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seriouslysnape · 4 years ago

Text

Moonlight Dip

Neville Longbottom x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Sexual content (super brief).

Word Count: 2,588

“We’re going swimming.”

Hogwarts was always desolate and quiet at this time of night. The only person who was supposed to be stirring was Filch, Mrs. Norris, and possibly Professor Snape keeping an eye out for any students who had grown bold enough to break curfew. Most students didn’t bother trying to sneak around the castle at night. Not because they were afraid of getting caught, but because if they DID get caught, they’d have to deal with Filch’s overly strict behavior. Honestly, that was a punishment in and of itself.

Which was why Neville just couldn’t seem to figure out why you were leading him through the dark corridors, moving like a woman on a mission. You had crept into his dorm around midnight or so, pouncing on his bed and shaking him from his gentle slumber. You barely waited for him to wake up before you were whisper-shouting at him that you had somewhere for the two of you to go. He never minded a surprise visit from you, but he also wasn’t very keen on attempting to slip out undetected. Still, his curiosity won out.

“Hey, uh, flower?” He whispered, not knowing where Filch might’ve been.

“Yes, Neville?” You whispered back, peering your head around the corner to check for anyone coming.

“Where are we going exactly? And why are you in your robes?” He questioned, feeling a bubble of nervousness in his chest.

Truth be told, Neville felt a little underdressed. He was clad in his pajamas bottoms and an old t-shirt that he only used to sleep in. You looked back at him with a smile, his heart leaping at how beautiful you looked under the illumination of the Lumos you had uttered from your wand. Neville had learned to be more spontaneous after he had begun dating you. You were as sweet and respectful as anyone, but you definitely had a wild side that sometimes shaved some years off of Neville’s life. He wasn’t sure what to think of it at first, but over time he found that he loved all of your silly shenanigans. Even the ones that had gotten you both in hot water before.

“I told you, Nev. It’s a surprise!” You answered, squeezing his hand that was interlaced in yours, “It won’t be a surprise anymore if I tell you.”

Neville made a puzzled, yet thoughtful look as he racked his brain of possible ideas. He thought that maybe that you were daring to venture to Hogsmeade for a late night snack. Every now and again, you’d convince Neville to help you with sneaking into Honeydukes after hours to snag a few treats (don’t worry, you always left the right amount of money on the counter to pay for it).

However, his theory was proven wrong when he realized that you were taking him past the courtyard and in the general direction of the Quidditch field. He was glad that it was well into spring now, and the nights were warm with the days. You didn’t play Quidditch though, and neither did he. So he couldn’t fathom why you were headed that way.

“The Quidditch fields are always dark this time of night. There’s no way we’ll be able to see.” Neville pointed out, mumbling under his breath when he almost tripped on a loose rock.

You turned to look at him again, another smile plastering on your face.

“Then it’s a good thing that we aren’t going there.” You replied.

Sure enough, you kept walking towards your desired locating, keeping your antsy boyfriend in tow. About the time that Neville had given up on trying to figure out where you were taking him, his question was answered. The lake was always so pretty at night, and tonight was no exception. The moon was only a phase away from being full, but still offering enough light to where the two of you could somewhat see. The reflection bounced beautifully off of the dark lake, creating glittering ripples in the water when it was agitated from it’s still position.

You let go of Neville’s hand once you were standing on the bank, crouching down to untie your shoelaces. Neville stood still, his arms at his side rather awkwardly. He wasn’t picking up on your plan just yet.

“I didn’t know that you like to fish.” Neville said aloud, not bothering to whisper anymore since there was no chance that anyone would be out here.

“I don’t.” You giggled, removing your shoes and socks.

Neville’s eyebrows raised, still oblivious even as your fingertips worked at untying the cord around your robes. Well, he WAS oblivious, until it was literally right in front of his face.

“Then why are we- oh my God, what are you doing?” He cut himself off when your robes fell to the grass, revealing your bra and knickers underneath.

Neville was glad that it was mainly dark outside, because his sudden deep blush would’ve been painfully obvious otherwise. You smirked at the bashful boy who was frozen in place, unsure of what he was supposed to do.

“We’re going swimming.” You announced, reaching for his hand again.

Except he didn’t take your hand. He wasn’t on board with this idea at all.

“Oh no. No, no, no. I draw the line at swimming naked!” He rattled off, taking a step away from you.

You weren’t offended in the slightest, and you were even rather amused at his skittish behavior. This was nothing new to you.

“I’m technically not naked.” You reminded him calmly.

“You’re in your knickers!” He hissed back, his eyes widening as he actually took a second to look at the lacy material.

“Exactly. Which equals not naked.” You returned, fighting the urge to burst into laughter.

“Nope!” He protested, sitting down on the grass instead, “I’ve defended us for getting caught sneaking off for Chocolate Frogs and breaking into the library at 3 o’clock in the morning. But I will not try to explain why we were in the lake naked.”

Neville seemed adamant about staying put where he was. He was tempted to get up and leave, but there was no shot in hell that he was going to leave you out here by yourself. He was perfectly fine with sitting off to the side and observing from a safe distance.

“You see me in my underwear all the time, Nevy,” You said, not really believing that the lack of clothes was what he was timid about, “Is it the ‘nakedness’ or the critters that sometimes live in the lake?”

Neville was frightened of a lot of things, and while he tended to love animals, aquatic animals were an exception. Fish and water-based bugs freaked him out for some reason that even you didn’t quite understand. The only animals that lived in and around water that he liked were frogs and toads. The only aspect of the lake that he might enjoy (aside from seeing you wet and half-naked) were the plants that were undoubtedly growing below the surface.

“Maybe both...” He murmured, resting his forearms on top of his knees that were pulled into his chest, “Regardless, I’m staying right here.”

You shrugged your shoulders, believing your intuition that said that he’d be in the water with you in less than fifteen minutes.

“Suit yourself.” You told him before making a graceful entrance splash into the water.

He watched as you plunged in, your entire frame disappearing under the water that looked black due to the inky color of the sky. Neville felt his nerves get fired up when you went under, a slight anxiety in his gut that you might not come back up. The lake wasn’t super deep by any means, only coming up to just below your hip. Neville knew that it was possible to drown in any depth of water, which was why he became a bit on edge.

Thankfully, though, you emerged from below the water before he could get too worked up. He watched with interest when your hands swept your wet hair backwards, slicking it on your head.

Neville had always found you pretty. He thought you were the most beautiful girl on the planet. While he always thought that you looked stunning, there were still times where it was much more clear to him. For instance, early in the morning when you’ve just woken up is one of his favorites. Or right before a Gryffindor party on Friday nights when you’ve taken extra time to get spiffied up. Seeing you always made his heart beat with a little more purpose. It reminded him of how much he cared for and loved you.

And this moment now really had him swooning.

His eyes studied as water droplets dripped from your frame, soaking into your underwear and gliding down your beautiful skin. It created a shiny gleam over you, bringing out all of his favorite parts of you. He must’ve fallen into a lusty daze, because he felt himself snap back into reality when you called to him.

“You sure you don’t want to get in?” You spoke, letting your fingertips trail over the surface of the lake.

Neville shook his head in response.

“I’m good here, tulip. Promise.” He said, still not sure if this was something he wanted to do.

You never pressured Neville into doing things he didn’t want to do. You never wanted him to be uncomfortable around you or associate discomfort with spending time with you. However, you knew that Neville was a worrier. He was an avid overthinker and sometimes just let his nerves get the best of him. You encouraged him to live a little more, without thinking about every single possible outcome of a situation. It’s great to be cautious and aware, but life without taking some risks could be...boring. You just didn’t want Neville to grow old with you and wish he hadn’t let his head get the best of him.

You swam out towards the middle of the lake, but not so far that you couldn’t see or hear Neville. You floated on your back and played with things that you found on the mushy, sandy floor of the lake. Neville maintained a conversation with you, but found himself feeling tempted to join you. It was just swimming. It wasn’t like the two of you were trying to blow up the lake or anything.

“How does...how does it feel?” Neville asked, stifling a giggle at how you were bouncing on your feet with your head lolled to the side to get water out of your ear.

“It’s nice. It’s not warm by any means, but it feels good.” You told him, wringing the excess water from your hair, “Changed your mind?”

Neville chewed the inside of his cheek, but he was warming up to the idea.

“I don’t even have a pair of swim trunks with me.” He argued.

You motioned towards your own body with a look of hilarity.

“Oh, and I’m wearing my swimsuit? It doesn’t matter, love. Just take off what you have on.” You instructed, getting hopeful that he was actually going to do it.

Neville stood from where he sat, stripping down to his boxers at a snail’s pace. He folded his clothes neatly, setting them next to your robes that he had also folded previously. He dipped his foot into the water, expecting it to be much colder than it actually was. It was a lukewarm temperature, something that would be refreshing on a hot summer day, but far too freezing for a frigid winter day. For his moderate spring night, it was perfect.

Neville didn’t love how the bottom of the lake felt on his feet. It was a mix of a squishy, gelatinous feeling. You reached for his hands excitedly, taking them as he waded out to where you were standing.

“So, what do you think?” You wondered, careful not to freak him out too much,

“It feels...nice. I don’t think I’ve ever been in this lake,” He admitted, “How did you even come up with this?”

“Well, you told me once that your Gran used to have a little pond behind her house that you liked to swim in during the summer. You said you enjoyed it and I thought maybe this would be something you’d like too,” You explained to him, suddenly feeling insecure about this whole thing, “I know it’s probably not the same or as fun.”

Now things really started to make sense. Neville felt the cage of butterflies flutter all into his belly whenever you did something sweet for him. Especially when it was something with sentimental value.

Neville had undeniably fallen in love with you. Not because of your witty personality or the random adventures you liked to take him on. Those things were plenty great, and he cherished those things with everything he had. But that wasn’t what made him decide that you were his future.

It was the pureness of your heart.

He fell for you more and more each time you did something for him. Whether it was as small as you combing your fingers through his hair when he was asleep on your chest in the common room, or as big as the time you devised a plan to throw a surprise birthday party for him at his Gran’s house. No matter what it was, you never hesitated to spend your energy, time, and love on making him happy.

“I did always like that pond, flower. But...you want to know something?” He said smoothly, with just the faintest hint of shakiness in his tone, “This is a lot better.”

He pulled you in close at the sight of your brightening eyes, bringing you down with him as he sank down to his knees under the top of the water.

“Oh, yeah? Why’s that?” You pressed on.

“Because you’re here.” He mewled, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

His descent of kisses trailed down to your nose, to your cheeks, to your lips. His kisses were never rushed in moments like this. They weren’t ever in a rush to get to the point or so rough that he didn’t have a chance to feel it. He liked to take his time with you. He liked to savor you.

“I love you, Nev. I really do.” You professed once he pulled away from you.

“I love you, petal,” He returned, going to kiss you again, but stopped when he took a big swash of lake water to the face.

He let out a startled gasp at how he was totally soaked now. It dripped from his hair, droplets rolling to the tip of his nose before falling off back into the lake. He caught your mischievous expression, your cheeks puffed out as you fought your laughter.

“Really funny, doll.” He sputtered, nonchalantly reaching around to your back and unclasping your bra with one hand. He managed to whip it off of you with ease, leaving you completely naked on top.

“Neville!” You squealed, “Give it back! That’s my favorite one!”

Neville teased you as he held your bra high in the air above his head, chuckling as you struggled (and failed) to get it back.

“Don’t worry, love bug. I’ll take good care of it. But if you want it...” Neville paused, shimmying past you and waddling further out into the lake with a sneaky, yet innocent sneer on his face;

“You’ve got to come and get it.”

*****

Tags: @lupinsslut @writingscape @msmimimerton @thefilmcity

#neville longbottom #neville longbottom x y/n #neville longbottom x you #neville longbottom x female reader #neville longbottom x fem! reader #neville longbottom fluff #neville longbottom imagine #neville longbottom oneshot #seriouslysnape

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mizunetzu · 4 years ago

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haha it's me again! could i get iida dating a delinquent male reader? (stuff like he smokes and breaks rules) like iidas trying to get the reader to follow the rules and he's like "i'll do that if you go on a date with me" so he does and the readers actually a really chill guy and they have a fun time, some fluff please?

IIDA DUDE MY GOD. MY RELIGION. MY SAVIOR. ok. Okok so. You said fluff and I delivered. But like-I mayyyyybe sprinkled in some angst. No worries. Fluff ending guaranteed. Also you know I enjoyed writing something when I broke my 1000 words rule. Like sheesh this is 3000 pLUS WORDS-

Also if iidareaders reblogs I’ll eat my shirt in joy

——————

Iida x reader - Selfish Promise

⚠️warnings - delinquent reader? Selfish-y Iida? Idk. None lmao

Pronouns - male, he/him

——————

(Y/n) wasn’t going to lie. Iida really got on his nerves. He’s always up his ass about sagging his pants down low, or running in the hallways. It’s not like it was his business. He was in class 1-B, for god sakes.

Everyone in 1-A knew him as that “1-B boy” who always liked fucking with Iida. And he did, it was fun to see him get all pissy and red when he unbuttoned his dress shirt to the point you could easily flash him if you tugged hard enough. Iida was pretty, but even more pretty when he’s flustered. He wasn’t going to deny the fluttery feeling in his chest when he sees an opportunity to interact with Iida.

Which is how (y/n) found himself smoking outside the UA dorms, sitting outside on the steps and staring up at the sky. He didn’t smoke much, only when he really needed to destress, but something felt compelling to just pull one out today.

He already heard the engine boosted footsteps hurling his way, a smile growing on his lips. Once the blue haired boy was in sight however, he wiped it off and replaced it with a neutral expression.

“You shouldn’t be smoking on school property, (L/n)-kun!”

“Mm? And you shouldn’t be on 1-Bs dorms. Wait til Vlad or Monoma finds out.”

Iida stumbled back, biting back the scowl forming on his face. He took the cigarette out from (y/n’s) fingers, and stomped on it. (Y/n) clicked his tongue as Iida hiked his glasses up his nose further.

“Stop acting like such a ruffian!”

“Then go on a date with me.”

Iida choked on his own spit. He knew that (y/n) joked around a lot, but this was just excessive.

“(L-L/n), you shouldn’t joke about such intimate matters like that with someone you barely kn-“

“I’m not joking.” (Y/n) stood up from his step, and stood infront of the taller boy. “I’m dead serious.”

Iida opened his mouth, then closed it. “(L/n) it is highly inappropriate for two students, let alone boys, to go on a romantic outing! This is a place for learning!”

“How bout we make a promise then? A deal if you must.” (Y/n) seemed completely calm, but inside he was sweating like a clam. He had said it on impulse, and there was no going back. Either sell it till he declines or hell, he has a date.

“If you be my boyfriend and go out with me for one full day, I’ll stop acting like a ‘ruffian’ or something. I’ll follow the rules and whatnot.”

“B-boyf...” Iidas words got caught in his mouth. “W-WHY?”

“I’m not going to try anything...! It’s..it’s just for my own...reasons...! If...that makes sense...”

Iida ran a hand through his hair. Did (L/n), a delinquent, like-like him? A proper former man from the Iida family? He wasn’t romantically attracted to the shorter boy at all, but this was a good chance! He could finally be set on the right path if he agreed to be his significant other for one day! Easy enough!

Iida pushed up his glasses once more. “Fine. I will do it. But afterwards you better keep your end of the bargain.”

(Y/n) held the tiniest smile and extended his pinky. Iida looked at him confused, before hesitantly interlocking their fingers and shaking it.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Gimme your number. I’ll text you the info later.” They exchanged phone numbers, and Iida bid him goodbye.

(Y/n) felt like he was on top of the world.

—————

“Oi Iida! Over here!” (Y/n) waved his arms around frantically, trying to get the boys attention. Iida spotted him, and made a beeline towards him. He gave a smile and bowed slightly.

“Good morning, (L/n)-kun.”

“Morning! Haha, I’m glad you came! I didn’t think you’d actually show...and you’re on time aswell! As expected of uptight iida.”

(Y/n) was in a pink, slightly oversized hoodie and black sweatpants. Iida was expecting him to be in full black, ripped clothing with skulls on it. He wasn’t expecting him to look so...soft? If you looked at him, you wouldn’t think he was the same person smoking on the steps of a prestigious school.

“Oh well, what time did you get here?”

“An hour ago.”

Iida deadpanned. Even he wasn’t that extra. “Why...”

(Y/n) rubbed the back of his neck shyly and chuckled. “I was so happy I couldn’t wait, ahaha!”

(Y/n’s) probably smiled more times today then the whole time he’s been enrolled into UA. It was an odd sight, but Iida felt a sort of proudness that he was probably the only one who got to see this side of him. He glanced at his face one more time, this time, looking at his red eyes and cheeks.

“...are your eyes swollen..?”

“Oh I...I couldn’t sleep...”

(Y/n) awkwardly chuckled for the 100th time that morning. Iida was about to go on a tangent about how sleep is important to you, but (y/n) suddenly grabbed his wrist, and pulled him forwards. He was practically dragging the poor boy.

“Is there anything specific you wanna do, Iida?” (Y/n) mused, looking around the plaza.

Iida shrugged.

“No, not really. Today’s more of your day, so I’m fine with anything.”

A bright red painted itself onto (y/n’s) cheeks, as he turned back around to hide it. It was usually iida getting all red and flustered, (y/n) wasn’t used to it. Still, it felt kinda nice.

“Awesome dude!”

(Y/n) went on rambling about places they could go to or eat at, but Iidas ears drowned out the noice as he looked at his smiling face. He didn’t know someone so...rude, could look so sweet. (Y/n) tugged at Iidas shoulder.

“...though I suppose, we could just go to a field and train, right?”

—————

(Y/n) got back up to his feet for the 5th time, and charged at Iida. He knew he couldn’t beat him with speed, so he’d have to rely on his quirk as much as he could. They were sparring in a little patch of grass near a small clearing, with a big tree providing the two boys shade. Iida swerved out of the way, making the smaller boy tumble onto the ground face first.

“Ah! (Y/n)! Are you okay?”

Iida rushed to the boys side and tangled his fingers in his hair. “It’s a little swollen but it’s not bleedi...(L/n)-kun...?”

(Y/n) hid his blush with the back of his hands and tensed up. “You..called me...(y/n)...dude..”

It was Iidas turn to tense up. His glasses fogged up as he swung his arms around madly. “IM TERRIBLY SORRY! IT WAS AN ACCIDENT, I SWEAR! IJUSTGOTWORRIEDANDSAIDITONACCIDEN-“

“Dude it’s fine! I-I dont mind..!” (Y/n) jabbed him lightly on the chest.

“L-let me treat you to some food! As apology for your head I mean!” Iida stood up, pulling (y/n) to his feet aswell.

—————

(Y/n) was rambling on nervously again, with chopsticks resting nimbly between his fingers. Iida couldn’t help but gaze at his face. His eyes were softer than he expected, softer than the mockingly hardened eyes he pointed like a sword towards people at UA. His gentle clad smile could raise the heavens, with one crinkle near his left eye and a dimple dangerously close to the corner of his mouth. He had unusually long eyelashes for a guy, but it made him look even more pretty for a bad boy.

“Why are you a delinquent at school when you’re such a sweet and funny person?” The words dripped out of Iidas mouth unconsciously, quickly covering his mouth too late.

(Y/n) flushed bright red, squeezing his chopsticks a little too tightly. “W-well...I don’t know. It’s not like I’m doing it on purpose. People just think I am because i don’t like socializing with everyone I meet? Like-id rather hang out with someone I know and like than go out of my my way to befriend all of class B, y’know? Does that make sense? Ahaha sorry I’m rambling again. I don’t get to talk much with my few friends. And they’ve pretty much heard everything I have to say so it’s refreshingtotalktoa-“

Iida cut him off before he talked his tongue off. “If you don’t talk to people you don’t know well, then why are you talking to me so openly?”

“Because I like you.”

(Y/n) said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. He wasn’t tripping over his words, or laughing nervously. He looked at Iida and said it like saying “the sky is blue” with so much certainty, it made a knot tighten in iidas throat.

Iidas question was, why though? Why did his heart thump along the buttery smooth rhythm of (y/n’s) voice? Why did his head reel every time he saw (y/n’s) eyes light up talking about something he found interesting? Why was he at such a loss for words when his gaze fell on him so attentively?

Iida cleared his throat. Maybe he was just excited to have a new friend. He didn’t see him in a romantic light! How could he? He’s just worked up on the fact that this hardass delinquent boy wasn’t who he thought he was.

“Shall we go, then?”

————

The date went by like a dream. Technically it wasn’t over yet, as the promise was for a full “day”, but window shopping and dicking around while Iida chops aggressively really tires you out. They both ended the day by sparring at the same clearing, before taking refuge on a bus stop bench. The sun was completely gone. Leaving behind the pasty purple and blue sky, washing over and killing the clouds.

“Ahhh, time flies by so fast! Damn, well, the days still not yet over soooo.”

“Yes, yes I know.” Iida chuckled. He thought he was going to have to bear through this day, but it was actually quite splendid. He definitely feels like he’s made a new friend.

“Well, is there anything you wish to do before the day is over?”

“Yeah um, so,” (y/n) cast his eyes down, fiddling with his fingers. “C-can we hold hands..?”

Iida wordlessly set his hand on top of (y/n’s) smaller one, waiting as he interlocked their fingers together. His hand was warm, way warmer than (y/n) was expected. He didn’t know, Iida seemed like a cold hands guy.

They sat quietly under the ambient streetlight, occasionally rubbing a thumb over the others hand, feeling it’s warmth and staring off into the distance. Iida didn’t notice his eyes drooping lower and lower until they were finally closed.

Iida let his thoughts roam. It was something he did when he was going to bed, or simply just resting his eyes for a bit. He thought of his family, what he would do for class on Monday, and finally, (y/n). It was the most prominent thing on his mind, and not because he was unconsciously resting his head on his shoulder, softly but firmly gripping the warm hand underneath his own.

The idea of (y/n) so soft and vulnerable in front of anyone else didn’t sit right with him. He wanted that sweet, kind side all to himself. It was selfish, and even wrong if he thought about it. (Y/n) was so sweet and respectable during this “date” of theirs. Perfect manners for when inside the classroom. If anything, he should be more than glad to have the world share this side of him.

So why was he feeling this way?

He felt a shoulder nudge from under his head, before a hand started vigorously poking at his cheek. He initially ignored it, but once he registered the current situation he jerked up and

“Iida. Iida wake up. It’s 11:40. We should be heading back before midnight. A-at least I want to so we can um...we can still technically legally hold hands by promise-“

Iida rubbed at his eyes in embarrassment. “My sincerest apologies for falling asleep! It was not my intention-“

”oh no it’s all good! I-I kinda fell asleep too. It’s been like...2 hours.”

Iida checked his watch. (Y/n) was right. 11:45 pm. He knocked his glasses up higher on the bridge of his nose and stood up. He extended a hand to (y/n) who tiredly accepted it and pulled himself off the bench.

They spedwalked towards the train station to catch a train back to UA, when (y/n) tugged on his sleeve, halting temporarily.

“Iida.”

Iida turned around with a hum. (Y/n) kept his eyes fixated on the ground, but held on to the sleeve of Iidas jacket like a lifeline.

“Today...is almost over.”

“Yes, um, it’s about 11:57 so we should hurry back-“

“Before the day officially ends,...can you kiss me?”

Iida focused on (y/n’s) downcast face. It wasn’t an expression of nervousness or any sort of flustered emotion. Instead it held a look of unreadable shame.

“If you do, then I would have no regrets. My feelings for you will also end here. I’ll try my best to end it. My feelings grow stronger for you everyday when we bicker or when I simply just see you, so I want to end this with a grand fina-“

“I refuse.”

(Y/n) looked up. Iida glasses glared white, preventing him from seeing his cerulean eyes. But he got his answer from the frown Iida was sporting on his face. Even he could agree, it was a silly request, but he couldn’t help by feeling just a tad bit hurt by how quickly he was shut down.

“I understand.”

(Y/n) averted his eyes, flushing with embarrassment. He scanned the area for something other than Iida to look at, before his eyes landed on the parks clock.

12 am.

Midnight.

The date was officially over.

(Y/n) was quick to let go of the sleeve he’d been clutching for a while now. “A-ah! The day has ended. The dates over.”

He stepped back and ducked his head into a 90 degree bow. “Thank you so so much for coming with me today.”

“I’m really happy.”

His expression betrayed his words. If there was one word to describe it, Iida would say it looked dead. Hollow, even. It looked hollow, like the sinking feeling harboring itself in his chest. He knocked against his ribcage multiple times to shake the achy feeling in his chest, but it never went away.

“Well, let’s head back now. It’s late.”

(Y/n) silently walked past Iida. It wasn’t until seeing his watery face drenched in silent hot tears walk by that Iida realized,

He was in love with (L/n) (Y/n).

He was in love with the sweet delinquent boy who smokes and sits on desks, but also has the most hypnotizing laugh. He was in love with the boy who wore saggy pants to school, but also wore an oversized pink hoodie that made Iida reluctantly imagine him wearing one of his own jackets. Oh, how cute he would look.

He was hopelessly, graciously, entirely in love with (L/n) (Y/n).

Iida ran up to (y/n), who had walked past him and kept going with the assumption that he was behind him. His breath crystallized in the form of fog when he ran, faster than he ever did without using his engines. There wasn’t enough time to hike the fabric of his pants up, and he’d rather not burn them to a crisp with the steam from his engine.

“(L-L/n)!”

He wasn’t sure if he heard him. He was still a great length away.

“(L/n)!”

He was closer now. Close enough for him to hear. He was either lost in his thoughts or outright ignoring him.

“(Y/N)!”

The boy whipped his head around so fast, his tears flung into the cold air and landed beside him on the ground. Iida didn’t think far ahead as to brace for landing, choosing instead to glomp (y/n) into a soul crushing hug. Though, it was more of a tackle with the the way they both tumbled over and hit the ground with a thud.

(Y/n) was able to soften the blow with his quirk, but the impact of Iida landing on his chest still knocked the wind out of him. He was waiting for Iida to start swinging his hands and start apologizing profusely, but instead got pulled up to his knees and encased in a more gentle hug.

He was buried in the crook of Iida neck, who in return nuzzled himself into (y/n’s) hair. They stood, or rather kneeled, in a stiff silence, rocking back and forth ever so gently.

“Sorry.”

“Wah! Don’t apologize! You did nothing wrong, you had the full right to deny my request-“

“No, not for that.” Iida untangled himself from the warmth of (y/n’s) body to look at him seriously. “I’m sorry for breaking our promise. Our deal.”

(Y/n) wiped his stray tears away, all bitterness turning itself into lighthearted confusion. “But you didnt-“

(Y/n’s) words fizzled out in his throat when a pair of lips shut him up. His eyes fluttered closed as he wrapped his arms shakily around Iidas neck, drawing him closer than he already his. After what seemed like forever, Iida suddenly jumped back with fogged up glasses and heavy blush on his face.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I wasn’t thinking! Forgive me!”

“You know, all you’ve done was apologize all day. Is this what you normally do in class?”

“NO!” Iida fell back on his ass, a yelp escaping from his throat. (Y/n) chuckled ironically, pushing himself up to his feet and extending a hand towards the blue haired boy.

“I still don’t see how you broke our deal.”

Iida dusted himself off and adjusted his glasses. “Well-listen I-“ For once in his life, he was at a loss for words.

“I...want to e-extent it. O-Our date, I mean.”

Iida stood rigid as a board as (y/n) blinked.

“Wait-so like, you’ll go out with me tomorrow?”

“Yeah.”

“And the day after that.”

“Yes I suppose so.”

“A-and how bout a week from now-“

Iida grabbed (y/n’s) shoulders and shook him roughly. And by rough, I mean rough. This boy has enough beef to throw (y/n) into the sun.

“I-I WANT TO GO OUT WITH YOU FOREVER! I WANT YOU TO BE MY BOYFRIEND! I...I WANT TO BE YOUR BOYFRIEND! I WANT YOUR KINDNESS AND SWEETNESS ALL TO MYSELF! SO BE IT YOU’RE UNINTENTIONALLY A NEGLIGENT BOY AT SCHOOL! I WANT THIS SPECIAL SIDE OF YOU RESERVED FOR MYSELF! IVE NEVER BEEN SELFISH IN MY WHOLE LIFE SO SURELY THIS IS FINE! I WANT TO BE SELFISH! I WANT TO HOLD YOU IN MY ARMS MORE! I WANT TO GO ON SOME MORE DATES WITH YOU! (Y/N)-KUN I LOVE YOU!”

Iida has never considered himself selfish. He wasn’t the type to want something all to himself. If his friends wanted to be friends with someone he disapproved of, so be it. If he bought food but a fellow classmate was starving, he’d be eating only half as his classmate would be happily munching on their portion. If it was reasonable, he’d be willing to give up anything. It was the right thing to do.

Surely all of those good deeds would permit him to be selfish just this once. He’d never known the feeling of wanting something so bad to the point you felt like you were boiling. Of wanting no one else to have someone look at them the same way they looked at him. And how utterly satisfying it felt to have someone to claim as your own. Just this once couldn’t hurt anyone.

And by god, the impossibly wide smile (y/n) held was one thousand percent worth it.

————

“Halt! No running in the hallways, (L/n)-Kun!”

(Y/n) slowed down to a stop and sighed. “Dude, get off my dick.”

“Still pestering (L/n) huh? As expected of Iida!” Mina and Uraraka giggled, as they both disappeared inside the 1-A classroom. The hallway was empty now, making both Iida and (y/n) relax. (Y/n’s) pissed off expression softened, a smile now growing on his face. Iida swears it’s like talking to two different people. It’s kind of scary.

“Good morning, Tenya-Chan~”

“Uh-uh. Don’t ‘Tenya-Chan’ me. You know the rules. You owe me a kiss for breaking a rule. Gimme.”

Iida made grabby hands at (y/n), puckering his lips jokingly. God, he didn’t want to admit it but (y/n’s) sense of humor was rubbing off on him.

(Y/n) snorted at his boyfriends antics, pressing a gentle kiss onto his mouth. “Well-I gotta go, bye bye, Tenya! See you later. Call me, you sexy lamppost.”

(Y/n) timpered off to his classroom, his bad boy attitude returning once he stepped inside. Iida stood there, in utter confusion, before turning around and walking inside his own class.

“Ne ne, Iida, I’ve noticed you’re kinda like...less strict with that 1-B baddie. What’s up?”

Mina followed behind Iida with a curious, shit eating smile on her face.

“Ah. We...became good friends. He’s not as bad as I thought, I suppose.”

Mina looked at Iida unconvinced.

“You know, I saw you and bad boy kissing out there. My god. Iida. You gay liar.”

Iida, along with probably everyone else in class 1-A, collectively choked on air.

——————

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ninjago-happens-here · 3 years ago

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'Bandages come in many ways. There are gauze bandages, treating all kinds of wounds the Ninja may have. There are bandages used to prevent injury in Martial Arts. What P.I.X.A.L. is wondering, is that if mankind has a bandage for the heart.'

@ninjago-angst-week am I late or what? Sorry but I think spewing out 21k words over teh course of 3 days killed my motivation. It took 3 days just to write 6.1k words.

Summary:

P.I.X.A.L. notices that the store of bandages is running low. She thinks about all the times she had to use them on one of her teammates, and its purposes.

“Hey Pix! We’re running low on bandages. Can you help us order some before we go to Shintaro?” Nya’s voice came from the medical bay of the Destiny’s Bounty. The Ninja and Master Wu were going on a trip to Shintaro. Unfortunately, Pixal never got an invite, but she has long been used to being left behind. It’s not that it was a bad thing, per se. Pixal knew the importance of having a backup, and having someone watch over Ninjago whilst the Ninja were gone. Still, to distract herself after placing a digital order, she thought about anything that could distract her. That thing just happened to be about bandages.

Bandages. Neat, white little things that wrap around any land or sky creature. According to Wikipedia, a bandage is a piece of material used either to support a medical device such as a dressing or splint, or on its own to provide support to or to restrict the movement of a part of the body. When used with a dressing, the dressing is applied directly to a wound, and a bandage is used to hold the dressing in place. Other bandages are used without dressings, such as elastic bandages that are used to reduce swelling or provide support to a sprained ankle. Tight bandages can be used to slow blood flow to an extremity, such as when a leg or arm is bleeding heavily.

At first, that was all P.I.X.A.L. knew about bandages. Given that she was built with the main purpose of being Cyrus Borg’s assistant, her primary knowledge consisted mostly of the ins and outs of Borg Tower, emergency protocols, customer service skills, and basic first aid, given that her maker was frailer than your average Ninjago citizen.

