing, a grey tank top loose on her torso while a tight, black skirt hugged the curves of her hips, topped off with flats and a red, plaid, unbuttoned long sleeve. What a cruel happenstance, salt sprinkling into the wound he'd carved on his own.

Of all places to come dressed like that. He'd told her it wasn't safe just a week ago, yet here she comes waltzing around like a human magnet for unwanted, male attention. Her stare was more brutal than her attire, coldly sneering at him like he'd done to her before. He didn't like it. It tasted acidic, her spite. His fingers began to flex at his side, even as he turned away to refocus on the conversation between Miroku and the other guy they stood with, agitation pressing him with her so near. He'd already noticed a couple of men check her out just as she and Sango appeared, topping the list of shit he wasn't liking at the moment. It was hard not to pay attention to it. It was hard to even pretend not to pay attention to it. The half demon peeked over, his jaw set and blood growing increasingly hotter, chest contracting on his inhale when he witnessed two guys talking to the two girls. Already. Jesus fucking christ, already!

The guys were definitely older, and from their tones that he could just barely pick up over the multitude of conversations happening around, it wasn't a chat they were intending on keeping casual forever. One stepped a little closer, and just like that, Inuyasha was done.

Sango stirred her straw through her blended coffee while the guy closest to Kagome asked if the two of them would like to hang out with their group of friends. "We were just passing through, actually. Thanks, anyway.”

Kagome received the subtle head nod from Sango signifying it was time to go, the two of them flashing friendly smiles to the guys. Before they could make any further move, though, a hot-approaching person caught Kagome’s eye and she turned in time to see Inuyasha marching over, haughtily shoving himself between them and the two boys.

“Let’s go.” He all but growled, amber eyes burning through her.

“What?” The question was sharp on her tongue.

“Come on.” His voice was rough, deep, causing hesitance in her reaction, making Kagome have to force a response while she intentionally twisted her expression in defiance.

“No.”

“Now, Kagome.”

“Look, man, she doesn’t want to go with you.” One of the guys objected.

Inuyasha steadily turned around to face the fucker, the hanyou standing a couple inches higher than him. The idiot was scrawny and human, easily no match for Inuyasha, his short-lived bravery fading away as the half demon stepped closer in a manner to size him up.

“Back the fuck off.” Inuyasha warned.

“We don’t want any trouble. You know her or something?”

Kagome held her breath, never once having seen this side of Inuyasha. He seemed menacing and large, and she swore she heard a threatening growl begin to rumble through his chest.

“Yeah. You?”

“We were kind of in the middle of getting to know them, so -“

“Well, that’s over.” He smiled condescendingly, spinning back to face Kagome. Without a second thought, Inuyasha crouched down, picking Kagome up and tossing her over his shoulder, carrying her off toward the back path they’d found each other on the week prior.

She hadn’t expected it in the least. One minute, Inuyasha was squared up with someone, the next she was being carried off in the world’s most awkward position, a yelp leaving her mouth as her feet left the ground. Kagome’s hands were braced on his mid back, trying to prop herself up so there wasn’t too much weight applied to her stomach against the bony part of his shoulder. His gait provided a little bounce that she swore was never there before, serving to jostle her slightly every few steps or so. Her hair had flung over her head, and with how she was positioned, it was difficult to push it all out of her sight, making it impossible to see the entirety of The Square’s reaction to the scene Inuyasha had just procured - which was probably for the best. No matter how much she told the half demon to put her down, or wriggled in his hold, he never did. Of course, her demands were cut off by multiple, frantic oh my god’s, and her movements were nothing more than baby kicks because she was terrified of being dropped. The guy probably didn’t even take her seriously.

Sango, in wild shock at Inuyasha’s barbaric attitude, hastily went to follow after her helpless friend, strong arms wrapping around her core to stop her mid stride.

“Wait, wait, give him a chance.”

“Give him a - he literally stole Kagome!” She argued, pushing the arms away as she faced Miroku.

“I know, he comes off horribly but I promise he means well!” He defended, the grimace deep on his face. “Just give them a few minutes to try and talk things through.”

“He means well…” Sango scorned, rolling her eyes as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Funny you say that, considering you literally told us yesterday that he ghosts people on the norm.”

“Valid point.” It was hard to argue against that. “You got me there. But, if he really wanted to ditch her, he would have never pulled a stunt like this. No matter the situation.”

“That doesn’t make it okay!”

“You’re right! You’re absolutely right! All I’m asking for is a few minutes. His communication skills are questionable, but he might be coming around. Let’s not interrupt the possibility.”

Reluctantly, Sango huffed, giving in without another word. Miroku knew the guy better than anyone, and his conviction was heartfelt. It was almost impossible to believe that anything bad would happen with how he spoke. It was comforting. So, she’d trust him.

He watched her relax before him, though her arms stayed crossed, her brown eyes washing over him and around the area as she made no further move to follow their friends. All at once, it seemed as if a force had body slammed him, giving him no opportunity to inhale a breath as he took Sango in, his nerves going haywire like every fucking time before. She was gorgeous, mesmerizing, like no other woman he’d ever seen - in person. It was like he physically felt his expression fall into one of peril, his eyes wide as he tried to gather his bearings. She wore a dress, a wonderful, wonderful dress, that hugged her curves like he wanted to. The baby blue complimented her skin tone, her chocolate brown hair straight, and long, and flowing over her shoulders and the front of her body. He stared too long, uncontrollably so, and of course, she noticed, a frown marring her plush lips.

“What’s wrong?”

Oh god, how did he look right now? It took all the effort he had to aim for recovery, focusing on a single objective. It was like he was a young boy learning to flirt all over again, hopeless and awkward and desperate for love. A compliment. He had to compliment her. He had to compliment her.

“Y-you look - wow - um, that’s a - a dress that - no - you’re - you have pretty…” His stammering was worse than ever, tense and forced, his voice monotonous and robotic. He focused on her hair, her eyes, her mouth, her arms, her waist, her hips. “Thighs.”

Sango blinked, lips curling in distaste and confusion, completely taken aback. Was she supposed to thank him? The redness blistering the entirety of his face spoke volumes of how much he hated himself in that moment, his chest so still she wasn’t even sure he was breathing. Thighs. Of all things, he said her thighs were pretty. What was wrong with this guy?

“I could crush you.” She simply stated.

“Yeah. That’s hot.”

And with that, she took her leave, walking the path Inuyasha had carried Kagome away in.

Miroku was ready to cry. He was so close, so close, to an appropriate compliment and he blew it. The worst thing was, he still meant what he’d said. His body washed cold, and he felt empty, light, like he could drift away with the next breeze.

“Dude…” The two guys from before had remained, overhearing it all, equally mortified for him.

“I don’t know why!” Miroku wailed, begrudgingly following after Sango despite his humiliation. At this point, he was more inclined than ever to keep his distance from her.

Inuyasha placed Kagome on her feet, the girl grunting and stumbling backward from his unforgiving lack of gentleness. He caught her arms, stilling her, her hands quickly smacking him away and swinging around to pull her clothes down, desperately trying to ignore the underwear that had ridden up. “Jesus, Inuyasha, you had your hand on my ass that entire time!”

“Yeah, well if you weren’t wearing the world’s shortest skirt, I wouldn’t have had to pin it down to keep it from rising any higher!” The hanyou rebutted.

“You wouldn’t have had to keep it from rising if you didn’t go all ape man and chuck me over your shoulder!”

“If you didn’t say, ‘no,’ I wouldn’t have had to!”

“Oh, so I’m not allowed to not want to talk, but it’s perfectly fine the other way around!? You’ve been ignoring me for a week, Inuyasha, so why the sudden urgency!?”

He shook his head, a crooked grin pushing his cheeks, chuckling to taunt her. Nothing was humorous, he was just being a jerk. And, he was successfully infuriating her.

“No, in order to ignore you that would mean I’d have to care to a certain degree. I don’t. I see you around, I don’t care. I get a text from you, I just don’t care.”

Kagome rolled her eyes, slowly, antagonizingly. Yeah, sure. “Then, what’s so important? I mean, it must be important if you’re willing to break your silence.”

“Fuck it. If I say anything, you’ll just end up moping around for another week like you already have been.” He said, pulling the excuse right out of his ass. He had no good reason for snagging her. He had no good reason for anything. He just couldn’t stand the fucking sight of chummy pricks hitting on Kagome. He acted impulsively. Now, he was going to have to lie impulsively and end this so he could get a fucking grip over himself again. “Go home.”

“No! No! You don’t get to do that!” Kagome yelled, adrenaline heating her entire body and fueling her temper. “Why have you been such a dick to me lately!? Everything seemed fine before!”

“I don’t owe you an explanation!”

“The hell, you don’t! I’m on the receiving end of your crap! I have the right to know why!”

“God, you’re too much! Don’t you get it!? You’re too fucking much!” Inuyasha exclaimed, flailing his hands in exasperation. “I don’t even know how Sango deals with you all the time! You’re ridiculous! You’re so self-righteous, and you’re pushy as fuck! Once I realized you were getting a bit too close to me, I bowed out!”

“What do you mean, too close!?” It was hard to ignore the sting that was making home in her chest, carrying on further because it was too late to stop herself.

“What the hell does it sound like to you!? Think about it, Kagome! I swear, no one could possibly be that bad in school! It’s almost like you were purposely failing tests just to get me to come over!” His first mistake: eye contact while she took the hit. It was like some light faded from her rich irises. Still, like a train out of control, Inuyasha continued. “You give me your two cents as if your opinions are supposed to matter! You touch me, hug me! Geez, you like me and it's so fucking obvious!”

Hurt her pride, and she’ll leave. That was the plan. Whenever you throw out sensitive accusations like this, true or false as they may be, the natural reaction to the humility was to object, redirect the shame, and then walk away. He’d seen it so many fucking times, it was like clockwork.

The saliva she swallowed tasted bitter, a gelatinous denseness overfilling her stomach. He’d looked away, radiant eyes gazing at whatever he could except her. She hadn’t fully thought out a response. At this point, it was hard to form rational thoughts anymore, her voice coming from her lips of its own accord. Because, silence would only make him think he’d won. “I-I fail to see what’s wrong with that!”

Kagome had always compared the golden hues to that of embers, but as his eyes snapped back to her, the befuddlement, the surprise at her statement shifted the color to deepen, resembling the heat of an actual fire. Anger didn’t back up the change, as one would expect. In fact, she could physically feel his rage temporarily subside in the wake of this.

“I mean, really! What’s wrong with that!? So I liked you, big deal! Sorry it was inconvenient, but I never once tried for anything more, or ever expected you to reciprocate, so don’t act like I was next-level clingy and desperate for your attention! Because, I wasn’t and you know it! Why do you look so surprised right now, Inuyasha? Where’s your vicious reply? I mean, with the look you’re giving me, it’s almost like you had no idea I really did have feelings for you, which would only discredit your argument and -“ Her jaw dropped a little at her own realization. “You didn't, did you? What, were you just throwing out bullshit to try and make me look bad? To embarrass me!? What - what is that, a defense mechanism of yours?”

“Oh, fuck this.” Inuyasha blurted, the words tight in his throat. He turned around, beginning to walk away, the lining of his stomach burning while his chest twinged painfully. His fingers trembled, and he clenched them into fists, his breathing erratic. Mistake number two: allowing his nerves to get the better of him at her admittance. He didn’t know. She called him on everything, but he was so thrown by the reality that she really did care for him. “You’ve got it all wrong, but think whatever you want.”

“I don’t think I do! You’re not this mysterious book no one’s ever been able to open, you know!? I’m sure you wish you were, but you’re a bit too expressive for your own good! What’s this really about, Inuyasha!?”

“Shut up!” He barked, aiming it over his shoulder.

“Are you afraid of something!?”

He kept walking, the sigh he let out rigid and flaming, especially as he noticed Sango and Miroku watching from afar. He heard Kagome’s vexing laugh from behind, and it was like he'd walked full force into a wall, enclosed in a space with the bitch and having no other choice but to turn around and accept her challenge.

“That’s it. I can’t believe I didn’t figure this out sooner.” Kagome said, astounded.

“What the fuck are you going on about!?” His face was red, furious, marching back over to her to continue on like he’d never tried to leave.

“It wasn’t just that I was getting close to you! You were getting close to me too, and it freaked you out!”

“Nothing scares me!”

“Bullshit! I scare you! You’re just not willing to admit it! It’s easier for you to blame me and play the big shot! You felt something for me, and that something wasn’t going away, and it terrified you! Because opening yourself up to someone means opening yourself up to someone potentially leaving! Right? But you, being who you are, always walk around with a pack of matches in one hand and a container of gasoline in the other just so you can burn your side of the bridge before the other person has the chance to burn theirs!”

“God, Kagome, shut up! You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about!”

“Considering how upset you are, I think I’m pretty freaking close!”

“Why can’t you just let it go!?”

“I will when you own up! I’m right, aren’t I!? You’re the only one hurting you, Inuyasha!”

“If that’s the case, then why the fuck do you care so much!?”

“Why would you question that!?” Kagome flailed her arms, dumbstruck, her voice breaking from the unbridled emotion burning her throat. “If someone is willing to care, even after all of this, shouldn’t that be something you’re grateful for!? God, you think the entire world is out to get you, you’re willing to hand out blame like lottery tickets! Believe it or not, not everything will turn out as bad as you think it will! You just refuse to give anything or anyone a fucking chance! You’re so busy preventing anything from happening that you literally prevent anything from happening!”

They stood just inches apart, staring at each other with fury and outright condemnation. Their chests rose and fell heavily, hot breath filling the small space between them. His scowl uncreased, his features softening as it seemed he steadily regained control of himself. Inuyasha leaned closer, his eyes glossed over, causing Kagome’s breathing to sputter and hitch in her chest. His voice was low, gruff. Venomous.

“You’re a waste of time.”

Everything inside her went cold. She wasn’t angry anymore, a dull blade silencing her temper. It was like she suddenly felt unsteady, the sensation starting calm and growing to a wobble, making Kagome feel as if she were swaying no matter how still her feet actually were. The argument wasn’t the waste of time, it was her. She was the waste of time. And, he wanted her to taste the poison in his sentiment. The only thing he could have said that would have been more painful than this was that he hated her. She could only guess that was next on his tongue. Brown eyes drifted to his chest and the black shirt that covered it, down to his stomach that seemed to blur with the sting of tears she was trying to fight off, down to his dark jeans as her face contorted slightly before she resumed control, then to the tiny spaces of the cement that separated their shoes.

Mistake number three: hurting her so badly, he'd hurt himself.

He lost control. He lost sight of the purpose of everything. The words just came out of his mouth, he didn’t mean them. Everything he’d said to her up until this point was mean and distasteful, but this was unmatched. He crossed a line; immediately, he knew it. Kagome didn’t deserve this. She was good. Kagome was good. And, she was right about everything. Inuyasha could hear his blood pumping in his ears, feel his heart thumping aggressively. The quiver in her chin halted his breathing, and the salt he suddenly smelled tasted like his acrid punishment. Frozen, he just listened to her unsteady breathing as her composure visibly wavered, dragging him lower and lower. He shouldn’t have said it, but it was too late. There was nothing he could do now.

“Okay. I’m sorry.” Kagome whispered, her voice not cooperating. There was nothing in her that could convincer her to look directly at him. If she did, she’d fold. She began to back away, creating distance, her body shaky and light. The damage was done. She wished she'd never pushed him for answers. Sometimes it was better to be ignorant. It was hard to swallow that someone, Inuyasha, thought so little of her. All she wanted now was to go home. She just wanted to go home, get away from him, stay away from him for good.

| 1 | 2 | 3 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 |

#Inuyasha #kagome #kagome higurashi #miroku #sango #mirsan #inukag #inuyasha fanfiction #inuyasha fanfic #inuyasha fic #inukag fanfiction #inukag fanfic #inukag fic #high school au #coming of age #my writing #akitokihojo #delicate

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calitraditionalism · 4 years ago

Text

Arc Two: Chapter Nine

(AO3 counterpart here.)

As Littlepaw was having her history lesson, the edge of the stone settlement an hour away saw Darkpelt grooming herself in the sun.

It was a little useless, she was free to admit. No matter how much she cleaned her already spotless pelt, she always carried the dusty scent of the Versant family. She thought it was a nice smell – had a faint adventurousness to it that stirred curiosity in the heart – but it wasn’t helpful for her job. Having absolutely no scent at all was infinitely better; the difficult part was that the plants that could smother that smell generally did not smell themselves, meaning that even she had a hard time finding them. So she had to resort to continuous grooming and occasionally jumping into a nearby stream.

That all said, it was a good way to spend time while she considered her next move, so on she went, tongue rasping over her shoulder fur as she plotted.

The boys were a great deal more useful than she had expected, and together they had collected some useful information about Redheart and her goals… but it didn’t feel like it was enough. They knew she didn’t like StarClan and that she wanted to leave the Territory. That was good and all, but they didn’t have any thorough details on what her exact plans were and how long they had before they needed to intercept.

Besides, there was more to this situation than had been discovered – things that no one was aware of except Redheart. There wasn’t much basis or proof for that thought. There didn’t need to be. Darkpelt’s intuition had not led her wrong before.

What they really needed to do, she thought, was get more information on Greyleaf’s involvement. Even Mistface had barely had a chance to talk to him after all this time. Perhaps that was deliberate on his brother’s part. But, then again, Darkpelt was aware of how close the two had been all of their lives leading up to this point. It didn’t make much sense for Greyleaf to be actively avoiding Mistface. Perhaps he knew something too, and-

“Oh, there you are.”

Darkpelt paused, tongue sticking out, and looked around uselessly, as if she couldn’t smell and hear the cat to her right and a bit behind her. She made a show of sniffing the air, then rotated her position until she was facing the cat.

“Here I am,” she said, as friendly as was appropriate. “Can I help you?”

“You’re Darkpelt,” the cat said. “I heard about how you handled Starkfeather being a prick to Littlepaw.”

“Ohhh, that.” Darkpelt lifted a paw and waved it dismissively. “Yes, that was me. Is she doing alright?”

