#i would prefer to smash the wheel into the ground | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

murasakispace · 3 years ago

Text

Adam/Shindo Ainosuke X Male Reader

Author's note : Adam needs a bit of love, don't you think? A little love that doesn't imply to hurt Tadashi. It doesn't prevent that it is certainly crap. English is not my main language and it must be awful.

Warnings : NSFW, spanking, degradation and all the BDSM pack.

You were a newcomer, a rookie here. In S. You had the time to watch the local legends fall from their safe sky on the large screens. The most incredible was the race against Langa. Well... You were still wondering if his name was really Langa. Maybe you misunderstood, hidden in your shadows. First Joe, then Cherry and finally Adam. You had to admit their style was eclectic. Even them had to learn again. They were believing themselves as gods because they were the founders of a clandestin course. It made you shrug a little while you were observing them.

People were people. Here, in S, freedom was at its most powerful. A place were no one could say, order to someone something he doesn't want to do. Everything was ruled by skateboard and the people's talent. You were quite happy of that. Because of an accident years ago in mountains with your motorbike while you were heading to the summit so as to practice snowboard. You had the ambition to reach the Winter Olympic Games in half-pipe. You fell from a cliff and you miraculously landed meters below with broken ribs instead of your backbone.

During years you suffered and your dream of medals in the Olympic Games was gone, vanished into the air. Your well-known recklessness almost hurried you in your grave. In the hospital, you spent the last three years to reeducate with an omnipresent pain in your back, anger against the people who had forgotten you when you would have given them your soul if they asked for it an ended alone. You nearly lost your mind when you woke up from coma and nothing appeared in front of you. You weren't able to see anymore. Time went by and you found yourself offered the chance to remedy to your blindness. But it doomed you to wear particular sunglasses every day of your life. A little cost considering what you've been through.

You suffered. You were still aching but less than these last month. Moreover you felt better each day passing. Only eternal scars remain. And to be here in S got you like you were free as much as before your accident. And you would thank Adam for this. Yet, you meant nothing, watching the same scenes which were playing in front of your eyes.

You were sitting on your motorbike far behind the last people composing the crowds ahead of you. Actually, the last time you came at S was when Adam had been defeated. Since then, you weren't coming as often as you should now. Everything was more peaceful and Adam abandoned this bad habit to smash people in the face with his own skateboard. Of course, the blue-haired show-off would never stop to make his little shows and big entrances. You don't think that one day his "hey bitches and bros and non-binary hoes" would leave your mind so easily.

Yet, even if you admired Adam as an remarkable skater, you wouldn't prevent yourself to hate him for everything he was aside all of it. He was "in love" as he told to anyone who would like to hear it with his partners of race. It was nothing like love. You didn't know how you manage to not go through the crowds to slap him right in the face. He didn't understand. He wouldn't anyway. Love is sweet, a fluttering sentiment which set upside-down your guts and your soul. It wasn't how you remembered this wonderful thing.

Anyways, Adam had been defeated by a rookie that you had the power to crush on a snowboard. Even if he was talented, had he the talent of someone able to go in the Olympic Games? You didn't think so. You had yourself a modified board. And right now before the attended race between two opponents, you were as if you were playing on the half-pipe near the start of the race.

You were jumping even higher than this little rookie and executing figures in air that were turning sick some of the people gathered in your audience. You were hearing the slight gasps of awe coming from several girls watching them. Even Langa applaused you in the distance with an annoying smile. That little group comprehending Shadow, Reki, Langa, Miya and the others was sincerely uselessly noisy. Though, they were sometimes giving you back a smile you had long forgotten it was existing. But you didn't care anymore. You were busy with your "switched back flip with nose grab" and to make people applause even louder around you.

They were kind and cute because even if the trick wasn't so hard, doing it on a skateboard was something else. And it earned you the nickname of Eagle in S. You were impressive to say the least and people were clearly stunned. What you didn't expect was to attract the boss' attention here. Adam. Actually, his little grieves left you as if you were like marble.

Not only was he sticking to you but he also was quite insisting in his behavior. You didn't like him at all. It may have been the second or the third night that you came on the half-pipe of S. No one challenged you that time. You just shrugged your shoulders and were going on the way to leave this place. The pressure, the people gathered here, the races and the clear lack of delicacy from them made you get away from here. A sort of repulsion ordered you to go away. A skatepark would be big enough to allow you to do the same show for any passerby. After all what was the point of tiring yourself by skating if no one could applause for your demonstration of pure talent. And today, several nights after Adam's defeat, you were leaving S for good this time. It has no point for you to stay.

Yet, Adam didn't want the same. He was observing you before Langa. So he caught you up while lights were dancing around him.

"Mmh... What a wonderful little bird I see here. Don't be scared my dove, I'm not going to bite you." Adam said both loudly and sensually, thus it made crowds look in the same moment towards you.

A heavy silence has just fallen onto the crowds. You have heard the wheels of Adam's skateboard behind you. And he came, leaving his hand on your hips, getting you closer and closer to him. You could feel his hands roaming and doing delicate circles on the fabric of your clothes. Such an intimate action while you could almost feel his head rest on your shoulder. He made a little comment about your scent. Does this man have really no shame ?

"Aren't you tired of your own bullshit, Adam? Losing once wasn't enough to bring humility in you?" you snapped back while the man gazed at you.

"Never, my sweet, stubborn little dove" Ainosuke whispered in your ear while his hands were circling around your waists.

His sweet, gentle, poisonous tone was near to give you shivers. You weren't able to discern within yourself if it was a sort of trespassing desire that was boiling in you or a fire of rage and the deep will to smash him with your skateboard. Probably both. Let's agree on the fact that this man was a living invitation to luxury and rough love. You were just a little smaller than him but strong enough to make him comply and kneel in front of you like a slut. You clicked your tongue and forcefully escaped from Adam's treacherous embrace.

"Alright Eagle. I challenge you into a beef" Adam called behind you.

"Carry on" You answered back while the crowds become immediately silent were watching you with great interest.

"A race. You and me. Right now. The loser become the slave of his opponent." Adam added with his usual disturbing smile.

For one of the first times since you were coming in S, it was one of your first beefs. Moreover, with the boss of all that mess. And finally, it involved something hidden behind all of this display. And you liked it. Why not enjoying fully the race and the aftermath. You used the back extremity of your skateboard you hit Adam in the belly and making him move backwards. You were almost ecstatic. You walked calmly until the start line, put lightly your skateboard on the ground and set your foot on the deck while you were waiting for Adam to come. Obviously, he made his way towards you.

"Mmh... I'll enjoy to turn you upside down after this race" Adam sensually whispered.

"Your self-confidence will kill you one day, filthy man" you replied with a dry tone.

"Let's say that now that I've lost my Eve, the only person in S having my attention is you my little dove. Be ready, I'm not going to be easy on you"

These last sentences would the death of you. His magma-like voice was burning your insides. How can someone warm you up so efficiently? That was a mystery. But you liked it. Adam was well-known to be kinky. You hated a little yourself at that time. You were falling for an insane guy who is now targeting you. Obviously, it was not in a romantic way. Yet, Adam remained a reachable fanstasm. And you were apparently one of his. The green fire came rapidly, thus the start of the race.

Adam became fastly the first. You forgot about everything and just tried to have fun. You were skating as if your board was a part of yourself, dodging rocks and Adam's attack. You knew very well that he didn't change that much after his first defeat here. He even did his little thing of holding you close to him with the sort of horns on his skateboard.

" I love the movement of your hips, so agile, so smooth, I can't prevent myself to wonder what it will feel like to love you fully until you will ache for attention under my touch. You are a snowboarder too, right?" Adam asked more or less.

"You could say that. But I'm not like that kid. I prefer half-pipes. Besides, you have really no shame, haven't you? Anyways, goodbye."

You increased your speed and left Adam behind. You were jumping the cliffs where the turns formed the shape of a snake with the lights in the night. While you were flying, you were shining with more and more complicated figures and graceful landings, making you significantly ahead of the blue-haired holy creature named Adam. He managed very quickly to catch you up. A little smile was playing on your lips. That was funny to see him a little bit in difficulty.

You were provoking him. That was unbelievable and remarkably bold of you to do so. You annoying smile was allowing to build desire and longing in Adam's heart. He was the king and yet, a little dove was playing with him shamelessly. Adam was so mesmerized by your own race that he barely realized he was in the factory. The screams of the people gathered in there dragged him from his thoughts. He saw you fly until the finish line and cross it. You win against him. A huge silent welcomed him.

"One of the first things you have not to lose when you run is your own concentration. I don't know what happened to you but it doesn't prevent that you weren't really skating. So for the beef, I cancel the slave thing." You declared when Adam went towards you.

You turned your back to him and headed to your motorbike followed by the blue-haired man. You didn't want to stay any longer. Adam's footsteps were soft behind yours.

"How can you cancel the slave thing, as you called it?" Adam demanded.

Seeing that he didn't have any answer, Adam reached you to catch your shoulder and make you turn to look at him.

"Because I'm the winner" you responded with a threatening tone.

"So having me doesn't interest you?" Adam questioned with a spark of deception.

"I didn't say that" you replied with a playful half-smile crossing your lips.

You were surrounded by darkness and no one cared anymore about you. For the people, you were remedying with your little issues about the beef. Nothing very interesting for them. Your hand climbed Adam's tensed thigh before going backwards to his ass and caressing it shamelessly. You heard the man getting a heavier breath and mumbling sinner sentences in your ear. You didn't even move when he came closer to enjoy the caress.

"Adam... You are such a slut... Look at you, you sound like a virgin discovering sex" You told with an incredible amount of heat on your voice.

You left your fingers coming down on his half-hard dick and rub it lightly. Just enough to give shivers to the man.

"Horny, aren't we?" you carried on while Adam was melting under your touch.

It was only simple caresses yet the man in front of you was letting himself go as if you were escaping and he won't have anymore opportunities to have you so close.

"More" demanded Adam while he has finally what he wanted so hard.

But you stopped here, creating frustration in the man.

"There's a love hotel down Crazy Rock. Come with your Grim Reaper costume." You requested with an overbearing tone.

Adam ordered to Tadashi who wasn't present in S that night to bring him to this place and the black clothes he was wearing against Langa. Once arrived in the building, he headed towards the receptionist who led him until the room. The space was dark and very classical for a love hotel but it was enough to arouse Adam. He felt as if your hands were still on him while he was changing his red costume. The memory of your hands trailing down his back to reach his ass and caressing it shamelessly was still unbelievably strong in his mind. Then he felt the touch join his cock, gently but still enough to make surrender to your touch. He desired you so much right now. Once he wore his Grim Reaper clothes, he laid down the mattress. He let himself go to the warmth he was feeling. He already wanted you so hard. He thought he was still dreaming when he felt the sudden touch of your hand on his neck.

"Ready to cum due to a shameless imagination. What a dirty little pet we have here. Were you planning to touch while you would wait for me? " You whispered in Adam's ear, getting him to have goosebumps.

Your fingers went down along his spine then reached the start of his ass. You were riding him from behind, each of your legs apart Ainosuke's body. You spanked his cheeks violently when you see you wouldn't get your answer, making the man moaning of both pain and pleasure.

"Use your tongue. You still have one, right?" you picked up after this unwanted silence.

"Yes" mumbled the submitted man.

"Louder. I don't hear you."you commanded.

"Yes"

He was speaking at the volume you wanted to listen. Loudly but not enough to disturb people out there.

"Better" you acknowledged with a neutral tone.

You got away from the position you have over Ainosuke. You were looking for the bad you brought with you. In the corner of your eye, you remarked the presence of a mirror. It could be useful but not now. You were secretly impatient to play with the king of S. You glanced at him and couldn't prevent a half-smile on your face. His hips were slightly higher than what would be normal. The blue-haired man was aching for your touch. Unhappily, it seemed sometimes you weren't as mean as some of masters with their human pet when it comes to tough, rough and painful but delicious sex. Well... It didn't matter actually. Your beautiful puppy lying on the mattress would love it anyway. You sincerely enjoyed the fact that this natural dominant male was completely under your control.

"Get up and kneel. Be rid of your clothes and keep your eyes on the wall. If you look at me I leave you here, tied and with a toy in your ass until you faint. Is that clear?" You ordered with a severe voice.

You didn't get any answer immediately.

"Yes". You heard behind you.

"Yes who?" You added.

"Yes Master" Adam ended while he just worked to be in his knees over the blankets.

The man got rid of his suit not so quickly. The fabric was comfortable and smooth, suiting perfectly his body. The memory of your touch was almost disappearing with him leaving aside all the clothes. He ended naked on the bed, his pale skin revealed to the air. He kept his eyes locked on the wall and he didn't have any access to the mirror to watch what you were doing. He only heard some noises somewhere behind him. Adam was shivering litghtly because of anticipation. He didn't want you to be kind with him. The rougher the better. Anyways, love and pain were both the faces of a coin, right? He submits but you serve.

Ainosuke felt your hand climbing along his leg and rest a few seconds on his thigh. You slided a lubed toy in his hole. You went as deeply as you could without bruising you pet and without leaving without any sensations. His insides were slightly stretched enough to emphasize the rubbing which you started from a few feets away.

You had the time to change in a black leathery pants and high boots, all black, with an open shirt lazily flying along your sides. After that, you were just watching Ainosuke's nakedness from behind. He was well-shaped. You couldn't say more. And this beautiful insane man was craving for your attention. You knew the effect the toy had. The more Adam was holding back his moan, the more the toy is going to make him lose his mind. You knew very well that the man had a certain endurance. Yet, it had no effect when the right points within his body were touched and loved.

You were still gentle. You could be more cruel and less careful about your little pet. Adam knew it very well. He was sure he looked like a little virgin taking pleasure for the first time but the thing inside of him suppressed all of his strength. He was grunting and moaning like a whore and he loved it. But it wasn't enough. It wasn't you.

"More..." Breathed the man while his whole body was totally shaking.

"More? Really?" you asked while you were enjoying the frustration on Adam's face and the red hue on his cheeks.

"Inside me... Touch me..."you went to caress Ainosuke's naked ass before spanking it another time.

"You have no permission to cum, dirty pet. I'll punish you otherwise."you warned with a threatening tone in your voice.

The heat was slightly consuming the blue-haired man and pleasure was way too heavy for him, almost choking sometimes. You would be the death of him if it carried on.

"Please..."Adam silently begged while you were heading to an armchair not far away from the display in front of you.

Were you sadistic? Probably. You had one of your legs hanging on the side of your seat and watching Ainosuke fighting the destroying pleasure inside of him. You were so desirable. No one would ever say the contrary. It was only the start for your adorable pet. But it wasn't enough for you.

"Come here." You commanded with a monotonous but commanding tone in your voice.

You saw Adam moving to reach you. He stumbled on the few meters he had to make to come at you. He knelt in front of you but it sounded more like he wasn't able to carry his own weigh. He was looking up at you with eyes tainted of pleasure. He caressed your legs as any good cat would do to please his master and get some food or any touch. Your hand reached his chin and you lift it without any delicacy. A few more and Adam was going to surrender and leaving himself being overwhelmed by pleasure. His red eyes were blurry and full of lust and you locked yours on his. Your hand went in his hair and you brought him closer to you.

"Take it. And do it well, slut" you requested with an overbearing tone.

You felt shaking hands roaming over your leather pants and undo the belts resting on your hips. His fingers freed your half-hard dick but he was too slow.

"Faster" you ordered.

Adam put his finger on the skin of your shaft, then his lips. You hardly held back a grunt of pleasure while you were feeling his hot mouth around your cock. That was divine but not enough. You settled your fingers in Ainosuke's hair and pulled it closer.

"Come on, slut"

The blue-haired man wasn't slow but it wasn't fast enough and it frustrated you. You ordered him for more speed and he did it. Adam was all focus on your pleasure, worshipping you with his tongue and his lips. It was warm inside his mouth. You wanted to dirty your sub with your seeds and make him feel like a doll in your hands. Besides, you increased the speed of the toy inside Adam's ass. He was fighting tou bring you pleasure and not to cum. His whole body must ache but you didn't really care. You wanted more. You helped a little Ainosuke with his movements. His tongue was caressing you shamelessly, and he was all focused on you. You were almost fucking his throat.

"You are really a whore my pet. Worse than a dog in heat. Loot at you"

You led his eyes to the mirror not far from you. Adam moaned when he saw the image of himself. The red hue on his cheeks while he was taking your cock into his mouth. The sight was mesmerizing. Then, lower, the pre-sperm was dripping from his own sex. Adam wasn't able to suffer it anymore and the last image had been the death of his limits and he cummed lankily on the ground. His muscles all tensed relaxed in a few seconds. He spilled his white liquid everywhere at the bottom of the armchair while he was moaning with your shaft still in his throat.

You raised your hand and gave him an echoing slap which made the blue-haired man fall on his back, covered of his dirty sperm. You perceived Adam hard cock raising between his legs.

"Kinky whore. You are not even able to handle it, right? Such a disobedient little puppy. You'll be punished, you know that, aren't you?" you threatened with a sweet voice, penetrating under Ainosuke's flesh.

You were watching your pet getting up from his position on the ground.

"Be happy that I'm not going to order you to lick it, silly kitten. On the bed, now. Twenty whiplash, and if you are not obedient, I'll double that number. Understood?"

"Please Master, no!" Adam surprisingly begged with and hoarse voice to you.

"This is the cost for your insolence and disobedience. It could be a hundred so take what I allow you" You replied without any softness.

You gave the order to your dog to be astride on the bed, on all four. Adam settled over the blankets and stayed still. The man heard you get the tool in your hand. And without telling him, he felt a painful burn on his ass, followed by your hand which rubbed it. Ainosuke heard himself grunt to the sudden soothing caress.

"It was the first. I won't be that kind after. Count them. At any mistake, It'll be thirty"

You blowed him again and your sub was counting but it was painful and red traces were appearing on his skin. You weren't soft with him and appreciated his delicious reactions of suffering and adoration. The toy was still in his ass, driving him crazy from both inside and outside. Adam wasn't able to keep up anymore and at the end on the punishment, he fell over the blankets, naked, full of shame, pleasure and love. He was crying due to the overwhelming amount of feelings. His shaft was so hard that it was painful and he wanted freedom from you. His pants were perceptible in the silence of the room. The blue-haired man felt your hand on his ribcage and forcefully turn him on his back.

He saw climb over the mattress and settle near him. Your finger roamed over your pet's belly and touch his nipples, making him shiver and grunt. Your softness was welcome for Adam. His body was aching due to tension and slaps but pleasure was still present in his blood and adrenaline was keeping him conscious. Suddenly, the toy Ainosuke had in his ass had a different movement, more intense, more rubbing and making him moan loudly.

"Did you seriously think it was ended?" you questioned with a playful tone. "No. Of course not".

You got up and put yourself in a riding way. You pushed your shaft inside Adam's mouth and start to fuck his throat again. Fingers curling down the sheets and becoming white. Your sub was testifying of this pleasure. And you were too. Your hips were getting faster and faster and Adam's eyes were rolling backwards while pleasure was burning him. You were silently moaning and keeping your features still but it was hard when your little pet's tongue was that agile and smart to find the areas able to make you shudder. It felt like eternity till you finally cummed inside of Ainosuke's mouth. Your sub swallowed everything and as a reward you ordered him to change of position and to rest on his belly. You removed the toy from his ass and caressed it softly.

"Master..." called quietly Adam.

"Mmh?" you responded with distance in your behavior towards him.

"Please. Fuck me." begged silently the man.

Where was Adam, the king of S, almost undefeated? Where was the show-off, the insane guy? You knew very well where he was. He was subdued to every of your desire now, drunken by pain and pleasure, knocked by envy. He wanted you in the simplest way. The incubus became the innocent virgin and you were his master. Nothing was left from the skater man that you met at the nightfall. He was just a body aching for softness after a hardship, pleading for quietness now. And more sincere than he never had been until tonight. He needed you.

"Please Master..." whispered again Adam.

But his begging stopped when Adam felt your dick against his hole. A slight moan escaped from him and you started to bury yourself in him. His insides were warm and comfortable but so tight. The rubbing was divine and you could help yourself but start to fuck his ass very slowly to push him to worship you. Adam had his hips hanging a little in air as you were thrusting to give you both an amazing amount of pleasure.

"P-Please Master... More..." moaned Adam while you were almost hitting his ass.

It was so nice to see the man so submitted to his needs coming from you. You couldn't help yourself but started to thrust more and more quickly and fastly. The sound of your flesh against each other was echoing in the room and you liked it. You got rougher and rougher but it was still nice and finally, you let yourself be. You felt Adam's hole tightening around your shaft for the second time. Your hands slide down his hips to find his own sex so as to apply languid caresses. It was too much for him and his muscled yet thin body sank on the bed and you followed him in his climax not long after him.

You were panting heavily and your pet was actually nearly fainting. You took him into a warm embrace and rubbed his skin to soothe him. You didn't have the time for a real aftercare because he fell asleep immediately. You would wait him to take a needed shower. For the time that you had, you left him be.

Adam had been a wonderful sub. You were happy. But you didn't have the intention to stay with him. If he wanted you, then maybe you should have a more serious and deeper conversation. But now, it wasn't what you wanted.

#sk8 adam #anime #anime boy #bad guy #ainosuke shindo x reader #sk8 ainosuke #shindo ainosuke #sk8 renga #miya chinen #sk8 miya #matcha blossom #sk8 scenarios #sk8edit #bxb #male reader #villain #lovers

177 notes · View notes

kj-1130 · 4 years ago

Text

Nothing For Me

Part 7

Main Masterlist

Part 6|Part 8

You and MJ’s relationship continued to grow as time went on.

As she started her first year of high school, you worked on yourself, wanting to be good for her.

Overtime, you learned how to process and deal with things better. You focused on yourself and your developing relationship with MJ and needless to say, things started to look up.

The ‘present but not really present father’ thing didn’t affect you as much as it did, but it was still there. It was one of the only things you hadn’t fully processed and to be honest, you didn’t think you ever could.

Your father is there, and has been aware of presence for almost a decade. And not once has he given you any type of consolation or love like a father should. You would think after Pepper was getting more involved in his life and forcing him to clean up (most of) his act, he would open his eyes and realize that a whole human being was living with him, waiting for him to realize that they were supposed to be relying on him; not an AI built in the comfort of their room.

But nope. Absolutely nothing changed. If anything, things got worse.

He was away more often, focusing on the Avengers. Or he was with Pepper, the new love of his life.

You tried not to linger on the situation often, knowing it would only lead to pain in your chest. So you just stuffed it in the back of your mind, hoping one day that the pain would just lessen all together.

About two months ago, you and MJ had decided to make things official after going on your first date. At first you talked about how fast the two of you were going, but Michelle simply said ‘we’ll be u-haul lesbians then.’ That was the end of the conversation.

Currently, you and your girlfriend were facetiming. You would’ve made the trek to her house but she was about to study and you both knew that you’d distract her. Plus the two of you were due for some time away from each other considering the fact that you’re at her place almost everyday.

“Okay, so I found this recipe the other day and I’m just now remembering it.”

MJ looks at you confused, “Okay?”

You roll your eyes playfully.

“I wanted to try it with you. After my ban from your place has been lifted.”

“It’s not a ban,” she chuckled.

“Well, it sure as hell feels like one ba-” “Mr. Stark has arrived with a guest,” M.I.A cut you off.

“Who is this guest?”

“Secretary of State, Thaddues Ross,” the AI replied, pulling up pictures of the man.

“Hey M, I’m gonna call you back.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she nods, looking a little concerned. “Take all the time you need. Let me know if everything’s okay.”

The two of you give your goodbyes and you ask M.I.A to pull up the live footage from the conference room.

“Perspective. The world owes the Avengers an un-payable debt. You have fought for us, protected us, risked your lives… but while a great a=many people see you as heroes, there are some who would prefer the word “vigilantes”, is what you first hear when you start watching.

Immediately your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“And what word would you use, Mr. Secretary?” Natasha asks.

“How about ‘dangerous’?” he replies. “What would you call a group of US-based, enhanced individuals who routinely ignore sovereign borders and inflict their will wherever they choose and who, frankly, seem unconcerned about what they leave behind?”

The secretary activates a screen behind him which begins to play the previous battles the Avengers and SHIELD have fought in.

“New York.”

He clicks a button, footage of chitauri, shooting guns, and Hulk smashing plays.

“Washington D.C”

A new video appears, showing the insight helicarriers firing at each other with chaos following.

“Sokovia.”

The frame changes, showcasing the terrified citizens that were on the flying piece of land.

“Lagos.”

“That’s enough,” Steve interrupts.

Ross nods in response and begins his speech again.

“For the past four years, you’ve operated with unlimited power and no supervision. That’s an arrangement the governments of the world can no longer tolerate. But I think we have a solution.”

He places a thick document on the table and slides it across to Wanda. As the team slides the book to each other Ross starts talking.

“The Sokovia Accords. Approved by 117 countries… it states that the Avengers shall no longer be a private organization. Instead, they’ll operate under the supervision of a United Nations panel, only when and if that panel deems it necessary.”

“The Avengers were formed to make the world a safer place,” the Captain begins. “I feel we’ve done that.”

“Tell me, Captain, do you know where Thor and Banner are right now?” There was a momentary pause as the two men’s eyes met. “If I misplaced a couple of 30 megaton nukes… you can bet there’d be consequences. Compromise. Reassurance. That’s how the world works. Believe me, this is middle ground.”

At this point, you’re walking out of your room after transfering the feed to your tablet and making your way to the elevator.

“So, these are contingencies,” Rhodey states.

“Three days from now,” Secretary Ross begins. “The UN meets in Vienna to ratify the Accords. Talk it over.”

Natasha speaks up, “And if we don’t come to a decision you don’t like?”

“Then you retire.”

The elevator stops and you look up seeing the Secretary walk in with someone behind him. You give him a subtle disgusted look before turning your attention back to the security footage.