Of course, the longer she worked under Cyrus Borg, the more she learnt about the medical field. Curious about Mr Borg’s special circumstances, she was permitted to look through the internet for more information. In no time at all, she learnt about surgery, prosthetics, all different kinds of medication, and how to diagnose illnesses. In her given free time, she studied all the information available on the internet about the medical field. Even though the information was useless to her, an android who had no physical weaknesses like the humans do, her system determined that whilst the knowledge was a bit excessive, it only helps to prepare her to care for Mr Borg.

She never really needed to apply all that knowledge about serious and fatal cuts, but when Borg gets even the slightest injury, P.I.X.A.L. was there to offer her assistance.

A year after she had been created, Cyrus Borg had offered her to take a test of the field in medicine. P.I.X.A.L. had immediately felt lighter and better somehow. When asking Borg why she was feeling this way and if robots could get sick, Borg had laughed in surprise and shock.

“That feeling is happiness, P.I.X.A.L.! It’s an emotion that all living creatures feel, you included.”

“But I am not living-“ Mr Borg cut her off.

“Technically, you are right, P.I.X.A.L., but you are intelligence, and intelligence is what defines life. You can adapt, change, and overcome as all living beings do. Don’t let anyone else tell you otherwise! Because that would be an insult to my intelligence!” Cyrus Borg said encouragingly. “And robots can technically get sick, from a digital virus. But I created you to be strong, stronger than I ever will be. You should not have to worry about them.”

P.I.X.A.L. nodded her head to show her understanding. “Then I will go to the exam.”

P.I.X.A.L. didn’t pass on her first try, but Mr Borg told her that it was alright, given that she still did very well considering that she only had the free internet to look for answers to a test she was unprepared for. It was human for her to have failed.

“So why did you send me there with no preparation?” P.I.X.A.L. asked with a shaking voice.

“To prepare you for failure, my dear!” Cyrus Borg said patronisingly. “Since I’ve built you, you’ve been perfect in many, many ways. And that isn’t a bad thing! But life isn’t that simple. You may fail in one way or another in the future because like humans, the circumstances may not be what you desired and plans can fall apart due to errors. What I want you to know is how failure feels like, and I will help you recover from it.”

P.I.X.A.L. nodded. It won’t be long before she faced her first, real big failure.

- Lloyd - The first time she had to really apply those skills that she learnt was when the team had seen Lloyd in the village. After he was pulled out of the ocean because he had to escape from an exploding plane that the Digilord had trapped him on. The locals had wanted to help, but Lloyd wasn’t feeling like having strangers cut him up, so they offered him some basic and outdated medical supplies.

P.I.X.A.L. could see him trying to treat himself and to stay awake, and she could see him hiss as the alcohol drizzled on his wounds.

“LLOYD!” Kai shouted in a tone that conveyed panic. This made the young ultimate spinjitzu master look up from his handiwork and immediately break into a smile. As the team had rushed forward to greet him, P.I.X.A.L. could see that his shoulders were sagging, probably from relief.

“I’m so sorry that I got caught guys,” Lloyd wheezed with an apologetic smile before keeling over, to which Cole caught him with shaking hands.

“Oh god, Zane, quick, do your thing!” Kai panicked even harder, hands jittery as if he was in an internal debate about whether he should do something or not. “I’m trying Kai! I just- my hands keep shaking for some reason!” Zane gritted his teeth in frustration. “I’m gonna run some diagnostics on him” “Okay, Cole, lie him on a flat surface- medic! Medic!” Nya screamed out.

It was at this moment that P.I.X.A.L. knew that was her chance. To repay Zane for his heart. To prove to the team that she was useful. To finally implement her knowledge. Sometimes, she wonders if she’ll ever have what Zane has with the other humans, but for now, she is glad that she can separate her emotions from her work.

“Let me handle it,” P.I.X.A.L. said authoritatively. Running a scan with her own diagnostics, P.I.X.A.L. isolated the most dangerous injuries before telling the group out loud, staring at her apprehensively.

“Master Lloyd has suffered a concussion, lung damage due to smoke inhalation, and fractured bones in his tibia. He also has a sprained ankle and several bones on his upper chest area have several bruises. Luckily, there is no internal bleeding. He also has some first and second-degree burns, but those look like they have been treated by the ocean water. However, he is at risk of hypothermia should he not change out of those clothes. Other cuts and bruises should not be life-threatening as long as we keep the infection away, and-“

“WE GET IT! Can you just PLEASE start treating Lloyd NOW?” Jay shrieked in frustration. P.I.X.A.L. blinked. Oh right, the ninjas are still panicking.

“Apologies, can I have a look at the medical supplies?” Taking a scalpel out of the medical box, P.I.X.A.L. removed Lloyd Garmadon’s shirt and so multiple bruises as well as the look of someone who’s emancipated. It didn’t really make any sense to her, but she supposed that being drained of his elemental powers must have caused some damage.

“To treat his concussion, he needs peace and to rest. I would like if all of you can speak in whispers from now on,” P.I.X.A.L. began. The soup suddenly looked ashamed and guilty, with Jay whispering a soft ‘sorry’.

“To treat his hypothermia, we would need blankets-“

“Why can’t I just warm him up with fire?” Kai cut across. “Well, the extreme heat can damage the skin or, even worse, cause irregular heartbeats so severe that they can cause the heart to stop. However, starting a campfire some meters away could help a little. using this fire, we can make some warm beverages and some food.”

“Just say what we gotta do doc, we’ll listen!” Nya begged swiftly. P.I.X.A.L. thought for a moment, before choosing to sort people out based on their perceived abilities.

“Kai, Jay, Cole, Sensei Wu, and Sensei Garmadon- please look for blankets in the village and start a campfire over there,” Pointing at a spot a satisfactory distance from Lloyd, P.I.X.A.L. continued with giving instructions. “Start making some sort of soup- not too heavy. Zane, Nya- you’re with me.”

Garmadon, who was silent all this time, started to protest. “I cannot leave my son, Pixal.”

“Fine, you may stay and just keep tending to the campfire,” P.I.X.A.L. conceded, not wanting to waste time arguing. There was the matter of fact that the smoke inhaled by Lloyd Garmadon could be fatal, but there was not much that she could do in his location. All she could hope to do was to treat his minor injuries before ensuring that Lloyd is stable enough to go to a hospital in Ninjago. Which would have been impossible, given that the Digilord had control of the city already. What could she do? Maybe there’s an elemental master of the air who could treat Lloyd?

“Pix, do you not have any ideas on how to treat the smoke inhalation?” Zane looked at her with kind and understanding eyes. Pixal nodded, defeated, before preparing a cast. “We need concentrated oxygen and a nose tube or a tube down his throat. Unfortunately, there is nowhere in Ninjago where we can get to such technology.”

Hearing this, Nya immediately perked up. “But we can make them. Zane, do you have any wires that you can spare for a bit?”

“Redirecting power from the right hand,” Zane replied as he opened up his arm to take out a tube. He’s so self-sacrificing. For some strange reason, P.I.X.A.L. felt her heart beating faster. Maybe Zane was nervous? “Nya, if you could please clean this?”

“Of course. HEY KAI!” “Yeah, sis?” Nya was looking at P.I.X.A.L. expectantly. Oh yes. she was supposed to know this, wasn’t she? “Can you get us 10 cups of potable water and 1 cup of vinegar? Also, get some detergent or soap.” “Okay Pix, not gonna question this at all!”

Meanwhile, Nya was using pure H2O to just start blasting the tubing As much as they wanted Lloyd to not die from smoke inhalation, they also didn’t want him to be infected. Speaking of infections…

“Ow!” Lloyd woke up sleepily as Zane used one hand to dab his cuts. Looking sheepish, Zane immediately offered an apology before Nya cuts in and admitting her mistake.

“Go back to Lloyd,” Nya said, petting his hair. Once Kai had returned with the necessary materials, Nya sanitised her hands before delicately cleaning the tube with 10 parts water and 1 part vinegar.

Tightening the wrappings around Lloyd’s ankle, Pixal studied her handiwork. The splint was holding up nicely against Lloyd’s leg, and all the infections on Lloyd’s legs were taken care of. Seeing as Zane is treating Lloyd well enough, P.I.X.A.L. immediately began to start diagnosing Lloyd’s burns before seeing blood flow from Lloyd’s back.

“Oh, dear.” In her hast, P.I.X.A.L. had forgotten to check Lloyd for injuries from behind. Maybe she wasn’t as professional as she thought. There was no other choice. Looking at Zane firmly, they pushed Lloyd onto his side as he gave a pained groan.

P.I.X.A.L.’s mechanical heart sank. Lloyd had a reason for sitting up without any support. There were several pieces of debris stuck to his back, and they were all pushed in due to them lying Lloyd on the desk. Nya looked up from her task in horror.

“I’m so sorry Lloyd, I didn’t know-“ “Nya, please focus on your task,” P.I.X.A.L. cut her off before she could begin crying. She felt bad, but what’s done was done. Blocking Lloyd from’s Nya’s view, P.I.X.A.L. picked up a pair of tweezers before picking up the small pieces. But the large piece of metal stuck in his shoulder blades- Pixal had to cut Lloyd’s skin to get that out. Eyes narrowing, hardening her resolve- P.I.X.A.L. lightly cut Lloyd’s skin using the scalpel before pulling up a long shard of bloodied glass. Picking up some of the unused water, P.I.X.A.L. quickly cleared Lloyd and the flat-surfaced of their blood. Applying pressure to those wounds would be hard from this angle, so after disinfecting the openings, P.I.X.A.L. took several rolls of bandages before tying them around Lloyd’s chest. Not too tightly, that would further bruise his ribs- but tight enough to ensure a sense of security and staunch the oozing bleeding.

“Zane, do you have an oxygen filter?” Nya asked, having been satisfied by the cleanliness of the tubing. Sanitising her metallic hands, P.I.X.AL. heard Zane sigh before declining.

“I do. Mr Borg wanted us to be at least a little environmentally friendly, given that the Nindroids would be using large amounts of energy every day. So I can filter out excess greenhouse gases in the air and store them in their solid form before giving the raw materials back to Borg Industries,” P.I.X.A.L. offered.

“You’re a lifesaver Pix,” Nya said in relief, handing P.I.X.A.L. the tubing. P.I.X.A.L. smiled. She supposed that she actually was. Opening Lloyd Garmadon’s mouth, P.I.X.A.L. inserted the tubing down his throat with NIndroid precision. Connecting the end to her oxygen filter, P.I.X.A.L. adjusted the settings so that she was inputting air composing of at least 60% oxygen into young Garmadon’s lungs.

As Zane finished applying some frost to Lloyd’s burns, the 3 of them stood there and watched as Lloyd breathed in and out.

“If you guys don’t mind, I’ll go find what the guys have been doing,” Nya informed their group. “I too will go into the village, but to ensure that we have permission to stay here for the night,” Zane stated, giving a nod to P.I.X.A.L., before walking away into the dusk, right hand locked and useless.

P.I.X.A.L., knowing that she can’t really move, sat next to Lloyd Garmadon as she watched the campfire grow as shrieks from the ninja team rose. At the end of today, all P.I.X.A.L. wanted to do was to just shut down and recharge. She knows she doesn’t need to know that she had half of Zane’s heart (which just skipped another beat for some unknown reason), but all she wants was a break.

Too bad that being a ninja means that you don’t really get to choose when to stop. P.I.X.A.L. thought to herself.

But at least today, I’ve proved my usefulness. I can repay Zane for his heart.

- Kai - Having been stuck alone, disassembled and scrapped, P.I.X.A.L. found that she really, really missed the Ninja team. She also missed Zane, though he was in a cell next to hers. He’s been offline for such a long time, P.I.X.A.L. had fears that he would never wake up.

But he did. And the ninja had rescued them from Chen. But along the way, they had lost Sensei Garmadon, and the year apart had caused some major issues.

Kai doesn’t know that they’re here. But he shouldn’t be here either after Zane had ordered that everyone go to rest after this long day. Still, the glint of red from his eyes even scared P.I.X.A.L., but she would never tell anyone that. She watched as Kai shredded the bandages he wrapped around his hands by destroying a metal training dummy, before turning around to wrap some more.

“Why is he doing that?” P.I.X.A.L. wondered from inside Zane’s head. Zane started whispering, “He… has some anger issues.”

“I get that Zane, I mean why’s he wrapping his hands in bandages?” P.I.X.A.L. corrected herself. Zane quirked an eyebrow but continued with answering P.I.X.A.L.’s questions. “Well, martial artists wear hand wraps and bandages because they can prevent injuries and improve the power of their punches. Wraps and bandages also protect the martial artist’s skin and soften the impact on hard surfaces.”

“I see,” P.I.X.A.L. stated whilst both of them cringed, as Kai delivered a particularly hard blow to the metallic dummy that Zane was supposed to fight with.

“KAI, PLEASE SHUT UP!” came Jay’s voice from down the corridor, moving closer towards them. Zane and P.I.X.A.L. watched in apprehension as Kai breathed heavily, staring down the metallic dummy before all the tension from his shoulders sagged.

The Nindroids watched as Kai cleaned up the training room and head out to use the bathroom to wash up.

“He’s being too hard on himself for the death of Lloyd’s father,” P.I.X.AL. commented blandly. Zane shifted from his position. “I’m afraid that that’s not the only reason. Do you remember Jay telling us that Kai had almost killed both Lloyd and Skylor using Chen’s staff?” P.I.X.A.L. stayed silent.

Bandages come in many ways. There are gauze bandages, treating all kinds of wounds the Ninja may have. There are bandages used to prevent injury in Martial Arts. What P.I.X.A.L. is wondering, is that if mankind has a bandage for the heart.

- Jay - It was only a few days after Master Wu had been lost in time. Whilst the Ninja team were recuperating and in shock, Pixal has been remotely using Samurai X to patrol the cities whilst maintaining in the current Ninja’s headquarters- the electronic system of Yang’s temple. P.I.X.AL. had really wanted to go full into Samurai X, but she knew that she could not just desert her teammates at this moment. But there wasn’t much she could do, other than counting reps for Lloyd. (You skipped a number, I know what you’re doing Pix, and I ain’t gonna stop training-) helping Jay prepare breakfast (Jay! The pancakes are burning!) or accompanying Zane as he retrieved bits and pieces from all the fighting. (Someone has to clean up Ninjago city, and I guess that that would be me and Samurai X.)

P.I.X.A.L. knew that she shouldn’t be keeping Samurai X a secret, but she couldn’t help herself. She felt a strange sense of duty, and the ability to finally be on the front lines, fighting the same enemies as Zane. And she wanted some secrets to herself.

Still, it surprised her when Jay had demanded her full attention during one of her free times.

“Hey, umm… Pix? Do you- do you think you could maybe check out my left eye?” Jay stammered whilst twiddling his fingers. Pixal was curious, but she’s already moved to Jay’s laptop. “Why do you ask so? Did your eye get hit sometime recently?”

Jay had flinched at the word ‘hit’, but shook his head at the word ‘recently’. Huh. Maybe it was phantom pains? Still, Pixal had run a diagnostic on it.

“I can’t seem to find any physical abnormalities, but if this is a case of phantom pain, over the counter pain relievers should work.”

Jay nodded whilst his eyes were blank seemingly off to another world or lost in his memories.

“Jay? Jay, can you hear me?” Pixal once again ran a diagnostic scan. It seems that Jay was slipping into dissociation. Dimming the lights in his room as well as all the screens the blue ninja had put into his room. Pixal started playing a calm Ninjago lofi mix from the speaker she was in. She gently called Jay’s name and he slipped back into reality.

“Jay, just take 2 doses of ibuprofen. They’re at the lowest shelf at the kitchen counter. If it hurts again, tell me and we’ll bring you to a professional.”

Jay who was nodding at the instructions froze at the thought of being taken to the hospital. Still, he slid off his bed and made his way downstairs. Pixal filtered through the electronic system of the temple, landing new the smart fridge and watched as Jay swallowed 2 pills dry.

It seemed to create some results because Jay stopped shivering and shaking. Pixal wondered if that was just a placebo or an actual effect. Still, watching Jay’s face relax in bliss, free from whatever pain that was bothering him, Pixal knew that she made the right call.

- Nya - S9, fight with SOG

It had been brutal. Pixal was just treating the training injuries Lloyd had when Skylor came into the noodle house, helping Nya to walk as her left arm dangled without any purpose. Immediately, Pixal stood up and took quick strides, scanning Nya for all her injuries.

“We were getting supplies when a bunch of Harumi’s goons jumped on us, we had to be quick so that none of them could call up for back up, when-“ “When- fuck, when this dude pulled out a fucking gun,” Nya said, pained and heaving as Skylor slowly helped her to sit on the training mat.

“So you were shot?” Lloyd’s voice came from behind Pixal as he took the medkit to the mat. Nya eyes looked everywhere but at him. Gesturing to her limp and bleeding arm, she gave up all her dignity. “Yeah, right here.”

“Okay, Nya, here, take these.” Lloyd handed her 2 tablets of ibuprofen and a cup of water. “W-what? No, I can’t take these!” Nya hissed in pain.

“Yes, you can!” “What if we need them later? What if one of us loses an arm or something happens where we have a worse injury?” “That does not matter, Nya. Look, I’ve been shot in Ninjago city before, I know how it feels.”

Pixal immediately flashes back to the nights where she had to help Lloyd through a computer screen, and her metallic fingers curled up. It was horrible, watching him choking down painkillers before trying to pull the bullet out himself. Never again.

“Nya, it would be alright, just take these- we can always go out to get more,” Pixal tried coaxing Nya to just swallow the pills.

“Take them or I’ll force you to take them, Water Ninja.” Skylor admonished. With the combined strength of their motley crew of 3, Nya hesitantly reached for the medicine, almost choking as she had swallowed too much water at one go.

“Okay, good, now we just need to pull the bullet out,” Lloyd reached into the medkit, pulling out a pair of tweezers. Pixal watched as his hands, fatigued from all the trains, couldn’t stop shaking.

“Wait, Lloyd, let me see if the bullet should be removed at all.” Pixal interrupted, taking a more in-depth scan at Nya’s shoulder. In the meantime, Lloyd started to check through Skylor, who said that he was all clear except for a few knuckle bruises. Of course, Pixal would check on her later, but now she had to make sure that Nya would be alright.

“The bullet has missed your major arteries and it actually isn’t in too deep, possibly because of the protection offered by your suit-“ “Just tell me when you’re gonna remove it!” Nya snapped as her brow furrowed in anticipation. “Well, let’s see… first, we need to remove the clothing around the area of the wound, which-“

“AHH!” Nya shrieked as Pixal twisted and pulled out the bullet without any warning. “Sorry Nya, sometimes fear of a thing could be greater than the actual danger that it poses,” Pixal explained as Nya stared at her with a look that could only scream betrayal.

Dropping the bullet to the ground, Pixal took up some disinfectant and sanitised the area around the entry wound. Nya hissed as Pixal gently presses a cotton gauze to stop the bleeding before finally applying some sort of disinfectant cream. She finished off the wound with a bandage around Nya’s arm, with extra padding using gauze at the point where the wound is at.

“Alright, so now you should not move this arm too much for the next few days, and in the next few weeks, you would not be able to raise it over your shoulder. But in a few months, you can use it again and in a year it would be pretty much healed up so that you may do your weight lifting sessions with- with Cole again…” Pixal said, starting brightly but dropping to a small whisper.

The mood suddenly went from cheery to depressive. “Remember to take lots of rest,” Pixal finished lamely. As Lloyd escorted Nya to the sleeping bags they had gathered, Skylor picked up the bullet Pixal had removed.

“Girl, you were quite mean back there,” Skylor began. “And I think that you’re cool. One problem- the pharmacies have not been able to continue business as normal. All the drugs have to be given to the Sons of Garmadon. In the meantime, all supply chains are disrupted. Over the counter medicine won’t be so easy to find. “

Pixal kept quiet. “Well, I’ll have to keep this bullet as a souvenir for Nya. FSM knows that she deserves this.”

Of course, the bullet would be lost later as they were hunted down throughout the city. But every time Nya changed into her swimsuit, Pixal could see the bullet wound. The scarring left wasn’t pretty, but Pixal thought that the courage Nya showed made her the most beautiful woman she’ll ever have the chance to meet.

- Cole- Cole was alive. Cole was alive!

Pixal watched as the Ninja went into a momentary stop before cheering and becoming more alive. She saw Nya pass the Scythe of Earth to Cole, who promptly swung it into the oncoming Oni. Pixal was trying her best to fend off the Oni herself, but her mind, or rather, motherboard, was spinning really, really fast. How did Cole survive? It should have been impossible!

Pixal heard that Cole justify his survival, stating that the Oni clouds must have broken his fall. He didn’t know how he wasn’t attacked at first, but many tendrils then came to attack him.

Still, this was impossible for Pixal to figure out. Was it because Cole had been a ghost? Maybe it was his elemental power protecting him? Or perhaps it was divine intervention? Either way, Pixal was going o scan him later if there was even a later.

“Watch out!” Pixal saw a blast of green hit the Oni in front of her. I can’t afford to get lost in thought now! Come on Samurai X, focus! She chided to herself.

Yet, as the battle once again turned tides, and the elemental masters got together to do the Tornado of Creation, Pixal watched from her position behind the holding doors to see Lloyd Garmadon get thrown out of the tornado, hitting his head with an earth-shattering crack as he collapsed against the walls of the monastery before debris-covered him.

Frantically approaching him, Pixal saw out of the corner of her eye that the rest of the ninja were left dizzy, exhausted, and possibly some having passed out. That was alright. It was time for her to do her duty anyways.

However, whilst lifting slabs of concrete, Pixal felt her heart drop. The calculated survival rate of the impact sent shivers down Pixal’s circuits as the percentage just kept. Dropping. Lower.

Heaving the last piece of concrete off the young bearer of green power, Pixal heard her teammates rushing into the scene. She could have warned them, said something, said anything. But her joints were frozen in place with something much colder than what her sensors had detected when she went into the Oni cloud.

The motley crew, now only 5, took the last piece of debris off from their teammate.

“Lloyd. Buddy, wake up,” Kai pleaded, desperate. “He-He's not moving!” Nya exclaimed, voice shaking as tears start to form. She looked at Pixal, asking for anything, anything at all. “Someone find Wu. Where’s Wu?” Cole ordered.

In no time, Master Wu arrived and lifted Lloyd’s arm, checking his pulse. He would find nothing there.

“You can do something, right? Right?!” Jay panicked. With a defeated look that Pixal knows is mirrored in her eyes, Wu shook his head and said, “There’s nothing to be done.” Nya finally cries out, sobbing. “Oh, Lloyd!”

PIxal wanted to cry as well, but she never could. When rebuilding her body, she had used the same blueprints that Cyrus Borg had with some upgrades. One thing she didn’t consider adding was the ability to cry because there wasn’t any time. She had to save Lloyd from the vermillion. But what she can’t save Lloyd from, was from an early- early- d… fate.

There’s nothing Pixal could do. And she felt hopeless.

She watched from the corner of her eye as Garmadon backed away from their small group, and in a flash, she felt her wires burning. She couldn’t just let him leave. Not after what he’s done.

Yet, just as she was about to boost straight towards the Oni and tackle him off the mountain, Lloyd started to cough. Lloyd. Started to cough.

Whipping around to see a golden petal float away, she watched the team cheer as Lloyd started to breathe. How- this was impossible! Pixal almost short-circuited from shock. There had been no way! No way! She didn’t even go through all 5 stages of grief yet.

And not too soon, Lloyd woke up from a sleep that she was sure that he never would.

Catching him mumbling something about the First Spinjitzu Master, Pixal smiled. Divine intervention had definitely happened at least once today. The first time being….

“Cole, please come with me to the med bay,” Pixal requested with a smile. Divine intervention or not, five-sixths of the Ninja team knows how to hide a serious injury, and she had to be certain. Cole, who looked shopped, resigned himself and walked with Pixal o the medical centre. For now, she trusted that Zane was doing all the scans that he could to make sure that Lloyd was right in the head, and sought out to take care of her own, albeit selfish, worries.

Scanning Cole on both sides, Pixal noticed a particular bad bruise on Cole’s spine. Yet falling from that height and the fact that Cole isn’t paralysed due to spinal injury made Pixal reaffirm her theories that the First Spinjitsu Master was alive, just in another realm.

“You know, Lloyd might have actually seen the First Spinjitsu Master,” Pixal began, which led Cole to choke on the water he was ordered to drink. “No way, he must have just hit his head hard…”

“I’m sorry Cole, but the injuries you have is comparable to sleeping on a rock hard bed for one night, not falling from a height of 500m, even if your fall was broken by the Oni cloud, you should still have been paralysed,” Pixal explained.

“So God is real and Lloyd’s sharing a fourth of his blood? Neat! Next time tell him to not scare us with a fake-out,” Cole brushed it off.

At this time Pixal was about the shutdown and delve deep into theorising. Lloyd technically had a fourth of his grandfather’s blood and possessed the same power, could he possible have powers that control life and death-

Yet, she watched as a steady stream of Ninja enter the medbay, and resolved her thoughts to her inner GPU. She can think later. For now, she had to make sure that everyone is okay, and everyone will be okay. Even if she threatens Loyd to shave his head so she can get a better look at his skull, to which a chase around the monastery ensued. Her family was alright for now, and the concerning mortality of humans was left deep in the recesses of her mind.

- Zane - Too soon, Pixal had to face her own mortality. Being a Nindroid, her lifespan would naturally be much longer than a Ninja’s. But she still could be erased, dismantled, destroyed, sent to another realm-

The days waiting for the group of 6, not 5, to come back were some of the hardest. Even though all Pixal wanted to do was to shut down, lie on her bed and stare into the picture they had taken on their first date, Pixal knew that the team was entrusting her to keep Ninjago safe. Even if it means recapturing escaped convicts. Even if it means fighting the… undead-dead Preeminent (Pixal still hasn’t figured out how she worked). And they had to find ways to reach the Never Realm, by going through different infusions of travellers tea.

Yet, all the waiting and longing was worth it. Pixal prefers a Zane stuck in another realm for 40 years as to no Zane. There was no other choice. Yet, as she sees her loved ones trudging out of the frosty realm, some of them had worst frost bites than others. Even though all Pixal wanted to do was to smother Zane in a hug, she can see the edges of Lloyd’s skin turning a deep, dark black. From the corner of her eyes, she can see Nya taking care of Cole whilst Jay and Kai attempt to remove the ice from everyone else, including lubricating Zane’s frosted joins. She had not a single moment to lose. This kind of frostbite was not exactly lethal immediately, but losing limbs could mean the end of Lloyd’s ninja career. So calling everyone to attention, she went all in to salvaging Lloyd’s limbs, doing everything she could.

Later that night, Pixal spotted Zane wandering around the outskirts of the monastery whilst the Ninja finish up dinner. She watched as Zane’s hands gripped the staff so tight that the wood would be snapping in 3…2…1.

A harsh crack and splinters flying out later, Pixal could see the shaking in Zane’s hands as he cursed, something that the Zane she knew never would.

For her, it had been a hellish week. But for Zane? It must have been a hellish 40 years.

“…Zane?” Pixal called out from the monastery doors. Zane immediately whipped around before pointing the tip of the staff towards her, to which Pixal reflectively grabbed. Zane, eyes widening in shock and horror, immediately released his grip on the now shorter staff, before turning around, trying to run away. Pixal won’t let that happen.

“Zane,” Pixal said once again, hand now gripping onto the collar of Zane’s Gi. “Please don’t run away from me.”

Zane, froze, hands twitching before dropping them to his side. Pixal released her grip before tapping Zane on the shoulder, asking him to turn around.

“Pixal, I’m- I’m sorry…I just can’t- I can’t trust myself right now,” Zane vented out hands fidgeting with each other. Pixal smiled sadly. She knew that not everything could go back to normal so fast, but still, she had hoped that it would have been easier than this. “If you don’t trust yourself right now, why not spend some time with me?”

“Pixal- I…I could hurt you-“ “Yes you can, but don’t think that I can’t protect myself,” Pixal snapped back whilst carefully reaching to hold Zane’s hands. Once she made contact, Zane flinched back, before slowly reciprocating the action. “C’mon Zane, let’s go back into the monastery-“

“No!” Zane protested, wrenching Pixal back. Pixal clasped her other hand on top of Zane’s. “Not to the dining room. I’m thinking med bay.”

Pixal could see Zane’s processing unit cycle through his thoughts, noticing that it had considerable frost damage. Before long, Zane nodded his head, allowing Pixal to pull him into the light.

Opening the cupboards, Pixal took out a few rolls of bandages before carefully wrapping them around Zane’s hands. The ice ninja watched with curiosity as Pixal carefully finished tying and tightening the strips of cloth.

“Why are you doing this? You and I both know that Nindroids don’t need bandages,” Zane asked. Pixal smiled, looking at Zane’s now steadier hands. “Maybe bandages can’t fix our metal skin, but it still makes us feel better.”

Zane paused, looking down at his hands. “I don’t know how you’re right PIx, but they do make me feel more sure that my powers won’t hurt anyone accidentally. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now let’s get back to dinner, we have some desserts to bring out.”

Bandages. As much as PIxal uses them and finds them efficient, she can’t help but hope that team doesn’t need to use as many. But this time, t’s just a trip to a legendary city full of peace and prosperity. Maybe this time, Pixal doesn’t need to bandage their wounds away.

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izzabeean · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 5 : Impulse

SUMMARY

You've learned something you wish you didn't about Ushijima and now you wish you could forget.

pairing : ushjima x f!reader / oikawa x f!reader / iwaizumi x f!reader

genre : angst + fluff

word count : 2,836

tags : alternate universe - college/university, post-break up, friends to lovers, pining, slow burn

a/n : What can I say, Y/N has a bit of a sweet tooth! I mean if I spent a day in the city you bet I would be eating a lot of food. Or is that just me? Anyway, I am happy with how this turned out! The next chapter is going to be so fun!

Will try to post every Thursday evening PST, if not latest by Friday.

Hope you're enjoying the series so far!

masterlist

<< prev | ch . 5 | next >>

Today sucks.

After last night, you didn’t think it could get any worse, but you were so wrong. The sliver of hope that today was going to be a bit better quickly vanished in a matter of seconds leaving your heart even more shattered than you thought was possible.

So why?

Why is it that you saw the person you’d love the most with a girl you’d never seen before? As much as you wish it weren’t so, the evidence is right in front of you no matter how many times you try to push the image away.

Staring down at your soft serve ice cream, nearly melted, you let out a big sigh trying to repress the tears wanting to form. You wish your favorite flavor of frozen dessert could solve all your problems, alas, the rich creamy flavors only remind you of a date you had with Ushijima…

“It’s never too cold for ice cream,” you spout, arms linked with Ushijima marching your way to your favorite ice cream shop. It was this particular spot that made you realize Ushijima is more than what you’ve ever wanted in your life. You’d been dating for six months now, a new record in your love life, also a big surprise you haven’t tired him out with your nonsense.

Instead of arguing whether a cold dessert was an appropriate snack in the winter, he just let out a deep sigh in reply knowing you’re not going to be convinced otherwise.

“Don’t give me that,” you holler, covering your face in your hands, refusing to look at Ushijima.

Gently, he grabs your hands pulling them away from your face giving you a little kiss on the cheek in apology for his teasing.

“Y/N.”

Oikawa’s voice pulls you out of your bitter memory back to sitting across from him at a cafe. Your heart drops, realizing that there will not be any more moments like that with Ushijima. Did everything always remind you of him this much?

“You’re ice cream,” Oikawa says, eyes locked on to the dessert dripping on your hand.

Quickly you get up from the table grabbing some napkins to wipe up the mess you’ve made which resonates with you very well at this point. Not only are you emotionally a mess, apparently now you can’t even physically get a hold of yourself. Emotional pain is just temporary, yes, yet there’s this overwhelming feeling that makes you think your entire world is closing in on you.

In the process of cleaning up the sticky residue, you let out a growl noticing it’s dripped onto your palish pants producing a humiliating colored stain. You start pressing on the fabric in hopes your mishap would magically disappear… It doesn’t.

Oikawa peers down at your pants attempting to conceal his chuckle with a titter.

“It’s not funny,” you rasp.

But Oikawa can’t stop himself from bursting into a loud guffaw resulting in a free-flowing of tears.

Completely exasperated by the chaos, you throw out what’s left of your liquefied treat and sit back at the table covering your face with your hands. You didn’t feel in a rush to embarrass yourself more by strutting around the city with a large smudge of ice cream on your pants.

