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pesewla · 4 years

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Thank you for the request, @bout-to-snap <3

“This is why I don’t trust him!” Mu Qing fumed. “He’s literally the Lord of the Ghost Realm, Your Highness…”

Xie Lian allowed a small, relaxed smile to grace his lips. He was mediating a fight between Mu Qing, Feng Xin, and Hua Cheng for what seemed like the thousandth time. Though newly renovated, Puqi Shrine was still too small for these massive quarrels, and Xie Lian dreaded the property damage that would ensue if their swords were drawn.

Given all that had happened – the destruction of the heavens and defeat of Jun Wu – why were these three still at each other’s throats?

“I thought we were past this,” Xie Lian sighed. “We don’t get to see each other all the time, so can we please not fight?”

“Exactly, we don’t see get to see each other all the time, so can’t we talk to you in private?” Feng Xin said, fidgeting a little.

Xie Lian looked confused. “About what?”

“You expect me to walk away when you’ve just called me the scum of the earth?” Hua Cheng said coolly, examining his nails. “Gege, these servants are no good.”

“We’re not his servants!” Mu Qing exclaimed. Xie Lian thought it sounded like he was about to say “anymore” at the end, but cut off his speech abruptly, making the outburst awkward and clunky.

“Are you sure?” Hua Cheng asked skeptically. “Because when you’re with him, it’s like 800 years never happened, you can be his ever-most-loyal-servants again. The roleplaying is disgusting, and doesn’t absolve you from guilt.”

Xie Lian sensed the atmosphere in the shrine shift. He stepped forward again and raised his hands placatingly. “San Lang – “

“And what would you know?” Feng Xin demanded. “You can’t possibly understand what we’ve been through, at the time you were merely a mortal child.”

“I understand that you abandoned Dianxia when he was most vuln –“

“San Lang,” Xie Lian said. Hua Cheng’s lips instantly froze at the warning in Xie Lian’s tone; it was a lilt and a dangerous flavor that Xie Lian hardly used on anyone, and never on Hua Cheng.

“…”

“Why can’t they know, gege?” Hua Cheng asked softly. “Don’t you think they deserve to know? Frankly, their ignorance offends me.”

Feng Xin and Mu Qing had fallen silent, too, their faces both a few shades lighter. The word abandon seemed to always have that effect on them. Then Feng Xin regained his voice. “Ignor – know what? Taizi Dianxia, just what…”

Xie Lian had folded his arms, his mouth drawn into a line. “It’s old history,” he sighed. “There’s no need to bring things like this up. Do not shame me.”

“Shame you? When that came to visit you, he dismissed your fears as insan –“

Hua Cheng’s voice cut off for a moment, and the temperature in Puqi Shrine seemed to drop. Because, at that moment, an expression entirely foreign to Xie Lian flitted across his face: rage. Neither Mu Qing nor Feng Xin had seen him make that expression since his third ascension, and it didn’t suit him well.

It was gone as soon as it arrived, and Xie Lian’s characteristically peaceful smile returned in its stead. However, the faces of his two ex-subordinates were already white as sheets. Hua Cheng stepped toward, placing a hand on Xie Lian’s shoulder as if to hold him up.

“Dianxia, are you mad… at us?” Feng Xin whispered.

Xie Lian looked at him strangely, as if he had asked a very bizarre question indeed. “No… Not you.”

Hua Cheng snorted, as if he was thinking, too bad. Xie Lian’s face was soft. “In any case, I’m quite tired, so I think I will retire for the night. Please make yourselves at home.”

“Wh – you can’t – after –“ Mu Qing sputtered.

Feng Xin’s eyes were round. “Dianxia, does that mean… That time with White No-Face, when we were on the run… Was it really…?”

Xie Lian had started towards his chambers, but after being addressed, his shoulders tightened infinitesimally. Then, he turned back to the trio, his face still serene. “Yes.”

As if he’d been punched in the gut, Feng Xin slouched over. Mu Qing looked baffled.

“I didn’t tell you this because I knew you’d blame yourself. Yet, in the end, the only one who sinned was me. So, please, do not inquire further into this matter.”

With a nod and another smile, Xie Lian vanished into the back room, anxious to escape the conversation.

Feng Xin and Mu Qing were bursting with indescribable emotion. Some small part of Feng Xin fumed at Xie Lian for leaving them without explaining, but the rest of him just wallowed in a torrent of guilt, doubt, and self-questioning.

If the Taizi Dianxia wouldn’t tell them the truth, who would? Xie Lian had been abandoned with only his parents, who were long dead, so who besides him even knew what happened? The only people must be Jun Wu himself, and –

“Don’t look at me,” Hua Cheng rolled his eyes, leaning lazily against a chair. “I’m not going behind gege’s back for some backstabbing servants.”

“You’re the one who said we deserve to know,” Mu Qing argued.

“So? It’s gege’s story to tell, and he said no, so no.”

“How do you even know?”

Hua Cheng shrugged. “I was just ghost fire at the time. I had to watch.”

The corners of his eyes tightened, and a murderous look crossed his face. Unlike Xie Lian, his malice wasn’t bottled away, but instead broadcast for all to see.

“Watch what?” Feng Xin cried in anguish. “Why must you torture us?”

Hua Cheng snickered. “If only you knew your own irony.”

With that, he straightened and glided in Xie Lian’s direction, back towards the sleeping chambers.

“We – we’ll be back tomorrow!” Feng Xin and Mu Qing shouted at his receding back. Hua Cheng shrugged again.

That night, Hua Cheng was holding Xie Lian in his arms, and casually said, “Gege, this is what you did with Lang Qianqiu, too.” It wasn’t an accusation – it was never an accusation, just a comment.

Xie Lian exhaled. “I know.”

Hua Cheng’s voice grew husky. “Isn’t it enough that you suffered alone then, why must you be alone now, too? Why must you save everyone secretly, then endure their collective ridicule?” Then, “Is keeping it a secret truly doing anyone good?”

Xie Lian was silent. “Maybe I don’t have a good reason,” he finally said. “I don’t like thinking about it, really. I’m weak.”

“…”

“Although, looking back on it, I can’t believe that cute little ghost fire was you,” Xie Lian laughed. “You’d barely popped up and you already had a little cult following, so adorable!”

Hua Cheng grinned, but it was pained, like he couldn’t remember that period of his existence without discomfort. He said nothing, but his grip around Xie Lian tightened, like he was afraid of letting go.

Xie Lian noticed, and, after a beat of silence, shut his eyes. “I’ll think about it, okay?”

Feng Xin and Mu Qing would not give up. Day after day, they visited Xie Lian, demanding answers, so after months of heckling, Xie Lian finally agreed to explain what had happened all those years ago. When Xie Lian, Hua Cheng, Feng Xin, and Mu Qing sat down in Paradise Manor, Hua Cheng started talking first, trying to alleviate Xie Lian’s burden.

“…He’d wailed and screamed and cried and begged for mercy, but the people, having deemed him a sinner, continued without hesitation. Of course, his sinfulness was merely an excuse to save their own skin…”

“…After one hundred fatal strikes, Dianxia laid on his own altar, disfigured beyond recognition. Nothing more than a pile of flesh.”

Feng Xin was not the type to cry. So, when his eyes grew wet and then started streaming, Xie Lian hurriedly waved off Hua Cheng’s stone-faced words.

“Feng Xin, this was hundreds of years ago,” Xie Lian assured him, patting his shoulder. “It’s not sad anymore. Also, I’ve endured worse since then.”

This aggravated Feng Xin even further, and he looked like he wanted to cry some more. “I just can’t… when I imagine it, I can’t help it…”

“Trust me, whatever you’re imagining, it was five million times worse in real time,” Hua Cheng muttered darkly. He stared at Xie Lian with an odd expression, before languidly pulling him into his embrace.

Feng Xin looked like he wanted to rebuke, but in the end, could not. Thus, he motioned for the story to continue.

Xie Lian skimmed over his recovery period, the reformation of his flesh, and Feng Xin’s departure, but before he was in the clear, he was interrupted.

“So that’s why you asked me to leave?” Feng Xin said incredulously.

“There was no need to pull you down with me,” Xie Lian murmured.

“I thought you’d gone insane,” Feng Xin mumbled, nauseated. “I told your mother and father… I left you…”

Describing what happened to his parents was even harder, and when he finally got to saying how he’d put his own head in the noose, eyes filling with blood and collarbone cracking, Mu Qing jumped up.

“DAMN IT,” he roared, picking up a glass and shattering it against the nearest wall. “Damn it, damn it, damn it, Dianxia! What the actual fuck?”

Xie Lian peered at him. “Please don’t break San Lang’s things,” he tried.

“WHAT DO I FUCKING CARE? FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, TAIZI DIANXIA, HOW COULD YOU KEEP SOMETHING LIKE THIS FROM US?” Mu Qing was panting, and Feng Xin was staring off into space, eyes empty. “WE COULD’VE HELPED! IF I’D HAVE KNOWN, I’D HAVE –“

“Come back?” Xie Lian questioned lightly. “Followed me until the end?”

There was a deafening silence.

“No… I wanted you both to break free,” Xie Lian said. “You had a future.”

“SO DID YOU!” Feng Xin cried, broken from his trance. “Why… why did all this… why must it happen to you?”

“For that, I have no answer,” Xie Lian said. “But, if it had to happen to anyone, I’m glad it happened to me.”

Feng Xin and Mu Qing looked like they’d been shattered into a million pieces. Xie Lian said ruefully, “This is why I didn’t want to tell you.”

Mu Qing rushed forward. “GODDAMN IT, THE FACT THAT I DIDN’T KNOW ABOUT IT IS EVEN WORSE! WHY DIDN’T YOU ASK FOR HELP? YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO USE US, RELY ON US, THAT WAS OUR FUCKING JOB AND WE…”

“At the time, you were ganging up with Middle Court lackeys to chase him out of spiritual lands,” Hua Cheng remarked icily, pulling Xie Lian closer to him.

Mu Qing appeared stupefied, like Hua Cheng had just slapped him. “San Lang!” Xie Lian admonished. Mu Qing sat back down.

Both Feng Xin and Mu Qing both looked like they wanted to protest more, but Xie Lian continued with the story before they could. When he described donning the white mask and preparing to unleash the Human Face Disease, both of them seemed to hold their breath. Hua Cheng described his rebirth as a ghost soldier, following Xie Lian’s commands but never believing that he would truly commit the atrocity.

Feng Xin was regarding him with something that almost looked like newfound respect, but Mu Qing turned his head.

The rest was all downhill from there. He described laying on the pavement for days on end, and the one farmer who’d salvaged his faith in human goodness.

“To anyone else, thousands of onlookers ignoring your pain and suffering before one did anything shouldn’t reinforce your faith in anything…” Mu Qing muttered.

Xie Lian pressed forward, practically sprinting through the unleashed Human Face Disease, taking the brunt of the curses, and then Hua Cheng dying for him for the second time. He talked about ascending into heaven, and asking Jun Wu to punish him for his wrongdoings using banishment and cursed shckles.

“…DIANXIA?!?” Feng Xin gasped. “IT WASN’T A MURDEROUS RAMPAGE?”

“Nope!” Xie Lian said cheerily, relief crossing his face as if he was pleased to be done talking.

Mu Qing’s face darkened, and he started swearing again. “I WAS FUCKING WONDERING HOW SOMEONE AS TALENTED AS YOU SPENDS 800 YEARS TRYING TO ASCEND, IT WAS ON FUCKING PURPOSE? FUCKING FUCK, I WANT TO STRANGLE SOMETHING! SOMEONE GIVE ME SOMETHING TO BREAK!” He clomped off in a random direction.

Feng Xin’s face looked shadowed over, too. “Here I was wondering how you suddenly had such bad luck. As Crown Prince, you’d never had something so egregious. Now, learning that you asked for it… it all makes sense.” His hands were clenched into tight fists, and his words turned into cries. “Why… why… why… for 800 years, we felt… we waited, we were waiting, for something, and we thought maybe you’d died, or gone crazy, or vanished… We…”

Xie Lian had approached him, and put both hands on his shoulders. It was an old, but familiar gesture, and Feng Xin’s heart immediately squeezed with pain and regret. He was at a loss for words, and everything seemed wretched.

“Feng Xin, I understand your anguish,” Xie Lian said softly. “But I became very close to becoming that thing which I swore to destroy. And, to be honest, at that point I didn’t care much for godhood. I lost everything because of godhood. What I couldn’t stand to lose was myself, not to that monster, not to anyone. So, please understand. I’m sorry I hurt you, but it was necessary.”

“WHY DO YOU HAVE TO BE SO FUCKING GOOD?” Mu Qing roared, coming to stand next to Feng Xin. “WHY CAN’T YOU EVER BE SELFISH?”

Xie Lian chuckled, and Mu Qing covered his mouth, as if the words had escaped by their own volition. “…I wasn’t being good, I was scared.”

Mu Qing swore more. Feng Xin, on the other hand, fell to his knees, his shoulders trembling. So, Xie Lian acted on impulse, pulling Mu Qing down to the ground, too. Xie Lian then wrapped one arm around Feng Xin, and the other around Mu Qing, enveloping the both of them in a hug.

“I’m sorry,” Xie Lian murmured again, trying to control their trembling. He couldn’t tell, at this point, if it was only Feng Xin, or if it was Mu Qing too.

“We failed. I failed,” Feng Xin said, and his voice was raw with agony. “Why are you apologizing?”

“It wasn’t fair to either of you… but I loved you very much, and it was like you were shackled to a man descending to the bottom of a lagoon. If I didn’t remove your chains, you would’ve drowned too.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, holy shit, I’m so sorry,” Feng Xin said, almost gasping through the words. He looked as though someone had drawn a sword across his Adam’s apple, and he was choking through the blood. “Taizi Dianxia, I’m sorry. I failed.”

“Don’t be so damn self-sacrificing, Your Highness.” It was Mu Qing, this time, and he wasn’t struggling against the embrace. “Every single fucking time. Disgusting. How can we even stop you? Something like this. Damnit.”

“I’m a bit tougher than I look,” Xie Lian assured him. “Drowning is no big deal. Pain will subside. Embarrassment will fade. And look, I’m very happy now.”

From somewhere far away, Hua Cheng laughed slightly. However, even Mu Qing and Feng Xin, who weren’t well acquainted with him, could hear that it was laced with pain, too.

“I’m sorry. I wanted to stay with you,” Feng Xin said. “I wanted to stay, I trusted you unequivocally, you’re my world. But it scared me…”

Xie Lian smiled. “I know. You didn’t have to say anything. Ever since you came to help me at Yu Jun Mountain, I’ve known. And I’m grateful.”

“Stop being so damn forgiving.” Mu Qing’s voice was muffled by Xie Lian’s robes.

“Why? I forgive you.” Mu Qing and Feng Xin seemed to collapse in on themselves. So Xie Lian repeated, “I forgive you.”

No one moved for a long time. The trembling intensified. “You’re so damn forgiving,” Mu Qing mumbled. “It doesn’t mean a thing…”

And yet, they were not willing to break away.

Even after 800 years, Mu Qing and Feng Xin didn’t think that they would ever get used to being dazzled by the Crown Prince.

#this kinda turned into a whole-ass fanfiction so I might post on ao3 too #literally the thought of this makes me cry #it shoulda happened in canon #pain central #hualian #fengqing #mu qing #feng xin #heaven official's blessing #hob #tgcf #tian guan ci fu #xie lian #hua cheng #xian le trio #xianle trio

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kalinawtokilig · 4 years

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S/O who gets into fights

Pair(s) : Sugawara Koushi x Reader, Yaku Morisuke x Reader, Akaashi Keiji x Reader, Iwaizumi Hajime x Reader, Semi Eita x Reader

Ohoh, boi good luck.

Summary:

It’s not uncommon for you to get into a fight, as you don’t look nor act the type. You don’t ask to get into a fight nor provoke, you simply attract trouble, (Oh, a problem child,,) But if this person (or people) are talking smack about you, you bet your bum that you’re gonna sit down and let them. Nah, you put’em up. Warning? You ARE the WARNING.

Sugawara Koushi x Reader

((I love and pimp him. Pimp pimp pimp))

He hears it from Yachi. More like, the team does and Nishinoya and Tanaka are ready to throw some hands.

During practice, Yachi, the sweet girl, poor her; she sees you having an intense argument with two other third years when she comes to refill on water bottles.

She knows you, talking to you a couple of times. You were always a sweet upperclassman, kind and soft to her and the team, even Kageyama and Tsukishima showed you respect in your presence.

But when one of them swung the first punch to your face, you bet she dropped everything and hauled ass to the gym to call over your boyfriend.

Sugawara. Ah, yes, the duality of this man. I would say unpredictable, cause some say he’s the responsible type to stop the fight by finding a teacher and others say he’ll unleash Tanaka and Nishinoya.

I say, he’s the type to KNOW who you are and WHAT you are capable of. Yes, he can join in the fight, but last time he saw you fight someone he was unaware and baffled that you are able to land solid one punch (( WANNA BE SAIKYU HEROOO)) and knock’em out. Nah, he’s the type to collect the aftermath and try to bury the evidence ((What a sweet boyfie <3 ))

“Suga-san! (Y/N)-san i-is in a fight a-and I think they need help!” She screeches, catching the attention of the team members.

“Ah, I’ll be back. Gotta collect the corpses.”

Asahi, Hinata, and Yachi nearly pass out when he says that. “Corpses? (Y/N)-san killed them that quick? And Sugawara is the accessory???”

When he finally reaches you, though he knows you’re capable of standing your ground, he can’t help but worry the bruises and cuts on you. You may be able to keep standing, but that doesn’t mean you can avoid ALL their hits.

When he sees your figure, his fingers dig deep into his palms. “(Y/N)?” He calls out to you. You’re huffing and you straighten your back, turning to face him you smile lovingly to him. “Yes, Darling?”

He may simp for you but that doesn’t mean he can’t lecture you.

Sighing, he crouches to the two fools who decided to provoke you and talks to them in that tone where you can’t speak because you’re scared of what they’re capable of. He says that he’ll be watching them closely and that if they mention their S/O beating them up, not only will they all get suspended but Sugawara will make sure they’ll never face pride or regain their HONOR back. (ayye zuko wassup ?)

Standing up, he looks to you and holds your hands as gingerly as possibly, observing the irritated redness on your knuckles and the splotches of small red bloody dots. His nose scrunches cutely as one hand lets go of yours to cup your face carefully because of the now forming bruise on your pretty face.

Sighing, he smiles, brows furrowed, “Sugar, next time, go easy on them. I don’t want your pretty hands to be so messed up. I love you and I don’t mind bandaging them up and kissing them to make you feel better, but I feel the more you punch the more your hands’ll fall off. Then who am I supposed to hold hands with?”

You can’t help but crack a joke, “Ah yes, losing Daichi and me in the same year, my poor Darling~!” You coo to him.

“You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“Oi!”

Yaku Morisuke x Reader

((Babie,, cat babie ,,, dangerous babiee,,))

While the fiery, third-year, libero of Nekoma dislikes Lev, you absolutely cherish the tall boy and found him cute.

Kuroo makes fun of Yaku saying you should date Lev instead

then you retorted to the rooster head saying that it’ll be weird cause Lev is basically a little brother you’ve always wanted.

One day, after school, while your boyfie was at practice, you were on cleaning duty and overheard some students talking about your two favorite people.

They made fun Lev and then Yaku. They absolutely insulted him for his height and his plays while they made fun of Lev’s intelligence and lack of plays.

And they chose D E A T H

“Hah? Whatcha say?!”

Commence a brawl

You could’ve used the broomstick by breaking it in half and shanking them but you wanted them to know not to die JUST yet.

You were able to leave satisfied yet still pissed. The other students didn’t speak a peep, as to know not to mess with your temper and if they were a snitch, well, snitches get popped.

for the ones who talked smack, you both came to the conclusion to say that you guys were playing too rough with the cleaning supplies

When practice was over, you waited by the gate for your boyfie

Seeing him, you smiled at him and he came up to you, flicking your jaw

“Ow! Love, what was that for? You’re not give your soldier a loving and tender hug for defending you and our child’s honor?” You pouted cutely to him.

His eyes widened a bit, a pink blush on his face until he squinted his eyes at you. “You got into a fight, again.”

“All in good nature, babe!” You stuck out your tongue to him, surprisingly he stuck out his tongue, to lick you with his own.

“Wha-”

“As much as I love you, you’re lucky that I wasn’t there or I would’ve killed you too to get rid of the evidence.”

“...Aw! You love me so much that you’ll clean my messes, I love you too, Morisuke!”

“...I love you too, you frickin idiot.”

Akaashi Keiji x Reader

(Ayyeee back at it again, Akaashi-kun, how ya doin?)

Akaashi may be a patient man, but this man can hold his patience with a sharp knife and cut it instantly

It was your movie date and while you waited for Akaashi to get popcorn and snacks, your saw one of your best friends.

You went up to say hi until you heard them talk bad about you, saying how Akaashi is only dating you to keep an eye on you or how you’re too naive that they obviously don’t want you cause you’re too clingy

with the cold, freezing, slushie, you ‘accidentally’ trip and spill it all over your now ex-bestie

like your bestie, that two-faced bih doesn’t go down without a fight

so basically this was your break-up fight

As he bandages your hands, you were too nervous to speak to him

You weren’t afraid of anything, not failing, not teachers or authority, nor suspencion

Though, you were very afraid of Akaashi’s silent temper

“Ah, Love-”

Pretty boy looks at you so quick you flinch for the upcoming lecture yet he says nothing which makes it even more scary for what he’ll say

“Are you mad at me?” You ask cutely, pouting and looking through your lashes while your head is down in shame

After a couple of minutes waiting for his answer, he sighs

“Blossom, you know how concerned I get when you get into fights. It...” He looks away, “hurts me to see you hurt...I love you a lot that I’m mad at myself that I wasn’t there to help you.” He confesses with a red tint spreading to the tips of his ears.

Oh dear LORD this man continues to speak heavenly got ME swooning-

“I should’ve known that friend of yours wasn’t true to you...I’m sorry I couldn’t see that. If you want, we can have Kenma pirate the movie and send us the link. Better than going out, right?”

((THIS MAN HAS THE AUDACITY TO SMILE LIKE A FRICKIN GOD AHW I HATE IT HERE))

Your eyes sparkle and you launch to hug him, he lets out s strangled yelp as he falls back onto the bed

Though easy to get into fights, you were easy to cry, as you were emotional to these kinds of things

“AGHAAHHSHI I LOVE YOU I FRICKIN HATE YOU CAUSE YOURE SO PERFECT UWAYWHH” ((omg me))

Chuckling, he buries his head into the crook of your neck, one hand on your side and the other petting your hair

“I love you too, blossom”

Iwaizumi Hajime x Reader

((YEES YES YES YES I STAN AND I PIMP ,, PIMP PIMP PIMMP)))

((LOOK AT HIM LOOK AT. HIM.))

What a cactus. Don’t we stan?

I stan. I totally stan.

When you get into a fight this man KNOWS he’s most likely gonna watch to see if there is any bih to try to hit you while you’re busy fUCKING UP WITH OTHERS WHO MESSED WITH YA

Iwaizumi is literally the chillest ngl

Will probably join if some CUNT ASS BIH decides to pull ya hair or pick up some petty stick to beat you with it

((the more i write at 4:30 AM, the more my mind expands to more fight scenarios ohohhhh get ready my friends))

Literally the toughest couple

no cap, no one will mess with you unless they’re tryna get f’d in the a in the most unpleasurable way (omg that rhymes)

Oikawa makes funny and teasing jokes about how you both look so intimidating that you’ll get wrinkles on your faces

“Keep barking, Oikawa, cause I can make sure my kicks can knock off that bitchy attitude <3″

“Why are you and Iwa-chan like this.”

“Lmao get wrecked Trashykawa.”

Sometimes you act like Oikawa’s guard too, the fans know of your rep around school, so they don’t bother Oikawa as much which means Iwaizumi doesn’t have to spike volleyballs at his head so they can head to practice without any distractions ((Though Iwa still does it when Oikawa gets too flirty when thanking you))

Omg I can go forever with Iwa holleeeeemolleee

I feel,, that when he’s bandaging up your face, your cleaning the cuts on his....chest.... n’ biceps,,,oof to be you...

I feel like getting into fights can also count as a date

how fun would that be

talking about your fight date with him in front of other ppl who don’t really know you

I imagine you and iwa-babes talking and you’re like, staring so lovingly at his face and reach to touch the cut above his lip and you’re reminiscing

“Babes, remember when we fought those two losers at the parking lot of a Target?”

“Oh yeah, I remember that. That dickbag got his ass handed to you, nice right hook by the way.”

Then the strangers RUDELY overhearing are like ‘Wth??? is this?? real?? did they actually fight two people?’

You did.

Oikawa posted it.

Semi Eita x Reader

((Grey haired babes hit different, y’know?))

he’ll just be >:|

I can’t say he’ll be mad at you, but more like, concerned that his face looks mad

The same with Akaashi, you’re waiting for him to lecture you, but he’s quiet when he’s...worried,,concerned

You got into a fight because some BIHS from another sports team talked shit about the volleyball team, SPECIFICALLY your boyfie (how convenient for the plot)

You may be smol but you have HELLFIRE

“AYE WANNA SAY IT TO MY FACE MUTHA-”

Long story short,,, you may have won the battle, but you are unsure if the war will reign supreme, by war I mean you’re preparing for Semi’s scolding

Waiting in his dorm room, you played the soundtrack he made for you and patiently waited until he came back from practice

When HE DOES come from practice, he opened the door to see you sleeping on the floor, back against his bed and when he was going to quietly coo at how cute you look, he gets a closer look at the split lip and bruised knuckles

...You have...a tampon shoved up your nose?

“Muse. Bubs.” He cups your cheek, then patting it gently.

When you wake up, you jump back

“BUBs, beh, listen, I, may have done something to someone out of provocation and insults whereas I also defended not only myself-” You wince at he narrows his lovely eyes at you, peering for you to go on (omg you frickin simp)

“I have protected you and your team from their,, falsehoods”

(Why are you talking like that lmao)

He blinks once. twice. going to his bathroom, he gets the first aid kid he ALWAYS had to restock because his babes CANT STOP GETTING INTO FIGHTS so he can patch you up

“I love you, but we can take their idiocy, it’s just your idiocy I’m worried about...” He continues on, then he starts to listen to the music you’re playing

you’re playing one of his playlists he made for you

specifically, “When I’m with You <3″

He becomes flustered and you wonder if HE’S okay

“Sh-Shut up, stupid! Stop getting into fights!”

#akaashi x reader #akaashi x you #akaashi keji x reader #sugawara x reader #sugawara x you #sugawara koshi x reader #yaku x reader #yaku morisuke x reader #yaku morisuke x you #iwaizumi x you #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi hajime x you #semi eita x you #semi eita x reader #semi x you #semi x reader

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ithinkilikeit-reactions · 4 years

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Accidents and artwork (Jongho/Smut)

Ateez Masterlist Group Masterlist

A/N: So basically, I wrote this from an artists perspective. I wrote it with my experiences and processes I have seen so bare with me.

Also the smut in this story is definitely not the main focus at all, it’s a whole story

Tags: Fem reader x Jongho, Highschool au!, Wrestler x art student, Teenagers being awkward, cute letter confessions, scatterbrained artist, stress relieving, pretty soft sex, pretty vanilla, just wholesome teen romance? virgin reader x Jongho, fingering, praise

Word count: 9520 words (longest thing I’ve ever written)

Week 1

How Jongho ended up in the art room surrounded by paint covered canvases and confused students, he didn’t really know. He didn’t understand how such a big mistake could be made, wrestling and art class were very different things. However here he was at art class and not wrestling like he should have been.

“Take a seat, Mr. Choi. You’re late.” The teacher said, snapping him out of his thoughts as he scanned the room. “Ah, I’m sorry. There was a mix up and I was in the office. I will only be here temporarily until a spot on the wrestling team opens up.” Jongho explained, the other students in the room scanning him up and down.

Everyone had heard about the athlete prodigy that was transferring to your school, how a mix-up like this could happen was really baffling. But it happened and you were now sitting in the corner, watching him look at the empty seat next to you.

“Temporary or not, you’re going to need a seat.” Your teacher said sharply. Mrs. Kim always was sharp of the tongue. You watched him bow politely and make his way to the stool next to yours.

Jongho had only been at school a few days but had already gained immense popularity, being the new kid and the star athlete really helped. This popularity was intimidating to you, not ever really being one for wanting the spotlight per say. It took a certain type of person to enjoy the popularity, not that that was bad, no it was just different. You had respect for all types of people around your highschool, everyone was just trying to make their four years work... some more successfully than others.

“Now as I was explaining, this duo project will be worth 75% of your semester grade. There is no theme, I just want to see harmony between two artists in the piece.” Mrs. Kim explained. That was something you admired about her teaching method. There was never a box to be put in, she allowed artists to be artists and it was refreshing.

One by one you and Jongho watched your classmates find partners, silently. “Ma’am, I won’t be in this class long. I wouldn’t want to not be able to finish a project and leave a student hanging.” Jongho explained, voice incredibly sincere. He would hate to think that someone would fail because of him. “That will just have to be something you figure out with your partner. Is Y/N your partner?” Your name coming out of her mouth caught you off guard and you looked up.

Jongho looked at you and looked at him, before looking back to your teacher and back to eachother again. An awkward silence was definitely lingering in the air as he tried to find the words once he noticed you didn’t have a partner. “Only if she wants to be... I would hate to be a burden.” His voice was soft as he looked at you, anxiously awaiting your response.

“It seem Ms. Y/N doesn’t have a partner so she doesn’t quite have a choice. You two will work together, it’s settled.” There goes that sharp tongue again, you cursed mentally.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to work with Jongho, not at all. He seemed like a sweet guy but you already felt like you were at a disadvantage before hand. Your art seemed to be lacking as of late and you were questioning what direction you were going in, it was an internal struggle that left a negative mark on your art. Now you had the possibility of having to help someone alot and not to be rude, it was a disadvantage.

“Everyone start planning your projects, quietly though. No need to give me a headache before noon.” Jongho pulled his stool closer to you and smiled slightly. He knew you probably didn’t want him as a partner and he could understand why, Jongho knew he had 0 drawing/painting experience.

“I’m sorry.” Jongho said, making you look up at him. There was an apologetic look on his face and you could tell he felt bad. But he had no reason too, this wasn’t his fault. You could work through it, like you mentioned before: everyone was just trying to make their four years work.

“It’s really okay. Let’s just work together and make something cool. We’ll manage.” You comforted him in the best way you could, because you were nervous yourself. If he was already apologizing before even really doing anything, how was this project going to turn out?

“Uhm, do you have any art experience or anything similar?” You asked, hoping that he might have a grain of visual artistic talent. “I’m sorry, no. I know that isn’t what you want to hear.” He looked down, cursing the fact that he never felt the urge to draw when he was a kid. “It’ll be okay, I’ll figure something out.” You replied, more reassuring yourself than him. “Thanks.” He said softly, feeling comforted by your words. “I was reassuring myself.” You justified with a laugh and he chuckled with you. “Fair enough.”

Jongho walked through the cafeteria with his bag, finding his friends pretty easily. They were a rowdy bunch after all.

“There he is. How was art class?” San asked and clapped the younger boy on the back as he sat down. “I still can’t believe that they messed up your schedule like that.” Seonghwa said and Jongho shrugged. “It could be worse. At least I have a cute partner.” Jongho said without thinking about it.

Yeah, he thought you were cute. He also thought there was a worse way to have to spend art class.

“Cute partner? I don’t think I know anyone in the art class.” Wooyoung commented, popping a grape into his mouth. “Her name’s Y/N and she’s kind of stuck with me as a partner for something that takes up a huge chunk of her grade. I feel bad.” Jongho said and perked up once he noticed you had entered the cafeteria. You had a quiet nature, avoiding bumping into people as you walked to an empty seat. You looked clumsy and cute, it made Jongho smile. “I’m assuming that’s her.” Hongjoong said, taking note of the way Jongho had gone quiet.

You had been racking your brain ever since class had ended. No offense to Jongho but you were stuck with him and it was making you anxious. You wanted to deliver something you could be proud of and you really had to think hard about it.

Jongho was a physical person, he liked physical activity and you could work with that. Slowly an idea started forming.

“Jongho!” You called as you saw him in the hall by his locker. You walked over to him, seeing his group of friends all close to him. “Hey, what’s up?” Jongho asked, swallowing before speaking. “I had an idea for the project, something that I think would work for the both of us.” You explained, eyes locking with his for a moment only for you to look away again. “Well, you’re the boss. When do you need me?” Jongho asked, his words flustering you slightly.

“Uhm we can get started this weekend if you’re free, at my place? I have a canvas that’s ready to go and paint.” You said with a soft smile, hoping the blush on your cheeks would die down a bit. Jongho was undeniably attractive and you weren’t used the attention.

“That works, I can come by on Saturday if you text me your adress.” Jongho said, trying really hard to ignore Wooyoung and San’s whispering next to him. You heard the whispers too, feeling uncomfortable as you felt they were about you and you looked to the floor. Jongho subtly jammed his elbow into Wooyoung’s stomach while pretending to adjust his shirt and they shut up.

“Perfect...” You started to walk away, awkwardness taking over before realising you forgot to say something. “Wait, I forgot to mention. Bring some clothes you don’t mind getting paint on, it could get messy.” You said, catching Jongho off guard before walking away again. How could you be so awkward out of nowhere?

You had managed to set the whole thing up... or at least step 1 of your project. It was easy, it was fun and it was creative. This project was going to help you let go a little and through out your week you were starting to see the positive side to this whole thing. You followed rules when it came to art and art didn’t have rules, you wanted to have fun with this.

“Did you find it okay?” You asked, leading him into your house. Jongho couldn’t help but be taken back by your appearance at first. Your shorts and huge what used to be white t-shirt, now covered in a rainbow of paint splatters. Your hair was messy not having bothered doing anything to it because it would get messed up anyways, but Jongho thought it was cute.

“I know I look like a crazy person but this is what I wear to paint so disregard that.” You added on, your sock covered feet padding over the wooden floor of your house. “It’s fine, it somehow suits you. You look comfortable.” Jongho commented, following you through the house.

“Uhm, what are we doing for the project. You never really told me.” Jongho said stopping in your living room and you turned around and looked at him. “Oh my God, you’re right.” You said covering your mouth and starting to laugh at your own stupidity. Jongho must’ve thought you were in an idiot.

“You must think I’m crazy. I get really scatterbrained when I start a project, I’m so sorry.” You explained and Jongho just watched you, grinning softly. He could tell your mind was going a mind a minute and he couldn’t help but wonder if this was what it was like to be an artist. Sticking his hands in the pockets of his old jeans and just took you in. He didn’t think he was going to enjoy this experience that much at first, but that was slowly changing.

“So basically, I thought you don’t have painting or drawing experience so what can we do. Then I had another thought, you like being physically active and you’re probably good at throwing things too.” Jongho was starting to get concerned at your words, the concern being very visible on his face. “Throwing things?” He thought to himself.

“Don’t worry, it’s a good idea. I think... I was just thinking we should have a good time either launching waterballoons filled with paint at a canvas or we could tape the paint filled balloons to a canvas and throw darts at them. That’s up to you though.” Jongho’s concern quickly went away as he heard the rest of your idea. It sounded so fun and it was definitely something he could do. “I do believe you are a genius ma’am.” Jongho said and bowed jokingly.

“Really?” You asked, your voice sounding so hopefull. You let out a breath of relief as your concerns were wiped away. Something about Jongho was so incredibly refreshing and different from what you had expected. It was nice.

“I think launching the balloons at the canvas is the safest bet. Darts seem, dangerous.” He said as you walked into your yard together. You hummed in agreement, knowing he was probably right and knowing your aim. The last thing you wanted was Jongho going to the emergency room because you can’t throw.

“That seems fair, don’t want to accidentally hurt you.” You said and gestured towards the canvas. You had filled the balloons beforehand and placed them in a bucket. Your mother was going to be upset at the fact that her grass would be splattered with paint, but you knew this would be forgotten if you told her it was for school.

