#like it's still hazy but I actually have a couple things I want to accomplish | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yourheartonfire · 3 years ago

Text

A continuation of this poor rebel x royal pair from here, though I do think this snippet stands on it's own. Thanks to @gingerly-writing for the original prompt!

After the stuff the enemy medics had forced down the protagonist's throat, there was no clear line between sleeping and waking. But eventually the ache in their muscles and bruises cut through the fog of the sleeping draught. The protagonist swam sluggishly to the awareness that they were slumped on the cold ground, feet bound together and hands tied tightly to the tent pole. No mystery whose tent it was.

"Back with us at last?" The antagonist's voice seemed to float in the heady, hazy atmosphere. "You were out a long time."

"'S'it smokey in here?" the protagonist groaned. "Or izzat the drugs and the, mm, concussion?"

There was a dry hmph. The protagonist's vision was clearing slowly, and they could just see a lean streak of black standing over them, dark against the gleaming reds and golds of the imperial tent. The antagonist. Their old childhood friend and their new crown prince - thanks to the protagonist's removal of the prior occupant from that position. And from the earth.

The protagonist carefully rolled their neck, loosening the muscles and grounding themselves. The tent was not spinning. Their heart was not pounding. Their friend was not their friend. Not anymore. "Is the part where I'm oh-so-grateful you've placed me in your personal custody?" the protagonist drawled. "For my own protection, I'm sure - "

There was a flash of dark and the crack of a palm across the protagonist's face. Again. They swallowed and breathed through the new pain.

"You're getting good at that, your highness," they said, and spit out red flecked saliva on the carpet. "But may��I suggest, for next time, a backhand? With a couple big rings, you can really do some damage-"

The antagonist made a strangled scream. "Stop telling me what to do!" they yelled. "Gods! I used to wonder what would make you shut up. Now I know: literally nothing short of death."

They flopped into a chair, and glared at the protagonist. The protagonist could see their face more or less clearly now, making the expression they always did when they wanted to look cold and foreboding and definitely not scared shitless. Despite the wardrobe, it was a shock how little the antagonist had changed when everything was so different.

"What am I supposed to do with you, [protagonist]?" said the spare-turned-heir miserably.

The protagonist shrugged. Their throat burned with thirst, their shoulders screamed with ache. They pushed it away. Never show weakness. The antagonist had taught them that. "Take me to your father to stand trial for treason, revolt, etcetera. How is the old man these days?"

The antagonist propped their chin on their fist, twisted their mouth. "Not great," they drawled back with vicious understatement. "Better than my lady mother, though. She hasn't left her bed since you had my brother assassinated."

The protagonist flinched. It was a bad habit, a weakness. Of course the antagonist recognized it and twisted the knife. "She took you in," they said, sliding out of their chair to loom over the protagonist. "You were starving in the gutter and she took you into our household, gave you a royal education, treated you like her own child-"

"Her child? Your mother took me in to be your pet," the protagonist spat. "Your own personal peasant for you and your brother to practice ruling on. I guess she thought you were too big for a puppy."

"I- what?!" the antagonist sputtered. For a moment they were genuinely struck dumb. "No! You say what you want about the rest of us, but my mother-"

"She saw which way the wind was blowing with your brother," the protagonist said, rolling their shoulders and subtly testing their bonds. "Maybe she thought putting a face on the faceless masses could turn him around."

"Too bad she picked you then," the antagonist snapped.

The protagonist smiled sourly and the antagonist bit their lip and flushed, realizing they'd conceded the point.

"The irony hasn't escaped me," the protagonist said, hitching themselves up a little higher. "If all of this, all the blood and death as you put, if all I accomplished was removing your brother from the line of succession, I'll have done the empire and your family a greater service than your mother ever dreamed-"

"She thinks I put you up to it," the antagonist blurted out. The protagonist's mouth opened, and then shut again. The antagonist dropped down into their camp chair, somehow making despair look regal and elegant. "The rebellion, the overthrow of the Southern lords, the disruption of the sea trade, my..." They swallowed, reached for another bottle of wine on an overladen table. "The former crown prince's death. Then you just... walk straight into an ambush a day from my camp. She hasn't said, but her letters are... She thinks I..." They made a face, yanked the cork loose. "Father thinks the same, but he actually has more respect for me now," the antagonist added bitterly. "He wasn't so blind to my brother's faults as he pretended to be."

The protagonist let out a low whistle across their split lip. "Well. Now you definitely can't give me a merciful death."

The antagonist put the bottle of wine back down with a shaking hand. "Did you?" they whispered, so quiet the protagonist had to lean forward.

"Did I what?" they asked.

The antagonist started down at their hand pressed flat on the folding table. "Did you do this for me?" they said under their breath.

The protagonist rocked back, hard enough to thunk their head against the pole. They barely felt it, overwhelmed as the antagonist handed themselves over, heart and soul. "Oh, my," the protagonist breathed out. "Oh, your highness. Is that why I'm in your tent? You want me to pat you on the head before you hand me off to be tortured to death and tell you not to worry, that you're one of the good ones?"

"Stop it. Stop talking," the antagonist hissed, face going an angry, ugly red. "I should have known you weren't capable of any loyalty at all."

"Do you remember when your brother beat that housemaid to death?" the protagonist asked, settling themselves more comfortably.

"That was an accident," the antagonist said automatically.

The protagonist shrugged. "Fine then. You remember when your brother accidentally hit a housemaid hard enough that she smashed her skull open on the nursery fireplace? For what, for being nice to us? For slipping us sweeties after he had me whipped again?"

"Stop it, I'm sorry I asked!" the antagonist yelled.

"And I sobbed and sobbed and you comforted me, you remember what you said?"

It was the antagonist's turn to flinch. "Damn you, I was a child. I didn't know better!"

But the protagonist wasn't going to stop. They couldn't now. "You held me in your arms and you said, 'Don't cry. She was only a housemaid. We have more.' Over and over. I still hear that in my sleep."

"So that's it?" The antagonist wrapped their arms around themselves, turned away. "I was a scared, fucked-up nine-year-old who said a bad thing so now none of the rest of it matters? I'm going to die with everyone else?"

"Die?" The protagonist cocked their head and sneered. Their heart was not pounding in their chest, the room was not spinning, their friend was not their friend. "I'm your prisoner. You're taking me to the capitol, to your father for trial."

"Bullshit." The antagonist turned pleading eyes down on the protagonist, bound and bloody. "What are you planning? Why do you want me to bring you to my father? What are you going to do to us?"

The protagonist breathed in and out, reached within themselves for the stone walls the antagonist had taught them to build, oh so many years ago.

"I'm doing what I was taught," they said evenly. "By your mother, your brother, by your father, by you. To serve my empire, even unto death. Difference is, I draw a distinction between the empire and the fucked-up, inbred family that for some reason thinks they were sent by the gods to rule everyone else."

In the silence that followed, the protagonist could hear the distant shouts of the commanders, the jingle of horse bridles and the sounds of hammers and waxed linens flapping to the ground. They were breaking camp. Thirteen days to the capitol.

"All right then," the antagonist said softly, face bloodless against the stark black of their jacket. They put down their untouched wine cup and turned away, never meeting the protagonist's eyes. "Let's play this out. Can't wait to see your endgame."

They walked out and the protagonist sagged limp against the tentpole. Thirteen days. They could stay alive that long. They just weren't sure they could stay unbreakable when they felt so very, very close to breaking.

#my fiction #heroes and villains #heroxvillain #rebel x royal #hero x villain #royals #friends to enemies #protagonist said no divine right of kings #100

284 notes · View notes

seancekitsch · 4 years ago

Text

I was Never Young: A Klaus x Reader fic

Anyways uhhh heres my fic based on the Klaus spin off series!! I made sure not to really spoil anything in the series if u guys haven't finished it yet but it does take place after the series events. there's no smut which is weird for me bc i usually write just smut but like yolo this is where it went.

Klaus had been through the ringer. Los Angeles seems to just be more of the same, so why even leave home? Right, he’d been kicked out and cut off. Well, at least one of those problems has disappeared, he thinks as he pats the ugly little satchel full of money at the side of his hip.

He meanders down the street, no real direction or motive as he shuffles down. The diazepine is starting to wear off, and he’s going to need something to dull the corners of his mind in about an hour. A neon green sign draws his eyes, looks as sick as he’s about to be.

‘Cobra’s’ the sign says, and this one is probably as good as any.

The bar has exactly six people inside of it, he realizes as he pushes the door open. It’s hazy, full of the stale and welcoming scent of menthol tobacco. Perfect, Klaus thinks.

The bartender is a stern looking man, like he used to be a wrestler. Maybe this is what Luther or Diego will look like in thirty years if they don’t eat their wheaties.

There are two other men sitting in a booth by the corner, deep in conversation with one another. They’re boring suits, no one that Klaus could have for company. He’s just looking for someone alive to have a conversation with while he numbs himself. Someone alive, he clarifies to himself. His last friend left for heaven’s greener pastures, which he’s happy for him, but maybe the guy could have stuck around on this plane of existence for a weekend longer.

There’s a couple at the end of the bar that looks like they're on a date. In the middle of the day? Wonder if their spouses know they aren't at work. Klaus laughs out loud, poor bastards.

And then there's you, with your mixed drink, absentmindedly swirling it with your little stirrer. You seem like a safe bet, so his feet drag him over to sit down at the middle of the bar near you. He more or less throws himself into the chair, his feet immediately feeling the relief. He’s still clammy and feverish in the come down, his stomach hurts, but that’s nothing a little booze and sugar can’t help.

You notice the guy as soon as he walks in. Of course you do. After a few years, you start to recognize people even if you don’t know them. You don’t recognize him. He looks paranoid, fresh off a set and worried about what a job will do, for and to him. Poor thing. Probably one of those River Phoenix types. Young, pretty, and overwhelmed. In teen mags one day, in the obituaries the next. All preventable, hundreds of people that could step in if money meant more than the people around you.

“Hey,” the guy next to you greets you, his voice uneven, watery and cautious. His hands shake a little as he pulls a stack of cash out of his threadbare satchel, pulling a few bills from the rubberband holding it together and flattening them out against the bar.

“Hey, yourself. You new here?” He looks surprised as the words leave your lips, but is interrupted by the bartender approaching.

“Yeah, whatever that special is for today, that’ll do,” he orders like he doesn't really know what to do at the bar. He turns back to you, looking ever so boyish and lost with his big green eyes.

“How did you-?”

“How did I know you're new here?” You throw the rest of your drink back, carelessly placing it at the far end of the bar from you, “Because you don't look absolutely beaten down. I mean, you look a little twitchy, but you look fresh.”

Fresh? That’s not at all how Klaus would describe his look, having not slept in days and having been using an extreme amount of controlled substances, even for his standards.

The bartender slides a glass towards him, and he scrambles to catch it. There’s a total of two umbrellas, a flamingo stirrer, and two straws in it. In all, garish and hard to look at. The bartender takes the money, and they nod at each other.

“You look kinda young to be here,” with that remark, Klaus takes a long sip of the fruity cocktail he ordered, a sickening blue color so intense you bet it could substitute as hair dye.

“You do too,” you quip. You’d been working in this town for a few years now, on and off movie sets and bartending clubs with live acts. This boy? He looked fresh. Like he’s just been taken for his first ride. He looked rough and unused to it.

“How old are you?” he asks, he can’t place your age or accent. You look just as young as him, if not younger. You sound southern- Boston- Chicago- western and somewhere European he can’t place. Is that what Hollywood does to people's speech patterns? Is that gonna happen to him? But you seem to be as much an anomaly here as he does.

“How old are you?” you mimic back.

Klaus stares in awe as you rest your elbow against the bar, making sure he sees that as you snap your fingers, a cigarette materializes between them. You quickly shift the rolled tobacco to rest between your index and middle finger, ready to place it against your lips.

“Listen, I’m old enough.” That's all you have to say about that.

“Yeah,” he agrees, “Sometimes I think I was never young.”

You exhale sharply through your nose, the hint of a laugh.

“Yeah, alright.” You fish around in your jacket pocket for the lighter and ask, “Do you wanna get out of here? Only smoking bar in town, but it ain’t got hotdogs.”

Hotdogs, Klaus thinks, He remembers having sausage back home, but he’s never had a hotdog.

“Why are you lookin’ at me like that? You never been to a baseball game or something?”

He shook his head, no. Klaus hadn’t ever seen a baseball game. He knew the history of it, the impact it had on American society. All from a very clinical and academic standpoint. Sports weren’t really his thing.

“Nah, I always preferred activities with a bit more... uh, substance.” He laughs at his own joke, whether you get it or not really doesn’t matter.

“Right, right. So River, what’s your real name?” You talk with the cigarette but between your teeth, lighting it quickly, before the lighter in your hand vanishes from sight.

“It’s….. uh, It’s Klaus.”

You give him your name, and he repeats it, tests the name out on his tongue.

You take a deep inhale, blowing the smoke out of the corner of your mouth.

“So Klaus, wanna buy us some hotdogs?”

You leave as soon as he finishes his drink, and he talks in a way that he thinks might be too much. But you listen. You’re the first living person that’s actually listened to what he had to say since he got here. He asks about you, your story, but he doesn’t get as much as he wants. You like your smoking, you’re a special effects designer, you dropped out of high school to come out here, and you fucking love Alonzo’s hotdogs.

“Hey ‘Lonzo!” you shout, interrupting Klaus mis sentence, raising both arms above your head, the baggy sleeves of your jacket falling closer to your elbows.

“How’s my kid doin?” The man shouts back. A tall man, with heavy brows and a mustache. “And who’s this?”

“My friend Klaus here just directed a movie! With Vivian Clarke, and the kid’s never had a hotdog! Can you believe it!” Your footfalls come quicker, starting to jog as you clear the end of the block, Klaus starts to shuffle quicker to catch up. When he gets to see the man up close. clear chocolate brown eyes greet him. He looks pretty trustworthy, Klaus thinks, Like Santa Claus, or John Stamos. Basically, like anyone but Dad or Viv.

Alonzo asks all about Klaus’ recent accomplishment, not exactly something he wants to talk about, but he likes that Alonzo is genuinely curious and polite. The only thing you say is “extra relish, on both. Big shot director pays.” during the conversation, focusing more on finishing your cigarette and stubbing it out with the toe of your boot. Klaus looks down and the cigarette butt leaves no trace on the concrete.

“So back there,” he says as you wait for your dogs to be handed over, “That cigarette business, are you a magician?”

“Nah,” you say, not fully meeting his gaze, “I’m a Libra.”

You nod at the guy as he finally pulls the dogs over the edge of the cart he operates. Extra relish, just like you asked. When he places the hotdog in Klaus’ hands, the redhead’s eyes go wide. Guess he wasn’t kidding about never having relish, you think.

“Huh,” he starts, dumbfounded by the hunk of grease and meat and relish in his hands, “I’m a Libra too, actually.”

“Guess that’s something about balance or something,” you say, effectively ending the conversation again by opening your mouth as wide as you can to accommodate the sheer mass of one of Alonzo’s hotdogs.

He looks at the meal, his first and probably only for today, and then takes your lead, opening his mouth as wide as he can before finally chomping down on a huge bite of it. The bite is… heavenly. Pickled vegetables and chutneys exploding on his tastebuds, the coolness of it contrasting with the fresh off the grill meat. No offense to mom or Pogo, but none of their cooking could ever hold a candle to this street hotdog.

“Good, yeah?” Your voice, distorted by a mouth full of food, breaks his almost nirvana like trance.

“So good,” he tries to say, mouth just as full as yours. He finishes chewing, swallows with a huge gulp.

“You got any more food spots to show me?”

#my work #klaus hargreeves x reader

84 notes · View notes

pterodactylterrace · 4 years ago

Text

Guys Like You

Title: Guys Like You

Chapter: 5

Chapter Summary: Dinner and a movie is considered a date, right? Even if your rambunctious toddler is running around? Not that this was a date or anything, though that didn’t stop Faye from calling it one in her head.

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Light smut? It gets heated, ok. Adults only, please.

Words: Just under 3K for this chapter.

{Prologue} {Chapter 1} {Chapter 2} {Chapter 3} {Chapter 4}

Faye was stirred from her much needed slumber by the smell of something cooking, her empty stomach growling at the prospect of food. It took a second for her hazy brain to wonder just why she was smelling food when she lived alone with her three year old daughter. Her eyes flew open in panic as she leapt from the couch, rushing to the kitchen and catching herself on the doorframe when the dizziness from her frantic movements caught up with her.

"Briar!" She gasped, wide eyes searching the kitchen for her daughter.

"Mommy!" Briar cheered, bouncing happily from her perch on Henry's left hip.

"Henry?" Faye asked, shaking her head to try and clear the fog of sleep and adrenaline, desperate to make sense of what she was seeing. Why was Superman in her home, holding her daughter?

"Sorry if we woke you." Henry apologized, glancing back her way and continuing to stir something on the stove. "Turns out Briar is a huge fan of broccoli."

"Brockey!" Briar yelled, looking up at Henry expectantly.

"Shh, Mommy just woke up." Henry soothed, handing her another raw floret.

"What? Why is she yelling for more broccoli? Is that my apron?"

"Are you alright? Would you like some tea?" Henry asked cautiously, his brows knitting together at his host's confused state.

"Who willingly drinks tea?"

"You are in England, Miss Warren. Tea is very important here." Henry scolded playfully, hoping she would come back to her senses.

"England? I'm in England and Superman is in my kitchen, wearing my fucking donut apron? Why are you holding my baby? What's going on?"

"Faye, are you awake?" Henry asked, setting Briar down and wiping his hands off on the apron as he slowly approached her like she was a wild animal, unpredictable and liable to pounce.

"Yeah, I'm... I'm getting there." Faye sighed, rubbing her hands over her face, hoping to scrub away the fog of sleep. "I smelled something cooking, and I forgot you were over and I thought Briar got into something-"

"No, no. Briar's fine, I've been minding her. You laid down for a nap because you weren't feeling well, remember?" Henry gently prodded, brushing her dyed strands up and away from her forehead, his palm lingering to check for any sign of a fever.

"That's right. I'm sorry." Faye sighed, subconsciously leaning into his touch. "Briar just gets into everything and sometimes I just panic without thinking."

"No need to panic, the little one is fine."

"Brocky, Henry! Brocky, Brocky!" Briar insisted, her tiny hands grasping his thumb and little finger, trying to drag him back to the counter.

"You have a problem, little missy!" Henry chuckled, letting himself be drug back by the toddler.

"It yummy! Mmm!"

"You can sit down and rest, if you'd like. You look like you were about to pass out in the doorway."

"That's because I almost did pass out." Faye grumbled.

"Is this something to be concerned about?"

"I just jumped up from a dead sleep and sprinted across the house. Pretty sure head rush is normal after that. What are you cooking?"

"Well, I don't know what you had planned, but Miss Briar requested dinosaur nuggets and broccoli with cheese."

"Requested or demanded?" Faye scoffed, finally coming back to her senses fully.

"Demanded. Quite firmly, actually. Though she has just been eating the broccoli raw instead."

"Briar? Can you do Mommy a favor and set the table, please?" Faye requested, looking down at her daughter, happily stuffing the raw vegetable into her mouth.

"Ok, Mommy!" Briar agreed around her mouthful, small bits of green escaping her lips as she spoke. She scurried over to one of the cabinets under the counter and pulled out her plastic Frozen themed dishes, running over to the small table with them clutched to her chest. "Mommy, you get Anna, I get Elsa, and Henry can get Kristoff!" Briar decided, placing the different plates around the table.

"That's great sweetie, now can you go potty and wash your hands before dinner, please?" Faye instructed, Briar dutifully dashing off past her mother to accomplish her tasks.

"I'm sorry for just dumping her off on you like that." Faye apologized, moving to stand next to Henry and survey what he had been cooking.

"You didn't dump her off on me. I offered, remember?" Henry reminded, rolling his eyes and bumping her shoulder playfully, grabbing her around the waist when his good-natured jostling threw his tiny host off balance and almost to the floor.

"That was a deliberate attempt on my life." Faye declared dramatically, gripping his forearm as she regained her footing.

"My sincerest apologies, your majesty. Next time I'll make sure to do the job properly."

"Oh, thank goodness, I've grown quite tired of this whole living thing. Death sounds quite charming. Quite charming indeed."

"Please tell me that wasn't your attempt at a British accent."

"My British accent is way more convincing than yours." Faye declared, sticking her tongue out at him teasingly and bumping his tree trunk of a thigh with her hip.

"Ah, you've crippled me." Henry groaned, slowly leaning his weight onto her shoulder. "You're going to have to carry me for the rest of my life now."

"You've got another leg! Hop!" Faye groaned, pushing back against his muscular chest.

"Mommy, I'm back!" Briar announced as she came running back into the kitchen.

"Did you wash your hands?" Faye asked, raising a brow at the tiny girl.

"Umm... hold on!"

"That was a no." Faye chuckled, pushing harder against Henry.

"Seems like it." Henry agreed, dramatically draping his arms over her shoulders and leaning on her harder. "Now about my wounded leg."

"Your wounded leg? I'm pretty sure my ass took more damage than your thick ass leg did!"

"Oh, really? Now how should I rectify that?"

"Obviously you should be the one carrying me around." Faye joked, yelping in surprise when she found herself hoisted up and tossed over his shoulder like she weighed nothing at all. Stupid Henry with his stupid muscles.

"Now if you want me carrying you, you really should stop kicking." Henry scolded, pinning her legs down with an arm around her thighs.

"What are you going to do about it?" Faye challenged, continuing to kick her feet childishly. A squeal escaped her throat and her mouth dropped open in surprise when he unashamedly pinched her left ass cheek. "Mr. Cavill!"

"Miss Warren!" Henry responded, setting her down in the seat marked with the plastic Anna plate.

"Mommy, I washed my hands!"

"Did you use soap?" Faye questioned, her heated glare never leaving Henry's eyes.

"Hold on!" Briar gasped, running off again.

"Does that child walk anywhere?" Henry asked, shaking his head at the little girl.

"Not really. She always runs from place to place like the FBI is pounding on her door and she has to go flush her little stash."

"What exactly is she stashing?"

"God only knows."

After dinner, Henry offered to clean up the kitchen, Briar practically dragging Faye down the hall, insisting that it was bath time. Thankfully he was still in the kitchen when Briar had gotten out of the bath and made a naked dash back to her room, squealing with laughter as her mother desperately tried to catch her with the towel.

"Briar, we've talked about this." Faye scolded as she snatched the little girl up and carried her to her princess themed room. "You can't run around naked when other people are over."

"I'm nakie!" Briar giggled, pressing a sloppy kiss to her mother's cheek.

"Yes, you are. We gotta un-nakie you now so you can go to bed." Faye coaxed, setting her daughter back down to rummage through her drawers for pajamas.

"I wanna wear panties!"

"No, love. You're still having accidents at night. You need to wear a diaper to bed." Faye explained, pulling out her daughter's unicorn onesie.

"Ok." Briar relented, scurrying across the room to the box that held her diapers. "I want a story!"

"Which story?" Faye asked, sitting on the edge of her bed as her daughter tugged on her pull up.

"Umm... hmm...." Briar hummed to herself, tapping her index finger against her chin as she thought. "Dinosaur book!"

"The one about the dinosaur cleaning it's room?" Faye confirmed, helping her daughter into her pajamas, booping her nose when she zipped her up.

"Yeah, yeah!" Briar agreed with excitement, rushing over to her little bookshelf and pulling it out for her mother.

"Alright, let's get you tucked in."

Twenty minutes, two stories, one night light, eight stuffed animals and at least half a dozen good night kisses later, Faye finally closed her daughter's door, fully expecting Henry to be ready to leave by then.

To her surprise, he seemed to have made himself at home, sitting in the middle of her couch, scrolling through her Netflix account.

"Find anything good?" Faye asked, plopping down next to him and curling up against one of the arm rests.

"Well, The Witcher looks pretty promising, but it's a series. Don't think we have time to watch it all in one night." He mused, shooting her a playful smile.

"I've heard about that one. It has great costuming and make up design."

"That it does." Henry agreed, continuing to scroll through the various movies and shows.