Once Oikawa gains his composure, he takes his jacket off and passes it to you across the table.

“You can hold this to cover it,” he offers.

The gesture feels loaded, like the true intent is much more devious than that, especially since he seemed to find it so amusing. There’s no way Oikawa could perform such gracious acts of kindness.

“Take it,” he says.

“Aren’t you going to be cold?” You reply, shoving the coat away with your hands.

Oikawa shrugs, “I’ll be fine.”

Giving in to his persistency, you take the jacket. “Thank you,” you breathe.

You watch Oikawa straighten out his shirt and fix his hair as a couple of girls walk by giggling, smiling at him, one even gives a little wave. It puzzles you how Oikawa can be such a dreamboat, from your years of friendship, his reputation borderlines annoying and childish, but the little gestures he’s made today have really made you rethink; this was a side to Oikawa you’ve never seen before.

On your way back to the train station, you look out toward the horizon and see the sun setting; pinks and oranges fill the sky, and the sight before you is quite romantic. The scene itself ended up turning out to be soothing despite the alarming encounter from earlier.

Now your new reality is finally setting in where there’s no Ushijima.

“I don’t want to go home,” you utter.

Oikawa studies you with your head hanging low. The glow of the sun coats you in its gleaming rays, he wasn’t sure if he was imagining things but he noticed the light capture a shimmer of a single tear tracking down your cheek. Then it finally resonates with him: you're not okay.

“Wish I could get out of these pants though,” you laugh. Then just like that, you revert to a smile.

“Let’s take you out,” Oikawa says.

“Out? Like to a club?” You didn’t fully expect any sort of resolution from Oikawa, your comment was meant to be rhetorical.

“Yeah! You, me, and Iwa! We never go together and it will be good for you to go out to have some fun!”

“I don’t know about that,” you sigh.

Oikawa’s eyes widen, the look on his face is full of excitement basically begging you to say yes. He must know you’re feeling vulnerable because it doesn’t take a moment more of hesitation to.

------

When Oikawa said he was going to take you out, he really meant it. The nightclub is lavish as loud music pulses in your chest while crowds of people huddle around the bar and scatter across the dance floor.

Oikawa could be considered an avid clubber, how could he not be when he is so popular with girls, and had always tried to convince you to join him. You never really have, but you’ve also never really had your heartbroken to this degree.

“It’s about to get even more crowded,” Oikawa yells into your ear.

10:13 pm on a Saturday evening and it’s going to get busier? Oh god.

Crowds aren’t your thing. Clubs aren’t your thing. Drinking isn’t really your thing. What are you even doing here?

“Shots?” Oikawa suggests pointing to the bar.

Your stomach churns at the thought. Diving into the night with shots seems excessive; they always leave a bitter taste in your mouth and the strong smell makes you want to gag. You wanted a drink to ease you into the evening...

“6 shots of Jäger,” Oikawa orders.

Maybe not so much tonight.

The bartender retrieves the alcohol and brings back six shot glasses, each filled to the rim of dark liquor. Holding the shot glass up to your face, the potent smell makes your nose scrunch. With a cheers, you throw back the alcohol and the sensation burns your throat; it’s awful. Knowing there’s a second shot waiting, you don't delay the inevitable.

“Someone’s eager,” Oikawa purrs watching you down the second shot.

The corners of your mouth turn down as the hairs on your back stand up. You let out an ick and turn to Oikawa and Iwaizumi who are both in awe of your tenacity. Truthfully, you were shocked too. Then all the tension in your body seems to disperse, from the day, from entering the nightclub. You finally feel relaxed.

“Am I going to be waiting for you all night? Or what?” You tease eyeing their untouched liquor.

Both men look at each other and take the shot in one gulp. Calling over the bartender you order another round, this time they’re a lot easier to take.

“You’re really not playing around,” Iwaizumi teases, impressed that you’re able to down three shots in a matter of minutes upon entering the venue.

Shifting your gaze to Iwaizumi, he looks so hot in his black button-up shirt with the top two buttons undone. A warm feeling fills your chest, you didn’t know if it was the alcohol hazing your perception or you were genuinely starting to crush on him.

Damn it, you think to yourself while your eyes continue to linger on him.

Considering your current situation, the smart thing to do here would be to do nothing. On the other hand, you couldn’t help that your heart fluttered in Iwaizumi’s presence. Surely, he didn’t realize the meaning behind his words but it brought you lower into the sort of absolution that you were definitely forming a rebound crush on him. But you couldn’t let yourself. Of course, if you did, you were bound to hurt Iwaizumi and your friendship with Oikawa. You had to stop yourself before it was too late.

Oikawa’s eyes fall onto you, noticing your ogling. You seem to illuminate with this glow he hasn’t seen all day and for a split second, he is fueled with irritation at the sight. But catches his outward anger and pushes it down, gaining composure.

------

Keeping up with Oikawa for most of the night was a bad idea. Certainly, it didn’t occur to you until you stumble into the bathroom all by yourself, realizing you were most definitely unable to stand straight without help.

Check yourself out in the mirror, you pull out your phone to take a raunchy selfie. You smirk at yourself checking the photo before posting it to your social media story.

That will show him, you think, hopeful Ushijima will see the image you’ve posted. He’s not the only one who can have fun.

Before even pressing “post” you get a text from Oikawa asking where you are. You giggle as you type come find me and press send with the intention of finding him first.

As you leave the bathroom, you begin to scan the crowd for Oikawa or Iwaizumi trying to recollect where you last saw them. The crowds of people in the vicinity make it practically impossible and the further you walk into the nightclub, the louder the music gets, the brighter the lights are, the warmer your body feels.

All you wanted to do was get out.

Stepping outside, there’s this instant relief from the crisp evening air although it doesn’t last long, and soon a violent shiver courses through you. Turning around to go back inside the bouncer stops you then points to what seems like an endless line of people.

“B-but, I-I just need to get my jacket,” you stammer.

“Sorry, ma’am. You’re going to have to wait in line,” he booms.

Your outward calmness cracks, too anxious to even think up an excuse. You needed to find Oikawa or Iwaizumi and you need to find them now!

You turn your attention back to your phone as you begin to type out a text to come meet you outside the club.

“Hey sweet cheeks,” a raspy voice calls out.

You look up and see a rough-looking guy in line making intense eye contact with you. Normally you don’t judge, but your drunk bordering wasted self notes this man was very sketchy and it’s best to avoid him. So you turn your back to him and call Oikawa instead.

“Hey don’t ignore me,” he yells.

You start walking in the opposite direction from the line as far away from the stranger as possible. You’re a bit worried he can still see you and slip into an alley beside the nightclub, the phone still ringing on the other end.

“Pick up. Pick up. Pick up!!” You mutter into the receiver. Oikawa doesn’t, so you try again.

“I don’t like being ignored, sweet cheeks.” The same raspy voice makes you jump as you turn around to see the scraggly man backlit by fluorescent streetlights, only making his appearance more menacing.

The call goes to Oikawa’s voicemail again.

“Guess your friend ditched ya,” he continued walking closer to you. The statement sobers you up as his aura escalates to a more threatening demeanor.

“They said they’ll just be out,” you squeal.

“Yeah?” The stranger keeps shortening the distance every step. “Why don’t you come with me?”

He’s so close now that you can smell his disgusting breath and you start to panic. “I-I can’t, I’m waiting for someone, th-thank you though.”

Why the fuck did you say thank you? Your brain screams at you.

“Oh come on sweet cheeks,” he coaxes, reaching out to clasp on to your wrist. “I’ll show you a good time.”

Your body freezes at his touch. It stings as a sharp pain from his grip makes you want to scream or cry, but the shock was melting your ability to. You felt so useless and timid in times of distress. You didn’t know what to do, you couldn’t escape searing clutches of--

“What do you think you’re doing?” A deep voice thunders.

The stranger turns to see the culprit and you slowly glance to see Iwaizumi with an intimidating aura protruding from him.

“Just having a nice talk,” the stranger purrs, tightening his grip more and you let out a little yelp.

“Is that what this is? She looks pretty scared to me,” Iwaizumi retorts.

“This’ none of your business kid,” the stranger rages.

“Actually it is,” he demands stepping closer. “Let go of her.”

A vein on Iwaizumi’s neck pops out as his hands start to ball into fists. Now the stranger is intensely regretting his choice and you can sense it from the fact he’s visibly shaking. You are nearly on the verge of tears from the pain in your wrist and wonder if he was going to break it.

“Let go,” Iwaizumi orders again.

And this time he does, the man, nothing but a weak buffoon, frees your wrist and walks off in a trudge.

“You okay?” Iwaizumi walks over to you to take a look at your wrist.

You nod, letting out a deep exhale trying to hide how petrified you were while holding your wrist.

“Does it hurt,” he asks, gently applying pressure to it. “Let me take a look.”

Initially, you flinch at his touch, afraid the searing pain will return, instead, his fingertips lightly trace your wrist while analyzing it thoroughly.

“Let me take you to a hospital to be sure.”

“No, no,” you breathe, locking eyes with him. “I’m fine, just a little sore.

Iwaizumi’s face flickers with a bit of uncertainty but decides not to push it and lets go of your wrist to take out a cigarette.

“Fuck,” you hiss. You felt like an idiot for going off on your own, for drinking this much, for going out at all. “I’m sorry.”

Deeply inhaling the smoke, he turns to you, “For what?”

“For running off by myself, and you totally just saving my ass. It’s just… pathetic,” you exclaim, reverting eye contact with him-- you’re slightly embarrassed and his silence is only telling, considering you barely know each other. “I swear to god, I’m not normally like this.”

“It’s not pathetic,” he states, shrugging his shoulders. “Oikawa says you’re dealing with shit.”

Your reaction isn’t short of an embarrassment. His words hurt you as the scenario of Oikawa telling Iwaizumi about your break-up fills your mind. You scoff. “I’m fine!”

“You’re a horrible liar.” Iwaizumi didn’t have a problem calling you out as you stared at him after a few moments of silence.

“So what am I supposed to tell him?” you mutter, this surge of anger sweeps over you, you feel this swell of rage boiling inside. “That it’s ok to see my ex, not even a day broken-up with a new girl? It’s fucking bullshit!”

He turns to look at you and blinks at your reaction. The sudden unexpected word vomit makes you pause.

“Sorry… I didn’t mean to take it out on you,” you whisper. “It’s just weird, you know, all of it. I didn’t expect to be blindsided like that. It’s just…” You look over to Iwaizumi listening intently to you and feel your face grow hot. “Oh my god, I’m sorry! You never asked.”

It’s awkward and quiet, you’re pretty sure Iwaizumi can feel it too. You’re puzzled with what to say and feel pressured to express a less depressing answer. You didn’t want to drop the mood of the evening. In those moments, it became apparent you needed to sober up.

“Can I have one?” you ask.

He looks at you with wide eyes, “You smoke?”

You take out your lighter that you have stowed away in your purse flaunting it as evidence of your new bad habit. Iwaizumi tosses you the pack of smokes.

“You’re not going to tell on me, are you?” You’re trying to sound like you’re joking but a hint of worry seeps through and you’re left waiting for a serious response from him.

“Your secret’s safe with me.”

#haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru #oikawa x y/n #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime

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master-sass-blast · 4 years ago

Text

Gifted.

*tosses escapism fic into the void* yeet.

Summary: You and Piotr go Christmas shopping and enjoy the holiday season.

That's it. That's all that's happening. You're welcome.

Pairing(s): Piotr Rasputin x Reader and mentioned Illyana Rasputin x Kitty Pryde.

Rating: G.

Word Count: 2k precisely.

Set after “It’s Truly Magical.”

A/N: On the off-chance someone asks or is worried, yes, there are no mentions of masks or social distancing in this fic. That's because, in this fic, there is no COVID (ergo, no need for masks and such). I'm just not dealing with it in my fanfic as well. I won't. You can't make me.

Wear your fucking masks irl pls and thank u.

Taglist: @marvel-is-perfection, @chromecutie, @girl-obsessed-with-things, @super-darkcloudstudent, @dandyqueen, @leo-writer

“What a bright time, it's the right time/ To rock the night away/ Jingle bell time is a swell time/ To go glidin' in a one-horse sleigh…”

You inhale deeply, then smile. The smells of fresh pretzels and pine –the latter is likely a fake scent that the stores use, but it’s still good—tantalize your nose. You tuck your hat and gloves in your purse, then look over at your husband. “Where all are we going?”

“Ah…” Piotr scans his list –which has notes on which stores to check and what order the stores are laid out in the mall, so as to streamline things. “Kitty said she did not want gifts because she does not celebrate Christmas, so we are just shopping for… my family and Russell. You said you already bought gifts for your dad and Wade?”

“Yup,” you say with a grin. Nate’s easy to shop for –ammo, clothes, and the odd book or two are usually all he want—and for Wade you just find the weirdest stuff listed on Amazon. “And I already sent my uncle a gift from us, so we don’t have to worry about him.”

Piotr nods, ‘hmm-ing’ as he makes a note on his list. “Okay.” He mumbles in Russian under his breath, then says, “Mama had no list this year; I think we start with her first since figuring out gift will take longer.”

“That’s fine. Where should we start?”

“I think bookstore is best bet. From there, we can stop by Hot Topic and candle shop for snezhinka, then Game Stop for Mikhail.”

“Sounds good.” You link your arm through his and smile up at him. “Lead the way, babe.”

***

You glance between the piles of books on the table, then at your husband, who looks like he’s about to pull his hair out. “Do you think that, just maybe, you’re overthinking this? Just a little?”

“This is important,” Piotr insists as he skims through books from various areas of Barnes and Noble –cooking, history, fiction; he’d grabbed at least one book from nearly every section. “She has specific tastes. Cannot be just any old book.”

You purse your lips together. You don’t doubt that Alexandra has particular tastes in reading material –as a woman from her walk in life is bound to have—but you’re also certain that she wouldn’t want her son driving himself insane just to pick a present for her. You sit down next to Piotr and gently put your hand on his arm. “Sweetheart. She’s going to like whatever you get her.”

“Not necessarily. I have seen her toss many books aside with scoff and never pick them up again.”

“Okay, why?”

He shrugs. “Realism. She thinks some authors are ‘too indulgent’ or ‘too unrealistic.’”

“Alright, so maybe we leave out the crime and romance stuff,” you suggest, setting the few books he’d grabbed from those areas aside. “What does she like to do?”

Piotr goes quiet. His expression grows ashen as he contemplates the question. “I… don’t know.”

“Does she like to cook? Or draw? Or watch certain types of shows or movies?”

“I don’t know,” he repeats, more insistent. “She…” He sighs. “She never sits still. I don’t think any shows or movies interest her. When I was child, she always worked. On farm, taking care of animals, helping workers, making food, balancing accounts, translating letters and schoolwork… I never saw her rest. Do something for herself.”

You let out a soft snort. “Maybe a book on meditation.”

Piotr rolls his eyes, grinning. “Perhaps not.”

“Who does she like to be around, then?”

“Otets.” Piotr smiles when the answer comes easily. “She and my father” –he holds up two crossed fingers—“are like this. Aside from siblings and me, I think he is only person she is really close to.”

“Alright, maybe a cookbook, then. That’d give them something to do together.”

Piotr nods, then starts looking through the cookbooks he’d picked. “Question is, which one?”

“Well, we know she likes to stay busy and keep moving. Maybe something that’d challenge their skills? Something they haven’t tried?” You hold up a book boasting ‘rich and authentic Middle Eastern recipes.’ “This could be good. I think they’d have access to most of the ingredients, here in New York.”

He nods again, then sets the aforementioned book aside before checking over the other ones. “I think…” He lifts a hardcover thriller novel off the table. “She likes mysteries. This one has good reviews… maybe…”

You gently take the book from his hands and set it atop the Middle Eastern cookbook. “I think it’s a great choice.”

He smiles, then kisses your cheek. “Spasibo, myshka.”

***

“Bozhe moi.”

You giggle as the two of you step over the threshold of the Yankee Candle store, only for Piotr to recoil and take a step back. “You good there, baby?”

He presses his fingers against the sides of his nose. “Is like… assault of smells.”

“I know.” You inhale deeply, them flash him an impish smile. “Isn’t it great?”

Piotr groans, still rubbing his sinuses. “Do you mind—”

“I’ll find a candle for Illyana. Wanna meet up in Gamestop?”

“Spasibo, dorogoy.”

You blow him a kiss, then head into the candle store. You take a couple minutes to peruse the holiday display at the front of the store –and grab a couple votives for you and Piotr to enjoy—before heading towards the back of the store, where all the shelves of their regular candles are. You pause to smell your favorites –seriously, the McIntosh apple one never fails to make your mouth water—before taking a step back to survey your options. Alright, what to get for a mildly angsty, queer Russian goth?

It’s not as straightforward as it sounds (har har). Illyana’s an enigma, much like her mother. She’s quiet, keeps to herself, and doesn’t usually bother with convention.

Do I go for aesthetic? You pick up a pitch black candle labeled “Midnight Forest” and give it a cursory sniff. Ugh, smells like ass. No, thank you.

You also have to consider that whatever you get is likely going to be smelled by Kitty, too. As much as Illyana marches to the beat of her own drum, she’s surprisingly conscientious of her bubbly, energetic girlfriend.

Maybe something natural? Like the farm? You try a few options, wrinkling your nose after each sniff. God, what is it with the fresh scents and smelling heinous? You debate texting Piotr and dragging him back in here, if only so you’re certain you’ll get something Illyana would like—

And then it hits you over the head like a brick.

She’s gonna use these for meditation. You head down the rows of shelves, grab a jar labeled “Vanilla,” and give it a smell. Perfect. Not too strong, not too bland. You grab a lavender scented tumbler (for relaxation), then snag a pink one that smells like the perfume Kitty favors on a hunch it’ll be a hit.

By the time you pay for yours and Illyana’s candles, Piotr’s already waiting outside the Gamestop for you, bag in hand.

He eyes your bulging bags, eyebrow raising in trepidation. “Why…”

“Look, it’s your fault for abandoning me,” you say before he can point out your lack of self-control. “You know I’m weak for candles.”

Piotr snorts, then sighs. “Fair enough.” He nods and makes approving noises when you show him the picks you made for Illyana, then shows you what he grabbed for Mikhail.

“‘Mister Mosquito?’” You nearly double over laughing. “What even is this?”

“He wanted ‘weird video game,’” Piotr says, shrugging one shoulder. “I figure this should do.”

“He’s gonna love it,” you reassure your husband. “That’s weird as shit.” You start strolling along the main hall of the mall –and then your stomach rumbles. “Can we get pretzels?”

“Da, myshka,” Piotr chuckles, “we can get pretzels.”

***

“There'll be parties for hosting/ marshmallows for toasting/ and caroling out in the snow/ there'll be scary ghost stories/ and tales of the glories of/ Christmases long, long ago…”

“It’s the most! Wonderful time! Of the year!” you sing along as you rip another chunk off your pretzel. You smile to yourself as you admire the glittering, twinkling decorations decking the food court. “How’s your pretzel?”

“Very tasty.” Piotr dips a bite of his pretzel in some mustard, pops it in his mouth, then swallows before wiping his fingers on a napkin. “I think we only have handful of stops left.”

“Couple of sweaters for your dad… weird socks and-or scarves for Mikhail…” You lean over, reading off the list in his hand (which is written in a mixture of Russian and English). You take another bite of pretzel, then tap on a portion of blended “Russi-nglish” that you can’t decipher. “What’s that?” you ask once your mouth is clear.

“Random gift options,” he translates. “For filling out presents, stockings, that sort of thing.” He touches the tip of his index finger to the page, moving down the list in order. “Chocolate, books, gift cards. Guaranteed hits, essentially.”

“Ooh, I could go for some chocolate.”

Piotr snorts. “You just had pretzel. And this is for others, myshka.”

“If it’s in the car with me, I make no promises.”

He laughs, then makes an extra note on his list. “Safety chocolate… for myshka. Got it.”

***

“Here, dorogoy.”

“Oh, thank you!” You smile as Piotr takes some of the excess bags from your hands, shifting them so he can carry them (which, with his strength and the size of his hands, is no problem at all). You amble along next to him, admiring the various pop-up stands boasting games, calendars, and Christmas-themed treats. “Is there anywhere else we need to stop?”

“I believe we have everything.”

“And I’m guessing we need to head home so we can make dinner?”

“That would be best, da.” Piotr looks down at you, expression curious. “Why? There is somewhere you wish to stop?”

“Eh, not really,” you say with a shrug. “I just like coming to the mall during this time of year. The decorations, the music, the extra stands and seasonal gifts… It just makes me happy.”

“Aah, khorosho. I understand. We can come back later for date, if you like. Take time to walk around and admire stores.”

You grin up at him. “I’d like that.”

The two of you make to head out of the mall, back to the parking lot—

And then Piotr veers towards the right.

“Where are we going?” you ask, giggling as he leads you towards the bookstore. “I thought we already got everything we needed from here?”

He winks at you. “Trip is not complete yet. Not with hot chocolate, anyway.”

You grin and let him guide you over to the café in the bookstore.

Piotr gets you situated at a table near the expanse of windows at the front of the shop. He leaves your bags with you, then leads up at the counter to order your drinks.

You smile, lovestruck as you gaze over at him. How did I get so lucky? You lean back in your seat, taking a moment to admire the snow falling outside before checking out the decorations throughout the store…

Which is when you realize that there’s mistletoe hanging over your table.

You chuckle to yourself. Perfect.

“You are in good mood,” Piotr comments as he returns with two cups of hot chocolate.

“Of course, I am,” you admit with a broad grin. “I’ve got you. And tradition’s on our side.”

Piotr’s smile turns quizzical. He cocks his head to the side, staring at you for a moment, then looks up when you point towards the ceiling. “Ah,” he chuckles, “yes. That is good reason to be happy.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” You hook your finger under the collar of his shirt and gently tug him towards you. “Come here, handsome.”

He lets out a soft, happy giggle and bends down to kiss you.

#sass writes #piotr rasputin x reader #colossus x reader #holiday fluff #i miss going outside #which never happens so like #fml #don't mind the sounds of despair coming from my general direction #just use the fluff to drown it out #just like how i am #also kitty is jewish and thus doesn't observe christmas #i will die on this fucking hill :)#x men fanfiction #deadpool fanfiction

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iclaimedtobethebetterbard · 4 years ago

Text

it was always you (falling for me) - chapter 2

Fandom: Sanders Sides Characters: All the sides Rating: Teen & up (for swearing) Relationships: Prinxiety, Moceit, and QPR Intrulogical (eventually this will develop into Intrulosleep!) Warnings: Language; Remus being Remus; Shakespeare fans will probably hate my interpretation(s) of the plays I reference here, if the English major friend I showed this to is anything to go by, and I’m very sorry about that 😂 Word Count: 9042

Read on AO3!

My writing masterpost

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Summary: In a world where you and your soulmate swap dreams once a month, seven young adults enter the same college as freshmen. Each of them is wondering when they’ll find their soulmate and what that will mean for them.

Notes: Secret Santa gift for sanders-sides-fics!

Chapter 2

Roman had a problem. A person-shaped problem. Specifically, a problem shaped like his brother’s excessively pretty roommate, who seemed to take pleasure exclusively in needling Roman every chance they got.

Roman groaned, burying his face in one of the pillows on his bed.

“Hm?” his roommate, Patton, said sympathetically.

“I swear Virgil has, like, an agenda against soulmates, or something,” Roman said, rolling over and staring despairingly at the ceiling.

“Now, kiddo, I’m sure that’s not true.”

Roman lifted his head to look at Patton. “Aren’t I older than you?”

“Only by a few months,” Patton said serenely. “Spiritually, you’re my kiddo.”

“Pat, that makes no sense.”

Patton blinked up at him with a too-innocent face. “If it feels dad to you, just don’t think about it any father.”

“Oh my god.”

Patton giggled, a noise of pure delight, then circled back to Roman’s original topic. “What makes you think he’s got something against soulmates?”

“Uh, the way ze rails against them at every opportunity, for a start?” Roman sat up. “We have argued five times in the last two weeks about soulmates, and only three of them were even about Shakespeare like usual!”

“Haven’t you only known Virgil for, like, three weeks?”

“Well, yes, but that’s not the point.” Roman climbed down the ladder to the ground. “Also, I feel like that makes it worse?”

“Hmm, maybe.” Patton seemed amused. “You talk about them a lot, you know?”

“He’s so annoying!” Roman said defensively. “Ze gets this stupid smirk like ze knows something I don’t and he doesn’t even seem to care about constructing sound arguments half the time!” He put his laptop into his backpack.

“Going somewhere?” Patton asked.

“Yeah, Virgil and Remus invited me over to their dorm to study.”

“Oh,” Patton said, a funny sort of look on his face like he was trying not to laugh.

“What?” Roman asked.

“Nothing, nothing.” Patton waved him away, still smiling to himself. “Have fun studying with Virgil.”

“I will,” Roman said brightly, heading out the door.

***

“I want to go get ice cream,” Remus announced suddenly, hopping to his feet. “Who’s coming with?” It was late, almost midnight, and Roman was sitting on the floor in what had been a nice triangle with Remus and Virgil until Remus had stood. The three of them had been alternately working on homework and arguing about Disney characters.

“Sure,” Virgil said with a shrug, tugging their hoodie up onto their shoulders—they’d been wearing it dangling off their body, with only their wrists in the sleeves holding it on. “Let me fix my eyeliner first, though.”

Remus nodded distractedly, looking around the room and turning in a circle.

“Whatcha looking for?” Roman inquired, getting to his feet as well.

“My wallet,” Remus said, gaze still roving around. “I don’t know where I—”

“By your chapstick,” Roman said.

“Ah!” Remus dove under his desk, scrabbled on the floor, and emerged with his wallet clutched triumphantly in one hand and his chapstick in the other. “Thank you.”

“How the fuck did you know that?” Virgil asked, turning away from the mirror hung on the door with their eyeliner in their hand. They’d reapplied it to one eye, in a perfect, pointed wing; the other eye still had the only slightly less perfect, barely faded wing they’d been wearing this whole time. It matched their black lipstick and the carefully blended eyeshadow on their upper eyelids.

“He put it down there when he was telling the story about trying to collect dried gum off the street,” Roman explained. “And the chapstick was already there right next to it. So that’s how I remembered.”

Remus nodded. “I would have gotten there in a minute, probably,” he agreed.

“I still don’t understand how the fuck you knew that, but good for y’all, I guess,” Virgil said, turning back to the mirror.

“ADHD solidarity,” Roman explained.

Remus made finger guns at him, nodding. “ADHD solidarity,” he agreed.

Virgil paused halfway through drawing the other wing on. “Oh, that makes sense.” They picked up the line again, their hand perfectly steady, drawing it out to a fine point. “I thought you said you were autistic?” they added after a moment, their face holding perfectly still as they filled in the eyeliner with a practiced hand; their monolid eyelids allowed them to draw the wings of their eyeliner wide and dramatic.

“Yeah, I’m both. There are high rates of comorbidity, and also they’re both genetic, so neurodivergence runs in families,” Roman explained, the sentence rolling out of his mouth without him stumbling over the words once or having to think about it at all. “Did you know about ten percent of the population is probably ADHD?” he went on eagerly. “It’s super underdiagnosed. Especially because of race and gender biases in doctors who diagnose it, and the misconception that it’s only something children have. I only got diagnosed because Remus did when we were little, and we’re twins, so then they tested me too. Even though we aren’t identical. It’s super frequent for identical twins to both have ADHD if one of them has it, though.” Roman bounced on the balls of his feet, tapping the tip of his finger against his thumb. “I wish we were identical, I think it’d be so funny. Like, impersonating each other, and things. We could make such good video skits.”

“We make fantastic video skits already,” Remus protested.

“Okay, fair. But you know what I mean. And we could switch places for a day and see who noticed. All the stuff twins do in stories. Twins are always identical in stories, it’s so annoying, I wish there were more stories with fraternal twins.” Roman paused for a second, his mind hovering for an instant between a not-fully-realized train of thought about the gender politics of twin representation in stories and the question of what animals were most likely to have twins. He chose, almost before he was aware there was a choice, the animals question, his emotions nudging him away from the energy talking about gender representation would take up. “Do you think kittens dream?” he asked, only a second or two after he’d stopped talking in the first place.

“Yeah, probably,” Remus responded without missing a beat, likely following his train of thought. “Better question, do other animals have soulbonds, and how do they know if so?”

“Maybe it’s a scent thing,” Roman said thoughtfully.

“Ooh, like with glands or some shit?” Remus looked thoughtful. “That could make sense. I wonder—I bet there’s answers on the internet. I’m going to look this up later. Are you coming, too, by the way? To get ice cream?”

Roman thought it over. “Sure,” he agreed.

“I’m ready,” Virgil announced, capping their eyeliner and setting it down on hir desk. “Also, I got whiplash about five times just listening to that conversation.”

“Good, my chaos is overtaking another victim and soon I shall rule the world. Let’s go!” Remus led the other two out the door and started walking towards the end of campus.

“Where are we going, exactly?” Roman inquired, shoving his hands into the pockets of his red letterman jacket to keep them warm.

“There’s an ice cream shop that’s open till one in the morning about ten minutes away walking,” Remus said over his shoulder. “Logan and I found it the first weekend here.”

“You two went in search of sweets without me?” Roman put a hand to his heart. “I’m hurt,” he declared in his most dramatic voice.

“Oh, shut up, we would have gotten around to telling you about it eventually. I mean, I’m telling you right now, so.” Remus shrugged. “Virge, aren’t you cold?”

“Yeah, but I’m pretty, so it’s worth it,” Virgil said, tossing their head so the long hair on the top of their undercut swished. They were wearing a distressed band tee and a black skater skirt over fishnet leggings and a pair of doc martens. It was quite chilly out, and even though they were wearing a hoodie too, Roman understood why Remus had been concerned.

“You are very pretty,” Roman told them seriously. Even aside from their clearly carefully chosen outfit, this was true. Their eyes were round and curious and a captivating shade of dark brown. Even with the boost from the platform of the shoes they were wearing, they were tiny. Roman was sure they couldn’t be more than 5’2” without the boots. The hair on top of their undercut was very long, almost down to their waist, contrasting with the closely-shaved back and sides of their head. About six inches on the ends of their hair were dyed purple. Their makeup, of course, was flawless, as was their golden-brown skin, which was just a little bit darker than Roman’s. He made a mental note to ask them about their skincare routine sometime; no matter how much care he treated his skin with, the acne on his cheeks refused to go away. It was his least favorite side effect of taking testosterone. “But you can be pretty and warm at the same time, if you want. I hate being cold. But I respect your decision to be pretty and cold if you want to,” he added quickly.

Virgil let out a slightly nervous laugh, rubbing the back of their neck. “Thanks, I think.” Their eyes widened as they looked past him. “Oh, my god, Remus, shut up!”

“What?” Roman asked, looking over at Remus, who was giving Virgil an evil grin.

“Nothing,” Virgil snapped.

“I didn’t say anything,” Remus said innocently.

“Shut up!” Virgil repeated, flipping the hood of their hoodie up and dragging it over their face.

“What’s going on?” Roman asked, confused, while Remus burst into cackles of laughter.

“Nothing!” Virgil repeated with great emphasis.

Roman let out a sigh of frustration, but Virgil seemed genuinely upset about whatever Remus had done when Roman wasn’t looking, so he dropped it. Maybe Remus would explain later.

Remus did not explain later; however, he did turn around to walk backwards after the silence had stretched on long enough to become awkward. “Is the ocean a soup? Discuss,” he commanded.

“Oh, not this again!” Roman groaned. “No, absolutely not!”

“Yes,” Virgil said, almost as soon as Roman stopped talking.

“No!” Roman stamped his foot. “That makes no sense!”

“It makes lots of sense. Explain how it’s not soup,” Virgil challenged.

The resulting argument lasted them all the way to the ice cream shop and halfway through their treats.

“Aren’t you going to take a side?” Roman demanded of Remus at last.

Remus looked up from his cone. “Oh, no, this is very entertaining for me, I could watch you two bicker all month. Please keep it up.”

“You’re a terrible person,” Roman told him, trying not to laugh.

“I never claimed to be anything else,” Remus said happily.

