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fictionalabyss · 4 years ago

Text

Saving face with the dicks downstairs.

Pairings : Sam x Reader, Sam x Gabriel, Michael, Lucifer, Raphael, Dean

Word count : 4,144

Written for : @samwinchesterbingo

Square : Fake dating.

Beta’d by : @iflostreturntosteverogers

Warnings : AU. Reader is Michael, Lucifer, Raphael and Gabriel's baby sister. Quick best friends, Sam's in the closet, Gabriel is out, Raphael is a dick, over protective big brothers Michael and Lucifer, especially Lucifer, Dean is no fool, party, drinking, high school politics, almost smut (none depicted in detail, but some faked), threats, Lucifer threatens people, talk of Lucifer being arrested in the past for beating a minor, talk of a past shitty 'relationship', talk of parent abandonment (Chuck and John are similar in the dad department), Sam gets a boyfriend, hint at a possible new relationship at the end.

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Sam Winchester. Okay, maybe not the hottest guy in school, but he had his charms. He was sweet, quiet, good looking and tall. Damn, was he tall. You’ve talked to him before, at school, at parties like this. Drinks were flowing, music was blasting through speakers that shook the windows. And you got lucky enough that when you whispered to Sam that it was too loud down there, he nodded and led you up to a bedroom.

As soon as the door was shut behind you and you had locked it, your lips were on his, drinks discarded onto someone’s dresser and forgotten. Sam’s kiss was reluctant, awkward. You figured it was the shock of you making that first move paired with all the drinks he’d been pounding back all night, so you continued to lead. Guys like that anyways, right?

You started pushing him back, keeping him moving and not letting him go, keeping the kiss going until he fell back against the bed, sitting there, looking up at you with something in his eyes you couldn’t quite read.

Your lips met his again, a little sweeter this time as you climbed into his lap, knees digging into the mattress on either side of him. “Wait.” he mumbled as you pressed yourself closer to him, fingers in his hair and holding him close. “Wait, wait-” He pulled back, and you gave him a confused look.

“What’s wrong?” He didn’t answer right away, and you chuckled. “It’s okay, Sam, I’m sober enough to know what I want. You don’t have to-” as you spoke, you were leaning in for another kiss, but he stopped you. “Do you not want me?” Sam looked down, licking his bottom lip as you sat back against his thighs, giving him a bit more space. “Sam-”

“I’m-” He started to speak but he couldn’t seem to finish.

It was like it clicked in your head. “I don’t have what you want..” you breathed out in realization. Suddenly there was fear in his eyes, his nails scratching against your jeans as his fingers tightened on your thighs. “Hey-” You cupped his face, making him look up, but he pulled his head away.

“Fuck off.”

“Sam-” He shook his head, but you grabbed him again, forcing him to look at you. “It’s not a big deal.” you chuckled softly.

“Says you. Lesbians are ‘so hot’.” he mocked.

“I won’t tell anyone.” You chuckled softly, watching him but not getting off his thighs. “You can trust me.”

“Yeah, right.”

“My brother’s gay, Sam.” His eyes came up to meet yours at the confession. “It’s really not a big deal to me. All you had to do was tell me and I wouldn’t have thrown myself at you.” you smiled at him.

“Didn’t exactly want anyone knowing.” Sam mumbled, picking at a loose thread on the edge of your shirt.

“Know what you need?”

“What?”

Your smile widened. “A fake girlfriend.” Sam cocked an eyebrow. “Look, we’re up here, right? There’s no way that went unnoticed. We’ll just pretend we had a bit of fun. You save face with those dicks downstairs, I get to have a hot date for lunch hour, and I’ll introduce you to my older brother.”

“Just because he’s gay too, doesn’t mean I want to fuck him.”

You laughed and shoved at his shoulders. “To have someone to talk to, you idiot.”

“Why would you do that for me?”

You shrugged. “Because I remember what he went through. We’re friends, Sam. I don’t want to see you as broken as I remember seeing him.” Sam gave you a small nod. “Deal?”

“Deal. So how do we-” he was cut off by you shoving him back on the bed.

You leaned down to whisper in his ear. “Don’t be quiet.” with a grin, you sat back up, still on his thigh, and started bouncing on him. You chuckled at the surprise on his face as the bed under him started to creak and groan with the motion. “That’s it, Sam.” you praised out loud. “Yeah, right there.”

Sam started to laugh, but the look you shot him made him hold it in. His tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip, before he blurted out “Your.. pussy feels so good.” You couldn’t help but snort, and you both muffled your laughs. “Sorry.” he whispered behind the hand he had covering his mouth. “Dirty talk is not my strong suit.”

“It’s good.” you shook your head at him, getting yourself back up right. “It was just.. so weird coming out of you like that.”

“Fuck off. Dirty bitch.”

“Oh! That’s the good stuff. Say it again, Sam!”

“Oh, god.” Sam rolled his eyes at you, but smiled all the same. “You’re disgusting.”

“I’m your girlfriend now, handsome. That means you’re disgusting, too.”

You chewed on your bottom lip as you knocked on the open door. His room was the last in the hall, right next to yours. “Gabe? Can we talk?”

He looked up from his computer, turning his chair completely around as he watched you stand awkwardly in his doorway. “What’d they do, now?”

You smiled at him. “Nothing, I promise.” He motioned for you to come in, so you stepped in before shutting the door behind you. You crossed the room to his bed and sat on the edge before sighing.

“What’s up, kiddo?”

“I uhm. I sorta of have a boyfriend.”

“Oh, Jesus Christ.” Gabriel muttered with a shake of his head. “Mikey and Luci are gonna lose their shit.”

“I said ‘sort of’ Gabriel.” He waited for you to elaborate. “I want you to meet him.”

“Why? Why me? I don’t usually meet ‘em unless I’m holding Luci back from killing them. What changed?”

“He’s gay.” Gabriel’s eyebrows shot up at that. “He’s scared about people finding out.” Gabe shook his head, and turned his chair back towards his computer. “Please, Gabriel? He’s really nice, especially to me. He always looks out for me at parties.”

Gabriel turned to look at you again. “Pumpkin-”

“He reminds me of you.” That gave him pause. “Remember when everyone found out? Mike and Luci didn’t care too much, but Raph, he spread it everywhere and treated you like shit. You cried, Gabriel. Every damn night. I remember it because I was there, I held you any time you would let me.” He sighed. “Please. I’m covering for him, I don’t mind that, it was my idea. I just want him to know he isn’t alone, you know? Please? He’s a really sweet kid and I don’t want them to break him.”

“Mikey’s got work tonight. Luci is out doing whatever the fuck he’s out doing. I’ll tell Raph to fuck off. Invite him over for dinner.”

Your grin was wide when you leapt up and threw yourself at him. “I knew I could count on my favorite big brother.”

“Yeah, yeah. You owe me.” he muttered.

When Sam showed up for dinner, he had smiled nervously at you as he stepped into the house, but once his attention turned to the man who stepped out of the kitchen, he froze, smile falling from his face.

“Sam, this is one of my brothers, Gabriel. Gabe, this is Sam.”

“I’m the favourite brother.” Gabe smirked, hand reaching out for Sam’s.

You smiled, watching Sam as he tried to sneakily wipe his palm along his jeans before taking your brother’s hand for a shake. “S-Sam. I’m Sam.”

“Yeah, I got that.” Gabe chuckled, glancing to you and how you smiled so brightly. “Dinner will be ready in about 10. You want anything to drink?”

“Wa-” Sam’s voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. “Water will be fine, thank you.”

Gabriel laughed. “If you insist, but we’ve got beer, too.” he started for the kitchen.

“Glad I introduced you?” you whispered to Sam with a shit eating grin before skipping off to follow your brother. “Can I have a beer?”

“Hell no. I don’t got a death wish.”

Dinner went well. Gabriel was able to make Sam relax and laugh in no time, but you knew he would, Gabriel had that effect on everyone. Sam was amazed by Gabriel's cooking, raved about it, which just had you wiggling your eyebrows between them and laughing every time Sam blushed bright red.

After dinner, the three of you moved to the living room. Some movie put on that you all half paid attention to. Sam sat between you and Gabriel, letting the two of them talk without them having to talk over you. Sam seemed to be more and more comfortable around Gabe, and that made you happy.

You were all smiling, laughing at some comment Gabriel made when you heard the front door open and everyone got quiet. Your face took on a look of panic when Michael appeared in the hall and glanced in.

He looked from Gabriel, to you, then to the boy between the two of you. “Who’s this?”

This wasn’t good. You were about to answer when Gabriel spoke first. “A friend.”

“A friend?” Michaels eyes shot to you, and he found you biting your bottom lip nervously. “Bullshit.” he spat before heading up the hall.

“Mikey, wait!” you shot up from your seat and hurried after him. When you caught up to him, he was entering the bottom floor master, and he was fuming. “Please, just listen to me-”

“Did you think I wouldn't fucking find out? That I wouldn’t be pissed?” he spun around on you. “I’m fucking livid! You know how we feel about you having a fucking boyfriend, and you bring him here when I’m not home? Are you fucking insane?”

“Mike-”

“What if Luci had come home first, huh? You think Gabe alone could stop him from killing the fucking guy?” Tears brimmed in your eyes. You hated disappointing him, he might be your brother, but he’d always been more of a father to you. “You know how he is when it comes to you. Remember when you were fuckin’ 13? Remember what happened?” You nodded sadly. “You want that to happen again?”

“No.”

“Then tell me why you thought this shit was a good fucking idea?”

“He’s gay, Michael.”

“What?”

You sighed, and wiped at your eyes before looking up at him again. “He’s gay.”

He stared at you for a minute before scoffing. “Yeah fucking right. His ass better be out of here in 5 minutes or I’m letting Luci-”

“He’s gay.” you reiterated. “No one knows. Remember what happened to Gabe when he was in school and everyone found out? Remember how fucked up he was? I don’t want Sam to go through that, so I told him I’d be his pretend girlfriend and I introduced him to Gabe so he’d have someone to talk to. Please, Mike, I’m telling you the truth.”

He kept his eyes on you as he moved past you, only taking them off of you when he was out in the hall and then he stormed his way back to the living room, you rushing behind him, begging him to believe you. “You fucking gay?” the words exploding out of his mouth the second he stopped in the doorway. Sam was standing with Gabriel, eyes wide with fear before they shot to you. You gave him a small nod, letting him know it was okay to answer. “Are you fucking my sister?” he demanded.

“No.” Sam swallowed. “I’m not fucking her.”

“You could stand to have a little more tact, Mikey.” Gabriel scolded.

“Fuck your tact.” Michael spat at him, still worked up.

“Mikey, please..” you moved around him, stopping in front of him and doing your best to play on his heart strings. “You can tell Luci if he swears to keep it quiet, but Raph can’t know. You remember how much of a dick he was to Gabe, he’s an asshole and I don’t want to risk it. If you and Luci seem okay with it, he won’t do shit about me and Sam.”

Everyone was quiet for a minute, Michael’s eyes burning into Sam and Gabriel, then he looked down at you. Before he could say anything, the door opened and Raphael strolled in. “Am I allowed in my own fucking house now?” he asked as he slammed the door behind him. “What’s going on?” When he looked into the living room and saw Sam, he furrowed his brows. “Who the fuck is this?”

“Please, Mikey.” you begged.

“Oh shit!” Raph’s face all but lit up. “I got kicked out so the little princess could sneak in a boyfriend! Fuck, you’re dead. Luci just pulled in.” He pointed to Sam.

“Who’s dead?” Lucifer walked in, shutting the door behind him. “What the fuck happened now?”

“Someone’s got a boyfriend.” Raph grinned. He always did like to rile either Lucifer or Michael up as much as he could.

“What!?” Lucifer started to storm in, pushing past everyone to get into the room. “You better fucking start running.” he threatened, finger pointed right at Sam who looked terrified.

He wasn’t the only one. At the look of fear in your eyes, Michael grabbed Lucifer and pulled him back. “We need to talk.”

“She knows the fucking rules.”

“Now. Raph, fuck off.”

“No, this is the most interesting thing to happen-”

“Fuck off!” Michael screamed at him. “You two, upstairs.”

“So, what, she’s got a boyfriend and we’re just going to let that happen?” He looked from a fuming Lucifer to you standing between them and Sam. “Since when don’t we let Luci just beat-”

“GET THE FUCK OUT!”

“Fuck, okay. Jesus Christ.” He glared at his two older brothers before storming back towards the door and out. “Fuck this bullshit.” he spat.

“Upstairs while the grown ups talk.” Michael spoke again, just a little calmer as he pinned a fighting Lucifer to the wall. You grabbed Sam’s hand and rushed for the stairs while Lucifer spat profanity at everyone.

The sound of it followed you up the stairs, only cutting out once your door shut behind Sam. “So.. how many brothers do you have?” he asked nervously.

“Just the 4, thank fuck.” you groaned, dropping onto your bed.

“They’re uh- they’re really over protective..”

You nodded. “Yeah, I’m sorry, I should have warned you about that.. I had hoped I’d have time to talk to Michael before you met anyone other than Gabriel.”

“If they’re that protective, I don’t think I want to meet your dad.” Sam chuckled nervously before sitting next to you on the bed.

“Luci is who you need to worry about. My dad isn’t really around, Michael pretty much raised me. I’m not just the baby of the family, I’m the only girl. I’m the last link to mom. Luci loved mom more than anything and he was her favourite. When mom died..”

“Mom dies, dad goes off the deep end and big brother takes over?” You looked up at him, confused how he knew. “Dean, my older brother, raised me too.”

“Luci doesn’t let anyone near me. Michael raised me, but Lucifer… he was my prince when I was little.” you smiled. “My knight in shining armour, always protecting me. There’s a reason I’m not allowed to date despite being damn well old enough.” you sighed. “When I was 13, I liked this guy. Rob. He liked me.” you smiled softly before ducking your head down. “He was 15. No idea why he was interested in me, but I wasn’t questioning that. I only knew him because he was always at my friends house with her older brother. He took me out on a date, Michael had approved of it, and it went fine.”

“What happened?”

“Rob told his buddies that he’d done more than he did with me. When I heard, it broke my heart. I called Luci crying from school during 5th period. By the final bell, he was waiting outside. We found Rob with his friends, Luci threw him at my feet and made him apologize for lying. Then he punched him. Broken nose, broken jaw.. One of the other kids called the police and Luci was arrested.”

“Jesus Christ..”

“He has anger issues, that’s no secret to anyone who knows us. But he looks at me like I’m his last link to mom because I look just like her. I remind him of her. To him, I need protecting at all cost, especially from men who would just hurt his precious little princess.”

Sam nodded, understanding a little better. “Well, I have no intention of hurting you.” he gave you a smile, hand going to your thigh to reassure you.

“Let’s hope Luci believes that.”

The door burst open so fast it slammed against your wall and the knob left a dent. Sam’s hand jerked away as if burned when he saw it was Lucifer in the doorway. “You hurt my fucking sister and I’ll rip your balls off and feed them to you, am I fucking clear?”

“Crystal.” Sam nodded quickly.

“Did Mikey-”

“Yeah.”

“Are you going to tell Raph?”

“No.”

“Thank you, Luci.” You got up from your bed and rushed to him, wrapping your arms around his waist and hugging him tight. He held you tight, and you were sure he was still glaring at Sam over your head, but the fact that he wasn’t swinging a fist, you’d take it. “I knew my prince would understand.”

“Fuck off.” he pushed you away, but you could tell he was fighting to hide his smile. “I’m serious, fake or not, you better not hurt my fucking sister.”

“I have no intention to.”

“Good. Now fuck off. Go home. It’s getting late and there’s school tomorrow.”

“Can you try to be nice?” You gave him an annoyed look.

“Please.” he ground out. “Happy?”

“Getting there.” you teased, sticking out your tongue.

“Hey, Sam.” you leaned in from behind him and kissed his cheek. He was sitting at a table, surrounded by his friends as he ate lunch.

“Hey.” he looked up at you and smiled.

“You two!?” Jason, one of Sam’s friends who was also in your English class, looked between the two of you. “That’s who you were with at the party?” Sam shifted so you could sit on the bench next to him while Jason continued to look shocked. “And you’re still fucking alive!?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Sam laughed, arm going around your waist as you shifted closer to him.

“Dude, I gave her a lift home and her brother almost broke my fucking arm!”

“No, you tried to come into my house and my brother almost broke your fucking arm.” you smirked over at him.

“Luci?” Sam asked, and you nodded. “He’s not so bad.” he shrugged as if it was no big deal.

“Not so bad!? Have you even met him? Dude is fucking nuts! No offence.”

“None taken by me, but he might not like the comment.” you teased.

“Oh fuck, don’t tell him.” Jason groaned. “Please don’t fucking tell him.”

“Winchester’s got balls.” someone walking past chimed in, clapping Sam on the back. “Half the fucking school has been too afraid to touch that.”

You leaned in closer to Sam and whispered “I told you. All you needed was me.” He smiled, pulling you closer and kissing your forehead. “So, who’s hosting the next party?” you asked, eyes scanning everyone else at the table as you friends started to come over and join it.