"You find something to watch, I'll get movie snacks." Faye delegated, pushing herself back up and heading back to the kitchen. This was happening. This was really happening! She grabbed a bag of chips (or crisps, as Mrs. Anderson called them) and cookies (biscuits, dear) along with a couple bottles of hard cider. Henry rose a brow at her beverage selection, to which Faye shrugged and popped the cap off of hers, offering the opener to Henry as she sat back down.

"You don't have to go out of your way on my account." Henry pointed out, removing the cap from his own bottle.

"Oh, sorry. Did you want water or a juice box instead?" Faye sassed, taking a slow pull from her drink, Henry's eyes instantly being drawn to the way her lips curled around the mouth of the bottle.

"So, uh... I hope a horror movie is alright. It was the first thing that really jumped out at me."

"It's fine, but if I run out screaming, you have to fight the monsters all on your own."

"Toss me a coin." Henry shrugged, hitting the play button and settling back.

It had started out slowly, really. Faye began by inching toward Henry's side as the movie gained intensity, finally pressing herself into him, wide eyes fixed on the screen as one hand nervously clutched the front of his shirt. Next was his arm, wrapping around her and pulling her in closer. All just to comfort her, of course. He had no ulterior motive whatsoever.

Then she started hiding her face in his chest during intense sequences, pressing closer to him with every passing moment. After that, he'd rested his cheek on top of her head, his other arm reaching over and squeezing her hip reassuringly.

During the climax of the movie, Faye found herself halfway on top of him, the side of her face pressed into his chest as she bravely tried to continue watching the film out of the corner of her eye. That was when Henry took the initiative to pull her fully into his lap, her legs on either side of his hips as she hid her face in his neck, his arms holding her securely to his muscular frame as she hid from the horrors behind her.

She gradually moved her face away from his neck, her doe like eyes flicking up to find his blue gaze already watching her closely. He released his hold of her, gently brushing her hair from her face with both hands and sliding around to cradle the back of her head, raising his brows slightly, silently asking for her permission to take the next step.

Faye was the one to lean in, Henry meeting her lips eagerly as her hands plunged into his curls. It started off slow, both trying to learn the other, gradually becoming more and more passionate as the seconds passed. Henry nipped at her bottom lip, wanting to deepen the kiss to which she happily complied, moaning softly into his mouth. His hands trailed from her hair, slowly down her back, finally coming to rest on her ass, giving it a firm squeeze and grinding her hips deliciously against his. He was right. It was plump, yet firm enough to grab a perfect handful. All those nights he laid awake pondering were finally rewarded with a definitive answer.

Her hands ran over his arms, taking in the feel of his hardened muscles and groaning softly as his hands continuing to knead her ass greedily. Slowly she began moving her hips on her own, purposely dragging herself across his rapidly stiffening cock, shivering in delight when he sighed happily into her mouth. Henry finally broke the kiss to rest his forehead against hers, groaning softly as she continued moving. Friction, wonderful, delightful, promise filled friction against his sensitive shaft, driving him crazy.

"So damn pretty." Henry breathed, his hands sliding around to grip her hips, pulling her down more firmly against him. "Just like that." He encouraged, his head falling back as his hips jerked up of their own accord. "Feels so good, just like that."

"No, no." Henry corrected, leaning forward to push her back when she tried to hide in his neck again. "Wanna see your face. Let me see that gorgeous face."

"Fuck... Henry." Faye moaned softly, grinding her clit against his erection the best she could through their layers clothing. Some things definitely had to go.

"Off. Off." She begged, tugging at his shirt desperately, to which he quickly complied, grabbing the back of his collar with one hand and whipping it off, tossing it out of the way and returning his hands to her hips.

"Don't stop. Keep going." Henry panted, his strong hands encouraging her to move faster against him as he leaned back in for another kiss, this one even more heated than the last. Faye's hands finally found his bare chest, partially bracing herself against him, mostly wanting to feel him beneath her palms. His coarse chest hair and hard muscle, covered in a light sheen of sweat felt right against her tender flesh.

His hands slowly crept from her hips up and down her waist, beginning to inch her shirt up as he went. Large palms found the bare skin of her ribs, his thumbs sweeping across her heated flesh in slow arcs, his lips never stopping against hers. His hands deliberately slid from her ribs to her stomach, fingertips mapping her skin without any care for any imperfections Faye may see in herself. To him, it was all wonderful, uncharted territory that he wanted to commit to memory.

Faye gasped softly, breaking from their heated kiss and grabbing his wrists when he tried to slide his hands higher to her chest. "Hen, no."

"Shit." Henry whispered, his eyes instantly going wide with panic as he leaned away from her, trying to give her some space. "I-I'm sorry. I got carried away. I should have asked first, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cross any lines-"

"Hen." Faye interrupted, pecking his babbling lips to try and calm him down. "Shh, Hen, it's fine. You didn't cross any lines." She assured gently, her eyes shifting away nervously before she forced herself to continue. "They're... they're just really sore right now, and having anyone touch them doesn't seem like much fun for me at the moment." She mumbled, an embarrassed flush overtaking her face.

"Oh thank God." Henry groaned in relief, letting his head fall to the back of the couch as his hands covered his face. "I mean, I'm sorry that you're hurting, that's terrible, but I thought I fucked everything up just now."

"No, you didn't fuck anything up." Faye sighed, hiding her face in his neck. "But we probably should stop for right now, since... you know." Faye sighed, gesturing vaguely down to her waist.

"You know, I really don't care." Henry offered after a second, his cock stirring at the prospect of the night not yet ending.

"Well, I don't want our first time to be a bloody mess." Faye countered, playfully nipping his collarbone.

"First time? Does that mean you're planning for us to do this more than once?" Henry asked suggestively.

"It depends on if you're any good. Why? Were you wanting me to be a one night stand or something, Mr. Cavill?"

"Fuck no. I just wanted to make sure we were on the same page." Henry snorted, gently wrapping his arms around her again.

"Sorry the timing sucked."

"As long as you're giving me another shot, I don't even care."

Give him another shot? Yeah, like that was ever a problem for him. Someone really needed to remind him of who he was. Or just hold up a mirror so he can see his stupidly handsome face. Guys like him almost always get another shot. That's just how it worked. No one in their right mind would pass up on an opportunity with him, and Faye was most certainly in her right mind.

#henry cavill #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fanfic #multi chapter #guys like you fic #guys like you

93 notes · View notes

captaincravatthecapricious · 4 years ago

Text

Feverish and Teary & How Long Has it Been Since You’ve Eaten- Prompt Fill

@thatonekidellis Jon, Tim, and Martin have a rough time after the Unknowing. Especially Jon. I hope this is kind of what you were asking for?

@janekfan you get a ping because this is your au!

CWs: nausea, vomiting, fainting, fever, food mention, alcohol mention, canon typical mentions of Tim's pre-unknowing mindset, canon typical Jon not taking care of himself.

I am still accepting bingo prompts, so let me know which character, which prompt, and if you want a drawing of a fic! Bingo card by the wonderful @celosiaa! This one is twice my usual length because it is two prompts and I did not want to cheat!

The Unknowing blows up.

As simple as that.

All according to plan.

It really is as simple as that.

Jon, Tim, Daisy, Basira. Piled back in Daisy's car. Ears ringing. Soot slowly settling. Trying to drive away before the actually police get there.

It hasn't been Jon's problem how to avoid arrest.

He is even more glad it isn't his problem now, as he slides down the beat up seat in the back of Daisy's car. Ash streaks the window, mixing with the light rains that is starting to fall.

Jon tries not to vomit the nothing he's eaten in the last couple days. Nothing in him but frayed nerves and statements. Hadn't even managed to stomach dramamine before their trip.

Jon just wants to sleep.

They still have their hotel reservation for another couple hours, so Daisy drives them back there to clean up before heading back to London. Yes they have to go back today, it's less suspicious. Jon isn't sure if that is actually true, but he doesn't have the energy to argue.

Tim showers. Jon sends a text to Martin. 'Alive.'

He doesn't answer Martin's near-immediate call because just then he's dry-heaving into the small bin in the corner. Stiff and shaking and sweaty and miserable.

Jon showers. Too dizzy to stand, he sits on the shower floor. He hates that. The tub feels filthy. He feels filthy. He scrubs his skin raw. He stands. He throws up more nothing. He scrubs himself again, leaning heavily on the wall.

He wants to talk to Tim. He wants to tuck himself into Tim's arms and never move again. Christ, he's running an impressive fever. Probably. It's hard to tell. And his brain is swimming too much to even think about asking the Eye.

He's cold. He shivers in his threadbare joggers and stolen jumper (Martin's).

He wants to join Tim on the bed by the window, but Tim ...looks too deep in a melancholy thought to even notice. Somewhere between losing his drive for anything, adrenaline crash, and losing the last hope of a last glimpse of Danny, if Jon were to guess.

Jon could say something. He knows he could. But, hasn't he caused enough of a fuss? Made Tim and Martin trail after him after the ...the.... with Daisy and... that. If he'd have just stayed quiet and stayed still... well Tim would still hate him... and might not be alive... but ....but he's caused so much worry with that. And then with... his other kidnapping No. He can't think about what that... what... not without puking again which... the point is not to worry Tim. Which means he should try some medicine again.... if he can keep it in him half an hour he'll survive the drive back. Probably.

Christ, when is the last time he bothered to drink anything?

He lays there in a daze until Daisy bangs on the door telling them it's time to leave.

Tim sleeps on the drive back. Finally giving into the last few sleepless nights. Jon is jealous.

Last night had been spent tangled together, shaking, awake, and silent. Anxiety too thick to slice with words. Not even nothing to turn off the lights, because the fear is a little easier to manage in the light. Jon couldn't stop thinking about Nikola. He couldn't stop thinking about plastic hands on him. Couldn't stop thinking about how many things could go wrong and how he could lose Tim and Martin when he only just got Tim back.

Jon was pretty sure Tim hadn't been sleeping the last few nights. Jon knows he hasn't. Not that he has slept well in a long time.

In any case, Tim sleeps. Jon doesn't.

Daisy glares at him through the review mirror. Jon isn't sure if she is still waiting for him to prove himself monstrous so she can attack, or if she is making sure he isn't ill in her car... again. (He really wishes he could forget his first ride in her car. Really really really wishes. It was not a pleasant experience for anyone, and Daisy had made him pay the cleaning bill.)

It doesn't matter, he slides down further in his seat and closes his eyes tightly.

His head hurts.

Thankfully the medicine knocks him out soon enough.

Martin greets them at the institute door. Melanie by his side.

Jon hazily wakes up to Martin gently touching his shoulder.

"You actually made it! I'm so glad you're safe... I was so worried, Jon why didn't you answer your phone, I've been so worried, I mean I know you would have said something if something had happened, but Christ I've been so worried about you, come here."

Jon starts mumbling some apologies, but is interrupted by Martin gently gathering him in a hug. Jon sinks into it, fervently hoping Martin doesn't notice the heat rolling off of him.

Thankfully Martin is too distracted, gathering Tim in a crushing embrace. Likely very relieved that Tim didn't die, and knowing Tim is harder to break than Jon with his delicate bones and fragility following many incidents.

Jon... doesn't really know what he's trying to accomplish. Just... get out? Or go in? Or get to the cot? Or just curl up on the cold tile of the basement toilets? Get away from people he will inevitably worry?

Just go somewhere where he can fall apart without taking anyone else down with him.

It looks like Martin has been crying. Jon hopes it isn't over him.

Tim needs to recover from the emotional toll of the last few days without having to pick up the pieces after Jon Again.

Jon slowly backs away.

His head is swimming, but that's okay. If he can just reach the Archives. The cot. Anywhere. Anywhere away from this moment. This breath.

His vision swims violently, and there is no doubt in his mind that he is going to be very well acquainted with the pavement in a matter of seconds. Either that or he's going to be ill? No. Sidewalk. He's going to eat the sidewalk. Heh... first thing he'll have eaten in days.

He isn't sure if he loses consciousness or not. It's hard to tell in the blur of motion and sounds and his spinning head. Sound is almost gooey in this state of almost unconsciousness, but he thinks someone might be shouting. Or several someones. He should maybe worry about this? But in actuality, he is praying he properly passes out to save himself any more embarrassment and save himself from his unsteady insides.

His face hurts.

Someone is holding him.

Jon fights to open his eyes. They don't seem to want to look in the same direction, rolling in their sockets instead of doing what he wants them to. He blinks hard a few times, failing to bring things into focus. Glasses? Does he still have those? Did they break? No... still there. Skewed on his face. Just... too dizzy to see, then.

Daisy and Basira are glaring at him. Melanie is walking away. Possibly. Hard to tell when the world is tilting with unsteady regularity.

Jon closes his eyes again, pressing a groan against the nausea that threatens to overcome him, despite the medicine.

"Jon?"

"Burning up."

He's too hazy to put a name to a voice. The words dripping in the air around him, tightening around his chest, silly string sitting on his skin in fibrous heaps that jiggle uncomfortably, cold and clammy.

Shit, thinking in gibberish. That can't be good.

“Does anyone know how long he’s been ill?”

Someone grunts.

Footsteps. Two sets? I’m asking away. Leaving him.

“I.... I don’t know. I don’t think he was feverish last night? But... I haven’t exactly been... It’s. It’s been hard.”

“Jon?”

He’s being jostled. He whines. Stomach flopping dangerously.

"Jon? Are you awake? Can you open your eyes for me?"

"Oh shit, he's gonna puke."

He's being lifted, shifted on his side, bin shoved in his hands. Where he throws up more nothing.

He's crying now, feeling like utter shit, and unfortunately more awake.

He isn't sure if eyes swimming with tears is better or worse than the unsteady world tipping around him and making him feel worse.

"Christ, Jon!"

He finally pries his eyes open. Martin and Tim solidify above him. More or less. Still fuzzing in and out of focus.

Now that he's crying, he just... can't stop. Fistfuls of Martin's sweater.

"Oh Jon..." Martin's arms circle him, carefully. Gentle not to jostle him more.

"Buddy. Think we can get you off the sidewalk?" Tim. Cupping his face. Smoothing back sweat and tear soaked hair, long since escaped his bun, still not dried from his earlier shower. "My flat isn't far, you know? Didn't bring my car here, though. Still... wasn't..."

Tim cuts himself off, but even addled as he is, Jon can fill in the rest of the sentence.

So can Martin apparently, because Martin frowns. It's never been more apparent that he's been crying quite recently. "Still weren't sure you were coming home... Tim..." And his eyes start looking damp.

Tim is tearing up now. "Martin... let's not in the street... I can carry Jon back to mine, it isn't far. You can come too. We'll get some take out. Drink some whiskey. Get Mr. Smoking hot cooled off. We can talk then. It's.... it's been a rough week."

"Jon? Can I carry you? I think that might be less rough than a cab ride? Do you need a few minutes?"

Martin's voice is soft, and Jon thinks he could sleep right there. In fact, he might. So he nods.

Martin lifts him carefully. His head swims again. This all is feeling rather familiar. Jon takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. He tries to relax despite the lingering anxieties about heights. Martin feels safe. Tim is also safe now. He lets himself drift.

He wakes briefly on the trip.

"Hey bud, how are you feeling?" Tim. Tim seems off. Too many things crossing his face to parse out, probably even for someone with a better sense than Jon of what those subtle face changes mean. But Jon is too hazy to think.

Jon's mouth feels gummed up. His eyes feel gummed up.

He's thankful his mouth doesn't taste like something died in it, though. Although he is very aware how unhealthy it was that he's spent a good portion of the day with his body trying to turn itself inside out, and he couldn't so much as produce bile.

Jon feels sick thinking about it, so stops. He drifts again.

He wakes to a damp rag on his forehead, no memory of anything past the explosion.

How did he get here?

"Sorry, that looked like a nice sleep, but you'll feel better with some medicine in you, and some water. We can try some tea later, once the meds work. And some food hopefully."

Martin helping him sit up. Just enough to get a few sips and some pills into Jon. Which, Jon thought was probably optimistic, but he'd try it for Martin.

"When was the last time you ate?" Martin again.

Jon blinks at him in confusion. "Is it over?"

"Is what over?" Still Martin.

Where's Tim? Where's Daisy? Where's Basira? Where's Melanie?

His breathing picks up, and that makes his head spin again, and makes him wonder just how long he can keep the medicine down.

"Is it over, what happened?" He's panting now, halfway to a panic attack.

"Jon? Jon! Calm down. Can you take a breath for me?"

How did he get here? Where is he? This looks like Tim's flat, but there is Tim? Did he survive.

Jon reaches for anything. But comes up blank.

"Where's Tim? What happened?" He gasps out. It feels like his ribcage is shrinking, being laced up the front. fighter than the corset he had worn in acting class in uni.

"Tim's... taking a moment. As soon as we got you here... he.... it's been rough on him, you know? He did all this for... and I know he said he wanted to live. He wants to live... but he's... not been in a good place and it's helped that you two are talking again... and that he's had company more... but he saw an old picture with.... with his brother.... and that polaroid with ... with Sasha. Well, he keeps going between you know tearful and sorry and cackling about how everything blew up. It's... probably a lot to have three revenge schemes going at once for the same.... not a person really... but ... Her. And then... having it sorted. But... Listen Jon I don't know. What don't you remember... or what's the last thing you remember?" Martin edges on histerical near the middle, but takes a turn for the sad near the end.

"I remember the... the world was all wrong. Then... then it blew up. Is it over? Martin are you real. Is everyone alive? What happened to you?" He's desperate. Desperate breaths too shallow. Words interrupted by jagged pulling of too thin oxygen. He's going to pass out.

He does.

He wakes feeling... clearer. The last period of wakefulness a distant and flighty thing, dancing just out of his reach. The rest of the embarrassing day back in vivid detail. Tim's sitting over him. Or rather, curled around him. Jon's hair is being played with. A stray curl looped around Tim's finger as he laughs softly to himself. Muttering that he's alive. That Jon's alive. That Martin is alive. he didn't lose anyone else. That that clown is finally dead. Finally.

Gentle and warm hand on his face, refreshing the cloth. Checking his temperature.

"I..." Tim chokes on a sob. And Jon tries to remember how his arms work so he can let Tim know he's there.

"Tim?"

"Hey bud... sorry." Tim wipes his eyes on his sleeve. "It's been a hell of a week. I... don't know how to feel about it. Fuck I need a drink.... And to check in with Martin. I... he hasn't told me what happened, but he's upset. And. Fuck I should have noticed you were ill, why didn't you say anything?" Tim's voice starts to rise, and Jon tenses. All the times Tim yelled at him still too fresh in his mind. He trusts Tim. he does... but Christ he is still afraid. Afraid that it can't last, that it isn't real. Where it be a trick of his mind, or some manipulation tactic to an end Jon can't see, he doesn't know.

"Hey. Hey. Buddy... Jon. I'm sorry. didn't mean to yell. It's just... been a day. I'm not mad at you. I just... I'm worried about you and Martin and I...I don't know how to feel about everything that happened. I'm sorry you feel like shit."

Jon feels... like shit. Marginally less nauseous, however. A little less like he's going to pass out again. Probably been given plenty of pills by Martin.

"Sorry." He croaks. Voice probably shredded with smoke. And fever.

"He, bud, don't apologize. I'm sorry I didn't notice you weren't well. I... I thought I knew better than to be that preoccupied. I mean... I guess I didn't make it worse this time, but..." Tim sighs. "I'm disappointed in myself because I don't want to fuck this up again. And no don't apologize again part of that was on me and yes part of that was on you and we've done apologies to death. All we can do now is keep going. I just wanted to protect you and I couldn't see you were fading in front of my eyes. Again. I know you haven't been eating or sleeping, but I haven't been either so I didn't want to call you on it, and I didn't want you to call me on it, but I should have noticed. I know I couldn't have done much, but I didn't do anything but shut you out again. I could have told someone to stop to get you medicine, or food or even a bit more rest. I know that would have done fuck-all, but I still could have offered you a little comfort and warmth and had us brought straight back here."

Tim's crying properly now. Jon is too. Not sure if it is the fever, or just... everything. There is so much to feel and think and worry about and yes they saved the world but that the fuck comes next.

What comes next is that Martin enters with tea for Jon and a bottle of whiskey.

Jon scrubs at his eyes. "Martin what happened?" Jon can see he's been crying again. That is starting to scare him. It's a goddamn miracle he hasn't pulled an answer out of anyone yet today.

"It's... well it isn't fine. I... well our plan worked here too. Just... you know... Elias. He can.... He can do things. It's fine. It's worth it." Martin swipes at his eyes furiously.

Jon pushes himself up, ignoring the room tilting around him, and hugs Martin. Jon's still crying. Martin sniffling. Tim also crying. It's... a very damp hug. And Jon knows he's too warm to be comfortable to hold, and he's shivering hard enough to rattle Tim and Martin.

"I'm... I'm so sorry Martin." Jon chokes out.

"It's alright. It was worth it. And you both.�� Christ I am so glad to see you again... I thought... I thought.... I didn't..." Martin is fully sobbing now. Tea set down on Tim's bedside table, the whiskey being pried from his hands by TIm.

Late that night the bottle is empty (and so are a couple more), Tim and Martin have killer headaches, and Jon is still feverish, but less so. A lot of tears have been shed. And Jon has been plied with enough liquids that he feels a little less like a crumbling husk.

By the time that Tim and Martin are ready to think about food, Jon is finally feeling like he can maybe stomach something. They order takeout. Jon... has some broth.

By morning Jon manages a few bites of leftovers.

By afternoon, Elias Bushard is arrested.

#the magnus archives #tma #magnuspod #fic #sickfic #cw nausea #cw vomit #cw vomiting #cw emeto #cw fainting #cw food #cw fever #fever #cw alcohol #my writing #my words #my art #my fic

71 notes · View notes

theincuhusbands · 4 years ago

Text

The Jealous Cold Shoulder - (James x Reader)

Summary – James has been acting cold and distant towards Y/N and their sick of it. He was their best friend. The one they always wanted to talk to and their determined to get to the bottom of this, Will things get worse if they call him out on it?

Warnings – Strong Language, Fighting, Kissing, Long, Stressed Reader

Word Count – 1963

I smiled as I snuggled into my new fluffy blanket, relishing in its warmth. I had been so stressed out about school lately, I’d barely had a moment to think. Matthew created this blanket for me while I was at school so now, I get to snuggle up in the library and read my favourite book for the billionth time.

When I mentioned that I was going to go read in the library I had hoped that someone would join me… but he didn’t seem interested. Usually, James and I could spend hours in the library by the fire talking about our favourite books or my favourite TV shows, that’s what made me fall head over heels for him. The way he said my name, like sweet honey dripping off his lips, could make me buckle at the knees. His laugh echoing throughout the room filling it beautifully, but recently, it’s as if he’s put off by the thought of spending time with me.

I understand that I might not be the best to be around when I’m stressed but I guess he must be quite stressed too, with the company and all. With all my feelings aside, I miss spending time with him.

I sigh as I flick through the chapters of my book trying to find my favourite one. Today it doesn’t seem to be bringing the usual joy. I eventually find the page and start reading but it doesn’t take long for me to put the book back on the shelf.

I guess just not today…

My attention is quickly drawn to the hall as I see the blurs of Matthew running away from Sam. I giggle as I start to run after them, sliding around corners in my socks to catch up. I eventually catch Sam and lunge for him, jumping onto his back. All three of us laugh as I gently hit Sam on the back.

We snap out of it though as soon as we hear a very annoyed “Ahem.”

I look up to see James standing with a spilt coffee all over his grey jumper. I hear Sam snicker and look to see Matthew trying to hide his smile. I walk over to James and try to take his cup but he yanks it away from me, just spilling more tea onto the floor and himself. “You three should watch where you’re going.” His voice was stern and powerful.

I was used to him telling Matthew and Sam off but he had NEVER spoke to me like that. “Em, what?” James looks down at me with disgust in his eyes. The look shoots right through me making my stomach drop to the floor. That one look made me feel worse than anything anyone’s ever said to me, well maybe besides my father.

“I expected better from you.”

I cross my arms and snort back. “Yeah, well this is my house. I’ll do what I want asshole.”

James looks at me for a second studying my face. I don’t think he was expecting me to say anything back, least of all that. “Your behaving like a little girl. Y/N. What would your grandfather say if he could see you right now?”

