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sirthisisa-wendys · 4 years ago

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The Enforcers: Part 5 (Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader)

wc: 1.7k

tw: NSFW. (It's finally happening.)

masterlist

Suguru stares at the screen in disbelief.

"I don't know what else to say," you breathe, eyes wide. "I think that we should go to the Grand Council or my parents and--"

"It's a hoax," he frowns, shaking his head. "None of this makes any sense. And I've seen fabricated shit like this before."

"But the timestamps!" you retort, pointing at the metadata.

"Those can be fabricated by using an old machine. You can't trust anything these days unless it comes from the Archives."

"But--"

"I think you need to delete these and forget about it. This is someone's sick idea of a joke, y/n." Suguru stands, scowling at the computer one last time before turning away. "I'll figure out who did this. Don't worry. Just delete that shit and don't mention it to anyone." Suguru stalks out of the room and you look at the files, dragging them to the trash before turning your computer off and trying to put it out of your mind.

_____________________________________________________________

You're back at the club with your friends, sitting among new faces and old ones just the same. But the nagging feeling that something isn't right is dragging across the pit of your stomach like a rake. When you glance at Suguru, he's laughing with his other Leviathan friends, but barely touching his only drink.

He must be unnerved by it, too, you think, and rub your forehead before watching Yuji try his best dance moves on Nobara, which fails miserably, of course. Yuki sits to your left, also watching the show with varying degrees of amusement before looking over at you.

"Why the long face, Ms. Successful? Is this too boring for you?" You consider telling her what's really bothering you, turning to her in the dim lighting and pressing your lips together. Her face changes and you know your secret can't be kept for long.

"What would you do if someone played a really bad prank on you?"

"What, did Suguru piss on your curtains?"

"Huh?" You look at her in shock, and she shrugs.

"Alright, maybe that's just a Toji thing. My bad." She sips her drink thoughtfully. "What kind of prank are you talking about?"

"Someone..." You hesitate, but decide to keep going anyways. "Someone put files on my computer to make it seem like my parents were involved with something called Project Kudzu and Project Redroot." Yuki frowns deeply, blinking rapidly.

"Y/n, I've never heard of those things before." You sigh, shaking your head. "Did they have any real proof?"

"Yeah, some audio files, two videos, and a bunch of TS-CO labeled documents that--" A hand lands on your shoulder, and you look up to see Suguru standing above you.

"That pre-game was wild, wasn't it?" Pre-game? "Sorry, Yuki. Y/n here had a whole bottle of red wine and played some weird game before coming. She's been going on about it to me for hours... projects and stuff." Yuki laughs, waving him off.

"It's okay! I was a little confused, too, but I get it. Girl," she turns to you, shaking her head. "You should probably go home and get some rest. If I had known you were drunk already I would've--"

"I'm not drunk," you reply, looking back and forth between Suguru and Yuki. "I swear, I'm not--"

"Let me get you home, party girl," Suguru mumbles, pulling you up from your seated position and gripping your hand tightly as he drags you along with him. "It's been a long day."

"But I'm not--" The look Suguru gives you is deadly, and you shut your lips as he takes you to the car you both came in, opening your door silently. You slide into the seat and he shuts the door with force, climbing into the driver's seat, but not starting the car. He grips the steering wheel and clenches his jaw, finally muttering,

"Didn't I tell you not to say anything to anyone?"

"Suguru, this has been bothering me for days! I don't know what to do!"

"I'm trying to find out who would break into your room and do this to you. Can you let me work?" he asks tersely. "For once in your life, can you let someone look out for you?" His black eyes are blazing in the dim light of the parking lot, and your bottom lip quivers.

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay," he exhales, starting the car. "I just... I just need you to let me figure this out. Someone isn't playing nice in our own organization and if it comes at the expense of my partner, I'm not having it. Lay low for me for a while, got it?" Suguru places his hand on your thigh and you nod, feeling your heart pick up an uneven rhythm. Your mouth goes dry at his lingering touch, but before you can think about it any further, he removes his hand and pulls out of the parking lot to take both of you back to the base.

When you get back to your barracks, you pause in the living room, looking over at your Leviathan as he removes his leather jacket and deposits it on the couch, sighing. You slowly approach him from behind and touch his back, which makes him flinch a little.

"I don't know why you continue to put up with my antics," you murmur and he huffs a breath out, shaking his head. "But thank you for saving my ass... and for looking out for me." Suguru turns to you, his lips quirking up a bit.

"Little Ms. Successful is thanking me for my service? Are you drunk?" Your cheeks heat up at the nickname and you roll your eyes, about to turn away from him when he catches your wrist. "Don't do that," he breathes, bringing you in close so your chests are touching. Your breathing hitches and he raises his knuckles, grazing them over your cheek. You close your eyes at the contact, and he slides his fingers down to your chin, tilting it up and humming softly.

"Open your eyes," Geto whispers, and you do so, trying your best not to seem too flustered. He leans down, brushing his lips across yours for permission, and your close your eyes again, letting him kiss you. When his lips separate from yours, he touches your nose with his, and you raise up on your tiptoes to feel his lips on yours again. "Are you sure you want to do that?" he wonders as you pull away. You nod your head, and he laughs softly.

"I do want to keep kissing you, yes," you reply, and he wraps a hand around your waist, lifting you off your feet and wrapping your legs around him.

"Nothing good comes of that," he warns, but you scoff.

"I'd beg to differ."

And that's how you find yourself on his neatly made bed, legs pushed up to your chest as Suguru greedily laps at your cunt like a starving man. "Su..." you moan, and he grunts in response. "That feels so good."

"I bet it does," the Leviathan replies, raising his brow at you salaciously before flicking your clit with his tongue. Your toes curl painfully as he dips a finger into you, then raises it up to your lips, tugging your mouth open so you can taste yourself. You suck on the digit with pleasure, humming when he pulls it back out and finger fucks you while sucking on your clit.

You buck under his grip, but he raises off of you, denying you an orgasm so soon. Geto kisses you deeply, swiping his tongue across yours so you can taste yourself again, then sits up, motioning for you to do the same.

"You want to do this?"

"Yeah." Suguru pulls his long hair up with an elastic and removes his pants, climbing back onto the bed and sitting against the headboard. He pulls you into his lap and raises you up, allowing you to grasp his hard length before sliding onto it carefully.

"Easy, easy..." he hisses, and you slow down, taking him inch by inch. You place your arms around his neck and rock back and forth, closing your eyes when you feel all of him nestled inside of you. Suguru groans, closing his eyes and tilting his head forward onto your shoulder. "Hold on, I'm gonna lay on my back." You allow him to slide forward, and he pushes you down onto his chest with a broad hand before pumping into you methodically.

"Oh, god..." you moan, and Suguru exhales shakily. "Su, you feel amazing."

"Say it a little louder so our neighbors can hear you," he jokes, but you clench around him and his laughter is cut short. "Fuck!" The man beneath you smacks your ass, and you yelp in response. "Keep doing that and this will be over faster than you can spell your own name."

"Then fuck me and quit being a smart ass," you gripe. Suguru shrugs and mutters,

"You asked for it." before slamming his hips into your ruthlessly. You cry out at the sensations his pace brings, and he grips your wrist as you lift off of him, holding your left hand against his chest. "Stay right here, princess. I'm not letting you go for shit." Your mouth seems to maintain its "O" shape the entire time he's fucking you senseless, and you can't say a word, eyes crossing and making you see double of your partner.

"Oh, god," you finally shudder, and Suguru lets go of your hand to lean you back down, mouth latching on one of your breasts.

"Cum for me," Geto challenges you before going back to sucking on your nipples relentlessly. You feel something inside of you break - almost like a busted dam releasing a flood of sensations and emotions that you've held at bay since you arrived here. "Oh, you're doing so good," Suguru grunts, holding you as you tremble fiercely while his hips stutter. "Just let it all go."

And for some reason, tears - actual tears - come out of your eyes as if this sexual release also broke your heart in two.

"Did I hurt you?" Suguru asks, swiping at your tears with a worried expression.

"No," you reassure him, shaking your head fiercely. "Not at all."

"Hmmm..." He rests your head against his chest as his breathing slows, hands stroking your back and hair with care. "You've had a hard couple of days. Just rest, alright? I'll be here when you wake up." So, you fall asleep, trusting your partner who's never betrayed you before.

_____________________________________________________________

TAGLIST: @missbonekitty @wack0-genius @thankuary @jsqeeut@r-i-m-f-009 @sunfloweroranges @leanne-tamashi @girlruby23@rein-icu @brownskinnedgirll @chanelmalandro @savantsoulfinder @jibe-gajima @chilledlucifer @amnxsia @kontentious @fuyuko26 @everybodylovescayrayray @flare-on

#getou suguru x reader #jjk getou #jujutsu kaisen geto #getou x reader #getou suguru #geto smut #geto suguru #jjk smut

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clownistyping · 4 years ago

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A Witch & A Hick, Chp. 3

Little Secret

This chapter is just the two learning about each other and car problems lol.

Also warning for Elizabeth offering sex as payment lol, it doesn't happen. Also I do hc Lester living in a trailer bc its extremely common and realistic tbh.

Lester puts the truck in drive and looks at Elizabeth as he presses the brake,

"I remember you said there's a town nearby, any chance we can go there to fix up my van?" Elizabeth asks as she pets the two dogs,

"No need, they'll charge ya criminal prices. I can fix it." Criminal prices, he repeats in his head.

"Oh come on, you've already done so much." Elizabeth says her face soft,

"I insist! I can't just let them uh take ya money when I can fix it for free." He smiles and Elizabeth mirrors it. Lester gives from the brakes and drives towards his home,

"I have a feeling there's something...more behind this." Lester gulps,

"What made ya think that?" Lester nervously laughs and his hands tighten around the wheel,

"That's how most men are, expect a favor for a favor. Though they often expect ya know." Lester blinks and cringes,

"Aw that! I wasn't thinking anything like that, hell I wasn't even thinking about you doing anything."

"I mean I'll do it." His eyes widen and he stops the truck again,

"What?" He blushes and looks at the girl,

"I'll get you off, I've done it before."

"No no! I have to decline, I just ain't that kinda man." Lester nods to the woman who shrugs, he lied. He is that kinda man, he's had victims beg for safety with offers of sex. He always took it, but let's the girls fall back in the hands of his brothers.

"Not that I don't find ya pretty!" He defends quickly and Elizabeth laughs,

"You're real purdy, I just. I just can't." He sighs and Elizabeth notices how tense he is.

"Thanks, for calling me pretty." She smiles,

"I think you're real pretty too." She compliments Lester who blushes again, Lester has never talked to a stranger this long. Never had a girl call him pretty, never met her.

"Ya just sayin that cuz I'm given ya a ride." Lester chuckles and Elizabeth shakes her head,

"Nope," she pops her P,

"Everybody's beautiful in they're own way, just as nature intended." Lester blinks and remembers her van, the witchy collection in it.

"Oh right, you're a witch!" Lester exclaims and Elizabeth nods,

"How'd you know?" She teased and Lester laughs,

"How'd you even get in all that junk anyways?" Lester asks and flicks his hat,

"It ain't junk. Don't be rude," Elizabeth smirks and Lester nods his head, Jonesey puts her head on Lester's lap. He pets the dogs head.

"Sorry but, how did you ya know..start?"

"My sister got me my tarot cards, she really showed me the basics of witchcraft. Our parents didn't really care all that much but never let us do it in the house. Guess that's why I moved out so early too." Elizabeth laughs,

Lester pulls up towards a driveway of a trailer.

The trailer is a once white single wide, covered in vines and ivy. Bones hung from the porch ceiling,

Elizabeth notices his front door was wide open, and in the yard were scatters of trash, car parts, bones and more. The windows were open but blinds were keeping the inside blocked.

It looks like nobody lives there, as stray cats scurried under the trailer and hissed at each other.

"I'll be quick, I'll just unload your van and fix her right up in a jiffy." Lester smiles at the girl and gets out of the truck, Jonesey follows and Mac follows after her.

Elizabeth smiles as she watches the two dogs sniff around and play, getting out of the truck her barefeet sink into the grass and dirt. She stretches, the truck wasn't entirely comfortable with Mac siting right on her.

"Sorry for the mess, I don't really have guests." Lester says as he unhooks the van,

"Its fine, I've seen much worse."

"Nah, doubt it." Lester shakes his head and wipes his hands on his jeans, Elizabeth takes note of the depreciation joke he says.

As Lester pops her hood and smoke rises from it, Elizabeth frowns.

"That happened before?" Lester asks as he waves the smoke off, Elizabeth nods.

"Yeah, I've had a couple engine problems. Mainly because of oil, but my light wasn't even on."

"Yup, cars will do that. Just spring a problem on ya right as ya were doing fine." Lester grazes his hand over the engine and instantly finds the problem,

"When's the last time ya changed the cooling fan?"

"Never."

"Cleaned it?"

"Never." Lester sighs and Elizabeth frowns,

"That bad?" He nods,

"Your engine is busted, you're gonna need a new one."

"Nooooo." Elizabeth groans

"Hey its okay, this happens all the time. It's just an accident." Lester tries to comfort the girl, she squats and hides in her knees.

"Hey now," Lester gets on his knee and pats the girls back.