You had been “dating” Sam for about two months now. You hung out at lunch most days, always went to parties together, and he’d often come over after school, though he had his own reasons for that. He was smitten with Gabriel, not that he would admit it.

You walked out of school, hand in hand with Sam and grinned when you saw Gabriel waiting by a car outside. “Want a ride, cutie?”

“Yes!” You grinned, rushing forward to hug your brother.

“Wasn’t talking to you.” he teased as he hugged you back, laughing when you shoved at him and called him a name.

“Hey Gabriel!” someone called out, and Gabe sent them a wave.

“I’m the cutest damn person here.” you grumbled at him.

“I beg to differ.” he teased, looking to Sam. “Ride? You’re coming over again, aren’t you?”

“Uh-yeah.. Yeah sure.” Sam smiled shyly.

“Then get in.” Sam started for the back door, but Gabriel cut him off by opening the passenger side door and motioning for him to get in. Sam glanced from the door, to Gabriel, then to you only to find you opening the back door and getting in with a smile on your face. “Get in.”

Sam swallowed at the sound of Gabriel’s voice so smooth and so close. He just nodded and hurried around Gabriel and ducked into the seat. Gabe smiled as he shut the door and made his way around to the other side. When he turned to look at you in the seat behind him, he found you pretending to be focused on something else.

“So.” Gabe cut into the silence as he shut the door behind him and started up the engine. “Take out and movies tonight?” He glanced to the rear view at you before side eyeing Sam as he pulled out of the school lot.

“Your room?” you asked.

“If you guys want.”

“I think Sam wants.” you teased under your breath with a shit eating grin.

Sam’s face went beet red as he turned towards the window, shooting you a glare in the side mirror. Gabriel did his best to hide the way his lips curled up at that, pretending he didn’t hear for Sam’s sake. “What was that?”

“Nothing.” you grinned, and when he glanced to the rearview at you again, you could tell by his eyes he had damn well heard you.

Dean loved you, joked you were too good for his baby brother. You had finally met Dean about three months into the relationship. Sam didn’t know it, but Dean had known about Sam for years. He was grateful for what you were doing, though he wished his brother could just be himself. He understood why Sam was afraid. And when Dean met Gabriel a month after that, a shit eating grin had spread over his lips at the way Sam had said Gabe’s name and when he looked at you, and you nodded, confirming his unvoiced suspicion of his brother’s crush, he happily extended his hand to your brother.

Seven months into the relationship, and high school was over, summer had passed and it was off to College. You and Sam celebrated your 1 year anniversary in the California sun. He was your best friend, the one person you trusted more than anything. He was your world, and however long it took him to be comfortable enough to tell others who he was, you’d wait, letting him have that time. He deserved it.

While Michael and Luci had lost their shit about you thinking of moving across the country to go to school with your ‘boyfriend’ (no thanks to Raphael who egged them on constantly) Gabriel had instead bought a house, handed you a key and said “Now you don’t need to live on campus.” and winked.

He had ulterior motives, of course.

Because 6 months after your 1 year anniversary with Sam, you walked into the house after class to a massive mess of baked goods all over the kitchen, and a trail of filthy discarded clothes making its way to the bathroom. You couldn’t help but smile at the sounds coming from behind the closed door.

Banging on it with the side of your fist, you yelled out “HAPPY ONE YEAR, YOU FILTHY ANIMALS!” only to hear them laugh in response.

About 15 minutes later, they had moved to their shared bedroom, and your phone was going off.

>> Hey, I’m in town. Was thinking of grabbing dinner and stopping in, but Sammy isn’t answering.

You smiled seeing the text was from Dean.

<< Sam can’t come to the phone right now, he’s a little occupied. I’m up for a meal, but might I suggest your place, since I doubt you want to hear the animal-like noises coming from their room that I’m being subjected to. It’s loud and messy, cakes everywhere.

>> Point taken. >> What’s the occasion?

<< 1 year of these too being love sick dorks.

>> Oh shit, that’s today? >> guess you’ll need a place to sleep? I’ll switch my room for a double, you can crash here.

<< Sounds like a plan, handsome.

>> I’m at Motel 6.

<< Sunnyvale?

>> Yeah, need me to pick you up?

<< I’d never say no to a ride, Winchester.

>> Fuck, you’re going to be the death of me. >> I’ll see you soon, kid.

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ryqoshay · 4 years ago

Text

Happy Life: Angelic Hug

Primary Pairing: YohaRiko Words: ~2.1k Rating: G AU: Angelic? Time Frame: First week of Riko’s 1st year of college and Yoshiko’s 3rd year of high school Story Arc: Stand Alone

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Author’s Note: Inspired by a prompt from a reader.

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Riko set her phone down on her desk, having just read the last departing messages from her friends after she had announced that she needed to get back to her studies. Or, at least she thought that had been all of the messages. No sooner than her hand left the device than it vibrated with a new notification. Curious, Riko picked it back up and unlocked the screen.

Odd, there was nothing new in the group chat. However, changing threads revealed that the new message was in one of her private chats.

TheFallenAngel: Ne, Riri!

SakurauchiRiko: What’s up?

TheFallenAngel: Is everything alright?

SakurauchiRiko: Yes

SakurauchiRiko: Why?

TheFallenAngel: I just got the feeling that you were deflecting a lot in our group chat

TheFallenAngel: Or at least more than usual

TheFallenAngel: Like a lot more than usual

TheFallenAngel: And you know my fallen angel senses will tell me when something is wrong with one of my favored little demons

TheFallenAngel: So again is everything really alright?

Riko sighed. Of course, now of all times would be when Yoshiko chose to be empathic. The younger girl had a knack for picking up on cues that others missed while regularly remaining oblivious to things most would consider obvious. Still, this had led to Yoshiko becoming one of Riko’s confidants. For some things.

SakurauchiRiko: I guess I’m just a little stressed

SakurauchiRiko: Between moving and starting classes in a new school it’s like Uchiura all over again

SakurauchiRiko: Only this time I don’t have someone like Chika-chan to help make the transition

TheFallenAngel: Have you reached out to anyone from Otonokizaka?

SakurauchiRiko: I thought of that

SakurauchiRiko: But the few friends I made in my first year aren’t in the area any more

TheFallenAngel: Well it’s still your first week

TheFallenAngel: Yohane has faith that someone as amazing as Riri will make plenty of new friends

Riko smiled at the compliment. However, it wasn’t quite that simple. Despite gaining some confidence during her time with Aqours, Riko was still quite shy, especially around new people. And while she had definitely worked hard to strengthen her bonds with her friends, like Yoshiko, in truth it had been Chika who had made the initial connections for her.

But… how much of that did she want to admit to Yoshiko?

SakurauchiRiko: I hope so

TheFallenAngel: And in the meantime its not like you’ve lost any friends

TheFallenAngel: Sure we’re a little farther away now

TheFallenAngel: Heck Mari is all the way over in Italy

TheFallenAngel: But the mortals of this realm have devised wonderous tools that we can use to communicate over vast distances

Riko laughed. She was wondering when Yoshiko would drop something like that into the conversation.

SakurauchiRiko: That is true

SakurauchiRiko: The group chat has definitely helped

TheFallenAngel: But if that’s not enough you can always call

Riko blinked. Yoshiko had predicted her intended point of wanting to hear someone’s voice.

TheFallenAngel: Or even video chat

TheFallenAngel: I’m free now if you want to talk

SakurauchiRiko: Thank you for the offer, Yoshiko-chan, it means a lot

SakurauchiRiko: I may take you up on that tomorrow night when I can stay up later

SakurauchiRiko: Tonight I may just have to dig out an extra pillow to hug

TheFallenAngel: Or I could give you a hug

What? Riko reread the message to make sure she had done so correctly.

SakarauchiRiko: You can’t be serious

TheFallenAngel: I am

SakurauchiRiko: But you’re over a hundred kilometers away

SakurauchiRiko: Are you going to teleport or something?

TheFallenAngel: No

TheFallenAngel: Silly Riri

TheFallenAngel: Id take the train like a normal mortal

Riko resisted the urge to ask why Yoshiko didn’t mention flying.

SakurauchiRiko: Thank you again for the offer

SakurauchiRiko: But I’ll be heading back for You-chan’s birthday next weekened

SakurauchiRiko: So we can see each other in person then

TheFallenAngel: You sure?

Riko paused. Part of her suddenly wanted to accept Yoshiko’s offer. She hadn’t considered it until just now, but after two years around several physically affectionate friends, she realized she missed all the contact. She did actually want a hug. Especially one from a close friend.

TheFallenAngel: Riri?

SakurauchiRiko: I’m fine

This time the pause was on the other end.

TheFallenAngel: Alright

SakurauchiRiko: Have a good night, Yoshiko-chan

SakurauchiRiko: Thank you for helping me feel better

SakurauchiRiko: We’ll talk tomorrow night

TheFallenAngel: Yeah

TheFallenAngel: Have a good night Riri

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Riko sighed as she walked down the hall back to her dorm room after her bath. She still felt a little bad about lying to Yoshiko; she wasn’t as fine as she claimed to be. Certainly, she felt better than before their conversation. She appreciated her friend’s concern and looked forward to talking over the phone tomorrow night. But she still felt guilty.

A sigh from somewhere ahead of her caused her to look up.

Wait, is that…?

A blue-haired girl with an all-too familiar side-bun standing near Riko’s door slumped her shoulders and turned away.

“Yoshiko-chan?” Riko called.

“Riri!?” The girl spun. “You’re here!”

“Yes, I am.” Riko hastened her pace. “I live here. But what are you doing here?”

“I came to give you your hug.” Yoshiko spread her arms and smiled as the older girl reached her.

“You… what?”

“I came to give you your hug?” Yoshiko repeated, sounding less confident than before. She bounced a little on her toes and moved her arms to indicate that they were still open.

“You came all this way just to give me a hug?”

“Well, yeah, I said that I would…”

“And I said you didn’t have to…”

“I know I didn’t have to, but I couldn’t stop thinking about how much you seemed to really need one, and so I just…”

Oh gods, that expression… Riko’s heart twisted.

“Look, just,” Riko opened the door to her room and motioned for the other girl to enter “come in out of the hallway at least.”

Yoshiko ducked her head and slunk through the doorway like a dejected puppy and Riko immediately felt guilty for causing the reaction. She wasn’t quite sure why she was upset. She knew Yoshiko meant well. Her steadfast devotion to ensuring the wellbeing of her friends was one of Yoshiko’s most endearing traits, despite, or perhaps because of her strange ways of going about such things.

“I’m sorry, Riri.” Yoshiko turned and “Eh?”

Riko wrapped her arms around the shorter girl.

“No, I’m sorry, Yoshiko-chan.” Riko said, pulling the two of them closer together. “I didn’t mean to make you think I was mad at you or anything. Thank you for coming all this way just for me.”

“I… uhm… it…” Yoshiko fumbled, both with her words as well as with returning the embrace. “B-but of course… A… A fallen angel should always be willing to go to whatever lengths are necessary to do what is best for her little demons.”

Riko chuckled. Of course, Yoshiko would retreat to her fallen angel persona. But that didn’t diminish the meaningfulness of her actions.

And as for those actions, the hug was warm, soft and unbelievably comforting. It was glorious. Riko wouldn’t hesitate to describe it as heavenly. Angelic. Yoshiko could have sprouted wings on the spot and Riko would not have been the least bit surprised. Big fluffy white angel wings. Or maybe dark and intimidating demon wings. Or even beautiful black feathered angel wings.

Wait, why was she thinking about Yoshiko and wings?

Then it started to hit her. Everything she had been stuffing down for the last couple weeks as she did her best to keep up the appearance of a dutiful daughter and competent college student. All the emotions of leaving home, her parents, her friends, her dog.

She obviously had needed a hug far more than she had realized. She tightened her embrace.

“It’s alright.” Yoshiko murmured near her ear.

Riko realized her cheeks were already wet and that the other girl likely noticed moisture on her shoulder. When had she started crying?

“I’m here. Let it out.”

Riko sniffled. She opened her mouth to respond, but all that came out was a breathy sob. For her part, Yoshiko patted her back a couple times. Riko lost track of how long the two stood or how many tears she shed onto Yoshiko’s shoulder, but eventually she let out one last ragged sigh and started to pull away.

“Feel better?” Yoshiko offered a gentle smile.

“Mm…” Riko nodded as she dabbed away moister from her eyes with the sleeve of her sleep shirt. “Thank you again.”

“I’m glad I was able to help.”

“So, we were going to talk tomorrow over the phone, but since you’re already here…”

“Yeah, about that… uhm…” Yoshiko reached up and rubbed the back of her neck. “I should actually probably head back, since I kinda snuck out without saying anything, so…”

“Yoshiko-chan.” Riko shook her head.

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“It’s not me you should be apologizing to.”

“Yeah…”

“Anyway, you should probably call or message your parents that you won’t be back until tomorrow morning.”

“I won’t?”

“The last train out would have left not long after you arrived, if I remember the schedule correctly.”

“Wha…?” Yoshiko visibly paled.

“You didn’t look into that before you left?”

Despite asking, Riko realized she knew the answer before it was given, because of course Yoshiko didn’t check. Of course, she would just race off to the aid of a friend without a second thought for herself and what to do afterward. Riko had long since stopped being surprised by Yoshiko’s selflessness and instead began worrying the purported fallen angel would hurt herself in her haste to be helpful.

“No, I just…” The younger girl was clearly panicking now. “I just knew I needed to get here and… Geez, I don’t know… I need to find a place to stay. Where is the nearest hotel?”

“What do you mean hotel? You can just stay here, obviously.”

“Are you sure?”

At this, Riko couldn’t help laughing a little. “You just traveled over a hundred kilometers to give me a hug. The absolute least I can do is set out my guest futon for you to use.”

Despite her amusement, Riko found herself a little confused by Yoshiko’s reaction to her offer. It was by no means the first time she had stayed overnight at Riko’s place, usually after a visit with Prelude ended up lasting a bit too long. Granted this was the first time she would be staying in Riko’s dorm room, but that shouldn’t make that much of a difference, right?

“Alright.” Yoshiko agreed after a moment.

“And if you want, while I get things set up here, you can take my tote down the hall for a shower.”

“Sure, that would be nice. But, uhm… where is the bathroom here?” Yoshiko asked, reaching for the container of supplies.

“It’s at the junction of the wings. You can’t miss it.” Riko assured. “Oh, and let’s get you something to change into.” She pulled open a drawer of her dresser and grabbed the first sleepshirt she found. “Here, this should fit you well enough.”

“Thanks, Riri!” Yoshiko’s mood suddenly swung back to the positive side of the pendulum as she accepted the garment.

“I should be thanking you.” Riko replied.

“You already did.” Yoshiko reminded. “A couple times, in fact.”

“I know, but it really does mean a lot to me.”

“Happy to help.” Yoshiko grinned. “Anyway, back in a bit.”

Riko nodded as the younger girl slipped out the door. She then made her way to her closet to retrieve her guest futon.

Tonight had taken quite the unexpected turn but Riko wasn’t complaining in the slightest. It was one thing for her friends and family to express their support through messages or over the phone, and Riko was appreciative of it all, but it was quite another thing to make a grand gesture the likes of which Yoshiko had just made.

Riko felt like she almost had her own guardian angel. A fallen guardian angel who often awkwardly forgot to think things through thoroughly, but still… The emotional boost she had just received from her friend would undoubtedly carry her through the next couple weeks, if not the rest of the month.

As she settled on her bed with a doujin, Riko found herself looking forward to catching up with Yoshiko for a little while before they turned in for the night. She also pondered how she could pay back the other girl. Perhaps she could make breakfast in the morning before Yoshiko headed out? Yoshiko would be late for school back in Numazu no matter what, so a slight delay for a meal wouldn’t make much of a difference, right? She made a mental note to make such plans once Yoshiko returned, then found where she had left off in the story and started reading.

----------

Author’s Note Continued in Followup Post

#YohaRiko #YoshiRiko #Sakurauchi Riko #Tsushima Yohane #Love Live Sunshine #Happy Life #fanfic #Tsushima Yoshiko

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mordoriscalling · 5 years ago

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Stay or Sail Away (1/6)

Here comes part one the modern AU fake dating Geraskier fic that I talked about in this post. I’d like to post each part daily. Tagging @geraskier-trashh as requested! :D

***

It’s not that Jaskier has any problem finding someone, thank you very much. It’s just that he’s busy. Busy with concerts and composing, meeting fans at various events, travelling, internet dramas involving Valdo (it’s always fucking Valdo). There’s no time for a relationship, only for occasional one night stands that sometimes that leave him heartbroken because he actually manages to fall in love with someone in the span of a few hours. It’s fine, though. Heartbreak inspires him like little else.

Jaskier's never complained about lack of bed partners, when he seeks them out. He’s charming, after all. Still, the moment he hears “commitment”, he flees. It’s just not his way. Or perhaps he’s never found anyone fascinating enough to commit to; it takes a lot to keep his attention. He wasn’t even looking for someone like that. Not until recently.