I felt blood rush to my face as I took a step back lowering my face to the floor. The venom dripping from his voices cut through me like a knife. The name he used to say so sweetly, now used against me. I felt utterly humiliated. I look to the side to see Sam and Matthew’s faces. Their twisted in anger or mortification… to be honest it could be either. Sam’s fists were balled up. “That’s too far James.”

In that moment something in James’s eyes snapped. His face fell as the realisation sunk in of what he had just said. I felt my eyes start to well with tears and my vision become blurry. I furiously wiped my tears with my sleeve.

“Y/N I-“

“Get away from me!” I lashed out screaming. James tried to step forward to say something but before the words could come out, I cut him off. “Don’t talk to me you bastard!” I quickly turned on my heal, running out of the room as more and more tears fell from my eyes.

I ran to my bedroom and slammed the door shut, sliding down it I sob harder and harder into my hands. What did I do to him?! I hear loud knocking on the door as someone tries the knob. “Your highness? Can I come in?”

There’s no point in punishing Erik… He didn’t do anything wrong. I stand up and open the door, standing back into the middle of my room. Erik comes in quietly and locks the door. When he sees me his face melts. “Highness...”

He sweeps me up into a bear hug, wrapping me tightly in his arms as I sob into his chest. Erik sighs leaning his head on top of mine. “Highness… if your grandfather saw you now… he’d be proud beyond compare! Think of all the things you’ve accomplished!” I sniffle and look up at Erik.

“It’s not even that that bothers me… he knows that stings and he said it anyway… why would he say that though?”

Erik smiles weakly. “Because as smart as my brother likes to think he is. He really isn’t, especially not when it comes to- …”

I look up at Erik puzzled waiting for him to finish his sentence but he never does. “When it comes to?” Erik goes a slight shade of pink probably realising he’s said too much. “You… Highness” I pull back from Erik slightly moving over to sit on my bed. “Me?”

Erik nods as he makes his way over to my nightstand. He picks up a small framed photo of all the boys, Diana, Saero and I at the beach. We’re all laughing and having fun. It’s definitely one of my favourites! And not just because James has his arm around me. “When it comes to you Highness… although it may not seem like it right now… James cares a great deal about you. More than I’ve seen him care about anyone who isn’t one of us…”

“Then why would he-“

“He’s confused. He’s not good at this sort of stuff. I know it’s horrible but just let him work himself out.” Erik sits beside me gently pressing the frame into my hands. I gently run my fingers over James’s face. I nod slowly and Erik leans in to hug me.

-------

By the time seven o’clock rolls around, Sam, Damien and Matthew have all asked me to come down and join them for dinner. Each time I declined though. I have decided to plunge myself back into school work, working on a 5,000-word scripted essay due for next month.

I sit with my headphones on, listening to the new album I bought. I was about half way through it when I felt a gently tap on my shoulder. I turned around taking my headphones off and jumped in surprise to see James.

His face was torn in guilt. His eyebrows were glued together and his eyes were filled with sadness. His hair was slightly messy and ruffled, a really odd thing for the perfectionist. The sight of him almost made me forget all the anger and sadness. Almost.

“What are you doing in here?”

“I knocked but you didn’t answer…”

“Ever think that was because I didn’t want to talk to you?”

It was a lie of course. I had been hoping all afternoon that he would come upstairs so we could get over this. I had been looking over my shoulder every few minutes hoping to see him standing there however, he seemed to have believed me. He sighs and runs his hands through his messy hair. “I… deserved that…”

He walks over to the side of my desk, perching himself on it. “I’m sorry Y/N… I really am… I just got so… angry…”

“but why?” I stood up from my chair looking at his face, hoping for any sign, any hint of an answer. His gaze dropped from my face to the ground at my feet. “Y/N please come down stairs and eat… you shouldn’t have to-“

“Don’t tell me what to do James.” I warn him. Not viciously but with enough warning in there that he knew I was serious. He nods, still refusing to make eye contact with me. This was too strange. I had to know.

“James tell me why you were angry.”

My voice sounded more like a plea than I would have wish but it finally got James to lift his eyes, if only for a moment. “I… if I say- you must promise to eat.” I nod to him sitting on my bed, getting comfortable and preparing for whatever he is about to say. “I was jealous… you were spending time with Sam and Matthew…” I look at him, dumbfounded in shock. He was jealous of Matthew and Sam? I couldn’t help but let out a shocked simple laugh. James looked at me, his face still covered in guilt.

“But you’ve been avoiding-“

And it suddenly clicked. It was a clear as day to me. I could hear Erik’s words ringing in my ears.

James cares a great deal about you, He’s not good at this sort of stuff.

and now he’s jealous of Sam and Matthew.

Suddenly I became determined. I had to make him say it. Out loud. “And why were you jealous?” He says nothing. He doesn’t move. He’s silent. I look up at him, I can feel my face burning and my fists ball up as I stand on my knees.

“Why?”

“…”

“Say it!”

“I’m in love with you Y/N…”

I sit back down, in stunned silence. He actually said it. I stare at him saying nothing, almost in a hazy daze. He stares back at me, looking almost terrified. “Y/N say something… please…”

“Why?” It’s nothing more than a whisper but it’s all I can manage. I feel tears start to form in my eyes. “Why ignore me? Why say what you did? Why wouldn’t you tell me?”

James shakes his head looking to the ground. “Because I love you and it scares me… Y/N I don’t know what to do. I’ve never felt like this before…”

“Well, me neither.” The tears start to overflow as a couple spill out my cheeks. James looks at me shocked. He walks over to me and kneels in front of my bed to be at my level. He gently lifts his hand to wipe a couple of stray tears. “What did you just-“

I cut him off by grabbing his shirt and pulling him in for a kiss. The kiss is needy and passionate and he responds almost immediately. My hands wonder to his chest as his hands roam up my body and tangle themselves into my hair. I pull him closer to me and toss him onto the bed, climbing on top of him. “I love you too… I don’t know what I’d do without you… please don’t shut me out.”

James shakes his head as he cups my face with his hands. “Not anymore love…” He kisses me again except this time it’s softer, more tender. I lean into it, wanting to be as close to James as possible. I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him even closer to me. After a while we pull apart to catch our breath and James’s half-smile makes my heart skip a beat. He’s utterly gorgeous.

“Will you join me for dinner now, Y/N?

My face flushes red as I nod, grinning ear to ear. “I’d love to.”

#seduce me #Seduceme #seduce me otome #seduce me demon war #SeduceMeOtome #james #James Anderson #james x reader #James x Mika #Raestrao #raestrao x mika #raestrao x reader #sam #SAM ANDERSON #aomaris #Matthew Anderson #matthew #Zecaeru

103 notes · View notes

love-fireflysong · 3 years ago

Photo

It be June 1st now my darlings, and to celebrate this FANTASTIC pride month, here’s the first of what will hopefully be at least a couple fics this month. First up: Fairy Tale (as guessed by @jesus-hotsauce-christmas-cake)! I will be completely honest though, it definitely does not use fairy tale as a trope, so I *kind of* failed in that regard, but it does have it as an underlying theme if that makes any sense. It was one of the few on this list that I had absolutely no idea for, so I just starting writing words to see what came out. And, well, it was certainly something lol.

You can read the fic over on ao3 here: True Love’s Kiss Never Felt Like This or you can just click on the readmore to read it here instead. Either way, hope you enjoy this sappy entry and I should hopefully have the next one up soon-ish!

(PS: if anyone wants to influence which ones I do this month, then send me a number from 10-99 and I’ll see if it matches anything on the board I’ve got set up. I’ve got mostly chrashley planned admittedly, but there is a healthy amount of climbing chrash as well! And some Tales of Phantasia stuff but the only person who probably wants to read that is me lets be real lol.)

True Love’s Kiss Never Felt Like This

Trope: Fairy Tale Fandom: Until Dawn Character(s): Ashley Brown, Chris Hartley Words: 1405 Rating: General Author’s Notes: Sap. This is just pure, sweet, sugary sap. This is apparently what happens when I’ve been writing nothing but angst for the past three or so months and I just let my fingers fly and see where they take me.

Okay, Ashley wasn’t going to lie. She had always known that after finally letting Chris know that she liked him—like like-liked him, really like-liked him actually—that everything wasn’t just going to turn into a fairy tale after all. And that was before Chris had somehow magically confirmed that he like-liked her back. She knew that there was going to be no magical disney moment after that first hesitant but highly anticipated kiss. No fireworks going off in the background as music swelled to its crescendo. No docile creatures coming out of the forest to investigate the oh so sweet moment taking place before them. Though the fact that the entire event had gone down in the middle of Chris’s parent’s living room had admittedly made those two an impossibility.

(Though the sound of the popcorn popping in the kitchen combined with background music from the pause menu of the game they had been playing had been close admittedly. The Hartley’s old german shepherd could have worked for the second as well she supposed, but Toby was sleeping in his bed in the corner and not caring one whit about what they were doing on the couch, so that one may have been stretching it.)

She was also sure that the fairy tale princess’s first kiss with the prince didn’t involve them knocking foreheads together a frankly embarrassing amount of times before they both figured out how this whole sort of thing was maybe supposed to work, and one of them finally working up the courage to actually close the distance in the first place. She didn’t think that Chris leaving her to sit red-faced and dumbfounded on his couch when he frantically went to go and grab the quickly burning popcorn from the microwave would have happened either. And then the two of them had been so awkward the entire rest of the evening, refusing to even look at each other lest they both attempt to burst into flames on the spot, but also giggling helplessly every few minutes when the memory of what they had both just finally accomplished hit them again and again.

Though they had moved from their spots on either side of the couch to sit closer together in the middle, and their hands had certainly brushed in the popcorn bowl more often than not, so that had certainly been an improvement.

Even the good-bye hadn’t been fairy tale worthy. There was no tight embrace and proclamation of love as they separated for the night. Nope, after sputtering and stammering in Chris’s truck for an embarrassing amount of time when he drove her back home—just going back and forth with the same old farewells and getting nowhere—Ashley had bit the bullet and surprised the both of them by reaching over the gear shift to give him a kiss on the cheek. Leaving the both of them flustered as she had squeaked out a frantic ‘night!’ and all but ran out the vehicle to her front door. The moment she had entered her bedroom and closed the door behind her, she had fallen onto her bed with her head in her hands shrieking in joy as she wiggled around, kicking her feet into the air as she finally let all of the built up glee inside of her burst out into the safety of her room.

Yeah, she was pretty sure that princesses didn’t act like prepubescent teenagers after (finally) kissing the prince either.

So no, she hadn’t expected a fairy tale ending complete with a ‘happily ever after’ once the prince and princess kissed. But she also hadn’t expected things to be so hard now either. Except it wasn’t hard, it was so, so easy. But that was wrong too because it was impossibly hard. Because hey, it turns out that the things that changed when moving from 'best friends’ to 'boyfriend and girlfriend’ was absolutely everything and nothing all at once.

The two of them still sent the same text messages every morning and night as they did before, except now she could see the blatant flirting and the 'oh god please notice me’ that had always been buried into every one of his texts, the same things she had always sent in hers. They still met for lunch almost everyday between classes, but now Chris saw the way her eyes would often flicker to his mouth for just a moment after he told a joke before going back up to meet his gaze. They still gave each other a hug goodbye when they parted to return to their own classes, but now they squeezed just a little tighter, held on for just a little longer, before one of them would say goodbye with a chaste little kiss on the corner of the mouth. Their smiles afterwards were always just a little brighter too, and their faces just a little more flushed. He still meets up with her after classes are done for the day (except for the days she meets up with him first of course), but now Ashley realizes that he no longer laughed and claimed that his hand was just a little stiff from coding all afternoon whenever she noticed him flex and clench it before shoving it into his pocket when she matched his stride to walk beside him to his truck. Now there was no flex and clench at all, because almost the second one of them reached the other’s side, one of them would reach out with their hand to tangle their fingers together, if not the both of them at the same time. They still talked on the drive back to her dorm so he could drop her off; asking the other about their day, how classes went, if there was any exciting gossip that they managed to overhear. It was the same conversation, filled with the same laughs and the same jokes, but there the warmth and comfort that had always been there was now magnified to almost terrifying proportions.

Ashley’s pretty sure that fairy tale princesses don’t feel their heart flip in their chests everytime they kiss goodbye. That they don’t feel themselves getting dizzy like she does when Chris cups her cheek so he can kiss her again. And again. And again. Until they’re both breathless with their foreheads pressed together and smiling wider then she had ever thought possible. Certain that the prince’s face doesn’t get nearly as red as Chris’s does on the days he follows her into her dorm to watch a movie or do homework or play a game when Ashley’s roommate is gone for the next few hours.

She’s also pretty damn sure that the princess manages to not completely burn and collapse the cake that she tried to make for his birthday the following month. Probably hadn’t managed to send the moronic prince to the ER when he still stupidly tried to eat the thing as a joke either, but that wasn’t the point. Or maybe it was. Kissing Chris always kind of left her mind a little cloudy and hazy with bliss after all, and the one’s he had given her after that to relieve her fears had been only more so.

(Ashley’s definitely sure that doesn’t happen to fairy tale princesses either.)

And while some princesses may often get side-tracked by books in the store window, they likely don’t get accidentally left behind by their prince and mutual best friend while they’re deep in conversation. Likely don’t know what it’s like to have their heart jump into their throat when the back of her hand accidentally brushes the back of his when she catches back up. And before she can apologize for bumping into him, they have never experienced the love that bubbles up in her chest when Chris has already reached out and curled his fingers around hers, all without looking at her and still laughing while continuing his conversation with Josh. The prince’s laugh probably doesn’t sound as nice as his either, but she’s ready to admit that she’s more than likely just biased in this case.

This definitely isn’t a fairy tale ending, not by a long shot. There’s no heartwarming wedding scene with no final 'and they all lived happily ever after: the end’ taking up the screen in loopy, cursive font. And that’s okay.

Because this? Oh, this was so much better.

#my writing #pride month prompt challenge #until dawn #ashley brown #chris hartley #chrashley

24 notes · View notes

vhsrights · 4 years ago

Text

first “i love you” / love confession - @sapphicinephile

Love Isn’t Bound by Languages - Jemily

WC: 1612

IT’S FINALLY DONE. :)

“Kiss the cook? Don’t mind if I do, but only if the pasta turns out good.” JJ made strong eye contact, hoping that Emily caught on to the weight of her words.

“Oh, well then. I guess I’ll be getting kissed tonight. Lucky me.”

The door settled into place with a soft click and JJ walked to the side, removing her coat and shoes. She had brought the ingredients for their wine and cooking night. Fresh tomatoes, herbs, and pasta rustled around in the tote bag. They had opted to make pasta that Emily had suggested, remembering her time watching the cooks in her childhood kitchen. JJ had readily agreed because she was never one to turn down food and wanted to see Emily’s prowess in cooking. Speaking of the brunette, she wasn’t visible as JJ moved slowly through the apartment.

Warm candlelight engulfed the room in front of her. The skylight windows provided an unrestricted view of the world beneath her. It was humbling in a way that Jennifer couldn’t describe. She stood high in this tiny apartment, watching the people below her bustle about their lives, unaware of her gaze. Pulling her eyes away from the outside, JJ meandered around the apartment’s living room. Her eyes slowly perused the sparse art that was on the wall. It gave the apartment an air of grace, but one that felt fake and inauthentic to the woman that she knew lived within its walls.

“Jen.” The way that her nickname sounded, full of elegance, drove more butterflies into JJ’s stomach.

“Em, hey. I got the groceries. Are you ready?”

JJ turned around and was met with Emily. The woman looked unexplainably gorgeous in her casual flannel, t-shirt, and sweats combo. JJ felt her thoughts stutter as she took in the brunette. She couldn’t move as Emily glided past her, her gait full of confidence and aimed towards the kitchen.

“Hey, Jen. You coming?”

“Yeah. Yeah, sorry about that.” JJ turned around and followed Emily while blushing.

She was glad that it had been cold outside, giving her an excuse for her tinted cheeks.

“Alrighty, so first things first. Here is your apron.” Emily pulled out an apron that had “It’s not burnt! Just Crispy!” and JJ laughed. “Hey, I thought you’d like it.”

Emily fake a pout as JJ grabbed the apron and tied it around her waist, still giggling. The cloth somehow still managed to hang loose. Emily noticed and ignored her rapidly beating heart before speaking. She hid her hands in her pockets as they fidgeted increasingly harder to keep her guise of calmness.

“I can help you tie it, Jen. Here, I got it.” Emily pushed off from the counter and circumvented the blonde.

She grabbed the string of the apron. Her hands barely brushed against JJ’s waist yet sent jolts through both of them. Not wanting to prolong their closeness for fear of her heart’s desires, Emily deftly tied the bow. Luckily, or “unluckily”, there was a second set of strings to be tied around JJ’s neck. Of course, she had picked the apron with two sets of ties. Silently reprimanding herself, Emily pushed JJ’s hair to the side. Her hands hesitated as she worked up her nerve.

Stop making this weird. The longer you wait, the more off you’ll seem to Jen. Get it together, Prentiss. Jeez, you’re like a teenager with a crush.

“Em, you okay? Can you tie it?” JJ could feel her heartbeat in her throat, trying to suppress her nerves from bubbling up.

“Yeah. Yeah. It’s done.” Emily made haste in finishing the knot and answering her, pulling away to soothe her racing heart.

She grabbed her own apron and threw it on. This one didn’t have two ties. Lucky Emily. JJ began to giggle once more as she pulled the ingredients out of her tote bag, leaving Emily confused.

“What?” She truly had no idea what JJ was giggling at.

“Did they have a sale at the punny apron store?” Emily looked at her with ample confusion. “Kiss the cook? Don’t mind if I do, but only if the pasta turns out good.” JJ made strong eye contact, hoping that Emily caught on to the weight of her words.

“Oh, well then. I guess I’ll be getting kissed tonight. Lucky me.”

Two could play at this game. The words were no different from their usual banter. However, where they were, about to cook, made it a whole other playing field. Neither woman was one to back down from a competition. The two moved easily around the kitchen, shifting past each other as if they had been doing it for years. Emily’s straightforward instructions left nothing to be desired and helped the women accomplish their dish in the perfect amount of time.

JJ may have nicked herself with the knife a couple of times, but what’s art without a few hiccups. Italian music serenaded them softly from the background. It was like a scene out of a cheesy romantic movie, one that Emily pretended to hate but secretly loved. Both women stole plentiful yearning looks at each other. They caught each other’s eyes and were quick to tear them away.

“Jen, can I get a taste of that?” Emily rested her hand softly on JJ’s hip, leaning over her side to sip the sauce.

“Sure. Here.” JJ felt the warmth of Emily’s body behind her. She had to focus to keep her hand from shaking as she lifted it for the brunette.

Emily tasted the sauce and all but moaned at its illustrious flavors. JJ was extremely thankful that the brunette was standing behind her. Her cheeks had flushed at the sound and her body froze. God, she is trying to kill me. She set the spoon to the side and turned her focus back to the food, as much as her mind would allow. They worked in perfect harmony for the rest of the time; joking, laughing, dancing, and cooking together.

Emily eventually plated the food with JJ’s help. The women marveled at their creation, eager to dig into the dishes. They high-fived before separating one final time. JJ set the table and Emily did some basic cleaning in the kitchen.

“Rossi could never,” Emily smirked mischievously as the two sat down to eat.

“Oh, of course not. We are the new Papa Pastas.” JJ encouraged the joke, thinking to their older teammate’s staunch relationship to pasta.

The food not only looked enticing, but it also tasted heavenly. Both women didn’t speak for the rest of the dinner time, enraptured by their dinner. Emily and JJ occasionally glanced over at each other, conveying their content and other emotions. Neither own wanted to acknowledge the beautiful domesticity of the moment. This was something that both women wanted to do for the rest of their lives, held back by the barrier of unspoken words. Time passed on and the women moved from the table to kitchen, easily washing and putting away dishes for a later time.

Eventually they settled on the couch, heavily poured wine glasses in hand. The evening had gone perfectly.

“Wow. That was so delicious. I think that I owe a thanks to your mother’s cooks. That recipe was perfect.” JJ sipped her wine as Emily watched her with love in her eyes.

“Absolutely. They make me remember that simpler time. My world was so small, and they helped me get through each day.” JJ beamed, noticing the ease and tranquility that had erased the lines of strain and overworking from Emily’s face.

“Speaking of world, I have a question.” Emily thought of her question and smiled.

“Go for it, Em,” JJ spoke, with her interest peaked.

“If you could shout one thing from the rooftops, in any language, and to everyone in the world, what would you say?” Emily watched the light grow in JJ’s eyes.

The blonde’s eyes widened and her mind froze. She had been learning Italian in her spare time, trying to build the courage to use with Emily. She had only needed to learn one phrase, but the rest were useful as well. Now was her shot. Waiting a short second before inhaling deeply, JJ spoke the only phrase in Italian that she fully understood.

“Sono innamorato di Emily Prentiss.”

Emily stopped. Her brain went into overdrive. Translating and retranslating the phrase, hoping that it meant what she understood it to be. I am in love with Emily Prentiss. Her heart was beating in her throat and her thoughts were hazy. She set the wine glass down and looked at JJ, really studying her. She only saw love and admiration, not finding the joke or deceit that she imagined. This was really happening.

“Sono innamorato di Jennifer Jareau.”

The words rolled off of her tongue smoothly as they had done many a time before. Except now, Jennifer would actually hear it. JJ let out the breath she had been holding. I am in love with Jennifer Jareau. It was unbelievable, but her mind began to whizz through things to say.

The only thing that came out was, “Really?”

“Yes. From the first time I spoke to you, and so much more since then.” JJ couldn’t help but smile with all of the hope and love that was bubbling out of her.

“It was the same for me. I fell for you, so hard that I guess I didn’t see you falling for me too. So, can I?” JJ pointed at Emily.

“Can you what?” Not realizing that she hadn’t taken off her apron, Emily looked down.

Kiss the Cook.

“The pasta was beyond amazing, so I have to keep my promise.” JJ giggled and Emily rapidly agreed.

Emily pulled JJ in for a kiss. Their lips met and the world stopped around them. It was the perfect end to their night.

That night, JJ and Emily truly learned that love isn’t bound by languages.

#jemily #prompts #writing #i love you confession #userjemilyology #jennifer jareau #emily prentiss #cm

44 notes · View notes

delicatelyherdreams · 5 years ago

Text

Pragma(tic) 6: He Never Listens

Pairing: Persephone!Bucky Barnes x Hades!Reader

Summary: In a world where the old gods never truly died, you must learn to navigate your way through the ups and downs of immortality. And if living forever wasn’t hard enough, an ancient evil is now threatening to break free after centuries of silence. And as if that still wasn’t hard enough for you, now a pesky and infuriatingly handsome god is trying to wedge his way into your life. Gods, work, love, and conflict—what more could a goddess need? [Hades & Persephone AU]

Word Count: 5244

Warnings: Language

Pragma(tic) Masterlist

Previous 5: She Deals With a Pest

“Where’s your head been lately, Buck?”

“Hmm? I don’t know what you mean.”

“I mean,” Steve said turning his torso to face his best friend, “you’ve been distracted these past few weeks, and I want to know why.”

Bucky only shrugged, his eyes glazing over as he stared down at the mortal city before them. “I dunno, man. I guess I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”

“Like what?” Steve was persistent, prodding, desperate to know what was troubling him. “Come on, man, you can tell me anything.”

This was true, but Bucky wasn’t sure he could tell him this: that he was still sneaking into the Underworld when their backs were turned or when he had a spare moment. He wasn’t sure that he could tell Steve that he was enchanted by the only goddess he was forbidden to talk with.

It’d been about two months since his and Hades’ first meeting, and he’d been down there a total of four times since. The first time, she caught him at the border and sent him back after a scolding. The second, he made it to beautiful Elysium, spooked a couple spirits, and had the time of his life before she dragged him out, less annoyed and more amused than the first. But these last two times, even though she told him that he wasn’t allowed to be down there and sent him back, she talked to him like he was an acquaintance. She answered his questions (“Where do you live?” “On the mountain.” “Is it lonely?” “Sometimes, but that’s why I have a dog and friends.” “Am I your friend?” “No.” “Are we ever going to be friends?” “I cannot say.”) and even gave him a smile. That was a personal accomplishment for him.