She kept her tone casual and her face smiley, but mentally she winced. Coming to the apprentice’s defense and catching the attention of an entire crowd had not been wise. She had risked blowing her cover in the long run – now everyone there knew that there was a blind cat around who was ready to talk smack to a seer, of all people. She was a thought, however small, in many minds. If she wanted to sneak around, she had to contest with that.

It had been fun, of course, but still.

“She actually left a while ago with some of your friends to visit the Vultures,” said this cat that Darkpelt now figured was Littlepaw’s friend, Flyfang. “So, yeah! She’s doing fine.” There was a sneaky amusement in the molly’s voice. “She told me you offered to teach her to swear.”

“Lies!” Darkpelt dropped her jaw and moved her paw to rest over her chest. “I would never teach a kid to swear. I just extended an invitation to help her learn to stand up for herself, that’s all.” She winked. “Of course, whatever she overhears me say when I’m not talking to her, that’s her business to take or dismiss.”

Flyfang laughed. “I can’t say I’d be any better about that. What she must have heard me say the entire time we’ve been here…”

She paused, and her fur shifted rapidly, like she had shaken herself. “Well, to my point – I just wanted to say ‘thank you’ for what you did.”

Darkpelt blinked, surprised.

“Littlepaw’s a good kid,” Flyfang went on. “She can be sensitive, though, especially on her own. If I’m not there to stand by her, she’s as meek as she was before we met. She’s great, but… she wouldn’t stand up for herself if she’d been alone.” Flyfang cleared her throat. “Yeah, basically, thank you. It meant a lot to her – your offer and you speaking up. So it means a lot to me, too.”

Darkpelt had no idea how to respond. She was generally considered unpleasant company; as a result, she did not recollect a time where someone was genuinely thankful and appreciative of her actions beyond her services in spy work. Usually she just antagonized others and laughed about it.

Well. First time for everything.

She felt her smile level out into something more real (and self-conscious) than her usual mocking grin. “She is a good kid. I haven’t talked with her much, of course, but I can hear her playing with those two other apprentices sometimes. I can’t imagine some punk thinking it would be a good idea to pick on her.” She fumbled a little in her mind, trying to think of what else to say, and she came up with, “I appreciate the thanks.”

Flyfang shifted, and in her own uncertainty Darkpelt couldn’t tell if she too was feeling awkward or not. “I was going to ask, actually – what are you doing here to begin with? You can’t really get into fights… well, not physical ones.”

“You underestimate my power,” Darkpelt said. Her grin returned. “Though I just came here to witness the chaos Redheart’s about to cause. It’s too good to miss out on.”

“It does get pretty chaotic here already.” Flyfang laughed again. “You’ve heard all the crazy things that happen. Fights, arguments, everything.”

Darkpelt waved her tail with a practiced merriment, seizing the opportunity to change the course of the conversation. “And from what I’ve heard myself, you’re the resident champion in those fights.”

She could feel Flyfang puffing out her chest. “I win a fight or two, sure.” There was a loaded pause, and then Flyfang continued, “Redheart told me I’m the perfect warrior to help protect whatever cats come with her.”

“Oh!” Darkpelt tilted her head, ears perked. “Then you’re leaving too?”

“I’m not sure yet.” Flyfang suddenly sounded quieter, and not because of some sweet gossip she wanted to share. “I have a couple cats I’d like to take with me, if I do. They’re not ready to go yet. Apprentices, you know.”

Darkpelt hummed sympathetically. “As far as I can tell with Redheart, I think she’d be willing to wait for them. She seems nice enough.” A thought came to her mind, and she took a gamble on it. “I’m surprised she doesn’t just become a leader and do whatever she wants once she’s there.”

“That’s true,” Flyfang said thoughtfully. “And she’d have nine lives to get it all done, right?”

“I don’t want nine lives.”

Darkpelt jumped and looked around wildly before settling on the source of Redheart’s voice. Somehow, they had let her sneak up on them.

“Why not?” Flyfang asked, completely oblivious to Darkpelt’s surprise, thank the stars.

Redheart didn’t answer immediately. When she did, her voice was low and dark. “I’m not interested in the price for them.”

“Alright, I guess.” Flyfang sounded a bit bemused. “You sure do like to talk cryptically.”

“Things will be cleared up once we’re out of the Territory,” Redheart said simply. Before Flyfang could respond, she turned to Darkpelt. “I just came by to make sure you two are doing alright. I heard about Starkfeather’s behavior, and the argument.”

Great. Now Redheart was properly aware of her.

Darkpelt just nodded. “I’m sure he’ll back off from here. I gave him quite the lashing!”

“So I was told.” Redheart sounded like she was hiding some amusement herself. “But you are well? Nothing to see a healer over, no problems in camp?”

“Nope,” said Flyfang. “We’re all good. Or I am, at least.”

“I’m fine too,” Darkpelt said pleasantly. “I appreciate you checking in, at least, ma’am.”

Redheart didn’t respond. Presumably, she had nodded. Darkpelt heard her take a breath, but that faint shaky voice of Greyleaf’s called for her, cutting her off.

Paws carried the speaker closer. “Sorry, we’ve just got an argument. Snowshine wants you to come help resolve it.”

“Speartalon again?” Redheart said.

“No, Vireoberry and Peregrinefang.” Greyleaf sighed. “They’re not happy with the newcomers, as usual.”

Redheart made a noise with a mood that Darkpelt couldn’t quite decipher. “Show me the way.” To Darkpelt and Flyfang, she added, “Let me know if anything troubles you two.”

“Will do."

“Yeah, same.”

With that, pawsteps, and they faded away. In the distance, Darkpelt could faintly hear angry voices.

“It’s really been getting more contentious around here since Redheart’s been gathering cats,” Flyfang remarked. “I mean, there’s always some conflict going on, but I’m sure it’s not usually this bad.”

“Has anyone been annoyed with you and Littlepaw?” Darkpelt asked, more for information than curiosity. This could be useful to establish a timeline, if she needed it.

“No, we got here just before the masses.” Flyfang sounded a little irritated herself. “I get where they’re coming from, at least. The whole purpose of this place is to be rough-and-tumble and get into fights. Half of the cats that arrived are totally disinterested. And honestly? Kind of punks about it.”

Darkpelt nodded, letting Flyfang continue. She started going on about some specific cats that had been poor guests in the settlement, but Darkpelt only half paid attention. The rest of her was focused on this note of conflict between the potential deserters and the natives.

The main thing that this implied was that Redheart didn’t have a lot of time before tensions rose too high and cats were forced to leave. If Darkpelt was right, then the natural conclusion was this:

She and the boys needed to gather more information fast. They had a brief period left to discover everything they could before Redheart walked away from the Territory. And they were missing something, Darkpelt could feel it.

What did that mean, she wondered, "the price”?

#warrior cats #steorra #arc two #chapter #chapter nine #darkpelt #redheart #flyfang #greyleaf

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zuffer-weird-girl · 5 years ago

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Hiiiii! Love the content on here. It’s one of my favorite BNHA blogs! If you have time, could you please write about Overhaul taking his SO on a date for the first time? Maybe Kai over does it and takes them to a really high end restaurant but his SO is barely middle class, under dresses, and very intimidated by how expensive and fancy everything is. Feeling like they don’t belong there.

You nervously patted your clothing just to prevent any possible dust to have sticked on it, Overhaul would probably be really angry if he found that, especially on something he gave it to you specific for this occasion...

It took you longer than expected to realize the young leader of the Shie Hassaikai had founf some interesting on you; actually it was rather understandable since he doesn't express anything with that face of nothing more than boreddom or irritation.

But in the other hand, bunch of people had noticed how the man looked at you with complete different eyes than normal... a certain admiration or even care expressed on the usual cold golden eyes of his.

Although... there was sometimes he was a bit... exaggerate on his way of expressing his "care".

But you couldn't help but slowly fall for this gorgeous man.

Now, you were here waiting for Overhaul to make his appearance, but when you saw him your jaw almost hitted the floor.

You knew that he wasn't a simple man at all, but you definitely didn't expect Overhaul to appear in a freaking expensive as hell black car, driven by someone else, getting out from the passenger seat.

We started well...

You already knew how he was gorgeous and magnificent but... holy shit.

Overhaul was wearing instead of his usual social black dress shirt for a white one with a black tie and to finish his open black tuxedo. His hair perfectly combed whith the usual black mask of his; it keeps away the filth don't judge him.

He was beautiful and all, but was he going to a weeding or some kind of social event instead of you guys date?

"I see that you followed my instructions." He aproached you, looking up and down at your figurine, surprisingly seeming pleased at your sign.

"Uh.. yeah. Although it isn't a bit too much for a date?" You asked with a nervous smile as he furrowed slightly his eyebrows.

"Nonsense. It's not only a perfect combination with your body and appearance in general but it's sociable acceptable. Not much, but not less either."

Was... was the first commentary a compliment?

You giggled at his actions in both disbelief and adoration at the man in front of you, while he only scoffed in irritation; hidding a certain warmth feeling in his chest and both of his cheeks at hearing that angelic laugh of yours.

"Are you going to just stand there and keeps laughing like a idiot? I will have you know I made reservations and I certainly despise being late for something." He said monotonously while walking towards the car.

"W-Wait what was that part again?" You stopped giggling at hearing that word, but your oh so sweet partner just ignored you as he oppened the door of the car.

"Come." A simple comand, but you noticed the hint of softness on his voice and couldn't help but smile.

A rather peculiar gentleman was he, but you definitely wasn't complaining the slightest.

As soon as you entered the car he close it and got on the other side pretty quickly and comanded the driver to take you two to where he planned.

You should have know...

A high class restaurant... indicated with five stars just recently.

You mentally facepalmed and instantly your cheeks went a crinson red color the moment Overhaul opened the damn car's door for you to step out.

Your chest tighten as you felt that the air in your lungs weren't suddenly sufficient at seing the huge amoint of high class people entering on that... luxurious place.

"I hope you don't bother these sick people around us. I tried to make it secluded only for us but sadly the man didn't take my offer... seriously." He mumbled while walking besides you, maintaining a certain comfortable distance.

"Wait. You can't do that with a restaurant!" You whisper yelled with wide open eyes as your mouth opened in surprise at seing the hints of a smirk behind that black mask of his even if his eyes stayed the same as always.

"Try to stop someone from the yakusa dearest. But I decided to simply let it slide... this time. I didn't want it to miss this opportunity to take you on this place."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, so he was that serious about this, was he..?

You gulped that anxiety and nervousness down your throat in hopes it could go away... it was just a restaurant right? Just a place, nothing to worry abo-

Holy shit, how big is that chandelier on the ceiling? And there was a bunch of people playing the violin and piano on the other side of the room...

Why...?

You felt all your previous feelings coming back again, almost suffocating you at the point it was harf even to breath.

"Are you alright? You seem a little out of breath there..." Your companiom asked numbly while you yelped quietly.

"J-Just-! A little surprised at this place... it's... only high standards come in here apparently." You nervously pointed out before deadpanning at seing a couple of bunch of snobs passing by you guys front with their noses lifted up.

... gross.

He seemed to take that as a compliment as he simply hummed in agreement as he took a look at his front, where a bunch of people were sitting and eating on their neatly clean tables.

"The first time I came in here I was also shocked."

"Really? When was that, if you mind me asking?" He thought deeply for a second before he snapped his gloved fingers at remembering.

"When I was about 9 or 10 year old." You deadpanned at that.

He visited his place when he was a CHILD?! Why was he in here in the first place?! It was YOUR FIRST TIME coming to a place like this and you were already a young adult!

"Here. The waiter will lead us to our specific place." You gulped again, feeling even more nervous when walking through the bunch of rich snobs, who seemed to look you down... like they already knew.

You didn't belong in here. What the hell were you doing in here in the first place?

You need to get out... as much as it angered that you couldn't do one sacrifice for him, you needed to get out of there...

Before you could even turn away the voice of Overhaul invaded your ears again.

"Here. Just passing through this window." You eyed suspiciously before sighing in defeat... following him to the balcony of that place.

You gasped in surprise at seing a perfectly tidy table for two with even a candle holder on the middle.

Rather impressive.

The waiter dismissed himself after receiving a death glare from Overhaul, soon after the man himself pushed a chair and extended his palm at it, only looking at you expectantly.

"What a true gentleman you are!" You giggled quietly before taking a seat and waiting for him to take his as well, not missing the hearted scoff of his.

"I thought chivalry was dead now in these days." He shrugged before leaning his back a bit forward with a disinterested look but his voice was just as soft and sweet as honey.

"Well. I not a bragging man, but I certainly can say that I'm full of surprises."

You giggled again, feeling it more at ease but soon frowning slightest at seing both the menu of that place and the people on inside, who you swear were stealing glances.

"... something is wrong." The voice of his interrupted your thought before you yelped and looked at him.

"What on earth is bothering you?" For the first time you saw his expression turning into one of worry even if his words sounded a bit harsh "Didn't you found this place appealing?"

"I-Is not that!" You waved your hands in front of your body in exasperation "Is j-just..." you sighed, embarrassed of even mentioning this.

"Just..?" He lifted one of his eyebrows up.

"...Overhaul. This place is amazing and I am very grateful and honored that you invited me for a date in here." You montioned with your hand at the glorious room inside before lowering your palm with a frow on your face. "But... I am not... used to this. I'm a middle class ro low after all, so when I saw all of this I kinda panicked... and this must sound ridiculous even, but I swear I saw people inside sending judgments glares at me... like they already know that I don't belong in here, which is honestly true." You sadly mumbled the last part, catching his firm and serious gaze on you shortly after your rambling.

"It is ridiculous." He sighed while you deadpanned.

Well... at least he was honest. A bit bold and rude, but honest.

"First, its the most logical that they were looking at a man wearing a black surgeon face nask rather than yourself; second, they should keep their eyes to themselves and mind their own bussines at the first place." He sighed while closing his eyes, slightly annoyed.

You blinked at hearing his words, that actually made sense...

"Like myself." He opened his beautiful golden eyes, staring directly at yours "I keep my eyes on what only interests me or what is mine."

You blushed crinson red at his words, Overhaul wasn't a man that was good with words, but sometimes he did caught you off of guard... majority of the times.

He chuckled lowly as he looked at the color of your face changing by some words of his... fascinated.

"That blush of yours never gets old." He mused "Next time, just warn me instead of just staying in silent. Next date of ours a more simple then? I don't like crowded places anyway." He monotonously spoked, shortly half smilling at your relieved expression.

"Sounds wonderful. Although let's enjoy ourselves, since you mister, went a bit too far with your money with me... again." He scoffed at your laughing before you brought your hand to cover your mouth.

"Oh gosh did you think that they hear?" You whisper to him worriedly, receiving a eyebrow of his lifted up as response.

"If they did or not, it doesn't matter. Just focus on me for the night, just like what I'm doing."

"... you're going to leave me a mess in this place I swear." You whined while giggling as you covered your face.

He smirked at that. This was going to be way better than expected.

Bonus:

"Score for the boss!" Mimic exclaimed on the top of Chrono's head as he adjusted his binoculars.

"Be more quiet before he senses that we're here!" Whisper yelled Hari as he tried to steal a glance at the far balcony, failing miserably due to the distance.

Suddenly Mimic yelped and Chrono from the scare accidentally let both fall on the ground.

"What the fuck Irinaka?!"

"He saw us. We're fucked."

The ground started to tremble and both man cursed already knowing what was coming.

#overhaul x reader #overhaul scenario #overhaul headcanons #fanfic overhaul #overhaul #chisaki kai imagine scenario #kai chisaki x reader #chisaki kai x reader #chisaki kai #kai chisaki #mha chisaki #bnha imagine #bnha characters #bnha villains #bnha #bnha x reader #my writing #zuffer writings

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rekutopia · 5 years ago

Text

In which for once, Shirayuki didn't regret going to the Wiesn

A part of the Flatmate AU (one, two, in accidental order)

The skies were grey, thick clouds hung low over the bustling area, threatening at any moment to send gallons of water pouring down the people milling around. Judging from their happy, smiling faces, they didn’t seem to care.

Shirayuki gazed around with disinterest. With the sun hiding, the usually garish colour of the stands and tents appeared dull, muted, sad. Even the merry bleeping and honking and ringing around her could not convince her that this was a place to have fun.

She sighed inwardly and pulled her thick woollen cardigan tighter around her body. When she went out of Yuzuri’s flat the sun was still shining. Now, merely twenty minutes later, the said sun was missing, the temperature had dropped and she was left shivering. Her mind drifted longingly to her Trachtenjacke. She wished she had worn it instead.

Regretting her poor clothing decision, Shirayuki hurried to keep up with her friend, who was making a beeline for ‘Schottenhamel’ – the liveliest tent within the Wiesn. Yuzuri had on a new Dirndl she had bought a couple of days ago. It was blood-red with black rose pattern – much too short for Shirayuki’s taste – which she combined with a black satin apron. Her chosen blouse was also black, short-sleeved and lacey, which she pulled down to show off her immaculate ivory shoulders.

No matter how often Shirayuki begged Yuzuri not to buy cheap, touristy – and not to mention slutty – Dirndl anymore, Yuzuri always waved off her protests with a laugh.

It may be fine for you to wear the same Dirndl every time, Yuki, but for me, it’s simply boring! And it’s not like I can afford to buy one so pretty like yours every year! So, let me have my fun, okay? Just pretend that I’m a tourist!

When they entered the tent Shirayuki wished she could just grab Yuzuri and drag her back outside, all the way to the subway station and back to her flat.

The tent was full to bursting. There was live music playing, and although people had not started jumping on the benches some drunken pairs were already dancing on every available free space. Even more people were standing about on the aisles, talking and drinking. The security was trying to shoo them, but mostly to no avail. Balancing giant trays of dishes and huge mugs of beverages, the waiters and waitresses manoeuvred carefully to and fro.

Shirayuki stood frozen at the entrance. Her head was starting to spin. “There’s no way we could find a seat here, Yuzuri! Let’s just go!” She had to shout so her friend could hear her over the blaring brass band.