As the deathtrap descends, you can feel his eyes lingering on you.

“Can I help you?”

“You’re a little young to be an intern.”

“You’re a little old to be looking at me like that,” you shrug, swiping away from the video on your tablet as you feel him looking over your shoulder.

Ross gives an awkward chuckle and furrows his eyebrows. When you reach the bottom floor, he gets ready to step out and places a hand on your shoulder.

You look at him like he’s lost his mind.

“You seem like a good kid. Be sure to make good choices.”

Raising an eyebrow, you refrain from saying what you want to say. You lift your hand and gently take his off of you.

“Don’t touch me,”

Once he exits, you hear the chatting start back up.

“Secretary Ross has a Congressional Medal of Honor,” Rhodes told Sam. “Which is one more than you have.

“So let’s say we agree to this thing,” Wilson starts. “How long is it gonna be before they LoJack us like a bunch of common criminals?”

“117 countries want to sign this. 117, Sam, and you’re just like, ‘No that’s cool. We got it.”

“I have an equation,” Vision announces as you get back on the elevator.

“Oh this will clear it up,” Sam mutters.

“In the eight years since Mr. Stark announced himself as Iron Man, the number of known enhanced persons has grown exponentially. And during the same period, the number of potentially world-ending events has risen at a commensurate rate.“

“Toaster oven’s got a point there,” you mumble, stepping back on the metal deathtrap.

Steve asks,“Are you saying it’s our fault?”

“I’m saying there may be a causality. Our very strength invites challenge. Challenge incites conflict. And conflict… breeds catastrophe. Oversight… oversight is not an idea that can be dismissed out of hand.”

“Boom,” Rhodey says.

You see Tony lying on the couch, quite relaxed, contradicting the tense atmosphere.

“Tony,” Nat starts. “You are being uncharacteristically non-hyper-verbal.”

“It’s because he’s already made up his mind,” Steve explained.

“Boy, you know me so well,” Stark starts, getting up and rubbing the back of his head. “Actually I’m nursing an electromagnetic headache,” he pauses to grab a mug of coffee. “That’s what’s going on, Cap. It’s just pain. It’s discomfort. Who’s putting coffee grounds in the disposal? Am I running a bed and breakfast for a biker gang?”

Tony puts his phone in a basket and taps the screen. An image is projected of a smiling young man.

“Oh, that’s Charles Spencer, by the way. He’s a great kid. Computer engineering degree, 3.6 GPA. Had a floor level gig at Intel planned for the fall. But first, he wanted to put a few miles on his soul, before he parked it behind a desk. See the world. Maybe be of service. Charlie didn’t want to go to Vegas or Fort Lauderdale, which is what I would do. He didn’t go to Paris or Amsterdam, which sounds fun. He decided to spend his summer building sustainable housing for the poor. Guess where, Sokovia.”

He pauses for a second as the team soaks in the information.

“He wanted to make a difference, I suppose. I mean, we won’t know because we dropped a building on him while we were kicking ass.

“There’s no decision-making process here. We need to be put in check! Whatever form that takes, I’m game. If we can’t accept limitations, if we’re boundary-less, we’re no better than the bad guys.”

“Tony, someone dies on your watch, you don’t give up,” Steve rebuttals.

“Who said we’re giving up?”

“We are if we’re not taking responsibility for our actions. This document just shifts the blame.”

“I’m sorry. Steve,” Rhodey blurted. “That-that is dangerously arrogant. This is the United Nations we’re talking about. It’s not the World Security Council, it’s not SHIELD, it’s not HYDRA.”

“No, but it’s run by people with agendas, and agendas change.”

“That’s good,” Tony starts. “That’s why I’m here. When I realized what my weapons were capable of in the wrong hands, I shut it down and stopped manufacturing.

“Tony, you chose to do that. If we sign this, we surrender our right to choose. What if this panel sends us somewhere we don’t think we should go? What if there is somewhere we need to go, and they don’t let us? We may not be perfect, but the safest hands are still our own.”

“If we don’t do this now, it’s gonna be done to us later. That’s a fact. That won’t be pretty.”

Wanda finally speaks up, “You’re saying they’ll come for me.”

“We would protect you,” Vision promised.

“Maybe Tony’s right,” the redhead speaks. “If we have one hand on the wheel, we can still steer. If we take it off--”

“Aren’t you the same woman who told the government to kiss her ass a few years ago?” Sam interrupts.

“I’m just… I’m reading the terrain. We have made… some very public mistakes. We need to win their trust back.

“Focus up,” Tony says. “I’m sorry, did I just mishear or did you agree with me?”

“Oh, I want to take it back now.”

“No, no, no. You can’t retract it. Thank you. Unprecedented. Okay, case-closed--I win.”

From what you see, Steve stands to leave abruptly.

You then walk out of the elevator, tablet still in hand with the footage up. The captain walks past you just as you turn the corner and spot the team.

“Someone’s upset,” you hum.

You walk past everyone towards the fridge and grab a water bottle.

“Anyway, that was very childish. And kinda stupid.”

Inquisitive looks are thrown your way and you hold up the tablet awkwardly as you plop down on a chair.

“I was watching you. I kinda do that a lot. It’s not as creepy as it sounds.”

You open the bottle and take a sip.

“What are you doing down here kid--”

“Ahhh,” you interrupt. “Don’t call me a kid. I haven’t been a child for years.”

“Just answer the question,” Tony snaps.

“I like to stay informed. No one tells me anything and while you think that these private meetings only affect you, it doesn’t. It affects me too. You may not remember I’m your child but several people do. And that puts me in danger. So yes, I listen to your conversations to make sure it’s nothing I need to worry about.”

An awkward silence washes over as you gulp down more water.

“Anyway, I was just riding up and down the elevator waiting for you guys to finish. That Ross dude is kinda creepy by the way. But you’re really considering signing that thing?”

“Not you too,” your father mutters.

You let out a laugh and everyone looks at you strangely.

“Is this funny to you?” Rhodey asks.

“Yes,” you stop laughing abruptly. “I find it hilarious that this is the same government that was ready to drop a nuke on the city during the Battle of New York not giving a damn about a single civilian that was still in the area. I find it hilarious that this is the same government that lets thousands of children and women of color go missing and not do a thing about it. It’s funny that this is the same government that let HYDRA, Red Room, AIM; all that shit grow right under their nose. It’s funny because this government is the same one that uses taxpayer money for dumb ass projects and unnecessary military funding instead of using it to fund shit that helps the civilians they claim they care so much about. I mean how can you not find this situation amusing?”

“Look,” Tony attempts.

“I’m not finished,” you challenge, looking him dead in the eyes. “This government don’t give a damn about y’all, especially not the three of us,” you say, gesturing to yourself, Sam, and Rhodey. “We’d be booted out of this country before you could even blink if they ever got the chance and you know that.

“I don’t know why y’all are so adamant on gaining the government’s trust when they don’t give a flying fuck about you or these goddamn civilians. All they care about is power. They don’t care how many civilians come up missing or die in some tragic accident. It doesn’t matter what happens. When they see someone becoming richer or smarter or more powerful than they are, they will do anything to shut that shit down.

“I don’t understand how you can’t see that. And maybe it’s just me. Maybe it’s just me and my experience,” you pause, catching the gaze of every person in the room with hard eyes. You take a deep breath and try to calm down. “Sign it if you want to. Think about how many lives you’ll lose then.”

You stand from your spot and walk into the open elevator, ready to get to the comfort of your bed.

It had been two days since the initial meeting and you were currently sitting on Michelle’s bed watching her read.

“You’re really pretty,” you muttered out of the blue.

You saw your girlfriend’s cheeks develop a subtle red tint as she mumbled back a ‘thank you, and continued reading. You groan and gently pull the book out of her hands.

“Hey,” she quietly protests.

“Please,” you pout, holding your arms out as an invitation.

MJ fondly rolls her eyes before lowering herself onto you. You hummed contently and squeezed her before planting a kiss on her cheek.

She surprised you by turning her head and giving you a lingering kiss. That one kiss soon turned into something more.

Michelle gently pushed you onto your back and straddled your hips. Bending down she kissed you once again, her lips gliding with yours.

This continued for a few minutes, taking small breaks in between to breathe. You don’t think you could ever get enough of her and hoped that she was feeling similarly.

You kissed until your jaws hurt. The euphoric feeling still lingered as MJ rested her forehead against yours, trying to catch her breath.

“We should do that again sometime,” you mumbled.

Your girlfriend nodded in response, giving one more chaste kiss to your lips before dropping to your side.

“Tomorrow,” she said after glancing at the clock that read 10:47.

“Guess I’m spending the night then.”

“I have no problem with that.”

The next day, you were awoken by beeping from your phone. Once you were fully aware of your surroundings you picked up the device and read the notifications that M.I.A sent through. Scanning through them, you sat up with urgency and played the video.

“A bomb hidden in a news van ripped through the UN building in Vienna. More than 70 people have been injured. At least 12 are dead, including Wakanda’s King T’Chaka. Officials have released a video of a suspect who they have identified as James Buchanan Bares, the Winter Soldier. The infamous HYDRA agent, linked to numerous acts of terrorism and political assassinations.”

Carefully removing Michelle’s arm from around your waist, you stand up and move to the corner of the room. You press the contact and hold the phone up to your ear.

“Nat what the fuck is going on?”

You hear the woman sigh on the other side of the phone. “Look, just… stay wherever you are.”

“Yeah, okay, whatever. I want answers, Nat.”

“(Y/n),” she says firmly. “Calm down and go back to whatever you were doing. Right now, this does not concern you and I would like it to stay that way. Do you understand me?”

There was some silence, before you let out a forced chuckle.

“Okay, whatever. Bye.”

“(Y/n) c’mo--”

You disconnected the call and gently tossed the phone onto MJ’s desk. “You sound stressed.”

Turning around to face the bed, you see Michelle sat up and leaning against the headboard. You nod slowly and crawl your way up towards her.

“I am.”

You feel her hand take hold of your clenched ones and she rubs them, causing you to relax slightly.

“There was a um, bombing at the--the um… signing thing. And no one wants to tell me what’s going on, so,” you end the sentence, shrugging.

MJ’s head drops onto your shoulder and you let her cuddle close.

“They told me to stay where I was. So hopefully we can get something good out of that.”

There was no response and you thought she had fallen back asleep, but you were proven wrong when your girlfriend started getting up.

“C’mon,” she instructed, holding her hand out when she saw the look of confusion on your face.

Taking her hand, the two of you made your way to the kitchen.

She turned around and grabbed your shoulders.

“We are going to make some breakfast… or lunch whatever. And then we are going to binge watch until we can binge watch no longer. Alright?”

You nod your head, chuckling and then got to work.

It had been days since you last heard from anyone. No updates from Natasha. M.I.A even told you there hasn’t even been a great deal of movement in the compound. Today you decided you would head back.

When you arrived it was quiet. As you walked down the halls you heard distant chatter and followed it.

Turning the corner, you were surprised at what you saw.

“What the hell happened?”

The two men turned to look your way, but you were given no answers.

Tony had bruises on his face and he looked more tense than usual. Rhodey had some sort of tech on his legs.

“You fought them. You fought them all, didn’t you?”

Both men looked away and avoided your gaze.

“You didn’t even listen to what I said. This is what the government does. I tried to tell you, but you didn’t even fucking listen,” you ranted, your voice slightly raising.

“Us breaking apart wasn’t the government. Most of this is on some guy th--”

“Well the government allowed it to happen so I’d say it is their fault!”

You turned to your father with pleading eyes.

“Where are they, Tony?”

“Kid, they’re criminals now, I don’t--”

“Stop calling me that! I’m--I’m not some kid. I’m not your kid,” you let out a frustrated breath. “You--you couldn’t talk it out? Like mature adults? You just had to go assert your dominance somewhere--in what? An--an airport? Some vacant lot? You just had to fight. Do you not know how to communicate?”

You looked at the two men, shook your head, and brushed past them.

Just when things were alright.

“(Y/n)?”

“What M.I.A?”

You were currently laying in your bed trying to control the tears that were begging to fall from your eyes due to the amount of overwhelming shit you had been hit with. You talked with MJ for a little while and while it helped a bit, you honestly were still feeling like… well shit.

“There’s a package for you.”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you head down to where the mail is usually placed, get the package with your name on it, and head back to your room.

Grabbing a pair of scissors, you cut the tape and open the box. Inside was a letter and a phone.

Hey sweetheart.

It was Natasha’s handwriting.

I’m sorry. I really am. We all are. I wish things wouldn’t have ended this way, but they did and we can’t really do anything about it now.

I listened to what you said. I listened and I tried my best to understand. I don’t think I ever wanted to sign the accords in the first place. The only reason I did so was so that we could stay together. So that I could stay with you. This team is the only family I’ve had in a long time. The fact that that stack of papers could end that scared me.

I just kept trying to convince myself that signing the Accords was the right thing to do; anything to keep this team together. Anything to keep everything from falling apart.

But the more I thought about it, I realized. You were right. Everything you said. This government doesn’t care. And if the government doesn’t care like they’re supposed to then we need to. People need the government, but they don’t have it. They do have us though. And they always will.

I love you. I didn’t say it enough and I don’t know when or if I’ll ever get to tell you that again. You are so precious to me and I’m sorry I couldn’t stay. If you ever need anything, you can always give me a call.

You wiped your eyes and gently picked up the phone. You held it in your hands for a moment before setting it down. You folded the letter back up neatly and placed both items in the top drawer of your nightstand.

You laid back down on your bed with less tears on your face.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Permanent Taglist

@stillmanicc, @annestine, @ymzki-haruki

Nothing For Me Taglist

@littlegasps, @leahnicole1219, @thebadassass, @legendarymcnuggies, @big-galaxy-chaos, @believinghurts, @play-morezeppelin, @vavilip, @coollemonsaresour, @ximaginx, @xx-narcissa

Marvel Taglist

@hateinthemorning, @mylove4life, @badbitchyonjii, @blueposthings

#avengers #avengers imagine #avengers x reader #avengers x teen!reader #avengers x black!reader #tony stark #tony stark x daughter!reader #michelle jones x reader #michelle jones x fem!reader #nothing for me miniseries

177 notes · View notes

writing-in-april · 4 years ago

Text

Training wheels

Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary: Years later after Spencer teaches Reader to drive even though he hates driving, Reader becomes good enough to ride a motorcycle they get him to come along on a ride.

A/N: hey heyyyy- this is my seventeenth fic for my 30 fics in 30 days for April! This fic is based on this request- which I decided to make smutty instead of full on smut so I could make it a bit more fluffy. Disclaimer- I know nothing about motorcycles and I can’t even drive lol so sorry for the lack of terminology. This ended up being gender neutral- I checked it over for the correct pronouns a few time but I could have missed something- please let me know if so! Feel free to give me your response by sending something to my inbox here. Thanks for reading and hope y’all enjoy.

Warnings: 18+- (if you are found to be violating this I will tell writers who you are), no full on smut- in the smutty/spicy category, a bit of grinding, implications about having sex in the future, In public sexual teasing (who’s fucking surprised), hints at Sub!Spencer, A few swear words

Main Masterlist Word Count: 2.0k

Spencer hated driving. He always shook whenever he couldn’t stop the racing thoughts about the dangers of moving vehicles. He knew he was a good driver, but it was easier for him to trust the metro which stayed on its tracks (most of the time). A car with no rigid path and with so many variables just made Spencer’s mind race too much.

You were the only person that could get him to get into a car, without any sort of coercion. At his job he had accepted it as a reality of his situation; there was no way that he could get around it. He agreed to teach you how to drive to your job, which happened to be where you had met him. You ran a small thrift store just walking distance from your apartment. There had been no need to drive anywhere, until you opened up another branch on the other side of town.

You had met Spencer there, he had come in at night, just before close. He shopped around for a few sweater vests and cardigans until you had told him that you needed to close. His mumbled apology had been so cute you remember it to this day.

When he noticed that you walked home in the same direction as his, he offered to keep you company. At first you thought he had done it out of guilt since he made you stay late, until you realized he liked your presence. It was not a romantic relationship (not yet at least), you both didn’t kiss or anything, but you did love to tease him.

He cared about you, and you about him, which is why he eagerly offered to teach you to drive when you mentioned that you were scared to learn with an instructor. You preferred to be taught by someone who you knew and knew was a good driver. Spencer was just that, even with jittery fingers and tapping feet.

Since then you had become a great driver, good enough that you felt confident indulging in one of your dreams. You had always wanted a motorcycle, the wind blowing in your face and the freeing quality it had, had always made you desire one. Despite Spencer’s protests about the potential for even more safety hazards than a car you still indulged your dream, confident in your skills that Spencer had laid the foundation with his excellent teaching skills even while slightly fearful.

You had taken to it like a fish to water, it had been even easier than when you had Spencer teach you. Now it was the time to show the master how the apprentice approved, though you highly doubted Spencer liked to be called a master at driving. More like a teacher, a nervous one.

It did take some convincing for him to agree to ride on your motorcycle with you.Somehow, through gentle persuasion throughout the last few months, you had done it. He had prefaced it saying that it would be the only time it would ever happen, and you made it your goal to change his opinion. You highly doubted he’d ever want to drive it, which was fair considering he couldn’t stop the thoughts of statistics about safety in his head. You hoped though, that maybe he’d like riding with you.

“Is it safe?” Was his first question as soon as he arrived at your small thrift store you owned, jittery with nerves.

“Well- hello to you too.” You sassed cocking your hip to the side while holding your helmet in the small of your waist. He blushed bashfully, then finally said hello before you assured him, “I wouldn’t be bringing you if it wasn’t safe- I wouldn’t be driving it if it wasn’t safe.”

“Ok- I trust you.” He relaxed a little, though he was obviously still nervous.

To cheer him up a little you pivoted the conversation onto a more jovial topic, “Will you wear a leather jacket?”

“Maybe next time- if you convince me to get on the death trap again.” It was rare to see Spencer tease you back, but you thoroughly enjoyed it.

Quipping back you said, “Maybe I could get you to drive it too”

“I think I’d need training wheels for that.” A snort came out of you at that; it was funny imagining Spencer riding a motorcycle with bicycle training wheels.

“That would be a sight to see.” You swung your leg on to mount the vehicle, ready to take him on a spin. You then prompted him while getting your helmet on, “Come on pretty boy, let’s do this- and get that helmet on.”

He was a little nervous just going by the shaking in his palms, but he still put the helmet on and climbed on- albeit a bit awkwardly.

He wrapped his hands around your waist snugly when you roared the motorcycle to life. Whenever you had to break he clenched tighter, maybe not enough to leave bruises, but enough that it would be implanted in your memory for a good long while. You couldn’t see him, but you could feel him.

You could tell he had slowly relaxed a little bit more even while keeping a strong grip on you as you made your looped path charted out in your head. Starting at your store and ending at your store, it was longer than maybe it should have been, considering Spencer’s grip on you had made your arousal spark to life.

You soon realized you weren’t the only one enjoying this, feeling something slightly stiff as Spencer shifted slightly at a red light. Oh, he was enjoying it. His cock confined in his pants was growing harder as the journey progressed.

“Did you have fun?” You questioned just as you pulled back into where you started, even though you already knew he did.

He squeaked out a measly, “Yeah!”

You smirked again, out of sight from his face. Biting your inner cheek in thought, you contemplated whether or not to act on it. It would be so easy to just swivel your hips and begin to grind down on his erection that had been pressing into you during the whole ride.

Fuck it, this might be one of your only chances to make a move. You tilted your hips just a smidge, leaning back just a little into him. You heard a hitch in his breath, his hands he had around you tightening back around you, pulling you in closer.

He whimpered when you sat back a little more, testing the waters just a little further. When he himself rolled his own hips once you had to ask, “Do you want me to keep going, Spencer? Do you want this?”

His helmeted head dropped into the crook of your neck, nodding into it as he began to rock into you a little. You gripped around the handles that you were still holding, all you had done was break so far. You were both in broad daylight perched on top of the vehicle. Turning your head as much as you could when you realized he hadn’t verbally responded you prompted sharply, “I need you to speak up, pretty boy. Do you want this?”

“Yes!” He gasped quickly at your prompt.

You then ground yourself back onto his bulge, rotating yourself slowly to feel the torturous friction. The fact that your bottom halves were still clothed only made it even more devastating. No one was around as it was the weekend, when you weren’t open and no one was really around. You still tried to stifle any noises you were tempted to make as his own hips started to undulate into your own.

A person could round the corner and immediately see two people grinding like teenagers onto each other. You both may have been completely closed, but it was quite obvious what you were both doing.

The extra friction you were getting was building a burning orgasm in you, the noises you had been trying to hold back were too hard to stifle. A moan came out of your mouth when Spencer moved down his hands from your waist to the outside of your hips, pulling you down on him with even more ferocity.

When his phone then began to ring you both let out a groan, your hips stopping any movement you had been making over his hard bulge. He reluctantly pulled out his ringing and buzzing ancient phone. Which you would normally find endearing that he carried around somewhat arcane technology, but your weaning arousal was wanting you to smash it on the ground.

“Hello? Hotch?” You groaned, knowing exactly what this meant. There was no way this was going to go further tonight, Hotch wasn’t calling him on the weekend just for paperwork. He was about to leave for a case.

You ripped your helmet off of your head out of frustration while he continued to talk. Grumbling while wiping the sweat that had started to accumulate, Spencer chattering away quickly at Hotch telling him he’ll be there in about ten minutes.

When he got off the phone he began to stammer in apology, this was the only time I’d ever want to cut him off, “There’s no need to apologize- go catch a bad guy.”

“Thank you- and thanks for-r the ride and- um the other thing… I’ve got to go now, I’ll uh- talk to you later.” He then awkwardly shuffled off, trying to conceal his obvious bulge even though you were the only one around to see it.

When he got into his car, you were happy he had brought it for once. You wouldn’t have let him walk all the way to his office from here, and you would have had to drive him with his bulge pressing into your ass again.

“I’m gonna need a cold shower.” You added, mumbled underneath your back as you put your helmet back on, ready to drive back to your apartment to hopefully freeze your frustration away.

—-

The next time you saw him- about a week later, a little blush immediately graced his cheeks, probably thinking about what happened last time. You kissed his cheek and felt how hot they had gotten just by being in his presence. He was here again, early this time, ready for you to open up your shop for the day.

“You’ve got to wait 30 minutes until you can buy something, I don’t open till then,” You then flashed a smirk towards him, he might die from being overheated if you kept teasing him. Still, you continued to do it, “Can’t be seen to show you any favors, pretty boy. Then everyone would want one.” As soon as the keys turned to unlock you didn’t open the door right away, instead turning back to face him. He fidgeted even more underneath your direct gaze, also averting his eyes. You let go of your hold on the keys, bit your lip and added, “Though, I think you’d be the only one I’d want to be my favorite.

He stuttered a bit at that, before changing the subject, “Um- I came here to actually thank you for last week… I had a lot of fun.”

You then cocked your head to the side in question, “Didn’t you already thank me last time?”

“Yeah.” He responded meekly, clearing his throat a few times while he collected his thoughts. “Can we finish what we started?”

You beamed, as it had been exactly what you were hoping for. You made your way back over to him, this time to pull him by the front of his shirt to press a steaming kiss to his lips. He moaned, letting your tongue run over his teeth a few times before you deepened it further. You were panting by the time you released him, but worked through the gasping breaths to answer verbally now, “Of course- come inside with me. If you won’t go on another ride with me after this while wearing a leather jacket, I’ve got a leather jacket you can wear while I ride you.”

Ask Me Anything

—-

Tag lists (fill out this form to join):

All Works: @shotarosleftpinky @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @spenxerslut @boxofsparklingmuses @katexrichardson@takeyourleap-of-faith

All MGG characters: @muffin-cup @willowrose99 @princesssmooshie @peterpanouat @anaagraceeberr @ashcakes1918 @reid-me-a-story @cosmic-psychickitty

Spencer Reid/CM: @calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss @spenxerslut @onlyhereforthefanfics @jareauswifey @princesssmooshie @peterpanouat

Sub Spencer: @thatsonezesty13 @pastathighs @virtualpeanutartisanjudge @calm-and-doctor @princesssmooshie @peterpanouat

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler smut #matthew gray gubler x reader #mgg #mgg x reader #30 fics in 30 days

124 notes · View notes

temporoom · 3 years ago

Text

Okay, I am... only half through episode 4 of The Case Study of Vanitas and I have... so many questions on how they choose to budget cut some scenes and the direction of others. So I had to stop to write it down before I forget.

The explanation of Babel at the beginning was what I expected to happen. And it was well done, so it’s cool. But... like... the... the teacher sounds suspicious in ways he shouldn’t... I have goosebumps just thinking about it. (”My~ cute~ little~ kitten~ Mon chaton~” I’m calling FBI)

They completely took away the mention that Noé was an orphan, which is fine, they can say it later... But since the walk isn’t there, in the end, Domi never has to explain to Vanitas that (while that might be a fetish of her maybe) the collar is mostly made to not lose Noé. Which make the whole ordeal more acceptable for him.

I like that they showed Vanitas listening outside of the changing carriage/room (special mention to Murr who looks at him like “got thirdweeled buddy?”)... I did not expect... the moans... of the two over his face... It’s probably what happened, but my heart wasn’t ready. (Vanitas be there like “Do... Do I have to hear it or is it optional?”) (Also it really makes it seem like Domi is noisy on purpose so Vanitas would hear... Or maybe it’s just my Vannoé heart speaking)

Damn girl your hair FLOATS (I appreciate the well animated ass though, just personal preferences)

I like how they show how Noé got lost. I know the far-away shots annoy most people, but honestly, this one was good. Though I do wish we had a close up on Noé telling Vanitas he sees Domi as a friend. (also the whole area looks like a fancy theater and I love it)

NOW THIS IS WHY I’M MAKING THIS POST. When Vanitas enters Domi’s room, the door closes behind him, and we see her collection of torture items... But where are the women accompanying her in the room? Because later we see Vanitas on the wheel but... who attached him? Did... did he just complied to being attached? IS IT HIS KINK?! I NEED ANSWERS BONES.

