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lakesparkles · 9 months

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Longing (chapter 2 - bjhm fanfiction)

(I don't know how to put titles on mobile, in case it looks weird)

Anyways, I finally finished editing the second chapter of my AU fanfic!

You can read it on google docs or under the cut:

Longing

Diane's routine remains exactly the same, except for the constant presence of Mr. Peanutbutter

—

(I think it would be nice to say, as a warning, that there are a lot of reflections about emotional cheating in the first half of this chapter. But everything will be alright, you’ll understand when you read it ^^’)

"I miss you" the words came out of Mr. Peanutbutter's mouth quickly, as if he would lose courage if he didn't say them in that exact second.

"You saw me, like, last night." Diane shrugged and moved the phone to her other ear, already starting to feel uncomfortable in her own skin.

"I know... Yeah." He laughed to himself, his voice losing its serious tone when he completed. " I need to go back to recording, ehrrrr... now! See you later, Diane!"

Did he really need to say her name like that every time?

"Bye, Mr Peanutbutter."

After disconnecting the call, she continued standing in the same place, trying to regain her concentration.

Texas might be even hotter than California, but even that didn't save it from certain freezing nights. At least it didn't come close to that freezing hell Chicago called winter. It was funny, right? How many places has she once called home?

That thought got her feet moving again, walking down the middle of the street. It had just gotten dark, which meant that was the time her eyes still hadn't gotten used to how bright the shop windows were. Everything got her attention. Her legs shivered in the icy wind, and soon her eyes were caught by the jeans in the store next to her, now being twice as interesting.

The cafeteria next door looked warm and comfortable, the walls painted dark browns and oranges. She was almost dragged inside, only stopping herself because she knew Guy was waiting for her at home - she imagined it well: he would be on the sofa with his feet on the table and the sketchbook in his lap. He would flash his typical smile when he saw her coming, and Diane would quickly remove her boots and coat and slip into her warm pajamas. By the time she was out of the shower, he would’ve prepared two mugs of hot chocolate. The two of them would drink in bed, and Diane would hide again among the fur on his neck, even forgetting the cold.

What was a coffee shop next to that?

She quickened her steps, excited.

When her mind returned to place, she was already facing a window again, almost hypnotized. That was certainly a nice coat... If she was going to buy it, it would be in the future. Now, home! This same thought process happened another 20 times until she reached her destination. As soon as she finished climbing the short staircase leading to her front door, she kicked her boots off her feet. She couldn't wait to stop shivering and be able to breathe without blowing a puff of smoke from her mouth.

Her house was quiet and dark, but none of it was too out of character for it. Guy always used to arrive around that time, staying in the room until he stopped being too lazy to do anything else. So Diane walked with calm steps into the room, not surprised by the sight she found:

Her husband had the sketchbook on his lap, but it nearly fell off his knee. He was far more interested in what he was typing on his cell phone, letting out a small chuckle to himself. Only then did he noticed her presence:

"Diane! Babe, it's too cold today, isn't it?"

She didn't need another word to understand the invitation:

"Very…" She mumbled, lazily crawling under the covers beside him. Changing clothes could wait a little while. The bath too. This was the moment she'd been waiting for all day, already feeling her body heat up completely as she made herself comfortable and started rubbing her cheek against Guy's shoulder.

"Do you have any theories about what the movie Mr Peanutbutter is shooting is? He doesn't want to tell me!" Guy commented, with even better humor than usual.

Oh, sure. Mr Peanutbutter.

Diane curled up a little to answer, yawning and stretching her legs out from under the covers one second, only to curl back up like a cat the next.

She couldn't get away from it, could she?

"He didn't tell me anything about it either," she shrugged, "but I think it's kind of obvious."

"It's a horror movie, isn't it!?"

"For sure! I guess it's even a sequel to some other famous franchise."

Guy took that as the confirmation he needed, perking up and getting back to typing. Out of the corner of her eye, Diane caught a few written words: "The Ring 5?"; "It 3?"; "No, I don't think it's this one"; "But it's horror."

Mr Peanutbutter responded at the exact second: "No more guesses!!!", "They'll kill me if this gets out!! :(".

She should stop being so nosy!

Her stomach lurched when she noticed that Guy was already laughing again.

"You and my ex husband having any intimacy was not in my bingo of bizarre things that would happen to me" she tried to make a joke to lighten the mood… for herself.

"Well, he's here all the time now."

Yeah, she couldn't deny it.

The presence of that yellow dog became a constant another time, and that wasn't something you could prepare for.

During the last few years, she found herself thinking about Mr Peanutbutter from time to time. Usually it happened on nights when she couldn't sleep and lost control of her thoughts. Or when everything went bad again, and her mind found confusing and desperate solutions for any kind of comfort.

She had already accepted that guilt was a feeling that would always accompany her when she was around her ex-husband.

Now the longing mixed and started several other reflections.

Since she'd moved from California, she'd learned what it was like to genuinely miss someone. A faint smile broke out when she saw a rare selfie posted by Princess Carolyn. She perked up every time Todd and Maude made a sudden visit, bringing with them another chaotic day that she was growing increasingly unaccustomed to.

With Mr. Peanutbutter... It was a little different. With him everything always was.

Every time he texted her or dropped by her house to watch another obscure movie with Guy... Diane learned something new about longing. It was like she was living her story with someone for a second time.

She would never forget the time she met the dog. She was walking alone in her apartment, completely silly, while the two chatted on MySpace. He was kind and happy and so different from anyone else she had ever met. Gradually, she began to open up more to him, who always seemed interested in listening and praising her and making her feel good in her own skin. It was an almost addictive feeling, her head feeling light as she felt a small hope inside of her.

Conversations turned to dates, and Diane finally accepted that a celebrity was really interested in someone like her. Someone, in general, was interested in her. Yeah, it was a good thing to think about. When she realized it, she had already moved in with him and lived the ten most bittersweet years of her existence, in which she was relieved that they were over, but which she didn't regret for a second.

Things weren't so different these days, which was why she was worried. Part of her -the most selfish one- almost begged for the shooting of that shitty movie to end so that she would never have to look that labrador in the eyes again. Because she didn't know how to react anymore every time Mr Peanutbutter complimented her new hairstyle or said he missed her.

It was an old feeling. So old it fooled her into thinking it was something new. And that made her nervous.

She let her head fall back onto Guy's shoulder, who was still distracted by his messages, seeming to be having the conversation of his life. What would he do if he knew what she was thinking? She thought it was time to accept a truth about herself, letting all these feelings hurt as much as they should:

It didn't matter if she was talking about Mr Peanutbutter or Guy: she had never been a very good wife...

•∆•

Things were always easier after acceptance. This was the last phase, above all.

Now she opened the door when Mr. Peanutbutter came to visit after the shooting, greeting him with a comment or a joke. He smiled every time, his eyes glued on her and the tip of his tail flicking back and forth. In the background, she could hear Guy saying how he had prepared cookies - "with no chocolate!"

On second thought, maybe she and Guy were bored before that. The adrenaline of a new city had long since worn off, and they didn't have much to worry about outside of work. Guy had been promoted to news anchor, and Diane still had ten months to release the next volume of Ivy Tran. It was almost inevitable how long she took to write, spending most of her days boringly watching TV, walking around or dozing on the couch until her husband got home.

With Mr Peanutbutter there most nights now, she at least had new information to occupy her mind:

"Everything went wrong today, not even if we had recorded a sequel to 2012 by Roland Emmerich it would have been so catastrophic!" The dog commented as he deliberately shook his shoulders, heading to sit on the sofa (feeling as much at home as he could).

Intrigued, Diane followed, going beside him and leaning her arm on the back of the sofa.

"What happened?"

"Someone forgot to blow out the candles we were using and WE LOST HALF OF THE SET!" He explained everything by gesturing with his hands. "This should take a couple of weeks to be redone, we'll even have to delete some scenes from today because of continuity."

He would spend more time there then, wouldn't he?

"Wow, that reminds me of when we recorded Philbert" Diane smiled at the memory. "It was almost impossible to have a quiet day.”

"Speaking of Philbert," Guy joined them at that moment, taking the empty spot on the sofa and offering the pot of cookies for both, "I know nowadays the plot holes are more noticeable and some parts haven't aged well... But I'm still sad that it was canceled... And it's kind of weird knowing that I'm now together with two people who worked on the production, yeah.

"You get used to it pretty soon," Diane shrugged, taking a second bite of her cookie.

"And you know what's going to be even weirder?" Mr Peanutbutter laughed as he completed. "When you watch my new movie and realize you couldn't figure out what it was."

"That's it!? No! I still have time! Did you say candles? Something with exorcism then?"

"Nope!"

Diane rolled her eyes, enjoying her seemingly new routine.

The next day, she had helped Guy make lasagna. At the kitchen table, her husband asked:

"It's not supernatural, right? Maybe a slasher movie?"

"It's kind of supernatural, yes," Mr Peanutbutter replied, still with his mouth full.

"Are you kidding? What more options are left?"

"Think a little more~"

The following week, they'd stayed up until midnight watching a few episodes of Mr Peanutbutter's House and Horsin' Around, just laughing and talking a little about the past. Diane increasingly realized how much lighter it was to talk about such matters now, quite different from when she first moved from California. Guy was starting to pick up on their inside jokes, commenting on how Blarn had been a great idea. Diane accepted the compliment, feeling nostalgic.

That same day, the three put on a random documentary, talking until dawn. Diane only woke up—and realized she had fallen asleep in the first place—at 2:00 am, finding it kind of amusing to realize that Mr. Peanutbutter and Guy were doing the same, in a competition of who was in the most uncomfortable position. Asking the dog to go back to the hotel felt wrong, so Diane just woke Guy up and the two of them silently went to their room.

The next morning, after the mess, they had breakfast together, Mr. Peanutbutter taking one of the spare toothbrushes and changing for work in their bathroom, saying goodbye in that stupidly domestic way.

Diane's more selfish side returned, and she almost hoped something would destroy the other half of the set for whatever movie he was shooting.

•∆•

Taylor Swift's The Way I Loved You was looping in her head, and for a good reason. She couldn't fall asleep, her thoughts starting to bother her again. Then she kept saying to herself, "nostalgia is a lying bitch and you DON'T miss your life with Mr Peanutbutter. The divorce was the biggest proof of love you ever made for each other."

Yes, that was the truth. Yes Yes Yes. Now she just had to accept it.

To make her point even more clear, she forced herself to remember all the bad times they ever had. All the times he didn't listen, that infuriated her and made her feel terrible about herself and for not getting to be the wife he thought she was.

She also couldn't forget how disastrous and selfish they were together, doing what they'd done to Pickles, only to get nowhere with it.

She certainly didn't miss the fights and the thousands of nights they slept without speaking after yelling at each other.

She just thought so because everything was fine now.

She sighed, shifting her position. Unlike her, Guy was in a deep, peaceful sleep, on his back and snoring softly. Carefully, she brought the back of her hand to his cheek, lightly stroking his fur.

She still loved him. Very very very much. In a way as strong and desperate as she was when she first met him. He was kind, funny, and all the company and comfort she needed in her life.

Diane was confused, and admitting anything in her own head scared her.

But she needed to state the obvious.

She was still in love with Mr Peanutbutter, wasn't she?

•∆•

Now the way was to be angry at him, she realized. It must’ve been her brain's way of not blaming herself so much and pretending that she wasn't about to destroy her whole life all over again.

However, it got so... so difficult when he still showed up on her doorstep every time, tail wagging, another colorful coat and a bottle of expensive wine in hand.

"Something tells me that Guy is going to like it there..." She commented, a light smile involuntarily appearing on her lips.

And she was right. The three of them gathered at the kitchen table again. Diane sipped from her glass, the taste taking her years back. Mr Peanutbutter always bought that same wine for them to drink.

"Tastes like wealth," was the conclusion Guy got, and she laughed because it had been the same as hers.

She missed that, didn't she!?

They watched Hereditary. Guy tried to guess Mr Peanutbutter's movie and failed. At night, when the two were in bed, her husband murmured:

"I know that's how dogs are, but he shouldn't stick his head out the car window... It's dangerous."

Diane smiled.

If she had that routine for even one more day, she would freak out.

Fortunately, that was not what fate had prepared for her.

When she got home the next night, Guy was already there, just like usual. He sat on the sofa, however, something was wrong. She could feel it. She entered the room with some caution, trying to notice what gave her such an impression. It was even easy to know. The TV was off this time, leaving the whole environment in an intimidating silence, mixed with how Guy didn't do anything, just sat there.

When she was close enough, he began to speak:

"I've been waiting for you to arrive," his tone was hard to read. It didn't have much emotion, giving her the awful impression that he must've been rehearsing it in his head while she was gone "we need to talk about something."

Her brain stopped working, going to the past. A few years in the past. "It was good while it lasted". BoJack? BoJack had told her that phrase once, hadn't he? For some reason, it was what was repeated over and over in her thoughts.

"Okay..." She murmured, almost whispering, taking her pose as a child who was about to be scolded. She didn't have much choice but to sit next to him, avoiding eye contact for as long as she could.

She thought she was hiding it well, at least. She didn't even let herself believe that, and this was the hope she was moving forward with... apparently, she wasn't even right about that.

Now her anxiety peaked, feeling her fingertips begin to tingle.

She had almost forgotten what that felt like.

What would become of her now? Would she stay in Houston? Would she go back for another round of small, impersonal apartments? Would it go back exactly where it started, half a lifetime ago?

Or would she try to convince Guy that she could ignore it... and forget about it? - something she would genuinely like to do.

"Look, Diane, I don't even know how to talk about this," Guy continued finally, and Diane struggled to make out the words. Just like her, he didn't look in her direction, "It's going to be kind of weird, okay?"

Maybe she couldn't even stay in Houston. She wouldn't know how to handle the situation. Maybe she would have to go back to being Diane and run away to whatever other town that would accept her.

"Okay," she sighed, giving up. "I think I already know what it is."

"You know!?" He looked oddly surprised, almost scared.

Wait.

"What? What... What is it?"

The silence then returned in double. The two stared at each other, their expressions blank and not daring to speak a single word.

Diane ventured:

"Guy?'

He needed yet another few seconds to continue:

"Now I don't have the courage to talk anymore..."

"Don't you dare! What happened, Guy?"

"Nothing!" It was his turn to be defensive. "That's the case, okay? Nothing really happened and I don't mean to suggest that we should break up or anything."

"What are you talking about?"

"You have every right to be angry, but..."

"With you winding up like that, it's really hard not to be!"

"I don't think there's an easy way to say this."

Then another pause, and now that was the last straw. Diane was so nervous that she could barely feel her hands; her body sweated and she saw white:

"G..." But she was soon interrupted.

"I think I'm in love with Mr. Peanutbutter!"

What?

"What!?"

Now it looked like a challenge to who looked the most terrified, both of them looking like wild animals that would run at any sudden movement.

Diane changed position, almost getting up from the couch:

"Did you just tell me... that YOU are in love with Mr Peanutbutter?" Disproving her theory, saying it out loud didn't make it any more real. Quite the opposite.

"I thought I told you that I was bisexual and that..." He stopped mid-sentence. Normally Guy was someone easygoing and calm, traits that fit her perfectly. Guy always had solutions to any problem, making her feel like she was on the ground every time she needed to.

Now, however, it was like he was about to pass out from embarrassment.

"That's not the problem, of course!" Diane shook her head, trying to control all the trillions of feelings and speak more calmly. "With Mr Peanutbutter, my ex-husband?"

"It's as ridiculous as it sounds," he tried to smile, giving up in the next second. "I wanted to tell you because... I don't know why, it felt right. I swear I never got close to doing anything to him.... I thought you could help me - no, not that! We could think of a solution together. Or not. I don't know."

"I'm a pretty bad person for that."

"Huh?"

"Guess who's in love with Mr Peanutbutter, too?"

It was as if a switch had been flipped, the mood in the room completely changing in an instant. The silence had disappeared and given way to the laughter that now came out.

They stayed like that for a long time, laughing. So much that Diane began to suspect the obvious and how it wasn't because they found the situation funny.

After that came, of course, silence. They stared at each other, and Diane thought the last time she felt so uncomfortable around Guy was when he made her jump out the window to hide it from his son:

"And now...?"

"We admit that we are equally terrible and forgive each other...?" Guy ventured, cocking his head to the side.

"Deal!" She would like to put that behind her, for sure. "But... What about him?"

Now Guy shrugged:

"I don't know that."

They were screwed.

Of course they were.

There wasn't even a chance that this story would end well. But that wasn't the only part that concerned Diane. She felt confused, which left her mind almost blank, not knowing what to think or how to react. Almost as if her life didn't belong to her and she was just watching an episode of TV. And, in the midst of it all, she couldn't help but notice how strangely light she felt. She had gotten so used to carrying that weight that she never even imagined what she would do after that.

Without the guilt and longing, who was she now?

•∆•

Now that she could finally accept it, she let herself enjoy the good parts of the present and the past. When they said that time away from someone was sometimes necessary, they were completely right. The Mr Peanutbutter she lived with now still had all the traits that made him him: an oddly charismatic personality; always praising everyone and trying to be positive, for better or for worse; he still looked kind of distracted, as if he didn't hear her, but he ended up proving the opposite every now and then.

However, his only change was not just the whitish hairs on his muzzle that made him even more endearing: just as she noticed when she first saw him in Houston, it was as if Mr. Peanutbutter had finally matured. He never crossed the line or tried to prove himself to her. He was calmer. Nicer.

She's never forgotten that call she'd had with him one day, years ago, in Chicago. When she suggested that their relationship would probably work with them as they were at the time, Mr Peanutbutter replied that they were only the way they were because of the relationship they once had.

How he had changed. They both had, didn't they?

She asked, every time, if she was right that day. If only they could try a second time. Would everything go back to the way it was before, when the anxiety killed her knowing that they would fight again, practically daily? Or was it closer to the beginning of their relationship, where everything had that rare emotion and she started to feel like she belonged somewhere?

When Mr. Peanutbutter was at her house or they went out with him to see the city, she had to stop herself from kissing him, without saying a word. She liked to imagine that he still felt the same way, having all the same questions but choosing to ignore them for the moment.

If only things were that easy... But at least she wasn't alone. And she could tell Guy all this now, so that he would do the same with his own doubts:

"Wasn't it weird?" He questioned, turning his head on the pillow to face her. "Dating someone so famous, I mean. How did you deal with all his fans? Weren't you jealous?"

"In the beginning, I kind of was," these were such distant memories that she wasn't sure anymore "but I was winning, wasn't I? At least he never gave me the impression that he was going to cheat on me, so I stopped worrying one day."

"Wait, wasn't there something that he cheated on his girlfriend a few years ago? That pug girl, huh?"

Diane's complete silence and Guy's increasingly worried expression indicated that he was starting to connect the dots.

"Ehrrrrr promise not to judge me too much? "Diane asked, smiling sheepishly.

"WAS IT WITH YOU!? Oh dear lord, this is why you want to change the channel when she appears, it all makes so much more sense!"

"What did you think that was the reason?"

"That he had left you for her or something."

"Nah, it was after our divorce. But very close to our divorce, which must have been one of the reasons it happened, now that I stopped to think about it..."

"Diane... I think it must be time for you to tell me the whole story, no?"

"Of my ten years of marriage?"

"As much as you want to tell."

They went to sleep only hours later. Diane didn't try to hide the bad parts, figuring Guy deserved to know what he was getting into. She never thought she could be so honest with him. Maybe she really was past the stage of fear that he would abandon her if he found out who she really was. Instead, he laughed at parts of the story, and only lightly judged her when she deserved it. There was no disgust or heartbreak in his gaze, just pure interest. Obviously she didn't come close to telling everything, not even knowing if that would be possible. But at the end of it all, she was able to return to his arms until they fell asleep. Just like every day for the last few years.

Guy was here to stay.

Diane still wasn't quite used to having company at times as confusing and complicated as this one... But it was something she could get used to.

•∆•

As it was Sunday again, they took the opportunity to go out into the city. Even though it wasn't close to snowing, Houston winters were still quite cold at night. This fact always slipped her mind, until she found herself clutching her coat. She walked closer to Guy, who soon got the message and put his arm around her shoulder to warm her up more.

He had the slight impression that Mr. Peanutbutter watched the scene for a second longer than he should have, but at that point, it could just be her imagination.

The dog walked faster again, his attention going from window to window, with the same admiration of a child:

"The buildings remain my favorite part of here!" He commented, his tongue sticking out of his mouth as he turned to them.

"Aren't they going to be part of any scenery in your movie?" Guy questioned. Diane thought that if he didn't talk about it once a day, he would die. "Why haven't they closed any streets for recording yet? Since it needed to be here in Houston?"

Mr Peanutbutter hesitated a few seconds before replying:

"It doesn’t need the street itself."

"I've given up guessing which one it is, okay?"

"Ahhh Guy, come on, just think about the things you..." Then he interrupted himself, his attention being stolen by yet another shop window. Diane couldn't judge him, soon joining him to look at the clothes displayed there.

It was one of those more expensive stores that Diane suddenly had to wean herself off going to. Most of what was on the mannequins were coats and flannel shirts, all with an extra layer of fur, which could only indicate that they were warm.

