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btsmosphere · 4 years

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Crossfire | KTH

Moodboard Masterlist

~summary: The night your life blew up sent you on a collision course with the campus bad boy, Kim Taehyung. Though you were well aware of his reputation, it was his doorstep you ran to when you were bleeding with nowhere to go.

~word count: 6.4k

~gang!au, mafia!au, college!au, angst, fluff, action, strangers to lovers, friends to lovers

Warnings: swearing, injury, dangerous driving, mention of drugs (warnings apply to each part individually, please read them)

~a/n: I am actually super happy with this chapter, I hope you guys feel the same! Y/N and Tae go on a lil adventure... I also had to make up a name for a cartoon show for this lmao,, and as always, thanks for the love!!

Something was tugging you from sleep.

Softly, though, so you didn’t notice until it was already too late, and your senses were with you all at once. In one last protest against the waking world, you didn’t open your eyes, stubbornly lying there instead, your back to the side of the bed Taehyung used. Then the same something that had woken you up started again.

He was singing.

That was all it took, and your eyes were open, body stiffening. Taehyung, however, noticed nothing. His song continued, one you had never heard before, and his voice was beautifully soft and smooth, expressive even at such a low volume. Clearly he had been hoping not to wake you up.

Swallowing, you forced your eyes to fall closed again. After the initial shock, you soon found it easy to relax to his calming melody, the duvet and pillow enveloping you in combination with his voice. And despite the warmth in your little bubble under the covers, goosebumps rose along your arms.

You really couldn’t get your head round Taehyung.

Though you had seen him being silly, all that time at college you had spent at a distance from him, he had seemed cold, intimidating. It had been a shock to you when he had been so amicable those months ago, and that soon became the Taehyung you knew, but he was still a mystery… His singing had really thrown you for a loop, another puzzle piece thrown in amongst the jumble you were already trying to make sense of when it came to this boy.

All day, you couldn’t get his song out of your head. Specifically, his voice.

His voice. Singing his song.

Him, him, him.

Last night he had mentioned that the books he had brought you were some of his favourites. Another surprise: who would have known that Kim Taehyung, the king of bad reputation, had a hidden love of fashion, an inner art connoisseur?

Now the books meant something different.

You read them even quicker after that, drinking in every word as if there were a drought.

Perhaps there was.

When you finished the last one in the stack, you were instantly back to the real world within four walls. It was only morning as well, judging by the light. Brilliant. One whole day and nothing to do.

“Y/N!”

Obnoxious footfalls. Taehyung was taking the stairs two at a time.

The bedroom door swung open to a slightly breathless Taehyung, leaning his weight against the door handle he had yet to let go of.

“Sorry it’s so late. You okay?”

You were lying across the bed’s width, head falling over the end nearest him, hair brushing the floor.

“Yep. Do you want me to cook?”

He only frowned down at you for a second longer before continuing as if one member of the conversation wasn’t upside down.

“Ah, no. I didn’t get any food.”

“But we basically ran out yesterday,” you frowned.

“I know,” he said, “but today we are going to the food.”

Now that made you sit up.

“What?”

“Yep,” a proud smile made its way onto his face and he straightened up, “we’re going out.”

When your only response was a wide-eyed stare, he took it as his cue to elaborate.

“I know you’ve been going a little crazy inside, so I thought we could go for an adventure. Hobi’s racing tonight and he says we can join him.”

“Hoseok?” you questioned.

“Yeah. Sound good?”

It did. You knew it shouldn’t. You weren’t naïve – you knew what he meant by racing. Idiots breaking every road law possible for clout, or maybe money. It was precisely what you had always stayed away from.

But it sounded so good.

“Sounds perfect,” you grinned.

First, Taehyung helped you find the pair of his jeans you were most likely to fit into; since you had been at his, you had mainly worn sweats for comfort’s sake, but this occasion called for a change. Wearing a hoodie was non-negotiable though, to hide your face.

After rolling up the hem of his black jeans, you slung on the most nondescript hoodie he had. Shoes, however, were more of an issue, so Taehyung vowed to buy you some once you were out. Also wearing black, Taehyung looked much more stylish than you in cargo pants, a bomber jacket and a bandana.

“Did you take your painkiller?” was the last thing on the list before finally leaving, via the side door.

Night had descended completely by now, putting you more at ease. You walked far away from streetlights when you could, but as you drew closer to the city centre, that was the last thing on your mind.

Being outside was just what you needed. You breathed in the cold air and drizzle on your face, eyes following each car that whirred past and people’s boots splashing in puddles of melted neon. And what made it all the more thrilling was the knowledge that you were taking a risk.

So far, you had been clumsily walking around in Tae’s sliders, until suddenly a man came barging past you on the sidewalk. In your dash to dodge him, you tripped over the too-big shoes, barrelling straight into Taehyung’s stomach where his arms steadied you.

You barely had a chance to straighten before Tae had turned around, bent down and grabbed the backs of your knees, forcing you to fling your arms around his neck, shrieking as he hoisted you onto his back. Grinning while you complained into the back of his neck, he carried on, but soon he was dragging you into a store that was still open – though not for long – and you grabbed the cheapest sneakers going.

With that problem solved, food was the next priority. In the end, you chose a street vendor and headed to your rendezvous with steaming bags in hand.

Not far from the centre, once you wound through the smallest streets enclosed by the tallest buildings, you emerged onto a car park. It wasn’t as secluded as you had expected for underground racing, still lit up in colours by the signs of shops that backed onto it, the entrance opening onto a wide road.

Cars were lined up, one pulling up at the same time as you and Taehyung. None were flashy sports cars: instead the line-up came in various states of repair, altered by their owners with darkened windows, underglow, stickers, spoilers, you name it.

“Hoseok!”

Beside you, Taehyung shouted across the car park, waving an arm above his head. Then his hand wrapped around your wrist and he lead you through the thin crowd over to the older bangtan boy, who pulled his friend in and clapped him on the back.

Hoseok joined the two of you as you sat on the wall to eat, watching as the first few people showed off their wheel spins and donuts, revving engines mixing with whoops and yells from the spectators. Most were dressed in black like you. A handful of people came up to chat with the boys, with ‘haven’t seen you in a while’-s to Taehyung and offers of bets for Hoseok. Keeping your head well down, you just enjoyed your food, silently taking in the new environment.

The night had cleared up, the asphalt still shining from the earlier drizzle, but the puddles now lay still as glass.

Plenty of people had bottles in their hands, sitting around on the perimeter walls. In the opposite corner, those with hidden faces crowded together, almost hiding the exchange in their hands. Others sat on their bonnets, proudly talking to the interested huddle gathered around them.

“Right, I’m gonna get warmed up,” Hoseok dropped down from the wall and departed with one last wave to your well wishes.

As Hoseok pulled his car out of its spot, more followed. Rolling down his window, he rested his arm casually against the side as he guided his car round, revving here and there to elicit hollers from the crowd.

Laughing in the driver’s seat, he hit the gas, putting on a spurt of speed and skidding round in a perfect one-eighty. A cloud was thrown up by his back tyres, glittering as the droplets fell back down.

By now, you had finished eating and were anticipating some action. The buzz among the spectators grew more as each driver messed about in the parking lot, until at last they were filing out, lining the empty road along an imaginary starting line.

“Can we go closer?” you asked Taehyung as people gravitated towards the roadside, disturbing your view.

A smile bloomed on his face and he jumped down, ditching his takeaway.

“Sure.”

Weaving in and out of the rabble to reach the front, you stood on your tiptoes to spot Hoseok’s car in the middle of the line. Taehyung stood just behind you, already speaking to someone. From your left side, a taller girl pushed past you, striding right up to the curb.

In a ripple, the pack quietened. The girl raised her hand – was that a gun? – and a bang sounded, drowned out instantaneously by the squealing of tyres and growling of engines. Within seconds, the cars had sped out of sight.

“How long is the race?” you turned to Taehyung, whose acquaintance had walked away again.

“That depends how fast Hoseok decides to go,” he murmured back, perching on the wall behind him and kicking his legs out, “they’re on one of the city circuits, main roads, so it’s just about acceleration.”

Nodding in what you hoped was a casual manner, you returned your eyes to the deserted road.

“So he’s good then, Hoseok?”

You hopped up onto the wall beside Taehyung, but it wasn’t his voice that replied.

“Oh, he’s the best.”

Your head snapped around, leaving you face to face with Yoongi. Leaning against the end of the wall, smoke swirling up from a glowing cigarette end in his hand, he looked right at home. How long had he been standing there?

“I heard you were here,” he directed a rare smile past you to Taehyung, “everyone’s wondering if you’re gonna go for a spin.”

“It’s been a long time,” Taehyung chuckled.

“Beck’s next up,” he said, as if that was meant to mean something. Based on Taehyung’s reaction, it probably did.

Shaking his head, he laughed, then bit down on his lip, still smiling, and stared into his lap.

“I’ll think about it, okay?”

“Well you won’t have long,” Yoongi crushed his cigarette against the wall, chucking it carelessly to the ground. Sure enough, the screech of tyres and distant rumble of engines were once again becoming audible.

As Yoongi melted away into the crowd again, the sounds grew and you stood up again, craning your neck to see as far down the road as you could. Only seconds later, a pair of headlights blazed around the corner, drawing a line down your vision as the car flew towards you, followed by a tight group of others.

Stepping back, you watched as the first place car whizzed by, blowing your hair back and off your face, the rest piling across the line in a photo-finish a few seconds later.

While the cars slowed, drifting round to return to the car park and the assembled cheering crowd, an elbow nudged your arm.

“Do you fancy a ride?”

Your eyes slid between Taehyung and the cars re-entering the lot, quickly encircled by people.

What the hell were you thinking? Why were you even considering saying yes? This was crazy-

“Okay!”

Taehyung held you in front of him, shielding you as together you cut a path through the excited mass towards the victor of the last race. Hoseok was grinning from ear to ear, arms in the air, high-fiving people and showing off energetic dance moves in exchange for laughter and pats on the back.

Once again, Taehyung clapped his shoulder, this time leaning in to make his request. Hanging back, you were invisible in the crowd, your face obscured.

“Hey, everyone!” Hoseok shouted, causing a hush, “Taehyungie’s gonna do the next one!”

Cheers and excited applause erupted as Hoseok lifted Tae’s hand in the air. The older boy jumped around while Taehyung laughed, and before long the other drivers were back in their cars. Returning to the roadside, the crowd left you behind.

“Hop in,” Taehyung told you, making his way to the driver’s side.

Though not top-end, Hoseok’s car was not inexpensive. You slid into the leather seat and buckled up, Tae doing the same before gripping the wheel and getting it moving, out and onto the road.

“So where are we going?” you eyed the rabble from your window as you passed them, low rumble of the engine almost teasing given what was to come.

“Beck,” Taehyung replied, pulling into position, one hand staying loosely on the wheel, “it’s what we call one of the courses round the back alleys down by Beck square, and it’s sort of my speciality.”

You nodded, eyes falling back onto the wide open road in front of you. A few cars over, you saw the girl from before standing on the curb.

“You ready?”

A deep breath in.

“Yeah,” you smiled.

Bang.

Outside, the crowd blurred and disappeared, lights whipping past your window as you were forced back in your seat with the sudden speed.

Other cars encroached either side, penning you in but Taehyung kept his eyes ahead, locking the wheel all the way right to take you barrelling into a smaller road, with only one car ahead of you. At the back windscreen, purple headlights were bearing down on you, so close it was like a demon staring into the car.

Weaving, left, right, your car thundered after the red one ahead of you, but the gap only increased.

Snarling behind you, engine nearly as loud as your own, your main pursuer was on top of you. As you spilled out onto a wider road, it was gaining, crawling up your side.

With a glint in his eye, Taehyung took one look at the competitor, one glance to where the red car was turning the next corner some way ahead, and pulled the wheel.

Staring straight ahead, wheel at arm’s length, Taehyung pushed the car, the roaring engine riding a deafening crescendo as you powered ahead through the deserted alley he had taken you down. You winced as he rapidly squeezed past some industrial bins lining the wall, only grazing one with slight jolt – then it was a clear road to the growing exit.

Your car fired from the shortcut like a cannonball, Taehyung wrestling the wheel to bring the back tyres under control as you turned right, finding yourselves neck-and-neck with the red car from earlier.

Next, a drawn-out corner, and that was all Taehyung needed to pull away, expertly drifting around before flattening his foot to the ground, plunging into the darkest alley yet, lit only by your headlamps. But once you emerged, the wider road was back, shop signs and streetlights blurring outside.

Taking a glance behind, the red car was nowhere to be seen.

A laugh bubbled up from your throat as you fell back in your seat, exhilarated. And then there was the crowd, watching and waiting by the parking lot – you had won!

“Fuck me,” you breathed as Taehyung relaxed beside you, casually braking into a drift to turn around.

A hearty laugh returned from him as he pulled into the car park, soon getting swarmed. Exiting the car, you were both engulfed in the clamouring mass, though you managed to slip away to the midst of it. Everyone was the most interested in Taehyung.

At last, most had dispersed and only Hoseok and Yoongi were left congratulating Taehyung with hugs.

“Fun, right?” Hoseok smiled at you, inviting you into their conversation.

“Yeah.” Breathless as if you had just run the course, you laughed with them.

“Good job, you haven’t lost your touch,” Yoongi affirmed again as Hoseok left you to drive again.

By the sounds of it, the next race was a longer one. Bets had been made and you all held your breath as the cars lined up again. The starting gun did nothing to help your heart calm down after the adrenaline rush of Taehyung’s race, but you weren’t complaining. His face wore a similar joy to yours, the two of you happily sitting back after Yoongi left and laughing about the thrill of his driving.

“I dunno if I would have got away so well on the corner if Hoseok’s car wasn’t so good though-“

“Hey! Don’t downplay it, your driving was insane!”

“Maybe it was insane,” he looked down, bashful, but soon smiled back and shook his finger at you, “so don’t try this at home!”

But your laughter at his joke was interrupted.

Sailing over the buildings came the high-pitched wail of a siren. The group quietened. Listening. Perhaps it was unrelated?

A couple of people walked into the road, looking around to see if the vehicle was coming your way. It was definitely getting too close for comfort.

Taehyung stood, hand wrapping round your upper arm and lightly pulling you away from the front of the crowd, though both of you still stared at the road, hoping the sound would shrink again, pass you by.

Blue flashed against the rain-slick road, illuminating dark windows at the end of the street.

Bad luck.

“Run!”

Those who were standing in the road took off across it, away from the car park, while some scattered back to where they came from. The few cars left standing in the parking lot were starting up, leaving by the alleys. And in the middle of the crowd, you and Taehyung started running.

In seconds the parking lot had emptied, and now you were alone with Taehyung as other members of the party vaulted walls away from the sirens and shouting police officers, the slamming of car doors as they gave chase.

Air rushed in and out of your lungs as your feet pounded after Taehyung, going as fast as you could but still falling behind. Dark buildings either side of you were painted in blue as light fell down the alleyway from the cars that had scattered you. Up ahead, Taehyung rounded a corner, but it was lost in darkness and you weren’t sure which one he had gone down.

You didn’t stop running.

“Stop there! Police!”

A woman yelled from the other end of the street, making you push yourself harder.

Just then, Taehyung skidded back around the corner you had just reached and grabbed your hand before you could think, and now he was pulling you away, taking turn after turn through dark streets you had never seen before. Stumbling after him, you clutched his hand, your lifeline.

You must have lost them by now. No blue lights could be seen, no sirens or shouts heard, no other footsteps but your own.

You hoped you had lost them by now. Your heart was beating out of your chest and your head spun, lungs failing to cooperate, evicting air in heavy bursts, taking it in too slow. In your side, the pain couldn’t be masked by the painkiller anymore, pinching mercilessly with every step.

You had to slow down.

Legs failing you, you finally gave in to stopping.

The sudden tug and then loss of your hand in his made Taehyung turn around, finding you doubled over, panting and pale in the face. Eyes scanning the street beyond you for danger, he moved forwards, hands gripping your arms.

“Hey, Y/N, can you keep going?”

Only your hyperventilating answered him.

“Y/N? Can you hear me?”

Trying to pull you up to look at him, he was only met with your body going heavier in his arms, forcing him to scramble to wrap his arms around your back as you went limp.

Cursing, he lowered you to the ground but didn’t let go. Not taking his eyes off your face, he caught the moment your eyes opened again once you were leant against the wall.

A short breath escaped him, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“Y/N? Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you managed, breathing more even now, “my side…”

“It’s alright, you can rest for a bit,” he assured you, finally releasing you and sitting back on his heels.

One more check up and down the alley.

“Were we seriously just running from police?” you laughed slightly, bringing his attention back to you.

“First time for everything,” he mused, sitting down beside you.

“I guess,” you chuckled, still a little breathless, “so is the racing over?”

“For tonight. It gets busted occasionally, so when the others get back and see everyone’s gone they’ll know what happened.”

“Is Hoseok going to get arrested?”

“Shouldn’t do. He’s had plenty of practice evading cops.”

Nodding, your eyes returned to the ground. It was easy to forget how much experience Taehyung and the other bangtan boys had in all this; you were just here for the ride.

“You had your painkiller, right?” Taehyung broke the brief silence.

“Yeah, I did,” you quickly confirmed, “and I feel better now, I just, I dunno what happened…”

“And your iron pill?”

“Hmm? Oh, the red ones… no, I-I don’t think so.”

He clicked his tongue.

“That’ll be it then. You’re taking one as soon as we get home.”

Despite feeling a little like you were being scolded, you smiled, about to respond when a scuffle from the end of the street made you both turn your heads.

As you watched the dimly lit space, a silhouette ran past in a blur, followed by a slower figure, wearing an unmistakeable bulky police vest. They jogged past the opening to your street, but soon their outline reappeared, empty handed.

Breath catching in your throat, you went obligingly with Taehyung as he stood silently, his arm guiding you behind him without taking his eyes off the cop. As quickly as you dared, you both retreated, wincing at each slight crunch beneath your feet. In the silence, the crackling of a police radio, though incomprehensible, was clearly heard, and the officer mumbled back into it.

Spying an opening to hide you from view, you gathered this was your target. Holding your breath, you approached it, swinging around the corner at the first opportunity with only one glance back.

One glance that showed the cop’s head turning towards you.

This alley was much smaller than the other, and you found yourself facing Taehyung in much the same way you had in his hallway when you first came barging into his life. Searching his face, you wondered if he had seen what you did just now.

“Tae-“

His lips formed around a shushing sound that barely left his mouth, and in one small step, he was up against you, a finger steady on your lips to silence you. All you could do was hold your tongue and stare as he looked past you, tentatively dipping his head out of your hiding spot, never lowering his finger.

“They’re gone,” he spoke, voice still impossibly low.

Swallowing, you removed your eyes from his face, glancing up the alley you were now on. It was a dead end, home only to a large dumpster surrounded by smashed glass and needles. You couldn’t leave this way, which would explain why you needed to wait here, in case the cop was still close by.

What it didn’t explain was why Taehyung was still so close to you.

Although his hand had now lowered, you could feel his body heat from this proximity. The zip of his undone jacket brushed against the front of your hoodie.

Your tongue ran across your lips. Eyes finally diverted from the potential dangers outside, Taehyung was now looking at you.

“Uh…” you cleared your throat, regretting opening your mouth. You had no idea what you had planned to say.

Luckily, you were startled from the situation as a chiming ringtone broke through the moment.

Scrambling to scoop his phone from his pocket and answer it, Taehyung stumbled back, eyeing the alleyway outside in a panic. Thankfully, no one had heard. Better get moving.

“Hello?”

Not even getting a look at the caller in his rush to pick it up, Jungkook’s voice answering him was a relief.

Mindlessly grabbing your hand in his, Taehyung started walking with you beside him as he listened to the younger member. As you passed through the end of the street, he took a look both ways before leading you the opposite way to that the police officer had taken.

Holding Kim Taehyung’s hand was something you had never seen coming. But here you were.

You didn’t complain though. His grip was firm, comfortable, and walking with him this way felt… normal. How that was even possible, you didn’t know, and you blamed it on your lingering light-headedness – of course you would want to feel grounded.

But somehow, far away from all you knew in backstreets you had never seen before, after a very illegal night, with a gang member talking in serious tones over the phone next to you, you felt perfectly at home.

“Cheers, Kook. Night.”

Taehyung shut off the call, tucking his phone back into his pocket. By now you had reached more well-lit roads that you imagined would be busy by day. Now, of course, you were the only ones here. God knew what time it was.

The only light brighter than the streetlamps was the interior of a 24-hour convenience store, a good indication that it was by no means a civilised hour. Still without letting your hand go, Taehyung led you inside.

Standing in front of the wall of fizzy drinks, he ordered you to pick one before swiping a packet of crisps and a chocolate bar. The teenage cashier didn’t look you in the eye once as he rung you up, and then you were on your way. Only now did Taehyung drop your hand, passing you the chocolate with a command to get your sugar up and himself tearing into the crisps.

When you had worked through the first row, he spoke up.

“Jungkook was on the phone about your dad.”

“O-oh,” you stuttered, having just put another square in your mouth.

“Well he’s okay. He hasn’t been hurt, but as you know, Shinhyuk’s forced him to hand over your apartment for the gang to use. He’s forcing him to work for him, full-time, with the threat of harm to you if he doesn’t… Apparently he was accused of stealing drugs from a deal and that warrants all this – though it’s probably baseless. Shinhyuk had his eyes on your place already.”

You watched your feet as you listened. It had been easy to put your dad out of your mind for the sake of your sanity, the not knowing taking you round in circles, but hearing that he was still alive took a weight from you.

“I’m sorry,” Taehyung said, greeted with your silence, “we’re fighting against Shinhyuk, and we’ll try to help him. Try not to worry about him losing his job, I mean-“

“Worry?” you looked up at him, “He’s alive! There’s nothing to be sorry for! Can you thank Jungkook for finding this out?”

A small, relieved smile crossed Taehyung’s face.

“Course I can,” he grinned, then held out your Fanta, “now don’t forget about your sugar.”

After this, the walk home was surprisingly short. Given how lost you were, you had thought you were half the city away, but in next to no time you turned onto recognisable streets. Strolling through the dark eating sugary snacks, it felt as if you were coming home from the movies, or any venture more innocent than your night of racing.

As the pair of you were climbing Tae’s front steps, he offered to make tea to warm up. Needless to say, you were fully on board with the idea.

He set to work, the kitchen lit dimly by lights tucked underneath the cupboards.

However, leaning against the wall waiting for the water to boil, you began to feel just how tired you were, both physically and mentally. But you could sleep later: you didn’t want the night to end yet. Deciding on a middle ground, you gave in to sliding down the wall, seating yourself on the floor. Not a move you would have chosen at your most alert moments, but it couldn’t be helped.

At your downwards movement, Taehyung spun around, dropping the teaspoon with a clatter.

But then he saw you staring back at him in bewilderment, and his eyes closed as he huffed in equal parts relief and frustration.

“God, I thought you were passing out again,” he grumbled.

Soon the bag of red pills landed in front of you on the tile. Sheepishly smiling, you gulped one down, and then a mug of tea filled its space.

“Oh, we don’t have to stay here,” you frowned at Tae as he sat down opposite you on the kitchen floor, leaning his back against the cupboards as he cradled his tea.

“Nah, it’s a unique perspective,” he said, “I’ve never sat here before and it’s my house.”

“Yeah, I’m sure your kitchen looks super different from down here,” a smile threatened to break your baffled frown, though you did pick up your mug, breathing in the inviting steam rising from it.

“So was tonight okay?” Taehyung smiled over his mug, eyes creasing a little as they watched for your answer.

“Mmm, yeah,” you swallowed your first sip of tea, “I’ve never… done anything like that before. But I thought it was really exciting! Hoseok is so nice too, letting you drive his car.”

Tae let out a short laugh, eyes disappearing for a moment.

“I practically learnt to drive in Hobi’s cars.”

“Wait, cars? As in, cars, plural?”

“Yeah,” his wide grin stayed on his face, both rows of his teeth visible in the low light, “tonight was just small races, he didn’t get out the big guns. You should see his Bugatti.”

Your eyes bulged from your head.

“I’m not even going to ask where he got the money for that,” you mumbled, still in awe.

“He didn’t,” Taehyung smirked. Rolling your eyes, you breathed a laugh, soon diving back into your tea.

“Was it alright with Yoongi there?” he asked next. His eyes were wider now, curious, smile dimming, “I know he hasn’t exactly been…”

“No, it was fine,” you assured, “I get that he doesn’t like me, but he seems to tolerate me now, so I won’t push him.”

“He did sort of beat you up before, though,” Tae pointed out.

“I nearly beat him up back!” you joked, admittedly motivated by genuine defensiveness, “I could have handed his ass to him any time I pleased, but I chose to give you the satisfaction of saving me instead.”

Taehyung responded by snorting into his tea.

“You are so rude,” you tipped your foot over to playfully kick his thigh as you both laughed.

“Honestly, I’m glad you’re not too bothered by Yoongi,” Taehyung said once the laughter had passed, though his smile still lingered, “he looks so tough, but he’s a massive softie really.”

You simply raised your eyebrows.

“You’ll see,” he smirked.

“I’ll wait,” you scoffed, “although I don’t find him scary exactly… he sort of reminds me of that evil magician from Archie-wizz- did you watch that?”

“Yes! I used to watch that every day after school!”

“Yeah, so you know the one I’m on about, right? He was always lurking around corners, like, the camera would turn around and there he was, like he’d been there the whole time. That’s Yoongi!”

Tae barked a disbelieving laugh.

“You mean Count E. Vil? Yoongi would flip shit if he heard you compared him to a cartoon.”

“Count E. Vil? That was his name?”

“Yeah, and every time he appeared, Archie was like ‘didn’t see ya there!’”

“Yeah, yeah it is that one,” you laughed at the memory, “was that seriously his name? I must have forgotten.”

“You know, the more I think about, the more I can see it,” Taehyung was laughing too, “you just turn around and he’s like – bam – looking all cool…”

Taehyung schooled his face into a death stare just like Yoongi’s to demonstrate, making you crack up even more. He didn’t last long before the act broke down, laughter creeping into his poker mouth and now the both of you were bent over your knees with tears in your eyes, wheezing with the kind of infectious laughter that is most at home after lights out at a sleepover.