They do my boy Luca so dirty each time he is on screen. Like... The thought of putting just a little of the budget in him never crossed their minds he is... so poorly animated. Don’t even have close-ups. I’m sorry Luca, you don’t deserve this. The only who respects you is your VA. (ALSO WTF WERE THOSE MASKS ON HIS GUARDS LIKE WHAT)

From then on, you can appreciate my reactions as the episode goes:

I understand the will to make something original artistically... But I do not accept the knife throwing while she has her back to him. Actually, no, I do not accept her turning her back to him, She doesn’t trust him, he is a danger, she should be facing him. (Also I know it’s actually more logical that they are both alone to talk about the vampire of the blue moon... BUT STILL WHO ATTACHED HIM)

That fall was soft for someone who just got off a rolling wheel or whatever this is called.

That... fall was off for someone who threw themselves with their back to the ground. You wouldn’t have as much control over where you land, and that chandelier was pretty far. I know it’s for the manga shot, but like showing him throw himself, then turning around would have been more logic I think. I don’t know anything about physics though. I am nitpicking.

That book animation... yes... I see... IT’S TO CUT BUDGET COST.

WHY DO THEY ALL LOOK GOOD EXCEPT LUCA PLEASE.

OH GOD LUCA GOT HIS FIRST GOOD SHOT THANK GOODNESS

Last episode : Let’s put all the budget in the first half. This episode : let’s put all the budget in the second half.

They finally fixed Luca’s bodyguards masks ! T-T ONLY FOR THEM TO BE KILLED

Veronica, using the same frames as her appearance, because having a mask is nice to reduce budget cost.

I really like the biting scene being intertwined with Noé’s fighting scene. It’s what it is: a fight against the desire to drink blood. It’s a nice touch. It... It do last 3 seconds too much, in my own opinion (but it’s only 3 seconds), but I won’t complain when I have new records for my erotic asmr. I had to stop writing just to appreciate it.

Each time I see a Vanitas/Jeanne scene I am reminded of how much the VA’s ship them and I smile. They must be soooooo happy to be able to do all of this and I’m happy for them. (Natsuki Hanae is a huge fan of Jeanne)

I need to say it again, the direction for the second half was perfect. The two scenes intertwined, insisting on the urgency feeling of it, the pink sky (I know some saw it purple, I see it pink) to represent... love or Jeanne one of the two, the amazing fight scenes between Noé and the Charlatans, Natsuki Hane’s moans, Luca finally getting some recognition... It was amazing. But it does make me question how the director prepares their script, because they clearly have a vision of certain scenes, but because of that, forces the other ones to be smashed together for that one particular scene to work. It’s kind of disappointing and annoying, for now it’s fine, but on the long run it’ll be tiring.

Conclusion of this episode : DID VANITAS ATTACHED HIMSELF ON THE WHEEL?! and now I have a bunch of new records for... personal reasons.

Now I’m going to watch the french dub for the second episode, see ya !

#vanitas no carte #vanitas no shuki #the case study of vanitas #les mémoires de vanitas #vnc

27 notes · View notes

tea-toast · 4 years ago

Text

Echoylir Ch.1 - The Mechanic

Summary: A new planet, a new bounty.

Words: 2.7k

Notes: just bullshitting my way through a hypothetical post Season 2 episode. Hope it’s liked despite not being a reader insert.

Warnings: references to canon-typical violence

AO3

……………

Steel-toothed termites had been chewing on Telseraal’s barren soil, almost to its lava and flame core for decades, eagerly eroding its crust to prick deep metal veins or scratch precious stones in their wake. Miners’ greed, snouting under the surface with their sharp drills in search of infamous Aurodium or even Chromium clusters because they’ve been hearing about it, despite no reliable source or findings of such valuable metals underneath their feet.

This was what had brought Telseraal to its capitulation, legends that had swelled with detail after being passed from mouth to mouth, from ear to ear attracting prospectors, miners, scoundrels and swindlers, desperate people lured by the illusion of richness. Decades of drilling, digging tunnels like feverish ants; smashing stones with blunt pickaxes, fingernails bleeding, hands blistering, faces blackening and lungs frying with dust and soot as even the Mining Collective took an interest in the riches. Scattering away anybody who would question their methodology, imposing their supremacy on the mines through blaster rifles and fear. Some sort of rapacity had sunk its talons within all these souls, narrowed all these minds to one thought, one desire.

Meanwhile, another type of infestation had begun spreading all around the ever deeper and larger holes littering Telseraal. Hot furnaces, sparks and screeching, casting of metal upon the desolate surface, from makeshift beds to shiny sharp constructions facing the abyss. A dusty dome covering the sky above mining cities, puffing out from the hellhole awaiting deep down in the bowel of this cursed planet. Heavy and massive bastions of greed and sin and abuse, they stood. Throbbing horribly, parasites clinging, sucking their fill as the planet around it thinned, split by sores, wounds large enough to be seen from the cold outer space as ships entered the atmosphere and descended into this clanging sooty Hell.

He could see small particles dancing all around as he initiated the landing sequence. Small fake fireflies not dispensing light, but rather a somewhat irritating reddish fog. Some had even managed to get into the cockpit, probably from the ventilation system. Now, that was a hassle he would rather not address, the courtesy ship Peli had given him was already a leaky wreak without a dust malfunction needed.

A heavy sigh heaved from his chest, a little air escaping from under the rim of his helmet and starting the particles in yet another dance. With a curt head movement, his visor curved towards the onboard radar to fix on the dot lazily flashing on it, showing him the way to his assigned hanger. His glove slowly lifted to move towards one of the levers, the shape of it still unknown around his fingers despite it being quite some time since he got the ship. Of course, he could have picked up the credits to buy one, but at the same time, he preferred to keep a certain distance from the concept of “owning” a ship after what happened to the Crest. At least for some time, he had told himself, till the searing sadness and tiredness still creeping under his beskar would rear their ugly heads, burying themselves deep within his soul.

That was why he had returned to taking jobs, for money of course but also for the distraction.

Maker only knew how much distraction he needed. He still would try pushing buttons his current ship did not have, searching for a lever this model did not own.

Out of sheer habit.

And out of sheer habit, maybe even desperate hope he would sometimes still turn around on his right, thinking to find a second seat. Hoping to find it taken.

Little green feet poking out of his onesie, while bright eyes were focused on his favourite shiny toy as he made it levitate over his tiny hands. No more coos, or squeaks or needy gurgling because he was hungry. No more big green pointy ears peaking up and high-pitched contented babbles as he called him by his name.

There was no second seat on his right, and no kid to sit on it.

The durasteel ball now carefully stashed in the recesses of one of his pockets, under his armour. Like a relic, a precious treasure, a spherical box of memories he had been holding onto. To be cradle only by him between his fingers as he wished to be able to cradle the very child he was missing so much, feeling his comforting weight on his hip, his tiny claws brushing his glove in a familiar gesture of comfort.

Wiser than a child, frailer than a fifty-year-old, his ad’ika.

The now missing member of his clan of two.

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

The white gleam of the hangar brought him out of his thoughts. A rush of statics in his comms directing him towards his designated landing station as the ship lowered down with groans and stutters.

Despite his dexterous wrist on the level, the jolt the ship gave as it touched the ground made him jerk in his seat and curse under his breath. His lungs filled up with air once more, to be then exhaled in what could have both sounded like a long-suffering sigh or maybe a way to relax the nerves creeping below his skin. Nimble fingers pushing buttons and switching everything off, before standing up from the pilot seat. His back and joints and knees popping loudly under the beskar, the echo of it swallowed up by his heavy footing leaving the cockpit to get his weapons.

With his reluctance to get his own ship, some of his habits had changed, even in the artillery department, far lighter and with less hoarding and cataloguing, what sufficed to take care of the business he was there for and to not have his ass being handled. The rest he had been able to gather was stashed away in a locker at Peli’s.

With his jet-pack on his shoulders and his trusty blaster secured in its holster on his right hip, he went looking for the ramp handle. He had to flex his arm and grip the lever tightly to get the rusty mechanism in motion and the ramp to lower with a racket of grating and metallic rasping. A reddish-hued light slowly shedding a beacon within the cramped interior of the vessel, as dust and soot crept inside slipping into whatever crack and cranny they could find.

The ramp came halfway down when it jammed with a loud thud, worn joints refused to slip and gears got stuck in their rotations. His shoulders stiffened under the pauldrons of his armour as he proceeded to pull the ramp lever a second time. The ramp lifted slightly and then fell back halfway with a lurk that shook the whole ship and nearly knocked him off balance.

"Dank farrik!" he cursed under his breath, gloved fingers rolling into fists. He wanted so badly to kick one of the ramp joints until it lowered properly, just to let off some of the steam that has been dangerously teetering beneath his skin. Despite his destructive eagerness, he thought against it. Instead, his boots carried him to the plane edge and with a poised leap, he stepped off the ship.

Panels, fried C-boards, scraps and rusted components littered the dusty ground while a strong smell of oil slithered past the helmet rim to hit his nostrils. The hangar was nothing like Peli's and less equipped than expected. Far less equipped than a proper hangar or mechanic post would have been.

And quiet.

The hair at the base of his neck stood up under his neck seal, his senses sharpened even more than they already were.

He didn't like the place at all.

Right hand readily close to his holster, electricity running through his fingertips, he glanced around, tried to spot any source of danger. Attempting to make as little noise as possible, he took a couple of steps, the soles of his boots creaking on the dusty ground.

The sudden whirring noise on the left reached his ear, blaster whipped out as quick as a viper striking. Firm grip and index finger stroking the trigger as his focus zoned in on what had caused that noise.

A beaten up WED Treadwell repair droid wheeled in from a corner, its various tool-tipped appendages dangling around it as long metallic spidery legs. His aim remained focused on the droid, and he barely unacknowledged the footsteps following its buzzing.

“Whoa, hey!”

Only at that did his attention shoot towards the direction of the voice, his blaster only slightly lowered down.

Standing there was someone a whole head shorter than him wearing baggy overalls.

“Uhm, hello there.” she greeted at a safe distance, raising her hands a bit to show that she was not armed, “I’d much appreciate if you’d stop aiming at my Treadwell. Y’know, it’s fragile and it’d be difficult to get my hands on a decent replacement here.”

Despite the rush of adrenaline still thrumming under his skin, he did comply. His arm lowered and his blaster got stashed away, T visor now trained on the rather human-looking woman in front of him.

She didn’t sound as he expected, she did not possess the sardonic tone he had come to expect of a mechanic. Instead, she seemed mellow and only a little bit on edge due to potential property damage and armed stranger in her hangar. She had a hint of an accent he couldn't properly place. Dark eyes studied him, probably to be sure he would not lash out again as she approached. “I got other droids back there, are you gonna greet them as you did with Treadwell? Just to know.” She did not sound accusing, rather she seemed to be trying to lift the mood after the tension

“Sorry.” he gruffed through his vocoder, his threatening aura slowly fading into awkwardness, “Not fond of droids.”

She replied with a “uhm” sound as she eventually made up her mind he was a threat no more and step towards his ship with a more secure gait. “Then droids will have no business regarding your ship, Mandalorian.” she quipped, gazing over the vessel and its rather desolate appearance.

“Thanks.” he rasped while watching her walking over to the half-lowered ramp and after a cursory glance resting her elbow and arm on the plane edge as she turned to look at him.

“So,” her demeanour now quite open, “how may I serve you?” the shadow of a smile morphed on her mouth, rounding her cheeks out for a second.

He rolled his shoulders and pointed at the ship with a tilt of his helmet, “Need whatever you can do to make this thing fly back home without falling apart.”

Her eyes followed his head movement, but went back looking at him shortly afterwards, “Home being where?”

He could feel her attentive glance scanning him, studying him and maybe trying to understand what was his deal. He planted his feet a little more firmly on the ground and instinctively squared up. It looked like she could tell he was getting defensive, her barely-there smile did not falter and she shrugged, “Just to tell you if you’re better off without it from the start.”

Begrudgingly, he had to admit to himself she had a point asking. She was a mechanic after all.

“Tatooine.” clipped his baritone from under the helmet.

“Ah, I see. I might be able to patch it up,” was her reply as she took out a diagnostic device from her overalls belt and aimed it at the metal surface of the ship. “Somehow,” she mumbled shortly after, looking to the rather poor screen readings.

“Do whatever you can.” he fished some credits from under his armour and extended his arm toward her, “Do these cover me?”

She took the handed credits and gave them a casual count before nodding, “Yeah, it should.” She squinted her eyes as the sun crept in from the hangar’s upper opening and bounced on his shiny chest plate.

“Good.” he wasted no time saying, “I need to get to Jantoo. How far is it?”

“Uhm, by foot?” she hummed as she pocked the credits and hanged her device to her belt, eyebrows raised high on her forehead.

“Yes.”

“Jantoo’s not that far from here, but I don’t recommend venturing by foot,” she huffed while passing him and rearranging some flying strands of dark hair in the low bun pawing at her neck, “it’s quite the rough route. Even for a Mandalorian.”

“Is it?” he inquired then, hands on his hips and a half-amused half huffy edge in his sigh.

“Mark my word.” she nodded while giving him her back and busing herself with a mechanic kit. She rummaged around, clanging of metal resonating within the hangar walls.

He was about to just leave and getting in motion to get to Jantoo as quickly as possible despite her warnings when she peeped in again, “You can use my old speeder if you want,” and she pointed at the outline in the far corner of the hangar, “Faster and safer than by foot. Beskar and muscle may not be enough outside in the dust bowls.” Grabbing her tools and spinning around on her soles, she sprinted back to the ship.

Under his watchful gaze, she diligently placed the kit on the half-lowered ramp and then hoisted herself up with a low grunt. Her hands grabbing and stashing screwdrivers, scanners, mechtorches in her overalls pockets, a flashlight with a strap secured to her forehead. She switched the light on and off a couple of times. “Good,” she chirped, “batteries have not oxidised for once.”

While she was strapping in to get to work on that wreck of a vessel, he was considering her offer. That was pretty on-brand for planets he had visited. The only thing holding him back from accepting without complaint was the thought of what happened to Peli’s speeder last time. He didn't want to deprive someone of a means of transportation, especially knowing that he might not return it whole to them.

He had yet to realise, this entire consideration had been going on in his head while in the meantime he had been silent while staring at the mechanic scrambling around inside his ship. He noticed her giving him a pointed look from behind her shoulder as she was touching around to find the control panel in charge of the ramp mechanism.

“How much would that cost me?” he eventually inquired, hand already searching his pocket.

She made a face at that, “What, do you think I’d charge you for that piece of junk?” She was met with silence, his visor not moving from her.

An incredulous chuckle bubbled up from her chest, “Put those credits away, Mandalorian. I’m not charging you more, I’m not a leech.”

His pocket rummaging stopped at that. Well, at least she did not look like being attached to it...

“Here,” a good-natured sigh, fingers digging in one of the small pouches on her chest, her feet carried her to the ramp edge and her arm stretched toward him, an old rusty ignition key in her hand.

He glanced at it for a split of a second, before taking it between his gloved thumb and forefinger, “Thanks.” he gave a short nod.

She reciprocated his head movement, “Have a nice trip.” and she then stepped back into the ship shadows.

His helmet lowered to give the key in his hand another look, already turning around to go get the speeder bike when her voice broke the silence yet again, halting him in his tracks.

“Oh by the way,” her head poked out from the ship guts, “name’s Trisso. Nice to meet you.” and she flashed him her ever-present smile before retreating once again.

A grin tickled the edge of his mouth under the helmet at her laid back behaviour and the fact that they both almost forgot introductions, but soon he could feel his shoulders tensing up, and he deeply sighed once more. He had a job to do. Business to take care of.

Key in hand, he fully pivoted around and walked toward the damn dusty speeder in the corner.

#the mandalorian #star wars #din djarin #the mandalorian fic #star wars fic #rogue one #star wars rogue one #chirrut imwe #baze malbus #baze x chirrut #chirrutbaze #rogue one fic #rogue one: a star wars story #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal characters

41 notes · View notes

xaori · 3 years ago

Text

Take me home

Just a little something I wrote for a prompt :) Turned out to be kindofasongfic. Inspiration at the end of this post. If this could end in Cleon or not depends on your own desires :) Have fun! *****

Would you take the wheel

if I lose control?

If I’m lying here,

Will you take me home?

The music came so loud from the speakers that she didn’t even hear the honking cars around her anymore. Nothing better than thrumming pop music to drown your sorrows in. Oh, and booze. Booze worked pretty well, too.

But right now, the entire world was spinning and it wasn’t just the alcohol’s fault anymore. Her life was over. It had stopped the moment the news of Chris’ sudden, tragic and brutal death had rolled in. Maybe, dear reader, you find it sad to hear that Claire Redfield, at the age of thirty-seven, had nothing more to rely on than her older brother, but it happened to be that she had always loved and admired him so intensely that his absence had left a void of feelings inside her chest. Now, she only noticed nothingness and dark in the spot where she’d always located her heart, about two inches left from where it actually was.

Two weeks had passed. Two long and lamentful weeks without Chris. Everybody had told her that space would make it better and time would make it heal, but—surprise!—they had been wrong! The pain remained and her will to live descended. And there she was now, stoned and desperate, in a car that would most definitely become her tomb.

The foot on the gas pedal pressed a little harder down, and Claire nearly crashed against the side window when the Audi swooshed around the next curve. Her hand rose to her lips to stop the last couple of shots to say hello again. Something sighed to her left.

“You gonna puke?”

She looked to her side, where Leon was holding the steering wheel like a trophy, with great determination and a little arrogance.

“That was not the deal, Claire,” he snorted. “You said you wanted to die, not that you were going to ruin my car. I don’t want my corpse to be found with your vomit all over it.”

She grunted, swallowing the acid bile that was trying to rise.

“I hate you,” she grunted, but it didn’t have the desired effect on the blond—whatever the desired effect was, anyway.

“You said that before. And you’re being an unthankful little brat, Claire Redfield. I’m here to help you. You want to kill yourself? I can do that. You just have to tell me if you prefer to be smashed against the curb or into the mud.”

The car drove into another, sharp curve and Claire thought her stomach was going to explode.

“Stop the car!” she howled, and Leon laughed.

“You sure?” But before he could slam his foot onto the brake, Claire reached for the wheel and. Just. Began. To turn.

“I said stop!”

“Claire, goddamnit!”

Stability became unreal the moment the Audi’s tires lost grip of the roadway’s asphalt and began to jump over a softer ground. Claire felt a scream emerge from her throat when they crashed through something that looked like a white farm fence and the overpriced government vehicle of her friend began to spin. Hand uselessly curled around the fragile seatbelt in search of a hold, she saw her entire life pass by in front of her eyes. She heard Leon’s voice drowned in effort and gasps as he unsuccessfully tried to take control over the car again.

That was it. They’d both die and she’d soon be reunited with Chris again. A terrible idea for some people, but so cradling and comforting to her. However, among all the dirt and dust and unidentified objects that came flying towards them, there was also one single thought:

Not yet, please.

Against all odds, the car stopped in the middle of a meadow. No crashes, no explosions, just the eventual loss of speed and inertia. It was a halt unworthy of Leon Kennedy.

“Hey!” the blond exclaimed after a very short second of calm. “That was fun. Like in the good old days, huh?”

Claire didn’t respond. She pushed the door open and poured the contents of her stomach down onto the grass on her side of the car.

“Better?” Leon asked when she curled back into the seat, and she rewarded him with a nod and a look through glassy eyes. “Good. You need another ride or are we done playing suicidal now?”

Claire wiped her mouth, exhaustion filling every single spot of her.

“I’m done. Thank you, Leon,” she said and smiled weakly, the idea of living growing in her chest. "Will you take me home now?”

Returning her smile, he nodded.

“Anytime.”

youtube

#resident evil fanfiction #Claire Redfield #Leon Kennedy #songfic #xaori-writes #tumblr exclusive post

6 notes · View notes

urlocalbunny · 4 years ago

Note

Hello ! I hope you passed the exams you took. I am happy to be able to reapply. My question about boys is this : let's say the boys and Eloise can go to an amusement park at night. Wich amusement would the boys prefer ? (Ferris Wheel, ghost train, roller coaster) Have a good day or a good evening !

This headcanon was ready and I tried to post it but tumblr was hungry and ate it. I'm really upset and sorry for the delay but i got upset and took some time from it~

Aaron:

He likes the Ferris wheel and the games where you get prizes🥺.

As in Aaron is not vocal about any toys they go in until the ride begins. He's not boring, boy has good conversation and he CAN flirt.

He laughs and yells normally like everyone else, of course, but he's fine with whatever and he only cares about kissing Eloise and eating churros until his cheeks are chubby. Until...

I want one ticket, please." He grabs the water gun and shoots the targets easily, handing Eloise a big wolf plushie, blinking his eye and smiling as in "it's a secret, but I'm giving this to you because I am an actual wolf. Nice, huh?"

Eloise is full of bags and Things She Said "I Want It" And She Got Them™, then he looks up.

"I like the ferris wheel." Eloise runs to buy tickets and tackles people to get them if it's over. No regrets. Her man wants ferris wheel.

As soon as his feet are off the ground, he dangles them and giggles. "That's so nice. Does your tummy feel cold?"

When they're watching the view from above, Aaron sighs longingly while he looks at the forest and the manor. Then he turns to her and his little eyes are shining uuuugh. "I'm so glad I met you, my beloved."

The day ends with a sweet, heartfelt kiss and a hug.

Raphael:

He likes the rollercoaster. The worse it is, the funnier it feels. Spinning around and feeling the wind whip your face while you can't see a thing is freaking crazy!!!!!

He squeezes Eloise's hand while they tighten the security bars and his head spins while the cart approaches the peak. And then.

"ELOISE, HOLY FU-" "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH" and they fall into oblivion. He laughs his ass off while everyone screams in horror, and he throws his arms around as he feels himself being driven upside down and sideways until he has to gasp for air and his legs feel funny because that's just So. Much. Fun.

Eloise is yelling like crazy and praying for people he doesn't know in languages he doesn't know and he doubts that exist. She cursed a lot and for a moment he felt her hand squeeze his chest while trying to find support. He was red all over from so much laughter.

"RAPHAEL, ARE YOU OKAY?" he hears Ivan yell in the front, probably from the spot they waited on. He yelled back as much as he could before speaking.

"THIS PARTICULAR TOY IS INCREDIBLE AS FU-" "HELP ME YOU SILLY BATS"

He stepped down with a bounce on his step, Eloise by his side, grasping his arm for dear life. He heard the others approach them as he smiled.

"you said fuck."

"I would never say foul things. Eloise won't let me. ||("

Beliath:

He loves the scary rides with the cart. He sits on it and he pats his side so Eloise can climb uncertainly. She huffs. "You're gonna yell so quick. Gosh."

"BWAH" "UAAAAAAAAAAAAAH." "And that's on being such a liar."

The ride begins smoothly and so does Beliath, holding her hand and kissing her in the darkness, trying to play it cool and saying he will protect her of the ghosts and then the cardboard ghosts fall off the ceiling.

"I'M LEAVING. I'M LEAVING. DON'T TALK TO ME!" He holds Eloise close as she sighs, leaning into her seat.

"tell me how can a literal demon be scared of cardboard. I guess a moron will always be a moron." "Don't talk to me like that! That was scary and nothing prompted it. The next one won't be scary because I know."

After a good bit of screams and Eloise being squeezed like a pillow, they finally seemed to be ending their ride. However, one of the poor actresses let her plastic eyeball fall from her forehead and it went rolling near the carts. She went to get it, but Beliath noticed her.

Seeing a running monster with a hand over their third eye yelling "WAIT!" wasn't really good for his heart. He hopped out of the cart and left running and screaming a high-pitched sound.

The result was Eloise laughing her ass off in the cart while the others waited with confused faces. Ethan would never let this die. They're immortal.

Vladimir:

Baby likes the bumper cars so much! He'll spend his WHOLE TIME there if he can.

Every time he crashes he starts laughing heartily. Tries not to crash with all his might tho, just to annoy Eloise.

"Your car is supposed to crash!" "Too bad it does not, right?" "You'll see!"

He becomes a child, smiling like a little rascal as he races through the other cars and Eloise crashes behind him. His eyes glimmer when Eloise laughs behind him and mocks his long legs perched up on the toy.

He even has the odd urge to mock the boys waiting near the toy. Aaron curses back and laughs a booming laughter while Beliath covers his face with his hair trying not to laugh too loudly. Ethan looks grossed out and Ivan is already red and crying of laughter.

After a good chase, he turns his car the wrong way on purpose and smashes against Eloise's car, making her yell. They laugh together for a while but soon they make up a plan to smash everyone's cars >:).

They end up crashing against everyone at least once before the ride is over. The others look at him quizzically only to be met with the usual Vladimir. "What is it? Is something the matter?"

When they begin to walk home that night, Vladimir stayed behind with Eloise and held her hand, giggling as if they had a secret to hide. His pearly white teeth shone under the gaps on the tree branches. He winked at her, skipping home.

Ethan:

HEAR ME OUT I'VE HAD THIS IN MY DRAFTS FOR FOUR MONTHS I PROMISE. I'll paste this here.

The others go in another rides and he lifts his index finger to his lips and smirks, raising his other hand with the palm up. She looks back at the group in line for a roller coaster, but she holds his hand instead. She's his chalice anyway, they should try to get along more even if they were friends already.

Ethan runs through the crowd practically dragging Eloise, first to a churros tent and then to a less noisy place that was up a few flights of stairs. The guy stops skipping and walks slowly until they're in line for another toy that doesn't seem full of people yet.

"What is this? It's high, isn't it?" She asks with concern, eyeing him suspiciously. He shrugs, rolling his eyes and smiling as if she didn't know about real fun at all. "This, little pest, is a Flying Coaster."