His troubles began a week ago, during a phone call with his mum. She reminded him of his father’s 65th birthday party and asked if he would bring anyone with him. This was followed by a series of questions about his love life because, as his mum put it, “you’re 35, Julian darling, and you’re always working so hard! I worry you’ll end up alone”. In order to placate her, Jaskier might’ve lied a little tiny bit about some things. As a result, because of all the twists and turns of the conversation, he made his mother believe he had a fiancé.

A fucking fiancé.

Wanda Pankratz was ecstatic, wishing to know everything about her son’s relationship, but he dodged all the further questions by saying that she would meet his love soon enough. She left it at that but, of course, told half the family about it, if the texts and calls from his sisters and aunts were anything to go by.

Hence, The Post.

It’s a bit pathetic and desperate, Jaskier can freely admit, but he has no other choice. His personal guard Zoltan almost pissed himself laughing when Jaskier asked him to pretend to be his fiancé, and not one of his friends knows anyone who would want to do this. Not even his agent Triss could help him out.

It all drove Jaskier to log on his anonymous Facebook account (he is a pretty big name in the UK; better be safe than sorry) and post in one of the big London groups.

“I need urgent help from someone who’d be willing to act as my fiancé during a family party on February the 24th. The only thing I expect is the ability to sing praises of our love and to compliment my aunts. It’ll take around 4 hours and then we end our relationship. Age from 35 to 40. It’d be great if you knew something about the sea because I intend to introduce you as a sailor who’s never home and afterwards, you die. Can anybody help?”

Since yesterday, the post has got more than a thousand reactions (mostly the laughing one and likes) and hundreds of comments. Many people tagged their friends as a joke, which is not helpful, but Jaskier still scrolls down and down, trying not to let his hope die. Nobody seems to think his request is for real and he’s received no serious offers so far. Then, one of the newest comment threads catches his attention.

Lambert Rivia: Geralt Rivia Destiny!

Geralt Rivia Fuck off

Yennefer Vengeberg Omg 😂 Cirilla Vengeberg-Rivia Eskel Rivia you must see this!

Cirilla Vengeberg-Rivia Yesssss!! This is perfect! ❤️

Eskel Rvia Do it Geralt

Geralt Rivia No.

Intrigued, Jaskier decides to check out these people’s profiles. Lambert Rivia is a handsome red-haired man who wears some kind of black military suit in his profile picture. Looking at his bio, Jaskier already knows why Lambert didn’t volunteer himself – he’s in a relationship. Eskel Rivia is blond, even more handsome than Lambert despite facial scars, and also has a photo in a black suit, together with a white cap on his head. There’s no information on Eskel’s relationship status and Jaskier is intrigued indeed. Yennefer Vengeberg is a terrifyingly beautiful woman who, judging how professional her profile picture appears, must work in some serious profession. Cirilla Vengerberg-Rivia is a lovely teenage girl with white-blond hair. Jaskier reckons she’s the daughter of Yennefer and one of the Rivia guys.

He left the poor Geralt’s profile as the last to look at, but now that Jaskier has seen the rest, he checks this one too.

His jaw fucking drops.

Geralt Rivia is a ridiculously handsome man. His face seems practically unreal because, surely, people as beautiful as Geralt don’t actually exist? The man’s long white hair (which makes no sense considering his apparent age), as well as his brown-almost-golden eyes, only add to his otherwordly, stunning appearance. Double stunning in that black military suit he’s wearing in his profile picture, just like Lambert and Eskel. The suit looks familiar and Jaskier has a nagging feeling he really should know what kind of army it is. Google helps him out and he quickly puts two to two – Geralt, Eskel and Lambert serve for the Royal Navy.

He bursts out laughing.

This is too good.

He wonders what he should to about this. Now that he knows about Geralt’s existence, he can’t really miss the chance of meeting him, however slim. His gut feeling tells him not to let the opportunity slip and well, who is Jaskier not to listen?

When he’s in the middle of debating what to write to the man, his phone pings. There’s a new messenger notification... with Geralt’s name. With a racing heart, Jaskier opens the message.

FEB THE 18TH AT 06:14 PM Hey. Everyone’s telling me to message you and won’t leave me alone. Is your request for real? Please say no

Jaskier chuckles and replies:

Hi! I’m sorry they’re bothering you and I’m also sorry to say that my request is very much for real. I’d be forever grateful if you helped me 😁

To this, Geralt responds with:

They really won’t stop until I agree They think it’s so fucking funny

Jaskier purses his lips, already suspecting this isn’t likely to work out. He'll have to face his loving mum and admit that he lied to her about fucking having a fiancé. She’s going to be so disappointed. At the very prospect, bad mood overtakes him, but he still types what he hopes to be a cheerful answer.

Damn, so sorry mate I won’t push you but, again, I’d totally owe you one if you agree ☺️

What would I get?

Jaskier tries to reason with his hope to calm the fuck down and replies:

Money, or a favour of some sort, I have many connections Could be free tickets to my concerts Even my company for the night 😏 Just whatever you want I really need help

Fuck

For a minute or two, the three dots next to Geralt’s photo disappear, and Jaskier’s hope plummets in a dramatic fashion. Then, more messages from Geralt show up in the chat.

Free tickets seem fine My daughter loves going to concerts She’d like free tickets but I never heard of you

Jaskier starts begging any god out there that Cirilla is Geralt’s daughter. Teenagers make up a large part of his audience (which is great, actually; teenage kids are amazing these days). If she’s a fan, the free tickets are a major bargaining chip.

Well, Julian AP isn’t my stage name I don’t use it on fb

What is it? Your stage name

I’d rather not say here And you must promise me you won’t tell anyone about it too Well, anyone but your daughter

Can you call me? It’s better to talk about this on the phone anyway

Fine.

Jaskier sends Geralt his number and waits for the call. In other circumstances, he’d congratulate himself on getting a man like that to call him so easily, but he’s too anxious. His hands itch for his guitar but he doesn’t get up from his bed. He begins smoothing his hair out with his palms, praying in his mind that Geralt hasn’t changed his mind.

After the agonizing wait of six minutes, there’s an incoming call. Jaskier takes a deep breath and picks up.

“Hello,” says a gravelly baritone voice so pleasant that it sends shivers down Jaskier’s spine.

“Uhm, h-hi, Geralt,” he replies a bit breathlessly, “so, my name’s Julian Alfred Pankratz but I’m known to many as Jaskier.”

There’s a beat of silence. “Jaskier?” Geralt repeats, “the one who sings Her Sweet Kiss?”

Jaskier beams, his chest swelling with pride. “The very same.”

“Fuck,” Geralt growls, “Ciri wants to blast this song whenever we drive somewhere.”

Jaskier laughs. “She would love free tickets to my concerts, wouldn’t she?”

“Yeah.”

Geralt says no more. Jaskier has to swallow down to sop his throat from constricting. “So?” he asks, “Can you do this for me?”

The silence on the other side is deafening and Jaskier doesn’t even breathe until Geralt finally speaks up. “Fine,” he grunts, his tone indicating it’s anything but fine.

Air leaves Jaskier’s lungs in a whoosh, replaced by a flood of such sheer relief that he may as well cry. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” he babbles, heady with joy, “Gosh, you’re my saviour!”

“Just don’t tell anyone about this,” Geralt grumbles.

“Not a soul, Geralt, not a soul.”

“Send me the details about when and where and let’s get this over w–”

“No, wait!” Jaskier cuts in, “My family’s very perceptive, they’ll know it’s a ruse. We should plan everything carefully.”

“You’re making me regret this,” Gerlt growls.

“I’m sorry!” Jaskier hastens to say. “Just... at least tell me a bit about yourself?”

Geralt lets out an irritated sigh. “I’m forty, serve for the Royal Navy with my brothers. Eskel’s the nice one and Lambert’s the prick. My ex-wife Yennefer works for the government.” Jaskier actually shudders at this one because he already can picture it. Yennefer seems exactly powerful like that. “We have a daughter,” Geralt goes on, his tone softening, “Ciri. She’s fourteen. We live in London but I’m away often.”

“Oh, lovely,” Jaskier says with a wide smile because, really, this man’s love for his daughter is so clear and endearing, “this is something we can start with.”

“Just make everything up about our relationship and send it to me. I’ll play along.”

“Thank you,” he breathes out, still amazed at his luck. Jaskier is almost high on the success of his ingenious scheme and his obligations are therefore non-existent, so nothing stops him from teasing Geralt. “Though, to be completely honest," he says cheekily, "you don’t strike me as the type to sing praises of our love and compliment my aunts.”

“Hmm,” Geralt replies. It doesn’t sound like a negation. “Yen says I’m not that bad if I try.”

The fondness with which he said Yennefer’s name is a cold bucket of water poured on his enthusiasm. “O-oh, ok,” he stutters out, thrown off-track, “So, uhm, would you be willing to try for me?”

For a moment, Geralt says nothing, then answers, “If you give Ciri an autograph.”

Jaskier laughs out loud. “Not a problem at all! Whatever she wants.” He pauses. “Whatever you want,” he adds more seriously.

Geralt only hmms, in a way that Jaskier’s prone-to-romanticism mind would almost call warm. Silence falls between them but it doesn’t feel awkward somehow. “Have to go,” Geralt says.

“Okay,” Jaskier replies quietly, “Thank you again. I’ll text you, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

After Geralt hangs up, Jaskier huffs out a shaky breath. Deep down, he already knows.

This is going to mess him up.

TBC

Part 2

#myfic #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #the witcher #modern au #pretend relationship #fake dating #fanfic #let's call this... the Sailor and the Singer AU xD #the Sailor and the Singer AU

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the-lonely-tree-original · 5 years ago

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Hello Once More (Killua x Gon)

Summary: Sometime after their separation, Killua and Gon meet once more. But being on the run from Illumi is hard, and Killua’s gone through measures to make sure people wouldn’t recognize him, even Gon.

***

It was a masquerade dance. One with bright colors and lavish decorations and everything expected from one of the richest hunters in the world. People were dressed in sharp, cleanly pressed suits and long, expert-woven gowns. Suits and dresses were fatuous, however, to the ornate masks that sat upon the guests’ heads. Some were embroidered with the thread of their homeland, others with precious jewels. Each hid a joyful face under the decorated material.

A boy of black hair and blue eyes found himself wearing one of these masks, a crystalline blue sort of color with white beads in a seemingly erratic pattern. His brand new suit became rumpled as he was zipped around disgruntled hunters and their companions by the firm hand of his little sister.

“Hey! Hey, Stop!”

The girl did end up stopping and turned around, a bright smile spreading across her youthful face. “Onii-chan, stop complaining. You promised you would enjoy this for me.”

Killua let out a long suffering sigh, the corners of his mouth eventually molding their way into a quirky smile as well. “I was enjoying it. I was enjoying watching you dance from the sidelines. I can continue to enjoy it from there.”

“Not on my watch. I’m not letting you leave this floor until you’ve danced at least once.” Alluka accentuated her point by giving her dress a little twirl, the movement drawing attention from prying eyes around the room. If Killua’s outfit was extravagant, then Alluka’s was downright ostentatious, the pink folds of her dress covered by a sheer golden sash, making it seem as if she had been wrapped in a glittering sunrise. She wore white, pristine gloves on her hands and brown woven flats on her feet. What she lacked in jewelry, her hair made up for. Long, shing black strands were curled into tight curls that rested on the top of her head in a flowery bun, two loose coils intertwined with golden thread and the beads she and Nanika were so fond of sat upon her chest.

Killua let himself be dragged off, only because he didn’t want anyone to try anything on his baby sister, but someone else had other plans in mind.

“Excuse me!”

Killua whirled around at the voice. The warm and pleasant voice. The achingly familiar voice.

“I’m sorry to bother you, but do you mind if I steal this dance?”

He may have been wearing different clothes and had a mask covering half of his face, but that was Gon. He knew it was. Killua had recognized it from the voice, the charming and comforting voice. Staring at him now, even if his hair had been dyed a new color and his voice had gone a tone deeper like Killua’s had, those honey-brown eyes would have been unforgettable. Keeping his hair a black-green color and only reaching a few inches taller? The familiarity was uncanny.

Snapping himself out of his thoughts, Killua stood aside. No matter how much he wanted to throw off his mask and greet his friend in a hug, he couldn’t. There was no telling what connections his brother had. If he revealed himself here, it would only be seconds before he was seized and dragged home. Gon had asked his sister to dance. He could sit back down and watch from afar once more. She’d be safe in his hands. And, if Killua was being honest with himself, it would hurt a little less too.

Gon, precious, radiant Gon, reached his hand to his neck in a nervous gesture. “So, uhm… is that a no?”

Killua felt two hands in the small of his back, and suddenly found himself pressed against a firm body.

“It’s a yes,” Alluka’s voice rang out from behind. “Sorry about that, big brother’s just a little slow with people sometimes.”

“Hey-” Killua began, but cut himself short. Gon was smiling. It was a big, shining smile, and Killua found himself involuntarily relaxing just a little.

“Great! Thank you very much!” The words were directed towards his sister, and before he knew it, he’d been whisked away to the middle of the dance floor.

They adjusted themselves awkwardly, it being clear that neither of them had any experience dancing with another male. Eventually they found themselves in a position with Gon’s arms wrapped around Killua’s waist and the latter’s around Gon’s neck. Meeting each other at eye level, that sleight height difference Killua had once been so proud of now tied by the milimeter, Killua was able to get a good look at the mask. It was an earthy green, very simple compared to the ones he’d seen on everyone else. Killua amused himself with the realization that his best friend never escaped the colors of his youth, even while he stood before him in a black and white suit - though, Killua’s mask was of white and blues, so he couldn’t say much about himself either.

“Your eyes are really pretty.”

The comment startled Killua, sending him reeling backwards with the embarrassed flush he’d thought he’d left behind.

“W-why would you say that?”

“Because they are.” Gon closed the distance between them and raised a hand to rest it on the side of his head, fingers absentmindedly flicking up black-dyed hair. “They’re really pretty. Like the color of the ocean on a clear day. Actually,” he paused here, an embarrassed flush making its way up his face for once, “they remind me of someone I know.”

“They do?” Killua leaned forward in interest. He knew that he was a big part of Gon’s life, even if the other never felt the same way that he felt about him, and he knew that he must have crossed Gon’s mind at least once, but the other boy had thought his eyes pretty. Did he dare hope…

“Yeah. He has eyes just like yours. Actually, I only really came to this party in the first place to find him. I thought I heard him earlier, but I guess I was wrong.” Gon’s voice faded into a disappointed tone at the end. A tone that he recognized in his own voice whenever he talked about his friend. Killua wanted to grab his shoulders. He wanted to grab his shoulders and shake them and scream, ‘I’m right here, you idiot’ till the sentence was ingrained in Gon’s mind. But he knew he couldn’t. Not when people could be watching. Not when they could take Alluka and him away.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said, caught in between the line of meaning it and not. “I’m sure he’ll be here eventually.”

Gon looked at him, long and hard but not seeing. “I don’t know. It was a long shot anyways. He’s been off the maps for a while, so I don’t really know what I was expecting.”

Killua swallowed. This wasn’t Gon. Gon wasn’t sad like this. Gon was upbeat and positive and if he couldn’t be that, then he was a burning ball of anger waiting to explode. Gon wasn’t… resigned.

The former assassin changed the subject, hoping to change the mood to something somewhat lighter. “Oh, I see. If you don’t mind me asking, why did you ever ask me…”

“Ask you to dance?”

Killua nodded.

“Hmmmm... I don’t know. It was just a feeling… I think.”

“You think?”

“You remind me of my special person. That’s all.”

Special person. Special person. Did that mean Killua was his special person? Killua turned his head, looking around the room to find Alluka, to confirm if what he was hearing seeing was real.

Gon continued, oblivious to his internal strife. “You really do sound like him at times, you see. It’s like your voices are exactly the same… and then, and then they’re not.”

Killua knew that Gon was thick headed, to not have realized who he really was even with all these things he’d picked up on. To instead find him and think that he was nothing more than a similarity. Gon never mentioned who he was though, so maybe, maybe if he left a vague enough answer, he would be able to piece together everything without Killua having to reveal anything at all.

“That’s why I asked you to dance. Cause I thought I heard him. I thought maybe you were him.” It was an honest answer, one that got straight to the point and didn’t waste time sugarcoating anything with meaningless compliments. But, if what he was saying was true, then that meant that Gon would have asked him to dance anyways. Because of who he was. Something about that realization sent his heart hammering in his ribs, giddy energy rising up inside him. “Even if you aren’t him… you look enough like him that I still want to be with you. For this dance.”

There was silence then, the only noise being the crowd’s amicable chatter and slow music flowing from the performance upstage.

“If I’m being honest,” Killua began, “You remind me of someone special to me too.”

“I do?”

Their roles were reversed. This time it was Gon with the hopeful and curious tone to his voice and Killua with resignation in his, only that Killua was completely aware of who the stranger really was.