“Not a word of this to Yoongi, understand,” Tae joked when you had both calmed down, voice worn out from the laughing fit.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Comfortable silence warmed the room for a moment as you both drank more tea. Odd though your little scene was, with you both sat on the floor, legs outstretched in the middle, it was cosy. The glow of fading LEDs that barely lit your faces separated you from the darkness of the outside. In all the world, it felt as though you two were the only ones, safe in your unorthodox sanctuary.

“How…”

You spoke before you had figured out how to phrase your question, but now Taehyung had lifted his eyes back to you.

“How did you… Who started, I mean, with bangtan…”

“How did we get together?”

You gave a small nod.

“Some of us go way back,” he set his tea down, “I mean, I went to high school with Jimin. And Yoongi’s from the same city as me, and we used to know each other when we were tiny. His family was connected to Namjoon’s, and that’s where it started – their families started the whole crime thing, and they started training together.

“We all sort of fell together, I think Jin’s family needed help from Namjoon’s and he stayed on; Jungkook knew Jimin from childhood, and he showed up asking for help when we had already started; Jin found Hoseok at college. I started, and Jimin came along too, because Yoongi wanted me. We had been out of touch for years, but I still knew who he was.”

“Wow,” you breathed.

“It’s sort of complicated, I know,” he directed a shy smile at his cup.

“Well, that’s life,” you said quietly, “but you guys work so well together. I guess you got lucky.”

Taehyung’s nod was solemn.

“Yeah. But it’s more than just working – they’re my brothers now.”

Tilting your head as you listened, you believed him.

“You guys seem to understand each other so well.”

“We do – we always have each other’s backs, you know? I wouldn’t stick around in this for just anyone.”

“By ‘this’, do you mean…” you rested your chin on your knees, still listening intently.

“Everything we’re known for: drugs, fights, racing… I never intended to get into all that. I try to be careful, and moral, about it, we all do. But I wouldn’t have done it for anyone else.”

“Do you think you’ll stay in a gang forever?”

By now you were both talking in hushed tones as if you were huddled under blankets.

“No, I don’t think so,” he pondered, “I’m not sure what I want to be, though.”

“How about your art?” you smiled, “or fashion. Those books you got me were really interesting. Or your music? You’re a good singer-“

Cutting yourself off, your eyes widened. Taehyung had been nodding along, considering your options, but now he stared straight back at you.

“You heard me singing?”

“U-uh, yeah, I did,” you stammered, heat glowing in your cheeks, “I was half asleep, but I thought you were so good.”

“Thanks,” Tae’s voice was lower in pitch now, and he swallowed and looked down, his dark hair obscuring most of his face so he almost melted into the darkness. He cleared his throat, “I’ve never sung to anyone else before.”

“Well, you didn’t exactly sing to me,” you spoke softly, reaching a hand to his knee, “but it was amazing anyway. I mean it.”

You were glad to see a genuine smile blooming on his face as he looked back up again.

“Anyway,” he shook his head, “I’m not gonna leave the boys. Even when I’m not in a gang, they’ll always be my family. I’m not letting that go.”

“I understand.”

You really did. Your only family was across the city, torn from you and forced to work for Shinhyuk.

Hesitantly, you drew your hand back from his knee.

Draining the last dregs of his cold tea, Taehyung let the silence settle.

“I miss college,” you eventually confess into the quiet room, “I hope I get to go back.”

“Even Professor Han’s class?” Tae’s low voice joked.

“Oh, I don’t think I miss it that much,” you smiled, though it was overtaken by a sigh.

“You’ll go back,” came the reassurance.

A pause.

“We… we’re hoping we can beat Shinhyuk in this whole thing. We’re sort of working on a plan.”

Instantly intrigued, you stared expectantly across the kitchen at Taehyung, who heaved a sigh and began to explain.

“Shinhyuk has his weaknesses, and thanks to Jungkook we’ve found the worst. He works differently to us. He doesn’t care for anyone in his gang, and they don’t care for each other. Like your dad, he keeps most of them there with blackmail, so we’ve been trying to pick people off. If we can infiltrate well enough, guarantee his members a safe escape from the gang, or find some blackmail of our own to get them, we should be able to weaken him and catch him off-guard when his safety net isn’t there to catch him anymore…”

“Is it going to work?” you breathed into the still air.

Taehyung pursed his lips. You were very conscious of your breathing as you waited for an answer. In. Out.

“It has to.”

I will love you forever if you reblog! Comment or message me to be added to the taglist!

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strayinvelvet · 3 years

Text

just another date, i guess

going on a blind date is something you completely hated but your cute date makes you wanna give it a shot

pairing: felix x reader

genre: fluff, blind date au

wc: 1.9k

warnings: none

a/n: this piece is for @dnceracha as part of the @districtninewriters winter fic exchange!! ta-daa i am your winter fic exchange buddy!! i am very sorry for being late :( i didn’t wanna give a half-assed fic. i hope you like this!

You could call yourself an independent woman who needs no man by her side.

You managed to survive from birth up to date with no romance and you are not one bit regretful. Yet somehow, your friends find it ridiculous that you still don’t have someone you can call yours.

That is how you found yourself sitting in a nice restaurant you never imagined you would visit, waiting for your supposedly “nice date”. It’s only been ten minutes actually but at least for you, this is not a good first date impression.

Truth is you haven’t even met this guy in person. Logically speaking, it is only right for you to ditch this scene for your safety and just prepare for the holiday celebration. However, your friends managed to throw in their best persuasion skills to force you to meet this man in hopes of getting you a date before the holidays because according to their belief, it is a crime to not spend the holidays with a lover (the way you mentally rolled your eyes at that).

Well, you can’t ignore the fact that they probably mean well and are just looking out for you. You knew they were bound to do this sooner or later, counting the many times you have made them worried due to your habit of relying on yourself more than others. So, you said yes. Of course, you used this as an excuse that this will be your christmas gift to them which they said yes to as long as you meet this guy. Hitting two birds with one stone. You’ll get them to shut up about your non-existing dating life and you will not have to worry about their presents.

Now, the only thing you are worrying about is your date. Changbin, the man behind all this, probably won’t prank, you thought. But as more minutes pass by, you’re starting to think he is actually pranking you or your date ditched you. You don’t know what’s worse. You were about to message Changbin for a failed blind date when a man stood in front of you, hair disheveled while catching his breath.

“Are you perhaps y/n? Changbin’s friend?” Oh, he must be the guy.

“Yes and are you..?”

“Felix, yeah nice to meet you. I am really sorry for being late but it was really traffic and I ran into a couple who knocked me down and squashed my flowers so yeah…,” he trailed off as he held out his right hand to show you the small bouquet of flattened flowers.

He looked really worried and judging from the way he was talking, he ran all the way from the parking lot to the restaurant. You couldn’t say you weren’t touched by his cute actions. What an adorable boy and an adorable face at that. He looks apologetic enough. Suppose you could forgive the bad first impression?

“Hey, it’s ok. Why don’t you sit down first? Should I order now?” you smiled probably because of his effort to explain or because he’s adorable. When you noticed he was about to put the flowers away, you immediately asked him why. “I will just buy you another one. It’s really not a sight,” he smiled apologetically once again. Wow, ain’t he the most adorable guy you’ve ever met but you could really do with ones he have right now.

“It’s perfect. I’d be glad to receive it,” you returned his smile to assure him that you find no problem with the half destroyed roses. It’s adorable and realistic, nonetheless. “Well if you really want it,” he gave you the roses and you accepted with a kind smile and a thank you. Few moments later, the waiter arrived asking for your orders.

It wasn’t until the food arrived at your table did you finally realize how ridiculous Changbin is for setting you up in an expensive restaurant. The prices are no joke. You’ve expected this but still, you didn’t expect a mini bowl of soup that tastes like leaves with a sprinkle of meat and salt to cost this much. To think that this is the cheapest in their menu, sigh. You’re a broke college student afterall and like hell are you gonna pay for a full course meal.

Just pretend you’re on a diet and drink lots of water. That would be enough.

“So you’re also a business major?” you asked as an attempt to distract yourself from the disappointing food in front of you.

“Yeah. Changbin told me you’re a communications major. How is it?” he asked back. He doesn’t look like he has any problems with his food. Rich people have weird tastes, you think.

“Yeah, it’s not honestly not much. How about yours?” you answered, trying to keep the conversation going.

The conversation went as basic as possible. The typical where do you live, what are you majoring in, what do you plan after you graduate and the likes. It ended as soon as you both finished your food, which was quite fast due to the unexpected small serving for the huge price. Like any other date, this couldn’t end without the who-will-pay debate. In the end, you managed to split the bill in half which unknowingly for you, is a win-win for Felix as well.

“Thank you for the night, Felix I had fun,” you said as he held the door for you as you exit the building. “No worries! I had fun as well. Ah, you live in that area right? Since I live there too, I’ll give you a ride!”

Now that is an offer you can’t decline. A free ride after spending that much. Why not? “Sure. Thank you,” you said trying to sound as gleeful as possible, trying to hide the still lingering disappointment from the food you just had.

The ride towards your apartment was quiet except for the short conversations that were thrown every now and then. It was, well, awkward. You couldn’t blame him though. He has a nice personality and all that, it was just the first impression kinda had a strong impact on you. Especially that the date was in a venue you definitely wouldn’t pick if you were just asked.

“Thank you for the ride,” you said as you hopped off the car. Felix watches you finally get off. “It’s nothing really. I hope to see you soon,” he said with a hopeful look.

“Me too,” you smiled for the last time before closing the door and entering your apartment complex. Felix waited for you to be completely inside before going off.

Both of you sincerely wish you could meet again. Felix was just mesmerized by the way you tell your stories and you were mesmerized by his adorable clumsiness. But the date left a too strong impression to make a plan anytime soon. Maybe next time when the earlier mess have turned into a fading memory.

Both of you didn’t want it to be but you guessed, it was just another date again.

Later that night, your stomach was rumbling. Ah, it was finally acting up after giving it only one soup. Maybe one pack of ramen wouldn’t hurt? It’s vacation anyway so no one will see your bloated face next morning. You hastily got up, making you a bit dizzy, and fished for your wallet before running to the convenience store.

The moment you entered, your plan was set. Ramen and a serving of kimchi. Once you located the target, you immediately paid for it before cooking the cup ramen. You can already smell the spicy glory and it only made you more than hungrier. The soup was still hot yet you couldn’t care less. You dived for it like it was your last meal. Man did that restaurant really starve you.

In the midst of your enjoyment, a deep voice interrupted you. “Hey, let’s share your kimchi. I’ll share my potatoes,” he said and you were confused. Wow. People are too courageous these days to ask a stranger to share food.

You looked up at the man with your mouth full of noodles only to choke on them when you realize that the man in front of you is the same man you just had a date with. His eyes also widened at the sight of you but he recovered faster upon the realization that you are choking. He immediately patted your back and gave you some water which you accepted and drank. When the lump subsided, you managed to look at him again and ask, “Felix?”

“y/n?”

“Why are you here?” you asked dumbfounded.

“I told you I live in this area too.”

“Yeah but why are you here in the convenience store at this time of the night.”

“I … was… hungry…” he paused, “I am not insinuating anything, I was just really hungry,” he was hesitant to say it due to the fear that you might think the date was bad. But truthfully, you were the same.

“No it’s okay I was hungry too,” you also contemplated before continuing but it is best to be honest now that you met again, very soon than what you expected, “to be honest, I am not a fan of that restaurant.”

Felix, who unconsciously breathed a sigh of relief looked at you with twinkling eyes, “you know what? Same! I had to ask Changbin why on earth did he set us up in that place when it’s way too expensive.”

You giggled at his cuteness, “he was the only one who could afford it,” you rolled your eyes at Changbin like he was with the two of you at that moment. It was Felix’s turn to giggle, “Right? Maybe we should have asked him to pay for our food.” With that, you both laughed sincerely like you were given a chance to let your run loose and be carefree.

When your laughs died down, you cleared your throat softly and asked him, “so, do you want some kimchi?”

He smiled a large on slid his pack of instant crispy potatoes to your side, "sure thing, lady. And here's my potatoes," he wriggle his eyebrows.

"Can't believe you asked a stranger to share food," you went back to your ramen to blow on it before continuing your snack. "I was desperate, okay? I was really hungry so I just reached for whatever I could find but then I saw your kimchi and I wanted one too but my money is not enough," he replied without looking at you, focusing on his own food.

You noticed, for the second time, his habit of overexplaining things and, for the second time, you found it extremely adorable. You reached for one of his potatoes using your chopsticks and chomped on it. "Well, your potatoes don't taste too bad."

"That's why I said let's share not let's exchange."

Laughter again erupted from your mouths and you finally felt it. A conversation that is free flowing. One that is not forced or made just to lessen the awkwardness and the stiff air around. There wasn't even a stiff air around this time. It was just the two of you, your instant noodles and your amusement of each other.

Felix felt it too, how this night felt more of a date than the earlier dinner. There were no flowers, fancy plates and dresses. It was a night (midnight) that does not require masking to satisfy the other. He was in his pajamas and you were in your hoodie. How much more raw could it get?

Finally, both of you felt like this time, it was a proper date.

It was past two in the morning when you finally got home. Time seems to fly during your unexpected midnight snack with Felix. You didn't mind spending more time with Felix but he insisted that all the rendezvous today must have made you exhausted. And you agreed. It was only now when you finally felt your aching calf from the heels earlier that evening and your heavy eyelids. You were more than thankful that Felix was considerate enough to walk you home. When you thought you were about to fall asleep, a notification rang your phone.

Felix (changbin friend): See you tomorrow, maybe?

Y/n: See you tomorrow. :)

Guess it wasn’t just another date after all.

#districtninewriters #inkidz #stray kids #stray kids au #lee felix #stray kids x reader #skz au #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenario #felix x you #felix x reader #i got some inspo from the kdrama cheese in the trap

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lovelyirony · 4 years

Note

Fic title meme : pulvis et umbra sumus (We Are Dust And Shadows)

On every single document, including the ones that show what actually happened to Howard and Maria Stark, Tony Stark is listed as dead among them.

He is not.

But in not calling in the accident on the abandoned road, Tony managed to find someone else to take his place and escaped.

Tony Stark is dead. A whole family funeral and everything. Obadiah pretends to cry. Tony is at the funeral with shitty dye in his hair and sunglasses that he wouldn’t be caught dead wearing. Ha.

The funeral is closed casket. All their faces are rumored to be impossible to fix with make-up.

He makes new documents. Anthony Jarvis, from Boston. Airtight background. Likes puzzles. Scored damn high on the SAT, but not the perfect score.

(Killed him to answer some of those questions wrong, seriously.)

Anthony Jarvis goes to MIT and requests a single room. He gets one for one semester, and then the room next to his burns and destroys his as well. So he gets moved to Jim Rhodes’.

Jim becomes Rhodey, and he is the first friend of Anthony Jarvis, and nicknames him Tony.

He grins at that.

There are plenty of times that Tony wants to tell him. The thing about secrets is that they need to be shared. No one really wants a secret, nor do they want to keep it. But he keeps his mouth shut and asks if he wants to go for Thai food.

“This is the third time this week.”

“Not my fault it’s good! I’ll pay...”

“Sign me up.”

Tony and Rhodey gets Thai food. It’s good.

Rhodey lets him in on a secret that Tony had actually known about since his room assignment.

(You remember that guy’s room that caught on fire? Yeah, he swore that his microwave hadn’t been on, and nothing had been plugged in. He was right. But Tony needed an accident.)

In other circumstances, Rhodey would have ignored the offer that he had. He had had his heart set on Air Force. But there was something about the man who talked to him.

“It’s a place called Strategic-Homeland-something I can’t remember,” Rhodey says. “Point is, they’re a big deal and kind of shady, but not in the government shady kind of way. The only thing I can find out about them is that they’re an international company who need engineers, pilots, and basically anyone like you and me. I don’t know how I feel about it.”

Tony nods.

“You want me in on this?”

“I mean, you did tell me a couple of weeks ago that you weren’t sure what you wanted to do after graduation.”

(It was two weeks, three days, and fourteen hours ago. Not like he was counting.)

“...thanks. I’ll check it out with you.”

Anthony Jarvis shows up in a nice suit, stupid sunglasses, and impresses the higher-ups by diagnosing a problem with the engine that others had previously marked as “impossible.”

He’s hired on the spot, same as Rhodey.

Tony Jarvis gets his own keycard, finds an apartment in New York that’s within at least biking distance, and gets started on inventing some cute little toys for the spies in Research and Development.

He brings the laser-lipstick to life, poison-drop-earrings, spyglasses that actually work and have HD, and briefcases that use mirroring technology to change color.

“How did you do this?” Rhodey asks, eyes wide. “I swear this is unreal.”

“Aw,” Tony says. “You sap. I got some inspiration from some old comic book ads. I think I’m gonna try a ring decoder next, what do you think?”

“Almost makes me want to go on missions instead of flying them.”

Tony Jarvis is known for working odd yet long hours. He comes up with results. And he keeps his head down and minds his own business.

This is all to find out exactly who killed his parents. As much as his and Howard’s relationship was...interesting, he still wanted to know.

His desire to know the truth leads to somewhere he hadn’t thought was possible: Hydra.

His hands freeze as he looks at the paper file with thick, black lines all over. The information there was sparse. Howard, Maria, and Anthony Stark all died. It was ruled:

And there’s nothing there.

It wasn’t an accident. Sure he knew that, but there was something far more sinister at play. Why wasn’t it an accident?

He gets Alexander Pierce in his apartment with a man in the corner. His arm gleams in what little light from the lamps outside give off.

“Why are you searching for the Stark files?” He asks.

“Why didn’t you just schedule a meeting? I’m available tomorrow at three,” Tony jokes. “Who’s your friend here?”

“Someone you wouldn’t want to shake hands with,” Pierce answers. “You need to stop looking into this before you find yourself in a situation you don’t want to be in.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Accidents will happen,” Pierce says. He gets up from the table, to the counter. Gets out a glass. And makes himself water. He smiles as he looks to the man in the corner. “Do you want any water, Winter Soldier?”

Winter Soldier remains impassive.

Tony stills.

“So, the legends are true. And Hydra is still around.”

“And if you aren’t careful, you won’t be,” Pierce says. “Don’t bring any of this up. Or this won’t be the last time you see Winter Soldier. I know your moves, Jarvis. Don’t think you can surprise me.”

They exit the apartment. Tony realizes that Pierce took his glass.

And he laughs.

Because this? Not according to plan, but god he’s gonna have fun with it.

It starts with telling Rhodey who he actually is.

It does not go as planned.

“So let me get this straight. I’ve known you for years and you just. Never told me?” Rhodey asks. “Why not?”

“To be completely fair, no one knows besides a man in Wisconsin, and he’s from Wisconsin,” Tony says. “Also I was drunk. Drunk me is a terrible person who would sell me for a buffalo nickel.”

“I’m still mad, even if that’s funny,” Rhodey says, trying not to smile. “So. Why tell me now? I’m assuming you need something.”

“I would like your help,” Tony says. “It is not required but I am toppling a secret organization living in SHIELD and I think if I get your help, I will most likely not get fired by the end of this. Fury likes you, he hates me.”

“False, he mildly tolerates you. You’ll be fine. Probably. Who else should we get to help?”

Tony had originally planned for no one.

But then there was Pepper Potts.

She had been deemed by the media as “crazy” for accusing Obadiah Stane, longtime-CEO of Stark Industries, as ordering a hit out on the Stark family.

She had been booted from the company--anticipated--and then Hydra had ordered a hit on her.

Slightly unexpected.

Point is, Rhodey brings her into the apartment and tells Tony casually that the grocery store had run out of his usual hummus brand, was the generic okay?

“That’s like asking if I’m okay with blue pens,” Tony curses. “Also, is that Pepper Potts? Why is she here? Did you run into her at the grocery store?”

“No, as I was coming back. Did you know that she has a hit out on her? Fun times.”

“Oh my god, will someone explain to me what’s going on here?!” Pepper seethes. “I was just trying to get my yogurt without anyone taking a picture of me and some random fucking guy had a knife thrown at me and then this guy took me to your house!”

She then rants for ten minutes about the “questionable design choices going on in this establishment, who honestly thinks shot glasses are a decoration?!”

“Are you done?” Tony asks. “Because if you want to help with a conspiracy plot, you need to be done.”

She is.

Pepper does not get a job with SHIELD. In fact, she mainly just decides to take care of the redecoration in Tony’s apartment.

“You will be paying me for this.”

“Why would I do that? You’re using my money to buy everything. You’re living here rent free for now.”

“Because I’m helping you make better life choices. I also want new shoes.”

What Pepper does is provide very valuable access to Stark Industries: she knows the ins and outs, what employees do and don’t do, and also is very helpful in telling Tony what he needs to do when he takes the company over.

“Who said I was going to take it over?”

“Me,” Pepper says. “Also because I reviewed every single old document and the company was specified to go to next-of-kin. You are. And you’re not dead.”

“My death certificate is literally framed,” Tony says, pointing to his graduation photo that Rhodey took. He had swapped out his official diploma with it as a joke. No one had seen it. He thought it was hilarious.

“Yeah, but they can do DNA testing,” Pepper says. “This is like the twenty-first century Anastasia except this time they don’t find you with metal detectors!”

“I don’t like that you know that story as well as you do,” Rhodey says. “But I’ll leave you a credit card for furniture and groceries. If you get rid of my drinks in the fridge I’m literally never forgiving you.”

“Noted, and I don’t need forgiveness,” Pepper says. “But they’ll stay there.”

So begins the plot.

Pierce doesn’t know three things, which is a lot of things not to know:

1.) Tony Jarvis is not Tony Jarvis.

2.) Rhodey actually likes Tony and most of the time him saying that he would “kill Tony in a variety of ways, starting with sporks and moving forward...” is mostly (mostly) a joke.

3.) Pepper Potts resides in their apartment and is having fun telling Tony she bought new silverware.

“Why did you buy new silverware! It was fine!”

“I recognized all of these forks and knives from restaurants. Why did you steal them from restaurants?”

“They can replace them!”

“Don’t. Anyways now your spoons match and you don’t have the shitty ones from different places. Also I painted the bathroom.”

“My landlord is gonna kill me.”

“I made her cookies and discovered that she likes going to concerts. You’ll be fine.”

(Pepper is a goddess. You can’t convince them otherwise.)

Pierce doesn’t know any of this, but he still holds a key piece of blackmail: Tony Jarvis shouldn’t know about Hydra, and he’ll do anything to make sure that he doesn’t lose his job.

Tony has been recording their conversations for weeks.

(Pierce thinks he doesn’t design things to get around the available technology. Pathetic.)

He also has bugged Pierce as well as his house, and figures out that Winter Soldier is going to be on assignment within the DC area in an effort to kill some higher-up on the foodchain that was SHIELD.

Well.

Tony has always wanted to go and see the cherry blossoms a little more up close.

Pepper, of course, doesn’t like that they left his boots on.

“This couch is new and red,” she says. “Take off his boots!”

“He is unconscious and probably won’t be in the next fifteen minutes,” Rhodey says. “We are not touching him and possibly shortening that fifteen minutes.”

Winter Soldier wakes up to three faces staring at him.

“Mission failed?” he asks, voice robotic.

“Nope, you just got a new one,” says the man on the right. He is wearing a t-shirt. Winter Soldier thinks that in this situation, a t-shirt is not the best option.

(Of course, he’s not supposed to think. But they don’t have to know that.”

“Can you take your shoes off?” says the woman in the middle. “Please. You’re getting germs on the couch.”

He’s confused.

“Who am I killing?”

“No one, yet,” says the man on the left. “Do you know who you are?”

“Winter Soldier.”

“No, like a name? I’m assuming you’ve had a name at some point.”

“Someone has called me Mr. Freeze before.”

The man on the left snorts. Man on the right taps his arm lightly.

“Well, um, okay then. How do you feel about the name...aw shit. I can’t think of a name for you when your mask is on. Can you take the mask off?”

He takes it off. It’s nicer to breathe.

The man in the t-shirt pauses.

“Okay. So your name is Bucky Barnes. Do you know that name?”

Something clicked. But he doesn’t know what.

“Sounds...familiar.”

“Cool! So that’s your name now, do me a favor and don’t google it. I’m Tony, this is Rhodey, and this is Pepper. If you don’t take your shoes off, you’re going to be scared of her.”

Newly-named-Bucky highly doubts that he will be scared of Pepper because she is built like a twig and she is wearing high heels.

(He is wrong about ten minutes later when she forcibly throws a fork at him.)

“Why am I here?” he asks. “Should I be checking back in with Handler Pierce?”

“No,” comes the consensus from everyone else in the room.

“Technically, he thinks you went rogue and went back to Russia. He’s organizing a team to go get you. We hired an actor to play you. It’s been entertaining. He got some plums. Do you like plums?”

“Why is that relevant?”

“It’s vapid and not interesting at all, Tony loves questions like that,” Rhodey says. “Now come on. We need to get you actual shirts. Also some body wash.”

Bucky Barnes learns how to be a person. He stares at himself in the mirror for an hour and smiles slightly when Pepper calls him “vain” and pushes him aside to grab her hairbrush.

He then learns that Hydra is trying to overtake SHIELD and they have a slight window with Pierce out.

This involves two things:

1.) Tony Stark coming back from the dead.

2.) SHIELD panicking that they didn’t know this secret and taking another look at the paperwork, in which case Hydra will be found out.

These are both easier than anticipated. Tony can act like a showman better than anyone, and has been carefully growing a goatee that is eerily reminiscent of his late father’s. Of course he’s had to switch it up.

The media is going crazy. SHIELD as well. They’re scrambling to find paperwork that proves that it happened, and they find that the “accident” was no accident. That Howard hadn’t been working for the “enemy” at the time.

The enemy was in the building, and they had blended in seamlessly.

This all happens on a Wednesday, by the way. Pepper has it marked on the calendar and everything. Rhodey made his coffee.

Bucky is busy slamming people into drywall and listening for any word from Rhodey, who is also slamming people into drywall.

“You know, you’d think we’d get something like a suit of armor for this,” Rhodey pants out, slamming another guy out of his way.

Bucky nods.

“Best I can offer is a grenade.”

“Where in the fuck did you get a grenade?!”

“Supply closet. Second floor. What, you didn’t check?”

“No sorry must’ve missed it--of course I didn’t fucking check the second floor closet!” Rhodey yells.

Bucky says he’s stressed. He should calm himself.

Rhodey chucks a particularly nasty Hydra agent out a window.

(Bucky thinks Rhodey is probably the coolest person he’ll ever meet.)