He felt like he was getting to her, breaking down the walls little by little. Gods, he knew he still had a long way to go, but he couldn’t help but feel proud that he’d gotten as far as he did. The last time he was down there, she didn’t even kick him out that harshly; she just walked him out as if walking guests out from a party and actually said “Goodbye, James” when she left. If that wasn’t progress, Bucky didn’t know what was.

Bucky pursed his lips, debating on how to tell his friend what was going on without really telling him what was going on. “I guess it’s just…” He trailed off, his brain running with ideas and words, none of which were good enough to conceal the truth.

“Yes? It’s just what?”

He nodded his head to the side, before finally saying, “There’s this girl, and I can’t get her out of my head. She’s so different from other people I’ve met before, and it’s wonderful. But I’m not sure how I feel about her or how she feels about me, y’know?” He sighed and lifted his head up to the sky to stare at the clouds. If he focused hard enough, he could almost make out her face in the patterns, as insane as it was.

“I mean, kinda?” Steve shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve never really had that before. What’s her name?”

“Hade— Harriet.”

Steve snorted, his chest jolting with the sudden movement. “Hade-Harriet? What kind of name is that.”

Bucky could feel the color rising up his neck as it tried to creep on his cheeks. He turned his head away. “Her name is Harriet.” *Harriet.* Really? Was that the best he could come up with? Welp, it was going to have to work for now. “She’s really cool, but she’s also stubborn and strict. She’s really insistent on boundaries.”

“Uh-huh, and where did you meet her?”

*Dammit, Steve. Stop asking questions.*

“I—uh—I met her in the Mortal World. You and Sam were napping and I wanted to go shopping, so I went down to the mainland to see what stores there were. And we just kinda ran into each other, you know.”

Bucky was impressed with how easily he had fabricated the story, he just hoped that Steve bought it.

Steve didn’t, but he didn’t get a chance to call Bucky on his bullshit.

The wind picked up, swirling all around the two men. The grass spun around them, blowing violently, bringing the smell of plants along with it. The wind funneled, creating a narrow tube. The wind grew hazy, thick with grain and greens, as it moved to a spot in front of them.

Steve straightened up, his shoulders rolling back to appear more formal.

Bucky did the same, for he knew what this wind meant: the arrival of his mother.

When the wind cleared, a woman with dark hair to match Bucky’s and startling green eyes stood before them. She was dressed in a deep green suit, gold ornaments woven into her hair. She beamed down at the two, her eyes sparkling when she laid eyes on her son. “Hello, James,” she greeted, her voice as strong as her finest plants and her smile as warm as the sun that fed them.

“Mother!” Bucky rose to his full height, a good five inches taller than his mother, and took fast strides over to her to engulf her in a hug.

“Oh, my baby boy,” she said as she hugged him tightly. “It’s been too long! How are things? How are you doing? Staying out of trouble I assume?”

“Oh yes, Mrs. B,” Steve chimed. “Sam and I have been doing a good job at keeping James here straight.”

She smiled. “Good. Speaking of which, where is Sam?”

“Oh, he’s down in the city grabbing us some cheeseburgers. He lost rock paper scissors and got sacrificed to go on the food run.”

At this, Winnifred frowned. “You know I don’t like you boys going down there. Why don’t you go up to Olympus for lunch instead? There’s this cafe that makes the best ambrosia ever! You simply must try it.”

Bucky gave her a polite smile. “Alright, Mother. We’ll go there next time for lunch.” He cleared his throat, starting to change the subject. “So, why have you come?”

“Oh, you know. I had a bit of a break at the office and decided to come visit my son, make sure he’s doing well and— Wait, what’s that smell?”

*Fuck.*

“Wh-What smell?” Bucky asked, trying so hard to keep his voice steady and even. He knew damn well what smell, but he wasn’t going to point that out.

His mother scrunched her nose in disgust. “It smells like death. What the—” She turned her eyes towards Bucky, seemingly fixating on him and glowering.

Bucky felt the color drain from his cheeks. He was done for. She knew. She knew it was him and—

“What the hell is happening here?” She marched towards him, passing him with an air of agitation. She stopped at a tree several yards behind the boys and stared at it with a glare. “James, this tree is dying, and you didn’t save it?” She reached out and pressed her palm flat against its trunk. Instantly the dark bark began to lighten with life as she rejuvenated it. “Honestly, James. You’re supposed to be a god of spring. The least you can do is keep alive what little area I gave you.” She shot a teasing smile at him over her shoulder.

Bucky almost laughed with relief, but instead, he adopted a more serious demeanor. “I’m sorry, Mother. I’ll do better next time.”

“You’d better if you want to become an even better god!” She pulled away from the tree before walking back to the boys. “Well, I’m sorry to have to leave so soon, but I only came for a short visit. Work is busy as ever in the spring and I need to keep tabs on all the harvests.” She smiled at Steve. “You tell Sam ‘hello’ for me and keep an eye on my boy, you hear?”

Steve nodded politely. “Yes, ma’am. We’ll keep him out of trouble.”

“Good. Then…” She turned to Bucky and held her arms out. “Give your mother one last hug.”

Bucky chuckled but complied. “Mother, you don’t have to treat me like a kid anymore. I’m more than a thousand years old.”

“I know, but you’ll always be my baby boy.” She kissed his cheek before pulling away from him. “I’ll see you soon, my child. Until the next time.” And just like that, she was gone; vanished into a cloud of grain and wheat.

As soon as she was gone, Bucky let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding in. He was always tense around his mother, even more so now that he had something to hide. He just hoped that she would never find out his dirty little secret.

———

It was another few days before Bucky was able to sneak away from Steve and Sam again. It was in the dead of the night, when they were sleeping, that Bucky crept away, staying as silent as possible. He walked away from the clearing that the boys had chosen to sleep in, and summoned a pair of dark jeans and a blue shirt to clothe him. The garments materialized on his body as they did for every god, taking the place of his pajamas. Using the cover of night, he slipped away.

A perk of being a god, even a minor, fledgling one like him, was the teleportation. With a destination on his mind, Bucky could travel anywhere on Heaven and Earth that he wanted. And it was through this, that Bucky appeared on Cape Matapan, a small landmass at the end of Greece’s Mani Peninsula. The mortals had said that the elaborate network of caves there concealed an entrance to Hades. They were right, although it was a difficult journey. But Bucky had been using these caves to get into the Underworld ever since Hades sealed off the Dikteon Cave and tightened security at the Acheron. She wasn’t quite aware of this entrance yet and Bucky wanted to keep it like that. After all, he was starting to run out of ways to sneak in under her nose.

Bucky took a couple of steps into the cave before pausing and leaning down. A flashlight was nestled against the wall of the cave, right where he’d left it the last time. His fingers wrapped around the metal cylinder of the flashlight and he flicked it on. The beam pierced the darkness of the cave, illuminating the tunnels ahead, and he began the short journey down.

Slopes and declines in the path took him deeper and deeper into the earth; and as he descended, he could feel the life seeping out of the air—a telltale sign that he was nearing his destination.

He walked for twenty or so minutes before he hit the end of the tunnel network. The cavern opened up slightly, still darkened with a black that swallowed up any and all light around.

Bucky grinned. He’d made it down, and now all he had to do was take a step in. He flicked off the flashlight, plunging the cave into darkness and set it down on the ground before walking right into the mass of black before him. It was cold as always, stealing any sign of warmth and life from his bones, and it made him shudder, but he pushed on. Eventually he was tossed out onto the other side, right at the edge of a flower meadow. The cave behind him sealed, taking on the facade of being a simple wall, but Bucky knew what it was. He stumbled a bit as he emerged, but he caught his footing pretty quickly. He wasn’t going to fall like he had the first time, not when there were so many spirits around to bear witness to it.

He straightened up and looked over the area.

Shades milled about the field—the Asphodel Meadows, he thought it was called—all minding their own business as they floated aimlessly. Very few paid him any attention, but that didn’t bother him. The less attention he drew, the better. Beyond the Meadows, he saw the gates of Elysium rising high and the mountain right next to it. The black mansion at its peak was daunting as ever, and yet that was his destination. Bucky wondered how close he’d make it this time before Hades found him and sent him home.

Determined to at least make it to the base of her mountain, Bucky started walking. The shades around him parted, making a narrow path in his wake and allowing him easier means to reach his destination. Of course, he could’ve just walked through them, but that would’ve been rude and his mother had raised him to be a gentleman.

The mountain grew larger as he neared, towering over him and becoming more and more intimidating with every step. He could begin to make out the details of Hades’ mansion now and even see figures moving behind the frosted glass of the windows. She was home, and she had company.

He hesitated. If Hades had guests over, as surprising as that would be, maybe he shouldn’t impose. He could always come back another time or—

“Back again, I see.”

He squeaked and whirled around, lifting his hands to defend himself in case of an attack. But none ever came.

Instead, Hades just crossed her arms and smirked, her red-coated lips quirked up with amusement. “Did I startle you, little prince?”

Bucky scoffed, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. “No. You just caught me off guard.”

“So I startled you?”

“Well… Maybe.” He shook his head and looked her over.

The other times he’d weaseled his way in and she’d come to greet him, she’d always looked professional, prim, and proper. She would always be adorned with a black business blazer, pressed pants, and an elegant pair of flats. Her eyes would always be shrouded with a smokey eye and her lips would always glow as red as her eyes. Her hair would always be styled, not a single hair out of place. But this time there was no makeup on her face that was apparent to him, strands of loose hair flew every-which-way in a fashion that was unruly but still attractive, and she was dressed in a more casual attire of black jeans that hugged her legs, a plain grey shirt that hung loosely from her shoulders, and black sneakers.

If Bucky had an opinion, he would’ve said that she looked as attractive as ever, but he didn’t have an opinion. He lifted his chin with a smile. “How did you get down here so fast?”

“I sensed you coming. Using the shadows, I came to your side.” She gestured down to the shadows of the flowers that fell on the ground. She was standing in one like she’d just risen from it.

“But I just saw you and someone else in the window and I thought that you had company.”

“Oh, I do,” she said with a nonchalant shrug. “But it’s just Peggy. She was on her way out anyway; she has her own paperwork to get to.”

“Peggy? Goddess of magic, crossroads, ghosts—”

“And other things,” Hades confirmed. “The mortals call her Hecate, but her name is Peggy.” Hades turned her head away from him and looked up at the mansion on the mountain. “She’s up there with my dog. I sometimes think that she likes him more than she likes me.” She chuckled.

“I didn’t know you had a dog.” Bucky smiled softly at her, keeping his head down so he could see her easier and she could see his face.

She scrunched her nose. “Really? You seriously did not know that I have a dog? Cerberus is in nearly every myth about me, and he helps guard the entrance to the Underworld to make sure the souls don’t get out.”

Bucky had no idea. He never read the myths, he only knew some names of the other gods. With a sheepish laugh, he rubbed the back of his neck and shifted his weight from side to side. “N-No I didn’t. I—”

He didn’t get the chance to finish his sentence because, at that moment, Hades brought two fingers up to her mouth and whistled. The sound rang loud and clear through the still air and a crash followed it almost immediately.

Rapid movement from the mansion atop the mountain drew his eye, and he saw a black mass bounding down the path of the mountain. It was moving at a speed that shouldn’t have been possible for a normal dog, drawing dangerously close with every second. Bucky was tempted to run away—he’d never seen anything like this before—but Hades, with her calm demeanor as she watched the figure approaching with only an amused smile betraying her emotion, coaxed him to stay. He stood his ground, anxiously awaiting the arrival of the black mass.

As it neared, its details became clear. He saw the animal’s shaggy black fur shining in the dim light of the Underworld and its glowing red eyes staring at him and Hades. Its tongue was hanging out of its mouth, its lips spread wide as if it was grinning. When it came within three yards of the pair, it let out a loud yelp before leaping into the air right at Hades. Bucky was certain it was going to knock her down, but she opened her arms and caught him as easily as if it were a child.

She laughed, the sound music to Bucky’s ears, as the wolf-like creature attacked her face with its tongue. “Cerberus!” she cried, her voice as light and airy as Bucky had ever heard it. “Get down! I’ve taught you better than this.”

It was then that Bucky realized that this was her dog. His lips split back into a smile. “Well isn’t he a handsome thing.”

“You think this is great, you should see him at his full height.” She grinned down at her dog, cupping his face in her hands. “He’s huge, and all three of his heads come out. It’s sad though, I only have two hands and I can’t pet them all.”

Bucky snorted, but said nothing, opting to observe instead. He was fascinated with the scene in front of him. He’d never seen Hades so relaxed; she was always ushering him out as fast as she could, and it was amazing for him to see her like this. It made his heart race in his chest and his smile widen to an uncomfortable size. It made his head light and his stomach flip. It made him happy.

Hades pulled away from Cerberus and turned to look at Bucky. “I figured you two ought to be acquainted since he’ll be helping me kick you out from now on, or doing it himself if I’m too busy to deal with you.” She glanced at him through her eyelashes.

Bucky feigned being hurt and clutched his chest with his hand. “I’m not even going to have the pleasure of being escorted out by the Queen of the Underworld?”

“Not when she’s too busy dealing with queenly things to take care of your ass.” She quirked an eyebrow at him. “Now, come on. You know the drill.” She jerked her head in the direction of the Acheron.

Bucky groaned. “Oh, come on! I just got here!”

“And now you’re just leaving.” She rubbed Cerberus’ head one more time before reaching forward and grabbing Bucky’s wrist. “I’ve got shit to deal with right now. Filing away souls, welcoming new Elysium residents, going over appeals for Elysium admittance; my job is never done.”

Bucky walked with her, staring at the hair on the back of her head and tracing the patterns of the strands. “Yeah? What else do you do?”

She shrugged, but answered, “A variety of things: manage the other gods down here, maintain border security, deal with difficult souls that want to cause disturbances, walk my dog, sometimes go around Elysium and mark up renovations that need to happen. You name it, I probably deal with it in one way or another. That’s what happens when you rule a realm.”

Bucky nodded, his eyes glinting with interest. “It seems like you really care about people down here.”

“Oh, I do,” Hades agreed. “They’re my subjects, mine to protect and guard. I love them like my family.” She smiled fondly, her lips twitching up as her eyes crinkled at the corners. “There’s a bunch of good people down here, but there are also some bad…” Her smile dissolved and her eyes flickered towards the far wall of the Underworld where the Phlegethon flowed. “But that doesn’t matter right now. What matters is how you’ve managed to keep sneaking down here. Would you care to clue me in?”

He smirked. “You know, I would but then you’d just go and block it off and I’d never be able to return.”

“You’re damn right. You’re causing major security concerns whenever you get in without me knowing until you’re already down here.” She was deadly serious now, and Bucky could feel it radiating off her in waves. “If you can get in, then that means other things can too. And I don’t know if you’ve been made aware or not, but we’ve got some big-shot prisoners down here that enemies of the gods would just love to set free. If they were to find out that the Underworld has a security breach, then who knows what kind of chaos they could unleash.” She glanced at him, just barely turning her head in his direction. “I need to know, James. How are you getting in?”

Bucky nibbled at his lip and turned his head up. He was thinking.

On one hand, he could see where Hades was coming from, and logically he knew he should tell her where his entrance was, but on the other he was afraid she was going to seal him out forever. He’d grown attached to the Underworld, finding it interesting, unique, and beautiful. He wanted to know more about it, explore it, and see what made Hades love it so. He wasn’t ready to give it up, but he knew he had to share.

Bucky crossed his arms and pressed his lips together, reluctance rolling off him in waves, before admitting, “Cape Matapan. The myths said that if you go down deep enough into the caves, then you’ll reach the Underworld and, well, they’re right. I’ve used them the past couple of times.”

And at that, she smiled at him. Not one of the half-smiles she’d been giving him, but a full-blown smile that lit up her entire face.

It made Bucky’s heart flutter with exhilaration, and he couldn’t help but think that he should do things to make her smile more. She was breathtaking; drop-dead gorgeous.

She continued to smile at him as she said, “Thank you, James. I really appreciate your honesty.”

He smiled back and nodded. “You’re welcome. I’m sorry I’ve been a pain in the ass, but there’s just something about being down here that I can’t quite put my finger on.”

She chuckled. “I know the feeling. It’s very peaceful and calm down here. I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”

From there, they started walking in silence, drawing nearer and nearer towards the Acheron. At some point in time, they began to walk next to the Cocytus, the river that fed into the Acheron. The water wailed beside them, the pitiful cries of souls long past that had become trapped in the water’s rush filling the air. The sounds made shivers run down Bucky’s spine.

But it wasn’t just the noise that made Bucky uneasy, although Hades seemed unaffected, it was the figure standing about a dozen yards away from him and Hades.

The man lurking along the river bank was obviously a naiad. He sported the same blue tint to his skin that all water nymphs did, the water beside him only highlighting the features. His dark hair was coiffed and his jawline was marked with a short stubble that came from not shaving in a few days. His heavyset, brown eyes cut through the air as they stared at him and Hades, filling the air with suffocating intensity. His arms were crossed as his eyes trailed Hades. He watched her, studied her, with his unrelenting and almost predatory gaze.

Bucky wasn’t sure why, but looking at that man watch Hades like she was his made Bucky’s blood boil. For the first time in his life, Bucky wanted to pick a fight with a man—this man. He sneered. “Who’s that?”

“Hmm?” Hades tore her gaze away from the road ahead and followed his line of sight towards the man on the river bank. She stiffened, her lips forming a hard line as she stared at him. “No one,” she murmured, but Bucky wasn’t entirely certain that was the truth.

He could feel his body gravitating towards hers protectively, his shoulders rolling back and his chest puffing out to make him seem more like a threat. He did all in his power to radiate “back off’ vibes, but he wasn’t sure how successful he actually was.

Successful or not, the naiad stayed away, opting to simply watch them as they passed.

They followed the river the rest of the way until it fed into the Acheron before stopping.

Hades stood at the river’s edge, the water just barely missing her toes where they sat. She looked up at Bucky. “Well, I guess this is your stop.”

Bucky didn’t want it to be, but he said, “Yeah, I guess it is.” He looked down with a frown.

As if sensing his dismay, Hades sighed and dug into her pocket. “I cannot believe I am doing this,” she muttered, pulling out a small leather pouch. Bucky watched her with curiosity as she fiddled with the straps and held it out to him. “Here.”

Bucky took the pouch and pulled it open. Inside there lay about two dozen brown seeds, none of which Bucky recognized. His brows furrowed. “What are these?”

“They’re Asphodel seeds,” she answered, shifting her weight. “They’re what I use to get to the Underworld. You plant one, and a hole will open up for about thirty seconds. Jump in, and you’ll pop out here with only a flower in your stead. You’ll be deposited back into the Asphodel Meadows, but you’ll still be down here.”

Bucky stared at her, dumbfounded. “Wait, you mean you’re just giving me a key to the Underworld?”

“Yes I am, but don’t make me change my mind.” She rolled her eyes. “This is simply because I don’t want you hurting yourself trying to find a way in. And just because I gave you a way in doesn’t mean you can come down every day. You only have so many seeds and each is good for a one-time-one-way trip. There are no do-overs nor repeats, you hear?”

“I hear.” He smiled softly down at her. “Thank you, Hades.”

“(y/n).”

He blinked. “Excuse me?”

“My name. It’s (y/n). You keep calling me ‘Hades.’ No doubt you got that from the myths too, but that’s just the name the mortals gave me. (y/n) is my true name.” She shuffled her feet anxiously, but Bucky couldn’t have been happier.

He didn’t know why, and perhaps she didn’t either, but she was opening up to him. It made him happy, and he figured that if she was willing to share something, he should too. “Then my name is Bucky. Only my mother calls me ‘James.’ To everyone else I’m Bucky.”

Her nose crinkled. “Bucky? Where the Hades did they get that from?”

“My middle name: Buchanan. I know it’s a little weird, but it’s the most familiar name to me. James just feels so formal and uptight; I’d much rather be Bucky.”

“Bucky,” she repeated, testing out the syllables on her tongue. “Alright, Bucky it is.” She straightened up and smiled at him, holding out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Bucky. My name is (y/n), goddess of the dead and Queen of the Underworld.”

Bucky took her hand, a matching smile adorning his face. Her hand was cold as death, but he didn’t care. The warm feeling the contact brought to his chest was worth it. “It’s my pleasure, (y/n). I’m Bucky, god of spring. I hope we can get along and be friends.”

“Yes… Friends… I think I could get used to that.” She nodded and squeezed his hand. “Then, until next time.”

“Until then.” Letting go of her hand, he pulled away and mounted the ferry that had come to take him home. His eyes never once left her, not even when the boat pushed off and into the river. He only lost sight of her when he crossed over into the Mortal World and a wall of mist and fog separated them. He sighed as she vanished, turning to the ferryman—Phil Coulson, he thought was his name.

Phil looked down at him sympathetically. “You’re never going to stop coming down, are you?”

“No, I don’t think I am.” Bucky smiled softly up at him. “I guess you’ll be seeing me a bit more often now.”

“Oh joy. Yet another god I have to deal with.” Phil rolled his eyes. “I just hope you’re less of a pain in my ass than the others.”

Bucky chuckled. “I will do my best to be better than them.”

“Then we’ll get along just fine.” Phil smiled as they came to the mortal side of the Acheron and stopped at the bank. It was dawn now, the sun was just barely rising above the horizon.

Bucky frowned in confusion. “Morning already? It was night when I left and I know I wasn’t down there for that long. How is already morning?”

“Time seems to flow faster works in the Underworld,” Phil said as he tied the ferry to the land. “They say that death feels like nothing.” He pulled the ferry to a stop in the Mortal World and turned to Bucky. “You take care of yourself, godling.”

“You too, Phil.” Bucky stepped off the ferry and appeared again just outside the field where Steve and Sam should’ve been sleeping. He had to be quiet. This early in the morning, his friends were easily aroused and he didn’t want them to know he’d left.

Bucky had teleported right behind a tree where he had a full view of the field. Steve and Sam should’ve been sleeping in the middle of the meadow, but there was one body missing. Bucky frowned and crouched down. Where was Steve? Did he get up early? Oh shit, did he notice that Bucky was missing? Bucky held his breath as his eyes scanned the field, searching for his friend desperately.

“Looking for somebody?”

Bucky nearly screamed. He turned around, probably white with fear.

Steve had his hands on his hips and was glowering down at his best friend, his eyes intense and slightly pissed. “Where were you?”

“I… Uh…” Bucky had to lie, and lie now. “I went down the mountain to the village.”

“No, you didn’t. I checked there. I checked the whole island.” Steve’s glare only intensified. “Now, where were you?”

Next 7: Her Thoughts Conflict

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky #bucky x you #bucky x reader #pragma(tic)#hades and persephone #hades & persephone #hades & persephone au #persephone!bucky x hades!reader #greek gods #greek au #greek mythology au #bucky barnes greek au

704 notes · View notes

hecallsmehischild · 3 years ago

Text

I think enough time has passed that I can safely talk about the planner. I was waiting in case it was just a passing manic phase (where I experiment with something and drop it after a couple weeks), but it seems to be here to stay.

I've been binge-listening to Jordan Peterson's Q&A videos because, well, there's a whole lot of practical and therapeutic wisdom there for free. One of his most frequent pieces of advice to people who asked him about organization or dealing with depression or anxiety was to use a calendar or a planner of some sort.

I brushed this idea off for many years. For a few periods of my life I've tried listing out my to-do's on Tumblr or in my journal, and tried using Google Calendar, but none of it worked for me consistently.

And then Dr. Peterson said something I'd never heard before. He said to not use the calendar in a way that you were both tyrant over yourself and slave to yourself. He said to design the sort of day you would actually like to have.

I took this and combined it with a couple other things he mentioned. First was that if you genuinely ask yourself a question and are truly open to the answer, you will often receive information you didn't know before. Second, that promising yourself a limited task and then rewarding yourself for that task is important, and breaking that contract with yourself in ANY WAY (like doing that task for longer than you said, or reneging on the reward) means that you cheated a part of yourself, and that part of yourself will make it much harder to engage in the task NEXT time you try promising yourself a reward because you no longer believe your own promises.