"I've never seen this jacket in California, I've been wanting to buy it!" Mr Peanutbutter pointed to one in particular: jeans and a medium coppery blue. It didn't look like the clothes he normally wore, but he could easily picture him in it.

Diane had such a terrible moment when she forgot to control herself, the words just coming out of her mouth:

"I'll buy it as a gift for you!"

Guy and he stared at her at the same time, the labrador practically without reaction as he raised his eyebrows:

"You're really lovely for the offer, but I was about to buy it already."

"No!" She was insistent, knowing that now her pride was at stake. "I was wanting to give you a gift anyway," Lie "so you'll have a souvenir when you get back to Los Angeles."

It was almost imperceptible, but his smile faded a little. During that very instant, he looked…disappointed? Maybe sad. That simple demonstration made Diane's heart want to race, everything in her body telling her that she must say something, that this was her chance.

But she obviously continued in the same position, static, letting Mr Peanutbutter mumble:

"Yeah... If you insist, who am I to say no!?"

While Guy was chuckling beside her - he would certainly throw that in her face later, the two had a little personal competition on who would humiliate themselves more in front of the dog - Diane walked into the store with the two of them, only to grab the jacket from the hangers she found and pretend she didn't read the price tag that hung with it. If Guy wanted to murder her after that, it would be just as deserved. She had to thank him for being in such a good mood.

She headed to the cashier to pay, after realizing that Mr. Peanutbutter wasn't even going to try on the outfit - he and Guy had already gotten distracted and gone to another corner of the store, pointing and amused at everything. They were just looking at jeans, what was so funny?

Diane smirked as she watched the two of them, again in that stupidly domestic scene that she wanted more and more of.

Coming back to reality, she turned to the woman at the cashier - an Abert's squirrel, with her fluffy ears and all - who was glaring at her gleefully:

"Is it a gift?"

"Yes, it is," Diane smiled back, soon after choosing a package with a baseball print. She knew he would like that one.

She took out her card to pay, the squirrel cocking her head in her direction again:

"Do you know who Mr Peanutbutter is?"

"Huh?" Diane's brain apparently worked very slowly today. Or she was just very distracted, in her own thoughts. "I do!"

"It's him back there, isn't it?" She looked anxious, surreptitiously pointing to where the dog was.

Already knowing what to expect, Diane glanced around, seeing how he and Guy had already moved into another section of the store, with more colorful clothes. Picking up a purple T-shirt, Guy commented something along the lines of "I already told you that I'm bisexual?", in the most unnatural way possible, making Diane have to control herself not to laugh. Okay, now she would have a point for the conversation they would have before bed.

"Of course it's him!" Diane said to the squirrel. "He's talking to my husband."

"Serious? What? Wait, so are you... You are..."

"Diane Nguyen."

Of course, that poor saleswoman had no idea who she could be. Something she'd learned from the life of being famous enough was that you'd be almost recognizable far more often than totally.

After saying goodbye, she noticed how the squirrel followed her with her eyes while she called the two men with her hand, without having the courage to approach. It was a shame, Mr Peanutbutter enjoyed interacting with his fans.

Once outside, Diane remembered how cold it was, practically being knocked out by the wind. Imagine if she was in Chicago? She would never take it!

She then turned to Mr Peanutbutter, holding out the bag with the package:

"It doesn't have the same excitement as a surprise gift, but here it is!"

He didn't react at first, but the way he tilted his head slightly to the left, the tip of his tongue sticking out between his teeth… Yeah, he liked it. Years ago, in the midst of her despair over her doomed marriage, she read about the 5 love languages. Classic thing that everyone knows nowadays, you know? The conclusion she reached was that Mr. Peanutbutter delivered exactly his own, which he would like to get back.

An extra gift for him would be worth it, wouldn't it?

He held the package in his hands, glancing at the package and enveloping her in a sudden strong hug. He was still so warm, just the right size for her to sink her chin into the yellow fur on his neck. So familiar. So weird.

"Thank you," he said when separating, a little shy. That was new! "I'll get revenge one day for that, huh!"

"Anytime you want!"

Finally, she gave Guy a wide smile: her underhanded way of saying she'd won this time. He nodded and lowered his head, giving her the pleasure of victory.

She felt like a teenager doing that sort of thing, in a way she hadn't genuinely experienced in decades.

It was still good.

They didn't do much more than that before they parted ways. They took Mr. Peanutbutter to his hotel, where they had another rather uncomfortable farewell, where none of the three knew how to react. Just wave? Shake hands? Hug? All options were bad.

"Sooo, see you again on Monday, which means tomorrow!?" The dog opened a big embarrassed smile as he took a few steps back, pointing to both of them with his index fingers. "Oh, I just remembered. Guy, about what you told me inside the store?"

"What...?" The other looked genuinely confused.

"Forget it! It was nothing! I'll be there tomorrow night, I miss you two already!"

And so he was gone, walking into the hotel. He had fled.

Whatever it was, Diane and Guy just stood there, not daring to move.

"Diane... Do you think that us telling him would be the worst thing that could happen?"

"I don't know anymore," she shrugged, releasing all the air she had in her lungs. "I just spent $600.00 dollars on a jacket."

(Finally my knowledge of horror movies has come in handy for something!

After a few months, I finally got the inspiration to finish this chapter! Now there's only one left)

#my writing #does it looks alright?#idk what I'm doing #diane nguyen #mr peanutbutter #guy bjhm #I'm always so nervous about sharing my fics but let's go

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lunerna21 · 1 year

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Book 7 Updates!

WHEN I FUCKING TELL YOU I WAS BRAINSTORMING EVERY SCENARIO OR SOMETHING FOR THE FIRST CHAPTER, I WAS FUCKING TERRIFIED

But like already, THERE'S SO MUCH TO QUESTION, AND WE'VE ONLY JUST STARTED THE NEW BOOK

(Also, another note; Sleeping Beauty has always been so special to me, ESPECIALLY with how much I love Aurora as a child to now, so I cannot wait to see how they do this Book with the storyline!)

First of all, I'm glad the MC is catching onto the villains reappearing in our dreams and matching the statue. But why do we see the original storyline (from the films) when they're regarded as heroes in TW?

AND THEN FUCKING MALLEUS JUST APPEARED SECONDS AFTER RUNNING TO EXAMINE THE STATUE!? I WAS NOT PREPARED TO SEE HIM SO QUICKLY

I'm in no way complaining about it, but just how HEARTBREAKING and DEVASTATING THIS BOOK COULD BE IS FRIGHTENING

So I'm holding my breath the entire time. But then Sebek had a FUCKING ANEURYSM WHEN WE CALLED MALLEUS TSUNOTARO!!

Welp, I felt 10000% better after his reaction

I FUCKING ROARED LIKE A BANSHEE IT WAS SO SATISFYING HONESTLY HAHA

Like Sebek, you're incredibly behind on how long we've been calling him that hehehe~!❤️

I love how Malleus is so earnest to volunteer and speak more about Maleficent to us while also interacting with us whenever we’re around which I FUCKING LOVE, so I hope we get more time with him.

Cause goddamn I could spend every waking moment with him MY FUCKING GOD

.......but then Lilia mentions dropping out?! Like WHAT!? It's suspicious that he's leaving so quickly from NRC, ESPECIALLY considering his close-knit relationship and history with Silver and Malleus.

WE FINALLY GOT ORTHO TO JOIN THE FIRST YEARS GROUP! I LOVE HOW WE'LL SEE HIM MORE OFTEN!! HELL YES!

............But then we get the curveball about possibly being able to go home......

........and then they make it million times harder, with Deuce and Grim get sentimental about how this could be the last moments spent together with you...

AND GRIM WONDERING ABOUT SCHOOL AND UPSET AT THE IDEA OF BEING ALONE WITHOUT YOU!?

.....Like damn, let's mutilate my heart and make me sob like a baby. But DAMN, it's already starting out as an emotional chapter

Malleus is already starting to accumulate blot, Silver and the mysterious necklace, and Sebek is being shown the intense sword Lilia once used...

Like, what are they gonna have in store for us? I'm ready for more backstories about Malleus, but I don't know how much heartbreak I can take

But Malleus waiting outside while brooding over everything, and telling us the story with the shaved ice….and how he’s used to be alone….. WTF IM GETTING STABBED AND BEATEN TO DEATH WITH ANGST

POOR MALLEUS! HE NEEDS AND DESERVES SO MUCH FUCKING LOVE

I love that the MC is heavily influenced in this Book, but I feel horrible about how much Malleus has endured

AND HIS QUESTION TO US-!

……….…………………………my fucking god…………………

When I tell you my gut churned and I couldn’t breathe, I legitimately lost my mind and couldn’t say or think anything…

Like Malleus, what are you going to do??

There’s so many questions that I have, but I’m just overwhelmed and excited to see how things play out.

Even if it involves breaking my heart in the process 💔

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twst #twst event #malleus draconia #deuce spade #ace trappola #twst book 7 #MY FUCKING GOD #LIKE IM SO NOT PREPARED FOR THE ANGST #AND ITS NOT GONNA STOP SO FUCK #lilia vanrouge

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audioaujom · 11 days

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11: To Love

LTWF Hub, <prev, next>

Hi everyone! I’m so sorry about the impromptu 7(?) month hiatus I ended up on, but I promise I’ve sorted everything out now! Part of the reason this fic took so long is that I was working on getting the next fic in the line of AUs ready to drop (link in next chapter) so I could switch out my update slots, but there was also some personal stuff going on behind the scenes. But I am back now! Getting back on schedule may be a little rocky, but here’s the last chapter (seven months and two days late)!! If you’re not here for the romance, feel free to skim the stuff that’s a little more explicit than I promised at the beginning. It just felt right, given the circumstances. If you are, though, enjoy! You’ve waited long enough.

Word Count: 1557

Patton didn’t really feel better, but at least he had stopped crying.

Janus had supported him the entire time he was sobbing, and at some point had moved them both to an empty classroom where they could sit down without being disturbed by the kids going about their day in the hallway.

“Are you feeling better now?” Janus asked softly, Patton’s heart aching. He suppressed another wave of tears, nodding slightly.

“Yeah, I… I think so.”

“That’s good to hear.” Even after moving to sit, Janus hadn't let Patton fully untangle from the hug. They did finally pull apart a little, Janus looking at Patton with hands on both of his shoulders. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Logan… didn't remember me.” Patton played with his hands in his lap, using the weight on his shoulders to ground himself. “It's like all that time we spent… means nothing to him.”

“How strange.” If Patton had looked up, he'd have seen the flash of satisfaction in Janus’ eyes. “He really seemed to care about you before.”

Patton’s bottom lip wobbled, his tears welling back up and spilling out down his face. “How could he just forget?”

“He must have not felt as strongly about you as you did for him.” Janus shrugged, before slowly pulling Patton back into his shoulder for another hug. “Perhaps it was all an act of his programming. To be so friendly.”

“But he—!”

“Shh, I know, dear.” Janus cut Patton off as he began to sob again. “It's awful to find out your feelings were one-sided.”

“I'm sorry, I don't mean to…” Patton sat up and untangled himself, wiping at his face and sniffing in one last desperate attempt to stop crying. Deep down he knew he shouldn't be crying on Janus, not after everything. “It's— this is weird, isn't it? I should just go deal with this on my own, or something.”

“There's no need for that. I know how much you need support.” Janus reached a hand out and caught Patton’s arm as he went to stand, pulling him back down to sit. “You process best with a shoulder to cry on. And I'm delighted to be that for you again.”

Patton nodded. Janus really did know him well. “I just… I can't believe it. I really can't believe it.”

“I know. And I understand.” Janus’ smile was a little too sweet as he inched their faces closer, Patton’s receding tears blurring the former's expression enough for it to look normal. “But don’t you see, love? There's no one else who will care about you like I do.”

In the same instant Janus leaned forward further, the door to the classroom slammed open with nearly enough force to crack the window.

“Patton!”

Standing in the now open doorway, hair wild and panting—for some reason—was Logan, metal fingers splayed against the rattled door and glasses askew. He'd seen Patton and Janus through the window, a strange anger mixing in with his panic as he saw how close they were.

Patton immediately pulled away from Janus and got to his feet, eyes wide and teary. “Logan?”

“What are you doing here?” Janus cut in from where he was seated, crossing his arms.

Logan glared in return, adjusting his glasses and tie and smoothing out some wrinkles in his shirt. “Your reset was not permanent. Virgil was able to restore my consciousness.”

“Reset?” Something clicked in Patton’s mind but before he could think about it he caught up with the rest of Logan’s statement, blurting out, “Wait, you found Virgil?! Is he okay?!”

“He was alright enough to fix me, but you should send Roman to the lab.” Logan’s glare softened at Patton’s worry, the two meeting eyes for only a moment before Logan quickly averted his gaze. “I am… concerned about his current state.” The room lapsed into a moment of silence as Patton shot a text to Roman that he hoped was informative enough, looking back up to see Logan glaring at Janus again. “Am I correct in assuming you had something to do with that?”

Janus huffed. “How dare you assume.”

“...of course you did.” Patton cut in, his sadness swirling into an angry self-loathing as he realized he’d played right into a trap. “You set this whole thing up so I'd throw myself back into your arms.”

“Even if that's true, you did.” Slowly rising to his feet, Janus smirked. “Throw yourself into my arms.”

“I'm sorry, Patton.” Cutting in, Logan carefully closed the distance between him and Patton, raising his hands up and waiting for an affirmative nod from the latter before gently reaching out. “There is no way I'd ever be able to willingly forget you, or all the time we've spent together.” Logan’s hands were unyieldingly cold as they cupped the sides of Patton’s face, but Patton only leaned into it as if it were the warmest touch he'd ever felt. “Not when we still haven't made it to Andromeda.”

“I knew something was wrong…” Tears choked back up into Patton’s throat, his hands wandering to Logan’s waist to pull the taller boy in closer. “I'm sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.” Logan said confidently, letting Patton get as close as he was comfortable. “I… am simply glad that I made it in time.”

Blue eyes stared into hazel until an understanding settled into both pairs, their faces hovering less than an inch from each other. Patton slammed his eyes closed and finally closed the gap before he could talk himself out of it, the chill distracting from how clumsy both of them were in the kiss before they pulled away. Logan’s eyes were wide in clear shock and Patton felt his face go scarlet.

“What a lovely little moment you two are having.”

Both of them jumped as they turned to see Janus staring at them disapprovingly, arms still crossed.

“And here I thought all that crying you'd done into my welcoming shoulder meant something.”

“I only turned to you because you'd taken away everyone else.” Patton pulled himself all the way into Logan’s chest with one hand, feeling the arms around him tighten protectively. “Don't think for a second I'd have done it under any other circumstances.”

“Then perhaps I'll have to—!” Janus’ tone was menacing as he stepped forward, arms out as if to break them apart before he suddenly cut himself off in a full body-spasm, falling over backwards onto the carpet in the same instant one of his hands touched Patton.

Logan glanced down, seeing that Patton had pulled a small taser out of one of his back pockets, clutching the device and trigger tightly in one hand. “Did Virgil give you that?”

“For self defense.” Patton nodded, sheepishly smiling as he put it away. “I've carried it around since high school.”

“Ah. Very nice.” Logan stared down at Janus’s twitching form on the floor, smiling pleasantly. He then turned back to Patton, face troubled. “Should we call campus police? He did… abduct Virgil, among other things.”

Patton blinked. “Oh! Yes, that's a good idea.” He reached for his phone but stopped, instead pulling himself back into a hug that Logan was more than happy to reciprocate. “...in a minute.”

——

Virgil was half-passed out on the floor of the engineering lab when Roman finally arrived, arms full of a first aid kid, various snacks, a water bottle, an extra set of clothes, and a baseball bat, all mixed in with roughly half of his dorm.

Patton’s text of ‘Virgil’s in his lab, okay but not great’ hadn't exactly instilled the brunet with any confidence, bringing everything he could think of before sprinting off for the Engineering Building at top speed.

“Virgil! There you are!” He called loudly as he set all of the things he'd carried onto the nearby desk and fell to his knees, looking over the boy on the floor worriedly.

“Oh, hey.” Virgil greeted casually, relief and anger flooding over Roman at the same time.

“‘Oh, hey’?” He fumed, throwing his arms out wide. “You go missing for nearly 6 full days and come back beat to hell and all you have to say for yourself is ‘Oh, hey’?!”

“Well, the next time Patton’s crazy ex leaves me taped up in the school’s basement so I can't fix Patton's new robot boyfriend, I'll be sure to have a better one liner after I'm not-quite-rescued.” Virgil snarked, wincing as he shifted to get more comfortable on the tile. “Is that what you want to hear?”

“Shut up and come here.” Roman scolded and reached forward for a hug, Virgil’s frown pulling up into a smile as Roman held him tightly. He then let go only to shift his grip to his shoulders, eyes earnest. “Okay. What do you need? What can I do to help? Are you okay? Tell what happened. I'll do anything I can for you.” All of his words rushed out and stumbled over each other, before the rambling cut off into a clear, “Before I go kill that slimy piece of shit, of course.”

“‘Shut up and come here’.” Virgil mocked, grabbing the front collar of Roman’s shirt with a smirk and yanking him in closer. “Patton and Logan are probably having some kind of moment right now, so let's give them some time.”

#fanfic #fanfiction #writing #cross posted on ao3 #sanders sides #patton sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #janus sanders #angst #fluff #logicality #prinxiety #college au #robot au #hurt/comfort

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fallen-in-dreams · 2 months

Text

CHAPTER ELEVEN on AO3.

Chapters on Tumblr: One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten.

Pairing: Gaara/Sakura.

Summary: Her descent into madness came after her friends were all dead and before she was sold off like livestock. To him. He knew a thing or two about madness. And there was peace to be found in the violence of that madness. Even if only for a time. Canon divergence AU.

Rated: Mature.

Chapter word count: 11,885.

Status: Ongoing.

Reminder: the tags/warnings are important.

Warnings: dark themes. Arranged marriage (not what you think). Eventual smut (level and degree of that warning being necessary is subjective). Death. Suicide talk. Self-harm. PTSD – expect some well-known symptoms and some not well-known ones. Please don’t read if you’re triggered by psychological &/or emotional-related trauma and effects.

Hiya. Hope you're all doing well. :) So, I'm back. And this story is almost done. But I won't be updating every week - it'll be more like 1 or 2 weeks. The reason:

Sometimes chapters just want to get longer and longer and we really have no choice in the matter.

Unlike the last time I wrote out a fic in draft form then posted each chapter a week apart as I edited them, this story is trying to drive me crazy. 4k chapters turned into 6-9k and now THIS chapter is 11k. My editing process is squeezing that number count for all it's worth and it became so much of a chore. I really needed that New Year's break. So yeah, I'm going to slow it down a LITTLE bit. So I don't let it annoy me too much.

And I hope each and every one of you will join me for the rest of the ride. I can't wait to see what you guys think about what's coming. Cheers. :)

Enjoy. ^_^

Tumblr version:

… Chapter Eleven: To Kiss or Not to Kiss. ...

.:.

Oh love, believe me, Nothing ever comes to us easy, The river's never run up to meet me, Gotta find your own way down

-- Oh Love, by Phildel

.:.

How am I supposed to face her now?

Gaara stopped trying to figure women out a long time ago.

His argument with Sakura Haruno that morning weighed heavily on him all day. Whenever Gaara found a quiet moment or his mind would wander, images of pure fury and betrayal hounded him. Her pretty face screwed up in indignation and misery. He couldn’t get over the fact that Sakura had truly thought he was wilfully keeping her from her friends. It was just for a few moments but the level of pain that vibrated through her body still scared him.

Hours later.

Like so much about her already does.

So, he stewed in self-doubt all day, moving on autopilot as he went from council meetings to the lonely hours stuck working through tedious mission reports and high-level security reviews. Councillor Tōjūrō wanted this. Councillor Sajō insisted on that. And Councillor Ebizō inquired about their mutual concerns, via the not-so-silent Anbu they both trusted.

Gaara was beyond relieved when the working day ended, and he was able to leave. Most days, he stayed until late, and other times he simply took his work home. It had not escaped his notice that he worked too much. But what else was there? All he had outside of work were his siblings, and they had their own lives to deal with. So, most of the time, he had no-one.

And now her.

“Sakura!” Temari’s voice interrupted his thoughts as she called up to their house guest. “Dinner’s ready!”

Gaara clasped his hands together to hide the trembling of his fingers when Sakura finally descended the internal staircase for dinner. He forced himself to blink heavily to keep his vision from zoning out. Nerves and anticipation like he’d never felt before plagued him. It took all his willpower to keep from groaning in frustration at the strange feelings.

He watched pensively as Sakura sat down delicately. Swallowing heavily.

Sakura Haruno.

Gaara couldn’t keep his eyes to himself.

“Date her, talk to her, and try to figure out how we can help her in the meantime.”

Ideas began to swirl in his mind. Possibilities.

As the culinary genius of the family, Kankuro had cooked another magnificent meal. He was still in the kitchen, putting on the final touches as Temari started talking about how her own day had been. Since her decision to stay in the village she’d taken over the management of the guards and patrols of the village. Gaara didn’t know if she was trying to improve it or just scare them into line. Regardless, she wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon, so he gave her free reign to do (almost) whatever she wanted to them.