Tony is fashionably late to the take-down of the century. He’s already foiled a lot of plans, and taken a key-card for Project Insight to work.

He waltzes in and nearly gets hit by a mug.

“So, how’s the party going?” he yells over to Pepper. Pepper is still in her heels. She looks like a goddess still, as usual. It is a Wednesday, after all.

“As fine as it can be,” Pepper says. “We’ve met some resistance. With Pierce gone there’s little infrastructure. You got his plane delayed, correct?”

“Even better. Got it sent to London. Motherfucker is gonna be there for a while,” Tony says. “Also may or may not have said that he was a threat. SHIELD branch there will investigate, find out some questionable things in his file that he will swear up and down were never there.”

“Good,” Pepper says. She launches a stapler at someone’s head. “Do you think we’ll have time to pick up takeout for dinner?”

“Depends on whether or not Deputy Director Hill is Hydra.”

They see Maria Hill pass by in a blur, yelling as she jumps onto a man and sends him crashing down over a railing.

“Lovely, she isn’t!” Pepper cheers. “By the way, I was thinking about redoing our kitchen.”

“‘Our’ kitchen?” Tony says, ducking a bullet and drawing out his personal lipstick-laser, firing it with expert precision. “I told you the living situation was temporary.”

“Oh please, you have an extra room.”

“Which was an office!” Tony tells her.

“Like you can’t have your office at Stark Industries,” Pepper says. “I expect to hear how the reveal went over dinner. Also, please hire me back. I don’t wanna be your interior decorator for forever.”

“Neither do I, you like modern art. Disgusting.”

And so the fighting resumes.

It is done by five-thirty-two, with an official surrender from Pierce.

“Thank god, I already ordered Chinese and they said it’d be here at six,” Rhodey says.

They all sit on the red couch.

Shoes on.

Tony tips four hundred percent.

“So what are we doing tomorrow?” Rhodey asks.

“I am not moving for six hours,” Bucky answers. “Also maybe getting a library card.”

“This is the first thing you want out of the icebox? A library card?” Tony asks, laughing.

Pepper laughs.

“I have errands to run. You can come with me and we’ll swing by.”

“What are the errands?”

“Getting a kitchen mixer and also making sure that my plates match my napkins.”

“A travesty if it doesn’t happen,” Rhodey deadpans. “Pass the lo mein, Tony. You’re hogging it.”

“I had to fight on a Wednesday and run,” Tony says. “Today isn’t cardio day.”

“Literally hate it when you speak,” Rhodey says. “Absolutely abhor your language.”

They go to bed, although it’s more of laying on the floor.

Sure, Tony will have to deal with retaking a business that he knows a bit less about and Pepper will have to be trained (again) and also fight against being made CEO (but she won’t fight much). Rhodey will get a new job with SI because it’s not like Tony will let him work at SHIELD (Rhodey tries, Tony will get him fired at some point). Bucky just...he needs to get a bit more than a library card.

But that’s for tomorrow.

#BUCKLE IN BOYS WE GOT A LONGGGGGG ONE #bucky barnes #tony stark #rhodey #pepper potts #yes this took all day yes i didn't proofread it #but i love this so much #lovelyirony writes

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juleswolverton-hyde · 4 years

Text

Not by the Moon | 01

Genre: Smut, Romance, Strangers to Lovers, Drama, Tragedy, Werewolf AU, Supernatural AU, Bookshop AU

Pairing: Bookshop keeper!/Werewolf!JB x Reader

Warnings: Mild swearing, allusion to anxiety

Summary: Every story has a purpose or goal it is dedicated to, their authors at times going to great lengths to see the project they once started to completion. Nevertheless, the things the writers swore on to see their latest art piece to completion are static.

Unchanging.

None of them swore by the Moon nor Love because they can solely genuinely swear on all that changes like themselves.

And yet, a wolf in love foolishly swore by the moon.

That is when Time truly started ticking.

Next chapter

Masterlist

There is nothing quite like visiting a bookshop on a rainy autumn day, walking the pavements that will soon deepen in their shade of grey as the scarlet and burnt orange leaves will be decorated with tiny watery crystals. The fierce wind preludes to the sorrow of the gloomy clouds overhead, the chill creeping beneath the navy trenchcoat cooling the little skin bared by a simple ink black V-neck shirt. Caffeinated bordeaux sneakers hasten their step when leaving the district ruled by busy city life and entering the artisans district on the east side of town, where the boroughs are ruled by artists, individual shops, cafés and independent bookstores that each have their own vibe.

For a while now, a specific one has yet to be visited, intending to drop by ever since that long walk that lead through many a cobblestone street lined with brownstone houses and not a single business anywhere in sight. Except for Paper Souls, a hidden gem tucked away at the edge of the area where homes and commerce just meet and have resulted in a small store disguised as a proper worker’s house. As can be judged from the window display, the shop sells both well-known titles alongside more obscure ones, bound in editions fresh from the press and those having lived a ready life on someone’s shelves.

A second before the first tears of the heavens fall and make their presence known by ticking against the window, the bookstore is entered with a low sigh of delight. Nothing comes remotely close to the distinct scent of books, this specific combination of mustiness and ink laced with the fragrance of the weather outside and perfumes of customers. Or, in this case, solely the owner’s.

Here and there, a rumour about the man ruling the paper kingdom has been picked up and it is safe to say not all have been positive. A subject that has been frequently touched upon, oft causing more of a stir than the overall intimidating attitude, are the differently coloured eyes. One brown like hazelnuts at the end of the year and the other as blue as the ocean far outside the harbour.

The ones belonging to long blonde locks with dark roots looking up from the current read behind the counter and which are briefly met with a polite nod and casual greeting. At least one aspect of the groundless gossip is true because the disgruntled stoicism on the handsome face acknowledging the professional meaningless acquaintance silently makes the heart race and constricts the throat. It awakens the need to run and hide somewhere among the chestnut shelves, become a character in a tale so as to vanish and thus avoid upsetting the clerk by merely being present. Which might be the biggest problem, considering today’s goal of staying inside and spend it as is habitually done.

Don’t be silly. Just find a book and settle down somewhere to read a few pages. As long as you’re quiet, nothing’s gonna happen.

Thus, mayhaps repeating the self-chastisement once or twice, the creaking worn floorboards are walked upon as ghostlike as possible though every step makes the Body cringe due to the loudness disturbing the silence.

And him.

The young man whose gaze is momentarily met before fleeing to the vintage couch in an incline with a gorgeous Penguin hardcover copy of William Blake’s Songs of Innocence and Experience, which has been found in the poetry section across from the counter. Breath was held while standing on the tips of the toes while reaching for the thin volume on one of the highest shelves, hoping to not attract attention and refusing to use one of the nearby dark-wooden stools to climb atop because such acrobatics would likely not sit well with the person causing the hairs at the back of the neck to stand on edge.

A sigh of relief cannot be helped when loosening the buttons of the trenchcoat and tossing it over the arm rest before snuggling up in the corner of the sofa. Finally a moment devoid of stress, a chance to be carried off by the works of a beloved poet and artist embodying the truth of childhood and adulthood.

But being brought back all too soon from criticism on the corrupt Catholic Church by the oppressive presence of loose ripped jeans which are perceived just above the edge of the mustard cover. Despite being barely able to gather the courage to look away from the page, lashes nevertheless look up to hands tucked into denim pockets and non-matching irises peering down. Curiously, though it is also alarming, the gaze from above is awkward as if unsettled by the mere presence of a well-meaning bookworm which confirms the assumption about being a nuisance.

Although, the paradoxically misplaced inquiry spoken in a husky voice undermines the deduction. The lowering of broad shoulders does too, allowing personal defenses to waver a bit in the pursuit of kindness. ‘’How do you like your coffee?’’

Bewildered yet finding no clear reason for the kind question in the stoicism of two-toned locks, the simple reflex of asking for a repeat is acted upon with a sheepish tongue that does not know what to make of the situation. ‘’Sorry, what?’’

‘’Coffee. How do you drink yours?’’ A gruff slightly chubby thumb points toward the door, the glass decorated with autumnal tears. ‘’It might be raining, but I still need caffeine. Figured I might as well buy you something too. So, what should I get?’’

What do I do? Do I accept the offer? I mean, he offered it, but declining would still be polite. Then again, it’s free coffee.

‘’Oh, uhm, that’s very sweet of you.’’ The bundle is put down in the lap, flabbergasted shy hands tucked between the thighs while trying to stay as small as possible. It is a silly instinct, but the closeness of the intimidating bookshop clerk calls for it. Moreover, the deep slightly hoarse tone that sounds both as if still recovering from something and being exhausted with the world does not make matters better.

However, albeit for a split second that is not credible enough, little will-o-the-wisps illuminate the entrancing wildness of an ocean and hazelnut forest as a quicksilver smile flashes over roseate lips. A beautiful fleeting sight which might never have arisen from the solemnity resting like a mask on the youth’s face.

A daydream.

Indeed, surely that is what it must have been. What other reason could there be to show a sign of being pleased with someone who does not feel particularly welcome and at ease in this paper kingdom?

Led astray by the unfocused train of thought, distracted by what may or may not have been witnessed, the actual answer comes out on a mumble. All the while boldly looking back, wondering. ‘’An iced vanilla latte... would be nice.’’

Acknowledging the order with a mere low rumble similar to a wolf’s, the clerk sets off on a caffeinated journey and leaves an affected soul behind.

While still being highly uncomfortable with the lad’s presence, the thought of what just happened and the offer of a drink that was not in the slightest reluctant imprints a warm impression on a racing heart. Yet, before any ungrounded fantasies arise, the poetry bundle is quickly picked up again and later exchanged for a thick volume of Keats’s poetry that has been picked up in a rush to seemingly have never moved from the leather couch. To not leave a single trace of chaos which might trigger the wrath of the bookshop keeper and perhaps end up in being drenched by cold coffee.

All the fear is evidently in vain because, when being once again engrossed by poetry, the ghost of a touch over the cheekbone breaks the spell. As if awakening from a dream, the suggestion of the outstretched cold drink passes unnoticed. Instead, it is replaced by a look at ripped jeans beneath a loose tartan blazer, resulting in the novel discovery of a little gem embedded in the right nostril.

The rattle of ice entrapped in plastic fully awakens the senses as well as the sharp rustle of a paper bag bearing the logo shaped like an apple out of which a bite has been taken. ‘’Here. It’s on me. Don’t think anything of it, I just don’t want you to get dehydrated or hungry.’’

‘’Right.’’ With trembling hands expecting to have the food carelessly thrown into the lap and drink pushed into the palm, the surprising meal is accepted. Without the slightest sign of pushing. ‘’Still, thanks.’’

Once again, a beastly grunt is all that is received in return before checkered trainers retreat to the front of the establishment. Strangely, they soon return with the current read which was enjoyed behind the counter alongside the cold brew that was picked up to battle the fatigue that noticeably laces demeanour. Because, when sinking back into the sofa after having been gestured at to scoot over and haphazardly making room, lashes flutter shut for longer than a mere blink. Notwithstanding, they are awake enough to notice the shift in reading. ‘’Keats?’’

‘’Uh, yes. He’s one of my favorites alongside Blake, Donne and, on occasion, Wordsworth.’’ Personal enthusiasm takes over when mentioning the last poet with whom there is a love-hate relationship, erasing any anguish at being close to the keeper of the kingdom and thus making it possible to ignore the few centimeters of space between bodies. ‘’Even though he’s basically a fraud by turning his sister’s experiences into poetry. It makes one wonder whether he had any talent to come up with something himself. Now, I do believe some of his works are genuinely his, but not all. Sorry, I’ll- I’ll shut up.’’

Questioning chestnut and water reintroduce the silence disturbed by autumnal rain accompanied by howling winds, stretching out over the empty streets. Nobody likes a blathering fool, least of all the stoic who surprisingly has decided to join one’s company.

Or, so was the original thought that is now nullified by a sliver of a smile and something inaudible smokily mumbled beneath breath. There is no courage to inquire about what was said nor ask for a reason for being evidently entertained, simply rapidly picking up the volume again to resume reading with an overheated, ashamed mind.

Here and there, however, sneaky peeks are thrown in the direction of bleached locks thoroughly enjoying Dante’s Inferno, a work that has been on the to-be-read list for the longest time and somehow has never been crossed off.

Come on, you can do it. Ask him how it is, whether he likes Dante. Don’t be a marshmallow. Okay, one, two... fuck.

‘’How’s Keats?’’ Beating the barely daring tongue to it, the young man interrupts the hardly focused enjoyment of poetry that maybe lasted about fifteen minutes.

‘’Good.’’ More wants to be added to the opinion, but cannot be shaped nor voiced due to the bafflement at seeing sincere interest pierce through an unwavering expression. On the other hand, another unnameable sentiment underlines attitude too, floating ever so slightly beneath the surface.

‘’You haven’t touched your food.’’ Lips slightly pout when glancing at the paper bag that rests on the trenchcoat that had hastily been draped over the other arm rest when bleached locks sat down, colourful irises dimming.

Worry.

Why does it affect him? What does it matter if I eat or not?

To hopefully grant a bit of reassurance, an absent-minded promise is made before diving back into the misery of a nightingale. ‘’I’ll eat in a bit. Just one more poem.’’

As fast as lightning, the volume flies from hapless palms and the scent of books mingled with musky mint suddenly leans over to grab the purchased treat, fingertips pressing against the side of the thigh. Every muscle tenses up at the new form of intimacy, inwardly praying for the tartan blazer to return to his place as soon as possible. ‘’No, it’s already two o’clock and I’m sure you had breakfast early. You should eat. Where’s your coffee?’’

A trembling finger points to the untouched iced vanilla latte on the floor, put just in front of the sofa. Hands rise even higher when the bookshop keeper’s heartbeat and heated broad chest can be temporarily felt when slightly chubby digits lean over to grab the plastic cup. ‘’I’m not…’’

‘’What?’’ Clearly not understanding the need to keep looking away, unsteadily focusing on the sides of the nearest bookshelf, the question comes out agitated as the retrieved items are pushed forward, unmistakably intended to be taken. The shift in behaviour is as little comprehensible as the likely appearance of warm rosy cheeks going paired with a fist pressing on the lips, tongue-tied.

Mentally chastising oneself for the awkward display, courage is forcibly gathered to face the puzzled grumpy young man and answer with a whisper. ‘’I’m not comfortable eating in public.’’

‘’We’re not in public.’’

‘’Or with people I don’t know.’’

This revelation is clearly unexpected, eyes widening when reluctantly elaborating on an irrational fear with folded hands tucked between the thighs. For a second, there is nothing but an uncomfortable hush in which the worst outcome is vividly painted in the mind. Fortunately and oddly, it is broken as the stoic’s attitude shifts to something that has not been witnessed before and which goes against any rumour floating around town.

A gentle smile plays around the corners of the mouth as the tense grip on the food and drink loosens, gently putting the rustling bag in the lap and a warm palm grabbing one hand to place the lukewarm cup in it. ‘’There. I’m Jaebeom, JB for short. Now, can you please eat something? And I promise I won’t judge you.’’

‘’Shouldn’t- Shouldn’t you eat something too? You look like you could use some energy.’’ Up close, the fatigue has become visibly noticeable outside the moment of sitting down and closing eyes for a little bit longer than would suffice for a blink. Affected by the niceness of the gentle acquaintance and thoughtfulness, the croissant in the bag is torn in half to offer a part to the current company. ‘’How about we share this?’’

‘’You don’t have to.’’ A low breathy chuckle rolls forth at the gesture, strangely elating the heart and stirring up a storm of butterflies in the stomach. Again, the same unintelligible phrase that was muttered under breath earlier seems to be repeated.

A penny for your thoughts. What did you say?

Putting aside curiosity to not prematurely cross any boundaries of politeness, what wants to be asked is suppressed and reformed into a request for sharing. After all, the lack of energy outlined by vague dark circles beneath non-matching irises is truly a cause for concern. ‘’Please? I don’t have that big of an appetite.’’

With a resigning sigh, the offer is accepted. Much to the strange delight of the soul who still is not entirely trusting of the bookshop keeper yet already has the mental defenses down a little bit more than before. ‘’Alright, if you insist.’’

What follows is an absolutely adorable though also surprising scenario as the pastry is enjoyed in one bite, the food disappearing without any trouble. Nibbling on the other half, staring cannot be helped as a sip of coldbrew is enjoyed to wash the treat down. However, the unintended impolite mannerism, of course, cannot pass under the radar. Hence is why dark brows furrow in puzzlement when remarking upon being a point of attention. ‘’What?’’

‘’Nothing. You just…’’ a moment is taken to try and find the right word yet failing to think of one which accurately describes the eating manner, ‘’you just wolfed that down.’’

‘’Sorry if it makes you uncomfortable. I can be a bit, well, unmannered at times.’’ The gaze focusing on the iced black coffee adds to the sorrowful side profile, unwillingly nostalgic, but unapproachable for comfort. ‘’I try not to be. I’m trying to, no, never mind.’’ Another sip. ‘’Forget it. Just eat and stay as long as you like.’’

‘’Jaebeom?’’ In a reflex, after swiftly wiping fatty fingertips on the coarse paper napkin, the bookshop keeper is grabbed by the sleeve as he tries to move away. Alarmed by the sudden bold move, non-matching irises briefly flare with an odd mixture of fear and annoyance before seemingly realizing something and thus calming down. All this goes hidden behind a badly enacted tolerating low hum. ‘’Can you, I mean, only if you don’t mind, could you... could you stay here? For a little while? At least sit down for a few more minutes. I promise I won’t stare as I did and actually read.’’

‘’You want me to... stay?’’ Dark brows furrow in a strange confusion, uncomprehending of the normal request. Although, perhaps it is not so casual seeing as it needs to be thought about. ‘’Stay? Here?’’

‘’If you don’t mind? I’m sorry if I freaked you out, I really didn’t mean to.’’

‘’You didn’t. I should be the one apologizing for being so distant.’’

‘’I don’t blame you. You barely know me.’’

‘’I don’t know you.’’ The observation hits hard, the sternness of the reply crucifying the heart and constricting the throat. How odd a fact should have this result. Withal, the misplaced hurt is a little soothed by the promise that follows. ‘’I’ll stay. But I’ll be closing in about two hours.’’

And thus, for one hour and a half, the paper kingdom falls quiet. Solely the tinkering tears of heaven decorating the glass of the windows, howling winds stirring the richly warm leaves into dance and occasional wandering lonely umbrella break the silence. Inside, the only noise to disrupt the hush is the turn of a page or sniffle that may or may not prelude to a cold.

However, all tranquil beauty knows an end for Time always runs out. Henceforth, it is at half past four that a light tap goes paired with the barely audible comment “you have to go”. Likely due to the aftermath of being pulled from a world of poetic Nature into gloomy Reality, there is a wrong perception of Jaebeom’s voice. Surely, the sorrowful reluctance is imagined.

As you said, you don’t know me.

The mere thought pains Body and Soul when grabbing the navy trenchcoat off of the faux leather arm rest, stepping towards the bookshelf where Keats was found and the exit afterwards. No chance of wandering a little longer between the books is given, the clerk following closely behind and unconsciously guiding feet towards the entrance.

‘’Y/N? Will you, uh…’’ Restless trembling palms hover in the air like two bent paws failing to illustrate something, a rosy flush spread over the cheeks, ‘’Can I put your jacket on? I mean, let me help you put your jacket on. That’s how you say it, right?’’

With an affirming hum, big palms with slightly chubby digits are allowed to help dress into the piece of clothing.

Glide over the side of the neck when collecting hair to make it flow over the collar instead of being tucked beneath it, leaving a trail of goosebumps and sharpening breath.

All the while maintaining eye contact, both our faces distorting with timidity. It is then that glances are haphazardly thrown around the empty store to avoid each other for a second wherein composure is hopefully found.

And it would appear that the buff tall blonde youth is the first to do so, speech matter-of-factly when voicing an unspoken suggestion while holding on to the upper arms. ‘’I haven’t even asked your name.’’

Bashfully, the answer is uttered in a proper vis-á-vis with entrancing two-toned irises though the urge to bolt out the door remains. Nevertheless, the rapid loss of contact is disliked, JB realizing how the intimacy might come across when glancing at the fingertips digging into fabric, almost begging to stay. ‘’It’s Y/N.’’

The instinct to flee is lessened by the step forward thoughtfully repeating the name, carefully feeling out the syllables as if comprehending a siren’s song. ‘’I had a good time, Y/N.’’

‘’Me too.’’ It is true because, despite the distance that was endeavoured to be closed with food, reading and shallow conversation, the time spent together was actually quite enjoyable. Notwithstanding, too much of the clerk remains unknown to say whether all has been out of politeness or if any sincere trust has been shown.

‘’Even though you’re still scared of me?’’

‘’I’m not!’’ A sigh rolls off the tongue at the sight of a smug grin on roseate lips knowing better than to lie about genuine sentiments. ‘You’re just... just kinda intimidating.’

‘’Kinda? To me it seems like a whole lot more than ‘just kinda’. You almost seem eager to go even though you were hesitating earlier.’’ Bright hazelnut and the summer sea are overcast by lonely grief putting on the airs of suppressed rage, painfully re-establishing and enhancing the distance that was briefly shortened with a step backwards. ‘’To get away from me. Make up your mind.’’

‘’Yes, I’m intimidated by you. A lot.’’ The renewed cold emptiness is warily bridged, planning out the words to say to not make matters worse. ‘’And, to be honest, I don’t want to go. Still, it’s because you intimidate me I might seem uneasy and glad to go, but I can assure you I’m not. I really had a good time. We might not have talked a lot, but I still had a splendid afternoon. With you. And for that, I’m grateful. I’m sorry I confuse you, make you feel awkward because of my behaviour.’’

The waterfall of a confession catches the bookshop keeper off guard, but also manages to make tense broad shoulders lower their defenses as colourful eyes calm down. Digits rise from the pockets of loose ripped jeans to envelop the upper arms once more, this time rubbing them reassuringly and let the personal walls crumble too. ‘You don’t have to be afraid of me nor apologize. Look, we’ll talk about this another time. For now, you have to go and I have to close the shop. Get home safely and don’t catch a cold.’

‘’You too.’’

‘’Don’t worry. I won’t.’’

With a last nod and gentle smile relieved at the prospect of good health, warm palms are stepped away from.

The watery autumn chill cools the heat from being seen off by blonde locks.

I couldn’t get sick even if I wanted to.

When the enchanting scent of summer citrus, autumnal blackberries and juicy peaches has faded, the two volumes that were touched by it are picked from the shelves without a clear understanding of why. Neither is there a sense of comprehension when it comes to the sheer curiosity about what it is that the adorable shy doe so likes about these specific poets. Notwithstanding, both books are picked up and put on the counter alongside the current read to take upstairs after sweeping and properly closing the shop.

Which does not take long, soon after already stumbling up the metal stairs to the apartment above the establishment with a famished stomach and tense muscles, watching the oppressive concrete clouds slightly give way to the lilac dusk before heading inside. Fortunately, dinner has been prepared in advance so the various side dishes solely need to be warmed up in the microwave just like the rice in the cooker. The hair dye job, however, will have to wait until tomorrow. That is, if it is remembered like the face of the local historian who seems awfully fascinated by the affliction distorting identity.

Shedding off the weight of the day, clothes are removed and tossed on the couch to be replaced by the bathrobe that was put there in the morning after yet another long night filled with amnesia. Afterwards, bare feet trod to the kitchen to retrieve the cold dishes from the refrigerator and put them in the microwave to heat up.

It’s getting late, but at least there’s still some time to read. Funny how my last thought is of you.

Just as the melancholic thought arises over a big bowl of bibimbap accompanied by William Blake’s Songs of Innocence and Experience, the screen of the phone on the counter lights up after a brief buzz. When getting up to check, the message appears to be from the supernatural scholar.

“Good luck tonight. I’ll be at your place around 7. Hopefully, you’ll be yourself again. If not, I’ll wait outside. Jinyoung.”

As always, the text is signed with the young man’s name to help ease the recovery of ever-fading memory. Even after living around three years among humans again, the ability to recall actual names alongside how to enact civilized behaviour remains hard.

And becomes more difficult with every passing day.

For now, I want to try. I want to speak to you at least one more time and explain myself. Part ways on good terms, let you know what I am.

A smile cannot be helped at the sight of the bowl next to the mustard poetry bundle, vividly re-imagining how it was held by small hands on the faux leather sofa this afternoon.

How those same tiny digits tore off half of the croissant without hesitation and offered it to an animal, nibbling adorably on theirs while endeavouring to put on a human act and failing due to the hunger always preceding hell.

But a fantasy never lasts.

Time never stops.

It solely ticks.

Runs out.

Hopefully, I’ll remember you.

And the moon cannot be sworn by for She cannot stay away nor remain the same.

That night, the name of the bookish fawn is the last powerful word to recall before losing a grip on the world in the cold dark illuminated by artificial light.

Naked and shackled beneath the concrete ground.

Hoping for a memory.

Y/N.

