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sabraeal · 1 year ago

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Rarely Pure & Never Simple, Chapter 9

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Obiyukiweek 2023, Day 6: Free Day

Bright and early comes and goes with no sign of Obi.

Shirayuki nurses her morning tea at her usual place, hips braced against the sink and eyes fixed somewhere out past Nanna’s curtains. Or they would be, had any of her concentrated efforts to grow extrasensory powers in elementary school panned out the way she’d hoped; instead she’s stuck staring at ninety-percent frill, all that crocheted lace and starched lawn an impenetrable barrier to the outside, even if it only covers three-fourths of the glass. Nothing a quick bounce on her toes wouldn’t solve, but there’s no casual way to pop on tip-toe, no elegant way to stretch up over that homemade horizon that Nanna won’t immediately read as nerves.

And so she stands there with both hands wrapped around the mug, Felix the Cat tick-tick-ticking behind her. The reflection of his tail shimmers across the glass, a ghost of itself where the sun shines through. As long as she keeps her palms pressed against ceramic, it’s impossible to tell if they tremble.

But when the long hand gives one, tenuous tremble past nine o’clock, Shirayuki finally has to admit: he’s late.

“Oh, don’t wear that face,” Nanna chuckles, shuffling up to jog her elbow. And steep her own cup of tea, but that seems a secondary errand next to giving Shirayuki a hard time. “There’s no world under this sun where that boy stands you up. He’s just running a little behind, that’s all. Your father couldn’t read a clock to save his life either.”

Ah, she’d been hoping the furrow between her brow made her look serious and concerned, not…pouty. “I’m not worried about that.”

She might have been a few months ago, back when all this was new, and Obi’s interest seemed at best mystifying and at worst circumstantial. But with almost half a year under her belt, Shirayuki’s firmly aware of where she sits in the hierarchy of Obi’s personal cosmology: disturbingly close to the top, well above his own personal well-being, but somewhere just below food. Or, well, at least below Funyons.

“It’s just…what if something happened to him?” Her stomach clenches considering what sort of grim misfortune could befall him in the three miles between their houses. “You know, they say that the worst accidents happen just outside your own home. What if he—?”

Nanna clucks fondly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “He’s a growing boy, honey. The only thing that’s gone and happened to him is hitting the snooze button too many times.”

“No one presses buttons anymore, Nanny,” Shirayuki sniffs, taking a long sip from her mug. “Everyone’s got phones now, and there’s apps where you can even—”

There’s no time to inform Nanna of sleep rhythm tracking or blue light-induced wakefulness; no, she can’t even express that there’s different alarm sounds before reality frustratingly, inevitably resolves to favor her grandmother.

An ill-tempered groan is all the warning Shirayuki has before Obi’s jeep heaves to a stop at the curb. With a few more metallic grunts, it spits him out on the front walk, whole and intact, at least from where she stands. There’s a chance he might have a scratch or two beneath the thin fabric of his vintage tee, or maybe a skinned knee where the flames at the bottom of his trunks cast a shadow, but well— she probably shouldn’t hope that her boyfriend’s hurt himself, even if Nanny’s going to be unlivable over it.

“Well, would you look at that.” Grandad rests his arm right across the top of her head, squinting right over the curtain. “Positively occult, that’s what I say.”

“Oh, come on,” Nanna huffs, giving her tea a showy little stir. “That’s hardly anything at all. You should see what I can get up to when there’s a baby involved.”

“Not any time soon, I hope,” Grandad snorts, using his arm to tip her head back and remind her, “Don’t get any ideas there, pumpkin.”

Her tea hasn’t cooled a jot, but with one hand clapped to both, her cheeks are still the hottest thing in this kitchen. “Pa!”

It’s no use, Grandad’s already strutted right across to the front door, look all satisfied with himself for a joke well-executed. His hand settles on the knob for a long moment, tentative, like he’s waiting, and then with one swift turn, opens it with a flourish.

“Ah.” Obi’s hand drops from where he’s raised it, hooking it right around to scrub at the back of his head. “Good morning, sir.”

“Good morning, young man.” Shirayuki rarely pities her father, but seeing Grandad turn that grin on Obi, she understand why he might have elected for windows as the main source of entry to this house. “Are you here to pick up some precious cargo?”

“I think cargo would be better behaved.” Obi’s head cranes around the corner, gaze sweeping the kitchen it can reach. “Is Shirayuki here?”

“And waiting!” Nanna’s wrinkled hand presses against her back, guiding her right to the door, tea mug and all. “You two have a good time now. Do you need me to put that in a cup for you, honey, or—?”

“I-I can leave it.” It squeaks out of her, nervous, and ah, last night had seemed like such a good idea at the time, but now when she looks at him—

God. Even now the scrape of his voice leaves tingles racing beneath the frail barrier of her skin, like static electricity waiting to be unleashed on the nearest metallic surface. I would have come for you anytime.

Shirayuki’s cheeks are already flushed, but she could swear the next flood of heat could sear them from the inside out, like a sunburn in reverse.

“Not too good a time,” Grandad tells them, a little arch, but she can see how a smile clings to the corner of his mouth, more teasing than warning. “Don’t need to hear about any trouble after the fact.”

Nanna swats his shoulder. “Oh, really! There’s going to be a hundred kids at this thing at least. How would they even manage to get up to anything in a crowd like that?”

“You must be getting old, Nan.” Grandad hangs from the door just like Shirayuki’s seen boys lean against lockers, giving her a cheeky grin and a wink. “Can’t remember the sort of things we used to get up to when we were eighteen.”

“Oh, hush!” Pink dapples her wrinkled cheeks, and she shakes her head. “All right, off with you two. I don’t need you getting any ideas from this old lecher.”

Grandad only smiles wider as they shuffle past him to the stoop. “I don’t think they’ll need any of my help with that, dear.”

The last thing she heard before the door shuts is Nanna’s huff, that sharp cluck of her tongue before she issues a warning, “Now, Dad…”

And just like that, the sound muffles, leaving only murmurs of her grandmother’s discontent— and the high points of Grandad’s laughter. It’s not long until she hears Nanna’s too, breathless and consternated, the last bastion against his charm. Shirayuki ducks her chin down, burying her smile in her shoulder. Nanna won’t hold out long.

“Man,” Obi sighs, a laugh bubbling under his words. “They’re exhausting.”

“Tell me about it,” she agrees, tucking a chunk of hair behind her ear. It’s only just long enough for a ponytail, and the front pieces keep trying to make a bid for freedom. “I think my heart stops every time they say we might be…”

Having sex. She can’t make herself say it. Can’t even make herself look at him, not when just last night she’d taken that picture he’s sent her and— and—

Please. It’s strange how vividly she remembers the words when she hadn’t ever spoken them out loud. All of it happened strictly in the confines of her own head. I want you. I want you inside—

Fingers slide between hers, gently squeezing as their palms come to kiss. “Hey,” he murmurs, his other hand reaching up to rub at his shoulder. “We’ll do whatever you want when you’re ready for it. I don’t care about what anybody thinks but you.”

It should be easy to tell him that it’s not about other people, and it’s certainly not about what popular opinion has them do behind closed doors, but— but about her. About what she had managed to imagine last night, all on her own, with only his chest and the hint of his erection to spur her on. About what she might be ready for if there was some way to— if only she could—

But she can’t. Not when she can’t even decide what it all means in terms of, er, readiness. So instead she just squeezes back. “I know.”

She dares a glance up at him then, taking in the faint circles around his eyes, the way his hair sticks up wildly from every direction. He must have just rolled out of bed and straight into his car.