Temari stood to help Kankuro lay the food on the table. Sakura was staring at a spot close to the internal staircase, her fingers drumming softly on the table.

“Go get that date organised.”

Planning outings was not his thing. He’d never asked anyone on a date before. Expectation hung in the air.

“Let’s eat!” Kankuro yelled.

Dinner had always been a stiff but amicable affair. Every night, they’d sit around the main dining table to partake in one of Kankuro’s chef-level delights, talk would be minimal because they’d be enjoying the food too much to ruin the moment. But inevitably, someone would say something pointedly, and a casual, intermittent conversation would take place. Before Temari’s return, conversation would be carried by Kankuro’s attempts to make Sakura feel welcomed, strained as they were. Gaara would interject when he felt it necessary, with the occasional input from Sakura when addressed directly.

Since Temari’s return, his sister had not just driven the conversation, but wrenched it sideways and taken complete control of the reins. He wondered if was solely because of Sakura’s presence or a familiarity due to her connections to Temari’s former lover. Which begged the question of how much the pinkette knew about his fate.

Gaara gave a deep sigh that did not go unnoticed by the room at large. It all came down to lovers and friends and family, in the end. They were what truly mattered. Sakura coughed lightly and he glanced at her. Conversation would normally pick up at this point, but the air was unusually tense. He blamed himself.

Gaara hadn’t meant to hurt her by keeping the knowledge of her former allies from her. It hadn’t been vindictive. He just did not know where they were. He had his theories, of course, but nothing solid enough to act on. And this bothered him more than he could admit.

They ate in silence for a few minutes. Or rather, Temari and Kankuro did, though they both paused a few times to glance at each other, like they were planning something. Temari had shifted to the edge of the seat, an eager look on her face. Sakura was pushing her food around on the plate, not eating. Like himself. Gaara had only taken a few bites before realising he wasn’t even hungry. And Kankuro was digging in, with gusto.

When Temari broke the silence, Gaara was grateful. For all of five seconds. Then he conjured a mental image of his hands strangling her.

“So…” She looked between Gaara and Sakura as she spoke. “It turns out one of the council members is a traitor, likely in cahoots with Danzo.”

Gaara glared at her. You did that on purpose.

She shrugged her shoulders with an air of indifference that he didn’t buy for a second. She’d been trying to convince him to let Sakura in on his ultimate plans for the Leaf Resistance, the future of Suna, and this Cold War. His sister wanted too much. He told her so. He’d been telling her so. But now, the decision was out of his hands. Sakura wasn’t going to let this opportunity pass. Kankuro put his cutlery down and leaned back, watching quietly. Amusement and curiosity danced in his eyes. Gaara could almost hear him thinking, well this should be interesting.

Sakura stopped playing with her food and looked up at Temari after side eyeing Gaara. He braced himself.

“How do you know there’s a traitor?”

“Through Lord Ebizō,” Temari said without hesitation. “Apparently, he’s been working with Gaara here.” She pointed her thumb at him as he scowled back at her. “They’ve found–”

“Temari.”

Kankuro made a soft sound the was halfway between a scoffed and snicker. Nobody paid him any mind.

Gaara glared at his sister. “She doesn’t need to know.”

She won’t be able to handle it, went unsaid.

He was aware of the insult to her person, but he couldn’t help himself. Kazekage or not, Sakura was under his care. She wasn’t one of his ninja. She was in no way his subordinate. Or professional equal. And as such, she was not to be privy to sensitive village information. He could not take responsibility for that. It was enough that he’d given Temari and Kankuro the highest security clearance legally possible for them simply because they were family. And the fact that they could handle it was beside the point.

This wasn’t a matter of trust. Sakura just wasn’t like them. Not anymore.

The pinkette scowled at him. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

Gaara sat up straighter. He matched her glare with one of his own. It was to be a battle of the wills, then.

.:.

Sakura did not pull her eyes from Gaara while Temari continued as though she hadn’t been interrupted.

“As you would know, communications between different Kage are always done in code or with a Kage-only sealing jutsu.”

Sakura nodded still staring at the Kazekage. She’d seen Tsunade pen letters to other Kage numerous times in both ways. Shizune had been a pro at transcribing the Hokage’s frustrated and eye-twitching candour to something more diplomatic. Sakura had never quite mastered that skill. Where Shizune excelled, Sakura fell behind. Where Sakura shined, Shizune’s skills were lacking. In that way, they’d complimented each other as Tsunade’s most trusted aides.

“Well,” Kankuro added, breaking his own silence. “Lord Ebizō came to Gaara with copies of transcribed missives that had deletion points in them.”

Sakura nodded again. A deletion point was exactly as it sounded. Information that was sent to Danzo must have been deleted at Suna’s end but not Konoha’s. It was off the record information. The only legitimate reason to delete parts of a message on the official, final copy, was for Kage level reasons. And this was clearly a deletion that Gaara had been unaware of.

What it even meant, she couldn’t say. But there was another problem.

“How…” she started softly, fighting to keep her staring match with the redhead. “How did he find it?”

It was a dangerous thing to do, but also difficult to detect. One might say damn near impossible, considering they shouldn’t have a reason for even looking for it. And whomever discovered the deletion point would have to be exceptionally skilled at Cryptanalysis. At the very least. Had it been Ebizō himself?

Temari answered her unasked question. “A new jounin found it. He wasn’t supposed to be there, apparently. Was just covering a shift for a friend. He’s listed primarily as a sensor ninja but apparently started his prior chunin career as a Cryptanalysis specialist.”

Sakura nodded again, finally understanding. “Lucky.”

“Yes. But unfortunately, he couldn’t tell who made the deletions.”

Of course. Sakura would be surprised if he had. So, this jounin had gone to Ebizō instead of the Kazekage? Maybe because it had been a Kage level security issue, he’d instead gone to the only person whose reputation was both impeccable as well as unquestionable.

“But how does that mean a council member did it?” Was she missing something?

It was Kankuro’s turn to answer. “Nobody in this room but Gaara could do it and we know he didn’t. The next line of suspects are the senior members of the council. Councillors Sajō, Ryūsa, and Tōjūrō are the senior advisors who legally have access to Kage level information. Officially, anyway.”

Because of course the Kazekage reserves the right to not inform them of anything if he doesn’t want to.

“How senior is Ebizō?”

“He leads the council.”

Sakura blinked heavily. So, it could’ve been Ebizō but wasn’t, because he brought it to Gaara’s attention. So, he was the only one they could trust. Almost as though this whole thing was a test that Gaara had set up to suss out the reliability of his subordinates. Except that he couldn’t have predicted this jounin’s inclusion. It would’ve been a piss poor test if nobody found it.

Sakura tapped her chin staring back into Gaara’s seafoam eyes with something akin to calmness. Almost like she was a real person having a legitimate conversation.

Well, look at me, acting like a normal, functioning person. What would my mirror image hallucination think about that?

“Councillors Sajō, Ryūsa, and Tōjūrō.”

She didn’t know anything about Ryūsa beyond some murmuring that he might lead the council one day. Tōjūrō was a complete mystery. But Sajō? Oh, Councillor Sajō she knew. That was a face she’d never forget, the arrogant, pompous, prick. She had fantasies about strangling him with his own intestines on a daily basis. If she could, she would.

Her eyes drifted as Sakura imagined, once again, the choking sounds of the older man as she throttled him. It took a few more seconds and a clearing of Gaara’s throat before she scowled, realising what had just happened. In her distraction, she’d accidentally broke eye contact with him. When she looked back at him, the Kazekage was looking smug.

Shit.

.:.

Gaara couldn’t contain his smirk as Sakura broke their staring contest. Something clunking around in her brain had distracted her.

Good.

“Councillors Sajō, Ryūsa, and Tōjūrō.” Sakura mumbled to herself once more, angling her body away from Gaara and his gaze. He kept watching, his face falling into a frown as she ignored him.

“It has to be Sajō,” she said.

“Why?” Temari asked.

Sakura pulled a face. “I’ve had the unfortunate displeasure of being hounded by him. He’s an arsehole.”

“His personality is not evidence,” Gaara intervened, and she glared at him before turning away again.

Sakura pursed her lips. “I know it’s him.”

“Okay.” His brother was driving Gaara crazy. Temari added to the frustration by echoing his words.

He couldn’t sit here and allow this anymore. “No,” he said.

Sakura clenched her fists, her eyes darting over to the corner of the room; she’d jumped slightly, but there was nothing there to startle her. Sometimes, Gaara wondered about that. Hallucinations.

“This isn’t up for discussion,” he said.

It was a wonder his sanity was still intact, dealing with her. She slammed her fists down on the table, dislodging silverware and making his siblings jump out of their skins, but not so hard as to damage the structural integrity of the furniture.

“You promised,” she said scathingly, glaring openly at him, and he was reminded of their argument that morning. “You said you would tell me–”

“I said that we’ll talk later,” he corrected her.

“About the Leaf Resistance!” She yelled and Temari and Kankuro’s heads whipped towards Gaara. He could feel their confusion and surprise but ignored them. “About what you’re doing! You said we should talk. We need to talk. So, let’s talk damn it!”

“This cipher talk isn’t about the Resistance,” he growled. “Nor is the traitor councillor.”

“Do you know that for sure?” She snapped. “Or are you just presuming? What if it’s all connected, Gaara? What if none of it is a coincidence?” She was on a roll now, taking a deep breath before charging into her new hypothesis with gusto. “Danzo doesn’t want a strong alliance with Suna, and we all know it. I’m not actually here to marry you! What if my mission is part of a larger plan? Sending a Root member with me when those tiny little fucking bastards are not actually trained in diplomacy? You have to admit that’s suspicious! So, what if his connection with this traitor has something to do with the Resistance? Or to undermine Suna because he already has a highly connected ally within your walls! What if it’s all connected? Did you ever stop to think about that?”

Gaara blinked heavily at her. Her deduction was quite the stretch. But crazier things had happened and he couldn’t think of a valid counter point, so he would be remiss to completely rule it out. He sighed. But this wasn’t the place to discuss this.

“I can help,” she said, her voice suddenly soft. He didn’t respond. “He won’t expect anything from me.”

“We don’t even know it’s him,” Gaara said. He was fighting with himself as much as her. He didn’t want to push her out of this, but it was political. And she wasn’t a Suna native. It wouldn’t be treason, but it would be dangerous. For both of them.

Maybe I’m overreacting.

He had no clue. Sakura’s face scrunched up as though she was in pain and her head dipped. She closed her eyes and he imagined she was struggling to calm herself. Was she having a panic attack? Gaara felt a similar spasm grasp his chest at the thought of having done this to her.

I can’t do anything right, with her.

She stood up abruptly, not looking at anyone. Her hands were balled into fists and Gaara’s stomach clenched painfully. Guilt. He felt the urge to say something, anything, to keep her from leaving this room angry. But nothing came to mind. He sat there, with his mouth slightly agape, unable to say the things she needed to hear.

Why?

There was a war in Gaara’s heart. The urge to protect her. The urge to respect her desire to participate. The urge to keep her far from the machinations of the evil of this world. He felt like he was being torn in too many different directions. But he knew that above all, he was being incredibly selfish.

With no regard for her uneaten dinner, Sakura stormed out.

He couldn’t release the groan that threatened to bubble up his throat. Gaara remembered he still had an audience and turned his head minutely to glance at them. Temari was frowning at him, her fingers tapping the table soundlessly. Kankuro was shaking his head, his lips twisted in barely controlled irritation. Gaara let that effervescent groan escape his mouth. He was an arsehole. He knew it. Because his siblings had never looked at him with so much disappointment before. Even when he let a demon out to play havoc on their village as a blood thirsty child.

.:.

When will I ever learn?

She was too emotional. Always had been. Weak. Pathetic. Emotional little girl. Expected too much of others. Presumed too much of herself. Stupid.

Sakura stormed up the internal staircase and slammed her bedroom door closed. She didn’t stop there, grabbing the cactus Matsuri and Yukata had given her (what else did she have?) and throwing it against the wall. Not the back of the door. No, not the chronicle of her timeline in Suna.

Soil spilled onto the floor, but the succulent remained firmly in the pot. The hardy bastard.

She let out a long-winded, slightly high-pitched groan. One minute Gaara was open and treating her like a human being and the next, looking down on her and breaking his promises. She felt so childish, but Sakura didn’t care. She wanted to rage and yell and pound some faces into the ground. She let her anger broil and seethe as she turned and threw herself at the bed. Head in the middle and feet dangling over the edge, she screamed into the blanket for all she was worth.

Which isn’t much, let’s be honest.

It was best to muffle her more violent urges. Noisy. Yes. The last thing she wanted was for someone to hear her screaming and to come running. If they would even. She scoffed. Sakura groaned, then rolled onto her back, grabbed the pillow, and attempted to suffocate herself. It wouldn’t be the first attempt since her arrival at Suna.

Who am I kidding?

She wasn’t trying to do anything to herself.

Sakura gripped the pillow harder, closed her eyes tightly and then screamed again. The muffled sound only made her ears pop. She sighed and sat up wearily. She needed to stop doing this to herself. After so long alone, Sakura had started to think she was a part of something. Maybe something special. Probably just something not toxic. Not dangerous. Kankuro was personable. Temari seemed genuinely happy to see her. But Gaara… fuck, she had to stop wanting more from him.

She shook herself and stood up as the mirage floated into the room, through that blasted window. Sakura’s heart raced and she shivered. Had the temperature dropped suddenly or was she just feeling the aftereffects of her panic attack? She watched as the mirage as it turned on the spot and seemed to only just notice her, glowering now.

“I hate you,” she said with conviction. I really do.

“You brought this on yourself,” it replied.

“Shut up.”

Its smile was cruel. Sakura closed her eyes and sat back down on the bed; hands fisted on her thighs.

“He doesn’t care about you.”

“Go away.”

“You’re useless to him.”

She wanted to cry. A choked sob escaped her before she could stop it. No. She was in control of this. Sakura threw her pillow at the mirage. And of course it sailed right through that smug, broken, and bloodied face. It was happy and angry at the same time. How could something that wasn’t even real hold any emotions at all?

“Are you even trying to escape this stupid hell hole?”

No, apparently Sakura had completely forgotten she wanted out of Suna. How long had it been? She paused in her internal debate to glance at the back of her bedroom door.

Twenty-five days so far.

“Ugh.”

Between wanting in on Gaara’s schemes and her ink creatures, Sakura still had no idea what she was doing. Her creations had scouted the village outskirts and even memorised the guard positions and patrol routes. There was no predictability to times, but the places were all the same. It was something to work with, at least. But it was getting her nowhere.

Twenty-five days and all she’d accomplished was making a fool of herself in front of everyone.

Gaara didn’t want her help. Her creatures had probably escaped this hell hole, leaving her behind. There was nothing to do. Nothing but sit in her room like a good girl and wait out whatever plan Gaara and his siblings had. Once the traitor had been identified and proven they could then tackle the political mess Danzo had Suna entrenched in. And Sakura would be free.

And this time I’ll run.

She’d kill the Root shadow and run. Sakura grasped at her chest, grinning despite the hole in her heart. She didn’t notice the single tear at first. It contained all her hopes for being human again. She wiped at it, not sure what to think of it. But she was spared that particular, repetitive self-flagellation at the abrupt sound of a hiss. She started, spinning around quickly. Her kunai was still in the hole in the windowsill. Conveniently between her and the source of the disturbance.

I really need a better hiding place.

Or multiple kunai dipped in poison. Yes, that would be better. More kunai, more targets. She smiled ruefully at that, her focus snapping to the window. She breathed a sigh of relief when there was no attack but rather the shadows of familiar shapes.

They’re finally back.

The ink creatures. The vulture-like bird and viper shaped snake. They slid into the room through the open window, moving in tandem. Between the two of them they had a death grip on something. Something distinctly snake-shaped and presumably dead. A wide grin spread over her face, and they halted their movements.

“Yes,” she hissed. She inched toward them as the ink bird hopped impatiently, releasing its own grip. When she touched the real snake softly, the ink snake twisted its body, tightening its hold on the carcass. The snake was indeed dead. She sighed, relieved. That would make this much easier. The chemical make-up of venom did not change after the snake died. So, theoretically, she should be able to extract the venom and use it, no problem.

Sakura vividly remembered a description of the milking process from a snake husbandry book during her genin days in Konoha.

Press down on the back of the snake’s head after it bites the container. The fangs will drip out venom for at least fifteen to twenty seconds.

Those instructions had been for a live snake. She cocked her head at the dead one as it was still being half-heartedly strangled by living ink, at her feet. Well, hopefully its deceased status wouldn’t make a difference other than ease of access. Hopefully.

Do I do this now?

Normally, she’d wait for the other occupants of the household to go to bed before doing something she didn’t want to be walked in on doing. Right now, standing, staring, and contemplating her sanity carried a high risk of interruption.

Sakura glanced up at the clock. She’d only been back in the room for almost two minutes. It felt far longer. She sighed, resigned, and shooed her hand at the ink creatures. Trying to corral cats would be easier. They just sat and stared at her. Or rather, the snake remained motionless except for the occasional tightening of its possessive grip and the bird cocked its head at her. Much like she’d done a moment ago. Not that it made a difference if they suddenly started towards the bathroom or something, to keep out of sight. And this whole thing would be far safer if she waited, anyway. She’d already been waiting two days for their return to begin, what was a few more hours?

Still feels like I’ve been pacing impatiently for far longer.

She sat on the edge of her bed and closed her eyes. Her emotions had settled. She felt so drained. But not exhausted. There was an old meditation technique that Lady Tsunade had taught her, and she was just scooting back further onto the bed to try it when Sakura paused, startled by the sudden rush of chakra.

Gaara’s chakra.

Gaara’s knock on her door.

“Is he here to apologise?” She’d forgotten about the mirage. Its singsong, mocking voice floated over to her. “I don’t think so.”

She inhaled deeply, unable to stop the sudden hiccupping sob that sounded from her mouth. All the anger and fear and feelings of resentment and abandonment that had just disappeared, all the tension in her body, suddenly returned with a vengeance. How could one person, so innately collected and calm, invoke such a raging storm inside her? She hated it. And right now, she hated him.

“Stop lying.”

Go away.

He wasn’t going away.

Fuck the mirage. She wanted Gaara to leave her alone. But she also wanted him to persist. To show her she was worth the effort. That he cared. Sakura wiped at her tears and attempted to make her face look presentable. Maybe he would give up. In that case the only person who would see her tears was herself.

He knocked again.

“Sakura?” That deep, soft voice. Gods.

What is he doing to me?

.:.

Moonlight filtered in through her window as Sakura stared at the door. The ink creatures twittered and hissed, respectively, nearby and she wasn’t ready for Gaara to see them.

“Think he’ll actually call you crazy this time?”

Maybe. The mirage grinned at her thought.

“Sakura?”

Right, he was still outside her room. She fought the urge to flee. It had been her default state since arriving in Suna and it was beyond exhausting.

And embarrassing.

She glanced at the snake and bird before slowly opening the door half a foot and holding tightly to the frame to keep him from pushing it open. If he had such a notion. Sakura forced herself to look him in the eye.

The shame. His face was full of it.

“Hi.”

He nodded but before Gaara could respond, Sakura moved forward, placing a trembling hand on his chest, keeping her eyes on his. Pale green irises widened but he didn’t complain. Feeling more confident, Sakura pushed him gently and closed the door behind herself. In the hallway. Alone. Together. Her other hand found its way to his chest and Sakura felt his heart beat a little faster under her fingertips.

“It’s a nice night,” she said, her voice low and strong. Maybe. She had no idea. It just had to be strong enough to project confidence. Conviction she missed about her past herself. She was trying, really. “Let’s go to the roof.”

His eyes searched hers wordlessly, clearly trying to figure out what her plan was. What she was thinking. Why she was thinking it. Maybe even if she was trying to trick him. He’d deserve it, after that display during dinner, but Sakura tried for her most saccharine smile.

Seemingly convinced, he slipped his right arm around her waist and pulled her gently toward him, flush against his body. Sand whipped up around them and she couldn’t stop the light gasp for the life of her. Steeling herself, Sakura gripped harder to him as they disappeared from the hallway outside her bedroom and her centre of gravity shifted and they reappeared on the roof of the Kazekage mansion.

The cold night air hit her first. She shivered but didn’t complain. She expected Gaara to pull away immediately but his hold on her remained firm. Almost like it was his apology. Or he was working up to one. Sakura waited. And glanced around, remembering that the Root shadow would be able to see them from the outside, on the roof, even if he couldn’t hear them.

She could imagine that freak’s reaction if he was watching right now. Sakura remembered, one of the few times the masked man hadn’t berated her on their three-day journey to Suna he’d gone over her expectations on this mission. He’d expected her to lull Gaara into a false sense of security. To take advantage of him. To play the part of a girl being sold off.

Use your assets, he’d said, leering at her. It’s not like you haven’t done this before.

Danzo had not ordered her to sleep with, let alone woo Gaara, specifically. But it was in every look he’d given her before sending her off. It was in between every line in the official papers for this mission. Of course, she’d ignored it. Sakura hadn’t planned to be here this long. But here she was, with Gaara’s arm around her, and all Sakura could think of was that, technically, this was supposed to be a seduction mission. She hadn’t foreseen viewing Gaara as a sexual being. It had snuck up on her, now painfully obvious. Sakura knew it before but a part of her had also denied it, but it was true. There was no going back now. She wanted him.