#ksmutclub #GOT7 #GOT7 smut #GOT7 x Reader #Jaebeom #Jaebum #Im Jaebeom #Im Jaebum #GOT7 Werewolf AU #Werewolf!Jaebeom #Werewolf!Jaebum #Not by the Moon

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malloryslourd · 4 years

Text

Goodeday's Daughter Throwing A Party At The Coven

—————

Warnings: Some Strong Language, Mentions Of Drug And Alcohol Use

—————

the chaos of just thinking about this is really sending me to some dark places

it was a simple idea: 1) the parents were out 2) it was a friday night 3) they would have the house clean

so the plan was a go

invites had started out small but of course it had gotten out of hand quickly

on top of Madison and Coco inviting basically everyone on their snapchat a bunch of the high schools in the area had hear about it and brought it upon themselves to go

Queenie and Zoe were out on drink and food duty

you and Mallory had set up the house

putting all the important things in a place where they couldn't be found

Madison called for some backup just incase things got out of hand, as she claimed, but really it was some frat guys she wanted to come who weren't going to be much help at all

once everyone had gotten ready, people had already started to show up

it had seemed tamed at first

that was until everyone realized Madi and Coco shouldn't have been in charge of invites

"There's like a thousand people here!" "And that's a complaint?" "You SHOULD be thanking us!"

for at least the first hour and a half it was pretty chill to start off- a regular house party

then things took a turn for the worst

if anything could go wrong at a party- it went wrong

somehow, magically, mysteriously, someone got into the greenhouse and made it the designated smoke room because why wouldn't they

there was at least four (4) vases broken throughout the house

some asshole decided he wanted to skate down the stairs and made a painting fall that was hanging up on his way down

the tv in the living room was knocked down and most definitely never going to work again

the door to the downstairs bathroom was broken by some drunk guy who then ran out the house before anyone saw who it was

the liquor cabinet where the special drinks for dinner guests had been broken into and practically emptied before anyone noticed

there was a fight in the backyard that no one had enough time to break up before one of the guys got a bloody nose and busted lip

and possibly one of the worst things to happen was someone spilled their drink on a portrait- not just any Supreme's portrait, oh no, Fiona's portrait

Zoe was the one who discovered this and by the way she screamed everyone thought someone died

when you all got into the room and saw it you almost cried because you knew this was what was going to get you all killed

Madison panicked the most surprisingly

"This is it. We're dead. We're literally going to die. What the fuck are we going to do? We can never fix this? It's over with!"

you had to snap her out of it because you two were still standing there in shock while everyone ran off to stop the OTHER fight happening in the backyard again

and it was only 11:15 at this point

Zoe had to take a minute and a few shots to calm her nerves and get into I-Was-Put-In-Charge-Of-The-House Mode

Coco swore she was going to fight the next person to slide down the stairs so you and Queenie had to clam her down before she did something she regretted

Mallory was literally having a full blown break down in the bathroom while Coco and Queenie tried to calm her down

she went up to her room until the party ended

you had gotten into it with a few guys from John Curtis

you were VERY reluctantly held back

"HIT ME! DO IT BITCH! YOU SAID YOUR DAD CAN PAY FOR THE LAWYER! HE MIGHT AS WELL PAY FOR THE FUNERAL TOO!" "Y/N STOP IT!" "FUCK ALL OF Y'ALL"

they were kicked out by Madison's friends before you set fire to the building and everyone in it

once the party had finally end at like 2am an official tally of all the things that need to be replaced, fixed, cleaned, or hidden was started

Mallory sent the list to the groupchat and it was divided among everyone

Queenie started an emotional/mental tally too

Y/N fighting JCC boys

Mallory crying three times

Coco almost hitting some pothead

you all stayed up to maybe 5am trying to clean but it wasn't even close to being finished

luckily Zoe and Madison were successful with getting Fiona's portrait clean before they turned in for the night

Madison knew just how to get the horrible weed smell out of the greenhouse

no one really questioned it

Queenie did a lot of the tidying up with Coco as they ran frantic with trash bags around the house

you and Mallory did a count of the price of everything you were going to have to replace or hide because it was broke and you replaced the broken door with an extra one in the shed

everyone's mentality is just: it's a big house, there's no way they're gonna notice everything... right?

everyone went to sleep for just a few hours before waking upon and starting right back where they left off

you and Mallory went to the city to buy everything you needed, both pushing through the killer hangovers

on your way home you got a call from Zoe asking for you guys to get more cleaning supplies because they had ran out cleaning the living room

you and Mallory turned around and bought like $350 worth of cleaning stuff

when you had gotten back the entrance was back in order

however when you two walked into the living room it was a different story

Madison had passed out on the carpet, gloves on and scrub brush in hand

before either of you asked anything Zoe had already asked for more bleach for the couches

you dropped off all the supplies and went back to what you were doing the night before- replacing broken stuff around the house

Mallory had put vases where they went and you replaced the fancy glasses in the kitchen and the few broken picture frames

Coco and Queenie were practically done with their work so they asked Mallory to help repair the damage left in the yard from the fights

that's when you got the phone call from Cordelia that they were going to be home in about two hours

when you told everyone else they went into a panic

Madison had went to the liquor store to refill the liquor cabinet

Queenie was trying to figure out how to get rid of all the trash

it was either burning it or finding a dumpster to throw it all in

a giant fire would've been hard to explain so Madison called one of her friends to load his truck up and throw it all away

"Why do these guys owe you so much?" "Mind your business"

with about thirty minutes to go, the finally steps of just wiping down the last of the counters and tables

literally right as the last paper towel was being thrown away the front door was being unlocked

"RUN!" "From what?" "... I DON'T KNOW!"

Misty and Cordelia had walked into the living room to find everyone very "nonchalantly" sitting watching tv

"...Hi?"

you all just smiled and greeted them hoping you hadn't missed anything

they hadn't noticed much just commenting on how clean the house was and how the yard had looked different oddly

Madison said she was practicing some new spell that had messed with the grass

that definitely raised some suspicion

everything had seemed to be fine and you had all relaxed

you had all went about your days, finally being able to talk about last nights events

Coco had taken some wild pictures and videos and you all made sure to have a laugh about them to kinda calm your nerves

everything had seemed fine before everyone heard Misty slam the back door

"WHOSE FUCKING BRA WAS IN THE GREENHOUSE?!"

149 notes · View notes

ambivalent-anarchy · 4 years

Text

Grey

Gender: Female

Pairing: Peter Parker x morally grey! reader

Warning: None

Saw something on Pinterest and had an idea.

This will be a new storyline. Not a fic, just the one-shots will be connected, though you'll be able to read all of them separate and it still makes sense. You can send requests for this storyline just put 'Peter Parker x grey!reader'

Morally grey- a character who does too much good to fully be bad, but too much bad to fully be good and their motives are unclear.

Hope you like it!

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

Peter had been warned against people like her.

She kept him on his toes, always switching sides. She wasn't like the other villains he'd known.

Mysterio, Scorpion, Otto Octavius. They were bad. There was no doubt about it. They'd each brought some turmoil on the world in one form or another.

They needed to be stopped. So Spiderman stopped them. Simple as that.

But [Y/N]. She was different.

"Watch out for the morally grey ones," Mr. Stark had told him early in his superhero career. "They're the confusing ones. The ones ya just can't fully be mad at."

Natasha was much more clear with her approach. "Take my advice, kid," she said. "Don't make it personal. I've seen how you act with your villains.. one like that, where they're so close to being good, yet so far. One like that would kill your spirit."

And it certainly seemed Peter had finally found his match.

"Give it up, [Y/N]! I always catch you!"

He'd been tracking her for weeks now. At first it seemed she was just a common thief. But she was smart. She had skills. She had plans. And well, if you wear a costume, you can't just be some common thief.

"You forget, Spiderman!," she chirped as she ran, a large, bulging bag on her back. "We're twelve to seven! I've been coming up lately!"

Peter rolled his eyes as he hopped into action. "Is this just a game to you?"

"I'm just saying," she laughed. "Gotta give credit where credit is due!"

Peter scoffed as he swung to catch up. "You say that as you hold a bag of hundreds of people's stolen money!"

This was her fifth time this week. Going to rich people's banks and sneaking past the security systems and stealing their money.

For a few weeks, Peter hadn't eaten. He hadn't slept. He was practically going crazy searching for her. Trying to pin an M.O. to make it a bit easier for himself. But she was untraceable. The only thing he'd found out about her was her name. Which basically led to nothing being that she was practically a nobody. The only time he could see her was when she made herself visible.

Today, she'd hit the bank Norman Osborn had been storing sums of his money into. But hardly anyone knew that. She'd done her research and some heavy snooping.

"It's mostly just Osborn today, he'll find a way to bounce back! He always does!," she yelled, jumping to the last building on the block.

She looked around desperately as she felt her chaser getting closer. She was trapped. "Crap," she muttered.

"Gotcha," Peter whispered to himself as he swung to the building she stood on. Once there, he quickly webbed the bag from her back.

Quickly noticing what he was doing, [Y/N] caught it just as he began to snatch it. She kept a tight hold on it and they began to fight for dominance, stuck in their own little game of tug-of-war.

"Let...go!," Peter grunted.

"Not on your life," she shot back, feeling her feet slide on the concrete. She was about to lose.

They both realized it as her feet began to give way and her body became airborne, almost crashing into Peter before he quickly moved out of the way.

"Ugh!"

[Y/N] screamed as her entire back crashed into wall of the building. Looking up, she watched as Spiderman grabbed the bag.

"Oh, hell no," she spat.

Peter smirked as he picked up the bag. "Sorry [Y/N]. But I guess it's thirteen to seven now- AGH!"

He collapsed in an instant, feeling something hard sling across his face. It was too hard to be a fist. And God it hurt like hell.

[Y/N] scowled. "You threw me into a wall!," she screamed as hit her nemesis again and again with the butt of her gun. "You asshole!"

Peter grimaced, attempting to grab hold to her wrists and push her off of him. "Well, I didn't BREAK YOUR NOSE!," he hissed through gritted teeth. Luckily, that was the only thing that felt broken of his.

She continued her brutal attack on his upper body, almost as if she's was trying to put the gun through him before he finally got the upper hand and threw her off.

He moved to try to stand, but he fell back down, an entirely new, different pain aside from his face starting.

[Y/N] propped her head up. "Was that your stomach?," she asked.

Aunt May was out of town, so there was no one to make sure Peter had been taking care of himself, which he hadn't. The last thing he'd prepared was a pop-tart, that was still burning in the toaster in his home as he sat on that building.

[Y/N] stood, rubbing her back to relieve some of the pain she felt that was keen on staying. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure that was your stomach."

Peter scrunched his eyebrows together, confused. Still, he put his fist up to fight, ignoring the heavy and loud rumbling of his stomach.

Rolling her eyes, she threw the gun down. "Well, I'm not gonna fight you now." She moved toward him to pick up the bag he barely had a hold on. Unzipping it and reaching in, she pulled out a few bills and put it in the hand that wasn't pressing his cheek. "Here. Take it."

Peter backed into the wall some more, if that was even possible. "I don't want your dirty money," he protested.

"Well, it's from a rich people bank. It's actually pretty clean," [Y/N] joked before kicking his uninjured leg lightly. "C'mon man, don't be weird just take it, okay?"

"Put the money back in the bag," Peter ordered, making a second attempt to stand. He didn't make it this time either, cursing quietly as he fell back to the ground. Was he hurt or was he just really tired he asked himself.

"You need to eat something."

Peter frowned, wrapping both arms around his grumbling stomach. "You need to mind your own business."

[Y/N] stepped forward slowly, arms held out in front of her, palms up. "You fainted on me last week, remember idiot? And I can hear how hungry you are now." She walked a bit closer, picking up the bills her enemy had thrown on the ground, then looked back up to him. "If you won't take the money, at least let me buy you some food," she bargained.

Peter watched the mixed expressions flicker on her face. Annoyance. Concerned? She sighed, rolling her eyes.

"Look Spiderman, you help everyone. Let someone help you for once. Don't let your pride stop you from taking the help you need to continue saving lives, okay?" She smiled crookedly. "To continue stopping people like me."

Peter stared, mouth agape. "[Y/N], what is this?," he questioned. "You're not nice.. you're rude, a-and you only care about yourself." He winced, shuffling to lay his back on the wall of the building you'd thrown him into moments before.

"Well, I've always preferred 'rough around the edges', but okay," she snickered, rolling her eyes and then looking down at the ground right in front of his feet. This was completely out of her element, but she couldn't help but feel like she was obligated to do it.

"Alright, but.. you hate me," Peter said, looking up to see her completely unreadable face.

She finished stuffing the rest of the money in her bag. "I think you've got me messed up with Doc Oc," she said, wiping off her pants, getting ready to help Spider-man up. "I'm not like most of them, y'know. Us villains aren't all the same. Some of us actually do have some morals."

He watched as she looked around, muttering to herself. If it were anybody else, they wouldn't have heard her. But with his senses, Peter heard her loud and clear.

'God, give me strength.'

She held her hand out to him. "Come on, let me get you outta here, Spider."

Underneath his mask, Peter's frown deepened. "No, I got it... just go, okay?" He still had a hold on the bag with his webs. He was offering her a chance to escape.

"Don't be an idiot, dude," she scolded. "I just pistol-whipped you. Even if you swing, I'm sure all that wind blowing on your cuts and bruises wouldn't be comfortable..."

Peter blew out a breath. He knew she didn't really want this. So why was she so insistent? She was a criminal and he was the hero. Simple as that. Or at least, it's supposed to be.

But now she was helping him? Offering him a meal? He hated to admit it, but at this moment, he preferred criminals like Doc Oc or Green Goblin. At least they didn't confuse him like this.

But she's didn't seem to be going anywhere anytime soon. And he did still need to take the cash she'd stolen. So swallowing his pride, he chuckled. "Um, [Y/N]... look.."

And now they were in the Olive Garden parking lot.

She'd helped clean most of his cuts in her car (his mask only going up to his nose of course).

After he'd had a bit of time to calm down, he turned his face toward her. "So, um, there's no drive-thru?"

The villain scoffed lightly. "Hell no," she responded. "I'm not throwing my whole day off on you. We're movin' on my schedule bucko. And anytime I lose against you, and not get thrown in lockup, I go drink, okay? That cool with you?," you teased. "Or are you gonna tell me how unhealthy that is Mr. Superhero Guy?"

Peter huffed. "Well, you can go eat. But I'm not taking off my mask. I'll stay here."

"And let you steal back my cash? I don't think so," she retorted.

"So what?," he asked, frankly annoyed at this point. "Spider-Man just walks into an Olive Garden with a random girl?"

"Wouldn't be that way if you'd just take off your mask," [Y/N] defended. "Then it'd just be two random people walking into an Olive Garden."

"That's not an option."

Tapping on the dashboard, she groaned. "C'mon, I take my mask off in front of you all the time! You know who I am. Why can't I know who you are?"

"You don't care about keeping your identity a secret because you have nothing to lose. I'm not the same. I want my loved ones to be safe."

"That's implying that I'd hurt someone you love, Spider-Man. I'm not sadistic," [Y/N] corrected.

Peter frowned. "You literally pistol-whipped me about an hour ago."

"And I just spent that last hour nursing your wounds," she shot back.

"Sometimes you go out of your way to beat me up though."

"That's because sometimes you aggravate me," she laughed. "Occasionally, you deserve to get punched in the face."

"Whatever."

It was quiet again.

Until two minutes later Spiderman's stomach growled once again.

"Look dude, we could always pass you off as a overenthusiastic cosplayer?," she offered. "You wouldn't have to take off your mask that way, but you would get weird looks."

For probably the hundredth time since starting his hunt on her, Peter rolled his eyes. "Why do you want me to eat so much anyway?"

"I don't care about you if that's what you're suggesting," she said. "I just don't like people going hungry. And it's obvious you're not taking care of yourself." Her eyes shifted a bit. "And what's the fun in beating you if I'm not beating you at your highest, right?"

Peter chuckled at [Y/N]'s excuse. "Right.."

And now they were sat at a table. [Y/N] in a cute shirt she had in her car and some jeans. Peter still in his Spiderman suit.

Awkward, to say the least.

But the stares from waiters were the least of Peter's worries.

'What am I doing???'

He should've left hours ago. He should've grabbed the money and returned it and taken this girl to jail.

But the more he talked to her, and the way she nursed his wounds without question and gave him some food. It made him think of all the other things he hadn't noticed before.

How she only stole from the rich (which was very bad of course but way better than just taking from everybody). How she never went for kill shots, or even for spots that'd cause heavy injury.

She was a bad guy, yes. But maybe she wasn't a bad guy.

"I'm sorry for that time I shot you, by the way," she spoke in the middle of their meal. "It was meant to just be a warning shot. But you moved and it got your leg. It's been bugging me for a long time. That didn't take too long to heal, did it?"

Peter shook his head as he chewed his food.

"Good," she said. "Also for pistol-whipping you earlier today. I kinda got carried away."

"Yeah, I could tell. It hurts to chew right now," he said.

"Well my back still hurts from being thrown into a wa-"

"Why do you steal?," Peter cut in to ask.

Without any hesitation, [Y/N] responded. "It's just my way."

He frowned. "Just your way?," he repeated. "Haven't you-"

"Don't want a job. Tried them and didn't like them. And there's nothing more schools can teach me. Stealing has the thrill I love and it helps me to get around and, if the opportunity presents itself, to help somebody out."

Peter stared, dumbfounded. So [Y/N] was a good person...who just happened to like stealing? But then that else make her a bad person.

How could one person be so contradictory?

"You are an enigma," Peter marveled.

"Thank you," she replied, taking a sip of her wine.

When it came time to leave, [Y/N] paid and they made their way out of the building, actually laughing together and enjoying themselves.

They made their way back to her car. [Y/N] smiled. "Well, thanks for that, even though I never saw your face the whole time," she giggled. "Wait, does this count as a date? I'm sorta dressed up and you're probably in the best suit you've ever worn." She pinched at a spot of his suit on his shoulder. "Had a semi-fancy dinner-"

Peter held his head back and laughed. "I mean, I guess if you want it to, then it does. But I'm still gonna arrest you if I catch you again."

[Y/N] smirked. "And I'm still gonna steal, so.."

"Right..," Peter sighed. It wasn't like he thought he could actually change her in one night. But someone so insistent on doing a bad thing.

So close, yet so far...

Which made him remember..

"Oh yeah!," he exclaimed as he bursts off running towards the car, leaving a confused [Y/N] behind him.

She didn't get a chance to ask what he was doing before he kicked and busted the tires of her car and broke one of the windows to reach in and steal the bag of money inside.

Jumping onto her car, he pulled his mask up to right above his mouth. "Thanks for the meal! Gotta blast! Remember to stay off the streets!," Peter yelled before he jumped into the air.

Shocked, [Y/N] stood there frozen. "I-i, I-i.... I'M GONNA KILL YOU, SPIDERMAN!!!"

"You say that a lot!," he joked. "I'm beginning to doubt your commitment!"

"Ugh!"

"How'd it go, underoos?," Tony asked early the next morning.

Peter looked up from his computer with a unreadable expression on his face. "Hey Mr. Stark," he started. He furrowed his eyebrows. "I think I met one of those villains you used to talk about. The good but bad ones?"

Tony crossed his arms. "And?"

"I think we're kinda friends..."

#peter parker oneshot #peter parker fluff #peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fic #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #spiderman x you #spiderman mcu #spiderman fic #spiderman x reader #spiderman #marvel x you #marvel fanfiction #marvel x reader #marvel

91 notes · View notes

raspberryfanfics · 4 years

Text

adventures of wandering nowhere (Vignettes)—nejiweek day 4

Day 4 Prompt— Fate | Freedom

It’s Canada day:) Also I’m not that happy with these but here they are anyway.

nulla. (prologue)

There’s a lot of things money can’t buy you.

It’s cliche, but Neji Hyuga knows that it’s true in very many ways. Yet he also knows that money can buy you a lot of things to help with what it cannot. He always knew that the digits piling up in his bank account would be worth nothing if he didn’t save them for something good and he lets his uncle see what he wants to see until mid June before his nineteenth birthday.

Neji packs everything he needs, including his credit card, and goes to an airport. He doesn’t even know where he's going. Despite all the places he has been, the screen with way too many possible locations makes it extremely clear on how huge the world is and all the places worth going too expensive even for him.

He wonders if he should throw a dart to a map or ask the first person he sees, following them. But he has been nearly everywhere, Paris, New York, Los Angeles, London, Beijing, Barcelona, Cairo, Berlin, Dubai...and he realizes that what the only thing they have in common, even with Tokyo, is the size. Oh, he also realizes that he really doesn’t want to go to another huge city.

So he scans the chart again and several choices are knocked away so he considers the next question: what does he want to do?

Neji has been caged practically his whole life, doing everything his uncle wanted until now, and he was most definitely not going to stop yet. He wants to be able to run around and breathe fresh air and feel the breeze rather than the race of cars or drink from rivers so clean you could see the bottom. He wants space.

He stares at his map and thinks of space. Canada seems pretty nice. The country is huge, the population...not so much. There’s a variety of landscapes and people are said to be nice there. Honestly, he doesn’t really think much about kindness but the flight to Vancouver seems to speak to him so he books a flight as cheap as he can.

On the airplane, he sat on the side of two friends, one with a ridiculous black bowl cut and another with two buns on the sides of her head. He hears them talking about what they’re gonna do and the places they will see. He hasn’t heard of half of them, he hasn’t studied at all and has no plan. The guy screams that he loves Canada, catching the attention of several other passengers and the girl smacks him in a playful sort of way.

But they are friendly, ask him questions, and tell them of their experience in the country and being outdoors. They offer to let him wander with them, an offer he can’t refuse. He tells them that he has money and will pay for any expenses they can’t, but they smile at him with a glint in their eyes. Because to Tenten and Lee, money can buy them more time to travel, more time to live, and that’s when Neji knows that though he won’t have any of the familiar luxuries, his adventures are going to last a whole lot longer.

i. smaller big cities

Upon arriving in Vancouver, one thing is made very obviously clear to Neji: he will not be going to any tourist attractions. Vancouver is one of the biggest cities in Canada yet there is nothing more exhilarating about it than any other city he has been to.

Tenten rolls her eyes at the sound of Stanley Park and Lee exclaims how unyouthful it is to keep the orca whales. He’s prepared to buy a hotel room for the three of them but instead, they go to a consignment store and sell all of the clothes in his suitcase. After that, they shop for a new set of clothes that cater more to being outdoors than going to business meetings and now his wardrobe is mostly hiking pants, cheap t-shirts, and hoodies. The purchase of a sleeping bag and a blow-up sleeping pad more than makes up for the price of a hotel room.

Tenten and Lee then help his money again and they purchase a large second-hand pickup truck. They drive it to a nearby campsite and he’s absolutely shocked at how beautiful the mountains are. The lake is bluer than the sky and the area is filled with wildlife. He is taught how to set up their tent, sticking poles into tent gaps and held into the ground by metal pegs. A waterproof layer is thrown over. They then teach him to start a fire, which is a lot harder than it seems.

The two have been in Canada so many times that in optimal conditions, they can start one without a lighter, or even flint and steel. He has to use several bits of crumbled newspaper. He learns that they burn more if they are in smaller bits and that some branches won’t catch as well.

His sleep is not great, he is either too hot or too cold and when he wakes up to go to the bathroom it is pitch-black. He hears a rustling in the woods and screams. Neji never screams but the sound was terrifying and his two friends come rushing out with headlamps, blinding him.

He learns that headlamps are stored in the tent pockets and the next time he goes to the woods to do his business, it is a very good idea to rely on those instead of the stars.

ii. wildlife

Neji very much likes the birds and squirrels in the multiple camping trips he has now been on. He never thought that he’d like bathing in rivers and a swimsuit, but he does. He still isn’t sick of campfire-made spaghetti or smores.

He is in northern British columbia when he first sees a bear on the road. Bears are beautiful creatures. They are large and fluffy and the one he sees looks like a terrifying stuffed animal. Neji takes way too many pictures while Lee and Tenten laugh at him as they wonder when they can pull the truck away from the side of the road.

When he sees a bear when he’s camping, however, though his companions have kept all the smelly items in bear-proof containers, he is about to scream. Tenten clasps a hand over his mouth and waves her hands around. Lee lowers his voice several notches and tells the bear youthful things much slower. They talk to the bear for a few minutes, though it seems like several hours, and Neji swears he has never been as terrified in his life. In the end, the bear goes, as do they, and that’s when they realize how wrong they were not to give him the bear safety lesson.

He thinks that a bear is the most terrifying thing to happen to him though being relatively harmless if unprovoked, but one day they are just finishing packing the truck when he sees a moose. Neji is about to take a picture of the moose but it glares at him and suddenly has red blazing in his eyes. Lee is in the driver’s seat and Tenten is in the back of the pickup. Two of the four doors are still open. He is waiting for her to approach the moose in the way they did with the bear, but fear glazes in both their eyes and she screams run.

Neji is running for his life towards the truck and he jumps into the passenger seat and Lee drives off twice the speed limit, escaping a moose charging furiously towards them. All three of them are screaming for their lives and when they finally get to the highway, they look at each other and start laughing. The matter isn’t funny in the least, as Neji learns that there is no way to escape an angry moose rather than a bear, but they have just faced death in the form of a moose, right in the eye, but they survived.

iii. canoe trip

The first time the three of them actually rent instead of buy something, it happens to be a canoe, lifejackets, and drybags. They teach him how to canoe, every stroke he needs to know, and what to do if he flips. He tosses throwbags, ties knots, and packs bags. When they deep him good on the lake, they are ready to go onto a river.

They ask an old friend to park their truck at their end destination, and they load the canoes with the waterproof bags, their tents and sleeping bags, and four days of food supplies. They camp along the sides of the riverbank, making campfires, roasting marshmallows and hot dogs. When they’re lucky, they find berries and collect them for an extra source of food. When the sun finally sets, he can see all the stars glimmering above him and time seems to stop. He no longer cares about the pressures in the world on the disappointment he was to his uncle.

There are no problems in the middle of nowhere.

iv. talent

In the middle of nowhere, their truck breaks down.

Neji nearly has a mental breakdown because they haven’t seen a single car on that road for an hour. However, Tenten and Lee decide to sleep in the back of their truck and camp on the side of the road. Three other vehicles pass but they don’t stop. He wants to scream.

He’s going to be stuck here, he has no battery on his phone, there isn’t any cell connection, and they were supposed to stock up on food supplies that day. Coming here suddenly seems like a very bad idea. The whole night he is awake, tossing and turning, while Tenten and Lee are fast asleep, comfortable, content.

He realizes that it was all a cruel joke because Tenten was a skilled mechanic and she fixes their truck in a matter of twenty-six minutes. It appears that their sense of humour is not as great as her ability to fix a damaged engine.

v. canada day

Neji sees freedom like the red and white fireworks in the sky.

He isn’t scared anymore.

The world looks down at him instead of down on him. Because there’s this feeling of relief. He can’t think of hours or dates, only knows what today is because otherwise, there wouldn’t have been fireworks. He wants this to last forever, or at least as long as he can.

When Tenten and Lee told him that his money was time, not luxury, he completely understands it now. He doesn’t need the luxury of a roof anymore, good food, or clothes. Because in the end, the only thing they need to make this go on forever is gas and basic necessities.

He likes freedom, much more than he ever thought he would.