"Why is it called like that?" "You'll see when we're on it." He says as he pays for the ride this time. They get up in it and he's practically buzzing. Eloise notices he hid the churros on his coat and when the security employee moves back to her place, the cart leans forward. She gulps. "Ethan, why are we looking at the floor?" "Chewrrows?" "You're chewing churros in out deathchairs?" "Nuish One, haha!"

The toy starts Actually Moving™. She then realizes they were a little higher up as her finger grazes the top of a tree three times her size. Then it's too late. "SON OF A- UAAAAAAH!"

Ethan laughs like he didn't in a long while and watches the moon from the highest point in the roller coaster while gulping down his churros as Eloise curses and kicks. At some point they look down and see Beliath's terrified eyes staring at them as Eloise curses at them too. "YOU FREAKING CLOOOOOOOOOowns!"

When they get down from the toy, he thinks Eloise will be mad and regrets his decision, but then she leans into his arm and starts laughing. Her hair ia disheveled and she grabbed his other churro (it was for her don't let him trick you) with the prettiest smile he had seen in a while.

"... Suddenly I feel weird. The roller coaster made me nauseous, let's get the fuck out of here." "I think it's your heart, Ethan-" "Shut up, you demon."

Ivan:

He likes easy rides, don't @ me. Eloise is in the amusement park with him, he won't go apeshit like he did before. He must be... CaReFuL wItH HeR. But with a little coaxing, he mumbles that he likes the Twister Rollercoaster and Eloise digs completely.

He jumps like a little kid twice and pays to enter, sitting close to her. Since it's kind of late, the front seat is just the two of them. He looks at her tenderly and holds her hand. "Will you be fine, babe?" "Yeah, don't worry about it."

The ride begins to move and Ivan kicks around a little and squeals. Eloise giggles, holding his hand as best as she can. He squeezes back, smiling like that made his whole year better.

As soon as the carts begin to go down the line, he yells in excitement and lifts his hands, looking at Eloise. She's just as excited, screaming in joy as the carts spin around. He wished he could take a picture of Eloise looking like a pineapple with her hair upside down.

"you look like a pineapple!" "Don't make me tell you how you look, please!" They laugh at some woman yelling a funny sentence and screech when the cart seems like it's going to derail in the dip. A camera flashes several times during the loop and he thanks the gods above for that.

When they make it back, Aaron is tapping his foot on the floor. "You both could've flies into space!" "You don't mean that. Look." He lifts the picture of Eloise with red luminous eyes and a ominous smile while Ivan straight up yells towards the camera, both upside down and with their hair messy.

The picture gets framed by Vladimir. Eloise isn't allowed to take it off by votes.

#moonlight lovers #moonlight lovers headcanons #sfwbunny #ml ethan #ml aaron #ml beliath #ml raphael #ml vladimir #ml Ivan #bunny's writing #moonlight lovers fanfiction

42 notes · View notes

plumoh · 4 years ago

Text

[SK8] at all times, at all sides

Rating: T

Word count: 7409

Summary: Kaoru is shaped by the choices he makes and the people surrounding him. And through the years, Kojirou was there in one way or another.

Note: AO3 link. This was posted a while after Kaoru’s birthday, as a character study of sorts, birthday by birthday. I make the assumption that in the present day, Kaoru and Kojirou are 27-28 years old.There is a brief mention of alcohol at age 20, and Kaoru is a bit drunk at age 26.

15.

Kaoru gets two additional piercings on his left ear on his fifteenth birthday.

The first one, at what is considered a normal place for an earring in the middle of the earlobe, was done as an impulsive act of brashness to show off to his friends at school at the beginning of the year. He likes the attention. The family name attached to him makes people gasp when they see him with holes in his ear, but he would be lying if he said it didn’t bring him some sort of satisfaction. It’s kind of ridiculous and entirely too stiff an attitude to be offended by some nails stuck into someone else’s skin, as if it changes who he fundamentally is. Besides, piercings are cool.

So Kaoru gets two additional piercings, a helix piercing and another one in the earlobe, and Kojirou whistles.

“You sure your parents won’t cut off your entire ear for that?” he asks, his gaze appraising Kaoru’s new look.

“I’ll live with only one ear, then,” Kaoru answers, shrugging. “What do you think? I look cool, right?”

Kaoru gestures to his ear, grinning and looking at Kojirou expectantly. He knows that he must be acting like a child who got permission to eat a second candy after dinner, but it’s his birthday and he feels he can be excited for what is, essentially, a new approach to his lifestyle. He paid for these piercings with his own pocket money (and money earned through foolish bets and challenges, and he’s thankful that most skaters are stupid).

Kojirou hums, his face pinched in intense concentration. Kaoru rolls his eyes.

“That’s a yes or no question, Kojirou.”

“Let me give you a complete review of your new fashion style, impatient bastard,” Kojirou says.

“I don’t need a complete review! They’re just piercings!”

Kojirou always takes forever when asked to give his opinion on any topic, be it about his younger brother’s latest baseball game or the best suited color for a piece of garment Kaoru’s mother has decided to wear for an important meeting. It’s utterly unnecessary and a waste of time—Kaoru isn’t asking Kojirou to write an essay about his piercings.

“Just answer the question,” Kaoru says, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Well, if you like your piercings so much, maybe show them off more?” Kojirou sighs. “I don’t know, you have more hair than any human being is supposed to have. It hides the piercings.”

Kaoru snorts. “Complain to my mother about that.”

But Kaoru entertains the idea.

16.

Keeping his hair long is a simple matter of preference. There is no rule in his family stating that its members should have a specific length of hair, so why not? Very few boys and men have it this long, and Kojirou always asks him why he bothers taking care of such a useless physical feature when all it does is getting into his way when he skates. Kaoru admits he does have a point, but he likes his hair.

Kaoru is currently tying it into a ponytail, lazily skating on the sidewalk around their neighborhood. Kojirou is skating at his side eating an entire soda flavored Garigari-kun popsicle, shoving it into his mouth and crunching into the ice because he likes having brain freeze.

“Hey, it’s your birthday next week,” Kojirou announces, like it’s the most thrilling event of the week. “Did you plan something? Wanna go explore some new skating areas?”

Kaoru flips his hair over his shoulder and shrugs. Kojirou is looking at him curiously, almost intently, and that makes Kaoru raise an eyebrow.

“Nothing special, but it’s also on the same day as some renown calligrapher from Tokyo visiting our studio. So yeah.”

“All the way from Tokyo? That sounds important.”

“Maybe. I didn’t really pay attention.”

Simply thinking about all the formal procedures that will take place in his house and the fact he will have to be on his “best behavior, please, Kaoru” is pissing him off. He’s not interested in hearing about the works of this supposedly famous and talented calligrapher bestowing upon their modest family his knowledge and wise advice. Kaoru doesn’t even know why he still attends the calligraphy lessons when he’s pretty sure he’ll go into computer science or something. His parents are always on his case about maintaining his posture and improving his strokes every day, and at some point Kaoru started obeying to make their noisy demands stop. He doesn’t genuinely hate the art itself; he simply thinks that his time is better spent elsewhere. What does calligraphy have when computers can do much more fascinating stuff?

Kojirou is nibbling at the popsicle stick, eyeing him with that critical look he often gets when he considers throwing paper balls at Kaoru in class, or when he thinks that Kaoru needs a snack to calm down, like some fucking animal he’s trying to tame—Kaoru hates that somehow, food always works.

“You want to ditch?” Kojirou asks as neutrally as possible, but Kaoru hears the sympathy in his voice. Which is appreciated, but unnecessary.

“No, I was actually thinking of scandalizing my parents by cutting my hair and having it cropped short,” Kaoru says with a half-feral grin. “Like, strands of hair sticking everywhere and impossible to make it look presentable.”

Kojirou almost stumbles on his skateboard, even though it’s a straight line and he wasn’t even pushing with his feet on the concrete.

“What?! But you never shut up about your hair!”

“You fucking liar, I only ever say I like having it long!”

“Yeah, that still makes it stupid! Why would you cut your hair if you like it long?”

“Because hair grows again?”

“Not as fast as you’d think, if you even thought about it before blurting out you want to get a bowl cut.”

“Disheveled and rowdy haircut, not a bowl cut, you idiot!”

They make a turn at the corner of the street, expertly avoiding a kid walking her dog and dodging the woman carrying groceries behind her, not without getting scolded for skating in residential areas (or skating at all) but those are words that go in one ear and exit in the other. Kaoru smiles to himself and kicks into the ground to get more speed, jumps and flips his board in the air before landing on it again with minimal risk of smashing his face in the concrete. He lifts a fist in the air with a whooping cry.

“Oh hey, that was a good one!” he exclaims, giving Kojirou a radiant grin.

“You mastered this trick long ago, why are you so excited?” Kojirou grumbles.

“Because it felt nice, that’s all. Be happy about the small things in life, that’s what you keep saying.”

“Sometimes I feel you’re purposely throwing back my words at my face only when it’s convenient for you.”

“I always listen to you, even if it might come as a surprise.”

Kaoru laughs, spinning his board and continuing on a straight line, ahead of Kojirou. Today’s weather is pleasant and he can’t wait for the end of the school year at the end of the week to go skating all day. It will come with more calligraphy practice, but at least he will have time for his other hobbies too. And if he can’t focus on anything at home, he can still go to Kojirou’s place and bother him all day.

“Then don’t cut your hair!” Kojirou shouts, catching up to him.

The lines on Kojirou’s face are weird, all upset and a bit worried, and that’s not an expression Kaoru is used to see when they’re talking about haircuts, of all things. Maybe when they’re doing their geography homework or when they’ve spent one hour practicing tricks and got more bruises than actual results, but not hair.

“What’s up with you?” Kaoru asks, slowing down. “It’s just my hair. It’s a good prank.”

“You’re going to look like a bird’s nest for at least three months, you okay with that?” Kojirou retorts.

“That’s not the worst thing in existence. And if I recall, you told me last year I should show off my piercings more, so having short hair would effectively do that.”

Kojirou groans and drags a hand across his face, almost looking defeated.

“Just style it in a way that makes your piercings visible, then,” Kojirou adds. “You… have nice hair.”

Kaoru blinks. Kojirou looks straight ahead, his posture stiff, determined not to turn his head in Kaoru’s direction.

“I have nice hair,” Kaoru repeats.

“Yes.”

“You don’t want me to cut my hair because it looks nice?”

“Yes.”

“That might be the most honest compliment you’ve ever said to me.”

“Shut up, I’m never complimenting you ever again!”

Kojirou speeds up, but not before Kaoru catches a glimpse of his reddening ears. The situation is starting to make even less sense, but seeing Kojirou so flustered over nothing is piquing Kaoru’s interest and his lips stretch in a wide grin. Kaoru joins Kojirou in their less-than-recommended skating speed.

“Okay, but you’re being weird!” Kaoru shouts over the sound of their wheels scratching against the ground. “Was that an offer to style my hair?”

“I’m not talking to you,” Kojirou mutters.

“You’re the one who suggested it, you can’t drop the topic!”

It’s almost comical to see two teenagers loudly arguing about a pointless subject while skateboarding and avoiding any obstacles they come across, as if being on a board is the same as walking. Passersby shoot them quizzical looks and a lot of adults are clearly not approving their noise level.

They end up skating all the way to the playground near the elementary school of the neighborhood, where a few kids are playing while their parents are watching over them. There is a skating park farther away, but people are already using it and Kaoru doesn’t like skating with people not part of their crew unless he’s looking for a fight. So they keep skating around, at a lower speed because colliding with children won’t exactly look good on either of them.

“Fine, keep being stubborn, you asshole,” Kaoru grumbles. “I’ll get another piercing.”

Kojirou finally jerks his head towards Kaoru, his expression a lot less constipated and more curious. “On such a short notice?”

“I’ll find a way. And even if I can’t get it done before my birthday, it will still be infuriating for my parents.”

Kaoru taps at his lower lip, not missing the way Kojirou’s eyes follow the movement with rapt attention.

“I wanted to get a lip ring, anyway,” he says.

There is something simply enthralling in a lip ring—the light catches on it, and people are immediately in admiration when they see it. Not everyone has the guts to get one, after all.

Kojirou slowly nods, tearing his gaze away from Kaoru’s face.

“If you want,” he says. “I don’t see any problem with that.”

“You’re so weird today.” Kaoru rolls his eyes.

“You’re the weird one, obsessed with piercings.”

“You just wish you could be as cool as me. Race you to my home!”

“Damn it Kaoru, stop cheating!”

Kaoru ignores Kojirou and launches himself at full speed to make his skateboard pivot and turn around, going back from the way they came. Kojirou is still yelling at him.

Kaoru doesn’t manage to get his lip pierced before his birthday, but he does sweep the left side of his hair behind his head and keep it in place with a hair clamp, leaving his earrings in plain sight. To the calligrapher’s credit, upon seeing who the supposed Sakurayashiki heir is, he makes only the vaguest noise of shock before getting into business. Kaoru smiles all throughout the visit.

17.

Kaoru’s seventeenth birthday remains one of the most special days of his life.

He got gifts, snacks and high-fives from various people whom he cares more or less about (the crew bought a cake but Kaoru only got a thin slice of it because they are greedy bastards), while Kojirou bought him a book on AI that was way too expensive even if he has a part-time job salary (Kaoru wrestled him to the ground when he recognized the book).

Adam takes them skating in a place they’ve never explored before.

It’s beautiful. Exciting, captivating and alluring, making them use all their senses to turn at the right time, to ride down a hill without losing control, and to feel the full path reverberated through their bodies in shock waves. Skateboarding is fun, but this is on another level entirely—it’s like sliding on the edge of a cliff, giving heart palpitations but also an intoxicating feeling of a game that needs to be beaten, whose ending is all worth these efforts.

The three of them are skating as if wings sprouted on their back, uncaring of the world outside of their little bubble of thrills. Kaoru watches in fascination as Adam seems to fly across the track, smooth in his skating and unconcerned with the bumpy road. The wind seems to be an inconsequential factor in his descent in the slope, moving along with it and never straying far from the road. It’s subjugating, it’s beautiful, it’s freedom.

“Watch where you’re skating, idiot!” Kojirou yells right next to him, startling Kaoru out of his reverie.

Kaoru crouches low and makes a sharp turn, avoiding a rock that would have sent him sprawling. He straightens and keeps going at a controlled pace, glaring at Kojirou.

“I know what I’m doing!” he grunts.

“You almost smacked that wall with your face,” Kojirou points out with a glare of his own. “Stop getting distracted.”

“I’m not distracted,” Kaoru snaps back automatically.

But the look Kojirou is giving him is indescribable, so foreign on his face and even more so as it is directed at Kaoru. There is something brewing in the air and Kaoru doesn’t like it, doesn’t want a chasm opening between them because of a stupid argument, but he doesn’t even know what made Kojirou so irritable in the first place.

Adam is waiting for them at the end of the path, watching them arriving at a sullen pace with a raised eyebrow. Kaoru stops right in front of him and plasters a smile on his face, much more eager to talk about they’ve come here for.

“That’s an amazing place! Skating here is so fun, we can make a challenge out of a lot of things in this mountain.”

“Yes, the turns are different and there are many slopes that we need to be careful of,” Adam agrees, smiling. “I truly believe we can accomplish a lot, if we do it together. I want to create a special race here for skaters to push their limits.”

Adam looks at Kaoru, then at Kojirou—the glint of mischief and of confidence reflected in his eyes is the same as the one that pulls everyone in his orbit, making them give their all to become the best. It’s a look that Kaoru feels inextricably drawn to, enamored with the unbridled possibilities he imagines behind words that promise a paradise of freedom grander than anything they’ve ever known.

“You both have skills that will be useful to establish this race,” Adam continues. “People are following you and your skating is among the best. I said before that you guys were special, and I mean it.”

Kaoru does not preen, but the shivers that course through his body as Adam opens his heart are ones that feel pleasant, almost addictive. His grin splits his face in two.

“You can count on us, we’re going to create the best skating race in existence,” Kaoru assures. “Right, Kojirou?”

“Yeah, of course!”

Kojirou’s earnest tone is almost a relief—he’s clearly as excited about this race as them, and Kaoru would have been seriously worried if that wasn’t the case.

For the first time, the joyous expression on Adam’s face seems to be born out of sincerity plucked from the deepest corner of his heart. It suits him; it makes him look even more radiant than usual. Kaoru can’t look away.

“It’s decided, then,” Adam says. “The three of us, inaugurating the “S” race. Together.”

On that day, when Kaoru turned seventeen and his mind was filled with nothing but skateboarding, he thought that this is what belonging felt like.

18.

Sitting perfectly straight, legs tucked under him, Kaoru picks up a brush, dips it into ink he has carefully ground, presses it against the sheet of paper and splashes black trails all over it. The ink drips outside of the frame and stains the tatami floor of the study he hasn’t bothered to protect, littering everything in dark, angry marks that resemble the work of a child throwing a tantrum.

There is no word, no poem written on his paper. Half of the inkstick is grossly used up, its tip almost falling apart, like it wasn’t deemed worthy of being respected as one of the treasures of calligraphy. Kaoru is filling the paper with nothing but emptiness.

It’s not even rage moving his arm like a possessed demon. It would have been easier to deal with, if it was rage; handling it requires minimal effort, as he can mindlessly let his heart wreak havoc upon anything his hands come into contact with, or he can scream all the grievances he’s bottled up to clear the space occupied by unpleasant thoughts. Rage is physical, in and out, and Kaoru’s had years of practice getting rid of it.

But this is not rage that nudges him in the direction of destroying a perfectly good piece of paper with expensive ink and an even more expensive brush, tarnishing their quality and the noble use they are destined to. It’s cold and quiet resignation, trapping him in his own mind as he lets himself be selfish one last time and act out in childish anger.

Kaoru’s eighteenth birthday is spent alone, grieving his dream of ever cutting ties with family traditions. He hasn’t touched a skateboard in months and he hasn’t tinkered with his AI program in even longer. There was no point anyway—Kojirou has other things to focus on, and Adam left.

Kaoru was a fool to think he was strong and resolute enough to follow a path that is not written with the same deep ink as the one he’s used all his life.

20.

“You can legally drink now, congrats.”

“Great. I can sip my alcohol in the presence of guests and pretend I’m enjoying their company when all I want is getting drunk.”

“That’s not very professional, soon-to-be Sakurayashiki-sensei.”

“You’re one to talk, I bet you’re consuming way too many beers at those parties. Has gaining muscle mass made you lose brain cells?”

“Hey, you four-eyes, that was uncalled for!”

There is something moving behind Kojirou, a door opening and someone poking his head inside, and Kojirou turns his head to rattle off a few words in Italian before facing the camera again. Chin resting in his palm, Kaoru is watching with a raised eyebrow Kojirou’s roommate rummage through Kojirou’s dressing, before retreating back into the corridor.

“Does he make a habit to walk around your shared apartment half-naked?” Kaoru asks.

Kojirou laughs, waving his hand. “He was looking for a clean shirt, he forgot to do laundry yesterday. I told him he could borrow one of mine.”

“I’m surprised you still find shirts your size with the way your body’s taking the shape of a gorilla’s.”

“Just admit you’re jealous of my perfect muscles.”

Kojirou makes a show of flexing his bicep and Kaoru snorts.

“Yeah, I’m so jealous of that gorilla body that is unnecessarily big.” Kaoru deadpans.

“Believe it or not, it makes skating a lot more fun too,” Kojirou adds with a smile. “More power in the legs to do tricks.”

Kojirou looks...satisfied with the direction his life is taking. Kaoru is happy for him—studying abroad in culinary school and discovering a whole new culture seems to be the change of pace Kojirou needed. Sometimes Kaoru wishes he could also skate in the places full of pipes and curvy roads that Kojirou shows him, but he has to make do with the familiar tracks he’s skated on all his life.

“I upgraded Carla to calculate distances faster and to automatically record what she sees,” Kaoru says with a hint of smugness.

“Your AI having a girl’s name will never stop being weird,” Kojirou groans. “Why haven’t you chosen something normal like “Ghost Voice” or “Robotico”?”

“An AI is not a robot.” Kaoru pinches the bridge of his nose, already tired of having to repeat this for the umpteenth time. “Your Roomba is a robot. Carla recognizes many more things than the shape of your apartment.”

“Then program Carla to clean my apartment too.”

“Carla isn’t a vacuum cleaner, you dimwit!”

“That’s a big shame, maybe you should also create an AI cooking for you!”

Kaoru opens his mouth to reply something scathing, then snaps it shut. On the screen, Kojirou frowns.

“Don’t,” Kojirou warns.

“We have enough resources and data to program an AI that creates recipes from a list of ingredients,” Kaoru says anyway. “If we implement it into a robot, with the correct code and careful adjustments, then maybe it will be a decent cook.”

“If you start making a cook AI I don’t want to heart about it,” Kojirou mutters.

Kaoru rolls his eyes. “Do you think I have enough hours in a day to focus on another project? Carla already requires my full attention.”

There is no need for him to say that calligraphy practice is what he does most of the day, if he’s not attending courses on speech or on business. It’s his life now; he chose to become the next Sakurayashiki calligrapher and he can’t back down now. Not that he’s ever fully considered leaving calligraphy behind for one of his better, more interesting hobbies—and this was exactly the problem. He never untied his hands from the string tethering him to a brush.

“You always want to work on something, so I’m expecting anything from you when you’re bored,” Kojirou says with a smirk.

“Maybe my next project will make gorillas like you shut up.”

Kaoru is twenty years old, discovering every day new aspects of himself in a professional environment, but one thing that never changes is the comfort of simply existing as himself when he talks to Kojirou.

22.

Kaoru spends a couple of years simmering in feelings he doesn’t acknowledge.

He isn’t someone who takes the time to reflect on his own feelings, negative or positive. They simply happen and he decides on whether to act on them—which has been true since he was a child, throwing tantrums when he didn’t like the task he was asked to do, kicking someone he didn’t agree with as a teenager, and deflecting when answering journalists’ questions that would force him to look deep into his heart. He lives in the moment and tries very hard not to burden himself with useless thoughts and regrets he can’t act upon.

He doesn’t dwell more than necessary on his choice to inherit the family calligraphy studio, because it will lead to nothing productive. He has perhaps harbored ill feelings towards calligraphy in the past, but they’re not so visceral he can’t execute the job he’s been trained for since he could hold a brush. Sometimes he thinks he could have rejected everything he’s been taught and disappoint his family for the rest of his life, but he immediately chases the thought away and decides that suffering through a successful career of calligrapher appears to be a small sacrifice compared to the headaches that would have come with removing himself from the Sakurayashiki studio.

He’s a full grown adult, by society’s standards. He shed his sweaters for yukatas and took off his piercings with reluctance, feeling like he ripped off a part of himself that’s been with him forever to fit into a mold he’s accepted as his new normal. Those were remnants of his old, carefree life that he abandoned, and it’d be preposterous to wish for things to have gone differently.

At least he has his AI—a new spin to a traditional art that is resistant to change. Carla is efficient, impressive and shocks people into admiration; Kaoru has upgraded and improved the code as many times as it required, making her compatible with every device in his possession so that she could accompany him in all his tasks. Skating became a game of precision, detail and finesse, aiming for perfection beyond what the average mind would think of. Calligraphy is enhanced and magnified, the digital aspect adding beauty in an art that is almost exclusively done by hand. Incorporating technology in his otherwise boring job undoubtedly made his days easier and more fun.

Kaoru isn’t dissatisfied. He can do better, but he could have done worse. However, if there is one thing that makes him antsy it’s the realization that he’s seeing less of Kojirou with each passing day, and he would have never thought it would leave a growing ache in his chest every time he thinks about it.

They have their own lives to live. It’s part of growing up—and he hasn’t completely lost his best friend yet.

25.

They have been wandering the streets of Paris for exactly ten minutes and Kaoru is already starting to regret his decision.

“It’s not that hard to read a map,” he seethes, trying to grab Kojirou’s phone.

Kojirou lifts the device higher and turns his back on Kaoru, stubbornly keeping his eyes riveted on the screen.

“I’ve got this, stop distracting me,” Kojirou says.

“The metro station is right there, let’s just change itinerary, stupid gorilla!”

“You want to take the metro when we could explore the city on foot?”

“The probability of getting shitted on by pigeons is way too high for my liking.”

This gets an undignified snort from Kojirou, more amused than mocking though Kaoru knows not to assume when every one of his words can be thrown back at his face later on.

They do end up taking the metro. They can go anywhere in Paris by bus or metro, making it extremely convenient to find their way but it gets overwhelming really fast—the metro lines seem to be full of people at all hours of the day, according to Kaoru’s extensive research before their trip, and they are nothing like the monorail they have back in Okinawa. Most passengers are focused on their phones, while others are taking a quick nap, which is not that different from what they’re used to.

“It can’t be worse than the Tokyo rail lines,” Kaoru mutters as they’re being shaken by the train doing a particularly sharp and violent turn.

“You’ve never been to Tokyo,” Kojirou replies with a raised eyebrow.

“I did last year for a meeting.”

“And that single trip was enough for you to get the full experience of the infamous rush of Tokyo’s Yamanote line?”

“I wasn’t saying I used the Yamanote line, imbecile. All trains are crowded. I think you wouldn’t have been able to squeeze in with your gorilla body.”

“At least I’m not at risk of going blind when someone knocks off my glasses by pushing me around in a crowd!”

“I always carry a second pair of glasses with me to avoid this kind of incident!”

It’s probably a good thing that this line of metro makes the same level of noise as a tractor revved up at full power, because their arguing is by no means quiet and people are starting to stare at them. But as soon as Kaoru glances at them, they avert their eyes and pretend they weren’t gawking. Typical.

March weather is terrible. Their trip lasts one week, and there is an equal number of sunny days and of cloudy days, with high probability of rain. It shouldn’t be normal to have a changing weather so unpredictable that it makes planning for their day a real pain in the ass. Kojirou is already complaining about the sun beginning to leave space for clouds at merely eleven in the morning, and Kaoru silently agrees with the sentiment.