***

“—and that’s how you do it. It’s really easy, but it’s so fun, I could balance chemical equations for hours,” Remus said, bopping the tip of his dry-erase marker against the giant whiteboard in the library for emphasis. He and Roman and Virgil had all met up here to study; it was a sunny afternoon, and they’d gotten a nice spot by the window. The marker left a little black mark next to the diagram Remus had spent the last ten minutes drawing; he wiped the dot away with his finger. He was wearing a turtleneck with horizontal black-and-white stripes and a pair of faded jeans with paint splatters all over them and huge rips in the front that ran from his mid-thighs almost down to his ankles; he’d finished the outfit off with socks in sandals and a black felt beret. His outfit—vaguely artistic, but mostly just terrible—contrasted comically with the intensely technical pseudo-lecture on chemistry he’d just given.

Roman nodded without looking up. “I remember balancing those was fun,” he agreed. He hadn’t taken a chemistry class in a couple of years now, but Remus was majoring in it, and the best way for Remus to study was to explain it out loud, so he’d gathered Roman and Virgil in the library. They’d even been able to snag one of the coveted whiteboards. Roman was able to focus on his notes better with Remus’s animated talking in the background, and Virgil preferred quiet but was willing to put on his headphones to block out Remus’s noise, so all in all this arrangement worked out well for all three of them.

“Yes!” Remus agreed with a happy wiggle. He picked up his water bottle off the table and took a long sip. “Okay, next I have a bunch of molecules I have to memorize the structures of. Do you need anything first?” He addressed his question to both of them, but Virgil seemed pretty focused—or perhaps his music was loud enough to drown out other noises.

Roman, however, thought the question over. “Yes, actually, can you help me go over my lines for this one scene? It’s not very long.”

“Mmhm.” Remus held out his hands expectantly, and Roman handed him his script. Remus began fiddling with the dog-eared bottom corner of the page it was open to, folding it back and forth.

Roman dug in the pocket of his cargo shorts—he liked cargo shorts, partly for the shape but mostly for the pockets—and handed Remus a star-shaped fidget toy made of sequins that could be flipped back and forth. He’d rather the corner of the script didn’t get torn off by mistake.

“I think I’m off book, I just want to make sure,” he said as Remus accepted the toy and began fidgeting with it.

Remus nodded, scanning the page. “Sounds good. It’s just this one page?”

“Yeah. Ready?”

Remus nodded, and Roman launched into the scene. His character had most of the lines; it was essentially a glorified monologue. Remus interjected the two lines from other characters, using a hilarious nasally voice that made it hard for Roman to stay in character without breaking to laugh, but he successfully made it through the final line before dissolving into snickers.

“You’re word-perfect, kid,” Remus proclaimed as Roman got ahold of himself, handing him back the script.

Roman grinned. “Thank you!”

Remus nodded and took another sip of water before wiping down the whiteboard and launching into a ramble about the molecular structures he had to memorize.

Roman had just about tuned Remus out again and slipped back into the headspace where he could focus on his work when Remus broke off. “Logan!” he exclaimed, sounding delighted.

Roman looked up, and so did Virgil, pulling off hir headphones. Roman followed Remus’s gaze, and there indeed was Logan, his flat top haircut and dark academia outfit unmistakeable. He was stepping out of the stairwell that led down from the floor above, adjusting the strap of the leather messenger bag they used instead of a backpack. Even at this distance, the pins he kept on the bag were visible, neatly affixed in alternating rows on the bag’s buckle straps—a demiboy flag, an aromantic flag, an enamel pin shaped like an open book, and a handful of other pins Logan had collected from the university’s cultural centers during orientation. Roman had a few of that last category on his backpack himself; he knew he and Logan had matching land acknowledgment pins now, but he wasn’t sure if any of the other pins they’d chosen matched.

Remus darted across the wide open floor, weaving his way around a few students. “Logan! Hi!”

Logan looked up, a small smile finding its way onto his face as he saw Remus. He said something—presumably a greeting—but was too far away for Roman to hear, since he was speaking at a normal tone.

Remus seized Logan by the hand and dragged them towards Roman and Virgil. Logan laughed and said something in protest, pushing his square glasses up his wide nose as he followed Remus.

“Remus, I have to go to class,” Logan was insisting as they got close enough for Roman to hear. “Hello, Roman. Virgil.” They adjusted their already-immaculate clothing, the tendons in their thin hands flexing as they smoothed their mustard-brown cable knit sweater vest and tugged on the rolled-up sleeves of their periwinkle button down shirt.

Virgil gave a two-fingered salute. “Sup.”

“Hi Logan,” Roman said happily. “We’re studying!”

“Very nice,” Logan said, raising Remus’s hand—which was still clasping his own—and gently pressing it with their other hand. “I am always glad to see you, Remus, but I can’t stay long.”

“Okay,” Remus said. “I just wanted to say hi.” He gave Logan a quick, tight hug around the ribs before releasing them just as fast as he’d darted in.

Logan smiled again. “Hello, then. I hope your studying is going well?”

He received nods from the group, and gave them his own nod in return.

“You’ve got to go,” Remus reminded him. “You don’t like to be late.”

“True. I’ll see you later, dear.”

Remus nodded. “Wanna hang out tomorrow night?”

Logan considered this. “Maybe. I’m going to the Black Student Union meeting tomorrow evening. So it would have to be after that.”

“Okay, I can do that! I love you!”

Logan smiled. “I love you too, Rem.” They made as if to leave, then paused. “Roman, while I’m thinking of it—are you and Patton still free for lunch tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Roman confirmed. Logan and Patton had two classes together, and so together with Roman they’d formed a tight-knit little friend group very quickly; the three of them tried to make sure to meet up for lunch at least once a week.

“Wonderful. I’ll text our groupchat about it. See you then.” Logan tugged his hand out of Remus’s grip, waved, and set off at a brisk pace back towards the stairs.

***

“I’m telling you, Virgil, Oberon and Titania are a really good example of how soulmates can make it through rough patches!”

“Bullshit. They’re obviously not a metaphor for soulmates, why would the fae even have soulmates? Their story is a cautionary tale,” Virgil said languidly, lying on their back on the floor of their room.

“No!” Roman pounded his fist on the floor. “Why do you always do this?”

“Because it’s funny,” Virgil replied with a snicker.

“But you always bash on soulmates, specifically!” Roman said.

“Yeah, because I think society’s emphasis on soulbonds is dumb.” Virgil shrugged. “Anyway, if you think Oberon and Titania’s relationship is a good example of anything, I have some concerns.”

“No—no, stop! I didn’t mean it like that! They’re fae, like you said. I obviously don’t condone any of the ways they treated each other! I’m just saying that viewing them as a metaphor for soulmates makes a really interesting lens to view the other couples in the play! Right, Logan?” He turned expectantly to Logan.

“Wh—no,” Logan, who was sitting on Remus’s bed and combing their fingers through Remus’s hair, his head in their lap, responded. “You are both, objectively, wrong. Horribly so. Painfully so.”

“Hey! You’re not allowed to tell me I’m wrong about Shakespeare,” Roman countered quickly.

“Why did you ask me for my opinion, then?” Logan asked, rolling their eyes.

“I don’t know,” Roman grumbled.

“Wait, why can’t they talk to you about Shakespeare?” Virgil asked.

“Because they always win!” Roman crossed his arms.

“Oh, and I don’t?” Virgil demanded. “What am I to you, Roman? I thought we had something special here,” they went on playfully. “You make dumb arguments, I make worse ones, and then I win. I thought that meant something to you.” They pouted at him.

“That’s different!” Roman protested, stifling giggles at the mopey puppy dog eyes Virgil was sending him. “You just don’t care what I say. Logan actually refutes my arguments! It’s very humiliating!”

“I only do it because your logic is physically painful to listen to,” Logan said.

Roman crossed his arms and pointedly turned away from Logan, nose in the air. “Anyway. As I was saying. Puck’s role in all of this is really interesting, if you consider the question: are the fae supposed to be able to truly alter soulbonds, or are they only messing with feelings?”

“Dear,” Logan said plaintively, looking down at Remus, his fingers still carding through Remus’s curls.

“Hmm?” Remus responded, not opening his eyes.

“Make them stop,” Logan said beseechingly.

“Sorry fellas, you heard them. Stop torturing Logan, he’s already an English major, so he’s plenty tortured already. Or else I’ll have to dissect your spleens.” Remus wagged a finger in Roman and Virgil’s direction.

“What a terrible fate that would be,” Roman commented, flopping over to lie on the floor beside Virgil.

Seconds later, his phone buzzed; he pulled it out to see a text notification from Virgil.

Virgil: oberon sucks btw

Roman: Oh, it is ON!

Roman grinned as he sent the response, already anticipating the thrill of the argument that was about to ensue. He felt a warm thrill in his chest at Virgil’s answering chuckle—it was good to know Virgil was having fun with this too.

***

“—so I was hanging out with Virgil the other day at the library cafe, and he said The Tempest was dumb because magic solves everything.” Roman was lying on the floor of his dorm, tossing a bouncy ball up in the air and catching it over and over again. Logan was sitting at Roman’s desk, legs up and crossed on the seat of the chair as he worked on readings for an English class, half-listening to Roman’s rambling. “And that since it solved all the problems, it made no sense for Prospero to give it up. Which was completely ignoring all the bad stuff magic had done and the symbolism of him throwing it away!”

“What did Remus have to say about that?” Logan inquired with a small laugh, not looking up from the copy of Frankenstein in his hands.

“What? Oh, nothing. Remus wasn’t there.”

“Oh?” Logan blinked, glancing up from the book.

“Yeah, we were at the library getting Starbucks, we do that on Wednesdays now. Remus was in his history class, I’m pretty sure.”

“I didn’t know you and Virgil hung out together,” Logan said, raising their eyebrows.

“Oh, we don’t, we just get coffee on Wednesdays, it’s different,” Roman said.

Logan stared at him. “...What?”

“Like, we only hang out on our own time to get Starbucks and then argue about Shakespeare. It’s really fun! It’s a great system, honestly. And this way, you don’t yell at me about Shakespeare or text Remus rant essays about what you think I’m getting wrong!”

Logan looked away, a very called-out expression on his face. “You weren’t supposed to see those…”

“Oh, Remus didn’t show me, I just broke into his phone the other day and it was open to your texts,” Roman said reassuringly.

“Why would you break into—” Logan began, not seeming reassured in the slightest.

“I needed to check his calendar to see if he was available to come with me to the grocery store,” Roman explained. “You know we’re really good at guessing each other’s passcodes. He doesn’t mind, we break into each other’s phones all the time.” He paused, assessing Logan’s face, trying to gauge if their expression was upset or not. “I’m sorry I read the texts, though,” he added, just in case it had hurt their feelings. “I only saw the very end of it, it wasn't on purpose or anything. Promise.”

Logan sighed. “I know. It’s alright.” He reached across the space between them to press the back of Roman’s hand.

Roman grinned. “Only you would come up with a whole essay in a text,” he teased. “Dunno what I expected, really.”

“It wasn’t an essay,” Logan said defensively. “Technically speaking.”

“I dunno, it sure looked like if you formatted it with MLA, you could turn it in for a grade.” Roman giggled. “But hey, what do I know?”

Logan opened his mouth to reply, but stopped as the doorknob rattled with the sound of keys.

Patton stepped in. “Hey! If it isn’t some of my favorite people!” he greeted the two of them with a smile. His dark, wavy hair was a little ruffled. Normally he combed it to the side, but Roman remembered it had been windy today, so Roman guessed that was responsible for the irregularity. “How are you doing?” Patton asked the two of them.

“Better now that you’re here,” Roman told him with an answering grin. “How’s your day been?” He’d noticed that Patton really liked being asked how his day had gone.

Sure enough, Patton’s smile spread a little wider. “Pretty good, thanks! I haven’t had too much to do today, which is nice. How are you doing, Logan?” He sat down on the floor beside Roman, sliding his backpack off his shoulders.

Roman immediately sat up and scooted over to lean against Patton—he was an excellent cuddler; he was tall and chubby and he ran warm, and Roman liked cuddles. He tended towards understimulation rather than overstimulation, and hugs were one of his favorite things. Patton was always happy to supply.

“I’m alright, thank you,” Logan said as Patton wrapped an arm around Roman’s shoulders. “A little underslept, but otherwise good.”

“Good, good. You should sleep more. Are you both busy?” Patton asked.

“No,” Roman said, because Patton always had fun ideas.

Logan pursed his lips, glancing down at the book in his hands in consideration. “I can finish this chapter later. Why?”

“Oh, I was just wondering if either of you wanted to play a board game,” Patton said. He and Roman had each brought a couple from their homes, and together they had quite the little collection.

“Yes!” Roman agreed eagerly, breaking away from Patton and crossing to the shelf where they kept the games. “How about Clue?”

“I will decimate you both,” Logan said, deadly serious, adjusting their glasses and scooting to the floor.

“All part of the fun, Specs.” Roman pulled out the box and set it down between them. “Dibs on the red piece!”

***

“—so I told him that was utter bullshit—not in so many words, of course—and listed off the reasons why, and he simply did not seem to recognize how completely nonexistent his logic was, he just kept repeating his original points louder and louder.” Logan punctuated his rant about a classmate with hand gestures as he walked next to Roman on the sidewalk.

“I hate guys like that,” Roman said, making a face.

Logan nodded. “But I got full credit on my discussion post when I typed up my argument and I cannot imagine he got the same, based on his talking points. So.” He shrugged, clearly trying not to look too smug with himself.

“Good job!” Roman told them.

“Thank you.” Logan’s happiness was palpable. “How have—”

“Logan!” Remus’s voice shouted.

Roman looked in the direction of the noise; they were almost an entire block away still from the quad, where they’d agreed to meet Remus, but he seemed to have spotted them. He was sprinting at full speed directly towards them.

“Oh, dear,” Logan said, the exasperation in his voice belied by the grin on their face. They took a step back and braced themself, just in time.

Remus full-on tackled Logan in a hug, colliding into him at full speed. Logan stumbled back a couple of steps, but successfully avoided falling over. “Hello, Remus,” he said composedly, wrapping their arms around Remus and returning the enthusiastic hug. “How are you?”

“Much better now. I missed you,” Remus said into Logan’s shoulder. “Normal people get all weird about it when I tell them cool murder facts. You're much cooler than normal people.”

“It has been twenty-seven hours and about thirty minutes since you last saw me,” Logan informed him. “And thirteen minutes since we last texted.” They rumpled his curls, which fell messily in loose spirals about his face; they were mostly about chin length, although some of them were choppily trimmed shorter than others. Remus was very insistent about cutting his own hair. It was always mildly disastrous, but he insisted he liked it that way. He’d dyed it himself, too; he’d bleached a streak at the very front of his head and dyed it silver about a month before college started, with a surprising amount of success.

“Yeah, and I missed you.” Remus stepped back from the hug as Logan released him. “Also hi Roman, I guess.” He tossed Roman a grin.

“You are a terrible brother sometimes,” Roman informed him. “Hi.”

“Uh, I think you mean all the time,” Remus corrected him. “I’m joking,” he added. “C’mon, I got Starbucks for us! I have extra meal credits!” He seized Logan’s hand and reached invitingly for Roman’s.

Roman let Remus grab his hand, too, and his brother immediately began dragging both Roman and Logan at a slightly breakneck pace down the sidewalk. Several students dove out of their way until he dragged them to a halt by the food truck, bouncing on the balls of his feet and waiting expectantly.

Not even a moment later, the barista placed three cups on the delivery window tray and called out Remus’s name.

“Yes!” Remus pumped his fist, darted over, and picked up two of the cups—Roman recognized Remus and Logan’s go-to coffee orders, a trenta mango-dragonfruit refresher and a grande vanilla sweet cream cold brew with extra ice. Roman picked up the last cup, a warm drink in a grande cup; he sniffed to check what it was even though he knew what Remus usually got him. Steamed apple juice with a sprinkle of cinnamon on top—his favorite as a kid and still one of his favorites now. He wrapped his hands around the warm cup and followed Remus and Logan over to a sunny patch on the lawn.

Remus sprawled out, taking up more space than seemed humanly possible for one person to fill; Logan tucked their legs beneath them as they sat beside Remus and began pulling out a textbook, a dog-eared novel, and a handful of pens and pencils from their messenger bag.

Roman sat so that he completed the triangle between the three of them, his legs crossed so he could lean his cup against them between sips and not worry about knocking it over.

“Thank you for the coffee, Remus,” Logan said, his cup halfway to his lips as he flipped through the worn novel.

Roman nodded in agreement, breathing in the warm cinnamon scent of the apple juice.

“Of course!” Remus said exuberantly, taking a noisy slurp of his drink.

Roman and Logan both winced slightly.

“Could you be a little quieter, there?” Logan asked mildly.

“How dare you.” Remus clutched his heart, leaning back so far Roman was surprised he didn’t lose his balance and fall over.

Logan sighed, reaching over and placing a hand over Remus’s, gripped around the edge of the cup’s lid. “At least please be careful not to splash,” he said, guiding Remus’s hand downwards until the cup came to rest on the ground. “This textbook cost rather a lot and I’d like to sell it back in a decent condition at the end of the term.”

Remus let go of the cup, leaving it to rest where it was, and leaned forward. He took Logan’s face in both of his hands and looked seriously into their eyes. “Hey. You are my best friend in the whole world and you mean everything to me. I love you and I’m so glad we’re soulmates. But I draw the line at stopping my annoying behavior for anything less than a natural disaster.” He released Logan and picked his drink back up. “I promise I won’t spill on your book, though,” he added lightly. “Roman gets no such promises.”

“You wouldn’t dare, you know I hate being sticky—” Roman began heatedly.

“Okay, okay. Jesus. You two are really conspiring to foil all my chaotic little gremlin dealings today. I’ll order an ice water to spill on you instead, will that make you happy?” Remus snickered.

Roman frowned. “If you must,” he begrudgingly agreed, since this seemed the closest thing to a compromise he was likely to get out of Remus. He suspected it might be a joke anyway, but he wasn’t sure about that and didn’t want to take any chances.

But Remus didn’t return to the food truck, so it seemed likely that it was a joke after all. Instead, he devoted himself to more noisy slurping, crossing his eyes and looking like he didn’t have a care in the world.

“You’re the tallest one of us,” Roman said after a moment.

“Huh?” Remus looked up at him.

“He has a point, dear,” Logan said, turning a page.

“Like yeah I know I am, but what’s the point?” Remus asked.

“You said we were foiling your chaotic little gremlin dealings,” Roman elaborated. “You’re, like, fucking… six two.”

“And a half,” Remus added. “Emotionally, I am a chaotic creature of spite who’s about three five and can sneeze fire, though.”

“That makes no sense,” Roman protested.

“Does too,” Remus responded, crossing his arms.

“It does,” Logan agreed. “For example, emotionally, I punch that one classmate in the face twice a week, but we can’t always embody what we want to be. And you, Roman—emotionally, you’re very invested in Shakespeare, but in actuality, your interpretations are painfully bad.”

“Hey. You talking about me and Shakespeare is off limits. We’ve discussed this.” Roman waved a warning finger at them.

“I still think that’s unfair and have raised a motion to reject and overturn the ban.”

“Unfortunately for you, the judge and jury are my feelings, and you hurt them, Logan. Shakespeare and I have something special. You need to stop trying to come between us like this.”

Logan glanced up from his book to give Roman a singularly unimpressed look. “You are preposterous.”

Roman beamed at him and made a heart shape with his hands, holding it up like a picture frame to look at Logan through. “But you loooooove me,” he singsonged.

Logan nodded. “This is true.”

“You’re both nerds and Shakespeare isn’t even that good,” Remus put in, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“I’m divorcing you,” Logan said immediately.

“Noooo, come back!” Remus dramatically grasped at the air as if reaching out from afar for Logan.

“Fine.” Logan shrugged. “Then Roman’s disowning you.”

“Hey, that’s my line!”

“He can’t disown me, he’d miss me,” Remus said confidently. “Y’all are stuck with me.” He looked very pleased with himself.

There was silence for a beat, then all three of them burst into laughter.

“I’m really glad we’re all friends,” Remus said happily, leaning back and taking another long sip of his drink.

“Yeah,” Roman agreed.

“I don’t know,” Logan said, holding back a smirk. “Sometimes I think about a world where I don’t have to deal with a pair of himbos every day of my life.” He maintained his faux-serious face for all of the three seconds it took both twins to start pelting him with ripped-up blades of grass, then devolved into helpless laughter again.

***

“Patton, you good? You’ve been kind of spaced out all day.”

“Huh?” Patton looked up, blinking through his round gold-rimmed glasses. “Yeah, I’m okay! Just… boy problems, I guess? Which is… it’s new.” He wrinkled his nose for a second in a face of dissatisfaction before smoothing his face back into a smile.

“Oh? Want to talk about it?” Roman asked eagerly, leaning forward and resting his chin in his hands, interest definitely piqued.

“I don’t know…” Patton glanced away. “It’s complicated. And it’s probably not a big deal.”

“Patton. We are friends. The main purpose of friends is gossiping about crushes.” Roman crossed his arms. “I am offended that you would ever doubt my capacity for talking about boys in a gay way.”

“I don’t think that’s the main purpose of friendship,” Patton said, but his smile looked more genuine.

“Shush, I know that, I’m being dramatic. How about a movie night and you can spill the deets in a cozy setting with popcorn? And Logan?”

“I mean… okay,” Patton relented. “It’s probably not as exciting as you’re hoping for, though, I’m sorry.”

“Nonsense. You are perfect and so is everything you do,” Roman said absently, pulling out his phone and FaceTiming Logan.

“Roman! You’re sweet, but you know you shouldn’t go around passing out compliments that should go to you,” Patton said.

“Oh, stop,” Roman said, grinning wide.

Logan picked up on the second ring. “What do you need, Roman?”

“To see your gorgeous face, nerd. Also we’re having a movie night at me and Pat’s, attendance mandatory. Seven works, right? Pat’s having boy problems.”

Logan stared at Roman with a blank face for several beats. “And… you want me there to help… why?” he deadpanned.

“Shut up, you have a nonromantic boy toy, you’re basically qualified to help.”

“Don’t call Remus that! He’s a person, not a—wait, he’s your brother, Roman, that’s worse, that’s so weird—”

“—Anyway, I can more than handle giving Patton plenty of terrible advice on his love life,” Roman interrupted. “You’re there to tell him everything I say is a terrible idea and let me throw popcorn at you. We can watch Big Hero Six. C’mon, it’ll be fun!”

Logan heaved a sigh. “Fine. But you have to put your dad’s curry powder on the popcorn.”

“What kind of man do you take me for, Logan? Of course we’ll have curry popcorn! See you at seven, love you, bye bye.” Roman blew a kiss and hung up.

After his English class, Roman grabbed a burrito from the dining hall and hurried back to the dorm, making it there at half past six. Patton was already back; he made hot chocolate while Roman microwaved popcorn and tossed it in a bowl with curry powder.

At precisely seven o'clock, there was a knock on the door; Roman let Logan in and the three of them climbed into the nest of pillows and blankets Patton had built on the bottom bunk, pushing aside the bi pride flag and the Puerto Rican flag Patton had hung like curtains around his bunk.

“So,” Roman said eagerly as the movie’s opening bot fight began on the laptop screen, turning to Patton and bouncing (Logan grabbed the popcorn bowl out of Roman’s lap as it jostled), “spill!”

Patton squirmed under the attention, a half-hidden smile ghosting its way onto his face. “I don’t know… what should I talk about?”

“What’s he like?” Roman asked. “How do you know him? Is he cute? Have you got his number?”

“Oh, wow—that’s a lot.” Patton giggled nervously.

“Okay, start with is he cute?”

“He’s really cute,” Patton allowed, biting back another smile. “He’s got all these freckles all over his face and neck and hands, and his eyebrows are really expressive—he gets this really serious face when he’s thinking, and it’s… really pretty.”

“Eyes?” Roman demanded. “How are his eyes?”

“I mean, they’re eyes? They’re this kind of greyish blueish color. I don’t know, I try not to stare, especially when he’s looking, you know?”

“Okay, that’s fair,” Roman relented. “What else? Is he fashionable?”

“I—not really, honestly. He mostly just wears longsleeve tees and jeans. Sometimes beanies. He has these really cute yellow converse that he always wears, though. He, like—oh, gosh, I’m not sure how to describe it. He’s not, like, fashionable like you asked, but he—kind of the way he holds himself makes it seem like he is? He wears his clothes well, I think is maybe the phrase.”

Roman nodded. “Alright. Do you know whether or not he’s queer?”

Patton hesitated. “Um… I’m not sure. I don’t know either way. But he was the only one that laughed at a bi pun I made one time, and he wore a pink shirt and yellow belt with faded jeans one time, which I might be reading way too much into but it sure looked like a sneaky pastel pan flag.”

Roman nodded very seriously, taking mental notes. “All good signs. Anything else? Any stickers on his laptop or water bottle? Pins on his backpack?”

Patton shook his head. “They’re, like, super empty. He doesn’t really do anything that tells people about his personality. His outfits are usually really plain, like I said, and everything. It’s weird, because he’s got such a distinct personality, and he really doesn’t seem like someone who’d leave his stuff unpersonalized. It’s like he’s afraid of something, or something.” Patton was silent for a moment, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “But then, he seems kind of nervous around me in general.” He looked away, a worried expression crossing his face.

“Maybe he likes you back?” Roman suggested. “Plenty of people get nervous around their crushes.”

Patton shook his head quickly. “No, I don’t think that’s it. I think I know what the thing worrying him is. I just… don’t know how to talk about it with him.”

“You do realize you’re being super vague here, right?” Roman queried; he couldn’t parse what on earth Patton meant by that, but his curiosity was piqued.

“I know.” Patton bit his lip. “I, um, don’t want to talk about it yet, I think. It’s complicated. I don’t think it would be fair to him to discuss it with others.”

“Oh.” Roman did his best to hide his disappointment. “Okay, that’s fine. How do you know him?”

His attempt to change the subject didn’t seem to ease Patton’s discomfort, based on the way his shoulders drew up even closer to his ears. “...Kind of from a class we’re in together?” he answered after a long pause. “We’re partners on a group project.”

“Sounds like a meet cute to me,” Roman said, searching again for new lines of questioning that would hopefully not be as upsetting for mysterious and unknown reasons. “What do you like about him?”

Patton lit up. “He’s really sweet, actually. It takes some looking to see it, because he’s got a lot of walls up, but you can tell he’s really thoughtful and observant, and he’s really warming up to me, I think—he’s being much nicer to me than most people, and I’m starting to think he really means it and wants to be nice to me just to be nice, not because he feels like he has to.”

“Well, of course he’d be nice to you, you’re like the sweetest person I’ve met in my life,” Roman said, feeling bewildered by this line of reasoning.

“No, I—oh, nevermind. I was worried he wasn’t genuinely being nice for a while, but I’m really starting to think he means it, is my point. Anyway, he’s really smart—he’s so good at like, you know, synthesizing stuff? He’s really good at finding the information we need and paraphrasing it in a way that works really well for our project. I have such a hard time wording things how I want, you know? So it’s awesome that he can do that so well. And he’s good at puns, too! He tries not to laugh, but he scrunches his nose up and gets really red cheeks so you can always tell, it’s really cute. And one time I was trying to explain to our professor he was wrong about something, but I was kind of having trouble getting my point across, the teacher didn’t seem to get it, and he just spoke up and pointed out exactly where the misunderstanding was. It was really nice and reassuring of him. He just seems really protective of people he cares about, you know?”

“He sounds great, Pat!” Roman agreed.

Patton nodded, giving an excited little wiggle.

The brief silence was broken by a quiet crunching noise. Roman looked to his other side to see Logan, eyes fixed on the movie, who had worked their way through a solid third of the popcorn.

“Oh, you fiend!” Roman cried, seizing the popcorn bowl back since he was sitting in the middle.

“What?” Logan defended himself exasperatedly. “You two seemed to be handling that just fine! I like this movie! Neither of you asked for the popcorn back! What did I do?”

“...Okay, technically nothing,” Roman admitted after considering this defense and finding it to be unfortunately solid and covering all of Logan’s bases. God, they knew him too well. “But we are supposed to be doing this as a group.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “Fine. Patton, he’s probably queer. You should ask him out and see what happens. Happy now?”

“Wh—how are you saying that with such confidence?” Roman demanded.

“Which part?”

“That he’s queer. I agree Patton should definitely ask him out at the first opportunity, we just hadn’t gotten to that yet.”

“I mean, I can’t say for sure, but being the only person in a classroom to react to a queer joke is pretty telling.” Logan shrugged. “Any other relevant details?”

Patton shrugged. “I don’t know. Janus—that’s the guy—he doesn’t talk about himself very much—”

“Hold on, Janus?” Logan interrupted. “Lanky white guy? Constantly acts like he’s just swallowed a lemon? Kind of a twink? Looks incredibly uncomfortable in his own skin? Growing his hair out?”

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” Patton admitted. “You could maybe be nicer about him, though.”

“I’m sure I could,” Logan said, seeming unconcerned. “Yeah, I know him. He’s queer, I’m pretty sure he’s compatible with you. No idea if he’d be interested, or frankly what you see in him, but go for it.”

“Wh—how do you know him?” Roman demanded. “I feel left out now!”

“We met at the Aspec—at a pride center identity group. Also he’s Remus’s roommate’s best friend. They’re practically attached at the hip. I’m surprised you haven’t met him yet, with how much you hang out over there lately.”

Virgil had a best friend? A best friend here, at college? That was news. Surprisingly unpleasant news—Roman wasn’t quite sure why. It wasn’t like he disliked Virgil to the point of not wanting them to have friends! Of course not! Frankly, he was glad to hear the tiny emo had a social life. It just kind of stung that this was the first time he was hearing about someone evidently so important to Virgil. And not even from hir own mouth. He’d kind of thought they were closer than that. That he’d have learned basic facts about what and who was important to Virgil by now. Learning otherwise was a remarkably unpleasant experience.

Logan took another handful of popcorn out of the bowl in Roman’s hands, startling Roman out of his thoughts.

“Stop!” he yelped. “I want some, too!”

“You have more if this bag runs out,” Logan pointed out. “I have some extra popcorn in my dorm too. And you’ve been holding out on me with your curry powder.” He popped another handful into his mouth and crossed his arms.

“If you just asked my parents, you could have some of your own! They’d even give you the recipe! Now share with Patton!” Roman leaned himself and the popcorn bowl away from Logan, trying not to laugh.

“I don’t mind,” Patton put in. “It’s very tasty, but I’m not as attached as Logan is.”

“No, you have to take some, he’s been hogging it,” Roman insisted.

“I don’t mind!” Patton insisted. Roman shoved the bowl in his face, and he relented and took a handful.

“Let Logan have some more now,” Patton said, gently pushing the bowl back into Roman’s lap.

“Thank you,” Logan said primly when Roman relented.

“You’re welcome!” Patton said with an easy smile. The smile fell away after a moment, though, and he looked thoughtful. “I’m not sure about asking Janus out, though,” he said hesitantly.

“Why not?” Roman asked. “You really sound interested in him! What have you got to lose?”

“It’s more complicated than that,” Patton said, worrying the edge of a blanket between his fingers. “I’m not sure if he’d be comfortable with it. I don’t—I don’t know.” He looked away. “I’ll figure it out, I guess.” He looked back at Roman and Logan, forcing a smile onto his face. “Thank you both for the advice, though. And for listening.”

“Patton—” Roman began, concerned.

Patton shook his head. “Let’s just watch the movie now, okay? Really. Thank you. But I’m good for now. Can I have some more popcorn?”

Logan wordlessly held out the bowl and Roman allowed himself to be mostly distracted by Big Hero Six. He felt better when Patton leaned on his shoulder, a genuine smile on his face as he watched Fred goofing around on the screen. Whatever the issue Patton was dealing with was, at least it didn’t seem big enough to keep bothering him after putting it aside.

***

“So,” Remus said with an evil grin.

“Whatever it is, I don’t want to know,” Roman said. They were both sprawled on Remus’s bed, sharing earbuds as Remus swiped through TikTok.

“It’s nothing!” Remus protested.

Roman gave him a suspicious look. Remus’s face was entirely too innocent.

“I was just wondering when you’re going to get your shit together and do something about your crush on Virgil,” Remus said, the evil grin back.

“My what?” Roman did a double take. “I—I don’t have a crush on Virgil, we barely even get along!”

Remus rolled his eyes. “Oh, please. The tension between you two is so high I’m surprised something hasn’t snapped yet. And you definitely have a crush.”

“I do not!” Roman grabbed Remus’s pillow and threw it in his brother’s face. “We’re barely even friends!”

Remus shoved the pillow aside and rested his chin on top of it, making a skeptical face.

“I mean, are they really pretty? Sure. But that’s not a crush,” Roman insisted.