#nejiweek2020 #team gai #neji #neji hyuga #au #raspberryfanfics

15 notes · View notes

danetobelieve · 4 years

Text

Don’t Overlook The Little Things || Rio and Winston

When: the evening of 03/07/2020 Who: @3starsquinn & @danetobelieve Where: Various Summary: Winston and Rio give Ricky the house for the night. Warnings: N/A

Winston had been on a few shitty dates before. None of them memorable enough to be anything more then a speed bump in the rocky road to love. Despite that however, they were convinced that they were going to do everything that they could to make this good for Orion. After the week that they had had, plus the fact that Ricky had asked for the house that evening, well Winston was going to do what they could to keep them busy. They had it all planned down to a tee. Their old car sucked, apart from the fact that it was abnormally large. Too large to be good for driving, or even really too large to be useful. But for once this would be a good thing, so as Winston double checked everything, they turned to find Rio leaving their house. They were a bit early, but Winston was ready. Had been ready for the last hour and had been frantically checking everything over. “You ready?” they waved and quickly made their way over to him. He was healing amazingly, maybe that was his physiology but Winston was glad. They hated to see him in pain and the cuts and bruises were an uncomfortable reminder of what Orion had been through. “I’ve got everything we need for a fun night of avoiding hearing our favourite roommate have …” they looked around mockingly, “S … E … X.” Each letter was spelled as if this were taboo. Teasing Ricky was Winston’s favourite passtime, especially when he wasn’t there. “I’m kidding of course, we’re gonna have fun. I promise.”

Despite what had happened that week, or maybe because of it, there was absolutely nothing Orion would rather do tonight. Rio and Winston had not had a change to hang out alone since the kiss. Even Winston’s time in the hospital was mostly populated by a revolving door of guests coming to visit. And now… well was hanging out even the right word anymore? Or was this more of a date now? Rio wished that he was more up to date with terminology than he was. But part of taking it slow meant exactly that, not rushing into any serious labelling or expectation. This could be just like any other time that the two hung out before that party. More hand holding wouldn’t be bad though. Rio’s body still felt sore, mostly around his chest and stomach, but getting thrown into a tree would do that to a person. The swelling in his cheek had gone down at least, and his black eye had even started to fade. A tiny bit at least. As long as Winston wasn’t suggesting the two go out hiking or kickboxing tonight, Rio should be fine. “I am beyond excited! To hang out with you of course and mostly to avoid hearing Ricky’s night. My ears are way too sensitive for that.” He grinned at Winston, skipping a few steps ahead of them and resting his arm on the passenger side car door, “So, have you already picked out where we’re going? You seem pretty confident right now. Like you already have a plan in place.” Whatever that was, Rio was excited for it. It didn’t matter what it was, as long as he was with them.

Fiddling with their glasses, Winston shrugged and smiled gently. “I do have a plan for tonight, I would think that the fact that i’ve pre-packed the car but not told you anything about it would let you know that. But for this to work, you’ve got to tell me what your favourite drive thru food place to go is, doesn’t matter what it is and you can’t think about it. Just tell me what you want to eat and we’ll stop by on the way.” Winston knew that they had snacks -- they had a cool box full of literally any sort of drink that Rio could want and another full of every snack that they could think of and a few more that they had blackmailed Ricky into baking for them -- but if this was a date then they needed dinner too and since Ricky was going to potentially be busy for a while, Winston wanted to make sure that they had lots to do. “I hope that my humble plans are going to be up to the excitement and anticipation that you’re falsely experiencing. In fact, just whatever you think we’re gonna do, tone it down by one hundred.” Winston grinned. “Because it’ll probably suck, low low low expectations.” ‘

“That’s a lot of pressure on me” Orion whined, but did as instructed. No thinking. And definitely no overthinking, as Rio so often did. Just say something. “I could really go for like a ridiculously large burger right now. And fries.” He nodded. Pretty basic as far as food options go. And certainly something that Rio should be tired of by now, but he was the one that had just been traumatized by trolls in the woods. And Winston seemed eager to go with whatever Rio wanted. “I’m very intrigued by what you have in mind by the way.” Rio climbed into the car and settled in, eyeing all the different things in the back and studying them curiously, head tilting as his mind tried coming up with ideas, “This is all very suspicious.” Rio stated, glancing back over at Winston who seemed to be purposely trying to keep any emotion off of their face to avoid spoiling it. “I have way more faith in you than you seem to,” Rio flicked Winston’s arm and settled back into the passenger seat, “But regardless, I’ve never done anything like this before. So there aren’t any expectations anyways We could be driving to an empty field to just sit in your car and it would be pretty freaking awesome.” What could possibly be bad about spending time with Winston? “Do I get a hint? Or am I stuck completely in the dark? I already know the answer of course you’re keeping me in the dark. Because you love torturing me.” But Winston was really cute with that annoying grin on their face. Maybe Rio should tell him that. Ariana said that Rio should talk about it more. And despite how awkward it sounded… wasn’t this exactly what the two had spent five hours in a Ferris Wheel talking about? “In a cute way I mean. You torture me cutely. Or you’re cute and torture me. Or something flirty.” Did Rio just say flirty? Oh god.

“Al’s it is,” Winston said as a cold familiar sense of sadness at the thought of that place washed over them. Winston pushed it away. They hadn’t even really known Celeste, only by association to Ariana. She wouldn’t want that from them. “I’m definitely going to get a shake too.” Winston slipped their keys into the ignition and turned them. The engine rolled over once, then twice before roaring into life. Winston thanked whatever gods they didn’t believe in and smiled. “With this car, you can never be too sure that you’re going to actually get it started,” Winston smiled gently with fondness at the nostalgia that the car that they and their siblings had all learned to drive in, passing it from one to the other until Winston inherited it eventually. “I know that you’ll like it.” Winston had seen Rio say that they would love to do it once before, a while ago, online and it had stuck in their mind. “Okay, I am not going to make you sit in my car in a field that would be very lame,” Winston pulled out onto the main road and began the drive over to Al’s, mouth already watering a little at the thought of milkshakes. “Okay, okay, let me try and think of an appropriately cryptic clue. This is something that is kinda cliche, you can only do it at night and it’s basically a horror trope at this point, or a coming of age teenager movie trope, something like that.”

Orion was happy with Al’s. Since it was open all the time, Rio found himself stopping there on multiple occasions to grab food after a Scribe building purge. Aside from that one time that Winston’s mime clone had fireballed Rio through the window, he mostly had positive experiences with the place. Of course, he had heard about Celeste, even if he had never met her in person. She sounded like a good person. A hunter that Rio would have gotten along with. He just wished that things had not turned out the way that they had. It wasn’t fair, what had happened to her or what was taken from Ariana. “This car is fiiiiine” Rio dragged the word out as he tried to convince himself that the car really was in good shape. “The good news is, I know a great mechanic. Alain can fix anything.” So Winston was confident that Rio was going to like the surprise. “It would not be lame. Nothing with you is lame.” Rio was completely confident that they two would have a lot of fun hanging out in an empty field, but he was excited to see what Winston actually had in store for them. The hint left Rio scoffing, “A horror movie trope? That’s romantic.” Rio joked, lightly rubbing at the pain in his side that erupted anytime he laughed or breathed too heavily. “Are you taking me to a summer camp? Some old haunted mansion? The catacombs? That’s horror movie material for sure. You know one of the first horror films ever made was about a haunted mansion? It was this French silent film called Le Manoir du diable. It translates to The House of the Devil, but was released in the US as The Haunted Castle. The whole thing was like two and half minutes long. So uh- pretty short.” Winston pulled into Al’s so the two could get their food and head towards… wherever they were going. Rio settled on a double cheeseburger, fries and a chocolate milkshake. A classic. As they left the parking lot, all Rio could smell was the food. “I’m so excited to eat. I haven’t had an appetite for a few days now and uh- hunter’s need more energy than normal.”

“Alain has tried to fix this car, but it’s not really worth the money it would cost to fix it and I’m not looking for a new car right now.” Winston could’ve bought a new one with the money Lydia gave them, Deirdre had even offered to buy them one but Winston wasn’t ready for it yet. Soon they were sure that they would have no choice when Winston’s piece of shit broke down. “I think it would be pretty boring, no offence, but there’s a limit to what you can do in an open field, not when there’s other things we could be doing, but you know if the field sounds more appealing then I can change our plans.” Winston smiled gently, they had never tried to be romantic before and this was a new stroke for them. “Well, you’ll have to let me know.” Winston paused for a second and laughed. “No, none of the above. Although, I didn’t know that the french were the people to coin the original horror movie, somehow the country to invent mimes being the country to release the first horror movie seems oddly fitting. Was The House of the Devil the home to mimes by any chance?” Winston smirked gently as they approached, Winston all but copied Rio’s order before pulling off towards Overlook.

Orion nodded, happy that Winston was content with the car. “Well I love this thing.” He agreed, patting the dashboard affectionately. Winston joked with Rio, threatening to change the plans and drive them both to an empty field. “Don’t you dare. I want to do whatever you had planned. Don’t make me beg. I have no shame.” Rio crossed his arms to feign pouting. Thankfully, they weren’t going to any of those places. Which Rio would totally have pretended to enjoy if he had to. “No mimes involved, I don’t think. Just the devil. So not nearly as terrifying as this town, honestly.” Rio shrugged, unsurprised that White Crest took the award for most terrifying. Winston was driving them out of town. His mind started racing with ideas. Were they leaving White Crest altogether? Rio tapped a finger against his chin as he tried to think. The hint finally made sense about a mile from the drive in. The classic trope, a small town tradition and one of Rio’s favorite places in town. “Holy crap!” Rio perked up, swatting at Winston’s arm excitedly and bouncing in his seat, “How’d you know how much I love this place? Why are you so incredible?” Rio asked Winston curiously, finally breaking down and digging into their bag to pull out a single fry. “I- thank you. I’ve never actually been here… in a car… with someone.”

“Someone has to I guess,” Winston couldn’t help but smile. Rio gave them a warm feeling in their stomach, one that they were honestly unfamiliar with. They’d had friends before but they weren’t sure if they had ever actually felt like this about someone else. “Don’t worry, we were never going to go and sit in a field, even I am not that boring.” Winston grinned as they watched Rio’s reactions. They weren’t ever sure that they had seen him look this ecstatic for something in a while. “I have my ways, but yeah, first proper completely real and legitimate date tonight, I thought that it was probably worth making sure that it was cute and stuff, because … I know things are kind of shitty for everyone right now and I know that you and me are new at this, but, you really really matter and this is my way of showing you.” Winston took a long drink from their milkshake as they showed their tickets and pulled into their spot. “So; we’ve got dinner,” Winston twisted over, unbuckling their seatbelt and popping the lids off of the coolers; “snacks and beverages of your favourite variety. I don’t actually know what they’re showing tonight, I decided I deserved a tiny surprise.”

Orion couldn’t believe that this was the place that Winston had chosen, of all places. It had been sort of a safe haven for Rio growing up. Before he went back to the Scribe building and had nowhere to go, Rio would often come here to pass the time when he didn’t want to go home. And when he didn’t have the extra money to get in, he would hang out in the forest outside of the Overlook, listening to the movie instead of watching it. But as amazing at this was, the most exciting thing about the night by far was the fact that Winston had just used the word date. This totally was a date. That was real. “This is incredible. Really. You literally could not have picked a better place.” He didn’t care that bouncing up and down hurt his ribs, he was too excited to give in to the pain right now. “Wait have you never been here before?” Rio turned, excited that he got to be here for their first experience with it, if so. “I used to walk here, hang out by the concession stand and watch some of the movies or- sometimes I’d just listen to the movies from farther away.” They were mostly happy memories, despite how sad they may have sounded. “Friday’s are uh- romance. Ironically.” Rio laughed nervously. Rio couldn’t understand why it made him so nervous to think about the word romance. Especially after how excited he got when Winston said date. Maybe because romance sounded more serious. “But I don’t know what movies will be playing.” He readjusted to try to get more comfortable, taking a big gulp from the milkshake and grabbing their food from the takeout bag and handing Winston’s off to them. “Actually, before the movie gets started. There was something I wanted to ask you about?”

Raising an eyebrow slightly, Winston shook their head. “My siblings love this place, this was where they would all take their various boyfriends, girlfriends and partners when they were living at home and dating people, but I never really did that and never really had anyone else to go with. If we were gonna watch a movie with Nell or someone I watched it at theirs, but this is better.” Winston reached over and took Rio’s hand in their own now that they didn’t have to use them both to drive. Their fingers slipping easily into the gaps in Orion’s hand. This was going way better then they’d thought it would already and Winston hoped nothing went wrong. “I just wanted to make sure that this was really special, cause, you matter.” Raising an eyebrow again, a smile creeped across Winston’s mouth and they couldn’t help but laugh. “Fridays are for Rio, Saturdays are for the boys or something like that?” They didn’t mind. Romance movies was something that they could stomach and if it was with Rio then it would definitely be worth it. Taking their burger off of Rio, Winston smiled and nodded. “Okay, sure, no problem at all. What’s up?” they ate a handful of fries waiting for Rio’s question.

“I used to come alone,” Orion admitted, slightly embarrassed by the fact. “I know Drive-in’s aren’t exactly like a… come by yourself sorta place. So it was a little weird. But it was something to do at least.” He wondered for a moment how life would be different if he had started making friends before graduation? What if Rio and Blanche had found a way to talk during high school? They had shared enough classes. What if Winston and Rio had met? Would things be any different than they are now? Rio didn’t think it was worth the risk. For everything that seemed to be going on around them, he wasn’t willing to trade his friendships for anything else. Those ‘what if’s’ didn’t really matter when Winston reached over to slip their hand into Rio’s. It had quickly become one of Rio’s favorite things to do, hold Winston’s hand. Without thinking, Rio’s thumb began caressing the spot where it met their hand. Who knew something as simple as this could feel so intimate? “I really don’t think you could have picked a better spot, seriously. This place is really special to me. And so are you, so it just sort of… works. Y’know? And I really, really like that analogy.” Romance was for Rio? Yeah, he really liked the sound of that. The question that Winston was now waiting for had been weighing on Rio’s mind for a while. It seemed almost moot. Rio and Winston were already doing the work. But it felt like something Rio wanted to make official, “So you’ve been helping me a lot. With the Scribe records. I was thinking… What if we tried to make it official? Like… you and me. Scribes. Trying to use all that crap to help people.” Rio didn’t know what he was saying, mostly. He didn’t know how to try to send a professional or make it seem like it was a legitimate thing. Because honestly it wasn’t. “Not that I can offer you anything. Or like make it official, since the Scribes don’t technically exist. But if we can get the place up and functioning again… we may be able to help others.”

“Rio, at least you were hanging out at Overlook. I used to hang out at quarters alone and I have a few of the high scores but not enough to really cover the amount of time and money that I spent there alone, but my point is that you can do things on your own, even if its a little weird. As long as you enjoy it that is what matters.” Winston gave Rio a warm smile. Squeezing his hand gently as they used their free hand to fish out a handful of fries and stuff them into their mouth. Winston chewed on the warm fries (amazed they hadn’t cooled on the drive over) and swallowed a mouthful of warm potato in silence. Damn this shit was good. Al’s always had been. “Can … can you do that?” Winston asked slightly confused. They would love to do that. They would love to work with Rio and restart the scribes but they were not sure that the scribes could just be restarted but if Rio thought they could then Winston would definitely follow his lead. “Ultimately, if the scribes are … well they’re not around, then I guess we can do whatever we want.” Winston chewed their food for a second more before nodding. “I’d love, love, love to do that, really I would. We can actually help people and we can use all of this knowledge and research….” Winston paused for a second, “I have a few people who might be able to help us too and we could start to bring people back into the fold, we’ve done so much work on the Scribrary anyway that we might as well get other people in there too…” Winston smiled. “Yeah, I’d, really really like that. I’m in.”

Could Orion do that? “Almost certainly not” He laughed, taking a big bite from his burger and waiting to finish chewing before talking again. “But nobody has come back there. Not a Scribe at least. That place is ours, as far as I’m concerned.” Rio had been dwelling on this for a while. He had always written off the idea. He couldn’t do something like that. Not alone. But now, maybe they actually had a chance. “I think so too. Once we get things functioning again… and once we figure out how to help we may need more help.” Rio had a couple of ideas himself on who could potentially be brought in. Maybe the two could actually help. And Rio wanted things to be different than how it used to be, back in the day. “Also, full disclosure? I hate computer science.” Rio giggled, so happy that Winston had come into his life. In all contexts. “The only reason I double majored in it was so I could learn how to digitize this place. And then you showed up that night and…” Rio trailed off, thinking about how much things in Rio’s life had changed since then. “That was probably one of the best nights of my life, y’know? And you changed everything for me. And I can’t thank you enough for helping with the scribe stuff and taking me in and being my friend and… well this” Rio raised their entangled hands to emphasize exactly what he was talking about. Rio knew it was romance night, but he had sunk himself into some super sappy territory. Was all that talk too serious for them? They were trying to take things slowly, after all. To force himself into shutting up, he inhaled a dozen fries.

“Oh good, I’m glad that we’re sure about your authority on this,” Winston replied dryly before bursting out laughing, “sorry, this is just surreal. We’re sat in my car, on a date, discussing my potential acceptance into a secret order of academics that doesn’t exist but left behind a secret magic library that we’re digitising because they were boomers.” Winston grinned ruefully. “Damn, I’d have laughed too if you’d told me that this was how it was going to go a few months ago.” Winston smirked a little and nodded. “Sure, we can totally do that, I might not be able to put as much time in as before though, I never really announced it but I kind of got a new job at the station. I’m not actually an intern anymore, I’m officially a Cyber Forensics Technician for the WCPD. Well. THE Cyber Forensics Technician. There’s only me.” Winston shrugged and nodded as Rio spoke. “I’ll do the computer science part, now that I can sort of use magic on it I’m just getting faster then I was before, I actually managed to remotely access a computer with it the other day. If I can really work it out digitising the rest of the library shouldn’t take ten years. Maybe like eight, five if we’re really lucky.” Winston smiled contentedly at Rio’s raised hand and their own. “That night was … the luckiest of my life, you know the night before that I’d woken up in an abandoned mansion out in the middle of nowhere with someone who claimed to be an aura reader, turned out I’d sleep walked and stole a bunch of leprechaun gold too. That night was much less fun then waking up to you.”

Orion attempted a stern look at Winston, but was still laughing “Ha ha. Very funny! I basically came into ownership of the place. Sorta. Kinda. Unofficially. But there’s no one to tell me I don’t have the authority either so…” Orion shrugged, letting the sentence finish itself. “Yeah it’s uh… pretty wild stuff, right? But you definitely found a way to make it sound even more insane so good job there.” Rio gave a small, celebratory clap for them as if actually congratulating them for something. “Oh no worries I don’t exp-” Rio paused, realizing what Winston had just said. A giant grin widened across Rio’s face and began bouncing up and down again. “Oh my god! You did? That’s so exciting! Holy crap!” Rio’s ribs really hate him right about now, but they could shove it. This was way more important than that. “That’s incredible. And sounds like a lot of work. And obviously I don’t expect you to devote all your time to it. I can’t pay you or anything so it’s more of a hobby than anything else.” Despite the new job and how busy Winston must have been, they were still planning on taking time to help Rio with this stupid passionate project. Could they get anymore incredible? Probably. “You- I’m sorry what?” Rio laughed again, processing all of Winston’s story about the sleep walking. “I can’t believe I’ve never heard that story before. An Aura Reader? Were they being legit? If so.. That’s super cool.” But it was so heartwarming to hear that Rio wasn’t the only one that found that night so special. Even if it was more or less a complete disaster. “I… was a complete wreck. That entire night. You were so cool when we met at Skylar’s… and without her as a buffer I barely knew how to even talk to you. And then building was still a pitch black nightmare too. It was… well I appreciate all you’ve done. For that place and me.”

“We spend so much time in that place and I always forget that you didn’t find it while sleep walking. It’s really amazing if you think about it, how many people are in the situation that we are and are able to find magic library that has the answers to most of our questions about the supernatural?” Winston smirked to themselves for a moment before grinning. “Yeah, I did, I didn’t really want to make a big deal about the new job with everything going on, it didn’t feel that important. But this has been, well this is the first step of really living out what my dream as a kid was and honestly now that I’ve started I’m not going to stop or anything, but I think I could probably do more good helping you as well, that way I can help normal people who don’t know about everything that is going on and I can help us with all of the bullshit that White Crest throws our way.” Winston frowned gently and shrugged. “I don’t know if they were bullshitting me or not, but they knew I was a spellcaster back when I barely knew what being one of those was and was incredibly far from competent at it, so I think there must at least be some truth there.” Raising an eyebrow, Winston laughed. “Honestly, don’t thank me too much, I didn’t enjoy reading all of those dusty books by torchlight.” Winston was obviously joking, but the way Rio put it made them sound like they had done it because they were a saint. It hadn’t been that. Rio had just made them want to help, they wouldn’t have had it any other way.

“Yeah, me too sometimes. But I know. It’s just luck that I know about it, honestly.” Honestly, Orion didn’t think about his uncle much anymore. Way less than he used to. He hadn’t seen the man in so long so that it was getting harder and harder to remember a lot of things about it. Rio wasn’t sure if he’d ever even see the man again, but he has the Scribe building at least. Those memories were safe. “It is absolutely important and a big deal! I’m so proud of you! That’s incredible.” Winston was getting everything they deserved. Rio squeezed Winston’s hand a bit tighter and finished off his shake. Rio wished he had saved it for the movie, but he had always had a bad habit of eating and drinking way too quickly. “I’m going to continue shamelessly thanking you nonstop. You can’t stop me. Plus, I can’t believe you didn’t like that super dark mood lighting?” He broke the grasp for a minute to reach behind into the back and grab a soda from the cooler. Once he popped the top open and took a long drink, he reunited his hand with theirs. “I guarantee whatever movie plays is super old and bad, fair warning. But totally worth it.”

“Well, however we want to call it, luck, fate or even divine intervention, it doesn’t really matter because it got me to meet you and I wouldn’t have had it any otherway.” Winston flashed Rio a bright smile before shrugging. “I know, but when I brought someone back from the dead, stopped the world from ending because it was eaten by a giant squid and also have been working 24/7 since mid-march, well the promotion just didn’t really feel like a priority. I haven’t told many people but the new jobs really good. It’s finally something I can help with.” The movie was starting in the background and Winston wasn’t really sure what the protocol for watching a movie on a date actually were. Was there an expectation to kiss? Did they talk all the way through it? Winston didn’t recognise the romcom that was playing in the background but it didn’t really matter when they were here with Rio. They were holding hands and for now that was enough for Winston, adjusting their position so they were more comfortable, Winston did their best to slip closer to Rio.

Orion didn’t believe in divine intervention, but he knew that Winston meant it as more of a joke anyways. The smile was proof enough, besides just being dreamy. Rio cursed himself for even thinking the word dreamy. “Okay well… you had a busy month. So that’s fair. But I want to be able to celebrate these little victories too. We spend so much time freaking out about the literal apocalypse I want to be able to enjoy the small things with people. Especially with you.” Rio couldn’t stop grinning. Everything Winston said just made him so happy, because he could tell how proud they were. Even if they were trying to remain casual about their accomplishments. “You deserved this and you’re going to do so much good now. On both sides.” Was Rio crazy, or had was Winston closer? The thought both excited and frightened him. But he wanted to be closer. Rio didn’t have any expectations for the night. For the first time, Rio was perfectly fine with not having everything planned ahead. He didn’t need to know what was going to happen. He just wanted to spend time with Winston. “I haven’t seen this one before,” Rio whispered. Overlook was known for playing the same movie multiple times, so it was a relief. Lots of first times tonight for Rio.

“That doesn’t sound like a bad idea,” Winston replied with a smile. Everything in that moment was special. The feel of Rio’s fingers in between their own, the way they almost seemed to fit together like they had been made for one another, it was like they were the perfect size. Perfectly interlinking. Locking together firmly. Rio’s hand was warm against Winston’s skin and as the movie began rolling Winston couldn’t help but float there. Not literally of course. But it might as well have been. “Me neither,” Winston whispered in reply, turning their head, they gazed at Rio for a moment taking a long breath before leaning forward and kissing him. Honestly. Was it the right moment? Winston wasn’t sure. But they couldn’t help themselves. Rio was…. Something else entirely.

Orion was surprised by the kiss. Not so much that Winston had done it, but more by how it had felt. The two had already kissed before, one that had been fueled by alcohol and the general mood surrounding the party they had attended. It had been passionate and fiery. But this one felt different… better. There was deliberate care, a spark that Rio thought only existed in media portrayals of what a first kiss should feel like. It had been a light kiss, but its impact was far greater than that. And Rio couldn’t help but feel like he was some high schooler in a coming of age drama, experiencing a once in a lifetime feeling. Up to this point, Rio and Winston had talked things out and held hands. This was incredible. When the two broke away from the kiss, Rio exhaled a deep breath, not realizing how long he had been holding it in the first place. He paused for a long time, before finally smiling and breathing out words. “Damn.” His breath caught mid laugh, cutting himself short. But as soon as he could breathe again, he leaned back in for more.

This was really beyond Winston’s experience. Kissing people had always seemed like a bizarre fantasy that other people would probably achieve long before Winston would even get close to it. They weren’t a nun or anything but actually having success in a romantic context was somewhat beyond their comprehension. Swallowing, Winston kissed Rio again, and again. It set their stomach into a whirlwind of butterflies that spun up a cyclone in their stomach and yet Winston didn’t care. They forgot all about everything. About all the trouble that they’d been in and about all of the trouble they would probably find themselves in. For the first time in six months Winston was entirely occupied by one thing and one person and it was a luxury that they never considered they would experience again. “Damn.” They replied, when everything was over and they had pulled away from the kiss.

Orion lost track of time. He didn’t care how much time had passed. For all he knew, the movie could have ended and the place was an empty lot by now. All he cared about was Winston right now. Kissing them until one of them had to break to breathe. Rio didn’t know if he was doing it right or wrong, but he knew that Winston was absolutely doing it right. Once it was all over, Rio sat back against the seat, left hand still entangled with Winston’s. “I can’t believe I just said damn” was all Rio could really think to mention. As if that had any pertinence to what had just happened. Everything else just seemed too surreal. He couldn’t find the words to say to capture how he felt about how he felt about them. “Turns out I think I really like this movie? Good memories.” He was still breathing heavily, but his face was flushed and a grin surrounded his face that Rio wasn’t sure would ever go away. “It’s hot in here. I’m gonna grab another drink. And snacks. You want anything?” Rio asked before letting go of Winston’s hand to crawl into the back and secure food for round 2. If there was a round 2 tonight. Rio was in no rush.

The rest of the evening was cute. Winston couldn’t help but remember it fondly from that point onwards. They held hands, kissed, hugged or was cuddled the more appropriate word? Either way. They ate snacks, they laughed, they watched a bad romantic comedy. It couldn’t have been more perfect if Winston had planned it that way and as they drove back, Winston was almost sorry that the night was over. Not that they had to leave Rio’s side, of course that was a nice added bonus.