“Yeah. He means a lot to me. He was the person who taught me to let other people in and to care about them in return. I think it’s safe to say that he was my first friend.”

Something of an understanding was beginning to flicker in Gon’s eyes, and Killua smiled at the slow process of him putting the dots together. Before Gon could reach complete clarity, before he could open his mouth and shout his name to the crowd, Killua closed the distance between their faces and connected their lips in a passionate kiss.

Not even a year ago, even with Gon by his side professing their friendship everyday, could Killua have ever done this before. Mortification wouldn’t even have the chance to reach him because the kiss would have never happened. He’d never had the self-worth to believe something good could come out of a reckless and selfish decision like that.

Their journey together and the distance between them had changed him, though. And now with his lips caught in a bruising force against Gon’s, the taste of chocolate and citrus blending together on their tongues, Killua couldn’t find it in himself to regret the decision.

Their dancing had slowed to a stop, and instead they stood, molded into each other with their arms intertwined on each other's hips, making up for all the time they’d missed.

I’m sorry.

I missed you.

I love you.

When their breath had run out and their legs turned weak, the kiss broke off. The two boys separated and stared, breathless, into eachothers’ eyes. Gon closed the gap a second time, not to go for another kiss, but to rest their foreheads together. The gesture was so childish and sweet and so like Gon that Killua found himself bearing a true, beaming smile for the first time that evening.

“Killu-” Gon began, but before he could even finish the word, Killua interrupted with words of his own.

“It’s nice to see you again, Gon.”

#killugon #gon x killua #hunter x hunter #hxh #killua zoldyck #gon freccs #romance #first kiss #fanfic #my writing #oneshot #I've never written a romantic pairing before #I hope it wasn't a nightmare #it respects their ages I swear

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nekojitachan · 5 years ago

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OK, so it took a while, but I got something written (I should say something completed). Let’s hope this continues.

That something is the next part of the raven!Andrew soulmate story. There’s a bit of a time jump here. But hopefully you’ll catch on to what’s happening.

Here’s a link to the first part.

*******

Andrew pulled the Maserati Quattroporte Ribelle into the only gas station at the exit; they were two hours from Abby Winfield’s house, timed to get there around 7am. That meant they’d drove through the night after leaving West Virginia, creeping out of the Nest past midnight like a pair of thieves – or escapees. However, Ichirou had granted them their (limited) freedom at last, even bestowed upon them the car which rumbled to a stop at the gas pump of some no-name town.

Nathaniel slumped lower in the passenger seat and tugged the hood of his black long-sleeved t-shirt further over his face while Andrew grabbed his wallet, despite the fact that they were the only one at the gas station/mini-mart. “Do you want anything?” Andrew asked his soulmate before he stepped out of the car.

“Uhm, something to drink?”

“One super-size atomic sludge freeze slushie, coming right up, sweetpea.”

The left corner of Andrew’s mouth twitched upward as Nathaniel called him an asshole and more, the insults cut off when the car door slammed shut; that was the most reaction he’d gotten out of his boyfriend since they’d left Edgar Allan. He couldn’t blame him, really, not when one had considered everything that had happened in the last couple weeks.

They’d succeeded in taking down Riko; the mentally unstable prick had finally snapped during the pregame session when the Ravens and Foxes were supposed to face off at the division championship. Considering that his little ‘tantrum’ had led to several players on both teams being injured, it was decided that the final game would be cancelled and the championship awarded to the team with the most points accumulated during the season, which of course were the Ravens. A lot of people weren’t happy about that since they’d looked forward to the face-off between the Foxes (Kevin Day) and the Ravens (Riko), but there was little that could be done in the end.

Especially when Tetsuji announced that he was stepping down due to ‘guilt’ from failing his nephew. Oh, there was a bit of an outcry about what was going on at the Nest to make Riko ‘snap’ like that, but it was mostly overridden by the news of ‘the Master’ retiring and the search for a new coach (as if Ichirou didn’t have one lined up already).

Mostly.

All that mattered was that Riko was shuffled off to some psychiatric center (never to return, not that Andrew would put money down on the prick lasting out the rest of the year), and that Tetsuji was gone, too (he’d give him maybe another year, just so it didn’t look too suspicious, both of them dying close together). Since Ichirou had taken over after his father had passed away in the spring, he’d made it clear that he intended to rid himself of the side branch for once and all; he broke no exploitable weaknesses.

Andrew had been more than willing to exorcise those weaknesses if it meant buying Nathaniel’s freedom.

(Or at least as much freedom as he could manage at the moment.)

With their ‘king’ and ‘master’ gone, some of the Ravens had flown far, far away from their Nest. A couple had been… strongly urged to leave (kicked out). A few had complained about the stress of the program and not wanting to end up like Riko, and been let out of their contracts (a good example of PR). And then there had been Jean, Nathaniel and Andrew.

Jean took the opportunity during one of the many ‘what are your thoughts on Riko’ interviews to announce that Jeremy Knox was his soulmate, so it didn’t come as a surprise to anyone that he accepted an offer to transfer to SCU. Since Aaron blew up all of his (pathetic) social media channels with how he’d found his own soulmate at last and that she was a PSU cheerleader, and Nathaniel always defended Kevin after he transferred to the Foxes, it didn’t shock too many people when Nathaniel and Andrew allowed PSU to release a press release a few days later (finally) that they were leaving Edgar Allan to join their former teammate in South Carolina.

It’s what Andrew had strived for all these months, yet… yet here he was at 5am in a random minimart, shoving energy and granola bars, bottles of green tea, cans of energy drinks, and whatever decent chocolate snacks he could find into the basket hung from his left arm, to be paid for (along with a tank of premium gasoline) by a fancy black credit card courtesy of one Ichirou Moriyama. Dressed in a black hoodie, his stare hostile as he dared the half-asleep attendant to say something as the teenager rung him up, he was half-tempted to demand a pack of cigarettes before he left to return to the car.

Nathaniel would be upset if he resumed the habit, so he didn’t do anything.

(Nathaniel was already stressed out enough with all the changes.)

Andrew grabbed the credit card and bag of goods then left the store to return to the car, and noticed that Nathaniel had locked it during his absence. His soulmate gave him an anxious smile as he fell into the driver’s seat (hmm, very comfortable) and handed over the bag before he returned the card to his wallet then fastened his seatbelt.

“Really? Most of this stuff is junk,” Nathaniel complained as he grabbed a green tea and granola bar for himself.

“Guess I don’t have to share,” Andrew said as he fetched an energy drink and chocolate bar for himself; he felt something settle inside of himself when Nathaniel smiled at the joke.

“You’re gonna have to put up with Kevin soon enough,” his soulmate warned as he unwrapped the granola bar.

“And who do you think is gonna win?”

Nathaniel’s smile softened as he reached over to tug back Andrew’s hood. “Try not to beat him down too much.” Then his smile faded into a guilty expression. “You okay driving the last bit? We can stop somewhere.”

Andrew held up the energy drink. “This will see me through.” He popped it open and took a sip. “Once we get settled in, we’ll work on your driving lessons.”

“Yeah.” Nathaniel nibbled on the granola bar for a moment. “I… this is… I don’t….”

Andrew reached out to slide his hand into the voluminous black hood, to cup the back of his boyfriend’s nape. “We’ve got time now,” he assured Nathaniel. “No one’s going to drag you back to the Nest,” or Baltimore, “and you’ll figure this stuff out.”

Andrew would make sure he did, that Nathaniel got a chance to learn all the things he’d been deprived of, between being locked up in the mansion (death house) in Baltimore then caged in the Nest.

It was quiet while he returned to the interstate (save for the purr of the Maserati’s engine), then Nathaniel let out a loud sigh. “I just… I’ve never done anything like this before.”

No, he hadn’t, and despite that fact, he’d agreed to follow Andrew out of the Nest, to leave behind Jean (his pillar of support for years) to face the unknown. Maybe someone wouldn’t consider it such a big deal, switching campuses and teams, but Nathaniel’s life had been strictly controlled by Nathan and Tetsuji, had been restricted to school and his ‘house’ (the mansion in Baltimore, then the Nest). He’d never once gone anyplace without it being approved first, had never roamed freely, had never been free.

Andrew might have been abused and passed around, but he had been able (mostly) to go wherever he wanted (except while in juvie). Hell, some foster parents hadn’t given a damn where he went, as long as they could collect a check while he was their ‘responsibility’. So Nathaniel out in the big wide world was a shock to the redhead, one that Andrew was trying his best to cushion.

(He was there for his soulmate, someone to ground him, and even after all this time was amazed how Nathaniel’s anxiety settled at his mere presence.)

The last two hours passed mostly in silence, with Nathaniel reaching for Andrew’s right hand after he finished the granola bar and two green teas. Andrew threaded their fingers together while he followed the GPS to Winfield’s house, pleased to grant his soulmate that bit of comfort, especially as the interstate gave way to city roads and then to neighborhood streets.

“It’ll be okay,” he assured Nathaniel. “Kevin said we could trust her.” If not, then Kevin would be eating his own pickled liver.

“I know.” Nathaniel shivered as he glanced at the ranch-style houses that lined the road they drove along. “It’s just… this is so new to me.”

Andrew was quiet a moment before he stroked his thumb along his soulmate’s left hand. “If she’s not an addict of some sort, she’ll be new to me, too.” He refused to think about Cass just then.

Nathaniel gave him a horrified before he shook his head, a slight smile tugging at his lips. “Don’t, okay? Now’s not the time for our ‘who had it worse’ game.”

“Which I won,” Andrew insisted, even though that wasn’t quite true; it was basically a tie on different fronts.

“Whatever,” Nathaniel snorted, yet the tension left his body and he gave Andrew’s hand a gentle squeeze. “You’ll just go on about sleeping on the floor all the time so you can hog the bed, I bet.”

“Sleeping on the dirty floor, which is why I get to hog the blankets,” Andrew stated in a bland manner.

“As if you’re not gonna hog all the blankets anyway.”

Andrew hummed in a noncommittal manner (yes, he was going to hog all the blankets, thank you) as he pulled into Abby Winfield’s driveway; it was a nondescript split-level ranch, similar to the others on the street, with several Foxes’ flags planted in the marigold and daisy flowerbed.

For a moment, he debated his decision to have him and Nathaniel play for the Foxes, before he decided that it would be even more painful to join the Trojans.

(Dammit.)

He turned off the Maserati’s engine then reached for his cell phone so he could text Winfield that they’d arrived while Nathaniel stared at the house while nibbling on his full bottom lip (not a distraction at all). To his mild surprise, it only took a minute after his message had been sent before the front door of the house opened to reveal a woman in her early thirties, dressed in a light blue robe, her shoulder-length blonde hair tousled and a gentle smile on her face as she motioned for them to come inside.

“Uhm, she looks nice,” Nathaniel said in a quiet voice as he fiddled with his seat belt. From the doubtful tone to his voice, it was clear how well he knew that ‘looks nice’ didn’t mean that the person was nice.

“Stay behind me,” Andrew ordered; his boyfriend gave him a cool look for a moment before he nodded once.

Nathaniel may be the Butcher’s son, may be a Hatford, but they’d worked out over the past year or so (with a bit of trial and error) that Andrew faced the dangers first. Nathaniel was the one who knew Ichirou’s deepest secrets, who the Moriyama heir (and now lord) favored the most, so Andrew took the hits (and took them well, if at all), because if Nathaniel was hurt… well, it wasn’t good for either of them, if that happened.

Andrew protected Nathaniel, because Nathaniel was the one Ichirou needed the most. Nathaniel wasn’t happy about that, but Andrew didn’t know everything that his soulmate did, nor could he step in to Nathaniel’s spot if something happened to the polyglot idiot.

(He didn’t mind taking the blows when he knew his boyfriend was upset with each one that landed, when Nathaniel would gladly take them in his place. Nathaniel – Nat – never took him for granted. Never.)

(Nat was the only one who never did.)

They left the car and approached the small porch, Andrew in front, while Winfield’s smile brightened the closer they got. “You’re a bit early! I’d just put on a pot of coffee when I got your text.”

“No traffic,” Andrew said as he followed the woman into the house; Kevin swore that she was trustworthy, that they’d be fine staying with the team’s nurse until the dorms opened up in June. He wasn’t pleased to live with a stranger for several weeks, but it would attract less attention than if they rented a hotel room.

“I hope it wasn’t too bad of a drive,” Winfield said as she led them to a kitchen painted a bright yellow with yellow and white checkered curtains on the window and a table with six chairs; the aroma of brewing coffee filled the air, and a carton of eggs was set out on the counter. “Coffee will be ready soon, and I’ll make breakfast in a minute. Sit down, I’ll be right back,” she excused herself as she left the room, her left hand clutched on the front of her robe.

Considering that they’d been in a car for the last few hours, Andrew and Nathaniel remained standing; Nathaniel shuffled around the kitchen as he checked out the unfamiliar space, his movements jittery with anxiety. Andrew left him alone for a minute, then grabbed the hood of his shirt as he walked past to reel in him. “It’ll be okay,” he murmured in German as his soulmate slumped against him.

Nathaniel nibbled on his bottom lip while he nodded. “It’s just… this is all so… so weird.” He shivered a little before he rested his chin on Andrew’s left shoulder.

While Nathaniel was ecstatic to be rid of Riko and Tetsuji, he’d spent almost half his life in the Nest, and the other half had lived in constant fear while in the Butcher’s house. He was used to following rules (his small rebellions aside), to contained (twisted, stressful, dangerous) environments, to an existence that was anything but ordinary. He knew several languages, he knew how to take apart and put together a gun while blindfolded (and to shoot it), he knew dozens of ways to kill a person and how to maneuver through a good bit of the crime syndicates in North America (knew enough to bring down a good bit of the crime syndicates in North America), but he gazed in confusion at several appliances in Winfield’s kitchen, couldn’t drive and was floundering without Jean’s presence (even though he had told his partner to go join his soulmate).

Adjusting to the ‘real’ world was going to be quite the adventure for Nathaniel Wesninski.

(Andrew found it ironic as hell that he was the ‘well-adjusted’ one in that regard out of the two of them.)

Andrew had taken to massaging the small of his boyfriend’s back, which had prompted an appreciative murmur, right before Winfield returned to the kitchen, her cellphone in hand and dressed in pink sweatpants and a white t-shirt. “I’ve never heard David so cheerful this early on a Saturday morning, he-oh!” She smiled yet again to see them so close together, the expression tender; Nathaniel only pulled away a little so he could watch her movements. “He said he’ll be here with Kevin soon, so I guess I better make a lot to eat!”

“Uhm, thank you,” Nathaniel said in a quiet voice. “And thank you for letting us stay here.”

“It’s nothing, I have Foxes in and out of here all the time!” Winfield motioned around with an egg in her right hand before she cracked it into a large bowl. “Let me get this started then I’ll show you your room and you can bring your stuff in.” She gave them a wink while she continued to crack the eggs. “Kevin said you’ll be sharing a room, right? That means Aaron won’t be sleeping on a couch when he arrives.”

“Yes,” Andrew agreed as he gave Nathaniel’s right hip a quick squeeze then let go so he could pour himself a cup of coffee; there were mugs set out by the coffee machine, along with a small pint of cream and a bowl of sugar. He held up the pot before pouring a second cup, which he did after Nathaniel nodded.

He’d just prepared his drink to his satisfaction (with Nathaniel wrinkling his nose over the amount of sugar and cream dumped into the mug) when Winfield stepped away from the stove. “Okay, now for a quick tour.”

They’d already seen the living and dining room from the kitchen, so she took them down the long hallway to their bedroom for the next several weeks, pointing out the linen closet and bathroom along the way. The room had a queen-sized bed, a nightstand and a small dresser that would easily hold all of their belongings during their stay, decorated in pale cream and blues. Nathaniel blinked a couple times after entering the room, probably never having witnessed something so… ‘homey’ in his life, while Andrew could put up with the lace curtains and flowers on the bedspread since the space was clean and not painted black.

Winfield next showed them the lower level as they went to the car for their belongings, which housed the washer and dryer, along with a den with a television and gaming console (which would make Aaron happy when he returned from visiting Nicky in Germany), and a treadmill (which would make Nathaniel happy) along with some other exercise equipment. While she returned to the kitchen to resume making their breakfast, Andrew and Nathaniel fetched the few bags they’d brought with them from Edgar Allan.

Most of the belongings were Andrew’s, were what he’d taken to the university back when he’d been a freshman and what he’d collected over the last two years (mostly books). Nathaniel owned very little in the way of personal items, and they’d both agreed to leave behind as much as they could that was tied to the Ravens and Edgar Allan, so he didn’t have anything other than a few changes of clothes, a suit gifted to him from Ichirou (necessary for when he was called on for ‘business’), things he required for school and those rare personal items.

Shopping was at the top of their agenda.

It didn’t take them long to unpack; they returned to the kitchen to refill their coffee mugs and help Winfield (well, Nathaniel offered) set the table. Shortly after that was done, the front door of the house opened and a loud voice called out. “Abby! Get your sutures ready, there’s a mouth I need you to sew shut!”