“How did you come up with this?” Jongho asked as he picked up the bucket from next to the canvas and brought it a safe distance away. “ I don’t really know. I guess I was kind of forced to think outside of the box a little. I kinda have to thank you for that.” You confessed and gestured for him to have the first throw. “What do you mean?” He asked and launched a waterballoon at the canvas. It splattered bright orange against the crisp white and you couldn’t help but smile widely.

Jongho felt really good watching the color splatter over the canvas. It felt so good to do something like this.

“I mean, my art was starting to feel stiff. Repetitive. This was something I needed.” You explained and threw your own balloon, missing drastically and launching the blue paint over the grass. You covered your mouth in embarrassment and to hold back your laughter. Jongho tried to hold back a laugh but failed miserably and handed you another balloon. “The canvas is over there.” He joked and you hung your shoulders in feigned shame. “I’m not good at sports.” You confessed, throwing another balloon and barely clipping the canvas. Though hard enough to cause red splatter near the orange.

How your mannerism’s could be so endearing, he had no clue. You weren’t the type of girl Jongho normally gravitated too, but then again he was never really thrown into a situation like this before. He found himself enjoying this whole situation, immensly.

“So you’re friends with San and Wooyoung right?” You asked as the canvas gradually filled with more and more colors and splatters. Turning to Jongho, you noticed how the light was capturing him and his beautiful skin tone and for a moment you swore your heart started pounding faster. Tearing your eyes away, you fiddled with the hem of your paint stained shirt.

“Yeah, I am. Why?” He asked, noting the fact you were avoiding eye contact. “No reason really, they really are mood makers in class.” You complimented. Friendship was something you missed, you always found yourself too scatterbrained and busy to maintain them. Sure you had people you were friendly with at school, but not really someone you could call your friend.

“Yeah that’s true. Wooyoung can be so loud sometimes though.” Jongho chuckled to himself as he threw a balloon really hard against the canvas, nearly knocking it over. “Who do you hangout with?” Jongho asked and ran to the canvas, adjusting it back to it’s original position. You were hesitant to answer his question, you didn’t want him to pity you.

“No one really.” You admitted, your voice sounding oddly cheery. He looked at you confused at how you could sound so okay with that. “Really?” “Really.” You responded and sat down in the grass, your arms feeling tired from throwing and wanting a break. Jongho joined you, deciding he deserved a break as well.

“I’m bad at maintaining friends.” You said with a small laugh at your own self pity. “Ahh.” was the only sound to be heard from him. You both sat quietly for a moment and you leaned back to look at your project. “It looks really good. I think phase 1 is complete.” You nodded in approval and Jongho smiled widely, his nose crinkling in the cutest way.

“This was a lot more fun than I thought it would be.” Jongho admitted, not remember the last time he felt joy in a project that wasn’t sport related. “We should let this dry... do you want to watch a movie or something?” Your proposal caught Jongho off guard and yourself. You weren’t expecting those words to come out so smoothly, or to come out at all. It was all incredibly impulsive.

“I actually want to ask you something.” Jongho started and you looked at him with mildly scared eyes. “I was actually wondering if you would show me some of your art and maybe teach my how to do some stuff. I liked this alot more than I thought I would. It would be cool to know how to draw or be even a little helpfull to you in this project.” You were completely surprised, not sure how to respond. This was cool, this was amazing. It put such a big smile on your face you couldn’t help but cover it with your hand.

“I would absolutely love to teach you! Come on let’s go to my room. I have my art stuff up there.” He was surprised by your enthousiasm but it also warmed his heart. You were just so bubbly when it came to art, it was your happy space.

“I’m going to take a guess that this one is your room.” Jongho said and stood infront of your door. It was painted on a sweet little mural and made his smile grow even larger. “Lucky guess.” You said and looked away. You got bashfull for a moment, no one had really been up to your before, let alone a guy.

“This is so cool. It looks so amazing.” He ran his fingers over the painting. It was amazing to him that he could feel the brush strokes. “Thank you.” Your voice was small suddenly and Jongho looked back at you. “Like really amazing.” He never considering that art had texture, that was really cool.

Letting him in your room, you gestured for him to sit at your desk and grabbed a sketchbook and some pencils. “What do you want to learn?” You sat down next to him after placing the sketchbook in front of him. “I don’t know. What do you want to teach me?” Jongho asked leaning towards you with a cheeky smile. His actions flustered you and you looked away for a moment, making him giggle.

“You’re cute.” He stated, flipping your sketchbook open and slowly turning through the pages. How he could just say something like that? “Maybe teach me how to draw you.” He added on as he looked at the paper, trying to hide his giggly response to your reaction.

“How about I just teach you with what I started with? How faces work, if that’s okay.” You evaded and brushed your hair out of your face. You taught Jongho the lines on faces basic lines to follow and just let him draw to get an idea of what he could do. This was just for fun afterall, you didn’t do it completely seriously and neither did he. Jongho just wanted to spend more time with you and thought this was fun.

A silence crept over you both as he drew and you watched. You admired the pencil strokes and soft sound of the pencil on the paper, you also admired his hands. He had such nice, beautiful, tan skin and very nice hands. You couldn’t help but wonder how such nice hands would feel holding yours.

“Jongho...” You started, still just looking at his drawing and hands. He turned his head to you but you avoided eye contact, just looking at the paper. “Hmm?” “Can we be friends?” Your question caught him very off guard, it just wasn’t what he was expecting. “I mean, I kind of thought we already were.”

Week 2

Jongho had been thinking nonstop of his Saturday with you and he couldn’t help but think about how fun it would be to work on “Phase 2″ of the painting. This joy dragged on through the week, before he even really shared a class with you. He found himself doodling in his notebooks and even though they weren’t necessarily good in his opinion, it made him happy.

“So how was painting? I forgot to ask earlier.” Hongjoong asked as he greeted Jongho one morning. It was still early before class and students were slowly pouring in as the group of boys stood in front of the school. Jongho instantly smiled at the question, lovely thoughts filling his mind at the mere mention.

“It was a lot of fun. I kinda know how to draw now. Watch out I might become the next greatest artist.” Jongho joked and tucked his hands into his pocket. “Ah so you had because of art, not a certain partner?” San questioned, eyebrow cocking in Jongho’s direction. However someone caught Jongho’s eye, you.

“Y/N!” He called softly, waving at you. You were caught by surprised but waved back, adjusting your bag over your shoulder. That was when Jongho gestured for you to come over and your heart dropped a little. You had never really talked to his group of friends, ever. You were convinced they didn’t know you existed.

However you did it, you walked over there. Over the weekend you had made some decisions, some life decisions. One of them was inform your parents over the paint throwing in the yard BEFORE you did it and the other was go outside of your comfort zone more. Not only with your art, but also with your life. Making more friends was a little step in the right direction.

“Goodmorning.” You greeted in a singsong voice, making Jongho’s ears turn pink slightly. “Goodmorning.” He greeted back and saw how your arms folded over your chest, noticing some dried green paint by your elbow. “I’m Wooyoung. Do we have classes together?” Wooyoung asked and his question stung a little, you had a lot of classes with him and he just never noticed you.

“I know, we have quite a few classes together actually.” You laughed, brushing it off because you knew he meant no harm. This made Jongho frown, how could Wooyoung not know that?

“Have you been painting?” Jongho asked, changing the subject. “Oh, yeah I have been. Why?” You asked, being confused at his sudden question. “You have some green paint on your arm.” He smiled and reached out rubbing the paint mark gently with his fingers. His touch made your cheeks burn bright red, especially as you had an audience. You simply looked down at the ground as he took care of it. “There, I think I got it all.” He stepped back, eyes trained on your burning red face. You had never felt so relieved to hear a school bell.

He didn’t mean to fluster you like that, though he had to admit he thought it was ridiculously cute and you had never been flustered by a guy like that before. You liked it, you liked Jongho and it happened really fast.

Mrs. Kim noticed the chemistry that week, the chemistry between you and Jongho as you sketched out ideas and guided him when he drew. This was what she had hoped for, this was what she wanted. It was nice to see you smiling in class and it was nice to see someone who was thrown into an unlikely situation, run with it and make the best out of it.

“Okay but why are the eyes all the way up there?” You asked with a small laugh, your face by Jongho’s shoulder. “Look not everyone’s anatomy is the same.” He clarified, trying to hold back his laugh. You shook your head and grabbed your own pencil, doodling a little cartoon nose under horribly realistic eyes and making the whole drawing even funnier. “I guess you’re right about anatomy.” You sighed and rested your head on his shoulder for a split second. You didn’t know what came over you it was something you did unconsciously, you were comfortable.

Jongho felt his heart pound in his chest at your small action but didn’t respond, not wanting to make things weird. However he did notice something, something sweet. When you moved your head his nose filled with the scent of flowers and sweet hardcandy and he loved it. “Do you have time this weekend to work on the painting? If not it’s fine, but - nevermind.” You were going to say, you really enjoyed spending time with him but held it back. Jongho frowned, he couldn’t that weekend. He had to cover someone’s shift at the convenience store he worked at.

“I can’t this weekend, but next week I definitely can. I’m all yours.” He explained and your smile fell. “That’s too bad. The last time was fun. Like, really fun.” You said and turned away to your sketchbook. Jongho would’ve rather been with you than at the store, but work was something he couldn’t have just missed. With a sad smile, Jongho put his arm over the back of your chair to get your attention.

Your cheeks were pink when you looked at him and your lips were pouting slightly, he was suddenly completely willing to skip work. “You’re cute when you pout.” His words came out before he could catch them and watched as your cheeks turned even redder. Where did these things come from?

Week 3

The keychain was tucked carefully in Jongho’s hand as he waited for you in front of the school with Hongjoong and Seonghwa. He had seen the keychain on his way back home from work that Saturday. It was a small, stuffed, multicolored patchwork teddy bear on a rose gold keychain. When he saw it he thought of you and came to the conclusion, this was the way he was going to ask you out and break the sad news to you at the same time.

“Let me read the note again.” Seonghwa asked Jongho and the younger boy shook his head. “No, she should be here soon.” He was on firm lookout for your figure approaching the school.

Hongjoong tapped Seonghwa on the chest and whispered to him. “He seems to be nervous.” The statement was blatantly obvious and Seonghwa had to do everything in his power to not roll his eyes. “There she is.” He pointed out and Jongho quickly rolled the note up and slipped it inbetween one of the small loops on the keychain.

“Hey, Y/N.” Hongjoong said and waved at you. You walked over with a soft smile and greeted the 3, looking at Jongho a little longer. He looked uncomfortable and fidgeted with his hands under your gaze.

“So, how was your weekend?” Seonghwa asked, trying to distract you as Jongho moved by your backpack. “Pretty standard. Nothing really interesting.” You admitted and thought back to how boring it actually was. “How was it for you guys?” You asked and felt a little tug on your backpack from behind, turning your head you saw with his hand on your bag. “Sorry, you had a bug on your back. I think I flicked it off harder than I meant too.” He lied straight through his teeth, but the keychain was on your bag. “Oh, thanks.” You said, shaking your head slightly at how odd he was acting.

You looked at your watch, noting the fact that you still had to go talk to Mrs. Kim about a personal project. “I have to go talk to Mrs. Kim about something, but I will see you guys later.” You said and waved to them before starting to walk away. “Hey Y/N.” Jongho said after you, making you turn to look at him. He had a soft smile on his face and his ears were pink. “You look pretty today.” He said loud enough for not only Hongjoong and Seonghwa to hear, but the other students entering the school.

You covered your mouth to hide your smile and quickly turned away to go to Mrs. Kim. Jongho giggled at your response only to garner funny looks from his older friends. “You are completely whipped.” Hongjoong said, still in shock at what he had just witnessed. “So what if I am? She’s cute when she’s flustered. Besides she might not like me much once she finds out I’m not in the art class anymore.” Jongho grabbed his bag off of the ground. “I doubt that, she likes you too. It’s blatantly obvious.” Seonghwa shrugged and headed inside of the school. “It is?” Jongho asked himself, wondering how he didn’t pick up the signs.

“Y/N, good morning!” Mrs. Kim greeted as you entered her classroom. “Goodmorning.” You said in return and took a seat by her desk, laying your backpack in your lap.

“So things with your semester project have been going well?” She asked, looking at you with a smile. “Yeah they’ve been going really well...” Your voice trailed off once you noticed the colorfull trinket on your bag. “Sorry what was that?” Your head snapped up at her question and you tried ignoring the keychain. “Sorry, it’ been going great. Jongho is really fun to work with. I think he’s teaching me more than I’m teaching him.” You said, fingers now fiddling with the little teddy bear.

“I’ve noticed your not being so strict on yourself with drawing. It’s refreshing to see. It’s also refreshing to see you smiling in class.” Your fingers glided over the patchwork fabric, before moving to the chain where you noticed a rolled up piece of paper. “I have been happy.” You admitted, not being to contain your little smile. “Jongho does you good. Let’s pray he’ll be there to finish the project with you.” Mrs. Kim said, realising you were distracted in obviously happy thoughts. “Go to your first class, Ms. Y/N and get your head out of the clouds... in a few minutes.” She dismissed you and you smiled even wider.

You left her classroom and leaned against the wall in the hall. Unrolling the note that was now clutched in your hand, you read it to yourself.

“Hey Y/N,

I know this is kind of weird. But I guess that’s kind of fitting to our friendship, weird and something we both didn’t expect. Anyways, I saw this Saturday on my way home from work and it put a smile on my face. Naturally, the fact that it made me smile made me think of you. So please take this as a little gift, as a thank you for taking me under your colorful wing and making me smile.

This is also a sorry, the wrestling coach called me a few days ago and told me a position opened up on the team. So I won’t be in art class anymore. But I promise I will help you finish our project because, well I’m enjoying myself a lot and I want to spend more time with you.

That leads me to my next reason for this little gift. I was wondering if after this project, you would like to spend even more time with me? Maybe let me take you out on a date? If not, I would like to be friends, just let me know.

Also this bear’s name is Sunshine, take care of him well.

- Jongho”

You had to cover your mouth and remind yourself that you were in school and not home in your room. Jongho liked you too, Jongho liked spending time with you and it felt surreal. You hadn’t had a crush in a long time, let alone one that liked you in return.

Tucking the note in your pocket, you looked at the little teddy bear. “I’ll take care of you, Sunshine.” You said softly before scrambling for your class, noticing you were going to be late.

“You look happy.” Wooyoung commented as you past him to get to your seat. “I do?” You asked, not even attempting to hide your smile. “Yeah, you have that energy that says you got asked out.” Wooyoung was cheeky, you knew that but you didn’t know how much your demeanor could change from a simple confession. Yet here you were.

“How did you know that?” You asked him and he Wooyoung started laughing. “You both are blind. He was so nervous this whole week about asking you out and felt horrible about not being able to work on the painting this weekend. Jongho never shuts up about you.” He shrugged and casually unpacked his things from his bag. “He really likes you.” Wooyoung added on and you quickly made your way to your seat as you noticed your teacher had arrived. But class was far from your mind.

Jongho’s figure was recognizable from behind as you saw him walking in the hall. Broad shoulders, muscular figure and very soft looking hair, he was hard to miss. Taking a deep breath, you stepped forward trying to catch up with him to tap him on the shoulder. This wasn’t something you yelled out through the crowd.

He turned around, instantly greeting you with a giant smile and his nose crinkling in the cutest way. “I found your note and your little gift.” You smiled just thinking about his sweet letter. Jongho’s cheeks turned bright red as he felt incredibly nervous to your response. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you in person. I have a hard time talking about my feelings sometimes. I hope it didn’t make you uncomfortable or anything.” His apology caught you off guard, could he really not see that you liked him too?

Grabbing his hand, you pulled him to the side and a bit away from other people wandering in the halls. “I would love to go on a date with you Jongho.” You blatantly stated, your hand still holding his. “Really?” His eyes went wide with disbelief, you liked him. Your fingers laced with his now and you started laughing. “I feel like we’re both horribly oblivious. Yes, really.” You were both quiet for a moment, thinking about how nice the other’s hand felt.

“So, we’re gonna try and finish this weekend? I want to take you out on that date.” He quickly said, making you laugh. Jongho didn’t realise how eager he sounded until it came out, but he didn’t care. You didn’t say anything and wrapped your arms around him, pulling him in for a hug.

Jongho reciprocated the action, arms wrapping around your waist gently as he hugged you in return. His face tucked into your neck and he took a deep breath. You smelled nice, like flowers and sweet hardcandies and as if Jongho needed anymore convincing that he liked you.

The weekend rolled around fast enough, yet you found yourself in a slump. The ideas you had regarding the project seemed less and less appealing as the days went by and surely enough you hated your idea. You were so inspiration blocked that you had reverted to spending your Saturday morning sitting infront of the paint splattered canvas, hoping to get an idea.

“Y/N, you’re partner is here. I’m going to go to run some errands and then go out to dinner with friends. Have fun!” Your mother said from your bedroom door and you turned your head to her. “Alright mom, thanks.” You said and watched Jongho awkwardly enter your bedroom.

“Hey.” He said softly, taking note of the fact that you weren’t in your paint clothes but dressed quite cute. Short denim overalls and an oversized striped shirt underneath, very simple and cute but completely fitting to you. But you didn’t look that happy, as a matter of fact you looked distraught.

“What’s wrong?” Jongho asked and sat down on your bed. “I have no idea how to finish this. I had one, but now I hate it. I don’t know how to continue.” You explained, pulling your knees to your chest and looking at Jongho. He had a concerned expression, nose crinkling as his eyebrows furrowed. “Hmm.” He hummed and turned around to look at the paint splatters.

“Scoot over.” He said, kicking his shoes off and sitting down next to you at the top of your bed, back leaning against the headboard. The side of his body pressed into your comfortably as he settled down to stare at the painting. “How long have you been doing this?” He asked, glancing towards you and taking note of how incredibly close your faces were.

“Too long.” You mumbled, resting your head on your knees. “Entirely too long.” Your voice was soft as you continued to look straight ahead. Art block was the worst feeling.

“Distract me a little. How was your first wrestling practice?” You asked, genuinely interested in the topic. You craned your head to look at him, also taking note of how close your faces were. “It was really nice to be back in a familiar space again.” He started and you watched him speak. He looked happy talking about his passion and the made you feel mushy on the inside. Was this how he felt when you talked about art?

You couldn’t help but giggle at his happy expression, he was ridiculously cute and he didn’t even know it. “What was that for?” Jongho asked, leaning into you a little more with a soft smirk. “Happy is cute on you. Can I come to a match of yours?” You asked, burrying your face into your arms a little more. The question was surprising but Jongho loved it, you were slowly taking initiative. “I would love for you to come to a match of mine.” His voice was hushed suddenly, not feeling the need to speak loud. Even though it was just the two of you home, he wanted this moment to be private.

You both simply looked at eachother for a moment, the project at hand being far away from your thoughts. Jongho’s hand moved to yours and you let him take it. His thumb drawing shapes over your soft skin.

“Can I kiss you?” His question caught you completely off guard, but not in a negative way at all. He realised the question was kind of out of the blue, but your naturally pink tinted cheeks, pouty lips and soft expression were too much for him. He really wondered if your lips tasted like the way you smelled, like sweet candy.

You nodded and lifted your head from your arms, your heart pounding in your chest as his hand gently moved up your arm. You leaned further into him and smiled as his hand finally reached your cheek, cupping it gently. He was watching you and admired the way your eyes fluttered shut, the soft smile playing on your lips and the deeper pink tint on your cheeks.

He finally leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours, fingers moving under your chin. His lips were pillowy, soft and incredibly gentle against yours, not wanting to hurt you in any way or form. To him, you tasted exactly like he thought you would. Sweet like candy and he absolutely loved it.

You didn’t realise it until you pulled away, but your hand was on his chest gripping his t-shirt. “Sorry.” You mumbled, letting go only for his hand to catch yours and keep it there on his chest. “It’s okay.” His voice came out as whisper as he locked eyes with you. You gripped his shirt again, now using it as leverage to pull his lips against yours again. This time catching Jongho slightly by surprise.

This kiss was different, the soft, careful demeanor being a lot less present as he pulled you into him. His hands were on your waist and you moved to sit on your knees, lips not seperating once. As his lips moved against yours, you hummed as he squeezed your waist gently before threading your fingers through his silky hair.

“You taste sweet.” He mumbled against your lips and wrapped his arms around you fully. Jongho laid down, making sure to pull you with him and allowing you to rest on his chest. He looked at your flushed cheeks and smiled, pressing his forehead to yours. “God you’re so cute.” He commented, revelling in the feeling of your fingers in his hair.

You tugged slightly and watched his eyes close, long eyelashes catching your attention. Jongho was pretty enough to draw. What you weren’t expecting however, was the low groan the emitted from his throat.

You kissed him again with a total new feeling to it. The way he looked, the way he sounded, it was too much. Jongho could feel it too, the way your breathing had sped up, the way your chest pressed against his, it was all just completely natural for him to get worked up.

As his tongue glided over your bottom lip, gaining more access to your mouth, his hands grabbed your waist and moved you where he wanted you. Straddling his waist now, you could completely feel the effect you had on him and a wave of nerves hit you. “Jongho...” You started, sitting up slightly and only placing your clothed core over his. A moan came out before you could finish what you were saying and the heat on your cheeks flooded back.

“I’ve never done this before.” You finished, your hands on his chest as he looked up at you. “That’s okay, we don’t have to.” He said quickly, not wanting to make you uncomfortable at all. He wouldn’t want you to do anything you would regret. “That’s not what I meant, I just wanted you to know. I want to do this, if you do.” You said, smiling softly at his gentle words and hands coming to find yours. Your finger’s laced together and you looked at how well they fit.

“I do. I really do.” He said, sitting up so that his face was inches from yours again. His movements made his hips buck into yours, shooting relief through your body and making you squeeze his hands. Jongho was loving your little reactions to minor movements.

His lips attached to your jaw, lacing light kisses over the skin and keeping his eyes on you. Your eyes were closed and you were loving the feeling of his lips on your skin. His finger tips danced over the skin of your arms before holding the back of your neck tightly. Lips moving down over your neck, you let out a gasp as he nipped at your skin. “You sound so pretty.” Jongho praised and his words went straight to your core.

“If you want to stop, just tell me.” He said between kisses on the base on your neck. “Please don’t.” Your words came out as a whine even at the thought. He felt so good.

You toyed with the hem of his t-shirt, hoping he’d take the hint that he would take it off. “You’re eager.” Jongho commented and pulled his lips off of your skin. You thought your eagerness had killed the mood and were about to apologize, when he swiftly pulled his shirt off over his head.

His skin looked soft like satin and you found your fingers wandering over the newly exposed skin before moving to the clips of your overalls. You took a deep breath and undid them swiftly, tugging your shirt off and discarding it with his. This amount of exposure was new to you and you felt incredibly shy, the simple white lace of your bra not seeming nice enough for the occasion. You looked down, breaking eye contact with him.

“You’re so beautiful.” His comment made your heart flutter and you looked up again. “So beautiful.” He repeated and you took the plunge, pressing your lips to his harshly and pushing him back. Jongho found that he quite enjoyed the weight of your body on his and that he really enjoyed the feeling of your chest against his, no he loved the feeling. “So soft.” He complimented again as his fingers ran over the skin of your back.

“Stop complimenting me.” You giggled and let out a yelp as he flipped you both over. His hard on was now directly pressing against your core, harshly and your hair was splayed over your pillow. “Why should I stop?” Jongho asked and kissed over your collarbones, his tongue peaking out to lick at your skin. Moving down further, his mouth was at the edge of your bra and his hands moved to undo it. “I mean every word, you know.” He said and watched you slide the item of clothing off of your arms.

“Why are you being so sweet?” You asked as your arms covered your now bare chest in slight embarrassment. Your question was very surprising to Jongho, he didn’t have a reason not to be. He felt incredibly lucky to be in the position he was in and he was going to let you know that, you deserved that.

“Because I feel lucky. You’re trusting me, you’re letting me do this with you.” He explained, odd kisses being placed around your lips. “I feel lucky too, lucky I’m doing this with you.” You admitted and your arms moved away from your chest, feeling even more comfortable with him.

Jongho allowed his hands to move to your chest, squeezing your breast slightly as he nipped at your skin. The kisses became more intense as you felt him suck on your skin, he wanted to leave marks. You hummed when his tongue moved over your nipple, licking the nub before wrapping his lips around it. Moaning, your nails moved over his shoulders and he hummed, vibrations somehow moving through your whole body.

His lips lazily moved over your skin to reach your other nipple, to give it the same attention as his hands moved down your torso. He pushed your overalls down and you helped him pull them off, but not wanting his mouth off of your skin. Your breathing picked up as his hand rubbed over your clothed slit and he bit down on your nipple slightly. All of this was just so stimulating, you couldn’t help but already feel something starting to bubble up in your stomach.

“Jongho~” You moaned, nails digging into his shoulders again. He was loving the fact that he could draw these reactions from you. He pulled your underwear to the side, making you gasp as his index finger ran over your bare slit and gathered your arousal. “Let me know if you want me to stop.” He said again as he knew things were getting more intense. Jongho looked at you as you bit your bottom lip, him pushing his finger into you slowly. You mewled and shut your eyes, accepting the new feeling and loving it. His finger curled and he repeated his actions. You were so tight around him, making his mind wander to how you’d feel wrapped around him.

His finger’s picked up with pace, curling his finger every now and then before adding another. It was a bit of a stretch but nothing uncomfortable, the opposite actually. You were a moaning mess, the coil in your stomach tightening rapidly with each thrust of his fingers.

Your hand shot up, covering your mouth as a particularly loud moan left you, your other hand grabbing his hair. Jongho could tell you were incredibly close to cumming, walls tightening around his fingers and he watched your face. Your cheeks were flushed and your eyes were shut, but your hand was still covering your mouth.

“Let me hear you.” Jongho pleaded, lips moving by your ear as his pace picked up even more. “Cum for me, please.” He mumbled, kissing the skin softly as you tried shutting your legs instinctively. His hand prevented that and you pulled his lips onto yours as you released, back arching of the mattress. He kept pumping his fingers through your orgasm as you kissed him deeply and moaned against his lips.

You whined, moving to push his hand away because the feeling was too much. “Too much.” You whimpered and Jongho pulled his hand away. “You did so good.” He mumbled into the skin of your neck only for it to be cut off with a moan. Your hand had found his bulge and you palmed it gently. It wasn’t fair that you were getting all the attention. Jongho burried his face in the crook of your neck, feeling your hand grip him through his jeans.

A wave of nerves overtook you as you felt how big he was, but you weren’t backing down now. You wanted him.

You undid his jean and he helped you pull them down, laughing slightly at the awkward movements. But it didn’t kill the mood at all, as a matter of fact the small giggles put you more at ease. As he stripped himself of his jeans and boxers, you pulled your own underwear off and threw it to the ground.

Jongho sat on his knees inbetween your legs, cock standing against his lower stomach. He looked thick and you couldn’t help but feel the heat pool between your legs again. Before you did anything else you reached towards your nightstand and pulled open the drawer. You had a small box of condoms stored there for a rainy day and today it was pouring.

He watched you, running his hands over your thighs as you went to pull a condom out. Something about the action was so innocent, especially when you handed it to him with wide eyes. Smiling, he grabbed and leaned forward to kiss your lips lightly. You watched him tear open the foil packet and roll it on, the action being very intriguing to watch.

“You’re still okay with this right?” Jongho asked as one of his hands found your hip. “I am. I promise.” You said softly and found that for some reason you weren’t nervous anymore. You felt so cared for and comfortable, you didn’t have a reason too.

Using his hand, he raised your hips and guided himself towards your slit. Running the tip over your slit and gathering some of your wetness before pressing into you. Jongho made sure to lean forward and hold you close as he looked for any signs of discomfort or pain. But it didn’t hurt, the stretch was a little uncomfortable but there wasn’t any pain. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer.

“You okay?” He asked, kissing your lips gently before bottoming out completely. You let out a small gasp at the full feeling and your walls clenched in response. He felt so good. You nodded and looked up into his eyes, allowing your body to adjust to him. “Please move.” You whined slightly, any discomfort you had being completely gone and now just being very needy. You bucked your hips making Jongho chuckle before drawing his own hips back.

He started off slow, his hands moving down to hold your thighs and wrap your legs around his waist. Hips drawing out and in gently. The way your body was angled made him hit all the right spots and making the feeling even more intense than it was with his fingers. “Jongho, you feel so good.” You choked out as your fingers toyed with the hairs on the back of his neck.

“No baby, you feel good. You look so good for me.” He commented into your neck before looking at your expression. Your cheeks were the pinkest he had ever seen and you’re lips were swollen, eyes hooded as you looked up at him with a moan leaving you as you did.

“So beautiful.” He remarked, saying it more to himself than anyone else. His hips picked up the pace, causing your nails to dig into his shoulders and a small cry came from your mouth. You were so close again and Jongho could feel it. Your walls squeezed him tighter and tighter with each move of his hips and he couldn’t help but let out a groan at the feeling. His hand moved inbetween your legs and gently rubbed your clit, feeling that he was on the edge of cumming as well.

“Come on, beautiful. Cum for me.” He mumbled, moaning through his own sentence as his hips stuttered and stilled completely. Your own orgasm following not far behind, making your legs tighten around his waist. A small cry left your mouth as you felt your legs shake slightly and Jongho rubbed them soothingly as he came down from his own high.

He allowed himself to rest on top of you with a small laugh and you pet his hair, breathing heavily yourself. “Thank you for being so sweet to me.” You whispered softly, barely being audible. Jongho lifted his head to look at you, smiling before getting off of you and laying next to you. “Thank you for being you. It makes being sweet easy.” You couldn’t help but cover your face in embarrassment and he started laughing. “We just had sex but that embarrasses you? You’re a beautiful surprise everytime I’m with you.” Jongho chuckled and turned over onto his side to look at you. His fingers started tracing over the bare skin of your stomach and he just admired you.

Jongho felt like he was head over heels for you and he had never felt that way for anyone before.

You were watching his expression, taking note of how happy and giggly he was. His eyes were sparkling and that was something you never really noticed before. That was when an idea came to you.

“Oh.” You said, sitting up suddenly and catching him off guard. “Oh? What’s wrong?” Jongho asked and followed your body as you quickly pulled on clothes. “Nothing’s wrong, I have an idea for the project.” You smiled at him and he shook his head in disbelief. Your mind was fascinating to him.

You tugged on your painting shirt and placed yourself on the floor infront of the paint splattered canvas. In all honesty, you were done looking at the thing but you had to take inspiration when it came, even if it was an odd time.

Jongho moved to put his jeans back on, not feeling the need for his shirt just yet as he sat behind you on the ground. He pressed his chest to your back and watched you grab a white chalk pencil. “Why a white pencil?” He asked, genuinely curious as to what you were doing. “Because white shows up better on the colors of background than a regular pencil would.” You explained and leaned back into his bare chest.

“Oh.” His voice was soft as he spoke by your ear, sending goosebumps over your body. You giggled slightly and just started sketching, glancing back at him to get a general idea of his eyes and their shape. “What’s your idea beautiful?” He asked and you smiled. “I’m going to paint you. Well, just your eyes. Because I can and you opened my eyes to trying new things.” You explained and started mapping out his features. Jongho fell quiet at your explanation pressed his lips to your shoulder, just feeling greatfull.

Week 4

Walking into the cafeteria, you stretched out your back and adjusted your bag. Painting was doing a number on your posture but you loved how it was starting to look and so was Jongho. He knew he didn’t do much when it came to the project itself but he still felt proud, of you and of the work he had done.

You spotted Jongho at his table with the other’s and smiled. You hadn’t seen him since that Saturday and were wondering if things were going to be awkward, they weren’t over text. But in real life things could be different.

He obviously hadn’t told any of the others about that Saturdays’ actual events, it was too private and too sacred to him for that. Eventhough he hadn’t seen you since that day, you were the only thing running through his mind. At wrestling practice, in class, at work and at home. His head was in the clouds and he absolutely never wanted to come down.

Catching a glimpse of you, he couldn’t help but wave you over. When you saw him standing, smiling and waving to you from his table you realised you were worried about nothing.

“Hey beautiful.” Jongho said, earning a deep blush from you and surprised looks from the others. “That’s new.” San commented and Jongho smacked him on the shoulder, before grabbing your hand. He sat back down and pulled you down with him so that you were sat on his knee. It was intimate and it garnered looks from people who didn’t know what was going on between you two, but you really couldn’t care. You were although embarrassed, incredibly happy.

“Project needs to be turned in a week. Think we’ll finish it on time?” Jongho asked softly and you nodded your head. “I think so. I have to present it too. But you have wrestling practice, so you focus on that. I can handle the rest of the project.” You assured, allowing your hand to come up to his cheek. Jongho could feel his ears turning pink at the sudden affection, not used to you being the one to make the first move.

Your thumb stroked his cheek gently and you quickly pecked his lips. You were feeling brave. “What was that?” He asked while giggling and you shrugged.

“Just another new thing I’m trying out.”

A/N: This took too long to write and it is all over the place. This is also the biggest story I have ever written so if you actually take the time to read this... I’m sorry?

Sorry it took so long as well. A lot of stuff has been going on in my brain lately. Anyways, feedback is kindly appreciated and encouraged.

#ateez #ateez smut #ateez reaction #ateez scenario #jongho #jongho scenario #jongho smut #jongho reaction #hongjoong #seonghwa #yunho #yeosang #san #mingi #wooyoung

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not-so-mundane-after-all · 3 years

Note

Hand-holding, 5, Gar and Conner

Fandom: DC Titans

Title: Can't Stop The Feeling

Pairings/Relationships: Garfield Logan & Conner Kent, Core Four

Summary: Conner has no clue about dancing. So Gar tries to teach him.

Hand-holding | 5. Platonic hand-holding, Gar & Conner - for @books-life-death

REQUESTS CLOSED (for now)

also tagging my bestie @undertheknightwing because it's ya boy Gar so you should be notified

____________________________________________

I got this feeling inside my bones.

"It goes electric, wavy when I turn it on!" Gar sang happily to the tune on the radio, not giving a damn that he's totally off key. He's been playing around in the kitchen for about an hour now and he had it all for himself, so he decided to test his culinary skills and prepare a feast.

Him and Rachel finally got Dick and Kory to get out for a date night and with other team members also spending their own free evening elsewhere, the Tower was mostly empty. When the two lovebirds finally left (or more like got kicked out because the two teenagers basically had to push their dramatically worried asses into the elevator, dodging questions and reminders like bullets) Gar asked Rachel if she'd like to help him in the kitchen but she had a slightly different idea for celebrating their victory - she locked herself in her bedroom with her pencils and brushes and got to work on another art masterpiece.

But he didn't mind working alone - it gave him more space to experiment.

He turned up the volume on the radio, singing along with Justin Timberlake and headed to the fridge, sliding on the polished wooden floor in his bright green socks. Stacking up things he needed in his arms he swayed his hips to the beat and smiled remembering how back at the Doom Manor he often caught Larry dancing while cooking. He balanced the tower of ingredients in his arms, holding the tip of it with his chin as he waltzed to the kitchen island.

"Nothing I can see but you when you dance, dance, dance…" he kept singing out loud as he chopped and cut vegetables and put them in the biggest pot he could find.

He twirled and jumped around the counter, busting moves and screaming the lyrics at the top of his lungs, completely lost in the music. He grabbed the chopping board and swung his arm over it, playing a riff on the invisible guitar and the crowd in his mind screamed.

"What are you doing?"

These four words worked on him like a hammer shattering glass - the happy illusion fell apart and Gar found himself awkwardly standing in front of Conner, who was staring at him baffled with his round eyes. "I didn't know cooking was…" he paused to find the right words, "physically demanding." He looked down at the almost empty bowl of popcorn in his arms and frowned. "I guess I've been doing it wrong."

When the initial shock faded, Gar chuckled and put his imaginary instrument away.

"This is not cooking," he said, shooting him a crooked grin. "It's dancing."