"We can maybe order one from the next town over, but it'll take a while for it to come in since we're basically in the middle of no where." Lester then sits with the girl and he blinks when he hears a sob come from her.

"Jeez darlin, it ain't anything to cry about." He says and Elizabeth looks up, her makeup more runny than before,

"This is my karma! I know it is and- and I shouldn't be cryin-ing but-" she hides her face again and Lester stutters,

"Aw no no, this ain't karma just an accident. Honest."

He isn't entirely sure what else to do, seen plenty of girls cry in Ambrose. Ain't none of them cried like this.

Crying about karma, hell if karma was real he'd be dead, he thinks and shakes his head. He gently pats the girls back as she sobs. The two dogs show up and sit around the two Mac places his head on the girls back. Pushing Lester's hand away, Elizabeth quickly hugs her dog.

After a couple minutes, her sobs stop and she looks up.

"Im sorry Lester, I just. It's just been a lot today," she says and wipes her eyes, smudging her makeup.

"Wanna talk about it?" Lester ask and Elizabeth looks around, noticing the sun is starting to set.

"No, not right now. I'm just tired now, sorry for bothering you with my emotions and junk."

"Ain't no bother at all, I'm happy to help." She shows a smile from his words as he stands, he puts his hand out and she takes it to stand.

"I know, and thanks again. Do you think it's alright if my van stays the night? I'll try to go to another town in the morning and order an engine. I'll find a motel too." She says, trying to clean her face up from tears and makeup.

Lester raises a brow, and Elizabeth shakes her head already knowing he'll offer his home.

"Lester please you've already done so much for me! I promise that by tomorrow I'll be out of your hair." She says and Lester shakes his head,

"Darlin, How about we both go into town order you an engine and when it gets here I can put it in. If you think I'm letting you sleep in that hot van for the night you're dead wrong." Lester stands up straight and crosses his arms, Elizabeth actually has to look up to see his face.

"I've got a spare room, it's messy and mainly holds all my junk but it's got a bed, a desk and a closet." Lester says and Elizabeth takes a deep breathe,

"Thank you," she says and Lester uncrosses his arms,

"I mean it, without you I'd probably be kidnapped by some crazy guy. Unless you are the crazy guy." She jokes and Lester nervously laughs.

"I like to call myself unqiue." Lester jokes and Elizabeth laughs,

"That you are friend, that you are." Elizabeth says and watches as the sun falls behind the trees.

After grabbing her needed things from the van, the two walk towards the trailer.

The two walk onto the wooden porch, Elizabeth's hands grazing the bones hanging above,

"Those are my people repellents, makes hikers skedaddle." Lester jokes and Elizabeth smiles,

"They're beautiful," she compliments and Lester walks through the open door,

"Yup, they sure are. I uh, I keep my door open so the strays can come in and relax and get away from the heat." He says and flicks on a light, it blinks a few times but turns on.

The two are standing in the living room, the couches covered in fur and scratches. Clothes are all around and clean and unclean bones sit on the coffee table.

But the recliner is free of fur, just a flannel on the back.

Lester notices his playboy magazine on the coffee table and quickly snatches up the magazine, Rolling it up he laughs embarrassingly.

"Sorry about that, again not often I get guests." Elizabeth smiles and shakes her head. From behind the two, Mac and Jonesey come running in. They jump on the couch and sit next to each other.

"My house is there house." Lester pets Jonesy's head and smiles, putting the magazine behind the couch during this. He turns to face Elizabeth whose staring at the bones,

"I'll show you to ya room," Lester walks to the right and opens a bedroom door,

The bedroom filled with bones in boxes, books, clothes and random knick knacks. He quickly lifts boxes from the bed and pats the dust off.

"My casa your casa." He smiles and Elizabeth places her stuff down, Lester stands in the doorway now.

"Thanks again, Lester. I really appreciate it." Elizabeth puts her hand out and Lester looks down at it. It's so small, he gently grabs it and Elizabeth grabs one of the bracelets on her wrist. She brings it over her hand and onto his,

"I can't not give you a gift." She says and lets him go, Lester looks down at the bracelet. A whole set of animal teeth with beads in between.

"I- thank you. It's so purdy." He says and continues,

"You're a real uh...what's it called?"

"Freak?" He quickly shakes his head, and takes her hand again. Putting their wrists together with the bracelets,

"Unique," he smiles, "You're a real unique girl."

"Is it because I mess with bones and junk?"

"Well that, and because you're real nice." Elizabeth smiles,

"You're just as unique as me Lester." She says and the two look at each other for a second, wanting this conversation not to end but not sure how to continue.

Suddenly from behind Lester, Mac barks.

Elizabeth laughs,

"It's past his bedtime, sorry he gets cranky when he's not in bed by this time." Lester let's the dog run past him and onto the bed,

"Well, goodnight, um. Sleep tight?"

"You too Lester." Elizabeth quietly shuts her door and Lester stares at the closed door. Jonesy whines from behind him,

Lester turns to the dog and squats, he pets the dogs cheeks and smiles.

"She'll be our little secret, right Jonesey?" The dog licks his face.

#house of wax #house of wax 2005 #lester sinclair #lester sinclair x reader #my writing #self insert #self ship #oc x canon #canon x oc

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aliferous-ly · 5 years ago

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I've never really asked for a drabble before... If it's okay with you, could you do 7 "I almost lost you" and 32 "I think I'm in love with you and I'm terrified" with Logan and Deceit? I just kinda thought that it had the potential to make some angst with a happy ending. Oh and I only found you recently, but I love the writing that I've seen so far. I always love finding amazing writers. (I'm sorry, I'm a total suck up)

im gonna start this with if you’re on mobile, i am So Sorry

i started this and was like “ha im getting a little carried away” and then went “oh no”

and thank u dear!! that’s v sweet of u awe

summary: Declan is a loud and proud aromantic. Then he realizes why he feels weird, and off, and awkward around his best friend, Logan, and his world starts to crumble.

warnings: f word twice, lying, parent being imprisoned, angst, questioning identity, if there’s anything else lmk!!

It starts, Declan thinks, when Logan smiles.

The situation starts out innocuous -- they’re sitting in Logan’s room, Declan tossing a tennis ball up and catching it unsuccessfully, making a right disaster of Logan’s room with all the objects he keeps knocking to the floor. Logan, naturally, continues doing his homework.

And they’re just -- talking.

Declan likes to think his world should shift on a more momentous occasion, maybe with fireworks, fingers brushing against one another dramatically, Jason Mraz playing in the background.

But it’s the smallest thing. Declan throws the tennis ball up in the middle of his sentence -- “You can’t tell me you hate white pines, they have the softest needles” -- and he misses it on the way down.

So he takes a tennis ball to the face and sits up, sputtering, rubbing at his nose, arm reaching out to snatch it before it rolls too far.

Logan chokes out a laugh, eyes squinty and wrinkled at the edges. His laugh fills the room for a few thrilling moments and Declan thinks it’s the most beautiful sound in the world and he can’t stop staring at Logan’s engaging face, in the upturn of his lips and dimples carved in his cheeks.

He’s radiant.

Declan’s heart squeezes, lungs filling with something heavier than air, a foreign feeling washing through his veins. Like rose petals or sunlight. Woodsmoke or freshly fallen snow.

The gears in his chest shift and settle and he feels… right. More right than he’s ever been.

Which is, of course, why fear swiftly follows this gorgeous wash of emotions, because this is unusual and anything unusual is often bad.

Declan forces down the incoming wave of anxiety, schooling his expression into one of smooth disdain.

Just in time, too, because Logan opens his mouth and says, “It was only a matter of time until you paid for your crimes.”

“I’m too pretty to die,” Declan replies, thanking the heavens that while his brain may be steadily turning into mush (have Logan’s eyes always been that striking? Or his shoulders that broad?) his tongue still works.

“Implying Death themself has a type, intriguing,” Logan says. He flashes a look over his computer, the after effects of joy still written on his features. “Bold of you to declare what Death likes.”

Declan tries for a smirk but can feel the way his mouth turns to genuine grin, the traitor. “Aw, Logie, are you saying I’m not everyone’s type?”

“That would be rather ironic, wouldn’t it?” Logan says wryly. He types away at his computer, dutiously finishing an English assignment that Declan is currently ignoring for bigger and better things. “The aromantic everyone pines over.”

That strikes an odd chord in Declan’s chest, like he’s a half-tone off; not quite wrong, but not quite right, either. His expression must change, because Logan pauses in his typing. He blinks at Declan. “Something wrong?”

Of course, that’s when Declan’s brain decides that those words are simply too much, too much, his shoulders tightening, back tensing. It’s like his rib cage is squeezing his vital organs, which seems rather counterintuitive. He hates this unknown, this awkward buzz against his skin, the prickling feeling through his bones.

The resounding crash of everything happening all at once is overwhelming and Declan can’t seem to decide whether to sit as still as humanly possible or bolt.

Or, of course, do what he does best.

Lie.

“I forgot to do something for my mom,” Declan says, barely registering the words before they fall from his lips. He hasn’t lied to Logan in a very, very long time (he knows it’s because they have been best friends for ages, but his mind twists it into something of a foreshadow, even though it’s not, it’s not) and the resurgence of his bad habits leaves a nasty taste in his mouth, but. Desperate times. Desperate measures.

“Oh,” Logan says, disappointed, and Declan longs to explain -- what?

He angrily shoves the emotions deep into his chest. If he can’t explain them, he’s not going to give them the right of control over his actions.

(He ignores the prevalent fact that he has just lied to his best friend in order to escape his presence, but denial, evidently, is not just a river in Egypt).

“Sorry,” Declan spits out, meaning so much more than it seems. He stands, grabs his backpack, shoving papers and folders into it haphazardly. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow,” Logan calls out hollowly. Declan takes that as his leave and he slips out Logan’s bedroom door, backpack in tow, keys clicking in his pocket.

Something deep inside him aches. But he doesn’t know why.

Frustrated, Declan gets into his car and slams the door shut, fingers white-knuckled against the steering wheel. He takes a breath. He’s fine, he’s fine. He’s probably just sick, or something.

Or something.

Not for the first time, Declan longs for a working aux connection.

Because flicking through radio stations does not help.

Lewis Capaldi croons Someone you loved on one, Sam Smith singing Dancing with a Stranger. He woefully flips through two channels on commercial break, groaning when the last one has Adele, which, really?

He remembers Virgil’s favorite station, and turns up the volume to forty, My Chemical Romance’s Mama screaming from his speakers. He pulls into his driveway with Hallelujah by Panic! at the Disco blowing his ears out when he remembers that Logan once spent hours rambling about Brenden Urie and a conspiracy about curses and he slams his palms on his steering wheel, furious.

Can he not escape Logan for a moment?

As Declan slams the car door shut, throwing his backpack over his shoulders, and freezes at the sight of the stupid Beware, dog sign that Logan had vandelized to read Beware, snake, he realizes that no, he really can’t. Because Logan is his best friend, his favorite person, and his life is irreversibly intertwined with Logan unless he up and leaves with absolutely nothing, starting from scratch. Which would be worse than death.

He trudges up the stairs like a funeral dirge and when his door shuts with a click he leans against it, steadily sliding down until his knees almost touch his chin.

“Fuck,” Declan says out loud, unable to keep the emotion termoil inside like it should be.

His phone buzzes where it fell from his hands, angry against the carpet. Declan sighs. Rubs a hand down his face. And picks up the phone.

There’s one text from Logan that reads, “are you okay? I’m not irritated but you left rather…”

Well. The beginning reads as such. Declan assumes there’s more, but he’s unwilling to open it for the time being.

Then he has three from Virgil, two of which reference an obscure meme video and the third which reads “r u home i wanna play dark souls on ur ps4”.

And there’s a text from Patton asking if he wants normal chocolate chips or mint ones, and a followup that proclaims “never mind i got both! :3c”.

He sends a quick “no” back to Virgil and merely opens the texts from Patton, leaving only Logan’s unopened. I’m not irritated but you left rather… suddenly?

A strange emotion flutters about Declan’s chest and he groans. He doesn’t feel this way about his other friends, not even Virgil, who he’s known for ages and has gone through four too many devastating arguments to not be close with. Nor does he feel like this with Patton, his brother. Those bonds are, he’s certain, platonic--

Declan lurches forwards with a gasp, the realization bowling him over and leaving him breathless. He curls his fingers into the carpet, focusing on the texture instead of the immediate swirl of panic.

He -- does he have a crush on Logan? Him, Declan, the aromantic king, who once boasted the world could never produce a human Declan could fall in love with?

And it doesn’t track with him falling for Logan either because Declan would have loved him months earlier, suddenly falling in love with someone he’s loved platonically… it just doesn’t make sense. Declan can’t wrap his mind around it.

Maybe he’s just reading the emotions wrong. How can he -- what can he do that -- which --

What would Logan do?

An experiment, Declan’s mind supplies helpfully, so, well. Declan pressed his back against the wood of his door and thinks.

Hypothesis: he’s in love with Logan.

In love? A very rational part of his brain yells. You were talking about a crush before!

So Declan thinks, and revises. Hypothesis: he’s feeling romantic attraction to Logan.

Then he takes a few minutes trying to remember the following step in the scientific method and ends up looking it up on his phone, and it’s really long so he’s just going to cut some corners.

Procedure:

Well, Declan can’t think of any way to do this physically without making an entire fool of himself, so he changes the experiment into a thought experiment.