“But it would be so much better if we-“

“For the last time, we’re not completely revamping the practice schedule! Another word out of you and not only will I sew your lips shut, but I’ll take away your keys to the court!”

Nathaniel shuffled closer to Andrew as David Wymack, coach of the PSU Foxes, stomped into the kitchen, a large box of what appeared to be donuts held in his left hand; he was dressed in dark blue sweatpants and a faded orange and white t-shirt with the team’s logo on front. Right behind him was Kevin, dressed in his usual black jeans and a black t-shirt, who smiled when he caught sight of the two of them then rushed over to give Nathaniel a hug.

“You look good, both of you do,” he told Andrew’s soulmate, who allowed the embrace for a couple seconds, while in the background Winfield chided Wymack about the whole ‘sew mouth shut’ thing. “Glad to be here?” Once he let go of Nathaniel, he gave Andrew a polite nod in greeting.

“It’s much better than the Nest,” Nathaniel hedged, which really wasn’t much of an answer since juvie had been better than the Nest, in Andrew’s opinion. Still, Kevin didn’t seem to pick up on it, especially since his father decided to join the conversation right then.

“I have never seen this one,” he gave Kevin’s dark hair an affectionate tousle, “so wide awake this early when practice isn’t involved. I thought I’d have to drag him out of bed, but all it took was hearing that the two of you were here and he got up right away.”

Kevin frowned as he attempted to restore order to his hair then gave a gentle shove to his father’s side. “We’ve been waiting for them to join the team for how many months now,” he complained; Andrew ignored the father-son bonding (or whatever it was) so he could investigate the box of donuts, with Nathaniel right behind him despite the fact that he disliked sweets. Wymack noticed Nathaniel’s ‘clinginess’, especially when redhead didn’t grab a donut for himself.

Then again, Nathaniel had been cagey around the man whenever they’d met (when the Ravens had played against the Foxes or at the district banquets), under the premises of Nathaniel talking to Kevin (supposedly to come back to Edgar Allan). He’d made sure to stay out of Wymack’s reach the entire time they’d given an update about how things were going with Riko, wary of any adult male who reminded him of Nathan Wesninski.

“The board will be happy to know you’re finally here, considering the fits they threw over me holding open two spots on the team so late.” Wymack slowly backed away and leaned against the counter, his tattooed arms folded across his broad chest. “Though they feel it’s worth the aggravation in the end, considering we signed two more Ravens.”

“Ex-Ravens,” Nathaniel murmured as he gave Andrew a queasy glance for the large bearclaw he picked from the box for his second donut, the cream-filled one already devoured.

Wymack huffed in approval while Kevin glared at Andrew (and was blithely ignored). “Yes, exactly. You two are officially Foxes now, your gear’s in your lockers and your numbers locked in.” He gave them an amused look while Kevin appeared smug. “You’re lucky your numbers were available, though part of that is nobody wanting to touch #3 and Renee being willing to change her number for her last season.”

Andrew narrowed his eyes while he swallowed a bite of pastry. “Why did she do that?” Players tended to be attached to their numbers for some reason, not that he gave a damn about his own, even if it was tattooed on his left cheek.

Wymack glanced at Kevin before he spoke. “Because she’s not planning on joining to the pros once she graduates; she enjoys playing Exy, but she accepted the scholarship so she could get a college degree and she believes what we’re doing here with the Foxes. She feels that you’re more invested in the sport than she is, so she’s fine with changing on her number.”

Didn’t that sound like everything he knew about one Renee Walker (at least officially)? Andrew didn’t give a damn about Exy, it was just something that had allowed him to get out of a bunch of boring therapy sessions, to keep an eye on Aaron, to give Aaron a chance of a university degree, to allow him near his soulmate, to protect said soulmate….

It gave him Nathaniel.

So what if he ended up playing it for the next decade or so? Nathaniel would be by his side (except for the year where he went to the pros and Nathaniel remained behind for his last year in university) while he ‘suffered’ through it all; it didn’t matter what number he wore on his uniform or what team he played for as long as his soulmate was there beside him.

“It’s just a number,” he muttered before he tossed another piece of pastry into his mouth.

“You know it’s more than that,” Kevin argued as he rubbed the ‘2’ on his left cheek. “There might not be a Perfect Court anymore, but we’re still considered among the best players in Exy. There are… certain expectations for us.” Judging from the way he glanced at Nathaniel then back at Andrew and Wymack’s expression hardened while he talked, he didn’t mean their fans.

Kevin might not know where all the bodies were buried or had played a major part in taking down the side branch, but he still answered to Ichirou in the end.

“We’re well aware of what’s expected of us,” Nathaniel said as he stared Kevin down.

It was quiet in the kitchen after that, until Winfield cleared her throat a couple minutes later. “Breakfast is ready so why doesn’t everyone sit down?” She gave them a nervous smile as she motioned to the table; once they shuffled toward the chairs, she brought over a large pan filled with scrambled eggs, cheese and hashbrowns, followed by a plate of sausage.

Nathaniel eyed the meal with trepidation, but at least helped himself to the egg mix, probably thinking with longing of his usual oatmeal and fruit, while Andrew would have been fine with the donuts. He noticed that Winfield and Wymack bore the same soulmate marks on their forearms (what looked to be a daisy-like flower and tower), which might explain why Katelyn Day had kept Kevin a secret from the man. Winfield told them that they could help themselves to whatever was in the kitchen or make their own meals, and that she was willing to cook around any dietary requirements.

“Ah, we don’t want to bother you,” Nathaniel said as he picked at his food (at least until Andrew gave a light kick to his right ankle). “We don’t eat anything too complicated, just….”

“I’m familiar with Kevin’s diet,” she told them as she gave their friend an affectionate look. “And he told me that you like fruit. “We’ll work something out that’ll fit in with what you’re used to but won’t be as strict.”

“Or flavorless.” When Nathaniel gave Andrew a narrow look for the complaint, he rolled his eyes. “Try to tell me that you weren’t bored with steamed fish and rice.”

The left corner of Nathaniel’s mouth quirked upward as he flicked aside another piece of hashbrown from his eggs. “I think all that chocolate you eat ruined your tastebuds.”

And who was it that gave him said chocolate, often smuggled into the Nest? Andrew huffed as he scooped up the potatoes to eat himself.

“So, your uniforms and gear’s ready, it arrived the other day,” Kevin said as he pushed his empty plate aside. “We can start practicing tomorrow, I’ve some ideas that-“

“No.”

Kevin gaped at Andrew for that flat denial, while Wymack held his mug between his hands and leaned back in his chair, Winfield got up to clear the empty plates from the table and Nathaniel stilled. “What do you mean, ‘no’? You came here early to-“

“We came here to get out of the Nest, since it’s crawling with reporters and we’re no longer Ravens,” Andrew reminded Kevin and Wymack. “And to give us,” more Nathaniel, “time to adjust. Which means Exy’s going to wait a bit.”

“But-“ Kevin, the Exy addict that he was, turned to Nathaniel, the other Exy junkie at the table. “Don’t you want to get back out on court as soon as possible?”

Nathaniel let out a slow breath and scooted his chair away from the table until he could bring his right knee up and hug his bent leg against his chest; he looked so small and uncertain while hunched over like that, looked so helpless, but Andrew knew that it placed his hands near the knife holstered around his right ankle. “You forget that Jean and I had next to nothing that wasn’t given to us by the Moriyamas,” he reminded Kevin. “Andrew and I need to go shopping tomorrow.”

“You can-“

Wymack cut off his son with a stern look before he nodded at Andrew and his soulmate. “The court’s not going anywhere, get settled in first. I can give you the team’s p-card if you’re low on funds.”

“Did you see the car outside?” Kevin muttered, appearing upset over having his Exy playtime denied, only to wince when Winfield get a slight smack to the back of his head before she rejoined them at the table. “Ow!”

“We’re fine,” Nathaniel answered while Andrew shook his head; while he wasn’t a big fan of accepting handouts from anyone, especially a Moriyama, he figured that Nathaniel was owed for all the work he’d done over the years so Ichirou could pay for a few new wardrobes (at the least).

“Right, how many times have I-“

“Dad, the car!”

“Leave them be, David, I’m sure they’ll ask for help if they need it.”

Wymack scoffed at that remark but dropped the subject after giving Andrew and Nathaniel a dubious look; the rest of the meal passed in relative silence. Before Wymack and Kevin left, Wymack handed over a set of keys to them, which apparently would let them into the Palmetto Court (so would the lock picks in their possession, but there were some things their new coach didn’t need to know). “Call me when you’re ready to practice so I can show you around and give you the code to get in.”

“It’s going to be great to be on the same team again,” Kevin said in passing. “I’ve got all these ideas for us.”

“Don’t scare them away, you moron,” his father chided as he shoved Kevin toward the front door. “It’s not too late for them to run for the hills.”

Kevin mumbled something about it being all right, his voice cut off by the door closing behind him.

Nathaniel stared after the two men, a slight smile on his face, only to twitch when Winfield stood up from the table. “It’s so nice to see Kevin excited again. He’s been a bit depressed about the championship game, but you coming here has cheered him up.”

“Oh.” Nathaniel shared a look with Andrew; they knew that Kevin, for some strange reason, had been upset over the whole ‘Riko locked up’ thing (what had he thought would happen to the psychotic prick?), but they let Winfield think whatever she wanted about the matter. “Uhm, we can help,” he offered when she started to clear off the table.

“No, it’s all right, why don’t you two go rest or something?” she told them. “You look tired. I’m going to let the dishes soak then run some errands.”

Andrew didn’t need to be told twice (not that he wanted to do chores in the first place); he grabbed his soulmate’s left hand and pulled him away from the table before Nathaniel got them stuck washing the dishes or something equally lame.

The bedroom door had a lock on it, but it was the basic type found in most houses and could easily be broken with a bit of effort; Andrew resolved to get a better one while they were out shopping tomorrow. For the time being, he piled their bags in front of the door, so at least they’d have some warning if anyone tried to enter the room while they slept.

Nathaniel sat on the bed and watched him ‘barricade’ the door, a slight smile on his face. “Suspecting Kevin to burst in here to drag us off to court?”

“Would you even put up a fight if he did?”

“Hmm, maybe not if it’s after our nap.” Nathaniel tilted his head back as Andrew approached the bed, his smile growing as Andrew combed his fingers through his soulmate’s unruly hair.

“Why do I put up with a junkie like you?” Andrew murmured as he rubbed his thumbs along Nathaniel’s elegant cheekbones.

“Because I’m your sweetpea,” Nathaniel reminded him, amusement and affection bright in his pale blue eyes.

Andrew made a gagging sound as he pushed his soulmate down onto the bed. “The lack of sleep has made you delirious. Take off your clothes.”

“That doesn’t sound like we’ll be sleeping then.” Nathaniel laughed for the first time since Jean had left for California, the sound short but teasing, when Andrew threw his own shirt at the idiot’s face.

“I’m about to smother you with a pillow,” he threatened as he shoved down his jeans (and refused to be unaffected by the sight of Nathaniel shimmying out of his own pair, those long legs bared and pert ass- not now).

“I thought we were supposed to talk about new kinks beforehand.”

Andrew sighed as he slid between the sheets (baby blue, but soft so he’d bear with them). “Nat… shut up and sleep.” His boyfriend got like this sometimes when he was stressed, would be one flippant comment after the other in a show of false bravado. Nathaniel’s wry smile faltered for a moment, then he curled up close to Andrew while giving him an almost pleading look.

Clicking his tongue over the idiot’s concern, Andrew pulled Nathaniel against him. “I’m going to gut Kevin if he does break in here,” he said while he removed his armbands (to tuck beneath the pillow), once his soulmate was settled against his left side.

“Hmm, okay. He should know better, though, after I threw a knife at him the one time.”

Huh, Andrew hadn’t heard that story yet. He made a mental note to ask about it after they woke up, then pushed all thoughts out of his mind (everything they had to do, Ichirou, Kevin, the Foxes, checking up on Jean…) so he could fall asleep, Nathaniel’s breath and slow even against his shoulder.

*******

Yeah, I just couldn’t see writing yet again the whole ‘we’re gonna take down Riko’ storyline, so I skipped it. Now to show Andrew and Nathaniel joining the Foxes (and obviously, the impact that has on them, especially Nathaniel). Aaron will be joining shortly, and Jean will show up long-distance-wise for now (can’t pull him away from Jeremy now that he’s finally with his soulmate).

Oh, and Kevin obviously has a really good relationship with Wymack here. Confessing the truth earlier helped a lot in that regard (something Jean and Nathaniel got on Kevin to do).

I guess I gotta come up with a title for this? *sighs*

#aftg #raven!andrew #raven!neil #well #sorta #soulmate au #andreil soulmates #neil josten #andrew minyard #neil as nathaniel #kevin day #david wymack #abby winfield #andrew is very very very protective here #seriously #poor neil is a bit overwhelmed #like how do you live when you're not completely surrounded by psychopaths?#drew that person is smiling at me i think they're plotting to poison our food i'll stab em you create a diversion #andrew just wants his chocolate chip pancakes without a side of blood

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peaceoutofthepieces · 5 years ago

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chapter 22.5

When My Phone Turns Off

You can all thank @ciaraparkie for pointing out that this is the best way of doing this particular plot point. You can assume it occurred yesterday after the events of chapter 22, or today before the events of the next chapter.

Jens is glad this is one of the days they’ve planned to meet up with Sander after school so they could all head to the skatepark together. He never thought he’d be so happy about such a thing, but he’s a little relieved to have that extra source of support. Robbe, however, gives him a worried glance and leans in close to him, asking, “Is it okay that Sander’s here?”

Jens purses his lips and nods, squeezing Robbe’s shoulder reassuringly. Sander notices, and obviously understands, asking, “You’re doing that today?”

“Yeah,” Jens sighs, glancing at Moyo and Aaron a few paces ahead. He doesn’t know why he’s worried. At this point, they’ve spent enough time with Robbe and Sander that it’d be impossible to still be secretly hiding any problem with it. At least, he thinks so. At this point, they’re actively supportive.

But for Jens to come out now, months later...he’s worried it’s going to be a little weird. Again.

“Yo, pussies,” Moyo calls back to them. “Are you planning on actually making it to the park today or what?”

Jens flips him off and he laughs, pushing Aaron ahead of him and jogging on down the street. Robbe gives Jens a small smile and Sander gives his back a reassuring pat. Jens takes a breath and follows them.

At the skatepark, he sits at the top of a ramp with Sander and watches the others do a few runs. He waits for Robbe to start showing off, but he’s too busy sending glances at them to try many tricks. Sander watches him in awe regardless, sitting silently next to Jens with his camera at the ready.

“You don’t have to tell them today, you know,” Sander says. “When Robbe asked, he was trying to rush you.”

Jens sighs. “I know. Of course I know that. But I’ve already been not telling them for weeks.”

“Yeah but you’ve only known for weeks. You don’t owe it to anyone to tell them. Not if you don’t want to, not before you’re ready.”

“It’s different, though,” Jens points out. “With Lucas. There’s more to it than just telling them I’m bi.”

“You’re what?”

Jens and Sander look up to find Moyo standing behind them, face surprised as he stares at Jens. Jens can’t see any malice there, any disgust, and yet his chest tightens all the same. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. He was supposed to actually tell them, not have them overhear. Sander sends him a look, worried and apologetic, and Jens simply shrugs. He isn’t going to take it back now, even if it isn’t going exactly as planned.

He didn’t have that much of a plan in the first place.

He catches Robbe’s gaze and beckons him over, watching him collect Aaron on his way. Moyo sits down next to Jens as Robbe jogs up and tucks himself into Sander’s side. Once Aaron’s seated next to Moyo, Jens twists around to face them and tries to be comforted by the knowledge of Robbe and Sander at his back. Moyo’s eyes flit over his face, questioning. “You’re bi?”

“What?” Aaron asks, mouth dropping open.

Jens smiles slightly and gives them a small shrug. “Yeah.”

Moyo licks his lips, shaking his head, as Aaron blinks at him. “Since when?” Moyo asks.

Jens hears Sander huff a laugh. “Since always, I guess. Since when have I known? A few weeks.

Moyo nods, looking straight ahead. Aaron looks between the two of them before settling his focus on Jens. “And what,” he pauses, clearing his throat, “what made you, uhm, realise this?”

Jens bites his lip, debates for a second, and then says, “It was Moyo, actually.”

Moyo whips back around to look at him, wide-eyed. “Me?” he demands, as Robbe bursts out laughing.

Jens joins him, giggling lightly as he says, “No, not like that. Damn. I mean, when you told us to check out other YouTube channels, I...I found this guy.” Moyo nods in understanding and waits for him to continue. Jens sighs. “It’s kind of a long story?”

Moyo shares a look with Aaron, then shrugs. He offers Jens a smile. “We’ve got time.”