Desperately.

But she was done hoping he would start anything. Gaara wasn’t like that.

Sakura started as his left arm came around to embrace her. His chin resting on top of her head, and he let out a soft sigh. It made her body tremble in response, and she wondered what he was trying to do if not turn her on. This was out of character for him. As far as she could tell. She inhaled deeply. And he needed to stop smelling so good too.

Because it’s hot as fuck.

She wanted to dominate him. The feeling wasn’t new to her but the chance to be the one in control, was. All she’d ever done is exude a fake version of confidence. Sex was methodical. A tool. To her, at least. And here was Gaara, making her want something else. Something more.

But how am I supposed to get that?

She had no idea how to instigate this. Reluctantly, Sakura released her hold on Gaara and after a few moments of what seemed like internal contemplation, he uncoiled his arms, removing them from her hips gently. Always the gentleman. Never the paramour. She cleared her throat and took a step backwards.

He wouldn’t want me that way, anyway.

She needed to get this under control. This level of intensity wasn’t natural for her. It had to be a side effect of either the prazosin drug she was taking or her anxiety. Post Traumatic Distress Disorder. She wasn’t so stupid as to presume she’d survived the last few years with her sanity intact. And it would explain so much.

“I’m sorry.”

Sakura’s jaw dropped at Gaara’s words. He was sorry. She blinked stupidly at him.

“For everything,” he said.

She nodded slowly, licking her lips absentmindedly. Yes, he’d been an arse. She could accept this. She stared at him for a moment, contemplating how to go about the discussion she wanted to have with him. He kept eye contact, obviously content with waiting for her input. She tried to smile but her lips quivered.

Sakura sighed.

“Councillor Sajō. He came to a few of the wedding planning sessions,” she said, deciding on a change of topic. “He was abrupt but otherwise respectful to the other ladies. But he kept glancing at me.” She shuddered at the memory. “He didn’t like what he saw. And he hates me. I know it’s not a lot to go on,” she added. “I’m sorry I was so pushy and defensive about it.”

“It’s not your fault.”

Sakura didn’t think he had anything to base that on. Sometimes she thought he had a secret file that occasionally leaked information about her to him, in minute amounts; just enough for him to get glimpses into her psyche, but not enough for a deep dive. Enough for his pity to sting her. To burn. And enough for him to think her some kind of helpless victim.

She stood straighter, shoulders pushed back, and chin raised. Sakura had never been good at hiding her feelings, even after the Root commanded that had trained her in the early days of Danzo’s reign got tired of her lack of control. The man had very little patience for emotional outbursts. He could teach her all manner of underhanded jutsu and Root-based tactics but mental conditioning to suppress her emotions? She was never going to master that. Not to his satisfaction, anyway. There was no seal on her tongue. Danzo didn’t stick needles in her eyes and brainwash her. No, he just had his subordinates torture her. Poke her full of holes. Heal her. Fry her. Rinse and repeat. She was fun to play with, apparently. Even more so than some others because an unwilling servant could scream the loudest.

“The council has always been difficult,” Gaara interrupted her thoughts, running a hand through his hair distractedly. He looked past her, as though someone had appeared suddenly, and she had to refrain from turning to look. But there had to be nobody there because his demeanour didn’t change. “They do like to make up their own rules sometimes.”

“I can believe that. Especially after that councillor started having me followed.”

Sakura was adamant that Sajō had. The Root shadow never seemed bothered by it. He’d even laughed a few times when she’d stopped on her way back to the Kazekage’s mansion, sensing the darkening presence behind her. Escorted by Matsuri and Yukata, she was shielded by their presence. Their limited protection. But the moment she strayed again; Sakura knew all bets would be off.

And who knows what Sajō is actually willing to throw down?

Would he have her cornered and interrogated? Would he stoop to physically attacking her? Maybe an attack like that would-be-assassin? He was making sure she stayed in line. After their run-in at the council building, she showed herself to be a loose cannon. And if Sajō was in league with Danzo, then it was likely the Root shadow would help him.

She explained all of this to Gaara, leaving out how her contemplation on how far Sajō would go intrigued her. If the old man gave her a reason to fight back, she would. Gaara frowned, concern marring his features.

“It has to be him,” she said.

“It’s at least a place to start,” he agreed.

Sakura smiled widely at him, warmth spreading over her face. Was she blushing? But hope had burgeoned in her chest, and she didn’t care, either way. His eyes softened as he stared back at her, and she had to push down the sudden urge to throw her arms around him.

“I can help,” she said. It wasn’t meant as a reprimand, but Gaara’s face shifted into stony seriousness.

“I know,” he said, his voice low and ashamed. “I’m sorry I snapped at you. I shouldn’t have done that.”

She nodded. “You know… I can handle myself.”

“I know–”

“I just…”

Sakura glanced around the rooftop, remembering another night when he’d followed her up here and she’d killed a masked assassin. It felt like years had passed since then. Being here for the first time since then brought it all back. The blood on her hands. The rain gently trying, and failing, to wash it away. Her mind spasming in ecstasy at the opportunity to finally get to kill something. When she eventually turned back to Gaara she found him looking around in a similar manner, a faraway, contemplative expression on his face.

Does he think of that night often, too?

“We never talked about that night,” she said, and suddenly had his full attention again. “I killed a man–”

“Who was trying to kill you,” he interrupted, but she kept going, unimpeded.

“–right here. I tore into him. And I know you know I took pleasure in it.” She inhaled deeply, her breath shaky, and ignoring the way he looked pensive. “And I know you know… that I’m not…” She struggled to find the right way to explain how she’d lost the plot without sounding dramatic. But it wouldn’t come. Instead, she tried another angle. “Sometimes it comes in flashes. I’ll be okay one moment and then… I’ll just want to dig my kunai into something. Or even my bare hands. That ache. That desire.” She sighs. “I know you understand.”

Because you used to be out of control too went unsaid.

“And I see things…” She cut herself off quickly, not wanting to go further down that rabbit hole.

Gaara’s eyes had widened slightly at that admission, but he didn’t say anything. She was grateful for that.

Anyway…

“I’m not all there, I know. But I’m not so far gone that–”

“You’re not crazy, Sakura. You’re not worthless or useless or unworthy.” Gaara narrowed his eyes at her. His hands twitched, like he too was fighting the urge for them to embrace. She longed for that warmth again, shifting the weight between her feet nervously.

He stared at her intensely and she swallowed heavily in a vain attempt to stop the flow of tears. They stuck in the corner of her eyes in warning, and she tried so hard to keep them from falling, clenching her fists, digging her nails into her hands. Whatever she needed to do. Sakura nodded her head in agreement even as she refused to accept his sweet words.

But her gratitude towards this man was so strong that she couldn’t restrain the single sob from ripping out of her mouth. Now, she couldn’t stop the light tears now gathering along her eyelashes, threatening to obscure her vision. Sakura hugged herself as Gaara reached out to wipe the tears away. He was so tender and considerate. She felt like she was going to break from his kindness. It was good. But it was also torture.

Even after his outbursts and stubbornness to keep her in the dark, she couldn’t begrudge him forgiveness.

Sakura sniffed and leaned into his touch lightly, even as she was unable to bring herself to look at him. He cupped her cheek for a few moments, just holding his hand still against her before slowly wiping at her eyes again. When he removed his hand completely, it wasn’t done hastily or roughly. She didn’t feel rejected. She felt calmer. More in control.

“Sakura… I…”

What could he say? She didn’t know.

“Let’s go on that date.”

But apparently, he does.

She started, looking up at him in surprise. That came out of nowhere. But to be fair, it was something they’d already talked about. Once she got over the initial shock, Sakura found herself smiling her way through the mild panic at the thought of officially dating him.

“Now?”

He nodded.

“It’s a bit late.”

Gaara smiled wryly. “I don’t sleep much, and you don’t… have to go to the wedding planner tomorrow.”

That was true. It was officially her day off. She’d planned to spend it in the training grounds and also use some of that time to hone her ink crafting skills again. Sakura no longer felt the compulsion to escape Suna, though a deep seeded feeling of unease from merely being in Suna still ate at her. Everything she did now was just to pass the time, out of habit, or necessity. But this… yeah, she wanted to change things up a bit.

“O-okay.” She cleared her throat. “Yes. Let’s… uh,” she blushed, “go on that date.”

Gaara must have been thinking about this more than she realised. He rattled off a few ideas, all of which she could picture being interrupted and annoyed by the ever-present Root shadow in her wake. But several of the ideas sounded like they might just be in a no-go zone for her stalker.

Only one way to find out.

And it was a shame her mirage couldn’t be kept out of things as easily.

Sakura realised, as Gaara tentatively explained how this place and that place were in high security areas and had amazing views of the village, that of course the Shadow wasn’t allowed in all areas of Suna. She could’ve slapped herself for not thinking of it earlier. It was even likely he wasn’t allowed anywhere near Suna’s shinobi academy. All of this must have been covered back when they’d arrived and Baki had run down official rules to them both. She hadn’t been paying attention back then.

So many places I could’ve lost him in. Buried him, more like.

“Something casual,” Gaara was saying, bringing Sakura’s attention back to their impending date. Were they just going somewhere casual? Or was he talking about their relationship? Or maybe what they were going to wear? Well, there wasn’t anything casual about being engaged. It was still a farce, but it no longer felt trivial to her.

Okay, she could do this. She cleared her throat. “Yes, casual.”

Was that a smirk?

“We’ll need somewhere with food,” she added, ignoring the flush that his smirk had invoked along her body. They were both acutely aware neither of them had eaten their dinner. But Sakura didn’t want some homemade food for this. “Or money to buy some.”

“There are a number of acceptable vendors open this time of night.”

“Right.”

“I asked you out,” he said, his face tinging pink. “I will pay any and all fees.”

She wasn’t going to argue with that, since she was flat broke. It wasn’t like Danzo cared to pay her for any of her missions. She inwardly scoffed at the notion. The only things she owned were from before his takeover or what she’d managed to steal over the years. She would have to go through the clothes in the wardrobe in her bedroom. Again. At least there more options to choose from now, since both Matsuri and Yukata had made a point of restocking that threadbare closet.

“And I’ll change into something less... I mean more comfortable.” She spluttered. “I mean something casual.” She bit her lip in embarrassment. They were a pair of tomatoes. “Meet you back here in fifteen?”

Gaara nodded, his smile infectious as she returned it before turning on the spot and leaving him alone on the roof. She hadn’t even thought to ask him to use his sand, perhaps because she was still subconsciously remembering the ink creatures. They needed to be dealt with first, before she went anywhere.

Gaara will wait.

She knew he would.

.:.

The night was alive with the sounds and lights that made up the heart of Suna.

And the hounding footsteps of her eternal stalker. The closer they moved towards the lights and sounds, the further the Root retreated into the shadows. It faded into the background but refused to disappear completely. She would not turn her head to give it the attention it craved.

Instead, Sakura took in the sights and sounds, feeling like a proper tourist for the first time in her life. Gaara took her down a small path that led from the Kazekage mansion to the larger maze of interconnected paths to the thoroughfare of the village. From this narrow road, all other paths diverged. And his chosen path opened up into a lively and festival area.

There was no official looking celebration or staged performance, but the atmosphere had a similar ambience to them both. And the people were in merriment as though there really was a carnival going on. Sakura wondered if this was a new thing, because of the tensions of the Cold War and people just wanting to forget for a time, or if Suna had always occasionally held large-scaled revelries. Civilians behind the walls of any village, hidden and safer than most, couldn’t understand what it was really like out there, surely.

Enough of the doom and gloom.

The Root shadow followed as they moved deeper into the edge of the festivities, where the crowd was thinnest, keeping away from the louder groups. Far away. Some people turned to look at them; they recognised Gaara, despite his casual long styled jinbei, but Sakura’s casual shirt and trousers would not have screamed her identity more than her shocking pink hair. Even drab, it stood out. Fortunately, the crowd was sparse, having died down from the dinner rush, which meant the menu selections were limited but that suited them just fine.

Sakura tried not to notice how many people there really were. Nor the concerned look on Gaara’s face when he clearly noticed her anxiety. A few vendors sat on the outskirts of this rabble and Gaara steered them towards the first of the street food merchants, his hand on the small of her back. Sakura eyed the yakisoba but ultimately decided on yakitori. Gaara chose the same.

“I cannot take your money, Lord Kazekage,” the flustered merchant waved his hands frantically, when Gaara went to pay for it. “A treat for your lady friend. On the house.”

Sakura inhaled deeply, not wanting to speak for fear of setting off her anxiety. There were enough eyes on her. And the Shadow was ever present, even in the background. She took a deep breath and followed Gaara as he led her to an open dining area that was mostly empty. They sat on the tableless chairs and ate, just enjoying the distantly happy atmosphere and their silent company. It was oddly comfortable.

There was a tradition in Suna, or so Gaara had told her on the walk down the paths to this district. He’d learned about it from his brother. Like bar hopping in Konoha, this was called stall hopping – on dates or festival nights, going from one vendor to the next, buying a single, small portion of food, then moving onto the next vendor to repeat the process. It sounded interesting. Having finished their seasoned chicken, they now had their meat. Their animal protein.

The next stall had to be different. That was the tradition.

With Gaara’s arm pressed lightly and confidently against Sakura’s lower back, they continued to the next stall, which specialised in rice and seaweed as their main ingredients. Here, the vendor owner also refused Gaara’s money and ladled their plates with a serving of Onigiri and a shrimp tempura roll and ushered them to some seats nearby.

Sakura supposed it was good for business too, having the Kazekage seen at their stall.

“No, no, Lord Kazekage! I will not have it!” The third vendor followed the example of the previous ones, refusing Gaara’s money as well.

He was flushed at the intensity of their refusals and Sakura had to hide a smile behind her hand.

“Looks like they like you too much,” she whispered.

“Your lady friend will eat for free too.”

Gaara had clearly never actually done anything like this before. The novelty was something to behold. They both ordered a small bowl of miso soup, and this time chose to sit closer to the stall as they consumed their food. Sakura took the opportunity to study him as he delicately sipped at his miso, not bothering with the seaweed within the soup.

His sharp features made her feel nostalgia for the days when a pretty face would have her bumbling over her words or blushing just thinking about some boy’s eyes on her. She closed her eyes as images of Sasuke glaring at her popped into her mind. Her innocent, naïve days were over.

“They like you too,” Gaara whispered softly, and she looked over to see that he’d finished already. He wasn’t looking at her, but she took comfort from the gentle smile on his lips as he looked out over the scant crowd.

Her heart was hammering in her chest, but she tried to ignore it. She’d never been on a date before but had gossiped in her early years of puberty about all the different ways to go about it and how the boy in question would dote on her. However, none of them had involved stall hopping for a street vendor mixed with Kaiseki styled meals for an on the move dinner.

If only we could have done this without a stalker watching our every move.

She pointedly ignored the mostly invisible monster. When they were done, Sakura wanted the next stall to be a dessert one. Gaara pulled a face at the sweets before him, and Sakura laughed at the way he fake-coughed like it would get him out of helping her choose something.

Gaara turned his nose up at the dumplings and imagawayaki that Sakura had pointed out, making her giggle more like she was a real girl on a date this time. He really didn’t like sweets. There was no fried ice-cream, which she assumed he’d like better, but she convinced him to try some savory senbei. He didn’t flinch at the taste, and she grinned at him like she’d won a prize. His skin flushed a light pink, but he said nothing.

This merchant also refused his money and Sakura found herself comforting Gaara’s obvious unease by rubbing her hand along his lower back. The move surprised them both but except for a moment’s hesitation, she didn’t let it stop her from continuing. Until their food came and she focused on the task of consuming her dumplings without choking from embarrassment.

Their final vendor was a tea stand. This owner was just as impressed by the appearance of the Kazekage and finally, Gaara didn’t bother feeling too awkward about their insistence regarding payment. They took their green tea and decided to stroll out of the district, side by side, arms down, hands brushing against each other every now and then. And like naïve teenagers who’d never done anything romantic before, they wore identical looks of shyness and happiness. It was a great feeling. An unfamiliar feeling, for them both.

“I’m proud of you, Gaara.”

He blinked at her. “I should say the same.”

She smiled as they moved away, the food stalls gave way to a larger area. The food here came in restaurant size, but they bypassed it, keeping to the edge. But all good things do come to an end.

Because I’m a freak.

There was a commotion. Not a violent one by the sounds of it, but it seemed that some people were making a fuss in a crowd nearby. Yelling. Whooping. Drunken noises. Sounds that mimicked festivities that had gotten out of hand. The crowd was larger than Sakura was used to, and she hesitated on the threshold. She closed her eyes for a second to control her breathing, taking a small, unconscious step away from it. Her heart was racing again, her palms sweaty. Gaara stood silently and patiently beside her. He touched her arm softly when it was clear she wasn’t going anywhere.

“Are you okay?”

She couldn’t nod or speak, just trying to focus on her breathing. Her ears were ringing but it came and went quickly. Sakura grasped Gaara’s hand that had touched her, startling him. He took the hint and led her away from it. There were more commotions, but not as loud or out of control this time. The people were just having fun. Sakura didn’t know what had drawn their attention as she was not focusing on anything other than moving her feet and how warm Gaara’s hand felt against her skin.

And as they came to the edge of these newer sounds, she didn’t hesitate. “Let’s have a look.”

“Are you sure?”

He clearly was worried she wouldn’t be able to handle it, and he had reason to. She wasn’t exactly exuding confidence. But Sakura wanted to go down there and just check it out, at least. To find out what had drawn the attention of so many if not the usual things attributed to festivities, like games or fireworks. They didn’t have to stay for long. Just long enough to satisfy her curiosity.

Sakura reached out and entwined their hands before she could stop herself out of embarrassment. “I’ll squeeze your hand when I want to leave.”

He nodded, swallowing heavily and gently squeezing her hand in affirmation.

Okay, then.

Sakura took a deep breath. I can do this.

She’d already endured the inquisitive stares of the scattered people at the street stalls; this was just another step in the right direction. And if she could do all that under the eye of the Root, then she could do anything. It was just another challenge to overcome. And she so desperately wanted to overcome it.

They were recognised of course, and more than one set of eyes drifted to their entwined hands. Her skin felt clammy all of a sudden and a light squeeze from Gaara both set her heart aflutter and calmed her nerves. They only stayed for a few minutes. The lights were bright and the people, laughing and swaying, were loud and friendly. But she’d finally had enough.

Masks.

It was a mask gathering, themed not unlike the Matsuri festival back in Konoha. Not everyone was wearing a mask but there were small groups of impromptu dancers and some scattered musicians. They had the appearance of entertainers who had just come off some kind of travelling troupe but didn’t look out of place. Not like her. Sakura felt underdressed all of a sudden but pushed that anxiety down.

She gently squeezed Gaara’s hand, and he immediately steered them to a path that would lead away from the festivities. Like the interconnected paths she imagined it also led to the thoroughfare. But they didn’t get a chance to use it. There was a cry of something that sounded like frustration and excitement to her right and Sakura stiffened as a clearly very drunk civilian came stumbling as quickly as he could towards them. He made flailing motions with his arms, his face twisted in a grin and nonsensical words on his slurred and unintelligible tongue.

Ugly, rotten teeth. Polished and dangerous.

That peel of laughter wasn’t coming from the drunkard. It was seeping out of the shadows.

Sakura reeled, almost falling over. Gaara held her and she gripped his hand so hard she would’ve broken his sand armour if he’d bothered to wear it. The lights and sounds of the festivities brightened and blinded her. Hazy and screaming. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t ask Gaara for help. She couldn’t do a damn thing.

But true to his promise, Gaara was pulling her to him, flush against his chest. Sand whipped up around them, scaring off the drunkard. Sakura closed her eyes as the Kazekage teleported them away. When her feet hit the ground, she let her head fall forward onto Gaara’s chest. She felt the warmth of his hand on her back as he attempted to soothe her. Face pressed against his chest. Ascending numbers flashing through her mind’s eye. Breathing. Leaning into his embrace. Her body sagged. But she was calming down.

The Shadow is gone.

Sakura lost count of those ascending numbers, not knowing how long it really took for her to come back to herself. But she did. And Gaara moved with her as she pulled away, peering at her. Assessing her. Like he cared. She was learning to love those pale green eyes of his.

Fuck it. Why are you so good to me?

“Why…”

Gaara hushed her as she lost that train of thought. She looked around, realising she did not recognise the area he’d teleported them to. Sakura’s head swivelled around several times as she tried to take in the view. They were in what looked like a forest sanctuary. Or rather the kind of forest that Suna could provide with limited resources. The colour green was everywhere. Gardens. Stone pathways. And a dome nearby that screamed, “there’s a greenhouse inside me!”.

“Where are we?”

“The west gardens,” Gaara said. “This area is out of bounds. Only select individuals are allowed here, and only with my permission.”

More places the Shadow can’t reach.

She felt special. And she loved the place on sight. The foreboding pressure had released, and Sakura suddenly felt lighter than air. “Okay, give me a tour,” she said, not having to force her face to smile.

Gaara nodded, gently taking her hand once more. She soaked it all in as they walked along the path and he explained what she was seeing, in that simple but intelligent way of his. On paper, his words would sound clipped, but they came out so serene and husky that Sakura found herself hypnotised by them.