“Sorry.” He scuffs his boot shyly on the stoop before hopping down, using their tangled hands to guide her after him. “I, uh…overslept.”

Shirayuki blinks at him, concerned. “Did you forget to set an alarm? I thought that you usually—?”

“Yeah, well, kinda slipped my mind,” Obi mutters wryly, stare pointed even from just the corners of his eyes. “I kinda had a big mess to clean up right before I hit the hay.”

“Oh.” Her cheeks prickle with heat, matching the tingle up her neck, and it’s a good thing he has his back to her to open her door. She doesn’t think she would survive if he could see her too. “That, um…makes sense.”

“And let me tell you, it was an even bigger one this morning,” he continues, so casual as she slips into the seat. “After I woke up to this.”

She glances up right into his phone’s screen, open to their messages. And there it is, in gray and white, I’m stuck

“O-oh,” she breathes, whole face so hot she’s sure it’ll crack to show magma beneath. “I, ah, forgot I sent that. I didn’t think you’d…”

See it, she doesn’t say. Because of course he would; even if he wasn’t awake to get it hot off the presses, Obi would never ignore her texts. And from the way he bends down, one hand braced on the back of her seat and the other on the dash, he’s not in any mood to forget it either.

“Too bad I missed it. I would have loved to help you.” He leans close enough her eyes cross to keep him in focus. “Only would’ve been fair after you gave it to me to so good last night.”

Ah, if he keeps that up, she might just erupt, the way kids in elementary school used to tease her. You got lava for hair, they’d always say, which suited her just fine. That’s how they drew Madame Pele in the books after all, and if it was good enough for her, then—

Obi’s gaze drops down to her lips, and, oh, well, that’s enough for her higher cognitive thoughts. “Did you…?” She licks her lips, nervous. “…Um, like that?”

“Kid,” he breathes, and that’s as much warning as she had before his mouth presses against hers, capturing her bottom lip between both of his. His tongue traces the shape of it, a gentle tease, a promise. Her fingers scrabble against the center console, trying to gain some purchase before she leans in, scraping them over his scalp.

“Jesus.” He pulls back, flushed. “Just…one second. Okay?”

She has enough presence of mind to whimper out, “Uh-huh.”

Obi jerks upright then, spine stiff and limbs loose like a marionette with a poor puppeteer, the tension of his strings all tangled. He shuts her door— gallant, like always; a gentleman, Nanna would hum, too pleased— but when he crosses in front of the grille to make for his, there’s none of his usual swagger. No flirtatious winks, no cat-like prowl that makes her flush, remembering the way those muscles feel like between her thighs. No, now there’s only a sense of urgency, a scramble to throw himself gracelessly into the driver’s seat.

He coaxes the car to a cough, its frame shuddering beneath her feet, still so stiff, not even daring to look at her.

“If you were a cat I’d take you to the vet,” she says, mild. “But I think they’d just tell me you had gas.”

That gets him to blink, to swing his head toward her. “What did you just say?”

“I was just wondering if something was wrong. I mean, if you were…” She hesitates, scrolling through her mental thesaurus until she settles on, “Upset? About something?”

“Upset?” It’s not a question, but a giggle, one that doesn’t so much bubble up as purr out of his throat, and ah, that probably shouldn’t make her toes curl or stomach drop, but here she is. “Kid, I…”

It’s with a sinuous shift that he leans over the gap between them, one hand cupping her jaw and coaxing her up to him. She doesn’t need much convincing; the second his fingers brush over the soft skin behind her ear she’s already reaching up, tongue darting across the space between them. He gasps against her; she drinks it down greedily, and the groan that follows, until he—

He pulls away. Again.

This time it’s not far, just enough to rest his forehead against hers, breath scattering enticingly over her lips.

“Last night,” he hums, breathless. “That was really good for me. So good. Distractingly good. All I’ve been thinking about this morning is how I wouldn’t mind if we” —he hisses, pained, and squirms back, hands gripping ten and two— “Ah, nope, never mind. That’s…we’ll talk about this later.”

Shirayuki blinks, head too clouded to keep herself from blurting out, “Am I in trouble?”

It’s no giggle when he laughs this time, throwing the car into drive. No, that one comes from a deeper place, one that thrums at the same pitch as something just beneath her skin, turning the space beneath her belly molten.

“Yes.” The gaze he turns on her is scorching, enough that every inch of her feels burned. “A lot of trouble. But…” He clears his throat, dragging his attention back out the windshield. “That conversation is going to have to wait.”

Her mouth is so incredibly dry. “Why?”

He snorts, like it’s funny, but she sees his grip shift on the wheel. “Because I can’t drive this car and make you come at the same time.”

“O-oh.” Her thighs clench tight, but that’s not help at all, not when he’s right here. “We could pull over…?”

“Kid. As tempting as that sounds…” The look he slides her makes her skin feel two sizes too tight. “We’re already gonna be late as it is. And the last thing we need is someone speculating what we needed the extra half hour for.”

It’s a reasonable reservation; the kind she should be concerning her with. The kind she would have been, if her body hasn’t suddenly informed her it’s been over two weeks since he’s touched her, a whole sixteen days since he last put his fingers insider her, and— “I don’t think anyone would notice if we’re only a little late.”

His narrow brows pitch toward his hairline. “That so?”

“I mean, we’ve been together for a while now,” she reminds him, voice only quivering with the barest tremble. “We’re old news. I’m sure that, er…”

“A certain friend of your will have an extremely detailed estimate of just what we could have accomplished left to our own devices?” he offers, a grin tugging at his lips. “One that, might I add, assumes quite a a few very complimentary things about my stamina.”

Shirayuki deflates, defeated. “Does that…bother you?”

“That Kihal thinks I could make you taste colors? Are you kidding me? I knew I always liked her for a reason. It’s just…” His grin doesn’t exactly fade, but the mischief leeches from it, leaving it a pale shadow of what it once was. “As happy as everyone is for us, I know some people…maybe didn’t think it would fall out this way. And I don’t want to…to feel like I’m rubbing it in.”

Zen, he means. Who had thought— who everyone had thought would, ah…

“All right.” She reaches over, squeezing his knee. He jumps, ticklish where she presses in. “Let’s behave, then.”

“Fine,” he sighs. “Can’t believe I argued for this.”

“It’s because you’re a good person,” she tells him. “A good friend.”

“No, he’s the good friend,” he mutters, pulling off onto the main road. “I’m just trying to deserve it.”

“Well, well, well.” Kihal slinks up jeep-side, taking the cooler Obi hands her from the back. “What’s this? Twenty minutes late and looking refreshed? Wonder what you two were up to.”

“Refreshed?” Shirayuki pants as she swings her beach bag over her shoulder, sweat dripping down her back like a popsicle left in the sun. Obi may not be old enough to drink, but by the title in the glove box, the jeep was. A pity that cars tended to age in dog years. It would have been nice to have the AC on a day so muggy not even the windows couldn’t cut the heat. “That’s a…bit of a generous read.”

“What did I tell you? Complimentary.” Obi snorts softly, shutting the hatchback. “Nice to know the girl thinks I could fuck comfortably on a Slip N Slide.”

Ah, now there’s a picture. “Could you? I mean, in theory.”

His eyebrows waggle in a more certain ‘no’ than any he could put into words. “Wanna find out?”

It’s the sort of tease that should have made her stammer and flush, pressure like a hand on her neck no matter how obvious he made the joke— or it would have, only a month or so back. But now she meets his mirrored lenses and just shakes her head, stifling a giggle. Her hair doesn’t budge from where it’s plastered to her neck and shoulders. “Nope.”

“Aw, kid,” he sighs, slinging an arm around her shoulder as they step under the trees. “Where’s the sense of adventure?”