So, Jens tells them much the same story as he told Robbe. He allows himself to go into a little more detail, backtracking when he realises he’s left something out. Robbe points these out occasionally, when Jens gets lost and starts going too fast, but aside from that there aren’t many interruptions. Moyo and Aaron listen intently, as does Sander, taking in Jens’s full account of the story instead of Robbe’s passed-on information. It makes his chest pinch, talking about it again, talking about it out loud, reminding himself of Lucas at all. It also feels therapeutic, more so than when he talked about it with Robbe, when the hurt was still too raw, the wound still too fresh. There’s still a thread of pain there, twined tightly with a spool of anger, all doused in the overwhelming feeling of loss that he’d felt even before blocking the boy, as soon as the realisation had set in.

Moyo and Aaron are silent when he’s done, taking it all in, considering. Jens doesn’t expect to get anything new out of this, doesn’t expect them to give him any reassurance that Robbe hasn’t already.

Still, they try.

“Maybe he is telling the truth, though?” Aaron tries. “About you, I mean. It sounds like he was being sincere?”

Moyo nods. “Yeah, man. Like, why would you go to that much work just for a joke? And why would he follow you, like your posts and shit if he was just playing a game?”

“He didn’t know it was me,” Jens points out.

“When he followed you, yeah,” Moyo agrees. “But after that? It doesn’t fit. Why would he flirt with you, and come out to you and whatever all for a joke? I would’ve been the kind of person to take the piss like that and I never would have gone to that much effort. That’d take like, a seriously sick person. And I don’t think this dude is like that. Really.”

Jens sighs, slumping until his back hits Sander’s shoulder. Sander makes a small noise of protest, but doesn’t push him off. Robbe laughs quietly and says, “I’ve already told you all this, but if Moyo thinks it's sick and wouldn’t do it, I can’t imagine Lucas would. Imagine how much of a dick he’d have to be.”

Moyo flips Robbe off, but also gestures his agreement. Jens smiles, shaking his head at them. “I was hoping you two would be on my side,” he jokes.

“Well this whole not thinking he’s really into you thing reminds me of another situation,” Moyo points out, with a pointed look over Jens’s shoulder. Sander squeezes Robbe closer to his side and drops a kiss onto his head. “And it worked out okay for them.”

“He has a point,” Sander shrugs, purposefully jostling Jens and earning a grumble in answer. “If he really means that much to you, maybe it’s worth fighting for him.”

“Or at least forgiving him,” Robbe adds softly. Jens looks back at him and Robbe gives a little shrug. “You’ll never be able to let it go if you leave it without some kind of resolution. You’ll always either be mad or wondering if you were wrong. Or both.”

Jens really hates when Robbe’s right.

Still, he shakes his head. “I can’t go back on myself now. I definitely can’t be the one to reach out. That’s a whole new level of pathetic.”

Aaron shrugs. “Maybe he’d like you taking pathetic to a new level.”

Moyo looks around him and makes a face. “What the fuck, man? No. He’s not doing that.” He turns back to Jens. “You’re not doing that, right?”

“Right,” Jens agrees quickly. Even if he’s willing to forgive Lucas, or at least hear him out, at least consider that he was honest about his feelings, he isn’t going to go crawling back to him. Ever. Lucas doesn’t deserve that amount of attention from him. But, maybe he could be convinced to unblock him, eventually. To leave the ball in Lucas’s court.

He’ll have probably already moved on by then, anyway.

“What does this guy look like, anyway?” Aaron questions. “Did you do as well as Robbe?”

Jens snorts as Sander grins, but he pulls up a pic of Lucas. “Nice,” Sander says.

Jens twists around to look at him. “Robbe didn’t show you?” Sander shakes his head, so Jens passes him the phone.

Sander considers the last image Lucas posted, complete with his personal favourite black and white filter, and simply comments, “Cute. I understand why you’d watch his videos.”

Robbe makes an indignant sound and Jens laughs, passing the phone to Moyo and Aaron, who huddle together to examine it. They both hum, and Aaron shrugs as Moyo gives the phone back to Jens. “I mean, he’s no Sander, but…”

“But he’s pretty fucking pretty?” Jens finishes. “Yeah. I know.”

Sander reaches around Jens to pinch his cheek. “But not as pretty as you,” he cooes. Jens bats him away.

“Listen, we can’t tell you what to do, but Robbe’s right. I think you should give him a second chance,” Moyo says.

Jens raises a brow. “Honestly, I didn’t think you’d be so…”

“Supportive?” Robbe offers.

“I was gonna say chill but, yeah, actually.”

Moyo huffs, looking away from them as he says. “I get that last time wasn’t my best moment but...I’m not good at apologising, okay? I know I’m not good at these things. I’m learning. But you know I love you, man,” he punches Jens’s arm. “That’s enough, yeah?”

Jens nods, returning his smile. Since the start of their friendship, Moyo’s been closer to Jens than he ever was to Robbe. Their friendship maybe even improved after everything, when Moyo made it clear that even though he wasn’t sure how to react and didn’t know how to be supportive at the time, he wasn’t willing to lose Robbe over it. Jens is glad the same sentiment extends to him, and that he’s coming out at a time where they’re all a bit more educated.

“It won’t be a problem anymore if you’re all done coming out to me,” Moyo points out, giving Aaron a look. It takes Aaron a moment to notice him, but then he starts sputtering, pointing out that he already has a girlfriend and being hit back with the reminder that all three of the others also had girlfriends.

“Okay but wait,” Aaron says, returning his attention to Jens. “Does this mean you’d fuck me?”

“Man,” Moyo says, as Robbe and Jens start laughing.

“No. Sorry bro,” Jens apologises.

Aaron groans. “Who, out of us then?”

“Obviously me,” Moyo says.

“No,” Jens laughs. “Out of you? Sander.”

“Really?” Sander asks, sounding genuinely intrigued.

Robbe moves from under his arm, sitting up to pout at them. “Hey, Sander wasn’t an option last time, it’s supposed to be out of the Broerrrs.”

“Sander is an honorary Broerrr,” Jens points out.

“True, but Robbe’s right,” Moyo says. “Sander wasn’t an option last time.”

“Then Robbe,” Jens says immediately. Robbe cheers, offering Jens a fist bump.

“Seriously?” Aaron gawks. “What the fuck.”

“You’re last again, man,” Moyo laughs.

Aaron protests, “No, he didn’t pick between us.” Moyo rolls his eyes, but they both look to Jens. Jens points at Moyo and Aaron groans.

While they’re laughing, Jens feels at peace. He realises that, for a moment, he’d completely forgotten about Lucas.

#van der stoffels #vds #jens x lucas #wtfock #skam nl #when my phone turns off #wmpto

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deamstellarus · 5 years ago

Text

In Viata Asta (1)

Pairing: Stucky x Reader

Summary: It was possible you’d been on your own for too long. Maybe all you needed were two boys from Brooklyn to help you find yourself again.

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: Uhm...some violence, language I guess?

Series Masterlist

A/N: So I started this fic last summer and I just got around to editing it, but I hope you guys like it. It starts in 2018, and we’re gonna ignore the main MCU plots after Age of Ultron (also Clint does have a secret fam but they’re his sister and nieces/nephews because it literally makes so much more sense). Definitely some canon-divergence. And I’m trying for a slow burn. Anyways... enjoy.

__________

You struggled in the dark, kicking your legs as hard as you could, trying to get close to the light you saw at the surface of the water. Your legs were useless, your body felt like lead, dragging you deeper into the abyss. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t reach the top. Just a little more…

Then you saw his face, his eyes wild. And his hand reached out toward you. You stretched for it, your fingers grazing his. He tightens his grip around yours, sending you that nervous smile he reserved for when you were in desperate situations and he wanted to reassure you. Even when it was all going to hell. You felt a tug upward, your body being pulled toward the surface.

Then there was a bullet hole in his forehead.

His hold on you was gone. His eyes frozen wide open.

You opened your mouth to scream…

You gasped awake, jolting up in bed. Panting, your hand flew to your chest. Your eyes darted around the cabin, confirming it was another nightmare. You squeezed your eyes closed. Ten, nine, eight, seven... an attempt to slow your heart rate. You shouldn’t be surprised at this point. You had the dreams often enough, your subconscious morphing the memory, each time more disturbing than before.

When you could take full breaths again, you flopped back onto your pillows, staring up at the stars that peaked between the leaves through the skylight. You wished they could stop making such a common appearance in your nightly routine. Your sleep schedule was shit, and if you were being honest, it had long since taken a toll on you.

Maybe your friends were right, a change of scenery might be just what you need.

__________

A creak sounded from the front porch. Your head snapped to the door. It wasn’t exactly uncommon for the local wildlife to make an appearance on your front steps, curious about the structure in the middle of their forest and sniffing for food. It was, however, unusual for creatures to come around in the middle of the night, they were more likely to come wandering through just before sunrise.

Your eyes slid to the digital clock on the small nightstand beside your bed. The time confirmed your theory, still a few hours until daybreak - far too early for anything other than trouble. Another groan from the wood boards of the porch and some shuffling had you leaping out of bed and reaching for the knife next to the clock -- one of several knives you kept around the cabin. Through the windows, you could vaguely make out a few shadowy figures in the obstructed moonlight.

With the smooth blade in your hand, you slowly crept down the stairs leading from the loft and toward the kitchen drawer that held a couple hand guns; your blade hand poised and ready to strike when the time called for it. Your eyes never left the door. Your fingertips had just brushed against the handle of the drawer when you heard the quiet snitch of the latch and the door creaked open.

You threw out of instinct.

A hand shot out, catching the knife by the handle. With the door wide open now, the silhouettes became more distinct. You counted three bodies, but you couldn’t be sure there weren’t more surrounding your cabin. You took a step forward with your gun now in hand, fully intending to strike, until a sliver of color caught your attention. You squinted. The dim light made it hard to see but you’d recognize that copper hair anywhere. In fuller light, you suspected you’d see her signature smirk.

“Is that any way to treat your friend, zvezdochka?” You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Flicking on a light, you made your way to your old friend.

“Fuck Tash, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were coming by.” You pulled her into your arms for a much needed hug. She jerked beneath you upon contact. That wasn’t normal. You released her, searching her for injuries. She had a large gash in her abdomen, and while the bleeding had stopped for now, it would have to be fixed immediately.

“Yeah, it’s a long story, Blue. Sorry we didn’t give you a heads up.”

“I hate to be rude, but can we get out of the cold?” A voice said.

Just that quickly, you’d forgotten about the other two people in your company. A man with warm brown skin and a metal pack of some kind strapped to his back stood behind Natasha. Next to him was a man you’d seen on the news several times. The TV stations didn’t do the man justice. Captain America was in your cabin in the woods, and you were suddenly very aware just how little you were actually wearing at the moment. You tugged at the hem of the over-sized shirt you’d stolen from Clint months ago.

“Sorry! Please, come in.” You ushered them passed you and locked the door behind them.

“Guys, this is Blue. Blue, meet Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson,” Natasha said, setting your knife on the coffee table in front of the couch.

“Sorry about intruding, ma'am.” Captain America was apologizing to you. That's sweet.

“Don't you worry your pretty little head about it.” That earned you a blush from the blonde. “And I'm far younger than you. 'Ma'am' is not necessary, Captain.”

“Steve. You can call me Steve.” The pink on his cheeks spread down his neck, and if he were to take his suit off, you were sure his chest would be sporting the same rosy hue.

“Fair enough. It’s nice to meet you both, and I would say it’s great to see you again, Tash, but it seems like it’s under… difficult circumstances.” Natasha waved you off.

“Minor shootout on a mountain. Nothing we haven’t done before.”

“Minor shootout, she says,” you scoffed. “You need to be more careful. Come on.” You grabbed her by the elbow and pulled her to the kitchen. “There’s a bathroom through the door on the right, if you guys want to clean up,” you pointed behind you.

You could hear the shuffling of their feet as they dispersed through your home for the past year. You made Natasha sit on a stool by the overhang counter, while you rummaged around in a cabinet for your first aid kit. You peeled the top of her suit down and pulled up the tank top she wore underneath. The large gash looked uglier exposed in the light but nothing you couldn't work with for now. You soaked a cotton ball with alcohol and wiped the area clean as gently as you could. She hissed upon contact but didn’t say anything. You slid a bottle of whiskey to her before you pushed the tip of some surgical thread through a needle. She took a swig and you started to sew up the wound. You could feel her eyes on you. When you were done, you smoothed on antiseptic ointment and covered it with a bandage. It would have to do for now. You turned to put the kit away and washed your hands. She still hadn’t said anything to you. You sighed.

“I can practically hear you thinking, you know.”

“I see your aim hasn’t changed, zvezdochka.” Here it comes. It was only a matter of time. “You could be putting your skills to good use.”

“Natasha, khvatit. We’ve been over this. I’m not going back.”

You slid a cutting board from its place along the wall before gathering ingredients at random. You quickly diced an onion and minced a couple cloves of garlic, sautéing them in a saucepan on the stove, before pouring in a couple cans of crushed tomatoes. A bit of tomato paste, along with oregano, salt, pepper, and a couple of bay leaves, and you had your go-to sauce mostly done. You gave it a stir and covered it, bringing down the heat to a simmer when it showed signs of boiling. You glanced behind you when you hadn’t heard anything from Natasha. She looked frustrated, her brows furrowed, but held her tongue. You pulled the cork on a bottle of sweet moscato and poured her a glass, replacing the whiskey bottle in front of her.

“Look, it has nothing to do with you. You know I love you and I miss you and Clint. I actually just texted him yesterday but he hasn’t responded yet.”

“Yeah, he’s on an op in East Asia right now.” She paused. “You should see his hair, he uses more product now than ever.” Her tone was light, the previous topic dropped for now. You chuckled, Clint had always used heavy amounts of hair gel. You’d teased him endlessly about it once upon a time.

“Hey, can you go tell your friends there are some of Clint’s old shirts and maybe a few pairs of sweats that might fit in my dresser, if they want to change. This’ll be ready soon.”

“Sure.” You flinched at her closeness, not expecting her to be so close to you. She pecked your cheek and threw her arms around you, squeezing you as she would have before, had she not been freshly injured. She released you and sauntered out of your kitchen, leaving you to your thoughts. In another pot, you filled it with water, then set it on the stove to start heating it up.

Your mind wandered as you waited for the water to boil. You didn’t miss that Natasha hadn’t told you where the three of them had been on their mission. Nor why they’d been on a mountain in the first place. In all fairness, she didn’t have to, couldn’t if she were following S.H.I.E.L.D. rules.

But it did make you nervous. You doubt anyone would have followed them to your location in the middle of the thick wilderness in northern Washington. But then again, they had been near enough your location that Natasha thought your safe haven of a cabin was the best option. That unsettled you, but she wouldn’t have given up this location if it wasn’t absolutely necessary. You were going to have to keep a look out if there were unsavory people in the area.

The water started to boil, so you threw in a few dashes of olive oil and some salt. You felt the presence of someone behind you as you dumped the linguine into the bubbling water.

“You know, it’s not polite to stare, Captain.”

You peeked over your shoulder. You’d only just met him but making America’s Golden Boy blush was becoming your new favorite hobby. His face had been cleaned of dirt and the few cuts on his face were already healing. Must be that super soldier serum you’d read about. He was wearing an old white t-shirt that was definitely a size or two too small, and a pair of sweatpants that you were certain would show off his ass nicely if he turned around. And yet, he looked far more relaxed than he’d been when he first stumbled through your door.

“I, uh... thank you, for letting us crash here,” he stuttered. You gestured to the bar stool Natasha previously occupied and he sat down.

“It’s not a problem, Steve. Anything for the friends of Natasha and Clint.” You took the lid off the sauce. Steam billowed into your face as your stirred.

“How do you know them anyway?”

“Ah ah, that’s a story for another time, Mr. Rogers. Now, do you want cheese on your pasta?” He smiled and nodded. You handed him a slicer and a block of parmesan after you showed him how to make cheese curls.

By the time Natasha and Sam stepped into the kitchen, the two of you had just finished filling the bowls around the table.

“Mmm, something smells amazing,” Sam said. He, too, looked more comfortable out of his combat mission-wear. He landed heavily into the chair next to Steve at the table, a strong contrast to Natasha's elegant descent next to you.

“It should be. It’s one of my go-to recipes. I hope you like it.” You pushed a bowl in front of him. He all but inhaled the first few forkfuls, switching between moaning and taking in sharp breaths from the heat of the food.

“Girl, this is amazing.” You nodded your appreciation. To Natasha and Steve, he said, “Can we keep her?” Your cheeks warmed. Natasha smirked.

“Maybe if you ask nicely.”

Her eyes were playful. She seemed much better from the last time you’d seen her around Christmas. Natasha and Clint had been brief in their visit, having stopped over long enough to bring you a few gifts-- a fuzzy blanket, thick socks, and a beautiful new knife-- before leaving abruptly for another mission they couldn’t miss. She had been tense then, frown lines gracing her face. Observing her now, there was a certain slack visible in her shoulders, and the creases in her forehead had given way to smile lines around her mouth instead, faint as they were. She was still beautiful as always though, still your pseudo big sister.