"Dancing?" the boy's face twisted, brows furrowing in something between confusion and focus. "I- I think I know what this is but I don't really… get it."

"It's easy," Gar shrugged. "You hear the song on the radio? All you need to do is move. You gotta feel the rhythm, man!" he outstretched his arms as he spoke and demonstrated a perfect (in his opinion) arm wave.

Unfortunately that didn't make Conner look any less clueless.

"Feel the… rhythm?"

Gar's arms dropped to his sides and his shoulders slumped when he let out a sigh.

"C'mon, let me show you."

He walked up to his friend and reached out his hands in offering. Conner glanced down at them, then back at Gar's encouraging face grinning at him and slowly, a bit hesitantly laid down his palms on top of Gar's. The green haired boy's fingers wrapped around his and then he pulled Conner into the open space between the kitchen and the lounge.

"It's easy, Conner!" he laughed, spinning them both around. "Listen to the beat!"

He tapped his foot onto the wooden floorboards, showing the other boy how his body moved in tune with the music, hitting every note perfectly in time. Gar started swinging his arms, swaying his hips, nodded his head to the rhythm as his legs stepped one way or the other.

"Got this feeling in my body!!!" he belted out as he spun Conner around and watched with a smile as his friend tried to mimic his moves, at first a bit sloppy and awkward, but getting better with each passing second.

"I think I got this!" Conner's high pitched excited voice rang over the song and Gar nodded in agreement.

"You got it, dude!"

As the last note of the tune played out and the melodic ooohhh faded into silence, Gar and Conner ended their little performance with their hands clasped high in the air, facing the windows with the biggest smiles on their faces as if the entire San Francisco was their audience. In Gar's mind the city lights glowing in the black of night were thousands of lighted up phones and glowsticks and the wind howling outside was the crowd screaming his name. The two boys looked at each other, grinning like idiots as they both tried to catch their breath - or as Gar did, because Conner with his super-everything didn’t even break a sweat.

The sound of slow, almost obnoxious clapping broke their little bubble of imagination and the two whipped around, startled, only to find Rachel standing by the breakfast table with a smirk on her face.

"That was… something." she said, crossing her arms over her chest, her eyes darting from one surprised face to the other.

"How… How long were you standing there?" Gar's voice sounded tight even for his own ears. He felt his cheeks slightly blushing in embarrassment as he scratched the back of his neck.

"Long enough to enjoy the show."

Something in her tone, that mischievous spark in her eyes told Gar she did more than just ‘enjoy the show’ and his gaze dropped to her left hand, catching the tip of her phone hidden underneath her arm. There was no doubt a high quality blackmail material was there and they both knew it. Their eyes met as Gar tried to find something in her gaze that would tell him he's wrong but Rachel only held her chin up and slid her phone in the back pocket of her black jeans, not even bothering to hide it anymore. It was a clear challenge and a warning, both in one sharp gaze and a smug smile.

Conner, oblivious to the silent game the two siblings were playing, smiled at her and happily announced.

"Gar was teaching me how to dance!"

He shook their joined hands for emphasis. Rachel laughed.

"I can see that. Was he a good teacher?"

"I think so," the boy replied and let go of Gar's hand, then outstretched his arms to the sides like Gar did earlier. "I mean, I think I got this now."

His arm wave was… not good to say the least, but the proud look on his face filled Gar's heart with warmth. He walked over to his friend and patted his shoulder.

"You're a fast learner."

Rachel smiled at the two for a bit longer then turned towards the kitchen.

"Well, I came here to get some coffee." she said, walking slowly to the coffee pot and pouring the drink to her favorite mug. She eyed the mess on the counter on her way back, peering into the pot then stealing a piece of tomato. Gar held up his finger, about to say something but she only smirked at him and threw it into her mouth.

She stopped right next to him though, leaned in close to his face and whispered.

"Dick and Kory were very impressed."

As if to confirm her words, her phone let out a quiet ding and her smirk grew even wider. She reached for it and opened the message in front of him. It was a picture of the pair, both glammed up and pretty in some fancy restaurant. The table was set with flowers, candles, some expensive cuisine and a bottle of wine cooling in a bucket full of ice. But what Gar's eyes focused on the most was Dick's goofy smile, Kory trying to quiet down a giggle and their thumbs up in the air.

His face drained of all the color.

They are never gonna let him live it down. Like ever.

#dc titans #titans #dcu titans #titans season 3 #garfield logan #conner kent #rachel roth #dick grayson #kory anders

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hatsukeii · 4 years

Note

hi hi lovie!! can i request super soft, extra fluffy hcs for suga?? hmmm, like boyfriend!suga and how he’d act during a first day?? or what he’d be all like if was crushing on someone hehehe i’m soft :(

It’s Suga appreciation hours😗💕

I’m procrastinating on the Kunimi one lmao I need time to ✨research✨ since I’m not that familiar w members from other teams, don’t judge me haha-

And I also saw a comment on how someone wanted tall s/o hcs so like put it in the req box so I know who you want hcs of!!

🌫Sugawara🌫

✨Crushing✨

- Sugawara probably never realised he was crushing on you.

- He just thought of you as a very close friend.

- You guys have been friends since you were 3, there was no way he was ever gonna fall in love with you.

- Right?

- It wasn’t until you guys joined the volleyball club together as setter and manager did he start to feel weird.

- He caught himself focusing on how you wrote down notes for the team, instead of trying to set the ball during training.

- “Oi, Sugawara, there’s no time to be distracted. Focus on the game.”

- “O-oh, yeah.”

- He shook it off as just mere fascination for three whole fucking years, since he believed it was because you’ve grown so much since you guys were kids.

- Until you hugged him when the synchronised attack finally worked out, during yours and his third year.

- Sugawara was a blushing mess.

- He felt hot all over, and he started sweating more than any other teammate.

- “Good job Koushi, you finally did it.”

- “Tha-thanks.”

- Stutter? Did he just fucking stutter?

- This did not go unnoticed by Noya and Tanaka, who set up a plan to confront Sugawara.

- “Suga-san, we need some help!”

- “Oh, Nishinoya? Tanaka? What do you need help with?”

- “Okay so, I have a question. How does it feel like to like someone?”

- That was Nishinoya’s question.

- Sugawara was confused. Since when did they ask for relationship advice? But the setter, being team mom, was quick to answer.

- “I mean, I guess butterflies in your stomach, blushing, being distracted by that someone, I don’t know for sure. What? Do one of you guys have someone in mind?”

- The duo stared at their upperclassman, before cackling like madmen in the empty gym.

- “HAHAHHA SUGA YOU’RE SO CLUELESS!”

- By now, he was fully baffled.

- “Wh-what are you guys talking about?”

- “DUDE, YOU’RE WHIPPED FOR Y/N OVER THERE HOLY SHIT!”

- Instantly, the tips of the grey haired boy’s ears were beet red as he tried to play it off.

- “Whaaat? Me? No way! We’ve been friends forever, I can’t be whipped for her. We’re just friends.”

- Not very convincing.

- “Really? That? That’s a terrible excuse. Have you seen yourself around her?”

- “N-no?”

- “Well, you just described to us exactly how you act during training. And don’t think we didn’t hear your stuttering when she hugged you~!”

- By now, Sugawara was a blushing mess trying to convince himself these feelings were platonic, just like what you were doing to yourself.

- “I don’t have time for a relationship. I have to focus on my studies and volleyball for now. It’s my last year and I’m gonna have to study well enough to go to university.”

- That was what he tried to stick to.

- But you were attracting his attention more and more by the day.

- He started from maybe setting a few balls that were too short, to full on forgetting to set to people.

- All because he was staring at you.

- The days leading up to the Spring High matches, you were trying your best to comfort Sugawara, knowing how he feels about Kageyama replacing him as setter for the team.

- The night before the match against Aoba Johsai, you specifically picked out the funniest movies you could find on Netflix and brought your laptop, along with an entire bag of snacks over to his house, where the both of you laughed your asses off all night, without a worry in mind.

- When the day of the tournament came, you met up extra early with Sugawara to give him a good luck charm, along with a kiss on the cheek to lighten up his mood.

- He almost passed out on the spot.

- During the match, you cheered the loudest out of everyone in the stadium when his plan to set to Kageyama worked out. As well as when he successfully served towards their spiker. Everyone looked at you like you were fucking mental, but that didn’t matter.

- Hearing your cheers and encouragement from the sidelines, Sugawara instantly levelled up, scoring quite a few points for the team before going back to the bench.

- When they won, you ignored everyone else in the team and basically pounced onto the grey haired boy, hugging him like a teddy bear.

- “YOU MAD LAD! YOU FUCKING DID IT KOUSHI! YOU WERE FUCKING AMAZING OUT THERE OH MY GOD HOLY SHIT!”

- It wasn’t until you gave him that bone crushing hug, did something finally click in his mind.

- Nishinoya and Tanaka were right.

- He was completely whipped for you.

✨Confession✨

- “Nishinoya, Tanaka, I need your help.”

- “What is it Suga-san?”

- “How do I confess to Y/N?”

- Noya and Tanaka went fucking nuts in the Karasuno gym, their energy suddenly coming back to them even after the long training they just went through as preparation for the Shiratorizawa match.

- “OH MY GOD IT’S HAPPENING EVERYBODY STAY CALM STAY FUCKING CALM-”

- “What the fuck is up with you three?”

- A very, very confused Kiyoko walked out of the storage room.

- “SUGA SAN’S GONNA CONFESS TO Y/N-”

- “OI NISHINOYA I DON’T NEED THE WHOLE WORLD KNOWING!”

- A devilish smirk was plastered on Kiyoko’s face.

- “So Sugawara, you’re finally gonna confess to her? Took you long enough.”

- Sugawara fiddled with his fingers, not knowing how to respond.

- “I mean, just do it man, she’s pretty fond of you too, I can see you two being a thing. Besides I know for a fact she likes someone, but she’d rather die than tell me who it is. Not that she’s not obvious enough though, I suggest you go for it.”

- That stuck with him for quite a while.

- The three spent the entire night texting Sugawara on how to get you to return his feelings, not knowing there was no need to do so at all.

- You knew that the days leading up to the match against Shiratorizawa, Sugawara was staying up all night beating himself up over not being able to contribute to the team directly. Not wanting to feel useless, he spent all his free time thinking of strategies to use against the powerhouse school.

- You constantly texted him, reminding him to get enough rest, not wanting for him to get overly stressed and wear himself out.

- He might’ve replied normally, but if he could, he would’ve sent you all the hearts he could.

- Before the match against Shiratorizawa, he presented all his new strategies and tricks to the team, hoping that could benefit them.

- Whilst the other members hesitated, you were slowly getting pissed.

- “Suga-san, are you sure these will wor-”

- That’s when you snapped.

- “Oi brats, listen up. Koushi didn’t stay up until ungodly hours every single day leading up to this match creating tricks and strategies, for you to doubt his abilities. He’s been beating himself up about not being able to be on the volleyball court for as long as I can tell. Please just trust his ideas for god’s sake. He’s one of the most experienced people here when it comes to strategising. Let him contribute to the match, since this could be his last.”

- The entire team was taken aback by your almost threatening demeanour.

- “Y-yes!”

- The strategies worked perfectly against Shiratorizawa.

- You could see the look on Suga’s face while he was on the bench.

- Determination. Pure determination.

- He was subbed in during the final set, and was able to snatch a few points for Karasuno.

- You’ve never been prouder.

- When the final spike hit the opposite court, you went silent for a second.

- “Holy shit... HOLY FUCK YES!”

- You watched as the three third years froze, before their chests heaved heavily.

- The three seniors bundled together in a tight group hug, bawling their eyes out.

- Both you and Kiyoko were silently sobbing, laughing through the tears.

- As the Karasuno third years got out fo their group hug, you took the chance.

- If this were under normal circumstances, there was absolutely no way in hell you would’ve done what you did.

- You dashed towards Sugawara, one thing in mind.

- “O-oh, hey-”

- Silence.

- Not a person in the stadium made one fucking sound as you grabbed his collar and kissed him with everything you bottled up.

- A now very, very flushed Sugawara went rigid for a second, before letting his eyes close as he stayed in that position, his lips curling up into a smile as he wrapped his arms around your torso.

- You both pulled away, knowing this couldn’t last forever. The stadium was silent for a moment, before even louder cheers erupted, this time the Shiratorizawa and Karasuno students joining in.

- “WAAAAAAAA~ SUGA-SAN YOU FINALLY GOT HER!” -Nishinoya

- “I FUCKING KNEW SHE LIKED YOU I SWEAR I FUCKING KNEW IT.” -Kiyoko

- “Congratulations, Sugawara. You seem very happy about this.” -Ushijima

-“FJKESUNWITHEFHJDSHFOIUWECTNWIOEYEFHDS” -Everyone in the crowd

- “AHHHH THEY FINALLY DID IT. IN FRONT OF LIVE TV TOO. ABSOLUTE MADLADS.” -Kuroo and the rest of Nekoma watching on TV

- “SUGAAAAAA! YOU FINALLY GOT WITH HER!” -Bokuto and the rest of Fukurodani watching on TV as well

- You wrapped your arms around his neck, nuzzling his head into your shoulder, feeling his face continue to burn as the Karasuno members whistled behind you guys.

- “I’m so fucking proud of you right now Koushi. You were absolutely insane out there. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

- “Thank you. Thank you so much. So, you wanna be my girlfriend?”

- “Fuck yeah.”

✨First date✨

- Oh boy.

- For someone that has had no dating experience whatsoever, Sugawara sure was good at planning dates.

- Since the day you guys started dating, you’ve basically been inseparable.

- Suga was also doing exceptionally well in classes and training.

- Once the weekend approached, he texted you at like 7am, while you were still sleeping,

- You woke your ass up at 11am, checking your phone to see Sugawara’s name on the screen, along with a few texts.

- ‘Hey, you wanna go out with me later?’ -Kou💕

- ‘There’s a new amusement park opening around here and my dad got two tickets. Told me to treat you to a date.’ -Kou💕

- ‘Just reply to me when you see all this, dw about it xx’ -Kou💕

- Was that even a question? Of course you were down.

- ‘Ooh, sounds good. What time?’ -You

- ‘Oh, you finally saw it lmao, I can come pick you up at 3?’ -Kou💕

- ‘Sure thing!! Cya xx’ -You

- The two of you went to the amusement park together, finally getting to hold hands because of the relationship finally fucking being confirmed.

- He was literally such a gentleman.

- A gentleman wearing an oversized sweater with jeans and a pair of converse, but a gentleman nevertheless.

- From around you guys, you heard girls swooning over you two.

- “Damn, I wish I had a boyfriend that was that cute.”

- “Sister really be blessed, he’s so tall too....”

- “Isn’t that one of the players on Karasuno that beat Shiratorizawa?”

- “Holy shit, you managed to make me even more jealous.”

- The entire day was spent going on rides together, (Much to Suga’s dismay, he had slight motion sickness.) and trying to get plushies from claw machines.

- He ended up getting you this really cute taco plush, and in return you got him a burger one.

- Wouldn’t let you pay for dinner.

- “If I take you out, then I’m paying for food. No questions asked.”

- You forced him to go into a haunted house with you at night.

- The entire time he held onto you protectively, shoving you out of the way when people jumped at you two.

- You clung onto him for dear life.

- That night you two joked around way more than you ever have while heading back home.

- This was definitely better than any fictional crush you’ve ever had.

- Not even fanfictions made you this happy.

- And that’s saying something.

Holy SHIT I FINALLY FINISHED THIS. It’s 3am here I should really sleep but do I really care about my health? I don’t think so! :D

I hope you like it xx😗👉👈

#haikyuu x reader #anime #sugawara koushi #hq x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #hq headcanons #hq #hq suga #sugawara x reader

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faerytale-au · 4 years

Text

Fire and Whiskey

Place: After “The Shopping Trip” Word Count: 2,844 Rating: T Prompt For Quarantined Frans Weeks: Day 7 [Progress] Cross Posted to a03 here!

@qfransprompts

Frisk looked at Sans curiously as they spawned back into existence, his eyelights instantly snapping to a door in front of them. She blinked as she looked up and read a simple sign carved into old oak ‘Grillby’s’.

“Sans? What is…” Her voice trailed off as she heard muffled laughter and the sounds of clanking dishware. She’d recognize those noises anywhere and wiggled her nose as she glanced over at her husband.

“Is this a bar?”

“heh, not just any bar. this place is the hot spot of most seelie gatherings within a couple hundred miles. thought you’d like to see how we fae relax, from time to time.” She raised a brow.

“When you said a date I admit, I didn’t expect this.” Sans smirked.

“good, means i’m doing my job of keeping you on your toes.” Lazily he stepped around her and reached forward to pull the door open. Right away Frisk was assaulted by a blast of warm air and explosive volume as the crowd erupted into laughter at something she couldn’t see.

Her heart raced and Sans saw the mild reaction of fear shoot across her face.

He instantly went to close it but her hand on his shoulder stopped him as she shut her eyes to take a small breath. Sans had forgotten this might be unsettling for someone who had been isolated like she had for a time.

After gathering her nerves she smiled at him reassuringly, much to his relief, and then stepped inside. A hush fell over the establishment as slowly eyes and flecks of light, crystalline gazes and stony stares locked on her.

Frisk froze but easily loosened back up as she felt Sans step up beside her.

“sup?” He called casually.

It took a moment but soon a parade of smiles and other positive expressions greeted him with enthusiasm, some by name and others by odd titles that she barely caught under the onslaught of noise.

The feeling of his skeletal hand on her back pulled her attention back to him. “you good?” A nod was all he needed before he started to guide her through the crowded space, his smile wide and eyelights brightening the more fae he greeted.

Frisk was pleasantly surprised. She had no idea Sans was so social and watched with a growing smile of her own the more he spoke and joked with the patrons they passed. He barely even had to look at someone for more than a moment before he was shooting questions.

Try as she might though there weren’t any names for her to pick out really, none that stuck out as significant or special in the way Sans spoke.

After what felt like an eternity they finally reached the bar and Frisk stopped in place, mildly throwing her lover off balance as he turned away from a half said hello to see what she was looking at.

He chuckled.

Of course.

Bony brow raising he held out his other hand and gestured to the mythical being that had caught her attention. “frisk, this is grillby, the owner and a good friend of mine. grillby, my girlfriend, frisk.”

She swallowed as she took in his form.

Half obscured by the bar all she could see was the top of him, but it was more than enough. He was tall, taller than Sans but not nearly as tall as Papyrus, and he was dressed in a simple ensemble one that looked as if it was spun from silk.

But what really stood out about him was the fact he was made of fire, golden fire, with hints of green flame tracing along the edge of his...hair? Which was slicked back, thicker in the front before tapering off, in appearance but still flickering where she could discern tips were.

“Frisk? Ah so this must be the new mage you brought home.” His voice was hard to describe. It was almost soothing the way it sounded, like a sting of hisses and crackles that blended but didn’t pop at the end.

Why she was focused on that and not the fact he was speaking without seemingly having a mouth she didn’t know. Her thoughts must have shone on her face because Sans leaned into her field of vision and wiggled his phalanges.

“maaagic.”

She frowned. “I knew you’d say that.”

Both he and Grillby laughed, the latter indicating two barstools for them to sit at.

“Have a seat, I’ll be with you both in just a moment, I was just about to go collect on a tab.” Sans felt a chill shoot down his spine and his eyelights momentarily went out before he forced them back into existence.

“uh, if you want we can come back later.” Frisk looked at him but Grillby’s fiery eyes filled with amusement.

“Nonsense. You’ve been going on about her for weeks now, I wish to meet her.” Frisk felt her cheeks burn. Sans had been talking about her? Giddiness and a gentle flare of happiness had her grinning at the skeleton.

“Has he?” The light blue in his cheekbones was satisfying. Grillby chuckled at the exchange as he leaned down and pulled out two menus, elegant black folders with a single stylized sheet of paper in it, the lettering in a fine delicate script.

“One moment.” Frisk watched as he excused himself and turned to a door at the far end of the bar and vanished through it. Literally vanished, he walked right through it leaving a flaming ripple that quickly dispersed into the air.

“Did he just--walk into that door?”

Sans looked at her. “i’m not the only one that has a few tricks.” Her cheeks got brighter.

“But his clothing…” Frisk had never spoken about clothing before, he didn’t even think she cared about such things. What about Grillby’s had her so focused on them? And Sans for the first time quietly felt a small tinge of irrational jealousy.

Welp, he didn’t know that was an emotion he was capable of.

He shook his skull and shrugged, merely wiggled his digits again teasingly as he peered down at the menu. The small groan she gave him was more than enough to stomp out that bizarre feeling in his bones as he pointed to something.

“this is what i usually get.” She leaned over to look and snorted.

“It’s called, ‘The Worst Burger On The Menu’? That’s very direct isn’t it?” Reading further it only seemed to live up to its name. It was simply a plain bun with an unseasoned slice of beef and cheese, but she did notice it was the cheapest. “Huh, okay I get why it’s called that.”

Sans smirked. “don’t dis it just yet babe. it may be considered the worst burger on the menu but anything grillby cooks tastes amazing. really this is the closest you can get to a discount.”

She smiled as she looked at the other items but decided she’d go with his suggestion, after all this was her first time here and Sans seemed to know what he was doing. Absently she closed the menu and turned slightly more towards him.

“So, what do you do on a date?” Sans had been looking down at the drinks when he blinked and slowly looked up at her.

“uh...did you not go on any dates while i was gone?” Not that he had any room to talk but there it was again, that suffocating sensation of silent envy that made him uncomfortable. What was with him tonight? “never mind scratch that i don’t want to know.”

Frisk for some reason though giggled and still answered him anyway. “No I didn’t.”

Sans pointedly ignored how that sent a bolt of warmth through his soul.

“well, on dates we just talk and hang out, get to know each other better.” She was thoughtful for a minute and then grinned smugly, a mischievous twinkle lighting up her yellow irises.

“Oh, then I have been on dates, several.” He stared at her and disliked the way his shoulders tensed at that. Frisk was enjoying watching him try not to shift in his seat as he spoke a little too easily, his tone dripping forced detachment.

“that so?” She hummed.

“Yep, with a certain skeleton. We used to talk and hang out all the time. Before he stood me up for three years.”

That didn’t make him uncomfortable at all.

“that is definitely not the same thing.” He deadpanned. The door to the back actually opened this time as Grillby reemerged and without missing a beat he was once more in front of Frisk again.

“Sorry for the wait, have you both decided on what you’d like?”

Sans handed the menus back. “two of your worst grillz.” Grillby’s fiery eyes curved in what Frisk could only read as false sweetness as he responded.

“Will that be going on your tab tonight?” Sans’s chuckle was awkward.

“nah, i’m paying this time.” Grillby’s face moved and Frisk imagined brows rising to his hairline as he panned his baffled expression over to her. His words were awed.

“What have you done to him?” Done to him? Frisk took a moment but as soon as she understood what he was implying she broke into a high pitched laugh. Sans’s glower at Grillby only lasted a moment before turning into a surprised stare as he watched her absolutely lose her mind.

Frisk...had never laughed like that before had she?

His eyelights precariously wavered and he instead shut his sockets as he enjoyed the light and breathy sound. When she calmed he was already reaching over and brushing a thumb against the back of her hand.

Frisk stiffened and demurely looked away as she slowly laced her fingers with his, making sure she gave Grillby an apologetic smile, but the flaming fae didn’t pay them any mind as he turned and went once more into the back room.

She took the opportunity.

“S-so…” Wow it was hard to concentrate holding Sans’s hand. “W-what kind of Seelie is Grillby?”

“hmm?” Sans blinked. “oh grillz? he’s a salamander.”

...A...Salamander…

“Grillby looked nothing like a lizard.” Sans choked and reluctantly let go of her hand to press his own against his sockets. He composed himself and gave Frisk an impish flash of his teeth.

“you haven’t seen him mad.” Frisk did not like the look on his face and her apprehension only grew as Grillby came back out and Sans looked suspiciously at one of the liquor bottles on one of the three shelves lining the wall.

He remembered the first time he’d seen a Salamander and he’d never forget it too. Who was he to deny Frisk such an experience? If anything she’d only learn from it, this would be educational, and a chance for her to marvel at the Fae species even more.

Sans had an idea.

“Here you are.” Grillby proceeded to set their food in front of them one at a time from his carrying tray. Sans let him get to Frisk’s before sneakily aiming for one of the more expensive booze bottles and focusing his magic to levitate it into one of the lower cabinets the bartender kept.

Frisk didn’t know if she should’ve stopped him or what to do. Sans was obviously about to pull a prank on the...salamander...and she wasn’t sure that was such a smart idea. He had told her countless stories of wars and other events that had happened between Fae just from a misread look in her youth.

And here he was acting like that wasn’t a big deal at all.

Should she somehow get a hold of Papyrus?

“hey grillz?” Grillby slipped his serving tray under his arm as he acknowledged Sans with a glance. The skeleton lifted one shoulder as he gestured to the liquor shelves. “mind giving me a shot of some of your fire whisky?”

The look he gave him was skeptical. “I thought you said you were paying tonight.”

Frisk took a hasty bite of her burger just as Sans frowned. Oh! She chewed a few more times as she focused on the burger. It was good! For one that didn’t have any toppings or condiments it was really savory.

“i will, c’mon it’s just one shot. not going to hold out on me are you?” Sans gave his best puppy eyes, well what his sockets would allow him. Grillby rolled his eyes in both annoyance and affection. Heh, he never could deny Sans anything, guy was a big softie.

Sans braced himself as Grillby turned and set his tray down only to stop as he noticed the sore thumb that was the empty slot on his lower shelf.

Grillby had two rules in his bar; one don’t start any fights, and two…

Don’t touch his booze without permission.

Ever.

“...Sans…” Frisk had to stop eating at how low Grillby said Sans’s name, the tone was light but the weight behind it sent tingles up her arms. Sans looked completely innocent as he lifted his burger and took a bite.

“yeah grillz?” He spoke around a mouthful.

The whole bar seemed to go silent, and the light around Grillby looked as if it was sucked out of the air and into his body as he simultaneously brightened. “Where’s my Fire Whiskey?”

“Uh…” Frisk went silent as she watched Sans continue to eat completely unfazed.

“why do you think i’d know?”

Grillby was unamused.

“Because it was there until you conveniently asked for it.” Something flickered in his eyes as he realized something, his flames surging for a moment as he looked over at Frisk before looking at Sans again. “Are you trying to get me riled?”

Sans deflated.

“don’t know what you mean--”

Grillby was suddenly in his face, the bartender’s eyes spreading and morphing into fiery draconic rounded slits as the hair that had been so pertinaciously slicked back sprung up and curved. His form wavered and went pulsing like an inferno, like the after image of visible heat in a desert.

Frisk jolted but didn’t scream, she was too mesmerized as the curving hair and two other jets of flame took shape into what she could only equate to an Axolotl’s Ferns to frame his face.

His body darkened and turned partly solidified at its core like magma as the wall of fire at where a mouth should’ve been suddenly split into a white hot jagged line to spill out a forked tongue of green flame.

That’s what Sans had meant!?

Sans smirked, the look on Frisk’s face exactly what he’d been aiming for.

But Grillby was having none of it.

“If you are pleased with yourself…” His voice was a hot and dark hiss but low enough that only Frisk and Sans could hear even in the thick silence of the bar. “Sans Aster Serif Skeleton, tell me where my alcohol is.”

Sans mentally cursed as a haze came over his mind and his tone came out a drone, the Salamander’s ability to use one’s full name against them compelling his answer. “the cabinet.”

Dangit.

Frisk felt her awe at Grillby’s form take a nosedive as her stomach twisted at how robotic and distant Sans seemed.

It was like Grillby had placed him under a spell and Sans did nothing but stare blankly as the salamander whipped around and threw the cabinet doors open.

“Thank you.” Like a snap the hold Sans felt broke.

He shook his skull and the look he shot Grillby shocked Frisk at the hostility she saw in it.

He looked angry.

Grillby on the other hand though seemed to relax, his form slowly changing back to what it had been before as he replaced the bottle on the shelf.

“Now.” Grillby turned back towards Frisk. “Sans mentioned you liked books.” She was so shocked at how easily he acted as if nothing had happened that she could only nod automatically.

Sans simply lifted his burger to finish eating.

At least Frisk hadn’t freaked out or anything when she’d seen a glimpse of Grillby’s true form and that had to be some progress at least. Sans was willing to bet if she’d seen him before settling in she’d have been terrified.

He looked at her from the corner of his socket as Grillby continued to speak to her.

Frisk really was adjusting to being around Seelie rather quickly. So much faster than any other mage he’d seen before and this was technically only her fourth time out of the house. There was a point he knew she would have been terrified of such a thing.

Maybe it wouldn’t be as long as he thought before she was happy with her new life. He could already see her practically glowing.

The way she cuddled against him later in the warmth of their home only solidified that hope and he couldn’t come to regret his failed prank with just how happy he felt.

Salamander’s were cool.

But Frisk’s happiness was cooler.

#fransfun #faerytale #prompts #quarantined fransweek #day 7 #progress #grillby #sans x frisk #adult frans #frans

131 notes · View notes

needdl · 4 years

Text

How to Baffle Your Genin Part Two

Part One

T_T this is so late and I’m very sorry

on the plus side, now i can advertise it as a piece for nejiweek AND for nejitenmonth! two for one deal here at needdl dot tumblr dot com

Read on AO3 or FFN

(quick note- Initially, I had selected the wrong document to post on fanfiction.net, but have since corrected it. As of right now, my browser is showing the correction, but if someone follows the fanfiction link and it’s still funky, please let me know!)

---

The next Tomoe and those other genins met Tenten was under very different circumstances.

It’d been almost five months, filled with training and yelling at each other and a few handfuls of successful missions. Neji-sensei was looking slightly less haggard now, since they almost got along with each other, but every once in a while Tomoe would toss one of ‘em into a stream, just to show who was boss.

(It was her, bitches.)

The three of them had just returned from their fifth ever C-rank mission- a week spent guarding an outer defense post of Konoha, not terribly exciting- with a woman named Kurenai as their jounin instructor.

Neji-sensei had told them that he would not be accompanying them on the mission for a few reasons, none of which he shared with them. Before they could argue with him- well, Higuma and Akari wanted to argue with him, Tomoe personally didn’t care that he apparently was just fucking abandoning them, like he hadn’t spend time training them and getting to know them and buying them lunch, nope, she didn’t give a fuck-

Anyway, he’d introduced them to Kurenai, who looked fucking frail as hell but turned out to be all right as she coaxed them through the mission. Way too nice, but whatever.

They got back to Konoha and made the obligatory stop to the Hokage’s office for their report- and Kurenai had hugged that Nara advisor before chatting with him for a good long while, which was weird- and as they were exiting the room they ran into Tenten.

Not literally, obviously. She was sitting in one of the chairs outside the Hokage’s office, dressed in mission attire, staring into space and looking tired and almost ill.

A few seconds after they’d exited- shitty reaction time- she turned her head over to look at them, assessing them with a sort of dull interest. “Ah, hello. Been a while. Well, not with you, Kurenai.” The older woman smiled neutrally in response.

“Hullo, Hyuga-san,” Akari chirped.

She smiled wryly. “Tenten-san is fine.” She stood and started walking towards the Hokage’s office, stretching her arms. “Nice seeing you.”

The encounter was over almost as quickly as it had begun. All three genin turned to watch her enter the Hokage’s office, the door snapping shut behind her.

“...huh,” Higume finally said. “That was, uh. Low-key.”

“Especially after last time,” Akari agreed. They both unsubtly stared at Tomoe.

She scowled and kicked the ground. “Hmph.”

“Since we’re all wrapped up here,” Kurenai said delicately, “Let’s head out.”

They made the walk down the stairs and out of the building. A truly impressive amount of people called out greetings to Kurenai, or chatted with her as they walked. Neji-sensei didn’t get nearly the same response when he was with them- people greeted him occasionally, but usually just stuck to nods.

Once outside the building, Kurenai reminded them, “Neji wanted me to remind you that you’ll have training in two days, usual field and time.” They all nodded, and she smiled. “Well then. See you around, all right?” They all split up, heading back to their respective homes. About fucking time.

---

Two days later, Tomoe arrived early to the training grounds to go through her warm ups, stretching out and doing some wind sprints.

Neji-sensei showed up exactly on time and spent the next five minutes trying to coax some conversation out of her as he did his own warm-ups: stretches, a fuck ton of pushups, squats, and hip extensions, then some very intense katas. (All the while maintaining a conversation-ish thing with her, and never once losing his breath. At least she knew he was competent.)

When Akari and Higuma finally showed up fifteen and seventeen minutes later, respectively, he had them each run an extra lap for every minute they’d been late, which was great. You’d think after almost a year spent training at the same time pretty much every day they’d have started coming on time, but nope.

Neji-sensei worked with her on her Crystal technique while her teammates finished their laps. She was trying to increase the distance, speed, and the accuracy of her attacks, which usually meant trying to spear Neji-sensei with them as he worked his way over to her from the end of the field.

So far she hadn’t been successful in stopping him from knocking her into the dirt, but at least it took him about seven seconds longer now.

Once the extras had finally finished their laps, they all worked on fine tuning their chakra control on moving water and got pretty damp by the time lunch rolled around.

They all had packed lunches today, since Neji-sensei always told them when he’d buy it for them ahead of time. Tomoe chewed her rice unhappily. She knew she should’ve asked her mom for her karaage recipe before she left on her mission, but they’d just missed each other and now her bento sucked.

As usual, Neji-sensei had a note in his lunch, and just like every-single-other-fucking time he read it with a soft smile. Seriously, every single day and you’d think he’d be used to it. (Akari used to wonder about who wrote the notes, but had shut up about it since they met his family. Because, obviously.)

Akari eyed the note with a glint in her eye, then chirped, “Sensei, how’s your family doing?”

“Very well, thank you.” He folded the note back up and tucked it into one of the hidden pockets of his vest.

“We saw Tenten-san after we reported on our mission the other day,” Akari continued thoughtfully. “She looked, um, a little tired.”

He hummed thoughtfully as he split apart his fish. “I see. She’s been having some morning sickness, so that is likely why.”

A frozen silence as they all digested his words, then Higuma blurted, “What?”

“She’s pregnant, idiot,” Tomoe told him scathingly.

“Sensei, she’s pregnant?!” Akari was vibrating in excitement, and when Neji-sensei nodded in confirmation she leapt to her feet. “HOLY SHIT!- pardon my language.”

Neji-sensei smiled broadly. “It’s all right, Akari. That was Tenten’s reaction as well.”

Akari immediately started bombarding him with questions, and Tomoe poked sourly at her chicken. There went their peaceful lunch break.

(At least it explained some things about the shadows under Tenten’s eyes when they saw her. She wasn’t dying.)

“Wait, Sensei,” Higuma said suddenly, “If she’s pregnant, um, shouldn’t- um, shouldn’t she not be going on missions? She was, um, reporting to the Hokage-”

Neji-sensei raised his hand in placation. “She’s available for combat missions until the end of her first trimester, then after that it’s diplomatic or trade missions until her doctor says otherwise. In any case, she’s not officially listed for combat missions anymore since she started the store and spends most of her time focused on that.”

Higuma digested the new information thoughtfully, then asked, “So, uh. So why was she reporting to the Hokage the other day?”

“She had been planning a trip to the Kusagakure for the shop, and Naruto asked her to bring along some official documents as well. Much to Hui Na’s disappointment, because she couldn’t bring her along if it was an official mission.”

Akari suddenly started sputtering on her lunch. After a hasty gulp of water, she blurted, “Does Tenten-san bring your kids on trips abroad, Sensei?”

“Occasionally. Haruki only just became old enough to bring without me there as well.”

“Woooooooow,” Akari breathed. Her eyes were shining.

“It’s part of why I was unavailable for your last mission.” Neji-sensei took the last bite of his lunch. He’d somehow eaten the rest of it during the conversation. “I needed to be home to watch Haruki and mind the shop during the day. I also wanted to see how well you all got along with Kurenai, as I’d like her to train you further in genjutsu.”

“Really?” Tomoe inwardly winced as they all swiveled to look at her. Whatever, Neji-sensei had surprised her so she’d just blurted it out.