“Don’t worry, Yuki! I have a plan! Just follow me!” Yuzuri shouted back. Then she grabbed Shirayuki’s wrist and the next thing she knew she was plunged into the madness. As she worked her way through the crowd, Shirayuki tried to make herself smaller and keep a safe distance from other visitors’ feet and elbows. She was focusing so hard not to get bruised that she almost ran into Yuzuri’s back when she stopped abruptly.

“Why, hello there, lads! I’m so sorry to bother you! But would you mind squeezing together for two small girls? We won’t take up much space!”

It’s amazing how Yuzuri could even shout flirtily.

Twirling the end of her braids and showing off her shoulder, she winked confidently at the three guys sitting at the edge of a table like she didn’t expect any answers other than yes. The guys were all wearing some sort of Lederhose (definitely not the real thing, Shirayuki noticed) paired with checked shirts.

At first, Shirayuki thought they were foreign tourists who didn’t understand them since they were all just staring at them with half-opened mouths, speechless. She was about to nudge Yuzuri and tell her to repeat her question in English when the dark-haired one shouted back with a large grin, “Sure ladies! I think we could arrange that!”

Turning to his company, the guy explained their request in English and the other two nodded and smiled at the girls. After a quick shuffle, all three guys managed to squeeze together on one side of the table and the girls could sit down opposite them.

It was only friendly to do some small talk with other people sharing your table at the Wiesn, even if they were complete strangers. Even if you don’t share the same language. Alcohol makes everything possible. And so they all chatted a little while Yuzuri and Shirayuki waited for their beverages.

Shirayuki played nervously with the hem of her apron. It’s been a while since she last had a conversation in English. The last time was probably at the university and that was like, five years ago. The guys were probably too drunk anyway to check on her grammar but Shirayuki didn’t want to risk saying something embarrassing, so she let Yuzuri do most of the talking.

Turned out their seat givers were all Americans. The dark-haired one now sitting in the middle has a Japanese mother, though. Figured. He had a typical handsome hafu face. As a matter of fact, all three guys were handsome in one way or another, but Shirayuki found herself helplessly drawn to the half-Japanese guy.

His eyes were astonishingly golden. Initially, Shirayuki thought the light was playing tricks on her but after glancing at him again and again and again she was pretty sure of their colour. She wondered whether it was caused by some kind of genetic mutation but she was smart enough not to let her curiosity out in the open.

Apparently, this guy was the local person and his friends were currently visiting him just for the beer festival. Shirayuki thought they must have loved beer that much. They said they each have had three Maß since lunchtime and they surely looked that way. Their local guide still seemed fairly sober, though. Unlike them, there was still no sign of redness on his face, no stuttering on his words. After 3 litres it’s quite impressive.

He was also rather quiet compared to his two friends, Shirayuki noticed. He simply listened attentively and nodded from time to time.

Maybe he’s The Silent Drunk type.

---

When their drinks arrived, at last Shirayuki had an excuse to rest her gaze somewhere other than on the golden eyes. She blushed when the guys teased her as they found out that it was not beer she was drinking but apple fizz. Yuzuri, the traitor, also sided with them.

“Oh, come on, Yuki! You’ve been miserable the whole day! The least you could do is drowning your sorrow in alcohol! Here, have a sip of mine!”

Shirayuki made a face at Yuzuri. She did not want to be reminded of her pitiful situation. “I don’t like beer! And it’s not like I could drink my problem away!” She took a sip out of her own giant mug. Then she sighed out loud and propped her chin on her palm.

The guy in the pink checked shirt seemed to notice the sudden change in Shirayuki’s mood and decided to butt in. “Hey, is everything alright with your friend?” he shouted at Yuzuri. She blinked a couple of times before realising that she and Shirayuki were no longer talking in English.

“Don’t worry, she’s fine,” she said, switching back to English. “It’s just that her landlord has kicked her out of her flat and now she’s homeless.”

Shirayuki glared daggers at Yuzuri. How embarrassing! She didn’t want them to think she had been spending her nights on the streets! She tried desperately to save her dignity. “No, no! I’m not homeless! I’m currently staying at her place!” she said, pointing at Yuzuri, who chortled.

“That is called homeless, girl! And don’t get me wrong, I love you and all your plants, but you’ll need to find a new place, soon.”

As usual, when they had this conversation, Shirayuki fell into her steaming discourse about how hard it was to find a flat in this city, how high the rental fees were and how although she had been trying, she didn’t think she could ever find another flat, let alone a decent one, which she could pay with her pathetic pharmacist’s salary, in the next ten years.

Unexpectedly, the guy in the pink shirt butted in again. “How about sharing a flat? Obi here has a room you could use,” he jerked his chin towards his friend.

“Yea,” the other guy in the blue shirt added, “you’ll have to wait until we’re gone but then our room could be yours, right, Obi?”

The mesmerising golden eyes fell on Shirayuki’s, accompanied by a lazy smile. “If that’s what the lady wishes.”

Shirayuki’s mouth fell open and she stared at him dumbly. This can’t be real. Beside her, she heard Yuzuri gasp loudly. Whether out of excitement or out of bafflement she couldn’t tell.

The guy – Obi? – seemed to notice her discomfort and added, “I apologise for my friends, Miss, they seem to take the matter rashly into their own hands. But actually, I do have a vacant room in my flat and I am currently looking for a flatmate. The room is also listed on the web, so if you’re searching for one, we would probably meet anyway, one way or another.”

Yuzuri turned to Shirayuki and grabbed her arm, shaking her. “This is even better, Yuki! We’ve been talking with him the whole time! So there’s no need to do the usual annoying flatmate interview, right?!” She turned and glared intimidatingly at Obi. “Right??”

Shirayuki mentally facepalmed. The emphasis was on “we”. Yuzuri had been talking with Obi the whole time. And to be more precise, it was less with him than with the other two guys. Obi and Shirayuki were more on the listening end here. “U-um, I-I–”

On the other side of the table, Obi chuckled and waved his hand appeasingly in front of his face. “If it would make you feel better we could still do the interview, Miss. But trust me, I don’t bite.” His lopsided smile was the complete opposite of his words. “And I’d very much like to get to know you better. We could also do a trial period if you want – if it doesn’t work between us, you could always go back to your friend’s place.”

Wording!

Yuzuri grinned and shook her head, “Oh, I’m sure you two will get along very well! You like plants, don’t you, Obi?”

Obi’s smile went wider. “I love them. I just somehow always end up killing them.”

“Perfect! I’ll help you pack as soon as we’re back, Yuki!”

Shirayuki wished the ground would open up and swallow her. This was not the progress of the day she had imagined. On the other hand, she had been living at Yuzuri’s place for two and a half weeks now and she was feeling guiltier every day. Maybe this guy’s offer was not so bad after all. She just wished he wouldn’t turn out to be a serial killer or a psychopath or both.

---

The tent was rather uncomfortably warm now. Shirayuki didn’t think even more people could fit in it, but somehow they did. Her cardigan was tucked in the joints under the table, abandoned, and she wished she had her short-sleeved blouse on. Today was a disastrous day when it comes to her fashion choice. Shirayuki tried to ignore the heat and drew her attention back to the conversation.

“By the way!” slurred Pink Shirt after gulping down the last drop of his fourth Maß. “You girls look like you could take great pictures!”

Blue Shirt slurred along with his friend. “Oh, yea! You-you must help us! Did you know that waitresses here took terrible, terrible pictures?! Here, look!” He shoved his iPhone into Yuzuri’s hand.

Shirayuki took a peek at the picture over Yuzuri’s shoulder. There were the guys cheering, bumping their 1-litre mugs together, their beer sloshing down to the table. You could see each of their grinning faces, still looking pretty much sober. Nothing was obscured, nothing abnormally cropped. She couldn’t see anything wrong with the picture.

“We don’t look sexy at all, right? Right?! Please, be honest with us!” shouted Blue Shirt. “And look at our Ooobi! Waaay too much at the back! The mug is bigger than his head! Not. Sexy. AT ALL!” he added, jabbing his forefinger with every word on the screen.

Yuzuri scrunched her nose. “Isn’t it just because of the perspective? I think you guys look perfectly–”

“NOOOO!!” Pink Shirt bumped his head on the table. “That picture is unacceptable! We need more SEXY!! Take another one for us, please?”

Blue Shirt clasped his hand together and batted his eyelashes at Yuzuri. “Pretty please?”

(Later that night at her place Yuzuri told Shirayuki that by then she was one hundred per cent sure their newfound friends were dead drunk and, to her utmost disappointment, gay. But she said it was good for Shirayuki because that means her future flatmate is gay. It’s a huge bummer – since he’s hot – but hey, at least it’s safe.)

For now, she just played along and told them to get ready for a shot.

“Sweet!” Pink Shirt clapped his hands gleefully. “Obi! Ooobi! Let’s do our usual pose!”

“Hmm?” Obi was distracted by his phone. When he looked up, Shirayuki took note of his slightly mussed hair and his sleepy, dazed look. His shirt was opened to the second button, revealing more of his tanned skin. Oh, my. When did that happen?

“Our usual pose, okay?” Blue Shirt slung an arm over Obi’s shoulder and gestured to Pink shirt to do the same. Obi was now trapped between his friends. To Yuzuri Blue Shirt said, “We do one-two-three, then snap, got it?”

Yuzuri nodded and readied the iPhone.

“One. Two. Three!”

With that, Blue Shirt and Pink Shirt kissed Obi’s cheeks. Obi himself pursed his lips and winked to the camera, hand raised in a peace sign.

It was the second time that Shirayuki’s jaw dropped open that evening. Yuzuri squealed and instantly took several shots of the pose.

“You guys are CRAZY!”

Pink Shirt grinned mischievously at her. “Wait! Wait! We need our Ultimate Pose! Ready guys?! One! Two!! Three!!!”

Instead of snapping Yuzuri almost dropped the phone and started to laugh hysterically. Shirayuki covered her mouth with both her hands.

Oh. My. God.

Blue Shirt was nuzzling his nose into Obi’s ear, his right hand underneath Obi’s chin. On the other side, Pink Shirt was taking Obi’s earlobe between his teeth, pulling it a little. And Obi. Obi was looking sensually at the camera, slowly licking his lips, a finger tugging on the V of his shirt, pulling it further down…

Shirayuki thought she might faint. She could feel all her blood rushing up to her face, now certainly as red as Yuzuri’s Dirndl.

Okay. Maybe he’s The Flirty Drunk type?!

When Yuzuri’s hysteria had at last ebbed away, she carefully wiped the tears from her eyes and announced that they were obligated to take a group picture next. The guys shouted their approval and struggled to get up, almost tumbling over each other. Shirayuki followed timidly, crossing her fingers that they wouldn’t ask her to do any of their famous poses.

---

[Obi, 00:34] back home safely miss? *grin emoji*

[Me, 00:34] Yeap, thank you for asking!

[Obi, 00:38] thank you for the lovely evening miss *smile emoji* [Obi, 00:38] also from my friends *beer emoji* [Obi, 00:39] they’d write to you personally but they’ve passed out *sleep emoji* [Obi, 00:39] give our best regards to yuzuri *wink emoji* [Obi, 00:39] sleep tight miss *kiss emoji*

[Me, 00:39] Good night, Obi!

[Obi, 01:52] note2self [Obi, 01:52] room [Obi, 01:52] interview [Obi, 01:52] trial

**********

Late September. It was that time of the year again. Shirayuki smiled fondly as she swiped on her phone, looking at the pictures from three years ago. They were hilarious.

There was one with all five of them together, in different states of drunkenness except for herself. Pink Shirt and Blue Shirt were leaning heavily on each other. Shirayuki felt sorry for them – she couldn’t remember their names even if she tried. Huddled together beside them were Obi, Yuzuri and herself. She remembered it was only when they managed to stand up did she realise how tall Obi actually was.

There was one with Obi and Yuzuri in their coincidentally matching red attire. Yuzuri wanted Obi to lift her in his arms but he politely declined, saying he was already too drunk and didn’t want to risk dropping her.

And then there was one with Obi and Shirayuki herself, standing side by side, his hand resting lightly on her hip. There were two shots of this, and in one of them for some reason, Obi was glancing down at her.

Shirayuki caressed the picture lovingly. In there, she was wearing the same outfit now hanging outside of her bedroom door, fresh from the dry cleaner’s. The moss-green Dirndl with its fuchsia apron had become her favourite, as well as her long-sleeved white blouse. Ever since that fateful day, she almost always wore that outfit when she went to the Wiesn and to other folk festivals, especially when she went together with Obi.

Obi, on the other hand, had finally owned an appropriate Tracht, thanks to Shirayuki. No more touristy red checked shirt. The Tracht was his birthday present last year. Though it had cost her a small fortune it was so worth it. Proper Lederhose, proper white shirt, proper velvet vest in moss-green. It’s not that Shirayuki wanted them to be matchy-matchy, but the colour just suited Obi best. Despite his exotic look, in Shirayuki’s opinion Obi could pull the outfit off very well. Even better than Zen, if she was completely honest.

Another swipe on her phone and her heart leapt into her throat. There was that picture again. The sexy picture. The Ultimate Pose. Blue Shirt was kind enough to share the pictures with the girls. Shirayuki couldn’t stop herself staring at Obi’s eyes, and lips, and tongue, and–

“Nee, nee, how do I look?”

Startled, Shirayuki hid her phone behind her back in reflex. “Oh, uh,” she looked up and down at her flatmate, who just burst into the room. “Is-is there anything different?”

Obi pouted. “Really? You don’t notice anything?” Shirayuki shook her head.

“Mina from the reception scolded me for my chapped lips and gave me her lip gloss.” Then Obi continued talking while pursing his lips. “Dun’t ui luk kissuble luik this? ”

Shirayuki gave him a flat look. “Have you seen yourself in the mirror?”

Obviously, this was not the reaction Obi was hoping for. His act dropped. “Uh, why?”

“Would you want to kiss yourself like that? You look like you’ve just had greasy fried chicken for lunch! That kind of thing only makes your lips even drier!”

Shirayuki got up from where she was perched on the sofa and stormed to her room, leaving her flatmate dumbfounded in the middle of the living room. A few seconds later she came back and without warning attacked Obi’s lips rather aggressively with a tissue. Then she thrust a small thing into his hand.

“Use this if your lips are chapped,” she grumbled.

Obi stared at the alien thing in his hand. It said it was an organic calendula lip balm. He blinked once, twice, “O...kay?” and started applying it onto his lips. Shirayuki folded her hands in front of her chest, pointedly not looking at him.

“Is this better?”

Shirayuki wanted to keep frowning but couldn’t help the little smile blooming on the corner of her mouth. Obi’s lips now looked soft, moist, and most positively, heartbreakingly kissable.

“Much better.”

——————–

Notes:

Alcohol does make everything possible, especially huge hangovers.

It’s a pain in the ass to find a flat in Munich, and interviews as well as trial period for shared apartment are not so uncommon.

Shirayuki’s Dirndl (but in moos-green + fuchsia apron + long-sleeved lacey white blouse).

Obi’s Trachten.

Yuzuri’s Dirndl (more or less).

Lederhose with checked shirt (It’s also an official Tracht, but what Obi and the gang wore just looked touristy).

Just give me a nudge if there are any German words that need to be translated.

#myfanfic #akagami no shirayukihime #obiyuki #flatmate au #this is the longest I've written so far #hope it makes sense #now you know what country they live in

18 notes · View notes

ericsonclan · 4 years ago

Text

First Encounter

Summary: Clementine is with her little brother A.J. at the Macy's Thanksgiving Parade when disaster strikes.

Word Count: 3042

Read on A03:

“Look, Clem! It’s Spongebob!” A.J. exclaimed from his place on his sister’s shoulders. He pointed up to the massive yellow balloon in the shape of the beloved sponge as it hovered through the street as part of the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day.

“That’s right,” Clementine smiled at her little brother’s excitement. It was a shame their dad hadn’t been able to make it, laid low by a cold the day before. Usually A.J. sat upon his shoulders and that gave him a much better view than Clementine’s diminutive 5’2” height could lend him. As Spongebob floated away and A.J. waved his goodbye, Tom Turkey, the giant animatronic bird, approached on his float, signaling they had almost reached the end of the parade. Clementine wondered what they should do for dinner. Maybe they could stop by someplace with soup so she could bring some home to-

Suddenly the Spongebob balloon exploded in flames. Screams erupted from both sides of the street as the crowd attempted to flee from the massive collapsing balloon. Before anyone could figure out what was going on, Tom Turkey exploded, sending pieces of shrapnel flying everywhere.

Immediately Clementine pulled A.J. down from her shoulders, turning her back to the wreckage and shielding him with her body. The crowd around them was surging away from the explosions, forcing the siblings to blindly follow the stampede to avoid being trampled underfoot.

“What’s happening, Clem?” A.J. shouted, clinging tightly to her shoulders.

“I don’t know, kiddo! But don’t worry, I’ll get us out of here alright!” Her eyes scanned the crowd, looking for some point of escape. Everything was chaos. Screaming and fire and flailing limbs… she just needed to get her and A.J. safely into a side street before they were crushed by flying debris or panicked civilians.

Suddenly the speakers that had previously been playing the soundtrack and announcements for the parade sputtered back to life. A menacing voice echoed across the frantic crowd. “Hello, New York. Congratulations on being the test site for my first major assault. I am Harbinger, and I am here to bring your doom,”

Of course the one time I’m out with A.J. on my own a lunatic takes over New York. Clementine’s heart raced as her feet pounded against the pavement.

“Clem, behind you!”

A.J.’s voice caused Clementine to look back over her shoulder. Her heart dropped.

A squadron of drones was heading directly toward them, shooting tear gas and bullets into the crowd. Clementine could hear bodies dropping around her. She couldn’t risk looking back again to see if people had been killed. She had to get A.J. out of here.