So I asked myself, "What would it take for me to use a planner?" And the answer came back, "Shiny stickers."

I think I used to love stickers. Memory is hazy, but I was raised in Sunday School, and I'm pretty sure stickers were a reward, either there or in daycare. I'd been thinking about them for a long time, actually, but kind of brushed off the thought as too childish to really make a difference. But this time I decided to give it a try.

So I sorted through a whole bunch of planners on Amazon and looked for one that fit my needs. I picked one that didn't have set days (write in your own date at the top) so I didn't feel bad or wasteful about missed/empty pages. I picked one that included starting your day with a thing you're thankful for. I don't use it enough, but there is a water counter on each page which is also useful for someone like me who is in a constant state of forgetful dehydration. I went out and purchased two sheets of colorful star stickers (much like you would get in a day care or Sunday school) and about four sheets of much larger flower/butterfly/unicorn stickers. Over the first couple of months, I established the rules in the front page:

I get one large pretty sticker if I finish my day.

Fun activities may be exchanged for other fun activities, but not eliminated.

Tasks may be swapped between days.

Here's why this solution is working out fabulously for me:

Even if I don't finish everything in my day, the end of every task is rewarded with a shiny star (or smiley face) sticker, so I'm still REWARDED for completing any number of tasks.

If I finish ALL items on my day, then I get a bigger, prettier sticker, and it is an odd little endorphin rush of satisfaction to do so.

I'm a very forgetful person who lets completed tasks float away into a haze. Prior to this, if you asked me, "What did you do today?" I could have been doing chores all day and would not be able to answer you. This led to years of self-talk along the lines of, "Man, I'm so useless. I don't do anything worthwhile." NOW what happens is that I look at my list and know exactly what I did. In fact, if I decide I want to do an extra chore today, I do it, write it down, and immediately sticker it. I haven't heard the "useless" claim in my head for weeks.

Previously, I just had one To-Do list that continued to grow. I'd knock off a few items, but then think of several more that needed doing and the list would grow again. This lends a feeling of futility to me finishing things on the list because the list NEVER ENDS. NOW, I can choose to put some things on tomorrow's list and some things on the list for the next day. If I remember something that needs doing, I can make sure it's written down sometime in the next 2-3 days, but every day's list has an END.

I'm more encouraged to break large, overwhelming-looking tasks into manageable sizes. How much of my large manuscript can I manage editing today? I can manage one chapter today. Can I manage all the small cleaning tasks today, or one of the big ones? All the small ones (individually marked out on the page). Do I have the time/energy to start a new project? Well, I can at least start X amount of it and feel it out, etc.

I'M NOT A TYRANT TO MYSELF. I include things like gaming, reading, making a wire tree, or baking bread on the list. The things I enjoy doing in my spare time, the things that feed my soul? They go on the list as "fun things" and even if I change my mind about WHICH fun thing I want to do, I don't get to eliminate it from the list if I want that big shiny sticker at the end of the day.

If I don't get to finish a task because it was dependent on someone else who didn't show, I don't sticker it, but I make a note by it and don't count that against myself when it comes time to award the big sticker.

I don't set times for myself because I don't find that to be useful, but I can see how it would be useful to some people. I still don't know what my big end goal is, but I get the feeling I'll know it when I see it. I'm still waiting on that. My current goal is to keep things clean and pleasant around here, to have good relations with neighbors and housemates, to finish making the house functional, and to continue personal growth. For now, I think using the schedule is helping me accomplish all of these. And that's really exciting.

(below, this is not the Q&A but it encapsulates his concept of schedules and goals pretty well)

youtube

#rlchild #schedules #planners #jordan peterson #Youtube

2 notes · View notes

ryqoshay · 4 years ago

Text

Tri-Amare: Change Overnight

Primary Pairing Trio: YuuAyuSetsu Words: ~4.6k Rating: T with implied off-screen M activities Time Frame: First year of college? Maybe second? Dunno yet Story Arc: Stand Alone

Author’s Note: Oh gods, why would I think it to be a good idea to add another iron to a fire I’ve been struggling all year to keep hot enough to produce works worthy of posting? I blame the adorableness of the first several episodes of the Nijigasaki anime; the others have been awesome in their own right, but ideas for this started brewing early. So I guess I’m writing a Niji fic now as well.

Ughn… Ayumu felt her nose wrinkle and her brow furrow as a dull ache in her head filled her slowly waking consciousness. Is this what a hangover feels like? Karin and Emma had described the sensations to her a while back after a bunch of former school idol club members had gathered for a celebration of something. For some reason, Ayumu had feared it would be worse, but then again, she hadn’t had all that much to drink last night. At least not as much as the other two…

Last night hadn’t been the first time any of them had consumed alcohol during a celebration, but Ayumu was pretty sure it was the first time they had actually gotten drunk. Just what kind of beer had Yuu brought last night?

The three friends had gathered last night to celebrate Setsuna’s first single as a professional idol reaching Gold status in sales and the top of the Oricon charts for a week. Ayumu had cooked, Yuu had brought drinks and Setsuna was told just to bring herself as she was the one being celebrated. Not surprisingly, she still ended up bringing something anyway, signed CDs for her favorite fans. It all had been a fun night, not all that different from many other nights except the lack of studying and a particular focus on Setsuna and her accomplishment.

Ayumu’s vision was blurry as she opened her eyes, but the pink she saw indicated the duvet was hers so this was her bed. That made sense, as they had gathered in her room, which again, was fairly normal these days as it was typically the cleanest of the three.

Black. And green. Wait… was that…? Ayumu blinked a couple times in an attempt to focus. Sure enough, Yuu was asleep beside her. It wasn’t the first time her childhood friend had shared a bed with her, but Ayumu still felt a bit of heat gather in her cheeks from the proxim… wait… Yuu was closer than normal. A lot closer. So close, in fact, that…

Oh gods…

Ayumu repressed a gasp as she realized that what she was hugging in her arms was not one of her favorite stuffed animals, but instead, Yuu’s arm. Geez, now she would have to figure out how to let go without waking the other girl, lest she be teased about it. Slowly, and ever so gently, Ayumu began the process of detaching herself from Yuu. However, as she did so, she became aware of another sens…

Oh gods…

Why were neither of them wearing pajamas?!

The temperature of Ayumu’s cheeks reached a boiling point. What the…

Breathing. Senses still kicking in, Ayumu realized it wasn’t just Yuu’s and her own breathing she could hear. There was a third. All but forgetting the fact that she was still attached to Yuu, Ayumu pushed up on her shoulder and craned her neck just enough to…

Oh gods…

Setsuna was lying on her side, mirroring Ayumu’s position such that she assumed the part time idol was hugging Yuu’s other arm. And of course, she didn’t appear to be wearing pajamas either.

Heat was now spreading down Ayumu’s neck. What the heck happened last night?!

Ayumu squeezed her eyes shut as she focused her energy toward piercing the veil of fog in her mind and recalling any sort of details from the prior night.

After dinner, the three girls gathered together to watch a recording of one of Setsuna’s performances. Ayumu and Setsuna had leaned against Yuu in the middle to get a better view of Ayumu’s laptop screen. It hadn’t been the first time the three had squeezed together to watch something, usually anime or idol related videos. It was so common, in fact, that the three had developed an unspoken routine to rotate who got to be in the middle.

What was unusual last night was the alcohol and a heightened sense of… something… Ayumu still couldn’t quite put a finger on the exact emotion, though it had probably been a mix. There was the all too familiar feeling she got when Yuu and Setsuna became lost in their own world while she was stuck watching. Throughout the concert, Yuu bounced back and forth between giddy fangirl and keen-eyed but friendly critic while Setsuna lapped up both the praise and insight like a happy puppy.

Thankfully, Ayumu had at least been able to get in a compliment or two of her own and had received in return several of Setsuna’s signature smiles, the kind that could ignite any heart with line of sight. Ayumu often wondered if the idol had any idea as to the effect of those smiles and if she invoked them intentionally or if they were just a natural part of her charm; Ayumu suspected the latter.

Still, something had continued to bother Ayumi. She hated to admit it, but it was likely the fact that Yuu had been completely focused on Setsuna to the point it felt like she had all but forgotten Ayumu was even there. Not that this should have come as any surprise, that was just how Yuu was when she was hyper-focused on one of her interests. Quite frankly, Setsuna wasn’t all that different, and when the two shared a given interest, a geeky feedback loop consumed them and it was often tough to get them back to reality. And idols were one of those shared interests. Not that Ayumu could blame them as she herself remained a fan, particularly of Setsuna.

Ayumu couldn’t deny her jealousy when Setsuna thanked Yuu for her help with composing the single that just charted, particularly because Yuu had responded by pondering the possibility of getting an internship at the same production company, which Setsuna had thought would be a good idea. This of course would mean the two would be working together and likely grow closer, which had reminded Ayumu of the decision she had made and that she still needed to tell the other two.

But then something had changed. The concert came to an end and Yuu had sighed. Then, saying something about nostalgia, she had opened a new tab and pulled up a different idol video. Ayumu had been surprised when she was suddenly watching herself on screen. A younger, school idol version of herself, but still.

Immediately, Setsuna had cooed something about adorableness which Yuu followed up with something about cuteness, or had it been the other way around? Not that it mattered as Ayumu had already lost the battle in keeping down a blush by the time the other two came to an agreement about her being even cuter now. Ayumu had sworn, years ago, that someday she would react better to such compliments, but that day yet to come. Thus, as always, she had found herself a flustered mess as the other two showered her with adoration.

Perhaps it had been the booze. Perhaps it been the desire to react differently. Perhaps it had been just giving in to a long-repressed desire. Perhaps all three… or probably… no, most certainly all three. In any case, the next memory that came to her was that of leaning in and pressing her lips gently against Yuu’s cheek.

Yuu had giggled her name in response and looked like she was going to return the favor when Setsuna had leaned in to plant a kiss on her other cheek. Ayumu’s jealousy flared again, but instead of pushing Setsuna away, she had pulled… and kissed her fully on the lips.

Oh gods… it really had been her that initiated all… that… Ayumu held down an embarrassed whine as memories continued to bubble up from the hazy depths of her mind.

Ayumu had realized what she had done and tried to retreat, but Setsuna had grabbed her shoulders and pulled them both deeper into the kiss. At that point, Yuu said something Ayumu couldn’t fully recall, but it had caught the attention of the other two girls. They broke off their kiss, turned and descended upon her.

At that point, Ayumu had no idea whose hands or lips went where, but she remembered the sensations. And the passion. Yuu’s gasps. Setsuna’s whimpers. And both of their moans. And by the gods she remembered how much she had wanted more.

Ayumu opened her eyes to see her two closest friends still sleeping soundly beside her. More… she still wanted more. Of course she wanted more. Yuu and Setsuna were more than just her best friends, they were the two she loved more than anyone, or anything else. Yuu, her childhood friend, on whom she’d had a crush for years. And Setsuna, who ignited something within both of them and changed the course of their lives before joining them for the ride as if she had always been there.

The three of them were practically inseparable through their second and third years of high school. And now in college, they’d gone so far as finding a dormitory with three available rooms next door to each other to make it that much easier to be together outside of class.

But now things were more complicated. Why did she have to do that? Ayumu chastised herself for her behavior the previous night. She knew better. Love triangles don’t last. They can’t. And they never ended well for the childhood friend.

Ayumu sighed. She thought she had steeled herself to step away and allow Yuu and Setsuna to be a couple. And she was going to do it last night, but Setsuna made her announcement at breakfast and Yuu immediately suggested a celebration that night. There was no way Ayumu was going to be the one to ruin the mood. Even if she wanted them to be happy, she knew her friends would want to console her and that would just bring everyone down.

“Nnn…”

A quite voice dragged Ayumu from her thoughts.

“Ayu… mu?” Yuu murmured, turning unfocused emeralds toward her.

“G-Good morning, Yuu-chan.” Ayumu managed to get out with minimal stuttering.

After Yuu yawned, Ayumu felt movement on her chest. Oh no! She was still holding Yuu’s arm! Yuu was moving it probably with the intent of rubbing her eyes or scratching an itch or stretching or…

“Ayumu?”

Oh gods! What to do? If she let go now, the movement would likely cause the duvet to slide away and reveal… But if she held on, Yuu would probably be able to feel… Oh gods…

“Why are you…”

“Kyaaa!”

A sudden scream came from the other side of Yuu and the duvet was pulled away. Setsuna, in her surprise, had apparently rolled backward off the bed. And taken the covers with her.

The next few minutes were chaos as the three girls scrambled to find covering while avoiding looking at each other.

“Ughnnn…” Yuu was the first to break the silence, which didn’t come as a surprise to Ayumu. “Anyone else have a splitting headache?” She let her head fall back onto the mattress from her position sitting against Ayumu’s bed.

“Mmm…” Came a meek reply from Setsuna who had backed herself into the corner between the wall and the desk. She clutched her knees to her chin as though to make herself as small as possible while not seeming to care what her position was revealing. Not that finding the skirt she had worn last night would have made much difference.

“Mine isn’t all that bad.” Ayumu admitted. “Do either of you want some water?”

“Yes, please.”

“Mmm…”

“Alright.” Ayumu got up to retrieve several bottles of water.

Upon her return, she couldn’t help noticing how cute Yuu looked in her pink shirt. Somehow, in their haste, they had ended up with the other’s top. It wasn’t the first time they had swapped clothing, but it was still rare to see Yuu in pink. Also, it had been a while, so doing so again felt… no, now wasn’t the time for that.

“Here.” She held a bottle out.

“Thanks, Ayumu.” Yuu replied with a tired smile. “You’re the best.”

Geez… she’s not making it any easier, is she…

Ayumu shook that thought away before making her delivery to Setsuna. “Here.”

After a moment, Setsuna looked up, then away, then down, and away again. The blush spreading across her cheeks was hard to miss. Wait, was she… Geez… Yuu-chan’s shirt is short on me…

“A-anyway, drink up, Setsuna-chan.” Ayumu managed to get out as she pulled down the hem. “It should help a little.” That said, she made her way back to where she had been sitting.

Once again, silence descended upon the room.

Not good. Ayumu thought feeling a tension start to rise. Somebody say something. Please. Yuu-chan! You’re better at this! … … Geez…

“So…” Ayumu ventured.

“Mm?” Yuu turned her head toward her.

“Uhm…” Ayumu couldn’t help fidgeting with the hem of her… Yuu’s shirt. “What do we do now?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well… last night…”

“What about it?”

“Well, we…”

“The drinking, or…”

Yuu-chan, you can’t possibly be that dense! “Not the drinking.” Though I am still curious about that beer you brought.

“Oh, well…” Yuu rubbed the back of her neck. “I mean I wish I remembered it in more detail. But I remember feeling really good. And that makes me happy.”

Yuu was happy about it? That’s good right? Or does it further complicate things?

Yuu furrowed her brow. “You two felt good too, right? I hope I wasn’t the only one.”

“Y-Yes.” Oh gods, did it feel good.

“Setsuna-chan?”

The raven-haired girl nodded weakly.

“But honestly, who would have thought Ayumu would be the one to make the first move.”

“Y-Y-Yuu-chan?” Ayumu sputtered, feeling heat explode across her cheeks. Yuu was right, of course, but did she really need to say it out loud?

“And all this time I’d been holding back because I thought you weren’t ready.”

What.

“You were holding back?” Ayumu’s mind reeled at the implications.

“Well, yeah, I mean that kind of stuff is normal, right? Of course I’d want to do that with the ones I love.”

Setsuna’s head snapped up, causing her to wince, but she gritted her teeth through whatever her hangover had just dealt her before opening her eyes again to stare at Yuu.

“Love?” Ayumu ended up being the one to put a voice to what she assumed to be the shared thought of both Setsuna and herself.

“Of course, love.” Yuu’s expression seemed one of either confusion or annoyance, though perhaps a mix of both. “I love you two. I… thought that much was obvious?”

Oh… Oh no… No. No, that’s not fair!

“Ayumu? What’s wrong?”

Of course, now she decides to be perceptive.

Ayumu swallowed hard.

“I’m… sorry…”

Yuu blinked. “Sorry? What are you apologizing for, Ayumu? Because you started…”

“No! The truth is…”

“The truth is…?”

Oh gods, why did it have to be so hard to say? Would it have been easier to say it last night? Before they did… that?

“I’m… planning to move out.”

“What?!” Yuu practically shouted, pushing herself up to stand on her knees, before realizing it was a bad idea. Her face contorted and she fell back down to sit on her feet, but she leaned forward again anyway to continue. “Moving? Ayumu? Why? I thought you liked it here?”

“I do, but…” Say it. Just say it and get it over with. “I’ve decided that you and Setsuna-chan need your space to be a happy couple. I’m just getting in your way.”

Yuu moved her mouth but no sound came out as she stared.

“You’re not in the way, Ayumu-san.”

Both Yuu and Ayumu turned their attention to the girl huddled in the corner who looked to be on the verge of tears.

“You’re not in the way.” Setsuna repeated. “Even someone like me can tell that the two of you have pretty much been a couple since longer than I’ve known you. If anyone is in the way…” she took an uneasy breath “it’s me…”

“Setsuna-chan…” Yuu whined, collapsing back against the side of the bed. Her shoulders slumped with the weight of what her two friends had just revealed.

“I saw it right away, when I first met you.” Setsuna continued. “I saw it, and yet… I still fell for you. Both of you.” She tightened her arms around her legs. “While I was hiding my love of idols and anime from my parents, you two gave me a safe haven to truly be myself. And even when I could be more open at home, I realized how much more fun it was to share my hobbies with friends in person than with faceless avatars on random forums. And somewhere, amid all the time we spent together, I realized I couldn’t get enough, because I had fallen for you. But you two were already together.”

Setsuna paused as though still choosing the best words. “You know, I tried to walk away several times.” She made eye contact with Ayumu. “But you two just kept pulling me back in. And I kept letting you. And now… I guess I just wanted to hope that maybe my triangle would be different.” Her gaze fell back to the floor. “I’m sorry, I should just…” She let go of her knees and seemed to get ready to stand up.

“Wait.” Yuu stated. “Both of you, wait. Please.”

The other two girls turned toward her.

“I think…” She shook her head. “No, I know, I owe the two of you an apology.” She looked back and forth between them a couple times to make sure she had their full attention. “All this time, I’ve been thinking everything was great between us, that we were all happy together. I mean, I thought the main reason we got these dorm rooms, despite them being an extra station away from where we all need to go every day, was so we could live next door to each other and make seeing each other all the time that much easier.

“But I had no idea that either of you felt this way. I didn’t see it at all. So, I’m sorry. I really am. And I don’t care if it sounds selfish, but I don’t want either of you to go. I can tell you right now, losing either of you will not make me happier… Wait, now I’m confused. And maybe it’s just the hangover, but… You both wanted to leave because you loved me and wanted me to be happy with the other… Do you two not love each other?”

“What?” Setsuna seemed taken aback and pushed herself up onto her hands and knees to crawl a meter toward the others. “It’s because I also love Ayumu-san that I wanted her to be happy with Yuu-san! And I didn’t want to get in the way of that.”

Ayumu stared at Setsuna. The same. They really did feel the same. Why hadn’t she noticed it sooner?

“So…” Yuu scratched her head. “Ayumu, you love Setsuna-chan and me.” She pointed at her childhood friend but didn’t wait for an answer before moving on. “Setsuna-chan, you love Ayumu and me. And I love the both of you. We don’t want Ayumu to leave. We don’t want Setsuna to leave… What about if I left?”

“No!” Ayumu and Setsuna said in unison.

Yuu grinned. “Then I guess the only solution is for us all to stay together.”

Was it really that simple? “Can we really do that?” Ayumu couldn’t help asking.

“Why not?” Yuu asked in return. “We’ve pretty much been doing it already up until now; we’re always together, we go on dates constantly, we share cooking responsibilities, we stay over in each other’s rooms. Heck the only things we didn’t do we just did last night. Sure, we just uncovered a snag where you two each thought you needed to leave for the sake of the other two, but now that we’re all on the same page and know that the other two both want us to stay, we should be good, right?”

“It won’t be easy…” Setsuna said quietly.

“Relationships aren’t supposed to be easy.” Yuu countered. “They’re about working together for the common goal of being happy together. Sometimes it feels easy because the rewards are just that great, but other times you have to slog through and remember that the effort is worth it.”

Ayumu blinked. As romantically dense as Yuu often was, it was not completely uncommon for her to catch Ayumu off guard with some poignant bit of insight.

“And I believe you two are worth all the effort I can give.” Yuu flashed a smile. It was the smile Ayumu had loved since childhood, naturally confident and casually reassuring, and it never failed to make her heartrate spike for a moment or two.

As the other two remained quiet, Yuu decided to continue. “And you know, triangles are the strongest shape. That’s why they’re used so often in construction. Graphene is the strongest substance we know because of the triple bonds formed among the carbon atoms. Triangles are also the most stable shape. That’s why they’re used for tripods for cameras and stuff. And…”

Setsuna had started giggling about halfway through Yuu’s geeky rant, but now held up a hand. “Alright, alright, we get it.”

“But I’m serious.” Yuu insisted. “Just think about it, how much we behave like a triangle, how the sides are always supporting each other. Setsuna-chan, your passion keeps Ayumu and I motivated to do our best. And Ayumu, your reliability helps keep Setsuna-chan and I grounded so we don’t lose ourselves to our hobbies.”

“And Yuu-san’s support helps Ayumu-san and I keep our confidence throughout the day.” Setsuna concluded.

“Yeah, something like that.” Yuu nodded.

“Wait…” Ayumu spoke up. “Why do I get the negative one?”

“Negative?” Yuu tilted her head to the side questioningly.

“You two are positives with passion and support, but it sounds like I’m somehow keeping you from having fun?”

“That’s not what I meant at all, Ayumu.” Yuu shook her head. “By reliable and grounded, I meant that you’re kinda like a guide or a navigator or… Oh, I know, it’s like we’re a boat out on the ocean. Setsuna-chan is the engine or propeller that drives us forward and you’re the steering wheel or rudder that keeps us on an even keel. Can’t get to your destination all that well if you’re just drifting aimlessly without power or navigation. I know I’d still be drifting aimlessly through general studies if you two hadn’t been around to help power and navigate my journey through my music course.”

Ayumu smiled as the newer analogy resonated with her. However, “You left yourself out again, Yuu-chan.”

“I did? Oh… uhm, I’m… hrm…”

“Yuu-san is the hull that keeps us afloat.” Setsuna offered.

“The hull?” Yuu scrunched her nose.

“You’re definitely our hull, Yuu-chan.” Ayumu agreed.

“Alright, I suppose maybe I am the hull.” Yuu conceded with a sigh. “Although,” her gaze landed on Ayumu for a moment before settling on Setsuna “I don’t think I’m quite as buoyant as either of you.”

What did she mean by… Ayumu realized where Yuu was looking. “Yuu-chan!” She scolded, feeling herself blush.

Yuu burst out laughing. However, the bout only lasted a moment before setting off lingering hangover effects.

“Setsuna-chan, you should finish buttoning up.” Ayumu said, moving toward the other girl.

“Huh?” Setsuna looked down to find that in her haste to get dressed earlier, she had only secured two buttons on her shirt. Thus, from her position on her hands and knees, she had apparently been providing Yuu with a rather voluptuous view. “Eeeehhh?” She rocked back to sit on her legs and began fumbling with the fasteners.

“Here, let me get that.” Ayumu offered, reaching over the secure the buttons with a dexterity unhindered by a hangover. However, despite the action having begun in good faith, Ayumu found it difficult to resist stealing her own glimpse. Well… maybe if she wasn’t as blatant as Yuu…

“T-Thank you, Ayumu-san.”

“Sorry, Setsuna-chan.” Yuu offered. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you that much.”

“It’s fine…” Setsuna decided after a moment. “It’s not like you didn’t already see it all last night…”

“We’ve also visited hot springs together like a dozen or so times.” Yuu pointed out. “Anyway, still have any doubts, Ayumu?”

Did she still have doubts? She knew Yuu was right when she said that relationships were not easy, and whatever difficulties two might have, three would have to face that much more. But also, as Yuu had said, she was willing to do that work. And there was no doubt in her mind that Yuu and Setsuna would put forth the same effort. Because they all wanted the same thing, to be happy together.