After a beat, he nodded. “She’s one of the best in the village, even though she’s semi-retired.” He put aside his chopsticks, hesitated for such a short second that Tomoe might have imagined it, then added, “She was my cousin’s sensei all the way up until she was a jonin, so we’ve established a professional relationship.”

Tomoe watched him thoughtfully as Akari continued bombarding him with questions. He was more than happy to talk about his wife and children, but all other aspects of his family-

He surged to his feet suddenly, smirking at them in a way that meant trouble. “Break is over. Time to practice stealth- if I catch you, you’re in for it. Thirty seconds.”

With much swearing, they scattered.

---

The next time they saw Tenten was only a week later, when she came by their taijutsu practice with a bag of food, the toddler, and a pink-haired woman.

The toddler immediately ran to Neji-sensei and physically climbed up him to hug his neck, while the pink-haired woman was tackle-hugged by Lee-san, who had been helping them with their taijutsu that day.

It was so chaotic that they barely registered Tenten coming over until she was directly in front of them.

“Hey, kiddos,” she said casually, like she hadn’t induced two hurricanes in their practice yard. “We brought you some daifuku-”

“No, mama! Mama! I want to give it to them!” It was a wonder that Neji-sensei hadn’t gone deaf.

“Then you need to climb down and hand it to them, love bug.”

The kid pouted in thought, then cupped his tiny hand around Neji-sensei’s ear and whispered something.

Their sensei silently walked over so the kid could grab the bag from Tenten, still cradled in his arms. She scowled at her husband.

“You spoiler,” she said accusingly.

“I am not,” he replied indignantly, and kissed the kid’s temple as he happily rustled through the bag.

A few minutes later, they had each been handed a container of homemade daifuku by an elated child, and Higuma was speed-eating his happily. Akari and Tomoe had one each, watching as the kid chased Lee-san around while the pink-haired woman spoke with Neji-sensei and his wife in private.

The daifuku was pretty good, Tomoe admitted to herself grudgingly. She’d have to get the recipe to share with her mom.

Eventually Neji-sensei wrapped up whatever conversation he was having, and he and pink-hair came back over to the students while Tenten went to chase Lee.

Upon closer look, Tomoe recognized Sakura Uchiha, head of the children’s hospital, Slug Sannin’s disciple, overall badass. She smiled cheerily at them and gave a little wave when Neji-sensei introduced her, but he pressed on before they could say anything back.

“In two weeks I will be undergoing surgery and will be unable to train you until I’ve recovered sufficiently, about four weeks-”

“Six,” Uchiha-san snapped.

Neji-sensei’s expression got very curt. “Five.”

“This isn’t a negotiation.”

“Six weeks is too long a time to force my students-”

“I don’t care how long you think your recovery period should be. That’s not your choice to make.”

Higuma and Tomoe made eye contact, both of them feeling quite awkward. Akari was watching the back-and-forth keenly.

“If I have sufficiently healed-”

“You won’t have, so there’s no point in making hypotheticals. Six. Weeks.”

Neji-sensei’s jaw was visibly clenched. “In any case, Kurenai and Lee will be training with you on genjutsu and taijutsu respectively in that time period.”

Tomoe’s stomach felt like it had hit her feet, but she said nothing. He continued, “I will be available to help with any chakra theory, however, after-”

“-two.”

“-two weeks, thank you, Sakura…”

“You’re welcome.” She disregarded his obvious irritation and leaned back to stretch. “I could take a day to teach medical ninjutsu.”

He swiveled his head sharply to look at her. “Oh?”

“Sure. I mean, why not? I’ll talk to Lee and Kurenai-san about arranging a day.”

“...That would be very helpful, thank you.”

“Six weeks,” she reiterated harshly. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you never acknowledged it. I’ll be telling Tenten, too, so don’t try anything otherwise- except, no, she’d just as stupid as you about this sort of thing, isn’t she?”

Neji-sensei looked smug as he crossed his arms over his chest. Uchiha-san scowled at him. “I’ll tell Hui Na, then, and her big sad eyes will keep you in recovery the whole time.”

His smirk fell. Now he was clearly disgruntled, and Tomoe choked back her laugh.

Haruki smacked into Neji-sensei’s legs a few seconds later, screaming his head off- apparently Lee-san had turned the tables and was now chasing after him and Tenten- and in the following commotion and efforts to subdue it the students found themselves dismissed from practice without ever asking why the fuck Neji-sensei was getting surgery in the first place.

(Or without getting a good appraisal of Tenten, to see how pregnant she looked.)

---

The time flew by, and soon enough they had already been training with Kurenai on genjutsu for a week and a half. It felt like Neji-sensei had just disappeared, though he’d kept up constant reminders about when he would be taking his medical leave.

They’d managed to get him to explain that the surgery was a follow-up for war injuries he’d sustained years ago, and that while his life was in no way endangered he and his wife had decided it would be better if he was rested and recovered before the TWINS were born.

Yes, they were having fucking TWINS.

But that was practically the last day before he’d gone on leave, and they’d heard fuck-all since.

“I think we should visit his wife’s weapon shop,” Akari said snidely. They technically didn’t have training that day, but Higuma had asked Tomoe to help him with some genjutsu practice and somehow Akari had ended up there too.

And now she was doing what she usually did and trying to get them all to do something SHE wanted to do but wouldn’t do by herself.

“Don’t you think they’re probably pretty busy right now?” Higuma got nasally when he was tired. “If she’s pregnant, and he just had surgery, plus they have two other kids-”

“Ugh, so what’s YOUR plan?”

“Ask Lee-san when he trains with us next week.”

“I don’t wanna wait that long! Tomoe, YOU come with me to the shop.”

“Hard pass.” Tomoe slid the whetstone across her kunai with a sharp shhk that made Akari flinch. She set the kunai aside, satisfied.

“Well, you were just saying the other day that you needed more kunai,” Higuma said thoughtfully. Tomoe sent him a death glare, but he didn’t even flinch. He was too used to her now.

“...I’m going on our day off for more kunai. If I see you there, I see you there.”

“YES!” Akari shot both fists in the air. “I ALWAYS GET WHAT I WANT!”

“I hate her,” Tomoe told Higuma. He shrugged, unbothered.

---

Akari and Higuma were both waiting for her outside the weapons shop the next day. They looked suspicious as hell.

“You look suspicious as hell.”

“Get fucked.”

For some reason, they stopped in unison outside the shop and stared through the window. Tomoe’s eyebrows shot up at the crowd of people around the main counter. Tenten was sitting behind the counter, looking a little green, while two women spoke with her. They watched just in time for one of the women to slyly murmur something that made the other woman flush scarlet and smack her arm.

Tenten just threw her head back and roared with laughter.

Feeling awkward over staring, Tomoe shoved the door open and strode inside. Higuma scrambled to follow her, and a beat later so did Akari.

The three women swivelled to look at them, and Tomoe’s step almost faltered at the two pale Hyuga gazes that swept over them. Even as used as she was to Neji-sensei, other Hyugas could be somewhat unsettling.

Both women smiled, and the feeling eased.

“Oh, I know this,” One of them said. “Tomoe, Akari, Higuma.” She pointed at each of them respectively when she declared their names, and Tomoe physically had to restrain herself from snarling in response.

She did not like it when people knew about her, okay?

Akari apparently didn’t either. “Sure. Who are you?”

The woman snickered. “I’m Hanabi.”

Thrown off by such a frank answer, Akari floundered. “Uh. Well. Why do you know us?”

“I don’t,” she retorted, still grinning. “I know Neji-nii and Tenten-nee-”

“Shut the fuck up,” Tenten muttered. Hanabi grinned. The yet unnamed woman looked mildly horrified.

“And by proxy, I know you, since Neji-nii won’t shut up about you idiots.”

“We are idiots,” Higuma said thoughtfully.

“Maybe you are,” Tomoe snapped.

“Yeah, don’t loop us in your shit.”

Tomoe and Akari nodded at each other in resounding agreement before Akari turned back to the woman. “I didn’t know Neji-sensei had a sister.”

“You probably don’t know a lot of things,” the woman said happily. “Too easy.”

Akari puffed up, rage in every line of her face. The other woman said firmly, “Hanabi. No need to antagonize them.”

“It’s so fun and easy, though.”

“Okay-” Tenten shoved herself to her feet, and they all goggled a little bit. She was definitely pregnant. It wasn’t a huge belly, or anything, but it was unmistakable. “Hanabi, go bother my children instead.”

“As opposed to bothering Neji’s children, huh?”

“Scram, brat.”

“I am twenty-eight, Tenten-nee, don’t you think I’m a little old to be called that?”

“Hinata,” Tenten said plaintively. The newly-named Hinata told Hanabi, “Go show Boruto those katas from last month.”

Hanabi sent them one last teasing smirk before turning to walk out through the back. “See ya, Neji babies.”

“Kami. Don’t let Haruki ever hear you call them that, he’ll have a meltdown.” Tenten rubbed her eyes as the door shut behind the woman’s pealing laughter, then looked back at the genin. “Sorry about her, she’s actually the worst person to ever exist-”

Hinata giggled, then looked deeply ashamed.

“-anyway. What’s up?”

Tomoe shrugged. “I’m here to shop. They’re here to snoop.”

“Incorrect,” Higuma said. “I’m here because I’m bad at standing up for myself.”

“I’m here to snoop,” Akari declared.

Tomoe ignored them to shop for her kunai.

---

Hinata was probably one of the most beautiful women she’d ever seen, Akari decided.

Not just physically- not to throw it out, or anything, she had big eyes lined with thick eyelashes, her hair was a shimmering blue, her face finely boned, she had full, soft-looking lips-

Okay. Anyway.

She was also soft-spoken, earnest, and very kind, and talking to her was easily the highlight of Akari’s week so far. (To be fair, the week had kind of sucked, since Neji-sensei was gone.)

“Wait, so you’re not Neji-sensei’s sister?”

“I’m his cousin, but we’re quite close.”

“Oh. Hey, what was sensei like as a kid?”

“... Ah, well, I suppose he was quite similar to how he was now, if a little more hot-headed.”

“The fiery passions of youth,” Tenten agreed, then she snickered.

Tomoe suddenly appeared in front of the counter and slammed down two kunai sets. “This one’s got a steel handle and this one’s titanium. Which is better.”

Akari was about to reprimand her for the way she “asked” the question- it was more of a demand, really- but Tenten looked like her birthday had come early. She and Tomoe were suddenly in the kunai section as the woman gleefully gestured at the selection and yammered away.

Tomoe didn’t even seem pissed. Her scowl was more of concentration variety than rage. She really had come so far.

Higuma had apparently gotten bored of the various conversations and was walking around the room, poking at some of the weapons. Akari wanted to tell him to stop, but Hinata had started softly retelling a story about herself and Neji-sensei playing in a garden when they were younger, and her attention was quickly diverted.

There was the sound of a door closing, and feet slamming on the ground as someone ran up to the front of the shop from the back.

“Hey, Mom!”

“Auntie!”

“MOM!”

Several someones, perhaps.

“Wait, should I call her mom too?”

“Yeah, definitely!”

“Nice. Moooooom!”

That appeared to just be Hanabi having a good time.

Three people burst through the back door, Hanabi a few steps behind them, and all started talking at once. Akari caught a glimpse of two dark-haired heads and one blonde one before they all lined up in front of where Hinata was sitting.

Over the chorus of voices and Hanabi gleefully calling Hinata “mom” about eighty times in a row, Akari glanced up at Hinata, who looked like she’d aged slightly in the last thirty seconds. She raised her hand, and the voices quieted. “Yes?”

“Can you show Hui Na your Twin Lion Fists? She’s never seen it!” That was Blondie- wait, shit, that was the Hokage’s son.

Gears started turning in Akari’s head. Oh, damn.

“Please, Auntie?” Hui Na said, clasping her hands together. “Boruto and Hima said that you made it up all by yourself!”

“Of course!” Hinata smiled broadly at them. “I haven’t done it in a while, though, so we’ll see how good I am at it now.”

Hui Na twisted her fingers together, looking excited, while the two other kids whooped in delight and started jumping around.

Akari stared at Boruto-senpai, wide-eyed. Eek, he was so cute this close!

She caught Hui Na looking at her and grinned. “Hi, Hui Na-chan! How are you?”

“U-um! Hi, Akari-san! I am doing very well, thank you for asking!”

Hinata got to her feet. “Tenten, is it alright if we use the back?”

“Of course.” Tenten crossed to the cash register and started ringing up a kunai set and two sai for Tomoe, who was looking grouchily excited about her new weapons. “The shed has some targets and a few stealth sets, if you’re interested. Hui Na can show you where.”

She cast her eye over Akari, gaping at Boruto, and then Higuma, also gaping at Boruto. “Why don’t you all go? Once I’m done helping Tomoe we’ll join you.”

“I haven’t agreed to that,” Tomoe muttered.

“It’s a pretty neat jutsu.”

“...Hn.”

The crowd of people was beginning to head towards the back again, so Akari grabbed Higuma’s wrist and dragged him after them. “Tomoe, you have to come so we can go get shaved ice together later!”

“I never agreed to that either!”

“It’s hot out, we’re getting shaved ice!”

Higuma, stumbling slightly behind her, mused, “I don’t think I agreed to do that either, technically.”

“Shut up, Higuma, you have no say in this.”

“I know,” he said mournfully.

They tumbled out into the backyard just behind the others. Akari tried not to blush at the appraising look Boruto-senpai sent them and failed.

She dragged Higuma up to stand next to her, and felt slightly better seeing that he was blushing too.

Hui Na and the other girl- Akari had kind of skipped over her when she was there earlier, which she felt guilty about- were helping Hanabi set up a training dummy, while Hinata was slowly clenching and unclenching her hands. Boruto was now watching her, an eager glint in his eye.

“Mom, when’s the last time you used Twin Lion Fists?”

“Oh, years. Not since before Himawari was a baby, I think.”

“But she can still kick your butt, Boruto-nii!” The girl punched the air excitedly. Upon closer look, she had the distinctive eyes and whisker marks of the Hokage, but her hair was more like Hinata’s.

Himawari, Akari remembered.

She grabbed Hui Na’s hand and started jumping up and down in excitement, and after a few seconds Hui Na started jumping too.

Akari grinned at them as they started chanting in time to their jumps. It must have been fun to have a cousin the same age as you.

“Go mom! Go mom! Go mom!”

“Go auntie, go auntie, go auntie!”

Hinata laughed softly. “Let me warm up a little, please.” She started moving through a few slow katas that looked a lot like the ones Neji-sensei did, only he did his much faster. A few moments later she activated her Byakugan and sent chakra pulsing over her palms, her katas steadily increasing in speed.

Akari watched carefully, enthralled.

Hinata seemed to decide she was sufficiently prepared and abruptly stopped. “All right. Now, what did you want the training dummy for?”

“Kill him!” Himawari hollered.

“Yeah!” Boruto-senpai grinned. “Knock his head off!”

Hui Na nodded fervently, eyes locked on her aunt.

Hanabi laughed, then cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled, “Get his ass!”

A hastily-stifled snort came from behind them, and they swivelled to look at Tenten as she walked the last few paces over to where they were. Tomoe trailed behind her, fiddling with her new sai.

“Don’t swear around the kiddies, Hanabi.”

“What, like they haven’t heard it all before! Are you suggesting that you censor yourself in front of Hui Na? In front of Neji’s genin?”

“I am a paragon of grace.”

“Yeah, right!” Boruto-senpai pointed accusingly at her, but still grinned. “I learned the word ‘shit’ from you!”

“Boruto.” Hinata’s tone was decidedly deadly, and his expression faltered. “Sorry, mom.”

She eyed him for a few more seconds before turning to face the dummy again. “All right.”

Suddenly her hands blazed with chakra, and Akari gaped at the distinctive shape of a lion’s angry roar.

It was a colossal, swirling vortex of blue chakra, and as Hinata raised her hands and charged the training dummy, Akari numbly wondered why she hadn’t heard of Hinata before, in all her research.

The dummy was pretty much wiped off the face of the earth a few seconds later, splinters and pieces of fabric flying wildly through the air. Hui Na and her cousins were cheering wildly from the sides as Hanabi roared with laughter at their delighted dancing.

“Huh,” Higuma muttered next to her. He looked pretty impressed, not that Akari could blame him.

“YOSH!” That distinctive bellow could belong to one person and one person only, and Akari didn’t even bother turning to look at Lee-san as she watched the last of the dust drift through the air. “THAT WAS SPECTACULAR, HINATA!”

“Thank you, Lee.” Hinata said. She brushed off her hands idly, smiling at Lee behind them all, then said to him, “Neji-niisan, it’s good to see you up and walking again!”

Wait.

Akari and Higuma whirled around at the same time, staring past Tenten’s smirking face and the back of Tomoe’s head to gape at Neji-sensei. His smile back was a little smug.

“Thank you, Hinata. Hello students.”

They all mumbled out a greeting, still staring. He looked more or less fine, with a few bandages visible under the neckline of his robes.

He was with Lee-san, obviously, and his son was sitting in the lap of a man in a wheelchair behind them. Lee-san’s father, perhaps; they certainly looked a lot alike. But the kid wasn’t there for long, of course, as he scrambled over to his mother to put both palms over her belly and started yelling greetings at the babies.

Tenten looked very tired in that moment, and Akari tried not to feel amused at all, because it would have been very rude. Tomoe, being an asshole, openly snickered. Tenten reached out and whiffed the back of her head, which just turned the snickers into guffaws.

That done, the kid skipped off to tackle Boruto-senpai.

Neji-sensei had continued walking towards them as they watched the mayhem of a toddler beating on his older cousin, and cleared his throat quietly to get their attention

They whipped around to face him. Up close, Akari could see the shadows under his eyes had gotten more pronounced.

“It’s good to see you all. How has your training been going with Kurenai so far?”

“Good,” they chorused. Higuma added, “I’m actually pretty good at genjutsu, which was surprising for all of us.” Akari hid her smirk by ducking her chin.

“You do have an affinity towards it.” Neji-sensei smiled slightly, shifting his gaze over Akari and Tomoe. “And you two?”

“I suck at it,” Tomoe said uncaringly. Akari nodded. “Same.”

“Higuma is my favorite genin for the week, then.”

“What?”

“Ahhh, no fair, sensei!”

“HA!”

There was a loud “AHEM-HEM!” behind them, which Neji-sensei ignored. “If you find that you want to develop your genjutsu further after this week, Higuma, let me know and I can arrange for you to study further with Kurenai-san or another specialist.”

“Uh, sure.” Higuma, like Akari and Tomoe, was fixated on the man behind Neji-sensei, who was somehow managing to puff himself up as he turned steadily redder. Neji-sensei still ignored his loud throat clearing.

“You have trained with Lee before, so you are familiar with his style of-”

Akari made eye contact with the man, and was shot a gigantic, sparkling grin.

“SINCE OUR DEAR NEJI SEEMS TO HAVE DECIDED TO IGNORE ME, I SEE I HAVE NO CHOICE BUT TO INTRODUCE MYSELF!”

He gave them a flourishing thumbs-up, then bellowed, “IIIIII AM GAI MAITO, KONOHA’S NOBLE GREEN BEAST!”

He pivoted in his wheelchair to bring his arms above his head in another exuberant pose. “AAAAANNND I AM LEE, NEJI, AND TENTEN’S GENIN SENSEI AND CHUNIN TEAM LEADER!”

Another pose. “AAAAANNND, MOST IMPORTANTLY, I AM HARUKI AND HUI NA’S GRANPOP!”

“AND THE BABIES! GRANPOP, THE BABIES!”

“THAT IS TRUE, HARUKI! WHEN THE BABIES ARE BORN, I WILL BE THEIR GRANPOP AS WELL!”

Tomoe, who had always been a little more sensitive to loud noises, grimaced and tucked her head a little closer to her shoulders. Neji-sensei watched her with a frown, then cleared his throat. “Gai.”

“Ah. Anyway, hello, dear grandstudents! It’s a pleasure to meet you!”

“Ack,” Higuma muttered, flustered. Gai-san’s grin was wide and friendly, but being referred to as “grandstudents” was decidedly bewildering, if also cute as hell.

Akari bowed neatly to Gai-san. “And it’s very nice to meet you, sir!” Higuma hastily echoed her, and Tomoe grudgingly inclined her head and shoulders. Gai-san sparkled at them, practically vibrating.

“Now then, I’ve spoken to Neji about your training, of course, but I’d like to hear from you as well! What do you think of your sensei?”

It felt like a loaded question, and Akari couldn’t help but eye Neji-sensei out of the corner of her eye. “Uh…”

He huffed out the slightest suggestion of a laugh, then said, “I think I will become completely engrossed in conversation with my cousins and teammates for no particular reason.” He gave them all a slight smirk before turning and joining the other adults in conversation as their respective children chased each other wildly around the training yard.

Gai-san watched him go, then snapped his attention back to the genin and said, “Quick, talk shit while you can!”

“Gai!” Neji-sensei was apparently not very engrossed in conversation yet.

Gai-san had the grace to look a little ashamed, but also let out a rolling chuckle, pleased with himself. “Oh, dear. My husband’s influence, there.”

“Or mine!” Tenten volunteered gleefully.

“That is true, my youthful buttercup! You have the mouth of a sailor. Frankly I don’t know where you learned such language, despite my teachings of chivalry.”

“Kakashi.”

“Ah, that would make sense. You know, the other day he told me-”

“Gai.” Neji-sensei pinched his brow. “I thought you wanted to talk to my students?”

“AHA! That’s right!”

He pointed dramatically, then bellowed, “I quite forgot what we were talking about!”

Akari fought back a scream.

“It doesn’t matter,” Neji-sensei cut in swiftly, “Haruki-chan and I-”

“Baba-!” The kid twisted his face, distressed. He’d climbed on top of Boruto-senpai's shoulders and had seemed quite happy there a minute ago.

“-Haruki-kun and I need to head home.” The kid turned back to his cousin, satisfied at being so addressed.

Akari felt herself deflate a little, disappointed that Neji-sensei would be leaving so soon. A ten minute conversation after a week of absence did not make up for the lost time, in her humble and also very correct opinion.

Higuma also frowned, looking even more mopey than usual. Tomoe clenched her jaw.

Abruptly she said, “I got the weapons I wanted, so I’m leaving too.”

Akari flared up with indignation. “Not without us you’re not! Shaved ice, remember?”

Tomoe rolled her eyes. “It’ll taste the same with or without me there.”

“It’s because we want to spend time with you, you asshole!”

That actually made Tomoe laugh, a rarely heard but surprisingly pleasant sound. “Why would you want to spend time with me if I’m an asshole?”

“Because I’m that nice!”

“You are not-”

“KAMI.” Higuma buried his face in his hands. “LET’S JUST GO GET THE STUPID ICE. YOU GUYS ARE EMBARRASSING MY IN FRONT OF OUR GRAND-SENSEI.”

Gai-san let out a rolling stream of chortles at that, and Neji-sensei smiled a little. “Haruki-kun,” he called. “Time to go home.”

The kid threw him an absolutely devastated look from his spot cuddled against Himawari-chan’s legs. Neji-sensei merely held out his hand in invitation, and the kid reluctantly dragged himself away from his cousin and started desperately hugging his relatives goodbye like he was never going to see them again.

Tenten squatted down to kiss him goodbye, the movement as smooth as anything they’d ever seen from her, and he flung his arms around her neck and bawled, “Bye, mama, I love you!”

“Sweetling, I’ll be home with Hui Na before dinnertime.”

“I know, but I’ll MISS you!”

Tenten made direct eye contact with Akari over the top of his head. “Every time,” she said flatly. Akari couldn’t stifle her giggles.

Haruki finally rushed over to Neji-sensei to take his proffered hand, his sadness apparently already forgotten in the joy of holding hands with his father. Neji-sensei shifted his son’s hand in his grip, then nodded goodbye to his family as they departed through the alleyway to the front street.

Tomoe let out the tiniest scoffing noise, then started to walk after them. Akari took a few steps after her, realized Higuma wasn’t following, twirled back to grab his arm, and then hastily dropped into a bow towards the adults.

“It was very nice to meet you, Hinata-san, Gai-san, Hanabi-san! And thank you for having us again, Tenten-san!”

She straightened and caught Hui Na’s gaze. “Nice to see you, Hui Na-chan!”

The girl flushed a little and waved her hand in enthusiastic goodbye. Satisfied, Akari tightened her grip around Higuma’s arm and took off after Tomoe.

---

Higuma allowed himself to blissfully zone out as he trailed after his teammates and sensei. It was so nice to just turn off his brain sometimes and ignore Akari’s constant talking.

The most recent thing he’d paid attention to was Akari and Tomoe arguing over which shaved ice stand to go to, eventually deciding on the one that just happened to be closer to where Neji-sensei and the kid lived.

He wasn’t complaining (for once), and he also wasn’t going to call out Tomoe for stubbornly insisting on going to this one, even though he knew for a fact she had a few other ones she liked more in the exact opposite direction. She wanted to walk with Neji-sensei for as long as possible, and if she wasn’t so terrifying he’d think it was nice.

In any case, Akari had started blabbering soon after that, so Higuma just let his eyes unfocus as his brain went foggy. Sure, it’d be a habit he’d have to curb on missions, but here in the village it wasn’t as though he was in danger-

In his next step, he smacked into Tomoe’s back as she stopped walking. They both let out undignified noises, and Neji-sensei and Akari both turned to look from where they’d pulled ahead.

(The kid, for his part, was clearly just having a good time swinging off Neji-sensei’s hand, and was paying them absolutely no attention.)

“Watch where you’re going,” Tomoe snapped at him, pink-faced.

“Sorry,” Higuma said automatically, his mind already fogging over again. Tomoe tch-ed, clearly able to tell he wasn’t really paying attention, but fell into step beside him. They followed after the others until they reached the shaved ice stand. Higuma was surprised (but also not really, because kids and sweets) to see Neji-sensei buy a small amount of shaved ice for Haruki after they had gotten their servings.

Higuma ate his ice in about a minute and then spent the remainder of the walk to Neji-sensei’s house nursing the resulting brainfreeze mournfully. Tomoe eyed him smugly out of the corner of her eye, clearly knowing the source of his discomfort, and he elbowed her lovingly in the ribs.

He tried to pay attention to what Akari was yammering about to Neji-sensei, he really did, but it was so much easier to just stare idly up at all the birds passing by.

It was a bit of a surprise for him when they arrived at Neji-sensei’s house, but it was even more of a surprise when Neji-sensei let his kid run up to the door, then turned to them and offered, “Would you care to come in for tea? I’d like to discuss your training so far.”

“BABA, THE DOOR’S LOCKED!” Haruki-kun gripped the door handle, then let his full body weight swing underneath it to illustrate his point. Neji-sensei said, just a little sharper than they’d heard him address his kid before, “Haruki. What have we said about pulling on things like that?”

He let go and then plopped down on the front step, looking impatient. Neji-sensei turned back to them.

“Tea?”

“Sure!” Akari clearly thought she was speaking for all of them, which, yes, but she could be less presumptuous about it.

They followed Neji-sensei up the walk to the front door, where the kid had slumped over in apparent boredom. He perked up as Neji-sensei unlocked the door, but Higuma thought he walked in the house quite sedately, all things considered.

Neji-sensei stepped in next, and they all followed with a great deal of anticipation.

Higuma’s first impression was that it was quite bright inside the house. He looked directly into a sunbeam and then spent the next two minutes blinking the spots out of his eyes.

Once he had regained his vision, he looked around the room Neji-sensei had led them into. It was probably the main room for entertaining guests, if the low tables and cushions were anything to go by.

Neji-sensei excused himself to go make tea and deal with the kid- Higuma heard him say something about “quiet time”- and Akari instantly shot to her feet to snoop around the room.

Higuma groaned. “Akari, don’t-”

“I’m curious!” She defended. “Plus, it’s the guest room and guests are meant to look around!”

“I don’t think that logic is true…”

She ignored him and peered at the single photograph that was placed on a side table. After a moment, she chirped, “Oh, this is cute!-” and actually grabbed it off the table to show to them.

“Wha- Akari!”

“Just look!”

“Put that back!” Tomoe hissed. Akari ignored her too and shoved the picture under her nose. After a few moments of glaring, Tomoe took it, and her face softened a little.

Interest piqued, Higuma stretched out his hand, and Tomoe passed it to him too. It was a family portrait, almost, except it also included quite a few people outside Neji-sensei’s wife and children.

Neji-sensei and his wife were seated in the middle. Neji-sensei was holding Hui Na, who looked about five, and his wife was holding a baby that must have been Haruki. Hanabi-san was next to Neji-sensei, then Hinata-san was next to her holding toddler-aged Himawari.

Standing next to Hinata was the fucking Hokage.

Yes, Higuma knew that they were married and everything, but it was still weird as hell that the Hokage was married to Neji-sensei’s cousin.

(The Hokage was holding Boruto-senpai, but that was unimportant because Hokage.)

But that wasn’t even the weirdest part of the portrait.

On Tenten-san’s side, Gai-san was in his wheelchair and with a pug dog in his lap. Seated next to him was a man with silver hair wearing a mask, of all things, and he had three dogs in his lap and four more seated on raised platforms behind him.. They were dressed in tiny ninja outfits and Higuma didn’t know how he could tell, but they were all smiling.

Eight dogs in the family portrait. What the hell.

And then, because the situation wasn’t weird enough already, Lee-san was standing behind Gai, with another child on his shoulders that looked almost exactly like him, and standing next to him was the KAZEKAGE.

THE KAZEKAGE. WAS IN NEJI-SENSEI’S FAMILY PORTRAIT.

Higuma stared at the portrait for a very long time, until Akari got impatient and snatched it back again. She cooed over the babies for a while, and the dogs, and then Tomoe took it back from her to stare at it some more. Akari mindlessly continued talking.

Tomoe said abruptly, “Neji-sensei has some friends in very high places.”

Akari stopped her monologue. “Yeah, but we knew about the Hokage already.”

“We knew about the seventh Hokage. Not the sixth.”

“The…” Higuma stared for a few moments, then something clicked. “The masked man? Wait, that’s the sixth? Kakashi Hatake?”

“Yes.”

Akari let out a loud squealing noise and tried to take the picture back, but Tomoe didn’t let her, and they scuffled wildly for a few seconds before she resigned herself to peering over Tomoe’s shoulder.

She looked excited at first, but then deflated. “Aw, he’s just a plain old man!”

Higuma choked on his saliva. “He’s- what?”

“I heard he was super handsome! This is just some guy!”

“Yeah, the sixth Hokage! Who cares what he looks like!”

“Not just the Hokage,” Tomoe said, a bit of a hostile tilt in her voice. “If you could do half the things he’s done for Konoha, you could retire as a great shinobi, Akari.”

Akari met Higuma’s eyes, just as surprised as he was over Tomoe’s vehement defence for the Sixth. She shrugged a little, and he decided not to question it.

“Well, another thing,” He began nervously. “That red-haired man next to Lee-san?” They both looked down at the same time. “That’s the Kazekage.”

He couldn’t help but relish the silence that followed. It was nice to know something they didn’t, for once.

Tomoe stood, the sudden movement startling them both, and crossed the room, portrait in hand. She set it back where Akari had grabbed it from, then strode back to the table and sat down again with rigid movements.

They both stared at her, surprised, and she glared. “It’s none of our business.”

“I don’t mind if you ask,” Neji-sensei's voice made them all jump about a meter in the air. Higuma stared at him, heart pounding, as he crossed the room and set down the tea tray on the table. He sat in the seat they’d left for him and began handing tea out to them, quietly prompting, “Akari, would you care to sit?”

She gracelessly sunk down into her spot, staring.

Neji-sensei took a sip of his tea then set his cup back down, looking pleased with its taste. His smile, when he turned to them again, was a little smug. “Go ahead and ask.”

“Why do you know the Sixth and the Kazekage?” Okay, Akari was pretty annoying, sure, but also sometimes Higuma really appreciated her.

“Gai and Kakashi have been partners for as long as I’ve known them, and Lee and Gaara have been together for- almost ten years now, I believe.”

There was a silence as they all digested the information, and Neji-sensei mused, “We should get them a ten-year anniversary gift. I will have to remind Tenten.” He sipped at his tea again.

The silence welled.

Tomoe started drinking her tea too. After the first few sips, she paused and asked, “Sensei, what kind of tea is this?”

“Gyokuro.”

Tomoe hummed a little in acknowledgement, then took a long, slow sip of the tea.

For someone so impatient and fast-paced, she sure did like to savor the food she ate. Higuma didn’t know why, but had promised to himself he would figure it out.

Neji-sensei finally set his tea aside and prompted, “How has training with Kurenai-san been?”

---

Tenten waved absently over her shoulder at the retreating figures of her teammates and cousin-in-laws as she finished locking up for the night. Boruto had left about an hour earlier, and Himawari was off to the side clutching her sleepover bag as she and Hui Na chattered excitedly.

She threw them a grin that they couldn’t see. Himawari wouldn’t mind her gushing over how cute she thought they were, but Hui Na was starting to go from preening over attention to being a little embarrassed by it.

But still. Her daughter and niece? Cutest best friends around.

She activated the seal that would release a very nasty trap if the lock was picked and stepped back, work finished. “All right, girls, let’s head home.”

She didn’t talk much on the walk home between the girls’ rapid conversation, but was quietly glad of the time it gave her to think. After all this time, Neji must have rubbed off on her, if she’d started looking forward to having some time to herself so much.

There was a lull in the conversation ahead of her, and she took her moment while it was there. “What should we have for dinner, girls?”

“RAMEN!”

Well, she had sort of expected that.

They made a quick stop at a late market to get the ingredients they needed- as well as a few desserts for them to sneak later, no need for Neji to know- before they set off again. Their current home was actually quite close to the market, but with TWO damn babies on the way Tenten and Neji had begun discussing a move to a larger home. Somewhere closer to the Uzumakis, perhaps, so all the cousins could visit.

Ugh. Two babies, because Neji’s freaky genes HAD to do that. (When she’d complained at him, he pointed out that until they could determine if the twins were identical or fraternal it couldn’t really be decided if had come from his side of the family, because identical twins didn’t have a genetic component like fraternal twins did, and plus his father had been an identical twin anyway, and then she’d punched his shoulder and told him to shut up.)

The girls ran up the walk ahead of her to the door, practically spilling into the house. She entered a few seconds behind and immediately smacked into them, unexpectedly stopped short.

She saw why immediately- just beyond the extra pairs of shoes, Haruki had three genins helping him build the most extensive blanket fort they could possibly make.

After a few moments of watching, she had to swallow the laughter that was bubbling in the back of her throat. Akari clearly was attempting to be in charge of the whole affair- yielding to Haruki’s demands occasionally- but was being challenged every step of the way by Tomoe, who was probably just trying to be an asshole. Higuma was doing his best to do everything the both of them told him to do, which meant that most of the fort had been built by him.

He waved awkwardly at her and the girls from where he sat beneath a blanket with Haruki, Tomoe and Akari having stopped building completely so they could put their full attention into arguing.

Haruki, upon noticing them, shot to his feet and yelled, “HUI NA! HIMA! MAMA!”

It effectively stopped the argument between the genins, but when he slammed into Tenten’s abdomen for a hug at terminal velocity she was less amused.

Okay, she really needed to get him to stop with this. She loved her little snuggler, but she had babies in there, for fuck’s sake.

She steered him back from her. “Hey there, love bug. Can you bring this to the kitchen for me?”

He took the bag of groceries from her with a determined expression and shuffled to the kitchen with it, and she turned to the genins again. “Hello again. Not sure if Neji’s officially invited you or not, but you’re welcome to stay for dinner. Homemade chicken ramen.”

“Oh-” Akari was the one who spoke, but all three of them looked absolutely gobsmacked. Tenten tried not to let her grin turn into a smirk.

Tomoe said abruptly, “I can stay.” A pause. “... thanks.”

“Right- thank you for the invitation, Tenten-san! I’ll text my parents…”Akari trailed off absently as she pulled out her phone, and Higuma hastily did the same. Tenten glanced down at Himawari and Hui Na, the latter of whom was staring at the genins with a funny look on her face as her cousin shot her curious looks.