The food is good, at least.

“Reminds me a bit of what restaurants looked like in Italy,” Kojirou says around a mouthful of beef. “Maybe I can draw inspiration from those recipes.”

“It’s not Italian cuisine,” Kaoru points out. “Unless you intend to make a mixed menu.”

“Of course not, but the flavors can be useful.”

Kojirou is examining his piece of vegetable like a scientist observing an experiment under a microscope, as if it could give him the secrets of its cooking time or the spices used for it. Kaoru lightly kicks him under the table, and Kojirou hisses.

“Stop being weird and eat your food.”

“Do you really have to hit me every time you want to make a point?”

“I’m not hitting that hard.”

The other way around is more likely to happen; Kaoru won’t ever admit it but he doubts that Kojirou feels more pain than Kaoru does when he hits him. Those muscles are ridiculous and entirely unnecessary, honestly.

They take pictures at the landmarks and get mad at the long lines and narrow their eyes at the price of various food and drinks they stumble upon. They’re not short on money, but drinking a cup of café au lait at twice the price of what they can find in regular coffee shops doesn’t leave a good taste in their mouth. Kojirou uses the knowledge from his time in Italy to make educated guesses on whether they’re paying something at an unreasonable price or not—he looks a bit too smug doing so but Kaoru lets it slide for once and allows him to play the role of the brain for this specific aspect of their trip. Kaoru can at least trust Kojirou’s judgment when money is concerned (even if his intuition can be skewed sometimes).

“It’s only because it’s your birthday trip that I’m putting up with your need to visit museums,” Kojirou says, waving at the multiple pamphlets they gathered after three days of sightseeing.

“Having some culture ingrained in your mind is nothing but beneficial for you,” Kaoru retorts evenly.

Kojirou rolls his eyes, clearly not interested in that conversation, and gets up from his bed of their hotel room. It’s past midnight but they’re still wide awake. Sharing one room would be awkward or embarrassing for a lot of people, but Kaoru has known Kojirou half his life and it would be ridiculous to feel self-conscious now, when they’ve seen each other in various states of undress and wakefulness. Perhaps the only complaint Kaoru will voice that he didn’t have when he was thirteen is that the older Kojirou gets, the louder his snoring is (as if the noise level grows with the wideness of his body).

“Hey, Kaoru.”

Kaoru looks up from tomorrow’s schedule displayed on his phone to come face to face with a giant box of pastries and Kojirou’s bright grin. Kojirou is holding the box one-handed, slightly bent forward, like he would a tray to present his dish to his most loyal customers.

“Happy birthday, four-eyes,” Kojirou says on a light tone.

“Must you call me names when you’re wishing me happy birthday?” Kaoru scoffs, but he eyes the pastries with unconcealed interest.

They went to a bakery in the afternoon for a snack, buying a croissant, a pain au chocolat and a pain aux raisins because they apparently lack self control when it comes to cheap baked goods—but for some reason Kaoru missed the moment Kojirou acquired this box of pastries.

“It’s past midnight,” Kaoru reminds him.

Kojirou shrugs. “We’re grown adults and on holiday, I don’t think it’s much of a problem.”

“There are six different pastries in this box.”

“Nobody’s saying we should eat all of them right now, moron. Save some of them for tomorrow.”

They end up eating three pasties, one half each, while arguing about the pros and cons of buying smaller portions of different sweets over getting an entire cake for a birthday, as well as the point of starting celebrating said birthday at midnight instead of simply waiting for morning. They’ve had these conversations before, at Kaoru’s or Kojirou’s birthday over the years, but it seems they never grow sick of repeating the same arguments even when the topic is stupid.

It’s like a well-oiled machine; pushing on one button always leads to the same result. Kaoru and Kojirou argue because this is what they’re used to do, a response at their lips even before they hear the end of the other’s sentence. What comes out of their mouths takes the shape of banter but Kaoru, even though he usually ignores it, notices how at ease he is in these moments.

Kojirou invited him for this trip even if he didn’t have to, and bought pastries to share at midnight like they’re holding a small party. His face is illuminated by his generosity and his big heart that finds a way to carve itself in his eyes.

“Let’s go skating tomorrow afternoon, it will be fun,” Kojirou suggests, mischief and plain desire to have fun glimmering in his gaze.

And Kaoru can’t say no.

They brought their boards, like they did when they traveled to Los Angeles. It might sound like a waste of space in their luggage, but nobody has a say in what they consider fun. Kaoru had to change Carla’s battery for her to fall under airport regulation, which was a hassle on short notice (Kojirou dropped a plane ticket on Kaoru’s lap a week before departure, and Kaoru shoved back money at him but it somehow ended back in his hands after a few minutes of jostling) but definitely worth it, because there’s no way he will skate with a lower quality board.

On March 27th, when Kaoru turns twenty-five years old, he almost resorts to a more physical solution to win petty squabbles against skaters in another country, a behavior he was prone to display when he was seventeen. But he’s an adult who is traveling for leisure and isn’t foolish enough to ruin the trip by punching someone when he can skate away and show off with a few tricks involving exact calculations and perfect angles, so this is what he does—after Kojirou, admittedly, forced him to remain calm, as though he was his impulse control when Kojirou is just as quick to rise to a challenge.

Maybe the difference is that Kojirou isn’t a cocky bastard like Kaoru is. Debatable, but Kaoru won’t deny that he loves the feeling of achieving something flashy or impressive. Getting into trouble for it is always worth it, especially if Kojirou is there to live it with him. It’s never the same without Kojirou—they might bicker and have more arguments then actual conversations, but Kojirou’s a warm presence enveloping him in a tight hug he can never quite shake off.

The trip to Paris isn’t half-bad, and it’s full of memories with the person he trusts the most.

26.

Kojirou is very, very still when Kaoru finally stops fighting with himself and leans his head on his shoulder, completely wasted after drinking too much wine at this event gathering too many important people to talk to and drink with. The taxi is silent and all he can hear is the screech of the wheels on the asphalt.

“Rest until we reach your home,” Kojirou says, something akin to laughter in his voice.

“Hm.”

Kaoru registers the words coming out of Kojirou’s mouth, and judges them acceptable before closing his eyes and letting himself be rocked by the car drive. In his drunken haze, when he called Kojirou to be picked up, he forgot Kojirou lent his car to his little brother; remembering such an essential detail would have saved them a lot of trouble, but Kojirou called a taxi and is now sitting with Kaoru in the backseat instead of going back to his own home. What an idiot.

Kojirou helps him into his apartment, grumbling as his elbows hit the walls and his feet get caught in stray shoes in the genkan that Kaoru eventually wanted to sort out and put away. They manage to get to the couch, and Kaoru collapses on it without grace and lets out a long groan, draping an arm over his eyes.

“I’m not drinking at this sort of event again,” he complains.

“That’s your fault for not limiting yourself,” Kojirou sounds unimpressed. “You always say you’ll stop drinking but you keep doing it.”

“Half a glass with each guest is customary. Beyond that is called showing off.”

“So you’re showing off, stupid four-eyes.”

“Shut up, gorilla. I have something to prove.”

Kojirou’s sigh is filled with such apparent exasperation that Kaoru immediately realizes how petty and ridiculous he just sounded.

“On the day of your birthday, to top it all,” Kojirou says. “Do you need babysitting?”

“You are not going to babysit me,” Kaoru snaps. “I’ll just go to sleep.”

“Yeah, and you’ll start bitching tomorrow morning because you forgot to drink water and take a shower.”

“I’m not that incompetent, you giant brainless idiot.”

Kojirou doesn’t deign responding to his insult and slides behind the kitchen counter. Kaoru drops his arm and watches him rummaging through the cabinets with too much confidence for someone who doesn’t live there. Kojirou comes back with a glass of water and two slices of bread that Kaoru usually eats in the morning when he’s too lazy to make breakfast.

“You probably didn’t eat much, since your robophile brain was wired on ingesting wine.”

“I just said I don’t need your help,” Kaoru mutters.

Kojirou ignores him and deposits the items on the coffee table. He then sits down next to Kaoru, causing Kaoru to shift further on his side of the couch because of his needlessly big body.

“Do you have to sit so close to me?” Kaoru grumbles, leaning forward to snatch the water and the bread, pretending that his world didn’t start spinning as he did so. He takes a few sips of the water.

“Your couch isn’t large enough.”

“It’s your body that’s not average size, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“You’re suspiciously coherent for someone who says he’s drunk.”

Kaoru shrugs, foregoing manners as he speaks and munches on the bread at the same time. “My mind is clear, my thoughts aren’t confused in the least.”

“Right. What time is it?”

Kaoru looks at the time displayed on his TV box, sitting on the stand pushed against the opposite wall of where they’re sitting. He squints at the numbers, slightly blurry despite his glasses still resting on his nose. He has no idea what time it is.

“Eleven forty-seven,” Kaoru announces.

“No, it’s twelve forty-seven,” Kojirou snickers. “Finish that, take a shower and go to bed.”

“And you’re going to stay here and take up space in my apartment?”

“Well, if your event hadn’t run for so long, I would have spent some time with you anyway since it’s your birthday. So I might as well stay until you fall asleep.”

Several things get jumbled in his head at that moment, and Kaoru stares at Kojirou in disbelief. There’s something funny and warm happening in the pit of his stomach.

“You have nothing else to do,” Kaoru asks, or accuses—he doesn’t know how his voice comes across.

“Just go to sleep, Kaoru.”

Kojirou takes the empty glass from Kaoru’s hands and puts it on the table. He then tugs Kaoru upright, holding his wrists in a gentle and careful grip, as if Kaoru will break if he’s not handled in the most delicate manner. Half of the second slice of bread is lying abandoned in the plate, but Kaoru doesn’t particularly mind as he realizes, with strange clarity, that this isn’t unpleasant to be taken care of like this. Kojirou is smiling at him with his most genuine expression, and Kaoru has to look down to avoid his gaze, embarrassed and fulfilled and relieved all at once.

28.

It’s been a long time coming, Kaoru thinks as his fingers tangle in Kojirou’s hair and he brings him closer, always closer to him. The night is warm and too uncomfortable for a spring day, but the heat twisting his stomach is from something entirely separate. His lips meet Kojirou’s endlessly, like this act alone will make him absorb whatever Kojirou is willing to give to him for safekeeping. It’s the first time they’re kissing and yet it feels like they should have been doing this for years now, hiding under the shade of a tree or behind a rocky wall to share a private moment together, in a pocket of time that will burst only when they decide to drop all pretenses.

He knows it’s been a long time coming, because Kojirou is laughing against his lips, and when Kaoru cracks an eye open he sees how open and fond Kojirou’s face is. Kaoru immediately wants to close his eyes again and to stop noticing how luminous everything has become.

“We’re so dumb,” Kojirou says.

“You are stupid, for holding back all those years,” Kaoru retorts.

“Yeah, now it’s my fault for being considerate of your feelings towards me.”

“If you believed for one instant that I’d cut ties with you, then you’re more foolish than I thought you were.”

Kojirou still has hi arms wound around Kaoru’s back, and when he shrugs he presses Kaoru closer to himself. There is no anger and no regret in his eyes or his posture, as though nothing in the world would strip him of the bliss he’s currently being filled with. Kaoru finds himself drunk on the sight.

“I didn’t think that, no. I was just too scared of doing anything that will cause a shift in our relationship.”

The words sound strange, once Kaoru hears them spoken out loud. Kojirou is the one constant in his life that never changed, a shadow at his back and a light guiding him. They’ve both seen each other at their worst and their best, tending to bruises and squeezing a shoulder in comfort or riling each other up as part of their routine. Kojirou is an entity that exists at Karou’s side, full of familiarity and overflowing with kindness that doesn’t need to be voiced.

Kojirou is stupid for ever having hesitated or doubted the strength of their bond. But Kaoru is stupid, too, for simply taking what Kojirou was offering without ever giving back properly.

“We’re never having this conversation again,” Kaoru warns, tugging at Kojirou’s hair and pressing his forehead against his. “I trust you, Kojirou. I always have. This isn’t going to change.”

Kojirou is clinging to every one of his words, looking at Kaoru with the most enraptured expression he’s ever shown. Like this is a dream that cannot be real. Kaoru scowls.

“Don’t look so surprised, gorilla. That’s not a secret.”

“I’m not surprised, I’m simply enjoying that you’re saying it at all,” Kojirou laughs.

“You never say anything pleasant about me either.”

“You’re the one who barges into my restaurant and half the time demand dishes that aren’t even on the menu, and I still cook them! I’m being nice enough!”

“What else would you do in a restaurant, muscles for brain ape?”

“I don’t know, cook a dish I have the actual ingredients for?”

Kaoru’s lips are pulled upward despite everything, his heart as light as ever in Kojirou’s presence. The ease surrounding them remains the same, electric veil sealing them in their own brand of intimacy they wouldn’t trade for anything else.

It feels effortless, then, to switch to a less barbed attitude but still retaining playfulness. Kaoru brushes strands of hair out of Kojirou’s face, and Kojirou runs a thumb under Kaoru’s eye.

“It’s my birthday at the end of the week,” Kaoru whispers, locking eyes with Kojirou. “Take me somewhere nice.”

“Bossy as ever,” Kojirou sighs, though his voice sounds like contentment and bliss contained in a space called home.

Kaoru smiles.

#matchablossom #joecherry #matcha blossom #kaoru sakurayashiki #kojiro nanjo #sk8 #sk8 the infinity #kaoru is like 'i know i have feelings but i'm making the decision of not seeing them'#i'm fascinated by his change from punk high schooler to stoic adult #i also have more thoughts about kaoru+calligraphy relationship that i'll eventually write down #when i have the time o(-(

23 notes · View notes

liusaidh-writing · 4 years ago

Text

Call it True - Chapter Two

*repost because I’m an idiot who left off an entire chunk of the story*

Prefer AO3?

---

Thanks to @faithperry46 for being a great beta!

Enjoy!

***************************

The next morning, she prepared her flat for little Harry to come over and was pleased with herself when she had several activities planned instead of just winging it like she normally did. She’d pulled out some old crayons and paper, some stacking blocks she kept around for his visits, and had even run to the store at the crack of dawn to get some toddler-friendly snacks.

Harry arrived with a flourish, Lesley rushing in and out, trying to get to work on time. They bid her goodbye and Claire urged Harry to start with the blocks since she’d just heard the lady downstairs start up her hoover.

Was he there this morning? Again, she went to her kitchen window, pushed it open, and peeked above her to see his face, his glorious, stupid face with his big grin. Oh boy, she thought, there are kids present. She forced her mind to remain on neutral, stable ground, as she waved up to him.

“Morning, Claire,” he called down.

Was he a morning person, Claire wondered, or did he like to stay up late? Well, he always seemed happy when they chatted, anyway.

Claire waved up to him. “You haven’t gotten that broom yet, have you? I saw one that would be perfect for her and I thought we could oof-!” she was cut off by a shove from a two-year-old.

“Auntie Claire, I wanna see!” He held his arms up, begging her to pick him up so he could see out the window, too. The little boy looked up at Jamie, and in typical toddler fashion, bluntly asked, “Who are you?”

Jamie smiled, hiding a laugh, and responded, “I’m Jamie, your Auntie’s friend.”

They were friends? Claire looked away, into her kitchen, and felt a blush creep up her cheeks. She heard him continue talking to Harry as every bit of her was tingly and her breath came faster. She didn’t dare look him in the eye. Suddenly she heard, “Can you come to play?” come out of Harry’s mouth.

“I don’t think Jamie...I’m sure he’s quite busy…” she trailed off, glancing up, yet still avoiding his eyes. Oh God, they were friends, and this little boy was inviting him. Down! Her heart was jumping out of her chest now, and she frantically looked around at the mess in the kitchen - not to mention Harry’s toys all over the living room. His mother had kindly brought a giant sack of toys for him to play with, and they’d been promptly dumped out by the toddler the second he’d come in.

“Claire...do you mind? I’d hate to let him down,” Jamie said, smiling at them both with his billion-watt smile and Claire knew she could do nothing but say yes. “The place is a mess…” she trailed off as she fidgeted with her hair tie, wondering if she needed to check herself in the mirror before he made it here.

Jamie told Harry that he’d ‘be right there!’ and disappeared from the window.

Claire thought she might faint on the spot, but took a deep breath, and put Harry back down on the ground. He sprinted to the door and waited, while Claire re-tied her wild hair and smoothed her sweater. She closed the window and frantically threw her dirty breakfast dish in the sink. "God, my bed isn’t made," she thought, before deciding to just close that door altogether. He shouldn’t see her bedroom, anyway. Too intimate. Claire was briefly thankful that he wasn’t a pop star, because she was sure she would’ve plastered his face all over her walls had she been a 14-year-old girl, which she was not. "Pull it together, Beauchamp. He’s coming to play with a two-year-old, not with you." she admonished as she heard his knock at her door.

“Oh God,” she squeaked, as Harry struggled to open the door.

“Auntie Claaaaire!” he cried, looking at her with a pained expression.

“Okay, I’m coming,” she said, padding to the door and turning the knob.

There he was. Jamie - his whole body this time. Claire’s eyes swept over him, in his dark blue t-shirt and worn jeans. Yeah... he definitely worked out. His red hair was tied back at the nape of his neck, some of it already loose, hanging around his face. His eyes were blue opals, and Claire couldn’t avert her eyes. He was perfect.

“Hi...I hope it’s okay - I just couldn’t turn this little guy down…” he said by way of greeting, gesturing to Harry who jumped up and down on his tiptoes. He grabbed Jamie’s hand and pulled him to the pile of toys in the middle of Claire’s living room before Claire could respond. She closed the door and whirled around, watching them, sitting on the floor and digging through toys, Harry chanting ‘trains!’ all the while.

“I...guess we’re playing trains!” Claire said with a shrug, as she sat a good, respectable, six feet from Jamie on the floor.

Jamie found some pieces of track and began building one, while Claire found the engine, making sure it didn’t need batteries, and handed it to Harry who squealed and began running the train along the floor while Jamie continued with track-building.

“They don’t make this easy…” Jamie said as he fiddled with two pieces of track, his tongue sticking out in concentration. Claire watched his face, his dark red eyebrows crumpled together, and wondered how she could go about talking to him when every time she thought about it her stomach dropped and her mouth went dry. She cleared her throat, her breath catching, causing her to cough.

“S--Sorry, I didn’t even offer anything to drink...would you care for anything, Jamie?” She stood up, as gracefully as possible, narrowly avoiding falling into him altogether as her knee gave out at the worst possible moment, causing her to have to catch herself on the television stand that wasn’t the strongest piece of furniture she owned. It wobbled a little bit, and Claire felt a hand on her elbow, fire spreading through her arm and into the pit of her stomach, as Jamie jumped up to help her.

“Are ye all right, lass?” Jamie asked as Claire straightened herself, face on fire. She looked down at the floor, mumbled a response, and scurried off to the kitchen.

She slapped her hands down on the counter and took a deep breath. Well, she nearly broke her neck, the television, and made a fool of herself. Wonderful. This was all going swimmingly! She groaned, making her way to the cabinet for a couple of glasses to fill with water from the sink. She hadn’t even waited to hear what Jamie wanted to drink. All she had was water from the sink, so she filled the glasses and made her way back to the living room, silently praying not to fall again. Claire sat back down, this time creating even more space between them than before. She was woozy after their hands had brushed one another as she handed him the glass of water, and she made her hand into a fist, reveling in the feeling of his skin against hers for as long as it would last.

He and Harry were enjoying themselves, watching the train, now on a proper track, chugging along as Harry laid down on the floor to watch the wheels roll by. Jamie took a sip of his water, lifting his glass in Claire’s direction.

“Thanks. Putting the track together was thirsty work,” he joked, smiling as Harry began to run around the track to follow the train. “Do you keep him often? I keep my nieces and nephews from time to time, though not as often as I’d like, truthfully.” He looked genuinely disappointed about this, as Claire wondered how many he had. “I’m no great with bairns but I love being around them, all the same.”

“Harry is my best friend’s son - her name is Lesley - we work together. Her regular sitter fell through today, and today is a day off for me so...here we are.” She lifted her hands in a shrug, gesturing to Harry, who had grabbed the television remote and was furiously smashing the buttons.

“Tee-bee?” he said loudly, holding the remote out to Jamie.

“Does he watch...er...tee-bee?” Jamie asked, deferring to Claire.

“Sometimes. Buddy, why don’t we find something else to play with? The TV is broken…” Claire said as Harry’s face fell, the little white lie going over his head.

The day wore on, Claire and Jamie chatting here and there while keeping the toddler in their care happy. It was exhausting, yet Claire felt exhilarated by Jamie’s presence. The ‘what-if’ scenarios swarmed in her head all day. The two-year-old had worn himself out at around 1 o'clock. He couldn’t keep his eyes open and passed out for a nap, leaving Jamie and Claire alone.

Alone.

Claire awkwardly came out of her bedroom after placing Harry in her bed. Jamie was sitting on her couch, tapping the fingers of his right hand on the cushion next to him. He had his phone in his left hand, his brow knit with what appeared to be concern. Claire cleared her throat, announcing her return, and Jamie looked up. His face lit up, he put his phone down and ran his hand over his face.

“Ah...I hope I haven’t overstayed my welcome, Sassenach.”

“Sassenach?”

Jamie looked startled for a second, then recovered. “Aye, sorry - it’s...it’s what I call you….in my head.”

“In your head?” Claire was amused, and a little surprised. Did he think of her?

Jamie looked sheepish, but Claire laughed, putting him at ease.

“It’s okay, I’m honored to be...in your mind,” she said, walking over to the couch, rather happy with herself. She took a seat, still leaving that space between them.

“Sorry, I don’t have a nickname for you,” she said, still beaming.

“Jamie is just fine, Claire.”

He picked up his phone again as it buzzed next to him. He ran his hand over his forehead again and sighed. “I think...I think I have to go, Sassenach,” he said, looking over at her, his eyes despondent.

“Oh, okay - thank you for coming to play with Harry today. I know he enjoyed it.”

I enjoyed it, too, she thought.

Jamie stood up, shuffling to the door in the regretful, slow way. He had stuffed his hands in his pockets, and when he reached the door, he turned, smiling.

“Would you like to go for coffee or something sometime?” he spat out quickly.

Claire was caught off guard as she stood up. He was...asking her on a date? Maybe it wasn’t a date, her mind told her, her eyes darting everywhere but at Jamie.

“If you’re not--” Jamie began, but Claire cut him off.

“No, I--I’d love to! Really!”

Claire’s hands were sweating now. She ran them up and down her jeans in a nervous fashion, her eyes finally meeting his. She walked to grab her phone off the coffee table and handed it to him.

“Here, put your number in here. It’ll be...good to have, anyway. Just in case- I mean, we are neighbors.”

Jamie entered his telephone number and handed it back to her with a grin.

“Well, I must go now,” he said as he felt another buzz from his phone in his pocket. “They won’t leave me be.”

Claire wondered who they were, but didn’t pry. She held her phone tightly in one hand and moved to hold the door open with the other.

“I’ll see you soon, Sassenach.”

“Bye, Jamie.”

With the door closed, Claire all but floated to the couch, sat down, and opened her phone. She stared at it - his fingers had danced across her screen, deftly typing away. She was rather envious of the screen and clicked to open her contacts and found his entry.

His name was...in her phone. She could call him up, could text him. But what would she say? Well, she had to give him her number, no doubt. She quickly opened a new message and typed.

Thanks again for today. It was fun. Coffee would be perf--

She erased that last bit.

Thanks again for today. It was fun.

That would do. Wait, she hadn’t put her name. It could be from anyone.

Thanks again for today. It was fun. - Sassenach

There. Perfect. It was enough. Send.

She heard Harry squirming in the bedroom and went in to check on him, still soaring. She decided to teach Harry how to skip.

***

Going to bed, after saying goodbye to Harry and having her dinner of leftover pizza, she laid her phone on the bedside table. Claire jumped a mile into the air when it played its melody. She had a text! Grabbing the phone, her face split into a grin.

Jamie: Aye, Sassenach - I had fun, too :-)

He’d even included a smiley face emoticon. Claire imitated its face, wide eyes, and immovable smile.

Claire: Shall we have our coffee tomorrow? My shift begins at 8 tomorrow night…

She worried her thumb over her phone, before closing her eyes and hitting send. Maybe she sounded too eager, but she didn’t care. She was eager. It had been his idea, after all. Claire waited, picking at her nails, the dry skin around her fingers from all the handwashing she did at work. She'll have to do something about that. "Feels like sandpaper," she thought, cringing at the idea of Jamie being revolted at the sight. She clenched her fists and held her breath until the reply came.

Jamie: Yes, sounds perfect. I will be home by then. I’ll knock on your door around 6?

God, they’d only have two hours. That was enough time, right? Well, for coffee, it was more than enough time. How much coffee did she need to drink? She thought she’d drink an entire five-gallon bucket of coffee if it meant sitting next to Jamie for longer than two hours. Well, she’d have to make the best of it. Perhaps it would make her night at work seem more pleasant. Start her night off on a good note. No... a great note.

She smiled, texted back that it would be perfect, and called it a night. She slept restlessly, dreaming of large hands and blue eyes, warm and inviting.

----

Claire rushed around the next day - even though she knew she had to work that night. Despite her best efforts, sleep evaded her. She wasn’t hungry for all the excitement pulsing through her since the day before. What would she wear? What would she order? She hadn’t even thought to pick a place? Well, the one around the corner would do fine, she thought. It was cozy, with a fire going most nights. She couldn’t keep her mind jumping around, and all the while she kept repeating to herself: "I have a date. With Jamie. Tonight!" She picked out a pair of her nicer jeans - ones without holes, a dark blue sweater with a floral stitch around the collar, and her black flats. She pinned her hair up, then decided against it - it wasn’t raining, so she’d be okay letting it go natural this time. She packed her work bag, including scrubs to change into, and then sat and waited.