His voice.

She sighed. They found a bench and she let go of his hand before lowering herself onto it. She felt very nervous as Gaara sat beside her. Inches apart. She couldn’t decide which was worse: the way her libido occasionally went into overdrive around him or her current uncomfortable feeling like she was some virginal teenager who didn’t know how to behave in her own skin.

A shock of light and sound. Sakura whipped her head to the side in time to see an explosion of fireworks. She jumped to her feet quickly and scanned the horizon. Gaara stood and mimicked her pose.

“I forgot about that,” he said slowly, and she understood. This was a rare occurrence. Which meant she didn’t want to miss it.

Sakura took his hand and pulled him along as she raced towards it. Still in the gardens, they found the edge of the gardens that overlooked a significant portion of the village and she let herself fall backwards onto the grass. Gaara chuckled as he lay next to her. They had a great view of the fireworks erupting above the village.

They lay next to each other silently, just watching, leaning back on their elbows, and just enjoying the company. Eventually, the fireworks began to die down and, even though there was no hint of it on the horizon, Sakura was sure the sun wouldn’t be far away.

“Thank-you,” she said softly.

“You’re welcome.”

The stars twinkled. The blackness unable to mask their delight. She smiled at that observation. Sakura wanted to just lay here forever. Forget the Root shadow. Forget Danzo. Forget the council and Sajō and whomever it was that was colluding with the usurper Hokage. She just wanted to lie next to Gaara and forget the world. Or maybe she was more worried about getting too comfortable. The night was very, very late. She suppressed a yawn and had to physically stop herself from just flopping onto her back, in fear she’d fall asleep here and never wake up. Gaara, on the other hand, looked well rested. Or just not tired. Whichever.

She turned her gaze back to the stars. The blinking contrast between sparkles and darkness reminded her suddenly of her ink creatures. The light against the black ink sky. The way they seemed to fight each other for dominance. Yet nothing changed.

For almost a month, Sakura had been trying to find her way. Either a way out of the village or a way out of her own head. A path forward, made of the same stones as the ones in these gardens. And definitely not populated by the noisy nighttime carousers. But now, lying next to Gaara and wondering what this night would mean for their non-relationship, Sakura knew suddenly what to do. It was so very clear now.

She sat up straight and turned to face her fake fiancé turned real date, surprising him. He mirrored her movements, openly curious.

“Gaara,” she said. “I made ink creatures.”

Curiosity turned to confusion on his face. “Creatures?”

“Yes, chakra infused creatures made of ink.”

He quirked an eyebrow at her but remained silent.

“They’re hiding in my bathroom right now,” she added, knowing how weird that sounded.

“Why?”

“Why did I make them or why are they hiding?”

“Both.”

Sakura sighed. “I don’t think it’s a surprise that I didn’t choose to come here. Not under my own volition, anyway.” He nodded. “I… have wanted to leave the moment I arrived.” He didn’t look surprised. “The past few years all I could think of was getting away from Danzo. Especially the last six months, with him sending me on suicide runs.”

Gaara’s eyes widened. “He–”

“Let me get this out, please?”

He nodded again.

She cleared her throat. “I’m an idiot though. Every chance I got to get away, I squandered. Every moment in which I could slip away unseen, I freeze like my life depends on it. On my last mission I almost did leave. I saw the Konoha gate come up as I approached… it was so achingly familiar but alien at the same time. Everything about the Leaf is so… wrong, now. I wanted to get away from it. But I didn’t. Couldn’t bring myself to.” She sighed. “I guess I’m just as useless–”

“Stop.” Gaara scowled at her. “Don’t say that.”

Sakura hadn’t answered his question yet, but he suddenly didn’t seem to care. He rose to his knees and took her hands in his. They were warm and safe and not what she would’ve thought possible. Not for her.

“Sakura…” he trailed off for a moment. “it’s called self-sabotage. People do it to themselves, for years at a time even. It doesn’t make them useless. Or stupid. Or any other thing you’re thinking about yourself right now. None of that is true. I… spoke with a civilian therapist,” he said quickly, and she realised her surprise must’ve registered on her face.

A civilian therapist?

“I know what you’re talking about,” she said. “Its clinical term is Behavioural Dysregulation.”

It was a conscious (or unconscious) habit of doing things that were bad for oneself. It didn’t take a degree in clinical psychology to have heard of it, she supposed. Sakura had done quite a lot of reading on that subject, and similar, before everything went to shit. Lady Tsunade had wanted to begin incorporating mind healing into Konoha’s medical training facility.

Sakura gave a sad smile at that memory.

“Do you think…” Gaara cleared his throat. “You’d talk to one too? About… everything.”

Sakura pulled a face. “I don’t think a civilian would understand.”

The one Tsunade had proposed would’ve included both civilian and ninja therapists, though.

“Right.”

She watched Gaara closely as he released her hands and turned his head away. What he was looking at, she couldn’t tell. But his silence had an air of disappointment and contemplativeness to it.

Well, this sucks.

“I created them to scout out the village.”

He looked at her sharply.

At least he’s looking at me now.

“So, I could see the weakness in the guard patrols and escape.”

“Have you?”

She shook her head. There was no relief on his face, only contemplation. And… was he curious about them?

She decided to presume he was. “You want to see them?”

“I’m curious.”

Sakura flushed. “O-okay.”

They stood quickly and awkwardly. For a moment, neither of them moved, but then the warmth of his hand enveloped hers; his free arm snaking around her waist and holding her tightly. Gaara teleported them directly into her bedroom. Sakura trembled lightly as her feet hit the floor, but whether from nerves or the return of her libido she wasn’t sure. Her skin tingled, so maybe it was excitement. She pulled out of his grip quickly.

“Wait here,” she said and Gaara obeyed. She rushed into the bathroom and low and behold, the bird and snake were still holding onto the carcass.

Snake, she thought. I’ll call the ink snake ‘snake’ and the real, dead one ‘serpent’.

But the question that she needed to answer, and quickly before Gaara grew impatient, was whether or not to bring both. Sakura still wanted to keep secrets from him. She liked him. She trusted him. But she also didn’t trust her faith in him. Some things she just didn’t want to share.

But I told him I made creatures. As in, plural.

She sighed. She could always make more, anyway.

“Let go of the carcass,” she said softly, hoping Gaara didn’t have superhuman hearing. The ink bird released its hold while the snake curled its body for a moment, tightening the hold like a child refusing to behave. Then it was releasing it, dropping the carcass carelessly.

As she stood up, Sakura caught the reflection of herself in the bathroom mirror. It was very different to the underfed and ghastly image she’d seen the last time. She paused then smiled and turned away.

“Come on,” she told them, and the bird hopped along the floor after her. The snake seemed hesitant, and Sakura wondered if maybe she’d done something wrong.

She reached down to grab it, and it quickly wrapped its body around her arm gently as she left the bathroom. The bird twittered as it followed and then screeched at the sight of Gaara. He raised an eyebrow at it. Sakura had no idea it could do that. It didn’t have a syrinx, or any kind of noise making membranes, in its windpipe or otherwise. She wondered if it was just because of her. Sai had never mentioned anything about his creations having the ability to make noise, let alone having personalities.

I’m cracked so they are too.

It made no sense, but she supposed it didn’t matter.

It’s probably all just in my head.

Gaara watched them curiously. Sakura watched him nervously. He made no reaction to the noises the bird was making so she decided it was just all in her head. Even if he did twitch slightly when it went to peck him. Fake birds were not faster than a Kazekage. She decided to give him a rundown of her intentions with the creatures. He listened with rapt attention and Sakura found herself becoming more and more excited that someone was hearing this. Finally. She was rambling but it was kind of fun to have someone else to share this with.

“You used them to scout the village perimeter?” He asked when her rambling finally came to an end.

Sakura nodded, unable to stop the flush from heating up her neck. Was it okay that she’d done that? Probably not. But he didn’t seem put out. Maybe he was thinking about how it could help with that councillor? Or the entire council. Or maybe it was just her wishful thinking.

“What will you do with them now?”

So much for him thinking of this strategically.

“I want to help you.”

Gaara stood and walked over to her. He stopped inches in front of her. The movement could be confused with an attempt to intimidate her, but she knew he wouldn’t do that. Instead of trying to stare her down or talk her out of it, he reached out and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. The small part of her that still responded to romantic and kind gestures was weak at the knees right now. Not the rest of her. Just the girlish side. She swallowed heavily, overwhelmed with gratitude.

“Okay,” he said finally.

“Okay?”

He smiled. “Okay.”

Sakura laughed. “Okay.”

The way he was looking at her… she desperately wanted to kiss him. Or for him to kiss her. But she knew he wouldn’t. Gaara would not presume such a forward action. He was poised. He was a gentleman. But gods did she want him to toss that aside and just fucking snog her. Maybe get in a few gropes and pelvis grinding.

Sakura forced herself to relax, realising she’d tensed up the more she contemplated the idea of Gaara pressing her against the wall. He didn’t look fazed by her weird demeanour. The snake tightened itself around her arm for a moment, but she ignored it. It wasn’t important. Trying to figure out whether or not to grab the Kazekage and pull his face down to meet her in a soul-searing kiss was important.

She cleared her throat.

“It’s late,” he said suddenly. “I should go.”

There was a flush on his face she’d overlooked in her internal musing. She was proud of herself for that. But her stomach clenched at the thought of letting him leave right now. She nodded though. It was very late. They were both going to be sleeping in a little longer in the morning.

All that does is make me wonder what he looks like first thing in the morning. Fuck.

What were the protocols here? Kiss him on the cheek? On the mouth? Make-out heavily then act like it was no big deal? Pepper him with kisses along his jawline, down to his neck and… fuck.

Focus.

Gods. Her libido again. She wanted to give into it so bad. But Gaara wasn’t moving, and she had to make a decision. She decided to just go with a peck on the cheek. It could be excused away much easier. Sakura stood higher to peck his cheek softly but couldn’t bring herself to pull away once her lips touched him. The warmth of his skin, the bright tinging of his ears; he was as excited as she was. That’s what she told herself. Why else would her lips against him make him blush?

Maybe I could…

She took a chance and turned her face towards his. They were closer than they’d ever been, now breathing in each other’s air. Sakura remained on her tiptoes. Gaara lowered his head slightly, but not far enough.

Do it. Do it. Do it. Do it. Do it.

When he licked his lips, she knew. Sakura tilted her chin up, angled her head to keep from knocking their noses together and pressed her lips to his softly. Their eyes closed at the same time. She parted her lips to envelop his then tugged on his bottom lip gently before pulling away completely. At the last moment, he’d opened his mouth slightly in a gasp.

No tongues were used in the making of this fucking perfect first kiss.

It was a chaste way to the end the night and despite her body wanting, no demanding more, she maintained their newfound distance, pressing a hand against his chest as they both recovered from it. Gaara had responded to her kiss, albeit in a small way. That was enough. She would continue this with him later, now that she knew he wanted her as much as she wanted him. It was late and she was suddenly very, very tired.

After a few moments, he hastily repeated his goodbyes in that cool but cute bumbling way she’d learned to love and left.

She smiled widely. For the first time for a long time, Sakura could say she was profoundly happy.

.:.

#GaaSaku #fanfiction #my fanfiction #A Beautiful Lie

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sweetfire01 · 1 year

Text

Since it's been a couple of days, here's what I like and don't like about Nightbringer.

LIKES

The game seems to load very fast, even more than the OG. And takes up less space. Also, being able to quickly switch to other applications like :D Jobs or Devilgram without having to go back to the main screen, is a nice feature.

We can get devil points for each completed ruri tales. Very cool

The story. YAS! I've just completed chapter 5 and I'm enjoying it a lot. And the older brother side of Mammon is just 🥺❤

DISLIKES

Ruri tales. If it was a mini game like Akuber I wouldn't have minded so much. I don't find it too difficult or anything (except on hard mode where I get literally crazy), but it really takes a lot of energy and concentration. It's also impossible to pause it without missing a few targets in the process. And it lasts longer than the dance battle, about 100 seconds.

3D. I...dislike it, along with the two new applications, Fabtap and WW. I find both of them quite useless, perhaps more the first one: on one side all hearts and stickers appear, on the other all various comments, so only the central part of the screen is free. And no, I don't spend Devil points just to comment "cute". Maybe sexy yes.

For WW, I like to finally see the map of the house and, well, that thing made me laugh a little:

The daily scenes are nice, but I don't find them different from receiving normal messages.

The OG game. Since it will no longer be updated with new lessons but only events, I'll be sorry to see this original game die. This is of course just my opinion, but I would have liked to have it all in the same app. They had to make a separate game because otherwise there would be problems with 3D but honestly, they could avoid adding it. Also because, in addition to those two new features and ruri tales, the game has the same features as the first one, so we might as well combine everything. 🤷🏻‍♀️ And the new chapters would still make sense after Lesson 80.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer

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kgyeomiex · 11 months

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Diamond & Regrets

“Sometimes people leave before we’re done needing them.”

Humiliation is what you’ve experience… You had two options either fight through it or let it go and start over. You did what you thought was best and decided to start over… You were tired of looking like the bad guy because of the decisions you make. For once everything was working in your favor until the past comes back and bit you in the ass. Is there anyway you can ever move on or is there a reason behind this?

*Trying something new and adding gifs throughout the story*

Previous story: Just For A Little Bit (M) Part 1

Previous Chapter: Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4

Part 5

MASTERLIST

Your Point of View

To be honest you weren't sure whether telling Jiyong that you spent time with Mino today was important... You two don't hold secrets, but you were afraid that if you were to briefly mention this minor detail it will blow out of proportion.

You looked at him and debated with yourself...

Maybe it's best if you do mention it regardless if it's a big deal or not. It's better if he hears it come out of your mouth than someone else.

"What did you do today?" You asked as Jiyong continued to drive looking directly at the road.

"I have been running back and forth with meetings, I was getting ready to run out of there." Jiyong has been telling you about his intention of possibly coming out with a new solo album but he's still in the process of putting everything together before doing so.

"Have you started to work on any new songs," you ask him. He glanced over at you and smiled.

"Of course, I have 2 new songs written already,"

"When will I be able to hear them," you ask, and he just smiles.

"Soon... Maybe."

you glanced over and noticed the small notebook he keeps for his song lyrics sitting there in front of you. Even though you were beyond curious to see what he's been working on, you were going to wait until he showed you the final product.

"How about you? How was your day? Tell me all about it," there was no way you couldn't mention Mino as part of your day... After all, you did spend time with him.

The last thing you wanted was for him to find out about this information from anyone else.

"Well, I was taking advantage today and used my time to shop. However, I couldn't get much shopping done because before I knew it, I suddenly bumped into Jihoon and Mino, and they asked if I wanted to go out and eat with them. I couldn't be rude, so I went out to eat with them, we went to the bar for a little but now here I am," you said as you stretched over to hold his hand.

He glanced over at you and nodded his head.

"Well, I'm glad that there isn't going to be any awkward tension if I take you to more parties," Jiyong says and you just nod your head.

To be honest this wasn't the reaction you were expecting to come out of Jiyong. For some odd reason, you were kind of hoping he would have been bothered at least a little by the idea of Mino and you hanging out...

The only reason you wished he would have shown a little more of a reaction is because you wanted that reassurance that he likes you... But you know what, maybe it's better he doesn't show that he's bothered. He must trust you and that's all that matters.

"Well, you already know my views on parties," you reminded Jiyong and he smiled.

"I'll change your mind eventually,"

"We will see about that," you said smiling and he smiled in return.

Maybe Jiyong being unbothered about the situation is for the best? Did you want a jealous boyfriend again? Look what happened between Mino and you...

After comforting yourself you suddenly felt relieved that this relationship was different.

After being out the whole day, you were finally back at home. As you walked over to your bedroom, you dropped off your keys on your nightstand. As you were about to remove your coat, you stopped and looked over at the collection of vinyl.

It's weird...

Before you even went to that party, these vinyl’s did not affect you. To be honest you had forgotten that vinyl’s were something Mino and you used to share. But after seeing him buy more... The memory of the two of you going shopping for vinyl began to appear in your head. How the two of you would play your favorite album, lay in bed and talk, laugh, and absorb the music that was playing in the background.

You weren't necessarily missing Mino, but the memories the two of you hold were suddenly revisiting your mind. It's inevitable to prevent yourself from being some type of way.

All that's in the past, it doesn't matter anymore. You were in a whole new relationship... At least you think it's a relationship. Jiyong hasn't technically asked you to be his girlfriend officially...

You shook your head and ignored your thoughts.

You looked at yourself in the mirror and touched your cheek. Instead of overthinking like you usually do, you should probably relax, have a self-care day, and mask it... Yeah, that sounds like a great idea.

One thing about you is if you miss breakfast, and you remain the rest of the day hungry, you happen to be one of the crankiest people on this planet. If you don't eat you catch yourself getting ready to fight everyone and everything.

Even though you were running late to head to your office, you didn't care. Right now, the only thing you were worried about is making sure you got your morning coffee and some kind of bagel, a sandwich... SOMETHING.

You walked into your favorite coffee shop and luckily since you have become a regular, one of the workers took one look at you and started to prepare your usual order.

At this point, they should just have your picture on the wall.

You felt your phone vibrate. You pull out your phone from your pocket and there you see your assistant already calling.

Should you pick up the phone? Maybe it's something important?

Just as you were about to answer, you don't know what made you look around the cafe but when you did, you took one look to your right, and you spotted a familiar face.

Maybe if you look away you won't get noticed...

Nope...

You were spotted.

It was Jinhwan. You have no problem with him whatsoever. You just didn't know what to expect anytime you encountered him and that was the only thing that had you worried.

As you tried looking away, from the corner of your eye you noticed him approaching you. You decided to completely ignore your phone call and wait till Jinhwan approached you.

As he caught up, you looked over at him and smiled.

“Hey,”

“I knew it was you. I wasn’t sure for a second” Jinhwan says as he caught up and you smiled.

“I thought the same thing when I saw you.” Lies, you knew it was him.

“Well, I’m glad I ran into you. I wanted to ask you something” You were slightly scared of what his question was going to be, but you nodded your head.

“What’s up?”

He looked over at you and smiled.

"Well, I know this is probably weird for me to ask out of the blue especially since we haven't had an opportunity to catch up... But I am having a birthday party tomorrow night in Octagon. I was going to invite Jiyong but now that you're here I was hoping you can let him know and the both of you come along."

You already weren't much of a party person... But you felt bad to decline such an offer.

"Sounds like a good time... I'll let Jiyong know." Jinhwan smiled.

"Perfect. I hope to see the two of you there," you nodded your head and both exchanged goodbye with one another.

It's amazing how the world works... You went from going MIA to everyone in YG after breaking up with Mino and didn't come across a single soul until you started to date someone else from YG again...

Now you see them left and right... And see them anywhere you go.

After the day you had, you came straight home and didn't hesitate to get comfortable quick. You grabbed a pair of sweats, a T-shirt, and your slippers. You threw your hair in a bun and sat down on the couch ready to watch a movie until you decided to go to sleep.

Just as you were slowly dozing off the movie you felt your phone vibrate right next to you. As you grabbed a hold of your phone, without looking you answered the phone.

“Hello,” you mumbled into the phone.

“Did I wake you up beautiful?” You hear Jiyong's voice on the other side of the phone.

“No, I was still awake,” you sat up and decided to wake yourself up.

“Babe,” you know he had something to tell you.

“Yes? What’s up?”

“I have to head over to Tokyo for a photo shoot,” well that’s great. You were planning to ask him about Jinhwan's party but now that he can’t seem to make it… what was the point of telling him?

“That’s short notice,” but you weren’t surprised. Jiyong always had events that would occur at the last minute because of his job.

“I know, they told me I have to catch a flight tonight.”

“How long will you be gone?” You asked him and he sighed.

“I think they said a week,” he was going to leave you for a whole week… wonderful.

You weren’t planning on telling Jiyong about Jinhwan's party but for some reason you felt like you were holding a secret back from him. So, although you had no intentions of saying a thing you decided to tell him anyway.

“Oh… I know it’s pointless to tell you now, but this morning I bumped into Jinhwan. He invited both of us down for his birthday party tomorrow night but since you won’t be in town, I’ll just let him know we can’t go,” you said waiting for Jiyong to respond.

To be honest you were expecting him to agree and the conversation to end from there, but you were wrong.

"Why don't you go?" Jiyong encouraged the idea, and you froze.

It's not like Jinhwan was your ex or anything but Jinhwan is friends with Bobby and there is 99.9% that Bobby was going to be at that party. On top of that, you were pretty sure Mino was going to be there as well.

Although you ended the tension with Mino, you still felt like it would be awkward and weird for you to go to an event where you will be in the same room as your ex and someone you had a situationship with.

“Why would I go?" You were curious to hear what Jiyong was going to say.

"Well, why not? Aren't you friends with Jinhwan?" you were still surprised. I was about to comment on your ex being there and Bobby, but you didn’t bother.

To be fair you weren’t even sure that he even knew about Bobby…

“I mean… you know how I feel at parties.”

“Just got for a little. I feel bad I can’t attend but you can go on both of our behaves” You were speechless to see the support you were receiving coming from Jiyong, but you decided what the heck… what could go wrong?