“Mmhm. Okay. So what makes it not a crush?” Remus pressed.

“I—well—” Roman stammered, flustered by the very question.

“Uh-huh.”

“No!” Roman snapped, voice cracking. “I just—that’s a hard question to answer right off the bat! How do you define a crush? It’s just not, okay?”

“I mean, I define crush as, like…” Remus paused. “Huh. Okay. You have a point, or whatever. I guess… a crush is, like—huh. No. Okay. You’re distracting me. I’m teasing you about your crush that you totally do have, we are not veering off topic.”

“I do not have a crush on Virgil! I just want to be his friend! Okay?”

Remus made a skeptical face. “Sure, whatever you say. I’m still going to tease you about it.”

“Oh, whenever you find that third soulmate, I am getting so much revenge.”

“Eh.” Remus shrugged. “Like, go for it, but I dunno if you’ll have that much time to tease me about it before we get together. You know? Like, think about me and Logan.”

“Logan knew you were soulmates for two and a half years before you got togeth—”

“Yeah, because he’s smart, but I didn’t figure it out until thirty minutes before we got together. Or like. Thirty minutes before we started talking about it. You know this.”

Roman crossed his arms. This was unfortunately a very good point; the day Remus had figured out that Logan was one of his soulmates had been a pretty memorable one even for Roman. Logan and the twins had grown up next door to each other, and had been best friends since elementary school. One Saturday morning near the end of their senior year of high school, Remus had bolted upright in bed while Roman was brushing his teeth, blurted out something nigh incomprehensible, and taken off at a sprint; he’d slammed the front door behind himself on his way out and he hadn’t answered any of Roman’s texts for two hours, only to show up by sprinting back into the house and screaming at the top of his lungs “Logan and I are soulmates!”

This had prompted a lot of confused questioning from Roman. He’d learned that yes, Remus and Logan were definitely soulmates; Logan had figured it out in sophomore year but hadn’t said anything; Remus had only just figured it out; yes, Logan was still aromantic; yes, Remus was still allo; no, neither of them felt like either of these facts was an issue; and Remus was very happy.

“We’re going on, like, a date, but platonic,” Remus had announced to him that day, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “I’m really excited, this is so cool! Who’d have thought, right? Logan and me!”

Roman had smiled and tried hard to just be happy for Remus and Logan, and not jealous of them. Particularly about two months later, when they’d made their relationship official and become queerplatonic partners. He was happy for them! He was!

But Remus had never cared that much about finding his soulmates. Roman had. It didn’t feel fair. Remus, who didn’t care, got two soulmates, and one of them was literally his childhood best friend. Roman, who’d been daydreaming about finding his soulmate since he was too little to remember, and had learned just about everything there was to know about how soulbonds worked, seemed to have just the usual one soulmate. His soulbond hadn’t even developed until he was sixteen—admittedly, that was an expected side effect of the puberty blockers he’d been on for a few years before he’d been approved for T, but he was still salty about it. And when his soulbond finally had developed and he’d started tuning into his soulmate’s dreams, they were so creepy! He wasn’t sure he’d had a single souldream so far that wasn’t a nightmare. They ruined his sleep for the night whenever he got one. It was irritating and frustrating and all sorts of bad things; he’d actually cried over it a couple of times, not that anyone but Remus knew.

But as annoying as it was for him, it had to be worse for his poor soulmate—if these nightmares were what was making it through the soulbond, he could only imagine how much worse their nightly sleep must be.

He hoped he’d find them soon. He was ready for a proper romance, thank you very much!

42 notes · View notes

fallinnflower · 5 years ago

Text

worth it

hoshi x reader (university!au, strangers to lovers, fluff)

The first time you met Soonyoung was during the co-curricular fair during your first year of college. Soonyoung sat at a fold out table in the quad with three of his friends, music playing from a Bluetooth speaker and a big poster taped to the front of the table which simply read ‘DANCE CLUB,’ surrounded by hand-drawn emoticons. You thought it was a cute booth, and you thought he was a cute boy, but you nearly jumped out of your skin when he called out to get your attention.

You weren’t sure what clubs you were going to join, but you didn’t think you’d make for a good dancer — you’d only ever danced by yourself in your room, and one time at a school dance. But there was Soonyoung, calling out at ‘the girl in the blue cap,’ which you suddenly realized was you, imploring you to join. You attempted to conceal yourself in your jacket as you shook your head, mumbling an apology and waving as you wove your way deeper into the crowd, cheeks blazing.

You didn’t look back.

The next time you interacted with Soonyoung (beyond him smiling at you when you crossed paths, which you figured he did to everyone because he was just that friendly) was in a marketing class the two of you had together. You didn’t sit anywhere near Soonyoung, and for the first quarter of the semester nothing of consequence happened between you two.

Then there was the midterm assignment. Randomized partners, open-ended topic, all culminating in a twenty-five minute presentation given by the both of you.

You hated the waiting most of all. Sitting, listening to your professor call out what seemed to be everyone else’s name but your own, biting down on the inside of your cheek the longer you had to wait.

“Soonyoung and Y/N.” Your head snaps up, and suddenly Soonyoung is waving excitedly at you, motioning to the seat beside him with a big grin. With your heart beating a mile a minute you pack up your things and slip down the row to sit beside Soonyoung.

“Hi!” He greets. You manage a quiet reply, not sure why you feel so bashful in his bright presence. “Do you have any ideas for the project?”

“Um, well...” You pause, flipping a few pages back in your notebook. “We could always talk about social media’s impact on marketing… I know it’s simple, but maybe we could pick a specific platform and get some data about how marketing has developed there. Maybe Instagram?” You chance a look at Soonyoung out of the corner of your eye to find him still beaming at you, peering down into your notebook. His face is closer to yours than you expected, and his cheeks are bunched up in such an endearing way that you just want to pinch them. And just like that, as if you weren’t blushing enough as it is, you feel your cheeks heat up tenfold.

Suddenly, everyone starts packing up, and you close your notebook in a hurried manner,

“So, um, I’m free every afternoon—”

“How about tomorrow then? At 7 in the library?” You nod, caught off guard at how enthusiastic Soonyoung seems to be about this project. He’s never been active in class, and, to be honest, you were expecting him to drag his feet a bit more.

It’s 7:15, and you can’t keep yourself from biting at your lip, a mix of agitated and concerned that keeps you bouncing your knee as the minutes tick by. You’re close to just sending Soonyoung an email and ditching, but suddenly you catch sight of him jogging frantically between the shelves of books. You stand and wave to catch his attention, and he grins when he notices you, brushing his hair back from his face.

Upon closer inspection, you realize that his hair is damp, sticking up in a multitude of different directions.

“Hi, sorry,” he pants, somehow still looking chipper. “I let dance practice run late and I didn’t wanna come here all sweaty. But, I brought snacks to make up for it!” He drops a bag of gummy bears on the table between the two of you, eyes sparkling. You sink back into your seat, averting your gaze as a sense of guilt washes over you.

“The library has a no food policy,” you mumble, and all it takes is a glance to see that Soonyoung’s smile has dropped a bit.

“Oh.” There’s a pause, and all you can hear is the rhythmic clicking of other students' keyboards, until suddenly there’s a crinkling sound and the bag is once again in your vision.

“That’s fine, you just take them then! As an apology for me being late.”

When you look up, considering denying his offering, you can’t help but pause. His smile is as gummy as the candy he’s offering, his cheeks looking just as squishy and his eyes glittering with anticipation. You feel your heart skip a beat as you accept, slipping the bag into your backpack.

“Thanks, Soonyoung,” you whisper, and he laughs.

“You can call me Hoshi, if you want. All my friends do.” This, too, gives you pause, but you shake it off and return his smile — albeit shyly.

“Okay, Hoshi.” You turn back to your laptop, missing the way his ears turn red, and pull up the Google Doc and Slideshow you had made for the project.

“I went ahead and shared the project materials with you, did you get them?”

It’s then that you realize Hoshi isn’t the best with technology. He looks a little bit like a confused grandfather as he leans in towards his screen, eyebrows furrowed and mouth slightly ajar.

“Everything okay?” You ask, and he lets out a little whine.

“It won’t let me type anything.” You tilt your head, equally confused. You had given him editing access, hadn’t you?

“Let me see.” Hoshi not only turns his laptop to you, but moves to the seat beside you to see what you do. You let out a little laugh as soon as you realize what it is.

“Ah, you weren’t in editing mode.” You switch his system over, and Hoshi leans back in his seat with an embarrassed pout on his lips. To put it mildly, it’s adorable, and you’re not sure how you’re going to deal with looks like that if he’s always this bad with his laptop.

Despite that little obstacle, Hoshi is relatively prepared. He’d found a couple of sources that he had to dig around in his bookmarks to get to again, and he seemed genuinely interested in working hard. The two of you laid out the basics of your project, throwing little notes into the doc and talking through your points.

“I can make some infographics for the project,” you offer. “I can probably have them ready by this weekend.”

“Should we meet up on Sunday then?” He asks. “We can go to a coffee shop! My treat!”

“Oh, no, you don’t have to—”

“I want to,” he interrupts, dark eyes sincere as one of his hands comes to rest reassuringly over your own. “You’ve been really helpful, and I’m not very good with technology so you’re going to end up doing a lot more than you should have to, so I want to make it up to you.”

Well, you don’t know how you’re supposed to say no to that when he’s smiling so cutely at you and his hand is on yours — so you don’t. You just nod and agree, before you both pack up your things. Hoshi carries your bag for you until the two of you part ways at the quad, him heading down to the house he rents with a few of his friends and you back to the dorms.

Later that night, as you’re checking your emails one last time before bed, you’re surprised to find a notification that Hoshi had made a relatively recent change to your Doc. You click to open it and can’t help but giggle at what you find.

I forgot to give you my number at the library!! (***)-***-***!!! ヽ(´▽`)/

You can’t help but think the emoticon looks just a little bit like him, and you fall asleep with a smile still lingering on your face. Kwon Soonyoung, you think, what a guy.

Hoshi texts you throughout the week — at first, just to ask questions about various little tech issues and what you think of the sources he’s found; you simply laugh when he asks you what font you like for the slideshow, but your best friend (who’s peeking over your shoulder) has a slightly different reaction.

“Oh my god,” she says. “He’s just coming up with random shit now!”

“Huh?”

“He’s just finding reasons to text you,” she continues, exasperated. “Like, fonts, seriously? He just wants to talk to you!” You shake your head, texting Hoshi that you don’t have a preference.

“No, he’s just bad with computers, that’s all. Besides, we barely know each other.” Your friend huffs.

“You’re oblivious.”

But as time goes by, you can’t really deny that he seems to be texting you about almost nothing. But you also can’t deny that you’re enjoying talking to him, with his excessive emoticons and use of exclamation points. Even when he’s distracting you from class, his messages leave a smile on your face.

And Hoshi is the King of Distractions. In fact, the next time you have class together, Hoshi repeatedly catches your eyes just to point at his phone to get you to check yours. You wonder how he’s been doing so well in class if he’s always like this, and so you mime back that he should take notes.

He pouts. It’s unfairly cute. He points at the phone again and you finally give in, rolling your eyes before tapping the screen.

You give him the most withering look of disbelief you can manage, and he only beams back at you like it’s the best thing he’s ever done in his life. You roll your eyes, but as you turn away you happen to glance at your phone again just in time to see his message before your screen fades to black.

Dork, you type back with a smile on your face. He’s just too cute to ignore. When you happen to glance up from your phone again, Hoshi is pouting more prominently than you’ve ever seen before. You try not to think it’s cute, try to keep from smiling, but you just can’t help it. It seems you just can’t help anything when it comes to him, at this rate.

Sunday comes and you’re less prepared than you’d like to admit. After sleeping through your alarm, you’d barely managed to remember to grab your laptop and charger to show Hoshi the infographics you were meeting to talk about before running out the door with your moisturizer barely slapped on. To say you were self-conscious entering the cafe, slightly winded and with stray hairs falling into your face from where you had it pulled back, would be an understatement.

You’re quick to find Hoshi, who is staring at you with his lips slightly parted, expression unreadable. The apologies burst from your mouth like a flood, barely pausing for a breath as you explain your morning situation.

“But don’t worry,” you say, plopping down onto the seat and smiling brightly at him as your laptop boots up. “The infographics are done!” Hoshi stares at you for a moment, that same expression from before still on his face before he shakes his head slightly and replaces it with a familiar smile.

“I’m sure they’re awesome,” he says, pushing his chair back. “Want anything? My treat.” It takes you a moment to decide on a pastry to go with your coffee, but his smile never once fades — he doesn’t seem even the slightest bit impatient, even as he goes to stand in line. At some point, he turns his head to try and catch your eye, and when he does he scrunches up his nose and smiles; you giggle and do your best to mimic his expression, and when you do he’s quick to turn away, but not before you see his cheeks turning pink. You wonder if he’s feeling alright.

He returns a moment later with both your coffees and two chocolate croissants on a plate. You push your laptop so he can see it and begin operating the mouse with one hand, taking your croissant in the other.

As is your usual tendency, you fall so far into explaining your work that you forget anything else — which is why you’re shocked to see Hoshi staring so intently at you and not the screen when you finally finish your spiel with a hopeful, “So?” He blinks rapidly, turning a little red again, before nodding enthusiastically at you.

“They look great!” He chirps, then takes a long drink of his coffee. You sigh in relief and do the same, turning your laptop back to yourself.

“Um, Y/N?” You hear him ask, and you lift your gaze from your screen.

“Hm?” Hoshi looks very determined, and although you don’t understand why, you realize it’s a very good look on him, one that leaves you feeling flustered.

“You have some chocolate on your face.” You immediately feel yourself turn red, and begin looking to see where the napkins are.

“Where?”

You feel a light touch on your chin, and Hoshi is suddenly leaning across the table towards you. His eyes are focused intently on your lips and it only makes you more self-conscious; your breath stalls in your chest.

“There,” he intones, his voice low as his thumb gently glides along the corner of your mouth. His gaze flicks up to meet yours, and you feel your heart skip a beat as a smile spreads across his face, “Perfect.”

Maybe his touch lingers, or maybe you’re just imagining things, but either way Hoshi sits back in his seat and goes back to munching on his croissant with no more than a light laugh, leaving you light-headed. You duck your head slightly, staring at your keyboard as you feel your face continue to burn, and wonder if you might still be asleep and dreaming.

If you are, you consider, you don’t really want to wake up.

Your best friend hits you with a pillow when you tell her about your café meeting with Hoshi.

“Hey!” You snap, swatting the pillow away from your face. “What was that for?” Your friend lets out a long-suffering groan and falls dramatically back onto your bed.

“I’ve failed you!” She wails, clutching the pillow to her chest. “A hot boy flirts with you and you don’t even notice!”

“I don’t know,” you say, plucking at a loose thread on your blanket. “Maybe it was nothing. It’s Hoshi, be realistic.” At the sudden quietness of your tone your friend lifts her head and fixes you with a glare.

“What exactly are you trying to say, Y/N?” You shift awkwardly beneath her gaze.

“Just… just that Hoshi is kinda out of my league, okay?” You’re not usually the type to think about leagues, but Hoshi has always seemed sort of untouchable to you, a polar opposite. He shines as bright as his nickname would imply and you tend to prefer not being noticed because it makes you anxious. The thought of Hoshi liking you feels a bit like Aphrodite liking Hephaestus, and you just can’t shake that little cloud of self-consciousness away.

“Y/N,” your friend says sternly, sitting up and forcing you to meet her eyes. “There is no reason for Kwon Soonyoung not to like you, and there is no reason you should reject him if you like him, too.” You press your lips into a thin line, frustrated that she’s making sense. Sometimes you really just want to be irrational and take the risk.

And you have a feeling that having your heart broken by Kwon Soonyoung is one hell of a risk to run.

The project goes much more smoothly than you previously expected, especially considering Hoshi’s schedule is as crazy as it is. You know that his club has an event coming up, so you try your best to keep the workload light on his end — not because you think he can’t handle it, but because he definitely seems to be pushing himself to the limit. His normally bright eyes seem duller when you catch him off guard, and the bags under his eyes are significantly heavier than before. Luckily, you’re both almost done with the whole thing after that long session in the cafe.

That doesn’t stop Hoshi from asking you about it after class one day. You barely notice him bounding up to you until he taps you on your shoulder, his face lit up in that familiar grin.

“Hey,” he chirps. “When should we meet to finish the project?” You can’t help but smile at him, and you lightly wave it off.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. I can finish it up.” Suddenly, Hoshi stops in his tracks, gently pulling at your sleeve so that you do the same. His face is now set in a pout, which is undeniably cute but you swear you won’t fall for it this time.

“That’s not very fair,” he grumbles. You avert your gaze, nervously playing with some of your hair,

“Well, I mean, it’s just that you’re so busy—”

“And you aren’t?” He interrupts, and you look up at him.

“I don’t run a club with a showcase coming up,” you argue, and Hoshi huffs, entirely unconvinced. After a moment, however, his expression suddenly shifts to a smile.

“How about this,” he begins. “You come to the showcase, and then afterwards we can finish the project together!”

“Won’t you be tired?” He shakes his head immediately, the sparkle back in his eyes.

“I’d never be too tired for you.”

You nod without even thinking, and Hoshi is excitedly bounding off before you can even consider what his words might mean.

After telling your roommate about Hoshi’s ‘compromise,’ she screams at you for a few minutes about how oblivious you are before telling you she’s going to pick out your outfit for the showcase whether you want her to or not. By the time the showcase has actually rolled around, you realize you actually do want her to figure out your outfit because suddenly you feel like you have nothing to wear.

However, she dresses you pretty simply. She shoves you into a cold shoulder style sweater you rarely ever wear and what she knows are your favorite jeans. She points to various shades of eyeshadow and has you apply it and your lip tint yourself, and as you stand in front of the mirror looking basically the same as always, you can’t help but look at her in confusion.

“Are you sure about this?” You ask, and she playfully shoves your shoulder.

“He already likes you, idiot. How you dress doesn’t really matter, I just knew you were gonna overthink it so I chose for you.” You stick your tongue out at her, annoyed at how well she knows you but grateful, nonetheless, that she’s helped you out so much. She even agrees to go to the showcase with you for moral support, since she knows you aren’t really into crowds.

The downside is that she isn’t above elbowing her way through the crowd to make sure you’re directly in front of the stage, where you and Hoshi will have a very clear view of one another. She stands beside you, squished so close that your arms brush together, and as the stage goes dark and the crowd falls silent you find yourself grabbing at her hand out of nervousness. She laughs at your antics but gives your fingers a reassuring squeeze.

A spotlight falls upon the stage, where Hoshi and the other three boys in his unit are lying on the floor in a pile, somehow still managing to look elegant. You bite down hard onto your lip the moment the music starts, and even though Hoshi isn’t the first to move you can’t seem to take your eyes off of him. This is Hoshi, you realize, so much fiercer than the tired, goofy boy you see in class. Someone has done his makeup, the eyeshadow smoked out into a dramatic wing that contrasts his pristine white clothing.

And then suddenly you realize they’re singing. All four of them, and you swear Soonyoung’s gaze catches yours right as he begins the first chorus and you’re ready to die, you are, holy shit—

Your mind falls completely blank from then on, and you only come to again when the lights fall and the crowd erupts into applause. Your best friend yanks her hand out of your grasp to clap along with them, and you do so as well, blinking rapidly to clear your mind. She gives you a teasing look and you don’t bother to sass her; you don’t have the brain power to say anything at all.

A few more members of the dance club perform, but Hoshi doesn’t come on stage again until the fourth song. This time, he and the three other boys are dressed in all black, and you realize with sudden and extreme force that Soonyoung’s shirt is mesh. You think of all the times you’ve seen him in baggy sweaters and t-shirts, looking comfortable and cozy and overall like a great cuddler — you hadn’t ever considered he would have abs, even though you probably should have given his dancing regimen. You can feel your best friend’s elbow nudging your side, but you’re too laser-focused on Soonyoung to give her even a sliver of your attention.

You don’t think you’ve ever been mad that a person looks sexy before. First time for everything.

When the performance ends, you’re shocked to find Hoshi’s gaze locked with yours. A shiver runs down your spine at the intensity of his gaze, and although you know you’re blushing you can’t bring yourself to look away until the lights fall once more, plunging you into darkness. You can hardly hear the applause over the thundering of your heart in your ears, and as people begin gathering their belongings and moving to the back of the auditorium space, your best friend takes hold of your arm excitedly.

“Okay, we have to go backstage!”

That snaps you out of it.

“What? No!” You shake your head wildly, but your best friend merely continues to smile. “Most of the crew has no clue who we are, we can’t just walk backstage—”

“Well we can’t just leave after all that,” she retorts, smirking devilishly. You cover your cheeks with your hands, hoping to quell the raging blush.

“I hate you,” you grumble, squeezing your eyes shut. “Why can’t we just wait here, or—?”

“Y/N!” Your eyes snap open, and you find that your best friend is now gazing past you, towards the doors you know lead backstage.

“Oh my God,” you breathe, barely audible, but your anxious response goes ignored as your best friend waves to Hoshi excitedly.

“Hey Hoshi! Great job tonight, is Minghao back there still?” She’s standing before he even answers her question, and you’re pretty sure she would’ve walked away regardless of if Minghao was around or not. You curse yourself for forgetting that the two are lab partners. As she walks away, you take a deep, calming breath, and fix a smile to your face. When you turn, Soonyoung is already standing in front of you, dressed in a plain black shirt and sweats with just his familiar smile on his face.

“Hey,” he greets, beaming. You feel your heart skip a beat.

“Hi.” Why does your voice sound so small? “You did great, but I’m sure you know that already.” He laughs, eyes sparkling in excitement.

“I do, but it’s still nice to hear you say it,” he replies, looking extremely pleased as you feel the blush rising high on your cheeks once again. You find yourself rendered speechless, thinking of the intensity of his eyes when they met yours on stage. Thankfully, he’s the first to break the silence, smiling fondly down at you in your seat.

“I was gonna go for bubble tea. Do you wanna come with? My treat.” Looking up into his bright, smiling eyes, you wonder how you could ever say no.

“Sure, let me just text my roommate and let her know.”

The bubble tea place Hoshi takes you to is only a few minutes’ walk from campus, and the majority of that journey is passed in amicable silence. You keep sneaking glances at Hoshi, although each time you do it makes you flustered and you ought to be avoiding that kind of situation. True to his word, when you get to the shop he pays for both of your orders before you can say a thing. As you leave the shop, preferring to walk back towards campus while the weather is nice, you find yourself breaking the silence,

“If you keep treating me like this, I’ll never be able to repay you.” You look up at him with a pout, but he just responds with his usual good humor, gently nudging you with his elbow.

“Who said anything about repaying me?” He asks. “You deserve to be treated to things, anyways.” You let out a sigh as he sips on his drink, running a hand through your hair.

“But I feel bad. I’ve hardly done anything for you since we met.” Hoshi hums, glancing at you thoughtfully for a moment before replying.

“You could repay me by going on a date with me,” he says, so casually that you nearly choke on a tapioca pearl. Thankfully, you manage to wash it down with a sip of tea, though looking into Soonyoung’s serious, star-filled gaze makes you feel just as breathless as any coughing fit would have.

“I—” He waits patiently on your response, standing before you on the sidewalk, the gentle breeze ruffling his hair. “Wouldn’t you still be paying, then?”

For a moment, in the silence that falls after your response, you worry that you’ve ruined it all. And then, true to his nature, he breaks into laughter, running a hand through his hair. As his face tilts slightly towards the streetlight, you realize he’s blushing — just as nervous as you are — and can’t help but smile.

“Ah, that’s a good point,” he says, sighing. He fixes you with a playful grin, “But maybe I should just keep you in debt to me.” You laugh and playfully prod his shoulder, stepping closer to him.

“Or,” you reply, slowly looking up to meet his gaze, hoping your confidence holds. “Maybe, once we ace this project, I could take you on a date.” Somehow, his eyes seem to sparkle even brighter once he hears your response, and the smile that splits across his face is blinding.

“Deal,” he says, softly, gaze falling to your lips.

As you find the burst of confidence to close the gap between the two of you, you find yourself wondering if you’ll be able to wait until the project is finished to treat Soonyoung to that date. When he smiles against your lips, wrapping his arms around your waist and inadvertently pressing his cup of tea into your side, causing you to shiver and melt further into his embrace, you realize that the answer to that is no.

And you couldn’t be happier.

#hoshi imagines #Hoshi scenarios #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen fanfic #seventeen texts #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #kpop fanfiction #kpop reactions #kpop writing #kpop scenarios #kpop texts #My writing

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touchmycoat · 4 years ago

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OP!Anon for Leverage!HX/LQG: *SCREAM* oh I adore how you wrote this - HX is so good at reading everyone and understanding how to motivate/manipulate them, except for lqg. I love how angry he got at the idea of lqg seeing him in the same light as swd, and also how lqg's just like, yep, swd's gotta die when he heard the full story. I love the idea of HC coming in like the king he is and laying down the law about XL. ahhhhhhh!!!! just imagining hx and lqg getting close after lots of shenanigans!

teamwork baby

"Xue Yang must die" is literally one of my favorite WWX quotes of all time LMFAO time to pay homage

so you know how in book 3, during the Black Water arc, HX is there trying to push his whole scheme forward? It's well-timed, well-thought-out, but the only fucking spanner that keeps jumping back into his work is XL-and-therefore-HC? Yeah I imagine working with grifter!HC is pretty much like that. He's always late or never shows up at all to briefings, or he shows up to the very end to hear the conclusion and goes "Nope, that's fucking stupid, change it." SQQ's like "Why??" and HC's like "oh, lil boy can't figure it out?"

and whenever they have an actual plan going, HC sometimes just shows up and starts doing his own thing in the middle and forces HX to keep up. This is often motivated by one of XL's jobs, and XL would ask if HC knows a little piece of intel, and HC would be like "oh you know what, I actually have a hostage right here to ask about that, one moment please :)" and utterly prioritize XL's thing. HX has to change the job on the fly so many times, and it's so fucking annoying, but it's not like HC leaves him at a dead end, so he always does find a way out.

(this got fucking long, but HX/LQG under the cut)

Bingliushen are also annoyed as fuck, but while they're godtier at their own things, none of them are mastermind-level (yet—Binghe's gonna get there, isn't he), so they just have to put their faith in HX and keep chugging forward. This is how the foundation builds, y'know? HX insists to both others and himself that he's being honest and faithful to his team because that's just the best way to handle them, not 'cause he's actually a team player and not 'cause he cares for anybody at all. And LQG's a simple guy—you save my life, I'll save yours. You act in good faith, I'll be loyal in turn.

It starts with something small. HX's suffered tremendous loss, and has been on his own for a very, very long time. He's used to taking care of himself, but we all know LQG's love language is "here, you dropped this. I've been quietly paying attention to everything you like and do, no big deal." So maybe it happens on a mission. HC has three marks to dupe in succession, and they're playing a nasty Big Pharma group, so it's hitting close to home for HX. At the last minute though, HC says over the comm, "the CEO & CFO made me. Must've recognized me from speaking to the secretary earlier. He Xuan."

"Can you still do the COO?"

"I'm not about to waste this outfit, am I."

and HX has to hop in and do 2/3rds of the grifting himself, which is fine, he's completely capable of this, he's a goddamn prodigy at hiding his murderous tendencies. but out of nowhere LQG is on the line, "Shen Qingqiu, you said you can hack the finances, right?"

"Yes, but nothing else."

"Then He Xuan doesn't have to talk to the CFO. Give me 2 minutes, I'll knock him out."

and HX doesn't stop him because sure, why not? It was more efficient for HC to do three of them at once, but now that it was HX doing it (and HX still has his own part to play), it would save them more effort if LQG goes for the blunt force solution. But it rubs HX the wrong way—what the fuck? Yeah, HX may not like grifting as much as HC, the stupid drama queen, but hasn't he proven himself every bit as capable of it? Why did LQG think it necessary to, what, bail him out?

So that night, after debrief, HX pulls LQG aside to give him a piece of his mind. "Don't ever try to override my judgment again." "What are you talking about?" "I made a call, I did not need your 'help' on the grift." "That wasn't help." "Then what was it." "You hate talking to guys like that!" "???" "You didn't need to talk to him, and I was right there. It was the obvious thing to do."

and HX still doesn't get it, not until the next day, when SQQ and HX are quietly setting up for the morning, and SQQ says out of the blue, "that's just how he cares. Liu Qingge, I mean. It's never an ego thing once he's your friend."

"I don't need friends," is HX's automatic response.

"No," SQQ snorts in agreement. "You need revenge. That's fine. Then I'm sure he'll get over it."

Which—okay—no? Bastard. That's just a passive aggressive attempt at a guilt trip, and it's not going to work. HX has already made it abundantly clear from the get-go that this was simply a job, he was the pointman, once they were done everybody will go on their way. It's not his fault SQQ dragged in a hitman with the loyalty instincts of a german shepherd, and it's certainly none of his business whether LQG treats him as friend or a colleague.

LQG will just have to be disappointed.

BUT OF COURSE WHAT GOES ON TO HAPPEN IS THAT HX sees more and more of the things LQG does, the ways LQG manages to be thoughtful. The way LQG handles visitors during HX’s mealtimes despite how much LQG hates talking to randos, bc HX has bad food days and can’t really stand eating with others. The time they had some time to kill undercover in a consultant’s office, and HX passed the time by pointing out all the things wrong with the office’s mini-aquarium set-up, so when SQQ brought up something inane about decorating their headquarters, LQG made HX draw up specs for a saltwater tank of their own. HX and everybody else kept insisting it was a waste of time, but LQG still went ahead and got it made anyways, and now it’s HX’s favorite thing in the entire HQ.

But HX wasn’t about to owe anybody anything. If LQG insists on this game, then fine, HX was going to play to win. He requisitions new toys (read: weapons) for LQG, he builds heists around the sole purpose of giving LQG a room of satisfying bad guys to beat up, he goes to the gym and spars with LQG, he even tries to give LQG’s weirdly famous younger sister’s novel a read—which was a lot. Ahem. But LQG loves his younger sister, so surely this would be the ultimate “hah! I’ve given you more than you’ve given me! I win! move.

...turns out LQG’s never read the damn thing, and just takes everything HX gives him in total stride. “We still on for tomorrow?” “...Yes.” “Cool. See you.” And HX’s over here totally overthinking EVERYTHING while LQG’s just chilling, super matter-of-fact.

Fuck, were they friends???

HX rage-panics, because he does. not. need. friends. And it has nothing to do with how everyone he’s ever loved dies, it has nothing to do with the careful balance of vengeful fury and self-hatred inside him that’s about to tip over any day now, once they take down SWD. It has nothing to do with HX being too traumatized and grief-stricken to imagine moving on from revenge, to ever imagine being simply content again.

His eating habits get worse. One day he snaps at LQG for pining so much after SQQ. “You already know he’s never going to return your feelings. It’s embarrassing to watch you insist on giving so much when he’s not going to give anything back.”

“Shut up,” LQG snaps, “it’s not about getting anything back.”

But that makes it worse. Of course HX wasn’t actually talking about SQQ, though sure, that’s annoying too. LBh obviously knows, so why can’t they take their infernal flirting somewhere private, instead of flaunting it in front of LQG all the time?? But the fault’s with LQG too, what with all the giving. He should find someone more worthy of his affections and stop wasting his time here.

HX cuts everything he and LQG has built up in one fell swoop—completely gives him the cold shoulder. Only ever talks about work, no more dry quips, no more infodumps on niche hobbies. HX wishes he could destroy the tank at HQ, but that would be way too confrontational at this stage.

Until one mission, when LQG knows HX is not in a good place, and keeps trying to argue HX out of doing something excessively risky. HX rounds on him and says, “you’re just a hired gun, so shut up and shoot where I'm pointing, or you can pack your things and get out.”

LQG goes red, then white, and storms away.

“Nice sucker punch,” HC comments idly where he’s lounging on the side. Who knows when the fuck he showed up. “Right where it hurts.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t tell me you don’t know. His five-year stint with the Sha City Demons?”

Of course HX knows about that. He’s looked thoroughly into everybody’s backgrounds. But what does that have to do with this?

“Gege is the best at this, after all. See you and I, we stopped asking questions once we knew the name, because we don’t think people are ever as pure and good as they pretend to be. But you know what Dianxia said, after I mentioned Liu Qingge’s old gig to him? ‘Five years, hm? I wonder what they had on him. In my experience, men like Liu Qingge don’t work for crews like the Sha Demons. And in order to sink their claws deeper into men like him, the Demons always make them do the worst jobs.’ Just a hired gun indeed.”