Before she could get any farther though, the largest explosion yet hit, knocking Clementine off her feet and throwing her hard against the pavement. It felt like only a few seconds before Clementine groggily pulled herself to her feet. Her ears were ringing from the strength of the explosion. A.J. wasn’t beside her. She had to find him. Clementine’s feet were shaking underneath her, but she kept going. Something wet trickled down her face. As it hit her tongue, she realized it was blood, probably her own. No time for that now. Where is A.J.? He needs to be OK. I won’t let anything happen-

That’s when she spotted him. A.J. was standing before a towering figure, placing himself in between them and an injured girl who lay behind him, bleeding from her side. The figure appeared to be a cyborg, massive sections of her body replaced with metal and hardware. Her left arm was no longer an arm but a massive gun, smoke still rising from its barrels from the barrage of bullets it had rained down upon civilians. She looked at A.J. with bored disinterest, her cybernetic eye analyzing and scanning him before abruptly shutting off. Without hesitation, the woman levelled her gun at A.J.

Clementine could hear herself screaming. She could feel herself running forward. But everything seemed to be moving slower. She wasn’t far off. She could make it. But how could she hope to stop this monster? Target any weaknesses,. That’s what Dad said each time he taught us self-defense. The entire right side of the woman was made out of metal. There was only one point Clementine could target. Kicking her leg out, Clementine smashed her foot directly into the woman’s right knee.

The knee gave out from under the woman. Her balance thrown off, the woman crumpled to the ground, her gun-arm rising into the air and peppering the sky with bullets instead. Clementine only had seconds of ecstatic relief before the counterattack came. The woman’s left hand flew out and struck Clementine hard across the face. Clementine collapsed to the ground, the air knocked out of her by the force of the assault. A hand suddenly gripped her throat, lifting her up high into the air.

“Only a fool would target me,” The woman glared menacingly at Clementine, her robotic arm holding her up with ease. She glanced down at A.J. who had begun to kick her left leg with everything he had, his tiny hands curled in fists of rage.

“Let my sister go, you monster!”

A cold smirk crossed the woman’s lips as she looked back on Clementine. “Ah, so it was for familial love then?”

Clementine met the woman’s gaze steadily, her eyes hardened and jaw set. She wouldn’t let her see how terrified she was. She needed to buy time for A.J. to escape, draw the attention off of him and back to her.

“A fiery one. I like that. A shame you have no power to stop me,” The cyborg’s hand tightened round Clementine’s throat, blocking her windpipe. “Now let’s see how long it takes you to beg for your life, you-”

Her words were suddenly cut short when a white, gummy substance suddenly splotched across her mouth, effectively silencing her. A second later another shot struck, covering her eyes. Dropping Clementine, the woman reached out to remove the obstructions only for more shots to bind her hands to her face.

“Have no fear, the cavalry’s arrived!” a voice crowed. A moment later a hooded figure stood before them, hands on his hips. He was dressed head to toe in an evergreen, chestnut and black bodysuit covered in spiderweb designs, his mouth and nose covered by a mask while his eyes were hidden behind a reflective black pair of shield sunglasses.

A hooded female figure landed beside him, her webbed bodysuit primarily white, blue and gray. Her face was completely hidden behind a mask of the same material. “Let’s kick this fucker’s ass,”

Their foe had successfully removed the white substance from her eyes and mouth. She gave the pair a cold sneer. “Recluse, Wolf. At last you’ve arrived to face me,”

The male figure cocked his head to the side. “Yeah, uh, and who are you exactly?”

“I am Harbinger and my presence spells your doom,”

He placed a hand to his chin. “I’d give that slogan a solid 8 out of 10. A bit cheesy, but you delivered it with feeling,”

“Less talking, more fighting, Wolf!” the female figure cried before shooting webbing directly into Harbinger’s gun barrel, clogging it completely.

“Now that’s some sharpshooting! Good one, Recluse!” Wolf shot out a long strand of webbing, coating the villain in more and more of the substance.

Before she could be contained though, Harbinger raised her arm and transformed it into something else entirely. The clogged barrels were replaced by a massive knife arm, the blade gleaming in the morning light. It cut through the webbing with ease.

“Huh, that was unexpected,” Wolf seemed unfazed though. Webbing a strand onto a nearby building, he gave himself a running start to swing back into the air, preparing his next attack. Recluse meanwhile was observing their surroundings, making sure all civilians were out of range.

Clementine searched for A.J. He wouldn’t have run off without her. When she spotted him, her heart twisted in fear. He was hiding in the corner of a nearby alleyway, one with a dead end with no means of escape. The entrance was also blocked off by the fight going on between Harbinger, Wolf and Recluse right this instant. Clementine couldn’t give up though. She’d have to circle the perimeter and find an opening to run to A.J. before he tried to make a break for it himself and got caught in the fighting.

The fight was only beginning though. The drones that had been dispersed throughout the square now came to converge upon the heroes. Their metal exoskeletons looked surprisingly spiderlike as they flew toward the pair. The closest one was making a beeline for Wolf when all of a sudden it was caught by a web strand and thrown against a wall, smashing lifeless to the ground.

“I’ll take care of the drones!” Recluse declared, running forward. Webbing herself onto one of them, she landed on top of the flying drone, using her position to web other drones’ engines causing them to crash to the ground.

Harbinger’s arm raised once more, transforming back into a gun and aiming at Recluse.

“Hey! Eyes on me!” Wolf called, leaping down toward their adversary. He webbed a nearby trash can, flinging it against the cyborg’s back.

This only seemed to annoy Harbinger. She turned, aiming her gun at Wolf instead.

By the time she shot though, Wolf was long gone from that point. He had webbed Harbinger’s legs, swinging himself between them and webbing her in the face once more. “Fool you twice, shame on you!”

Harbinger let out an angry cry, punching blindly below her.

Wolf rolled aside just in the nick of time, a crumbled piece of concrete where his head had just been. “Holy canoli! I could use some backup here, Recluse!”

“Don’t get your panties in a twist! I’ll get there!” Recluse smashed a fist through the drone she had been on before leaping over to the next one, continuing to destroy each landing pad she used until the final drones were destroyed. She descended to the ground in a graceful tumble. “Let’s wrap this up,”

Clementine had been watching the fight unfold with each step she took, keeping out of harm’s way while moving ever closer to her goal. She could see A.J. clearly now, his body crouched as tightly as possible against a dumpster. “A.J.!” she called in a raised whisper, trying to get his attention.

He looked at her with large eyes. “Clem? You didn’t run away?”

“I couldn’t leave you, kiddo. Now c’mon, we gotta get out of here!” Taking her brother’s hand, Clementine slowly inched her way along the wall, hoping they could slip past unnoticed. Harbinger’s attack and the drones had torn up the square. They’d have to traverse the scattered rubble carefully.

“I can’t believe we get to see Wolf and Recluse fight up close and in person!” A.J. exclaimed excitedly. Now that he was with his sister, his fear seemed to have largely dissipated.

“It’s not safe to be here, A.J. We need to focus,” Clementine directed, making sure he was listening. Her eyes returned to the fight, making sure they remained a safe distance away. She’d heard rumors of spiderheroes appearing in New York about a year ago, similar to other vigilantes that had popped up in Chicago, Atlanta and other major cities these past few years, but she’d never paid that news much mind, figuring she’d never crossed paths with them. Despite appreciating their help, a part of her wished she still hadn’t.

Recluse had entered hand to hand combat with Harbinger. The shorter spiderhero was fast and agile, avoiding most of Harbinger’s attacks while landing plenty of her own. Unfortunately, since so much of Harbinger’s form was composed of cyborg parts, any attacks that landed against metal made virtually no damage. Wolf was circling the outer perimeter of the pair’s fight, providing blocks and support wherever Recluse needed it. Clementine felt as though something else was up his sleeve though. He kept casting webs in seemingly pointless directions, but they must form some sort of pattern…

“Ready!” Wolf called.

Recluse immediately responded to the signal, shooting a web over to a nearby lamp post and flying out of Harbinger’s rage.

Harbinger looked around in a moment of confusion before suddenly a barrage of web attacks came at her from all angles. She was enveloped in a cocoon of webs instantly, utterly silenced.

“Gets ‘em every time,” Wolf declared happily, dusting his hands off.

Recluse quickly swung back to stand beside him. “Alright, let’s roll her over to the proper authorities, then-”

An explosion cut Recluse’s words short. Clementine pinned A.J. to the wall, shielding him once more as she squeezed her eyes shut.

Harbinger’s laugh echoed across the square, maniacal in its intensity. “Fools! You think such a simple trap would hold me back from my goals?” The smell of burnt flesh hovered in the air. Clementine realized in horror what the cyborg had done: she’d set off a bomb to free herself from the confines of the web, not caring what damage was done to her remaining flesh.

A sudden clatter drew everyone’s attention. It had come from Clementine and A.J.’s direction. Distracted by the explosion, A.J. had knocked over a large chunk of concrete, sending it tumbling down the pile of rubble they’d been skirting.

“Shit, there are still civilians here?” Wolf shared a look with Recluse.

Immediately Recluse shot out a massive web, pinning Harbinger to the ground. Wolf shot a spider strand to the wall beside Clementine and A.J., landing beside them in seconds. “Hello, ma’am and hey, little dude,” He offered a quick wave down at A.J.’s level. “It would be my pleasure to escort you both to safety. Shall we?”

“Look out!” Recluse’s warning came only a split second before Harbinger’s attack. Transforming her arm yet again, she now had a pointed drill in its place. It shot through the air, extending her limb farther than any of her other forms had, straight for the three of them.

Standing in front of Clementine and A.J., Wolf spun his arms round and round each other, threads coalescing and hardening around his hands into a shinier white material than any of his previous attacks. As the drill drew near, he crossed his arms in an x before him, effectively blocking the attack as it bounced off the dense webbing. However, the redirection wasn’t quite enough. Clementine saw the tip of the weapon graze the side of Wolf’s face and heard something shatter. Immediately the drill withdrew, striking Recluse on the side of the head and knocking her over before transforming into a blade once more and cutting Harbinger free.

She immediately rose to her feet, a twisted smile on her face. “You haven’t seen the last of me, Wolf and Recluse. You or any of your kind!” A single drone flew out, hovering above Harbinger. She clung to it as it rose directly into the air, higher and higher until she had disappeared amongst the clouds.

“Well, points are due for the grand exit, I suppose,” Wolf turned round to check on Clementine and A.J. “Sorry I wasn’t able to get you two out of here before that last attack. Are you OK?”

“Are you OK?” Clementine asked. Part of the lenses of his sunglasses had broken and she could see a brown eye peeking out from behind it. A slow trickle of blood was oozing from near his temple.

“What? Oh, this? Tis only a flesh wound, milady,” Wolf dramatically bowed before his eye widened in surprise. “Holy shit, did she get your arm?”

Clementine glanced down, knowing what he had seen. She quickly covered her forearm, looking away. “No, that’s… nothing. A dog bit me a long time ago. This is just an old scar,”

“Oh. Phew! Glad to see you two came out of this with only some scrapes and bruises then,” Wolf knelt down to A.J’s level, looking him in the eye. “Remember little man, always get somewhere safe if you’re in an emergency. You gotta protect your sister too, OK?”

A.J. nodded, a determined sparkle in his eye. “OK,”

Recluse landed beside them. “Well, there’s only so high New York’s buildings go. Harbinger may be in the stratosphere by now. Still, we should sweep the perimeter and-” She paused, noticing Wolf’s injury. “Fuck, did you break another pair? We have to find something better for eyegear,”

“Swear,” A.J. said calmly.

Recluse looked at him in confusion before the realization hit her. She turned to Clem. “Shit, I’m sorry about that. No, that’s a swear too. Umm…”

“It’s fine,” Clementine waved her hand dismissively. “Thank you so much for saving us. We might not have made it without you two,”

“Just doing our job,” Recluse mumbled, scratching the back of her head. “Anyways, we gotta go. C’mon, Wolf,”

“A pleasure meeting you,” Wolf said, offering Clementine a casual two fingered salute before soaring off into the sky with Recluse, the two of them swinging from building to building in search of their foe.

“That. Was. Awesome!!!” A.J. bounced around in excitement, doing a little happy dance. “I can’t wait to tell everyone in school I got to meet Wolf and Recluse in person!”

Man, kids bounce back from trauma fast. Clementine still felt a bit shaky on her feet herself. “Let’s get home, kiddo,” She reached in her pocket for her phone, immediately dialing her father’s number. He must be freaking out if he’d seen any live coverage of the attack. “Dad? Yeah, we’re OK. Me and A.J. both. We’re on our way home now. I’ll tell you more then, my battery’s almost dead. Love you,” Taking A.J.’s hand once more, Clementine made her way out of the square. Hopefully the metro was still open. What a crazy day. She was glad it was over. She never wanted to deal with something like that again.

#twdg #fanfic #spiderverse au #twdg clementine #twdg louis #twdg violet #twdg lilly #twdg aj

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shuuen-no-cimory · 4 years ago

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Good Morning, Suou (An Ayakashi Gohan Fanfic)

Genre: Fluff, Romance, Oneshot

Rated: T+

This is a fanfic sets after Suou’s Good Ending in Ayakashi Gohan ~Okawari~. While there is no explicit NSFW, there are some implicit mention of it. Ah this is also my first completed fanfic in english, so I hope the wording isn’t too awkward. Anyway, happy reading!

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

Today is unusually bright.

I can feel light basking onto my face as my eyes flutter open. Ah, what day it is? What time it is? What... is this warm feeling against me?

I focused my eyes and tried to scan my surrounding. Huh, this doesn’t seems like my room, not the one on my flats nor Pompokorin. These aging walls, these tweets of birds and wind rustle, these... scent of someone dear.

As I shifted under the blanket, an arm pulled me into embrace. A face snugs up my chest as the owner grumble, 'more... salmon... please'. His white hair tickled my cheek but it doesn't feels annoying. Instead, it gave me a warm comfort. I feel like I have to wake up but the embrace and that voice lulls me to slumber. Ah, it's the voice that I love, the one who whisper my name under his breathe last night---

Reds creeps up my embarrassed face as the memory resurface. It contrast to his peaceful, pale looks. Yesterday I came back to Momiji Village as I graduated from collage. He was the first person to picked me up on the station. Then we spent our first meeting pleasantly after we had been separated from quite some time, cooking and eating together. When I about to left him, he sulked and asked me to stay with him. And then we-

Ah, geez, this is not the time to think about that! Think... Think about something else-

Oh, that’s right. Today is my first day of work as the village officer. Sure I can’s snuggle up like this all the time or I’ll be late on my first day.

I gently called out to him as I run my finger up his head, "Suoh... Hey, wake up." Low murmur hums on my bare chest, "Mmmm.... Fuuuuu, ahhhh." His hand around me loosen up as he scratch his yes and looks up, his crimson eyes meets my chestnut. "Rin, is it morning already?" "Mhmm, good morning." I cup his cheeks, “Sorry but is it okay if I go now? I have to visit Pompokorin first before I go to the office." He pouts in protest as he snugs closer onto me, "Just a little bit more." "But I-" My words has been cut as he locked my lips softly with a kiss. When he release it, he smiles, "now it's okay. I already get my morning kiss."

H-how sly of him...

After both of us dressed up, we walk side by side while enjoying the fresh breeze of village early morning. The spring wind feels gentle on my skin, way different with the city’s murky and heavy air. In our way, we passed many familiar faces, both human and ayakashis alike. We exchange greetings and occasionally giggled at by them who remarks how lovey-dovey we already are early in the morning. It’s a little embarrassing, to be honest. However, it’s feels up my chest with so much happiness. This place is so much warm, even with less people around it doesn’t feels lonely at all. Ah, how grateful I am to be here again, I wonder how exciting every day life will be. Without noticing it at all, I’. already beaming with smile.

"Looks like you have so much fun, smiling that much in the morning already, " Suou who hold my hand glanced at me for a moment. But as he look the other way, I can see his lips curved a bit, “Not that I dislike it, though.”

Really, this dishonest Suou.

"How about Suou?"

"Ah, yeah," he wave at another passerby, an old man from his workplace. "I think it's pretty noisy because you are here, which honestly..."

He release our hand. It was cold for a moment but as soon I felt that, his finger intertwine with mine, "Make it not really a bad morning."

Time flies and without us noticing,Pompokorin’s building is already in sight. In front of the store, Gin who is busy preparing for the day welcomed us. As I apologize for not telling him that I was staying at Suou’s place for he night, he was quiet for a moment before a cheeky smile spreads on his face.

“Mmmmm, mmmm, I see it now.” He nods in amusement with face of a proud father, “Ah, Rin-chan is really an adult now, isn’t she?”

“Eh?”

What’s with that? D-do I have something in my face? I mean, I haven't been able to wash myself since Suou's home didn't have much water for bathing or showering but I was sure to at least wash myself. When I’m about to ask him what’s wrong, Gin only laughed, “Ah, it’s nothing, it’s nothing you have to worry. Although... Please don’t be too hasty, both of you.”

He looked preety serious before he leave us be. What does that mean? We look at each other but Suou only shrugged, he doesn’t seem that bothered by Gin’s word after all.

Oh, well, I can’t be bothered by it now. As soon I enter the shop, I quickly retrieve my blouse and suit from my room and then go to the bathroom. A quick shower is all I need right now.

After a refreshing shower, now all I have to do is doing my hair and make up. Pick up my neatly folded blouse and suit, I approach the sink. There, the mirror is foggy from the hot shower’s steam so I decided to wipe it with my hand. In the mirror I can see my damp hair and my skin.

Wait, these thing in my neck---

Ah.

Ahhhhhhhh,

AHHHH, T-THIS IS BAD!

Quickly I touched my flushed neck and nape. There is some red spots in it! I-I forgot he did this a lot last night. What should I do? N-no wonder Gin looked weird this morning, was it because of these?! Ughhhhh, now this is just make it more embarrassing!

Alright, I can’t panic now. There’s no way I can wear my blouse today as well because it’ll show my neck clearly. I must pick up a new clothes right now, something that can cover me up. And it’s... ah it’s all in my room right now.

There’s no other way, I have to go to my room to change. Okay, I’ll dress up in my blouse now, quickly goes into my room and change. It’ll be easy so let’s step out now...

"Yo, Rin, morniiiin,"

... Oh no.

As I just about to make my way up, a sleepy Uta descend and now blocked the only way up. "Oh it's U-uta! Morning."