“Girls, do you want to go set up in Hui Na’s room?”

That started them into action again, and the two trotted off into the house further.

A loud holler from the kitchen. “MAMA, I PUT THE BAG BY THE FRIIIIDGE!”

“THANK YOU! WHERE’S YOUR- oh!”

She tried not to squeak as Neji seemed to appear behind her, putting a discreet hand over her hip. “Welcome back.”

“Give me a damn warning! Jeez.”

He gave her a benign look, then repeated, “Welcome back.”

“I heard you the first time.”

“Then respond. Welcome back.”

“You’re such a pedant. I’m home, butthead.”

There was a hastily muffled snicker from one of the genin. Neji ignored it to press a brief kiss to her temple, and she tried not to lean into it like the utter sap she was. He then turned to the genins.

“Thank you for keeping Haruki entertained for so long. He usually- ah.” Haruki came marching determinedly back into the room, clutching Noodle in his arms. The cat, heaped awkwardly in his embrace, gave Tenten a very patient look as he was placed down on a cushion.

“There! Hokage of the fort!”

Tenten interrupted, somewhat hastily. “Haruki-kun, do you want to help me start making dinner?”

“Okay!”

He kissed Noodle’s head then followed her into the kitchen, happy to chatter at her and occasionally help her with the simpler aspects of making the food. Tenten strained to listen over his piping voice- Hui Na and Himawari were still in Hui Na’s room, likely playing, and she could hear Neji’s low tones as he conversed with the students.

He was such a dork of a sensei, always trying to impress them with his training and wise words. Apparently it worked (which was hilarious), because even Tomoe regarded him with a little bit of awe.

And they liked him so much that they came tottering around her shop to scope for information in the two weeks since they’d seen him, which was also hilarious. Not that she could blame them, really. The days after his surgery when he’d stayed in the hospital, she’d gone around the village feeling cranky and distinctly out of sorts.

She was just a little codependent, but after hundreds of missions and almost two decades together, she and Neji fit together completely and utterly.

Haruki had gotten bored by the time she was dishing up eight portions of ramen, and had moved into the next room to furiously color in his notebook. She called him back over to help set the table- which he did with a little grumbling- then called to the house at large, “FOOD!”

Himawari came into the dining room so fast that it almost gave Tenten whiplash watching her, and Hui Na and Haruki came trotting in a few moments later. The four of them settled at the table as they waited for the others, Himawari practically dipping her face into the bowl in front of her.

Neji and his genins came along presently and they all settled into dinner. Tenten sat back to let the kids do most of the talking, quietly taking the opportunity to watch the genins. Neji had told her things, of course- at great length, in his own distinct way- but it was still interesting to gauge them for herself.

For example, if anyone paid too much attention to Higuma he’d curl up and die, and if people didn’t pay enough attention to Akari she’d stretch out dramatically and die, and if Tomoe’s mom didn’t pay enough attention to her then she got achingly lonely.

And based on what Tenten had heard, Tomoe’s mom took frequent missions now that Tomoe was old enough to actually take care of herself, because more missions meant more money which meant an easier life for two ostracized kunoichi.

But it also made Tomoe withdraw and cover up her vulnerabilities even more, and Neji was quietly worried over how she was dealing with it.

Which led to a very roundabout way of getting her comfortable coming over, enough that perhaps she’d do it regularly when she was alone at home. And her teammates’ persistent attempts to get her to spend time with them must be helping as well, because she was looking less hollow in the days when her mom was gone.

(Tenten had met the woman briefly when she had come over to discuss her daughter’s training with Neji, and for the life of her could not recall her name or face- which was entirely intentional on the other woman’s part. She did stealth like few others could even attempt.)

After a few minutes spent watching the genins’ dynamics, she pulled herself from her reverie in time to catch Haruki’s glass after he accidentally elbowed it off the table.

“Oh, mama!”

“Careful, kiddo.” She set the glass back on the table, far away from the edge. “Remember if you spill, you have to lay in it so your shirt soaks it all up.”

The utterly baffled and somewhat alarmed looks from the genins, plus her children’s gleeful giggles, were entirely worth Neji’s drawn-out sigh and rebuke. “Tenten.”

“Yes, dearest?”

He pinched his brow, seemingly trying to find the words. Finally he said, “You’re weird.”

She sputtered, and every single kid at the table instantly revealed themselves as brats as they all started giggling.

Her only retort was a rather weak, “Well, you married me! What’s that make you?”

“The most patient man in the world.” He stood before she could sputter at him some more, gathering up the empty dishes. She scowled at him- what a prick!- before rising to help.

Neji saw his genins off at the door while she settled Haruki down doing his schoolwork, then started the dishes. The girls dragged Hui Na’s bead set into the fort and started making jewelry together, most of which would likely end up on Tenten.

She’d finished with their dinner dishes and was starting on the cooking ware when Neji came in and promptly spun her around to kiss her.

It was embarrassing how rapidly she melted against him, but she pushed it to the back of her mind in favor of running her fingers up the nape of his neck and then twining them into his hair. He shuddered a little, then started pressing her against the countertop, ready to lift her onto it.

I don’t think so, Mr. I-just-had-surgery.

Tenten was a kunoichi of Konoha. She had trained endlessly in her youth to hone her instincts, to build her strength, to develop her skills. She could be a cold blooded killer if it meant protecting the Village that her family lived in. She could shrug off the past few years of non-active duty and take up her kunai again the second it was needed.

All of which to say, it was very easy for her to spin herself and her husband around, lift him onto the countertop, then force his legs apart and step between them in one easy movement.

Neji actually gasped, which made a spark curl down her spine and a wide smirk form on her lips. She leaned in to kiss him again but he pulled away, eyes wide and face flushing.

She tilted her head back to consider him, eyelids lowering until her look was nearly disdainful. Neji ran his tongue over his bottom lip, his gaze fixed on her with fervency that bordered desperation.

Finally, she murmured, “All right-” and stepped away from him, back to the sink to keep watching dishes.

She turned to appraise him a few bowls later, curious to see his flustered state. He was staring off into space, his fingers over his mouth as his face flushed bright red.

Tenten smirked. She wasn’t able to reduce him to this state very often, but when she did it was deeply satisfying.

Neji turned to glance at her and caught her gaze, which made his flush deepen, but said in an unsteady voice, “You shouldn’t lift heavy things while pregnant.”

“Gah,” Tenten muttered, and turned back to angrily wash the dishes.

#nejitenmonth2020 #nejiweek2020 #nejiten #neji #tenten #hui na #naruto oc #hinata #hanabi #alternative summary ''tenten pegs neji after the kids are in bed''#fanfic #my writing

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romantichopelessly · 5 years

Text

Of Crushes and Confrontation

The third and (for now) final installation of my Bracelet ‘Verse. The first two were Moxiety, but this one focuses on the Logince story, and can be read alone if you would like. Hope you enjoy!

Part 1 - Part 2

----

“Hey, L? ...You know I can’t help you with anything if you don’t speak.”

“...Apologies, Virgil.” Logan adjusted his glasses, finally turning to face the side whose room he had entered nearly ten minutes ago now. “I was... lost in thought.”

“That’s okay.” Virgil said, his voice quiet and almost concerned.

There was a lapse of silence as Logan’s eyes drifted away again to continue to stare at the Nightmare Before Christmas posters hanging on Virgil’s wall. Virgil was just about to get up and shake some sense into the logical side when the other spoke up, startling Virgil.

“How did you do it?” Logan’s voice was smooth and calm, aloof as it always was. Almost as if he had not just spent the past ten minutes Blair-Witching in Anxiety’s room.

“You’re gonna have to be more specific, L. I do a lot of things.” Virgil twisted his fingers in the hem of Patton’s light blue logo t-shirt, which he had borrowed weeks ago, and hadn’t happened to give back yet. His voice was deceptively light, hiding how much he was trying not to get anxious. His room only really affected the others when he was already in a heightened state of anxiety.

Logan blinked out of his reverie and turned back towards his friend. His eyes flicked downwards towards Virgil’s exposed wrist before returning to Virgil’s own gaze. “Confess. To Patton.”

Instantly, Virgil’s fingers moved to run over the messily made bracelet that Logan had been looking at. Patton had given it to him on their one month anniversary. It was a little lopsided, and the little storm cloud charm was not at all centered, but Virgil had not taken it off once since he had gotten it. He bit his lower lip. “You- You know the story. I know Pat has told it like a hundred times by now. With the bracelets…” Virgil trailed off self consciously.

Logan shook his head, his hands folded in his lap, twitching ever so slightly. “Not that. I mean, yes, of course I know the story, as Patton tells it, but how-” He paused, seemingly having trouble with his words. “How did you know? When you could, that is.”

Virgil tilted his head, utterly baffled by Logan’s questioning. Frankly, it was making him a bit anxious. “I don’t know what you mean? It’s been weeks. Why are you just asking this now?”

Surprisingly, Logan’s cheeks began to tint a blotchy shade of pink. “Consider it curiosity.”

Virgil’s eyebrows rose practically to his hairline. Logan stared just to the right of his head, resolutely ignoring the color on his cheeks. Part of Virgil wanted to tease the teacher, but he knew that he couldn’t do that right now, not when Logan had come to him for advice.

God knows why, though.

“Alright... Well, I don’t know. I just- I knew that I had to do something.”

“How?”

Virgil shrugged. “Honestly? Roman told me.”

Logan’s shoulders stiffened infinitesimally. “Right. And if I were to... need help identifying such a time, and Roman were not available, how would I know?” After a moment, he tagged on, “Hypothetically.”

Virgil’s brow creased in confusion. “Logan, I’m sure Roman would always be available to help you work out your feelings for-” Virgil’s expression cleared as it dawned on him. Across from him, Logan tensed even further, his hands coming up to fiddle with the end of his tie. He was stalwartly refusing to meet Virgil’s gaze now. “Oh, L…” Virgil breathed, sympathetically.

Logan’s back straightened, his expression melting into something almost impenetrable. “There is no need for that tone. If you do not have any advice for me, I will be going now.” The logical side stood, a facade of calmness surrounding him that could have fooled anyone, were it not his best friend standing across from him.

Virgil immediately jumped to his feet. “Wait, no, Logan, it’s okay! I just… I didn’t expect it.”

Logan’s eyes were no longer meeting Virgil’s, instead glancing between the door, the ceiling, anything but the anxious side. “You did not expect what, exactly?”

Virgil shrugged, suddenly feeling guilty. Logan had trusted him and somehow, it felt as if he had betrayed that trust. “Just… You and Roman? It’s not exactly something… expected?”

Logan arched a single eyebrow. “And what would be expected?”

Virgil hunched in on himself, lamely. “I dunno. I guess me and Pat isn’t really expected either, so I can’t judge or anything.”

Logan seemed to relax slightly at those words. “I suppose that you are correct.”

There was a lapse in the conversation after that concession. Virgil and Logan let the silence envelop them, both of them coming down from their defenses in a way that they only really did around each other.

After a minute, Virgil cleared his throat, focusing his gaze on the soft fabric of Patton’s shirt and the comforting presence of the bracelet on his wrist. “I think you should follow your heart.”

Instantly, there was a scoff from the other side in the room.

Virgil looked up. “No, really, Logan. I know it sounds cheesy as hell, or like something that Patton would say, but he would be right. You gotta do what feels right for you and Roman. For... “ Virgil paused. Such an emotional conversation was obviously difficult for him, and Logan’s heart went out to his fellow left-brained side. “For me and Pat, it was the bracelets. It was sort of a natural progression. You need to know your feelings,” Logan grimaced, but Virgil didn’t slow, “and you need to do what feels right when it feels right.”

Logan thought that that advice was wholly unhelpful. However, just as he looked up to tell Virgil so, the other side continued.

“You’ll know, L. I know that you will.”

And for once, Logan closed his mouth, swallowed his retort, and took the advice.

----

Yet another crumpled ball of paper flew across the room, smacking into the pristine white wall before rolling to the ground. Logan sighed in a way that was most definitely not grumpy, no matter what Roman would have said.

Yet another failed idea, and yet another stupid time that Logan had gotten his hopes up.

If only Roman weren’t so horribly, obscenely dense. If only he weren’t so hopelessly gay.

----

The day after Logan left Virgil in his room, taking his advice metaphorically to heart, the logical side had woken up with a plan. He had dressed himself in his best attire--a long sleeved black button up, slacks and Roman’s favorite maroon tie--conjured a bouquet of exactly twelve red roses, sans thorns, and headed straight for Roman’s room.

It had taken nearly five minutes for the prince to answer is door, which was enough in and of itself to set Logan on edge, despite his repeated use of the 4-7-8 breathing technique, and his own silent affirmations that this would go impeccably.

When he did answer Logan’s knocks, Roman pulled open the door with a rather loud yawn, only his hand covering his mouth saving Logan from a horrible case of morning breath. Roman’s hair was sticking up every which way, his silk pajamas wrinkled and crumpled in a way that made Logan’s cheeks warm at the sight.

All at once, Logan remembered why he did not usually visit any of the other sides right after waking up. A single glance at his watch confirmed his fears.

6:12 A.M.

“Specs?” Roman’s usually grand tone was groggy, his eyelids drooping. “Is something the matter?”

Logan fidgeted uncomfortably. It was clear that Roman had either not noticed or not registered the flowers in his hands, so the teacher let the hand holding them drop to his side, out of the royal side’s view. It was becoming very clear to him that this was not as opportune a time as he had previously thought.

“Ah, yes.” Logan managed, clearing his throat and tugging at the suddenly uncomfortable tie. “I merely came to inquire what you would like to have for breakfast.”

Roman’s brow furrowed. Logan wanted nothing more than to reach forward and smooth the soft wrinkle with the pad of his thumb. He squashed that thought without mercy. “I guess… poppyseed muffins?”

Logan nodded, though his mind was racing miles beyond this conversation. “Of course. Thank you, Roman.”

Roman nodded sleepily. Logan was just about to turn and book it for his room--or rather, the kitchen, now, it seemed, as he suddenly had muffins to make, when the prince reached out and reverently ran his fingers over the silk of Logan’s necktie. “Red looks good on you.”

Logan was positive that he forgot how to breathe.

He did that far too often around Roman, really.

He nodded again, numbly, before turning on his heel and heading for the kitchen. He didn’t even bother trying to hide the roses, hearing Roman’s door close behind him as soon as he turned.

----

Logan paced the length of his room, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides, tiny half moon crescents appearing on his palm from where his fingernails had dug into his skin.

Really, this was all Roman’s fault. If he could just pay attention for once in his silly, overdramatic lifetime…

----

The second time that Logan attempted his confession was only a couple of hours after the first.

He had deposited the forgotten roses in a vase as soon as he had reached the kitchen, setting them gently at the center of the dining table before setting about to make lemon poppyseed muffins.

As he went through the familiar ritual of making breakfast, Logan had another idea. Yes, confessing to his… crush… at such an early time was not ideal, but possibly, telling him during breakfast would be a better idea. Not verbally of course, as Logan did not believe in the slightest that he could manage such a feelings based discussion with Virgil and Patton watching, but a note would not at all be a bad idea.

Suddenly reinvigorated, Logan pushed the tin of muffins into the oven, set a timer, and practically ran upstairs in search of his stationary. He found it quickly (as it was, obviously, always in the same place, he was not a heathen) and brought a single card downstairs and set about writing a letter.

As Logan was writing, he noticed Patton come down the stairs and into the kitchen, taking up the duty of making coffee. Were he less focused, Logan would have thanked the fatherly side, but as it was, he was attempting to come up with a perfect rhyme for his poem.

Logan barely finished before the timer that he set for the muffins rang loudly, jolting him into action. Carefully, he folded the card in half. He was about to write Roman’s name on the front when he heard the tell-tale sounds of the prince’s boots on the floorboards above him.

Abandoning that final touch, Logan rushed towards the table, where Patton had graciously already set their plates, and carefully balanced the card atop Roman’s empty plate. The sounds of Roman’s steps grew closer, at the top of the stairs, if he was correct, and suddenly, Logan felt extremely unprepared for this confrontation. He turned and made his way back towards the kitchen, telling himself that he just needed to make his cup of coffee.

He just so happened to also need to make his cup of coffee in the one spot in the kitchen that had a perfect view of the dining table, and Roman’s place at it.

Roman came down the stairs looking much more put together than previously. Not a single hair was out of place, his sash and shirt ironed perfectly. Logan felt his heart lurch in his chest in a way that was not at all anatomically possible.

He watched with wide eyes, stirring the creamer into his coffee without even looking at it, as Roman stepped up to the table, those beautiful brown eyes widening at the sight of the card at his place. Roman stared at the paper for a moment, not even opening it, before he looked up and into the kitchen, nearly giving Logan a heart attack.

But Roman’s eyes did not linger on Logan. Not even for a second. Instead, they moved past him, locking onto something behind the teacher. Logan turned, only to see Patton standing just behind him, whistling to himself as he mixed sugar into Virgil’s coffee mug.

As Logan turned back to the table, he was shocked to see Roman moving one spot to the left and sitting in Virgil’s usual spot.

No, no, no, no, no.

Logan bit his lower lip, unsure of what to do. This was not the plan. Roman was supposed to read the note before breakfast. Why would Roman, the romantic side, ignore such an obvious love letter? Logan could taste blood, likely from how harshly he was biting his lip.

He couldn’t just say something. That went against the entire purpose of writing the letter.

After a few moments, Logan gathered his coffee into his hands and slowly made his way to the table, sitting numbly in his spot. Roman smiled brightly from the spot across from him, not a care in the world.

“Morning, my astute friend! Did you sleep well?”

As if nothing were out of the ordinary. The nerve. Logan’s grip on his mug tightened. He nodded silently.

Roman seemed to notice nothing out of the ordinary with the exchange and turned to the muffins resting in front of him. Just in front of those damned roses. Logan’s eye twitched.

Thankfully, another set of footsteps started down the stairs, and Logan used the distraction to his advantage. It would not be ideal to throw hot coffee at one’s love interest.

As Virgil made his way downstairs, Patton swooped in from the kitchen, two mugs in hand and a bright smile on his face. “Good morning, ravenpuff!”

Virgil blushed at the nickname, a small smile taking over his face. “Mornin’, Pat.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to Patton’s cheek, taking the mug from his hand.

Logan wanted to scream.

Virgil turned towards the table and did a double take at the sight of the royal side in his spot. He hesitated before making his way to sit in Roman’s spot and Logan’s eyes widened as he realized what was about to happen.

“Virgil-”

Logan cut himself off, only able to watch in horror as Virgil pulled back Roman’s chair and sat in his spot. He smiled gently in Patton’s direction again before picking up the letter. Logan could feel his cheeks heating, the rush of blood roaring in his ears as he watched the disaster unfold before him.

Virgil scanned the letter, two pairs of eyes on him, while Patton focused on doling out the muffins, completely unaware of what was going on. Virgil’s brows furrowed as he read the letter, his confusion growing at the signature at the bottom. He glanced up at Logan, eyes questioning.

Quickly, Logan shook his head, being careful not to make the movement too noticeable, in fear that Roman would figure it out.

Taking the hint, Virgil offered a weak smile towards his friend and closed the letter, slipping it back to Logan under the table. “Thanks, Pat. Love you.”

Patton looked up, mildly surprised but grinning widely. “Love you too, honeybun!” Logan nearly sighed in relief. Patton probably assumed that Virgil meant for the coffee. Thankfully.

The rest of breakfast passed without incidence. Logan sat through the entire meal, clutching his useless letter under the table, and trying to ignore the squirming sensation growing in his stomach. Roman spoke animatedly, his eyes bright as he told the others about his and Thomas’s dreams from the night before. Patton would interject from time to time with a funny quip or pun, or support for Roman’s story. Virgil managed to smile about halfway through the story, but still sent worried looks in Logan’s direction once in a while.

After breakfast, Patton stood up, and as if finally freed from something gluing him to his chair, Virgil shot up and offered to help with the dishes. As he walked away, Virgil sent Logan a shaky thumbs up from behind Roman’s back. Logan pretended not to notice.

As soon as the two were out of the room, Roman turned to Logan, his brows raised. “Did you see that?”

Logan cleared his throat. His grip on the letter was so tight that he could feel it giving him paper cuts. “See what, Roman?”

Roman smiled, seemingly unaware of the tightness in Logan’s voice. “Patton leaving that cute letter for Virgil! And those roses! Gosh, it’s all so romantic, don’t you think?”

Logan bit the inside of his cheek. “Yep.” He responded, popping the ‘p’ at the end of the word before pushing himself to his feet, hiding the letter behind his back. “I have work to do. I will most likely see you later.” And with that, Logan walked very calmly up to his room to scream into his pillow.

----

Distantly, Logan wondered if he should just… give up.

He paused his pacing, standing stock still in the center of his room, the blank white walls screaming at him in deafening silence.

A small, anxious part of him wondered if this was some sort of sign. If Roman being so inexplicably thick was actually the creative side trying to communicate something with him. To tell him that he just… wasn’t interested.

Logan shook his head quickly, dispelling the thoughts. No. There was no way that this… feeling... was completely one-sided. Not with the passionate light that sparked in Roman’s eyes when they discussed Thomas’s future. Not with the way that Roman laughed, loud and deep and completely unhindered, at Logan’s subpar attempts at jokes. Not with the way Roman smiled, soft and heart-achingly sweet, as if Logan couldn’t decipher the emotions in his eyes as he watched him explain the accurate stories of Hercules. Not with the way that Logan’s heart fluttered helplessly when Roman came back from the Imagination, his hair plastered to his brow and chest heaving, but still somehow managing to find energy to poke fun at Logan for being worried.

No. Logan could not give up. No matter how frustrating this got.

----

The next time that Logan tried to confess was a few days after the first two disappointing attempts.

This time, Logan had decided to take a closer look at how Virgil had managed to confess to Patton and successfully win a romantic partner. To follow the anxious side’s confession route a bit more literally.

As Logan stared down at the golden bracelet resting in the palm of his hand, he felt as if this would be the one.

Roman didn’t strike Logan as one to wear homemade jewelry like Patton. Besides, Logan was not sure how exactly Virgil went about making those things, and after the previous breakfast debacle, he was not about to face Virgil again anytime soon. Logan didn’t think that the homemade quality of the bracelet was really what caused Virgil to be successful in his method of confessing, anyway.

So, instead of spending the time making a bracelet that Logan wasn’t even sure that Roman would like, Logan set about summoning and fashioning a silver charm bracelet that fit the creative side’s style much better.

Each little charm hanging from the bracelet resembled something that Logan felt symbolized his and Roman’s relationship. A pen and book for their long nights spent writing and editing scripts for Thomas. A jar of jam for their shared love of Crofter’s. A lion and eagle rested on either end, symbolizing their respective Hogwarts Houses, that they had spent hours defending to one another. A microphone for the times when Roman would sing softly while he worked, or boisterously urge Logan to make up a rap on the spot for any number of circumstances. A frog for their shared favorite Disney movie, The Princess and the Frog.

All in all, Logan felt as though it were a pretty perfect way to confess to the prince.

This time, Logan decided not to approach Roman in the morning. The creative side wasn’t much of a morning person, and Logan was honestly stumped at how he had overlooked that detail when planning his first confession.

Instead, Logan waited until after dinner to walk down the hallway, the charm bracelet hidden securely in the pocket of his jeans.

Logan knocked for the second time in that week on Roman’s door, this time feeling somehow both much more and much less prepared for what was about to happen.

That is, he felt that way until Roman answered the door, his usual princely uniform crumpled and covered in dirt, a deep, oozing cut on his left cheekbone, and, most alarmingly of all, his eyes puffy and red rimmed.

Logan’s heart rate skyrocketed at the sight, his feet already pushing him through the door and into the room before he was even speaking. “Roman? What on earth happened to you?”

Roman tried to chuckle, but ended up bent over in a harsh coughing fit, tears appearing in the corners of his eyes. “I’m… fine…” He lied, weakly.

Logan forgot all about the charm bracelet in his pocket and his planned confession as he helped Roman backwards and onto his bed. In no time, he had conjured a first aid kit and was cleaning the cut on Roman’s cheek with one hand and prodding gently at the prince’s ribs with the other.

Were it any other time, Logan would have been a complete mess over the fact that Roman was letting him get this close, and that he was essentially feeling up the creative side’s abs, but Logan found that all gay thoughts flew out of the window when Roman was in any sort of pain.

“What happened, Roman?” Logan repeated, his voice now much softer as he determined that the other did not have any broken ribs.

Roman winced ever so slightly. Whether at Logan’s questioning or the pad of rubbing alcohol that he was pressing to his cheek, Logan didn’t know. “Got into a bit of a fight in the Imagination. You should see the other guy.”

Logan’s heart fluttered in his chest at the charming smile that accompanied those words. Damn Roman and his ability to always be attractive, he was trying to focus.

Averting his eyes to the cut that he was addressing, Logan didn’t comment for a little while. As he pulled the cotton pad back, Logan wavered a moment before deciding that Roman really didn’t need a bandage. As he sat the pad down on the table beside Roman’s rather large, Logan worried his lower lip between his teeth.

“You should be more careful.” His voice was quiet. Quieter than Logan had ever heard himself speak, really.

Roman’s gaze softened. Logan couldn’t really decipher what that look meant, but there was a note of fondness there that he was not at all adverse to. Roman’s voice was equally as soft when he spoke. “Hey, teach, look at me?”

Logan hesitated, just long enough for Roman to reach out and tilt his chin in his direction with two gentle fingers. Logan’s breath stuttered.

“I’m fine, specs.” Roman’s eyes were open, caring, and it did things to Logan that he didn’t even want to think about. So many feelings flew around the logical side’s mind, making him dizzy. “I promise.”

Logan’s mouth was dry, as though it were filled with the same sort of cotton pads that he had just used on Roman. “Are you sure?” His voice cracked pitifully, but Roman either did not notice or did not care.

“I’m positive.” A tiny smile pulled on the corners of Roman’s lips. “It’s good to see that you care so much, calculator watch.”

Normally, Logan would have rolled his eyes, but he found himself unable to look away from Roman. Suddenly, he remembered all too clearly the reason for his visit.

This would be a perfect time, would it not?

Roman was obviously feeling amicable towards him. They were having what Patton would describe as a moment. Logan’s hand slid slowly towards the pocket that contained the charm bracelet. It felt like the time. Virgil had said that he would know, and he was relatively sure that this was what knowing felt like.

Just as he had slipped his hand into his pocket and closed his fingers around the bracelet, Roman spoke up again, this time his voice a bit louder and more secure.

“You’re a good friend, Logan.”

Friend.

One word that he usually cherished dearly now made a lump form in his throat, as though he were now attempting to swallow the aforementioned cotton. Something ached behind his eyes, his stomach now squirming in a much more bitter way. His hand went limp in his pocket as he forced a weak smile.

Silver wasn’t really Roman’s color, anyway.

----

Logan sighed, dropping into the chair at his desk and burying his face in his hands.

Three failed attempts, and Roman still didn’t notice.

It had been only a few days since the charm bracelet attempt, but it was frankly disheartening that Roman hadn’t even acted the slightest bit different since that day. He still smiled and joked with a less responsive Logan like nothing was wrong. He still called Logan those infuriatingly creative nicknames that only he could get away with. He still walked down the hallway shirtless at the end of the day, like he didn’t know how speechless it made Logan. He still commented on every little interaction that Patton and Virgil had like it was the most romantic thing in the entire world.

It was frankly infuriating.

It was amazingly, wonderfully Roman.

Part of Logan pushed him to try again. So what if the first three tries had turned out to be less than optimal? No scientist worth a grain of salt would give up after three trials.

Another part of Logan was desperately aware of the fact that this wasn’t a science experiment. This was the very real, dangerously passionate, excitingly wondrous, heart crushingly brilliant, very nearly perfect Roman Sanders. And Logan wouldn't jeopardize what they had. He couldn’t. Obviously he was not as good at telling the right time as Virgil seemed to believe he was. So, all in all, maybe it really was best to just… slow down and let it play out.

Not give up. No, he had thought about that, but no.

Taking a break, though… It seemed like the most logical course of action.

Logan sighed again, opening his eyes and running his fingers over the list of possible confession ideas written before him. He was just about to crumple up the piece of paper and throw it out when there was an urgent knock at his door.

Startled, Logan pushed himself back from his desk and to his feet. No one ever usually came to his room. It wasn’t that he didn’t allow the others into his room, it was just that no one was much interested in his room, unless it were an emergency. When Logan wanted to meet with one of the other sides, it would be in their room, or in the common area.

Confused, Logan padded across his room in his sock feet. As soon as Logan turned the door knob, the door was forced open, and Roman was pushing his way into Logan’s room, his face red in a way that surprised Logan more than anything else.

“Roman-”

“Why can’t I write anything?” Roman moaned, collapsing back onto Logan’s bed dramatically.

“Of course, Roman, please do come in.” Logan rolled his eyes, quickly recovering from his surprise.

Roman huffed, his cheek squished into Logan’s comforter. “Have some sympathy, Velma Dorkley, I’m doing my best.”

Logan strolled across the room and sat calmly on the bed a few inches from the top of Roman’s head. “I am sure. What exactly is wrong this time?”

Roman pouted, looking up at Logan through his lashes. “I’m trying to write a script for a new video.”

Logan froze, the words causing a roaring in his ears, his eyes no longer focusing on the prince in front of him. The new video. The one that he was supposed to have already made a schedule for. How could he have forgotten? Logan made an aborted movement to get up, but stopped himself. Roman couldn’t know that he had forgotten. Then he would figure out that something was going on. Logan never forgot something as important to him as Thomas’s schedule. Thomas was going to start procrastinating, and then not get his video out. And then Roman would definitely figure out about his stupid little crush and then-

“Uh… Logan? Are you alright?” Roman’s voice broke through the haze, his brows furrowed in concern.

Logan cleared his throat, smoothing his suddenly sweaty palms over his jeans. “I… yes. I am quite alright, Roman. You were saying?”

“I was asking if you could help me brainstorm?”

Before Logan could even think about what he was getting into, he was nodding. He most likely was not in the right mind for a brainstorming session at the moment, but he couldn’t just decline. Roman would surely catch on to something so out of character.

Plus, he could handle it. Especially when Roman returned his agreement with that charmingly bright smile of his.

Grabbing Logan’s hand, Roman sunk the both of them out of Logan’s room and into his own. This wasn’t unusual, as the two regularly held their brainstorming sessions in Roman’s room, but Logan’s stomach turned as soon as he appeared in Roman’s too-bright, emotionally charged room.

The next hour or so passed in a blur for Logan. Roman would propose ideas that would stick in the logical side’s head for less than a minute. His mind was far too focused on his royal screw up, and the charm bracelet still sitting on the desk in his room, and the way that Roman’s voice lilted like poetry, and the way that his eyes flashed with growing frustration as Logan turned down idea after idea, barely taking them in. Logan could tell, distantly, that tensions were rising. He should do something. Tell Roman that he wasn’t in the best of spirits at the moment or something. Instead, Logan stubbornly continued on, his own irritation at himself for letting his responsibilities fall to the side festering underneath his skin.

“Are you even listening to me?” Roman’s voice was hot. Quick tempered. Too snipey for Logan to handle at the moment.

If only Roman could just have gotten it the first time, none of this would have happened.

“Of course I am listening, Roman. It is hard not to when you yell every word that comes out of your mouth.” Logan crossed his arms, his back still as straight as ever, despite the fact that he had been standing in place for over an hour now.

Roman’s cheeks heated to a lovely--no, that’s a distraction, Logan stay focused, do this right--shade of red. “Excuse me, but what exactly is your problem today, Nutty Professor?”

Logan’s nails dug into his upper arms. He refused to flinch. “My problem is that you, Creativity, cannot seem to come up with an adequate idea by yourself.”

No, he didn’t mean that. He didn’t mean that at all, Roman was insanely talented, he just wanted to please Thomas-

Logan shoved those thoughts aside as Roman leapt to his feet, slamming his quil back down onto his desk.

“Maybe we would have an idea already if you didn’t shoot down every single one that I offered! But no! You just have to have everything be Logan’s way, huh?”

Logan could feel his shoulders rising up to his ears. His toes curling in his shoes. His face growing red. His heart beating faster. His nails still digging into his arm, drawing blood-

“That is not my intention. I am simply trying to do what is best for Thomas. You can’t keep latching onto unattainable ideas that you know you will never finish. You will just end up disappointing Virgil, Patton, yourself, and Thomas.”

Roman took a step forward, but thankfully stopped there. Logan knew that he would not have been able to think were the prince any closer. “Who are you to say what’s unattainable?”

“I am someone with common sense, looking at things objectively.”

“Oh, objectively.”

Logan’s skin crawled at the way Roman drew out the word.

“Yes. Objectively.”

“You’re just so objective, aren’t you, Logan? You have absolutely no emotional stake in this at all, huh?” Roman’s hands were clenched at his sides. Logan wanted to leave.

“I do not-”

“You don’t have emotions? Is that what you were going to say? Because it seems to me like you do! You just don’t know how to deal with them, so you’re taking it out on me. You don’t want to be hurt, you don’t want to be helped, you just want to sit on your high horse and direct everyone else, and not let them touch you. Why don’t you offer an idea for once, if you want something so perfect.”

Logan faltered. “I.. That is not my job, Roman, that is yours.”

Something ugly flashed in Roman’s eyes, and Logan knew that whatever was about to happen next was his fault. “Of course it isn’t. What exactly have you been doing for the past week then, Logan? What have you been doing, stuffed up in your room, that has left you so uptight?” Roman was moving forward again with every word, finally stopping right before Logan. Logan couldn’t breathe. “Well? What is it? Why are you so goddamn pushy with me today?”

“I’ve been trying to tell you I love you!” Logan blurted out, unable to stop himself, unable to even think-

Without missing a beat, Roman was yelling right back. “Well how was I supposed to know that?! You have the romantic prowess of a robot!”

Logan felt as though the breath had been punched out of him. The backs of his eyes burned, but his fingers finally released their death-grip on his arm. Before another word could be said, Logan sunk out.

----

Logan didn’t leave his room for days after that.

He did what needed to be done for Thomas from the comfort of his bed. Anything else, he ignored.

He ignored the ache in his chest that didn’t lessen even a little bit over the hours. He allowed himself to cry, the tears burning their way down his cheeks, his chest heaving and his whole body shaking, until his eyes were too tired to do even that anymore.

Roman didn’t come knocking. Logan knew because he had left his room unlocked to the other sides in vain hope that he would.

Virgil appeared once or twice. He brought Crofter’s and questions in his eyes, but he never voiced anything more than light concern and overwhelming support.

Logan couldn’t even bring himself to thank Virgil.

Because all that he could think about was the side that he would really rather have there comforting him. The side who would bring wild, outlandish stories with wide gestures and expressions to match. The side who would not only bring him jam, but somehow goad him into a debate over which flavor was the best. The side who would ooh and ahh over his collection of Shakespeare’s works, as though he hadn’t seen it a million times before. The side with a brilliant smile that probably hated him now, and just as well should.

On the third day, Logan considered getting up and pretending that it never happened. Avoiding Roman when he could, and otherwise treating the situation as though it did not exist.

Then his eyes caught on that stupid silver bracelet resting on his desk.

It wasn’t like he was that good of an actor anyway.

On the fourth day, a knock did sound on Logan’s door. Assuming that it was Virgil coming to offer comfort once again, Logan didn’t bother snapping himself into something more presentable than the old t-shirt that he had been sporting for the past half of a week.

Apparently, the person on the other side of the door understood that Logan was not going to verbally answer, because in less than fifteen seconds, Roman had risen up in Logan’s room.

Instantly, Logan shot up, his heart beating wildly. “Roman?”

Roman shuffled awkwardly at the foot of Logan’s bed. Since he had risen in rather than entering through the door, he had no need to walk into the room, and seemed to not know what to do with his feet or hands, which were knotted together before him.

“Hi, Logan.” Roman’s voice lacked its usual grandeur, and instead was soft and almost broken. Some part of Logan wanted to reach out and ask Roman if he were okay.