Procedure: Consider emotions of other relationships and compare to feelings for Logan.

Okay. Declan settles. He considers. He tries to imagine holding hands with Virgil and giving him flowers, but he can’t really picture giving Logan flowers either, so if it’s weird for both -- but he wants to hold Logan’s hand, not Virgil’s, and sometimes Patton’s, and Patton is his brother, he knows for sure his emotions are strictly platonic. So if Patton is the control group, the certainty of platonic emotions, Virgil is the one with normal emotions, and Logan has some weird emotions, so if Virgil and Logan’s are merely two different shades of friendship then Declan will know.

Declan closes his eyes and imagines kissing Logan, because that’s what romantic partners do, right? He imagines stepping closer to him until there’s inches of space between them.. Declan thinks about leaning in, brushing lips before pressing in, heat curling in his chest and oh god, oh god Declan’s face is on fire.

His eyes shoot open and he can only imagine how panicked he must look right now. He presses his hand against his chest, taking deep breaths. Then, reluctantly, he thinks about kissing Virgil -- nope, nope, eugh he physically shakes his head, gut rolling uncomfortably.

So that is a big contender for Declan has romantic feelings for Logan.

He sighs and clunks his head against the door. This sucks. Declan hates feelings.

The door downstairs sounds, opening and closing, followed by a resounding, “HEY, CICI, LOVE YOU!”

Dee sighs, a smile flickering across his face. He pushes to his feet and exits his room, wandering downstairs, aloof.

“Hey Pat,” he says, leaning against a wall.

“Ci, I’m making lots of cookies!” Patton declares, beaming at him, and Declan’s heart drops.

His expression must, too, because Patton’s features are suddenly painted in concern. “What’s wrong?”

“I should be asking you that,” Declan says, and he feels bad, unexpectedly, for not replying to Patton’s text earlier. “Lots of cookies? With mint and chocolate chips? Enough to feed an army?”

Patton’s arms wilt and Declan reads the tremor in his shoulders, the glisten of his eyes. Patton tries for a smile and misses by a mile.

Declan crosses to where Patton stands in five steps, wrapping his arms around his smaller brother, pressing his cheek against Patton’s head. “What’s wrong?”

Patton takes a shuddering breath, returning the hug. “Nothing, really. I’m glad you’re home.”

“Ah,” Declan says. He tightens his grip on Patton. “Do you want help?”

“No.” Patton presses his face into Declan’s chest. He’s shaking, ever so slightly. “Can you talk with me at the counter, though?”

“Of course,” Declan agrees, mentally side-tabling his emotional turmoil.

“Okay,” Patton says. He’s quiet for a few more moments, then says, “And Steven Universe later?”

“Anything,” Declan says. He makes a face. The word had slipped out unbidden, but Patton doesn’t tease him for it.

“Alright.” Patton pulls away, takes a breath. “I’m about to make the best damn cookies the world has ever seen.”

“Damn straight,” Declan says, grinning. Patton pauses for just one moment more before moving to the kitchen, dropping various ingredients onto the counter and moving smoothly to gather more.

Declan wonders at his influence on Patton’s vulgar mouth, then shrugs. Patton’s a teenager. He can do what he wants.

“Weren’t you hanging out with Logan?” Patton asks conversationally. He’s pulling down bowls and sugar, obviously expecting easy small talk. And normally Logan is easy for Declan to talk about. He talks about him all the time.

So when Declan winces, Patton turns and addresses him with full attention, brows furrowed. “What? What happened?”

“I…” Declan considers for a moment to just lie about it but dismisses the thought. This is Patton. “I think I have a romantic attraction for him.”

Saying it out loud only cements the certainty in Declan’s chest. No, he hasn’t quite completed the experiment, but he just… knows.

The knowledge is both relieves and spikes his anxiety about the whole situation.

“Oh,” Patton says, eyes wide. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really,” Declan says honestly.

“Alright,” Patton says. He turns back around and a wave of affection flows through Declan. “How did Roman do on his audition?”

Declan hums, eternally grateful for Patton’s ability to turn the conversation away. They talk about Roman’s skill as an actor for a few minutes, jumping to Patton’s involvement in VEX robotics (focusing on the robotics instead of the people) and they kill about forty minutes with Patton talking about his baby bot, Pat Jr.

When the clock strikes seven, Declan throws together two grilled cheese sandwiches and they eat in front of Steven Universe and the gems, Declan stretched out along the couch and Patton creating a throne of blankets for himself.

“I know you don’t want to talk about it,” Patton murmurs, eyes never straying from the bursts of pastel on the screen, “but if you do have a romantic attraction to Logan it’s okay. You weren’t wrong in saying you’re aromantic. Because that fits you, you like it. There’s just more strings attached than you originally thought.”

Declan blinks, the smallest smile growing on his face. “Thanks, Pat.”

Patton hugs a pillow, eyes bright. “Love you, Ci.”

Declan pushes his foot against Patton’s blanket pile in response.

“Do you think we have to move?” Patton says, three hours into their movie night.

Declan breathes, slowly inhaling as if it gives him an excuse to not reply. “I didn’t. I don’t want to. But probably.”

“That’s why you haven’t told anyone,” Patton says. He shifts, turning to look at Declan. Declan maintains eye contact with the screen, despite having seen this movie countless times. “And why you told me to keep it under wraps.”

“Yes,” Declan says, because really, he lies to the world, but he doesn’t lie to Patton.

He tries not to lie to Patton.

“But something changed yesterday.” Patton’s not asking questions. Somehow, he just knows, despite being left out of the loop. “And you were going to tell Logan today.”

“Yes,” Declan says. Static thrums through his veins. Aladdin ignores a buzzing genie on screen, swatting him away to benefit his own desires.

“What happened?”

“Mom’s not getting out,” Declan says simply, because that’s it, really. Their mother is not getting out of jail. And with no father, their final hope is their uncle, three states over. Their father’s brother.

Two months away from eighteen, and Declan is forced to concede.

“When?” Patton asks. He’s trembling, but he’s not crying. Declan knows that will come later.

“Because of the legal mixups and leaning on Sasha, two weeks, probably,” Declan says. Sasha is, of course, their next door neighbor, the crazy cat lady of the street who “watches” the boys “all the time”.

“Two weeks,” Patton whispers. There’s a sheen in his eyes. Declan tries not to look but his gaze is like a magnet and Patton stares, stares, stares. “That’s not enough time. That’s not…”

Declan closes his eyes.

He really thought he would win.

He thought he could win.

They only had to last two more months. His deadbeat mom had to last two months and they couldn’t even keep the legal proceedings--

He takes a breath. “Uncle Thomas is nice, at least.”

“I don’t want uncle Thomas,” Patton snaps.

“Well we don’t have a choice, Pat,” Declan bites out, stomach rolling at the words, eyes snapping open.

Patton recoils, hurt flickering behind his eyes, but Declan knows it’s not enough to overpower the fire roaring in Patton’s lungs. “We did, we could have put more savings into mom’s defense, we could have found a place to live before it was our last resort but now we have to tell all our friends that we’re moving hundreds of miles away in two weeks!”

“Mom doesn’t deserve to get out,” Declan spits.

“I don��t CARE.” Patton’s fingers are clenched in fists. He stands. “I don’t care if mom deserves it or not. We deserve to stay.”

“The world doesn’t work like that,” Declan says.

Patton opens his mouth and snaps it shut, obviously restraining himself. A thousand emotions swim behind his eyes. Declan hates every single moment but he doesn’t say a word.

He leaves.

He leaves Declan sitting alone on the couch, watching Patton’s favorite movie. A door slams shut and Declan exhales heavily. They don’t get into fights, it’s just not -- Patton’s normally too upbeat to bother, Patton hates being angry, Declan normally doesn’t -- there’s nothing to get angry about, not in the grand scheme of things. They share easily, they have chaotic conversations, they…

They’re fighting.

Declan buries his head in his hands. He was too hopeful, too caught up on the possibility of the future to notice the sinkhole of reality.

He really thought -- things would work out, Patton has his lucky charm of a personality and Declan works, he works hard, so things should -- Declan’s a senior in high school, halfway through the first semester, he should be worried about grades and school dances and friends and crushes and --

Logan.

Declan curls, releasing something like a sob or maybe a dry heave. Whether or not he’s in love with Logan (most signs point to yes but there’s no way Declan’s addressing that) he still loves Logan, he loves being with him and talking to him and ordering his ice cream before Logan gets there to see the surprised and fond expression cross his face.

Two weeks?

To say goodbye to his best friend?

Before moving, before picking up his entire life and his family (just -- Patton. Just Patton) and going somewhere Else?

Declan doesn’t feel like an adult.

He doesn’t want to be an adult, either.

Even if the world is asking him to be one.

“You’re acting strange,” Logan observes.

Declan shrugs. “I’m always strange.” He takes advantage of shoving fries in his face to avoid expounding.

Logan sighs and puts down his burger. “Declan. Something’s going on.”

Several somethings are going on, actually, but thanks. Declan shrugs again. “Haven’t been getting much sleep.” Which is a true statement. He’s written about ten different ways to tell Logan he’s leaving, nine of which are ripped up in the trash, one of which Declan just burned because he doesn’t want even scraps of that disaster to exist.

Five days to go and Declan still hasn’t told him. Five days. They don’t have many classes together, otherwise Logan would have pieced together the weird treatment from the teachers. Declan wonders if just disappearing into the void is an alright way to go, but a little Patton in his head chastises him for even considering it.

Then again, at this rate…

“Hm,” Logan says. He has a thoughtful look on his face that’s absolutely devastating to Declan’s heart and general health and coherence of thought, let alone considering what’s about to come out of his mouth. “Is there a reason?”

Declan considers, eyes narrowing as he stares at nothing. “I neglect to answer that question.”

“So yes,” Logan says. The words fall from his lips with crushing sorrow. He takes a breath. “Why aren’t you telling me?”

“Telling you what?” Declan says, internally wincing at the hurt flickering through Logan’s eyes.

“Okay,” Logan says instead. He turns back to his food.

They eat the rest of the meal in silence.

Declan watches absentmindedly as Logan attempts to make a tower out of pens and pencils. With the addition of Roman’s copious amounts of colored pens, the tower is quite impressive.

Two days.

(Two Days).

Declan’s all packed. Sorta. Not really. He’s going to skip some classes in the future and pack all at once, throwing everything into the boxes (the empty boxes lining his room), not caring if anything breaks.

He…

He hasn’t told Logan yet.

Or anyone, really, but Logan’s the one that -- the one that matters the most.

Logan did, however, ask him if he was okay three times before leaving him be, because Logan knows that Declan becomes testy if asked the same question consistently.

So basically, as far as Declan can figure, Declan’s a tool. Logan is trying, and Declan is giving him jack shit to work with.

Patton has told all his friends, which means it’s only a matter of time before Logan finds out, right? Patton’s a sophomore, they’re seniors, and the school is large, but it’s also not as big as it seems.

Roman, sitting next to him, hums under his breath as he types. He’s editing his college essay, which Declan would be doing if he had a college essay to edit and also cared enough. The atmosphere is strikingly calm, which leads to an anxious buzzing under Declan’s skin.

Tell him. Just tell him. Just open your mouth and tell him. You’re in a library, he can’t get loud and yell.

Declan wonders if yelling would be better, actually, than wide eyed stares and wounded expressions.

He’s contemplating the merits of writing a letter (absolutely not, he doesn’t know why he’s even considering it) when he spots Patton out of the corner of his eye.

Patton in and of himself does not scare Declan.

The fact that he’s bee-lining for Declan and his friends does make him a bit nervous, though.

“Cici,” Patton hisses. The cutesy play on Declan’s middle name sounds odd in such a harsh tone of voice. He glances at Logan before staring at Declan.

Declan’s starkly aware of Roman and Logan’s attention when he says, “yeah?”

“You told them?” Patton says, and Declan--

Well.

A combination of fear and fury and regret zip through his veins at warp speed.

But Declan’s well trained in the art of deception.

He schools his expression into one of cool indifference. “That I’m taking you for ice cream? Nah. I didn’t think they’d care. You wanna go right now?”

Roman huffs a laugh, turning his attention back to his computer. Logan doesn’t look away, though, hand resting on a bright yellow flair pen.

Patton’s brow furrows. “I mean the--”

“Man, if you were that impatient you could’ve texted me,” Declan interrupts with a long, drawn-out sigh. He stands, swinging his backpack over his shoulders. “I’ll see you guys later.”

“Get me some ice cream next time,” Roman says, grinning. His gaze doesn’t leave his screen. “Bye, loser.”

“Bye,” Logan echoes.

Something registers in Declan’s brain-dead skull that Logan sounds lifeless because his best friend has been distant (Declan. Declan is Logan’s best friend).

Declan pauses, sighs. Patton looks outraged and about two seconds from outing Declan.

“I’m sorry,” Declan says. Logan looks up at him. “It’s not your fault. Just… I’m going through some things. You deserve to know. I shouldn’t shadow you without any info.”

Patton looks even angrier, if possible, but then Logan’s talking and Patton hates interrupting people.

“Okay,” Logan says, soft as ever. “I’ll wait for you.”

And if that doesn’t make Declan feel like the nastiest motherfucker.

“Let’s go,” Declan says, pulling Patton along before Patton lets loose.