Ayumu shook her head. “No. I’m just… really happy right now.”

“Good. And I’m happy as…” Yuu was interrupted by a yawn. “Ughn… either of you two remember what time we went to sleep last night? It feels like we woke up too early or something.” She yawned again. “Well, good thing it’s the weekend so I can take a nap.” She turned and started climbing onto Ayumu’s bed. “Either of you want to join me?”

“Do you think another hour will help with my headache?” Setsuna asked, crawling toward the bed.

“It should.” Ayumu replied, following the others. “Huh? Yuu-chan?” She found herself blocked from taking her former position as Yuu had already made it to the wall side of the bed.

With only a smile and a gentle touch on the arm, Yuu guided Ayumu down between herself and Setsuna. Oh, so sleeping arrangements were going to rotate like when they watched anime and idol videos together. She dismissed a thought that such a thing may not be best for one’s sleep cycle as she decided the three of them could discuss it if it became an issue, or they may just figure it out intuitively, like they did with their anime viewing.

Emerald eyes entered her field of vision. “I love you, Ayumu.” Yuu said quietly before pressing her lips gently against hers. Then as quickly as she appeared, she retreated.

Her mind barely had time to register the event before eyes of cendrée appeared. “I love you too, Ayumu-san.” Setsuna said in a similar volume before also pressing her lips to hers.

Ayumu stared upward in a surprisingly satisfying stupor as the other two exchanged affections above her. No flare of jealousy or laments of being left out disturbed her as she watched contently. She basked in the warmth as Yuu and Setsuna settled down on either side of her, taking her arms into theirs. She was happy. Very happy. And she realized she should probably tell them that.

“I love you two, Yuu-chan, Setsuna-chan.” Ayumu murmured.

Two pairs of eyes snapped open to stare at her. Was it really that surprising? Oh… wait… was that the first time she had said that to them? Certainly, it wasn’t the first time she had thought it, but… oh dear… Perhaps she should apolo…

Two smiles creased two sets of lips. Likely since they had already given voice to their feelings, the other two remained quiet. Setsuna tightened her embrace for a moment before nuzzling into Ayumu’s shoulder. For her part, Yuu shifted her hold so she could slide her hand down into Ayumu’s and intertwined their fingers.

No. No apology was necessary. They knew. And they accepted and loved Ayumu for who she was, even if this was the first time she had said as such in return for all the times they had told her.

Ayumu closed her eyes, took a deep breath and released it slowly. There would be plenty of time for her to give more voice to her feelings later. For now, it was time to relax and enjoy a peaceful slumber, snuggled between the two girls she loved.

This triangle would definitely be different.

Author’s Note Continued in Followup Post

#YuuAyuSetsu #Takasaki Yuu #Yuki Setsuna #Uehara Ayumu #Tri-Amare #Love Live Nijigasaki #no idea if that's the right ship tag...#may have to change it later #or add alternate versions #like with yohariko and yoshiriko #to which i should probably add yohariri at some point...

22 notes · View notes

chappedandfadedvds · 4 years ago

Text

Nov 1st, Sunday 09:11

Rain pounding against the window. A slow steady rythm. And a hazy greyish tint lay over the serene room of the awoken boy in bed, buried under thick covers. He blinked his heavy eyes open, not yet having caught enough sleep to feel the energy to do anything more than that.

It took him a moment to recall the date, sunday. Given it was still pretty dark inside his room, he guessed it to be fairly early. Or maybe the clouds outside his window just didnt allow for more light. And he would be lying if he didn’t appreciate hiding in a halfshadow, as he looked into the calm sleeping face of Lucas.

Jens didn’t remember them falling asleep that close to each other, after they all had basically stumbled tired and worn out into bed last night. Time and curfew forgotten and all of them deciding on a spontaneous sleep over. He barely had been able to catch a glimpse of Lucas pulling off his socks and jeans, before crawling into bed, while Jens got his sister her beloved pillow to cuddle.

There was some rustling coming from the foot of the bed, on the floor, on three matresses from Lotte and their mom, Milan, Sander and Robbe had made themselves comfortable. He listened carefully in order to pick out if someone else was awake like him, but figured that they in fact were still fast asleep, leaving Jens to appreciate that this moment was his only.

It came daringly close to how he felt waking up next to Jana, without the low guilt of cheating on Britt, that had broken them up in the end. Instead there was a different feeling of sadness settling in his heart. It wasn’t really sadness though, it was something else, but then it wasn’t and Jens couldn’t find a word to settle on to describe it.

He watched the face of Lucas. He shouldn’t find a boy’s face as attractive as he did. Not that he couldn’t appreciate a beautiful man, but it didn’t came with a desire to touch or kiss said man. Jens really tried hard to think back to an instance in his life, where he might have pushed these thoughts away in favor for falling for girls only. Some sort of internalised fear of feelings for people of his own sex. But there weren’t any and it drove him crazy. It meant it shouldn’t be any different to waking up to all his other male friends. And yet...

Jens closed his eyes and imagined all the mornings he woke up next to Robbe, they were the closest friends for years, constantly touching and hugging, did he ever felt attracted to him in that way? He thought his friend looked good, yes. And that he felt some love for him, yes. Would he want to kiss Robbe? Probably not. Would he have kissed Robbe back if his friend would have tried to? Maybe, but than no, no he didn’t think so? It was confusing to reconstruct old memories.

As Jens pulled himself out of his thoughts with a pained expression on his face, he found the worried blue eyes of Lucas watching him thoughtfully, biting his bottom lip as he so often did in contemplation.

„Nightmare?“ Came the faint whisper and than an attentive hand from under the blanket to brush away a strand of hair on his forhead.

Jens fortunetely remembered that breathing was a crucial part of living and tried to do just that, before shaking his head slightly.

„Good.“ Lucas mouthed with a vague smile on his lips not yet convinced, his hand sinking onto the pillow between their faces, next to Jens’s. So why the fuck wouldn’t he move his fingers slightly over. If Lucas would have been a girl, he wouldn’t have thought twice about it. He probably would have taken him out on wendsday already. The first step is the hardest. Jens’s mind provided this stupid universally applicable line, that sounded cheesy and overused and nonethelss true.

He was a coward he knew that, but even stretching his hand out, so that their plams flat on the soft fabric below would cause their little fingers to touch, seemed like a huge accomplishment right now. They weren’t even close to hold hands. This as well may just have been a sheer accident.

Lucas’s open blue eyes darted surprised towards their touching fingers and back up at Jens searching for his gaze, with a question between them, both didn’t dare to ask. Not even in the comfort of an early quiet morning. Rather Lucas lifted his little finger to intertwine them, swallowing nervously, as he did so with caution. He was scared, Jens knew, because he was just as much afraid of crossing a line. The beating of his heart, and the blood rushing through his body swallowed up any sound of the rain, he had heard so clearly a minute ago.

There was just them, and them almost holding hands.

Jens curved his finger around Lucas’s, putting some pressure in it, just to reassure the boy that he wants this too. And it seemed to work, as the tension in their bodies diminished, leaving them to study each other faces in a comfortable silence.

There didn’t need to be words to understand each other in this second. Jens knew that it would leave him restless once they would leave this moment behind them. He knew he would have to seriously start question his sexuality, and everything that would probably happen from here on out. But for now he could push the panic in the back of his mind off to deal with later.

Good luck to future him.

„Ow. Fuck“ Jens cursed under his breath wincing, not wishing to wake anybody else, but it did catapult both of them back into the reality of this room they shared with four other people, oblivious to this promising discovery between them.

Lucas’s gleeful snort let Jens send him a pissed off look, before he turned his head as far behind him as he could without letting go of the merest gentle touch between them. He saw his sister with his phone in his hand watching him innocently. As if she hadn’t dug her tiny sharp knee into his back just now.

„You are awake. Can we have breakfast?“ Lotte quietly asked, blinking up at him, knowing she already had won this. Apparently she also was convinced she had woken him up and that was just fine with Jens. He didn’t need his sister to belabour him with questions. Especially if he didn’t really know the answers to them himself.

„How late is it?“ He whispered and was promptly presented with his bright lit up phone screen.

9:43

He guessed it was actually an approbiate time to have breakfast and nodded.

„Alright, let’s go.“ The words barely left his lips, when his sister was sitting up and out of his bed, tip toeing around his room to get out, without stepping and waking the three boys on the floor.

Jens looked back at Lucas who smiled and whispered delighted: „I’m actually getting quite hungry myself, so I think Lotte has great timing. And after the pumpkin soup from last night, I can only imagine what feast we are gonna have today.“

„You are an idiot, you know that.“

„Yes.“ Lucas affirmed happily smiling away. This was unfair. Now Jens felt the explicit need to actually dish out a great breakfast and impress this dumb dutch boy.

„Fine.“ Jens agreed, feeling weird breaking off the shared bare minimum of human contact, as he withdrew his hand in favor of getting up. As did Lucas behind him, stretching and about to collect his things from the floor. When he was hit by a pair of grey sweats, that Jens had thrown in his general direction, putting a pair on himself. He shrugged at Lucas, trying for a nonchalant look, while moving over to his room door, that stood slightly open from Lotte’s escape.

On the floor was Milan rolled up into a ball of a body and a blanket, only his head sticking out. And right beside him Robbe tangled around Sander, who didn’t seemed to mind loosing all his senses in his body apparently. Or maybe he was just different, because Jens could very well recall all the times his arms and legs had fallen asleep under the weight of a girl half on top of him.

Jens smiled at them regardless, maybe one day he could have that too again. He kinda missed it.

„You coming?“ He heard Lucas whisper at him from the doorway, looking very pretty with his untidy bed hair and in Jens’s sweats. He seemed to be just as happy watching the couple to Jens’s feet as he waited for Jens to follow him down to the kitchen.

The were almost there when Jens felt Lucas taking his hand, squeezing it before letting go again, to help Lotte, who was about to climb on the counter to get some tea cups out.

„Wait, wait! I can do that. I get the plates and stuff and you can set the table instead, okay?“

Jens stood there for the moment it took him to work through his storm of emotions again. Why did he feel just so much these days, be it good or bad? This wasn’t normal. But he seemed to feel every emotion just double as much as usual. Everything triggered a whirlwind of thoughts and it scared him. What if this would never stop?

He swallowed it down, settling for a smile instead and went over to join them.

„Say, can Mister Chef here also do some american pancakes for his dutch starving guest?“

„You bet.“ He smirked at the challenging amused look Lucas threw him over the shoulder. Playfully smacking the boy’s head, Jens shoved him away from the oven, in order to prepare the best breakfast the six had in their lives.

Well at least as great as their fridge and pantry allowed for.

#week 2 #wtfock #skam #vds #jens stoffels #lucas van der heijden #chapped and faded #blissful mornings

22 notes · View notes

hyperpsychomaniac · 4 years ago

Text

The Other Side of Me - Chapter 5

Darkwing Duck Fanfiction (90s Series)

The Negaverse Launchpad arrives in Saint Canard and announces his intention to take down Darkwing Duck in preparation for Negaduck’s arrival. Darkwing refuses to take the threat seriously, so Launchpad decides to take on his stronger, crazier, and downright dangerous counterpart himself.

Read Chapter 1 first.

***

Launchpad woke to the faint sound of drizzle outside. Morning light, hazy and subdued as it forced its way through the cloud layer above, seeped around the edges of the living room curtains. Launchpad carefully sat up, but the movement still made him draw in a quick breath. He pushed his fingers through the feathers on his chest and gingerly felt each of his ribs. None were broken. But it felt like the other Launchpad had managed to ram his boot into each and every one.

There were clean clothes on the coffee table and Launchpad pulled them on, thankful his jacket zipped up and he didn’t have to try get it over his head. Then he headed for the bathroom. He washed his face carefully, working around the plaster Gosalyn had stuck over his beak. He slowed as he finished then looked at his battered face staring back at him in the mirror. His shoulders slumped.

“Launchpad, what the heck were you thinking? Idiot.” His double wasn’t him. He was meaner, crazier. Stronger. He couldn’t be talked out of betraying Negaduck. But Launchpad had sold out the location of Darkwing Tower in a heartbeat.

Launchpad straightened. “Oh no, DW.” He rushed out of the bathroom. He’d heard action in the kitchen. He threw open the kitchen door and it flung back into the wall behind it with a sharp whack.

Gosalyn stood on a stool in front of the stove, her face screwed up in concentration as she fought to stir a pot of porridge.

“Gosalyn, where’s your dad?”

“Launchpad!” Gosalyn knocked the edge of the pot and left it wobbling precariously for a split second as she leapt off the stool. She rushed over and threw her arms around Launchpad’s middle.

Launchpad grunted, but returned the hug on instinct. “Gos, your dad…”

“It’s okay. He got the message. He came back.”

“Is he…”

“Now, sit down! I’m making you breakfast.” Gosalyn rushed back to the pot of porridge and turned down the heat just in time to stop it boiling over.

Launchpad felt some of the tension leave his shoulders. Drake was home; he’d have a chance to talk to him. They’d be able to fix this. He’d probably get mad. Darkwing Tower would be compromised, but at least he was safe. Launchpad put a hand to his head and wandered over to the fridge. He paused, then opened the freezer instead and pulled out a bag of frozen peas.

“Launchpad! This is breakfast porridge. Not soup. You can’t put peas in here. Besides, you’re not the one cooking. Sit down!”

“It’s not for the soup… porridge…” Launchpad slumped into a chair at the kitchen table and pressed the bag to his swollen eye. The cold stung but it was a welcome distraction from the ache he felt practically everywhere else.

Gosalyn finished the porridge and put the pot on the table, along with a couple of bowls and some spoons.

“Thanks, Gos. But I’m not sure I can stomach food right now.”

“Well, that’s a first. You want some orange juice?”

Launchpad nodded. The juice she brought him tasted like citrus, and copper mixed with antiseptic. Launchpad hiccupped as it hit the back of his throat. He groaned and shifted the bag of peas onto his beak. He shouldn’t have to worry about juice hurting him. It wasn’t fair.

“Aw, Launchpad.”

“I’m okay.” Everything was going to taste weird until he got all the gunk out of his throat anyway, so he may as well push his way through the juice.

Gosalyn spooned a huge helping of porridge into her own bowl, but she kept glancing across at Launchpad. He wasn’t sure if she really was that hungry, or if she was doing something to avoid looking at him. He reached out and brushed his knuckles on her sleeve. “Hey, kiddo? Thanks.”

Gosalyn started scraping down the sides of the pot with far too much gusto. “It’s just juice,” she mumbled. “You bought it.”

“No, I mean for last night. Thanks for… for sitting up with me.” Launchpad swallowed and dropped his gaze to his orange juice. “I really needed someone. Thanks for just, you know, being there for me.”

Gosalyn dropped the pot to the table with a clang and threw her arms around Launchpad’s neck. She buried her face against his shoulder. “Launchpad, you really scared me.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Gosalyn sniffed. “It’s not your fault. But don’t do something like… whatever you went and did again, okay? I know you and Dad had a fight. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care. You’re not just our sidekick, you’re part of this family too.”

Launchpad gulped at the lump in this throat.

“Aw, Launchpad.”

Launchpad wiped at his eyes. “I’m fine. It’s just this juice. It tastes really awful.”

“There’s nothing wrong with the juice. I’m just glad your home safe.”

“I’m glad your Dad is home safe. When I… aw, it’s doesn’t matter. When do you think he’ll be up? I need to talk to him.”

“Dad went back out.”

Launchpad’s stomach dropped. “What? When… where?”

“To find jerkface! After what he did to you…” Gosalyn pounded a fist on the table. “If I didn’t have to stay here and look after you, I would’ve gone myself and punched him in the face!”

Launchpad’s chair skittered back from the table. He began to pace. “No… I… we told him he had to come home.” He spun back around. “What did you put in the message?”

“I put what I said I would. And you agreed. That you were hurt, and he had to come home.”

“Then why’d you let him go back out?”

Gosalyn jabbed a finger at him. “Hey! You didn’t exactly give me much information. All you said was that you’d screwed up.”

Launchpad put a hand to his face.

“Launchpad,” said Gosalyn, her voice softening. “What happened?”

“I… I told Launchpad where to find Darkwing Tower.” Saying it out loud made his stomach knot up again. Launchpad kept his hand up, hiding his eyes. He could not bring himself to pull it away and see the look of disappointment that was surely on Gosalyn’s face. “I betrayed DW.”

A few cruelly long seconds passed, and then Gosalyn finally spoke. “Jerkface beat you up. It’s okay if you were scared and you didn’t know what else to do.”

Launchpad huffed, and gestured to his face. “This? This is nothing. Launchpad could’ve tossed me around that hanger all night and I wouldn’t have done a thing to put DW in danger. But I… I just didn’t have any choice… I…”

“Launchpad! Just tell me what happened!”

“He was going to come here!” Launchpad gulped deep breaths. It made his chest ache. “He was going to come here. He’d almost figured out our house must’ve been in the same place as Negaduck’s.” He shrugged. “So, I told him where Darkwing Tower was. Figured it I made it easy for him he wouldn’t keep thinking about the house.”

Gosalyn’s jaw dropped. “You tricked him?”

“Yeah, I guess. Wish I’d been smart enough to think of something that wouldn’t put DW in danger though.”

“You should’ve told me this last night.”

“I know.” Launchpad’s shoulders slumped. “I just… I just couldn’t.”

Gosalyn took his hands. “It’s okay. But Dad sounded like he was going to go looking for jerkface. He may not have even gone to Darkwing Tower yet.”

“We need to check.” Launchpad grabbed the remaining juice and downed it. He winced. “Man, that’s foul.” Then he headed for the living room. Gosalyn was right on his tail. “Gos, wait, you need to stay here.”

“Why?!”

“Because… because you can’t actually beat me in an arm wrestle.”

Gosalyn glared at him and folded her arms.

“And I couldn’t beat Launchpad, so, you know.” Launchpad squeezed her shoulder. “You know one day you’ll be big enough to have my back. And your dad’s. We just need to keep you safe until then.”

“I suppose.”

“I’ll be careful. I promise.”

***

Darkwing brough the Ratcatcher to a halt inside Darkwing Tower. He dismounted and flung off his helmet, which had done absolutely nothing to keep him dry, and hung his head. He was tired, disheartened, and soggy. And he had accomplished nothing. Maybe it had been too much to hope that he would simply run into the Negaverse Launchpad. It looked like he would have to talk to Launchpad to find out where he had found his doppelganger. And apologise. After what his double, and after what Darkwing’s own inability to have a little trust or at least simply listen to his friend, had done, Darkwing hoped his sidekick was up to both.

The clatter of a tool brought Darkwing’s head up. “Launchpad?” he asked automatically. He wandered over to the Thunderquack. “Huh. Something must’ve slipped.” He frowned. “That’s weird. I thought this thing got a lot more trashed. LP must’ve fixed most of it before he got the crazy idea to hunt down that lunatic.”

“One of us fixed it anyway.”

Darkwing spun around at the familiar voice. His hands balled into fists at his side. And stayed there. It should’ve been easy to lay into the low life who had left Launchpad battered and bruised on Drake’s living room sofa. But the duck that leered back at him was still Launchpad, and Darkwing suddenly found he couldn’t quite bring himself to tear into him. So much for retribution. “You…” Darkwing stabbed a finger at the other Launchpad. “How dare you beat up my sidekick. What did he ever do to you?”

Launchpad stood with his hands behind his back. The corner of his beak turned up into a grin. “Apart from insult me? You know he tried to give me one of his stupid aeroplanes? That’s not how you win a fight. And I don’t need a bloody aeroplane! If I wanted one, I wouldn’t have burned all of mine, would I? He thought that would get me to betray Negaduck. What a loser.”

Oh, Launchpad. Of all the crazy things. His sidekick hadn’t gone to fight his double. “He tried to help you? That’s why you beat him up?”

Launchpad shrugged. “Well, that’s how it started. Then I figured I could get him to talk.” He laughed. It was the same dorky laugh as his Launchpad, and it made Darkwing shudder. “He gave up the location of this place in a heartbeat.”

“Because,” said Darkwing, his hands shaking, “you beat the crap out of him.”

“He gave it up because he’s a coward. No backbone, and no follow through. And he thinks I need help?”

“He thinks I need help,” Darkwing parroted back. “Cut the crap. Launchpad took you on, by himself. Which don’t get me wrong, was super dumb. But it sure doesn’t make him a coward. Meanwhile, you’ve just been running around destroying things, making threats, and beating the crap out of the one person who might have cut you a bit of slack. Launchpad is twice the duck you are!”

Launchpad’s maniac grin had been slowly draining from his face as Darkwing spoke. “Don’t you get it?” he exploded. “He failed you. He was supposed to have your back and he sold you out.”

Darkwing shrugged. “Yeah, well, I haven’t really had his back tonight either.”

“What the hell is wrong with you? Negaduck would never… argh! I don’t need anyone to feel sorry for me, far less me… him. I don’t need anyone’s sympathy!”

“Fine by me pal.”

Launchpad drew in deep breaths, steadily bringing the rage which had overtaken him back under control. He glared at Darkwing, and then that grin came back to his face. “You can taunt me all you like. But you know all its gonna accomplish? Once I’ve got McQuack crying in a heap on the floor, cradling your burnt and blackened body in his arms, I’ll just beat him up some more.”

Darkwing threw himself at the Negaverse Launchpad. Launchpad swung out his arm, the heavy wrench he’d concealed behind his back swinging out in a wide arc. It slammed into Darkwing’s skull. The world went dark.

***

Rain seeped in and left puddles under the high stone windows. Darkwing Tower seemed empty. And quiet. The two ducks Launchpad had expected to see, one he had hoped for, and the other dreaded, were not there. But something else was missing.

“Where’s the Thunderquack?” said a voice behind him.

Launchpad yelped and whirled around. Then grunted and put a hand to his chest. Gosalyn blinked up at him. “Aw, Gos,” he said, a little thinly, “I thought I told you to stay home?”

“I know. But then I realised you said jerkface beat you, and you might be able to beat me, but you can’t beat him, so that means you still need back up. I wasn’t going to fight him though.” She scuffed a shoe across the floor. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you jump. You okay?”

Launchpad carefully let out the breath he’d been holding and let his chest relax. “Yeah. He’s not here anyway. Neither is DW. And you’re right; the Thunderquack’s gone.”

Gosalyn wandered over to Launchpad’s toolbox, which sat where he usually parked the Thunderquack. “Are you sure you just didn’t misplace it?”

“I’m not that absent minded. Not today anyway. It was right here, practically in pieces. Launchpad’s taken it. He’s way too obsessed with planes. Heh. Can’t believe I’d ever say that.”

“I thought you said he burnt his?”

“Yeah, because Negaduck made him. That’s one of the reasons I wanted to help him. I figured if I offered him one of my planes, so he’d have something he obviously really cares about again… but then he just flipped.” Launchpad swallowed hard and rubbed at his chest. “I mean, DW can be difficult. But I can’t believe how Negaduck’s treated Launchpad. I was sure if I gave him another option, he’d take it. But I don’t think he could.”

Gosalyn dug amongst Launchpad’s tools, scattering bolts across the floor. “It still doesn’t excuse what he did to you.”

Launchpad watched the bolts roll every which way. He didn’t have the energy to complain about the mess Gosalyn was making, or question why. “I know. But, Gos, sometimes people get hurt and then they try and hurt other people and… well, it’s not going to help anyone by hurting him back. He needs help, and it doesn’t look like anyone else is here for him.”

Gosalyn didn’t reply but instead tipped half his socket set across the floor. Then she came up with a piece of paper in her hands.

“Maybe he decided he did want an aeroplane, and just took the Thunderquack? Which wasn’t really what I was offering, and DW’s going to be even madder at me. But I guess it’s better than him trying to hurt him.”

“Launchpad…” Gosalyn shoved the paper into his hands.

The writing was terrible, but legible. Familiar, but not. “I’m going to burn everything you care about. Come try stop me.” Launchpad read out.

“He wants to burn your planes now too? Is that why he took the Thunderquack?”

Launchpad’s blood ran cold. “DW.”

“Wait, he’s going to burn Dad?”