Mino and you have officially cleared the air and then Bobby and you well… That’s a whole other story.

Eventually, you both began to talk about other things until you ended the convo and caught yourself falling asleep.

There you were standing in front of Octagon with a gift in your hands.

After Jinhwan invited you to his party you were hesitant about coming. But what did you have to lose? You are all civilized adults who can come together as one and be around one another without wanting to kill each other...

Plus, everything that happened was in the past. You were fortunate enough to clear the air with Mino but not so much with Bobby.

Who knows if Bobby has any hatred toward you... It appears to be only one way because on your end you didn't hate the guy. What happened and there was not a thing you could do about it.

You took a deep breath and walked in.

Neon lights were flashing left and right from all sorts of directions. The music was loud enough to hear the bass go off. You saw many different faces hoping to spot someone you knew.

Just with your luck the first person you happened to spot was Mino at the bar.

You were hoping to find Jihwan, but it was hard when there were people all around... Maybe you should approach Mino and have him help you find Jinhwan.

You slowly made your way to the bar.

As you approached Mino you noticed that he was in the middle of a conversation with one of his members. You were planning to walk off and look for Jinhwan yourself but as you were getting closer, they both stopped talking.

Mino's back was facing you so the person talking to him could see you approaching. As you were there and close to the two his friends looked at you and then at Mino.

"It appears that you have a guest,"

"Guest?" Mino says extremely confused, he looked over his shoulder and you were awkwardly standing there feeling bad for interfering with the conversation.

"Y/N, hey," he stood up from his seat and smiled as he saw you right in front of him.

"Hey, I hope I'm not interrupting anything," you blurted out and Mino's bandmate Lee Seung-soon shook his head.

"No, not at all! Y/N, right?" He asked and you nodded your head.

This isn't the first time you're meeting Mino's bandmate. When the two of you were exclusive at one point, you met them a few times but never really had much of a conversation with their hectic schedule. It was more like hi and bye and that was about it.

"Yes, I'm surprised you remember," to be honest you were expecting to have to reintroduce yourself to his friends, but it seemed like they remembered exactly who you were.

"Of course! After all, Mino wouldn't shut up about you," after that go blurted out, you glanced over at Mino and noticed his eyes widened at the sudden confession that way.

Mino wouldn't shut up about you? Is this recent or was this when you broke up?

You were becoming slightly curious, but you could see just from Mino's facial expression how uncomfortable he was starting to become. To avoid creating an awkward environment in today's party you just smiled and looked at Lee Seung-soon.

"It's a pleasure to see you again," Mino noticed how you didn't ask any further questions and seemed relieved.

If this was the old you, then you probably would have asked him questions or made remarks to get an answer but that's all in the past. You're with Jiyong and that's all that matters.

"Where is Jiyong?" Mino asks you and you look over at him.

"He had to travel for work, but I am here on behalf of both Jiyong and I... By the way, have you seen Jinhwan? I want to give him his gift," you said as you lifted your gift bag and he looked at the bag and then looked around.

"I did see him, but then he disappeared."

You took one look to your right and there you see Bobby and Jinhwan talking to one another.

"There is the birthday boy, I'll see you around," you told Mino, and he nodded his head and you approached Jinhwan and Bobby.

You watched the two talk to one another as you approached them.

At least as you walked up to them, they stopped talking and immediately noticed your presence.

"Y/N! You made it. Jiyong texted me telling me he wasn't going to make it and I was afraid you were going to bail on me," Jinhwan says smiling from ear to ear and you shook your head.

Even though you were hesitant to come to the party in the first place, you still decided to come because, at the end of the day, Jinhwan was never rude to you in any way. He always managed to make you feel welcome and included.

"I had to make an appearance even if it's for a little. Which by the way before I forget. . . "You lifted your hand and showed him his present in your hands, "Happy birthday."

You handed him his present and he smiled.

"You didn't have to!"

"But I wanted to, it's the least thing I can do after all you invited me here," you said and then looked over at Bobby who had his eyes on you.

"Hey, Bobby,"

"Hey Y/N," for some reason there was still awkward tension between the two of you and you were hoping that this tension would clear up sooner or later.

"Well since it's my birthday, you have no choice but to take a drink with me," Jinhwan says, and you hesitated a bit.

You weren't much of a drinker, if anything you tend to get nice easily, but one drink won't hurt anyone.

"Just one drink,"

Jinhwan nodded and you followed both Jinhwan and Bobby to the bar.

What ends up being one drink leads to a few more than you anticipated. After allowing the drinks to help you loosen up and allow you to forget all your problems you were genuinely enjoying yourself.

You ended up meeting new people and before you knew it you happened to make new friends and were out on the dance floor dancing to each song that came out.

"Do you want another drink?" Hyeryeon asks you and you shake your head.

"If I take another drink, who knows what I am capable of doing," you weren't in your five senses, however you were still in a sense aware of what you were doing.

"Aw come on just one drink," Subin insisted but you decline the drink.

"What I need is water,"

You excused yourself from the girls and walked over to the bar hoping to get a cup of water to sober you up.

"Excuse me," you tried to get the bartender's attention, but it was crowded by the bar, and it was hard to get service. Awesome.

"Y/N," You looked to your left and noticed Mino right next to you.

This man has been popping up out of nowhere.

"Mino, how are you enjoying yourself?" You asked him and he shrugged.

"Can't complain, but I am not having as much fun as you are," He commented, and you smiled.

"It's nice to loosen up for a change. Sometimes I feel like I feel too uptight and care about what people think...." you realized you were starting to blab a lot more than you probably should.

"I can tell. Coming back for another drink?" Mino asked and I shook my head.

"Well, more like a drink of water. I better sober up or who knows what I am capable of doing," as you said that Mino's eyebrows arched.

"What do you mean?"

The both of you suddenly started to look at one another and for some reason, you caught yourself looking at his lips. Mino's lips were always soft... Now that he has a lip piercing... you were curious how that must feel when kissing him.

You looked back up to his eyes and shook your head and snapped out of thoughts.

"Ooo Nothing... Just ignore me,"

You were pretty sure Mino caught on to what you meant however instead of questioning you he just smiles.

Ah, he is still cute…

You knew that this was alcohol-speaking. You wouldn’t be thinking this way if you were sober or even if you were with Jiyong.

“Ima head to the bathroom,”

You told Mino and he nodded his head.

You walked over to where the bathroom was and pulled out your phone. Maybe if you hear Jiyong's voice you can ignore this random temptation you have to kiss Mino.

As you approached the bathroom doors, you stepped to the side, leaned against the wall, and began to look through your contacts. Without thinking twice, you clicked on Jiyong's name and began to call him.

The phone began to ring.

One ring…

Another…

And then at last you heard his voice.

“Mmm hello?” He sounded like he just woke up… shit.

“Oh! Were you sleeping?” You blurred out.

“I was, but that’s okay. What’s up?”

You now felt bad for selfishly calling him.

“Oh, nothing… I just missed you and wanted to hear your voice… but it’s okay you should go back to sleep,” you tried to rush the call, but Jiyong stopped you.

“You’re fine, I don’t mind ever being woken up by you.” Jiyong always knew what to say.

“Don’t say that you’re going to make me miss you more,” you pouted, and you can hear him chuckle on the other side of the phone.

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll be back home in no time.”

You felt so much better hearing that.

“Well, I’ll let you get back to sleep, talk to you tomorrow?”

“Of course, I’ll call you when I wake up,” the both of you exchanged byes and you hung up.

Okay… you have Jiyong.

What you two have is exactly what you need.

As you got off the wall you were about to walk away until you noticed someone leaving the bathroom and you saw Bobby.

You two meet again.

“Y/N,”

“Bobby”

You could walk away… cross that you should be walking away but you were feeling bold. You walked up to Bobby and looked at him.

“Can I ask you something?” You told Bobby and he nodded his head.

“Do you hate me?”

Wow, you could have asked him anything and the first question that popped into your head was that? Get A GRIP.

“Why do you ask that?” Bobby even seemed surprised by the sudden question.

“I don’t know. I just feel this unnecessary tension between the two of us every time we are in the same room. I know you and I didn’t leave in the greatest terms … and things happen for a reason, but I just feel like maybe you and I should clear the air.” Right now, was not the time to have a conversation like this but it felt like it…

“I mean I don’t know what you want me to tell you. I tried to talk to you before and you walked away.”

“Maybe I am afraid of hearing what you have to tell me,”

Without thinking twice, you blurted that out and your eyes widened.

“I thought you didn’t care what I had to tell you,” Bobby was suddenly confused by your sudden words.

STOP TALKING, you thought to yourself.

“You know what… you’re right. I should probably go.” you were about to walk away but you suddenly hear Bobby begin to speak again.

"Can I be honest with you,"

You looked at Bobby.

"I would be lying if I were to say I didn't miss having you around. . . I mean I know I screwed up in the past and that's my mistake, but I was hoping we could move past that. I know you are with Jiyong and because of this, I know I will be seeing you around a lot more. I was hoping maybe you and I can be friends. . . What we should have been from the very beginning," you were surprised to hear this come out of Bobby's mouth.

After the incident with both Mino and Bobby, you were upset for some time but eventually, you got over the whole situation when you decided to clean up your act and focus on yourself. Fortunately for you throughout your journey, you met Jiyong and have been good since.

You didn't think about Mino and Bobby since you saw them again but now looking at the scenario you wonder if the universe put all three of you in the same room again to fix the relationship between them and you.

They probably aren't supposed to be in your life romantically but maybe they have another purpose.

"Being friends sound good to me," you told him, and believe it or not Bobby finally smiled at you.

It's been a while since you have seen him grin the way he did.

"Now that we have officially cleared the air, how about we go get a drink for old time take,"

You told yourself you were going to stop drinking for the night but one more drink won't hurt. . . right?

"Let's go,"

You had no intentions of drinking anymore but for some reason when Bobby happened to mention getting a drink you couldn't seem to say no. Instead, it sounded like a great idea, and you went with the flow.

The two of you ended up leaving Jinhwan's party without anyone around you being aware and found yourself in a bar nearby instead.

Bobby handed you your drink and you smiled.

"Don't you think Jinhwan will notice that we are gone?" You asked Bobby and he shook his head.

"I highly doubt it, if we are being honest, I overheard some of the boys say that they were on a mission to get Jinhwan drunk... So, if they succeed, he won't even remember what happens tonight,"

Aw, poor Jinhwan. You giggled and got a hold of your drink.

"Shouldn't one of us be sober to make sure we get home safely?" you asked Bobby before taking a sip and he shrugs.

"I mean we should but what's the fun in that?"

Bobby grabbed his drink and he looked at you.

The both of you cheered and then took a sip of your drink.

*Bzz Bzz*

You felt the vibration of your phone right by your head. Instead of opening your eyes you stretched out your hand and began to feel around hoping to get a hold of your phone. However, the more you stretched out your hand you felt a body next to you instead.

Jiyong is back?

You opened your eyes, looked up, and automatically realized you weren't home. . .

You looked to your right, and you saw Bobby sound asleep...

WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED

To be continued. . .

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liz-allyn · 1 year

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uh, ma'am? I just caught up with 15 & 16 and I'm making incoherent noises? is that normal? Web MD doesn't know what to say.

I am so so sad for Honey. She has snapped and the final scene from chapter 16 felt entirely like she was punishing both herself and Peter. I don't even know what to say!! My skin was crawling with those descriptions of what she went through with john (I refuse to capitalize his name. that is an executive decision I made after these two chapters) and the overlap of him and Peter. The images of them switched. Like she didn't know anymore. Everyone is a danger. Everyone will hurt her. No safety, no mercy.

Oof, the absolute heartbreaking parallel of the description of her wedding night and the dom scene with Peter. She was confused. Violated. Hurt and humiliated. And then she snaps from that daze and inflicts a semblance of the same on Peter. He is hurt and ashamed and confused. It's super heavy and I'm not sure I'm in the best mental state to really grasp everything, but just know that I'm speechless and so saaad for them both. I don't think that Peter doesn't deserve some or even all of this, and on some level, he would be incapable of accepting anything good in the state he's in. Honey helps him despite herself and what he's done to her, and he can't find it in himself to be anything but suspicious. I got the feeling that in this last chapter, Honey has grasped some power back and is immediately using it to inflict similar hurt on Peter, like what she went through. It's like she's feeling relief by proving to herself that she can do the same as the people that hurt her. She can dominate and subjugate and humiliate also. And it leaves her heartbroken. But I can hardly blame or judge her? I'm also scared that Honey made a connection between john violating her during sex and Peter fucking "that silver whore until she was covered in blood". I'm actually really scared of what she even thinks of him now.

I think I need a support group to talk about this story with, it's so addictive and maddening and I cannot stop readinggg

And as a little final thing: I wonder if Honey has any scars from all of the stitches it's implied she's given herself. And what a dumb fuck Peter is for realizing she's done that before and not questioning whether it might've been for herself ohmygod see? Maddening, I tell you!

^me seeing that you've caught up!

Oof, yes yes yes - first of all, I deeply apologize for the heavy angst. I promise it's going to be worth it in the end.

I totally understand anyone's hesitation to shy away from this story from time-to-time. Simultaneously, I want to keep reassuring people that as far down as I bring you, I'm gonna build you back up.

Hey, also - thank you for analyzing the content without being overly critical. It's okay to be worried for these characters! It's okay to be appalled! I don't think I've ever worked as hard at character building than I have on this story. Sometimes I step back and I'm like - is it too much? But I appreciate the feedback loop because it helps me steer the ship when I'm going off course.

Spoilers ahead (as well as heavy triggering topics) - I love what you pointed out about Honey mirroring the abuse that she's suffered. I've done a lot of research on how victims process trauma, and I wanted to really portray that. There's a victim-offender overlap, where victims of violence without proper support are statistically likely to gain traits of their offenders.

One of the things I wanted to establish early on is that Honey doesn't lash out. She shuts down. She doesn't typically respond with violence and isn't used to it. And each time she does with Peter, she tastes a little bit of how good it feels to be able to expend that anger somehow. Only afterwards she eventually feels guilt, like the lines between herself and John are blurry.

Also I think to an extent, the lines being blurred between John and Peter in her mind are both beneficial and harmful. On the one hand, she doesn't fully trust Peter (or anyone or anything, for that matter), so much so that she needs to feel a separation between them. She is willing to lie to him (and lie to herself about him). On the other hand, more controversially, imagining that Peter is assaulting her is the thing that pushes her over the edge and makes her orgasm. The way I see it, Peter is the monster she can control. Peter is her monster. Fantasizing about him as the perpetrator is a coping mechanism and is gratifying in the sense that she can have power over the situation.

anyway lots to think about! hope you enjoy the next chapter sometime soon!

#💬 sugar and vice #tw trauma #tw ab*se #tw violence

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operaofsocks · 8 months

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(rereading the last few chapters) damn this is pretty good actually

like... i'm impressed mostly with my ability to make it seem like i know what i'm doing. bc i very much do not. between memory issues, impulsivity, the length of time i've been working on this, and just the general way my creative process works, i am very firmly winging it chapter to chapter.

mind, i've had like... very broad story beats in mind that i was able to direct the narrative towards, but until i am right up on an event, i don't have a great sense of how it's going to go. i guess things are more fun for me that way? but sometimes it does leave me stuck for prolonged periods of time when i'm not sure where to go next.

here's a few scenes i've been thinking of for a while that i finally got to write these past few chapters (and no, i never wrote them down before i got to them):

dipper gets attacked by a lake monster and bill saves him (this has been clanging around in my head for a while. as i recall the very first iteration of the idea involved the family going out on a boat and dipper getting taken in front of them all, with bill being the only one actually able to do anything. for reasons now obvious, the idea of the family taking bill out on a calm fishing trip hasn't been plausible for a while. believe it or not this also originally had little to nothing to do with the rift aside from the amped up weirdness happening around town because of it)

bill and dipper finally get close romantically but are interrupted by mabel (another old one. years, now. originally they were going to be illuminated by the car's headlights while wrapped up in each other and close to kissing. this was also originally divorced from the previous scene, and not in direct response to it. i also think bill wasn't going to actually manage to land a kiss.)

separated from dipper, bill has to make the choice to return to the shack on his own, not under the influence of binding (thiiiiis one has changed a lot more than the others. arguably it's also one of the oldest ideas i've had for lrth; pretty sure i came up with it around the time bill emerged into the real world, and if it was before then, i likely didn't have the binding element there. the original idea was for mabel to drag dipper home after the almost-kiss and, in her fury, just abandon bill out there in the woods. then he'd make his way back to the shack of his own volition, with some introspection from his point of view about the situation. i also intended for him to find his cane, lost when dipper first bound him. i had pretty much abandoned this idea until i realized if i pit him directly against pyronica, that would be a great explanation for how the family was willing to let him go off on his own (they had no choice) and i could make it a lot more severe than it had originally been. i very nearly still did the cane thing, but upon rereading the chapter where dipper finds bill's statue, i realized i'd placed it way too close to the shack for bill to have ended up there while trying to get pyronica as far away as possible. i am currently undecided on if the cane makes a return; bill's brief look at it in his dreamscape was an allusion to him realizing he didn't actually have it anymore.)

bill and/or ford very clearly state they used to be together (i've had bill allude to it previously but it never seemed to fit in anywhere to just say it outright)

pyronica specifically becomes a major threat (don't remember why. i think i just like her, despite the absolute lack of unique character she actually has in weirdmageddon)

there's others... smaller things, mostly, little details i managed to hold onto over the years and eventually got to use. like bill and dipper going shopping with pacifica. (sorry that scene was mostly off-screen, i just really did not want to write a shopping montage, gomen nasai)

there are some other major scenes i've yet to get to but still have plans for. two, actually, that have been in the works for a long time; as i near them, they are beginning to take shape. so we'll see how it goes.

i don't know how many more chapters there will be. i don't think it's going to be over 30, but i genuinely can't say. i have started thinking about the first chapter of "good intentions", the sequel, which has a very rough plot idea but very little by way of actual planned content, as per usual.

...i also have been working on a post-apocalyptic AU of sorts for a while, in my head, though i haven't visited it terribly recently; i think my biggest hangup is that i don't know if i can make it billdip or if it'd work better as a genfic. multi-chapter genfic... imagine... idk if i could even keep up with that i'm ngl

anyway. i hope this post has been a fun read! and i also hope my shoddy planning hasn't ruined the magic for any of you lmao. sorry for winging everything. it will happen again

#tox.txt #fic: long road to hell

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namboobieslover · 1 year

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Kintsugi: the beauty of broken things || MYG

Chapter 3

Summary: Yoongi and Minnie have been friends for quite some time now, almost... 15 years? 15 years since they ran into each other in that music classroom by an unlucky (or not) mistake. They've grown close, but both of them have strong characters and insecurities that will have to be put aside when Minnie falls into her own lie, risking her job in the process. They have 3 days to feel comfortable and make everyone believe their role as the young engaged couple or she is fucked :[

Pairing: musical producer! Yoongi x lab tech/science nerdy! f reader au; non-idol! BTS members make a brief appearance

Genre: fluff, angst, kinda slow burn (?), best friends to fake couple au, constant unresolved sexual tension, two idiots too proud to openly speak but pinning each other

Warnings: use of bad language, mentions of insecurities/low self-esteem, anxiety, trauma; light use of weed, little smut if you scrutinize, SFW

Masterlist: 1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5 // 6 // 7 // 8 // 9 // ...

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

CHAPTER 3: We on, baby.

Word count: 2816

I wake up with a pounding headache as soon as I open my eyes in the morning.

-When will I learn to stop drinking? - I fumble to myself while holding my head between my hands.

Takes me more than it should but I finally get up, my reflection in the bathroom mirror remembering the bad choices of last night.

After a long shower, I feel again like a human being. After brushing my teeth the unsettling feeling in my stomach is gone.

I don't have much time to get ready, so I pick whatever clothing looks comfier and I start my way to the bus stop.

The trip gives me a few minutes to check my smartphone, answering some unread messages from family and friends but especially Yoongi.

The day goes slow, really slow. My eyes hurt when looking at the little samples through the microscope but the silence in the lab is exquisite. 1-1 in cons vs pros.

Even though my mind is a little foggy, it's a good evening. I'm able to keep a stable medium for the cells to grow and it seems like the replication of the environment is going as it should. Also, the culture I did to explore the possibilities of a virus as a treatment is growing nicely. My research is on the right path.

I finish around 9:30 pm thanks to all my good achievements and I'm really hungry.

The place I’ve chosen to order tonight's dinner it's the one with vegetarian burgers near my job; a lot of time has passed since the last time I ate here. I pick my favourite (the delicious plant-based), for Yoongi the one with veal and lastly, a portion of potatoes to share.

-Hi Minnie, how are you today? -the grandma who owns this place asks me- I haven't seen you for a long time; where have you been?

-I've been busy with work lately; my routine has been hectic.

-It's noticeable; you have lost weight and it is unusual to see you with eye bags. Aren’t you resting enough?

-More or less; it's a temporary situation. Hopefully next week things will come to their normal rhythm. But I really missed your food Mrs Lee -I speak honestly while pouting- You are the closest thing to my mother's food in this city.

-And you are my favourite client so please, come visit more even if it's just to have a coffee. I find all your science things interesting, as does my Sandra.

-How is she?