It was only four in the afternoon. He wouldn’t be here for two hours. "How pathetic, Beauchamp," she thought, turning on the television, staring at the screen but not absorbing anything she saw. Her knee kept bouncing as anticipated his arrival.

She didn’t realize she’d nodded off until she heard the doorbell ringing.

“Wha…?” She jumped off the couch, wiping the drool off her cheek, startled to see it was shortly past six in the evening. Good lord, it was Jamie! Her hair, which had before been somewhat tamed, was wild and uncontrollable as she tried to smooth it down. She walked briskly to the door, feeling like a skittish deer as she rubbed her eyes, leaving her vision slightly blurry. She opened the door, taking a deep breath, and there he was - at her door for the second time in as many days. Jamie.

“Hi! Come in- or..should we just go? I’m not sure we have much time…” she rambled, he laughed.

“It’s okay, let’s just go - it’s nice out. I thought we could go to Perry’s, around the corner?”

“Ah, yes, that sounds lovely.” She grabbed her keys and her bags, closing the door behind her with a thud.

Claire was surprised when Jamie took her work bag from her, slinging the long strap over his shoulder.

“So, what do you like to get at Perry’s, Sassenach?” Jamie asked, beginning with safe small talk.

“Ah, well, I’m not a big fan of coffee, but I love their tea, and their chocolate chip muffins are delicious!” Claire, not having eaten anything all day, suddenly got her appetite back, and hoped Jamie hadn’t noticed that her stomach had growled as she’d thought about the muffins.

“Hungry?” he chuckled, adding that he, too, was fond of the muffins.

Shoot, he’d noticed.

“It’s weird transitioning from day to night shift. I don’t know when to sleep or to eat. It’s confusing for a bit until I get settled. Then it’s time to change again. I can’t wait until I’ve been there longer - I’ll have more say in when I get scheduled.”

She’d only been at the hospital for a few months, starting as an assistant at a medical office before deciding to take the job at the hospital. She enjoyed the environment more, and it was faster paced; it suited her.

They were halfway to the coffee shop now, brushing against one another periodically, covering Claire’s entire body with goosebumps.

“That does sound rough. I work similarly - though nothing like you’re doing. I work at my Da’s farm - up north. My sister oversees things, lives there full-time. I decided to live here in the city and go to school. She calls me up periodically to help out.”

Jamie caught Claire’s elbow as he guided her around the corner, into the shop’s door. Claire shivered as they went in, though it was as warm as she knew it would be, with the roaring fire in the hearth, and luckily, two oversized leather armchairs waiting for them. She guided them over, set her purse down, picking the one to the right. Jamie placed her work bag gingerly on the floor next to his chair and gestured toward the counter.

“Shall I order for us? What will ye have?”

“Oh, I’ll pay for mine.” Claire protested, putting her hands out to get her purse.

“No, I’ll not hear it. I asked you out, remember?” Jamie said, making his way to the counter, wallet in hand. “Tell me what you want, or I’ll order you black coffee,” he said jokingly, ignoring Claire’s sputtering.

“Um, I’ll have the muffin and...a chai latte,” she said, giving up and letting him pay.

“Chocolate chip, correct?” he asked, nodding to the server. “Go have a seat, Sassenach. I’ll get it.”

Claire slinked away, quietly reveling in his chivalry. She sat in her armchair, gazing at him as he stood at the counter. His deep green sweater complemented his coloring beautifully, and she loved how his jeans hugged his hips so perfectly. His hair was, like the day before, tied loosely at his neck, the curls finding their way out here and there. He wore a brown belt of worn leather and black boots on his feet. He was, Claire thought, exquisite.

She relished in the warmth of the fire, the goosebumps still prickling her skin. She watched him as he returned with their drinks and her muffin. He had indeed gotten a black coffee and a tea for her. She took the cup from him with a grateful smile, and sat back, taking a slow sip of the warm chai. It was spiced perfectly and warmed her to her toes.

He sat, the leather chair squeaking slightly as he chuckled.

“It was the chair, I promise,” he chuckled, taking a sip of his drink then remembering something. “Oh! To our wee night out, Sassenach,” he said, holding his cup up for a toast. Claire laughed, holding hers up to his as they tapped the cups together.

“I haven’t done anything like this in a long time,” said Claire, wondering if it was a mistake to admit her spinster status outright like that.

“Can’t say I have, either,” Jamie said. “ Hasn’t been much time lately, anyway.”

“It’s difficult juggling a career and personal life. Well, it is for me.” Claire paused, picking up her muffin, suddenly extremely hungry. She broke a bit off, offered him the bag that held the muffin. “Would you care for any?”

“No, you eat it, I’m all right,” Jamie replied, taking another sip of his coffee.

“I don’t know how you drink it black like that,” Claire said, grimacing, imagining the bitter taste.

“It’s good, Claire! Have ye even tried it?”

“I have, thank you. It was all my uncle drank when I was younger, and though it reminds me of him, I can’t drink it, myself.” Claire put another bite in her mouth before continuing, doing her best to fight the urge to talk around the food. She politely swallowed before continuing. “He raised me - my parents died when I was very young,” she said, Jamie nodding in understanding.

“My mam died when I was a child,” Jamie said, quietly, though Claire could tell he was reluctant to say more.

“Oh... I’m so sorry,” Claire said, desperate to drive the conversation away from the subject of dead parents. “You said your father owns a farm?”

Jamie’s eyes went darkened briefly before he nodded.

“Aye, it’s smaller than it once was - we grow vegetables and things for the small village nearby - though we also raise sheep and make our money that way. I love it, but I also like the idea of being in an office, perhaps owning my own business one day…” he trailed off, Claire impressed by his drive and ambition.

“That sounds lovely, Jamie. I’m sure you’ll do whatever you set your mind to.”

“Tell that to my sister. She’s none so supportive - she wants me to move back to the farm, focus on that entirely. It’s an ongoing battle.” he shrugged, smiling into his near-empty coffee cup.

They talked, the conversation flowing from family to work to movies they liked - it was easy, Claire thought, talking to Jamie. He seemed to listen, unlike some men who talked over her or dominated the conversation in other ways. She noticed she was teetering on the edge of her seat at one moment, listening to Jamie tell a story about his boyhood on the farm. It involved a cow that had gotten loose and had a fall into a pond. Claire leaned further in and realized he’d done the same - their knees almost touching. Claire had long since finished her muffin and tea, and simply couldn’t pull herself away from the timbre of his voice, and the bright gleam in his eye as he talked of things he loved.

She sat up, though, when she’d glanced at his watch. She recklessly pulled his left hand closer to her face to get a better look at the gold hour hand.

“Oh, fuck,” she said, stopping him mid-sentence. “I’m going to be late for work.”

Jumping out of her chair, she grabbed her purse and lunged for the work bag next to Jamie. She barely missed whacking her face on the table next to him as she snatched the bag off the ground with a great huff of breath. “I’ve been late twice this month - a third gets me a write-up. I am so sorry, Jamie, I’ve got to run.”

“S’ok, Claire,” Jamie replied as he stood up to follow her out into the night. It had cooled significantly since their walk, and Claire shivered as she started down the sidewalk to the bus stop. “I had a good time - perhaps we can do it again?” Jamie called, his long stride keeping up with her frantic pace easily.

“God, yes, let’s do something again soon. I loved talking with you,” she said, distractedly looking into her purse to dig for her now elusive bus pass. “Where the hell is it?”

“Here, use mine - I won’t be needing it tonight,” Jamie said, giving her his pass.

“Thank you so much, Jamie!” she gushed, watching the bus pull up. “And thank you for the coffee. Have a good night!”

“Night, Sassenach,” he said with a wave, watching Claire clamber onto the bus.

Claire slumped into a seat near the front, heaved a deep breath, and looked out the window. He was still there, hand up in a wave. She lifted her hand as the bus started to pull away, desperate to yell at the bus driver to stop so she could jump out, continue their date. Instead, she watched as an older man sat next to her. She smiled, and settled back for the ride to the hospital. It was going to be a long night.

#Outlander Fanfic #Outlander Fic #Outlander #writing #fanfiction #call it true

31 notes · View notes

darlingpetao3 · 5 years ago

Text

Give Into the Symptoms (EoWells x Reader)

Rating: M (Smut)

Summary: When an unknown substance is accidentally released into the medbay, you find yourself isolated along with Doctor Wells, and both of you start to develop some very interesting symptoms...

A/N: Happy Friday! Here’s some super hot smut to spice up your day! Word count - 3,223

Tag List: @blogforhoes

Team Flash likes to joke that being accident-prone is your superpower. Little did they know, one accident in particular would catapult you into a world of suspicion and realization…

It’s one of those days - a day in between just having caught the latest meta terrorizing the city and having another one pop up. You have forgotten your travel mug, and are searching the Labs for it. Oh, right!

You remember setting it down while visiting Caitlin in the medbay, then got distracted. There it is. You jog into the room, but remember that’s probably not a good idea. What if you trip on absolutely nothing and fall flat on your face? Not if you can help it.

But that doesn’t seem to help you.

When you reach for your mug on the desk, it’s like everything happens in slow motion (later, you find yourself wondering if this is how it feels for Barry) - your arm knocks over a series of test tubes holding different coloured liquids. Some of the substance splashes onto your skin, whereas the rest of the matter falls to the ground. It gives off a pungent aroma. You can practically see the fumes rising from the desk and the floor up into the air. In the shock of the accident, you let out a yell, and find that whatever the hell chemicals just touched your skin feels like it’s burning.

“Miss (Y/L/N)!” comes the familiar voice of your superior (and friend? You’re fairly certain you’re friends… You hope you’re friends...) Doctor Harrison Wells. The scientist zooms in on his motorized chair at the fastest speed it will carry him. “What’s happened?”

His voice is a mixture of surprise, concern and impending protocol.

“Ow, ow, I knocked over chemicals on the desk, ah!” you try to explain while shaking your affected limb. “Some on my arm.”

You shout in wild staccatos while Doctor Wells helps usher you to the emergency wash station to ease the moderately uncomfortable sensation. Even after the cold water sprays on your skin, it’s Harrison’s next few words that shock you even more than the water temperature or the burn.

“You need to remove your shirt. Quickly.”

“I- what?”

Doctor Wells wheels over to one of the cabinets in the room and plucks one of the many overly stocked S.T.A.R. Labs sweaters to toss it at you.

“There will still be remnants of the concoction on your shirt. It will continue to soak through the fabric and reach the rest of your body. It cannot be touching you. Hurry. Unless you want to try to bathe in that sink.”

You have your shirt off faster than you could say “the Flash.”

You remove your shirt so fast, in fact, that Doctor Wells hasn’t even had time yet to turn away or avert his eyes. Instead, he witnesses the entire thing.

“Oh, well…” he utters, possibly embarrassed, turning around too late. His eyes one hundred percent saw you in your bra. And now you will let that tiny factoid harass you for the rest of your life. You shrug on the classic navy sweater with the organization’s logo stretched across your chest. It is not your size, but it will have to do.

“Alright, I’m decent,” you say to the back of his dark-haired head. He makes a small noise in the back of his throat after he faces you again, but you can’t decipher its meaning. But that is the case with many things when it comes to this man.

“We have to self-isolate ourselves.” Harrison’s voice is calm but firmly urgent. “We’ve both been in contact with each other and the substance. Quick, initiate lockdown.” You know just what to do and sprint to the door to the room. You smash the emergency glass and press the Big Red Button. Instantly, metal barriers drop down to seal the doors and windows, locking you in with the secret object of your affections and an unknown substance.

Only time will tell what will happen to the two of you next.

***

Nothing.

Nothing has happened! God, you are so bored.

“How long are we supposed to be stuck in here?” you ask.

“So far, it’s uncertain. This is an unknown substance. But we must stay isolated so as not to pass along the contagion. We both came in contact with the substance particles, so we may eventually show symptoms.” Harrison hums.

“What?” you ask.

“This unforeseen circumstance may be worth taking notes. For posterity. Do you have a pen?”

Naturally, Harrison would find a way to take this unfortunate situation and turn it into a learning experience.

Always a scientist.

Maybe that’s why you admire him so much. Well, more than just admire…

At first, time passes incredibly slowly. You don’t know what to say in the awkward silence between you and Doctor Wells, so you try to keep yourself busy. This proves extremely difficult, however. All there is in this room are Caitlin’s medical journals, test tubes and various other tools, and a medical bed. Yes, there is a computer, but it was set up solely for data entry. No internet. Not even so much as Solitaire!

And the metal barriers seem to have blocked out all signals to your phone.

Even Doctor Wells’ chess set was out in the other room!

This is hopeless.

You hop up on the medical bed and recline a bit. You’re starting to feel a little strange, but you can’t figure out what exactly is wrong with you. Is this one of the symptoms, or have you finally gone mad from being cooped up? You start to mentally examine yourself.

Your skin tingles, but in a good way - not like how it burned earlier. Your entire body feels comfortably warm, and you find that when your eyes fall on Doctor Wells, that’s when you start to feel hotter.

The man sits in the corner of the room, studying one of the journals. Every so often, he’ll lick his finger and turn the page...

You swallow hard, now wholly distracted by his lips. They’re so pink it should be a crime. But the real outrage is the curves of his arms. At first, you were going to ask whether he wears such muscle-defining sweaters like this all the time, but really you know the answer to that is yes. Your eyes take you on a vicious cycle of drinking him in, admiring every piece of perfection that is Harrison Wells.

“Miss (Y/L/N)? Are you feeling alright?” he shakes you from your ogling.

“Huh, what? I think so…”

“Are you developing any symptoms?”

Is horniness one of them?

“I’m not sure.”

“Write down what you’re feeling, anyway,” he suggests. “It could be helpful.”

You do so, taking the pen and paper you’d found earlier and jot down what you’d been feeling. You’re noticing a bit of lightheadedness too, so you add that to the list. But you hear something mid-scrawl.

“Did you know that you’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever laid eyes on?”’

You lift your head. Did he just…?

“I’m sorry, w-what?” you stutter. Doctor Wells removes his glasses in one motion, letting one of its arms touch his lips, which bend up into a smirk. He wheels over to you in the bed, the closer he gets, the hotter and unsteadier you become. Your vision seems altered - rosier than usual.

“I believe you heard me correctly,” he answers, “and I mean it. You make me want to…”

“Want to what?” If you don’t settle yourself down now, you’re going to jump the man.

“It isn’t proper what I want to say.”

Oh, now he’s holding back?

Fuck it. You need to know. You slide your legs off the bed and, without much further thought, kneel between his widespread legs on his chair. Your hands gripping the armrests instead of literally anywhere on the man himself like you would prefer. Leaning in close, so much so that you share the same dangerous breath.

“I need you to tell me,” you beg.

Doctor Wells just blinks at you, then frowns.

Wait. Something’s not right here.

You pull back and examine the situation, and then the scariest words come from his mouth:

“Miss (Y/L/N)? What are you doing?”

You try your damndest not to scream. Did you just hallucinate all that? Oh God, I imagined him coming on to me, didn’t I??

Jumping back far away from him, you turn around to hold your head in your hands. Is this all one big fever dream? Is this a symptom? What’s real? What’s not? You sure as hell don’t know anymore. All you do know is that you’re hot and bothered and almost mauled your boss because of it.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me,” you say. “I’m just…” You’re completely frazzled. “I’m just going to write it down.”

New symptom: horny hallucinations

You try to let the next half an hour pass without feeling this strange woozy sensation. In doing so, you close your eyes and concentrate on your breathing while lying down. But it’s still too hot. You’re still too hot. You remove the sweater, entirely forgetting that you aren’t alone in this room. Doctor Wells has been quiet for far too long. And it would appear he’s been watching you. His elbow rests on his chair, hand covering his mouth as his eyes rake over your body. You look down to his lap, an accident.

Good Lord, he’s got…

The curve of him is all too apparent in his pants. The way he’s sitting only draws attention to it. It’s like you have instantaneous tunnel vision. His growing self is all you see and all you care about. You go to him, no longer wondering or caring if this is all an illusion, it’s not even a thought in your brain. All that remains is this unrestrainable animal lust for his body. Consequences be damned. You kneel in front of him.

“(Y/N)...” he exhales. He doesn’t sound stunned or taken aback by your extreme forwardness. Instead, it sounds like a warning.

“Suddenly not so formal, hm?” you say. “Good, because we’re about to get better acquainted anyway, Harrison.” Doctor Wells doesn’t make any motion for you to stop your advancements, just stares lustful daggers at you while you practically claw at the man’s buckle and zipper. You reach into his pants to wrap your hand around the single thing in this room that you believe can heal you. His sheer hardness is unveiled and in your firm grasp. Doctor Wells’ groan shifts into a growl. Well, hello. His brow furrows but in the sexiest goddamn way.

Heavens above, you’re desperate to taste this man, eat him, swallow him, consume him.

New symptom: salivation

Your tongue darts out for a slow lick. But the slowness doesn’t last because the need is greater than anything you’ve felt. Soon, you surround your lips around his cock and take him further in your mouth. Further, letting the underside of him brush against your flattened tongue. On your way back down, you swirl around him, which makes your colleague, your employer reach a hand into your hair. He grips a handful at the base of your head. Harder. Pull it harder.

Doctor Wells does just that, and perhaps you did say out loud that after all? You aren’t sure of anything anymore other than you feel on fire, and you need more. Your blood hurtles through your veins. A ceaseless throb makes itself known between your legs. More so than before, that is.

Going in for the kill, you return your mouth to him, meanwhile reaching your own hand past the waistband of your jeans to touch yourself. You need to get off just as much as you want him to. You feel like you’ll keel over if you don’t deal with yourself too.

Harrison’s bobbing head stops to stare down at you.

“Are you-? Fuck, (Y/N), are you-?”

You hum around him in affirmation, and just after you do, the scientist pushes you off of him. In any other situation, you might be mortified that a man told you to stop blowing him, but this is no ordinary situation. Your vision blurs for a second in a surge of lust. You’re like an animal that’s just been denied their meal. There’s so much more to eat.

You stand up, chest heaving, and positively do not believe what you witness next.

Doctor Wells’ hands clutch the chair’s armrests again, but then you watch as he moves his foot. He takes a step onto the floor, then stands to a full six feet. It’s a fucking miracle- no. It truly is a hallucination. A dream. It’s a fantasy.

There’s a flash of danger in his eyes, while yours widen, big and round as his prey. The tables have turned. He’s stalking you, walking you back until you hit the metal barrier where the door once was. Captured.

This hallucination is fucking wild and I am here for it.

Might as well give in to the symptoms, right?

Harrison leans down by your ear and inhales your scent. Sweat, desire, desperation.

“I can’t resist you,” he says as if it’s difficult to even speak through the palpable sexual tension.

“I’d always imagined you saying that,” you confess, because why not? This isn’t real anyway. “I can’t resist you either.”

“I’m aware,” he chuckles into your neck, where his mouth quickly attaches. You swallow twice. “You seemed rather hungry back there.” Your pulse is starting to skyrocket again.

“Still am.” Your fingers find the hem of his soft black sweater and begin to lift it up over him. Might as well indulge in this glorious sex dream. Harrison helps you of course. He seems to want this as much as you. You’re both a series of grabbing hands, flexing muscles, and greedy touches as each and every article of clothing finds its rightful place on the floor.

Fucking hell, sex-fantasy Doctor Wells looks like an actual god. Part of your brain wonders how much of his usually-covered appearance is accurate. The rest of your brain (and another part in particular) thinks, Get in me.

The look on his face says it all. He’s going to ravage you.

Harrison, faster than you could ever imagine, spins you so that your exposed breasts press against the metal barrier. Your palms rest flat against the cool metal as well, bracing yourself for whatever the man has planned. Whatever it is, you want it. Now.

His hands run down your arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake despite your entire body feeling hot as all hell. He steps closer, so close that his whole body presses against the back of yours. His still hard cock digs into you from behind. You reach around and take hold of it and start to pump. The scientist rumbles into your neck, where he licks and nips and sucks and fuck- bites. You squeal. By the way his body twitches, you think he rather enjoyed hearing you like that.

If you weren’t already a mess, Harrison’s fingers take over the job you tried to accomplish on yourself earlier. His fingers are greeted by your already sopping desire.

“You really were serious, weren’t you?” he says at the slippery feel of you. “Do I always arouse you like this?”

“God, you don’t even know.” It comes out a bit strangled. “All the time.”

“Are you ready for me?”

“Do you seriously need to ask?”

He doesn’t answer you, but instead takes his length to press it against you from behind. Finallyfinallyfinally. A little more. Just a bit more. More. Further in. With each inch, you whine for all of him. Doctor Wells growls into your shoulder once he’s reached as far as he’s able to sheath himself inside you.

It’s only when he starts a steady pace of thrusts that you almost believe this is all real. The feeling in your gut tells you it’s real, but the rest of you insists it’s a very very heated symptom. His mouth is still attacking your neck, any bit of skin he can get to. The current mark he’s leaving is starting to hurt but in the best way.

“Fuck,” you swear, knowing your climax is just on the horizon. You’re nearly there. “Faster. Faster,” you ask of him with what little ability you have to form words. Doctor Wells chuckles, almost evilly, into your ear.

“That I can do,” he replies. His hips snap repeatedly, a deliciously rapid speed. Skin against skin slaps to quick beat. His fingers circle at the same pace. And with a surprise, sharp smack to your ass, this wicked combination is your undoing.

You come apart like a crumbling mess, crying out as you do as the man repeatedly slams into you, now seemingly for his own gain. It’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before, an orgasm this powerful, is it even possible to have one this...

***

You blink your eyes open.

You’re still in the medbay, but the barriers on the door and windows have been lifted. And you’re definitely still clothed in your S.T.A.R. Labs sweater and jeans. So it was all a crazy dream?

Regardless, you’re never going to be able to look Doctor Wells in the eye ever again.

Speaking of the man…

He rolls in on his chair with a pleasant and calm smile.

“Feeling alright, Miss (Y/L/N)?” he asks, concerned. “You took quite a spill earlier.”

“I did?”

“Yes.”

You don’t remember falling. You remember a whole lot of an X-rated fantasy, though.

“I didn’t, um…” you aren’t sure how to phrase this. “I didn’t do anything embarrassing or potentially fireable, did I?”

Doctor Wells raises an eyebrow in one of his classic moves. “I don’t believe so. Other than the falling, of course. But you needn’t feel embarrassed about that. It could have happened to anyone.”

You nod slowly, relieved that you didn’t blow your boss under the influence and proceed to fuck against a wall. Although… no. No. You are relieved. Yes.

“I see the barriers are up,” you note. “I take it that isolation is no longer required?”

“You would be correct,” Harrison confirms. “Doctor Snow rushed in, with the appropriate hazmat gear and did some tests. You were out long enough for the results to come back. We’re in the clear.”

“Well, that’s good news.”

“Quite.” Harrison smiles at you, but there’s something different this time than previously. You aren’t sure what it is. “I will leave you now. Feel free to take a few days off. I know that was probably a lot to take in.”

“Right. Yes, right, thank you, I will.”

“Take care, (Y/N).” Harrison wheels away out of the room and out to the corridor. You take a breath and step out of the bed, feeling a bit uncomfortable as you walk. And then, in the reflection of one of the mirrors on Caitlin's work desk, you see it.

A deep-purple mark on your neck.

When you press your fingers to it, it hurts a bit. It’s fresh. But how can that be…?

Can that-?

Did he really-?

But then that means…

Oh shit.

Anonymous Request: Hey dear🤗 I want to request a EoWells story. Reader gets exposed to a VERY powerful aphrodisiac at star labs and the reader asks harrison to help her😏. And he gets exposed to it too. And both go totally crazy and do shameless dirty stuff to each other and together (maybe they always had feelings for each other). And Harrison reveals his secret( that's he's not paralyzed) to get more and more from her. Lots of smut!🙈 Plus add whatever you like. can you plz?🙏🏻

#reader insert #anon request #harrison wells x reader #harrison wells imagine #harrison wells fanfiction #eowells x reader #eowells imagine #eobard thawne x reader #eobard thawne imagine #the flash imagine #the flash smut #the flash fanfiction #harrison wells smut

403 notes · View notes

elvendara · 4 years ago

Text

Mysme RBB

My second piece I did for the @mysme-rbb ! A little Jaehee X MC angst.

My partner for this was @lonely_weeb_art (will post link when available for the art)

It was such a blast to do this, my first ever BB! I met many new friends and reconnected with some old ones! I love Mystic Messenger and hope to have many more years of fan content!

Thank you @mysme-rbb for putting this together. Nod to the mods! Who were super awesome!!

MC giggled, her long brown hair fluttering around her shoulders. She was glued to her phone, her golden-brown eyes sparkling with amusement.

“What’s so funny?” Jaehee asked as she wiped the counter down in her kitchen. A little too roughly perhaps.

“Oh it’s just Zenny!” MC said as she waved at Jaehee.

“You’ve been texting a lot with Zen lately.” she said off handedly.

“He’s entertaining.” The brunette said, not taking her eyes off her phone, her fingers flashing across the small keypad, a smile from ear to ear.

“I... thought you were here to see me.” Jaehee stated, trying to be lighthearted.

“Aw, are you feeling jealous?”

“No. Just, well, like I said, you’ve been getting pretty close to Zen lately, is there something I should know?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” MC’s smile was completely gone as she stood from where she had been comfortably laying on Jaehee’s sofa. Her eyes flashed angrily.

Jaehee sighed as she swept her coffee brown hair behind her ear. Since leaving Jumin’s employ she had begun to grow it out again. “It doesn’t mean anything.” she leaned into wiping the counter with her sponge even harder, not meeting MC’s eyes.

“I think it means something. Go ahead, say it.” MC put fists on her hips and the look on her face suddenly broke Jaehee.