It’s a short walk to where the seniors— former seniors; or if she really thinks about it, upcoming college freshman— have made camp on the shore, coolers and camp chairs taking up the small stretch of sand where the pine cover relents. It’s packed; if there’s not all two hundred plus of their graduating class here, then it’s close, most of them spread out on towels or splashing in the shallows

“Fyi, stay away from those coolers.” Kihal points toward four hard plastic coolers the size of a car trunk, cozened up under two extra-wide beach umbrellas. “Student Council’s covering drinks— at least as long as they last in this heat— but those aren’t ours.”

“Oh yeah?” Obi’s narrow eyebrows hike over his frames. “Who’s catering?”

Her mouth curls into a sneer. “Beer Barons.”

“Beer Barons?” There’s only a few restaurants in town, but Shirayuki’s pretty sure she’s never heard of that one. “Who’s that?”

Kihal huffs, arms crossing right over the band of her bikini top. “Oh, you know, the idiots who have been stealing from their parents’ mini bars and think that makes them master thieves?”

“What?” She stares at the coolers, nearly as large as the one in the pub’s basement. “That’s all alcohol?”

“Kid.” Obi’s mouth twitches. “Did you not know about this shit? It’s all anyone could talk about for months. This must be their big finale.”

“Their parents have got to know, right?” Kihal cocks a hip, skeptical. “I mean this is too much booze to be a coincidence.”

He snorts. “Oh, they’ve known the whole time. You think all those surgeons and stock brokers couldn’t put together why their mini fridges haven’t been stocked since October?”

“Mm. Good point.” She shakes her head. “Rich kids.”

“Pot,” Obi hums, mouth curling into a smile. “Kettle. Black.”

“Hey.” Kihal whips out a finger, prodding it into his chest. “I’m comfortably upper middle class.”

“I…” Shirayuki’s mouth works, but there’s nothing to say, not when she can’t recall a single thing about it. She’d been more concerned with passing in projects and sitting in on rehearsals and the brief moments Zen would scrounge up to talk to her; it’d been easy for everything else to just blur away like some aesthetic backdrop on a Christmas card. And then she’d slipped into Obi’s car and asked for kissing lessons, and well—

Well, sometimes it felt like her whole world could be just the two of them, if she let it. Less so now that he’s going to Lyrias— no need to try to fit a whole relationship into six months when they have another four years to fly or flounder— but it’s hard not just reduce her attention down to just those moments that are him and her and the way he can make her feel.

“People have been stealing alcohol?” she squeaks out, finally, weathering the wide-eyed stares Obi and Kihal turn on her. “From their own parents?”

Kihal’s quiet for a moment before she snorts, shaking her head. “You really do live in your own world sometimes.”

“So…” Shirayuki sits back on her heels, surveying the rumpled edge of her beach blanket. A few more tugs and it might lay flat, but she can’t muster up the gumption when getting it this far has sweat pouring down her spine, drenching the back of her cover up. “Is there anything besides alcohol to drink?”

“Uh, yeah, duh,” Kihal chuckles, spreading her legs out in front of her. “Student Council brought a bunch of soda and some Capri Suns. Should be right over there.” Her chin swings over to where there’s a couple of chest coolers— larger than what the Beer Barons have dragged out, but not nearly as nice— sweating in the sand. “But if that doesn’t move you, your jolly giant friend brought water or whatever. That’s in the bag over there, the soft one— yeah.”

Shirayuki flips open the lid, and there it is— probably twenty or so bottles fit so snugly together the ice has no place to go but on top, scattered in the small crevices between them. Heavenly, in this heat.

“Speaking of tall drinks of water,” Kihal hums from behind her, head propped up on her towel. “How’s yours?”

She blinks down at the Aquafina in her hand. “I…haven’t opened it?”

“Shirayuki, I don’t mean” —a hand flies up to Kihal’s forehead, accompanied by a groan— “I mean Obi. Your boyfriend! The guy with the great ass!”

That gets her to jerk up, scanning the crowd until she finds him crouched over a cooler. One of the alcoholic ones, she realizes, his grin wide as Mitsuhide warms up to the lecture he’s launched into, and well— she hadn’t noticed before, but now that he’s bent down, shirt shucked and swim trunks draw tight over his, ah, backside, it’s clear that they don’t leave much to the imagination. It doesn’t help that for all the stylized flames licking up from the bottom, the top is just a grayer shade of tan, and with it pulled so taut against him…

Well, even though she hasn’t seen him without his pants, she can take a pretty good guess at what he might look like under them now. Skin tone and all.

“So tell me.” Kihal rolls to her side with a smirk. “Is he proportional, or…?”

“Proportional?” She stares down at her, confused. “I haven’t measured, but it looks like his legs might be longer than his wing—?”

“Shirayuki,” she groans. “I mean, his dick.”

Her jaw drops, so dry not even a sip of water soothes it. “I don’t— I wouldn’t know! It’s only been a few months, we haven’t even…”

Seen each other naked. That’s what she means to say, except it gets stuck in her teeth, refusing to budge. Because Obi has, hasn’t he? Between taking off her shirt and getting her off with his mouth, her nakedness is a technicality. But she—

“Really?” Kihal stares at her over the rim of her sunglasses. “I know you said at graduation that you hadn’t done anything but…seriously? He walks around looking like god’s gift to women and you still haven’t torn off the paper?”

—She hasn’t returned the favor. Every glimpse of new skin from him makes her temperature rise ten degrees, and yet here she is, with some…dickphobia convincing her she won’t like the rest. It’s silly, she knows it is, but…

But it’s impossible to explain to someone like Kihal. To someone who knows how to want things.

“I’ve wrinkled the edges a little bit,” she admits slowly, twisting the bottle in her hands. “But I’m, um…savoring it, I guess.”

Kihal huffs, but it’s not judgmental, like she expects. Instead it’s playful, accompanied by a roll of her eyes and a grin. “I should have known. You let your ice cream melt before you eat all of it too.”

“Well, but that’s better warmer!” she protests, crawling back onto the blanket. “Isn’t it?”

“It really isn’t.” Kihal gives her a fond smile before she sighs, “Fine, take your time with him. But you better report back when you have answers. We’re best friends, you can’t hold out on me.”

“I will.” Even if they might be thirty when she does. “I mean, within reason.”

“No, no reason! I want to know every freckle or whatever. I should be able to picture his dick fully formed in my mind, no—”

“If you’re so desperate to know about proportions,” Kiki drawls, dropping down beside them. “Then you should know, Mitsuhide is.”

“God,” Kihal sighs. “I knew it.”

There’s a point— later in the day, of course, when some of her fellow former seniors have finally stated to filter out and the crowd thins— where it all becomes a little much. Where the sun and the heat and the nostalgia starts to tire her out, making her feel faded, like she’s bleached at the edges, frayed. This may have been her first year at Wisteria High, but she’s lived in this town her whole life, walked these woods more times than she can count. She even has pictures of herself standing in front of this very lake, baby fat still clinging hard to her cheeks.

The water laps around her legs, sun sinking from afternoon to evening, and all at once, she knows: it will never be like this again. That some of these people will say their goodbyes, and they’ll be gone from her life, forever. There will be high school reunions and chance meetings at the grocery store and social media posts, but—

But this is it. The end of an era. And here’s her, sitting at the end of the dock, tenaciously trying to cling to the last of it. Lingering like if she saves a few sips at the bottle of the bottom, her childhood will never truly be over.

At least, that’s what it feels like before something tan and lean surges up out of the pond, cold water splashing all over the tender skin of her thighs.