That’s right. LQG gets a Moreau backstory of his own. HX feels his heart sink to the pit of his stomach.

“Fuck.”

“I don’t know why you’re so stressed out about it. He is just a hired gun—”

“You know why. Fuck.”

“So get out of my face and do something about it already. You know where he’s gone, I know you’ve put trackers on your entire team.”

“...”

“You didn’t? No, you didn’t put one on him? My god, you do care.”

While HC’s busy sounding disgusted, HX is reeling. He just sent the best hitman in the field packing, and was an absolute dick about it. He was not a kind man, but he also wasn’t a cruel one. He believes in fairness, and everything he said simply had not been fair. It had all been his own guilt and issues talking; if he really didn’t give a damn, then he wouldn’t have...done all this.

“How much are you willing to pay?” HC says, swiping at his phone.

“What?”

“Because I don’t trust any of you, and did put a tracking device on Liu Qingge.” He sure has—HC is waving the loading tracking app in HX’s face. “So I’m asking, how much are you willing to pay?”

...And that’s the reason why HX owes HC so much damn money.

#leverage AU #he xuan #lqg #anon this is so much fun TTTTTT #i'm about to rewatch leverage 'cause of you

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slashingdisneypasta · 4 years ago

Text

Sheriff Hoyt / Charlie Hewitt x Reader || Oneshot

Title: Twenty Years Separated and Getting Divorced

Notes:

This is inspired by Sweet Home Alabama, with Reese Witherspoon and Josh Lucas.

Plot: After 20 years you finally come back to the town you grew up in, which is now basically non-existent except for a couple ghost buildings and wild cows to find your husband and his family, who are the only ones crazy enough to still live there, and get your fucking divorce finalised.

Warnings: Swearing, divorce?

~~~

Hoyt sees me strolling up to the house before I even reach the porch. Our eyes meet, a short moment of nostalgia passes quickly- and World War 3 begins.

“Well, hi to you too! Just fabulous to see you, after… half a goddamn century.” Charlie gets up from his seat on the porch and now stands up to 5 feet taller than me… because he’s still on the god forsaken porch and I’m the ground. Goddamn, his ego’s still as big as that ridiculous hat that he’s wearing now. Since when is he sheriff? He didn’t even go to college- I know; I’ve been married to him since we were 18. “Fucking city slicker.”

My jaw falls open. City slicker?? “You know damn well I grew up right here, you two-bit drama queen. And I live in Alice Springs now. Maybe it ain’t your country but it is still butt crack nowhere, you old fucking coot!” After a second, I also say. “And I’m not even 50 years old yet, you asshole!”

“Pft.” He chews on something in his mouth, maybe his cheek, and sets his jaw. “You lived here, what? 20 years ago then? If you wanna get specific about it.” Okay, that’s better, more accurate at least, but I could’ve done without the attitude. “You lived somewhere else more than half your life- don’t go gettin’ excited and acting like you’re a local.”

I mean, going by that logic I’m a fuck-ton more southern then he is- Australia’s as southern as it gets without living in Antarctica. But I digress. We need to get this show on the road.

“I did not come all the way here to argue with you Charlie.” I roll my eyes and sigh deeply, stomping up the porch stairs to meet him at the top, scrunching up my shoulders and feeling slightly sick when he leans over the steps a moment later and spits thick brown shit into the dirt. Why is he always spitting? Why! If he has excess saliva like that, he should go get himself checked out! And if he’s chewing tobacco, then he fucking needs to stop! Restraining myself from saying so though by taking a deep breath as he straightens up again, I instead hold out the A4, manilla yellow envelope that encases our divorce papers - already signed by me, - to him… which he just looks at, of course. Difficult, ancient bastard. “I’ll pay!”

“Is that your way of askin’ for a divorce, honey bear?”

“Why, yes.” I smile, already feeling the relief of cutting ties from this man.

“Then I sweetly decline.” The smile is wiped off my face, and sketched onto his instead. He turns around and goes on into his home, letting the screen door slam shut hard behind him, too, after he gets in.

I sigh in frustration, close to a scream and stand there uselessly for a second before barging in after him and am about to yell for him to get back here, before a rustling sound alerts me to the door on my right and Luda Mae comes out of it. Closing it carefully shut behind her.

Immediately, my mood calms down considerably and I feel a startling, familiar warmth in my chest. The mood Charlie put me in just a second ago all but disappears seeing her. “Luda Mae!”

The moment she realises it’s me, she beams. “Oh, dear. I thought I heard you arguing outside with Hoyt, but I didn’t believe it!”

“Hoyt?” I blink, still smiling but in a confused way. Am I missing something?

“O-oh, I meant Charlie. Sorry, baby.”

After a tight hug we let go and assess each other.

I’m happy to see that she looks healthy. A little sweaty and tired, but she’s always been that way. It’s hard to not be, living here. It’s hot all day, every day - hell, they barely have winter in this part, -, and she’s never really been a summer kind of girl. I suggested to her a couple times that she could move away, but she always said that this is where their family had always lived- and they will always live here. Its where Charlie got it from.

I’m just getting to her eyes, and noticing of course immediately, the sad change in them from the last time I was here and forming a way to ask her if she’s okay when she tucks some grey hair behind her ear and asks me how I am. To be polite of course, I answer. Expecting to ask her the same right after.

“Aw, I’m doing just fine! Trying to get your stubborn son to give me a divorce, but apart from that life’s treating me well. I would love it if you could come visit me sometime in Australia, I have a guest bedroom where I picked the wallpaper and I just know you would love it. Soon as I looked at it, it was so you!” Her eyes brighten at the idea and she’s about to, bashfully decline I’m guessing, but Charlie stomps heavily down the old wooden stairs again like the attention seeking hippopotamus that he is. Has to let everyone know he’s entering. I roll my eyes. “Why don’t you just get a career on the stage, Charlie; They’ll announce your entrance for you. Jee-sus. Save you some time!”

He flashes me an unimpressed and joyless smile, as Luda Mae covers her mouth - not to hide her laughter from her son, but to be polite. She’s classy; I always liked that about her. In fact, I tried to be just like her growing up… I failed, but I still admire the quality on her, - and laughs a bit at my quip. Pride blossoms in my chest and makes me smile wider.

“You keep sweet talking me like that and I’ll never divorce you.”

My smile turns into a scowl and glare. “What do you want from me?”

“Oh, wouldn’t you like to know?” He stops beside Luda and drops the barrel of his shotgun back against his shoulder, like a soldier in Buckingham palace. What does he need that for right now?! “Besides, I’m too expensive for you darlin’.”

“I hate you.” I say slowly, so it gets through his skull and he understands. “And you hate me.” He nods in agreement, still looking far too smug and pleased with himself. “So why can’t we get divorced and never talk again?!” I fail to see a downside!!

“Cuz I like to see your feathers all ruffled.”

“You-“ A slew of insults are about to break free of my lips, but a loud, popping bang comes from the kitchen like something tried to get out, making me look startled from the closed door to the room, to Charlie and Luda Mae. “What was that!?”

“Well… “Charlie looks thoughtful for a second, like he truly doesn’t know what to tell me, before slowly turning his gaze on Luda. “I believe Momma just blew up her pie.”

“Wha- “For half a second, Luda Mae looks like she’s about to slap her son all the way to Tim Buk Tu, before smoothening out her features again and turning back to me. Pasting an honestly believable, bashful smile on her face and speaks in a restrained voice that gives away her displeasure. “Yes. Must have lost track of time.”

Well, clearly that’s a bare faced lie. “Nice try. Charlie can pull off a lie like that, but you cant, Luda. What is it?”

Her smile softens and in two seconds she has smacked Charlie -not enough to hurt. It’s just a warning slap for trying to make her sound like a bad baker when we all here know how great she is, - and takes my arm in hers, guiding me across the hall and into the living room. “Really darling, its nothing. Thomas’ havin’ a bad day. I’m sure he’ll buck right back up though when he sees you! Are you going to stay for dinner?”

Looking behind us, I squint dangerously at Charlie. “If Charlie won’t sign these now, I might not have a choice!” Turning back to Luda, I genuinely smile. “But I would genuinely love to stay and see Thomas and Monty too, and eat your cooking! Thank you for the invitation. Maybe I can help with dinner! I have gotten better since the last time I was here.”

Charlie scoffs at my words, walking in after me and beating us to the chairs. He drops down in a recliner while Luda sits us down on the couch together. “You mean when you broke my oven?” She grins, a cheeky glint in her eye and I sigh, embarrassed.

“Yes… “Giggling, I cover my face a moment before jumping back into the fray. “But I really have gotten better!”

“I’d love to see that dear.” And the great thing is, she really does seem to. She would give any number of chances just to see one of her kids - me included, even if I am just her daughter in law. For now, - succeed. For a moment the room is just silent, and I let myself remember what it was like to be here all the time - the good things, I mean. Don’t you worry though, I remember the bad things like fighting tooth and nail with Charlie better the anything, - and how that felt, before Luda claps her hands.

She doesn’t like emotional stuff, Luda. Charlie’s a drama queen, but that’s where the emotion showing stops in this family. Thomas takes after his mother in not being too emotional, ever, and Monty prefers to keep to himself. He always has, and he goes by that philosophy regarding everything. “Well, I’m assuming there’ll be no driving off after dinner- the airport is a solid 4-hour drive! And you will not be driving that long at night.” She sets me with a cold, stern look over her glasses for a moment and even though I’m a 40-year-old woman, I submissively nod to her like a teenager. “You’ll stay in the spare room! Hoyt- Charlie. Sorry. Go change the sheets in there, and I’ll go get Monty to give you company while I start up dinner! Chop chop.”

“Wh- Did you forget she’s here tryin’ t’ divorce me, Momma? I ain’t offering the bitch any pleasantries like that! -“

“You will and you will do it with your mouth shut, Charlie.” Luda Mae gets up to her feet and Charlie and I both crane our necks to see her face. She gets much quieter, and her gaze goes dark like a parents’ does when they’re pissed. “And watch your mouth.”

Charlie bows his head and gets up from his seat, going off to do as she says. “R-Right, momma.”

My grin gets so big it turns into a laugh, leaning back into the couch cushions as I watch Charlie walk off up the stairs, flipping me off when Luda leaves the room.

~~~TIME SKIP~~~

In the middle of the night, I get the bight idea to get the divorce done, immediately. If I don’t, I’ll just let time fly by again with Luda Mae and Monty, and Thomas who’s a grown up now, and I’ll never get it done. It has to be done now.

So I get out of bed, pull on my coat since I didn’t bring my dressing gown, grab the manilla file and a pen and leave the room. It doesn’t take me long to get to Charlie’s, seeing as its just down the hall, and I don’t knock before barging in. I close the door veeeeery slowly, and quietly, then sneak around to his side of the bed and take the shotgun that’s leaning against the bedside table, the handgun that sits on it, and the knife under his pillow- I still know my husband, thank you very much. And I know that if he hears someone in his room at night eh will not think or look, before shooting me in the head.

Dropping all the weapons carefully on the armchair in the corner of the room, no longer trying to be quiet as I sit down on the side of his bed that Charilie is not sleeping on. His eyes burst open at feeling the bed dip, and as he looks over to my form, his hand reaches out to grab the handgun of course, and… he calms down immediately to his cranky, exhausted, middle-of-the-night mess. “Y/N? What the fuck are you doing in here?? This ain’t your room anymore, piss off!”

“I know that, silly!” As he forces himself to sit up and carefully lean his back on the headboard, I hold up the manilla folder. I beam. “Just thought this would be a good time to get our affairs in order!”

“Well,” He takes a gulp from the water on his nightstand. He swallows it like it’s a rock, or a large pill. Is it even water? “You were wrong.”

“Au contrair, mon frair.” I grin, looking around behind me and on the other side of the room for something hard to write on. Ah! Hopping off the bed for a second, I grab a large hardbacked recipe book. “It is the perfect time! You’re sleepy, which makes you 90 percent more likely to be swayed into signing these papers.” I pop the book on his lap, along with the appropriate papers and the pen. “There you go; Now remember, once you sign these, we never have to look at each other’s faces, ever, again. Think about how lovely that’ll be.”

Still with the suspicious liquid at his chin, Charlie slowly raises his eyebrows at me. “Girl, you better get those papers off my lap right now or I’m gonna tear ‘em up.”

“Eep!” Immediately, I snatch them back. Then glare at him as he takes another sip of the drink. “Please.”

“Ain’t no good manners ever made any difference with me.”

I let out a deep sigh, in utter frustration at him.

I turn fully to him, completely comfortable seeing him in his bed shirt and boxers this way- it’s been 20 years and his hair’s going grey, but it still feels natural, fine, to be like this with Charlie. That does not, though, mean that I want to be here. I cross my arms, leaning my shoulder into the headboard. “Why? Why wont you divorce me? Do you hate me that much?”

“No, ‘sweetie’. I love you that much.” I watch him as he sets his jaw, takes yet another sip and glances at me. I gesture for the glass, and he hands it to me.

Taking a gulp as I turn to settle my back against the headboard, I’m pleased to find that the water is not actually water. It’s vodka. Good, I need this after a statement like that from Charlie. “No, you don’t.”

“Don’t try to tell me what I do or don’t know.” Taking the glass back from me when I finish it off, he sets it on the table. I can tell he’s still sleepy, and aching to go back to dreamland, as his words are gentler than usual, and his movements are a struggle. “Bottom line is, Y/N. I’m finally getting everything I every wanted- and I’m not gonna to let you slip through the cracks again.”

“Hard to believe, Charlie. You never tried to contact me during those, oh, 20 years I was gone?” Turning my head, I raise my eyebrows at him.

Groaning from the effort, he turns around in his spot, takes one pillow from behind him and gives it to me. “Yeah, well, I was a bit busy helpin’ Mama raise Tommy. I never stopped thinkin’ a’ you as my wife, though. You’re mine, sugar. Whether you like it right now, or not.”

“What’s this for?” I ask, holding the pillow with a confused look.

“Sleep. Its too damn late for this conversation.” My jaw drops, as Charlie lays back down in his bed and snuggles under the blankets, closing his eyes. “If you sleep here, we can talk about this as soon as we wake up; If you go to your room, you’ll have to wait til’ dinner. Then Mama’ll make you stay another night… I suggest you lay down.” With that, he pats the bed as if as an order, and after a moment of thought I groan. Evil, conniving bastard.

I take off my jacket and lay it at the end of the bed, then get under the covers and lay down my head on the pillow, half annoyed and half ready to sleep- it is late, after all. I am pretty tired. And one more night in bed with Charlie isn’t going to kill me, besides… him still loving me? The news does give me something new to think about. It… it needs to be factored in.

A moment passes where we just lay on the different sides of the bed, him with his eyes closed and probably 2 seconds from entering a hypnogogic state and me unable to get comfortable, before I sigh in frustration again and just decide to try something.

Crossing the space between us without warning, I wrap my arms around his middle in a hug, and press my face the nook between where his throat is and his shoulder, smelling a shock of his scent for the first time in 2 decades and closing my eyes to it, trying to ignore the fast paced beating in my chest.

Goddamnit, it worked. I’m comfortable as fuck now.

Charlie doesn’t comment, thankfully, and just makes a sleepy noise and reciprocates the cuddle, pulling my body closer to him by the waist. My heart beats extra fast at it, but I try to focus on going to sleep.

Cuddling with your soon-to-be ex husband and enjoying it means nothing, right? Haha… hopefully.

#Charlie Hewitt x Reader #Sheriff Hoyt x Reader #Luda Mae Hewitt #Monty Hewitt #Thomas Hewitt #Oneshot #Charlie Hewitt x Reader Oneshot #Sheriff Hoyt x Reader Oneshot

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slashiest-slasher · 5 years ago

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michael, jason, billy lenz, brahms, and thomas hewitt with a s/o who's deceptively strong? like they go to manhandle them one day, or maybe there's a fight/argument and s/o just goes "lmao nope" and pick them or someone else up like a bratty cat????

this is such a fucking mood my dude. i do this to my friends all the time when they're being lil shits and standing in my way on purpose. just boop! pick 'em up and plop 'em down somewhere else | ￣︶￣|o but i'm a big ol' soft boy so is surprises them every single time

‘nother read more bc i physically cannot stop myself from writing hella lot. warnings for nsfw-ish bits with billy lenz and brahms

Michael Myers

- You must've done something to royally piss Michael off, because he has been trying to stab you all day. And normally, you would brush it off as him trying to spook you, but he had gotten a slash in on your thigh that stings like a fucking bitch.

- Okay Michael, you want to dance, then let's dance.

- The next time you see him he's coming at you with his knife, you're prepared. He doesn't expect you to tackle him around the middle, and hoist him over your shoulder like he was nothing but a sack of potatoes. It startles him enough that he drops his knife.

- And he doesn't expect to not be able to squirm out of the grasp you have on his wrists after you dump him on the couch and crawl on top of him.

- You had looked to weak, so pathetic. That was part of the reason Michael spared you in the first place. But now the tables have turned, and while Michael never really like relinquishing his power, to anyone he lets it go just this once. And whatever reason he thought of that made him want to kill you is forgotten.

- But you forget that Michael is stealthy, and thinks he's just as strong as as you are. So he can and will sneak up on you and pick you up. But you easily overpower him. You think he would learn from the first time, but Michael is determined to get one over you.

- The only time he finally, finally learns that you're stronger than him is when you hold him down and tie him to the bed, and have your wicked way with him. It might not entirely be a bad thing for you to be stronger than him.

- But that still doesn't change the fact that Michael thinks he's stronger than you.

Jason Voorhees

- Okay so, you could understand why Jason always wanted to kill the people that trespassed onto Camp Crystal Lake. It was his camp, and campers had killed his mother (even though it was out of self defense). And a lot of the people that came here were, frankly douchebags. But c'mon Jason, these are just some friends that want to go on a camping trip!

- And he outright ignores you, and locks you in your cabin, as if that's going to stop you. You get to the campers before him, because while he may know the lay of the land better, you are overall lighter and faster than him. All it takes is a warning of a serial killer on the loose and flashing a fake police badge for them to pack up and leave, heading to a motel you recommended.

- And Jason is /not/ happy. If he could yell, he would, but instead he grumbles and groans as loudly as he can and stamps his foot. Angry enough, it seems, to try and pick you up and wrangle you back to the cabin. But oh, ho, ho Jason! You're not in the mood for playing around!

- Jason is yet another victim of being effortlessly thrown over your shoulder, and he has no clue what's going on when it happens, until you're halfway back to the cabin. Even then, he's unable to squirm out of that iron clad grasp of yours until you let him go in the cabin, and decide that you're spending the night in town if Jason's going to be in a mood.

- He is absolutely flabbergasted, so shocked that he can't function until you're long gone.

- But you're so tiny. He was almost touching the ground even despite you carrying him. And even though he should feel indigated at the whole experience, it reminded him too much of his mother. Yes, Jason was always a well behaved boy, but there were occasions where he acted up and Pamela had to carry him to his room for a timeout.

- And Pamela recalls this fondly, and says that you're going to be such a good parent if the two of you ever got around to having kids together, even though Jason's pretty sure he can't even have kids with someone, let alone with you.

- Oh well, a mother can dream.

Billy Lenz

- Of course you know Billy's hiding up in the attic of the sorority, but it's not like you're going to spill the beans and tell anyone. Technically, you weren't supposed to be here either, but the girls were letting you crash here during the fallout of some dorm drama. There was an empty room they could never decide on someone to stay there, so it was all yours.

- And Billy loved breaking into your room in the middle of the night. Barb might've had a tongue on her, but you were the one ballsy enough to tell Billy "not to threaten you with a good time" and "put his money where his mouth is if he's man enough". And as far as the girls of the house knew, you had a secret boyfriend who you would have a go at in the middle of the night. Yeah, the people who couldn't sleep through it weren't happy about the noise, but no one suspected it was Billy who was making you moan like that.

- And you had told Billy to knock it off for the night, because everyone was drinking, and everyone was passed out in the living room. And even though they sleeping solidly, Billy knew how loud you got when he slipped his hand in your pants and played with you, let alone his mouth. He was crouching between your legs, trying to shimmy your trousers off, and licking his lips as his mouth watered, so you knew exactly how this was going to go.

- Phyl was starting to shift and groan, so there was no time to waste. Pulling your pants back up and buttoning them as quickly as you could, you tossed Billy over your shoulder in a fireman's carry and sprinted up the stairs, and crawled up into the attic without so much as batting an eye.

- Billy however, oh dear Billy was so shocked that until you dumped him down on the mattress in the attic he slept on. As soon as he was set down, he jumped at you, mouthing at your neck and pulling you down onto the mattress with him, begging you to "Play with naughty Billy again, play with Billy until you make him scream.".

- Sufficed, Billy is very, very excited, and wholeheartedly supports any shows of excessive strength when it comes to him. He may initially have loved holding power over you, and don't get him wrong, he still does, but the way you can pick him up and treat him like a doll really gets him going.

Brahms Heelshire

- Bratty, baby Brahms is a mad cuddle fiend. In any regard, in any way you'll let him. Big spoon, little spoon, forking, laying against each other, hugs, Brahms will take anything you give him, even if it's just holding hands.

- And he knows you love them just as much as he does, and he does use this against you all the time.

- No, no, we don't need to eat breakfast just yet, we can lay in bed a few more hours.

- Fine, you can go pee, but Brahms will hold your hand the entire time (because he knows you'll let him).

- But this was it, this was the final straw. Brahms was sitting in your lap, facing you, arms wound around your neck and snuggled quite happily against the side of your face while you tried to read a book over his shoulder.

- But by God, Brahms reeked. You know baths weren't his favorite, but he had been running through the walls for days while something in the house was being fixed by a construction crew. His entire body reeked from sweat, his hair was greasy, and he certainly hadn't changed his clothes the entire time. You liked when Brahms had a musk about him, but this was too much for you.

- It was a back and forth for the past hour of trying to get Brahms to get up and bathe. You would tell Brahms he was a stinky boy, and he would say five more minutes. Enough was enough. When you grab Brahms' ass, at first he finally thinks you've caved to have fun times with him, but when you stand up and keep him held up by those hands, he wraps himself around you in an effort not to be dropped.

- Even though he has probably been though longer falls than this would be, he begs you to please put him down, but you do not waver. Regardless of how spooked he is, he is also incredibly turned on, knowing that you could take him up against a wall whenever you wanted, or even *gasp* carry him around like the baby he is!

- You can appreciate him shutting up, but in retrospect, him rutting against you and letting out those deep whines might be harder to deal with. Especially when tries pulling you closer by digging his heels into the small of your back. Another adventure for another day, you think, when you dump him into the shower and crank the cold water on full blast, clothes and all.

- Brahms isn't exactly happy about that, but it's a non-issue for you to strip and pin him down in the tub to fling his sopping clothes off and scrub him down with a loofah and wash his hair.

- When Brahms is finally clean, and sitting on his bed in a towel, he carefully plots his revenge. And oh, he will get his revenge. He just needs to figure out how to work around your freakish strength first.

Thomas Hewitt

- So you don't know what entirely is up with the Hewitt's yet, but you know it's something pretty bad is everyone else avoids them, or refuses to talk about them. But you had moved into town with your family quite a bit ago, and you had eyes for their son Thomas.

- You didn't know what the fuss was about when you popped into their gas station and asked his uncle (brother?), Charlie, for proper permission to take him out for a date. After all, it was the only polite thing to do, since you rarely saw Thomas out and about without one of his family members after he stopped showing up to the new school.

- If Luda Mae hadn't stopped him, you would've had your head blown clean off. Luda Mae let you down kinder, saying she was real happy someone had eyes for Thomas, but you were an outsider and had no place in their family.

- Oh well, like that was going to stop you. This boy made your heart thump, and you weren't about to give up because he has some nasties in his family. Hell, your family wasn't the happiest about your choice in crush, but you were determined.

- His sister (aunt, cousin? you didn't really know what was up with his family) Henrietta was kinder, and agreed to be your little liaison, delivering flowers and letters to him on her behalf. And you didn't know about it, but she had been working Luda Mae to let you two out for a date.

- Charlie, oh boy, was he pissed when you showed up on the property to take Thomas out on a picnic date. No matter how much Luda Mae yelled at him to leave you the hell alone, he was still fixing on shooting you clean in the head. Cocky son of a bitch sure didn't expect you pick him up and set him down on the couch, before scooping up Thomas and walking out of the house with him.

- You weren't much to look at, so Charlie was thrown for a loop when you put him in his place, and was down right shocked like you picked Thomas up bridal style like it was nothing, and strolled out to your pick-up truck.

- Thomas is just as surprised, though goes willingly. You had seemed so sweet and kind and soft, he knew you wouldn't mesh well with the Hewitt lifestyle. But you made him so happy that he wanted to throw all caution to the wind. He's delighted to know that you could hold your own against his family.

- Everyone, even himself, expects him to be one big, mean, bastard, but after confirming with an arm wrestling match that you're much, much stronger than him, he lets his guard down. He can be scared, and confused, and not expect a backhand or called an animal or a retard. I mean, you call him a stud, but even he knows that's meant as a compliment.

- He gets so bubbly and happy when you pick him up and carry him around, especially when you do it without him asking. It makes him feel like a kid again. It also puts you two on even footing for once, so he can kiss you and bump his face (which you don't mind? it boggles his mind) against yours.

- And it's always a good day for everyone when you put Charlie in his place, and he shuts the hell up for once. Despite his intense dislike for you, everyone else in the family adores you and welcomes you with open arms. There's not many people that Thomas without exception or hesitation, and they're always welcome members of the Hewitt household.

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slashesotron · 5 years ago

Note

can we pls get more priest avery content, im so thirsty for him 😩😩😩

You can! Have a fic co-written with a friend!

WARNINGS: This is pretty mild as far as material here goes. Father Sebastian is a huge repressed dork. Reader is AFAB and a Satanist. Sexual content; fades to black. Self-harm in a ‘penance’ context. A couple [censored] S/ims screenshots as a treat. Enjoy!

———–

You were dragged to church by a concerned friend. They were just trying to help, really. You had told them you weren’t religious, but they insisted- the confession booth is good for you, they said! Just try it!

And they just looked so earnest you couldn’t say no.

You felt out of place in the church, as pretty as it was, filled with the faithful. You spent most of the sermon in the bathroom on your phone, trying to stay awake… but your friend came and found you, chiding you gently and dragging you back into the fray, into the line for confession.

You just wanted to go home, but….

Finally, it��s your turn, and stepping into the dimly lit, ornately carved little room and closing the door, something comes over you and you find yourself spilling your guts.

About how lonely you are, about how frustrating things have been- about being single, about having been celibate for far too long- it all just slips out like something else is controlling your tongue.

You pause.

“… Sorry. I’m sure this is all gross and weird to you.”

“……….. No, I know.” Comes the soft voice from the outside of the screen.

“… Wait, what? Do you mean you understand what I’m going through? Or…”

“I do, and…. Uh, well. It would be inappropriate from a member of the clergy.”

“… What? You can’t talk about sex stuff? I can never remember how, like, chaste you’re supposed to be…”

“…. I can listen, but revealing my own would be… a breach of protocol.”

“Oh. yeah… I guess it would be weird for you to confess to me. Sorry..”

“Ah, no reason to apologize, my child… go on.”

“I’ve never actually done this before. I haven’t been inside a church since I was little..”

“All are welcome. One needn’t be a member of the church to seek solace here…”

“I just… I don’t know why I was even brought here. They wanted to help, but…”

“Tell me what’s on your mind. Has anything been bothering you…?”

“I’m just lonely, I have been since I graduated… I’m not doing anything with my degree, and I hate my job too.. that stupid video store is gonna close any day now, and then what’ll I do? I dunno… Sometimes I just wish I could escape.”

“I see… I can understand how frustrating that would be… your future seems hopeless to you right now, and that’s a tough place to be in….” He pauses. “Tell me… what would your ideal future look like?”

“Um, I guess… A cozy house with nice windows to let all the sunlight in… A job I don’t hate where I can make enough money to live comfortably… Maybe someone I like to live with too..”

“…. What’s that person like…?”

“Like, hypothetically? Because I haven’t met them yet…”

“Yes, hypothetically.”

“Okay, well…. Cute, tall, I guess… Maybe glasses, but that’s just my type. Um… Besides the superficial stuff, just… Someone who’s sweet and kind and will be patient with. Also hopefully likes nerdy stuff but… I don’t know. Just someone who’s nice.”

There’s a long silence from the other side of the booth.

“Uh, sorry. I’ll just… I don’t know how long I’ve been in here, my coworker is probably waiting, I need to go–”

“W-wait. Please.” Another few beats of silence. “…… Could you go through the door at the back of the aisle? Just…. go quickly, no one should stop you.”

You stop, not quite believing what you’re hearing.

“Wh-… okay? I-I can do that, I guess. Do you want me to go right now, or…?”

“Please.” His voice is soft and nervous.

“Okay, um… I’ll be right there, then…”

You get up, hoping no one sees you, and step through the door without looking back.

A moment after, a tall man in black robes slips through the back door of the confessional, gently closing it behind him… and then he turns. Pale, freckled, a sweet, friendly face. Big round glasses, long, slightly messy strawberry blond (in a tiny ponytail as you saw with his back turned), and a softly anxious smile. “I’m sorry, this is…. very irregular, I just….” He stammers as he walks to you.

You blush, mouth slightly open as you stare at him. You back up against the door when he walks over, in shock. “Ah… Father, I– what’s going on?”

He crosses himself, stopping as you back away. “I swear I mean you no harm,” he says gently, “…. Heavens though are you beautiful…. Ah! My apologies. T-this is- I shouldn’t have-”

“No, I believe you! I just… nothing like this has ever happened to me before…” You offer him a small smile. “… You’re really cute.”

The flush is instant, deep, and he turns his head away. “I-I, ah” Hands wringing, searching for what to say. “This is… Deeply inappropriate…. But…” He looks at you again, a small, uncertain smile. “… I’m not sure what I’m doing, Lord forgive me, but I felt we had to meet.”

“You don’t have to feel bad, I just…” Now it’s your turn to look away, your eyes fixed on the floor. “This is just unexpected! it doesn’t mean it’s bad.” You’re quiet for a moment, and then- “… Do you want my number??”

“Ah, I…. I shouldn’t,” He answers quietly, looking down at himself. “I don’t have a cell phone, but… you can call the church office between services and I’ll usually answer, or…” He looks up, shy hope in his eyes. “… You could come back to confession any time.”

You laugh a bit, covering your mouth with your hand. “You’re actually going to make me want to come to church…. but that seems a bit excessive. Can’t we get coffee, or…?”

His face falls a little and he looks back down. “I… can’t be seen, um, fraternizing with the congregation… outside of my duties. There would be scandal…”

“Really…?” You frown too. “Well… I guess I’ll be back tomorrow. Can I at least have your name…?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry-” He extends a hand and smiles. “Father Sebastian Wynter.”

“Sebastian…” You roll it over in your mouth with a smile before shaking his hand and telling him your name.

He covers you hand in his with his own, holding it for a moment, his gentle grip nearly burning hot. “It’s good to meet you,” He smiles softly, a touch of pink on his cheeks. “…. Safe travels.”

Your face falls at his words. “Oh… yeah, I guess you have to get back to work… Will you be here tomorrow?”

“I’m always here, not to worry.” A sympathetic smile.

“Then I guess I’ll see you then!” You smile back at him and leave through the same door you came in.

The next day, back in church, you look and feel out of place; the nicest thing you had was something that makes you look like a member of the Addams family. Avoiding the looks you’re getting, you duck into the confession booth.

A soft voice from the other side. “God bless you, my child.” And silence.

“Um… Sebastian, is that you?”

A little gasp. “Oh! You came back…” A moment’s pause- “… Was there anyone else waiting?”

“Uh, i didn’t see anyone else out there. looks like everyone’s just chatting after the service.”

“Ah, then… The door, then.” There’s the rustling of fabric as he moves, and the quiet click of the exit on his side.

“The same one…? Okay…” You get up and head through the door at the back of the aisle, adjusting your clothes as you look up at him. “I thought we were just going to talk in there… it’s nice to be able to see you, though.”

He looks surprised. “Oh, ah- my apologies, I shouldn’t have assumed-” And then his eyes flick guiltily over you, and his eyes widen, and he blushes.

Your eyes go wide too, and you smile nervously. “…What is it? Is there something wrong?”