The other part remembered what had happened just a few days ago and urged him to keep his distance.

“What are you doing here?” Logan tried to keep his voice level, despite his growing awareness that he probably looked like a pathetic mess compared to the prince.

Though, the closer that Logan looked, the more flaws he saw in Roman’s appearance. The prince’s eyes were puffy and red around the edges, as they had been that day when Logan had visited him to give the bracelet. His hair was much more disheveled than usual, with chocolate locks curling up every which way, as though he had been sleeping on it or running his hands through it incessantly. His uniform was wrinkled, like he hadn’t changed it recently.

Logan wondered what all of that could mean for him.

“I… needed to talk to you.”

Nerves squirmed in Logan’s stomach. He really hated this. All of these emotions that came from being in the same room as Roman had only seemed to worsen during their brief time apart. “No you don’t.” Logan managed, his voice coming out a bit snappy.

Roman blinked, but his determination didn’t sway for even a second. “Yes, Logan, I do. I… I need to apologize-”

“No.” Logan said, more forcefully this time. “There is no need.” He didn’t know why he was saying this. Shouldn’t he want an apology from Roman? It meant that the creative side cared about him. Even if it wasn’t in the way that he so desperately craved.

“Logan-” Roman started again, his voice desperate.

“No, Roman. It’s f- There is no need, truly. Just- Just leave.” Somehow, Logan’s arms had moved of their own accord, hugging his waist, like they were the only things holding him upright. He squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to see Roman leave him again.

A weight shifted on the end of Logan’s bed, dipping him to the side slightly. Logan cracked one eye open to see Roman sitting at the foot of his bed, staring down at his own hands.

After a moment of excruciating silence, Roman spoke. “You aren’t getting rid of me, Lo. I am sorry. Seriously. What I said was uncalled for… I wasn’t thinking and… I would have come sooner, but I thought that you had needed some space, and I didn’t realize what a stupid idea that was until Virgil was knocking down my door and tearing me a new one for what I said to you.”

Logan grimaced in embarrassment. He would really have to talk to Virgil about boundaries. He opened his mouth to respond but Roman held up a hand.

“Let me finish, Lo.” Logan’s mouth snapped shut and Roman took a deep breath. “So I’m here to say that I am sorry. Very sorry. And I hope that you will find a way to forgive me. Because if you don’t this is going to be miserable for the both of us.”

Logan tilted his head. “What is?”

“Everything.” Roman looked up, meeting Logan’s eyes. “Because I am not letting you push me away, Logan. Not after all of this. Not ever again. I love you means that you are never ever ever getting rid of me.”

Maybe it was the musical reference. Or possibly the overwhelming joy that Logan felt bubbling up inside of him at the knowledge that Roman didn’t hate him for his sloppy confession. Whatever it was, Logan found himself bursting out into giggles. High pitched, never before seen in public giggles that soon enough had Roman laughing along too, his perfect chiming chuckle melding with Logan’s sad, inexperienced laugh perfectly.

The two laughed for a few moments, all of the previous tension leaking from them in seconds. Roman scooted closer, slipping his hand over Logan’s and squeezing lightly. The motion caused Logan’s laugh to taper off a bit.

“Are you… What exactly does that mean, Roman?” Logan tried to keep his voice light, even though he was serious about the question.

“It means what I said. You aren’t getting rid of me now, specs.” The return of the nickname was accompanied by something loosening in Logan’s chest. Roman’s deep sparkling eyes met his own, and there was a note of unmistakable earnesty there. “Never. You can try, but…” Roman took a deep breath. Logan held his. “I love you too.”

And before he could think, Logan was leaning forward and finally covering that charming smile with his own.

Roman’s lips tasted like watermelon and it was beyond anything that Logan had ever dared to ponder before. As the prince’s second hand came up to tangle in the hairs at the base of his neck, Logan melted into the kiss, forgetting all about their fight, or his failed confessions, how Patton and Virgil were very likely listening in from right outside of the door, or the fact that he was in a four day old t-shirt.

All he could think of was Roman, and how this finally felt right.

#sanders sides #ts sides #roman sanders #Logan sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #ts roman #ts logan #ts virgil #ts patton #logince #romantic logince #moxiety #romantic moxiety #sanders sides fic #sanders sides fanfic #sanders sides fanfiction #ts moxiety #ts logince

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italian-sides · 5 years

Text

“Ombre e Bastoni”, ch. 2

Here I am with the second chapter! Again, a huge thank you to both @misslilidelaney on Tumblr for writing this and @watcher-from-the-heights for being my beta! I also tag @ts-italian-gang, just in case. One last thing: if you want to support the ff, it’s on AO3 too! Thank you if you’re gonna step by! Enjoy!

Whenever Emilio Picani walked into the Dolce&Remì, all heads turned.

And when all heads turned, Giuda Schiavon's only instinct was to turn away.

To avoid imploding.

At the exact moment the young man crossed the threshold, Giuda understood that he was Patrizio's famous "psychologist cousin".

And at the exact moment he saw his face, only one sentence echoed in his brain:

- Sò ciavà. - [1]

The newcomer sat down at the counter, while Remo looked illuminated with immense light and Romolo seemed to be having a heart attack.

"Patrì. Are you kidding? You should at least have said that your cousin was so beautiful!"

"What are you saying, Romolo? C'mon, you're embarrassing him!"

"Orco can, Pati [2], take it easy! Trust me, it takes much more to embarrass me.", the interested party replied, giving Romolo, who just laughed like a twelve year old, a benevolent smile.

- Nice, exactly what I needed, even the competition with the Stellina. -

Giuda glanced at Remo, who had been wiping the same glass for three minutes.

-Ah, well. Both the Stelline. [3] -

He just looked at the newcomer from behind the counter, through the mirror in front of which the liquors were placed.

Of course both twins already came out swinging, while Virgilio and Luca simply looked at him with the gaze of two hungry lions.

And obviously Patrizio noticed the looks that the Trentine guy - that is Luca - launched at his blood relative, and Giuda shook his head after seeing the Emilian's eyes getting a little bleary.

-If I end up like this too, I'll set myself on fire.-

"You're quiet, Giudino [4].", Tommaso, the only one who seemed immune to the charm of the newcomer, chirped.

Giuda merely smiled slyly, pointing to the group behind him with a nod:

"I'm enjoying the vultures."

"Pffftt, they're terribleee!", the pastry chef whispered, biting his lip from laughing, which made Giuda smile even further and then continue:

"They look like they haven't seen a man for ages, eh? And Patrizio has the face of someone who repented 'a sbrega'."

"At what?"

"Someone who regretted it very much. I’ll have to teach you Venetian sooner or later, boss."

Tommaso nodded, and Giuda decided to get defensive even before anyone could attack him.

"Plus, like... He's not even that cool. He's pretty, don't get me wrong, but c'mon, to the point of making all four of them lose their heads?"

Tommaso nodded, shrugging:

"Agreed. And I hope Luca will soon get over this thing before Patrizio goes on a killing spree."

"Patrizio should also get a move on, however; Luca is too much of a wimp to realize he's drooling like a slug. If he doesn't get moving, someone else will take him and I’d like to remind you that the last time Patrizio got drunk, he got a sad hangover."

"Don't remind me, please."

"Ao, regà!" [5], Remo sneaked in and took them both by the arm, smiling like the idiot he was.

"Come and meet the newcomer!"

- Oh, no, please. -

"Boss, at least let me take off my dishwashing gloves!"

"No no, you have to keep them, I want him to understand who's in charge!", the 'older' brother of the Stella twins laughed at the request of his dishwasher.

- Curses.-

With a movement worthy of the worst drunks in Caracas, he brought Tommaso and Giuda in front of the newcomer, who had a smile capable of melting Giuda's heart in an instant.

And it did.

"Emilio, here's my co-partner and pastry-chef Tommaso Sandero, and my all-rounder, dishwasher, whatever-you-want, Giuda."

"I have a surname too, you know, old man.", with an eyeroll worthy of a Hollywood star, Giuda turned to Emilio.

Shit, he was even more beautiful, up close.

"Giuda Schiavon. I would shake your hand but I have gloves on."

"Schiavon?", Emilio asked, lighting up.

How beautiful a human being could be? Was he even legal?

"Ahah, his name is Schiavon. Which is perfect, since he's ours... [6]", Remo started, but Emilio dreamily clasped his hands in front of his face and asked, interrupting him:

"Are you from Veneto too? I'm from Verona!"

Giuda just shrugged, nodding immediately after:

"Par tera, par mar, Sammarco. [7]"

"Can del porco, un Venexian! Beaaa! [8]"

Having said that, Emilio approached him, pretending to speak in great secrecy - which was impossible, since everyone was still staring at him as if he was a wonderful thing, except perhaps Romolo, who was just looking at Giuda as if he was the worst thing that ever happened in this world:

"Cossa go da far pa aver na bona ombra de vin qua? [9]"

Was he trying to speak Venetian?

Was there a limit to how cute he could be?

"Ask Remo. I only wash the glasses, I don't fill them."

Having said that, he turned to the owner, making a superhuman effort to take his eyes off Emilio, who seemed quite dazzled by the answer.

"Can I go back? I have to go to the kitchen to finish washing the dishes before other people arrive for happy hour."

Then he turned back to Emilio, waving at him with half a smile:

"Fellow countryman, enjoy your stay in Bologna."

And then he left, without giving him time to answer.

Three years passed since their first meeting.

Three years in which Romolo made the funniest epic fail with Emilio, in which Patrizio decided to stick his tongue down Luca's mouth, and Virgilio pretended to be drunk to touch Romolo's ass, whom he said he'd forgotten, but Giuda knew that was bullshit.

Because he, being a chronic liar, could basically smell the lies.

In fact, not even for a second did he let anyone remotely suspect of his mind-blowing crush on the psychologist, especially the above mentioned, given that he was probably now convinced he hated his guts.

Which was the intention of the Venetian, since he took for granted that the thirty-year-old was far beyond what someone like him could afford.

After the disastrous relationship with one of his university buddies, Giuda indeed decided that being single was far better than being heartbroken.

Even though his heart wasn't too good.

Treating Emilio badly was making him lose sleep, at times he risked forgetting to put on his contact lenses due to tiredness, and even Virgilio took the piss out of him for the bags under his eyes.

And now he was there. Gloves in one hand and a broom in the other.

With Remo looking at him with a Cheshire Cat's smile on his face.

"You little snake. I get it, you know? You like the Veronese."

"You're speaking nonsense. I’d rather kill him right now. I dropped the glasses because of him."

"Don’t fuck with me. Tommy and I yell at you all the time and you’ve never jumped like this. Yo, Coso [10], I can smell lies too, you're not the only one. You’re being a little shit because you like him."

Giuda kept looking the bar owner in the eye, trying to deny it with all of his body language.

"I. Don't. Like. Emilio. I don’t know what you’re thinking, but Mr. Psychoanalysis isn’t exactly my cup of tea, okay?"

"Giuda..."

There was something in Remo’s voice, something that for a moment opened a breach in the Venetian's heart.

Maybe... Maybe he could trust someone.

"...From the first day he walked in here. You all got over it. But me? Never. I don’t have a crush on Emilio, Remo. I’m in love with Emilio. But I’ve suffered enough in the past to know that I’m better off alone. What if it goes wrong? How am I gonna look at him? How...?"

"You don't know that. I mean, I don't know either even if I live with him, how can you, if you run away every time you see him?"

"I personally believe that what you don’t know can’t hurt you."

"If Luca were here he would scream 'Boiate' [11]. Giuda... I..."

"Welp. It's too late now, the damage is done, right? He’s probably convinced I hate him even more after today's crap."

With a bitter laugh, Giuda surpassed the roman, continuing:

"I blew every chance, amen..."

"Giuda."

"But surely he won’t stop coming, we’re his favorite bar and you’re his roommate..."

"Giuda, shut up."

"I'm sure he'll find someone else pretty quickly, he just needs to breathe and someone always comes along."

"Giuda!"

The dishwasher turned again towards Remo, biting his lip as the stupid tears began to stream down his face.

"I can’t do this, okay? After Mattia, I don’t know what to do, with a man. Besides, I’m kind of a mess. Emilio will never appreciate someone like me."

Remo remained silent for a moment, before moving forward... and hugging? Giuda.

The Venetian was baffled, usually it was Tommaso, the one with whom he sometimes allowed himself affectionate gestures.

"Shut your mouth, you’re not that bad. And I swear on Totti [12], I’ll help you get the therapist, whether you want it or not."

Giuda laughed bitterly, his face stuck in the chest of his tallest peer.

"Yeah, sure. And how are you gonna do that?"

Remo let him go and asked, very seriously:

"Do you know how to play briscola [13]?"

[1]: transl. "I'm fucked" [2]: "Holy crap" + Pati = a nickname for Patrizio [3]: this is a pun with Romolo and Remo's surname, "Stella" = "Star", that here is referred as "Stellina/Stelline" = "Little Star/Little Stars" [4]: a nickname for Giuda, a diminutive of his name [5]: a Romanesco dialect exclamation that means more or less "Hey, guys!" [6]: it's a pun with Giuda's surname, Schiavon, that in italian, without the "n" at the end, is "Schiavo" = "Slave" [7]: it's a Venetian saying that literally means "on land, on sea, San Marco", but more broadly it means the power of the Venice Republic that reigned both on the land and on the sea [8]: "Good heavens, a Venetian! Niiice!" [9]: "What can I do to have a good glass of wine around here?"; in Venetian dialect, "ombra" means both "shadow" and "glass of wine" [10]: "coso" is the italian version of "thingy" and/or "dude/dingus" [11]: yes, "boiate" is the italian term for "falsehood", in this case [12]: a famous Italian soccer player, specifically from Rome [13]: a very popular Italian card game

1 - 2 - ?

see ya next time, ciao!

Quando Emilio Picani entrava al Dolce&Remì, tutte le teste si giravano. E quando tutte le teste si giravano, l'unico istinto di Giuda Schiavon era di girarsi dalla parte opposta.

Per evitare di implodere.

Nel momento esatto in cui il giovane aveva oltrepassato la soglia, Giuda aveva capito che era lui il famoso "cugino psicologo" di Patrizio.

E nel momento esatto in cui aveva visto il suo volto, solo una frase gli aveva rimbombato nel cervello:

- Sò ciavà.-

Il nuovo arrivato si era seduto al bancone, Remo che sembrava illuminato d'immenso, e Romolo che sembrava stesse per avere un infarto.

"Patrì. Ma stiamo a scherzare? Ce lo dovevi minimo minimo dire che tuo cugino era così bello!"

"Ma cosa stai dicendo, Romolo? Mo' dai guarda, che lo metti in imbarazzo!”

"Orco can Pati, stai calmo! Guarda che ci vuole molto di più per imbarazzarmi." aveva risposto il diretto interessato, scoccando un sorriso benevolo a Romolo, che si era limitato a ridere come una dodicenne.

- Ben ciò, perché mi mancava la competizione con la Stellina.-

Giuda aveva lanciato uno sguardo a Remo, che stava strofinando lo stesso bicchiere da tre minuti.

-Ah beo. Entrambe, le Stelline.-

E si era limitato a guardare il nuovo arrivato da dietro il bancone, attraverso lo specchio davanti al quale erano sistemati gli alcolici.

Ovviamente entrambi i gemelli erano già partiti all'attacco, e Virgilio e Luca si limitavano a guardarlo con lo sguardo di due leoni affamati.

Ovviamente, Patrizio si era accorto degli sguardi che il trentino lanciava al proprio consanguineo, e Giuda aveva scosso la testa vedendo i suoi occhi velarsi un po’.

- Se finisco anche io così mi do fuoco.-

"Sei silenzioso, Giudino." Aveva cinguettato Tommaso, l'unico a sembrare immune al fascino del nuovo arrivato.

Giuda si era limitato a sorridere sornione, indicando il gruppetto alle sue spalle con un cenno del capo.

"Mi sto godendo gli avvoltoi."

"PFFFF sono tremendiii!" Aveva sussurrato il pasticciere mordendosi il labbro dal ridere, cosa che aveva fatto sorridere ulteriormente Giuda che quindi aveva continuato:

"Sembra non vedano un uomo da millenni eh. Veramente. E Patrizio ha la faccia di uno che si è pentito a sbrega."

"A cosa?

"Pentito molto. Devo insegnarti il veneziano prima o poi, Boss."

Tommaso aveva annuito, e Giuda aveva deciso di mettersi sulla difensiva ancora prima che qualcuno potesse partire all'attacco.

"Che poi... Neanche fosse così figo. Bellino eh. Ma insomma, da far andare fuori di testa tutti e quattro?"

Tommaso aveva annuito, facendo spallucce.

"Ti do ragione. E spero che a Luca questa cosa passi presto prima che Patrizio faccia una strage."

"Patrizio dovrebbe anche darsi una mossa però eh, Luca è troppo impedito per accorgersi di quanto stia sbavando come una lumaca. Se non si muove finisce che se lo prende qualcun altro e ti ricordo che l'ultima volta è andato di sbronza triste."

"Non ricordamelo, ti prego..."

"Ao, regà!" Remo era arrivato di soppiatto e li aveva presi entrambi sottobraccio, sorridendo come lo scemo che era.

"Venite a conoscere il nuovo arrivato!"

- Oh, no, ti prego.-

"Capo fammi almeno togliere i guanti da piatti!"

"No no, li devi tenè, voglio che capisca chi comanda!" Aveva riso il maggiore dei gemelli Stella alla richiesta del suo lavapiatti.

Maledetto.

Con un movimento degno dei peggiori ubriachi di Caracas, aveva portato Tommaso e Giuda al cospetto del nuovo arrivato, che aveva addosso un sorriso capace di sciogliere il cuore di Giuda in un istante.

E lo aveva fatto.

"Emilio, ecco il mio socio e pasticcere Tommaso Sandero, e il mio lavapiatti tuttofare quello-che-vuoi, Giuda."

"Ho un cognome anche io sai, vecchio." con un eyerolling degno di una star holliwoodiana, Giuda si era voltato verso Emilio.

Merda, era ancora più bello, da vicino.

"Giuda Schiavon. Ti darei la mano ma ho i guanti."

"Schiavon?" Aveva chiesto Emilio illuminandosi.

Ma quanto poteva essere bello un essere umano? Ma era legale?

"Ahah, si chiama Schiavon. Il che è perfetto visto che è il nostro..." Aveva iniziato Remo, ma Emilio aveva stretto le mani davanti al viso con aria sognante ed aveva chiesto, interrompendolo:

"Ma sei veneto anche tu? Io sono di Verona!"

Giuda si era limitato a fare spallucce, annuendo subito dopo.

"Par tera, par mar, Sammarco."

"Can del porco un Venexian! Beaaa!"

Detto questo, si era avvicinato facendo finta di parlare in gran segreto - cosa impossibile visto che tutti lo stavano ancora fissando come se fosse una cosa meravigliosa, tranne forse Romolo che stava guardando proprio Giuda come se fosse la peggiore delle cose mai capitate a questo mondo:

"Cossa go da far pa aver na bona ombra de vin qua?"

Stava cercando di parlare in veneziano?

Ma c'era un limite a quanto potesse essere carino?

"Domandarghe a Remo. Io lavo i bicchieri, non li riempio mica."

Detto questo si era girato verso il titolare, compiendo uno sforzo sovrumano per distogliere lo sguardo da Emilio, che sembrava parecchio abbacchiato dalla risposta.

"Posso tornare di là? Devo andare in cucina a finire i piatti prima che arrivi altra gente per l'happy hour."

Si era quindi girato di nuovo verso Emilio, facendogli un cenno di saluto con un mezzo sorriso.

"Conterraneo, buona permanenza a Bologna."

E se n'era andato, senza lasciargli il tempo di rispondere.

Erano passati tre anni, da quel loro primo incontro.

Tre anni nei quali Romolo aveva fatto il più divertente degli epic fail con Emilio, nei quali Patrizio si era deciso a ficcare la lingua in bocca a Luca, e Virgilio aveva fatto finta di essere ubriaco per toccare il culo di Romolo, che diceva di aver dimenticato, ma Giuda sapeva essere una balla.

Perché lui, le balle, le subodorava, essendo un bugiardo cronico.

Infatti, nemmeno per un secondo aveva lasciato che qualcuno sospettasse minimamente della sua cotta allucinante per lo psicologo, specialmente il suddetto, visto che si era probabilmente ormai convinto di stargli sullo stomaco.

Il che era l'intento del veneziano, visto che dava per scontato che il trentenne fosse ben oltre quello che uno come lui potesse permettersi.

Dopo la disastrosa relazione col suo compagno di facoltà, Giuda aveva infatti deciso che single era decisamente meglio che col cuore a pezzi.

Anche se il suo cuore non stava troppo bene.

Trattare male Emilio gli stava facendo ormai perdere il sonno, a volte rischiava di dimenticare le lenti dalla stanchezza, e persino Virgilio lo prendeva per il culo per le occhiaie.

Ed ora era lì. I guanti in una mano ed una scopa nell'altra.

Con Remo che lo guardava con il sorriso dello Stregatto dipinto in faccia.

"A serpentino. L'ho capito eh. Te piace er veronese."

"Tu stai vaneggiando. Ora come ora lo ammazzerei. Ho fatto volare i bicchieri per colpa sua."

"Nun me piglià per il culo. Io e Tommy ti gridiamo contro in continuazione e non hai mai saltato così. Senti Coso, pure io le subodoro le stronzate, non sei mica l'unico. Fai il merda perché ti piace."

Giuda continuava a guardare il titolare negli occhi, cercando di negare con tutto il linguaggio del corpo.

"Non. Mi. Piace. Emilio. Non so cosa ti sei messo in testa, ma Mister Psicanalisi non è esattamente di mio gradimento okay?"

"Giuda..."

C'era qualcosa nel tono di Remo, qualcosa che per un attimo, aveva aperto una breccia nel cuore del veneziano.

Forse... Forse poteva fidarsi, di qualcuno.

"...Dal primo giorno in cui è entrato qui dentro. A voi tutti è passata. Ma a me mai. Non ho una cotta per Emilio, Remo. Io sono innamorato, di Emilio. Ma ho sofferto abbastanza in passato da sapere che sto meglio da solo. E se poi va male? Con che faccia lo guardo? Come..."

"Non puoi saperlo. Voglio dire, non posso saperlo io che ci vivo assieme, come puoi farlo tu se scappi ogni volta che lo vedi?"

"Sono del parere che ciò che non sai non può farti del male."

"Fosse qua Luca urlerebbe 'Boiate'. Giuda... io..."

"Beh. Ormai il danno è fatto, no? Si sarà convinto che lo odio dopo la stronzata di oggi."

Con una risata amara, Giuda aveva superato il romano, continuando:

"Mi sono bruciato ogni possibilità, amen..."

"Giuda."

"... Però di sicuro mica smette di venire, siamo il suo bar preferito e tu sei il suo coinquilino..."

"Giuda piantala."

"Di sicuro troverà subito qualcuno, gli basta respirare e arriva sempre qualcuno..."

"Giuda!"

Il lavapiatti si era girato di nuovo verso Remo, mordendosi il labbro mentre le stupidissime lacrime iniziavano a scendere.

"Io non ce la posso fare okay? Dopo Mattia non so più come comportarmi, con un uomo. E poi sono un casino. Emilio non potrà mai apprezzare uno come me."

Remo era rimasto in silenzio per un attimo, prima di avanzare ed... abbracciare? Giuda.

Il veneziano era basito, di solito era Tommaso, quello con cui a volte si permetteva gesti affettuosi.

"Ti devi de sta zitto. Non fai così schifo. E te lo giuro su Totti, io ti aiuterò a prenderti lo psicologo, che tu lo voglia o no."

Giuda aveva riso amaramente, la faccia ficcata nel petto dell'altissimo coetaneo.

"Seh, vabbè. E come credi di fare?"

Remo lo aveva lasciato andare ed aveva sentenziato, serissimo.

"Sai giocare a briscola?"

18 notes · View notes

iya5rt · 4 years

Text

Kalopsia Project [Bakugo Katsuki x Reader – Tokyo Ghoul AU]

Epilogue – re:Kalopsia Project

Chapter Summary: Despite its ever-changing nature, life waits for nobody. It continues on, and so do you.

Quick Note!! This drawing you see here was done by the wonderful @CxldRain over on Wattpad!! Please, please, please check them out!! I am seriously so honored and thank you so much♥

Kalopsia Project Masterpost

“And now – exclusive information coming straight from the police about a discovery from a few days ago. Following an anonymous call reporting a sighting of multiple ghouls, police and Investigators from the CCG were led to the site of the raid from 4 years ago in which All Might – a renowned investigator, lost his life in a brutal fight against a skilled and feared ghoul nicknamed Endeavor by the CCG. The building, a former research facility of the CCG, which was thought to have been abandoned following the raid, was discovered to still have been in use.

“Inside, the police found traces of a fight and continuous use of the facility for the last couple of years. It resurfaced that this had been the main operating headquarters of a horrific human experimentation project. Unfortunately, no further data could be recovered and the organization responsible for this project has yet to be unveiled. The police are working together with the CCG to get to the bottom of this baffling case.

“The man thought to be the mastermind behind this inhumane act was caught at the scene. So far, his claims have been insufficient and, according to the CCG’s research department, false and contradictory. Multiple of his supposed “subjects” were discovered at the scene. Two of them appeared to have been killed by a ghoul, while the rest were temporarily incapacitated. Multiple organizations are currently looking into the matter, so stay tuned and we will keep you updated.

“Now, to have a look at the situation in the second ward. Sightings of the binge-eater ghoul which had been terrorizing the ward for a couple of months now have gone silent. No new victims have been discovered since the suspicious scene with no remains from last week. Has the threat been eliminated? Will the second ward finally be able to-“

The woman’s monotone voice coming from the small TV sharply cut off. Or rather, it was the sound of the TV instead that disappeared, as Monoma let out a frustrated sigh and set down the remote. He sure was getting quite the attention, though perhaps a news reporter wondering if he was finally dead for good wasn’t the attention he had been hoping for.

It was yet another bright and early morning at the small café which held a tiny secret most knew nothing of. The late-night venture of its staff from a couple nights ago hadn’t made it to all of the news stations quite yet (seems like the CCG still wanted to keep it under wraps as long as possible) and the concern and rumors hadn’t spread among the public for now. Of course, everything had been so carefully planned out, so as to not allow a single unsuspecting person to discover what exactly had transpired there.

One by one, the rest of Yuuei’s staff finished up their morning chores and gathered in the main area, sitting beside the counter, at the tables, or already working on preparing for the day (poor Midoriya and Todoroki had it tough).

Monoma’s eyes swept across the bunch of people and he raised a brow.

“Well, would you look at that. We’re starting any moment now, yet [L/N]-chan is nowhere to be seen.”

“She should be arriving very soon,” Ida chimed in. “Apparently she’s squeezing in some more kagune training with Bakugo-kun whenever she can.” Monoma followed up with a small hum.

“Huh, is that so…? Won’t the customers get worried she’s all bruised and beaten when they see her then?” his raised brow fell and he leaned back against the counter. Uraraka tried to stifle a giggle but failed.

“No way. Bakugo-kun’s still probably going easy on her. At least until her regeneration’s good enough, that is. And who knows,” she muttered to herself. “Maybe even after that.” Another giggle slipped out through her knowing grin. Meanwhile, Monoma’s curiosity turned into a devilish smirk.

“Betcha they’re just making out the whole time-“

Smack!

The towel easily knocked his head forward, leaving him to rub at his reddening neck, as a couple people laughed a little.

“I heard that, you know?” you reached out to retrieve your towel. Hey, he deserved much worse. You were being nice. Not minding Monoma’s pouting face, you dug around for your apron. “Once I get the hang of it, I plan to challenge you to a fight. Get back at you for that oh so pleasant “date” we had.”

“You’re welcome to do so. Any time you like, in fact.” Monoma closed his eyes and put a hand to his chest in a dramatic gesture. “I don’t plan on losing to a newbie.” His eyes looked back at you, a challenge just as clear evident in them.

Though, like you had said, that challenge would have had to wait. They weren’t wrong – you still had a long way to go before you could proclaim to have all the meticulous control over your kagune you’d need to take down somebody as experienced as him. Landing a single blow on Katsuki was already next to impossible throughout your training sessions.

But when that day was to finally come, you were determined to turn the tables on him. On both of them.

Another thought resurfaced in your mind.

“Oh, that’s right! Seems like only Kirishima-kun will make to today’s interview. I hope that won’t be a problem. The rest should manage to find a free slot by the end of the week though!”

“Interview?” Uraraka paused, just as she was putting a big mop away. Ida also looked at you with a slight tilt to his head.

“Ah, you guys were dealing with the clean-up, huh. Forgot you ran a little late. Well, you see-“ you walked towards the door, then turned to face them once again. “Once everything was done and over, Kirishima-kun and the other three somehow managed to convince Aizawa-san to let them work here! They said they’d all been looking for some part-time jobs anyway! Not sure why he insists on interviewing them but hey, I wouldn’t really mind graduating from taking out the trash!!”

With a small hop to your step, you turned the sign on the door, the word “Open!” now inviting all passer-by inside

***

“Katsuki-kun!” you called out from beside him.

His steps momentarily came to a halt, his eyes widening just enough for you to notice, only for him to shake away the surprised expression as quickly as it had crossed his features. You let out a laugh.

“I love the funny face you make when I call you that!” This time, he made a small growl.

“Well, excuse me, but it’s not my fault, now is it?” Not that his complaints were going to put an end to your constant giggles though. After a few seconds of silence on his part, just enough for the funny scene to pass, you hummed quietly.

“I still think we should’ve saved this for when I finally manage to land a hit on you during training.” Katsuki, however, only scoffed.

“Yeah, so never?”

Your small fist hit his shoulder, though he gave no sign of having even felt it. You looked around the mostly empty street, yet your eyes wandered back to him. Hands intertwining behind your back, you tilted your head in pretend curiosity, failing to hide the smile from the joke you hadn’t even made yet.

“Say, you’re not gonna try and eat me too, are you?”

With a single roll of his eyes, Katsuki replied simply.

“I’m not a cannibal.”

You paused mid-step. He noticed your hesitation and stopped too, raising a brow when he looked back. He didn’t necessarily say anything, but you had come to appreciate just how many words his face was able to convey. You didn’t need him to ask you to know he had a question.

“I guess I’m not really human anymore, huh. It’s been a few days, but the thought still feels as foreign as ever.” At the sound of Katsuki’s approaching footsteps, your eyes flicked to him.

“The hell are ya talking about?” He stopped before you, leaning his head towards yours. “With all you went through, you might just be more human than anyone else.”

The blood rose to your cheeks and you let out a laugh to hide your embarrassment.

“Wow, never knew you could be so cheesy, Katsuki-kun,” you smirked. If he was getting to embarrass you, you could easily do the same. Nonetheless, you smiled at him, putting your hands on his shoulders, and leaning in closer. “But thank you – it means a lot to me, you know?”

You pecked him on the cheek and pulled away, skipping ahead with a big smile. He didn’t like it when you saw him blushing or making a weird face, so you could at least give him the space he needs to shake it off. In no time, he was walking by your side again.

Suddenly, his eyebrows scrunched in concern and his eyes focused somewhere up ahead, as he took hold of your hand to stop you from going on by yourself.

“Act natural,” he leaned in and whispered. You followed his gaze and your heartbeat quickened at the sight of the two men clad all in white and carrying those trusty briefcases of theirs.

Passing them by took only a couple of seconds, yet it felt like you hadn’t breathed in a single time all throughout. The two of you rounded a corner, Katsuki looking back to make sure the investigators were well on their way, while you finally took a deep breath to recover.

“Gosh, my heart’s thumping,” you laughed, though the relief written across your face was clear to Katsuki.

“Well, better get used to it – this is going to be your life from now on.” He patted your back a few times.

He was right, huh?

Your path had seemingly been decided so long ago, from the moment that experiment had succeeded. A path of misery, of suffering, of tears shed alone, and of a life doomed from the start.

Yet, with the help of those you’d always thought to be your enemies, you had created a new path. One that was still rocky, rough, filled with thorns. But it was a path you had chosen by yourself. It was a path you weren’t meant to walk alone.

You turned to face Katsuki, two pairs of eyes looking straight at each other. The smile on your lips grew even larger, as you reached out for his hands with your own.

“Get used to it, you say? Hm!” By this point, you were practically grinning already. “I think I’ll manage. But you have to promise me! That you’ll stay by my side, just like I’m going to stay by yours.” Once again, you leaned in closer. “That we’ll help each through it, right?”

Katsuki shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips when he opened his eyes again.

“Sure, sure,” he breathed out.

That was more than enough.

The distance between you became smaller and smaller, until your lips finally met in the middle.

And in that moment, you realized. Both of you realized.

What an ironic situation you had been put in from the start of it all.

Yet in the end, it was an irony you both had learned to love.

~Fin~

***

Author’s Note: And so, it is… done? That’s kinda crazy.

A few quick notes before I start with all the sappy stuff. I know that this was an extremely short chapter, especially compared to last week’s beast, but I really wanted to show those two particular scenes and make it short and sweet, so I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless! Also, the chapter title! I intended for it to come off as a reference to Tokyo Ghoul:re but if you noticed, the :re is actually placed at the start. That’s because, while Kalopsia Project:re feels like a new start, re:Kalopsia Project gives me more “in response to Kalopsia Project” vibes. Not sure if that made any sense or came across nicely though.

And lastly, at first this was going to be it for sure. Done and Over. But after hearing what you guys have been saying, I’ve been considering writing a sequel to this story one day. It won’t be for a while and I’ll get into the reasons for that later, but the fact is, it will probably happen. I hope you’ll enjoy it too!

And now – thank you all so, so much. You might have noticed already that I don’t shy away from getting wordy in my notes, so please forgive me for that. I’m just infinitely grateful for all the support this story has received – this was my first proper attempt at something with a plot, and also at an AU. It was a fun experience for me and I hope you all enjoyed it too! Every single interaction makes me have this big stupid smile on my face and, while I was a little anxious about posting this story initially, you’ve made it all worth it. So thank you so much to everyone who read this story, who liked or reblogged it, and especially to anyone who stuck with it all this time. It truly means the world to me since I wouldn’t be doing this without you all♥ I hope you’re all staying safe during quarantine!

And finally, I feel a bit odd self-promoting like that but hey, if you enjoyed this story, and especially the character writing, and are looking for something else to binge during long days at home, I do have one more story! Granted, it’s Bakugo x OC, though I always say that you can easily pretend the OC is either you or your own character, and it is canon-compliant. However, it’s also a good 4 times longer than this story! It’s also my first ever story, so the writing in some of the beginning chapters won’t be up to par with what you’ve been seeing here! But if you feel like it, I’d really appreciate it if you gave it a chance! In fact, now that “Kalopsia Project” is over, I will be returning to plotting the fourth book of that story and hopefully go back to writing it soon enough! Here’s a link to it on Wattpad/Quotev/AO3– I hope you’ll enjoy it^^ Alright, enough blabbering on my part.

Once again, thank you all so much, I love you and I stay safe and have fun~ Hopefully I’ll see you again some time!

Bye~

(Also, I haven’t quite decided what I’m doing with this blog yet but I plan to type a probably somewhat long post once I figure it out! In the meantime, thank you all so much for the support! And hey, @afuckingunicornn @creativedogs @chims-kookies - it’s finally over huh?)

#bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou x reader #bnha x reader #bnha tokyo ghoul au

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greymochii · 5 years

Text

[ATEEZ] Jongho; Faint Love - Part I

Title: Faint Love

Characters: Jongho, OC, San, Hongjoong (minor), Yunho (minor), Wooyoung (ULTRA minor)

Word Count: 4659

Genre: Angst, College!au, Romance

Parts: 1 / 2 / 3

P.S.: A lot of grammatical errors, but I will proofread it and correct it when I have time. Errors evident in the other 2 parts as well.

Summary: It all started as a crush. It was mutual but we just said never anything. I thought that I had found love with Jongho... until San came along. Now I’m battling my feelings for two men, and things was starting to get super complicated.