The Ratcatcher had been left behind. Launchpad threw his leg over the bike, wincing, but gritted his teeth and ignored the strain the movement caused.

Gosalyn leapt into the sidecar.

“Gos…”

“I’m coming with you! We have to stop jerkface. And look what happened last time you went after him alone. And it’s Dad…”

Launchpad didn’t have the time to argue with her. “You stay back, okay? I let anything happened to you and DW will do worse to me than Launchpad did.”

“Deal.”

***

The rain held up, for now. The Ratcatcher’s tyres sliced through puddles of water. It took every ounce of Launchpad’s willpower to drive slow enough they didn’t risk spinning out on wet corners. He brought them skittering to a halt outside the hanger and dismounted with a grimace. Gosalyn sat up in the sidecar.

“Gosalyn, no. You really have to stay put this time.”

“But, Launchpad. Dad!”

Launchpad gently put his hand on her shoulder until she sat back down. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure he’s safe.”

“He’s not the only one I’m worried about. You already know you can’t fight jerkface.”

“I’m not planning to.”

“Launchpad, he’s not you!”

Launchpad faced the hanger and squared his shoulders. “No, he’s not. But you need to stay out here, call for help if we need it. But don’t worry. I’m getting DW out of this.”

Launchpad cautiously pushed open the hanger’s big double doors. There was the Thunderquack. She was parked inside, up the back. “DW?” It was almost as quiet as Darkwing Tower had been. The rest of his planes were still uncovered but the ones parked out at the edges of the hanger had been moved in closer. They were all crowded up around the Thunderquack, like some kid had lined up his collection of toys for display. “Launchpad?” He sniffed the air. He could smell petrol. More than the faint aroma that was usually left around a hanger. “Oh, man.”

Something scraped from on top of the Thunderquack. Then: “If you don’t get me off of this right now you…”

“DW!” Launchpad ran around the planes, to where he’d heard his friend’s voice. There, on top of the Thunderquack, Darkwing was duct taped right above the canopy. And he was not happy about it.

Darkwing tugged and strained. He wrenched his head around, and his gaze fell on Launchpad. He slumped in his bonds. “Launchpad, you’re okay.”

“More or less. What are you doing up there?”

Darkwing rolled his eyes. “LP, I don’t want to be up here. Your buddy jumped me in Darkwing Tower.”

Launchpad moved to the front of the plane and put his hands up on the nose. Usually it wouldn’t be too much effort for him to climb up. But even stretching that far made his chest ache. He strained for a brief moment, but then grunted and let his arms fall back to his sides. He hung his head. “I know. I… I told Launchpad where it was. I’m sorry.”

“Aw, LP. This isn’t your fault. I should’ve listened to you about that sociopath; that’s the reason I’m stuck up here. But maybe that’s something we can talk about later? Can you make it up here?”

“Give me a second.”

“Oh, come on!” A fist pounded on the fractured railing above. A piece of timber splintered and fell to the floor. “Guess I’m going to have to get this show on the road myself.” The Negaverse Launchpad pulled out a lighter and ignited it with a grin.

Darkwing gulped. “Um, LP? Just to put this in context: he has completely soaked these planes in petrol.”

“Launchpad! Don’t.”

Launchpad let the lighter flick off. “I won’t. Not yet. So, what do you say; you ready for another round? I’ll give you another chance to beat me. I’ll even go bare fisted this time, so it’s fair.”

Darkwing snorted. “Fair? Are you kidding? He can’t fight you in the condition he’s in. Guess we know who the real coward is.”

“I’m not a pussy!”

Launchpad gritted his teeth. “DW, I don’t need to fight him.”

“Wait, you’re just going to let me burn him?” Launchpad ignited the lighter again. “Wow. And I thought you had no fight when you betrayed him.”

The words knotted Launchpad’s guts up again. He knew he was being toyed with. The taunts, the beating. But he’d also seen that vulnerable look on his double’s face. The aggression was a defence. He couldn’t let DW get killed. And he wouldn’t, even if he had to fight again, even with how much his body already hurt. But he could see right through this guy, and he wouldn’t back down because of the threats, or because he feared getting beat up again. Launchpad raised his voice: “My offer still stands!”

The Negaverse Launchpad lowered the lighter; the grin slipped from his face. The lighter flicked itself off. He didn’t seem to notice. “What?”

“I’ll help you fix up one of these planes. Or if you don’t want that, anything else that will actually help…”

“You pushed me too far last time! Do it again and all this goes up in flames.”

Launchpad shook his head. “You won’t burn these planes. Not again.”

“Again…”

“Look at them, Launchpad!” Launchpad jabbed a finger at the carefully arranged line up. “You could’ve hacked half of these into a nice pile of kindling. You didn’t. You’ve got them all out on display.”

The Negaverse Launchpad swallowed hard. Then he laughed, but his voice trembled. “Can you believe this, Darkwing? I beat the crap out of him, and he’s still plying this line. He really is stupid, huh? And this is the guy you’re counting on to not let you fry to a crisp.”

Darkwing looked his sidekick right in the eye as he replied. “I don’t know, jerkface. I think he might just have your number. I trust him.”

Something rose up inside Launchpad’s chest at Darkwing’s words, and it almost made him forget the pain in his ribs. He straightened up and squared his shoulders. “What do you say? Come down, and we’ll talk.”

The Negaverse Launchpad glared at Darkwing. His brow creased, and he shook his head. “What… what the hell is wrong with you? This isn’t how it’s supposed to go. You’re not supposed to… he screwed up. How can you just trust him? He didn’t even have to do anything!”

Launchpad felt the tension start to leave his shoulders. He’d been right about Launchpad. And Darkwing had his back again. “Launchpad, Negaduck isn’t here. He can’t make you burn these planes. I’m not going to put you in a spot where you have to either. I’m giving you an out, buddy. Just take it!”

“Don’t you get it? He’s not Darkwing. He won’t just forgive me if I screw up again.” The Negaverse Launchpad flicked on the lighter and dropped it onto the planes below.

Next chapter

7 notes · View notes

solecize · 5 years ago

Photo

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. you never forget your first love. sometimes you don’t want to. other times, you can’t. 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. yuta x reader 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄. fluff / angst / high school au 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. mature language, death, mentions of a car accident, violence and verbal abuse 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. 7.7k words 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒. i finished this at 5am so its a little wonky and definitely not proofread

FOURTEEN.

the sun barely peaked out from the far horizon of the osaka skyline and the sweet smell of morning dew filled your lungs. a heavy backpack weighing down your shoulders, you hated walking to school in the mornings. clunk. clunk. clunk. the sound of your shoes drumming against the pavement guiding your path became a steady rhythm and your concerns of the day to come drowned within them; a physics test in the morning, a presentation at the end of the day, and the fact that you forgot to pack yourself a lunch. again. these thoughts settled into a roaming and wandering pace as you made your way to school.

wisps of golden rays broke though and in between branches and houses that you strolled past. specifically, the one house that you continuously walked back and forth in front of. ‘come on,’ you thought, waiting for the right moment. this routine that you’d been practicing since elementary school occurred at the almost exact same time every single time.

then, you heard the front door click. with that, you rushed back a couple steps and ignored the army marching through your chest. punctual as ever, yuta was ready. thankfully for you, that meant that you could ‘casually’ run into him on your way to school and walk together. that was the only thing you liked about walking in the mornings.

“oh, hey. good morning.” yuta bore a small smile, as he looked at you over his shoulder and locked the front door. the boy had yet to caught on to the fact that your presence was suspiciously always on time for him to exit his house.

your expression lit up when the eyes of the boy who you so deeply admired met yours. “good morning, yuta.” your smile leapt to your eyes.

as he did every morning, he jogged his way over to where you were and began walking at your side. the mere presence of him just an elbow’s touch away caused the bottom of your stomach to not just do backflips, but an entire gymnastic routine. somehow, you managed to catch your breath.

SIXTEEN.

“and then, he went all ‘bang!’” your hands waved wildly, the words were overflowing from your lips and the rush of adrenaline still fresh in your veins.

miho watched you with a single raised eyebrow, half used to your antics, but was still bewildered at your longstanding crush on soccer star nakamoto yuta. even under the dim streetlights of that hazy and humid september evening, the rogue flush glowing at the apples of your cheeks was too obvious. she simply giggled and looped her arm around yours.

the narrow streets were littered with clusters of students from your school, laughter and chatter being heard from a mile away. the joyous buzz in the air was due to the soccer game that just occurred against the team’s arch rivals, which was won in a last minute dramatic fashion. the saviour of the night? he was walking towards you.

wait, what?

although surrounded by other team members clad in navy blue tracksuits, yuta easily stood out. everyone and anyone bombarded the guy as soon as he came within sight, wanting to congratulate and praise him for his talent and efforts. for some reason, though, there was a different gleam of purpose in his bright eyes.

your heartbeat quickened, but your steady walking pace remained. this was mostly due to miho’s pointed look, as she saw the way you nearly froze up at the sight of yuta—as you always did. up until this point, you weren’t sure what got to you. his charming smile, his kind heart, the way he poured passion into everything he did . . .you were a goner. however, you also had a pile of homework waiting for you when you got home and couldn’t slow down for him, who probably had a celebration to get to.

still, that didn’t change the fact that yuta was making a beeline in your direction. you thought you were imagining it, until you heard him call your name. then, a second time. at this point, you turned around without even realizing that you’d lost control of your body.

“oof—” he ran straight into you the moment you turned around. you wobbled for a second, but yuta’s strong arms caught you almost instantly.

his eyes widened. “oh, shit, i’m so sorry—”

“—no, it’s, um, it’s okay, really!” you exclaimed and wanted to shrivel up when you realized how high your voice became. miho snickered behind you, but you ignored it.

a grin stretched across yuta’s face and the butterflies in your stomach awoke. something about his presence, his spirit lit a spark inside of you. he absentmindedly ran a hand through his hair and opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it and proceeded to play with the words on the tip of his tongue. you weren’t sure what was going on.

yuta asked, “did you enjoy the game?” at this point, he was full on ignoring the passerbys, save for the polite head nod for the congratulations he was receiving. all of his attention was on you.

“yeah, of course,” you nodded, maybe a little too vigorously. “you were really great out there. i mean it.”

“couldn’t have done it without my trusted medic.”

FIFTEEN.

you weren’t sure how exactly you were coaxed into this, but it seemed to have happened in the blink of an eye. everyone in your study group slowly began to flow out of yuta’s home, until it was just the two of you and studying wasn’t the main priority anymore. you weren’t in any rush to go home, considering your home was just a five minute walk away, and, of course, not wanting to pass up the opportunity to spend time with yuta.

“i don’t think i’m exactly fit for this,” you told him nervously, as he lead you onto the empty street by hand.

the evening went from homework to goofing around on youtube. the two of you had been exchanging music and favourite artists, which finally came down to stumbling across soccer clips. yuta then had the brilliant idea of teaching you soccer after you reminded him how much you loathed sports. for whatever reason, that brought you here.

yuta scoffed. “trust me, you’ll get the hang of it easily.”

the breeze blew softly, a relief on a hot summer night like this one. you sighed at the humidity and watched yuta. he dropped the soccer ball onto the ground and it hummed against the concrete, as he started to dribble it.

“you gotta pass with the inside of your foot,” he explained, though you were a little too mesmerized by his gorgeous calf muscles. “like this!” yuta demonstrated and passed the ball over to you like second nature.

somehow, you managed to stop the ball. it had to be either luck or the fear that it was going to crash into one of mrs. nakamoto’s potted plants. your eyes widened in shock. considering you could barely walk without tripping, this was an accomplishment.

he beamed. “great, now pass it over to me.”

what was intended to be a soft, gentle pass ended up being a hard kick to the, well, danger zone. it all happened so fast and before you knew it, the ball hit him with a loud smack! and yuta was trying to resist doubling over. his face contorted and body folded over in swallowed down pain, wincing.

you gasped and rushed over, endless apologies coming out. “oh my god, ohmygod, ohmy—”

“it’s okay, it’s okay!” yuta was gasping for air and you wrapped your arm around his shoulders, trying to help him stand up.

despite being in obvious distress, yuta still managed to laugh upon seeing your reaction. he didn’t realize how much he liked being aided to until you went out of your way to help him back inside and give him an ice pack. he didn’t realize how much he liked teaching his favourite thing to another person until he forced you outside and taught the basics of soccer to your clumsy ass.

most importantly, he didn’t realize how much he could like a person until you.

SIXTEEN.

you rolled your eyes, but you were, without a doubt, dying inside knowing that he remembered that day. “ha. hilarious.”

others continued to weave around you two and you were certain that it looked a little odd, probably annoying, that you were just standing in the middle of a crowded sidewalk. even miho had whispered that she would catch up with you later and snuck away. however, yuta didn’t budge.

“can i walk you home? it’s getting dark and i’m sure you can handle yourself, but just to be extra safe. . .” yuta offered and this took you by surprise.

“you guys just won the most important game of the season, isn’t there some sort of team celebration that you have to get to?” you raised your eyebrows, but allowed him to lead the way to your neighbourhood.

he shrugged. “everyone’s tired. besides, i wanted to, erm, talk to you.”

looking behind you, it seemed that the boys from the team were indeed dispersing, but strangely enough, were all looking in your direction. as if being caught red handed in a robbery, they all froze on the spot when they met your eyes and turned the other way immediately. yuta noticed this and grumbled something under his breath, but you didn’t catch it.

“about. . .?”

“uh, well, we’ve been friends for a while now, right?” yuta scratched the back of his neck with a tension in his movement.

shit. he found out about your crush on him. surely, he just wanted to let you down easy or something. you chomped down hard, teeth grinding against each other in pure agony. this was not happening. you managed to nod your head slowly.

he continued, “well, there’s something i’ve been meaning to tell you.” his eyes, full of fire, wandered all over, except to meet yours. “ask you, er, actually.”

you blinked, trying your best to ignore the bubble of hope forming in your chest. “what do you mean?” because there was no way he was talking about what you’d been dreaming of for god knows how long.

he slowed down in his tracks and for a few moments, there was a calm.

“i like you.” yuta finally spat out, the wind knocked out of him and you nearly fell over attempting to halt in your route. “and i wanted to ask if you’d go out with me.”

cashmere moonlight illuminated the aged roads of osaka where joy danced in the air—the joy of victory, youth, and, now, first love. time seemed to suspend just for a few moments and it tasted like fireworks. a round of whoops emerged from where yuta left him teammates behind, but it was all white noise to you.

everything was blurry and unimportant, except for him.

SEVENTEEN.

“why did we invite these two?” miho groaned, watching the two of you from the other side of the room.

it hadn’t even been a minute since entering the karaoke lounge, but you and yuta were already cuddled up in the corner of one of the couches. he had pulled you onto his lap and you let out a loud giggle at the contact. snaking his arms around your waist, you knew that you were not leaving this place for the rest of the night.

yuta raised an eyebrow. “that’s awfully rude. we’re your friends.” his signature cheeky smile formed and you couldn’t help but press a kiss on his cheek.

“you guys have been on this lovey-dovey honeymoon shit for, like, a year now,” one of yuta’s teammates groaned.

“sucks for you guys.” you grinned in response and began flipping through one of the song books.

it was the middle of the summer going into your last year of high school and you were certain of it—you didn’t have a single care in the world. it was the last summer of pure freedom and everyone felt it all around them. it was a ticking time bomb, a countdown that result in late nights out with all of your friends. tonight it brought you to karaoke.

yuta tucked a piece of stray hair behind your ear. “i like this colour on you.” you’d just dyed your hair a few shades lighter than your natural shade a couple of nights ago as apart of a dare. of course, you did it, but the more you looked at it, the worse it seemed to look.

“really?” you raised an eyebrow at him.

“duh. you look good in everything.”

you brought your face close to his ear, so that the conversation could only be heard between the two of you. “you should go sing something.”

“uh, what?” his face scrunched up jokingly, but you gave him a knowing eye.

it started off one day when you were chilling alone, just watching mamma mia on his couch. for whatever reason, yuta knew enough of the songs to be able to sing along. that’s when you discovered his gift of possibly the sweetest, smoothest voice you’ve ever heard. angelic, you insisted, but he was always too shy and didn’t acknowledge it.

since then, you’ve paid extra attention when you catch him singing under his breath, humming, or even just whistling. everyone told him how good he was, but he didn’t even consider it. nevertheless, it was the same glimmer in yuta’s eyes when he sang his favourite song as the one when he was on the field.

suddenly, the weight beneath you shifted. yuta had pushed you off his lap effortlessly, taking the song book. this forced you to stand up on your feet and left you confused.

he beckoned his friend that held the microphones over and took them from him. “what are you doing?” you asked.

“let’s sing a duet, then.” at this, all of your friends cheered in response to this unusual action from yuta. he’d always be the one to just sit in the corner with his drink, hype up everyone else, and maybe give some background vocals in the form of yelling.

“oh, really?” you laughed, not believing what was happening.

“what? i like trying new things with you,” yuta declared with a grin and passed a microphone to you, which you barely caught. “you better keep up.”

the night unfolded just like that, with nineties throwback jams and laughter all around. miho captured the memory on her polaroid and you kept several of these pictures to stow away, probably in some shoebox under your bed. however, for now, you lived these pictures. you lived them with yuta, always pushing each other to your boundaries and always with the best of hearts.

SEVENTEEN.

it started with that one time at the amusement park when you nearly lost your shit at the top of the ferris wheel. then, he noticed the way you squirmed trying to walk across the metal grates downtown where you could see just how deep it went past those holes. you never wanted to join your friends when they would have lunch on the school rooftop.

you had a fear of heights.

one promise was made clear between the two of you at the start of your senior year in high school: to make the best out of it. yuta figured that this meant pushing you to face what scared you the most. this was the first of them.

with a sigh, you suddenly found your shoes to be the most interesting thing in the world. “i really don’t know about this.”

“we took a three hour bus ride to get here and you’re not sure about this?” yuta folded his arms across his chest. “you’re the one that suggested we all go to the beach.”

you gnawed on your bottom lip. “well, yeah, but i meant to go swimming or tan or play volleyball! this—” you beckoned down to the aquamarine ocean line, “—is not what i meant, yuta!”

kicking a piece of rock, it flew right off the edge and deep down into the shore below. you watched it and the distance it made, which only caused you to stiffen up even further. the cliff had to be at least twenty meters high and despite the beautiful crystal waters, it felt like diving into a black hole. your eyes remained glued to the mocha dirt between your feet, as the sight only pumped your blood faster and faster.

yuta chuckled softly and you smacked his arm. “this isn’t funny!”

raising his hands up in defense, he approached you slowly. “come on. you’re the bravest girl i know.” your boyfriend tried to tip your chin up, but you tore in away. “you’ve been telling me for years about how you’ve wanted to get over this.”

“yeah, but we all know i’m a pussy ass bitch.”

he rolled his eyes, but wrapped his arms around you from behind and kissed your temple. “come on. if you do it, i’ll buy you food.”

you scoffed. “you think i’m that easily bought?”

even though he didn’t say a word, the look that yuta gave you was enough to indicate his agreement. you looked between him and the seemingly endless jump that awaited you just a few steps away. squinting at the sun, you let out a loud breath.

“well?” yuta asked hopefully.

you rubbed the ring on your left hand, a habit formed in the confrontation with your nerves, and braced yourself. in a twist of fate, you found yourself walking a few steps back and for a second, he thought that you were leaving. then, yuta saw the look on your face and grinned. it was enough for him to know. squeezing your eyes shut, you tried to steady yourself.

“you have to jump right after me, okay?!” you didn’t mean to yell, but everything began to muffle except for the pounding in your ears.

yuta said, “you got it, baby.” he began clapping and whooping, building up your energy at your side.

it was like flying. you ran and ran until your entire body was wrapped around blankets of air and freedom. you finally opened your eyes, wide and bright, to the world around you. it was pure lunacy. it must’ve lasted forever, because when you emerged from the sharp waters and gasping for air, yuta was already right beside you.

a boil of hysteria formed at the base of your throat. one giggle lead to another, until you were having a full on fest of laughter. you couldn’t stop and watching you, yuta couldn’t help but start laughing, too. you flung your arms around him in the tightest embrace, still shaking from the nerves, but in the best way possible. you planted a deep kiss on his lips and he groaned.

“i guess that wasn’t so—” you were cut off by yuta’s lips, capturing yours once again.

SEVENTEEN.

everyone knew you and yuta to be the couple that was late to almost everything. however, most were not aware of the fact that it was almost strictly because of him. sometimes, you had to step back and marvel at just how good he was at wasting time when getting ready for something.

“oh my god, is it possible to take any longer than this?” you yelled at him from his bedroom balcony, as you absentmindedly scrolled through your phone. at the same time, you ignored the angry messages from your friends, wondering where the two of you were.

the sound of the blow dryer finally came to a stop. “relax, there’s no need to rush.”

“it’s the last school festival we’re ever gonna have and you don’t wanna rush?” you quipped back.

this happened every time, so you weren’t nearly as irritated as you should’ve been. this was considering you woke up extra early to pick out your outfit and actually attempt real makeup on your face. it made you a little nervous, considering you made enough effort to brush your hair and throw on the nicest skirt you owned, albeit after digging through your closet for who knows how long. you arrived at yuta’s almost an hour before you were supposed to leave and without surprise, he was still in bed.

since this happened every time, you had one simple method that worked every time. all it took was one iced cube for nakamoto yuta, the mighty star player of your school’s soccer team, to squeal like a four year old and scramble out of bed. soon enough, he was in the shower and belting to chris brown at the top of his lungs.

he definitely didn’t get out soon enough.

you got up to bang on his bathroom door, but before you could do so, it swung open. yuta was fully dressed in casual attire of an oversized hoodie, a jean jacket, and black sweats. a baseball cap nestled the top of his pristine hair and you immediately swiped it off.

“hey—” yuta began to protest, but then his eyes scanned your appearance and his jaw was left hanging.

clearly, you didn’t notice, because you continued ranting. “if you took all that time to blow dry your hair, why the hell did you put on a hat?”

“you look. . .”

“we are so late and—”

he clamped a hand over your mouth, only getting a further rise out of you. “can you just listen to me?” but, this didn’t stop your attempts and yelling through his hand.

yuta didn’t let go until you had the bright idea to lick his hand, at which he let out a chorus of “yuck, ew, gross” and spun around to wash his hands immediately. you snickered at his reaction, but were still heated.

he gave you a dirty look. “damn, a guy can’t tell his girl that she looks beautiful?”

“not when the guy is the reason for them being an hour and a half late!” you cried. jaw set, you had to admit that this would normally get your heart pounding, but it was going to be your fist’s turn if he didn’t hurry. long gone were the days where you couldn’t speak the truth to yuta and now, you’d cuss him out at any given time.

he chuckled and placed a hand on your cheek. “well, you do. i don’t know what you did, but you look good, all dressed up and stuff.”

you let him bring you into a gentle embrace and melted into him almost instantaneously. “yeah, yeah, whatever,” you said into his chest. “by the way, i really enjoyed the concert you put on there.”

yuta’s ears turned slightly red, but he laughed it off. “thanks. i’ve been practicing.” he looked over and noticed the balcony door open, the curtains blowly softly against the wall. “were you just on my balcony?”

“yeah, it’s way too hot in here.”

“willingly? alone? at a high height?” he dramatically gaped and you hit his arm.

you replied, “ergh, yes, okay? let’s move on now.” you couldn’t bite back the small grin that was forming on your face and there was no way he didn’t notice it.

the two of you eventually raced out the front door and began a rock paper scissors competition to decide who would have to face an angry miho, who’d been waiting for you two for hours.

EIGHTEEN.

you shared all of the most painful moments of your life with yuta. he was there for you after every test you failed, every sad movie that pulled at your heartstrings, and every time you plucked your eyebrows. just thinking about him, you could easily remember the way his arms felt like home, when nothing else in the world seemed to matter.

“she’s going to be okay, come on. . .” he murmured into your ear, as he stroked your hair. “please, just breathe, baby.”