-She is studying every chance she has; your notes have helped her greatly. She also told me that you are available to answer her doubts.

-Yeah of course. It's an honour to be able to help another woman to infiltrate this amazing world that science is. Sadly there are fewer of us than it should be.

-I appreciate that so much… -she gets a little emotional at my words.

-What about you? How is it going with the knee replacement?

-Rest of my body it's still old but that knee seems like it has its own life. My younger grandson, Taeyang, says that I have become a transformer.

After a little more catch-up talk while food is in the making, I start my way to Yoongi’s apartment; 10 minutes away from here.

The walk is nice and feels super fast while listening to my favourite songs. Lately, that has been Namjoon 's latest álbum, Indigo. I swear, that man is a poet hiding behind his hip-hop style and a smoking hot body that seems little when he has a clumsy day. The lyricism of his songs makes my heart flutter and I'll never get tired of telling him.

One good thing about Yoongi's work is the fact that I'm able to meet new artists he is friends with, and learn about other cultures, influences and styles. He always introduces me to them and usually, it is really easy to be part of their little musician group even if I'm not that well instructed in that area. The group we all have is "pussycians" since half of those boys are afraid to let people get to know them (strangely that doesn't apply to one-night stands and I lectured them about it) and I'm a girl + a bunch of musicians boys. As you can tell, the last idea wasn’t mine but from Kim Seokjin, the older of us.

With "Still life" at its maximum level, I finally reach my best friend's door. I struggle a little but when I'm about to open it, it does by itself showing a dishevelled Yoongi. He scares me and I can't hear a word of what he is saying with the earphones on.

-Holy crap Yoongi, you scared me to death -I struggle to say still agitated while taking them off - one day you'll be the reason I end up with a heart attack.

-You were noisy; it's not my fault. You didn't listen because of the music. You'll be deaf before turning thirty if you don't stop using the highest level.

-Don’t you feel like, sometimes, with some songs, listening to them doesn't feel enough to you? Like… I wish every single note were able to enter my brain and scratch it internally till I can't think any more.

-Umm… I guess -he agrees with me a little confused, but entertained.

I enter his house with him closing the front door after me. I go directly to the small table that sits near the sofa; the usual place we eat instead of the main table.

-Which song was that good? -my friend asks while tearing the sleep away from his eyes.

-Namjoon's "Still Life". His latest álbum is incredible; you have hard competition, boy.

-Indigo is cool, but maybe I'm a little more into J-hope's "Jack in the Box". Kinda old school hip-hop, dark, rock vibes… but that's on my taste.

-Same but reverse for me, so I get you. I really like Hobi's main songs and even the intro with all the Pandora thingy or Equal Sign, but it doesn't exactly match my taste as a general artwork.

I unpack the food while talking about it and its smell makes my stomach roar.

-Is this from Mrs Lee's place? -Yoongi asks, finally awakened.

-Yeah. Told me to send you greetings in her name.

-Oh, she is so nice… Is her knee okay?

-Perfect. Little Tae told her that she is now half transformer.

-That kid is my favourite Mrs Lee grandchildren.

-Mine has to be Sandra.

-Of course you love her; she is a little you. Maybe not like you exactly; Sandra is less annoying.

He says that with a serious face, but after feeling my death glare, he can't help but smile arrogantly looking at his burger.

-I'm so glad I spilt on your food; I knew that sooner or later it would be handy and deserved.

-Don't worry honey boo-boo, nothing you do can disgust me -he answers mockingly knowing that I didn't commit such an act.

The rest of the dinner is chill. Some dating show on the TV and a light conversation about our jobs.

Once we finish the delicious food he offers me some dessert but I refuse. A little liquor some friend gifted him? Not that much. But it's understandable; it is a sweet creamy one that tastes heavenly.

-So…going straight to the point: let's talk about the plan.

-Well damn -I say almost choking on the drink- what do you wanna start with?

-Maybe…nicknames? That seems to be easiest between today's tasks -he says looking in a notepad.

-Is that a list?

-Of course. When we talked about it I took notes before forgetting due to alcohol.

-Let me see it.

"Free Minnie"

-I will ignore that name but you are an idiot Yoongles.

-○—○—○—○—○—○—○—○—○—○—○—○

"Free Minnie"

☆ 2-part plan

Day 1:

✅️ Partying together and pretending to be a couple.

✅️ Wearing clothes the other likes.

✅️ Getting used to holding hands and side hugging.

✅️ Getting comfortable being close to each other.

Day 2:

☑️ Accord lovey-dovey nicknames

☑️ Comfortably hug each other/being near/share the same vital space.

☑️ Practice:

Introducing each other

"Love story"

Pecks (????) 🤮🤮

-^---^---^---^---^---^---^---^---^---^---^---^---^

-Yeah, the nickname issue seems like the best fit for an appetiser. Do you have something in mind? -I answer kinda surpassed by all the tasks for today.

-For me or you?

-Whatever.

-What about calling you “my little pumpkin”?

-Are you kidding?

-No… Isn’t that what partners call each other? Some girls I dated read romance books where they talk like that.

-Well, I don't know. I never had that kind of relationship.

-Me neither.

We erupt in laughter. None of us has ever had a relationship that serious, meaning this stuff is new to us.

-Let’s start with me -I offer as an ice-breaker- I don’t know about what other people like, or you, but I’m not into clinging words. Pumpkin… is too much. I guess the better option is something on the classical side: honey, sweetheart or even Minnie since nobody calls me like that in my working environment. ‘’Babe’’ is acceptable if we feel comfortable enough with it.

-I’m not an affectionate person in speaking terms so…that’s perfect for me, honey.

I feel a slight shiver running down my body.

-Ugh, that felt weird without the sarcastic tone.

-To me too -he laughs- but we have to get used to it in less than 24 hours. Do you want another glass?

Then I realise that my drink is long finished. This liquor is truly dangerous.

-Yeah, this is delicious.

-It was a gift from one of Jimin’s travels. From the northwestern part of Spain if I’m not wrong.

-I envy him so much… he is always travelling.

-That day will come for us too, I’m sure -he declares while handing me the now filled (to the top) vase. He served himself some whiskey.

-You better be right Min Yoongi -I menace while gulping some of the hot liquid- Now… What about you? What are your chosen nicknames?

-It would be incredible if you called me “sexy monster” or something similar. That has one hundred per cent of probabilities to erase any type of doubt.

-If I ever get so drunk that the only option to get me sober is making me puke, repeat that phrase word by word, it will work.

He smacks my arm jokingly.

-Now, on a serious note… I like when you call me Yoongs, Yoongles or Yoon. And that also feels personal, don’t you think?

-Can do the work.

-I feel comfortable with babe or honey/handsome. But not baby; that’s a little cringe.

-I agree. I hate that.

-What’s the worst nickname someone has called you?

-Like… ever?

-Yeah.

-You are not ready for that, and I’m not drunk enough to say it out loud. Ask me later -I answer flustered with a playful wink.

-Don’t worry I won’t forget. Also… you tend to match inversely your lack of shyness with the alcohol level in your blood. This is going to be a fun night.

-Bla, bla, bla. Let’s keep going.

I take a bathroom rest that also allows me to change my contact lenses to the glasses. I don’t feel comfortable wearing them in public, so every day I deal with changing between both at my desk at the office of the lab, all to fulfil my work protocols and also my social anxiety. A routine I got during the pandemic time with the struggle of getting fog in the glasses due to the mask when sudden changes of temperature happen (such as entering a place, the bus…).

-I’m back, babe -I announce funnily stumbling a little with the rug’s verge. Seems like alcohol is silently doing its work- Let’s talk about how you fell in love with me.

He chokes on his drink.

-Yoongles, I was talking about the false love story.

-I know, I know. My brain is working a little slower than usual and it has a lot of things to process.

-I was thinking that keeping it real is the best. The easier, the better. You know how they say that the best lies contain some truth behind them. We can just keep the original first meeting and the school years like they were, but makeup something about college years.

-Like what?

-Aren’t you going to add something?

-Liberal arts -he excuses himself and shrugs- You are the brains, I’m the unpolluted taste. That’s how we always work, sweetheart.

I roll my eyes.

-We can explain that in the urge to reduce expenses, we decided to become flatmates. Living 24/7 made us realise that we are perfect for each other and it was difficult, but we took the step a year after. How many years are socially accepted to date before getting engaged?

-Two? -he answers, as lost as me.

-Maybe… four?

-Isn’t that a lot if we had met in high school?

-That’s true.

-What about three?

-Three is it. Who decided to take the first step in the process from friends to lovers?

-Maybe you? You have 0 patience and probably your colleagues know it… Honey.

-Yeah, sounds like me -I have to admit.

-About establishing a relationship… that fits me better. You are impatient but insecure; you would have a hard time getting the confidence. Same for the engagement?

-First of all: I’m not that insecure -I start getting kind of riled up- Second-

-Before you continue, let me ask you something. For how long have you owned those glasses?

-Mmm… around two years I think.

-Then, how is this one the first time I see you with them?

I don’t have to answer that because he knows.

-If not that, then answer the following: what do you think about yourself? Do you consider yourself pretty?

Is this what a deer caught in the headlights feels like? How can be asking this so suddenly while keeping the calm front that characterizes him? He is so annoying.

-That’s what I thought -it angers me a little to see how sure he is about that premise- Do you want a refill?

I was so nervous that once again I had finished my drink.

-I think I’m ready to try something stronger -I challenge him.

-We on, baby.

A/N: Sorry I've been missing but uni has me on constant house arrest omg. These ones are shorter but we are getting there. Hope you like it and hope you have a good night/evening... Feel free to give some feedback :)

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ebitchwriting · 1 year

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Dragged Into The Blood

Summary: Never staying in one place for long, Lea was used to impermanence, chaos, and having to drop everything at the drop of a hat. Lea never expected that she would be kidnapped and wake up in a rusted, decrepit prison cell because of a madman's delusional belief in eugenics and cleansing the Earth of imperfection. By herself, with only the clothing on her back, she will have to rely on luck and logic to escape before she's killed or worse.

Warnings: None really for CH6. Lea's freaking out about how to help a now unconscious JIll, but her thoughts don't really spiral down a self-harming route. It's a far chiller chapter for Lea.

I'm fucking back baby, with a new mini PC to actually be able to focus on writing, editing, and posting chapters! It took me a little over a month to be able to get a new computer, but I fucking got it! This chapter is a shorter one, and pretty chill compared to what's been happening to Lea so far. Jill is unconscious, and Lea has no idea what to do, but lucky for her, Josh is on the way! Once again, please leave comments in the notes or in the comment section on A03 to let me know how my writing is thus far and how I can improve. I do truly want to hear your opinions. And I hope you enjoy the chapter!

Chapter 6: A Brief Respite From The Fight

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16.

Lea's heart rate spiked, and in an instant, she was there, catching the unconscious woman before she could hit her head. Her eyes widened, flitting back to where she was and where she now stood, her mind stuttering and silent. After a long moment of trying and failing to process what had just happened, Lea shook her head and turned her attention to Jill.

"Alrighty then, I'm just going to set you down..." She mumbled to herself, awkwardly but gently laying the woman down on the ground, adjusting her position into the recovery position. Mentally, Lea thanked her late aunt for teaching her basic first aid. Yet, simultaneously, Lea wished she had taught her what to do if transportation to a hospital wasn't an option. Lea kneeled over Jill, two fingers pressed against the pulse point in her neck. Thankfully, Jill's pulse was still present, steady, and rhythmic. However, the teenager still didn't know what action would be most beneficial or would harm her more.

Firstly, she could wake her up. If Jill was concussed, falling asleep could be dangerous, but it didn't seem like Jill had taken any hits to the head throughout the fight. Secondly, Lea knew that the device latched onto her was damaged and electrocuted the woman at least two times, which could induce seizures. However, Jill isn't having a seizure episode at the moment, and even if she was, there was nothing Lea could do except let it run its course and help once Jill regained consciousness. Thirdly, she could have lost consciousness because of blood loss since the device was ripped out rather than surgically removed. As Lea inspected Jill's chest, she could see that despite logic, there was virtually no bleeding, just pinpricks of blood in each of the tiny, circular wounds that made up the octagonal pattern. If Lea were optimistic, she would settle for exhaustion being the cause of Jill passing out, but she knew life was rarely that forgiving.

Lea's heart stuttered as the shuffling of footsteps started to echo. She spun around, looking around frantically. The room was empty, but she knew it wouldn't last long. The teenager forced herself to stand, pulling out the rifle and shifting into a proper stance. Thankfully, it sounded like just one person was approaching, but still, Lea kept on her guard.

A minute passes. And another. And another. With each minute, the knots in her guts twist more and more in dread. Then, finally, someone enters the room. A dark-skinned soldier, about thirty years old, wielding a specialized handgun that the girl didn't recognize. The man, surprisingly, didn't notice the teen and instead checked sides to see if there were any enemies, ironically. However, he saw her once his searching eyes reached the staircase. He visibly bristles at the sight of Lea, his hands still aiming the gun in her direction, but she notices how his finger wasn't on the trigger and how his hands just slightly wavered.

"Who are you? Better answer quick, I'm not in the mood to kill right now." Lea forced herself to speak up first, keeping her tenor voice steady, low, and monotonous, echoing and bouncing off the walls.

The man stayed silent, staring at her, analyzing her. His brown eyes flickered from the gun to the dirty and messy hair that stuck in every direction, to the dirtied and ripped clothing that clung to her body, and finally to her eyes, which he visibly shivered at. Then, to Lea's surprise, the man lowered his gun slowly, carefully, clearly trying not to scare the teenager as he holstered the weapon and brought his open hands up to either side of his head.

"Hey, let's all calm down a bit. I'm Josh Stone. I'm from the military, and I'm here to save-" The teen's nose twitched in annoyance from his tone of voice, and he shifted the gun to aim at the ground next to him, interrupting him with a gunshot.

"Don't talk down to me," Lea spat out venomously, "I'm not a little kid. Why are you here, Josh?" The teen demanded.

"I'm sorry, but please do not shoot at me again." Josh calmly apologized, his tone having a light edge— a warning. The teenager nodded slowly and carefully. "I'm the captain of the West Africa branch division of the B.S.A.A., and I'm looking for two of my comrades, Chris and Sheva. Have you run into them?" Josh continued, cutting straight to the point to Lea's relief. The teen paused, breaking eye contact with the man as she processed what he said. Lea noticed his accent was similar to Sheva's, and considering the branch he served, the teen felt confident she knew where she was now. But that was something she could focus on later. Lea sighed, lowering the gun to show him she didn't consider him a threat.

"I haven't met them directly, but you just missed them. They went up the elevator behind me." Lea tried to keep her calm, but she didn't have the energy for that anymore, and she sounded shaky and uneven. "But, um, ah, I have someone here who- who would know where they're going, but- but she's passed out. I don't know what to do." Lea tried her hardest to keep her tone even but could barely complete her sentence without her voice cracking and threatening to turn into a sob. The teen refused to start crying from the stress of the situation and kept herself silent as Josh began to jog up the stairs, taking two steps at a time. It didn't take the man much time to reach the unconscious woman, reaching his hand out to Jill's shoulder, shaking the woman awake.

"Hey. Can you hear me? Are you alright?" The man loudly and clearly asks, considerably more well composed to the panicking girl. But, to Lea's surprise, it didn't take long for Jill to rouse from unconsciousness.

"... Chris..?" Jill softly muttered, slurred and thick with exhaustion. The woman kept trying to lift her head, but her head kept falling as if she was struggling not to nod off again. She brings a hand to rub roughly at her eyes, pushing herself into a sitting position, leaning heavily on her palms as she tries to regain her senses.

"Good, you're awake," Josh stated, and Lea couldn't tell if he was announcing that for Jill's comfort or himself. He turns to his right side, rummaging through his hip pouch, pulling out a small first aid kit. "I'm Captain Josh Stone from B.S.A.A. West Africa branch. I've got to say. I never thought I would get the chance to meet you, Jill Valentine. Or you, Lea Anderson." Simultaneously, Jill's head snapped up to meet Josh's gaze, and Lea's entire body froze. Josh pulled a few cotton balls, disinfectant, a gauze pad, and a surgical tape roll from the half-empty first aid kit. "Is it alright if I clean your wounds, or do you want to do it yourself?" Jill nodded, and Josh started to dampen the cotton balls, dabbing them gently but firmly to each puncture wound.

"Thanks," Jill hissed, wincing at the sting of the disinfectant. She turned her head over to the teenager. "Lea, I am so sorry about everything. I couldn’t stop him, but-"

"Don't. It's not your fault. I know none of this was of your own free will." Lea interrupted her, her voice a little louder than it needed to be, a little harsher, but thankfully, Jill understood Lea was genuine, muttering a thank you before turning back to the captain.

"So, what are you doing here?" Jill asked, her tone still strained and tired but stronger than before.

"I'm looking for my comrades Chris and Sheva, and Lea says you may know where they are." Josh calmly relayed the information as he grabbed the gauze pad, motioning for Jill to hold it in place as he taped the edges of it against her skin. While it didn't surprise the girl, she was still disappointed that a rescue effort wasn't part of B.S.A.A.'s agenda.

"Yeah, they both went after Wesker. He's on some tanker." Jill responded, taking his hands as he helped her onto her feet.

"I saw when I got offshore, do you know where they are headed?" Josh asked, speaking a little more quickly, his anxiety peeking through his calm demeanor.

"Yeah, but it's already left. It's too late to get to it now." Jill responded with a shake of her head, her face grim and melancholic. Lea could feel the dread building in her gut at that revelation, and the teenager couldn't help but start nervously rubbing at her temples. Josh noticed this quickly and wasn't having any of it as he quickly masked his anxieties behind a calm face.

"It's never too late. I want both of you to know that it's never too late. I've got a helicopter waiting, and I'm going after Sheva." Josh stated, without an ounce of doubt of failure in his tone, looking back and forth between the two.

"Got room for two more?" Jill asked, glancing at the teenager, then back at the captain. Even though Lea knew logically there would be no way Josh would leave the two to fend for themselves, she could still feel that fear in the back of her mind that Josh would decide that they, or even just Lea, would be too much of a hindrance to bring along. The captain sent a charming smile directly to Jill, his eyes a little more lively than before.

"There's always room for a beautiful lady." The man flirted with a chuckle, making the teenager roll her eyes.

'... Is this seriously the time..? Is he just joking to make everything feel less fucked..? Or is he seriously trying to flirt here..?' Lea thought to herself, keeping herself quiet.

"I bet you say that to all the girls." Jill flirted back, making the teen roll her eyes a little harder as she made her way to the elevator, pressing the button very carefully, still highly unsure of her new limits. Thankfully, the cart didn't take long to come back down.

"Just the pretty ones. Come on, let's go!" Lea couldn't help the incredulous groan that escaped her throat at that, quickly walking into the cart with the other two. The pit in her stomach never alleviated; the teenager stood there, imagining what horrors they would face in this desperate escape.

#resident evil #resident evil 5 #dragged into the blood #jill valentine #josh stone #a03 fanfic #a03 link #original character #canon compliant

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cinematicsoph · 2 years

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you don't go to parties [chapter two]

You Don't Go To Parties - Chapter Two

Rating: PG-13 ish

Warning: swearing, mentions of drinking

Word Count: 1,348 words

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"Yo! Ash! Get out of bed man, it's already 10 and I need your help cleaning up!"

"Michael Gordon Clifford, I swear to all the gods above, you better let me sleep." Look, he knows he says this every time, but this was probably the worst hangover Ashton's ever had in his life. He's in no way a lightweight, and he usually remembers the parties he hosts the next day. But today? Absolutely nothing. His mind is blank, he's sleeping on the couch instead of his nice bed (which explains the sore back), and he only has one sock on. He doesn't even remember wearing two socks. "Wait, what the fuck happened last night?!"

A cliché line that Ash never thought he'd have to say. He took pride in being able to remember every insignificant little detail of all of his parties. For example, he loved that he remembered this one party in his freshman year because Mikey had tried to do a handstand and ended up kicking his crush in the nose. Ashton never wanted Michael to forget that. But yesterday was still completely blank. He couldn't remember anything after trying to build up the courage to talk to his mystery girl before she disappeared.

Holy fuck. Mystery girl. Did he miss his chance to talk to her? Did he talk to her and just forget? God he really fucked up. What did he even have to drink last night?

"DUDE! You totally spaced out there, you good?"

"What?" Ashton looked up at Michael. "I-I'm fine, just trying to remember last night."

"Well, if you were listening to me you would've heard me tell you that you ended up freaking out over some mystery? So Cal gave you a cig to calm you down which then caused someone to bring their weed and it all blossomed from there. Seriously I don't think I've ever seen you that fucked. Even our first freshman party."

Some mystery? That had to be his mystery girl, right? Ashton couldn't think of any other mystery. While trying to process all the information Michael just gave him, Ash's phone went off. He expected it to be one of the guys, but instead saw the name Cameron.

"Mikey, do you know anyone by the name Cameron?" Ashton looks up and notices that Michael is already gone. "Thanks, buddy. You're a lot of help." He rolls his eyes and looks back at his phone.

thanks for the advice yesterday, i really needed it :)

Advice? If there are only two things Ashton knows it's that: 1. he is awful at giving advice and 2. never trust Cal with a secret (poor guy ends up forgetting it's a secret and blabs it to whoever will listen).