No one else has ever regarded him as handsome but I always thought he was rather good-looking. Enough for me to fawn over his dashing looks each time I crossed paths with him.

His almond-shaped eyes accentuated his well-defined face; accompanied with a cute, small nose and the prettiest lips that I have ever seen. His lips were the most attractive feature of his that I found, seeing how soft and moist it looked. He really must have taken care of lips very well, as it constantly looked moisturised and pink. But despite having a handsome face, Jongho carries a mysterious aura with him. No one really knew him even though they’ve talked with him before. He and I… we barely talked, and when we do, it was always about school or just small conversations about nothing.

Despite having a cold demeanor, Jongho was never unkind towards people. He just never smiles or have deep conversations with people. I guess people regarded him as unhandsome for his personality and decide to diss his physical appearance along with his somewhat bitter disposition.

We’ve spent two semesters together and we’ve never really had good conversations, not until that one day when we were grouped together for a project and only he and I were focused on our research. We gave up pleading to other groupmates to do their job and just focused on ourselves, and to a point of covering their parts as well.

That particular day, Jongho and I held ourselves back as we sat in the auditorium in silence, eyes fixated on our laptop screen. My eyes were starting to dry up from the long hours of staring at the screen and from the corner of my eyes, I saw Jongho’s hand extended towards you. I slowly turned and looked at his hand and then to his face and back to his hand. He was holding onto the disposal eye drop and silently passed it to me, his eyes focused on me. It wasn’t a hard stare but it wasn’t a blank one either. If there was one thing I can’t read, it was Jongho’s eyes. I can’t tell what he was thinking about because his eyes were always the same. And I noticed the way he looks at me was different from the he looks at others. Seeing how I was staring at him, Jongho shook his hand.

“Aren’t you going to take it?”

I snapped out of my trance and shook my head, clearly in disbelief that Jongho had offered a piece of the eye drop to me. “Oh, right. Thanks.”

Jongho gave me a small pursed smile and that was the first time I’ve ever seen him smile. For some reason, I could feel the butterflies in my stomach. I didn’t want to think too much about it so I quickly popped the eye drops into my eyes and blinked my thoughts away. Feeling relieved from the lubrication, I continued with my research until it was time to go home.

As I was packing, Jongho spoke again, his soft voice making me jump a little. “So, I’ll see you again tomorrow?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Great. See you tomorrow then, <y/n>.”

I was stunned. He never acknowledges me by my name before. I was starting to think about things and I didn’t want to hallucinate but I figured that he may have feelings for me.

Heh. Feelings for me… what a joke.

“Good… night to you too.” My voice trailed off as he walked down the stairs and then out of my sight. I stood frozen in my place, still trying to process what just happened.

I wasn’t going to expect anything so I told myself to sleep it off and pretend that nothing ever happened. If there was one thing I was good at, it was hiding my feelings. No one really knew how I felt and there was a reason behind it. I just couldn’t bring myself to tell anyone about it.

We met the next day and when he saw me, he smiled again. This time… it was wider… and genuine. I thought I felt myself holding my breath in and I clenched and unclenched my fists as I was walking towards him. When I took a seat adjacent to him, I avoided his eyes and took my laptop out. Even from the corner of my eyes, I could feel his eyes were on me, his gaze intense and focused.

“<y/n>, are you ok?”

I jumped in my seat and placed a palm to my chest as his voice shocked me, yet again.

“Jesus,” I muttered under my breath as I massaged my chest. In our two semesters together, he never asked me if I was alright. I wasn’t sure how to respond to that so I merely nodded my head and continued to unpack my belongings.

“You sure?”

“Y-yeah, I’m fine. Really.”

“I don’t know… You’re kind of… red.”

I froze and swivelled my head in his direction, my eyes wide in shock. “What?”

Jongho made a gesture around his face and then pointed at me, his eyes full of concern. “Your face, it’s red. Are you sure you’re ok? We can postpone this if you’re sick.”

“What? No, no, no! God, no! I’m fine. I-I’m f-fine. Really. I, uh… I’m gonna haul over to the toilet, would you give me a second?” I leaped out of my seat even before Jongho could answer and sprinted for the toilet.

Pushing the door open, I strode for the sink and stared long and hard at myself in the mirror, and to my horror, I was really red. My cheeks were flushed and so were my ears. To think that I was feeling absolutely flustered around him, and didn’t even realised I was blushing furiously completely baffled me. For the next couple of minutes, I was trying to calm myself down and each time I do so, I go even redder.

“What the fuck?” Frustrated, I closed my eyes and focused on other things. And for unknown reasons, I thought about that unfortunate moment. And then recalled about another pained memory that I wanted so much to be buried at the back of my mind. My so-called meditation was interrupted by a pair of girls streaming in smiling and laughing. I stood up straight and watched them as they gave several glances in my direction before proceeding into each cubicle. Realising I’ve spent too much time in the toilet, I rinsed my face a couple of times and composed myself before returning to the auditorium.

Jongho was typing on his laptop but when he saw me coming up the stairs, he stopped typing and looked at me. I turned to him and froze, shocked by his stare.

“What?”

He was silent for a bit but suddenly reached over and placed the back of his hand on my damp forehead, surprising me.

“You’re a little warm. Do you… wanna go home?”

Shaking my head vigorously, I whispered no and turned my laptop on. “I’m fine. Really. I was just, um… feeling a little warm, that’s why.” I gave a fake laugh and I was sure he wasn’t convinced about my excuse.

“If you say so.” He resumed his work and I felt relief washing over me. We continued on with our work for the next three hours, with very minimal interactions between us.

That’s the life of a college student, staying behind to do intense research and analysis, doing reports and dissertation, it had to be precise, thorough and original sometimes we lack sleep from our commitment to our projects. We’d skip meals but will try to have snacks to at least fill our empty stomachs so as to not pass out one day due to starvation.

As dinner time approached, I skipped buying my own meal as I wanted to do as much research as I could since we were behind by a lot and what more covering other members’ parts. I didn’t even realize that Jongho had gone off to get dinner because when he came back, he brought back two meals.

Putting one bag in front of my face, he said,”Here. Eat something.”

I was taken aback and took the plastic bag from him, slightly confused and surprised. He had bought kimchi and rice for me, and even bought a bottled water for me. I turned to him to thank him but he was already digging into his meal. I went over to him and sat next to him, not saying a word so as to not disturb his dinner time.

“Thank you,” I said quietly as I unpacked the food.

“You’re welcome,” Jongho mumbled through his filled mouth, making me giggle a little. “What’s so funny?”

I stopped giggling and got abashed and stuttered on my words. “O-oh… It was nothing. You just said you’re welcome through a full mouth and I thought i-it was funny.”

“Oh… But yeah, you’re welcome.”

We ate in silence and although it seemed awkward, I still felt relaxed and comfortable sitting beside him. By the time he was done eating, Jongho sat quietly in his seat, looking around the auditorium and then his eyes landed on me. I wasn’t focused on his stare as I was busy indulging in the food but I absently turned my gaze to him, he quickly looked away. I was convinced that I could see a pink tinge on his cheek and I know that he knows it too. Clearing his throat, he excused himself but his face was still looking in the other direction.

“I, uh, I’m gonna go to the men’s room. Be right back.” In a matter of seconds, he disappeared out of the door, leaving me flabbergasted.

By the time he came back, I was already on my laptop and typing away on my report. When his eyes met mine, he averted his gaze elsewhere and went back to his seat. My eyes followed his movements and realising that he wasn’t going to look at me, I turned back to my screen, feeling my heart drop a little.

It was close to midnight and my back was hurting and so was his. We silently agreed to pack up and he didn’t offer to meet up again the next day, which disappointed me. I wasn’t sure I was so upset about this, but I kind of expected to hear Jongho ask if we could meet again tomorrow but he didn’t. I tried not to take it too personally and faked a smile as much as I could. I was the first to leave but before I went down the stairs any further, I turned to him.

“Thank you.”

Jongho’s head snapped up, his eyes wide with surprise. “Hm?”

I faint a small smile and said,”Thank you… for the meal.”

Jongho stood rooted to the ground, his eyes wide and his expression blank. I couldn’t tell if he was confused or he was just genuinely speechless because I had thanked him again. Either way, I was just grateful and decided to express my gratitude for his generosity again. Walking away with a smile on my face, I felt nothing else but relieved and strangely enough, was looking forward to spending more time with him.

We only had about four weeks left on the projects and as per usual, Jongho and I were the only ones working hard on it. As each day progressed, we grew closer but even then, I still don’t know Jongho personally because we don’t hold deep conversations. As much as I want to, I didn’t want to seem pushy or nosy so I just rolled with whatever conversations we were having. We would often exchange glances and I’d notice his face going pink once in a while and I couldn’t help but smile at his blushing.

As we were indirectly flirting with each other, or so I thought we were, someone else had entered and looked upon from the bottom. I had to squint my eyes to get a better look and realised it was one of our groupmates.

“What’s he doing here?” Jongho’s voice suddenly deeper and I noticed a tinge of annoyance when he spoke. I glanced at him and saw that his brows were knitted and I knew that he wasn’t in favour of another company.

I turned back to the figure that was already climbing up the stairs and sighed quietly. He was always the one staying unbothered when in class so it struck me as odd when he turned up that day.

“San, what are you doing here?” I asked as I leaned back in my chair, frowning slightly at him.

San looked from me to Jongho and then back to me, smirking as he dropped his bag on the chair in front of him.

“You got my part?”

“What?”

“My part. The research? Have you got it?”

Cocking my brows up in shock, I scoffed and rolled my eyes at him. “Of course not, that’s your responsibility. Why am I supposed to be doing your part for you?”

“Bullshit, Jinhee told me you were starting on mine, so I know you have it.”

I clenched my jaw and internally cursed Jinhee for opening her mouth, whatmore to San. I’ve always disliked his guts because he was always rude and he was always giving me unnecessary comments. I scowled at him and was about to put his part into a pen drive when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I jumped and turned to Jongho who had his other hand extended towards San, a pen drive in his grip.

San looked at the pen drive and back to Jongho, a frown creasing on his forehead. “What the hell is that?”

“Your share. You asked for your part, I’m giving it to you.” Jongho’s voice was firm and I could feel myself holding my breath as I watched the two men exchanged words in cold air.

“I was asking it from <y/n>.” San took a step forward but Jongho remained rooted, completely undeterred.

Jongho wasn’t bothered by San’s so-called threatening looks and just shoved the pen drive into his hand. “She doesn’t have it. That’s your part, I had it and now I’m giving it to you. Will you please leave us alone now?”

“L-leave you alone?” San laughed sinisterly and shook his head at Jongho. “Did you forget that I’m a part of this group? Now you’re chasing me away from wanting to be active in my role? Come on, man.”

“We were doing fine without you,” Jongho said bluntly, his gaze hard and sharp on San. “Why now then?”

San merely shrugged his shoulders and plopped himself down on the chair in front of me, his eyes trained on me. I felt a little uneasy and noticing my discomfort, Jongho pulled his chair next to me. He was about to say something else but I tugged on his sleeve and shook my head. I didn’t want the argument to escalate and since he was there, it lessened my burden of completing another member’s task.

“You can stay, but be sure to do your part. We’ve wasted a week and a half doing everyone else’s tasks,” I firmly said as I began typing again.

Giving me his lop-sided smile, San nodded and glared at Jongho. “Yes, Ma’am.”

True enough, San was quiet but that still didn’t help diminish my dislike for him. He’d occasionally glance at me while I work and Jongho would be the one to give a death stare. As it was coming to dinner time, I declined to go out and get food as I wanted to finish on my report as soon as possible. Jongho was a slightly hesitant but he went out to get dinner, leaving San and I alone in the room. It was awkward and tense, and I couldn’t help but to squirm in my seat. Silence filled the air and though I appreciate it, it still made me uncomfortable.

“How far are you?”

“I beg your pardon?” I frowned at him and San scoffed as he stared at me.

“I asked, how far are you? Your report, how far are you with it?” I was taken aback and stuttered on my words.

“Oh! Uh, I, uh… about slightly more than one quarter in. Why do you ask?”

“One quarter? We still have time, why are you rushing to finish it?”

I rolled my eyes at him, much to my dismay and ignored him. Just as I was doing my report, San closed my laptop and grabbed my hand. I stared at him in disbelief and he dragged me out of my seat and down the stairs then out of the auditorium.

“San, let me go!” I tried to wring my hand out of his grip but each time, he tightened his grip. “Will you please let me go?!”

San ignored my pleas and continued dragging me to God knows where. By the time we’ve come to a stop, I realised he had brought me to the cafeteria.

“What the hell?” I muttered as San continued to drag me and then stopped in front of a Western stall.

“San, my dear! What can I get you, son?” A strong yet petite woman emerged from the stall, a wide smile plastered on her face. Judging from the way she greeted San, I could safely assume that he was a regular patron.

San turned to me and I gave a disgusted look when he checked me out from head to toe. Turning back to the stallowner, San smiled and said,”Can we get two sets of the aglio olio, Mrs Kim?”

Stunned, I objected but San put his hand out to cover my mouth. Mrs Kim, the stallowner, seemed slightly puzzled, but San reassured her that he was getting two plates for the both of us. Once she was gone, I yanked his hand away and glared at him.

“A plate of aglio olio for me? You didn’t even ask me what I wanted!”

“So you do want me to get you something to eat.” San smirked as he said that, pulling cash out of his wallet.

“No, I don’t mean it like that. You know what? You can eat the two plates by yourself, I’m heading back.” I turned on my heels but before I could stomp off, San grabbed my arm and pulled me aggressively towards him.

“I don’t care what kind of feelings you have for me. Hate, disgust or whatever, I don’t care. But when I’m being kind, the least you could do was say thank you and not be a brat.” He hissed in my ear and I felt myself shuddering under his grip and swallowed hard when he said that.

“I-T-thank y-you…” My voice trailed as San released me from his grip. I massaged on the arm that he had gripped tightly and felt so embarrassed. I looked around to make sure no one saw what just happened but a couple of students at a nearby table was glancing our way and I knew they were talking about us. I massaged the area that San had gripped so tightly, my jaw clenched so hard I could hear my teeth gritting. I could only bow my head in embarrassment and avoided eye contact with anyone. I never thought I’d get humiliated publicly like that, not especially from the man I loathed the most.

We ate in silence and by the time we were done, I thanked him again and quickly walked off. When I thought I was out of his sight, I slowed my pace down and then came to a halt. My breathing was starting to get heavier and I had to balance myself on the wall. After what seemed like a minute of self-assurance, I straightened my back and walked on only to be stopped by a grip on my hand. I turned and was shocked to see San. I tried to yank my arm away from his grip, but he wouldn’t let go. Instead, he loosened it and took a look at it before massaging it gently.

He gazed at me with his now softened eyes and I just stared at him, confused as to what was happening. He was still massaging my arm and then sighed quietly.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

I was confused because here was the man who I had loathed so much, suddenly apologising for grabbing me roughly and then humiliating me. I wasn’t sure what to make of it but only nodded.

“I really am… sorry. I hope you can forgive me.” I noticed guilt in his voice and noting the genuinity in his eyes, I forgave him.

“<y/n>?”

We both jumped and saw who the owner of the voice was. Jongho stared at the both of us and I could feel panic overwhelming me. Side-glancing San one last time, I strode past Jongho and back into the auditorium and packed up my bags. Jongho startled me when he came up behind me and I gave him a weak smile.

“<y/n>, are you alright?” I just nodded my head and pushed passed him but he gently grabbed my arm, unconvinced with my reply. “Wanna talk about it?”

Shaking my head, I pulled my arm away and smiled faintly at him. “I’ll… see you tomorrow.”

“<y/n>, wait!”

I ran passed San and the next thing I knew, I was on the bus, on the way home feeling confused and frustrated.

We met up two days later as all three of us were busy and I had an evening class the day before. San said he was going to be late and neither of us minded. When it was just Jongho and I alone in the room again, tranquility and comfort filled the air.

We’ve been at our laptops for two hours and I was beginning to get bored, so I decided to have a bit of fun. Since Jongho was sitting opposite me, I crushed a small piece of paper and threw it at Jongho, who was surprised by my attack.

“What was that for?” Jongho smiled slightly and continued typing but occasionally giving me glances, making me smile a little.

I played Bruno Mars on my laptop and began singing along, evident that boredom has taken a toll on me.

“You like Bruno Mars?” Jongho’s eyes lit up and suddenly I have peaked his interest.

“I like his songs.” I smiled and sang along loudly to Grenade and suddenly he chimed in, belting his high notes and falsetto, surprising me. I stopped singing and watched as he sang along, his voice echoing through the room.

When he saw that I stopped singing and was staring at him, he got bashful and glanced elsewhere. “What?”

“You have a beautiful singing voice.” My compliment made him blush even harder and I thought that was the cutest thing ever.

“I-I do?”

“Yes.” I giggled and bit on my lower lip, hoping he’d agree to my request. “Would you… sing something for me?”

Jongho gazed at me and he seemed uncertain but I encouraged him to sing. “Well, w-what do you want me to sing?”

“You’ve probably heard of this song, but it’s called Say Something by A Great Big World. It features Christina Aguilera,” I said softly, my eyes never leaving his handsome face. His eyes met mine and we were locked in on the staring game for some good minutes before he cut it off by clearing his throat.

“Oh, that song. I’ve heard it. It’s a sentimental piece,” Jongho straightened his back and begin singing acapella, his melodious and gentle voice resonating through the room. At some point, I could feel him pouring his emotions into the song, making my hair stand and sending shivers down my spine.

He stopped after a while and when he opened his eyes, I saw passion. I figured he loved singing but probably had to give it all up. I clapped my hands in elation, feeling the warmth in my heart.

“How’d I do?”

“Beautiful. You did beautifully.” We sat in silence, our smiles never fading.

“I wish you’d show me more of this side to yourself,” I said quietly, my gaze lifting up to meet his eyes. He was quiet and his smile was starting to fade. “I wish you’d talk with me more.”

Jongho leaned back in his chair and brushed his hand through his hair. “Why are you interested in me? I’m nothing.”

My head snapped up and I was speechless. Speechless and astounded at how he remarked himself to be. “You’re not nothing. Jongho, I-”

Our conversation was interrupted by San’s presence. He was panting rather heavily and I could see beads of sweat building up on his forehead and temple.

“Sorry I’m late.” San sat down and was breathing like a dog and I figured he must have ran. “Damn Professor Chan held me back just to lecture me on my report. Fucking asswipe said I plagiarised a big chunk of it and told me to redo it and gave me three days to resubmit.”

Jongho and I exchanged glances but remained silent. It was something to be expected from San since he took college pretty lightly.

When my eyes met San’s, I quickly looked away and fumbled with my laptop. San dropped a paper bag on my laptop, catching me by surprise. I glanced at him and he was fanning himself.

“To make up for what happened two days ago.” I opened up the paper bag and inside were 2 rolls of onigiri and a small bottle of banana milk. Still bitter about what happened, I gave a small smile and bowed my head in gratitude. San could tell I wasn’t fully forgiving of him.

Jongho watched as the exchange unfold before him and he felt heat coursing through his veins. He didn’t know why he was jealous, but he just was. Rolling his eyes at us, Jongho continued typing and ignored us for the remainder of time in the room.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at 5PM?” I asked Jongho and he merely nodded his head. I felt my heart sunk a little and began to wonder if I did something wrong to upset him. Jongho left without saying a word and I was left flabbergasted, confused by his behaviour.

Just as I was about to descend the stairs, San gently stopped me by grabbing my hand. I swivelled but I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to have anything to do with him at all.

“<y/n>... I know you really hate me right now, and I… can understand that. But know that what I did to you was unforgivable and I truly am sorry.” San fiddled with his fingers and he pursed his lips together, revealing a set of dimples that’s indented on either sides of his cheeks. It was something I had never noticed before. “<y/n>, please let me make it up to you.”

I wasn’t sure how he was going to make it up to me but I wasn’t going to give in so easily.

“Would you like to have dinner with… me tomorrow? Please.”

I could feel my lips parting slightly but no words came out. I wasn’t sure how to respond to that and I didn’t want to make it look so easy for him.

“I’ll think about it.” I turned on my heels but not before San stopped me again.

“I really am… sorry.”

I gazed at him knowingly and moved on, not wanting to make him apologise relentlessly. The more I think about it, the more I realised that San wasn’t as bad as he looks. Then I thought of Jongho and things were starting to get complicated.

Brutally complicated.

#ateez #jongho #san #ateez jongho #ateez san #ateez angst #jongho x reader #san x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez imagine #choi san #choi jongho

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the-clocktower · 5 years

Note

Hey, CW! I love your blog and personally apologize that you were forced into making it (I feel that on many levels), but, uh, quick question... how bad are you at web design because this design is awful and I'm sorry. The body text is a poor font choice for readability, the tag color is the same as the background, everything blends in FAR too much, there's no visuals whatsoever which is fine, maybe, if the colors differed, but you NEED a background of #4d0066 and an off-white text and also

Danny waited patiently after explaining his plan clearly and concisely, giving his friends the time that they needed to think everything over before deciding. He gave them twelve seconds, which, really, that was plenty of time. “So? C’mon, let’s get to work! CW is only gonna be distracted so long.”

“No, no, no, back up here. You stole their laptop- They have a laptop?” Tucker looked some mixture of delighted and confused, Danny feeling a surge of empathy for the same exact feelings he had gone through when discovering the laptop and subsequently the blog that CW had actually made (an event shortly followed by Danny being forced to sit down and finish his homework). “And you want to… what do you want to do?”

“Change their blog, duh. I mean, look- Here, let me show you what it looks like right now.” Danny, still in his ghost form, flew over to Sam’s large and ridiculously extravagant bed before letting himself fall and bounce a couple times before settling, making sure he was stable before pulling the borrowed laptop out of his backpack.

Sam and Tucker were quick to settle on either side of him, both of them making similar noises of disgust and horror once Danny brought up the correct blog, which, thank you, honestly. CW finally made a blog and apparently knew nothing about design.

“Jesus… I feel like I might actually cry over this- Did they use the same color for the text and background- What is this font- Danny. Danny, I can’t- I’m having an attack.” Tucker dramatically clutched his heart and fell backwards as he ‘died,’ Danny snorting as he turned to Sam.

“Well… it could definitely use some work,” Sam admitted, taking the laptop and getting to the customization screen in a few short clicks. “There, now if anything happens, they can blame me and you won’t have to go around pouting at being yelled at.”

“I don’t pout,” Danny muttered, leaning up against Sam as Tucker scrambled and moved to sit on Sam’s other side so she was now in the middle, laptop easily reachable by all of them. “Okay, so, that background color has got to go first. Like. Now.”

“No, no, we need a title for this blog first,” Tucker argued, leaning over to jab a finger at the screen. “Look at that empty space. It’s making me cry, Danny.”

“Boys, boys, settle down,” Sam made a clicking noise with her tongue, clicking around on the screen before bringing up a list of themes - free ones, Danny noticed. Honestly, disgustingly rich and she still searched for whatever was free or cheapest, which… fair. “We’re changing this blog theme, first. It’s disgusting.”

The three were silent as they scrolled through the choices, communicating in grunts, mutters, and disgusted noises. Danny was almost sure they wouldn’t actually get anywhere before he was jabbing the screen hard enough to move it, “There. That one. It’s perfect-”

“We are not giving him a Miraculous Ladybug themed blog, Danny,” Sam sighed, Danny offended at how Jazz the tone she used was. “We’re all better than that.”

“Speak for yourself,” Tucker snorted, finally shaking his head. “Forget it, colors and title first, then blog. At least with colors we’ll know what we’re looking for better, right?”

“Alright, alright,” Sam groaned. “Colors and title first. What should we use for a title? I don’t know enough about them to choose anything good.”

Danny blinked as the two turned to look at him, panicking for a moment before blurting out the first thing that came to mind. The looks only turned into confused frowns and baffled expressions, which, okay, fair, since Danny had spoken in Latin.

Clearing his throat, he spoke it more clearly, giving a shrug, “Pulvis et umbra sumus. It’s something I learned when they were helping me with Latin, it just means we are but dust and shadow.”

Sam and Tucker went quiet, shared a look, and then nodded together before Sam was typing it in with a quiet, “Fitting.” It really was, when Danny thought about it, so, there. That was one thing done. “Okay, next up is title font.”

Clicking open the options, Tucker was half-shouting at once, “Comic Sans! Sam, we gotta give him Comic Sans-”

“No, no, choose that Grumpy one, now that is perfect.” Plus CW’s reaction would be hilarious.

“What? No- Comic Sans!”

“But Tuck, c’mon, the pun-”

“Both of you shut up,” Sam snapped, glaring at the two of them almost at once which was actually impressive, if Danny had to admit to it. “We’re giving them 1785 Baskerville.”

Danny and Tucker were both quiet, sharing a long look before Tucker decided he wanted to become a ghost ahead of schedule, “Boo, you goth.” He was shoved off the bed for his troubles, something which Danny managed to not laugh at if only so he wasn’t shoved off as well.

Once Tucker crawled back onto the bed they got back to designing, arguing over colors (“Oh my God, it should not be taking this long to have a sample color just pick something!”), font choices (“No, screw you both, we’re going to use Google Fonts like a normal family we are not having another fight over this!”), and which theme they should go with (“You know what? Screw it- Screw it! We’re just going to use the Tumblr Official theme like heathens and edit that!”)

It was taking longer than Danny thought it would, but slowly and surely the blog was coming together, Tucker having firmly taken over once it got to the actual coding part of the website, which was how they ended up with transparent textures to go with their background color (“Aw, but, guys, c’mon, this texture looks like stars! How cool is that!”), a transparent texture for the posts themselves (“I know you like your stars, Danny, but it won’t work with the font color and look, the parchment fits, don’t you think?”), and even a cooler looking blog title (“You know what? Here, no, we’ll put a text-shadow command on the title- There. That looks pretty cool, don’t you think?”)

There were a few hiccups along the way in choices (“No, no, make his avatar shape a square, because… you know. He’s such a square.”), but at the end they had a nice blog that really had taken way too long and Danny was half-certain that CW was about to show up and yell at them any second.

“You know,” Sam said at the very end, “This is still kind of a boring looking blog, everything considered. We could have gone way more crazy with all of this.”

“I mean… yeah, I guess so,” Danny admitted, closing the laptop and carefully putting it back in his bag. “But I didn’t want to like, you know, really make something crazy, I guess. I mean… Their blog sucked, but it’s still their blog, you know?” Danny shrugged, floating off the bed and giving a light stretch. “Dunno, just figured I’d tweak it a little to fit them better instead of having them waste time on it. You know, show off that wise old mentor who cares and has everything together and stuff thing.”

Danny barely even finished before a pillow being thrown at his face, Tucker laughing as Sam booed him. “You’re too nice! Get that sickeningly sweet attitude out of my room!” She was grinning even as she ‘yelled’ at him, Danny rolling his eyes with a laugh as he did as told.

Not even half an hour later and Danny was back where he started, laptop returned to its proper place and back open and waiting.

It was the latest ask that he saw in the inbox that had him pausing, Danny reading through the ask and unable to help himself whatsoever as he snickered before clicking the ask to respond.

you know what asker? you’re absolutely right so lets try this out

-Danny

[Story and blog re-design by ibelieveinahappilyeverafter.]

#ask blog #danny phantom #clockwork #long post #text #(story)#(this post is basically saying danny took over the blog)#(and gave it a new look)#(blog owner is to friend as i am to danny)#(i hated their blog too much so i fixed it muah ha ha)

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ourneverendingpossibilities · 5 years

Text

Commission: A Knight and his Prince

Anime: Kuroko no Basuke & Haikyuu! Pairing: Kise Ryouta x Oikawa Tooru Rating: K+ A/N: This commission has been LONG overdue. It’s going to be made into a second or third part. @followwhereshegoes asked for An Oikise Royal AU and I’ve been meaning to start on it a year ago.. (I think even longer.) Sadly, with my writer’s block, depression, and overall life, I haven’t been able to work on it. I finally got motivated to start it. Which is why I’m making it into two or three parts. Because she was the one who got me into the pairing as well. She has to wait the longest in terms of commissions.. I deeply apologize for the wait, and I really hope I can finish the other two parts . Thanks for the help Lisa! :D

_______________

Trust is a powerful, yet fragile emotion. One in which Kise Ryouta no longer has. Since the destruction of his old clan, forced to abandon his family, his friends, he has very little in being close with anyone else. Despite this, the future King of Seijo persists in gaining his trust, of getting close to him.

He wouldn’t fall for it again.

Being open with people only lead to weakness, and Kise Ryouta did not become the strongest knight in the kingdom by being open. He was a closed book, and he’d be a fool to let a few pages loose. He allows himself to show enough emotion to let people know the task is done, but once that moment has passed, he’s shut off once more, and he likes his solitude.

The one exception being his chocolate brown stallion, Char.

She was his best friend, since he was a child. He’d saved her from a fire in the barn of a small village. Since then, they’d been inseparable. He had to fight tooth and nail to keep her, because Akashi didn’t believe that she was ‘majestic’ enough. But she was a lot like him, alone and spirited. Kise would never leave her behind, if it meant being a rogue knight, so be it. Wherever he went, Char followed.

Which lead to the current argument he was in the middle of.

“You know you can’t keep that horse.” A gruff Iwaizumi asserted, arms crossed. His frown was deep, as if he was guarded and not trusting of the blonde in front of him.

“I don’t care what you say.” Kise states, hand on Char’s reigns. “I’m not getting a new horse. Charcchi will always be mine. And you can’t tell me otherwise.”

Iwaizumi could feel the blood rush through his veins, teeth gnashed together in annoyance. This newbie… This knight.. He has some nerve to disrespect the King! The young Prince!

“I don’t care what clan you came from, but you’re part of Seijo’s army now, Kid.” he glares, “You will listen to what I say. And that horse can’t stay in the royal stables.”

An eyebrow raised, followed by a taunting smirk, “You think you can take me on? I’ll show you right in the middle of this room, who you’re dealing with. And trust me, Iwaizumi-san,” he sneers, “You’re not gonna come out the winner.”

Iwaizumi prepared to roll up his sleeves, taking two steps foward, when another pale hand covered his, halting him mid-step.

“That’s enough Iwa-chan…”

He turns his head, eyes wide in shock before they narrowed in anger. “Oikawa! You can’t be serious?! This child needs to be taught a lesson! He cannot have his horse here in the royal stables!”

The brunette smiles at his friend, dismissing the anger as he faces Kise, “You may now return to your room, Kise-kun. Your horse can stay in the stables, as long as you keep her clean.”

Kise faces the prince, an expression of indifference on his face. His eyes narrow for a moment, as if assessing the man in front of him, before nodding slowly, turning all his attention on his horse.

“Come on, girl.. Let’s get you to bed.” he whispers, a tiny smile on his lips. The horse makes a noise, as if agreeing before following behind her master, tail swishing carefully. She gives Iwaizumi a look, as if to warn him, before returning her attention forward. As soon as the two leave the room, Iwaizumi shrugs out of his friend’s hold, fists balled up at his sides.

“Ahoikawa! What did you just do!?? The King doesn’t want any horses in the stable that aren’t from the royal family! He is merely an outsider!”

The prince shakes his head, a hand resting on his forehead, “My dear Iwa-chan, you’re so noisy.. Must you shout this late at night?”

He growls, almost stopping his foot in agitation, “I don’t trust him! He just shows up at an opportune time, to help us?! And he just expects us to roll over and accept him?! I won’t allow that, Oikawa!”

Oikawa watches his friend, eyebrow raised in confusion. Just what was the young man implying?

“Iwa-chan, I appreciate the concern, but I don’t think we need to worry about Kise-kun.”

Iwaizumi glares, walking towards the window to watch the blonde make his way to the stables. There was something about him the knight didn’t like.. He wasn’t sure why, but a feeling in his gut told him to be wary.

“You’re naive, Prince.” he seethes, “You honestly can’t stand there and just think everything is going to be alright now he’s here… We don’t even know who he is or where he’s from.”

Oikawa frowns, a hand resting on his chin. “I’m not sure why you’re so hostile towards him. He’s proven to be an asset to our kingdom.. The King agrees with my judgement.. I don’t understand why you won’t let this go.”

Iwaizumi shakes his head, releasing a heavy sigh. “I can’t expect you to understand, Oikawa… You were always somewhat of an air-head, since we were young.” he walks to him, placing a hand on his shoulder, “Just get some sleep, because we have to head out in the morning… I don’t want to waste any time waking you from your slumber.”

The Prince pouts before watching his friend walk away. He doesn’t understand Iwaizumi’s obsession with the newcomer. It’s true they don’t know much about him, but that shouldn’t be a reason to act hostile towards the blonde.

Walking to the window, he sees the blonde setting up camp beside his horse, back facing him. It’s been three weeks since Kise’s arrival, yet he still insists on sleeping outside. As if the palace is toxic. He’s tried several times to get him to sleep in one of the guest rooms, but every night, the blonde refuses, no reason given.

How does he fix his gorgeous blonde locks every morning?

Oikawa blinks, shaking his head. Where’d that ridiculous thought come from? He doesn’t ponder on it much longer, choosing to head to his chambers. He doesn’t want to get an earful from Iwaizumi in the morning.

_____________

Morning comes fast, and Kise is quick to sneak into the palace. There’s one maid that’s grown fond of him, allowing him to wash up and do what he needs to first thing. In exchange, she’s allowed to groom Char.

The maid, who’s name escapes him, is the first person outside his old clan to be near Char, who can touch her freely without repercussions. Because he trusts her judgment, Kise knows he can trust her, and asks her for help when necessary.

Once he’s bathed, Kise heads out to the secret garden behind the castle walls. It’s a special spot to him, as he’s never disturbed and he can get some much needed rest. Char enjoys it as well, and any place she feels like home, is home to him.

He sat her down under the tall oak, sheltering them from the hot sun. When she grunts, he presses a finger to his lips.

“Shhh girl.. We need to be silent… Don’t want to get caught now do we?”

Once he takes the saddle off her back, he places it on the ground, before finding himself sitting with her. A lock of hair fell in front of his eyes, and he’s quick to move it to the side, staring up at the clouds. He feels her tail swish, adding extra wind, finding the weather to be comfortable. A day like this, where he doesn’t have to answer to anyone, Kise can find inner peace.

However, that is very short lived.

The sound of hooves against the dirt has him jumping up, grabbing the sword from his side, as if ready to fight off the intruder. Kise is left baffled when he comes face to face with the prince of Seijo, riding on his own horse. Such a magnificent creature in front of him.. That’s a royal horse!

He was lighter brown, with deep brown eyes. A black mane graced his figure, and he stood tall beside his rider. He watches him shake his head, before casting his gaze towards Char, and watches in amusement.

Well now…

“It seems they really like each other.” Oikawa quips, jumping down from his horse. “His name is Oscar, and he seems to be taking a liking to your horse, Kise-kun.”

The blonde turns his attention back to the man in front of him, “Char seems to really like him too…” he murmurs, taking a few steps back. He watches them carefully, before assessing the prince, eyebrow raised in confusion.

“I don’t mean to intrude…” he starts, catching the brunette’s attention, “But weren’t you supposed to be gone on a trip?”

Oikawa chuckles softly, causing Kise’s ear to ring, “If Iwa-chan knew I was here before a big mission, he would hurt me.” he sighs, scratching his head, “But truthfully, I like to come here before a big trip. Something about the garden is calming, wouldn’t you agree, Kise-kun?”

The blonde nodded, albeit slowly, not trusting his own voice. He thinks he’s found his horse a mate, wondering how the stern knight would feel should they ever breed.. He’d probably blow a vein with his anger..

“If you came here to check on me…” he starts, arms crossing, “I don’t need it. You don’t have to worry about me doing anything funny. I have no interest in staying in this palace for long.”

Oikawa watches the young man, tilting his head with a soft hum, “That’s a shame, Kise-kun… Having someone strong like you would be an asset to my army.”