“OK, fine.” she stopped scrubbing, throwing the sponge into the pristine sink and placed her own fists on her hips, mirroring the shorter woman. “You text and talk to Zen a lot. Even when we’re supposed to be doing something together. Last week when we went to the street fair your phone pinged continuously. You even kept taking your hand out of mine so you could text him back. Look, I like Zen, I always have, but I think you two are too close. Am I jealous? I don’t know, should I be?” she finished, her voice rising steadily.

“You are unbelievable!” MC stormed towards the door, kicking off her slippers and shoving her feet into her shoes aggressively.

“Am I? You came over today to spend some time with me, we were supposed to watch a movie and maybe just cuddle on the sofa, but all you’ve done the whole evening is stay glued to that phone! Talking to him. Him! Not me!”

“You’ve crossed a line Jaehee, and I can’t believe you don’t see that.” MC’s words were muffled by tears that began to fall.

“Go on then! Go! I’m sure Zen will have a ready shoulder for you to cry on!” Jaehee could barely hold her own tears back. She had never raised her voice this way. There was so much anger in her at the moment and it frightened her. Perhaps it was better that MC was not around her now.

“I am!” MC screamed as she yanked the front door and slammed it behind her with a loud ring of finality.

As the door closed Jaehee’s body trembled and she fell to her knees, body wracked with sobs. She was terrified that she would never see MC again, that she had just ruined her relationship. It was still so new and maybe she was overreacting? But no, maybe she could have brought up the subject a little more delicately, but the constant texting and calling with Zen had begun to interfere with their time together.

^^*^^

MC strode down the sidewalk, jaw clenched, brown eyes glaring so hard people jumped out of her way. Her long hair flew behind her as she ran through the first argument she and Jaehee had ever had. How dare she! Was Zen only supposed to be friends with Jaehee? How many nights had they stayed up together and watched Zen, giggling like schoolgirls at his amazing acting ability? Shaking their heads at all the fangirls who threw themselves at him on social media?

Did she really think that’s what she was doing? Fangirling over Zen? Or worse? Actually believing they could have a relationship? How hard had MC fought to convince Jaehee of her feelings for her? And she was jealous of Zen?

Her muddled thoughts went round and round. Recounting each and every communication she’d had with Zen. Jaehee talked to him too! But did she talk to him as much as MC? As she thought about it, she realized that while Jaehee was a religious cheerleader for Zen and his career, she never took it to the extreme. Her conversations with Zen were about his career and his plans. They were friends, but first and foremost she was a fan who held Zen at arm’s length. Something, someone, to be admired.

MC choked up as the realization hit her. She had been spending too much time talking to Zen. Calling, texting, hanging out. Even tonight. Jaehee had cooked for them and all she could think of was listening to Zen’s drama about his current acting partner. About her not-so-subtle attempts at seducing the man. As soon as dinner was over, she took herself to the sofa and plopped down to get the low down on the day’s events from him. She hadn’t even thanked Jaehee for the meal, the candles, the romantic lighting and music. Jaehee had fled from her thoughts.

This led her to other times in which she had ignored her girlfriend in preference of Zen’s company. Of course Jaehee saw it as a threat. Although MC had no romantic feelings for the man, she hadn’t been acting like a loving and caring girlfriend. She sighed as she realized what a giant ass she had been and an even greater one with her defensiveness tonight. She should turn around and go apologize immediately. But first, she would go to the flower shop and buy a bouquet. Maybe some wine. And she would spend the rest of the night, no, the rest of the week making it up to her gorgeous girlfriend.

She pulled out the phone from her back pocket and muted it. No more Zen, or anyone else, for a while. She had some amending to do. Screeching tires reached her ears and a cacophony of screams. Startled she looked up, but too late. She was in the middle of the street, her feet taking her towards the flower shop without actively thinking about it. The car tried to stop, the driver wrenching his wheel to the right but it was too late. Its front end slammed into MC, sending her flying up and over the hood, smashing into the windshield. When the car came to a stop her body was flung forward, tumbling onto the road, she was narrowly missed by oncoming traffic. The sounds of striking metal rang through the air, the smell of burnt rubber and gas mingled together, the atmosphere becoming hazy with thickening smoke. MC lay, broken and battered on the ground as a crowd gathered around her.

^^*^^

Jaehee heard something that sounded like a crash, but she couldn't’ be bothered to care. She lay on the sofa and wept. How could a simple fight hurt this much? Had she just lost her lover? Over what? Zen? Of course MC didn’t care for him like she cared for her, but it was still difficult to share her girlfriend with someone that much. Was she wrong to feel this way? She had hoped they could have a romantic evening and was going to ask MC to stay the night. She berated herself but was conflicted. One second she wanted to take it all back, beg Mc to come back and forget everything she had said, the next she felt self-righteous and justified in bringing up the wall that seemed to come up between them lately.

As the glaring of the sirens in the distance grew closer her muddled mind began to work again. Whatever had happened it was close. She began to worry. It hadn’t been that long since MC left. In fact, the sounds of an apparent accident could very well have happened near her, depending on which direction she’d gone. Worry getting the better of her she reached for her phone and dialed her number. It rang and rang. Nobody answering. Maybe it was just because she was still mad at her. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end and she had to move.

She leapt to her feet and ran out the door. It wasn’t difficult to determine where the accident had taken place once she hit the street. There was a large cloud of smoke to her left at the closest intersection to her apartment. A large crowd of people were gathered around three vehicles. There were several police cruisers and an ambulance at the sight. She looked around to see if she could spot MC but found nothing. Desperately she ran towards the crowd, needing to make sure that her fear was unfounded.

As she broke through the crowd, she saw paramedics lifting a body from the ground. The brown hair with red highlights shining in the sun looking all too familiar. She shook her head, it couldn’t be, lots of people had that hair. Making it into the center she could no longer deny what she saw. Those were MC’s clothes. That was her hand hanging off the stretcher. She screamed and ran through the barricades. A police officer stopped her, tried to restrain her but she stomped on his foot and reached MC as they were putting her in the ambulance.

“MC!” she cried. She tried to grab a hold of her wrist, but she was once again denied.

“Do you know this woman?” an officer, a different one than the one she had assaulted, asked her.

“YES! Please! Is she...is she...” she couldn’t say it. She didn’t want to know if it was true.

“She’s alive.” One of the paramedics answered right before closing the door.

“Please!” she wanted to go with her, but the ambulance was already gone. Her heart raged at a hundred miles a minute. Blood pulsing so loudly that her ears heard nothing but muffled sound. The policeman was asking her something and she had to try and clear her head before she could hear accurately.

“Ma’am. Can you tell us who she is? Are you alright?”

“No! No I’m not alright I need to go with her!” she tried to yank herself free but there were more officers now.

“Someone will take you to the hospital I promise. Right now I need you to give me some information.”

“What...what happened?” she was delirious, looking around, there was a red car behind her with a broken windshield and two other cars that had been going in the opposite direction. The white truck had hit a light pole and the blue car had hit it from behind. It all made no sense and still she was unable to leave. Every car was empty but there didn’t seem to be any other injured people, only the love of her life.

“Is the woman your friend?” this time it was a female officer who asked her. Jaehee blinked at the shorter woman and shook her head.

“N... no... she...she’s my girlfriend. Please, I... I need to be with her.” she pleaded.

“Alright.” The female officer nodded with understanding. She spoke to a few other officers and led her to one of the cruisers. She opened the door to the back of the vehicle and Jaehee climbed in, numb and terrified.

During the ride she had the presence of mind to call Jumin and let him know what had happened. She'd had to ask the officers which hospital they were going to. Once they arrived, they showed her to a waiting room and informed the staff who she was there for. It didn’t take long for the rest of the RFA to join her. Jumin spoke to the nurses and took control of the situation, giving the officers the information they requested about MC. She was grateful.

The night was long and stressful, Jaehee still felt fuzzy and not all there. She began to cry when she saw Zen and remembered the ridiculous fight they’d had. The man was no threat to her relationship, he wasn’t that kind of man. It had been her own jealousy that was the threat. How would she ever forgive herself if MC didn’t make it? Zen held her and let her cry, telling her that everything was going to be alright. That MC was a fighter and she wouldn’t want Jaehee to give up.

It was early morning when the doctor finally came out to give them an update.

“How is she?” Jumin asked, his grey eyes etched with worry.

“The next few days will be important. She’ll have to remain in ICU so we can keep an eye on her progress. There was extensive internal bleeding, her spleen was ruptured and there are several broken bones. It will be a long recovery but she’s young and strong. We’re hopeful.”

Jaehee breathed a sigh of relief as did everyone in the room. Yoosung’s sobs subsided and Saeran held onto him tightly. Saeyoung took off his glasses and wiped them absently, his eyes still red-rimmed. Jumin put an arm around Jaehee and gave her a gentle and encouraging smile. Zen did the same.

“Can I see her?” she asked through a tear-stained face.

“Of course. Unfortunately only one person is allowed into the ICU room at a time.” They nodded in understanding, knowing Jaehee would be the only one to be with her until she was moved to a regular room. “One of the nurses will take you back.” he nodded to them and left.

A nurse took Jaehee by the arm and led her through the locked double doors. The whoosh startled her and she blinked rapidly, trying to gain her bearings. She’d never felt so out of sorts. She had always been strong. She’d had to be most of her life. She never let anything keep her down no matter what. But this was not something she could power through. It was taking all of her self-control not to run down the sanitized hall screaming for her MC.

They made it to the room, and she felt as if she was going to faint at the sight of the beautiful woman who lay broken and battered on the hospital bed with tubes coming out of her from both arms. She fell back but the nurse was there to steady her and help her to a chair.

The woman pulled the chair as close as she could and reached out to hold MC’s hand. It was warm and that was comforting. She was breathing on her own and that was also comforting. The sheet was pulled up to her chest, her arms above it. She couldn’t see what was underneath but perhaps that was a good thing. There was a cast on her right leg and on her left arm.

“I’m so sorry MC. I was an idiot! I know you love me and would never hurt me on purpose. I should have tried to discuss how I was feeling instead of assuming you were doing something wrong or inconsiderate. I should have...I... please don’t leave me!” she sobbed and clutched at her hand begging and pleading with God to keep her alive. She felt pathetic but she couldn’t help it! She clutched at the cross around her neck and prayed. Pleading for healing. For a chance to make it right. As she prayed, she felt MC’s fingers close around hers.

#my posts #mysmerbb #JaeheeXMC #angst #accident #Jaehee Kang #RFA #MC #jealousy #lonely_weeb_art

12 notes · View notes

artificialqueens · 4 years ago

Text

Whenever I’m Alone With You (Tia/Veronica) - Juno

Summary: Tia and Veronica take an eventful day trip to the seaside. They start the day as friends. Will that be the case by the end of the day?

(A/N: It’s taken me a little while but I’m finally happy with this so here is some Greentia for anyone who wants DRUK stuff. No CWs it’s mostly fluffy with some h/c. I hope you enjoy.)

Brighton was supposed to be well-known for having the best beaches in the UK. Student city? Sure. Queer-friendly? Yes. But the beach? Mostly stones. Stones as far as the eye could see along the coastline.

Disappointing, Tia thought to herself as she leaned against the intricate Victorian iron fence surrounding the beach. I expected white sand and palm trees from the way the uni welcome pack hyped it up. I’ll give it a four out of ten.

Still, the seaside was alright. It almost felt like being back in Clacton. The usual fairground rides, a Ferris wheel, the pier out over the sea littered with people, and seagulls brave enough to steal your wallet let alone your chips.

It was October and for some reason it was sunny and warm this Saturday, and Tia had come to the seaside to relish what would probably be the last warm-ish day of the year. What seemed to be the entire population of East Sussex had also taken that view, and the beach was crowded with people chasing the last strands of summer sun.

Tia preferred to be here on the pavement above the beach, breathing in the salty sea air, and listening to the waves, wondering how something so forceful sounded so peaceful.

“Nice day.”

Veronica’s soft voice behind her served as a reminder that Tia wasn’t alone.

Out of her three new housemates, Veronica hadn’t been Tia’s first choice in wanting someone to spend the day at the seaside with, but Aurora and Ellie had already gone out. They’d only lived in their halls for just over a month, but Aurora and Ellie were already almost joined at the hip, spending all day together when they weren’t in lectures.

There were four of them on their floor of the halls, all women. Tia had instantly bonded with Ellie, who bubbled with fun and was most content when she was making people laugh. It had taken a little longer to get to know Aurora, who was hard as nails but whose loyalty to her friends was endless. And then there was Veronica. Veronica had avoided most of the freshers’ social activities, barely leaving her room, and in doing so, became something of a loner.

She’d asked Veronica to go with her out of politeness, but also out of some vague fascination with her. Tia knew they were friends - if the last month had shown them anything, they were definitely friends - but she didn’t know enough about Veronica to know if it would be a fleeting friendship or a lasting one.

After all, Tia thought to herself as she watched Veronica getting black lipstick all over the cone, we don’t really have much in common on the surface.

“Yeah, it’s a really nice day,” Tia nodded at her finally, taking another lick of the ice cream Veronica had bought her.

The quiet resumed between them; not an uncomfortable sound, Tia noticed, but one that simply didn’t need to be filled with noise. It made a change from Ellie, always game for a laugh, and Aurora, who had an opinion to give on everything. But Tia liked the quiet time they shared. The only sound was the rush of the sea, and Veronica humming some tune that Tia recognised vaguely, but not enough to know.

There was a clatter as Veronica’s parasol dropped to the ground beside her. Veronica smiled apologetically as she leaned to pick it up. Tia knew some people with some - interesting fashion choices, but Veronica was the only person she knew with an actual parasol, black like the rest of her outfit.

“Do you always wear black?” Tia asked.

Veronica’s huff and rehearsed reply said it all. “Yes, I always wear black, I sleep in a coffin, and it’s Halloween every bloody day.”

“I mean - don’t you get really warm in summer?”

Veronica seemed to consider the question. “Not really. The skirt is quite thin material, and -“

“But it’s all black.”

“So?”

“Well, it traps heat,” Tia said.

Veronica looked down at herself, cocking an eyebrow, turning back to look at Tia. “Yeah, I suppose so. At least I look, you know, hot.”

Tia blinked at Veronica, who held her gaze expectantly.

“No, sorry, Vee, that was just crap. That was such a bad dad joke.” Tia shook her head in exasperation. “Honestly! I thought goths were meant to be funnier than that.”

Veronica sighed. “Yeah, well, me too.”

Her contemplative stare out to the sea was evidently meant to be intense, but no one, not even someone as goth as Veronica, could ever look too intense while eating an ice cream.

“Is that why you bought me an ice cream in the first place?” Tia asked, still teasing, trying to coax Veronica to open up a little more. “Were you trying to make up for your dad jokes in advance?”

Veronica managed a smile. “Partly. And - partly to say thanks for sticking up for me last night.”

Last night. Tia cringed internally.

“Yeah, well,” Tia muttered, shuffling uncomfortably. “You were homesick. You didn’t need that.”

Veronica’s stare was fixed on the horizon as she continued. “I … don’t think I realised how homesick I would be.”

“It’s normal, Vee. You’re not - you don’t have to put on a hard front just because you like wearing black; you’re allowed to be emotional too. It’s not like the rest of us haven’t been homesick as well.” Tia gave her a nudge in the shoulder. “You saw me bawling about it, didn’t you?”

——

All it had taken for Tia to get homesick was for that Doja Cat song to come on Tia’s shuffle while she was waiting for the kettle to boil.

It was Thursday morning, the week after lectures started, and Tia was already feeling like shit. The reality that she was here to study had kicked in, and she’d spent half the night awake worrying about her first assignment. But when the song had come on, Tia had been instantly flooded with the memory of her mum attempting that TikTok dance with her, falling about in laughter when she’d failed. That had been enough for Tia to break down, sobbing so hard that she didn’t have the energy to finish making her cup of tea.

Aurora hadn’t come home the previous night, spending the night at Tayce’s halls after Wicked Wednesdays at the union bar, and Ellie’s 8.15 lecture had already started; so Tia knew that when she heard a creaking of the door in the hallway that it would be Veronica.

“What’s up, love?” She’d whispered cautiously, but Tia had just cried harder at her words, so she’d simply rubbed her back and shoulders and made her a brew as Tia had tried to stop crying.

“D’you miss your mum?” Veronica had asked, peering up at her in concern, Tia’s free hand clasped tenderly in both of hers.

“I’m sorry, I’m being stupid,” Tia had managed to mumble through her tears.

“Don’t say that, you’re not being stupid at all,” Veronica had soothed, looping her hand into the crook of Tia’s elbow. “Tell you what, come into my room and we’ll put on a film, eh?”

“I - I have a lecture at 11 -“

“You’re not going anywhere, someone will get you the notes.”

Tia was surprised at how determined Veronica was to take care of her, pulling her into her immaculately tidy room and setting the tablet up with Netflix. She hadn’t expected Veronica’s first choice in a comfort film to be Finding Nemo, or for Veronica to toss the blankets over both of them and curl up next to Tia, handing her tea and the pack of Hobnobs that she’d only bought the day before.

They didn’t really speak at all.

Tia felt herself calm down gradually, laughing and tearing up at the film, passing biscuits back and forth with Veronica, sharing the progression of emotions with her as they came and went.

It was a depth of care that Tia felt to her bones.

Not that the other two girls on their floor would have been bad company. She knew that Aurora would have given her a hug and a peck on the cheek, told her she was amazing and she was smashing it and how much she herself was feeling the pressure of being away from home too. She knew that Ellie would have cracked a few jokes and tried to make her laugh, maybe telling her a funny story of something she’d seen Aurora do, or one of the scores of new friends she’d already made.

They both would have tried to be helpful in the best and most loving way they knew how.

But Tia wouldn’t have been able to take in encouragement from Aurora, and she didn’t want to laugh even if Ellie had succeeded in making her.

Somehow Veronica knew that Tia didn’t need someone to make noise for the sake of noise. She didn’t need hugs. She just needed … company. She just needed someone there to be with her.

“Thanks, Vee,” Tia had said finally, unable to meet Veronica’s eyes. “I - I feel a lot better now.”

“It’s alright,” Veronica had murmured, threading her fingers into Tia’s and squeezing. “Come back any time.”

——

“What made you want to come to Brighton?” Veronica asked, breaking into Tia’s memories.

They had moved to a free spot on the beach itself, sitting on a towel under Veronica’s parasol - seriously, why did she have a parasol? - the heat now starting to break as the evening drew in. Tia was taking a swig from her bottle of water, while Veronica was digging into the sand with her hands, pulling up handfuls and letting the grains slip through her fingers.

Tia shrugged in response. “The course. Being by the coast. Lesbians. The usual.”

“Oh.” Veronica stifled a laugh. “Like me then. The usual.”

The forced nonchalance of her tone made Tia snort with laughter.

“Where are you from again?” Tia asked her.

“Lancashire. Took five hours for my dad to drive me down here last month. Five bloody hours.” Veronica held up five fingers as if she hadn’t given enough emphasis already. “I wanted to come here for a bit of a fresh start, I suppose. No one I know from school went this far south. I thought maybe I’d have - I don’t know. A reinvention. A renaissance, fitting on my History course, eh?”

“Yeah,” Tia nodded.

“But you can’t shake off the old habits,” Veronica muttered darkly.

“What do you mean?”

“People - just thinking I’m stuck-up.” Veronica sighed, digging back into the sand. “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.”

——

The previous night had been tense. Aurora’s friend Tayce had asked about the roommate who never seemed to leave her room, and Aurora had groaned an exaggerated groan, running her hands through her hair.

“I’m so sick of Veronica’s martyr act,” Aurora had declared at the sound of Veronica’s name, her voice ringing in the kitchen and through the open doorway to the hall.

“Don’t be stupid,” Tia had said, nudging Aurora in the ribs. “She’s not a martyr.”

“She is. She’s playing the martyr. I mean, she’s nice when you speak to her,” Aurora had shrugged, “but she doesn’t really want to talk to us, does she? She doesn’t make an effort, it’s always us making the effort with her. Like she’s too good for us. We’re just normal and she’s special just because she likes some bloody moody bands from the eighties.”

Tayce had raised her eyebrows, grinning her usual wolfish grin and sniggering silently behind her hand.

“She doesn’t think she’s special,” Tia had retorted, but Aurora had just rolled her eyes.

“It annoys me. People like her want to be different but they are all the same as each other. They want to conform to show that they don’t conform. How does that make sense? She just wants the attention.”

That was when they’d all heard the door slam.

“Good going, Aurora,” Tia had hissed. “She must have heard you.”

Aurora had chewed her tongue nervously, a flush creeping up her neck, but she stood her ground. “Whatever. I’m not wrong, am I?”

“You are wrong, actually,” Tia had replied, her voice suddenly louder than Aurora’s, “because you just don’t give her the chance. She’s not playing anything. She’s just - I don’t know, shy. And missing her home. And I bet you’re not making it any easier for her to feel like she can come talk to you. Leave her alone.”

Tayce’s sniggers had become too loud to cover up, and she turned to bury her face into Aurora’s shoulder. Aurora, her face now red as a tomato, had chewed her lips and shaken her head in exasperation.

“Whatever.”

With that, she’d swept away to her own room, Tayce on her heels. Tia had hung back, remembering Veronica’s kindness towards her, knowing that she was probably going through it as well. Ellie and Aurora had both had tough days, too. They all had.

Tia had stopped outside Veronica’s room and knocked gently at her door.

“Vee?”

But Veronica didn’t answer initially. Tia knew it was wrong to barge in, but she’d found the door unlocked.

“I’m opening the door - tell me to go - or I’m coming in -“

But Veronica had called “Come in” in the smallest voice, and Tia pushed the door open.

Veronica was curled on her side on the bed, staring at the wall, tracing the paint on it with her finger. When Tia had pushed the door closed and sat on the bed next to Veronica, she could see that her face was red and patchy and her eyes bloodshot.

“Is that really what they all think? That I’m an attention-seeker?”

Her voice had broken as she spoke. She rolled onto her back to face Tia, searching her eyes for honesty, and Tia thought she seemed as angry as she was upset at the way she had been spoken about.

Tia had shaken her head. “I don’t think that. I think -”

I think you’re really lovely.

The words wouldn’t come out, and Tia realised that they went deeper than she’d previously thought. But Veronica’s eyes had softened, and she’d laid her hand on Tia’s, almost as if she’d heard her thoughts. “Thank you.”

——

“They’re nice, you know, Aurora and Tayce are,” Tia replied, and Veronica looked up at her. “Just - I don’t know - don’t be scared of them.”

“Aurora’s got some preconceived idea about me because of how I look.”

“Okay, but you do too,” Tia sighed. “You think Aurora and Tayce won’t want to talk to you because they’re the coolcrowd. I get it, I feel like that too sometimes. But Aurora just takes a bit of time to get to know, and trust me, she’s just tough for show; she’s really sweet and caring underneath it all. Like you,” Tia added.

“I guess.” Veronica muttered.

“I mean - you’re right, things don’t just change when you move away, you have to make them change.”

Veronica huffed.

“You know I’m right,” Tia said.

“Yeah, I do. Sorry.” She shrugged dismissively. “Dad always tells me off for being stubborn. Maybe Aurora had a point.”

A seagull landed dangerously near to Veronica, and she kicked out at it. When it didn’t immediately fly away, Tia sat up on her knees and waved a hand, until it scurried away to a safe distance.

“This place is giving me lots of Clacton vibes.” Tia stretched out her legs again. “My mum used to take me there every summer, and it’s the same as here! Some sand, some chips in a cone, seagulls shitting everywhere, a few rides, you get the idea.”

“Rides?” Veronica spun to Tia at that word, her eyes lighting up suddenly. “I didn’t know if you liked rides! Do you want to go on a ride on the pier? Or the Ferris wheel or something? Is there a waltzer? I love the waltzers, oh my God -“

“I don’t know, do I! I’ve only lived here for as long as you have!”

But Tia couldn’t have resisted the spark of joy that came to Veronica’s face if she’d tried, holding back laughter at Veronica’s sudden burst of enthusiasm. She got up and pulled Veronica to her feet, and Veronica hooked a hand through Tia’s arm in what was becoming a wonderfully familiar gesture, to pull her along the seafront towards the pavilion and the amusement arcade.

“Waltzers!” Veronica cried, squeezing Tia’s arm and pointing at the waltzers fifty yards away. She dragged Tia towards them with surprising strength for such a tiny woman.

But Tia was worried. Is this the time to mention I’ve never been on them? That I hate spinning round and round?

“Am I gonna vom?” Tia asked nervously. “I don’t want to vom. Do they spin you?”

“Yeah, they do, but you won’t puke, promise.”

“You sure?” Tia eyed the waltzer, but Veronica nodded earnestly.

“Yeah, I’m sure. My brother gets car sick and he loves the waltzers too, come on, you’ll be fine.”

Partly, Tia was watching the other people in the booths shrieking with delight as they spun in their booths, but mostly, she saw a happy side to Veronica that she hadn’t seen a great deal of, and found she wanted to experience it with her.

Things don’t just change when you move away, you have to make them change.

“Alright, I’m coming on.”

The next three minutes were a blur. A fast, dizzying blur. Tia just remembered screaming until her throat hurt and clinging onto the bar for dear life as she leaned into Veronica, who screeched loud enough to wake the actual dead, the g-force sticking them to each other and the back of the booth like glue.

But it was so fun that Tia wanted to go again.

“Vee,” Tia muttered, as they stepped back off, “I’m covered in your nail marks, hun.” She showed Veronica her forearm, where her nails had dug in, leaving tiny crescent-moon indents in her skin.

Veronica grimaced. “Sorry. Can I make it up to you?”

“Another ice cream?”

“I was thinking of Spoons.” Veronica pointed to the pub on the seafront. “It’s getting too cold here now for ice cream.”

——

The sun had set and the seafront had a definite chill in the air as Tia and Veronica sat together on the terrace outside Spoons. They watched the people around them as they passed, the ride operators for the kids rides as they packed away, and the daytime folk, as a handful of teenagers started to appear, getting on the rides themselves.