“miho was on her way to see me! she shouldn’t have—” you couldn’t finish the sentence, a strangled sob choking your words to bits.

yuta rocked you back and forth in his arms as you tried to look for some sort of light, but the bland eggshell walls of the hospital corridor provided nothing to comfort you. there was no one else waiting for miho except you. you were all she had.

that day, she ended up surviving the fatal car accident. you were certain that you would have gone mad if it weren’t for yuta’s warm arms and the sweet nothings he assured into your being. he was your strength that day.

likewise, yuta shared all the most painful moments of his life with you. you were there for him after every injury he suffered on the field, after every screaming match with his hotheaded father, and every lost game that he took. you somehow made him laugh on his way to the infirmary. you found every way to cheer him up after a bad game. most of all, you were the one who cradled him and let him sob into your chest in the rare moments when he would lose all control after a fight with his dad.

it was about one in the morning when you awoke in a startle. the sound of a pile of your textbooks toppling over from your desk created what seemed to be an earthquake at an ungodly hour. you awoke to your heart beating wildly, unsure of what to expect.

thankfully, it was just your idiot boyfriend, who had no idea how to climb into a room through a window. unsure of what was going on, your first instinct to whisper yell at him about whatever the hell he was doing and the fact that your parents could have woken up, but then you saw. you saw his dead eyes and his slumped over figure.

“did he. . .”

you hadn’t seen yuta in about a week, ever since his father was hospitalized. he didn’t elaborate on any details when he explained the situation to you, but you knew it was fatal. he didn’t even want you visiting.

“yeah. he went real quick and just like that,” yuta took in a deep breath, “it was over.”

you immediately sat up on your bed and made room for him, to which he immediately occupied. all you wanted to do was reach out and touch him, to enclasp his hardened joints and cold skin. looking over at him, though, it seemed like the hardest thing to do. you’d never seen yuta so empty before.

you cleared your throat, while eyeing your bedroom door to ensure all lights remained off. “shouldn’t you be with your mom and sister?”

“i dropped them off at home so they could sleep. i wanted to call you, but,” yuta shrugged, “i’m here now.”

after that, yuta didn’t talk for the rest of the night. though he stared blankly at your popcorn ceiling as if he was in another world, you kept him grounded. you talked about anything and anything to distract him. the soccer game on television that evening, the new, hideous curtains that your mother put in the living room, how you just learned to do some basic sewing, the neighbourhood gossip. you talked until your throat strained and begged for you to give up. but, you didn’t give up until the first streams of ginger orange and rose emerged from the horizon beyond your tiny window.

by then, he coasted into a deep sleep into the crook of your neck and one arm slung over your torso. you buried your face in his hair, hand clutched in his. pain always hurt, but neither of you ever had to hurt alone.

EIGHTEEN.

you shared all of the most painful moments of your life with yuta, but you never anticipated the day when one of those moments would be because of him.

“what do you mean?” you felt like you’d just been punched in the gut, your lips parting in shock.

yuta pushed his tongue to the inside of his cheek and set down his soda on the rooftop ledge. “i mean, i’m leaving. i’m going to accept their offer of admission.” his eyes were downcast and he felt like he was holding onto all of the weight in the world.

“but-but, i—” you started, but couldn’t find the words.

nothing seemed real in that moment. you shook your head and turned away, finding the door to be the only option. however, watching even your smallest of movements, yuta knew you too well and easily predicted what you were going to do next.

he grabbed your arm before you could walk away. “can we just talk about this first?”

“like the way you talked to me about applying to schools overseas?” you shot, though your voice was quieter than usual.

like every other couple in the graduating class, your future was up in the air. it was floating and it seem like every time to made a move to reach out and grab for it, all that slipped through your fingers was pure nothingness. void. you didn’t want to think about it, instead opting to live in the moment.

however, with the changing leaves and the aforementioned ticking time bomb became the background music to your every day life. there always seemed to be something that popped out of nowhere to remind you of what you dreaded—the fact that you were running out of time.

yuta ran a hand through his hair. “it wasn’t the plan, i just kinda did it on a whim and i never expected. . .” his shoulders slumped.

it was then you realized that yuta was no longer living by the same hour.

although you avoided talking about it, you and yuta were with each other every step of the way since the year began. you thought the happy ending plan you concocted in your plan was officially set in motion and absolutely nothing could go wrong.

wrong.

though you knew deep inside that this wasn’t a bad thing, that you shouldn’t be upset at yuta, there was a nagging feeling at the pit of your stomach. every bad scenario that could possibly be generated suddenly flashed before your very eyes and at that, your entire body stiffened.

your heart ached and you couldn’t help but step forward to place a hand on his chest. “listen. i’m happy for you and i’m not trying to hurt your feelings, but,” you shook your head, “that shit really hurt mine.”

before he could say anything, you took off the sweater he’d given to just a few minutes earlier when the two of you arrived. the cold breeze felt like knives against your flesh, but you ignored it. for your entire life, you knew that you were as fragile as glass. however, you never truly felt it up until this moment.

“come on, it’s not that serious,” yuta said, eyes widened.

you replied, “it doesn’t matter. this is, um, just a lot to take in.” shaking your head, you broke free of his grasp.

just as you approached the stairs to return back to the school building, you hear yuta’s voice from behind you.

“i’m not letting this be the end.”

EIGHTEEN.

when the guests began pouring out of your front door, you took this as an opportunity to sneak out the back and around to escape the dreadful atmosphere. this wasn’t to say that you weren’t grateful for the careful orchestration done to ensure a successful surprise party, you were really blown away by the plan made by your family and miho. walking into your living room to be met with a crowd of people to celebration your recent acceptance to university was the highlight of your day and the second last thing you expected.

the last thing you expected had followed you out your back door, having kept a close eye on you since the start of the party. yuta had not spoken to you in a week, not since the reveal on the school rooftop. you stated that you needed space and he respected that, but there was no way he wasn’t going to celebrate your massive academic accomplishments, especially when he was the rock to keep you stable all of this years.

plus, miho would’ve killed him.

“hey, hey, hey,” yuta’s unmistakable voice chimed in behind you, “where are you going?”

“i needed some air,” you said, without turning around.

he jogged up to you and began walking by your side. you didn’t look at him. you weren’t sure why.

yuta said, “it’s crazy how fast everything’s going now,” he shoved his hands into his pockets. “it seems like yesterday we were just fourteen and screwing around, doing whatever without caring about tomorrow.”

“. . .yeah. i think i’m going to go crazy thinking about what’s going to happen tomorrow, or the day after.” the confession tasted bitter and it showed crystal clear in your features. “like, obviously, the party was great and all but it was just another reminder of all this shit building up.”

“you have no reason to worry,” yuta scoffed. “you have so much to look forward to. i know you aren’t afraid to be on your own next year.”

“but, that’s the thing, yuta!” you bellowed. “i’m not afraid, i’m terrified. i wasn’t going be afraid because i wasn’t going to be on my own, i was supposed to have you.” it took all of your strength to even attempt to stop your voice from shaking.

like you’d always done, you found yourself immediately melting back into his arms, like they were your rightful place. “believe it or not, i am so fucking ecstatic for you. i just—”

“—wish we wouldn’t have to go our own ways?” yuta finished for you, a sad smile playing on his lips.

you nodded. “it’s stupid, but you’ve been by my side forever. and i want the best for you and trust me, i know this school is perfect for you.”

“you looked into it?”

“of course i did,” you managed to laugh. “and it checks off every single box for your dream school.”

the conversation was a volcano, waiting to erupt in the shadows for quite some time. thankfully, it wasn’t destructive. the two of you sat down on the edge of the sidewalk, still not letting go of each other. similar to leisurely flowing lava, it was warm and of beauty unlike any other.

yuta cupped your cheek and you swore you would have given anything to freeze those few seconds of time to keep. “you know, no matter what happens, you’ll always have my heart.”

that night, yuta took you to the same arcade he brought you to on your first date at fifteen. you shared laughter and exchanged music like you had for many years. the fear settling deep into both of your bodies seemed to fade for that one night. because, although he wanted to be strong and reject it, yuta was as scared as you were.

“you aren’t making the wrong decision,” you assured him, over and over again.

just like that, the magma begun to settle. the fog started to clear, but you weren’t sure if whatever hid behind it all was what you wanted. regardless, for those few seconds in time, everything seemed to be okay.

EIGHTEEN.

"stop crying, loser.”

“i am not crying!” you insisted with a laugh, as you hastily swiped at the tears brimming in your eyes. “i am totally fine, this is totally happening.”

standing in the middle of the parking lot of the ceremony hall, you looked a little ridiculous. you’d long given up on wearing heels and opted to go barefoot, your makeup was smeared, and you already ripped your gown by accident when you stepped on it going down the stairs. yuta didn’t see you that way, though.

he saw you for what you were: the smart, strong, gorgeous girl that he’d been in love with for the past four years of his life. the first girl he’d ever loved. he’d gone on believing that you were going to be the last, too, but that dream was shattered into pieces now. somehow, he accepted this with a smile.

“i guess this is goodbye,” he jokingly extended his hand, to which you slapped it out of the way and nearly jumped on him for a bone crushing hug. yuta laughed and hugged you back just as tight, beginning to twirl you around and ignored the way his cap toppled off his head in the process.

all of a sudden, you heard a loud honk. he let go of you and you noticed that your family was waiting for you to get in the car. you sighed. his eyes met yours and the silence was enough.

he pressed a kiss against your cheek, one last time. “bye, angel.”

TWENTY FIVE.

nothing was the same. your parents had long moved out of your childhood home and to the other side of the city. you lost contact with all of your high school friends and as far as you knew, they’d all moved to different points of the country. upon returning to your hometown, there was nothing left for you anymore.

dropping the last of your cardboard boxes, thankfully not one of the ones marked with ‘fragile,’ miho let out a loud huff. “finally! i thought this shit would never end,” she grumbled.

you kicked the box aside to the back wall of you brand new apartment. “thanks for helping me out.”

she was the last of your old friends to remain in osaka, having built her life here after graduation as a police officer. in fact, miho was the last of your old friends to stick by your side ever since. some were appalled at the turn of events that occurred in your life and ostracized you. others simply faded away naturally. miho was the first of them to enter your life and you were in pure relief when she promised that she wouldn’t leave your side.

miho was the one you dragged into your washroom to take the five tests to see if they were really accurate. when yuta was long gone, she was your rock. when you had to go through school with a young kid, she was your source of encouragement through strings of letters, phone calls, and text messages.

she was the last constant in your life in the ‘before’ and the ‘after.’

“duh, do you know how excited i am for you to be back?!” miho squealed, hugging you for what seemed to be the hundredth time since you arrived back in town just a year before.

you beamed. “i just. . .can’t believe it.” looking out the window, you realized that you left so much of yourself when you left at eighteen. now that you were back, you weren’t sure if you wanted to pick up where you left off.

your oldest friend nodded in understanding. suddenly, there was a loud chime and miho checked her phone immediately, frowning at her screen. she shoved in back into her purse and sighed.

“i really don’t want to leave you alone, but i have to go,” she said.

you nodded in understanding. “it’s okay. go. i have to go grocery shopping for me and the little dude over there anyway,” you replied. “i’ll catch up with you tomorrow for lunch?”

the small boy sitting at your newly moved couch looked up at the mention of himself. he’d been occupied the entire time with power rangers reruns and you walked over to him, scooping him up in a cuddle. yosuke was at the age where he whined at every form of physical affection from his mother, even if they were the best of friends like the two of you were.

“of course,” miho said and followed you. she cooed at yosuke, who’s eyes were still glued to the tablet screen in his hands. taking his chubby cheeks between her manicured fingers and pinching them, the kid let out a loud groan and you gave him a pointed look.

you cleared your throat. “say bye to auntie miho.”

“bye auntie miho,” yosuke mumbled with a grimace painted across his face.

standing up, you began to walk miho to the door. she slipped on her heels, ranting about the warm weather in november, but to be honest, you were mostly tuning her out in favour of just appreciating miho’s presence in the first place. just like old times.

you opened the door for her and waved her goodbye. however, just as you were about to close it, the door beside your apartment opened. whether it was out of curiosity or some cruel trick by destiny, you look out to greet your neighbour.

what came next couldn’t have happened in your wildest dreams.

everything was the same. sure, he grew out his hair a little bit longer, but yuta looked exactly the same in that dusty parking lot, when the two of you were eighteen. a lollipop dangled from his mouth, like before, and his surroundings were drowned out by earphones plugged into both of his ears. he still wore his late father’s titanium watch, no matter how aged it was. yuta’s eyes met yours and you were a goner, like you always were. it was more than a punch to the gut, but a full on blow to the face and a kick to the shins. your entire body felt like it’d just been battered. you couldn’t breathe.

for half a second, he glanced away. then, the nooks and crannies of his memories that hadn’t been touched in years became triggered. yuta looked up and he could’ve sworn, everything in the world stopped. his mouth ran dry and the vulnerability that settled in his bones felt as though he’d been caught in the middle of a crime.

yuta wanted to say your name, to see if it was really you, but nothing seemed to croak out.

“this can’t be real.” you didn’t know you were saying this out loud, but the words just spilled out of your mouth. you felt like a wax candle, eventually vanishing the hotter your flame grew. this couldn’t be happening.

he sputtered, “i can’t—”

you suddenly became aware of your appearance and wanted to just hide away. with your hair twisted into a half-assed bun and clad in an old t-shirt and denim overalls, you looked more like the visiting plumber than a tenant.

“—believe it,” you finished for him, trying to let the oxygen enter your body. “um, sorry, i just moved in, so i’m not really fit to be seen by actual humans.”

neither of you were sure how to go about this, both wanting to go in for a hug, but hesitated. after a few awkward attempts, yuta eventually went ‘fuck it’ and just completely squashing you into an embrace. you weren’t sure how long the hug lasted for. maybe an hour. a couple minute. a few seconds. but even just a quarter of that was enough for you. the smell of musk and teakwood filled your senses and you were lost again, forgetting about what this reunion meant for you.

“you look great.” yuta just saw you the way he’d always remembered you. “you still look the same.” he chuckled, taken aback and blown away.

you scrunched your nose. “do i?” there was no way he was being serious.

“just like the night of the spring festival.”

that was what took you by surprise, the fact that he remembered that night, much less what you looked like. still, the whole situation was not fully processed in your mind. you shook your head, blinking your doubts away.

you tried to form your words. “what, erm, are you doing here?” the awkward laugh that came out of your mouth was enough to say it all. “i mean, last i heard, you became a big shot, working for some company in europe.”

“i moved back to japan a few weeks ago,” yuta revealed, shoving his hands into his pockets. “i wanted to work back home.” though the smile on his face was small, it was enough to bring you back to the bliss of your relationship with him.

none of this was real.

you were dizzy. seeing yuta felt like seeing a ghost from your past. this wasn’t supposed to be what moving back to osaka was about. seven years away meant seven years of growth and even harder, moving on. you finally snapped yourself out of the fragrant, intoxicating daze that was nakamoto yuta and realized you had to confront the reality.

“what—” you started,

he shrugged and leaned against his door frame. “why travel the world when you feel like you’re, well, missing something?” yuta asked. “i mean, i had a lot going for me. but, something felt wrong.”

this was just honesty from yuta. after years away from his roots, there had to be a reason why he traced his footprints back to home. maybe it was after pleading to the stars for an answer, but standing in front of you seemed like the twist of fate he’d been seeking.

“nothing beats home and family, right?”

it was too late. from the ringing in your ears, you didn’t hear the tiny footsteps plopping right behind you on your new, carpeted floors. you didn’t hear the distant video music come to an abrupt pause. you didn’t hear any of it and then, you felt a tug at your pant leg.

“i’m hungry,” yosuke yawned, looking up at you through his long eyelashes.

all the colour in yuta’s face drained. you rubbed the ring on your left hand and tore your gaze away from yuta and instead focused on your son. “okay, yosuke, go back inside and i’ll make you lunch, honey.” you forced a smile, but yosuke just gave a confused side glance at yuta. nonetheless, he retreated back inside.

yuta always imagined what it would be like if he crossed paths with you again. in most of these fantasies, you’d fall right back into his arms. he rarely considered the idea that you would have someone else. he didn’t even entertain the notion at all, the dead clutch of hope still remaining within him.

“yosuke?” he asked slowly, trying to memorize the details of the little boy’s face and all he saw were your features.

it was the hardest thing for you to say.

“yeah. my son.”

𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐂.

i like you (exo remake) - weathercast severely - ft island milk - f(x) at the end - chungha you were beautiful - day6

#nct fanfic #neowritingsnet #kwritersworldnet #ncitynetwork #yuta fanfic #cznnet #yuta x reader #nct x reader #nct imagine #nct scenarios #yuta imagine #NCT #yuta scenarios #nct fic #nct au #yuta au

161 notes · View notes

sweater-daddiesdumbdork · 4 years ago

Note

Can I have V with either Taylor or Loki or Ransom or Chris or Curtis or Andy or Sam or Dean or Bucky or ....you get the picture 😂 I love you 💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

A/N- Thank you for being so patient babes, I hope I did him justice. Love you always. Also, you showed me some pictures that made me think of this the other day and for the life of me I can't find them. But your man was in ALL BLACK. and that did things to me. FML.

Warnings- Smut. There you go, that's all you get.

Fingers closing around the champagne flute, your other hand toyed with the pearls hanging gently around your neck, smooth little beads Under your fingertips that you played with when you were studying something.

This time you were studying the room, looking to see if the current gathering of guests were yet bubbly tipsy enough for you and Loki to slip away unnoticed. No, not you and Loki... You and Conrad. That was the code name you gave Loki for this mission, you couldn't help but think of your reasoning for Conrad at the debriefing earlier today.

“Why you so insistent on Conrad?” Steve asked as he crossed out the name on the paperwork and wrote in the one you just had to have.

You grin at Loki, who gives you an amused smile, answering for you. “Because she happened to see Kong, and got it in her head I looked like the man playing Conrad.” Lokis fingers danced in the small of your back, and you gave an affirming nod. Steve still looks lost, but not going to question it, Tony though, he’a laughing in the background. “Shes worst then Peter with her movies.”

“Your playing with your pearls Dear.” A smooth voice brought you out of the memory, Loki sliding up beside you. Crisp black suit, well fitted made him take your breath away every time, and you couldn't help but tug on those pearls of yours and bite your lip, giving an up and down glance. “What is on your mind?” His hand circled possessively around your hip, and sipped from his own champagne glass, the bubbles making him wrinkle the tip of his nose a moment. Eyes sharp as ever scanned the room, and it seemed everyone had made their way onto the dance floor.

“That you look dashing in that suit Conrad.” you tease, your fingers dancing up his chest and tilting up to nip at his chin a bit. In your ear, a familiar crackling noise penetrates the band playing.

Coast is clear for you two to extract the information. Sam's voice giving a semi gentle reminder of why the two of you are actually here. Loki glances around rather quickly, then you two start playing and teasing going up the grand staircase. Appearing as a couple lovers in a champagne drunken tease. Catching each other up against the banister for long drawn out kisses and you giggling against his lips while taking his hand. By all appearances, you two were just looking for a room.

Which you two were, a specific room.

In the midst of you two putting on a show, people sweeping around the two of you in a hurry to avoid disrupting you, Loki was pressed up behind you, kissing on your neck while you were looking at room numbers. Bingo... “Its over here.” You muttering to him and his head lifts, a subtle flick of his wrist disabled the room's security, and you pick at the lock. His hand closes around your wrist and draws you back to him, chuckling softly. “Let me Love.” a simple brush of his hand clicked the lock and you rolled your eyes at him, cautiously entering the dark office room. “You couldn't just do that before Loki?” and the man grinned as he secured the door shut.

“You didn't even give me the chance to.” He reached into his suit and took out a flash drive, handing it to you. Keeping the room dark to not draw attention, you circle the desk and get the computer turned on. Behind you was floor to ceiling windows, showing the city far below in a twinkle of traffic headlights and late-night office workers in the surrounding towers. Further off the ocean still had a tinge of purple on the horizon, night swiftly swallowing the last bit of light. Slipping in the flash drive, it showed a good 10 mins to get all the files downloaded and secured. Ten Minutes of waiting and not getting caught. You push away from the desk and step up beside where Loki is admiring the city below.

“Beautiful isn't it?” You step up closer to the glass to look down at the street 20 floors below you, people just living there lives, unaware of all that was going on around them at any given moment. Apparently, you fell into that lull, cause you never noticed the God move up behind you till his hands slid along the silken covered thighs, his long fingers bunching into your dress. “Beautiful? Although quite lovely yes, there really is only one beautiful one here tonight.” His voice a dark huskier tone, and he pressed you forward against the glass, nipping on the back of your neck while using his knee to part your thighs for him.

You reach up to shut off the com in your ear. “Going Dark Sam.”

What?! Don't you dare, Y/N- Click. Gone, just you and Loki now.

Loki chuckled as he bunched your dress up around your waist, slipping a hand between thighs, and rubbing against the cloth for a moment, but slightly impatient as they now only had 8 mins to continue, he let his fingers pull it aside to find the heat he was searching for, leaving you shuddering against the glass a moment as slick coated his fingers. Teasing you until you were rubbing into his hand, searching for more.

“Right there Loki...” You whispered with a soft moan, his fingers playing you to heights, biting your lip and crying out softly. Loki sshh'd in your ear. “Can't have you making noise and blowing out cover.” He sucked on your earlobe and removed his fingers from your fluttering channel, your eyes growing desperate in the reflection of the window. He plucked the pearls that hung around your neck, and let them stretch across your ruby red lips till you let them slide over your tongue, round smooth reigns to keep you in control, while his hand clamped over your mouth, muffling your sounds.

“Hope your ready from me Love.” And fuck you were, you pressed your ass back, but that just resulted in him pinning you tighter against the glass, his hand working his pants open enough to release his cock, and press against your channel, and powerful thrust from behind left him seated deeply, filling you in a claiming motion. You were his, he was sure to remind you. Moment like this when he fucked you against the glass for the world to see. If only they would ever look up from there lives.

Loki's hips slapped against you, your body sliding up and down against the glass slightly and he used those Pearls to hold your head back, sucking on those beads while whimpering into his palm, his lips on your neck, all teeth and tongue tasting your skin in the gentlest and hardest of ways. Your slick flowed, a fountain of arousal that he drew from you with every pulling back and snap forward of his hips. There was no modesty in the way you clenched around his cock, not when he angled to hit your sweet trigger, whimper turning into a crying moan, that resulted in him digging his fingers more into the flesh of your cheeks, his hisses against your ear. “You better cum Darling, we can't leave till you do.”

It was so hard to resist him, not that you wanted to. And when your orgasm left you gasping against his palm, Loki caging you in his hold to push you through it while chasing your own, you broke 20 stories above the city, for all of them to view, the lights turning into pinpointed array of stars in your vision, losing all focus, the cold glass offsetting the heat Loki filled you with. You were at your highest shattering bliss, and the world, all of it fades into nothing but a hazy thought in the back of your mind. Loki's hands covered yours against the window, his fingers sliding through yours in a clasp as he bit on your shoulder, muffling his own cries of pleasure.

Filling you with his seed, he took tagged breaths against your shoulder before lifting his head, the two of you catching eyes in the reflection, and he was careful to pull out, covering your neck in kisses while loosening his palm and easing your pearls back out of your mouth and around your neck, whispering. “I love it when you wear your pearls Pet.” He worked on straightening your dress, sure it was once again in place, smooth, and streamlined flowing down your legs. Tucking himself away while you grabbed the drive, he slipped it back into his pocket and cleaned any evidence you two might have left on the glass.

Rejoining downstairs, you flicked the com back on, while Loki drew you onto the dance floor, expert hands sliding in place and you two slipped into the crowd, twirling slightly with the music. “Back Sam.” you said softly enough for just Sam to hear, and immediately there was some cursing on the other end.

You two are on a mission, MISSION. Ain't no damn time for- You started to ignore the ranting of your teammate, looking up at Loki who had a satisfied smile on his face and a light press of lips against your forehead, you buried your face against his chest, and finished out the dance. Plucking the ticket from his jacket while you two headed for the exit to give to the valet, you looked up at him.

“So Conrad, thanks for showing a girl a good time.” Unable to hold back the grin that crossed your face, Loki wrapping you up in your shawl and laughing softly to himself while you two left, heading back to the compound, successful mission accomplished.

77 notes · View notes