“Maybe I’ll come visit New York soon, Bird Man.” You bit back a laugh at his outrage at the nickname.

“Has she been talking to Barnes? Geeze, can’t catch a break,” he grumbled.

“Sorry, I don’t have a great filter sometimes. But you are the Falcon, right? It’s fitting.” You shrugged. “Suppose I can think of something else if I’m not being original enough for you.” Sam just rolled his eyes.

“This really is great, ma’- ah… Blue?” Steve’s comment came out like a question.

“Yeah, Clint’s nickname for me. Blue Moon, like the ice cream? I had blue hair when we met. I kept it up for a while and the nickname stuck. Everyone used to call me that.” You shrugged. “I guess I’ve gotten used to it.”

Steve nodded. You finished your pasta and rinsed the bowl in the sink. “Anyway, I’m sure you guys are exhausted. There’s not a ton of room here, but a couple of you can take the back room, the bed should be big enough for two. And my loft is available, if you don’t mind a little climb, just watch your head. There are extra blankets and a couple pillows in the linen closet. Please make yourselves at home.”

“What about you?” Steve asked.

“Don’t you worry about me, Captain.” You knew you weren’t getting sleep any time soon, the small couch in front of the fireplace calling your name. “I’ll be just fine.”

__________

They didn’t fight you on it. Two hours later, Natasha and Sam were cuddled together in the bed in the back room. You found that interesting and made a mental note to bring it up with her later. Steve on the other hand was curled into your bed in the loft. The low ceiling made him look like even more of a giant within the small space, especially with your favorite plush blanket draped over him. From your place on the couch, you could see half his face behind the slotted railing of the loft. Even asleep, it seemed like he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. At least you could allow him this reprieve.

You tiptoed to the side door a few minutes later, a fresh mug of tea in your hand. You were careful not to wake Steve up as you slowly slid the door open, softly latching it behind you. You sat on one of the chairs on the deck, settling in for your morning routine. Clint had told you the reason he chose to build the cabin in its current location was for the view. He couldn’t have been more perfect in his choice. The cabin sat on the edge of a small lake in the middle of a thick forest that butted up against a range of mountains. You’d learned the best part of your nightly predicament was being awake to watch the sunrise over the water, the beams of light breaking through the gaps in the leaves of trees and the crevices of the mountains. The reflection of the morning sky colors in the ripples of the water were beautiful. It seemed this view was the only version of a body of water you appreciated, from a distance at least. You weren’t jumping in anytime soon.

You sipped your tea as the warm hues spilled over the horizon. The forest started to wake up, birds doing their morning calls and squirrels and rabbits scurrying over the forest floor. The breeze picked up a bit. It rustled the leaves and caused shallow waves in the water in front of you. Mornings were definitely your favorite, if only because they were always slow and peaceful here.

“That’s a gorgeous view.”

You whipped your head to the intruder. Steve leaned against the door frame. Orange and red tones lit up his face like a painting. He wore a small smile. He was beautiful in this light. You looked back to the lake.

“Yeah, it really is. Best part about this place. Sorry if I woke you up. I tried to be quiet.”

“Nah, it wasn’t you. Honestly, didn’t even hear a thing. It’s just my internal alarm clock. I’m used to getting up and running first thing with the sun, and believe it or not, I never get used to the different time zones.” You hummed and nodded.

“So when do you guys have to leave?”

“Tired of us already?” Steve teased.

“No.” Truthfully you weren’t. You were bracing yourself for when you’d be alone again. “Just trying to plan ahead. Maybe I’ll make something for you guys for the trip back.”

“Oh...” He was silent for a moment, his face unreadable. “You could come back with us, you know. If Clint’s half as happy to see you as Nat was, it seems like it’d be a great reunion. Plus, you could meet the team.”

He had a point. You did miss Clint, and you had wanted to go back and visit New York again. You supposed meeting the famous Avengers would be interesting. If not daunting. But that would mean putting yourself in range of Fury and you weren't ready for that yet. “I’ll think about it.”

“Fair enough.”

"Would you like a cup?" You raised your mug in his direction.

"I'm alright." His smile sparked made you feel the warmth you wished the sun would give off.

"Well have a seat at least. You're making me anxious."

He plopped into the chair beside you, his long legs stretched out in front of him. His elbows propped on the arms of the wood lounger, his interlocked hands resting on his stomach. He flash you another small smile and looked out toward the water. You took a moment to really study him.

You weren't stupid- you were well-aware how much the media wanted Steve- no, Captain America- to be portrayed as flawless and perfect. And in every instance in which you'd seen him on a screen, he was. In person, the reality of what he must go through, not only as an Avenger, but as a national icon, is ever apparent. There’s a line in his forehead, as if it’s constantly creased, which is plausible. The fine lines around his eyes revealed his weariness, and at the rate you guessed he’s constantly in missions, it made sense.

"You know, it's rude to stare." Blue eyes flicked to yours.

"Yeah well, I don't have a lot of company." You took another sip of your tea, now definitely too cool for your liking. "But can you blame me? I'm in the presence of a celebrity."

A corner of his mouth tucked up.

"Yeah yeah."

"Still watching sunrises with blondes, I see?" Natasha's head poked out on the sliding door, Clint's old sweatshirt hanging off one shoulder.

"Still too nosy for your own good, I see?" You quipped back. She grinned at you, looking younger than you've seen her in a while.

"Of course, zvezdochka." She winked. You sighed, standing up.

"I better get some coffee started and then I'll head into town if you all will be staying for a while. Not exactly equipped to feed superheroes."

"I can go with you." Steve got his feet, stretching his arms over head, the action lifted his shirt just enough to give you a glimpse of his well-toned abs. He practically towered over you.

"Erm, are you sure? It's over a half hour drive into town."

"Well, it wouldn't be right to let a dame like you do all the work while we're crashing with you unannounced " He sounded so genuine. It must be some of that 40′s charm and etiquette Natasha had told you about.

"If you're sure then."

__________

That's how you ended up driving down the winding roads together with trees and steep drop-offs on either side. Steve flipped through station after station of static on the radio before you took pity on him and switched on an indie rock CD.

"There aren't many radio stations out this far so it's hit or miss when we're close enough to catch anything."

He hummed, nodding along to the music, and watching the trees rush by. He had a far off look in eye. You let him be, content with the silent company for now. Who knew how long it's been since he's had time to just think without being needed.

You pulled up to the general store in the closest town almost forty minutes later. There weren't many cars in the lot, but there hardly ever were. You bit your tongue when you saw Steve had donned a discarded cap from the back seat. If he thought that would disguise him, he would be sorely mistaken. Or maybe not. To be fair, there weren't a lot of people in this town, and even less were likely to recognize him at first glance.

A couple teenagers stood behind the registers near the entrance, popping gum and flirting most likely, from the blush on the girl's face at least. You grabbed a cart, Steve following closely behind you. You passed an older woman in the produce section, tossing items in as you went by.

"Is pick up soon or should I get stuff for dinner too?" When there wasn't a response, you turned around. Steve was helping the woman grab the parsley off the top shelf. He was so genuinely nice, it was so easy to see him as the national icon you assumed most people learned about in school. You shook your head and continued down the aisles. He could catch up; it's not like there was too much area to cover if you got separated. You nodded at a man in a black jacket nearby when you made accidental eye contact, and made a beeline to the cereal aisle. The decision to treat yourself to sugary cereal was too great, especially since you had no self-control and it was always the first to run out at home. You reached for your favorite brand, going up on your toes to grab it off the top shelf. Before you could though, a hand settled on your lower back and Steve pulled the box from the shelf effortlessly.

He smirked, dangling the box in front of you.

"Thanks." You rolled your eyes, snatching the box from his grip. He chuckled behind you as you shuffled down the aisle.

"You looked like you were going to climb the shelves."

"I would have. I usually have to-" You stopped abruptly. Steve stumbled into you. The man at the end of the aisle was watching you. No, blatantly staring at you.

"Blue?"

You ignored him in favor of the man. The staring wouldn't have bothered you on a normal day; you don't come to town often so people tend to be nosy and keep an eye on the outsider. But the hair on the back of your neck was standing on end and you had a sinking feeling in your stomach that your casual day with new friends had come to an abrupt end.

"Blue?"

"How many people are near the exit?" You said in a quiet voice. Steve tensed beside you. He finally looked to where your attention was drawn to at the end of the aisle. "None at the moment."

"The old lady?" You murmured, backing up slowly when a second man, the one in the black jacket you had just passed, rounded the corner to stand next to the first man.

"Two lanes over by the soup." You were thankful his height gave him the advantage to see over the shelves.

"We're going to have to make a run for it if we want to keep the civilians safe. Creep and Creepier are definitely packing." You let go of the cart, reaching into your hoodie pocket for your car keys.

"On three, we make a break for it," Steve said. "One-"

"Three!" You turned on your heel and took off toward the entrance, Steve serving as a human shield behind you when a gunshot sounded. How you wish he'd brought his official one with him. The glass of the door shattered in front of you but you barreled through, holding your arms over your head for cover. Dodging bullets, your raced to your Jeep. You jumped in and shoved the key in the ignition, taking off before Steve even had the door closed.

"How did they recognize me so quickly?" Steve gasped. He turned around in his seat, eyes on the road behind us. You rolled your eyes.

"Right, because a baseball cap is going to disguise your six-foot-plus frame in a town of less than a hundred people. Sure." You glanced in the side mirrors. A grey SUV followed you. Raindrops crashed against the windshield. "Fucking great," you muttered to yourself. You needed a plan. Well you had a plan, but it was going to be more difficult than necessary if the clouds were any indication of the water they held. "Steve, the glove box."

He gave you a quizzical look but did as you asked and pulled out the gun you kept stashed there. He rolled down the window, rain pelted his face as he leaned out the window. He took aim and shot at the SUV. They swerved on the road, attempting to avoid the bullets but Steve was able to hit a tire and the SUV made a hard turn into a large tree.

You let out the breath you’d been holding. That much fuckery without substantial food in your system was definitely bringing your mood down. But you couldn't deny the rush of adrenaline that coursed through your veins.

"Romanoff," Steve spoke into his watch. "I've been made. We're on our way back now."

"Fuck," you breathed. "Can’t catch a break, huh Cap? That was obnox-"

You didn’t even see it coming. The hit to the passenger's side caused the car to flip and roll several times, eventually rolling you over the edge of the road and down a steep incline. You closed your eyes and braced against the handle grips on the door and the steering wheel. Every impact of metal to pavement and forest floor jarred your body.

Then the airbag deployed and the world shut off.

[Part 2]

A/N: Gonna try to post every Thursday or Friday, so fingers crossed I can actually stick to that schedule. Let me know what you think so far!

#Stucky x reader #Steve Rogers x reader #Bucky Barnes x Reader #Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes #marvel fanfiction #In Viata Asta

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hiyorisarugaki · 5 years ago

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THE POSITIVE & NEGATIVE; Mun & Muse - Meme.

fill out & repost ♥ This meme definitely favors canons more, but I hope OC’s still can make it somehow work with their own lore, and lil’ fandom of friends & mutuals. Multi-Muses pick the muse you are the most invested in atm.

My muse is: canon / oc / au / canon-divergent / fandomless /

Is your character popular in the fandom? YES / NO.

Is your character considered hot™ in the fandom? YES / NO / IDK.

Is your character considered strong in the fandom? YES / NO / IDK.

Are they underrated? YES / NO.

Were they relevant for the main story? YES / NO.

Were they relevant for the main character? YES / NO (essentially could’ve still been trained by other visored) / THEY’RE THE PROTAG.

Are they widely known in their world? YES / NO.

How’s their reputation? GOOD / BAD / NEUTRAL.

How strictly do you follow canon? —I try my best! I am still not really caught up on bleach. I stopped reading/watching after the Winter War, so I’m literally winging it with any other developments and posts. I am living my life with spoilers~!

SELL YOUR MUSE! Aka try to list everything, which makes your muse interesting in your opinion to make them spicy for your mutuals. — Hiyori has a very pure mind. Pure in the sense that she’s as straight as an arrow. What you see is what you get. She speaks/blurts out everything she feels. And if she doesn’t say it, you can still see it. Every emotion is written straight on her face. She could never really make a good liar and to that end-- if she is your friend, you know she’s really your friend. She’s the type that’ll treat your life as more valuable than her own. She’ll do everything in her power to protect you. Even if you are losing your mind or your sense of self, she will never stop being your friend. Loyal and comically tsundere at times, it’s almost like whiplash keeping up with her topsy-turvy emotions. But if you can, you will definitely be rewarded with someone strong, fearless and unflinchingly loyal at your side. Someone who will fight all your battles for you, no matter how impossible the odds appear.

Now the OPPOSITE, list everything why your muse could not be so interesting (even if you may not agree, what does the fandom perhaps think?). — I think most people agree that she is very violent. She hits people and her friends that do not actually deserve it. She never uses proportional force and it’s obvious that she has a multitude of issues that she has but never bothers to fix. She’s reliant on her friends to make her appear better than she is, because on her own, she would just be a violent goblin. But with her friends, she’s actually Hiyori. So in a sense, Hiyori has no actual sense of self without other people’s loyalty to her.

In addition, she’s not at all traditionally attractive like a normal bleach female. She’s mean and ugly and angry and easily triggered and most of the fandom think it was a cop-out to have her survive her bifurcation.

What inspired you to rp your muse? — Uhm... I always wanted to rp one of the visored. I loved their story the most- outcasts among the shinigami, hollow and humans. They were outsiders and their story feels the saddest to me. They are victims of a crime and yet, they do not behave like typical victims. They are all so vibrant (sorta!) and I love that about them. I also wanted to pick up a character that was uhh... violent? XD I have never written someone who was the complete opposite of me. I suppose it was to challenge myself. To rp someone who is always controversial and yet, still retain interactions.

What keeps your inspiration going? — I’ve really grown to adore Hiyori over the past year of rping her. I’ve always loved shiyori and have also managed to develop an amazing ship with @hirako5hinji and I love all their threads. I keep having so many new ideas and AUs for these two that I wish there were more hours in the day! I also love to develop different friendships with Hiyori. Her interactions with people that are shinigami, human and hollow- and how she perceives them in her mind with her blatant prejudice verses her actual nature of wanting connections... it’s such a good balancing act. ;u;

Some more personal questions for the mun.

Give your mutuals some insight about the way you are in some matters, which could lead them to get more comfortable with you or perhaps not.

Do you think you give your character justice? YES / NO ( I wish I was caught up on bleach!).

Do you frequently write headcanons? YES / NO.

Do you sometimes write drabbles? YES / NO. (Very rarely, but if I happen to think of a little scene or my writing muse is strong, I’ll do one. But I prefer interactions!)

Do you think a lot about your Muse during the day? YES / NO. (Lmao, all day everyday I watch shows or outfits or have food and I’m always wondering what Hiyori might think of this XD.)

Are you confident in your portrayal? YES / NO. (I’m still considered a bit new to the bleach fandom. Everyone has their worries!)

Are you confident in your writing? YES / NO. (some replies I’m like wow and others I’m like why?)

Are you a sensitive person? YES / NO. (gomen)

Do you accept criticism well about your portrayal? — I do. I’m too old to worry about other people not liking my portrayal, but if they have something that they have an issue with or think I’m doing something totally wrong because I missed something in the manga- then I will accept it and incorporate it. =u= / I’m just winging it really and having fun!

Do you like questions, which help you explore your character? — Oh wow! I love those questions. It always makes me think and explore more cracks and crevices about my character and her feelings regarding such issues. I also love questions that eventually lead to a new headcanon for my character too! c:

If someone disagrees to a headcanon of yours, do you want to know why? — Yeah, I love talking about Hiyori. Even if you’re disagreeing with me, I’ll love to hear it! TALK TO ME ;u;

If someone disagrees with your portrayal, how would you take it? — Uhm... not sure? I think if they don’t like it then I hope they can unfollow me! I don’t want them to think this is wildly ooc and ruining the characterisation of Hiyori for them. ; - ; I would feel a little bad, but not bad enough to change my portrayal completely. Everyone has their own interpretation of a character and not everyone will have the same views or thoughts on it.

If someone really hates your character, how do you take it? — Most people don’t really like Hiyori anyway so I’m chill as long as I got interactions. xD

Are you okay with people pointing out your grammatical errors? — Yes. Lol, I rush when writing and uhm, I’m the type that rarely edits my work until AFTER I post it. Both mun and muse are reckless and charge in blind then realise the damage after the thing has been done. orz

Do you think you are easy going as a mun? — Yeah. I have no energy to develop any conflicts with anyone lmao! I just love to rp and I actually enjoy reading nearly everyone’s threads. I wish I had the time to go through the entire dash and read every interaction, but now I limit my reading of the dash to when I’m online or if I love a thread and follow the replies. : > I love rping and I hope you guys have as much fun as me!!

That’s about it, congrats for filling out!