This is bad, I stutter so much. He stops right in front of me, smirked.

"Didn't see you coming today, last night you aren't here too." He giggled as he amusingly stroke his chin. “Hmmmmm could it beeeee....?”

My face burns out as Uta teased me. Ugh, of course he’ll know so there’s no need to tease me so much. i was so prepared for another teases but I was instead greeted with Uta’s cold and worried face.

"Wait a second," he hurriedly get closer to me. With a serious expression, he stares at me intently before rage seethes on his eyes as his gaze lands on my neck.

"Did he do this to you?" his eyes pierced mine. Uta’s arm suddenly secure my upper arm, makes me jolt groggily. I want to answer him but before i can answer, he gripped my arm in mix of fear and anger. "Tell me the truth, did he? Did he hurt you again, Rin?" That eyes... Ah I get it now. Even after four years, Uta hasn't changed. I think he's still wary of Suou after all these year. It can’t be helped after all, he is my guardian. More than that, he is also a family. But I don;t want him to misunderstand it so I try my best to answer it.

While desperately try to hide the red spots with my hand, I smile awkwardly "N-no, Uta, you got it wrong-" I tries to pull myself away from him, "I just get bitten by bugs. Yes, b-bugs!"

He get hold of my wrists, "No, really this looks more like a cat--"

"So noisy..." Our exchange was cut off by another person. Uta’s hold loosen a bit as we both look at the source of that voice. From the third floor, there is Yomi who already sharp dressed with scarf on his hand. With a sigh, he scoffs, "I haven't get out for errands yet and it's already so noisy."

"Here, Yomi, look at Rin!" Uta release me and pulled his twin brother to us, who happen to looks truly as displeased as I am. His face was about to spit something like, 'what did this girl do again, huh?'. He is disinterested, yet hearing Uta’s urgent tone on his voice Yomi decide to go along. As Uta point my neck at him...

He was quiet for a moment, but he loudly chocked with a face turns bright red. I know he want to say something but he was too perplexed. It’s not only you who feel bad in this situation, Yomi!

Finally able to collect his composure, he ask Uta first, "You, tell me what's wrong. Or at least, what do YOU think is wrong."

"So you know Rin hasn't been home last night, right?" Uta crossed his arm, trying to stay calm even if I can tell he is pissed. "I'm sure she was with Suou last night. And look, she came back with some scars on her neck!" He clenches his palm and grits his teeth, "It must be Suou doing! He hurt her again!” rolls his sleeves, he walks away while stomping, losing all his chill. “I swear I'm gonna punch him and--- GHOOOEEEKKK." THUD! Yomi's shin powerfully delved into Uta's side. His face is flushed badly from embarrassment. I-I'm embarrassed too, you know!

"Oi, Yomi, what's that for?!"

Yomi frustratingly knead his forehead, "It is because you are utterly stupid." Uta tries to retort while he hold his stomach, "What?! I'm being serious! I told you he is- OW OW OW."

Seriously frustrated, Yomi desperately tries to shut Uta by giving him yet another shin-to-the-side. It did shut Uta from talking about Suou and instead grunts at Yomi’s sudden attack. However, Yomi doesn’t seems to mid it much as he lends me the scarf on his hand. He give it while trying to look the other way bashfully. "Use this to cover your neck," his ear looks deep red despite his cool demeanor, "at least this can help you a bit." "Are you not done yet, Rin?"

In such moment, the person in question enter the Living Room, impatiently calls out to me. As Suou looks at Yomi's hand on top of mine with scarf in between, I can feel he get discouraged by such sight.

"Hey, gloomy dog, what's up with that?"

”Oh this is just--” before Yomi can answer him, Uta already jump out and about to lash out at Suou.

”YOU SHITTY CAT---!”

“Huh?” Suou instantly shield himself in surprise as Uta approach him.

I desperately tug Uta’s shirt to make him stop, "Uta, I told you it's not---"

"You did that, right?!" Uta stand between us and pointed at my neck, "You hurt her, didn’t you?!" Suou, as if dawned by realization, has his eyes downcast, "Did... Rin told you thath?” He apologetically approach me, “So when you said it hurts, you really were hurt? I told you right to say it so I wouldn’t make you in pain..."

Uta, who shields me won’t let him get any closer. Frustratingly, I pounce his back "N-no! That's not the case...! Ah, Utaaaaaa!"

"Next time I will make sure not to overdo it, okay?" he said, but then with a quiet voice Suou murmur under his breathe, "Ah, but your neck is just too tempting to kiss. Geez, but this is for her sake."

“Eh, huh?” Uta blinked, dumbfounded, “A kiss? What the hell do you mean-”

I can't take this anymore.

I bet my face are already charred right now as i tried to cover my neck and embarrassment. It is beyond burned from all this misunderstood. Yomi already has his face completely covered by his hands and scarf, he can't hold himself as well. Suou grow pale, panicked.

And Uta,

Uta was silent for a moment with jaw hanging. Then, as if he finally pieced everything together,

"K-KISS?? THAT KIND OF KISS?" he screamed on top of his lungs. He was too perplexed that all he says was some gibberish, "THE HELL IS WRONG WITH BOTH OF YOU!?"

Yomi curses as he was readying another jab into Uta, “That’s why I told you, you are truly a braindead.”

Uta, now completely red from the realization, runs away to bathroom, says that he need to cool down his head. Ah... this is truly a disaster. I feel like I want to bury myself from all of this commotion.

When everything already calmed down, Yomi excused himself and apologize for Uta's behavior. It can't be helped after all, and I get why would he did that despite how awkward and embarrassing it turned the whole morning.

Left alone only with Suou, we only awkwardly stand in silence. I told him I’m going to change my outfit with something else to cover my neck. He answer by nood in silence. So as my initial plan, I went into my room and change into a turtleneck and suit.

Even when we walk out to each other workplace, the air was still pretty awkward, I want to break it by talking but I can’t think of anything, I want to tell him that it was all Uta’s misunderstanding, I didn’t told Uta that he hurts me. Yet somehow, it’s a little hard to convey those. And once again, we walk in silence and only talk once we split up. Ah... I just hope I can clear up all that misunderstanding.

At night, Gin decided to hold a party to celebrate my return and also to congratulate my first job. It was a fun party, I manage to meet all my friends from years ago. Manatsu-san as usually playing with Tsuzuri while told me how’s Momiji village while I was gone. Uta and Yomi banters Haginosuke, who just about to claim the position as head priest for Momiji Shrine. Even god was there, sharing sakes with Gin and some other Ayakashis. While me and Suou...

Well, we only sit by each other, still a bit awkward but we melts up a little. We chatted a bit but somehow I can sense that he feels troubled. Is he still minding what happen this morning? Uhh...

Later at that party, I sneaks out with Suou to the porch. The night air is chill and we can hear the party quietly from behind us. We're sitting 5 centimeter apart as we watch the glittery spring sky. We still sit in silence but I know, we have to talk it out.

Yet before I can talk, my right hand was held by his left. Meekly, Suou calls out to me, "Uh, Rin..."

"About this morning, I truly am sorry." he stares at his feet as he said that. "I... just remember one of the old men told me that kind of thing is not something you can tell to people. And- and-" He stutters, holding my hand firmer, “What Uta said... Did I really hurt you last night?”

I released his grip, which make him a bit self-conscious. Then, I cupped his face with my hand just like this morning, "Hey, Suou,"

“You don’t have to worry, okay?”

He was about to protest but I continue, "You know, I was really embarrassed that you said something like that and Uta heard it too."

I pouted at him. When he sees that, he looked like he want to shrink further. So then I smile at him, "But really, it’s just Uta being Uta. He can be a bit overprotective, remember? And it makes him jump into conclusion too quick...”

"Well, he is a noisy dog after all?”

I laughed at his remark, “right?”

Even if I laugh, his eyes still dimmed with fear and sadness. “To be honest though, it did hurts a bit, I’m not used to it after all.”

“But even so, it doesn’t hurt that much when I can wake up beside you in the morning.”

"Rin..."

We locked our gaze, his apologetic expression melts away and blooms into a gentle one; one that is full of love and warmth. He touches my hand on his cheek and seeps the warmth of my hand.

“So please don’t worry about it, ok?” I caress his cheek, I don’t like it when he is worried, it pains me. But even so, I can feel his overflowing love and cares from him with such act. “And I... also love that this morning, Suou become the first person I tell ‘good morning’ to. ” "I love it as well," he touched my cheek in return and softly bumped our forehead, "it makes me want you to always be the first person I see in the morning. To be the one I can say 'good night' to and 'good morning' to every single day." "Mm,” I nooded, “I want you to be the one as well."

"Rin," Our lips meet briefly, left us with a tender feelings. "I love you." "I love you too, Suou." We held each other that night under the star as we share another kiss. -----------------------------------------------------------------

Not only this is my first english fanfic this is also kind of my first romance fanfic ahaha. I hope you all enojoy this piece! I just love this fandom and Suou so much I feel like I had to make this. It’s 2 AM here and I pretty proud of this. Anyway, see you!

#Ayakashi Gohan #Ayakashi Gohan ~Okawari~#Hana Suou #Akane Rin #Suou x Rin #あやかしごはん #あやかしごはん～おかわりっ！～#花蘇芳 #朱音凛

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prurientpuddlejumper · 5 years ago

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A Deep and Rapid River, Ch. 5 [18+]

<-Chapter 4 | Chapter 6 ->

Summary: Things get smutty up in the hayloft.

You are quaking with anticipation to check on your guest after a long day away from him. After Bess turns back down the road and disappears, you head straight toward the hayloft—but your mother is waiting on the front porch, and the twilight is not yet dark enough to conceal you from her watchful eyes.

“You should have asked Ferdinand to stay for dinner,” she suggests. “Go run after him!”

“It was Bess who walked me home,” you correct. “Ferdinand will no longer be courting me.”

Hearing this, your mother exclaims in surprise, making an incredible fuss, until her shrill cries summon your father—a gruff, ever-disappointed grey-haired man. In this case, his sour nature works to your favor. He silences your mother with cruel disinterest in your love life, and insists that you will not join them for dinner, as punishment for falling behind on your chores. You’ll have to pack your meal in a napkin and bring it out to the barn so you may eat as you work.

They can’t figure out why you’re so cheerful.

****

“It’s me,” you call out, climbing up the rickety wooden ladder. The animals cluck, bray, and moo for your attention, but you hear an ominous nothing from the loft. That he had been discovered was your greatest fear, but surely you would have heard some commotion about town if that were the case. Still, you find new reasons to fret—is he passed out in pain? Did he believe himself abandoned and flee? What if the entire encounter was some kind of delusion brought on by head trauma after all?

Peeking over the wooden loft floor, you are relieved to find him dozing, leaning back against the stacked bales of hay, surrounded by barn cats. The felines are curled up next to him, in his lap, and climbing his broad shoulders, competing over his attention. He looks up as he hears you enter.

“I've made friends!” he beams, delicately scritching behind a tabby’s ears as it purrs. “These delightful little creatures make the most wonderful noise!” A tortoiseshell perches on his shoulder, rubbing her head against his withered cheek.

All the tension and worry you had been holding since you first returned home vanishes, and your face erupts into a broad grin. “It’s called purring,” you explain, crawling over to join the very image of an Egyptian pharaoh revived in his tomb. You displace one of the cats from the coveted spot by his side, and he gives an annoyed mew. “I’m relieved to find you well, and in good company. How did you fare?”

“Long was each minute I awaited your sweet return.” He strokes your cheek, eager to touch you again. You melt into the rough palm, closing your eyes. “Your absence pained me, but I was graced by mercy and fell unconscious for most of it. I slept I know not how long. When I awoke, this gentle creature,” he pets the tortoiseshell cat, “sensing my plight, came to tend to me. Soon she introduced a friend, and before long I was surrounded by purring companions. They are not the most conversational company, but they seem unaware of my deformity.”

“They’re usually more cautious around strangers, too,” you add. “Cats always see right to the heart of things. They can sense you are trustworthy.”

“They greatly eased my loneliness. Even without them, this beautiful place is too lovely to accommodate misery such as I have endured before now. Through this window, I can watch the wind ripple through the fields of hay like waves on a lake, I can hear the river, whence we met, rushing through the woods, and admire the white-crowned peaks in the distance. Light streams airily in through the boards, driving away all dark thoughts and fears I may entertain, as if I am among the heavens! And now that you are here with me, I feel as Adam in the Garden:

Nor gentle purpose, nor endearing smiles Wanted, nor youthful dalliance as beseems Fair couple, linkt in happie nuptial League, Alone as they

“Though my creator I yet do not extoll, so many sensations of pleasure, so many benevolent emotions flood me, I am at last at peace.”

You can only stare at him in admiring stupor. He thinks your crummy barn is Eden—worthy of reciting Milton. The smallest things bring him such joy, you can’t help but be drawn to him and his youthful innocence. And he sees you as Eve. Are you any more worthy of such esteem as the barn? He has no concept that you're poor, or that he should want for anything greater. What will happen when his naivete is replaced by worldly understanding—when a barn is just a barn, and he learns that you are nearly as much an outcast as he is?

Shoving those fears aside, you sling your pack off your shoulder, and remove the bundle of food. The cats sniff the air and jump down to investigate as you spread open the napkin. “I brought some bread and cheese for dinner, along with roast parsnips. Would you care to share it with me?”

“Oh, my beloved angel,” he sighs. “Baked bread! It has been long since I have dined on such rich fare. Are you certain you have enough to spare?”

“Of course!” You rip through the golden, crackling exterior and hand him half.

His eyes glisten at the sight of food, but he is barely able to take a bite before his countenance crumbles into despair, and he begins to weep. “I have never been treated so lavishly. This is too much. I... I don't know how to ever... repay…”

You put down your food so you can climb into his lap and snake your arms as far around him as they’ll reach. When you’re on top of him like this, you can almost reach his face, and with his head bowed low, you’re able to put your lips close to his ear and whisper, “It's alright.”

He wraps you up possessively in his arms, like a child clinging to a stuffed toy for comfort, curling his chin over your head, completely enveloping you. “Mine…” he murmurs into your hair, so softly you barely hear it. Tears drop onto your shoulders. “Everything is so wonderful, I fear I will awaken to find this was a dream, and I am still alone and miserable. Please, stay mine. I don't want to wake up... I don't want you to go away…”

As he speaks, you can feel the deep vibrations of his voice through his ribcage, and the convulsing of his lungs with each soft sob.

“It's alright,” you repeat soothingly.

He sniffs and clears his throat. “Yes, of course.” He releases his python grip on you, and wipes his eyes with the palm of his hand. “You must tire of me falling apart so readily.” His black lips try in vain to form a smile. “But how can I ever show sufficient gratitude for one of such noble grace as yourself to take pity on so low a beast as I? I have nothing to offer except my sincerest love and adoration.”

You place your hand over his, interlacing your fingers with his long, slender ones. “Your healthy recovery will be thanks enough. And… your love.” Your cheeks flame hotter, and you both quickly look away from each other. One of the cats is nibbling on a wedge of cheese. You shoo them away, thankful for the distraction.

****

After making quick work of dinner, you leave him to recover while you do your chores, bringing all the animals into the barn to be fed, milked, and settled in for the night. A mop of dark hair hangs down from the loft where the creature watches you intently.

You smile up at him, and he scrambles back behind the horizon of the floor, hiding. A moment later he returns to view, blushing sheepishly. He’s not used to being seen when he observes people.

He seems fascinated by the animals and their care, though he lets you go about your work without interruption. Once every hen and cow is nestled away in its proper place, their straw bedding refreshed, and their water buckets filled, you climb back up to the creature. His eyes brighten, but he stops himself before moving toward you. You can read the timid tension all over his face: he wants to scoop you into his arms, but he isn’t sure if he ought to—if it would be welcome. You curl up in his lap, giving a contented grunt of exhaustion, and pull his hands over you, as if to say, “yes, touch me.”

He runs his hands through your hair lovingly, picking out stray bits of straw. Then his hands explore. His rough fingertips brush the warmth of your neck, where your pulse beats against them. They delicately trace your collar bone until hitting the collar of your dress, then follow the edge of fabric down the low neck line. Light goosebumps raise along your flesh, and your breath comes out a shiver. His other hand begins caressing you all over. His hand slides down your back, lower and lower, over the curve of your rump. You gasp as his fingers reach between your legs, pressing the fabric of your dress tight against your cunt, and you jerk in surprise.

He quickly removes the offending hand and stammers an apology.

“It's alright, I just wasn’t expecting it.” You were ready to fall asleep in his lap, but now you are wide awake.

“Am I too bold? My heart burns to touch you, to consume you like a fire... But if it is contrary to your desire or will, then I shall be sated, and put away all prurient thoughts. Please, instruct me how I may behave to best please you."

You bite your lower lip. “I think.... you should unrestrain yourself and do as your heart burns to.” Your heart races with excitement, wondering what his uninhibited passions will incur. “If I want you to stop, I'll give you a signal, OK?"”

He shudders, giving a polite nod as he strains to maintain an air of gentility, before surrendering entirely to baser impulses.

He hungrily slides his hand back between your legs while the other caresses your jaw. A finger slips between your lips. You run your tongue over the callused pad of his fingertip, tasting the salt and hay. A moan escapes his lips and his other hand grows bolder in response, running down the inside of your leg until it reaches the hem of your dress at your ankle, then drawing up again, bringing your skirts up with it.

He spreads your legs apart, and begins playing with your heat through your thin undergarments. His breath grows excited and ragged as he watches you writhe beneath his fingers.

“Is, is this still OK?” He gaps between breaths.

“Shut up,” you moan, pulling his face down and silencing his worries with a hard kiss, whimpering against his lips as your hips thrust against his fingers. He stares with fascination as you react to each touch.

“I want to please you,” he pants, black lips close against your ear. There’s a hungry fire in his voice, raspy and low, “the way you used your mouth on me before. What if I used my mouth to in the same way for you—would that give you pleasure?”

No one had ever offered to do that before, but his fingers felt so good, the thought of what his tongue might feel like in the same place sent waves of hot electricity down your spine. “T-that sounds nice,” you nod.