He jolts slightly with a barely audible gasp, looks away. Crosses himself. “N-no, I just… I’ll need to add to my nightly penance. A pause, and he looks back, his expression warm, almost glowing… with a hint of something off. ”…… You are so very beautiful….“

“Thank you, um…” Confused, and fidgeting with the hem of your sleeve- you do like him but this is pretty weird… “What do you mean by nightly penance?”

He glances back down, nervous again. “Part of my devotion to God is penance for my sins. I can’t do confession, after all,” A short, sheepish laugh. “I… shouldn’t be fraternizing like this, a-and…” He murmurs, mortified, under his breath. “……. Impure thoughts.”

“Is this really that bad? I mean, I don’t even go here regularly. I don’t believe in this stuff… I only came here to talk to you, and the day before someone else took me. Does that really count as fraternization…?” You take a step closer, looking up with a worried expression. “I… really don’t think it’s a bad thing if we go out and get coffee.”

His nervousness clearly increases as you come closer, and he wrings his hands as he speaks. “Y-you may not, my dear, but I’ve quite literally dedicated my life to it… Priests, you see-” He sighs, takes a deep breath, and starts again. “…. Priests take a vow of celibacy. We aren’t supposed to go to coffee with people for… r-romantic reasons.” A pause, and more quietly.“….. E-even if we want to.”

Your face falls, but you don’t move to leave. “…Oh… I see…”

A few moments of awkward silence. “….. We could talk here,” He suggests, quiet, hopeful.

“… In this weird little back room…? I guess we could, yeah…” You’re quiet for a bit longer, and then, “Do you want anything out of this? Or do you just want someone to talk to..? Either one is fine! I’m just… I like to know what I’m in for..”

His eyes flick away, his smile gone. “…. I….. I don’t know…. I….”

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to upset you.. This is just a pretty new experience for me, and I just wanted to clarify…”

“N-no! No, you- you didn’t, it’s alright! It’s…” He looks away again, this time blushing profusely. “… It’s also very new for me. Uh,” He gestures to a couple of old wooden chairs. “Shall we sit?”

You look around before nodding at him, sitting on one of them as you look at your feet. “Can I ask you a question..?”

“A-ah, yes, of course.”

“Why did you want to meet me so badly…? Do you usually talk to people in this back room?”

That blush gets worse. “….. No. I don’t. This is… Just a room for clergy…” “…. I wanted to meet you b-because….” He hesitates, looks away, voice barely audible. “…. Because the person you described as your ideal partner sounded very much like me.”

Your eyes go a bit wide, you actually weren’t expecting that… “O-oh. really?? I thought so too, when I first saw you, actually…” You mumble that last part, looking away when you say it.

A long, awkward silence drags on in the little space.

“….. S-so! What are your hobbies!”

“Oh! Uh, I like scary movies and comics! How about you…? Anything besides, uh… God stuff?”

“Ah! I, ah, enjoy the occasional horror movie as well… They’re… A guilty thing, hardly appropriate, but…. Well. Do you… Have a favourite type?”

Your eyes light up. “Oh, you do? Really? I love slasher films, Scream is my favourite, but I really like found footage too! What about you?”

“Oh, y-yes, those… all of those are good, heh,” He wrings his hands. “Some quieter Japanese horror is also… fascinating….”

“Oh! I just watched The Ring last week!”

“That’s wonderful… That sounds like such a… p-pleasant experience….” Wring, wring. “… It would be so lovely to watch them with you….” He murmurs, looking away.

“I’d love that!” Your face falls. ”… But you can’t, can you? Fraternization, and all that…“

"I’ll… I’ll see what I can do. All we have in the church is an old TV-VCR for the children… If we had a laptop….”

“I have a laptop! But it’s at home…” You pause. “… You know, I’m used to movie nights where we go to each other’s houses…”

He looks aghast for a moment but it melts into thought. “…. If it was after hours… it could…. greatly lessen the risk of being seen…..”

“Yeah, see! We could even go to a bar or something… When exactly is after hours?”

The look of horror is back. “A- a bar? Oh, heavens no-” He clears his throat and smooths his robes over his lap. “Ah… 9 or 10pm would be best.”

“It was just a suggestion! Sorry… I keep forgetting you’re an actual priest.” You laugh nervously. "Well, perfect! That’s when I’m usually off work, but… What time is it now?”

He looks over to an old clock- “Ah… about 1pm…. It would be a while from now…. regrettably.”

“Oh! you could just– No, no, don’t listen to me. Nevermind!” You laugh again. “Never mind. Do you wanna just meet tonight, then?”

“W-wait, what-” If this man wrings his hands any more, they’re going to be raw. “Forgive me… what were you going to say…?”

“Ah, uh…. There’s a joke about satanic temptation in here, but… I was just gonna say that, uh. You could skip out on your church bullshit?”

He puts a damn hand to his heart and looks prone to faint “My—! My church–!!”

“N- no, you’re right, that’s… that’s not a good idea….”

He looks away and murmurs. “M-maybe none of this is a… good idea…”

You touch his arm, concerned. “I’m sorry! I wasn’t actually suggesting that you–” He made a little sound when you touched him, and now he’s REALLY blushing. “Oh.”

“I-I guess not. I’m sorry. I can leave.”

“No! Please… N-no. To….tonight. I can… come by. Is…. is that alright?”

“If you want to. Only if you want to… Oh God, I’ve been pressuring you into all this, haven’t I…?“

"N-no! No, I-” He gently grabs your hand in both of his; they’re almost uncomfortably hot. “Please. I….. I’m not very… good. At this. But….” A small smile. “… I’d like to figure it out.”

You take a deep breath, and then another, trying to calm down. “Okay. I’m sorry. Where did you want to meet…? Just my apartment, or?”

“I suppose that would be best… If- If you’d be comfortable….?”

“Yeah, that’s fine..! I hope you don’t mind it being a bit messy… but i can clean before you get there! Here–” Digging in your pocket, you pull out a pen and paper and scribble your address onto it. “Will you be able to find it okay..?”

“Ah- yes. I’m sure I’ll be alright…. um… 9pm?”

“Sure!” Your smile is back for a moment, but it fades again. "Ah.. I’m sure you have to get back to your, uh, church bullshit.“

He laughs awkwardly this time. "Ah! Y-yes… church, uh, things, heh…” He gets up. “I, uh… It’s been very lovely seeing you again, dear- I mean, ah. I… very much look forward to tonight….”

“Yeah, I’m excited!” You get up too. “I’m… still really sorry if I upset you at all.”

“Oh, no! Please don’t worry… You’re very sweet and kind, I’m simply… not used to this,” He smiles. Awkward silence… then he kinda does a half-bow. “I’ll… I’ll see you later.”

You’re about to leave, but… “Oh… one more thing! What should I call you?”

“Oh! Um… Just… Sebastian, I suppose, as long as we’re out of earshot of everyone here…”

“Okay! Well…” You smile, “I’ll see you tonight.. Sebastian.“

A shaky smile. "Until then.”

He waits for you to leave before following. Spends the whole day beside himself with nerves; several people ask him if he’s sick and insist he rest, but he insists in turn that he’s fine. He’s so relieved when he’s finally home… But then he remembers why he’s home, and the nerves return tenfold. He takes a shower, makes himself presentable… All the while wondering what the fuck he’s doing. When he rings the doorbell, his heart feels fit to burst out of his chest.

There’s a thump, a muffled ‘shit!’ from behind the door, the sound of the lock clicking, and then there you are, holding the door open. You’d swapped out your attempt at a church outfit for simple black jeans and a t-shirt.

“Hi..! I’m glad you found the place okay, come on in!” It’s a small apartment, opening up into the living room, a decently sized tv, surrounded by shelves and shelves of horror films both on DVD and VHS. To top everything off, there’s a large tapestry covering the window emblazoned with a pentagram.

He’s smiling, but he looks distinctly on edge; even despite the immaculate white button down under a beige sweater vest and slightly darker slacks, the creases down the fronts perfectly pressed right down to gleaming dress shoes. “H-hello!” He answers, stepping inside and nearly falling over at the sight of the flag. He crosses himself, murmuring a prayer under his breath automatically.

“Oh…! You look so nice, I wasn’t expecting– Woah!” You put your hands out to steady him. “Are you okay? Do you need water?? Here, come sit…” You rest a hand on his back, guiding him to the couch.

He doesn’t budge. Like he’s frozen. He’s staring at that flag… won’t go any closer to it, still murmuring prayers.

“Sebastian…? H-hey.. what’s wrong?“

His eyes snap to you almost like he was in a trance. "I–” He takes a breath. “…I wasn’t expecting, ah- s-satanic m…materials. Blasphemy is, v-very uncomfortable….”

“Oh! Oh god, I’m so sorry, I thought I told you I was a satanist!! Uh… here, I can take it down, okay?” You offer an attempt at a reassuring smile. “And we can just… not go into my room!”

He’s still gazing at the tapestry, now as if lost in thought, not looking at you. “… My dear…. w-why would you want to spend time with someone like me?”

Your face falls for what feels like the millionth time today, and you start fidgeting with the hem of your shirt again. “I could ask you the same thing…“

"D-do…. Do you want me to be here? I…. I just don’t understand…. Are you seeking… salvation? Penance? C-…. companionship? I-I’m not sure if I should be concerned this is a cry for assistance or-”

“I… I thought… Earlier, you said that my ideal partner sounded a lot like yourself, and I…. I don’t know, it’s dumb for me to get my hopes up about things like that, but…..”

You look down at your feet. “It’s not a cry for help, I don’t want to atone for anything… I just like you.”

His voice is very very soft and gentle. “I…. I admit to having allowed myself the unwise reverie of.. something… with you, but…. my dear, am I not….” He sighs. “I do try not to judge. These are modern times, a-and things are changing, but… Would I not be…. an ill fit for you because of, well….?” He pulls a long silver chain out from under his shirt, a large, fine-looking silver cross dangling from it.

“I… I didn’t think it would be that big of a deal, I…” You sigh. “You… you don’t have to stay if you don’t want to. I can tell you’re uncomfortable. I’m sorry, Sebastian…”

He smiles, shakily. “I… I am. But I’m… always uncomfortable. Especially, ah…” He nervously runs a hand through his hair to get it out of his face. “E-especially… out of my element. Please understand… I’ve, ah, not been on…. a date, um… well. Ever….”

“Wait, ever? Not at all? Not even in high school?”

He’s blushing terribly. “Er, y-yes. I… I went to an all boy’s Catholic school, and the same for college and seminary school…. And since then, the, heh, the vows and all, so….” There he goes wringing his hands again…

“Oh… Oh, wow.” You blink at him, eyes wide. “You’re dedicated, aren’t you..? Wow…. Well, first, why don’t you sit down…? I can get you a glass of water or something, if you want.”

“Y-yes, it’s… been my life’s passion- oh,” He goes, somewhat hesitantly, over to the couch, and sits primly, clearly feeling very awkward. “That would be lovely, th-thank you very much.”

“… Sure.” You smile a bit, going over to the kitchen and returning soon after with some water, setting the glass on the coffee table in front of him before sitting down next to him. “So! Movie? Video game? … Board game?”

He tenses right up as you sit down, eyes darting to look at you even though he’s still facing perfectly forward, hands folded in his lap like he’s been posed for a family photo. You’re close enough that the scent of you wafts over to him, and suddenly he’s very very glad his hands are hiding his lap. “… The plan was, ah, a movie, yes? Some horror, I believe…”

“Oh, sure! Have you seen Scream? It’s my favorite!“

"I’ve been, ah, meaning to watch those…”

Your face lights up. “So you haven’t seen it yet? Perfect!” You jump up and head over to the shelf, bending down to grab the dvd before popping it in the player and getting everything set up.

His eyes are on your rear before he can stop them, and he’s immediately looking away and berating himself, murmuring yet another prayer to keep himself from temptation. His pants are…. Uncomfortable.

You turn around, smiling and blissfully unaware, before sitting back down next to him. You’re a bit closer to him than you were before, though not on purpose. “Do you need anything else before I start the movie?” You ask, remote in hand.

“Ah, no, thank you! You’re a wonderful host,” He smiles. “Sh-shall we?”

“Aw, thank you!” You smile at him before nodding and pressing play, setting the remote down and getting comfortable.

He does not move, sitting stiffly like he’s made of wood. He anxiously tries to ignore your proximity and focus on the movie… But his breath catches ever so softly at the first onscreen shriek and spray of blood.

You look over at him, tilting your head. “… Are you okay? You said you liked horror, but… is this too bloody?” Scooting closer to him, you hover a hand over his arm, worried

The slightest jolt. He looks over and smiles. “Oh, no, I’m fine. Please don’t worry!” His pants are growing painful.

“Well… just let me know, okay?” Smiling at him, you settle back onto the couch without moving back over.

Someone else on screen dies a gory, noisy death. His heart is pounding out of his chest as he desperately prays for strength to control himself. But the next death is too full of deliciously real screams of pain and fear, clothing torn, skin showing, blood pouring over it so tantalizingly that he breaks. “E-excuse me,” he breathes, and nearly trips over himself hurrying to the washroom, practically bodyslamming the door closed. He can’t get his pants open fast enough, already a slick mess of pre anyway, and he half-sobs silently into his free hand while the other strokes a desperately quick pace.

“W-wait, Sebastian, are you–?” But he’s already slammed the door before you can catch him. Getting up and pausing the movie, you head over to the bathroom door, knocking softly. “Sebastian…? Are you okay? Please tell me you’re not getting sick…”

He turns on the water. “I’m fine!!” He calls, almost even-voiced. “Just, nature calls! Heh,” Can a meteor strike him right now please? You being at the door amplifies his shame to a fever pitch, which, for some reason, his dick doesn’t seem to object to. An image of you bending over in front of the TV flits, unbidden, over his memory…. It’s immediately changed to less clothes… bare skin… blood over that beautiful smoothness, and- His whole body jolts as he curls in on himself, biting his fist to stay silent- successfully, thank God- and he catches his breath for a moment before running his messy palm under the water.

“O-oh, sorry!” You call, a bit embarrassed now. “You got up so quickly, I thought you had to throw up or something…” Muttering another apology under your breath, you get up and head back to your spot.

It’s a few more minutes before he comes out; having washed his hands and fixed himself all up. “Sorry about that,” He smiles, “I, ah, suppose I’m a little nervous. Shall we continue?”

“That’s okay!” You reply quickly, unsuspicious. “I didn’t mean to, like… pretty much follow you into the bathroom, haha. I was just worried this movie was too much! Are you sure you want to keep watching? It gets bloodier.”

“Ah, I assure you, it’s fine. I’ve seen many movies of this sort…” He sits back down, folding his hands primly in his lap again… With the left one covered.

“Alright then!” You press play, glancing over at him. “…You’ll tell me if you’re uncomfortable though, right? I worry…”

“Oh of course! You’re very kind….” But nothing untoward happens for the rest of the film.

As the credits roll, you get up, bending over again to pop the DVD out of the player and put it back on the shelf. “Wanna do something else?” You ask, without turning around.

He tries to look away, but ends up looking right at the flag again… So he stares at the floor instead. “Ah… It’s getting late, I should… I should probably be getting back….”

“Oh…” Your shoulders slump as you get back to your feet, turning around to face him. “Is it that late already…? I was having so much fun with you, I didn’t even notice…. It’s been a while since I’ve had any guests, haha.. Here, um… I can walk you to your car…?”

“Ah… I’m very sorry, my dear,” He smiles apologetically. “It’s just that I need to be up at 5 to be ready for service… D-don’t worry, though! We could do this again!”

Your eyes widen a bit. “Holy shit, 5 am?! Gross…” But suddenly you have an idea, and you make a mental note to check your work schedule to see whether or not you open tomorrow. “I’d really like to do this again..! I can put the tapestry away next time!”

“Ah! A-as long as there’s something else covering the window, I suppose….”

He stands there awkwardly, not sure what to say next. "Er…. See you at church….?“

"I was going to walk you to your car, if that’s okay?” You move over to the door, opening it for him. “The least I can do…”

“C-certainly, heh…. Such a fine host…..” He follows, his nerves amping back up fast, and he shoves his hands in his pockets.

You laugh a little, shutting and locking the door behind you as you lead him down to the parking lot. “Which car is yours…?”

“Th-this one, here we are…” It has standard keys… No autolock… It’s also beige. He turns to face you, smiling. “Thank you, you. It’s been a lovely evening….”

“Yeah! I had fun! I really hope you did too. I’ll see you again soon, and maybe next time I can make us dinner or something..!”

“Oh! Th-that would be, ah, very nice…. How kind of you to offer.” The sweet, excited, earnest look on your face melts his heart, and something twists deep inside…. I don’t want you to look at anyone else like that, ever!

He inhales a little sharply, then smiles. “I suppose this is goodnight…”

“Yeah…” You nod, but don’t move to leave, looking very hesitant. He pauses too, but finally he smiles and turns to get into his car.

“Good night, Sebastian…”

You watch him drive away with a dull pain in your chest, but your heart’s still pounding hard when you think about surprising him at the morning service tomorrow .

And he gets home a wreck. His trip to the bathroom at your house is only the first that night, and by the third he’s in tears… He pays his penance viciously afterwards, so much so he isn’t able to sleep for hours from the pain. But he’s there in church in the morning before anyone else, a beacon of light as always.

You didn’t manage to sleep at all, too nervous that you’d sleep in and miss the morning service, but there you are, all dressed up in your best attempt to look nice for him. Too afraid to sit near the front and risk getting caught up in conversation with someone, you find a seat in the back and wait for the service to start.

The congregation hushes as Sebastian steps to the podium; he smiles and nods in greeting to everyone, about to begin his sermon- when he spots you, who blends into the crowd here like a peacock in a bookstore. His jaw half-drops, moves like he’s trying to find words, but they’ve all left him; last night all comes back and smacks him over the head with the force of a flying brick, and in a second he’s blushing and acutely aware that he now needs to stay behind the podium…. he reaches forward to rest his hands on it, to steady himself, gain some composure- but all it does is remind him of how incredibly sore his back is. People are starting to murmur, confused. Finally, he smiles again, and apologizes, charming and collected- nothing like the stuttering mess you’re used to.

His sermon is remarkably captivating, the audience not making a peep throughout… and once he’s finished, he leads them through prayers, then blessing newcomers to the church and taking communion. Finally, he heads to the confession booth, getting entangled in conversation many times along the way… until he slips inside and the door closes behind him.

You wait a while, this time…. It seems like half the congregation has something to get off their chests. People scurry in and out, heads down, one after the other… but finally, people are starting to disperse and you have your chance.

“Hi, Sebastian… I’m sorry if I shouldn’t have come here, I just wanted to surprise you!”

There’s a soft gasp at the sound of your voice, interrupting his quiet standard greeting. “O-oh! H-hello, dear…. Er, d-did you enjoy the service….?” He asks, sounding heartrendingly hopeful.

You hesitate. “Um, I felt really out of place, and I wasn’t sure what was going on… I didn’t know any of the prayers, but…. You were so passionate about what you were doing! I really enjoyed that….”

He looks a little concerned at you words until you praise his sermon, and then he lights up a little, colour dusting his cheeks. “Ah… Y-you’re so very kind, thank you.” He hesitates. “….. I could teach you the prayers… We could do your blessing and communion right now, even…”

“You could…? Would you really teach me? ….. Um, what’s the blessing? And ‘communion’?”

He lights right up at the first half of you words- I could save you after all!! - but he stops dead “Ah… I’d anoint you with holy water, and then you take the bread and wine that is the body and blood of Christ, if you choose to let him into your heart to save your soul…”

There’s another pause, this time much longer and much more uncomfortable. “Uh… the holy water thing is fine, I guess, but… Does my soul really need to be saved?”

“W-well…..” He stares at his feet, wringing his hands again, voice quiet. “An unsaved soul goes to the fires…. The idea of you suffering like that for eternity is….” His breath hitches, and he looks away.

“Well, I mean…. I don’t really think that’s going to happen to me? I don’t even really think there is much of an afterlife, and if there is, I’ll probably party it up in hell anyway. Because, well, you know. Satanist.” .

The look he fixes you with is pure, unfiltered worry and heartbreak, genuine concern, big blue eyes glassy in the low light. All he can do is blink a few times, opening his mouth like he wants to say something, closing it again… And finally he sighs and looks back down. His voice cracks slightly. “I…. I see.”

Your eyes are wide and apologetic, asking for forgiveness. “Wait! All I was trying to say was that I won’t suffer, so please don’t worry! I’ll be okay…”

“I’m….. I’m afraid that’s not how it works in the eyes of the Lord, m-my dear, but….. I cannot- will not- force you. I, ah-” He heaves a sigh, bringing a shaky smile back to his face as he runs a hand through his hair. “D-did you… did you still want to learn the prayers…?”

“I… yeah! If it would make you happy…!“

And his face falls again. ”…. Ah. If it’s only for me, then… that’s alright. I, ah, appreciate your… consideration… you’re very kind.“ You frown too, hearing the dismay in his voice. You don’t want to be involved in this stuff at all, but maybe it was a mistake to tell him that… you just want to make him happy.

He tries to stretch a little and flinches… then flusters. Right. Last night…

"Er-” He starts again, awkwardly, “-I must attend to the flock for several more hours, but, ah…. If you wanted to…. watch another film tonight…..?”

You perk right up at his offer. “Really? Yeah!! I can make dinner for you and everything!”

He smiles, a little tightly, but he eases after a moment. “That’s, ah, very generous of you, my dear… What time would be appropriate…?”

You sigh, releasing a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding. “It just depends on when you’re free tonight!”

“I believe… I should be free at eight o'clock, provided all goes well… would… would that be alright?”

“Yes!! I’ll be ready then! Do you remember my address? ’ll cook something I think you’ll like, I’ll take down my tapestry, I’ll pick a good movie…! I’ll make sure you have fun!”

“Ah, y- yes. I do. You’re very kind, you…. I’m… Very grateful.” A pause. “…. I should return to my duties… Until tonight, then?”

“Okay! I’ll see you later!” And with that, you duck out of the confession booth.

That night, you’re setting two plates of spaghetti and meatballs onto the coffee table, along with a basket of garlic bread and two glasses of water. You aren’t sure if he likes soda, and alcohol was definitely a no-go, so… Water was the safest option there. With the DVD menu for a movie playing at a nice low volume, that tapestry safely tucked away, and a few candles lit, you do one last check to make sure everything is in order.

At eight o'clock exactly there’s a crisp knock on the door, and there he is again- a nice sweater with a collared shirt under it, pleated slacks, shining dress shoes, his red-golden hair tied up neatly at his nape, his bangs partly tucked behind his ears. He’s smiling, looking as nervous as ever, and he’s holding…. A fruit basket.

You jump a bit before going over to open the door, resisting the urge to hug him and just giving him a bright smile instead. “Hi, Sebastian…! Come in!!” You step aside to let him in before going to sit on the couch, patting the spot beside you. “I technically have a kitchen table, but I thought it would be more fun to eat while we watched movies!”

“Oh! How… novel!” He smiles, clearly having never done such a thing before. He hands over the gift a little awkwardly, not sure what to do with his hands a moment later. He sits where you indicate, folding his hands in his lap just like the first time. “It smells wonderful, you…! Ah, what are we watching…?”

“Thank you! This is pretty…. Oh, It’s another horror, a bit lower key this time. It’s about ghosts! I really like it, hopefully you will too.”

“My pleasure, not at all, not at all… I hope you, heh, enjoy it…” Another awkward pause. He obviously had no idea what to get you. “Ah, ghosts? That sounds…. Interesting…. Not about the Holy Ghost, I take it? Heh….”

You laugh a bit, still holding the fruit basket on your lap. “No, it’s… kind of hard to describe. You’ll see, and it’s not bloody or anything.” Pressing play and carefully putting the fruit basket aside, you pull your plate of spaghetti over to you and take a bite as the opening credits start.

He just laughs a little and takes his plate, but then pauses- “Ah, might there be a napkin I could use, dear?”

“Oh!” You set your plate down immediately. “Of course! Let me go grab some!” You hop up and rush into the kitchen, returning shortly after with a small stack. “Here you go!”

He stares at them, confused, for a good second, then hesitantly reaches out and takes one.

“Ah! T-thank you….” He unfolds it, all the way. Looks at it despairingly. Drapes it over his lap anyway.

You tilt your head, confused. “Is something wrong? Sorry if they’re shitty– uh, bad, I mean.”

“Oh, ah, it’s alright! Please don’t worry, dear. Thank you! Let’s say grace-” He takes one of your hands gently as he bows his head. They’re soft. Surprisingly so, for how big they are, and so warm it almost feels like he might have a fever. “Bless us, oh Lord, and these gifts-” He stops suddenly. “…. Ah, I- I shouldn’t- I don’t want to offend-”

The moment he grabs your hand, you drop the fork that you had just grabbed, and cringe as it clatters loudly onto the plate. For some reason, you didn’t even think about the fact that he’d want to say grace… More importantly, Sebastian is holding your hand. It takes a significant amount of willpower for you to not do anything weird, but you allow yourself this blissful moment- before coming back to reality. “No, it’s okay! If you want to, please go ahead.. it doesn’t offend me at all,” You offer gently.

He’s just staring at you, expression nervous but unreadable, the pulse felt through his palm strong and fast. He looks at you, then at your as if willing himself to let go, but he doesn’t, and the seconds tick by, and that beat only speeds up. He drops you hand and stands suddenly. "E- excuse me,” He stutters, and the bathroom door slams a second later.

“Ah… Sebastian, are you–?” This time you don’t make any move to catch him or follow him, in the hopes that he’ll feel less uncomfortable. A heavy sigh, and you lean back on the couch, staring at the spaghetti on the table in front of you. And then hear something- it’s quick, and it’s quiet, but it almost sounded like a moan. More specifically, someone trying to muffle a moan.

You freeze. Oh my god, no. That couldn’t have been.. he’s not…. he can’t be! …but what if he is?

Despite your mind screaming at you not to, to sit back down and just wait for him like a normal person, you slowly stand, making your way over to the bathroom door- and this time unmistakable now that you’re closer, definitely Sebastian, definitely stifled. You knock softly.

The bathroom goes utterly silent, and there’s a few pregnant seconds before anything else. “I- I’ll just be a moment!” He calls, clearly trying to sound normal, but his voice is strained and from here you can hear that he’s breathless…

You stand there trying to figure out what the fuck you’re supposed to say. What are you supposed to say when your date ends up doing that in your bathroom?

It’s now or never. "…Sebastian, I… I would. Um. I’d like you to come out here, please.“

Clearly trying to convince you that he’s only in your bathroom to relieve himself in the regular way, he makes an attempt at a joke in reply- "Haha! I’m, er, I prefer privacy when nature calls, j-just a moment-”

“… I heard you. Please come out here.“

Dead fucking silence.

For a while, it seems like he’s just going to pretend he doesn’t exist. Then finally, finally, there’s the sound of the tap running, then the soft click of the doorknob, and he comes out looking like he desperately wants to be struck down by holy retribution. Whole body stiff. Arms at his sides. His hair is in his face, but his head is partly turned away anyway, and what skin is visible is so incredibly red it looks like he somehow got a third-degree sunburn while he was in there. He says nothing.

You aren’t looking at him, either. There’s an uncomfortable silence before you take a breath, measuring what you’re about to say.

"I… suppose I just– I don’t quite understand why you need to hide in the bathroom and take care of yourself like that when you’re on a date with me.” Flushed, the back of your mind still screaming at you, you step forward, close enough to kiss him if you leaned up.

“I mean… I’m right here.”

His breath catches, barely audible, as he states down at you with wide, almost wild eyes, but he’s looked away again a second later. “I–!” He already sounds choked up. “I’m not supposed to do anything like this! To be here! And yet here I am, letting my sinful desires get the better of me, I– I can’t even show my gratitude for your hospitality! I should- I should go-” And he moves to extract himself from between you and the bathroom door.

“What?! No, please–” In a moment of panic and tearing up, you grab him, both hands holding tightly onto his upper arms. “I want you to stay! You said you aren’t even supposed to be here, but you drove here, twice! You listened to me that first day in confession, and you wanted to meet me in the back room! So you must want this as much as I do…!”

The second you touch him, he freezes; and he stays like that, still as death, until you’re silent again. Moments pass, his eyes never wavering from you.

Your voice softens, gaze sliding down to the floor along with your grip on his arms. “….Don’t go. I really want you to stay, and um…”

“….. I could help you take care of that.”

….. Slowly, hesitantly, he raises a hand to your face, fingertips ghosting down your jaw with agonizing slowness… His wide eyes flick down and fixate on your lips, and his thumb follows, brushing over the soft skin with reverence and disbelief. you can feel his hand shaking.

In complete awe, your eyes lidded and lips parted slightly, you melt into his touch.

“Sebastian…” Your voice is soft. “Come closer…”

His breathing has already picked back up, the tremble in it audible, but he does as you ask… Shuffling awkwardly forward and curling an arm around your waist, but there’s still space between your bodies. He starts to lean down, painfully slow like before, but soon enough his face is only an inch away from you, flushed deeply, sweat beading on his temples, breath heavy as if he’d already been making out for a while…. though his eyes are still as big as ever.

Unable to wait any longer, you grab the front of his shirt and yank him down, standing on your tiptoes as you press your lips to his. Everything you’ve been too afraid to tell him pours into the kiss. Your arms wrap softly around his neck and you pull him closer, one of your hands moving to run through his hair.

Barely a second after your lips touch, he convulses with a strangled groan, fingers digging into you back as he nearly doubles over- not breaking the kiss, but effectively dipping you by accident. He pulls off a moment later only to gasp into your shoulder, the shaking even worse now.

You decide not to ask about it, not wanting to make him feel worse than he probably already does. Moving your hand down to rub his back, all you want to do is comfort him. You’re tempted to ask him if this is better than hiding in the bathroom, but you keep your mouth shut, opting for a sweet forehead kiss instead.

He just clings to you for a few long moments, his trembling never fading, his hair slightly damp, skin misted, head down…. until suddenly he’s kissing you again, aggressively, but with a side of near-adolescent uncoordination, his hands running up you sides as he groans, furtively groping at your chest, pulling at your clothes.

You let out a tiny sound of surprise, melting into his touch. Your hands find his shoulders before stroking slowly down his chest, then you pull away for just a moment. "Sebastian.. let’s go to my room–“

He almost doesn’t seem to hear you for a few seconds, too distracted with getting his hands anywhere he can reach- but he relents, pulling back just enough to give you a little nod, all burning eyes and red ears. The intensity falters slightly, his characteristic nerves showing through, but he follows where you lead.

Pulling urgently on his wrist, you lead him into your bedroom, hoping the altar in the corner is inconspicuous enough. You throw yourself onto your unmade bed, and with another excited tug, you’re pulling him on top of you. Eyes glazed, unfocused, lips parted in a pant as he finds himself barely balanced over you; he’d be mortified by how obvious his hardon is like this (never mind the mess) if he wasn’t miles away right now. He’s back to it in a blink, your shirt pulled up and his hands on your chest, then his mouth…. He’s clearly never done this before, and it’s like he wants to do everything first, hands wandering with fervour and impatience. The only hesitation is when his fingertips graze the top hem of your underwear- he pulls his hand away, pauses for an uncertain second, and goes back to kissing you instead.

"Sebastian…” You breathe, your voice soft, giggling at the sudden touch, but your laughter quickly dissolves into happy moans. Despite his inexperience, you’re very much enjoying yourself. Reaching a hand out, you stroke through his hair, gently encouraging him to keep going. Your breath hitches in anticipation upon feeling his hand move down for just a moment– before he pulls away. You open your mouth to protest, but you’re cut off by another kiss before you can say anything. Grinning against his lips, you push him away just enough for you to speak. “Why’d you move your hand? I want you…”

That purr from you, that tone, drags a moan out of him as you fingers catch on his hair tie, spilling loose red-gold locks against his burning face. “A Thiarna, déan trócaire orm,” He hisses desperately against your neck, gone to hide and lay sloppy kisses against your skin as his hand snakes down between you- and right down the offending garment. The sound out of him at what he finds is accompanied by another shudder, different this time, palm slipping up slowly, then down- and then he yanks your underwear off and himself down, devouring you before you can blink.

---

#lord have mercy on me #sebastian avery wynter #priest!avery #father sebastian #male yandere #yandere #my fic #Anonymous

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almost-jack · 4 years ago

Text

It’s official. I’m a filthy, Jack-simping fuck monster. Chapter 15 is out and it is a smut bucket.

I just posted the smuttiest chapter that I’ve ever written for public consumption. It doesn’t even really require context (other than basic Borderlands 2 knowledge) to read because it is pure FILTH. I’m pretty proud.