“Hey, Kid,” it says, tossing back wet hair with a predator’s smile. “Carrying something heavy there?”

She’d love to wrinkle up her nose at him, to give him a good, honest frown the way she used to when her wayward ASM would get up to no good, but for as much as there’s chaos in that grin, there’s concern too.

“Do you remember when we last came out here?” she murmurs, looking out across the water. “You dared me to skinny dip.”

Most of Obi’s submerged, his arms folded across the dock like a bowline around a cleat, but what she can see— every bit of it goes tense. “Yeah,” he rasps out, turning his head out toward the water. “Kinda…hard to forget.”

She blinks down, practically boring a hole through the whirl of his cowlick. “Really? You were…? Even then?”

“Why d’you think I was so eager to go in after you?” he grumbles, shoulders oddly flushed. “I kinda…listen, I didn’t really get what was going on with me when it came to you, but when you shimmied out of that skirt of yours—”

“You said you weren’t going to look!”

“I wasn’t looking! I was peeking.” Obi does a little bit of that now too, though his eyes skitter away before she can catch them. “It’s different. Anyway, I figured it out real fast. Too fast! Thought that freezing ass pond water would help. Which it did. Mostly.”

Her eyebrows raise. “Mostly?”

“Well, I might have caught a nipple too. You bobbed up a little when you splashed me, and uh…” He casts her a guilty look, though not an ounce of it seems sorry. “Well, it helped with things later. On my own. More than a couple times.”

There’s a prickle of heat between her thighs, enough that she has to clench to keep her head from spinning. “So you…? To me…? Then?”

“Ah, we don’t have to talk about me.” He lets his mouth hook into a smirk. “I think we should talk about you. And how you got stuck last night.”

“Oh!” That had been a conversation she’d meant to have on the ride here, a small victory she thought he’d be happy to celebrate, but now that his cheek rubs against the outside of her thigh, casual like he’s just wiping off a drip of water from his eyes, well— “You don’t need to, um…worry about that.”

“Hm?” His lips linger against the smooth flesh of her hip. “But I have been. All afternoon. Haven’t been able to” —her breath catches as one of his hands drops, tracing over her ankle— “stop thinking about it.”

A sigh trembles out of her, thin and helpless as his thumb smooths over the skin there, so sensitive she almost squirms. “You didn’t…have to…”

“Of course I do,” he hums, playfully taking the edge of her suit between his teeth. “It’s my job to make sure that you don’t get—”

“It’s fine,” she blurts out, hardly able to hear herself over the blood rushing through her ears. “I handled it.”

His jaw goes slack, her suit snapping back against her skin. “Come again?”

“I, um…” She swallows, ever part of her tingling under the intensity of his stare. “I got stuck, but then I, ah…got myself unstuck?”

“On your own?” he asks, strangely distant.

“Ah…” She nods, hoping he can’t see the way her hands tremble in her lap. “Y-yeah.”

A grin breaks out across his face, as bright as the dawn itself. “You wanna show me?”

Shirayuki stares. “What? Now? But there’s people—”

“We can solve that.” His hands wrap around her waist; her only warning before he drags her down, pond water splashing up around her shoulders before she can think to swim.

“Obi,” she yelps, hands scrabbling for his shoulders. She manages to hook one on her own, but he guides her to the other, pulling her close enough that her feet can rest right on his thighs. The muscles tense beneath her toes, hard as the pylons that serve as the dock’s mooring, and haah, well, the water’s a little warmer now that she’s got that in her head.

“See?” he hums, one hand gripping the dock to steady them. “Nice and private.”

She’d like to argue, but there’s no line of sight to the shore from this side of the dock; she’d have to bob up to even see the other one, positioned right across the lake, and well—

“We shouldn’t,” she gasps, fingers clutching tight enough her nails leave little crescent on his shoulders. “Not…not right here. Anyone could just…just swim over…”

The arm around her tightens, and Obi’s grin smooths to something more serious. “You don’t have to, kid. If this doesn’t feel good, then I’ll tease but not touch.”

Her toes curl against the flex of his thighs, and, ah, each lap of the water makes her aware of how close he is, of how much she would like to be touched. “I…um…”

“But…” He leans in close, his grin so wicked her heart skips a beat. “I think you’re into it.”

“O-obi!” It’s hard to hold the moral high ground when she’s so flushed it’s a surprise water doesn’t boil when it touches her. “That’s not…I’m not…um…”

“We’re not going to get caught.” It’s a promise when he says it, a certainty. “But…it still feels a little wrong, doesn’t it? That we could get caught. That someone else could see me touching you, and they’d know how good you get it, how good I can make you feel.”

She hadn’t thought it was possible to tremble like this and be so hot, for her to be fully submerged and yet know that she’s wet.

“Come here.” He parts her legs, wrapping them around his waist, leaving her wide open to him and yet still hidden from view. “Now no one can even tell, even if they do look this way.”

“Obi…” It’s not a no. God, it’s not even a yes; it’s a please.

His grip tightens around the dock. “Show me what you were doing last night. I want to see it.”

His free fingers drop between them, pulling aside the strip of nylon blend that covers her, and haah, the caress of the water against her folds has her hand diving between them before he can ask again.

“Jesus.” Black eclipses gold until only a thin rim of it remains, trembling the way his arm does as he holds them steady. “Kid…”

The pond’s hardly clear enough for him to see the way she drags her fingers over herself, so slick and ready that she tumbles into his hand more often than she manages to brush her clit, but it’s— it’s working, a few strokes bringing her close enough to that painful edge that she whines, head thumping back against the dock.

“Fuck, wait,” he gasps, mouth slack. “Tell me…tell me what you were thinking about. Last night.”

“Obi.” How can he expect her to talk when every bit of her longs to be consumed, when all she can think about is that she’s empty, and she could— he could— “You.”

“Good.” His grin is insufferable, but there’s something about it that makes her gasp, that makes her think about him laying next to her, just watching as he— “What about me?”

“Your picture.” She should be embarrassed, mortified that she’s even admitting to getting off just by looking at him, but it’s hard to remember when he’s so warm under her hand, when he’s looking at her like he can’t decide whether to kiss her or devour her whole. “It was— you were— hard. I wanted…”

A lot more than she’s ready for, she knows that even now. “I wanted it to be you,” she manages instead. “Touching me. In my bed. I thought about good your fingers are, and I—”

She nearly comes right there from the way he groans, forehead resting against her shoulder. “You like that? Me touching you?”

“Yes. And I thought about how I could— how I might—” She whimpers, frustrated, chasing that elusive high round and round, but finding no relief. “Obi, I need— more, please—”

“Fuck. Yeah, okay I” —he laughs, the sound muffled in her shoulder— “I got you.”

Two fingers thrust between her lips, but he doesn’t bat away her hand, like she expects. Doesn’t take over. No, after that first thrust he slows, following the rhythm of her slower strokes, fingers pumping into her with a languidness that has her whining against his throat.

“Tell me,” he murmurs, so low her skin shivers. “What were you think you could do?”

“I”—she’s so close it hurts, her voice barely eking above a whisper— “I want to touch you.”

It’s not the pace of his thrusts or the teasing of her fingers that pushes her over, oh no— it’s his face, the way his mouth goes slack and he flushes straight down to his shoulders, every bit of him vulnerable, every bit of him wanting. A whine escapes her, threatening a keen, but he swallows it as she trembles, pulling her closer even as his fingers never still, pulling each last thread of pleasure out of her.

When she’s done, they’re adrift. Or, well, at least no longer hanging off the dock.

“Well,” Obi chuckles lowly, letting her tortured swim suit snap back into place. “You didn’t do that alone, but I think an assist counts.”