The moment you finish your reply, he snatches you up into his arms like you weigh nothing. Your undergarments are torn off in a flash, strewn carelessly on the floor. He sits you on top of some hay bales and kneels between your legs, spreading them. He isn’t sure what to do exactly, but he’s enthusiastic to try. He kisses the inside of your thigh, sucking until the skin turns red. His tongue extends. He licks tenderly at your entrance, making your fingers curl around a handfuls of hay. Encouraged by your breathy gasps of approval, he deepens the licks, sliding his long tongue into your opening, stretching you open, filling you. It’s big. Of course it is; he’s huge, and all his parts are proportional—it’s as large as a normal man’s cock, and more flexible, hitting new and sensitive places as it writhes inside you. He grabs your hips, bringing you up and down, impaling you on his tongue, fucking you with it. You are so wet, and not all of it from his saliva. What he’s doing has you dripping.

“You taste incredible,” he murmurs between thrusts, lapping up your juices.

Then he starts teasing and sucking on the tender flesh between your legs. His mouth discovers a bud of flesh above your entrance, and instantly you throw your head back and cry out, your back arching into him, your senses exploding with pleasure you’ve never felt before. “There,” you whimper. “Right there.”

Obediently, he darts his tongue over it, flicking quickly and lightly, until you're begging for more.

“Is this alright?” He pauses to ask.

“Don't stop!” you practically snap.

You cling to the back of his head, pulling him back to your clit, holding him where you want him. Enclosing his mouth around the sensitive spot, he sucks at it, hard, drawing it into his mouth, licking at the same time, and you cry out so loudly you fear someone may hear. You clap a hand over your mouth, keeping the other clenched in his inky hair, biting your palm to quell the screams that want to erupt from your throat. He sucks harder, responding to your body, your hips convulsing into his mouth.

You keep him on your clit, intoxicated by the working of his dark, thin lips and tongue, feeling the heat inside you building toward climax, but the vacancy now throbs to be filled. He slips a finger inside. You release a deep, melting moan, bucking your hips to take more of him. “More,” you beg. He moves the finger in and out, in and out, coming out wetter each time, while his mouth works at your clit. “More. More. More. More!” You realize you’ve been repeating it, begging and whimpering, like a mantra. Both sensations at once overwhelm your senses, driving you precipitously toward the edge until you break, hard, coming into his mouth, digging your nails into the back of his head, clenching and spasming around his soaking wet finger, as ripples of heat flush throughout your body. You don't let go of him until the last spasm is through, and you fall back, body shivering and panting, onto the hay.

****

His body curls protectively around you as you lay together in the barn. He strokes your hair so gently, so lovingly, it’s easy to forget his size, his strength. It’s impossible to imagine him capable of hurting anyone. Hard to imagine why anyone would ever be afraid of him.

You feel so comfortable and safe alone with him. You wish the world were safe. You wish you could introduce him to the world. But the villagers thought you were strange already, and if you showed up with a “monster” at your side...

You find yourself staring at him. How could anyone see a monster? He's not so horrible. Not at all. You reach out and touch his face, running your thumb idly along a scar on his forehead. It's one of the seams where Victor Frankenstein sutured together skin that he stretched over a work of musculature and ligament, which in turn was built on a scaffold of stolen bones. This fact was both easy to forget, lost in your feelings for him, and the most defining aspect of who he is: the source of all his misery.

"You are thinking about how he did it?" He interrupts your thoughts, noticing your faraway look and the way your fingertips linger on the imperfections of his skin.

“I—um…” you blush.

His watery eyes dart away, and his arms, which had been curled around you, curl around himself instead. “W… what were you thinking?”

“Nothing! Nothing bad.”

For some reason that seemed to sting more than reassure him. “Ah. Of course. You behold nothing poor in this wretched form,” he says bitterly.

“You must know that’s true, after what we just did. You must know it doesn’t bother me.” You stroke his arm, avoiding the bandaged shoulder. “It’s a lot to think about, that’s all. Before you showed me those papers, I thought you had been in an accident, or born with a defect… some extraordinary, but natural explanation. It’s fascinating. You really are something special.”

His face scrunches up, alternating between anger and sorrow, as if a war is being fought inside him. Finally he takes in a deep breath, and lets it out slowly, quieting whatever battle he was in. “I used to think… if just one person cared for me, it would change everything. I could be happy. But it still hurts. I continue revolving like Copernicus’s heavenly spheres, with agonizing periodicity. Despite your apparent love for me, your every effort to console me, I fear you. I find it impossible to sustain the belief that you… that you could desire my proximity, tolerate the profanity of my touch… But you reassure me again, and in your closeness my desire for you overpowers me. I become inflamed by passion, insensible of any defect. Who I am is perfect, in those moments. Then it becomes too much, and I remember what a vile, miserable thing I am. I become angry. Suspicious. Vengeful. The most hideous parts of my soul reveal themselves, until I can take no more, and collapse under a sorry so heavy I can never escape from it. And then you reassure me again. When will I cease this miserable orbit round and round?”

You cuddle closer to him, intertwining your legs with and his, sitting halfway up on your elbow to look him in the eyes. “You're new to all this. It’s not unusual for someone in your situation to feel unsteady.”

“How many people in my situation have you met?” He raises an eyebrow with a soft, breathy laugh.

“Ok, fair. I'm just saying, I understand. It takes time to adjust.” You smile. For everything he said about feeling trapped in a cycle, he just managed to stay calm and laugh at you when a minute ago he seemed about to fall apart again.

“Are all humans as wise as you?”

“Well, I read a lot of books,” you laugh. “Trust me, you're not nearly as crazy as Hamlet”

You stay in his arms, quietly talking, nearly napping, until the moon is high, and it has been too long to excuse your absence from the house on chores. You force yourself to rise, willing your limbs to part with him, against their every instinct to remain. His hand stubbornly remains locked with yours.

“Must you go? You cannot sleep beside me again?”

“I must. If I stray from my routine, it will draw suspicion, and if you are found here with me, I don’t know what will happen. I won’t put you in danger.”

Streams of silvery moonlight cast a single square window of light on the black floor and pierce the aged siding of the barn in narrow slashes, giving a haunting funereal air to his cadaverous features and the sorrow in his slumped shoulders. An animal yowls in the distance. He breathes in a deep and ragged breath, that rattles on the way out. “I know.”

He lets your hand slip through his.

“I don’t want to go, either.” You leap into his arms, wrapping your legs around his hips, and kiss him again. “My quarters are right there” You point out the window once he sets you down, indicating the room. “It looks out toward the barn, so you can signal me if you need anything. Let me know right away if you’re hungry, or thirsty, or if your wound feels hot or starts seeping, or if you feel anxious at all, or if—”

He squeezes your shoulders to stop you. “I will be alright. I have lived on my own with far fewer comforts around me.” He plants a soft kiss on your forehead. “My only distress shall be the sharp pining for your presence at my side.”

“Alright. Good night, my dearest daemon.”

Your bed never felt empty before. Tonight, it is unbearable.

#Happy friday have some smut #oh dip it's midnight #frankenstein #monster x reader #the creature x reader #My writing #smut #lemon #citrus

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zenithlux · 5 years ago

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Cadence Update - CH 10

In which Vergil learns a little bit more. But it’s all business. Of course.

Catch up on the story here!

Welcome back to Cadence ya’ll! I know I’m posting this a day early, but I have a project I have to finish up tonight and tomorrow, so I figured, why not let everyone enjoy this on a (possibly gloomy) Monday?

See you on Friday!

Another twist of the knife, turn of the screws It’s all in your mind and it’s fighting you Arm yourself a storm is coming. Well, kid, what are you gonna do now? It’s your reflection looking back to pull you down

Phoenix - Chrissy Costanza

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

The first thing Vergil did was drag five half-dead demons to Roxy’s doorstep.

He’d waited an hour, of course. Long enough to make sure she was actually asleep and not starting to freeze again. Not that he would have known what to do in that situation, but he figured it was the thought that counted. At some point, Aki’s head had popped up, his eyes had narrowed, and he chirped rather loudly. Vergil had translated that as “what are you waiting around here for? Go do something”. In Griffon’s voice, of course. The two sounded nothing alike, but he knew he would never quite escape his old familiars.

Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately given the amount of time he had), that process had taken much longer than Vergil cared to admit. He wasn’t used to leaving enemies alive, much less in a semi-functioning state. But, after a few extra fights, he finally figured out what parts of each demon’s bodies he could cut without them evaporating. He wasn’t certain if it was quite enough. But he also wasn’t too keen on letting Diadona take more blood than she already had. At the very least, Vergil assumed this was a better option than dragging Roxy out hunting in what he assumed would still be a weakened state, no matter how long she slept.

But, for the briefest of moments, Vergil was annoyed when he found her still asleep after the hour and a half he had spent outdoors. This information of hers seemed far too important to delay any longer. But then he remembered that she had waited two weeks for him to even call her- twice- and quickly let that train of thought go.

So, after securing the demons elsewhere to avoid any prying eyes, Vergil took stock of her groceries and was rather impressed at the state of her kitchen. There was plenty of food, both fresh and frozen, with meats split into Ziploc bags and multiple containers of frozen fruits marked as ‘for smoothies’ in faded black marker. Everything else was all well organized, as it only took opening a few cupboards to find every pot, pan, cooking device, and utensil she had. At first, he wondered why a woman living on her own had so many supplies. But then he’d also have to wonder why Dante had so few things considering how many people visited, and that was not a rabbit hole worth traveling down. Instead, Vergil found what he needed for dinner (along with the very convenient recipe book on the table opened to the exact page for “hearty chicken soup”) and left the chicken to defrost. No use rushing things, as he assumed she’d be out for at least another few hours. Worst case, he’d scouted the town out while searching for the demons (it wasn’t much more impressive than Haven, if a little bit on the wealthier side) and knew where to find food if needed.

Then, he wandered around her house. She had, after all, encouraged him to do so before falling asleep. And if he couldn’t find any answers on her current predicament, at least he might be able to deduce a few things about her.

Professionally. Of course.

Why would he be searching otherwise?

Foolishness.

The generous living room led to a hallway with a modest-sized bathroom (Dante would be jealous of that Jacuzzi tub… so Vergil decided he’d never get to see it) and a small closet. At the far end were two doors, one slightly ajar, and the other shut tight. He peered cautiously into the first to find what he assumed was her bedroom. The wood floors matched the living room, but the walls were a few shades brighter with more artwork. On one side was a queen-sized bed with a blue comforter with what looked like painted flowers of all colors. The wall to the right of it had a nice sized, curved window with a comfortable place to sit and a pair of books in the middle.

The other wall, however, was what caught Vergil’s attention; multiple, beautiful shelves filled to the brim with books of all shapes and sizes. Except she had clearly taken great care when organizing them, as similar sizes and colors were all paired together in one of the most aesthetically pleasing bookcases Vergil had ever seen. The only one out of place was a single shelf filled with textbooks, but even those were organized by size, including the ones piled on their side.

“Is the Son of Sparda snooping already?”

Vergil twitched, annoyed that he’d been surprised by the dragon’s voice at all. But when he turned to question how such a large dragon fit in such a tiny hallway, his eyes fell on something much, much smaller. Kuro was a shrunken version of himself, but still three times bigger than Aki. His scales were smoother. His horns were much shorter, and his tail flicked across the floor in what Vergil assumed was amusement. An adolescent form, maybe, but Vergil could still feel centuries of demonic power radiating from the dragon. Regardless, Vergil’s eyes narrowed. “Your mistress gave me permission, in case you weren’t aware.”

Kuro cackled with laughter; a low, rumbling sound that vibrated in the floorboards. “We are companions, though I understand if that is something beyond your mortal comprehension.”

“Is that why you’re freezing her to death?”

The dragon’s tail flicked to the side, but Vergil didn’t see any shift in his expression. “I am keeping her alive,” Kuro said. “This is an unfortunate consequence.”

“She is awake, then?”

Kuro snorted. “Not for another few hours.”

“Then how are you…?”

“My full power is limited by my summoner,” Kuro said. “But I am more than capable of sustaining such an inconsequential form.” His head tilted. “I am surprised you do not know more about familiars.”

Vergil’s eyes narrowed. A part of him wondered if Kuro knew about V, but he refused to ask. “What are you getting at?”

“I had assumed someone with such demonic power would be more interested in such things.”

Vergil released a slow breath, disguising it with a small grunt of annoyance. “I know of such things,” he said as dismissively as possible. “But have never met someone with such… capabilities.” That wasn’t technically a lie, as he did not consider his own experience as “meeting” anyone. Kuro looked moderately unimpressed, but Vergil couldn’t tell if he was disappointed or didn’t actually believe him. “I intend on speaking to her as soon as she awakens.”

“Indeed,” the dragon said. A moment of awkward silence followed as the two stared at each other; Vergil with a slight scowl, and Kuro with a constant flick of his tail and snake-like tongue. Finally, the dragon huffed and said, “If you wish to know more about her, I suggest you check the room behind you.”

Then, the dragon simply walked away, head held high, not even sparing Vergil a second glance. And for the briefest of moments, Vergil simply stood there, unused to such creatures - or anyone really - acting so blatantly disinterested. Sure, the demon probably thought that Vergil should show him more respect, but he didn’t say it. Vergil didn’t know what he would do if such a thing was demanded of him. ‘Laugh and walk away’ seemed like the most likely possibility, but showing deference to anyone else wasn’t something he’d ever do.

At least… not willingly.

Vergil shifted his attention elsewhere before his thoughts drifted too far in that direction.

The second door was unassuming, but his mind raced with the possibilities. ‘Know more about her’ would imply something like scrapbooks, pictures, or maybe some kind of memorabilia. But, even from what little he knew about her, Vergil didn’t think she was that kind of person. She didn’t like talking about her family except for her father, so Vergil assumed she wasn’t too keen on reliving whatever those memories were. He could just peruse her bookshelf, as an individual's taste in literature usually told him more than enough. But he couldn’t deny his curiosity. There was something there. He just wished he knew her well enough to…

Oh.

Instead of kicking himself at the obvious oversight, Vergil opened the door. And even with his expectations - whatever those were - he stopped in the doorway, stunned. The room was a lot bigger than he expected; a repurposed master bedroom, possibly combined with another, unknown room. One wall was nothing by a set of windows with two blue curtains pulled to the side. Next to that was a large desk with an advanced computer system of some sort, two screens, a tablet, and multiple sketchbooks. Under that was a single, empty canvas, and he assumed that’s where the rest of the ones he brought would eventually go. The wall above that was filled with various sketches and reference pictures of dozens of different things. There were few finished paintings propped up beside it - intricate flowers, a painting of a cottage and garden, and a sweeping, rainforest landscape. There was the start of another painting on an easel in the center of the room; a sketch of a ladybug on a leaf-covered in rain droplets.

Then his eyes drifted to the far wall where Kuro himself had been painted in exquisite detail. His scales actually shimmered, and Vergil couldn’t figure out how she’d accomplished that. There were small bits of glimmer… but nothing crazy.

“Interesting,” he muttered despite himself. Her attention to detail was impressive, and he wondered if there was more to it than a few reference photos. But why Kuro? Surely this big of a piece would draw plenty of attention. Visitors would ask questions… wouldn’t they?

Unless she doesn’t have many.

As silence descended over the apartment - and Vergil was certain Roxy was still fast asleep - he decided to ponder his thoughts over some books.

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

It was midnight when Roxy’s eyes finally opened, and 12:30 when she could actually speak to him. It had been oddly unsettling at first, as she’d stared past him, eyes glossed over, seemingly unaware of his existence. Once he’d gotten over that, he’d gone back to his book - the same one Roxy had been reading before their meeting - and waited for her. Kuro was dozing on the couch beside her, and Aki was still on her lap, so Vergil assumed everything was fine.

It was her gasp that caught him completely off guard. Even he was confused when he found himself by her side, hand almost-not-quite resting on her shoulder. Kuro’s head lifted, and Vergil swore he heard a quiet snort before the dragon rested it back on her lap. “Breathe,” Kuro said. “You are safe here.”

Vergil pulled himself away, settling back in his chair as if he hadn’t moved at all. And, considering how her eyes were now closed as she ran her fingers along Kuro’s scales, Vergil assumed she hadn’t noticed him. When Roxy finally met his gaze, she looked oddly sheepish. “I’m good now,” She said. Then, her nose wrinkled as her eyes flickered to the doorway. “Are there… demons here?”

“Yes.”

“...Why?”

Kuro scoffed. “Your makeshift caretaker brought them for you this morning.”

“I’m not…” Vergil trailed off, huffed, and changed the subject. “The soup is done as well, just as Diadona requested.”

Roxy stared at him, lips parted just slightly before she shook her head in what he interpreted as bewilderment. “You didn’t have to do all that,” She said, her cheeks flushing a very light pink. Vergil watched her, both curious and entirely uncertain why she was reacting that way. “But… thank you.”

With a curt nod, Vergil said, “Absorb what essence you can. Then we’ll talk.”

Roxy returned his blunt demand with a nod of her own. “Can you handle that, Kuro?” She said, glancing at the dragon. “Aki can go too. Let me know if we need more.” Aki chirped in excitement and glided to the doorway. But when Vergil expected the little creature to crash straight into it, he vanished. Perplexed, Vergil glanced back at Roxy just in time to see her cheeks flush a much darker red as Kuro said something in his demon tongue. “Shut up,” Roxy muttered. The dragon’s tongue flicked in amusement before he disappeared. “Dragons these days,” She muttered, implying that she knew more than one.

Vergil didn’t let himself fall down that rabbit hole either. “What happened?” Vergil asked. “And why?”

“Dia calls it stasis,” Roxy said. “It’s a side effect of my pact with Kuro.” Her eyes fell, and Vergil didn’t like the way his heart jolted at the immense sadness in them. “It wasn’t supposed to happen that fast though.”

“What do you mean?”

She sighed. “I”m usually paralyzed for a day at least. Usually more. I called you as soon as that kicked in, thinking I had more time.” She shook her head. “Doesn’t matter now, I suppose.”