The rush of the waves as the tide crept in, and Veronica’s persistent humming, filled the space between them. Veronica had shuffled her chair right next to Tia’s, and the song was irritatingly familiar, but Tia couldn’t quite remember it.

“What is that song you keep humming?” Tia asked Veronica finally.

“Oh - nothing.” Veronica swallowed hard.

“Really?” Tia grinned at her. “Is it The Cure or something?”

“Yeah - yeah, it’s The Cure.” Veronica said quickly. “Disintegration. Great album.”

“It sounds like it,” Tia nodded, secretly hoping she’d never have to be subjected to it. Veronica fell completely silent after that, a little self-conscious, and Tia felt a little uncomfortable for the first time that day.

“That woman’s the fortune teller at the Pavillion,” Tia motioned as she passed, trying to ease the tension. “Tayce got her palm read by her at freshers’ week. She thought Tayce was from Yorkshire! She couldn’t even read her mind and see she’s Welsh!”

“Fortune telling?” Veronica shook her head. “Just a cheap trick, cold reading more like.”

“I can do it! Give me your hand and I’ll show you.”

Tia took Veronica’s nearest hand that lay on the table, and pulled it towards her. Veronica shuffled in even closer, leaning into Tia’s arm. She was much shorter than Tia, her chin only just resting on Tia’s shoulder, and Tia found her warm weight more distracting than she thought she would.

“So,” Tia mused, stroking her thumb slowly down Veronica’s palm, “this line here, that’s your life line, this long one here in the middle of your palm. See it?”

Veronica didn’t speak, but she gave a hum of agreement, her lips perking at the corners into a dreamy smile. Tia caught a hint of the surprisingly light floral perfume she wore, a vague scent of apple from her hair.

“This line here,” Tia mumbled, rapidly losing her train of thought, running a thumb along the palm of Veronica’s hand. “This line, it’s - your life line. I said that already. Erm. It means that you … spend your life … in lines. All sorts of lines. Lines for rides, lines at the shop, Tube lines -“

“Give over.” Veronica sounded almost a little disappointed. She took another swig of her drink, almost draining the glass.

“Your love of lines has been exposed now, Vee. You can’t hide it any longer.”

To her surprise, Veronica was laughing.

“I like that you’ve given me a nickname. No one else does. It’s nice. Feels like …” Her eyes were pensive, and she shrugged, unable to think of a word. “I don’t know. But I like it.”

Veronica’s tone was light and airy, but Tia felt goosebumps spread on her neck and arms at the sound of her voice, and her chest fluttered, filled with sudden butterflies.

This moment felt pivotal, like a turning point.

Are we - catching feelings?

Sure, Veronica was interesting enough, and kind - if a little stubborn - and every time they had been alone together, they seemed to have an instinctual connection that Tia couldn’t explain. But it felt quite fast, and still, Tia wasn’t quite sure what Veronica was feeling for her.

After all, Tia thought to herself, I’m just a maths nerd who makes crap jokes sometimes.

“And this line …” Tia moved her thumb up over Veronica’s palm, “this is the … the Bakerloo line and it means … there is maintenance over the weekend so plan your journey well in advance.”

Veronica nearly choked on the mouthful of her drink, instantly breaking the spell. “That makes no sense at all! Anyway, I’m more interested in this one,” Veronica added, putting down her glass and pointing, “that’s the love line. I know that much. What does that one say?”

“I was just getting to that one. Save the best for last and all.” Tia feigned exasperation as Veronica’s face grew more and more red even under her makeup.

“Your love line is here,” Tia began, looking back at Veronica, staring enraptured at her hand in Tia’s, her smile a mile wide. “And it says that … you … I don’t know, you’re going to meet a tall, beautiful stranger.”

Tia meant that to be casual, but Veronica curled her fingers around the thumb that was still stroking her palm, and gave it a squeeze.

“Alright,” she said softly, “maybe palm reading isn’t all bollocks.”

——

Tia found that she hadn’t wanted Veronica to let go of her hand.

Luckily, Veronica didn’t seem to want to let go, either.

Tia wasn’t the biggest fan of physical contact, and she hadn’t thought Veronica was either, until this evening, as they walked home, hand in hand this time, after the wine was drained. One glass of wine each wasn’t enough to make either of them drunk, but both of them were light and happy, even as they got back to the halls.

“Thanks for asking me to come with you,” Veronica said, her smile lighting up the rest of her face.

“Vee, you don’t have to thank me. You’re … I don’t know.” Tia sighed. “It was a fun day.”

The hallway was quiet and dark. Ellie and Aurora were still out evidently, and in the half-light, Tia was conscious that Veronica still had her hand, a gesture that felt so familiar and so exposed for them both.

Tia cleared her throat. “Alright. Night then.”

Veronica nodded. “Night, Tia.”

Neither of them moved.

Tia hadn’t really noticed before how intense Veronica’s stare was, or how bright blue her eyes were underneath the layers of black eyeliner; but she felt it now even though it was getting dark; and it felt like Veronica was trying to tell her something, drawing her into her eyes.

Wait. This is uni. There’s no going home after a day out. We live here together. We can do what we want.

“I mean -“ Tia shifted from one foot to another. “We don’t have lectures tomorrow, it’s Sunday isn’t it? Or are you tired, do you want to get to sleep?”

“No, I’m not tired - what - what did you have in mind?”

“Finding Dory this time?”

“Can do,” Veronica tilted her head as if pondering the idea. “Yeah. You set up, I’ll take my makeup off.”

Within fifteen minutes they were both in their pyjamas, curled up together in Tia’s bed this time, passing Veronica’s Hobnobs between them. The tablet played Finding Dory, balanced on Tia’s knees. The night had turned colder and Tia had insisted on Veronica bundling under the covers with her.

Tia left her hand out of the covers, in full view, and Veronica took the cue, grabbing her hand and interlacing their fingers. The film didn’t last long before Tia became distracted by Veronica running her thumb over Tia’s knuckles, as if in a dream, not even looking at the screen any more.

As the film came to an end, Tia realised she barely remembered the plot at all. She and Veronica had curled into one another, Tia’s head resting on Veronica’s, still clasping her hand. They didn’t move, Tia feeling their breathing fall into rhythm, until she felt Veronica’s deepening and realised it was pretty late.

“Are you tired, Vee?” Tia whispered.

Veronica hummed, stretching out her legs and yawning. “Yeah, a bit. I should go to bed.”

Tia missed the warmth of Veronica from the bed, the steady weight of her hand, from the moment she’d slipped from under the covers; but she followed her out, getting up to go to the door and lock it.

“Well. Night, Tia.”

Veronica reached to hug Tia, who had to bend to reach her, being a good eight or nine inches taller than Veronica. But when the hug lasted much longer than expected, Tia didn’t complain.

Nor did she find it strange when she felt Veronica’s lips softly graze her cheek, right by her ear. It wasn’t a familiar, friendly kiss. It was curious, testing the waters, wondering if this was really happening.

Tia’s heart fluttered when she returned the kiss, again on Veronica’s cheek, as if to answer the question.

But when Veronica pulled away, her eyes were fearful all of a sudden, and she seemed to lose her nerve, spinning round to make a quick exit, slipping away without another word.

Tia locked the door, now humming the tune that Veronica had been humming all day to herself.

It isn’t The Cure. I know it too. God, what is it?

Tia had to hum a few more bars to herself before she finally recognised it, and started singing the chorus to herself.

‘I wanna ruin our friendship, we should be lovers instead.’

God, Tia thought to herself, not just me then.

#rpdr fanfiction #rpdr uk #tia kofi #veronica green #tia x veronica #a'whora #tayce #uk2 #lesbian au #college au #fluff #hurt/comfort #juno

12 notes · View notes

kawaiikatanabushi · 5 years ago

Text

Hakuouki Roadtrip Headcanons

Kondou Isami

-He is definitely primary driver if on the road with the group.

-His boundless patience not only makes him a levelheaded driver, but also ensures no one is getting fussed at for their antics.

-Asks frequently if everyone needs a potty break. Is gently reminded they are adults and the term "potty break" is for children.

-Leaves the snack stocking, fast food order gathering and navigating to Toshi.

-Many recollections and anecdotes accompany his driving. Loves to point out landmarks and beautiful scenery.

Hijikata Toshizo

-As a man who appreciates the solitude and quiet for accomplishing work... stuffing him in a car with the group is emotionally grating and his irritation threshold is low. Snappish in the car. (Repeats that it has nothing to do with motion sickness.)

-Riding shotgun helps him retain his sanity and navigating is a much needed distraction. (And, has nothing to do with motion sickness.)

-When it is his turn to take the wheel, he strives to make as little stops as possible. His overall goal is to retain their minimal funds and make their destination without an extra night's stay.

-Will yell that they just made a stop an hour ago and you should have peed then!

-Every stop requires him getting a coffee. Man hardly eats when on the road. His destination is his focus. He runs on caffeine. (And aspirin.)

Todou Heisuke

-He knows so many car games. Looked up car games just for this trip. Just as his energy makes him the Master Host at parties, he is the Master Entertainer in the car. It's an opportunity to bond with his friends and he is so stoaked for it.

-Only person who doesn't need a power nap. When surrounded by snoozing bodies, he uses the time to talk to Kondou-san and Hijikata-san for some catching up and life advice. Looks forward to this moment just as much as the rest of the trip.

-If no one is interested in a round of Twenty Questions or what have you, he will pull out his Switch. Willing to play alone, but he'd much prefer to Smash with his buddies. Brought extra Joycons. He's also willing to lend it to anyone bored.

-His optimism is never dowsed by any circumstances that arise. If there is a flat, he's willing to get help, call for assistance, or grab a jack. If there is traffic, has ways of entertaining everyone. Willing to dart into a gas station and get snacks. Happy to share fun, food or drink.

-He is also the master of music. Whether it is changing radio stations to playing his spotify playlists for the whole car, he picks the best tunes. He has a roadtrip playlist just for the journey. He collaborated with everyone, just to make sure that no one is left out. Unfortunately, this also exposes him to be griped at after so many songs grind Hijikata-san's nerves. How was he supposed to know there was a limit to Baby Metal songs? Wonders why Souji asked for so many... or, was it the fact that everyone was singing powerballads at the top of their lungs?

Okita Souji

-Speaking of Souji, please entertain this one in the car. He may not have bubbly enthusiastic energy like Heisuke, but this one has a capacity to make serious trouble when cramped into a car and bored. Chaos energy should never be contained without distractions. Everyone knows how unfunny it is to be stuck in a car with a cranky Souji. In order to avoid hair pulling, blame games and relentless button pushing, everyone does their best to keep him conversational if nothing else can be done. Gumny worms are a last resort.

-Thankfully, Souji also has the capability to take three power naps in the car and still arrive at the destination tired. However, no lap or shoulder is safe. Someone will be used as a pillow. If he has opportunity to rest on Chizuru's lap specifically, he will do so. Without permission. Declares it is because she doesn't stink like a man and women are just softer. Grins smugly to himself for the longest while as the car goes silent.

-He will ask "are we there yet?" Several times. He can see it clearly marked on the GPS how many miles they have left. That doesn't matter to him. If he and Heisuke start singing "are we there yet?" it guarantees Hijikata-san will snap and offer him a chance to drive. It's an absolute ploy to snag some Kondou-san time. Plus, it means the Oni can take a power nap. Not that Souji would set that up because he cares or anything. Don't get the wrong idea.

-Some moments he prefers to play games on his phone or take photos of the scenery rushing by. Souji doesn't mind staring out the window and thinking. He can wall himself off for introvert time, even shoved into a car. Headphones in, people out. Neko Atsume ensures no one will ask him questions or request he share the gummy worms. Those are his gummies. Kondou-san bought them.

-Asks for a milkshake at fast food stops. Sees how far he can go until Hijikata-san caves. "I don't want food. I just want a milkshake." (Only shares with Chizuru.)

-He likes to point out funny road signs and city names. So, so many puns with the Baka Trio.

-Souji is secretly a whole lot more excited to travel than he let's on. Plus, this group is his family. He can do a little better than tolerating everyone. He has a captive audience and is content to ride as long as he is included. Given the infectious level of cheer with the Baka Trio in the car, he might even sing along with them or goof off more than usual. He might even find it in himself to be helpful with getting snacks and drinks along the way.

Saito Hajime

-This man was prepared, packed and ready to go before anyone else. He made a checklist of everything he could need and anything that could be overlooked, checked it over three times and helped to pack the car and ensure what would be needed was accessible.

-He rose early to prepare himself and help others be prepared. He helped Souji and Heisuke pack. He took his motion sickness pill and has a large thermos filled with piping hot green tea. He also made a thermos with coffee for Hijikata-san (sugary, but black.)

-Saito has his headphones in often, but the volume low in case he is addressed. He may listen to soothing music and read a book on the history of katana. Reading in the car cuts the anxiety of being stuffed in a tin can at high speed with little wiggle room. He is grateful for the moments Souji steps in to block the extroversion chaffing his introvert soul.

-He brought a neck pillow to rest, but if he naps on anyone's shoulder he will apologize profusely. There are less tasks to focus on while riding and because this man works so hard without quite enough sleep, he will doze off. Thankfully, Souji has a pretty cozy shoulder.

-He is glad to step out and stretch his legs during a pit stop. Gases up the car without being asked. He will also wash the windows and Hijikata-san has to gently stop him from washing the entire car. Requests to drive through a car wash at the earliest convenience. Cuts a glare at Souji when he says he likes the mud. If Chizuru goes in to use the restroom, he will escort her. She needs protecc.

-Happiest when there is a beautiful rainbow or a lovely sunset on the horizon to admire.

Nagakura Shinpachi

-"Hey, do we have any snacks?" The main reason they have snacks is to keep him fed.

-This is the guy who sees the museum billboards or natural formations and requests they stop and take a look. Grumbles when the Vice Commander reminds him their budget is already tight, or they would have flown. They reach a middle ground once Hijikata-san promises they can see a museum once they get there.

-Will jokingly bemoan that they can't just drink in the car. Sano will give him a light scoff.

-Definitely will play on the Switch. Loves defeating Heisuke just to aggravate him and ask him if he needs a break from his overpowering gaming skills. This only makes Heisuke all the more pumped to win.

-"Hey, do you guys remember that time when..." What better way to pass the time than to rehash the good times? Has a funny story about practically everyone. Souji and Hijikata-san both threaten him should he begin to tell the stories they expect him to. He quiets down for a bit, only to begin a political discussion. Doesn't notice when Saito and Souji put in their headphones.

-The most vocal about restaurant requests. Would rather have a hearty meal than fast food, but orders two meals if that is their only option.

-You know what is really fun? Singing AT THE TOP OF YOUR LUNGS! Encourages Chizuru to join in. Makes a puppy face until she relents.

Harada Sanosuke

-This man is an adult. Astute. Considerate. Well-mannered. Stuff him in a car with Heisuke and Shinpachi? That erodes into fun, goofing off time. Dance in the car? Sure! Bad singing contest? Oh, yeah!

-Still, he offers a hand to Chizuru to lead her out of the car on pit stops. Makes sure she is comfortable in the car.

-He did bring headphones for a moment's peace. Politely asks Saito to borrow his neck pillow for a nap. "Shinpachi, Heisuke. I'm going to sleep now. I'm tired. I don't want to play, I want to rest. I'm warning you both, if you touch me, I won't hold back. I'll knock your head off. Souji, that includes you, too."

-If all the chaos energy becomes just a tad too much to bear, he will lean towards the front and ask for a driving shift.

-On the whole, he is present to chat, help when asked and always aware of Chizuru needing just a little more tenderness than their pack of wild wolves.

-He might also text pictures to Shiranui of city names or cool sights. Smirks a little at the replies. When Shinpachi asks who he's texting, he doesn't give specifics. "A friend."

-He tries to avoid the role of peacemaker in the car, expecting everyone to behave. However, if necessary, he will wip out that big brother attitude and quell the situation. He isn't afraid to remind any of them how they are behaving in front of Chizuru. Is it a dirty move? Maybe. Does he care? Not really.

Yukimura Chizuru

-She's in a car with seven men. She did have nerves before entering, but mainly about how she would fit in with such a tight knit group.

-Her helpful attitude is appreciated by all. She finds herself being handed candies, given a pat on the back or a thank you to her face. She blushes happily about it all.

-She helped arrange luggage so they had optimal room. She appreciated all the strong men who were willing to help pack. It gave her great encouragement when they asked her give them insight.

-She has the tiniest of all the bladders. She is going to make all the pit stops she can. She does marvel at how well they all work together, despite being such different people.

-She gets dragged into so much silliness. She tries her hand at playing some video games with Heisuke, singing along to songs, any of the car games played and laughs at a lot of the antics in the car.

-Like Saito, she will help without requested. She sometimes gets snack or food orders from everyone to make the information short and accessible to Hijikata-san.

-She did bring some headphones, a book and the notes of thoughts on her phone to entertain herself. She doesn't need it so much as she expected. She loves to window gaze, take in the sights and spend time with them all. Road trips just feel like family to her.

#hakuouki #hakuoki #hakuouki headcanons #road trip #sorry for the absence #hope you enjoy

125 notes · View notes

kyndaris · 4 years ago

Text

“If I Ever Were to Lose You...”

As a huge fan of Naughty Dog, it should come as no surprise that I bought The Last of Us Part II on day one. It mattered not that the plot had been leaked a month or so ago. Nor did I care how divisive the game was among the gaming community (honestly, I’m not sure what the exact reason is for the vitriol. The reasons are numerous, ranging from the fact that many believes Naughty Dog was pushing an agenda - if you played the Left Behind DLC, you would have known that Ellie was gay - or that Abby was not painted as a moustache-twirling villain). I loved the first game and I knew that I would appreciate the morally grey narrative that The Last of Us Part II promised. So, with the work day over, I journeyed once again through a post-apocalyptic United States of America.

The Last of Us Part II begins with Joel returning to the town of Jackson. After a fraught conversation with his brother, Tommy, about what had happened at the end of the first game, he brings back a peace offering for Ellie: a guitar. From there, the game jumps forward in time by five years with Ellie waking up late and gently teased by her friend Jesse as they prepared for the day ahead.

I quite liked the first few moments of the game as I took in Jackson. It reminded me of the old west, what with a saloon, blacksmith and horses. But it also painted a more positive picture of the apocalypse, with children playing in the snow and building snowmen. Jackson was a flourishing community. Yes, it had its issues with Infected roving around the countryside, but there was a sense of camaraderie that the first game lacked.

It wasn’t long, however that the game switched to an unknown character: Abby. She had made her way down to Jackson with a group of her friends. It wasn’t made entirely clear what her objective was, initially, but it was revealed in her conversations with Owen that she was looking for someone.

The first part of the game played well - jumping from Ellie to Abby and back again during the course of the day. It all culminated when Abby runs into Joel and Tommy (stationed at the ski lodge) as she tries to dodge a horde of Infected. Joel and Tommy save her, but are too far away to make it to Jackson. Abby offers them shelter in the mansion that she is staying at with her friends. But once within, it is revealed that the person that Abby and her friends were searching for was Joel and that they were seeking revenge for what happened to the head surgeon that was killed at the end of The Last of Us.

As Joel is being brutally tortured, Ellie learns that both Joel and Tommy have not checked in. With Dina and Jesse, she goes in search for them. Finally, she stumbles upon the mansion that Abby and her friends are residing in. Before she can rescue Joel, she is wrestled to the ground and witnesses Abby smashing Joel’s head in with a golf club - leaving Ellie devastated and suffering from PTSD.

Thus, begins her quest for revenge as she heads to Seattle.

The initial moments of the game made it very easy to hate Abby. After all, most of us that picked up the title had played through the original and felt a tight connection with Joel and Ellie. While their actions throughout the first game bordered on morally questionable, they were the protagonists and who the players were able to control. In the world of the post-apocalypse with fungus zombies, it made a certain amount of sense that it was a dog-eat-dog world out in the wilderness. With Abby killing Joel, however, it felt like a line was crossed - making it very easy to slip into Ellie’s mindset of seeking revenge for the loss of her father-figure.

After Ellie arrives in Seattle, finding Abby was no easy task. With the Seraphites and the WLF roaming the streets, Ellie was hard-pressed to find a non-violent solution. Particularly when many of the WLF and Seraphites were of the ‘shoot first, ask questions’ later mentality when it came to trespassers. It wasn’t long before Ellie started tracking down Tommy and the members of Abby’s party. But after an encounter at the Seattle Aquarium, Ellie decided to abandon her quest due to Dina’s declining health. As Ellie and her team prepared to go home, Abby manages to track them down at the theatre that they were staying in and ambushes them.

It was here that many players felt dismayed as the game jumped back again to the start of the three days in Seattle to explain Abby’s side of the story. Through flashbacks, the game revealed that her father was the head-surgeon that was killed by Joel. Years afterwards, Abby continued to suffer nightmares from what had happened. Seeing her story also shed light on how many of her team were suffering from guilt after what had happened in Jackson. This was particularly evident in Abby’s interactions with Mel.

Also, her relationship with Owen was both endearing and troubling. The flashbacks helped paint a picture of their relationship and the troubles that came from Abby’s devotion to training and Owen’s more hesitant approach to working with the WLF. Let’s also not forget how that at the end of Seattle Day One, Abby then slept again with her ex-lover. I mean really? His current girlfriend is pregnant and the two you broke up more than a year ago. At least Abby was able to respect Mel’s wishes and decline Owen’s offer of going to Santa Barbara together.

I liked how it built up a complicated backstory for Abby and helped emphasise that she was not a cut-out copy of the mindless AI enemies that I often faced. It also helped me understand more of the WLF, though I found their compound in one of the old stadiums Seattle less impressive than the city that was built in Jackson.

Her quest to help her friend and then, two young Seraphites also placed in perspective that the world of The Last of Us carried very much an ‘us versus them’ mentality. Considering the fact that I was watching The 100 while playing only cemented the fact that everyone was looking out for ‘their people’ and screw everyone else. And while Yara and Lev helped break some of the prejudice Abby held against the Seraphites, there was also a sense that she was only helping them to alleviate the guilt that she had for her previous actions.

But after discovering the bodies of Owen and Mel, her anger resurfaces and she decides to hunt down those responsible. The fight with Ellie was difficult. Mostly because these were two young women who had many similarities and both were filled with hatred and loathing for the other. In the end, Abby won their first encounter and would have likely killed both Ellie and Dina had not Lev stepped in.

By the time the ending rolled around, however, it was easy to see how much Abby had changed as a prisoner of the Rattlers. She had lost weight and her hair was now a lot shorter than it had been. The confidence she had during the ten or so hours I played as her was gone. Instead, she seemed exhausted. It wasn’t much of a fight as an ongoing struggle between committing to the cycle of hatred or breaking away. After nearly successfully drowning Abby, Ellie decides to let both her and Lev go.

Some might have thought that Ellie forgave Abby for what she did to Joel. I don’t. Rather, it seemed that Ellie came to the conclusion that taking an eye for an eye was not worth it. Particularly after she gave up the safe and happy lifestyle of living with Dina and JJ. This was also true for Abby. In fact, she did not want to fight and only did so when Ellie threatened to hurt Lev. Even then, the battle was half-hearted at best with Abby throwing haymakers that were far too easy to dodge.

The narrative of The Last of Us Part II is a poignant study into the human condition, hidden beneath a traditional tale of revenge. Like The Count of Monte Cristo, which was referenced in dialogue in Abby’s story, it demonstrates the devastating consequences of a person’s need to right the wrongs that were inflicted on the people involved. What many seemed to misunderstand about the game was the fact that there were no ‘good sides’ or ‘bad sides.’ Abby is not the monster that she was first portrayed as. Nor is Ellie like the heroines in the comics she liked to read and the trading cards she collected.

They are all people, looking to survive. And that, perhaps, is what I liked about The Last of Us Part II.

What I also liked about The Last of Part II was the setting. Having visited Seattle in the past, I was excited to see the aquarium - which I visited four years ago. While it didn’t seem to match up exactly with my memories of the place, I still found it exciting to recognise some of the landmarks - such as the Ferris Wheel.

Then there were the flashbacks to simpler times. I loved exploring the Natural History Museum of Wyoming and climbing atop the replica of a Tyrannosaurus Rex. Ellie’s enthusiasm about astronauts also proved to be incredibly touching as she divulged everything she knew to Joel.

And though some might consider that Naughty Dog was pushing an agenda by including Lev as a transgender male, I didn’t mind. In fact, it seemed very refreshing that people referred to Lev with the correct pronouns. Even if they were terrible slavers with Infected chained up as pets.

The gameplay also helped to heighten many aspects of the story-telling. This was particularly evident when it came to Abby and her fear of heights. I was fascinated at how just by looking down from a towering structure, Abby would begin to breathe more heavily as her fear took hold.

Other than that, the combat systems were reminiscent of the first game. Stealth was key to surviving, although I much preferred controlling Ellie when it came to fighting the Infected. Mostly because of her unbreakable knife and the fact that she was able to craft Molotov cocktails. When playing as Abby, however, I was much more aggressive.

Overall, The Last of Us Part II wove an interesting narrative of revenge, justice and forgiveness. It might not have been what many fans wanted, but it was what we got. In our current times, it’s easy for people to construct a dichotomy between two opposing forces, but in life, that is hardly ever the case. While Naughty Dog did not break the mould when it came to the combat, it was still serviceable. The Last of Us Part II was fraught with moments of terror as I was being chased by Infected, but managed to soothe them with the humanising aspects of the characters. I suppose that was what made the game for me. The character development and the ability to explore a ravaged world while learning about the people that lived in it.

Now let’s just hope that COVID-19 won’t have the nasty side-effect of making all those that contracted it zombies.

On a side note: why was Abby so swole? I mean, there was nothing wrong with it, but I found myself distracted by her biceps and triceps.

#the last of us part 2 #video games

9 notes · View notes