A laugh bubbles out of her as she presses her head into his neck, self-conscious. “It’s just…better when you touch me.”

“Haah.” They’ve floated shallow enough that he can stand, and he does, nearly dropping her straight back into the water. “I’m glad to hear it, but uh…” He squirms, trying to unwrap her from his waist. “I think I got to, er…”

She blinks up at him, only clinging closer. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing! Nothing. That’s was…” His mouth curves, utterly satisfied. “That was great. I just…have something I should go take care of.”

“What do you—?” Something twitches against her, and ah, it’s an answer. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” His flush has faded to pink, but it’s still there, lingering. “And unlike you, it’s, ah, a little more obvious when I handle myself. So I thought I might…”

His head jerks toward the wooded part of the shoreline, lingering just a few elementary backstrokes away.

“Oh, you mean…?” It’s far enough from the beach that she doubts anyone else would be wandering through, but still, she frowns. “In there…?”

“Yeah.” He disentangles himself from her limbs, setting her down gently. “I’ll only be a minute.”

He draws himself up, water coming just under his hips, and ah, it’s not just his butt that those trunks don’t leave to the imagination now.

“Wait.” She catches his hand. “Obi…”

“Really, kid.” His eyebrows raise, emphatic. “It’s not gonna be long. You, ah…did a good job out ther.”

“No, it’s just…” She licks her lips. “Can I…come?”

He blinks at her, eyes so wide she’s sure they’ll fall out of their sockets. “I thought you just did.”

“I mean…” She stands up too, only up to her waist here, shivering when the wind blows over her. “I’d like to see you come again. Maybe even…help?”

His breath catches. “Ah, yeah.” His fingers squeeze tight around hers. “Yeah, I think that would be, uh…fine with me.”

#obiyukiweek23 #obiyuki #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #lemon #my fic #rarely pure and never simple #high school au #ans #for those who read the Zen/Kihal B-side I wrote many MANY moons ago #and wondered just what obi and shirayuki were getting up to behind the dock #NOW YOU HAVE YOUR ANSWER #i think there's gonna be one more chapter of senior day #and then it's gonna be off to college with these kiddos #😥they grow up so fast

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peonysink · 2 years ago

Text

Facade IV - Kamino/ Coruscant

pairing: imperial Crosshair x f.reader

summary of the first three chapters: You’re an Imperial trooper and Crosshair saved your life on a mission. Soon after that, you slept with him on Kamino, and another time on Ryloth. The dynamic of your relationship with him is very dom-sub, but Crosshair unwillingly shows you his softer side every now and then. He helped you get discharged from the Imperial army and sent to your home planet once you told him you were unhappy there. You stayed in touch, but you haven't heard from him in a while.

Chapter IV: In the meantime, Crosshair is stranded on a Kaminoan platform for 32 rotations and then brought back to Coruscant. He's in a bad shape. You worry about him and you try to find out what had happened to him.

Warning: NSFW, brief mention of suicidal thoughts

PS: The Solitary Clone was the best TBB episode so far, and is probably in my top 5 episodes of any Star Wars media. It was perfection. Just wanted to state that for the record!

Part I

Part II

Part III

KAMINO

7th rotation:

Crosshair doesn’t feel cold anymore. It’s as if his skin adapted to it. The coldness and the wetness. Ever since the first night on the platform when that relentless night rain started to pour, his skin never managed to dry. During the first three rotations he shivered, violently almost, his teeth chattered and his whole body convulsed - but then that stopped. Crosshair made sure to take his armour and undersuit off and strip completely in those rare moments when the sun came out. He’d stretch his undersuit on the platform in hope that the sun rays would manage to dry it. But the suit stayed wet. Those moments were too short. An hour, sometimes two before the clouds reappear and the new rain comes.

13th rotation:

When survival is at stake all other thoughts and emotions are pushed back. Deprioritized. On the 13th rotation, his undersuit starts to smell so he stops putting it on, repulsed by that smell. But that is when the bruising starts. The sharp edges of his armour cut his skin with every contact, and it turns into agony. He tosses and turns, trying to find a position in which he can comfortably sleep, but it is impossible.

The shivering returns as well. He thinks of jumping off the platform. Just for a fleeting moment, a thought, unpleasant and vile. But he chases it away. He is not a quitter. He has a purpose. He didn’t beat all the odds all his life to die like this - survived countless suicide missions, survived growing up on Kamino looking the way he did, survived the destruction of Kamino - to just give up now. No, this is not how his story ends. His path is different than this.

21st rotation:

Hunger stops. Clones do not need much food in general, luckily for him. Crosshair’s mind wanders off to the first 3 years of his life - that’s the period when clones’ accelerated growth is at its fastest, and the amount of food they need to ingest borders on almost unreal. You barely manage to finish one meal and you already start thinking about the next one. And you have to have it.

Crosshair remembers how difficult it was to train, to concentrate on anything else but food in those years. Kaminoans knew that as well, and luckily didn’t push them too much - they understood that cycle, they knew they needed to let their clones grow and develop first, and then start drilling the skills into them. Even Clone Force 99 was spared, for a while, anyway. Crosshair remembers how bad those first couple of years were for Wrecker, especially, who grew and developed faster than any clone. And he kept growing in the subsequent years as well, once Kaminoans stopped caring and insisted that the clones only focus on the training. The hunger Wrecker was feeling at that point was almost painful, and his brothers knew that very well, taking every moment they could to save at least one-third of their portion and then sneak it to Wrecker's bunk whatever chance they got.

Wrecker. Crosshair winced. It was the first time he thought of his brothers ever since he got stranded on the platform. He didn’t want to think about them, he didn’t want to make things worse than they already were. They were gone. He might never see them again. There was nothing to think about.

23rd rotation:

Crosshair knows that another potentially dangerous thought will sneak in eventually. He knows it is inevitable. He braces for it. Expects it almost every night, when the darkness gets so visceral he can't even see his own hand in front of his face. He closes his eyes, as that seems to help trick his mind that he himself is choosing the darkness, that the darkness was there because he invited it, but that darkness behind his closed eyes seemed even more threatening. Luckily sleep comes easily to Crosshair. After the 15th rotation, it was almost the only thing he did. The places where the armour cut into his skin seemed to have hardened and the pain didn’t bother him anymore. He could lie comfortably again, in darkness, wetness and cold and just let go. Sleep. Wait. And then when he least expected it, just as he found a way to exist in this new reality, there it was.

Your hands on him. First, it is just a flash, a fleeting light almost. He thinks he’s able to resist it, but then it comes back, harder and brighter than he is ready for. His body jerks from the impact. The thought of you, the vision of you, naked under him, clinging to him, moaning in his ear, digging your nails into his back. He can’t see your face - even with the photographic memory he has, he can’t recall it anymore. It is just the feeling, the visceral, out-worldly feeling of your warmness embracing him, your hands roaming his body, your lips kissing his neck. He uses all the strength he’s got to lift his hand to his neck and rub that place, feeling it burn under his fingers. And then he feels it spread all over his body.

He’s not cold anymore. He is not in his armour, feeling the rain sift through it, assaulting his wet, bruised body.

No, he is inside you, moving slowly, feeling your body move in sync with his. He doesn’t think he is capable of an erection in the state he is in, but it hits him, a feeling, a strange sensation, almost foreign. Almost like it happened for the first time ever. The hard cold surface of his codpiece was unforgiving, painfully restraining, but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t even attempt to free himself or touch himself. He doesn’t do anything. He just lets that thought of you wash over him, harder than any rain. He surrenders to it completely.