#don't overlook the little things #p: orion #para #wickedswriting #chatzy para #chatzy

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sparklingpax · 4 years

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Tales From Iacon - Part 1: Kalos

A/N:

-Set in the Aligned continuity! Specifically, TFP :3

-Ik this translates to something like "noble" or "good" in Greek and this is the title because of the character you're gonna meet (just someone I came up with on the spot,,,,please don't get mad if theres already someone like that in TF I swear I did not intend to copy anyone's stuff—) and also because of the "goodness" and "nobility" in the ultimate message of his character's existence, as well as a reference to the idea of the cause for equality on Cybertron and all. Idk that probably doesn't make sense. It made more sense in my head!!!! OK anyway,,

-Please forgive me for typos or atrocious grammar things idk most of this was written at 4 am because I couldn't sleep also sorry if it's incoherent or boring or ooc please have mercy on me I just wanted to have some fun and write about these two because I love them--

-Also this is originally from my wattpad! (@/kunixjiro if you’re interested in my other stories as well) I will be updating chapters as I write them both there and here <3 </p>

-I tried to use to terms that are specific to Cybertronian lingo. Please forgive me if there are any mistakes with the usages; I looked them up and tried to do some research based off a few of the books I have, but then again, I might have mistaken them to mean something else. Either way, pls leave a comment if you want me to explain what something means. Thanks, and I hope you enjoy the story! :D

/ / /

The sky was a perfect, clear blue.

White wisps of clouds floated in the sky at a carefree pace.

Yet, said clouds did not mar the color of the sky—the beautiful, blue sky.

Sitting far below, on a bench in a park in Iacon City, Orion Pax stared up at it. He contemplated the shapes of the clouds, wondering what exactly they reminded him of. Regardless of success in such an endeavor (or not), Orion found absolute peace in quietly contemplating nature around him.

He was therefore contented at present. Right then and there, Orion would have been more than happy to stay for centuries to come.

The sky is, after all, endless. Much more than what his small optics could see was beyond.

That thought alone excited his scholarly curiosity. Planets, life, solar systems! So much left to find in such a great, big universe. Orion shut his eyes and smiled. How wonderful it is, this day. Thank you, great Primus, for creating such a lovely place. He opened his eyes again to survey the world presently before him.

Closest to his bench, Orion saw a group of sparklings playing catch. He shifted his gaze to his right, seeing two adolescent bots walking together, giggling carefreely. To his left was an older bot, manning his small "Energon Cube-sugar" station with a contented smile. Someone was reading a book on another bench. Over at the far side of the grass was a dancer showing off their skills to some music as onlookers cheered encouragingly. Outside the grassy clearing, many more citizens of Iacon moved about—to work or to play Orion did not know, but nonetheless, the world was alive around him.

Megatronus is taking quite a long while to show up. I know he is often otherwise engaged with matters in his political or gladiatorial life...though I wonder if he even remembered...

Orion picked up his holopad and began scrolling through his assignment calendar while he waited. Nothing had been updated, so Orion sighed a little and shut off the device, returning his gaze to the sky.

He wondered why he hadn't brought the pad that had books to read on it.

Megatronus...please don't tell me you actually forgot again—

"Pax!"

At the sound of his name, Orion jolted a little. He smiled to himself as he saw Megatronus's large figure striding through the park, across the clearing to his bench. Well, I guess I was wrong.

When the silver-and-burgundy-plated bot reached him, Orion stood up to greet him.

"Still alive after all those matches in the rink?" He joked lightly. Megatronus grinned playfully.

"Still alive after all those exams?" Orion widened his eyes in slight surprise, then they shared a laugh. "Well, I see how it is. I am pleased to see you are well." Megatronus extended a servo.

Taking it, Orion replied, "Thank you. It is good that you are, also."

They sat down.

Originally, Orion had wanted to talk about philosophy regarding the societal structures of Cybertron, which both of them had qualms with at present. However, after Orion had gotten food from the stand nearby, and the pair had begun discussing interesting sights Iacon had to offer...

"I can show you the very store I purchased this from," Orion gestured to the holopad in his hand. "It has a wide variety of tools, as well as a wider range of prices." Megatronus perked up a little at the second statement. "The shopkeeper is a nice, old bot."

"Is he, now?" The gladiator leaned back and stared at the sky, considering whether it would be a good idea or not. His eyes were lit with a strange mix of inquiry, annoyance, and amusement. "Would he permit a lower caste bot into his store, Orion? According to society, I should not be in this city at all, anyway."

"With me, he most likely will." Orion answered firmly. He then frowned. "And don't say that, Megatronus. You and I both know that anybot belongs anywhere they please. Freedom is a basic right of all, is it not?"

Megatronus gave his friend a sideways look, the corner of his mouth twisted into a wry smile.

"Huh."

Orion sighed, then elaborated a little bit. "His name is Kalos and he has been a kind bot for all the time I have known him. I have never seen him raise his voice or say harsh things. In fact, he's been to Iacon once or twice, and he and Alpha Trion are friends."

As he spoke, Orion realized just how silly it was starting to sound—that he would know just how a lower-caste bot like Megatronus would be received at an upper-caste level store in Iacon. As an archivist at Iacon Hall of Records, as well as a scholar, it would stand to reason Orion had never seen Kalos be disrespectful or harsh to him—even if Orion was still not part of the upper-caste classes. It was true that he was not explicitly owed respect as per the society's standards.

However, it wasn't impossible that the people of Iacon were kind souls on their own.

I feel as though he is a kind bot regardless of caste. Things could still go well.

"I suppose the only way to know is to go and see for oneself." Megatronus's voice pulled Orion out of his thoughts. He turned to see Megatronus standing up. "Lead the way, Pax."

Orion nodded, smiling a little himself as he rose from the bench. "If we get in with no trouble, I can use my card to get something for you. After all, you traveled such a distance to meet me and I earned a little from —"

Megatronus laughed a little, placing a servo on his friend's shoulder.

"If we get in. Though..." He paused as if to say something, then shook his head. He patted Orion's shoulder gently. "Thank you just as well, Orion."

The young archivist tapped Megatronus's arm as a return gesture. "Anytime, Megatronus."

/ / /

As it was a rather calm day on the streets, Orion and Megatronus met little traffic of people as they walked, all the while discussing mostly inconsequential things. They arrived at the threshold of the store within about 4 units.

Upon reaching it, Orion immediately drifted from Megatronus mid-speech to go stare at the display window. He remembered that Kalos often put in updated editions of things or entirely new items behind the glass, and wondered if there was anything new today.

Megatronus raised an eyebrow in curiosity, drawing closer to the window. He was amazed by all the little things in the window. Even if he didn't know what they were or what they did, he was still happy to look at the items anyway.

"These are such nice looking things, aren't they?" Orion commented as his gaze jumped from one thing to the next. Megatronus sighed lightly.

"Back on Kaon, there are no such stores as this one. We do not have much there, anyway." He murmured quietly. Nor Shanix enough to buy anything if indeed such stores existed.

Orion immediately felt bad and turned to say something to apologize, but when he saw Megatronus, he was relieved. His friend had a calm and light expression on his face as he stared at the display.

"Go in?"

"Let's."

Orion moved away from the display and walked through the front door. Megatronus followed cautiously behind, shifting his gaze from side to side at the clean, organized shelves and tables.

It was his first time in such a nicely kept store. He was content to be there even for a second.

Even if moments from now, this "Kalos" asks me my profession and I am thrown out for not following caste rules—

"Megatronus, come!" Orion called. He was standing by a small table in the back, upon which a few variations of the holopad he owned were placed neatly beside one another. On a paper below the table were listed the prices. As Megatronus drew closer, he made a noise of interest at the fair price for each device.

Though I don't have enough for anything, these seem proportionate. Not too much, yet not too little. Interesting.

Orion watched Megatronus as he leaned in to observe the details of the pads, then without saying anything, swiveled around to look at the other things on the walls.

He had such a large figure, Orion was a little worried he would accidentally knock something over. But, then again, Megatronus was not clumsy. Orion decided it would be safe if he walked to another part of the store and let his friend browse at his own discretion.

"Ahh, Orion! It is nice to see you again." The kind voice belonged to the bot walking down the aisle. Orion turned to greet the bot, smiling warmly.

"It is nice to see you as well, Kalos. The display outside looked wonderful as always." The old shopkeeper chuckled, patting Orion's back. His plating of many shades of green looked quite shiny, Orion noted internally.

"I had hoped it would! It pleases me that you enjoyed it."

They both turned at the sound of footsteps coming down the opposite side of the aisle. Megatronus was about to say something, but stopped as soon as he saw Kalos. His demeanor changed and became more guarded almost immediately—Orion sensed it.

"Good afternoon. You are Kalos?" Megatronus came to a halt next to Orion. Kalos smiled, nodding.

"That is me, indeed! Welcome to my store. I haven't seen you here before, are you new to the town as a resident, sir?"

"I am not..." Megatronus stared at the ground until Orion nudged him discreetly.

"Ah! Traveling from another city, then! How interesting." Kalos had the purest look of kindness in his entire demeanor. Megatronus took note of this. He could see why Orion had suggested things would go well.

"Yes..." He turned to Orion to see if the archivist could introduce him instead. Orion took the cue and made a gesture to Megatronus.

"This is a good friend of mine from Kaon City. His name is Megatronus."

Externally, Megatronus and Orion remained completely calm, but internally, they were waiting for something bad to happen.

...nothing did.

Kalos, without missing a beat, clapped his hands together. "Welcome to Iacon, Megatronus! Kaon is such a long way, and you have traveled far. Thank you for coming into my store!" He seemed not to care. Orion was relieved, though he did not show it.

Megatronus was shocked, but he simply laughed a little and thanked Kalos.

Minutes later, Megatronus had said his goodbyes and left the store to wait outside. Orion was at the checkout, thinking quietly about how he had been right (and how glad he was that he had been).

"Lost in thought, Orion?" Kalos began working the register. "I know who that bot is." He started quietly. Orion immediately felt his stomach churn. Oh no. He could report both of us—

"I agree with what he says. The idea of true equality and the end of this caste system—I always have. What kind of a world would this be if we were to pick and choose who gets our kindness and respect because they were born one way or another?" He shook his head and chuckled as Orion simply stared in complete shock.

Well...I did not expect this, for sure...

"You're probably wondering why an old bot like me would go with the new order rather than the old..." He handed the bag to the young scholar with a smile. "I think with all the wisdom I've gathered from my time alive, I'd be an utter fool not to see corruption when it happens. And I'm sure you believe the same as me."

Orion nodded slowly. He had an entirely new respect for Kalos.

What a great bot...he really is kind on his own.

The green-plated shopkeeper extended a servo and patted Orion's chest lightly, then drew it away and placed it on his own chest.

"That's all that matters in a bot, really. If Primus gave one to each and every bot alive, then it only makes sense that....Primus meant to say we all belong."

/ / /

Kalos stood at his shop's threshold and waved at Orion and Megatronus as they began to walk away. Orion turned and waved back.

"Thank you again, Kalos! See you soon!"

"Anytime, Orion! And Megatronus," The silver-burgundy bot turned at his name. "Safe travels back home! Come again sometime!"

Megatronus smiled back. He waved.

The pair made their way back to the entrance at Iacon, arriving just as the sun was going down.

Iacon was lit warm gold and pinkish silver as the rays of the sun touched the metal and sunk behind the great mountains in the distance. The sky above was painted a vibrant spray of colors, as if to dance one last time before the darkness of majestic, navy night came upon it.

"Here, Megatronus." Orion handed him the bag. "Don't break it." He joked, a trace of a grin on his face. His friend smirked.

"I'll only bring it when I fight lower-level threats." He shot back. They laughed.

Megatronus held it up to the sunlight, to look at the intricacy of the device. It was very elegant, just as the rest of the store had been. And Kalos...Orion didn't want to tell him yet what they had spoken about, but Megatronus sensed that Kalos was someone he could trust.

As Orion had put it, a true, kind-sparked individual.

"Thank you, Pax. I will take care of this and...try not to break it."

"You're welcome. Thank you for coming all the way here to Iacon. I...hope we can meet again soon, Megatronus." Orion and Megatronus shook hands.

As Megatronus turned to leave, he stopped, remembering something.

"Orion. I do have one question about this..." Orion tilted his head to the side a little.

Megatronus activated it. "How...exactly does this work, beyond activation?"

"Do you mean what can it be purposed for?"

"No, I mean.....I don't exactly know....how to use it...."

Silence hung in the air for a nanosecond or two, and then both of them burst into laughter.

The light of the sky shone on their plating, coating them in its soft, golden, pinkish light as they laughed together over such a silly thing.

Together, as good friends in the midst of the brewing troubles of Cybertron.

Laughing at how Megatronus now owned a holopad he had no clue how to use.

18 notes · View notes

avaruussade · 4 years

Text

Taste of the Past

liogueimei | T-rated | 6.2K words

"The thing is that Lio still has some fire inside him. Every now and then it’s dancing in his eyes, painting his features and flaring up. It’s not hot or cold anymore, and it probably isn’t hurting anyone else than Lio himself."

Or in which Lio develops a sweet tooth and uses self defence more than once, Galo worries, and Meis and Gueira hold close the only thing they are not ready to lose.

Read on AO3

When they finish going through the pods and helping the trapped Burnish out of them, they get back to the fire station and climb on its roof to get a better look of the city (or what’s left of it). The fire department itself isn’t that tall of a building, but now when most of the city is in pieces, one can see quite far from the roof. They’re met with collapsed apartment houses, ruptured streets and dark clouds gathering over their heads. “Looks… bad,” Aina says, worrying her lower lip between her teeth. Lio, standing next to her, can’t help but agree. “We’ll get everything fixed,” Galo assures, giving Aina a big smile when she looks doubtful. “There’s a lot to do.” “Sure. It’ll take time for everything to be back to normal, but eventually we’ll have something way much better than before!” Galo says and Lio rolls his eyes. He’s not used to Galo’s overflowing positivity, not yet, but it does make him smile. Lio’s way of living made him a pessimist, and he knows he has to work on that (truth to be told, he has a lot of things to work on, like how he’s supposed to deal with the invisible hands wrapping around his neck and suffocating him, and how to ignore the sudden silence inside his head).