Advice? Who is this? No, that sounds rude. You’re welcome :) Always here for help. “No, Ashton. You fucking moron, you’re awful at advice!” He groans and deletes the message. He also prays to the gods that Cameron is not staring at the three little dots constantly pop up and go away. "Who the hell is Cameron?!"

~~~

"Fuck, Kat. I probably scared him away!!" Cameron was pacing back and forth staring at her phone waiting for a text back from the guy she met at the party yesterday. She had seen him around, but she never learned his name. Then at the party she finally got the courage to talk to him. She wasn’t one to have crushes, but damn was he fine. She was drawn to him as soon as she went to her first Kappa Tau party. But she knew that he was a sophomore and probably wouldn’t care too much about some “baby” freshman.

Cameron Solace was in no way a partier in high school. But her best friend Katrina Larson dragged her to nearly every frat house that was throwing a party during rush week. They went all over and there didn’t seem to be many going on until they reached Kappa Tau Gamma. Everyone at the school seemed to be there. There were people in the front and back yard, people in the house, even people on the roof (Cam decided she didn’t want to know how that happened).

“K, please. You know I hate parties.” Cameron drags her feet on the sidewalk, willing herself to stay in place even as her best friend (tries) to drag her to the frat house.

“Come on, C. Stay for 30 minutes and if you still hate it, we can go back to ZBZ. Deal?” Going back to their sorority house, Zeta Beta Zeta, wasn’t much better since it’d be empty until everyone decides to come back from the parties. Then it’ll be full of drunk college girls who don’t know their right from left. But anything would be better than staying here.

“Deal. I’m starting a timer right now. You can’t trick me out of this.” Cameron pulls out her phone and sets a timer for 30 minutes. She knew if she didn’t Kat would try to trick her into staying longer than necessary. They walk into the house and Cam immediately looses her hearing due to the loud ass music blaring through the place.

“I’m gonna go get a drink! You want something?” Kat yells over the music (if Cameron wasn’t deaf already, she definitely would be now).

“Yeah, you know what I like! Meet me at the staircase.” Cam goes to walk towards the staircase, and as she’s walking she could’ve sworn she felt someone’s eyes on her. She chooses to ignore it and continued to the stairs. She looks around the house, searching for anyone she may recognize. Then her eyes landed on him. Tall, handsome, prettiest eyes you’ve ever seen. She felt like she could faint right then and there, even with no alcohol in her system. She had to know who he was.

And she did. She somehow ended up sitting in the hallway with him, talking about her homesickness and the stress of being a college freshman. She had asked him for advice on how to pass her film class (even though he wasn’t a film major) until she realized they had never exchanged names.

“I don’t think I ever caught your name, I’m Cameron by the way.”

“I’m Ashton.”

“C, you’re freaking out for no reason. He has to be really messed up to freak out over that simple of a text.”

~~~

“I’m freaking out man!” Ashton finished telling Luke the entire story of what had happened. Or at least all that he remembers. “I have no memory of who Cameron is or what advice I gave them. I’m terrible at advice! I probably fucked this poor person over with my shitty advice!”

“Dude, you’re freaking out for no reason. There’s no problem with blacking out after a party. I mean look at Mikey, he blacks out all the time. Just text or call this Cameron, explain to them that you were high and drunk as hell last night, and let them know that you can’t remember what happened.” Luke was sitting on Ash’s bed as Ash paced back and forth, biting his lip anxiously.

“That’s not a douchebag move? Like I just forget every girl I talk to? What if they think I’m toxic?”

“Oh my God, just give me your phone!” Luke reaches out and grabs Ashton’s phone from his hand before he could react. He starts typing and Ash is worried that whatever Luke says won’t be good enough (not that he didn’t believe in Luke, he did, she was just also going absolute batshit). “There.” Luke hands his phone back and Ashton sees that not only did Luke type the message, he also sent it already.

No problem. But look, I got really messed up last night and if I’m being completely honest I forgot everything that happened. Can we start over?

“Really dude? It was that easy?”

“It was that easy.” As Luke gets up and walks out of Ashton’s room, Ash’s phone already goes off.

i’d like that, i’m Cameron :)

I’m Ashton :)

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fanfic masterlist

main masterlist

#5sos #you don't go to parties #chapter two #fanfic #ashton irwin fanfic #5 seconds of summer #5sos fanfic #cinematicsoph

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nyeddleblog · 2 years

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It's Always the Quiet Ones. [Final Part]

Word count: 3,727 Pairing: Andrew! Peter Parker x Fem!Reader. Warnings: heavy make out, smut, swearing, long chapter, unprotected sex, oral sex (fem receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, lots of interruptions, probably unrealistic sex, reader's past sex life isn't really clarified because i believe it isn't relevant in the character; but you can think of her as a virgin or not, whatever makes you comfortable. Summary: You couldn't help but bring him home.

PART 1. PART 2.

You sat down at the edge of the building, careful not to slip on your way; he inhaled sharply at the sight. And so, to make sure he could catch you if anything, he sat beside you.

There was some ease on just letting his feet hang, but he wasn't sure you could feel the same he did. You didn't have the certainty that if you just let go, you could survive.

No, you would probably die instantly if you fell.

"When I first met you" you started to say, looking into the distant store located in front of the street downstairs "I really thought you were taken out of some fiction book, you seemed too good to be true..."

"But you said I was an irresponsible ass...!" he laughed, you smiled fondly at him.

"Oh, you were" you clarified "But I'm talking before that, when we were in first year and you took pictures for the yearbook and you were still being picked on by Flash"

"Oh, right, the old times."

"Yeah" you shrugged "I guess that impression of you got stuck on me for the rest of high school, I had a big crush on you and it didn't matter how many times you would fail me, I still longed for you to come..."

Peter opened his mouth to say something, but only a frail sigh fell out of it.

"But then I met this dude online after our last day of high school, thought I got over you and I guess the love was replaced with resentment."

You started moving your legs, swinging them back and forth. Peter wished he hadn't been that much of an asshole so he could be able to brag about how adorable his girlfriend was.

"Yeah, that's... That's understandable" he nodded, biting his lip "Hope I still have time to bring those feelings back, though"

You widened your eyes, finally looking back at him "Oh, no. You misunderstood me. I was saying that kind of as an introduction. I guess I never really got over you."

There was a nurtured silence between you, where the realization that you were confessing finally sunk in. He, at a loss of words, licked his lips and put a hand on your thigh in a careful, yet comforting gesture.

"I really... I wish I could..." he sighed, frustrated "I guess I wasn't expecting that."

Some disappointment shone itself through your eyes "You really don't have to say anything..."

"I know, but I want to, I just..." Instead of completing his sentence and impulsively, Peter Parker took your face in his hands and kissed you.

The feeling took a few seconds to be processed. From the disappointment of thinking he was rejecting you, you really weren't expecting his lips against yours just now.

Peter had amazingly soft lips, and yours had been chapped from so much biting on them; but as you were sinking into your insecurities, separating from him, you could see him instinctively getting closer, as if longing to kiss you longer.

"I'm sorry" he breathed in, his voice deeper "I should've asked..."

You wanted to say that he could take you right there and you wouldn't mind because suddenly you were all his, but it was better to just kiss him again.

Fuck your chapped lips, or your fear of rejection; you were kissing your high school crush, on top of your favorite place, wearing a cute dress and after a perfect evening together.

You were a good kisser, you put all of your feelings on it and he could almost taste the want, and the loving way you thought of him. He actually could smell your arousal.

He moaned unconsciously when he felt your grip on the back of his head, trying your best not to pull on his hair.

You said he was an asshole, but you didn't really feel that, did you?

And it was when he gripped your thigh once more that things started a little bit out of hand. You both noticed, because you parted your kiss with uneven breaths and the look on your face made him want to forget about everything else except you.

"D-do you want to walk me home?" you murmured, your voice sounding so little, yet so needy.

He caressed your cheek, putting a strand of your hair behind your ear and leaning for a longing yet short kiss.

"Yes"

The walk home was surprisingly quiet; a few giggles when you went down the stairs, but every time he thought about joking, or about talking even, he remembered that... If you invited him over, he could be able to stay... He could be able to feel you.

He really needed to find a place to take the suit off if those were the plans, though.

"Fuck" you practically yelled, waking him up from his daydreaming.

Beside him, and half of your dress soaking wet, you were standing.

"Ugh, right on my best outfit" you murmured.

He tried his best not to laugh, but going from a rather needy and desperate mood, to seeing you covered in plant water and ready to lose your shit was a fun change of plans.

"I'm sorry!" A woman yelled from a balcony, holding the empty base from where the water came from.

You looked up, down to your dress and sighed loudly "It's okay."

Peter shook his head, trying to stop his laughter. "And just when we were so close to your place" he giggled to himself.

"Oh, fuck you..."

He leaned in, unsure if he wanted to do the joke but playfully going "Fuck me, then."

You froze in place, just in front of your building's entrance. You quietly turned around, and signaled the stairs "Wanna come inside?"

He blinked in surprise. "Oh, uh, yeah..."

Nervously, you blurted your possible plans as you went upstairs. Asking if he wanted to watch a movie, while your ordered some pizza; saying that you didn't get to have dinner as he promised, so he owed you that... And when you finally went inside, there was nothing left but the shyness by the knowledge that you both wanted to fuck.

"I'm gonna go change" you murmured, looking down "You can search for a movie meanwhile, the password is my birthday."

Peter didn't really know if you wanted to watch a movie, or if it was just because entering your place and fucking each other in the couch wasn't that much of a turn on as it was in the top of a building after a heartwarming confession.

He took your laptop either way, and tried to write down the first movie he could come up with, surprising himself on your browser history.

He didn't find any bizarre porn movie, but he did find a few tumblr blogs on bondage, and he was surprised by how many of them coincided on the same.

This wasn't just a curiosity search of one day, was it? You were into this stuff...

He felt your footsteps coming back from your bedroom, and he closed the page. Excusing his lack of movie on the fact that he didn't know what you wanted to watch.

But then he took a look at you and he couldn't help but close the laptop.

"Aren't we watching a movie...?"

He left your laptop aside, standing up and pulling you in by the chest. He hand caressed your cheek like you were getting used to him doing, and he lightly touched your nose with his.

"Do you really want to see a movie?"

With the confirmation that you didn't, in fact, want to cuddle on the couch and watch a movie, he kissed you once more. Your unsteady balance and the need he put into crashing his lips to yours made you stumble back against the wall.

He riled up the oversized skirt you had put on and teased over the edge of you bra without touching anything you didn't give him permission to.

"Fuck, I really like you..." he almost whined, in a breathy tone that made your thighs press together "I fucking love every part of you."

His lips trailed onto your neck leaving gentle kisses until he felt he couldn't help himself, and his grip on you became tighter, practically pushing you against the wall.

His tongue savored the taste of your perfume, and the heightened senses should have made him at least wrinkle his nose; but focusing on your soft noises and your scent was making him obsessed with it.

As your soft hands went on pushing his jacket off his shoulders, and started unbuttoning the flannel, you could feel his leg locating itself between yours. "I really want you" he said weakly "I need you."

The flannel fell to the floor, right beside his jacket. You kissed him again, wanting to feel the skin of his chest, but yet another fabric retained your desire. You whined, frustrated.

"How many shirts are you weari-?"

You looked down. Him, distracted with the hickeys he was creating on your neck, suddenly froze.

He was wearing a Spider-man suit.

He was wearing the Spider-man suit.

He was Spider-man?

"What the fuck...?" you panicked "What the fuck? What...? Why...?"

He got away from you, trying to deny it. He took the fabric, baffling, but your panic persisted and he seemed to feel the tension on the air.

"That's why you never showed up in time..."

"This is a costume..."

"That's why you always disappeared..."

"No, no, Y/N, I'm preparing for Comic Con..."

"Why the fuck did you put the suit under your clothes?!"

He realized you weren't buying into his lies.

"Because I wasn't planning on fucking you tonight!"

You blushed, taking your head in your hands. "Why...? How did you forget you had it on when we started...?"

"Well I was kinda distracted..." he said with a defensive tone, signalling to his pants with his stare.

"Oh, god! What do I do now?"

He let out a frustrated growl, letting himself fall on the couch. And even though the situation had suddenly complicated itself, he couldn't help but look at you and want you even more.

"I... " you blushed softly "I really like you, Peter, and this won't ruin that but...Fuck"

He peaked between his fingers, starting to try and figure out what you meant.

"I desperately want you Peter, can we discuss this tomorrow morning?"

Needy and almost touch starved, you took the steps separating yourself from him and sat on his inviting lap.

"Fuck... Yes, yes we can. Please"

He instantly took it right where he left off, but taking no regret on pushing your shirt out of the way.

"You're gorgeous" he muttered, his fingers burning to touch you more "Can I...?"

"You can do whatever you want to me." you stated. He let out a needy gasp at your words, and went right into taking your bra off.

You could feel yourself getting wet as your eyes couldn't help but look at him. His fingers were tracing every inch of your naked skin, worshipping you; as if you were so frail his touch could break you.

And you wanted him to.

"Fuck, I don't even know where to begin" he said, entranced by the view. There it was again, the look of disbelief that now you understood; he couldn't understand how you were real, how someone so great could be right in front of his eyes, under his touch "I just... I want to make you feel so good."

His grip focused on your thighs once more, surrounding his torso with your legs and pulling quickly so you wouldn't be sitting on him on top of the arm rest anymore, but laying down on the soft pillows of your couch.

By the movement, his erection was making direct contact with your panties, and you could take a good guess on how much he was enjoying this too.

"Can I taste you?" The doubt in your eyes was cleared once he followed: "Please"

His eyes were dark, his pupils dilated. He needed to have your pussy on his tongue.

You nodded shyly, opening your legs to welcome him. He almost came just by the view.

He caressed your soft thighs, his fingers travelling to the mild bruises he had just provoked. You couldn't help yourself when your hips jerked upwards, dying for him to touch you.

"I'm going to take good care of you, okay?"

He traced your skin from your shoulder to your panties, starting to play with the edge of it. And just as you felt yourself move to feel him, his mouth left a kiss on your lower tummy.

Peter was soft, he was gentle, but overall, he knew what he wanted, and he wanted to break you. He wanted to get you to the point where you would be begging for him. And so the trail of wet and frail kisses was all over you, avoiding any pleasurable spot but getting close enough to have you a sobbing mess.

However, Peter was human. He could tease you for a long time, but not as much as he wanted, because even if he thought you'd look ethereal pleading for him to finally be inside you, his whole body was also begging for him to do it.

His mouth finally reached your breasts and his tongue circled around your nipple. You moaned and his hips bucked into yours with a need to be closer to you.

In a matter of seconds he had marked you up, left you with dark purple bruises everywhere. He couldn't help it, it was the easiest way to contain himself and please you at the same time.

His hand traveled into your panties, desperately pulling them down your legs. Between your agitated heartbeat and your strong scent, he needed nothing but just a confirmation to know what you wanted.

"Peter, please."

He moaned against you, incorporating himself at the level of your femininity. Between seeing you all vulnerable, and how wet you actually were, dripping for him, Peter chose not to make you beg.

He left a wet kiss on each side of your inner thigh and drove himself into eating you out. His eyes closed as his tongue made its way on your folds, to your clit. Then, you cried out his name.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck..." You saw his hands reaching into your thighs and pulling closer to him "Fuck, please keep doing that..."

He hummed against you, making you close your thighs and arch your back in the prettiest way. He loved it.

"A-ah! Wait-" A tingling sensation, almost like a burning but oh, so pleasant, came over you. Your legs were suddenly shaking, and you were sure you were reaching a breaking point. "Baby, I think I'm gonna cum..."

Peter didn't separate from you until your trembling stopped, and kept going just a bit longer in case you hadn't reached your climax.

Once you could finally see his whole face, mouth glistening with your cum, he teased you. "Baby, huh?"

He licked his lips, but you weren't able to answer. Your legs would still shake from time to time and he didn't seem like he was over with you yet.

"I like the nicknames" he whispered, getting on top of you "You should keep thinking of new ones, while I make you cum again, would you?"

Your lips trembled before you could say anything, and once more he was kissing you.

His thumb quickly reached your overly sensitive clit, and dragged itself down your folds to come back up once more.

"Or you can just moan my name, love. I like it either way"

But he didn't abuse the small bundle of nerves; you felt his finger reach into your entrance and the need for permission written all over his face.

"Can I...?"

"Yes, please..."

The finger slid inside easily, Peter was dying from the tightness and the warmth radiating inside of you. He wanted to feel you surrounding his cock and pulling him inside over and over. He wanted to stretch you out for him and feel you cum around him.

"God" he groaned, sliding another finger inside. "Love, I really want to fuck you..."

Your hips bucked upwards once more. He used his other hand to keep them grounded.

"You want me to move them faster, baby?" Peter asked. You nodded, he bit his lip "Be a good for me and say it."

"P-please, I want you to move them faster..."

"That's my girl."

His fingers went in and out of you quickly, with the slick sound of your wet folds. He reached down his pants and palmed himself through, in painful need of touch.

Once you were ready enough to have a third finger inside you, and your body started trembling like he was noticing it did when you were close, he ran out of patience. The steady pace became messy, rough. You cried out how good it felt and the curling of his fingers finally made you see white.

He surprised himself on how loud he made you cum, you were almost embarrassed from yelling his name so much.

"Okay, maybe you're not so quiet..." he joked.

And you let yourself rest there for a few seconds, until you saw him standing up and reaching for your shirt.

You frowned, he smiled.

"What?"

"I haven't even... I want you to fuck me!"

Biting his lip, and tentatively considering it, Peter located itself between your bent legs and put his hands on your knees. "Love, you already came twice, don't you think you're being a little greedy?" he joked, but you could hear a mild nervousness shine through the teasing.

"I want to make you cum." you answered, leaving your shyness aside "And I want to feel you inside me when you do so"

He breathed in, shaking and pulling you close once more "Are you sure?"

"Yes, Peter, I'm sure."

His lip trembled before he roughly kissed you. As if he was waiting for you to ask this whole time. His hands groped you desperately, finally losing himself on the way you were naked in front of him.

You felt the denim against your sensitive cunt and you yelped. He mumbled something, directing his shaky hands to messily unbutton his jeans. "I really want to fuck you... I really want to feel you, wanna' be inside you so bad..."

Yanking you into him from the grip on your thighs, Peter let you feel his naked length rubbing between your folds.

"Fuck, I need you Y/N."

He directed his cock into your entrance, rubbing softly and looking up at you for once final confirmation. Your face only told him how much you wanted this too.

He finally let himself in.

"Ah, baby..." you whined in anticipation, wanting to feel the rest right away but being held back by the burning stretch.

"Y/N, you're so tight" he spoke helplessly "Fuck, you were made for me."

And, even if he was dying to feel more, he kept his pace slow and gentle. He hated the thought of hurting you, but his body was screaming for him to just rail you.

"Shit, Peter, you can be rougher on me" you laughed between whines, not expecting his hips to immediately crash into yours.

"Love..." He kissed your cheek, trailing down into your neck.

He felt your hands caressing his back, but as his cock drove in and out of you, desperately looking for the same pleasure he gave you, the soft touches changed into your nails digging on his skin.

It didn't bother him, but the thought crossed his mind, and he just needed to take your wrists and keep them over your head.

"Baby, there's no need to hurt me... I'm giving you what you want" he teased you with a breathy tone.

He kissed your forehead and went back to abuse the weak spots on your neck.

The thought of you was becoming too much. Feeling you, and realizing he had the girl of his dreams at his will was overwhelming.

And he couldn't keep his composure, he just needed to feel all of you.

"Do you mind if I, you know, use these to trap your hands there?" he inquired, stopping his movements to signal at his webshooters on his wrists "I really, really want to feel your pretty body and your hands are kinda... Getting on my way."

Agreeing, the next thing you knew was that Peter wasn't taking his hands off of your skin. He pressed his fingers onto your hips and thrusted deep enough for your body to react.

Fuck, he was big.

"Fuck, baby, you feel so good..." he groaned. "I really just want to see make a mess, wanna make you cum on my cock, do you think you can do that?"

"Y-yes, Peter-"

He bit his lip, getting a hand on the crook of your neck to direct himself inside of you while the other had two fingers circling tightly on your clit.

He knew he wasn't going to last longer, but he needed to make you cum first. He wanted you to tighten around him, and between the wet and skin to skin sounds, you were sure you weren't lasting much longer either.

"Ah-! I love you!" you heard yourself yell, and you felt your orgasm rushed over you once more.

It was enough to take him over the edge, making him cum and fill you up from the inside.

His breath was rushed, his forehead resting over yours. And when a few minutes had gone by and you were sure he hadn't heard you, Peter said:

"Did you mean it?"

"What?"

"Promise me you weren't just saying that because you were getting fucked out."

The serious look on his face intimidated you, but did you love Peter? That was probably one of the easiest questions you could ever answer.

"I promise."

Peter bit his lip, letting his head fall beside you. "Fuck, I really, really love you too" he whined "What took me so long to take you out on a date?!"

"Oh, it was probably the suit... You know, being Spider-Man is kind of a big deal" He looked back at you, terrified "Yes Peter, I haven't forgotten about that."

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