Tagged by: @meishutori @bleachintothemultiverse -thank you both! Tagging: @strcngered @praedulcis--helianthus @skyvar @ilusionis @nicetryshyguy @niopham &anyone else!

#memes #meme replies

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dove-actually · 6 years ago

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He stepped out onto the balcony, tottering to the banister with his tiny-stepped gait. The gold-threaded black-and-white toca on his head bobbed cheerfully as he nodded and smiled; he looked, in his plain gray robe, tufty beard of pure white poking above the collar, the very archetype of kindly holiness.

Like a viper dressed in fresh warm bread, smiling invitingly to a hungry man.

My palms itched -- I’d never longed to kill, but when I saw the High Prelate, his bright blue eyes and affable bobs as he spewed to the crowd teachings he failed to live by, I wanted nothing but to carve him from neck to belly, feel his warm blood coat me fingertips to elbows as he shuddered his last breaths in my arms. I’d whisper Father’s name to him, over and over. Refuse him the right to hear another thing -- force the weight of his guilt down his throat, word after word until the end, until he died choking on Father’s name--

I turned away, nudging a path past workers packed tight in the square, breathless with need to be elsewhere.

The High Prelate was a monster. I hated how easily he could make me into one, too.

OC INTRO: THE HIGH PRELATE Knight Errant’s Big Bad

The High Prelate is the chief religious authority in Sara’s homeland. He rose to power from humble beginnings, following a series of Utterly Unsuspicious events that put him in positions of increasing power, until from a no-name abbey mook he became one of the most powerful figures in the land.

Lucky, right?

WRONG! His acolytes claim he was blessed by the gods for being so wise and benevolent. The Prelate credits his unique superior intellect, and a keen dedication to accumulating power improving everyone’s lives by random genocide turning the kingdom into a place of equal opportunity and unbiased treatment for all.

Sounds awesome, right?

Except when you learn that he views nobility as the root of all evil in the land (which i mean he’s probably not WRONG) and his solution is to exterminate anyone with any noble blood ties in the last couple of hundred years.

...which conveniently includes anyone in the country with the knowledge / armies / resources to fight his ascent to power...and also a good third of the population.

Overkill?

Eh.

‘There’s plenty population left,’ shrugs the High Prelate charmingly, ‘and this way they’ll be FREE OF EVIL NOBLE BLOOD AND TRULY EQUAL. Like me. I will be the most equal of all. [no-evil-noble-blood high-five]’

Okay so this guy used to have valid issues. When he was young he was looked down on & mistreated b/c he was a random peasant brat, and far stupider folks got ahead b/c they had ties to nobility. VALID COMPLAINT. Except he decided his only way to get ahead was murder, which [conflicted sigh] he could’ve at least TRIED other stuff, alright? i mean i’m not saying his heart wasn’t in the right place, but most people only go to murdering their boss to get ahead as like, the THIRD or FOURTH resort, not right off the bat.

anyway.

he decided to nurse a life-long grudge against incompetent nobles, which slowly expanded to include all nobles, then all people who didn’t agree with him, and finally all people who didn’t actively serve him... so you know started at the bottom now we a supervillain.

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Biggest strengths: cunning, tons of influence, scheming abilities, money

Biggest weaknesses: uhm, utter lack of empathy for other humans. Also his inherent belief in his superiority and distrust in Sarra’s ability to outsmart him. (sucker)

Life goal: get rid of the king and his entourage and everyone else with power, reset unfair class system and put the country on a new enlightened path of equality regardless of birth (but not regardless of how much he likes you)

Obstacles to life goal: well it’s hard to assassinate a whole ruling class ALL AT ONCE that’s like a lot of people

Solution: A little bit of creativity, a lot of money, a dash of Super Evil Magic (TM).

Obstacles to his genius solution: Evil Magic Logistics, and Sarra messing with his logistics. (she doesn’t even know what his plan is yet, just that it’s prob in everyone’s best interest to mess with it. she’s in for a fun surprise)

Solution to these obstacles: Pay a lot of people a lot of money to murder Sarra. Like seriously a truly SPECTACULAR amount of money. Just, go all out.

Confidence in his plan: 100%. Honestly even if Sarra DOESN’T die, at this point he’s so close there’s nothing she can do to foil him (except one thing his superior intellect did not consider)

#writeblr #creative writing #original writing #fantasy #villains #knight errant #the high prelate #excerpt #dovewrites #lady sarra #he is the one villain Sarra was never in danger of un-villaining #(although i do sympathize with his original plight)#(but also there are like 40 people in the novel who deal with that unfair system with non-murder methods)#...well or better murder methods at least i mean sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do #her country has an inherently terrible system but luckily for Sarra it's a different heroine's role to make a stink about it #Sarra's just gonna stick to saving the world and fixing the knight system #and helping Ahni fix the healthcare system i guess?#anw happy to report neither of them will resort to exterminating half the country in the process #yay :D

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sexbonk · 5 years ago

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// who wants a life update ? okay well you’re getting it anyway

I’ve been to the hospital to take out all my wisdom teeth. I’m terrified of the hospital so, that went, uhm... it was a catastrophe. But I’m alive. My jaw is super swollen it looks like I’ve been hit in the face by Scout himself tbqh

I’ve also become an auntie in this mess so at least one amazing thing has happened. his name is Melvin and he’s a star. my brother and his to-be-wife is super stoked and my mother has finally gotten a grandchild that she can spoil to the end of days.

I’m awfully hungry so I’m going to go get some yoghurt because that’s all I’ve been able to eat for these past four days now. very tired, very bored.

I’ll try to write some replies on here, and maybe start a few new threads??? if anyone is up for that idk - ANYWAY I’ll spend some time here because I fucking crave SniperScout oh how I miss them

#ooc;fox words–– probably bullshit #tbd

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starksnack · 6 years ago

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For @stony-week Day 1: Identity P*rn

Tied Together // Stony // 2.4k // AO3

Tony played with the red string tied into a tiny bow around his fourth finger, a precursor to the wedding ring that would sit there someday if all went according to fate’s grand plan. Everyone got a little red thread that only they could see, a cord that tied them to their soulmate across space, time, and the ephemeral fabric of the vast universe.

He ran his thumb over his finger meeting skin where the thread was tied to him. The string would only disappear when Tony found his soulmate so, for now, it was a reminder of the happiness that was to come. When Tony was younger, he used to think it was silly. Afghanistan had changed that, the thread becoming something to live for.

With a deep sigh, Tony settled into his new penthouse. Stark Tower was now a beacon of clean energy. It was a major environmental success and Tony couldn’t help the pride he felt at being the first name in renewable, clean energy. He just wished he had someone to share it with.

That’s when the phone rang, Agent’s name flashing across the screen.

***

It was a crazy and hectic week, from learning thermonuclear astrophysics to battling Loki’s angst and his army of alien misfits all while keeping his identity a secret. He gritted his teeth as he touched down on the tower landing pad. Meeting Steve Rogers was both the highlight and the lowest point of this whole endeavor. It was great to finally meet the subject of his childhood wet dreams, but his delight was eclipsed by memories of his father who always compared him to the great and powerful Captain America. This didn’t even mention the fact that Rogers hated him. A recipe for big fucking yikes.

On the bright side, it hadn’t taken much convincing to get the Avengers to move into the tower. They had all been the for the giant wormhole that opened up above the city and apparently that had been enough to get them to each claim a floor in Stark Tower.

When things finally settled down, Tony got back into the workshop and stepped out of his suit. His heart stuttered to a halt in his chest. The string around his finger was gone. He stared at his left hand, willing his vision to shift the red thread back in place around his fourth finger but nothing changed. Somewhere in the last week, he had met his soulmate, and he hadn’t even noticed.

Tony sat down in his chair, hard, blinking away the wetness in his eyes. There was no use crying over spilled milk. He had been so focused on trading quips with Rogers and battling an emo demigod that he had missed the most important moment of his life.

He shook his head, rattling his marbled back into place. He needed to get a grip before Dum-E hit him with a rolled up tabloid and beeped at him to pull himself together. He was Tony Stark. If he could build the Iron Man suit in a cave with a box of scraps, he could find his soulmate.

“Jarvis, you up?” anxiety colored his words and he kissed his teeth as his desktop booted up. The Stark Industries logo flashed across the glass and Tony’s fingers beat an impatient rhythm across the metal casing of the arc reactor.

“Always,” Jarvis responded, the holograms throwing blue light across Tony’s features. The glow wrapped Tony in a bright cocoon and he relaxed. It would be okay, Jarvis would help. “How can I be of assistance?”

“I need a record of everyone I met this last week and whether or not they have registered soulmates. I’m looking for anyone whose thread disappeared. Scan social media postings and soulmate announcement feeds.” Tony splayed his hands out, looking through the generated lists to see if there was a face he recognized. Someone with whom he had made eye contact and formed a bond. So far, no dice. He frowned, “Sort by the likelihood of being my soulmate.”

Jarvis pulled up the feed from the armor running facial recognition while pulling up a guest list from the event in Germany and a roster of all the Shield agents on the Helicarrier this past week. With the hundreds of names crossing his screen, Tony felt his eyes glaze over, hopelessness pulling at the back of his skull and swelling into a headache.

A knock on his workshop door drew him out of his thoughts and he turned to find Rogers standing on the other side, shifting from foot to foot. He was dressed in civvies, a dreadful looking button-down tucked into khakis.

Tony waved him in, turning back to his project. A small list was forming and it looked fairly promising. It was still a lot of names to sort through.

Rogers cleared his throat pointedly. “Can I speak to Iron Man?”

Tony frowned casting a glance at the suit in the corner. There was no way he could play off someone being asleep in there. “He just left for the day but I can take a message.”

“He left?” Rogers raised his brows incredulously, “I thought all the Avengers were staying in the tower. What if there’s an emergency and we need air support?”

“I gave him the suitcase armor to take with him while I repair this one. There’s no need to get your panties in a twist.” Tony rolled his eyes, turning back to his screen, He nearly let out a frustrated groan when he found the list had doubled in size. Significantly less promising. He needed time to think without the big blond distraction hovering behind him. “Is there anything else you needed?”

“No thanks, I’ll just talk to Iron Man when he comes back.” Tony nodded, expecting him to turn around and leave. Instead, Rogers just followed with another pointed throat clearing and Tony resisted the urge to throw the nearest tool, a socket wrench it appeared, at his head. He whirled around in his seat and bit out an irritated, “Yes?”

“I just wanted to apologize for what I said on the helicarrier,” Rogers twisted his fingers in front of him, mouth screwed up in distaste. “It wasn’t right of me, I really appreciate you letting us into your home, and giving us Iron Man.”

Tony nodded, “I didn’t mean what I said either.” He turned back to his list, eyes nearly popping out of his head as he found hundreds of names filling up the screen. “I have a really important experiment running, can you excuse me?”

“Of course,” Tony didn’t need to turn around to know that Rogers was nodding earnestly at him. “The team is going to go out for pizza later, I would love it if you joined us.”

Tony thought about it a moment. If this whole list turned out to be a bust, comfort food would probably be his best bet so he could eat his sorrows away. Tony squeezed his eyes shut, willing the list to get smaller. “Sure, I’ll be there.”

***

Tony never did figure out who his soulmate was. He did get a laugh at some of the names on the list though. Taylor Swift and Elon Musk were apparently candidates, though Tony dismissed those quickly. The biggest laugh was Rogers though, Jarvis thought he was most likely to be Tony’s soulmate but that was pretty much impossible considering Rogers didn’t really like him. Sure, he included Tony in all their group outings and they were friendly, but seeing how Rogers interacted with Iron Man, the ease in their partnership on the battlefield and the relaxed line of his shoulders when they spoke, something he never did with Tony, proved that Rogers didn’t think of him as soulmate material.

One whole year had come and gone and Tony still couldn’t look at the fourth finger of his left hand with anything but longing. Somewhere, someone else was suffering the same despair of an unknown bond and there was nothing that upset Tony more.

And then Rogers had to go and ask Iron Man out.

They were just finishing up a joint training exercise, working seamlessly to take out the targets Tony had painstakingly created when Rogers approached, a broad grin on his face as he pushed his sweat-soaked bangs off his forehead. “Heya Shellhead.”

“Hey Winghead,” Tony responded fiddling with a loose plate on the armor. This one needed a tune-up anyway, he might as well just design a new suit. “Good training session.”

“Yeah,” Rogers replied, shifting from foot to foot in a way that Tony knew meant he was nervous. “I worked up quite the appetite and I was wondering if maybe you wanted to go and grab a bite, just the two of us?” Rogers trailed off, eyes trained on his red leather boots.

“Uhm,” Tony frowned. “I’m not really feeling like a smoothie right now,” he pointed to the faceplate to indicate that he couldn’t really put food in his mouth. “So, that’s going to have to be a no.”

“Oh,” Rogers nodded dumbly, the beginnings of a frown pulling his brows together. “I’m sorry, maybe I was just reading into things.” Rogers scrubbed at the back of his neck with his hand, a blush spreading furiously across his cheeks. “I really like you and I was wondering if you liked me back.”

Tony’s heart hurt because of course Rogers had to go and fall in love with Iron Man when he hated Tony.

“I really don’t think that’s the best idea,” Tony responded, standing up in one fluid motion and forcing Rogers to take a step back. “There’s the whole issue of my secret identity and the Avengers and don’t we have a policy against fraternization-”

“Iron Man,” Rogers cut him off, stepping forward so that they’re face to face. “I don’t care who you are behind the mask, I love you.”

And then Steve’s hands were on either side of his face, pressing a kiss to the slit of the mask. His eyes were open, as though he could see through the glass of the faceplate, gaze heavy with desire. Tony could see every stroke of blue in his eyes, the perfect slash of green and the long flutter of his blond lashes when his eyes finally slid shut.

Steve pulled away, breathing heavily. “I think you’re my soulmate.”

Tony was out of the gym in under ten seconds.

***

When Steve showed up to the workshop the next day, looking totally miserable, Tony almost felt bad for him. And then annoyance overcame him when he remembered that somehow Steve had gotten it into his head that they were soulmates. Well, not them. Him and Iron Man. Tony didn’t know what was worse.

“Hey,” Steve mumbled. There was a giant wicker basket cradled in his arms, the smell of Tony’s favorite muffins, blueberry, wafting up from underneath a red napkin. “Can you give this to Iron Man.”

Tony resisted the urge to just accept the basket and cram the muffins into his mouth while watching reruns of the Bachelor. “He’s not going to be back for the while, the muffins will go bad, just drop them off at the homeless shelter on the corner.”

Steve’s lower lip wobbled and he looked a second away from crying before he nodded, backing out of Tony’s workshop and to the elevator.

Tony tried not to feel bad.

He felt bad anyway.

***

It was a fight that revealed Iron Man’s identity to the world.

Everything started out fine and dandy, some angsty teens had gotten ahold of some Chitauri tech and built robots that were wreaking havoc at a bowling alley downtown until it got out of hand and spilled out onto the street. Some civilians, a bowling team it seemed by the garish matching shirts, were chucking bowling balls at the robots. Tony learned the hard way that when the robots exploded, they spewed acid that kind of melted through metal. And then one exploded in his face.

His first instinct was to protect the reactor. He didn’t know how the metal casing would react to the acid and the last thing he needed was to go into cardiac arrest during the fight when the rest of the team didn’t even know that the same reactor that powered the suit also powered his heart. He didn’t even notice the faceplate had melted away until he felt the cool heat of the midday sun on his face.

Tony took out the rest of the robots with an extreme vengeance before dropping down by Clint to give him a lift to where the rest of the team was gathering in the street.

“Oh my god, Tony?” Steve’s jaw dropped and then he was cupping Tony’s face, eyes wide as his fingers ran over where the acid had singed his skin. Tony waited with bated breath for the insults, fully expecting to be kicked off the scene. He least expected Steve to pull him into a hug asking if he was alright.

“‘M fine,” Tony mumbled back, the words muffled in the kevlar of Steve’s suit. He pulled away turning to the other Avengers but none of them looked ready to tear into him. Instead, there were encouraging smiles all around.

Tony’s suit was still flight-capable, but he chose to ride back with the other Avengers, still shocked that no one was telling him he was unworthy to be Iron Man. He was sitting closer to the back of the quinjet, thinking about how he would handle being kicked off the team when Steve sat beside him.

“Hey so. I know we got off on the wrong foot,” Steve started a bashful smile s spreading across his face, “but I woke up in this new century wondering if I would ever find my soulmate and the night we met in Germany, my string faded away.”

“Oh,” Tony said intelligently, the pieces falling into place in his mind. Maybe Jarvis was right and they were actually soulmates. Who would have thought?

“Yeah,” Steve laughed, a rich beautiful sound falling from his lips. “Anyway, now that there isn’t a faceplate in the way, I was wondering if you wanted to go out to dinner? The two of us, on a date?”

Tony finally allowed himself to think that maybe, the team was okay with him being Iron Man and Steve was possibly his soulmate. He grinned up at Steve, brown eyes lit up.

“I would love that.”

#steve rogers #tony stark #stony #stevetony #marvel #starksnack writes

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