A strong gust of wind sweeps over them and they take a step back when Ignis yells at them for being too close to the edge. There’s a safety railing going around the roof, but no one has had time to check if it’s damaged like the rest of the city. Lio pulls the Burning Rescue jacket he was gifted earlier tighter around himself, trying to use it as a shield against the wind. Ever since his Promare left, Lio has been constantly cold and he’s finding it hard to get used to. He’s exhausted in a way he has never been before, unable to keep his emotions and thoughts in check (he lost his composure earlier when they opened the very last pod and found only ashes inside it, and Lio hates himself for getting so angry over it. He’s grateful for Meis and Gueira being there, physically forcing him to calm down, because if they hadn’t held him Lio isn’t sure what he would have done, considering the state of mind he was in.) “We should get inside. Looks like it’s gonna rain soon,” Aina says, shivering when the wind picks up. The mention of rain makes them move, most of the rescue team trying to fit under the small roof built over the door Ignis is struggling to unlock. The first drops of water are already dotting the roof when he manages to pull the door open, laughing when way too many people try to squeeze themselves through it at once. Gueira is already at the door when he takes a look over his shoulder and stops abruptly, both Meis and Galo bumping into him. “Boss?” Lio is standing under the rain, his hand held out, collecting droplets on his palm. At first he seems to be too mesmerized to have heard Gueira calling him but then he looks up, the expression on his face more puzzled than anything else. “It feels different.” “Huh?” “The rain. It… it doesn’t evaporate.” Galo scrunches his brows in confusion, not understanding what Lio is talking about, but Gueira and Meis seem to understand immediately. They copy Lio, seemingly in awe at raindrops falling on their hands. Galo finds it a little bit amusing but he doesn’t say anything, holding back his laugh when the speechless trio meets eyes, identical bewilderment spread on their faces. “We should get inside. You’re gonna get sick if you stay in the rain too long,” Galo says after a moment, feeling bad for pulling the trio out of their own bubble. His words make Gueira and Meis realize they’re basically drenched, and before they run inside they tell Lio it’s his fault if they get sick, and Lio laughs at them. When Gueira and Meis turn their backs the smile drops from Lio’s face quickly, and Galo tries to hide how seeing that makes worry bloom inside him. -/- Lio working hard for his people doesn’t come as a surprise to Galo. He’s kind-hearted and tired of seeing them getting mistreated and hurt. Before they practically saved the world, everything Lio did was to help the Burnish and provide them a better life. He’s determined to give that to them even now, and Galo admires him for it: Lio helps in the numerous shelters, shoulders every legal charge thrown at Mad Burnish (and gets drowned in paperwork because of it) and pays visits to the hospital to talk with those who are still injured, making sure they’re getting the treatment they should. The thing is, Lio doesn’t seem to sleep or eat. In the past weeks he has spent some nights in Galo’s apartment, insisting on sleeping on the couch no matter how hard Galo tries to offer the bed to him. When Lio stays over, Galo leaves the bedroom door open just in case, but when his alarm wakes him up, Lio is already gone. Lio has dark-purple circles under his eyes, countless cups of coffee and chocolate helping him through his days. Galo isn’t going to deny being worried. So after a shift-change at midnight Galo looks around the fire department for Lio like almost every night in the past two and a half weeks, eventually finding him in the kitchen. He’s hunched over one of the desks, stacks of paperwork around him. He doesn’t greet Galo when he walks to him, but Galo knows he’s aware of his presence. “My shift’s done,” he says, watching how Lio twirls a pen between his fingers. He acknowledges Galo’s words with a hum, eyes scanning the document in front of him. There’s a half-empty cup of coffee next to him that looks like it has gone cold hours ago, accompanied with three empty chocolate bar wrappers. Galo frowns. “Have you eaten?” “Yes,” Lio says, pointing at the wrappers with his pen. “That ain’t what I meant.” “It’s good,” Lio says, matter-of-factly. Galo crosses his arms, not happy with what he’s hearing. “Yeah, maybe, but when was the last time you ate like… proper food?” “I had pizza with you guys last night,” Lio reminds him, shooting an annoyed glance his way. “Okay, we both know pizza is the food of heroes but it’s not exactly healthy,” Galo says with a sigh, taking a chair and sitting on the other side of Lio’s table. “Don’t tell me that’s all you’ve eaten in the past few days? Pizza and chocolate?” Lio shrugs, not saying anything. He’s not meeting Galo’s questioning gaze although he can definitely feel it. Galo lets out a frustrated sigh, the silence between them stretching out. Lio reaches for a new stack of papers, unfazed by Galo's piercing stare. “Okay firefly, now I know!” Galo announces loudly after a few minutes of heavy silence. Lio jumps in surprise, almost knocking down his coffee cup. “We are gonna go to my place and make some real food for you to eat! You won’t have energy to do all of… that if you eat nothing but unhealthy stuff,” Galo says, pointing at the papers. Lio’s eyes follow him as he bounces up, suddenly full of buzzing energy. “C’mon!” Lio blinks. “What did you just call me?” Galo tilts his head in confusion, rewinding over his previous words. His mind reaches the beginning of his monologue and he feels his face heating up. The nickname had just slipped out without him noticing, and the flat look Lio is giving him isn’t exactly helping. “Wha- I- You don’t like it?” Galo knows he’s not really answering Lio’s question (and he definitely shouldn’t answer it with a question of his own because he knows it irks Lio to no end), but it’s the best possible reply he can come up with. It feels like his heart is drumming its way out of his chest as he watches Lio’s expression change into a perplexed confusion. “It’s-”, he starts, clears his throat and looks away, a faint shade of pink blooming on his cheeks. “It’s whatever.” “Great!” Galo exclaims, grabs a few stacks of Lio’s papers and runs to the kitchen door. “Hurry up, then, I’m getting hungry!” Lio shakes his head with a sigh, but there’s a tiny smile on his lips that Galo takes as a victory. He waits for Lio to gather the rest of his belongings and they leave the fire department together, waving their goodbyes to those starting their shift. They stop at the 24/7 corner store near Galo’s apartment to get ingredients (Galo lets Lio buy more chocolate, but only after making him promise he won’t treat them as a meal anymore). The apartment building Galo lives in is quiet around them when they climb to the second floor and Galo unlocks the door to his home, letting Lio in first. “I think it would be fair to tell you that I don’t know how to cook,” Lio says when they get to the kitchen and Galo unpacks their grocery bag on the counter. He sounds a little ashamed, but Galo pretends he doesn’t hear it. “That’s alright! I’m not a chef either.” “No, I mean… I really do not know.” Galo turns to look at him, frowning, finding Lio avoiding his gaze. He’s pulling the sleeves of his sweater over his hands - probably a nervous tick he doesn’t realize he’s doing, and Galo won’t point it out - and biting his lip, like admitting he doesn’t know how to do something was embarrassing. “Let me show you,” Galo says, not missing the honestly surprised look in Lio’s eyes when he grabs his wrist and pulls him closer to the counter holding the ingredients for their meal. “This is something super quick and easy. My mom used to make it to me when I was small.” -/- Although their days at the fire station are less busy now when they don’t have to deal with Burnish fires every day, Galo still can’t seem to get a chance to have his lunch break before 10pm when he’s doing the night shift (it’s mostly his fault, because he might spend hours outside with Lucia trying out her newest inventions or chatting with Aina in the break room without paying attention to the time). He prays the alarm won’t go off when he officially starts his lunch break, looking around the station for Lio - he was in the kitchen just an hour ago, hunched over one of the tables and going through endless stacks of documents no one else really understood anything of. Galo’s plan is to distract Lio from his work for half an hour and make sure he’s eating something else than sweets. Having lunch or late-night dinner together has become a routine for them, and although Lio usually gets a little frustrated with him and tells Galo he isn’t his mom (he smiles when he says it, so Galo doesn’t take it personally), seeing him having a proper meal eases the heavy weight in Galo’s chest. He doesn’t find Lio in the kitchen, and he aimlessly wanders around the fire station, peeking into different rooms before Lucia tells him she saw Lio getting on the roof some time ago. Galo thanks her and heads upstairs, a gentle wind chilly on his face when he opens the door to the roof. It’s in the middle of the night and more than half of the streetlights are still broken, so a bright spot of light catches Galo’s eyes, freezing him on the threshold. Lio is leaning against the safety railing, wearing that FDPP jacket Ignis gave him on the first days of reconstruction so he wouldn’t get cold (it’s a spare one and around Galo’s size, swallowing Lio and making him look a lot smaller than he really is). It looks like he’s holding a single flame, but Galo knows that’s not possible anymore; the flame flickers and goes out, and then reappears again with a faint click. The thing is that Lio still has some fire inside him. Every now and then it’s dancing in his eyes, painting his features and flaring up. It’s not hot or cold anymore, and it probably isn’t hurting anyone else than Lio himself. It doesn’t have a shape and most of the time he can’t control it, at least not like he used to, and it seemingly frustrates him. When there are sparks that Lio struggles with, Galo wishes he could do something to help him, but a part of him is afraid of getting caught in the fire. Galo watches Lio click the lighter in his hand, igniting a flame. It’s swaying in the wind but doesn’t get blown out, Lio’s eyes fixed on its movements. He has taken his gloves off and he hovers his fingertips over the fire, hesitating for a brief moment that feels like an eternity. Then his middle finger touches the flame and he pulls his hand back with a tiny hiss. He still doesn’t kill the flame and instead goes for it again, this time with the tip of his index finger. He manages to touch the fire a little longer than before but eventually his instincts kick in, forcing him to curl his hand away. “You shouldn’t play with fire here.” Lio jumps in surprise and the lighter slips from his hold, falling on the concrete with a metallic clink. He meets Galo’s eyes and for the first time ever Galo sees fear in them. It breaks his heart. “Wouldn’t this be the safest place? You’d be here fast to extinguish it,” Lio says, crossing his arms. Galo picks the lighter up but doesn’t give it back to Lio. It’s a simple one, silver without anything written on it, and still warm to touch. “Where did you get this?” “Gueira and Meis gave it to me,” Lio explains. “They’ve picked up smoking. I tried it too, but the taste’s too awful.” “It should be, smoking is unhealthy.” “It helps them cope,” Lio says, his voice silent. He leans against the railing again, avoiding Galo’s gaze. Galo mirrors his actions, watching him stare at the distance. “Cope?” “You wouldn’t understand.” “Try me.” Lio looks at him with a frown, but it’s not anger: it’s more like a mix of confusion and exhaustion and something Galo can’t quite put his finger on. Lio sighs and shifts his gaze, trying to find words. Galo gives him time. “It’s so quiet now. Quiet and cold,” Lio says after a moment of silence. “I was fairly young when I became Burnish, and I got so used to the voices and warmth. I obviously can’t speak for others, and I know there are Burnish who are happy they don’t have to listen to the Promare anymore, but for me… it was reassuring. Everything about it felt good, all the fire and smoke and heat. You’d get hooked on it, and burning more and creating more flames felt the most natural thing to do.” Lio pulls the sleeves of his jacket over his hands, covering them from the chilly night air. Galo knows Lio has had a hard time getting used to the temperature now that he’s unable to keep himself warm. He hasn’t said anything - Lio doesn’t complain, not even when he should - but Galo has noticed. “Adjusting has been difficult, and I’m not talking just about myself. Hell, I had it easy. There are people who were tortured over and over again, and now they have to live with the memories and scars. That’s- that’s not fair.” “Lio, you almost died.” “So did many of them,” Lio says, his voice stern. He straightens his back and holds his hand out, wordlessly telling Galo he doesn’t want to dive deeper into that conversation. “Can I have my lighter back.” It’s an order, not a question. It carries a heavy shadow that leaves a bad aftertaste in Lio’s mouth, and he fights hard so it wouldn’t show on his face. Galo catches it anyway, mostly because to him Lio has always been an equal, not a leader. “Gueira and Meis wouldn’t be happy to know what you do with it.” “What they don’t know won’t hurt them.” Instead of giving the lighter back to Lio, Galo takes his left hand and inspects his fingertips. Lio tries to protest, pulling his hand back, but Galo’s hold is stronger. The tips of Lio’s middle and index fingers are red but not blistered, probably still hurting from the fire earlier. Galo is familiar with different kinds of burns - he sees them in his job and has had some personal experience, too - and he can tell this wasn’t the first time Lio has experimented with the lighter. The skin at the tip of his ring finger is peeling off, and when Galo looks further he sees tiny blisters all over Lio’s palm. “You should get these treated.” “I’m fine.” “They can get infected. I don’t want you to be in more pain-” “Galo, it’s fine.” Lio’s tone is assertive, almost annoyed, but Galo can still see the specks of fear dancing around his irises. He pulls his hand from Galo’s hold and puts his gloves on before asking Galo for his lighter again. With a sigh Galo gives the lighter back, helplessly watching Lio slipping it into a pocket of his jacket. -/- The construction of one of the apartment buildings for homeless ex-Burnish got finished a week ago, and although there definitely is a need for another building, everyone having a proper roof over their heads helps a little with the weight in Lio’s chest (it’s made of guilt and responsibility, and it keeps growing). He helped with the plans for the first building, visiting the construction site every now and then to make sure his people were getting what they were promised. The site manager in charge of the Burnish buildings’s construction is one of the greatest people Lio has met after the disaster. He’s a man in his late 40s, built like a tank and extremely laid-back. He always greets Lio with a slap on his back that makes his knees buckle and he hasn’t said one negative word about him or Burnish in general. Lio doesn’t know his story, and they will never get close enough for him to hear it, so Lio assumes he’s just happy he won’t be out of work in the near future. He’s the one showing Lio around the construction site two days into building the new apartment complex, accompanied with some workers new to the construction team. The site manager keeps assuring Lio that everything is going according to plan, and Lio has to admit he doesn’t feel as worried as he did when they were working on the first building - this time he can be sure the construction will be finished in a timely manner (he was doubtful for a reason, and the site manager didn’t blame him for it). “Everything’s basically what we did with the first building, so I’m convinced there won’t be any major problems,” he muses, giving Lio a confident smile. “I’m glad,” Lio says, and he means it. It’s refreshing when he doesn’t have to fight for his people’s safety and comfort, and actually gets supported in trying to protect them. His words make the site manager’s smile get bigger, and he’s about to say something when his phone starts ringing. He checks the phone’s screen and looks a little annoyed, excusing himself as he takes the call and walks out of earshot. One of the construction workers lights a cigarette while they wait for the site manager, and Lio doesn’t mind the smell of smoke. He closes his eyes and enjoys how the sun feels warm on his face (it’s been raining a lot lately, the temperatures steadily dropping as well, and fighting against the cold hasn’t been easy). He’s pulled out of his bubble of sunlight when a hushed conversation reaches his ears. “...working on this is against my morals already, do they really have to bring Burnish to the site?” “Wasn’t he part of the terrorist group?” “I think he was the leader!” “The one who destroyed the whole city, huh? He should have just led himself and the rest of the scum straight to-” The edges of Lio’s vision go blurry, and he acts before thinking. He grabs the worker with the loudest voice and the man finds himself tackled to the ground before he manages to finish his sentence. Lio knows not to hurt him - most of the citizens already think he’s on thin ice, and one mistake could send him straight to confinement - but he has practiced enough self defence to be able to throw a man double his size down without causing any bodily injury. The look on the man’s face is violated and angry, but instead of making him scared, seeing it just irritates Lio (what he is scared of, however, is how quickly he lost his composure again, acting on an impulse that wiped his head empty and made him see red). The man stumbles awkwardly on his feet, his shaking hands closing into fists as he sheets with rage. He takes a step towards Lio, but retreats quickly when he sees the site manager coming back, putting his phone away. He probably senses the tense atmosphere and his eyes travel from his mildly shaken up workers to Lio, a question already half-formed on his tongue. “Thank you for the tour, manager,” Lio interrupts him, mentally congratulating himself for sounding somewhat calm. “I think I’ve seen enough.” Lio turns and leaves, barely holding himself together until he turns a corner and knows no one from the construction site can see him. His entire body is shaking and he feels sick, his throat narrowing down as he tries to swallow down the hot tears gathering in his eyes. He’s standing on a public street, painfully aware how in display he is, and the thought of someone seeing him like this is mortifying. He pulls himself together - not perfectly, knowing his anger and disdain towards himself are written all over his face - his heartbeats echoing painfully in his chest. He suspects he’s still carrying some uneasiness on himself when a few hours later he knocks on the door of Meis and Gueira’s apartment and Gueira gives him a weird look when letting him in. “Long day,” he mumbles before Gueira even asks anything, kicking his shoes off and wandering into the apartment. Gueira and Meis moved in only a week ago, and Lio is surprised to see how clean and organized the apartment looks. Like most Burnish, they don’t have a lot of personal belongings but the place is cozy nevertheless. Some citizens and various charity organizations donated furniture and other necessities to the homeless Burnish, restoring Lio’s faith in humanity. It’s going to take a long time for all of them to get used to this new type of life, and that’s why Lio keeps fighting - he wants all of them to finally feel safe. Meis is sitting on the couch in front of the TV, his long hair pulled back into a ponytail - a rare occurrence, since he usually prefers to cover his right eye with his hair. He’s told Lio it’s because he has had problems with the eye since childhood, and even as a Burnish when the rest of his body was able to regenerate and heal, the eye never got better or started working like the other. Unstable vision wasn’t exactly what he desired while avoiding Freeze Force, and covering the bad eye helped. Lio plops down next to him, sparing a glance at the romantic comedy on the TV before deciding it’s something he’s not interested in. “Your hair’s different.” “We were cleaning earlier and it was on the way.” “It looks nice,” Lio says, finding himself enjoying how the sudden compliment brings a light blush on Meis’ face. “Thank you,” he says quickly, trying to look nonchalant as Gueira joins them, squeezing himself next to Lio on the tiny couch. Lio doesn’t mind the proximity since it’s something they’re used to: it’s comforting and familiar, and having them physically there soothes some of the anxiety that has been nesting inside Lio for a while now (it also keeps them warm, although none of them will admit they’re cold). “So,” Gueira starts after a moment of comfortable silence. “How’s it going?” “I manhandled a rude guy today and it made me feel like shit,” Lio confesses, amazed at how relieved he feels after letting it out. “If he was being rude he probably deserved it.” “Did he get hurt?” Meis asks, looking concerned. Lio shakes his head as a no, and the look on Meis’ face softens. “Then I agree with Gueira.” “Yeah, I guess. I just…,” Lio starts, struggling to find the right words. He rubs his hands over his face, frustrated and tired. “What he said made me think how everything is just my fault.” He misses how Meis and Gueira share a worried look over his head. “Nothing is your fault, Boss-” “It is, though.” “That’s not tr-” “Hear me out, okay?” Lio says, a little irritated. Gueira and Meis snap their mouths shut, prompting him to keep talking. “We fucked the whole city up, right? People lost their homes, their jobs, even their loved ones… We did save most of the Burnish which is a good thing, obviously, but I never wanted anyone to die. I never wanted to destroy this city and cause more trouble than I already had at that point. And it’s making me think how I should’ve… protected all of you better. Like, maybe, give myself up instead of making everyone suffer.” “That’s insane, Boss,” Gueira says, unable to hide how horrified Lio’s words are making him, and Lio is too worked up to tell him not to call him boss anymore. “Is it, though? Back then Kray told me I was powerful enough to act as the engine’s core and restart the whole thing. Maybe I could’ve also been strong enough to handle it by myself from the beginning? I could have negotiated a deal and all of you would’ve been safe and none of this would have happened.” “It would have killed you.” “Probably, but maybe it would have been enough for them to get through the warp.” “Listen,” Meis says, his tone unusually strict. He shifts on the couch so he’s properly facing Lio, locking eyes with him. “Even if you would have done that, I’m sure they would have found a way to use the rest of us. They wouldn’t have told you, of course, and that’s because Kray Foresight is not an honest person. All he wanted was to hurt us, and trying to stop him was the right thing to do.” “You didn’t do anything wrong,” Gueira adds, serious yet less stern than Meis. Lio’s breathing is ragged, and he feels exhausted from voicing out everything he’s collected in the dark corners of his mind. Gueira notices how Lio’s hands are shaking and he takes one of them, intertwining their fingers, his touch gentle and reassuring. “I just feel so damn guilty,” Lio whispers, biting back tears. Meis puts an arm around him and pulls him closer, and Lio rests his head on his shoulder with a deep sigh. “Sometimes I think it would’ve been better for everyone if Galo hadn’t gotten me out of that engine in time.” It took Lio several weeks to tell Meis and Gueira what actually had happened in the core: how his flames had protected Galo against Kray Foresight, and how Galo had used those flames to save him when he was already turning into ashes. Lio doesn’t remember much of it himself, the torture his mind and body had to go through when he was trapped in that engine too overwhelming for his brain. He has talked about it with Galo for hours, Galo filling the gaps in his memory and holding him when it brings back some of the pain his mind has tried to hide away. He really didn’t want to tell Gueira and Meis about it because he knew he would break down (and he hates being weak in front of them, even after everything), but they had the right to know. “Don’t say that,” Gueira says, his hold of Lio’s hand tightening. “I’m sorry,” Lio mumbles, squeezing Gueira’s hand to tell him he’s about to crush his fingers. Gueira loosens his hold and runs a thumb over the back of Lio’s hand as an apology. “Everything’s so overwhelming, but at the same time I feel... kind of empty.” “Yeah, sounds familiar,” Meis mumbles, his fingers aimlessly combing through Lio’s hair. It makes Lio feel weird, but in a good way: like the world’s tiniest fireworks were going off inside him. It’s strange and hard to ignore, and Lio will indulge in it later when he’s alone. “Have you done anything to treat it? The emptiness.” Lio thinks of the lighter he keeps in the pocket of his jacket, his fingertips itching. He can still see the sadness and disappointment in Galo’s eyes when he inspected the tiny burns scattered all over Lio’s hand, counting them quietly. What Galo doesn’t know is that seeing and feeling the fire even for a moment brings Lio back alive, unwrapping the freezing cold holding onto him. Lio knows it doesn’t really help, not in the long run anyway, and that’s why he tells Meis all he needs is time (and the two of them, but that’s not what he says out loud, not even when he’s about to fall asleep on the couch and feels the soft kisses pressed over his knuckles and on the top of his head). -/- Everyone in the Burning Rescue is used to Lio’s presence by now: on most days he’s sitting at one of the kitchen tables - sometimes alone, sometimes with Meis and Gueira - surrounded by stacks of papers and chocolate wrappers, a cup of coffee in his hand. Lately it hasn’t been just Galo who’s joined him during their lunch break, and especially after their little night out a week ago they’ve had lunch as a big group in the kitchen. Galo has been bringing extra food with him to make sure Lio eats something else than just sweets, and when a few days ago Lio actually brought a proper lunch with him for the first time, Galo felt like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders. “I’m starving,” Aina whines as their lunch break rolls around. It’s late afternoon and they returned from a job just a moment ago (it was a false alarm, luckily, but it also meant they couldn’t have their break on its usual time). “Me too,” Galo says, his stomach growling. They get into the kitchen but stop at the doorway abruptly, Lucia focused on writing something on her phone and walking straight into Galo’s back. Lio has fallen asleep at his usual table, accompanied by his documents, candy wrappers and an empty coffee cup placed dangerously close to the edge of the table. It’s the first time Galo has actually seen Lio sleep (he doesn’t count the time when Lio was disappearing in front of him, his eyes closed and lips cold to touch), and he considers turning away and finding them another lunch spot just so Lio could have his rest. “He’s looked really tired lately,” Lucia says, her tone worried. “He’s looked really tired ever since shit went down,” Aina adds. “That’s true. I don’t think he meant to fall asleep here, though? He has all his work stuff out and everything.” “Should I wake him up?” Galo ponders. Aina and Lucia nod in unison, so Galo walks to Lio’s table and places a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Hey, Lio-” Galo’s brain can’t keep up with what happens next. Lio has his fingers wrapped around Galo’s wrist in a blink of an eye, twisting his arm in an angle that forces Galo on his knees. He lets out a yelp of pain, and that seems to make Lio realize where he is and what he’s doing: his eyes focus and he lets go of Galo’s arm like it had given him an electric shock. “Oh my god, Galo, wha-! Shit, I’m so, so sorry,” he’s rambling when he kneels next to Galo, hesitatingly reaching for Galo’s wrist before pulling his hands back, almost like he was mentally scolding himself. “Did I hurt you? Oh my god, please tell me you aren’t hurt, I’m so fucking sorry, I just- old habits die hard, I guess? I could have broken your arm, I’m so sorry-” “Hey,” Galo says, recognizing the signs of an oncoming panic attack when he looks at Lio’s shaking hands and labored breathing. He takes Lio by his wrists, effectively drawing his wandering attention to himself. “I’m not hurt.” Tears gather in Lio’s eyes, falling down before he has a chance to stop them. “I’m s-so sorry.” “It’s alright,” Galo says and pulls him into a hug, meeting eyes with Aina and Lucia who are still standing at the kitchen door. He doesn’t have to say anything for them to give him a nod and turn on their heels, leaving the two of them alone in the kitchen. It takes a few minutes for Lio to calm down, and Galo gives him all the time he needs. He doesn’t say anything until Lio sits back, drying his face with his hands, avoiding Galo’s gaze. “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry, Lio.” “No, don’t apologize, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have fallen asleep here in the first place,” Lio says with a sigh, sounding exhausted. “I just… I haven’t been sleeping well in ages and it’s getting to me.” “Have you thought about seeing a doctor about it?” Lio looks legitimely puzzled for a second before he lets out a small laugh, shaking his head. “I can’t just walk to a doctor’s office, Galo. I might not be a Burnish anymore, but most people still see me as one. I doubt anyone would even agree to see me.” “You know, there’s this doctor I saw for years when I had nightmares and trouble with sleeping, and she really helped me. I could ask her if she’s willing to see you? Like, no pressure, but just in case,” Galo says, already smiling. Lio looks taken aback, almost confused, and Galo’s smile falters for a moment. “You… had nightmares?” “Oh, yeah!” Galo says, relieved that Lio didn’t immediately turn down his suggestion. “You know how I was in that fire when I was young? The one Kray accidentally- well, you know. It was my childhood home, and my parents… they didn’t make it. I saw them in my sleep for years, and the dreams weren’t pretty ones. I had so much guilt over everything and it was… it was hard. It’s still hard sometimes, and I have nightmares every now and then. Not as much as I used to, though. This doctor I told you about, she didn’t just give me meds that’d knock me out at night, but she also helped me to deal with the nightmares and stuff.” Lio looks at Galo with a slight frown on his face, processing his words. He had no idea Galo’s parents weren’t with them anymore and that Galo had gone through such a terrible chain of traumatic events (Lio feels awful because he knows what that guilt feels like, how soul-crushing it can be, but there’s also a tiny part of him that gets hopeful when he looks at Galo now, giving him a soft smile, his eyes full of life). “If… if you could talk with this doctor of yours, I’d be really grateful,” Lio says after a moment of silence, his heart aching with something tender and warm when a wide grin spreads on Galo’s face and he bounces on his feet, doing a silly little dance of victory. “Of course, firefly! I’ll text her right away,” he says, offering a hand to Lio. Lio takes the hand and lets Galo pull him up, laughing when Galo uses too much force and he wobbles, searching for his balance. Galo throws an arm around his shoulders and they fetch their lunches, walking out of the kitchen to see if Aina and Lucia are already done with their break. “Hey, Galo,” Lio says when they’ve settled down on the little patch of grass outside of the station, a rare hot sun shining down on them. Galo meets his eyes, already biting down on his lunch (it’s just the two of them: Lucia and Aina were having a post-lunch nap in Lucia’s office and they didn’t have the heart to wake them up). “What is it, firefly?” “Thank you.” Galo blinks, surprised. Then he gives Lio one of his smiles that rival the sun, unabashed and shamelessly happy. “It’s gonna be alright. I know it will.”

#promare #liogueimei #fanfiction

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nappingtopknot · 5 years

Text

The Awkward Call

Warnings: Smut, obviously.

Word Count: 3,970

Summary: Will accidently dials you while he’s wanking to you.

Under the cut for length.

"I love you Will I always have" you say holding on to Wills hand.

"Y/n the truth is I've always felt the same way I just didn't know how to tell you"

"Oh Will!" You say before you jump into his lap planting a kiss on his lips.

You pull back from the kiss to lift your shirt off revealing your hot pink lacey bra.

"Take me Will, take me right here" You practically scream at him.

Will eagerly starts unbuttoning his Jean's. You're now in just your underwear underneath him.

He inserts himself and starts thrusting.

"Oh y/n", Will moans

"Oh y/n!"

"Oh y/n"

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

Will stirs from his sleep, rolling over to groggily shut his alarm off.

He groans mad that his alarm woke up during such a wonderful dream.

He leans over to grab his glasses from his nightstand and rolls outta bed and into the bathroom to start getting ready for the morning.

Down the hall, three apartments over you've been awake for about an hour already.

Your already done getting ready for the day. You slip on your shoes while you grab your purse and head out the door. You lock your apartment and skip merrily down the hallway.

You stop at Wills apartment offer a quick knock before walking in announcing your arrival.

"Will come on were gonna be late!" You shout standing inside the entryway.

"I'm almost done darling calm down" He shouts back from across the apartment.

"You know how busy it gets during breakfast I don't wanna wait two hours for a table"

"It'll be ﬁne, I'm ready to go see?" Will says walking out of his bedroom.

This was a monthly tradition; you would always make time once a month to go to your favorite pancake house and then walk around a museum or downtown.

Will was one of the few people you knew after moving into the city and you were so thankful for him. It was safe to say he was one of your closest friends.

Will on the other hand, had fallen for you.

He always admired you from far whenever you would pass by him in the hallway or mailroom. You always smiled and said hi to him but he was too nervous to ever say anything besides hello.

Will tried to build up the courage to invite you over for some drinks or ask you to the movies but he always talked himself out of it.

Late one night after binge watching a show on Netﬂix you started to get hungry. You ordered your usual from the Chinese place down the street and it was delivered in no time.

After you brought it in and started to open it all up you realized it wasn't the food you had ordered, the delivery driver gave you someone else's meal.

You immediately called up the restaurant and they explained their driver must have got confused and mixed up the apartment numbers.

He offered to remake your order and send another driver out to deliver it but you didn't want to waste perfectly good food so you simply asked for the other persons unit number to go exchange meals.

"307" you say to yourself stopping in front of the door. Questioning if this was weird to do? It's, not right?

You knock on the door a few times before you hear some shuﬄing and footsteps. The door slowly creaks open and you're met with the tall boy you see every so often in the hallway.

"Hi um... sorry this is really weird but I think Lucky Panda mixed up our orders" you say motioning to the bag of food your holding.

The tall boy smiles at you, "You must be y/n"

"Yeah how uh... how did y-"

"The bag, love"

You look down at his bag your holding and see his name in big letters on the receipt.

"Annnd I'm a dumbass"

The tall boy whose name is Will laughs.

He shifts around anxiously before blurting out "I was actually just about to pop on a movie if you wanted to join me?"

"Yeah sure"

You two spent the night watching movies and getting to know each other. Had it not been for that you and Will might not have become friends.

"No, no I'm not even joking! He actually sent her a list of improvements for her to go on a second date with him" you tell Will during breakfast.

"You're joking!" Will responded in disbelief

"No, I'm serious that actually happened. And people ask me why I'm single, dating is pointless"

Will tries to ﬁght a frown.

"Don't even he's is a wanker, there's plenty of great guy's out there"

"Eh most guys are assholes"

"No love, I think you just haven't given the right ones a chance."

"Maybe" you shrug before changing the subject to something else.

Will loves spending time with you even if it's as friends. He thoroughly enjoys your company and as much as he wished you were more than that he just wasn't ready risk anything.

After breakfast you and Will take a walk through the downtown area and walk in and out of the cute little boutiques and book stores.

You're holding some jeans and a blouse, not really ﬁnding anything else that strikes you.

"Lemme try these on"

"Course" Will smiles and follows you back to the changing rooms waiting outside.

You absolutely hate how the jeans look on you but the shirt is kinda cute.

"Hey Will?" You pop your head out the curtain door.

"Yes love?"

"Come here I don't know if I like this or not, I need your opinion"

Will steps closer and you hold the curtain open so he can see without exposing you to the whole store.

He clears his throat noticing your bottomless. Trying his hardest to keep his composure.

You notice nothing because you're too busy looking at the shirt in the mirror, you don't even see his eyes steady on your bum. Will isn't even listening to you talk he's too busy memorizing how you look in those delicate lace panties.

You notice he's not responded to your question, you probably droned on too long about the shirt he stopped paying attention. Guys.

"Sorry, no, I- you're right it is dressy but I think it looks perfect on you" He mentally scolds himself for getting that distracted.

"You're not just saying that?"

"I would never lie to you darling" he says smiling softly.

"Alright ﬁne you talked me into it I'll buy it"

Will had really become your best friend. You value his opinion when it comes to everything. He'll never lie to you and that's what you loved most about him.

After your done shopping you head back home and he walks you inside your apartment carrying your bags for you. Setting them down on the table.

"Hey you wanna come over and watch a movie later?" Will asks

"Raincheck? My coworker set me up on a blind date tonight"

"Oh....yeah?" He can't help but feel a pang of jealousy and betrayal. Even though he's the one too scared to ask you on a date.

"Yeah I'm not looking forward to it but whatever he sounds nice so we'll see"

"I'll take you up on that raincheck" Will smiles trying to fake happy for you, "if you need help getting ready let me know"

"I'll let you know thanks Will"

You didn't actually think you would need his help but you've gone through your whole closet and aren't sure what to wear. You tried asking the girls from back home but no one is responding and

the clock is ticking down.

You text Will telling him you need help getting ready and he said he'll be right over.

Will would be lying if he said he wasn't pacing back and forth in his apartment eager for you to text him for help.

As jealous as he was that you were going on a date with someone who wasn't him, he was at least glad to be the last face you saw before the date. And maybe he can help you not look as hot? Not to sabotage your date, well yes to sabotage it.

You hear a knock on your door from your bedroom. "Thank god" you exclaim.

You run over and open the door for Will.

"I need help" you say exclaim, turning around to rush back to the bedroom

"Well your hair looks nice at least" Will says following you into your room.

He looks at the clothes all thrown around on the bed and laughs, "having trouble?"

"I have no idea what to wear, I thought I did but I didn't"

Will plops himself on your bed. This is the ﬁrst time he's actually been in your room. He's taking everything in, your bedroom says a lot about you.

"Show me what you were thinking of wearing originally"

You nod and disappear into the closer to change. Not long after do you come out in a tight black bodycon dress with a low v neckline.

Will raises his eyebrows. Trying to keep his jaw from falling to the ﬂoor.

"Is this too much? I feel like this is too much?"

Will pauses before speaking, "You look gorgeous, love."

"Really? Like if we were on a ﬁrst date would you think this is too much?"

His heart ﬂutters at the thought of taking you on a date.

"What's your second option?" He asks.

You go back in the closet and come out in A-line dress with 3/4 length sleeves. You give him a little twirl.

"Yeah I think I like this one better" Will says to you.

"Decision made! I'll wear this one"

"Was all you needed?"

"Basically, I've just gotta ﬁnish my makeup and then I'm done. I've got like an hour"

"I'll leave you to it then darling. Let me know how it goes."

And with that he was gone. The idea of you out with someone else made his chest hurt. But he can't be mad at you when he's the one who keeps hiding his feelings from you.

Will throws off his jeans and gets comfortable on the bed putting movie on Netﬂix to drown out the idea of you off with someone else.

The movie ﬁnishes and he scrolls through social media only to be met with a picture of you on his feed.

A selﬁe of you all ready for your date.

Your beautiful face, just enough cleavage in the dress to tease.

How badly he wishes he was the one you were out with.

He stares at your photo. Why did he have to be so attracted to you?

What he would give to run his hands over your body in that tight black dress from earlier. To pull the strap of your dress down and kiss your soft shoulder.

Moving up your neck, your jawline. Before ﬁnally planting a kiss on your lips.

Fuck.

Wills chest feels heavy with lust. He adjusts his position in bed before moving his hand down low into his boxers to stroke himself. To the thought of you.

He remembers the dream he had this morning that felt so real. Feeling you sit on his lap. Moving so that you're now straddling him.

Will can picture you sitting on his lap in those lacey panties from earlier, he sees himself slowly sliding them down and off of you.

Will pulls his boxers down to release himself, springing up. He leans over to grab the lube he keeps in the nightstand.

Pulling the photo of you back up to get another good look before diving back into fantasy land from the very beginning.

He pictures you there with him, teasing him in that dress until you let it slowly slide down onto the ﬂoor.

He's starting to softly pump himself.

Making your way over to him straddling him. He can feel how wet you are for him through your panties. He slides his hand in and takes his thumb to rub circles around your sweet spot.

"Fuck" He says with moan while he continues to pumps himself.

You move down off of him onto your knees to take him in your mouth.

Wills hand now has a ﬁrmer grip as he's fucking himself thinking of you.

"Just like that darling"

You take him fully in your mouth bobbing your head and stroking your breast while he feels himself hitting the back of your throat.

His pace quickens as he lets out a string of moans and cussing.

"Oh God y/n"

Will?

"Fuck y/n you feel so good"

Will?

"That's it y/n just like that"

He's so deep into imagining you he can actually hear you saying his name as if you're really here.

"Will what is going on?"

Your muﬄed voice pulls him from his trance. He wasn't imagining that.

Will is in panic mode when he looks down and sees his phone, he must have accidentally dialed you.

He quickly pressed end call to hang up on you. "Fuck", He says before letting out a deep sigh.

Will doesn't even have time to think of an excuse before his phone starts ringing. Of course, it's you.

He knows he can't answer it. Part of him is hoping you didn't hear anything, that all you heard was muﬄed from being under the blanket.

The phone stops ringing and Will feels like he can relax, maybe try and blame it on an accidental dial.

That is until his phone starts ringing again.

Will watches the phone as your contact picture lights up his screen. He's scared to answer it because he doesn't know what you heard.

The phone ﬁnally dims as the call goes to voicemail. He takes his shirt off and wipes his hands clean on it before throwing it into the hamper.

He goes to open a new message to text you still hoping that maybe the restaurant was too loud for you to hear anything.

He begins typing, "hey love sorry I think i-"

bangbangbang.

She's not?

bangbangbang.

"Will open up I know your home"

Shit.

"Will I have a key I will let myself in"

Giving you a key was a good idea at the time.