Vergil made a note to chastise her for it later. “Kuro?”

“He’s a blessing, really. But the human body can only handle so much, especially when a chunk of his energy is spent healing me.”

“Healing you?”

She nodded. “I’m technically a paraplegic” her hand drifted toward her back as she spoke, but she pulled it away with a surprising amount of force. “I was in an accident about a decade ago that severed the spinal cord in my lumbar. Dad said I was lucky, as I probably should have died. And it punctured low enough that my art career wasn’t ruined. But…” She trailed off, followed by a sigh. “I stayed with Dia for awhile, but it was hard for her to manage her other patients and me... “ She shook her head, took a deep breath, and met his eyes again. “That part isn’t important.”

Vergil had a feeling it was, but he was also painfully aware that he was the last person who should ever call out such a thing. “Then what?”

“Dia introduced me to Kuro, and he took an interest in me,” Roxy said. “I still don’t really know why. An arch-demon willing to pact with a paralyzed nobody? I really didn’t believe it until it happened. And, sometimes, I still can’t believe it. Even now.” She chuckled, but it was strained. “He tells me I’m overthinking it and he’s probably right.” She shrugged. “Long story short, he is able to use his magic to passively heal my spine, but the wound itself will never truly be fixed.”

“So if your pact was broken…”

“I would lose all control of my legs again,” She said. “And I wouldn’t freeze anymore, I suppose.” Her head tilted just slightly. “I don’t mind, though. What’s a few days of discomfort in exchange for a second chance?” She stared at her hand, fingers twitching. “It’s always a little scary though, no matter how many times it happens. Just that thought…” She trailed off.

“What thought?”

She was silent for a painfully long time. But Vergil was patient. He of all people understood how difficult it was to share such personal information. Except he, unlike Roxy, had yet to figure out just who to share that information with. A part of him felt honored, but the rest of him wondered if he deserved such trust from someone who didn’t know everything he’d done.

But…

“Sometimes,” Roxy said. “I wonder what would happen if I froze… and never woke up.”

Alarm swept through him. “You’re…” He didn’t want to say it, even though he knew exactly what he was thinking.

“Suicidal?” She said. “No.” She pulled her knees to her chest, but kept her eyes on him. “Afraid, yeah. But not that. Not anymore. Don’t worry about that.” Her small, nervous smile once again caught him off guard. The sadness had not yet left her eyes, but she still tried to encourage him. How? How much pain was she hiding behind such a brave facade?

Helping one person did not feel like much in the grand scheme of things. Really, it wasn’t. But all Vergil could think of were Dante’s words of encouragement. Words that Vergil believed wouldn’t matter with the overwhelming weight of his failures.

If you never take a step, then how do you expect to get anywhere?

“I’ll help you,” Vergil said before he had a chance to think about it. But even after he paused to let his mind catch up to his declaration, he knew it was the right thing to do. After all, how often did someone like him have a chance - and the ability - to fix something so… personal? He could never atone for all of his mistakes. His own son had made that quite clear. But he could do something… he could be there for her.

“Are you certain?” Roxy said softly. “Not that I…” She hesitated. “Not that I don’t appreciate the offer. But...”

“But?”

After another long moment, she sighed. “I was hoping we would get more time as friends before… all of this.” She rubbed her arm absentmindedly. Vergil saw a flicker of pain in her expression before she buried it away; a feeling he knew all too well.

“It was bound to happen eventually,” He said as he set his book aside and made his way to the kitchen. “Rest for now. Regain your strength, and we’ll discuss it more later.”

And for the first time in months, Vergil was certain this was what he was meant to do.

#zenni-writes #cadence #update #vergil #dante #nero #vergilxoc #vergilxroxy #kuro #aki #demon #summoner lore

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ajoy3fanfics · 5 years ago

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Missing pt.VII

Also found on FF.NET

Hope everyone enjoys the chapter!

~.~

There wasn’t many things Inuyasha was sure of anymore, but there were a few key things he would stake his life on; First, he had screwed up, in some majorly colossal way, and now he and Kagome were not together anymore. Second, he was lucky as hell to have the employees he did in his company, who kept it up and running when he was in the hospital; Third, and most importantly (he couldn’t stress this enough)- he was going to murder Miroku.

No, it hadn’t always been that way. Before the capricious man used to hold the title as his best friend! He hadn’t always wanted to strangle the life out of him and watch as the smirk faded away from his lips; but as Miroku sat by his side at the table, a smug look of satisfaction on his face as he nudged him playfully with his shoulder, Inuyasha was sure that by the night was over, he was going to kill him.

“See?” He whispered, low enough so that only the hanyou could hear, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I told you didn’t I? Yukka is great!” He raised his brows suggestively, indicating that he was referring to more than her personality. “This is exactly what you need.”

Miroku had set him up on a damn blind date. The bastard had to die.

Funny, he always assumed his best friend would have been done in by an angry ex-lover; angry ex-best friend had to hold some merit, right?

It had been a month since he had left the hospital and came home to Miroku’s one bed, one bath apartment. It was cramped, sure, and not ideal to be spending his lonesome nights on the leather couch instead of snuggled behind Kagome, the sweet smell of her soft scent lulling him to sleep. It wasn’t perfect, but it was bearable. He was happy to be with a friend than utterly alone going through this alone.

Small mercies, right?

Living with together with Miroku was nostalgic; They settled into a routine fairly quickly, already knowing each other’s likes and dislikes, not having changed much since their roommate days in college. Inuyasha was still sensitive to noises early in the morning and Miroku still hated it when Inuyasha left a dirty dish in the sink. Spending time apart and growing up had made the transition a much easier one than when they were still in their teens. A little care and consideration, and a lot of maturity made the whole thing a lot easier; except for the no Kagome thing. That was rather annoying.

Once the initial shock of Kagome dating had worn off it was replace with anger, so strong it was borderline blinding. When he stood up, ready to beat his competition bloody, Miroku had talked him down. Why not wait? He had asked. Inuyasha had difficulty controlling himself when he barked out his response. She was dating! There was already too much time wasted! Any second he spent talking it over with him was another second she was in the arms of someone else.

Had she kissed him? Have they fucked? Did she love this guy? Did she love him?Dangerous questions raced through his mind making him dizzy. He had to sit down on the bed, head in hands while he breathed deeply.

Miroku patted his shoulder sympathetically. “Why not wait until your memory returns? Then you can go forward with all the facts. If you go now, in this state, you could say or do something to make things worse and she might never forgive you. Just wait, my friend.”

Is what the bastard said.

But what he meant was “it’s time to get over her.”

That was never more clear than it was now, with a leggy brunet sitting across from him, biting her lip as she shyly stole a glance at him. His ear twitched as he picked up her hushed whisper “He’s really cute.” To the friend at her side.

It was obvious that Miroku had very little faith in his ability to get Kagome back, and this was probably an act of kindness in his fucked up mind. Who the hell sets an engaged man up on a blind date?

Sort of engaged, that is. Miroku never failed to remind him of that

Kagome talk was strictly off limits.

Miroku had insisted that it wasn’t fair, and down right creepy to stalk her. Inuyasha, on the other hand, disagreed. What was wrong with keeping tabs on her? She was always so clumsy, constantly tripping into things. And so bad with directions! What if she got lost and needed him? Apparently, he was “obsessive” and maybe that’s why “she left his crazy ass.”

Miroku had gotten a black eye from that one. He wasn’t even that upset; he knew it was crossing the line, and it made him look ‘tough’.

Or that’s what he told him when Yuri walked over to them, wearing a slim, low cut black dress that left little to the imagination. On her arm was a stunning woman, the type that could have stepped out of a magazine. She was tall and sexy, with long brown hair that fell around her shoulders in soft waves. When the pair sat down at the table, Yuri leaning over to give Miroku a kiss on the cheek and then introduce Yukka, Inuyasha felt his world turn red. His traitorous ex best friend was going to pay.When he had figured out what was going on, albeit a little too slowly, he immediately stood up, ready to walk away. Miroku tugged on his wrist, doing his best to pull the hanyou down toward his seat. “You owe me.” He said under hushed breath, loud enough so that only he could hear. “No.” His stern voice left no room for argument, but Miroku was relentless. “Yes.Give it a shot and I wont bug you about it again. If you leave so will my date. You oweme, man.” He stood up to greet the guests, introducing the two women; Inuyasha gave little more than a grunt of acknowledgement as they sat down.

His plan was to get the night over with as fast as possible. Then he could go back to discussing his Kagome related theories out loud and Miroku wouldn’t be able to say a damn thing.

“It’s so awesome you own your own business.” Yukka said after taking a sip of her drink. “My father used to run a convince store. My brother took it over after he retired. It’s so much work when you’re the boss. I basically spent my childhood stocking shelves.” She laughed at her memory and Inuyasha smiled, trying to be polite. He could relate to that; he had worked at his father’s company from infancy, his mother answering the phones while he napped in the play pen. Clients used to remark how family oriented the business was, and it would keep their business.

But he told her none of that, of course. That was information he didn’t need to share, not with Yukka anyway. He pressed his lips together in a thin smile and nodded, a look of clear disinterest on his face as he took a sip of his beer, thinking of all the ways he was going to maim Miroku when they returned home.

Although from the way Yuri had her hands all over him, whispering things in his ear that make even Miroku blush, he doubted his roommate was leaving with him.

When he got home from his escapades thenhe would kill him. Who the hell did he think he was, trying to set him up? He wasn’t looking for some one night stand, or a something that could turn serious. He was interested in Kagome.

“We’re going to go order some more drinks at the bar.” Miroku suddenly said, after grasping Yuri’s hand and leading her away. Somehow, Inuyasha doubted it; if he was a betting man, he would put money on the pair finding an empty bathroom stall and Yuri on her knees.

“This is pretty awkward, isn’t it?” Yukka said, idly pushing around the noodles on her plate. “I really don’t like blind dates.”

“I didn’t even know I was going on a date.” He supplied rather bitterly.

“Sounds like an ambush.” She gave him a half smile as she leaned in closer, resting her head on her hands. “How terrible for you.”

Inuyasha shrugged. “It’s always terrible when Miroku is around a woman. Its unpleasant for everyone involved.”

She laughed and Inuyasha felt awkward. He hadn’t meant to be funny, people in general didn’t find his wit amusing. He knew his humor was often dry and lacking, finding that it grew on people over time. Either Yukka was being polite or she had some odd tastes. “He seems alright.” She said. “I mean, clearly he’s a flirt and is just looking for a good time, but hey, that’s Yuri’s type.” She sighed before she continued, a kind smile gracing her lips. “You don’t have to stay, you know. I mean, I don’t want you to feel obligated to sit and have dinner with me because your friend forced you to. Like I said, blind dates suck, so I wouldn’t be offended. I totally get it.”

The silence felt heavy when he finished talking, like he needed to fill it. It wasn’t like he could come out and tell her that he needed to stay for the duration in order to rub it in Mirokus face. He watched as she sat back a little, absent-mindedly rubbing her hand over her arm, clearly chilly. He would have offered his hoodie, if it was Kagome. Then again, if it was Kagome shewould have forced him to bring one, always fearful he would get sick despite his far superior immune system. She liked to care for him in those small ways, even if it didn’t make a difference. She treated him like anyone else. Inuyasha swallowed hard, needing to change the subject. It was hard to think of her without wanting to cry and fling the heavy ceramic plate across the room at the same time.

“I’m-I don’t mind staying, but I have to let you know… I’m not interested in dating, or hooking up or anything like that.” He stated bluntly.

She nodded, her hair bouncing. “Good, neither am I.” Inuyasha scoffed, clearly not buying her story.

“So why did you agree to come? If you don’t like blind dates, and you’re not looking for a relationship or getting laid.”

Yukka smiled. “Have you metYuri? She gets herself into bad situations all the time. Part of me wanted to go just to make sure she wasn’t seeing some creep and would make it back alive. But, the other part of me was interested.” She smiled as leaned forward a bit. “It’s been a while since I dated. I got out of a long term relationship and just dove into work. It’s hard to meet people, you know? Even if we don’t have a love connection, its fun to get out, isn’t it?”

“Haven’t you heard of dating apps?” He scoffed. “They’re literally made for that. Plenty of fish, tinder, any of that ring a bell?” Not that he ever used them, but he’d heard of them at least.

She laughed, soft and full at the same time. “How long have you been out of the dating scene? Those are for hook ups, buddy. The last guy I met on tinder was a doctor. He liked to ski in the winter and go out on his boat in the summer and volunteered at an animal shelter on the weekends.”

Inuyasha narrowed his brows. “That doesn’t sound too bad.” He said. Did this woman have incredibly high standards or what? “So why aren’t you out on the doctors boat instead of having cheap beers with me?”

“Yeah, all good in theory. Except do you know who actuallyshowed up?”

“Who?” He asked, and before he even realized it, he was engaged and enjoying her conversation. She was easy to talk to. His jaw actually dropped when she told her story, and before he knew it, he found himself chatting back. It wasn’t an unpleasant way to spend the night.

Miroku and Yuri returned later, looking disheveled and flushed, only to find the table missing one key player. “Where’s Inuyasha?” Mirkou asked, raking a hand through his black hair.

Yukka shrugged. “He said he had to go. I- I thought we were having a good time, then he just stood up and left.” She pouted a bit, making her lips look even puffier. Yuri rushed to her side and somehow Miroku knew he was going home alone tonight.

Mirkou frowned as he looked at the half eaten plate of chicken and the bills thrown down on the table to cover his fare. It was a bold move, trying to set Inuyasha up; back in their college days the man was a literal dog. He could smooth talk any woman he wanted, although it didn’t seem to take much back then. He had no interest in relationships, no interest in settling down in any way, shape or form.

But then he met Kagome.

It was like he did a complete 180 overnight. He met her and came back to their dorm starry eyed. He took her out for a date, and actual date, and barely managed to kiss her he was so nervous. From the moment he first spoke about her, he knew his best friend was ruined.

Really, he should have known better trying to set him up, but the man was so heart broken he thought a distraction woud do him some good. Once he had Kagome, there was no one else for him; When he heard the news that he and Kagome broke up he easily brushed it off as bullshit. There was no way he would have broken up with her, no way he would have found someone else.

Honestly, he wasn’t surprised Inuyasha fled. Without being told, he knew where he had gone, and for his sake, he hoped he wouldn’t screw this up.

~.~

He found himself outside of their door - herdoor now. Just hers. He didn’t live there anymore. It was a shot in the dark, checking their old apartment to try and find her, but for once, the Gods were on his side. She hadn’t moved, the scent wafting from the doorframe told him that.

It also told him she wasn’t home.

It had been so long since he saw her, so long since he spoke to her. It was nice, talking to Yukka. She was pretty and fun and a great story teller. It was easy to spend time with someone like that.

But it didn’t matter.

She wasn’t Kagome.

It wasn’t that he forgot about her when they started to talk; Kagome wasn’t the only thing that raced through his mind. It was true, at first, that he compared her to his fiancé. Kagome was prettier, her curves more his taste and her darker hair gave her pale skin a beautiful contrast. Yukka was taller, but that wasn’t necessarily a good thing; He liked that Kagome was short, liked to watch her stand on her tippy toes as she stretched to get the rice from the second shelve in the cupboard.

But as the date wore on, he found himself comparing less and just enjoying the company. She was interesting and had some crazy stories to share. And he just kept thinking ‘I’ve got to tell Kagome about this. She would eat this shit up.’ His thoughts always came back to her. He was sitting across from a great woman, really- she was a catch- but it never crossed his mind. What he did think about his how Kagome would react when he retold her escapades- about the surprise ending and how she would sit on the edge of her seat as he delivered the punch line, leaning in closer to him like she always did when she was invested in a story, how she would playfully hit his shoulder in excitement, no doubt because she would have ‘called it’ earlier. There was no way he could move on; in his mind, he was still dating Kagome. He wanted that, wanted her and no one else; He could have easily bedded Yukka, could have easily found a dozen women to take her place. But if it wasn’t Kagome, it didn’t matter, tonight’s debacle proved that. He wanted to see her again, wanted to wrap himself around her and find the comfort he was so sorely lacking. He wanted to go home.

So he did; the ache in his chest was painful, he felt like he couldn’t breathe. He knew that the only way he would find an ounce of relief was with her,not a substitute. He apologized and placed some bills on the table before he bolted out of the door, heading in the direction his heart told him he should’ve gone weeks ago. Maybe Miroku was right; maybe he should wait until his memory returned, maybe he would make things worse by showing up at her doorstep, fresh from a date.

But he didn’t care.

He wasn’t sure what he would find when he ran down the same street he used to walk, climbed the steps two at a time, gripping the rail more out of nerves than for support. Once he was sure that she still lived in their building he breathed a sigh of relief; but it was short lived- the next hurdle was what or whowould he find when he got there? He was ready to fight for her, that wasn’t the issue. The real problem would be holding back and not actually killing the bastard who dared to take his place. He had waited too long, allowed another to take his spot like a fool. Not any longer.

Well, a little longer. He was amped up and full of nerves and she wasn’t home. The tension eased, a little, as he slid to the floor, back against the white door. Where was she? Out with that Koga guy? Taking the pictures heshould’ve taken? Were they eating together, having a date much like he was just minutes earlier? Was he about to take her home? Was she thinking about him, feeling the same pain he did? Or was it all too late?

He decided he would sit there and wait; Best case, she came alone. Worse case, she didn’t come at all…. Or came with him. And that just wasn’t acceptable, not anymore. He wouldn’t lose his nerve, wouldn’t budge until he saw her, would be leave until she heard him out. He-

Her scent came to him, crisp and refreshing. His heart was beating double speed, he was sure she could heart its anxious sound from the stair well. When he heard her voice, his breath hitched in his throat, nerves strained as he opened and clenched his fists as her figure came into full view, a bags of groceries in her hand, and thankfully, no one by her side. Her blue eyes were wide with shock as she let out a small gasp of surprise.

“Inuyasha?”