He opens his mouth, but Declan beats him to it, whispering, “Shh, we’re in a library.”

“I cannot fucking believe you,” Patton hisses instead.

“Language.”

“You haven’t told them?” Patton exclaims. He yanks his wrist from Declan’s grip but continues following him, arms gesturing wildly. “You’re the worst.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Declan mutters.

“You better get me ice cream now,” Patton says, crossing his arms. “After making me watch that.”

“That’s fair,” Declan concedes, and then realizes he’s going to have to spent the next thirty minutes listening to Patton chastise him and --

Honestly, he deserves it, but he doesn’t want it, but before he can say anything, Patton says, “don’t even think about escaping this.”

So he’s stuck listening to Patton chastise him for the next thirty minutes until their next class starts.

But he gets a turtle sundae out of it, so it’s like, at least 20% a win.

“CICI,” Patton screams from the living room.

Declan shoots to his feet, tripping and slamming his knee into the doorframe, scrambling to reach Patton as swiftly as possible. He appears at the edge of the living room, hand pressed against the wall, chest heaving, eyes blown wide. “What? What is it?”

He assesses Patton for damage, but Patton’s standing with his phone clutched between his fingers, shaking ever so slightly but appearing physically fine. He’s staring at Declan, lip trembling.

“Patton?” Declan says.

Patton opens his mouth, tears dripping down his cheeks. He sniffs, making an angry noise in the back of his throat as he wipes at his face. “I shouldn’t tell you! I should let you suffer because you’re mean.”

“Patton,” Declan says, approaching his brother like one might a wild animal.

Patton shakes his head and Declan stops.

“I’m upset!” Patton says. Then he lets out a laugh, choked. “But I’m so relieved.”

Declan doesn’t say anything.

Patton sniffles a few more times, then peeks at Declan through his fingers. Declan tries for a smile, sheepish. Patton smiles back, watery and soft. His shoulders shake as he laughs softly, his phone pressed against his cheek. “I was so scared.”

“Me too,” Declan says.

“I’m sorry,” Patton says, the anger draining from his face and leaving a wide-eyed pile of nerves. “I didn’t mean it. You’re not mean. You’re just scared.”

“It’s okay,” Declan says. His arms hand limply by his sides. He wants to do something with them, to cross his arms or put them in his hoodie pockets or something, but he also wants to leave them available for when Patton wants a hug, so he stands awkwardly instead. “I forgive you.”

“I’ve been calling Uncle Thomas,” Patton says.

Declan’s heart does something funny in his chest.

Patton pulls his hands away from his face, rubbing his cheeks clean, staring at his phone for a few moments before his hand drops, dangling at his side. “He’s -- he said he’s coming here. His job can be done online and the stuff he can’t do online he’ll fly back for which won’t be often, he said it’s important to him that we -- have a support system throughout highschool, and he wants us to finish here before doing anything else.”

The information barely filters through Declan’s mind because when Patton exhales another sob Declan steps forward and envelops him in his arms on instinct. Patton’s legs go weak. Declan sinks to the ground, Patton pressing his face into Declan’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” Patton mumbles. “I don’t know why I’m crying. This is good. This is good.”

“Sometimes emotions have a funny way of showing,” Declan says. He runs his fingers through Patton’s hair, untangling the curls. “You’ve been stressed. It’s okay.”

“Why aren’t you crying?” Patton says. He taps his palm against Declan’s chest, reminiscent of a smack without any of the power. “It’s not fair.”

Declan laughs, sort of. “I might later. I don’t know. Emotions are weird.”

“You never told your friends you were moving,” Patton says. “Will they ever find out?”

“Probably,” Declan says. He squeezes Patton. “I know you told your friends. It’s better your way. Even if it doesn’t feel like it.”

“Mm.”

Declan can feel the rise and fall of Patton’s chest. It slows as Patton calms down. “We don’t have to move,” Patton murmurs.

“We don’t have to move,” Declan agrees, and Patton presses even closer.

Declan doesn’t know how he finds his way to the beach but at one point he’s baking Patton cookies and the next he’s sitting on a slab of concrete overlooking the pitch dark waves. He knows Patton is sleeping, or is at least pretending to sleep. He vaguely remembers writing a note in case Patton looks for him.

It’s been three days since Patton discovered Uncle Thomas’s moving plans. Discovered? Convinced? Declan isn’t sure.

And he doesn’t really know how to react. He’s been moving on autopilot, making dinner, doing homework, putting in minimal effort into his friendships so they don’t abandon him on the side of the road --

No. Declan shakes his head. Putting minimal effort into his friendships because his friends don’t deserve to be cut off without a word.

Nothing feels right.

(Something is off).

He hears footsteps and before he can whip around, before fear has the chance to truly take over his body, he hears, “this seat taken?”

“No,” Declan says, and Logan sits next to him on the concrete. They’re quiet for a few moments, watching the reflection of the moon, tasting salt on their tongues.

“Will you tell me what’s going on?” Logan says finally.

Declan closes his eyes, breathes. His emotions are all tangled up in his chest and he doesn’t want to tap into it for fear that if he lets out a little he’ll let out everything.

But Logan deserves to know.

(He deserves someone better.)

“My mom lost,” Declan says, which sounds nicer than it did in his head. “She’s unfit to care for us, anyway, but now she’s officially calling prison her new home.”

Logan’s quiet. Declan listens to his breathing. He spies Logan’s hand against the concrete and longs to close the distance and entangle their fingers, just for a modicum of physical comfort. The slightest hint of warmth permeates the air around Logan and Declan wants to lean closer, to press their arms together.

“My Uncle, on my dad’s side, is taking care of us. He… wasn’t originally going to move here, but Patton talked to him and he decided moving here is the best course of action.” Declan shifts. He doesn’t know how to say it. He doesn’t know how to explain.

Logan stops breathing.

“I almost lost you,” he says, and it’s barely a whisper.

Declan glances at him and can barely comprehend the amount of horror shining in Logan’s eyes. Logan’s staring at him, expression open and terrified. “I almost…” He exhales, shaking. Declan watches him so closely he can see the sticking of his chest as he breathes, the tremor of his shoulders.

Declan’s heart stutters and he wants to tear his gaze away but he owes, he owes Logan this. Even though the only thing he wants to do is run away, to preserve himself. “I -- I never told you,” Declan says, more scared than he has been in a long time. He opens his mouth and stops, shrinking away. He looks over Logan’s shoulder, unable to maintain eye contact. “We were supposed to leave two days ago. I was going to tell you and then…”

Then I found out that I’m in love with you, and it freaked me out so much I closed myself off.

Logan’s truly shaking, and Declan doesn’t know what to do. You caused this. This is your fault.

“Ugh! I’m sorry,” Declan exclaims. He can’t stand this, these tentative moments, fragile as glass. He wants to take a hammer to the whole affair. “I’m sorry. I know it’s not much but I was scared, and it’s not a valid excuse, but I was terrified, Logan, I couldn’t leave you! You mean too much to me!”

“You mean a lot to me too,” Logan says, but Declan’s on a roll, now, there’s no stopping the hurricane in his heart.

He moves his gaze to the waves, finding solace and energy in the constancy. “I was going to tell you when we were hanging out a few weeks ago in your room, and then I freaked out because -- and then I left, and haven’t been able to figure out how to word it since, and Patton’s better than I am, he told his friends almost immediately, imagine, having worse emotional competency than a fifteen year old--”

“Roman found out,” Logan says, grinding Declan’s tangent to a halt. “He mentioned something to me but I needed to hear it from you.”

Declan stares at him.

“I asked Patton if you were at home,” Logan explains. Declan can barely tell in the shadows, but Logan’s face seems to darken. “When he said no, I knew there was one other place you would go. Probably.”

Declan worries his lip. He’s that predictable?

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” Logan asks, quiet.

“Because…” Liquid anxiety slogs through his veins. His voice drops, quiet, quieter than the sound of waves. “Because I think I’m in love with you, and I’m terrified.”

For a second all he can hear is the crash of the sea and his heartbeat pounding in his ears. He doesn’t know why the moon isn’t falling from the sky, why the stars haven’t combusted, because his world feels like it’s falling apart at the seams.

“I discovered that,” Declan continues, the words slipping between his lips before his mind has any say in the matter, “and didn’t know what to do, and then I needed to tell you I was leaving, and I love you, and I couldn’t. Because I’m a coward.”

Another beat. Declan takes a long breath. “I still love you. And I’m no longer leaving.”

“I suppose… now would be a bad time to bring up demiromanticism?” Logan tries.

“It would be a terrible time, but thank you,” Declan says, and he can’t help the small puff of laughter that escapes.

“I love you too,” Logan says, then, and Declan can’t breathe.

He turns to Logan without thinking, searching his sapphire blue eyes for deception even though Logan has never, ever lied to him. He can’t hope, he can’t dare to hope, the world would never give him two miracles. “Don’t trick me.”

“I’m in love with you,” Logan clarifies, nervous. His hands are wringing together and he’s biting his lip.

Declan reaches out, fingers trembling, to brush against Logan’s cheek. “You…”

“I’ve been in love with you,” Logan says. He’s looking down, away from Declan’s gaze, but he leans into his touch. “For awhile. I never wanted to bring it up because… you were so adamant about being separate from romance…”

“I thought I was,” Declan says honestly. “Which is why this is a real fucking trip, let me tell you.”

Logan laughs, and some of the tension in the air dissolves. “I can imagine.”

“God, I love you,” Declan says. He brushes his thumb underneath Logan’s eye.

“I love you too,” Logan says, eyes wide and sparkling, then he moves forward and cradles Declan’s head in his hands and Declan short circuits because he’s right there he’s RIGHT THERE and he’s touching him he loves him he loves him--

“You’re gorgeous,” Logan says, and Declan just stares at him dumbly because his mouth stops working. His heart is barely going, the only reason he’s not dead is because his body has some sort of instinctive survival instinct, or something.

Emotion clog his throat and Declan doesn’t know how he’s not sobbing already so he’s unsurprised when the smallest tear slips out of his eye.

“Oh,” Logan says, wiping the tear away. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s -- it’s not -- it’s not you,” Declan chokes out. “God. This is so embarrassing.”

“I don’t care,” Logan says. He leans closer, pressing their foreheads together and staring into Declan’s eyes. “It’s okay to cry.”

Declan smiles thinly, blinking away tears. “I don’t deserve you.”

Logan stares at him, brows furrowing. “What?”

“You’re so beautiful,” Declan says. His trembling hands hold Logan’s jaw. “And you’re so smart and passionate, and you have the most wicked sense of humor, and you’re my best friend.”

“No,” Logan shakes his head. “I mean, I am your best friend, but there’s no deserve in a relationship. We’re just people. People make mistakes. I make mistakes. Please don’t sell yourself short.”

Declan wants to say that only proves how good Logan truly is, but he settles for a simple, “Okay.”

Logan brushes hair out of Declan’s eyes, then sighs, dropping his head to Declan’s shoulder. Declan’s hands slide down to Logan’s upper back.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Declan says.

“I’m glad you’re here too,” Logan replies, muffled. He pulls away for a split second, eyes blurry and a crease already showing from his glasses pressing into his skin. “But if you withhold life-altering information like that from me again there will be issues.”

“I won’t,” Declan says. He swallows. He hates promises. He hates them, because he never feels like he can maintain them. “I’ll… I’ll try my hardest.”

Logan searches his gaze, nods, and then presses fully into Declan.

“Woah, okay.” Declan shifts as Logan clings to him like a koala bear. Logan’s basically in his lap and Declan, well. Declan has no complaints.

“I can do this as much as I want because we’re in love with each other,” Logan mutters, and wow, if that doesn’t send a thousand vibrations across his skin. In love with each other.

Declan grins. He likes the sound of that.

“You know,” Logan says conversationally. His fingers trail up to press against Declan’s face, outlining his lips. “I love it when you smile.”

Declan hums, his smile broadening. Me too, Logan.

Me too.

#im also posting this on ao3 bc this is a MONSTER #loceit #logan sanders #deceit sanders #patton sanders #brotherly moceit #god the dynamics..... so good #roman sanders #virgil sanders #well virgils mentioned hes not actually in it OOPS sorry virge love u #does the ending make sense?? i hope so #deceit: i also love it when i smile thank u logan #<-- incorrect interpretation yet i love it #did someone order some uhhhhh fluff #willowaudreykeyes

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writearctic · 4 years ago

Text

Ghosts to Lovers? (c) (f) - Jung Wooyoung

wc: 1k

"Hyejin! No! I am not going to be third wheeling for you and Mark again!" You pouted at your best friend.

Normally, third wheeling with them would be fine. But, last time, they left you- more like, you wandered away from them- in the middle of the crowded weekend farmers market. You dialed Hyejin and Mark, but neither picked up.

They both apologized repeatedly, but you realized there wasn't a really need for you to go with them anyways. Of course, Hyejin has been your best friend since junior high. She knew you'd feel sad and left out even now that she found someone and you hadn't. Phooey, you thought on multiple occasions, she knows me too well.

"But y/nnnn," she whined. "Please? We're just going to the park this time. And it's dark out now so you won't get lost. Unless you don't stay close to us. Again."

"Yah! It's not my fault I wanted to buy an air plant." It was your entirely fault. Air plants were the only plant you couldn't kill; thus, you definitely needed to purchase one at the farmers market.