Please enjoy and either leave me a comment here or on AO3 (guest comments and kudos welcome) or wash your eyeballs, depending on how you feel about it.

This chapter on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27921886/chapters/69799560

Or read below:

Chapter 15 : More Than He Bargained For

Summary: Axton willingly puts himself in Jack’s way and gets fucked. Hard. Oof.

Notes:

Forgive me lord, for I have sinned, but so help me god, I'll fucking do it again. And again. And again...

Thinkin' about changing the fic's title to "The Lion's Den". What do you guys think?

*Warning: Uhhhh....Axton might take a bit of a beating with some mild non-con mixed in there. He likes some it, though. *shrug*

The tower was just a short walk from the bar and the pair was entering the massive living room of the VIP suite within minutes. Rei retrieved a bottle of Jack’s fancy champagne and poured three glasses, setting one down on an end table to wait for Jack, then she sat down on an ornate couch with gold upholstery and patted the seat next to her. Axton joined her, staring around at the lavish, ostentatious suite.

“Wow, this place is uh…”

“Excessive? Yeah, I know. Jack’s aesthetic is something along the lines of, “You can’t afford this,” and, “Is there enough black leather in here?”” she said, laughing.

“Well, you can never have enough black leather, darlin’,” said Axton, reaching out and stroking her cheek.

He leaned in and caught her lips with his own, kissing her firmly, yet gently. Without breaking the kiss, he threw a knee up onto the couch and began crawling forward, crowding her back against the armrest until he was straddling her. Rei ran her hands up his chest, feeling something cold and metallic hanging from his neck. She pulled away to look at the rectangular tags in her hand. Dog tags, and for some reason, a wedding ring. Rei knew better than to ask why.

“A soldier, eh? Your battalion isn’t going to be happy about you fraternizing with Handsome Jack and friends, you know.”

“Don’t have a battalion anymore, I was discharged a while back. I’m a mercenary now, honey. A vault hunter, in fact.”

“You’re a…what?” she said, taken aback.

“He’s a vault hunter. Well, he was a vault hunter. For me,” growled a voice from across the room.

Jack was leaning in the doorway of the suite, arms crossed, brows furrowed in a thunderous scowl. He strode over behind the couch, gripping the edge of the headrest with white knuckles, looming over the pair. Then he sighed, screwing his eyes shut and rubbing his temple.

“Kitten…why? Why do you do this shit to me? It’s like you’re trying to get us both killed.”

“Jack…I don’t understand…”

“I hired this joker as a vault hunter and then tried to kill him. Did you forget that part, Axie? The part where I wanted you dead?”

“Nope, I remember. Crazy bus explosion. Lotta fun,” said Axton, sitting up. Rei slid out from under him and began backing away from the couch, feeling the weight of the grave error she had made.

“So why the hell are you here? Do you need to get fucked by Handsome Jack so badly that you’re willing to risk your life for it? I can’t blame you, but…pretty stupid move, kiddo,” snarled Jack.

“What if that’s exactly why I’m here? Is that so hard to believe?” asked Axton, pouting up at him playfully.

Jack grabbed the burly man by the hair and bent his head back at a painful angle. Axton grimaced but remained still. Jack leaned down so his face was mere inches away, staring at the man in his grasp with fire in his eyes. Rei had seen that expression before, and, although she knew this was about to take an unfortunate turn for Axton, she couldn’t help but feel excited for what was to come. When Jack was at his worst, he always fucked her the best.

Rei sauntered over to the armrest next to Jack and sat, looking quizzically down at Axton.

“I don’t think we believe him, do we, J?” she drawled lazily.

“No, I don’t believe we do. So why don’t you tell us why you’re really here, cupcake?” hissed Jack through clenched teeth.

“Fine, fine, I might have been paid to keep an eye on you two. Uh, do you mind?” he grunted, trying to jerk his head out of Jack’s grip. Jack released him, drawing his pistol and pointing it at Axton’s head instead.

“Well that’s not much better…” mumbled the soldier.

“Who are you working for? I want answers, now,” snarled Jack.

“No can do, big guy. I gave you as much of an answer as you’re gonna get. The rest is classified.”

“Maybe you should fuck it out of him, J.” said Rei, examining her shimmery, black nails disinterestedly.

“Kitten, you always have the best ideas!” crowed Jack, his scowl morphing into a wolfish grin. He tossed her his gun. “Watch him for a minute.” He turned and left the room.

“That was pretty dirty trick, soldier boy,” she said in a low, ominous voice, cocking the gun and aiming between Axton’s eyes.

“I wasn’t trying to trick anyone, just saw an opportunity for some fun on the job and I took it,” he said, shrugging out of his jacket and throwing it over the back of the couch.

“Jack is almost certainly going to kill you once he’s done. Why would you risk that?”

“Ah, darlin’, you underestimate me. I wasn’t a commando for all those years because I’m bad surviving dangerous situations. Jack doesn’t scare me. Also… I wanted to spend a little time with Jack’s girl. See what makes you tick. See if you’re a threat. See…what you have on under that dress,” he said with an impish grin, eyes twinkling up at her.

“Well, you might just get some of what you wanted…and a whole lot you didn’t,” she said, smiling sweetly back.

“Ok kiddos, time for some fun!” announced Jack gleefully, returning to the couch and slipping his gun back into its holster. He held a jumble of straps and chains. Jack separated the tangled items in his hands and flipped a black leather gag over to Rei. “You get his mouth, I’ll get his wrists,” he said, giving Axton a hard shove to the back, forcing him face down on the couch.

Jack yanked Axton’s arms behind him, clinking a pair of thick metal handcuffs around his wrists so quickly that the soldier barely had time to react. Rei snickered at them as she undid the buckle on the gag.

“Yeah, I don’t know about the gag, darli-nghhh!” protested Axton as she stuffed the leather strap in his mouth and fastened it around his head.

“You wanted to see what I have on under my dress, right? Be a good boy and I’ll show you.”

“Oh he said that, did he? Cheeky little bastard,” chuckled Jack, unbuckling his belt. “Kitten, why don’t you come over here and get this party started, hmm? You’re in for a real treat, Axie. Getting to watch my kitten blow me is a real privilege.”

Jack pulled Axton upright by the back of his shirt and plopped down next to him, throwing an arm over his shoulders. He hooked a finger under the chain of the soldier’s dog tags and toyed with it gently, giving him a devilish grin. Rei knelt between Jack’s legs a shoved his pants down, mouthing at the exposed skin of his upper thighs.

“Hmm, I think I have another good idea,” she said softly, pulling a small baggie of purple powder out of her bra.

“Oh you just keep that Eridium concentrate stashed on you at all times, eh, kitten?”

“This stuff is close to my heart. Literally,” she giggled.

She poured a trail of powder down Jack’s thigh and snorted it in one fluid motion. She then tapped a line onto the back of her hand, holding it out to Jack, who sniffed it up appreciatively. He threw back his head and sighed happily, then turned to Axton, positively beaming, and clapped him on the back.

“Holy hell, kiddo. Looks like I’m gonna be fucking you all night long,” he purred in Axton’s ear, pulling himself out of his pants and giving his near instant erection a few assisting strokes.

Rei licked the tip of his cock and Jack’s hand dropped to his side, letting her take over. She sank down on his member, almost to the hilt, making him groan loudly at the hot silkiness of her mouth and her tongue ring gliding over his shaft. She lazily dragged her tongue back up to his cockhead and sucked gently, stroking his slit with the tip of her tongue. Then she picked up her pace and began bobbing her head while pumping his length with a firm grip, getting faster and sloppier with every passing minute. Jack let out another low moan and dug his fingers into Axton’s shoulder with the hand that was still dangling carelessly over it.

“Oh, fuck, kitten. Take it easy, our friend is still waiting for a turn on my dick.”

“I think it’s only fair that I get first dibs, I found him after all. And since I won, shouldn’t I be calling the shots?” she said, sitting back on her heels and wiping her mouth.

Jack raised his eyebrows at her. “Oh yeah, doll? Hey, if that’s what you want…” He shrugged. “That ok with you, buddy?” he said, hooking his arm around Axton’s neck and pulling his head into his chest.

“Mmmph,” came his unintelligible reply. The look on his face was something akin to curiosity with a hint of apprehension, probably at the prospect of being subjected to whatever insane things these two cartoonish villains could think up.

Jack laughed derisively. “Like it even matters what you want at this point, kiddo.”

“Bedroom. Let’s go,” said Rei, snapping her fingers at the two of them.

“You heard that hot little piece of ass, up you get,” said Jack, dragging Axton to his feet and pushing him down the hall.

They followed Rei into the bedroom, Jack hauling Axton onto the bed with him while she waited at the foot, arms crossed. Jack threw an arm over Axton’s shoulders once again, watching her intently. Once she had their full attention, Rei slowly, almost teasingly, unzipped her dress. She let it slide off her body and pool at her feet, revealing black, lacey lingerie with yellow stitching. She bent to remove her silver pumps, but Jack cleared his throat insistently. She stopped and put her hands on her hips, cocking them to one side.

“What?” she said sharply.

“Do me a favor kitten…uhh, boss-kitten…. Leave ‘em on? Please? For daddy?” he pleaded, sticking out his lower lip.

Rei rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a crooked smile. “Fine,” she said climbing up onto the bed and crawling towards them, catlike. She knelt between Axton’s legs and reached behind his head to unfasten the gag.

“The hell are you doing that for? I don’t wanna hear this guy complain all night,” whined Jack.

“He’ll be too busy putting that mouth to work to complain, don’t you worry. Isn’t that right, soldier boy?” she purred, grabbing Axton’s chin and stroking his lower lip with her thumb.

“Mmhmm, whatever you want, darlin’, as long as I get to touch you,” he murmured, his eyes raking over her body hungrily.

Rei smacked his cheek lightly, but firmly. “You don’t get to make demands. The cuffs stay on. Trade places with me.”

Axton awkwardly shifted onto his knees and shuffled out of Rei’s way as she took his spot next to Jack.

“Sit right there, lover boy,” she snapped her fingers at him and pointed between her legs.

He quickly obeyed, keeping his head low to avoid letting the pair see his pleased grin. Rei hooked a leg over his shoulder, pressing into his back with the sharp stiletto of her shoe.

“Down.”

He bent slowly and began kissing a trail up her thigh, nipping at her thong when he reached her pubic bone. He looked up at her and raised an eyebrow questioningly. She gave him a nod and he pulled the garment down with his teeth, tenuously inching it down her legs.

“Lemme help you with that, kiddo,” said Jack lazily, shrugging out of his jacket. He fished around in his pants pocket and produced a switchblade, flipped it open, and hooked it under the waistband of Rei’s panties. Before she could protest, Jack had severed both sides with a flick of his wrist.

“Jack! I liked those!” she hissed in irritation.

“So I’ll buy you another pair,” he murmured, pocketing the knife and kissing his way up her neck before enveloping her mouth. Their lips moved against each other languidly, tongues intertwining, hands tangled in each other’s hair.

Suddenly Rei broke away, moaning wantonly with her eyes screwed shut as she felt Axton’s mouth descend upon the heat between her legs. He lapped at her folds eagerly, dragging his tongue up to swirl around her clit, then back down to dip into her now dripping entrance, kissing and sucking every part of her along the way. After short while, Rei felt the weight of the bed abruptly shift, then heard the creak of a drawer opening. The weight shifted back and Axton cried out, jerking his head up. Rei whined at the loss of contact and sat up on her elbows to see what was the matter.

“Hey, man, are you serious?! You can’t put that on me!” complained Axton, trying to shake off Jack’s grip around his neck.

In the hand that wasn’t clenched around the back of Axton’s neck, Jack held a black leather collar (a plainer version of the one he had given Rei) connected to a chain-link leash. Rei laughed. Jack definitely had an aesthetic, and that was black leather absolutely everywhere. She sat up and folded her legs under her, reaching down to grab Axton’s face and still him.

“Cooperate, or the gag goes back on,” said Rei silkily.

She clenched his jaw in her palm while simultaneously stroking his cheek with her thumb, as though making both a threat and a titillating promise. He huffed in annoyance but slumped down, dropping his head into her lap and allowing Jack to collar him.

“Good boy,” she praised, stroking his hair.

“Thanks, kitten. So can I have a go at him now, or what? Don’t leave me hanging, here,” said Jack impatiently, gesturing towards his ever present, Eridium enhanced erection, still bobbing out of his open fly.

“Aww, you feeling neglected, J? Sure, have at him,” she cooed, crawling over to where Jack knelt behind Axton and sitting up on her knees to nuzzle and nip at his neck.

Jack wound the leash around his hand, curling it into a fist, and when it was short enough, gave it an experimental yank. Axton jerked backward and sputtered, almost losing his balance and toppling back into Jack’s lap. Jack smirked maliciously, the fire still glinting in his eyes.

“Ok, pumpkin. Let’s see what you’re made of,” he said, his voice low and dangerous.

“I, uh… I mean, it’s not my first time at the rodeo, but uh... Don’t go too hard on me, ok?” said Axton, nervously eyeing Jack’s impressively sized cock.

“We’ll see.”

“That means there’s no fuckin’ chance” Rei whispered in Axton’s ear, undoing his belt and pulling down his fly.

She giggled and smacked his ass, urging him up onto his knees while she pulled his pants and boxer briefs down, before unbuttoning his shirt and sliding it down to his elbows. Jack was busily pulling off Axton’s shoes and kicking off his own, then yanking off his vest and shirt without undoing all the buttons. He reached over to the already open drawer beside the bed and pulled out a bottle of lube, slicking up his throbbing erection, and hungrily descending on Axton, forcing his chest down into the bed with a thud. He pressed a hand to his back and held him there while he adjusted Axton’s hips and slid his pants the rest of the way off. Jack began to teasingly press his achingly hard cock between Axton’s cheeks.

“Aw, hey, come on Jack, at least give him a few fingers first,” said Rei sympathetically, although a wicked grin remained fixed across her face.

“Kitten, I don’t think I can wait much longer. I can’t tell if I want to kill something or fuck something, but if one of those two things doesn’t happen soon, I’m definitely going with kill,” Jack said in a strained tone.

“Oh, fuck, come on man…” mumbled Axton into the sheets. He raised his head to glance over his shoulder at Jack, a pleading look in his eyes. “If I survive this night, don’t you want me to at least tell people you’re a good lay? You know they’re gonna ask what Handsome Jack is like in bed …”

Jack shot him one of his signature “if looks could kill” faces and made an exasperated growl deep in his throat in response.

It was clearly taking every ounce of willpower he had to restrain himself from plunging balls deep into the command splayed out before him, but he begrudgingly lubed up a few fingers and got to work. Axton groaned as Jack pumped one large finger into his tight hole, and after a few pumps, another, far too soon for comfort. Jack worked him open quickly, drawing mostly grunts of pain from Axton as he carelessly fucked his fingers into the cuffed man.

“Think you can fucking take me now, cupcake? Or am I still too big for you?” hissed Jack, still pumping his fingers in and out.

“Shut up and do it already, douchebag,” retorted Axton. Jack abruptly yanked his fingers out, making him shudder in pain.

“You reaaally need to remember your manners, or I’m not going to be able to help you, Ax,” Rei said, her voice soft and sickly sweet. She was hovering next to Jack, her arm draped over one of his broad shoulders, her head resting on top of it.

“Oh, sweetheart, nothing can help him now,” growled Jack, lining his cock up with Axton’s quivering hole.

“Maybe he just needs a good dicking. Go on, J, fuck the shit out of him,” urged Rei, her tone absolutely poisonous.

Jack sank into Axton far too quickly, making the commando yelp and writhe underneath him as Jack pressed the weight of his powerful chest into his back. He fell still as Jack gave him a moment to adjust, his breath coming in heavy pants.

“Thaaaaat’s it, deep breaths. Relax, pumpkin, this is nothing. Things haven’t even begun to get bad for you, yet,” crooned Jack as he started to move his hips.

Jack groaned in relief as he slowly thrust his throbbing cock into Axton, the friction easing his frustration. Axton, on the other hand, was struggling not to whimper as the older man began pounding into him, his rhythm going from gentle and controlled to full on jack-hammering in less than a minute.

“So tell me, Axie, did you really think I’d fuck you nicely? That I’d suddenly change my mind about wanting most of you annoying fuckin’ vault hunters dead? You willingly entered the lions’ den, expecting not to get torn to pieces. What the fuck is wrong with you, kiddo?” Jack laughed and punctuated his sentence with a particularly hard thrust, eliciting a satisfying yelp from the man beneath him.

“Guess I’m just a glutton for punishment,” grunted Axton, a hint of amusement in his voice. It seemed as though he was beginning to enjoy himself, and Jack, while pleased that the commando was getting off on being manhandled and tormented by him, wasn’t about to let him enjoy it without consequence.

“Hey, kitten, why don’t you show our friend that little stunt you pulled on Pandora? The one that nearly broke my face?” said Jack, roughly yanking the leash towards himself, forcing Axton to sit up and lean back into his chest. Jack hooked a few fingers under the collar and slowed his thrusts to keep him anchored in place.

Rei, who had been running her nails down Jack’s back and murmuring words of encouragement in his ear, giggled. She reached into Jack’s thigh holster, still bunched around his thighs with his pants, slid out his gun, and turned it on Axton.

“Woah, woah, hold up, at least make it a fair fight if you’re going to try and kill me,” he rasped against the pressure of Jack’s pull on the collar.

“Don’t worry, hun, safety’s on. Doesn’t make it much safer for you, though,” she said with an amused grin, drawing back her arm. She swung the gun down on him, even harder than she had on Jack, decking him across the face, and causing the commando to cry out in pain and surprise. Both Rei and Jack cackled as Axton spat blood onto the bed.

“That all you got, babe?” he said dazedly, giving her a bloodstained grin.

Jack gave the collar a sharp tug.

“We can go harder if you want, kiddo. Just keep running that mouth of yours, see what happens,” he growled. He shoved Axton back down on the mattress and returned to his punishing pace, pumping in and out of him. Axton let out a low moan, his cuffed hands balling into fists behind his back.

Rei watched Jack begin to pant, the muscles in his back tensing. She moved to his side and leaned over Axton to pull Jack into a heated kiss, burying her hands in his hair and digging her nails roughly into his scalp, drawing a soft moan out of the man. All he needed was a little more pain to push him over the edge. She let her lips glide from his mouth, to his jaw, and then down his chest. Rei dragged her tongue over the firm muscles, stopping to lave over his nipple. Suddenly she bit down hard on the tender bud, sending shudders through his body.

“Ah, fuck, kitten, you’re gonna make me cum…” he groaned desperately. “You hear that, Axie? I’m gonna fill your tight little hole and make a huge mess for ya. Let’s see how well you march after being fucked senseless and filled with cum, soldier boy,” he hissed in Axton’s ear.

“Hey, hey, not in-“

Axton tried to protest, but it was too late. Jack was already hunched over his back, one hand buried in Rei’s hair as she continued sinking her teeth into his pectoral, the other between Axton’s shoulders, crushing him into the mattress with all his weight. Jack threw back his head, eyes screwed shut, and gave a final, brutal thrust, sinking his cock all the way to the hilt and letting go. He groaned loudly as he spilled into the man beneath him, his cock twitching and spurting for what felt like ages, pain and pleasure rippling through his body. Finally, he sank forward to lean on his hands, torso still hunched over Axton’s back, head hung low in exhaustion.

“God…damn…that was good. Really fucking good,” he panted, slowly pulling himself out of the commando. A thick stream of cum trickled out of Axton’s abused hole and dribbled down his thighs.

“Fuck you. What the hell,” grumbled Axton, displeased at the wet, tacky feeling of Jack’s cum dripping between his legs.

“HAH! Nope, pretty sure you’re the one who just got fucked here, princess,” said Jack, descending into peels of laughter. “I’ll tell you what, since you got me off so good, I’m gonna let you fuck kitten and get her off that good, too. If she wants. You want that, kitten?”

“About damn time,” she purred, stroking the hair on his chest.

“Well if I’m going to be doing any actual fucking, these cuffs gotta go…”

“Hmm…I do kind of want to see what you’re capable of… Should we trust him, J?”

“Hell, why not. Kid’s earned it. But just to be safe…” Jack pulled his pants back up to his hips, tucking himself away, but leaving the fly open. He removed his gun from its holster and clicked off the safety. “No funny business, ok, kiddo? One wrong move and I’ll blow brains out. And- trust me- it won’t even ruin the mood.”

Jack reached into his pocket and pulled out a key, then went about unlocking the cuffs. Rei slid up the bed to rest her back against the headboard, waiting in eager anticipation.

“Can I go get cleaned up, at least?” asked Axton, sitting up and rubbing his wrists.

“Here,” said Rei, leaning forward and pulling his shirt, still bunched around his elbows, the rest of the way off. She tossed it at him with a derisive laugh.

Axton grumbled but took the shirt and wiped down his legs and ass. He then turned to Rei and slid close enough to nudge her legs apart with his knee, a hand planted on either side of her hips. A devious smile began to play across his lips. He glanced over his shoulder at Jack, checking to see where the gun and leash were in proximity to himself. Jack had given him some slack on the leash to move around, but still had the gun pointed threateningly at his head. The older man moved to kneel beside Axton, also dropping down to lean on his hands, and pressing the gun into his back.

“That good dicking I just gave ya made you a little hard, huh, Axie? You fuckin’ love the abuse, don’t you?” he said, dipping his head to mutter huskily in his ear. Jack licked a hot stripe up Axton’s neck, sending shivers of pleasure down his spine.

Rei reached for Axton’s semi stiff cock and began giving it slow, languid strokes, pleased when he let out a low moan as he hardened beneath her fingers. He leaned in and kissed her, more aggressively and sloppier than he had earlier, and pulled her down underneath him so their hips were flush. He began to grind his now erect length against her pubic bone, enjoying the way her breasts pressed against his chest. He ran a hand down her leg, then suddenly threw it over his shoulder, ignoring the sting as her stiletto dug into his skin. The commando reached between them and began to rub her clit in small circles, making her arch her back as she squirmed underneath him in pleasure.

“Fuck me, soldier boy,” moaned Rei, rolling her hips up to meet his.

“Go on kid, give it to her,” growled Jack, watching the pair lustfully.

Axton positioned himself at Rei’s entrance and sank into her slowly while sucking kisses onto her ankle. He drew himself out almost entirely, just his cockhead teasing her lips, then slowly slid back into her warm, wet heat and repeated the motion.

“Come on soldier, I know you want it rougher than that. We just beat the crap out of you, aren’t you gonna give it right back to us? “ Jack hissed in his ear, as if he was the devil on Axton’s shoulder.

Axton ignored him, opting instead to lean down and suck Rei’s nipple. She moaned and dragged her fingers through his short cropped hair.

“Let’s go kid, if you don’t fuck her proper then I will,” snarled Jack, hooking a finger under his collar and giving it a sharp, warning tug. He was already hard again, waiting, wanting, and aching.

Axton wheezed and glared over at him, but slightly picked up his pace. Rei responded with a pleased little mewl, bringing her hips up to meet his in synchronized rhythm. Axton groaned hotly into her ear, surprised at how close to finishing he already was. He loved danger, and apparently his cock loved it, too.

Suddenly Jack was wrenching him back, sending him toppling to the side.

“Sorry, kid. You had your chance and I’m fuckin’ tired of waiting,” Jack said, shoving his pants off the rest of the way.

Jack pounced upon Rei with a feverish hunger, pulling her legs around his waist and roughly thrusting into her, making her gasp.

“Hang on tight, kitten,” he murmured in her ear, before dropping to his elbows and begging to slam his cock into her at a brutal pace. She gripped his back, her nails digging in deep enough to cause tiny pinpricks of blood to form on the surface of his skin.

Rei was moaning desperately at full volume, unable to control the sounds that Jack was wrenching out of her as he pounded away. Jack himself wasn’t much better, groaning huskily in her ear between heavy breaths, lost in a haze of chemically enhanced arousal.

Rei alternated between moans and whines and whispering filthy things in his ear, egging him on. She dragged her teeth down his neck, biting down hard when she reached the juncture of his neck and shoulder. Jack shuddered in pain and pleasure, feeling a familiar heat pooling in his groin.

“Jack, oh fuck, I’m so close,” she whispered breathily in his ear, eliciting a low, sinful groan from the man.

“Scream my name, baby. You know how I like it. Scream my name while you cum for me, kitten,” he growled.

And in moments, Rei was writhing underneath him, her hips bucking up into his, howling his name in a breathy, high pitched whine. Jack sucked in his breath as her pussy clenched around him, milking his cock, dragging him to the edge. He gave a few more uneven, hitching thrusts and came, slamming his cock into her and spilling inside her with a roar. He continued to press himself as deeply as he could, giving little thrusts, while he rode out the throbbing, twitching spurts of his orgasm, nuzzling her neck and groaning in ecstasy.

After several minutes, Jack raised himself up on his hands, shoulders hunched and panting hard.

“Well,” he said, sounding winded, “that’s how ya do it, kiddo.”

He looked over at Axton, who was leaning against the headboard next to them, one arm behind his head and the other being used to leisurely stroke his very hard cock.

“So, uh… You gonna get out of the way or what?” asked Axton gruffly, his eyes dark with lust.

Jack raised his eyebrows skeptically at him, then sat up and gently maneuvered Rei’s legs to the side. He turned to face Axton.

“Come ‘ere, kid,” Jack ordered, curling a finger at the other man.

Axton shuffled forward obediently, thoughts only focused on getting the relief he so desperately needed.

“Yeah, I’m done sharing,” Jack breathed huskily, “but I’ll tell ya what…” He licked his palm and reached down between them to grab Axton’s cock. The commando grunted and bucked his hips at the contact.

“Ooh, are you gonna help him out, J?” giggled Rei, coming up behind Axton and draping herself over his shoulders.

“I sure am, kitten. I’m just a real nice guy, what can I say?” said Jack cheerfully, beginning to stroke Axton’s leaking cock. He reached up and curled the other hand around Axton’s jaw, holding it firmly.

“Look at me,” he ordered.

Axton kept his eyes shut, not wanting to ruin the sensations coursing through his groin by being eye to eye with the man who once tried to kill him.

“I said look at me,” Jack hissed dangerously.

Axton grudgingly opened his eyes and was met with the manic, fiery glare of one blue eye, one green. Jack’s stare chilled him to the core.

“Don’t forget who’s jerking you off right now, kid. When you’re beating it to this later in whatever shitty, filthy part of the galaxy you came from, just remember that it was Handsome Jack making you cum all over your stupid, pathetic self. Remember that I can kill you just as easily as I can get you off because you’re weak, Axton. You could try to stop me, if you wanted to. But you don’t want to. You’re like putty in my hands. Now cum for me, soldier boy,” said Jack in an unnervingly calm and measured tone, as if he wasn’t jerking off a man he’d just tortured for hours.

Axton screwed his eyes shut again, trying to ignore Jack’s order, willing himself not to give in… But it was all too much. The fast, rough friction of Jack’s hand, Rei’s tongue gliding up his neck and over his jaw, her nails scraping across his chest, and Jack’s words, combined with his dominating presence, his face mere inches from Axton’s own, were all too much. Before he could stop himself, Axton was shooting rope after rope of warm, sticky finish all over his own stomach. He jerked and moaned in Jack’s hand, finally slumping forward, his head hanging low, breath coming in pants. Jack wiped his hand on Axton’s shoulder, grinning maliciously, then went to retrieve his pants and slip them on.

“So now that we’re all squared away here, let’s get down to business. What do we do with you, hmm, Axie? Does he live, or does he die? That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it?” mused Jack, pulling his gun from its holster and spinning it around his finger.

“Maybe he’s ready to tell us who sent him. That might improve his odds, don’t you think?” said Rei sweetly.

“How about it, kid? You ready to talk, or would you rather take your chances?”

“I’m a gambling man. Love that adrenaline rush. So, in other words… you’re not getting shit out of me, old man,” laughed Axton, tauntingly.

Jack stopped spinning his gun, face suddenly contorted with rage.

“Oooh. Ok. Uh-oh. You just-” Rei began.

Jack drew back his fist and slugged Axton squarely in the gut with all his might, knocking the wind of him. The commando bent double, clutching his stomach and gasping for breath.

“-made things worse for yourself.” she said with a sigh.

“Good…arm..." wheezed Axton.

"Yeah. The age thing is kind of a sore spot for Jack."

"Not as sore as he's about to be," muttered Jack under his breath, quietly fuming.

“Ok, ok. Missteps aside, what are we going to do with him?”

“Well, first of all…”

Jack snatched the abandoned handcuffs from the foot of the bed, and, taking advantage of the soldier’s momentary vulnerability after getting punched by what felt like a wrecking ball, wrenched Axton’s arms behind him and slapped the cuffs back on without much of a struggle.

“And now obviously I’m going to beat the ever-loving shit out of him until he gives me useful information, or he dies. We can do this the easy way, or we can do this the blah-blah-blah, too late, tough shit, you already chose, pal,” sneered Jack.

A sudden chiming came from Axton’s discarded pants on the floor. Jack cocked an eyebrow and slid off the bed to retrieve them, pulling the commando’s Echo from his pocket.

“Well I’ll be damned…” he breathed.

“Don’t answer tha-“ Axton began.

“Lilith! To what do I owe the pleasure? Have a nice nap?” said Jack cheerfully, picking up the call.

“Oh what the hell, why do you have Axton’s Echo, you prick?” said Lilith’s scowling hologram.

“I don’t know; why don’t you ask him? Axie, baby, say hello.” Jack turned the Echo’s camera towards him, still naked, collared, and cuffed on the bed.

“AXTON! NOT. AGAIN,” yelled Lilith in frustration. She pressed her finger tips between her eyes, squeezing them shut momentarily.

He hung his head sheepishly, avoiding the hologram’s fierce glare.

“Sorry, Lil.”

“You had one job. ONE. Kill them. Not fuck them. KILL THEM. You couldn’t even stop them from drugging me and Roland! Is it too much to ask that you keep it in your pants for just one night? JESUS!”

“I mean, come on Lil, we both knew this would probably wind up just being a scouting mission, unless an opportunity presented itself. And it did!”

“And you still fucked it up,” she hissed.

“Woah, woah, woah, can we go back to the part about this little shit stain trying to kill us? You hired sweet cheeks here to be your assassin?” asked Jack incredulously.

“Yeah, what of it, Jack?” grumbled Lilith.

He was silent a moment, staring at the hologram in surprise. Suddenly he burst out laughing, cackling so hard that he bent double and clutched his sides.

“Nice work, cupcake! You really know how to pick ‘em,” he said, wiping a tear of mirth away from his eye. Then his voice dropped about two octaves, the laughter abruptly disappearing from his face. “I think we’ll keep him,” he said, his voice quiet and deadly.

“What? No! You can’t-“

“Eye for an eye, sweetheart. You try to fuck us, we try to fuck you… And then we all just end up fucking poor Axton. Well, mostly just me, actually.”

“No, Jack, wait, we’re willing to negotiate.”

“You got a vault key, princess?”

“No…”

“Well then you’ve got nothing I want. And I suggest you don’t come anywhere near the VIP floor unless you want to tango with fifty Badass Loader Bots, ten turrets, and my main man, Wilhelm. He’s around here somewhere. Who knows, maybe he’s even on his way down to you already! Cia!”

“Wait! What about-“

Jack hung up the call.

“So much for that truce, huh? What a cunt,” he said, turning to Rei.

She had pulled a pack of cigarettes from the bedside table and had one dangling from her mouth, and was now sitting with her back against the headboard, arms crossed, glowering. She pulled a lighter from the pack and lit her cigarette, inhaling deeply, then exhaled a slow, steady stream of swirling smoke.

“That bitch. I made sure you didn’t kill her, or even harm her, just so she could send an assassin after us? Un-fucking-believable.”

“That’s what people do, kiddo. They’ll smile to your face while stabbing you in the back. Although… this guy wasn’t much of an assassin, now, was he?” he said, ruffling Axton’s hair.

“You two gonna kill me, or what?” grunted Axton.

“Honestly? Haven’t decided yet. Make yourself useful, and who knows, maybe there’s a job for you at the Rhysie Pole. You definitely won’t be a free man ever again, though, that’s for sure. Now, as much as I want to stay and play, we should probably put some distance between us and the fire-bitch. Get dressed, kitten.”

“Back to Helios?” she asked, flicking her cigarette.

“Yep. Looks like we’ve got some work to do,” he said, cracking the leash over Axton’s back like a whip and cackling as the commando howled in pain.

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