32nd rotation:

He is asleep when the patrol arrives. At that point, his periods of sleep were more semi-coma than sleep - which is why waking up became harder and harder with every rotation. When he hears voices and feels hands touching him, shaking him, he thinks it’s just a dream. He manages to open his eyes after a while and sees two familiar white helmets in front of him, but he closes them again. Blessed sleep. But they pull him and won't leave him alone, these hallucinations, they keep talking, the noise is getting louder, and he hears the sound of a ship powering. He opens his eyes once again and sees the same two troopers, hears their voices clearer, and feels their hands on his body again. They ask him something, they repeat it over and over again, but he has no capacity to answer. His throat is dry, his lips, hidden in his long beard are so cracked that they are almost sealed shut and he can’t make them move.

But they kept talking, and touching him, trying to move him, and before he knows it they get a stretcher out, and they are lifting him. His entire body becomes stiff, the bruises burn and his muscles jerk.

He turns his head one more time, almost instinctively, towards Tipoca City - he always did that. He hated that place all of his life, but every time they left it, he would turn back and look at it. It was a home, and he knew that a relationship with a home can sometimes be complex. So he always felt good gazing upon it from the distance, leaving it behind.

But there is nothing there… For a moment he’s confused. For a moment he forgets why he was there in the first place, and how he ended up on that platform. And then it hits him. Tipoca City is gone. He will never see it again. He’s too weak to think rationally about it. He knows somehow that it was right - he remembers that it was the right thing to do. He doesn’t remember why.

Right now he’s a mess. He’s hardly a soldier capable of thinking strategically. He’s just a jumble of emotions, twisting and turning inside of him. Relief for finally being rescued surfaces, physical pain reappears, and hits him harder than ever before in his life. And sadness. Sadness that he’ll never see Tipoca City ever again.

CORUSCANT

Crosshair knows medical bays too well. Being patched up is very familiar to him, waiting in that room, endless tests, endless questions. Bacta tanks are always a last resort, and ever since the Empire came into power, a an even rarer resort. Crosshair noticed that fewer and fewer troopers are put in bacta tanks than during the Republic. He heard it's the price - bacta is expensive. He saw at least a dozen troupers die in the medical bay, troopers that otherwise would have lived had they been given proper care, and had they been put in the bacta tank.

He’s in it. The pressure of that thick liquid embracing his body, the smell of it overpowering him, his lungs struggling to take the air at the beginning, but then a familiar peace, sleep taking him over. He is in there one entire night, but Crosshair has difficulties telling time anymore. It seems longer.

He can hear droid tell him all his injuries - malnourishment, dehydration, a broken collar bone and a few broken ribs. He’ll live. He’s lucky to be alive, but it’ll take time for his body to heal. Even standing up was impossible at that point for him. So he’s strapped to the bed for the first 7 rotations at the medical bay on Coruscant. No one comes to see him. He only sees droids. He sleeps - again. It’s a more comfortable sleep this time, lines are clearer in his dreams, but he still can’t see faces. He still can’t recall your face, but that feeling is still with him. Feeling he still can’t properly identify, but a warm, tantalizing feeling. He can smell something strange sometimes, so distinctive and different from that sterile medical environment. At first, he can’t really identify it, but then it hits him - it’s the smell of you. It’s your skin, he knows it, he smelled it so many times when he was with you. It’s so real that he opens his eyes and tries to sit up, expecting to see you there. But then he gives up, weak and broken, realizing that was impossible. The more he stayed there in that condition, the more it dawned on Crosshair that he’ll probably never see you again.

Did it even matter? Why did he even think of you in the first place? Crosshair doesn’t fall in love, and he doesn’t appreciate attachments. He had women like you before, women he’d sleep with, hook up with when convenient. But it was never more than that - for him or for them. But ever since he helped you get discharged from the Imperial army, something he was aware could get him in trouble if anyone ever found out, he stayed in touch with you. He wasn’t sure why. Was it because you asked him to? Was it because he heard how happy you were every time you heard his voice? How he made you laugh, and how you told him that you missed him.

Crosshair isn’t sure, but he knows he won’t find an answer to that question in a medical bay, falling in and out of consciousness. So he lets the warmness and the smell take him, lull him to sleep.

He doesn’t know how long exactly he stays in the medical bay, but after a while, after he managed to get out of bed a few times, he is sent to the east wing with the other troopers. He has his own room, but he rarely leaves it. The food is delivered to his door but he doesn’t eat much. He’s regained almost all the weight he lost on Kamino, through the infusion but his body is still not ready for any substantial amount of food.

His hair and beard are shaved again, and he is thankful for that. He sleeps in his room, enjoying the silence, enjoying the fact that it’s warm and dry, that he has soft clothes on his body. At that point, Crosshair thinks he doesn’t need anything else.

But after a while, he can’t sleep so well anymore - or not as much as he was used to the past few weeks. His mind starts wandering once again. He allows it, and soon there’s that smell again, wrapping him tightly. When did he actually last speak to you? He can’t even remember, but it must have been more than 50 rotations ago. Did you ever wonder if he was alive?

Was he even still alive?

He takes out his holo-device a few times, thinking of typing your code in, but stops himself. What could he say if you asked where he was all this time? He wasn’t ready to talk about Kamino to anyone yet, and he probably never will be. Everything that happened prior to and during the attacks. Everything that followed. What he endured. Even the medical droids were surprised that he was alive, given the condition he was in when he was brought.

Then one night, his holo-device beeps. At first, he isn’t sure what that sound was. He didn’t use it in so long. But once it makes the sound again and again, and a little red lamp on the top of it starts blinking he realises someone is trying to get hold of him. Cautiously he picks it up. It is late at night, and since he still wasn’t cleared for combat he knows that it couldn’t be any of his superiors. But nobody else has his personal code. Carefully he brings it closer as if that will tell him something. He hesitates a moment and then finally he presses the button. He doesn’t say anything, but he answers and as soon as he does your hologram lights up the room:

-”Crosshair?”

You look different somehow, yet the moment he lays his eyes on your pale hologram image everything comes back to him. Every line and detail of your face. And it feels good - it is a familiar face, which is a strange thought, given that he spends his days surrounded by one familiar face, multiplied. But yours is familiar in a different way. He still doesn’t know how exactly, he can’t explain it. But it is as if he knows you, he knows that face on a more intimate, personal level. And that might mean something.

-” Crosshair?” - you repeat his name. You can’t see him, as he didn’t turn his hologram on and he doesn’t reply. Crosshair sits in his dark room, quiet and not knowing what do to and what to say. He contemplates hanging up.

-Crosshair?” - you repeat his name for the third time, this time more desperately, and he doesn't even wait for you to finish:

- “Yes?”

-” Crosshair, Maker, I’m so glad to hear your voice. I’ve been so worried. Is everything alright?”

Crosshair can see how your entire body reacts when you hear his voice. Your hologram image is pale, but he can see that your eyes are full of tears. It confuses him again.

Is everything alright? How can he even answer that question?

- “I’ve been better.” - he replies shortly, his voice indifferent. He can see that you want to hear more, he can see that his answer worries you.

-“I ran into some problems.” - he adds.

- “What problems, baby, are you ok, is everything ok? Where are you?” - you can’t stop yourself from asking too many questions, but you know you probably should.

- “Coruscant”.

-“Are you safe now? What happened?”

-“It’s a long story.” - Crosshair answers flatly. You can tell by that tone that he is becoming irritated. You know that you won't be getting any answers out of him tonight. The wall around him was up, and when that happens there was nothing that could get through to him.

-”Crosshair, I haven’t heard anything from you in 90 rotations.” - you try explaining.

90 rotations? Has it really been that long? How long was he in that medical bay, and how long was he exactly couped up in his room? And even if it has been that long, why did you care?