"What if Wooyoung came?" Mark chimed from the couch. You knew Wooyoung- he was a friend of Mark's- but you weren't exactly on great terms with him.

Not that you hated him; however, every time you would interact with each other, a thick fog of unknown tension always hung between you. Little did you know, that 'fog' was just unspoken words.

"No," you replied.

"But, y/n. Then you wouldn't really get lost. Not if he was by your side," Hyejin added with a sly wink.

"So my safety is more important than my sanity tonight?"

Yes. Yes, it would appear so.

You, Mark, and Hyejin all stood at the park gate waiting for Wooyoung. He was late to a 'date' that wasn't even his.

"Hey-yy sorry I'm late." Wooyoung ran up to you whilst trying to catch his breath. "The rush hour at work was ridiculous today, and we were understaffed so- wait. Why are you here, y/n?"

Wooyoung pointed a finger at you, and a disgusted smirk crossed his face. Mark clearly left you out of the phone call to Wooyoung.

"You're going to be spending sometime with y/n tonight," replied Mark. He added the jazz hands in an attempt to brighten the mood.

"Why?" He scoffed.

"Gosh, no need to hide your emotions there," you sighed under your breath and began walking down the cement pathway. He clearly doesn't like me, you reminded yourself.

"Go." Hyejin gestured after you, and Wooyoung reluctantly obeyed with his hands shoved deep in his pockets.

You paced around the path mostly taking photos of your surroundings or collecting aesthetic leaves. Wooyoung was on his phone playing Subway Surfers for a while. Until his phone died.

He fiddled with his lip while he watched you in awe. Wooyoung thought for some time about what to talk about; he didn't want this tension anymore.

"Do you believe in ghosts?" He asked innocently.

"Um no." Your quick reply shocked him. So, he stepped closer to you figuring you would have a normal conversation together.

"Why not?"

"Do you?" You turned to face him, but the moment your eyes met his, he looked the other way.

"No."

"Well, then I do believe in them."

"What- why? You can't just change!" Wooyoung's voice raised as he questioned your change in answer. You swiftly pulled his face to yours. He stared you down with his soft eyes. Your petite finger was touching your lips as you hushed him, and your eyes widened in seriousness. Everything about you- right then in there- Wooyoung thought, was perfect.

He slowly nodded, and you stepped away. He broke from his trance and caught up to you.

"If you don't believe in ghosts, then I do. And vice versa." Her voice is sooo lovely and free. It's perfect- she's perfect, Wooyoung admired.

"That doesn't make sense, y/n," he laughed gently at your feeble reply.

"Our friendship doesn't make sense, Woo. Ah- sorry. Wooyoung. Why did I call him Woo?" The last part faded to a whisper, but Wooyoung felt a tug at his heart strings when you called him that.

He cleared his throat and muttered: "Guess tonight is like a double date, huh?"

He let out a breathy laugh once you stopped walking.

"It's not a double date," you sighed. "We're just... third and fourth wheeling." You took a step forward, but you were carefully lunged back.

"Just be my date," he said with an aura of dignity. Wooyoung gently took your hand and wrapped it around his arm. He hummed once he was satisfied and started along the sidewalk.

You were breathless. Nothing could ever compare to this moment- Woo and you. Together. On an evening stroll in the park. The autumn leaves that stirred around you seemed almost too cliche. But to you, it was perfect.

"Woo?" You curiously chirped at him. He directed his gaze to you while you both kept walking. "Do you... like me?"

You hoped he wouldn't notice the red hues on your cheeks, but he did. And oh he adored them.

"Hm. That depends." Wooyoung faced forward again and closed his eyes. Your heart dropped as he replied.

"On what?" Your voice wavered slightly. The crunches of fallen leaves the pair of you crushed seemed too loud at the moment.

"If you disagree with everything I like and don't like-" Wooyoung's gaze was on you again, yet you subconsciously looked down. "I don't know what to say that will make you mine," he softly spoke.

Your head snapped up; Wooyoung had the most genuine smile on his lips. The lamp light from behind him made this feel like a dream. You were speechless.

"Will you be mine, y/n?" Wooyoung asked as he guided a stray curl of your hair behind your ear. He never broke eye contact while doing so, and it made your heart beat so much more.

"Yes." You smiled and instantly wrapped yourself in him. Wooyoung pulled his arms around your body.

After all this time of mixed up emotions, both of you knew it was all built from misunderstood feelings.

#kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop fluff #kpop fic #ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez fluff #ateez wooyoung

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silverypurple-rosedlions · 4 years ago

Text

The Ring | T.P.R

Annual September Mafia Gathering

12.9.20 - 7:00 PM

The Gathering Has Begun

"Jeonghan?"

Jeonghan looked up from his hands, being greeted by a shape he didn't recognize. They towered over him, casting their shadow over him as his eyes strained. But something in him clicked, the urge to protect himself as he whipped out his butterfly knife. He flicked it open, the blade shining as the light reflected off from it as his grip tightened. But someone placed their hand on his, a touch he recognized too well as he relaxes, his vision obscured.

"Hannie, it's Mingyu and me," Jeonghan closed his eyes, recognizing the smooth and comforting voice of his partner, flicking his knife closed.

"I don't think you should be here with us tonight," Mingyu sighed.

Jeonghan shook his head in denial, feeling Joshua draping himself over him. Jeonghan leaned his head against Joshua's gently, feeling secured within his embrace. "Don't speak nonsense, Mingyu. I have to do it tonight, and my condition won't stop me from doing so,"

"Listen to me, Hannie," Jeonghan opened his eyes, shifting his gaze towards Joshua. The two locked eyes and the minute Jeonghan could register that it was Joshua, Jeonghan noticed the look of worry fogging his lover's dark brown orbs and the anxiety hidden behind that fog. "You haven't been able to pull yourself together after you talked to Seungcheol..." Jeonghan sighed, turning his head away from Joshua. "What did he say to you, Hannie?"

"Seungcheol..."

══════◄••❀••►══════

"Everyone's lives are on the table, Jeonghan," Seungcheol said, his head dropping into hands in despair. "We thought we had it under control, and that our plans were perfect, almost impeccable... But we were too desperate and naive, thinking too highly of our plan. We made numerous mistakes because we didn't calculate it and because we didn't prepare ourselves for the unimaginable, and I'm the one to blame."

Jeonghan's chest tightened as he listened, his brows furrowed as his leg bounced vigorously under the table, but never causing it to rock with him.

"We were forced to cut ties with you and your group and to leave you all behind. Not because we had our differences, because even then, we found ground between each other. But if we defied them, then too many were going to be slaughtered like lambs for being "disobedient." Even your own, Jeonghan," Seungcheol explained. "So we left. Others understood, and others misunderstood, believing that it was the time to turn away from people "who were far from grace and were guided by Satan," Seungcheol shook his head.

"Believe me, Jeonghan." Seungcheol looked into Jeonghan's eyes, conflicting the other who was unfamiliar with a man he saw as strong and stern, to now being a pitiful and regretful man before him. "I wanted to send supplies. I wanted to send members one by one to help without being detected, but the stakes were too high. We had already crossed territory we had attempted to avoid for years, and if we pushed farther, then you wouldn't see us today. Not a single one of us,"

Jeonghan leaned back, his expression void of emotion as his mind spiraled. "And so you did it anyway... What you would gain was another day to live, and another, and further on until now. But to do so, you were forced to abandon us..."

With a solemn expression, Seungcheol nodded to The Purple Rose leader, who was contemplating.

"So we continued as usual, but there were times that things were changed, and not by us... No. We had to fulfill what "they" requested unless another disappeared, and another. It was excruciating." Seungcheol sighed heavily, crossing his arms over his chest. "Every day, I had to wait for something, anything, to ensure that it wouldn't contain anything that would hint of a member dying. And sometimes, they did arrive. One disappeared, and then we found them already buried. Another was kidnapped and left for dead after being brutally attacked, and then another,"

"Has anyone else experienced this?" Jeonghan questioned, studying the older's expressions and movement. "Anyone else tugged like puppets by this group?"

"I haven't the slightest clue. We couldn't speak to anyone about this till now," Seungcheol said. "This is the only opportunity we have to converse with each other about this ordeal because of the proposal,"

"So, they still abide by some rules, huh? No one can touch two Bosses and their group if they are to be engaged. What a joke." Jeonghan scoffed, leaning his head back. But when he looked towards the ceiling, a figure greeted him. Their face loomed over his, faint and black. But their smile, her smile, was the most distinguishable. It was mocking, big and white, stretching from ear to ear while her hair was in a messy bun.

"Someone's watching, Jeonghan," She mouthed, her hands moving to his shoulders. "They're listening, Jeonghan. Don't you see it? They're here,"

Jeonghan closed his eyes, lifting his head and looking back to Seungcheol. She was still there too, nothing but a foggy figure that was unable to stay together, their legs like smoke engulfing the floor. While she petted Seungcheol's head, shaking her head, Seungcheol was talking, but his voice was too far, too static. Static. Static.

"You may not trust him, Jeonghan. But you know better. Oh, yes, you do," The woman giggled, draping herself over the other Boss, who took a sip of his drink, brows furrowed. "But who cares if they'll die. They deserve it, don't they? Don't they deserve to feel the pain and abandonment you and your group bear?" She said with a sly voice, but Jeonghan tsked in response. He took his cup and downed the entire glass. The woman scoffed in response, and the static noise became bearable, slowly subsiding as Jeonghan consumed every drop of the drink. So when he looked back at Seungcheol, it was only him. Just him. Just him.

"I don't have any interest in you, Jeonghan," Seungcheol said, finally breaking the remaining whispers of noise, of unbearable static noise. "This proposal has no other meaning but to ensure the safety of my group, and to ensure your groups' safety if they attempt to conduct this again. Just like anyone here, they won't be able to do a single thing to us if we're combined, no matter if they affected one group and not the other."

"That's a brilliant idea, you know?" Jeonghan mocked, his lip curling. "Do you hear yourself, Seungcheol? Relying on this to think it will silence this group? Have you lost your mind within two years?"

"Probably," Seungcheol responded with slight amusement, causing Jeonghan to laugh. "And yet it took you three months to lose yours," Jeonghan could be offended, reaching over the table and grabbing the Boss by the sweater, but he didn't. Instead, he smiled to himself. He smiled a wicked smile.

"Indeed. Three months and I was creating massacres after another," Jeonghan said, relishing the memories of his cruel nature.

"But tell me, Jeonghan," Seungcheol began, becoming stern. "Do you think I'm lying now?"

Jeonghan tilted his head, leaning back in his chair with a faint smile. His eyes narrowed on Seungcheol, taking one last look before his eyes darted to the left, his smile fading.

"Perhaps..." Jeonghan responded calmly, but then a smirk blossomed on his face. "Perhaps not,"

"At least find it in yourself to spare my group. Spare them, and not me. You may do as you like to me, make me go through unbearable pain, make me a fool in front of everyone, or remove me, permanently. Whatever you want from me, you may do, but in exchange, have mercy on my group," Seungcheol said, causing Jeonghan to sigh softly. "That's all I ask. Protection for the thousands of members I lead,"

"Seungcheol-"

══════◄••❀••►══════

"He explained to me everything," Jeonghan finished. Listening as people clanked their glass cups together, laughing and gossiping.

"And it able to justify his actions?" Joshua asked, pulling a chair over and sitting in front of Jeonghan.

"Well... It certainly made me think deeply about it," Jeonghan sighed, running his free hand through his hair before gently tugging his hair with irritation, feeling as if something was crawling inside him, making his insides itch.

"Don't do that, Jeonghan," Joshua said, taking Jeonghan's other hand gently from his hair and holding both in his. "But... Does it change anything? Anything we all agreed on?"

"...In some ways, yes," Jeonghan answered reluctantly, someone letting out a laugh of dismay.

"Is that so?" Jihoon interrupted, causing the three to look towards the Consigliere, his arms crossed over his chest. "Then explain to us what in the world he said-"

But Jihoon didn't finish as the gathering commenced, mafias shuffling to their tables and sitting down. Jihoon glared towards the host, snapping his head back towards Jeonghan, mouthing to him, "You need to explain," before moving towards his assigned seat and sat down. Jeonghan looked towards Mingyu, who shook his head, patting Jeonghan's shoulder and wheeling to his assigned seat. As for Joshua, he sighed, turning his chair and holding Jeonghan's hand under the table.

"You won't explain it to us until afterward, won't you?" Joshua whispered. But before Jeonghan could respond, Joshua shook his head, squeezing his hand. "That's fine."

As usual, the gathering began with a welcome from the numerous staff members of the Worldwide International Mafia Organization, the very people who documented everything and everyone within the mafia community. It was a boring introduction, many of them introducing themselves for new members and groups, going into depth of rules, and so on. The essentials that the groups needed to understand, to be specific. From there, they transitioned into the recognition of new groups and members, welcoming them. Afterward, having them take oaths to their superiors within their groups and accept the rules that all mafias needed to follow. And of course, Jeonghan and various Bosses of each group stood together in their rankings, congratulating the new groups.