He scoffs, giving a taunting grin, “Your army?” He runs a hand through his hair, staring down at him, “I hate to say it, Prince, but I don’t think you’ll ever have control of that army… As long as your father’s around..”

The brunette blinks, arms resting on his hips, “I’m not sure what you’re insinuating, Kise-kun,” he sneers, chocolate brown eyes darkening, “But don’t underestimate me. I may not be as stern as my father, but rest assured… The army belongs to me.. And they will always obey what I say, until the day I stop breathing.”

He hears a whistle blowing in the distance, signalling the time. Grabbing Oscar, he jumps back on him, not before taking one last look at the blonde, “I’ll have you know, you will obey me sooner or later… They all do.”

With that, he clicks his tongue, and soon he is riding towards the castle, leaving a bemused Kise in his wake.

He’s not sure how long he is left standing there, but Kise finds a smirk curling on his lips, fists against his hips. He knows a challenge when he sees it, and he has never been one to back down from one.

“I’d like to see you try…. Prince Oikawa.”

#commission #followwhereshegoes #oikise #royal AU #kuroko no basuke #Haikyuu!!#Kise ryouta x oikawa tooru #fluff

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junionigiri · 5 years

Text

Just Another Secretary Story! Chapter 4 - It’s Always Her

Chapter summary: Director Todoroki hires a new secretary.

Rating: T

It’s rare to see Midoriya as ill-tempered as he is now, yet Shouto is proud to say that when it happens it’s almost always because of him.

The green-haired executive moves to slam a handful of filled-out forms over his desk, but changes his mind at the last minute and places it gently in front of him instead. “Here’s what you asked for, Todoroki-kun. Don’t you ever make me do that again. I said so many lies I almost stress-barfed in your office! Twice!”

“Never again,” Shouto lies. “Brilliant execution as always, Midoriya. No-one suspected a thing. I could not ask for a better accomplice.”

“Flattery won’t get you anywhere,” he says with a hearty harrumph and a pleased little flush on his freckled cheeks that betrays what he just said. “Anyways I know how important this is to you so I’m glad I could help.”

The result of Midoriya’s hard work is the fake survey form that Shouto designed to help him woo Secretary Uraraka. To avoid Uraraka’s suspicions, he told the marketing chief give out other forms to anyone willing to answer them. By the end of the day he gets five neatly filled-out forms with a wealth of valuable information hidden within. Now...

“Which one is Secretary Uraraka’s?”

Midoriya looks at him incredulously. “Come on, Director. You don’t know how your own secretary’s handwriting looks like?”

“How would I know what it looks like? We don’t write each other letters.”

(But if Uraraka is inclined towards romantic handwritten letters, it won’t be difficult for him to deliver. Shouto is proud to say that his calligraphy skills are superb.)

“Oh man. Okay, I’ll help.” The chief starts sifting through the papers with intense concentration. “Okay, so this one is Ashido-san’s, I’m sure I saw her use a sparkly purple gel pen to sign all her documents and also it’s full of hand-drawn emojis. This one’s Iida-kun’s, since the writing’s so pressured and accurate and his ideal date is reading encyclopedias at the library with a scholarly individual who knows how to use the Dewey Decimal System. This one--”

Shouto cuts him off. “I thought this was a survey for women.”

Midoriya shrugs. “The guys felt left out, so I gave them some too.”

“Hm.”

“Anyhow… this one is Monoma-kun ‘cause it’s written entirely in French. And this one I think is by Kirishima-kun ‘cause he drew himself doing pull-ups at the gym...”

Shouto rubs the space between his eyes as he wonders how in the world this group of people manage to become the most productive set of people in the company.

“... oh! And here’s Uraraka-san’s.”

Midoriya hands him the form in question. The handwriting is small and messy, but legible. The few erasures were crossed out with a single line and countersigned. All in all a civilized entry, but only at about 85%.

Shouto wrinkles his nose in suspicion. “How are you sure that this is hers?”

“Process of elimination,” the freckled chief answers with confidence. “That, and… she wrote her name on it.”

True enough the characters for Uraraka Ochako are scrawled on top of the page. All right then.

Shouto reads through the answers within the span of a minute, absorbing every detail, and rereading them again. With each review, he feels the smile on his face grow larger.

Is this really the ordinary relationship with an ordinary person that Secretary Uraraka wants? While it’s nothing that he expected at all from his capable secretary…

“Todoroki-kun, you’re smiling a little too evilly there,” Midoriya mumbles nervously. “What are you planning?”

Isn’t this going to be too easy? “Nothing special, Midoriya. Just something ordinary.”

With a new plan forming in his head, he’s sure that Uraraka isn’t going anywhere.

The top of that day’s agenda is the interview for Secretary Uraraka’s replacement.

About a dozen men and women with all sorts of impressive accomplishments patiently wait for their turn outside the Office of the Executive Director. The first candidate sits politely on the plush sofa in front of Ochako and the Director himself.

Utsushimi Camie, 30 years old, a proud graduate of Shiketsu’s communications department. Not surprising. All of them tended to be from Shiketsu or UA or Ketsubutsu or some fancy university overseas. Ochako, who only finished a certificate course in secretarial work, has only dreamed of having that kind of education. It’s still baffling nine years later how an underqualified twenty-year old temp like her ever managed to get hired by Chairman Todoroki’s son.

Now that she’s at the other side of the table, maybe she’ll gain some insight on it. Ochako opens Utsushimi’s file and gives her a bright smile. “Utsushimi-san, thank you for coming. How are you feeling today?”

The first thing anyone will notice about Utsushimi is how gorgeous she is--long light-brown hair, full lips, a good figure, an elegant fashion sense. The confident way she carries herself makes her look like she belongs in this office. Ochako automatically thinks she’s perfect for the job.

And then she speaks. “Yeah, I’m totes… I mean, totally feeling super great today, thanks for asking! I’m so stoked to be here. Cool office, cool space… and you two are looking super hot today too, by the way.”

Ochako’s smile freezes on her face, while Director Todoroki’s face remains stoic. Okay then...

Clearing her throat, Ochako moves on to the first question. “So, Utsushimi-san--”

“You can call me Camie, I totally don’t mind.”

“... Utsushimi… Camie-san.” Keeping a careful side-eye on Director Todoroki, Ochako continues. “It says here that you worked at Orca Law Office before. What were your responsibilities there?”

“The low down in Law Town? Okay, I gotcha.” Confidently, she gives a breakdown of all the things she had to do and all the things she’s capable of doing. Ochako asks her a few more questions about what she knows of the company, current events, and hypothetical situations. Camie is able to answer them properly, although her language is too… casual for the setting.

Okay, so she isn’t bad. Ochako’s sure that the Director would reject her immediately, though. He had rejected applicants in the past just by the way they said their names. But the minutes pass by with Camie talking, and he has not said a single scathing word yet.

Ochako looks at him, and suddenly it’s apparent why he’s so silent--his odd eyes are staring at a spot in the ninth dimension. Looks like he hasn’t been listening at the very start. Ochako is rightfully irritated. Damn him if he thinks that he’ll make her do all the work here!

“Director, do you have anything you want to ask Utsushimi-san?”

Todoroki’s eyeballs moves to her in utter disinterest. “Must I?”

The smile on Ochako’s mouth strains. “Of course. She might be your future secretary, after all.”

He turns to Camie, who is looking too relaxed for the menacing gaze being directed at her. The Director taps his fingers on his armrest for a few tense moments, stretching the suffocating silence in between.

Just as Ochako considers breaking the silence with another question, Director Todoroki finally speaks up. “I have an important question for you, Utsushimi-san.”

A feeling of foreboding instantly fills Ochako’s chest. Utsushimi seems oblivious to the chill in the air as she asks, “Ya, fire away.”

He gives a meaningful side-glance to his present secretary as he asks, “If I hire you, how many years will it take before you quit?”

Ochako’s face stiffens.

Camie hums thoughtfully. “If I get this job, I’m defo not gonna think about quitting, y’know? Like, I came here to work, so, yeah. That’s just weird.”

“Yes, isn’t it?” Now he shows interest, and Ochako does not appreciate it at all. “But let’s say that you’re going to quit. That you have to quit because of something as trivial and vague as personal reasons. How many years will be acceptable before you get to that point? Say… three years? Five? Nine?”

Oh that’s just foul. Ochako barely keeps her jaw dropping at that blatant jab.

To the strange question, Camie merely chuckles. “A hundred? I’m kidding, I seriously dunno. I can tell you though that I’m too legit to quit, ya feel me? And if I have to quit, it’ll be legit. Vague is totally not my style.”

Ochako sees Todoroki’s mouth move again, but this time she beats him to it. “But Camie-san, the demands of this job are massive and unforgiving. What’ll you do if you and Director Todoroki’s definition of ‘legit’ don’t overlap?”

Camie shrugs. “Then I guess I won’t quit?”

“Great answer.” Todoroki smirks at Ochako. “Do you think these standards are worth attaining given the benefits you’ll be receiving? Health, security, experience--”

“Ya. They’re pretty lit~”

“So Camie-san, are you saying that you’ll be prepared to sacrifice everything for this job just for the benefits? It’s not just going to work early and going home late and not having days off. It’s literal blood, sweat, tears, heartache--”

“If I have to, sure. N-B-D.”

“But surely all the hours and blood and sweat and tears and heartache are necessary sacrifices for the good of the company. Didn’t you come here expecting to give your all for Endeavor Inc?”

“Sacrifices are okay, but Camie-san, sure you ain’t��I mean, you aren’t expecting to lose your sense of self just for the good of the company, are you?”

“Uh…”

Before either of them realize it, Director and Secretary have abandoned the interview completely in favor of glaring at each other from opposite ends of the couch. By the end of it Director Todoroki’s eyes are flaring, while Ochako’s knuckles are sore from gripping Camie’s file too hard.

“Utsushimi,” Todoroki calls, but he isn’t looking at her at all; he doesn’t even seem to be aware that she’s there anymore. No, all that cold, raw emotion behind is eyes is for Ochako and Ochako alone. “Do you think that nine years of working with me is... will be a waste of your life?”

A chill runs through her as if she’s struck by ice. There isn’t much that Ochako can do to stop her hands from shaking and her lower lip from quivering except to stare at him in shock.

Camie stares at them one after the other with an interested smile on her face. “Um. If you hire me, I’ll do my best,” is what she decides on saying after an awkward silence.

His glaring heterochromatic eyes not leaving Ochako’s, Director Todoroki raises his right hand and slams it on the table. “Great. You’re hired.”

“What?!” Ochako cries before she can stop herself.

“Whoa, for real?”

“Indeed. Welcome to the team.” Director Todoroki stands up from the couch, too self-satisfied for Ochako to feel comfortable. “Well then, Secretary Uraraka, I’ll leave the transfer of duties to you. I’m confident that you won’t leave until Secretary Utsushimi is able to do your job adequately.”

Trying to keep herself from clenching her jaw, Ochako smiles stiffly. “Of course, Director. You can count on me.”

She wonders if Camie’s actively choosing to ignore the drama or if she’s just that dense, but she is entirely unaffected by the showdown that took place. “You guys, you totes had me going there, I thought I was cancelled the moment I walked in! C’mere, c’mere, employment selfie yeahhhhhh!!!”

Before either of them can react, Camie already has her phone out and has expertly squooshed them together on the couch. Todoroki falls back on the cushions, Ochako half-stumbles over him, and Camie sits next to her brandishing a finger heart. “Let’s do this fam! Say Colorado~”

Say what you will about Utsushimi Camie, but her employment selfie with the famous icyhot Director and his stressed secretary earns her eight hundred likes and a hundred more followers within the next hour.

Disastrous interview aside, Ochako thinks she can get along well with the new secretary. She may look too laid-back and casual on the surface, but it’s surprisingly easy to get a good conversation going with her. When she starts telling her about all the intimidating things she has to learn, the other girl accepts them with an easygoing smile.

“Like, so I get that Directoroki’s extra when it comes to work so I gotta be extra too… but dang, I gotta take care of the cat too?”

“Try not to call him that,” Ochako says successfully without laughing her ass off. “Victoria’s got her own file right here--” she pats one of the thickest clearbooks in the pile of things Camie has to memorize by the end of the week, “--but it’ll be a while before you get cat duties, so don’t worry about her for now. For the first week, you’ll focus on the work in the office.”

“Gotcha, senpai. ”

“Oh, you don’t have to,” Ochako stammers, even though she feels her ears clapping happily at the feeling. “I mean--I’m a year younger than you, plus I’m quitting real soon, so I won’t be your senpai for long. Just Ochako is fine!”

“Hm… gotcha, Ocha-babes,” Camie says with a wink.

Ocha-babes?

“‘Cause you have such a baby face. I mean, you’re a real cutie pie. A Sanrio character. I bet your boyfriend pinches your cheeks all day. Oh my god.”

Ochako blushes all the way to the roots of her hair. “Thanks I think? But I don’t have a boyfriend...”

“Nah?” Camie asks with a pucker of her lips. “A girlfriend then? A nonbinary pal?”

“Nope! I’m single… since birth, ” she says, slurring over the last part.

“Oh, worm.” For the first time since she got here, Camie looks terribly puzzled. “Like, tell me if I’m wrong, ‘kay? I thought people can get it on here as long as it doesn’t get in the way of work?”

“Yeah, relationships aren’t a problem. Even married people can work in the same office,” Ochako confirms.

“Oh sis that’s great news. I thought it was gonna be like Orca’s again. People got fired all the time just ‘cause they made eye contact in the office. Big yikes, right?” The taller secretary looks visibly relieved at this. “Tho I’m real surprised when you said you didn’t have anyone? ‘Cause I totally thought you were having a lover’s quarrel with Directoroki back there.”

Ochako chokes on air. “Wh--me and Directoroki--I mean, Director Todoroki?! No, we’re nothing like that!”

Camie raises her eyebrows. “So, like. The nine years wasting your life thing? He wasn’t salty AF at you for dumping him or whatever?”

“No?!” Wait, she did dump him just a couple days ago, but-- “I mean, no, that doesn’t count! We aren’t… we never-- ”

“Chiiiill.” Camie seems too amused watching the different flustered expressions she’s making. “Sorry, okay? I thought I saw some serious chemistry, but I guess I was wrong.” Going back to the next file, she says, “How ‘bout this one? No kettles allowed near the Director. Seriously?”

Ochako nods. “That’s right. I know it’s weird, but you can’t forget it, okay? It’s really important...”

The other girl makes a face. “Uh-huh. Is it, like, a rich person thing? Is he too bourgeois for kettles or somethin’?”

She shakes her head. “... no. It’s because he doesn’t feel comfortable around them…”

She learned this the hard way during their first year of working together. She wanted to show him how earnest she was by making him tea without being asked. The kettle hadn’t even been on, it wasn’t going to hurt anyone, but he started shielding his face like it was going to burn him. He curled into himself and wouldn’t speak for what felt like hours, even after she threw the kettle out and apologized profusely and tried to comfort him.

When he finally found his voice and managed to curb the shaking, he asked her quietly to never let him near another kettle again. It was the first time he had asked her of something that wasn’t a command, but a plea--the first time he seemed so…

Human…

Even though she can’t keep her eyes off the scar, she never knew the story behind it. She never asked and he never said anything. She convinced herself that she can exist beside him without digging up that part of his past--she was afraid that she’d hurt him again if she did.

Forcing herself back to the present, she gives Camie a pleading smile. “I’m the same with fire, you know? If I see even a little flame from a lighter, I’d start shaking and crying like a baby even though I should know better... the Director doesn’t put me anywhere near them because he knows how I’m not comfortable around fire, so I try my best to keep him away from kettles. We should just respect that, okay?”

Camie looks at her carefully. “... aight. Any and all kettles shall be yeeted off the face of this earth. Gotcha.”

Ochako giggles. “The yeeting isn’t necessary, but thanks for understanding!”

Thankfully Camie doesn’t ask further about her or the Director. She wonders if she’s too protective of the Director, but she truly can’t stand to see him like that again.

Later on she decides to introduce Camie to the rest of the office. They react about the same as she expected--Monoma sizes her up, Mina dances with her, Kirishima shakes her arm so hard it almost pops off its socket, and Iida gives her a stern lecture about formal workplace Japanese that lasts all of fifteen minutes.

“--and furthermore, unless you are speaking about lanterns, LEDs, hazardous fires, the sun, or other luminous things, kindly refrain from using the term lit to describe anything--”

What she doesn’t expect though, is Camie nudging Ochako in the middle of Iida’s impassioned, action-packed speech to whisper, “Yo, this one’s mine, ‘kay?” with a wink.

Ochako gives her a “go ahead then” nod.

By the time Iida is done, the work-day is pretty much done too. After shaking himself out of Iida-induced slumber, Kirishima gathers everyone ‘round. “Hey, I got an idea! We should throw Utsushimi the manliest welcome party ever!”

Everyone but Iida cheers. “A party?! Preposterous! It’s a weekday!” he protests. “We should concentrate on preserving our energies for attending to the Director’s needs tomorrow!”

“Iida, don’t be such an Iida ! You already bored her to death with your lecture, now we gotta prove to Camie-chan that we aren’t workbots like you!” Mina whines.

“Agreed.” Monoma directs an ominous smile at Camie. “It’ll be good for Utsushimi-san to have one last peaceful meal as a free person, right?”

“Ya, totes,” Camie answers, unfazed. It’s pretty satisfying how Monoma’s face sours at that, and how it sours more when Camie ignores his antics in favor of Iida. Turning to the glasses man with a flair that makes her hair swirl, she smiles and says, “Fam, we’re all going to be working together like real fam, right? Bonding is part of work too~”

Iida sputters like a malfunctioning engine. “Perhaps that is so, however, I do not see the need for high-cholesterol food and alcohol to--”

“ Mou! Ochako-chan, just tell us we’re allowed to party already!” Mina says, going into a full blown tantrum. “I want barbecue, barbecue!!! Oh, but don’t worry, the place I’m thinking of has electric grills, so no worries about fire or anything...”

She loves this office. She’s really going to miss them when she leaves. “Sure, why not? I’m starving!”

Again, everyone but Iida cheers. The glasses man just sputters more. “B-but the Director…!!”

“It’s fine, he let us go early so we can focus on Camie. Besides, if he needs you, Iida-kun, he’ll just pick you up at the party!”

Iida scowls through the jeers of the others in the office. “That is not funny, Uraraka-kun, nor is it accurate. You’re his priority, not me.”

“Yeah. He’d sooner join us at this plebe’s party than to let Uraraka out of his sight for one night,” Monoma comments idly as they trail out of the office one by one.

On top of being the resident rat bastard (self-proclaimed), Monoma just might be the office prophet as well.

So there they were in the hole-in-the-wall barbecue place. The grill’s electric as Mina promised so they’re able to cook the beef belly slices without Ochako getting a panic attack. Monoma’s goading Camie into a fight, Mina’s goading Monoma, Camie’s flirting with Iida, Iida’s trying to decode her words as if they were the Hammurabi code, and Kirishima’s dumping overcooked meat onto everyone’s plates. There’s food and beer and everyone’s getting redder and redder in the face. It’s fun.

It happens at around the fifth batch of meat that Kirishima burns to a crisp. “I daresay, Kirishima! This beef is not beef anymore, but a piece of coal!” Iida complains.

“Bro, crispy meat’s manly! Come on, eat up!”

“Blegh. I prefer my meat to not be as dark and shrunken as Director Todoroki’s soul, thanks,” Monoma hiccups. “I can’t see anything ‘cause of all the smoke. Someone confiscate the tongs from Kirishima before I shove them right up--”

A cold, bitter wind from the dead of winter floods the air around them and stops all conversation in their tracks. Kirishima drops the meat tongs with a loud noise.

It’s impossible that the entire restaurant would fall so deathly silent, yet Ochako can hear nothing but the familiar footfalls of genuine Italian leather over the grimy concrete floor. Closer, and closer, and closer. Around the table, everyone but the confused Camie exchanges mildly horrified looks and then stare right at Ochako.

Don’t tell me…

“Secretary Uraraka.”

Out of the smoke of burnt spicy beef comes the silhouette of none other than Todoroki Shouto.

“Director?” Ochako is the first to stand to bow, followed by the rest of the table who is only half a millisecond slower to shift from completely drunk to painfully sober. “What are you doing here?”

The stoic executive has an ungodly strong presence that makes everyone in a hundred meter radius stop and stare. But the overall effect is different in this grimy barbecue place versus the lofty offices of Endeavor Towers--he sticks out less as a divine presence and more like a sore thumb. He’s entirely aware of this too, judging by the way his nose wrinkles in distaste.

“This is an activity of the Office of the Executive Director.” He points to himself. “I’m the Executive Director. I should be here.”

Ochako can almost hear the same panicked internal thoughts of every member of the team: shiiiiiiit. Who snitched?!

It’s probably too late to salvage this very awkward situation, but to Iida’s credit he is the first to gallantly try. He jumps off his spot and bows at perfect ninety-degree angles. “O-o-of course, the Director should be at the very forefront of this activity! How shameful we are to forget! Why, I am astonished! Ashamed! Utterly mortified that he is not involved at the very beginning!”

“As you should.” Todoroki breezes past him, uncaring of the way Iida flinches like he just got stabbed by an icicle through the gut and the way everyone else is suddenly paper white and shaking in their shoes. “Uraraka, I’ll forgive this oversight today. Just today. This will not stand in the future.”

“Of course not sir,” Ochako replies, scrambling for her polite and efficient and not-drunk secretary voice deep within her brain, “But you made it! In this, um, event without anyone telling you how to get here! So thank you for coming to Secretary Utsushimi’s welcome party!”

“You’re welcome.” And then with his version of a winning smile (which is just both corners of his mouth moving 2 picometers upward), he tells his hapless office, “Let’s continue then.”

Since taking up his position as the Executive Director of Endeavor Inc three years ago and gradually picking out members of his team, he has never joined them for social gatherings like this. It’s not that he’s opposed to eating at ordinary (cheap) restaurants and eating ordinary (cheap) meat and drinking ordinary (cheap, and likely terrible) liquor like they do, just that he’s never considered it. If they had drinks at the upscale restaurants he liked maybe he’d join them, but then again socializing for work is exhausting enough as it is and he’d rather drink the aged whisky he kept at home.

That was then. Now he has something to prove: that he can be the ordinary man that Uraraka wants to marry. He’s going to ingest cheap meat and cheap liquor and he’s going to enjoy it so hard that Uraraka can’t say no to him.

He’s seated on an uncomfortable bench between Uraraka and Monoma, with Utsushimi on the other end; across from him are Iida, Ashido, and Kirishima. He would have seated himself at the head of the table as Iida has offered, but he didn’t like how Monoma could easily touch or grope or breathe in the general direction of his secretary. Not that he knew Monoma to do those unseemly things, but he had heard what cheap alcohol could do to any salaryman and he’s not risking his personal assistant going through any sort of harassment that will get her productivity down.

He doesn’t have any cause to worry right now though, because somehow they’re all enjoying the party in utter silence. They’ve abandoned their beers in favor of tea and ice-cold water. Ashido is the first to move since he sat down, and it is to sip at her drink with a shaking hand.

So this is how ordinary people have fun. Shouto isn’t that impressed, but far be it for him to judge anyone on how they spend their free time after work.

“S-so, Director. Would you like anything to drink?” Iida cautiously asks, face paler than usual. “Or perhaps, some beef?”

He carefully considers the dark matter on his plate. His nutritionist will take a month to correct the imbalance in his system if he ate this. “... a drink first,” he decides. Signalling one of the part-timers passing by, he says, “I’ll have a Boulevardier if it’s available.”

The part-timer stares at him blankly. “A what?”

So it’s not. He should have expected that from a place like this. “Never mind. I’ll have an amaretto sour instead.”

“ Oji-san, all we got here is beer or Pepsi, ‘kay. If ya want something fancy an’ sour I’ll boil the nicest pickles in the kitchen for ya.”

Oji-san? Since when did he become this kid’s uncle? Did any of his siblings sire a secret love child without him knowing?

Before he can ask, Secretary Uraraka covers for him. “He’ll have the tea too, thanks!”

He doesn’t know what he did to earn that flat-out glare he gets from the kitchen staff, but he isn’t going to let that deter him from his plan. “So. This is… enjoyable. You all seem to know how to have a good time.”

The strained silence over the table breaks into simultaneous laughter from all sides. “Y-yeah, we sure know how to party! Wh… Whoo-hoo!” Ashido cheers, her entire body trembling in what must be pure excitement.

“Yeah! This is fun and not awkward at all!” Monoma adds with a manic laugh bordering on insane. “So, so, so, soooo fun. My heart’s racing from 100% fun and 0% crippling fear!”

“Good.” If he can put a percentage to things, it must be accurate. Everyone else seems to agree so it looks like the evening (slash fool-proof plan) is going well. “Out of curiosity, how long does a standard party like this take?”

It is already eleven PM and late for a weeknight. It’s not a problem for him to stay out for longer--he has stayed up past midnight many times with Uraraka for work, after all, but he figured he should ask for posterity’s sake.

Uraraka clears her throat beside him. “Funny you should ask, Director! We’re actually almost done. This is our last round of drinks!”

Across from him, Ashido, Iida, and Monoma suddenly share wide-eyed looks that suspiciously look enlightened. “Th… that’s right! Because we’re responsible working adults and we must head home early on a weeknight! Now that we have thoroughly celebrated the employment of Utsushimi-kun we can happily head home to rest!”

They can go home now? It was that easy? Shouto keeps his smirk to himself. See how easy it is to do ordinary things, Uraraka? He truly isn’t a man to be underestimated.

Kirishima, however, looks puzzled over this. “Eh? But I went through all that trouble reserving the karaoke place, you guys! Did you all forget abou--ow, ow, ow, ow, Ashido!”

Oh, so they’re not yet done? How could they forget what’s on their agenda? Is that why Ashido is so angry at Kirishima? They must have been looking forward to this. Luckily for them, Shouto isn’t going to let such an ordinary mistake get in the way of their good time. “Karaoke after drinks sounds enjoyable. Let’s head out.”

And so Shouto loads them all in his car, with Uraraka on the passenger seat and the rest of them piled up at the back. The drive to the thoroughly unimpressive place Kirishima has picked out takes about ten gruelling crowded minutes. By the time they make it there, the rest of his team seem relieved to be able to finally breathe, but then make it to a just-as-suffocating small box with nauseating disco lights, an old machine, and an awful audio set-up.

And tambourines. God. He’s trying hard for Uraraka, but even she doesn’t seem to be enjoying herself in a sticky place like this. Shouto has to draw the line somewhere.

“Everyone get back in the car,” he commands darkly, and they’re all running out of the room after a beat.

It takes exactly one text message to the right person for his office to go to a better place they deserve. Shouto takes them to a small music theater in Kiyashi where the last run of Les Miserables was performed privately by his acquaintances from London’s West End. It’s unused at this time of night, so it was easy getting them to set-up for a karaoke party for seven people.

“Directoroki, you rock!” Utsushimi cheers as she rapidly takes photos of all angles of the stage.

He should probably mind the way she just stumbled over his name, but he doesn’t, because for once Uraraka seems impressed. “Let the party commence.”

His office crew’s aura is vastly different than in the barbecue place. They start drinking as soon as the cocktails are served and immediately start fighting over the microphone. Ashido wins first and slurs over a Nicki Minaj song. Kirishima tries to get Iida to sing “Be A Man” with him but ends up aggressively singing all the parts by himself. Etcetera, etcetera. With each song they sing, they progressively get drunker, bolder, and out of tune.

Surprisingly, Shouto doesn’t mind. Maybe because he’s finally drinking something that he’s sure doesn’t taste like piss. Or maybe because Uraraka’s sitting right next to him, clapping along happily as Utsushimi and Monoma sing a Carly Rae Jepsen song while threatening to judo-throw each other for the mic.

A warm feeling spreads over his chest when he looks at her. He knows it’s not just the highball he nurses over the span of an hour. He knows it’s not just the satisfaction of his plan going well. He knows it’s not indigestion from the burnt meat he didn’t eat back in the restaurant.

Uraraka’s smiling brown eyes turn to his. Suddenly his chest feels something akin to heartburn.

She says something that’s drowned out by Monoma and Utsushimi competitively screaming “I really really really really really really like you!!!” Shouto has to lean in closer to hear her. “What was that, Secretary Uraraka?”

She brings her mouth closer to his ear. Her warm breath smells like the strawberry syrup from whatever sweet drink is in her hand. It’s unnervingly pleasant. Shouto has to concentrate to understand what she’s saying. “I said, thanks Director! I really--”

--Really really really really really like you!.. And I want you! Do you want me?--

“--how about you?”

Shouto meets her expectant gaze, for once not knowing what to say. “... yes,” he answers, after a beat.

She smiles. Her cheeks are glowing light and pink, like sakura petals in the spring. “That’s awesome!” She says, for once letting go of the usual formal Japanese she uses with him. “You should join the team for drinks even after I quit, okay?”

“... ah.”

Suddenly irritated, he takes a good healthy swig of his drink and swallows with a grimace. Well… this is fine. This is only phase one of his plan. Knowing how decisive Uraraka is, she isn’t going to change her mind about him that easily. It’s actually better this way. That’s the secretary he hired, after all. That’s the person he wants to keep at his side.

Kirishima’s spiky head pushes between their conversation. “Heyyyy!! Uraraka! Are you thanking Directoroki over here?!! No fair, I wanna thank him too!”

“Excuse me?” Shouto says stiffly. The redhead ignores him though and traps him in a bone-crushing hug.

“I appreciate you! You… are the bestest, manliest boss ever, Directoroki!” Kirishima hiccups rather dramatically and rubs his cheek against Shouto’s. “And you deserve the world! And you should… you should--”

Shouto gives Uraraka a horrified look, which she throws right back at him. She visibly gains some sobriety as she attempts to pry off Kirishima’s muscular arm off of him with little success. “Kirishima-kun, you should drink some water and--”

“Heyyyyy Kiri move over! I wanna thank the Director too! Hic~” Suddenly, Shouto’s other side is being hugged by another unwelcome warm body reeking of alcohol. He freezes like a block of cement as Ashido straight-up cuddles him. “Like, you’re an awesome… awesome, handsome man, like oh my god I can’t believe how handsome you are up close, what the hell! Have you ever seen a man so beautiful you want to cry? Wait, what am I saying?…”

As Ashido starts weeping and getting lost in his face, Shouto decides he has had enough. He’s ready to shove the two assistants aside when another one decides he wants attention too.

Monoma has abandoned the stage and decides to join them. “How dare you smother the Director without me!” Fueled by alcohol, he reaches new heights of extraneousness and places himself across the increasingly uncomfortable Shouto’s lap. “Director, pick me! I’m your favorite, aren’t I?”

“Secretary Uraraka--” Shouto barks like an SOS.

Monoma pouts with a noise. “Her again? It’s always her! Are you in-love with her or something?”

It’s Uraraka’s turn to make an exasperated noise. “Honestly, you three! You are gonna get fired by tomorrow if you keep harassing the Director!”

It’s amazing how she’s still able to read Shouto’s mind so perfectly even in an absurd situation like this. But for all her warnings, all he gets for it is more unwanted bodily contact. “Harassment?! Not on my watch!”

Iida’s bellow is steadfast, but his gait is definitely not. It’s almost impressive how he keeps his body straight while also walking in an unsteady zigzag towards whatever it is that’s going on around Shouto and ends up dropping at his feet. Haplessly groping the director’s pants leg, he demands, “Cease this needless groping of the Director at once!”

“I’m getting major FOMO, y’all! Move over!” To top off this mess, Utsushimi sits near Shouto’s other foot next to Iida’s fallen body and takes her hundredth selfie with everyone. “Best party ever faaaam!!! Peace!”

That’s it, everyone is fired. Shouto is about ready to throw all of them to the floor and all their employment forms in the shredder, until a strange sound floats to his ear amidst all the drunken noises.

“Pffffttt--”

Uraraka is covering her mouth and holding onto her stomach in desperation. At first he’s worried that she’s in pain from a ruptured appendix, but further inspection reveals stuttered breathing, reddening cheeks, a smile so big that her trademark round cheeks are struggling to support it. It’s obvious that she worked so hard not to make the strange sound, but one snort and all anyone can do is watch the dam break.

Secretary Uraraka is laughing at him earnestly for the first time in nine years.

Now this shouldn’t be strange as Shouto is not a humorous man and has never given her any reason to laugh before. But now that he thinks about it, isn’t it strange to spend nine years with someone and never see them laugh or smile like this? Why hasn’t he noticed until now?

If--no, when he marries her (because he definitely will, there’s no way his plan is going to fail), is she going to allow herself to laugh like this?

“I’m s-sorry, Director,” she wheezes after another minute of desperate laughter. He’s never seen someone laugh so much that they’re in tears. He didn’t know it was a thing that happened. “I’m--we’re all going to write letters of apology tomorrow, I promise! Please don’t fire anyone!”

He takes a steadying breath. “All right. I’ll be expecting them at seven in the morning. Sharp.”

His team finally lets him go with a stunned air about them, staring at his face in interest.

“Uh… the Director’s smiling. I must be dreaming,” Ashido mumbles in a daze.

“Or wasted. I’m never drinking again.” Monoma says, holding back a gag.

The rest of the office agrees and follows the sober Shouto to his car.

With Uraraka’s guidance, they’re able to drop off all the members of his office at their designated homes without much problems. Because her home is the farthest one, Shouto takes his time getting to the correct exits (he still had to make a couple of u-turns here and there) and driving his car slowly through the narrow streets to avoid any wayward pots. He is proud to say that he is able to make it without any further incidents. Uraraka gets down from his car safely.

He escorts her as far as the unimpressive entrance to her apartment. “So… this is me, Director,” she says quietly, feet shuffling against the welcome mat. “Um. Thanks for dropping me off, but you didn’t need to walk me all the way here.”

“It’s nothing.”

She has a difficult time keeping eye contact with him tonight, which is rare. Maybe it’s from her impulsive actions earlier, or maybe because she’s noticed the way he’s plotting the exact color and diameters of her wide brown eyes, her cheeks. The more he stares, the pinker her cheeks get. It’s an interesting scientific phenomenon.

Objectively speaking, Uraraka has an... acceptable face. People with acceptable faces tend to be subjected to prolonged looks. From experience he knows how uncomfortable this can get and hates that he’s subjecting her to the same treatment, but he can’t stop staring. She’s just so… round. And soft-looking. He’s tempted to touch her cheeks even if there’s no real purpose behind them than to see if they’re as soft as they appear.

He doesn’t usually get senseless impulses like this. Maybe he isn’t that sober after all.

Uraraka clears her throat and finally looks up at him. “Out of curiosity, Director. You never joined us for drinks before, but tonight you really… um…”

He hums. “Everyone needs an ordinary night out to unwind, once in a while.”

Upon the word ordinary, her face falters, and then contorts into laughter again--truly an interesting sound. “There’s nothing ordinary about the night you gave us, Director Todoroki! But it’s good. It’s fun. You really surprised us, in a good way.”

What, so his attempts at ordinary failed after all? He’s a little nonplussed about this, but the giggle from her tells him that it isn’t all for nothing.

“But please, no more surprises in the future, okay? I’m not sure if my heart can take it.”

“I make no such promises,” he says flatly, “but if your heart is not okay, please get a comprehensive cardiovascular workup done as soon as possible.”

Uraraka’s eyes crease in a way he’s never seen before. “Goodnight, Director Todoroki.”

He steps away from her with a feeling suspiciously similar to reluctance. She doesn’t go in immediately and instead sees him off at the entrance. Just before he gets back to the driver’s seat, he calls out, “Uraraka,”

“Yes, Director?” she calls out in mild surprise.

“I warned you not to underestimate me.” He gives her a little upturn of the lips and climbs aboard. “Goodnight.”

The last thing he sees of her is her stunned figure through the rearview mirror. Satisfied, he speeds off into the night without a second glance.

#bnha fic #todoroki shouto/uraraka ochako #todochako #todoroki shouto #uraraka ochako #midoriya izuku #iida tenya #utsushimi camie #kirishima eijirou #ashido mina #monoma neito #my writings #ahhh whats this why am i updating so regularly

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