-“I was in a place….” - he started explaining, not really knowing how to finish - “Where I wasn’t reachable by a holo-device. So it was impossible for me to be in contact with anyone.”

In a way that was the truth. All his comms died already after the 3rd rotation on Kamino.

“But you are alright now?” - you ask.

Croshhair thinks for a moment, wondering how to answer that question and then he silently adds:

“I am.”

“Good.” - At least you got to know that. At least you can stop worrying about that. Everything else can wait. Maybe you should let him be for now? You can feel how uncomfortable he is, how something is weighing on him, but also how constipated his thoughts and emotions are.

-” If this is not a good time for you, maybe we can talk some other time, you can comm me…”

-“How did you get this code?” - he suddenly interrupts you.

-” What?”

-“I never gave you my code, how did you get it?”

It was the truth, he never did. For whatever reason, him giving you his code was never an option, and you assumed it had something to do with the Imperial regulations, or perhaps with him being so afraid of any kind of commitment, so you never pushed. He had your code, and he did call you. But his calls were irregular - sometimes they would happen every second - third rotation, and sometimes there would be weeks in between. Sometimes in the middle of the night, sometimes in the early morning or late afternoon. But you didn’t complain, as long as you got to hear his voice. And you missed him. It’s been 6 months since you last saw him, that night on Daro. That night, as every other moment you spent with him, was imprinted in your memory. You longed for him, intensely, but you didn’t want to show him exactly how much - not yet anyway. You felt that a man like Crosshair might get spooked by that. And you worried he might get spooked knowing how you got his code. But you had to tell him the truth.

-” I’m sorry, Cross, it’s not like I normally would do that… but it’s just… I was so so nervous, I haven’t heard from you in so long and no one’s seen you in a while…”

-” No one? No one who?” - he interrupted. His voice was flat and edgy. You knew you had to tell him everything. You knew that if you gave him a reason to be suspicious that he would never trust you again. If he ever did, to begin with.

-” I’m still in contact with one TK trooper that I trained together with on Daro. Sometimes… we talk. He’s lonely and doesn’t have any family… he’s a nice guy, and well… he told me he hadn’t seen you in so long. And he helped me, he logged into the database and pulled your code. I’m sorry, I really am…”

-” What is his name?” - Crosshair’s voice is cold, so cold that it freezes the blood in your veins. You were worried about him, why can’t he understand that?

-“Crosshair, please…”

-” What is his TK number?” - Crosshair corrects himself, his tone unchanged.

-“Crosshair please, he hasn’t done anything I didn’t ask him. If you want to punish anyone punish me.” - you plead.

Crosshair is silent for a moment and then you hear a shuffle as if he moved closer to the hologram. His voice is clearer now.

-” And how can I punish you? You are out of here, far away. Living your life.”

There is something bitter, almost spiteful in his voice. Like he blames you, like he is accusing you.

-” Crosshair… part of me is still there with you. I’m with you, you know that, right?”

Crosshair says nothing. He contemplates your words. Part of you… with him? He looks around his dark room and suddenly realises how utterly alone he’s been for months now. Alone on that platform but alone on Coruscant as well. Alone everywhere he went.

-” Crosshair.. “ - You repeat his name, wondering if he heard your question at all.

-” I miss you so much, baby.” - you add, but you are only met with silence from the other side of the hologram. Silence and empty space.

-” Can I see you? Just for a moment at least?”

He never even considered turning his hologram on. How did he look? He hasn't seen himself in the mirror lately. Does he care? Does it matter?

Even though you couldn’t see him, you could sense the struggle in him. You didn’t want to push too hard, but you knew by now that he often needed to be pushed a bit. Or rather - needed to know that your intentions were pure. That you are not tricking him somehow. That all you really want is just… to see his face.

-” I’ve missed you so much, and it’s been so long. I think I’m starting to forget how your face looks.” - you said. “I mean, I remember it in theory, it’s strange, I know you’re tall, I know how your lips look, your nose, your eyebrows, I know it all in theory, but somehow picturing you, picturing your face, I just can’t…”

And before you could finish your thought, there he was. His hologram appears in front of you, and you see Crosshair. He looks different, so different. For the first time ever you see him dressed in something else but his dark armour. His face is firm, firmer than usual, his brow furrowed, and he looks weaker somehow, more fragile. But it’s him. Crosshair. Your Crosshair. That face you came to know. And love.

-” Hello!” - you say and you smile. “There you are!”

Crosshair says nothing, but it almost looks like he attempts to smile. Then he catches your gaze and your eyes lock. And he holds it. You stare into his eyes, and you feel like they tell you so much more than his words do. You can tell he’s been through something brutal. You can tell that he’s tired. You can tell that he’s lost.

“I forgot how you look too…” - he suddenly says. You smile, and for whatever reason, it melts your heart. Something so simple as that. He’s been at least trying to remember how you look, he’s been thinking of you.

It moves you. You want to touch him, to hug him so bad. It’s almost like he’s right there, within the reach.

“Well…if you forgot my face, I assume you also forgot my body?”

You don’t give him a chance to reply, but you catch his eyes widen slightly. You just act, you just do, something that surprises you as well, but you just get up and slowly you start taking your clothes off. Piece by piece.

You hold his gaze the entire time. Crosshair doesn’t move a muscle. It almost looks as if he stopped breathing, worried not to disturb you, not to spook you with any movement or reaction. He didn’t expect that.

And he didn’t expect the realisation to hit him as hard as it did. With every inch of your skin being revealed to him, he understands how much he wants you.

You stand in front of him, only in your underwear, your panties and a chest-band, and just as you were starting to take that off too, his voice disturbs the silence:

-” Take it off very slowly.”

You nod and smile, and you make sure to do just that. To reveal your breasts to him carefully and in your own time. You feel like it takes forever, but for Crosshair everything happens too fast. When he sees your bare breasts in front of him, he almost had to stop himself from reaching out… and trying to touch you.

-“Touch them for me!” - he says, slowly, a voice of a commander you’ve heard so many times before. It’s an order you’re happy to oblige. You cup both of your breasts and give them a gentle squeeze and then your fingers start playing with your nipples.

-”Do you want to touch me like this…?”

Silence. Crosshair doesn’t move, but he observes you and what you are doing, very carefully.

-”Crosshair, tell me…”

-” Yes!”

He still doesn’t move, but his voice sounds different, almost as if it’s about to crack. You could swear you could almost see how blown his pupils were. You know you need to keep going, you know you’re close to getting him to open up, even just a little.

-” Tell me, baby, what would you do to me if you were here!” - you whisper, your fingers still teasing your perked nipples.

Crosshair can feel himself getting hard. It’s been so long. The sensation almost feels foreign to him like something he’s experiencing for the first time in his life. For a moment he almost feels as if he’s doing something he shouldn't, almost as if he shouldn’t be letting himself get aroused. Like it’s somehow wrong to let his body experience something good after all this time. But he manages to push that thought aside and keeps his eyes peeled on you.

“I want you so bad, Crosshair….”

He hears you whisper and sees your left hand cup your breast while the other starts moving lower. Maker, he wants you too. He realises at that moment how much he would have wanted that hand to be his. That, now familiar smell takes over again, the smell of your skin, and Crosshair can feel it in the entire room.

You get up and he can see your entire body. You’re completely naked and you’re staring at him. At that moment Crosshair feels his entire body waking up. It’s been in a coma for so long, and even though he wasn’t dehydrated, malnourished or cold anymore, his body was stagnating, just existing, just surviving. It never completely recovered. And finally, after so long Crosshair feels the warmth, now familiar warmth spread through his body. Desire takes over. It almost intoxicates him. He wants you. Your body is there, so close, seemingly just within his reach, but yet so far away. And it drives him crazy.