Jeonghan was among the first ranks, the first that the groups would see. And it was no surprise that all were hesitant to approach him, some trembling as they took his hand and shook it, giving forced smiles, some shocked when they held his icy, cold hand, immediately jerking away. Others looked towards him as a role model, but when they walked away from him, their legs were weak and appeared like mush as they attempted to continue down the line of Bosses. It was always an amusing sight for Jeonghan, but his thoughts and voices plagued him, making his presence seem as if anyone approaching such a stoic and deranged man like him would die from a deathly plague that he emitted.

Luckily, there weren't that many new groups but various members to greet. But it wasn't long before Jeonghan was seated beside Joshua, wanting nothing more but to be intoxicated with Joshua, embracing him as he slipped into slumber. But that wouldn't happen any time soon as the Organizations' leader lifted the microphone to his lips, addressing the three heads of each group to move to the meeting rooms.

From there, Jeonghan, Joshua, and Jihoon listened to all present and exchanged their updates, their achievements, and so forth. Jeonghan sat through it, listening towards Bosses accusing one another, others cursing and spitting malice, some mocking the other, and those who spoke calmly despite the turmoil within the room. It was long, longer than the previous meeting they had in August before they closed it, moving back into the prior space the rest were residing, waiting.

But before Jeonghan could sit down, massaging his temples as he grumbled in agitation about the nonsense with the groups, the moment they had been waiting for came.

"And before we proceed with the rest of the gathering, we must recognize and congratulate two mafias this year," A plump man said, looking towards Jeonghan and nodding towards him with a bright, toothy grin. Jeonghan breathed in, standing straight as the man continued. "After many years, it appears that these two mafias have finally agreed to become one in unity! Please congratulate The Purple Rose Boss, Yoon Jeonghan, and The Purple Rose Underboss, Hong Joshua Jisoo!" The room filled with cheers and the thunderous sounds of claps, bouncing off the walls and causing Jeonghan's head to pound. But he didn't comment about it, seeing the plump man gesture for Joshua and him to walk onto the platform he stood with the staff.

Jeonghan then turned to Joshua, seeing him look down to his lap. Taking Joshua's hand, Jeonghan gently helped his partner from his seat, giving a reassuring smile towards Joshua, who looked at him with furrowed eyebrows, relaxing. Together, accompanied by Jihoon and Wonwoo, walked towards the platform.

But instead, Jeonghan handed Joshua to Wonwoo, stopping at the steps as whispers of confusion filled the room, the sounds of cheers and congratulations subsided. Wonwoo took Joshua to the side of the platform, patting his back gently while Jeonghan turned his head towards Seungcheol, Jihoon waiting at his side with his eyes narrowed with dissatisfaction.

Jeonghan watched as Seungcheol stood up, followed by his Consigliere, Vernon, fixing his coat as he maneuvered around the tables and walked towards Jeonghan. Suddenly, gasps filled the room, people exclaiming and whispering as Seungcheol stood beside Jeonghan, stepping onto the platform together. Following them was Jihoon and Vernon, refusing to look at each other as the staff exchanged baffled looks with one another. But Jeonghan could hear the mafias whispering, and even those who shouted.

"Since when did the two agree upon this?"

"Disgusting!"

"Did Joshua and Jeonghan break up?"

"When did this happen?!"

"Talk about being greedy for power,"

"Absolutely not!"

"Typical,"

"Is it possible Jeonghan cheated?"

But nothing was done about it despite the angered voices that clashed against those who proposed absurd suggestions, and Jeonghan noticed Joshua beginning to turn red with rage, and if Wonwoo hadn't been there at his side, he'd lose it.

"You mean to say-... Oh my," The man had said, looking flustered and confused.

"FORTUNATELY OR NOT," Jeonghan bellowed, his voice loud and silencing the chaos within the room, startling various groups that shrank, others grumbling, "I haven't given my answer to the proposal,"

Jeonghan turned from the people, facing Seungcheol, who's shoulders were straight and brought back, portraying that familiar sophisticated and dominating appearance that many recognized. But he was nervous, and Jeonghan didn't need to see it in his eyes or have the need to study his body movements.

"Although it isn't an ideal proposal, we have gone through the following agreements if I accept, isn't that right?" Jeonghan said, making sure all heard him as the air became thick with anticipation.

"That's right," Seungcheol responded calmly.

"If I were to accept, our groups will conjoin and share the burden we both carry individually. Both will receive an equal share, protection for all members, and to work together as one. No feelings will be involved, as this is for business reasons. And from then on, no longer will The Purple Rose exist, and no longer will The Silver Lions exist, but one invincible group," Jeonghan said, addressing the agreed terms as the staff rushed to write down these terms. "Not only will both gain this, but Choi Seungcheol will submit himself to my group, unable to refuse what will become of him as his group will continue from then on,"

"So it's revenge that he may be accepting this?"

"He's risking himself? How foolish,"

"Shush!"

"With this accounted, have you both considered this? Are you both willing to accept these terms, and what will become of your group?" The plump man questioned, stepping forward towards the two.

TW: This will contain mentioning of blood and self-harm, but it is nothing severe. But I still warn you in advance in case this may be triggering to anyone reading this.

"I have," Seungcheol answered, keeping his eyes on Jeonghan, who didn't waver. "But I am not the one who has the choice to deny this proposal, or to accept it, establishing this,"

Jeonghan didn't respond, his eyes shifting towards his group that was on the edge of their seats, some nervously biting their nails, others twitching and whispering among each other. When he changed his gaze towards The Silver Lions, he could easily spot the familiar face of a boy he once called his own, looking towards him with desperation. And finally, he looked towards Joshua, who looked back at him with trust.

"I..." Jeonghan began, looking into Seungcheol's eyes.

"Deny," Jeonghan said with a devilish smile on his ghostly face, the room going into an uproar.

Seungcheol's eyes widened, his mouth slightly open, but no words came out. The Silver Lions exclaimed in dismay, some standing up while others held their heads down in their hands. The Purple Rose remained silent, but they were smiling wickedly, relishing the despair The Silver Lions' were under as Jeonghan took the ring off his finger, taking Seungcheol's hand and placing the jewelry on his palm, closing it and patting his hand.

"Whether feelings are involved or not, beneficial gain from one another or not, it will be HELL marrying you. To accept and take your name as mine, following terms and accepting vows, you weren't able to stay true the first time we established it? How silly," Jeonghan growled, standing tall as Seungcheol stumbled backward, clenching the ring in his hand while Vernon took hold of him.

"You-... You're risking my members' lives! Do you understand that?!" Seungcheol exclaimed, looking at Jeonghan in disbelief and distress while the mafia Boss pulled out his butterfly knife, raising his other hand to silence Seungcheol.

"Ah, ah, ah. I didn't finish," Jeonghan flicked his wrist, the weapon opening to reveal the sharp and long blade. Some gasped, others readying themselves for a possible massacre, but instead, Jeonghan calmly brought his knife to his hand, pushing it into his palm and cutting a large cut, blood oozing from the wound, trickling down his wrist. Many looked at him in repulse as he only smiled his devilish smile softly, and he then pointed his weapon towards Seungcheol, his blood dripping from the blade, slowly. "Rather than making the mistake of marrying, let's create a NEW alliance. The same terms applied from before, and the terms now aside from becoming one group,"

And that was enough to cause outbursts of disagreements from his group, even Jihoon and Joshua took a step forward in disbelief.

The mafias within the room were astonished, all conversing with each other about the predicament before them. Not even the staff of the organization could piece together the situation, who were unsure. But Jeonghan was indifferent, turning his knife so that he held the blade, offering it to Seungcheol, who was looking at him with an indescribable expression. Perhaps astonishment and a mixture of rage? Or was he lost?

But Seungcheol took the knife, stuffing the ring into his pocket, and doing the same as Jeonghan after wiping off Jeonghan's blood from the blade. Both of their palms cut, blood dripping as the staff rushed a table over with the following materials for ensuring the alliance and an agreement paper between them.

"This will be the only time you will ever have the chance to redeem your sorry ass, Seungcheol. If you dare, ordered or not, to do the same thing again, then you will be removed permanently. Understood?" Jeonghan said, dropping his blood onto the paper and wrapping his hand with bandages, and Seungcheol followed.

"Of course, Jeonghan,"

With their hand bandaged, their Consiglieres moved forward, conflicted as they took a red cloth from the table, allowing the Bosses to hold each other's bandaged hand, wrapping the silky fabric around their hands before taking a step back, waiting.

And in unison, the two proceeded with the alliance ceremony, the staff creating a half-circle around them, performing the ceremony as everyone went silent, some boiling with anger, others too shocked to process, and those who were unable to differ what they felt. But one thing was for sure. . .

"You better step up your level if you want your strings cut from the group, Seungcheol. I can't be doing all the work here,"

Things were going to become complicated, but interesting.

Admin Moon: I'm not attempting to do the "keep reading" shenanigan again. That was a pain in the ass, so deal with this- 🤧😂

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demonboidies · 5 years ago

Text

𝓼𝓲𝓬𝓴𝓵𝔂 - 𝓯𝓲𝓻𝓼𝓽 𝓭𝓪𝔂

pt.2

word count: 1,660

Namjoon waited impatiently before you told him your response. it was either a yes or a no. and god forbid it be a no. if it were going to be a no, then their whole plan would fall apart. they planned this scheme for as long as they laid eyes on you, and if it were to fall apart now, there would be no way of going back.

"yes!" you said excitedly, seeking a happy response or a smile from the taller male in front of you. and you were granted with it.

"that's great! please, come in and you can meet the rest of us."

thank god he didn't have to take you against your will. he would hate to do that to you. but now he knew for sure you were staying, and by your own will so that made him gushy. you willingly wanted to stay with them. with him.

you stepped into the household, walking to the familiar living room to see 5 males chatting together. they were in a heated conversation, speaking only in whispers to each other. but when they heard Namjoon clear his throat, they all stopped what they were doing and...stared.

"uhm, this is the rest of us." Namjoon said a bit awkwardly, trying to frantically get the guys to stop staring at you. they had been staring longer than 20 seconds, no one saying anything, just staring. and Namjoon could only imagine how uncomfortable you probably were right now.

"ahem! guys, you wanna introduce yourselves to our new...friend." you smiled softly at the word friend, holding your hand out for one of them to shake. there was a bit of delayed reaction, but one of them decided to rush up and shake your hand pretty violently.

"hi! it's a pleasure to meet you! i'm Taehyung, i hope we can become really close! i haven't had a new friend in a while, and besides these guys get boring really quickly. like i've known them my whole life so it's nice to see a new face." as he spoke, his shaking of your limb didn't falter. in fact, his hand only became tighter on your smaller one.

"ah, a pleasure to meet you taehyung. i as well hope we become closer." you said, somehow, pulling your hand away. when you were no longer touching him and stepping forward to greet the others, a pout settled on his lips. he was saddened you had pulled your hand away.

"hello, what is your name?" you said, looking down at a cute man. his face was slim and he looked fairly young. and by the sight of you in front of him, his cheeks were dusted with a heavy pink shade as he shyly outstretched his hand to yours.

"y-yoongi. min yoongi, please to fina-i mean, meet you. pleasure to meet you." you chuckled at his stumbling of words, finding his attitude and behavior adorable. "you can call me yoongi-oppa, or yoongs though...i don't mind."

"oh, okay," you said pulling your hand away after a light shake. "how do you know you're my oppa?"

his eyes met every place that wasn't yours. "lucky guess...i'm older than almost everyone here so i assumed i would be older than you. you do look young, i'm sorry i'm rambling and sound like a creep right now." he fiddled with his right ear, scratching at it, and you internally yelled at how cute his antics were. "i'm 25..."

"i see, i'm 24."

'we know,' the boys thought in unison, although didn't voice their thoughts.

"ah, you're the same age as Hoseok and I. Hoseok is the one with a light tinge of red in his hair." Namjoon pointed at the respected male, who shyly brought his hand out to you. "he's a bit bashful, but really when you get comfortable with him he's much louder."

a chorus of chuckles left everyone's lips, nodding in agreement.

"h-hey y/n, pleasure finally meeting you."

'finally? did Namjoon speak highly of me the other day?' you masked your inner curiosity with a kind smile, shaking his hand firmly.

"he is a bit shy, but so is Jungkook. he's our youngest." a tall, lean male walked up to you. his wide doe eyes looked at you with an emotion you couldn't name, his hand stretching out to you. and you noticed he was shaking a bit

"pleasure meeting you, jungkook."

"pl-pleasure is all m-mine." his cute stutter had you smiling brightly, and his knees buckled a bit at the sight of your smile. he could barely believe he was touching your hand, let alone getting to get such a beautiful expression out of you.

"so you've met, hoseok, jungkook, yoongi, taehyung, and me...leaves jin and jimin." a blonde, chubby cheeked man shot up to his feet, awkwardly waving at you.

"jimin. i'm jimin, nice to meet you." unlike the past two, he wasn't bashful at all. his smile was precious, his eyes turning to little crescents when you shook his hand.

"hello jimin, nice to meet you too," your response made his smile even wider and you could feel the happiness radiating from him. he sure was giddy and friendly, from what you could tell.

"now where is jin-hyung? don't tell me none of you helped him this morning...." silence ensued as you turned to Namjoon with a raised brow. "are you guys serious? and here i thought you were responsible."

"really at this point, you should know that they most definitely aren't."

a honey voice broke out, making you turn around to where the voice came from. there was a young, undeniably handsome man who was grinning at you. "Kim Seokjin, the last and oldest of the 7. pleasure to finally meet you."

with the slight push of a stick attached to his wheeled chair, he was moved over to you and you smiled at his polite and professional tone. "nice to meet you, seokjin."