#inuyasha #inufanfic #inukag #missing #ajoy3

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experimentalmadness · 5 years ago

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Cin Vhetin Ch. 1: Deserter

Heyo! So I decided to post full-text to my blog as well as just the links to Ao3 as I think this is a far friendlier way to post. I’ll do a catch up here of up to ch 3 and then moving forward I’ll always have a link + full text. Feel free to like, reblog, or reply, or go do so on A03.

And here’s the link!

Pairing: Din x OC/Reader (however you prefer to read it) No warnings for now

Summary: Trying to lay low after the imperial attack on Nevarro, Din finds himself pursued by a new and dangerous hunter. When circumstances force them to make an uneasy truce they discover that the two are stronger together than apart. Din sees potential in the hunter, but she has a few secrets of her own that threaten to shatter the fragile bond forming between them.

***

The nearby green-dusted planet of Raydonia was a welcome sight after a couple days of hyperspace. Pulling the Razor Crest into a slow dive to enter the atmosphere, Din Djarin hazarded one quick glance over his shoulder.

“What do you think? Good enough for a few days?”

One long green ear waggled as the baby gave a curious babble as it tried to lean over its seat to stare down at the approaching forests below.

“Yeah, me too.”

Bouncing from planet to planet wasn’t exactly ideal. Maybe he was just paranoid. Better to be overly cautious than risk ambush. The events of Nevarro were only a few weeks into the past, but retaliation from the Imps would be swift...if it was ever coming. He’d rather scramble their location as much as possible before beginning his next proper course.

Which was…what exactly?

Forests and canyons began to take proper shape as the Razor Crest pulled down slowly for a landing. There was a small settlement not far that he knew of. Backwater, out of the way. Perfect for a supply run and then back again bouncing through the Outer Rim until he felt secure enough that he wasn’t being followed.

The kid was babbling behind him.

Where did he even start to find where the child had come from? He couldn’t train it yet, the kid was way too young. He’d never seen another of his species before that he could recall. What was he going to do? Wander the galaxy asking if anyone had seen anything like it but older?

“Hey, careful,” Din grabbed the kid as it tried to climb up over the dash to lean against the window. He strapped it back into its seat even while it grumbled at him. “If you keep doing that you’re gonna fall.”

Once securely on the ground, Din switched the engines off and unstrapped his restless charge from his seat. The kid was off like a shot, truddling out of the cockpit. Din had to be fast to grab it before it tried to climb down the ladder. You’d think the kid would know by know its legs were too short to get down that thing. But everytime…

“Okay,” he set the child down as he opened the doors, lowering the gangplank. “Supplies, fuel, and then we’re out of here. Got it?”

The kid looked up at him with an eager smile, ears perking up, ready to stretch its legs. The minute the plank was down the kid was off. Din sighed. At least here there wasn’t much change of it getting into too much trouble.

***

The settlement was exactly as Din remembered it. Small, innocuous, but surprisingly well stocked from the steady cargo freighters that visited. Most of the residents had stayed out of the Rebellion, preferring to remain neutral and work the surrounding land. The Empire had never bothered with Raydonia much either. Almost everyone overlooked it.

And that suited Din fine.

It was, however, slightly more diversified than the last few times he had visited. Ex-pilots of both republic and imperial make had joined the settlement. Deserters most likely. Old loyalties didn’t seem to matter too much here. He clocked a few of the former imps but as long as they were content to ignore his presence he could tolerate theirs. Didn’t stop him instinctively reaching for his blaster when one drew too close.

“What do you want?”

“Uh,” the woman went a bit pale in the face. “You put in a supply order, right? My-my boss says we can send it to your ship.”

Din relaxed and gave the needed directions sending the skittish woman away. So not all the deserters were fighters here. That one was probably just some glorified bureaucrat. More annoying, but not nearly as dangerous.

The outdoor cantina provided a centralized location to people-watch while the order was fulfilled. The settlement was even smaller than the one on Sorgan, which was saying something. Across from the table the kid was banging its now-empty cup on the table. “You want more?”

He took the babble for a yes. “Stay there,” he said, taking the empty cup back up to the counter for a refill.

At the bar there was a small congregation of ex-Rebel fighters. One wore an old bomber jacket, the other a modified helmet favored by the X-Wing fighter pilots. Red and black, with a tinted visor grafted over the usually open, transparent one. A black respirator covered the ex-pilot’s mouth. Definitely fighters. Maybe Cara even knew them once. Neither one glanced his way.

His breath came up short when he turned back to his table only to find it completely empty.

Damnit, couldn’t that kid stay still for one second?

He slammed the cup down on the table and scanned the area. It couldn’t have gone far, not on those little legs. Careful to not outwardly project open panic, Din made a circuit of the catina.

“This one with you?” A raspy, modulated voice echoed out from behind him.

It was the pilot. They were holding the green nuisance in their arms. “Think he likes my helmet,” they said, plucking tiny claws away from the tinted visor as they tried to hand it off to him.

“Thanks.”

The pilot just waved him off before going back to her companion. “Keep an eye on it, easy to get lost around here.”

Din waited until the pilot was out of earshot before berating his charge. “Right, now that we’ve made ourselves known here I’d say it’s time to get going.”

The kid gurgled agreement.

***

The requested barrels of fuel and a crate of new supplies were already waiting for Din when he arrived back the Razor Crest. It took a couple of trips to get it all loaded up, and to keep the kid from trying to help by levitating one fuel cell off the ground.

With the doors sealed up, Din went back up to the cockpit. He’d fly low and land again some distance from the settlement before calling it a night. Just three days of that and then they’d go offworld.

Powering back up Din tried to take them out, but the engine gave a whirring groan in response.

What the…

He tried it again. His ship only gave a lazy lurch and a sputtering whine. Kicking the consol, Din checked on the fuel output. Empty. Impossible, he just replaced it. The kid gave a concerned coo.

“I don’t know,” he replied, exasperated. “Stay here, I’m checking the engines,” he stormed out of the cockpit before reappearing a second later, wagging a finger at the kid. “And I mean it this time!”

He climbed back down, running through a mental checklist of things that could possibly result in the fuel cell failure. He opened the doors and made his way over to the aft engine.

“Hey there,” a familiar, modulated voice said from behind.

He looked over his shoulder. The ex-pilot with the red and black helmet was there. They pointed up at the engine in question, casually. “Ship trouble?”

“Nothing I can’t handle.”

“Sure you don’t want any help?” the offer was friendly, even if the modulator in their flight helmet made it sound disinterested. “I’m good with ships.”

“I’m sure,” Din snapped. “Thanks,” he added a beat later, turning his attention back on the engine.

“Been a while since I saw a Razor Crest,” the pilot went on. “Older model. Older ships always get engine trouble. Fuel cells go in, but you know the wiring can sometimes get loose. Sometimes a panel comes out, something gets in and it’s just done.”

Instinct made Din slowly reach for the vibroblade he had up sleeve, flicking out the handle so that it met with his palm, but he did not turn around, making a show of examining the engine instead. “You gonna keep talking until I let you help aren’t you?”

Something that almost sounded like laughter rasped out. “No, but I am going to need you to put down that knife.”

Slowly, Din turned about to find himself face-to-face with a blaster. The pilot stood almost lazily to one side, keeping him within their sights. “No hard feelings,” they said with that same constant disinterest. “Just doing my job.”

And they fired.

#The Mandalorian #Mandalorian #Din x oc #Mandalorian x oc #my fic #Cin Vhetin

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johntwick · 5 years ago

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dinner with a killer

Little note: Three things!! First: i’m tagging this as an x reader because I don’t rly describe the girl and never use a name. so technically it can be read as an x reader. Second: I believe john is a huge hypocrite and probably wouldnt befriend a serial killer bc that’s (lol) “wrong” but it’s a fanfic so who cares!!? Third: This is loosely based off Hannibal (the scene with Tobias) so yeah there’s my inspo. Enjoy!

Word count: 2.4k Reading time:11mins

The sound of metal hitting glass plates echoed throughout the almost silent room. Some classical piece John didn't know flowed from a radio on low volume as they ate together in peace. He was having dinner with a woman he had met at the library a couple months before his wife died. He felt guilty that he had gotten so close with another woman while Helen was dying, but as a former assassin, he didn’t have many friends. There was Marcus at the time, still, he didn’t really open up to him about his ‘feelings’.

John ran into her while he was checking a book out. She was beautiful and he felt disgusting for thinking that. Her knowledge on books amazed John. Once he stated that he worked on books for a hobby he knew that wouldn’t be the last time he saw her. And that wasn’t the last time he saw her. They met for coffee multiple times and during those times they talked about books, she talked about her problems and John talked about how hard it was watching Helen die right before him. He never cheated on Helen. Never. He wasn’t and never will be that kind of guy.

Even though eating a homemade dinner with a friend was not cheating, John felt that it would be going a little too far. So every invitation to eat at her house he declined. Until the night Helen died, he called her in a moment of grieving desperation, and asked if he was still welcomed. They made plans and hung up.

Then Viggo’s stupid son, Losef, had to mess with John. That really screwed with his retirement plan. Thankfully he was able to take care of things in time for the dinner. He knew he’d still have a few things to take care of but he was still injured from his fight with Viggo and needed to heal.

John now sat and watched her as they both ate. He saw her eyes flutter, her muscles move and twitch, and a satisfied smirk appear upon on her face every bite she took. There was almost an unnerving, familiar feeling about her that was bugging him but, besides that, she was perfect. Too perfect. Maybe that was it.

“Don't like your meal John? You're worrying me. You've spent so much time staring at me you've hardly taken a bite.” She teased with a playfulness gleaming in her eyes. John hadn't realized she knew he was staring at her. He felt himself heat up at his carelessness. She lifted her head and stared at him, still smirking, for a few seconds before she looked down and took another bite of her food.

“Uh, no. Sorry. It's very good, actually.” John took another bite as he watched her swell with so much pride even he could practically feel it. This time a full smile spread across her lips.

“Thank you. It’s chicken that’s actually been baked encased in lotus leaves and clay. They call it “Beggar's chicken”. The story behind it is pretty interesting.” She put her fork and knife down. John continued eating as she started on the historical context of the name.

“There are many variations of the story but they all start with a beggar. This beggar stole a chicken and the farmer went after him.” She paused to take a sip of her wine.

“The beggar buried the chicken in mud and later that day when he knew the farmer was gone he dug it up. He was so hungry he didn’t wash it off. He just cooked it like that.”

John listened as she went on about how well cooked it was and how the beggar showed everyone in the town and it even eventually got to the emperor.

“Well I guess we should be thanking the beggar for this meal tonight.” He jest, causing her to giggle.

“You know growing up, I always wanted to be a chef.”

John gave her a fake surprised look and the woman

brought her hand up to hide her laugh.

“I know. Not very surprising.” The atmosphere in the room became uncomfortable. John felt it and he knew she could too.

“Other things got in the way. So I studied and specialized in human behavior.” She turned and stared at John. Her eyes held no emotion as the smile faded from her face. She looked as though she wasn’t there, and mentally John knew she wasn’t. So he called her name in his gentle but raspy voice and leaned slightly over the table to get close to her.

“I can’t figure it out John. All night I’ve been sitting here talking and enjoying this very well cooked meal with you. I could basically hear the thoughts in your head. I still can’t figure it out.” She was astonished.

John pulled back and leaned in his chair and narrowed his eyes at her. Why was she acting so strange?

“What can’t you figure out?” He asked, emotions absent in his voice.

Eyes just like his peered into him as she brought her head up.

“I know you’ve killed people. I’ve known since we first met, but how you just pushed it aside for love.. I just can't figure that out. ”

John could have sworn his heart dropped. His anxiety spiked as thousands upon thousands of thoughts raced through his brain. Nobody would ever even know John was royally losing his shit on the inside because on the outside he stayed calm. Just like he was trained. There was no, twitching of the eyes, biting or licking of the lips, shaking or even leg jumping. Nothing.

“It’s rude to ignore somebody John.” Though her tone was the same chaff, there was a bit of maliciousness in it.

John knew she wasn’t stupid and he most definitely was not going to offend her by acting as though she had no idea what she was talking about. This is not how he planned the night going.

“How did you figure out? That I’ve — killed people.” He questioned, not losing eye contact with her.

She let out a sigh before answering.

“Because I’ve killed people too. Mostly the people who annoy or bore me.”

Ah. So that’s what felt so familiar.

John still didn’t change his expression much but he did raise an eyebrow in question.

“Really?” He drawled out, doubt evident in his voice.

“No real reason to lie here. I even thought of killing you.”

At this statement John was beginning to start sorting through all the possibilities of what could go down, what he could use as a weapon if need be. It was almost as if she knew exactly what he was thinking.

“I’m not going to kill you John. Though the thought was tempting.”

She tapped her chin in thought and pursed her lips while looking him up and down. She was analyzing him. How he sat, how he spoke, his movements, she even watched his breathing. Although to the average person it wouldn’t have seemed like John changed one bit, but she wasn’t just any average person.

“You’re much stronger than me. I could never take you down physically.”

John felt a sense of pride at that statement and loosened up a bit. The woman stood up and started to clear their plates from the table as he stayed sat there. How did he not see it? This was something John grew up and had ingrained into his brain. At The Continental he always knew who was there for business. So how couldn’t he see it on this plain girl? He was brought out of his thoughts by a mug being placed in front of him. It was just coffee but rightfully so, John was skeptical.

“I didn’t spike the coffee John. This coffee is very expensive and I get it imported monthly. I’d never ruin it like that.”

The woman almost seemed offended as if that was such a ludicrous idea. John looked to the coffee to her to the coffee and back to her again. She raised her eyebrow and tilted her head.

“Something wrong with the coffee? You haven’t spoken a word since the huge reveal. I don’t scare you do I?”

She had to stop the chuckle from coming out. Yes. In a way John was scared of her. How easily she hid it, how normal she seemed. He wasn’t scared because he knew he could take her if she attacked him. He probably wouldn’t even need his weapon. Just his hands. She scared him because of how easily she tricked him. John willingly came to her house and ate dinner with her. He ate her food that could have been poisoned all while he had no idea. That’s what scared him.

“I don’t take my coffee black.” Is all he said.

She put her hand over her mouth in mock surprise.

“I didn’t know that. I would’ve taken you for a “just black” kind of guy.”

“Well there’s a lot that people don’t know about me.” John let out a short breathy chuckle.

“You’re not wrong about that. How do you take it?” She smiled and stood up.

“Two sugars and one cream. Please.”

She left with a wink and then hurried back. John took the cream and sugar from her and started to add his preferred amount. When he looked up she had her elbows on the table and her chin in her hands as she watched him intently. It seems that’s all they’d been doing tonight. Watching each other. John finally broke the silence.

“So what made you comfortable enough to tell me?”

Her eyes closed for a brief moment before she removed her head from her hands and her elbows from the table. She gave John a look of disbelief.

“You’re a killer and so am I. We have that in common. Don’t you ever just want to share that part of you with anyone? Doesn’t it get tiring? Always having to hide that from people?”

He thought about what she said for a moment. Yes it did get pretty tiring. It’s very hard to take the way you grew up, all the training, fighting and killing, and forget all about it. Although he wants to run from this part of him, to retire and leave it all behind him, he knows he can’t. He understood how she felt. Going out and meeting someone in the normal, law abiding world, was sometimes difficult. Nobody would ever know the really real you. Then there were people in the underground network where people only knew you based on your skill. Not your interests and disinterests. That didn’t mean they were the same. John never killed someone just because they inconvenienced him. Ok maybe he had but still, the people he killed were no saints.

“We all hide parts of ourselves. Hiding this isn’t anything different.”

The woman rolled her eyes and made a ‘tsk’ noise with her tongue and the back of her teeth. She started to rub her hands together.

“So, when you are doing basic human activities, let’s say, shopping at the mall, nobody ever makes you angry? You never get the split thought about how easy it would be to kill them?”

Now John rolled his eyes.

“I’m not saying that. I just have the control not to act on it. Making it easier to hide.”

She brought her hand up to her cheek and leaned against it. Her other hand started drumming against the table in a lazy manner. John could tell she was analyzing him again. She squinted her eyes at him.

“That’s not true. Did you not kill - what was it? - like eighty men? All over a dog? That doesn’t seem like much control to me, John.”

John took a deep breath and shook his head. It was really getting annoying how many times people had brought that up. That was different. There was much more to that than it just being a dog. Also how the hell did so many people know about it already?

“That was different. I am mourning my wife. That was the last gift she could possibly give me and it was ripped away.”

God, John didn’t know that last time he actually talked so much with someone. Why was he even still here? Why was he defending himself and sitting here, drinking coffee, with a murderer?

“It’s because deep inside you, you like it. Nobody, goes and kills so many people just because grief and mourning. You know who kills that many people? A killer.”

She states this in a matter of fact. It feels strange and foreign to John, that she can read him so well. Even Helen couldn’t read him this well. God how he loved Helen but when he told her of his past all she had was an attitude of ‘well let’s move on from that.’ Part of him wanted that but part of him mourned that. John didn’t know what he wanted. He submerged and hid away a part of himself for her. As guilty as it made him feel sometimes he wondered what their relationship would’ve been like if she had supportive of it.

That being said John quit mostly to protect her, not just because she wanted him to. Helen never even flat out told him to stop, but it was definitely implied. He never wanted to have to worry about someone going after her for something that happened in the past.

“John, you can’t always run from this part of you. I think it’s time you embrace it. You can live a normal life with me and still continue feeding into this dark desire. You don’t have to worry about me ever. I can handle myself.”

Two things were strange about this. First, John’s never been asked out before, usually he did the asking. Second, John didn’t think asking someone out could be so formal. It’s like she was trying to sell him a new car. Weird.

“My wife just died.”

“Ah yes, but for now, friends? You always need friends when you live a life like yours.”

“Friends. Yeah.” He looked and sounded almost bored, which was comical because he wasn’t bored at all. John was very intrigued.

The woman seemed happy with this answer. A huge smile appeared on her face as she held out her hand for John to shake. There was still so much more to be discovered about John. He was a mystery to everyone and this would be a mystery that she would solved before anyone else could.

#john wick x reader #john wick #i could probably do smth with this 😳#funny this was actually supposed to b like 600 words #just a little smth to post while i worked on my other piece LOL

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