He throws on his sweatpants while shouting, "Coming!" Great choice of words Will. Good work.

Will saunters over to the door ready to put on a brace face. As he gets to the door, he feels an immense amount anxiety, he can't look you in the eyes.

He holds the door open and steps aside for you to walk in.

Only when your back is turned does he notice that your wearing yoga pants and a baggy sweatshirt. You walk over to the couch in silence, grabbing onto a throw pillow for comfort.

Will takes a seat next to you on the couch. You both sit in silence until Will ﬁnally speaks, "how was your date?"

You look over at the boy and his eyes are trained on the ﬂoor, "The bastard stood me up"

He lifts his head up at your response to look at you, "He was probably wanker anyways"

"Yeah well better to ﬁnd that out now rather than later" you ﬂatly replied.

Before giving him another chance to change the subject you ask, "Will earlier when you called was I crazy or did that really happen?"

He just shrugs at you.

"You said you'd never lie to me but that is probably the biggest lie you've ever told me isn't it?"

You watch him take a deep breath and close his eyes.

"It's complicated"

"No, it's not you're just being diﬃcult Will, you're going to sit here and lie to my face when all I want is the truth I want to know why"

Will opens his mouth to speak but you cut him off, "I don't want to hear an excuse either. I trusted you Will, you're my best friend I have no one here but you. Is this just a game to you? Am I just your easy entertainment to get off from? Is that what I've been this whole time?"

Will feels the heat rising to his face, a mix of embarrassment, shame and frustration. It's his fault he's here right now if he had been honest about his feelings he would not be sitting here.

He can see the hurt in eyes. Those beautiful eyes.

It takes him a moment to realize you ﬁnished berating him and are waiting for him to answer except Will isn't sure how to even begin to explain himself out from this.

"God Will, you don't even care do you!" You try to hold back from shouting at the boy sitting next to you.

"You know what forget it" you say standing to your feet to leave.

"No!", Will says grabbing on to your hand, pulling you back to sit down again.

You sit back down but Will doesn't release your hand from his. He's holding onto it tightly.

"Will talk to me, Jesus Christ just say anything"

"I-I'm trying, believe me I'm trying, I can't I'm sorry, I'm so sorry I can't"

"You can't or you won't"

Will drops his head down letting out a deep sigh.

"Both?", he responds before releasing a soft chuckle. You really have him feeling so tongue tied.

"Is this really just a joke to you Will, or am I just a joke to you because I'm really starting to feel like-" your sentence is cut off by Wills lips crashing into yours.

He releases his hand from yours bringing it up to your face to pull you deeper into the kiss. Will almost regrets his decision as your lips are still against his.

You feel him hesitate before starting to pull away from you, but you grab onto his shirt to pull him back into a kiss. Kissing him back this time.

You climb onto his lap to straddle him, your arms hooked around his neck holding him close while your mouths dance with each other. Wills hands are all over your body, grabbing at your hips, your thighs, wrapped around your waist.

He pulls away from your lips, pushing a stray strand of hair away and behind your ear. His eyes are starry, full of love.

"I have been madly in love with you since the night we met. And I've been too afraid of saying something because I was worried if I did, and you didn't feel the same then our friendship would be over and I'd lose you."

"Will..." you whisper softly placing a kiss on his temple.

"I'm a wanker, words are hard for me. And I'm sorry for making you upset"

You stop him from trying to break eye contact, pulling him up from his chin.

"I love you too, okay?"

Will nods his head and pulls you back into a deep kiss. Your hands are knotted in his soft hair, completely immersed in lust for the boy.

Both of your soft moans and heavy breathing echo throughout his apartment as your make out session intensiﬁes. Your grinding into Wills lap.

You pull away from his hungry lips to remove your shirt tossing it somewhere behind you before

latching onto his lips again.

"You're... so fucking.... beautiful" Will says in between kisses.

He unclasps your bra kneading your breasts with his hands. His lips move up to your neck, nibbling softly on the skin in between his open-mouthed kisses.

You feel him growing hard beneath you. Feeling size against you is making you throb wanting more than just grinding.

You shift positions gently removing Wills hands from your breasts. His eyebrows knot in confusion trying to understand what you're doing.

You scoot off him backwards until your knees touch the ﬂoor, your hands move to massage his thighs, exciting him.

Wills face is frozen with anticipation waiting for your next move. His cheeks are bright red, eyes full of lust looking down at you hovering over his lap.

You move your hands up to pull at his waistband and he takes the initiative lifting himself up to help push them down.

He pulls himself out from his boxers, pumping himself for you. Biting his lip eager to feel your touch.

Your hand replaces his, softly at ﬁrst pumping his length. He's bigger than you expected.

Taking just the tip in your mouth at ﬁrst. Teasing with your tongue swirling around him.

Wills head falls backwards on the couch, mouth agape from the pleasure and you haven't even done that much.

Watching Wills face with his slacked jaw has got to be one of the hottest things you've ever seen. All you want to do it feel him inside you already, but you're not done yet.

Moving forward you readjust to take as much of him in your mouth as possible, hollowing your cheeks and working the rest of your length with your hands.

This elicits a string of moans and curses from Will, "fuckin hell, love, that feels so good"

He knots his hands in your hair helping guide your pace. This is real, this isn't him alone in his room fantasizing.

Will's breathing gets heavier the more your mouth works its magic on him. He feels himself getting close but he’s not ready to finish yet.

"Come up here darling I want to feel you"

You hastily try to pull off your leggings almost falling over causing a laugh from Will. He holds his hand out to help you steady yourself.

Holding on to his hand you slowly cross one knee over his left thigh, and then the other over his right. Hovering just above his length. Will uses his free hand to guide himself in as you lower onto him.

Feeling him enter you, ﬁlling you up completely, a sharp moan slips out from you both.

Wills arms wrap around you holding you close to him. Your lips are on his neck, sucking and kissing tenderly at his soft skin.

Grinding into him as you ride him, feeling him slide in and out of you as you pick up the pace. Soft moans and more heavy breathing ﬁlling the empty silence from you both.

Will moves his hands down to your thighs gripping them tightly.

"Hang on" he whispers before pulling you up and gently placing you on your back on the couch. He's on top and in control now.

Thrusting into you with a quickened pace, kissing at your neck and chest before moving down and leaving open mouthed kisses on your breasts.

The sensation pushing you closer and closer to your edge.

"Please Will" you cry out.

His hand cups the back of your neck as he holds onto you against him tightly, each thrust making your walls close in on him.

You hear his soft groans and warm breath in your ear, it triggers your ﬁnal wave of pleasure as your thighs wrap tightly around his waist wanting to feel him as deeply as possible while riding out your high.

He feels your walls gripping him tighter as you reach your peak. Wills thrusts hitting deeper, sharper and rougher as he begins to near his end.

Curses mixed with moaning continue from you both as you hit your peaks together.

Will gently lays on top of you, resting his head in the crook of your neck before trailing soft kisses down your jawline.

"Hey Will" you say tracing circles on his shoulder blade, staring at the ceiling.

Will pushes himself up to look you in the eyes.

"Earlier when you said I just wasn't giving the right guys a chance. You meant you, didn't you?"

He smiles softly, "Yes darling I meant me".

#hot dang this was long #will poulter #will poulter imagine #will poulter x you #will poulter x reader

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firehunters · 4 years

Text

July 1, 2018

“Hey, a bunch of us are going to Smith’s Bar in Manhattan after work, you want in?” Sean asked Andrew as he came up behind him to give him pat on the back.

“If I say no are you going to spend the rest of the shift trying to convince me to go and annoy me into going?” Andrew asked.

“I don’t know why you pretend to say no in the first place, it always works out for you. You come with us, you pretend like you’re having the worst time, you go ahead and have a few drinks, you loosen up, about three girls come up to you and start flirting, you take the fourth one home, and have a great time,” said Sean.

“I never take girls home,” retorted Andrew. “I always go to their apartments so they don’t know where I live and they can’t find me later. Plus, I can sneak out of their place,” he added.

“Whatever, you get the point,” said Sean. “Same shit. You in?”

“Yeah, well, you’re going to end up harassing me into going, right?”

“Yeah, usually how it works out,” said Sean with a grin.

“Fine.”

Several hours later—

“See? This isn’t so bad?” said Sean as he came up behind Andrew. They both were at the bar, trying to get the attention of the bartender. “But, hey, before you run off with a girl, you wanna be my wingman for a bit?” he asked.

“Since when do you need my help?” asked Andrew. “On top of which, do you really want my help? What if the girl likes me better and wants to take me home?”

Sean laughed. “I see what you’re doing, but you and I attract very different types of people.”

“Yeah? What types do I attract?”

“You get the leggy blondes who are attracted to tall, mysterious types and have commitment issues,” said Sean. “I usually like the ones who are needy and desperate. Totally different type. So, basically, the ones you avoid but think they have a shot with you, you send my way.”

Andrew shook his head. “Don’t you want to get married? You really think you’re gonna meet your wife at a bar?” He finally got the attention of the bartender. She came up to him and Andrew gave his order and also Sean’s, passing her the cash for the drinks so that they didn’t have to wait afterwards to actually pay. She took it and walked away.

“Where the hell else am I going to meet someone? We live in New York City, man. And I’m not going to sit around at a coffee house like it’s the nineties,” scoffed Sean.

“Very topical reference,” Andrew responded dryly. “Thanks,” he added to the bartender as she brought over their drinks. “Change is for you,” he added before he turned to Sean and handed him one of the drinks.

“You really don’t want that?” asked Sean. “What if you met the right person, though? You were engaged once. You clearly have feelings and you used to have ambition, goals.”

“No, I really don’t want that. Besides, I get it for you,” he said. “You’re in your thirties, you’re going to be forty soon, and you wanna settled down and you feel like you’re getting up there.”

“You’re in your thirties,” said Sean giving him a look. “You are thirty.”

“Thirty. You’re thirty-five. You’re in your mid-thirties. I’ve barely started my thirties. I’m still practically in my twenties. Hell, I’ve been at this job for only a couple years,” said Andrew. “You’re already lieutenant and you probably feel like you want to be married by the time you get to be captain, right? So, it’s like the clock is ticking for you. Besides, if you don’t think that having your fiancé leave you a note and disappear without an explanation for why she broke off the engagement doesn’t give you commitment issues, think again,” said Andrew with a wry smile.

“Ex-fiancé,” said Sean with a meaningful look. “Yes, but if you don’t try, then how do you expect to find the one?” asked Sean.

“Well, I don’t believe in finding the one,” said Andrew. “So, I’m not too concerned about it, to be honest.”

Sean rolled his eyes. “Come on, Dave and Bruce are chatting up these girls. We can’t let them be the ones to find girls tonight. Not without us.”

“Hang on,” said Andrew. “You go ahead. I’ll be right there.” Out of the corner of his eye, Andrew had spotted someone grab the ass of the waitress that had served him. He could see that she looked annoyed, but hadn’t said anything as she served trays of food to the table. He watched Sean shrug and walk off, Andrew moved to the table.

“Hey, you,” said Andrew. “You never get taught to keep your hands to yourself?” he asked.

The man exchanged looks with his friends before looking at Andrew. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Sir, it’s fine, really,” the waitress said.

“No, it’s not,” said Andrew. “She give you permission to do that?” he asked and looked back at the man.

The man stood up. He didn’t quite match Andrew’s height, but he was still tall and even had some bulk to him. Andrew still stood up straight to give the impression he towered over the other man, but he didn’t back down regardless. “What’s it to you pal?” asked the man.

“Well, she didn’t give you fucking permission, did she? And I don’t think she appreciates it,” he growled. “Keep your hands to yourself.”

“She your girlfriend or somethin’?” he asked, letting out a rough laugh. He was clearly pretty drunk, slurring his words slightly.

“No, but see, unlike you, I wasn’t raised by fucking animals,” said Andrew.

“Sir, it’s fine, really,” the waitress insisted, sounding desperate to prevent a fight breaking out.

“You wanna keep going, pal?” the man said.

“You really wanna try me?” asked Andrew.

It was hard to see who had thrown the first punch, but within five seconds, the two men were locked in a battle, the other man already looking worse, Andrew having made his nose bleed and holding him by the throat. The other man clawed at his arms trying to get him to let go, but Andrew held on, as if barely registering his attempts. He was clawing so hard, he had drawn blood, but Andrew didn’t let go. A crowd had started to form around them and Andrew could vaguely hear Sean’s voice in the background, shouting.

Andrew had arms around him, trying to pull him off, but it was almost futile. It was only when security came through that they were able to pull the men apart. The other man was gasping for breath while they took Andrew. “Get the fuck out of here. Go home.”

“Is that how you let your employees be treated?” shouted Andrew while he was dragged away by the two men. “You let them get felt up and let the drunk bastards take advantage while they’re just trying to earn a living?”

They threw Andrew out into the back alley. “And don’t fucking come back, buddy, you’re banned for life.” The door slammed and Andrew breathed out, feeling frustrated. He picked himself up and brushed away whatever dirt and grime he could. He could still hear the commotion going on inside as they tried to calm everyone down. He didn’t move for a moment or two, not really wanting to run into Sean, if he came looking for him.

Andrew stumbled out onto the streets after several minutes when he was sure no one was going to go after him. He had no idea what time it was. He pulled out his phone but realized it was dead. “Fuck,” he groaned as someone passed him on the street and gave him a look. “Yeah, fuck you, pal,” he shouted, the person hurried and walked faster, disappearing around the corner.

Andrew turned around as he tried to figure out where he was. In the dark, everything always looked different. Besides, he wasn’t in Manhattan often, he didn’t know his way around as well. He stumbled slightly still feeling the buzz of the alcohol he had managed to consume, but finding the convenience store on the street had lights on still. In fact, most of Manhattan looked like it was open. Bright neon, lights shown down from most windows, lighting up the streets. Plenty of people were still walking past, most of them drunk like Andrew himself, but most of them probably tourists unlike himself.

“Hey,” said Andrew banging on the glass windows of the convenience store. It was closed, except for a window where people could still purchase items they requested, rather than browsing through the store. “If I buy something, can I use your phone?”

The man inside stared at him, like he wanted anything but to let Andrew use his phone. “Fucking fine,” he grunted. “Drunk bastard— what number should I be dialing?” he asked as he passed a corded phone through the window, ready to dial a number Andrew dictated to him.

“I— I don’t know, I don’t have any numbers memorized,” he muttered.

“Well, what the fuck, man.”

“Do I look like I have my fucking life together, sir?” Andrew growled at him. He paused for another moment as he bit down on his lower lip. He finally gave a number to him to call.

Once he finished his phone call, Andrew gave him back the phone and purchased a bag of chips and a jug of apple juice.

Andrew slumped against the wall as he waited for his ride. Luckily, she was only a few minutes away, out herself and she was pulling up in just moments.

“Get in,” she said and Andrew got up, hopping into the car driven by his sister. “What happened to you?” she asked.

“Nothing,” grunted Andrew. He looked back noticing she wasn’t alone and saw a man in the back seat, looking slightly alarmed by his presence. “You on a date?”

“Yeah,” said Rhiannon. “This is Eric, Eric this is my brother, Andrew,” she said sounding unbothered that Andrew had seemingly interrupted her night.

“Hey, uh, nice to meet you,” said Eric as he cleared his throat, looking slightly nervous. “Sir.”

“Yeah, you can unclench,” grunted Andrew. “She’s a grown woman and can make her own decisions. I don’t give a shit,” he said as he then faced forward once again and began to look at his arms. He seemed to only realized he had even been scratched up.

“So, what happened to your eye?” Rhiannon asked casually.

“My— oh,” said Andrew as he caught a view himself in the mirror on the passenger side and noticed there was faint bruising on his eye. “I got into a bar fight.”

“How novel,” said Rhiannon. “You really need to find a different outlet,” she said. “Every time you go out, you get into something, and when you’re not, you’re just brooding. I know the last few years have been hard on you, with your fiancé leaving you, but it’s not all bad.”

“I don’t want to talk about this in front of Eric,” said Andrew. “What about you? I mean, what happened to Lucas?”

“I got bored of him,” said Rhiannon. “Besides, I’m not the one who’s getting into fights at one in the morning and having to get picked up. We’re just worried about you, Andy. You’re going to get in trouble one day, legal trouble, when some guy decides to press charges and you work for the city. You could put your job in trouble if you keep this up.”

“Don’t call me that,” said Andrew, through gritted teeth. “I know I could get in trouble if I get arrested or have charges pressed against me, but no one’s going to do that. I’m fine, alright? I still go out and meet women.”

“Maybe that’s the thing, you kind of go through them quickly,” said Rhiannon. “You don’t get to know people anymore. I mean, I know you’ve never really been a fan of getting to know people, but you could at least have relationships. Now your only friend is your lieutenant at work.”

“Yes, and he’s all I need,” said Andrew.

Rhiannon stopped as she reached Andrew’s building. “Yeah, well, you have your family, too, you know that, right?” she asked, giving him a a concerned look.

“Yeah, I know, Rhi,” he said as he looked down. “Thanks for picking me up,” he added. He opened the door and got out. “And can you not tell mom about this? I don’t need her to worry any more than she already does.”

Rhiannon nodded. “Yeah, of course,” she said.

“And if you’re going to have sex in the car can you not park here so I can pretend it’s not happening?” he asked.

“Sure,” said Rhiannon. “Bye, Andy.”

Andrew glared at her before he slammed the door shut. He stopped as he frowned, seeing a sign that there was a vacancy in the building and apartments were available for rent followed by a number to call for inquiries. He went inside and got into the elevator as he began to pick at one of the scratches on his arms. He walked down the hallway towards his door and stopped when he realized the neighbor across the hall had his door open, peering inside he saw boxes stacked, most of the apartment already looking empty. Fucking great, he thought. The vacancy was for the apartment across from him he realized. That meant new people, another neighbor that he’d have to make sure to never meet or talk to. Maybe with his luck it would just be another old lady, most of the residents were older and he generally could just avoid talking to them. They stayed indoors for the most part, anyway.

“Hey,” said a man behind him as he walked up. He had some flattened boxes under his arm. He was one of the few younger residents.

“You moving?” Andrew asked as he began to unlock the door for his apartment.

“Yeah, gonna be out by the end of the week,” he said, looking Andrew up and down, his eyes hovering over his eye and scratched up arms. “You okay? Looks like you’ve had a rough night.”

“M’fine,” said Andrew quickly. “You know who’s moving in?”

“I think it’s some woman. Saw someone in the leasing office. Young, blonde, leggy,” he said with a shrug. “They just put that sign up today, too, but I think they’ve been advertising on the internet for a few days now. You know how apartments go quick around here.”

Andrew nodded. “Yeah.” He made a mental note to avoid someone with that description. He opened his door. “Well, have a good night.”

“See ya, man,” said the neighbor as Andrew closed the door behind him. He went to his bedroom, collapsing onto his bed, falling asleep to the sounds of the city.

#solo drabble #drabble

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prorevenge · 5 years

Text

Don't tell mom the dog-sitter's dead.

TL;DR at the bottom.

This didn't happen to me, it happened to my sister.

My sister moved up to SC from FL about a year ago, but she still visits us periodically. We're a big and close family. Shortly after Thanksgiving, she flew down with her husband and son for one such visit. She has 3 geriatric dogs, so she got a house/dog sitter.

MS (my sister) went through the basics of how they can only be fed at certain times. They get let out at certain times. They need to be in their crates from X hour to Z hour. Most importantly, they don't get treats. They get vitamins in place of treats, but those vitamins have to be given only twice a day. No people food. Very strict diets. They're all happy and healthy, but only because MS is so strict with their regime.

This lady she got to watch her dogs had stellar reviews on the site she was found through. She's a stay-at-home mom who does this as a side thing for extra cash. I feel like I can end it here, you all can guess where this is going.

MS left for Florida for a week. The first 5 days, everything is going well. DS (dog sitter) texts MS regularly or video calls. She shows MS pictures and gives her regular updates of when she comes and goes to MS's house. MS just bought that house, btw. She's been working her butt off to finally be able to afford it. She puts so much into making that a nice home for her family.

MS has some health problems herself. She's got a ton of prescription medication in her medicine cabinet. She brought enough for the week, but left the rest at home. Stuff for epilepsy, asthma, and allergies. But she's also got a ton of pain killers from when she had my nephew not that long ago. She's paranoid about becoming addicted, so she kept the pills for safety, but never used them. It's a full bottle.

On top of that, she's been a collector of rare beer for about 15 years now. Beer that's not even sold anymore because they were promotional from micro breweries. Beer she can't get anymore because she doesn't live in Florida. Those bottles, she keeps as mostly decoration in her kitchen.

On the 6th day of her vacation, DS stops all communication altogether. MS texts, calls, emails. Nothing. Radio silence. She's got a bad feeling, but she doesn't want to kill the mood because she doesn't get to see her family very often anymore.

Day 7, she gets on a late flight back to SC. The plane gets there around 2 in the morning. They drive an hour to their rural town. They get home. The front door is wide open. The lawn looks like someone in a truck (which DS happened to drive) just tried to go drifting over grass and a tree before vacating the premises super quick.

MS goes to handle my nephew who is groggy and screaming. It's been a rough day. She's thinking the worst. That someone robbed the house while this poor lady was there. MS's husband (BiL) goes inside to survey the damages. It's all clear, MS and Nephew go inside too.

The back door is wide open. The couch looks like it exploded. The rug in the living room and the couch, and pretty much every square foot on the bottom floor is covered in the kind of pee and poop that can only be made from 3 geriatric furry buttholes.

The dogs are, thankfully, still in the backyard. But they're shivering and filthy. There are broken beer bottles everywhere. Some have been stuffed deep in the trash to hide the evidence. Some have been refilled with water and put back with their tops precariously situated on top so they might look like they haven't been touched.

82 bottles, each growler sized (roughly 64 oz) - gone. The medicine cabinet is like one of those Western ghost town's with a tumbleweed bouncing through. MS is already thinking this DS threw herself a party. No way in heck could someone 5'6'', 170 lbs, drink that much beer and take that many pills and not be dead.

MS called the cops. Obviously. The police get there to figure this must be a break in. They take a bunch of pictures, take an account of all the bottles and drugs that were missing. MS cleans what she can, but gets to sleep because thankfully the upstairs hasn't been touched.

One day later, the police find DS. MS has assumed she's dead and abducted, so the police were looking for her and her car. They found the truck run off the side of a highway, with this lady about two miles up, tweaking OUT OF HER MIND walking along the side of the road, screaming at nothing.

They take her in for whatever charges. Idk. Her husband bails her out and picks her up. According to her husband, this has happened before. DS has a drug and alcohol problem.

At first, she's messaging my sister, super apologetic, saying she'll reimburse MS and please don't press charges. MS quotes her the price of the rug, a new couch, and the vet bills because her dogs had somehow gained access to 9 containers of doggie vitamins and one of them was having liver failure. (The dog is fine now, but she's an old yorkie so who knows. Also, MS buys in bulk from a wholesaler, hence 9 containers). The total was somewhere around $800. MS didn't bother with the beers, the meds, the lawn, cleaning the house. She could have. Heck, I would have.

On top of that, MS demanded DS never dog sit again and she had to refund MS for her dog sitting. MS works in advertising. I won't say what kind, but basically if she saw/sees DS advertising herself as a dog sitter ever again, she has the means to drag this lady until all she sees is mud for the rest of her life.

DS insists she'd gonna pay it back, but that MS has to wait until they get their taxes back. Ok. So MS waits. Late February, she texts DS asking where her money is. DS immediately starts saying how she didn't do anything wrong, MS is a bad dog owner and her dogs are miserable, none of the stuff MS says DS did was actually done. MS has all the old texts of DS admitting to all of it sooo....?

This goes on for a while. Eventually, DS starts saying how "as a courtesy" she has a friend who owns a furniture store, she will give MS a credit of $200 for a new couch. And she has an old rug she doesn't want anymore that MS can have.

Erm... what?

She payed MS about $500, but and insists she'll get the coupon to MS soon. March goes by. Nothing.

Around March 20th, MS marches her happy butt to the small claims court and files. Then she snaps pictures of everything. Then she sends DS the message. "As a courtesy, I'm letting you know that I just filed this at the small claims court."

Then the fun starts. This lady goes OFF on MS. She says she's going to sue for slander and undue distress and harassment and blah blah blah blah blah. MS saves all of it, including the fun bits where DS threatens her family and calls her the C-word 20-dozen times.

Today is what? April 6th? Tuesday was the court date. Things move fast in a small town, idk. This lady shows up looking like she just got run through by a garbage disposal. She gives the judge her sob-story, talking about how she did nothing but give MS and her animals the best care, that MS is making all this up.

Yeah. MS has the OG cop with her. She's got pictures of all the damage, the vet bills, the bottles, proof that she was out of town, police reports of both the "break-in" as well as DS's DWI the following day. DS tries to spin it with that one law about how you can't serve alcohol to a known alcoholic. That obviously gets thrown right tf out.

DS then tries to appeal to Judge and MS's sense of humanity. She tells them how her husband just left her and is suing her for full custody (good!) and that if she can't dog-sit how is she supposed to support herself or ever get her kids back (tough cookies!). The judge takes my sister's side, for obvious reason, come tf on.

DS is homeless now, living with her parents. She can't see her kids, who btw don't want to see her. Apparently she was a drunk who ran her hubby's credit all the way down, she was abusive to her kids, and because of her heavy alcohol abuse - one of her kids has FAS. DS has 60 days to pay the remaining $300 or she faces jail time (idk how much time, sorry). Her husband filed for divorce already. Oh, and she lost her license thanks to that DWI.

As a former addict myself and someone who's been through a DWI, I want to sympathize. That's a lot of stuff to go through. MS gave her chance after chance, but at some point, you have to take responsibility for your actions. It really seems like this lady has just been using her husband as a crutch while she tries to get better, only to backslide hard. It's rough, I know. I hope she gets the help she needs.

MS's dogs are doing well. She got a replacement couch on Amazon for like $75 and a nice fluffy rug for even less. DS eventually coughed up that coupon. It didn't even work. It was for something like 20% off with a purchase of $500 or more, so um...no thanks.

TL;DR: World's poopiest dog-sitter trashes my sister's house after going on a bender. Claims she didn't do that, while also promising to pay for the damages. Never pays. Gets taken to court. Loses her home, job, kids, and marriage.

(source) story by (/u/anoukdaae)

#prorevenge #by /u/anoukdaae #pro revenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #pro #revenge #last10

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