"ah, jin is fine. no one here calls me seokjin, too formal for my liking," the man said with a hearty laugh. one that comically resembled a windshield wiper, and you couldn't help to laugh yourself.

there was a silence that was among you all until jin opened his mouth to speak, "it's is around lunch time so why don't we eat. first meal with us as official friends, that way we get to know each other more." he shifted to look at you with a charming smile. "unless you prefer to do something else, don't want to pressure you or anything."

"no, a lunch seems fine now. i, unfortunately, had to skip breakfast this morning," you said petting your stomach for effect. some laughed while others stared at you in worry. why would you be skipping meals? thankfully, you hadn't noticed as jin whisked you away into the familiar dining room.

"we will fetch the food, the younger ones can certainly keep you company," Namjoon said, guiding you to your seat.

you took your seat, fixing your outfit with a smile on your face. they were so friendly and nice, it was a relief that they weren't old, bossy, rich men. if they were you wouldn't have been smiling as widely as you were right now.

you took note of how there were 2 brightly smiling males in front of you, as the one who similarized with a bunny was biting his lip and looking to his left.

"so, do you guys attend college or go to school? you three seem to be closest in age and the youngest," you asked to break the ice, all the while presenting a friendly smile. jungkook's head shot up, he still wasn't used to hearing your voice address him. it was like a dream. meanwhile, taehyung and jimin were eager to answer the question.

"i take arts as a major, i juggle between acting and dancing. i like to think i'm good at both." jimin jokingly patted himself on his back, laughing at his own actions making you chuckle softly.

"well, i also take arts, photography to be specfic. i also travel sometimes, for the photos of course. i could show you them sometime? i must say they are quite beautiful" taehyung said with a kind smile, although his eyes lingered with yours at the word 'beautiful.' it made you blush at the thought of him possibly referring to you.

"i mean, if you're interested, i could also show you some clips of my dances and recitals. actually! there was one recently where i got 1st place in the competition." jimin retorted, this time his voice was more boisterous. taehyung and jungkook both saved a hard stare for him. he was obviously showing off, just for you and they weren't gonna let that slide.

fortunately, you hadn't noticed the sudden tension in the room. instead, you were distracted by the sudden opening of the kitchen door. namjoon walked in with refreshments, hoseok with the utensils and napkins, and yoongi and jin both walked in - well jin rolled on in with his chair - with a giant platter of different cooked meats and vegetables.

"that smells delicious! let me!" you said, going in automatic assist mode.

while you helped hoseok hand out the utensils, the youngest 3 were glaring at each other. staring so hard it was like they were holding a conversation in their heads with each other.

"shut up," they mouthed in unison before jin's clearing of his throat was brought to your attention. by this time, everyone was sat down with a plate, water, and needed utensils for future eating.

"y/n, tell us about yourself dear." jin invited with a friendly and welcoming grin. you smiled back, glancing at each male in the room, saving each a thankful grin.

'even if we know everything, keep talking to us. focus on us. your attention all on us.'

#bts #yandere bts #yandere imagines #yandere bts imagines #x reader #yandere x reader #bts x reader #bts imagines #bta ot7 ff #ot7 ff #yandere ot7 #bts ot7 #sickly ff #sickly bts

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ddaddsprompts · 7 years ago

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Your writing gives me so much life. (Especially the chronic pain one! I personally struggle with CMP) They're so great I'm love- ah, when you have the time, how would the dads react to dadsona being a mortician/undertaker? Thank you!

I’m glad you like my little stories so much! That means a lot to me. I myself suffer from Fibromyalgia, so the chronic pain one was dear to my heart.

The prompt fill doesn’t contain any disturbing scenes, but, naturally, there is talk about dead people. The Robert one mentions an instrument I would strongly advise you not to google unless you’re not bothered by stuff like that. So, now that that’s out of the way, please enjoy!

🥃 Telling Robert about yourwork was pretty easy. Thing is, he didn’t believe you. The second time, he didn’tbelieve you either. The third, he congratulated you on your dedication to yourstory and toasted (with non-alcoholic beer) to your funeral home, in a tone ofvoice that made clear he didn’t believe you one bit. So, you decided to showhim. “What, did you pay the workers to act like you’re a co-worker?” You shootRobert an unimpressed look and park in front of the funeral home. “Do youreally think I’d pay that much money for something like that?” He raises hiseyebrow at you. Okay, yes, you probably would. You stick out your tongue andlead him inside. “Now, don’t let anyone know I’m doing this, but I don’t thinkanything else would convince you. You can watch me embalm a body.” For thefirst time since you told him about your job, Robert looks unsure. But he nodsand obediently puts on the gloves and other protective gear you hand him over,and follows you into the room. At the first sight of the dead body, he freezes.“Are there hidden cameras?” You snort and take out your tools. The moment you take out the needle injector and get ready to use it, Robert says“Nope” and leaves the room. You put aside your tools and follow him, a bitworried he would get sick or worse. He’s in the corridor, leaning against thewall and looking a bit green, but he seems to be fine otherwise. He looks up asyou approach and groans. “Okay, I believe you. Jesus Christ, kid, what thefuck.” You take off your gloves and pat his shoulder.

🍸 You stand back as you watch Joseph lead thefinal prayer that would bring the wake to an end. At first, you were surprisedto see him, but now you’re just giddy to approach him afterwards and see hisreaction. So far, all conversation between him and your funeral home had gonethrough one of your staff – he doesn’t know what you do for a living and peoplealways react differently, so you are curious to see. Once the family members ofthe deceased all had left, you push off the wall and walk up towards thecasket, where Joseph is packing up his things. You clear your throat and takesmall delight in his startled jump. He turns. “Crackers, Y/N! Don’t scare melike that. What are you doing here?” You grin and spread your arms. “What, canI not be in my own funeral home?” Joseph does a visible double take. His facegoes through a number of emotions – confusion, wonder, realisation – before settlingon surprise. “I didn’t know you were a funeral director.”“It never came up. I tend to avoid talking about it, most people freak out. Imean, sure, I admit it’s kind of creepy to prepare and deal with corpses on adaily basis, but not that much,” you say with a shrug. Joseph nods and adjusts histab collar. He looks very dashing all in black. “I don’t think it’s weird atall,” he assures you. “I think it is great people are willing to perform thoseservices. Speaking of—“ He wraps an arm around your waist and gestures towardsyour office. “There are some things I want to go through again regarding thefuneral.”

☕ “You know,” Mat says after handing you yourdrink. You’re in the Coffee Spoon; Pablo is manning the till and it is slow, soMat joins you at your table and sits down. “You never told me what you do for aliving.” You hum against your cup and set it down after inhaling the sweet,sweet scent of caffeine. Having a boyfriend who owned a coffee shop is thegreatest thing in the world, next to Long Haul Paranormal Ice Road GhostTruckers. It means free drinks and more banana bread than a single personshould have. “Please don’t freak out,” you say. Immediately, Mat looks worried.You reach across the table and put a hand on his. “It’s nothing bad or illegal.Most people just freak out when I tell them.” You can practically see the cogsand wheels start turning in his head. He always furrows his eyebrows and frownswhen he’s thinking hard, it’s cute. “Are you a plumber?” You snort into yourcoffee and shake your head. “No.” He hums. “Crime scene cleaner?” Again, youshake your head. Mat looks at you, probably trying to picture you in a varietyof weird professions. You decide to take pity on him. “I’m a mortician. I own afuneral home the next town over.” Mat’s eyes widen and his lips form an ‘oh’.For a few moments, he doesn’t say anything. When he does, it’s clear he’ssearching for words. “That’s…” You tap his knuckles and chuckle. “You can saycreepy.” He blushes at being caught out. He turns over his hand so he can takeyours in his and lace your fingers. “It’s pretty creepy, baby.”

🌹 You don’t know why you never told Damien aboutyour job. After your visit to the graveyard where he told you of his views ondeath, you should have stopped worrying about his reaction once he found out,but old habits die hard and so, it’s by accident that he finds out. You weresitting together in his garden, enjoying the sunset, when your phone rang. Someonedied and their body needed to be picked up and taken to the funeral home. Afteryou hang up, you turn to him and try to think of an excuse that doesn’t involvethe phrase ‘dead person’, but it’s late and the words flow off your tongue. “Dames,I haven’t told you about my line of work yet and there’s a reason. Most peopleget freaked out and I was afraid you’d also react like that. But I just got acall and I have to go. I’m a mortician and own a funeral home. Someone died andI need to pick up the body.” Damien is silent, looking at you with the samecalm expression that he has most of the time. It helps you calm down. He’sstill leaned against you, he doesn’t seem grossed out at all. No, there’s aglimmer in his eyes… “Can I come with you?” Your mouth falls open. That’s areaction you didn’t expect, at all. “I won’t get in the way or touch anything Ishouldn’t touch, but I find it fascinating and would like to be witness to yourwork. I wish you had told me sooner about your profession, darling, but I dounderstand.” You stutter out a “Sure, come along” and get on your feet. Hekeeps on surprising you, even after all this time.

🎣 The topic of your profession comes up after thefirst time you visited Brian at work and got introduced to his co-workers. You’rein his kitchen, cooking his latest catch, when he speaks up. “In case youcouldn’t tell, the people at work really like you.”“Normally, I hate meeting new people, but with them it kind of felt like Ialready knew them. Probably because you told me so much about them beforehand.”Brian chuckles. “I also told them a lot about you.” You playfully grumble aboutbragging boyfriends who like to show off with their partners. After a pause,you say “Though I also tell my staff a lot about you, so I guess we’re even”and laugh. Brian grins. “So when I visit you at work, they’ll greet me like anold acquaintance?” You fall silent for a moment and turn down the stove beforeturning to face him. “Yeah, about that…” Your tone makes him frown. He reachesout to wrap an arm around you and searches your face for a reason why your moodchanged so quickly. “You might not want to come visit my work once you hearwhat I do. I’m a funeral director.” Brian’s eyes go wide and he pales visibly.He swallows hard and rubs the back of his head with his free hand, laughingnervously. “Oh. So you… I… that’s kind of creepy, isn’t it?” You shrug; itstopped being weird decades ago. “I still want to see your workplace. Just… nodead bodies anywhere near me, okay?” You let out a breath you hadn’t evenrealised you were holding and lean up to kiss his chin. “I promise. No deadpeople.”

👟 ‘Hey bro, I have to postpone our workout sessionlater today. Just got a call from work. I’ll drop by yours as soon as I’m done.’Craig’s reply comes after a few minutes, more hearts – he stopped writing outemoji some time ago and started actually using them right – than words butreassurances that he didn’t mind none the less. At half past seven you walkover to his house. You don’t get to knock – he’s opening the door before youeven raised your hand and pulls you close against his chest. You smile and wrapyour arms and legs around him as he lifts you and carries you over to thecouch. “Bro, your text got me thinking.” You hum and gesture for him tocontinue while getting comfortable, nuzzling into your very buff and still verynice-to-cuddle boyfriend. “I have no idea what you do for a living.”“You went to college with me, Craig. You were there when I graduated.” Hegently elbows your side. “That doesn’t mean you actually ended up working inthat field! Or maybe you switched professions somewhere down the line. There’sno way I’m just going to presume, bro. So, did it work out?” You kiss his cheekand nod. “I actually own my own funeral home now.” Craig grins down at you. “That’sgreat, bro. I’m happy you got to do something with your degree.”“Unlike you, Mister ‘let’s study whatever sounds the easiest’?” Craig purposelybrushes his finger over that very sensitive spot that never fails to make yousquirm. “Shut up.” You narrow your eyes at him in a challenging glare. “Makeme.”

📖 “So, earlier today Ernest told me somethinginteresting. He claims to have seen you drive a hearse. I’m not sure whether hewas lying or telling the truth, you never know with him, but I thought I’dbreach the topic with you anyway, in case he takes his joke any further. If it’sa joke.” Hugo looks at you over his glasses and puts aside his book. You stealanother piece of cheese off his plate and eat it with a cracker. “Not a joke. I’man undertaker, own my own funeral home. Does that freak you out? I canunderstand if it does. Not everyone’s comfortable knowing someone handles deadbodies.” Hugo pushes up his glasses, giving your question serious thought. “Itdoesn’t freak me out as much as I wonder why anyone would want to do that for aliving. But it’s your choice, so I respect that. I know I would never, everwant to do something like that, but then, you probably feel the same aboutbeing a teacher.” You offer him cheese from your plate in silent appreciationfor what he said. You two settle back against each other, your back to hischest, and he picks up his book again. Comfortable silence descends on you likea soft cotton blanket. “There’s something else you should know,” you say and Hugoraises an eyebrow. “I only had to drive around with the hearse once, today, soI know exactly when he saw me. You might want to ask him what he was doing outof school at ten in the morning.” Hugo curses and sits up. “That little—“

#dream daddy #dream daddy: a dad dating simulator #ddadds #dream daddy imagine #dream daddy a dad dating simulator #death mention tw #Anonymous

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infinite-beginnings · 8 years ago

Note

I'm sending another prompt cuz this ship deserves more LOVE : “You and I were a fascinating narrative, and I’ve always liked to tell stories.”

Thank you, I love you! And you’re quotes are amazing, keep em coming.

Chapter 1: First Grade

The day I met Betty, I knew she was something special. This little girl with blond pigtails and big green eyes, who’s smile lit up the room the second she walked in. I noticed her because she noticed me. She bounced over to where I was sitting and said,

“Hi, I’m Betty Cooper, what’s your name?” I was a shy, awkward child with only one friend. Archie Andrews, a nice boy whom I had known my entire life. But Archie wasn’t in my class that year, so I spent most of the time keeping to myself. I barely knew how to respond to someone talking to me, especially in such a happy way.

“I’m Jughead…Jones, the third.” I finally responded. Betty let out a cute giggle and sat down across from me.

“That’s a funny name. I’m new, my family just moved here. I don’t have any friends, and since you are sitting alone I thought maybe you could use a friend too. Want to be friends?”

Betty asked me that in the blunt way that only a child could. I told her yes, mainly because I was so shocked that I don’t think I could’ve said anything other than what she wanted to here. Betty immediately took me under her wing. She was the new girl, but she fit in better at school then I ever had. Betty forced me out of my comfort zone. She dragged me to school and town events that I normally would’ve avoided like the plague.

Even as a first grader, I was aware that Betty was different from the others. She was both kind and strong. She never let anyone say a bad word about me. She once punched a kid who had tripped me on purpose.

Imagine this. A tiny, pretty, first grade girl punching the biggest, meanest kid in our grade. I can still remember it as if it were yesterday.

Betty and I were walking home after school, minding our own business when a boy named Reggie stuck his foot out and tripped me. I went sprawling, the books in my arms flying everywhere. I heard Reggie and his pals laughing.

“Leave him alone!” A small voice rang out. I looked up to see Betty standing in front of Reggie, her little hands in fists by her side. She was at least a head shorter than Reggie, but she didn’t seem to notice or care.

“What are you going to do about it, new girl?” Reggie teased, sending another wave of laughter through his friends. Before anyone had time to react, Betty had swung her arm and punched Reggie right in the face. He stumbled backwards, holding his cheek and looking at her in shock. Betty simply tossed her ponytail, turned on her heel, and walked over to me. She stuck her hand out and helped me up.

“Let’s go Juggie” She said, taking my hand and pulling me away. I wish I could say that Reggie never bothered me again, but I can’t. What I can say was that he was always careful never to end up on the wrong side of Betty ever again.

“What are you writing Juggie?” Jughead looked up from his laptop in surprise to find none other than Betty sitting across from him.

“Betty? When did you get here?”

“A few minutes ago, you were really absorbed in your writing, it must be something good.”

“I think it will be.” Jughead leaned forward across the table to give her a kiss. “And hi.” He smiled sitting back down.

“Hi, so what are you writing?” She asked again

“A story”

“About…?” She quirked her eyebrows, obviously wondering why he was being so evasive.

“I’ll let you know when its finished.” Jughead answered, knowing that didn’t really satisfy her question. But she simply shrugged and pulled out a book from her backpack.

“Then you better get writing.”

Chapter 2: Archie Andrews

Archie and Betty hit it off immediately when I introduced the two of them. I knew they would, they were both energetic, kind people who always saw the best in everything.

To tell the truth, I was a bit nervous that they would become amazing friends and forget all about me, but that did not happen. Betty and Archie never once made me feel like an outsider, or like I was different from the two of them. Which let’s be honest, I was the odd one out. But with the two of them I never felt like that.

The summer after first grade was one of the best of my life. Archie, Betty and I did everything together. We called ourselves the Three Musketeers. We spent the entire summer roaming through Riverdale, finding secret spots and playing great adventure games.

Betty was the one who started calling us the Three Musketeers. She started it after Archie proposed a pirate game where I was a pirate who had kidnapped Betty and he was the brave captain sent to rescue her. Betty had put her hands on her hips and fixed Archie with a terrifying stare.

“Archie Andrews, I am not a damsel in distress. If you want to play something, how about we play the Three Musketeers, cause I can fight just as well as both of you.”

And so we had played the Three Musketeers and neither of us had ever suggested that Betty play the part of damsel in distress ever again.

Oh, how I wish that summer could’ve lasted forever, but like all good things, it had to come to an end.

Second grade was when thing really began to change. Betty and Archie were in the same class, I unfortunately was left the odd person out.

For a little while, it was like nothing had changed from the summer, but I began to notice small shifts in our friendship. Betty and Archie developed a closer bond because they were spending so much time together. They still included me, but I began to feel more like a third wheel than one of the musketeers.

Then Betty started tutoring Archie.

Then Archie asked Betty to marry him.

Suddenly, everything had changed. I’m not even sure if they realized it, but suddenly it became Archie and Betty…oh and Jughead.

They were young, and experiencing their first major crush, and I don’t blame them for their actions, but it became all about how they felt about each other. This was something that unfortunately continued in the years to come. I watched Archie and Betty do an exasperating dance for years. They pushed down their feelings, too scared it would change their friendship.

I watched Betty fall hard for Archie, who seemed to remain oblivious. I listened to her complain about a new girl he was with. I comforted her when Archie did something to hurt her feelings.

All the while, I waited. I waited for Betty to wake up one day and realize that while she had been crushing on Archie all of these years, I had been crushing on her.

“Jughead” Betty’s voice once again brought him from his writing. He looked up at her and raised his eyebrows, wondering why she had interrupted him. Jughead found Betty looking at him intently. They stared at each other for a few moments before Jughead gave in with a sigh.

“What is it Betty?”

“You were frowning. Quite intensely might I add. Trouble with your writing?”

“More like troubling subject matter.” Jughead replied, avoiding Betty’s eyes.

“Juggie…” He could feel Betty’s gaze on him. He finally looked up.

“Betty, I promise I will tell you, I’ll even let you read it. But you just need to wait until its finished.”

“Not even a hint?” Betty teased.

“It’s a fascinating narrative, just like all of the stories I love to write.” Jughead winked at her

“Juggie! That tells me nothing.”

“I know, and you won’t find out anything unless you let me get back to my writing.”

“Fine” Betty stuck her tongue out at Jughead.

Chapter 3: Changing Times

This pattern continued until the summer before our sophomore year. Everything changed that summer. Betty went away for an internship, Archie didn’t go away physically, but he still became distant.

I found myself alone in Riverdale for the first time since I met Archie.

I poured myself into my novel about Jason Blossom’s disappearance, trying to pretend that I didn’t notice the absence of my friends.

School felt like a foreign country without my Archie and Betty to help me navigate. I was avoiding Archie at all costs, and I hadn’t gotten a chance to see Betty yet. I knew she must have a lot on her mind, with what had happened to her sister. Plus she was usually surrounded by Kevin and the new girl, Veronica Lodge.

I kept waiting to find Betty alone, but it never seemed to work out that way. So, I continued pouring myself into my novel and isolating myself into a booth at Pop’s. That is, until Archie came into Pop’s after a dance, looking for Betty.

That was the night when hope returned.

I found out that Betty had finally confessed her feelings and that Archie had told her that he didn’t feel the same. I hated that Betty was hurting, but another part of me, and not a small part, was glad that she could finally move on.

She had been pining after Archie Andrews for too long. Archie was a great guy and my best friend, but he didn’t love Betty in the way that she deserved.

I am not good at expressing my emotions, but the moment I found out what happened, I wanted to run over to Betty’s and pour out my heart. The only thing that stopped me was knowing that Betty was still grieving over the loss of the idea of her and Archie. I knew I needed to give her time. Time to heal and time to move on.

So I waited. It killed me, but I waited.

Archie and I slowly made up. I was glad to have my friend back, but he and Betty were still awkward around one another so it was not quite like old times. I wasn’t sure if we would ever be able to get back to being the Three Musketeers.

Then, one night, Archie and I were walking into Pop’s for some burgers. Archie stopped dead right inside the door. I turned to follow his gaze and locked eyes with none other than Betty Cooper. She looked so beautiful it was like a punch to the gut.

Both Archie and I waited to see what she was going to do. When she asked us to join her, it was like a weight had been lifted. I gladly agreed, hopping over the booth so I could sit across from Betty. She laughed and wagged her finger at me.

The four of us spent the night laughing and joking. It was almost like old times, just with a plus one. I knew that Archie and Betty were repairing their friendship and I had hope that things would soon be back to normal.

Well, normal between them at least. I wanted things between Betty and myself to be far from normal. I wanted something new. Of course, I was still waiting for a sign from her.

“Jughead!” Betty pratically yelled. Jughead jumped and looked up at her in annoyance.

“Why on earth are you yelling Betts?”

“Because you didn’t respond the first three times I said your name.”

“Oh…” Jughead looked sheepish

“What I wanted to say is that it’s late and my mom imposed a curfew with what has been going on. So, I’ll leave you to your writing and see you tomorrow.” Betty said standing up.

“Wait!” Jughead quickly saved his document and closed his computer, jumping up next to Betty. “Let me walk you home.”

“Don’t be silly Juggie, you’re really into your writing, I can tell. It’s no problem, I’ll see you tomorrow.” She leaned in and kissed him lightly in the mouth and turned away, but Jughead wasn’t about to let that happen. He grabbed her hand and started walking out with her.

“You don’t be silly. It’s not safe out there, what kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t make sure you got home safe and sound?”

“The tortured, moody, writer kind.” She said, nudging her shoulder against his, but she was smiling brightly and Jughead could tell that she was grateful for his company.

Chapter 4: Blue and Gold

When Betty asked me to help out with reviving the school newspaper I pretended to consider it, even though I had known from the moment I stepped in the room what she wanted and that I would say yes.

I would do anything for Betty, especially when she flashed those puppy dog eyes at me.

But, I probably would’ve said yes even if I wasn’t crushing on her. Because Betty and I were both driven by the same thirst for the truth. I wanted truth for my novel, and she wanted it because she needed to figure out what happened to her sister, but our goals were still the same. Uncover the real story, find the liars, and get the truth out to everyone.

Betty and I spent a lot of long hours together in that dusty news room. Most of the time we were absorbed in our own stories, but occasionally we would bounce ideas off of one another. We had many long discussions about what could be happening and how to find the truth.

Betty told me everything she knew about Polly and Jason.

I told her everything I knew about Archie and Ms. Grundy.

As we uncovered more secrets, we grew closer and closer. We were each others confidants. We were the only ones that we were 100 percent sure that we could trust.

I wish it had been under better circumstances. I wish that a boy didn’t have to die, but I am thankful for what it led to.

One night, Betty and I heard pretty shocking information. When she turned to look at me, I saw a complex series of emotions flicker across her face. She asked me if I believed what we had heard. I told her that I did, scanning her face to see if she agreed. Her expressions were closed off, so I was forced to ask her if she believed.

What happened next was something that I had been waiting for. Betty reached up and put her hands on my neck. I could feel her thumb rubbing my cheek gently.

“I believe you Jughead.” Now her expression was open. Her eyes were so vulnerable, so full of trust. I could do nothing but stare at her for a few seconds, barely able to believe what was happening.

Then I kissed her.

It was everything that I had imagined and hoped it would be.

I kept my eyes closed for a few moments after the kiss, half afraid that I would open them up and find that it had all been a dream. But when I finally opened my eyes, I found Betty smiling at me.

Beautiful, sweet, caring, fierce, kind, strong, incredible Betty.

We had kissed and she was smiling at me like I was the most incredible thing she had ever seen. I have to imagine that I was looking at her the same way.

“I’ve wanted to do that since you walked into first grade with those god forsaken pigtails.” I confessed. I wanted to tell her everything, but I didn’t want to overwhelm her. So I settled with telling her about my long standing crush. Betty had giggled and wrapped her arms around me, hugging me tight.

“I’ve wanted to do that since I first walked in and saw you scowling in a corner with that hat of yours askew on your head.” Betty had whispered.

We continued walking after that, but everything was different. Now, our fingers were intertwined and we walked so close together we kept bumping into one another.

Jughead walked up to Betty and kissed her as soon as he entered school. Betty looked up into his smiling face and couldn’t help but smile back.

“What are you so happy about this morning?” She asked.

“I finished what I was writing, or I finished up to present day at least.” Jughead spoke quickly out of excitement.

“Can I read it?”

“Yes, follow me.” Jughead pulled her into the newsroom where they could be alone. He pulled the printed copy of his story out of his bag. “Okay, I’ve been trying to think of a way to tell you all of this for a while now. I almost blabbed it the first time we kissed, and about a hundred times after that. But as you know, I am a lot better at words in the form of writing. So I wrote this, it’s our story Betty. At least what has happened so far. And I plan to fill a lot more pages with our adventures.” Having said his piece, Jughead handed Betty his story.

The Story of Betty Cooper and Jughead Jones

Dedicated to Betty Cooper“You and I were a fascinating narrative, and I’ve always liked to tell stories.”

“Oh Juggie!” Betty exclaimed, running over to hug him. “This is the sweetest, most romantic thing anyone was ever done for me. Thank you.”

“You’ve only read the first page!” Jughead protested with a laugh, wrapping his arms around her tightly.

“And I already love it, now let go of me so I can read the rest”

God I love writing about Bughead! I will write about these two crazy kids until my fingers bleed.

Send me a Bughead prompt and I’ll write a drabble!

#bughead #prompt #riverdale #jughead jones #betty cooper #jughead x betty #ask #dachi-chan25

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