-“Touch yourself.” - he says. His voice is strained. He’s not a commander anymore.

-“How do you want me to touch myself?”

-“Get on your back and spread your legs.” - he instructs. His voice is quieter now, but you can see in his eyes, in the way he moved closer to the hologram, how serious he is.

- “I want to see you!” - he adds.

You do as instructed, even though you fumble a bit first with finding a position and an angle. It feels weird, and you’ve never done something like that, but you feel safe with Crosshair. Despite his secrecy and strange aloofness, you’ve always felt safe with him. You knew that people didn’t like him, and you’ve heard all kinds of stories about him in the Imperial Army, but he’s never given you any reasons to fear him. Or doubt him. You could tell he was battling so many demons, but at the same time, you knew he had to battle them on his own. So you decided to be patient. To be there for him and to do it in his own time and on his terms. You knew he wanted this and you could tell he needed it too. Whatever it was that he just went through, there will be time for debating it later - he’d tell you someday. But right now, he needed this. And you wanted it!

You closed your eyes, and you let his voice that was still ringing in your ears fill the room around you - and for the moment that was enough. He was there. Somehow.

-“I said I want to see you. Spread yourself!” - his voice was still calm, but somehow more decisive. More confident.

You spread your legs and you hope that Crosshair can see how hot you are for him. You can feel how wet you are, and all from just thinking about him, and hearing his voice. All from seeing his hologram image.

Crosshair keeps looking at you, and you see his gaze slowly glide from your eyes, across your breasts and finally onto your pussy. He doesn’t move. It almost looks like he doesn’t breathe.

-“Rub your clit!” - he instructs you next. You would have done it even if he didn’t tell you to. You need it, you crave it. You close your eyes and you imagine it’s his long fingers on you.

-“No!” - you hear his voice again - “Open your eyes, look at me!”

You do, you open your eyes, and you smile at him, as your fingers brush gently over your clit. Crosshair moves slowly in his seat, he doesn’t get up, but he almost looks uncomfortable. His eyes darken and there is a kind of animalistic look in them that you are not sure you’ve seen before.

-“You wanted to know what I would have done to you right now? If I were there…” - he says through his almost clutched teeth.

-“What would you do, Crosshair?” - you manage to say, gently squeezing your clit and feeling it get firmer under your fingers.

-“I’d lick you so hard, so hard you wouldn’t know it was possible to be licked that way….” - he says calmly, his gaze still on your pussy and his eyes getting darker with every word.

-“Crosshair” - a moan escapes your lips. You start rubbing your clit, feeling yourself getting wetter.

-“And I wouldn’t stop till I’d feel you cum in my mouth, till I’d feel your clit pulsate on my tongue….”

-“Maker, Crosshair…” - you are rubbing yourself faster now, desperate and almost sloppy.

-“Do you want my cock?”

-“Yes, Crosshair, yes, always… I want you inside me.”

You hope he will release himself from his underpants, because when you manage to open your eyes, you can see a tent, a now prominent bulge, that he seemingly manages to ignore.

-“Let me see you too, baby, let me see you, let me tell you how much I want to feel your tip on my tongue…” - you start pleading, almost breathless.

Crosshair groans, and it is low and almost too silent, but you hear it. You know that groan very well. With one hand he cups himself first over his pants, and then he releases his long and hard cock. You immediately clutch over nothing, and he sees it. You know he does, because he sees everything, but also because he groans once again, this time louder, almost animalistic, as he takes his cock and squeezes it.

-” Lick your hand, baby, lick your hand for me… you know how much I’d love to do that for you. Make your dick wet…”

Now Crosshair listens to you and obeys your orders. You feel the shift, you feel you have him now. He’s under your command.

He licks his hand and puts it back on his cock, and starts stroking it lightly.

-“You taste so good, baby!” - you say, your voice now louder, as you feel yourself getting hotter. That sight of him is almost too good. You want to cherish it, take a mental image of Crosshair, slowly letting the walls around him crash, surrendering himself to you, even for this brief moment, letting go of control, colour returning to his face, his breaths getting faster, as his hand moves firmer imagining your mouth on him.

-“You taste so good, your cock sliding in and out of my mouth.” - you moan, and you lick your lips. His gaze is fixated on you again and he looks seemingly calm but his body is moving, falling apart, his muscles contracting. His hand on his cock starts moving faster, it's more and more sloppy, relentless, almost aggressive. You can tell he can’t wait too long, and that he needs a release.

-“I want you to cum in my mouth, baby, I want to feel you, taste you, I want to feel your warmth spread all over my tongue, I want to swallow around you, I want to swallow everything you’d give me…”

And that does it. Crosshair closes his eyes firmly, throws his head slightly back and gives you one of the most beautiful sights to behold. He groans, but not in a way you’ve ever heard before. It sounds like a relief, but also almost like a cry, a whimper, and a release of something hurled up deep inside his chest. He spills inside his hand and over his pants, but he doesn’t care. He’s panting, and he is out of breath for a while as he tries to compose himself and it's beautiful. For a moment you stop rubbing yourself, even though you feel how close you are as well, but you don’t care. This is more beautiful.

Then he opens his eyes and sees you.

-“Who told you you could stop?” - he says suddenly, his voice seemingly firm again.

You flash him a smile and you start rubbing your clit again.

-“Slip your finger inside” - he says with a voice full of confidence. - “I know it’ll slide right in.”

You do as you are told and it does and you moan, thinking of his fingers, remembering how good they felt.

-“Slip another one in now, slip them as deep as you can!” - he says.

-” You know how deep I would have been in you, so do your best…. There you go, now fuck yourself!”

You slide two fingers in and out of you, and you automatically add a third one, because it’s not enough. Nothing can replace him. Nothing can feel as good as him. But you are so wet and hot, and you need that friction badly. You swear that you can hear a low chuckle on the other side of the hologram. He can see what he’s doing to you. He can see you’re falling apart. And you keep going.

-“What a good girl you are, fucking yourself like that… all for me.”

-” Y-yes…” - you whimper.

-”Yes, what?”

-“It… it’s all for you Crosshair, this is all yours, only yours…”

“Hm….Yes, it is!” - he says firmly. “Put your thumb on your clit!”

You do as instructed, but it’s almost already too much, you feel your walls getting tighter around your fingers, you feel your clit swollen and ready to burst, you let his voice guide you, you let his voice take you away, to a parallel dimension, and you feel him. You can feel him there. You transcend the distance, you transcend the war, you transcend all the uncertainties.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard when I see you…. “ - he adds and that does it. Everything snaps. In you and around you.

That thought, the thought that he’ll see you again is more than anything else. The thought that he wants that. That he thinks of that. That thought is everything. You pant fast and hard as your body tenses and jerks, being hit by what feels like 100.000 volts.

-“Crosshair! Crosshair!” - you keep repeating his name, as you ride your high, which seemingly lasts longer than ever before. When you finally open your eyes, you see him, in the same position. He doesn’t smile, his face is as neutral as always, but there is something softer about his features. Even in the dark, you can see some colour in his face, he looks more awake and more present than moments ago.

You get up and you sit, and you smile at him.

-“That was amazing!” - you say and he nods. Slowly, and barely, but you see it. His eyes are burning. You feel like they are burning through the hologram, and right into your soul.

-“I can’t wait to see you, baby, and I can’t wait to feel you again….” - you say hoping he’ll say something, hoping that wasn’t just a sex talk, hoping he really meant it, hoping he also daydreams about the day he’ll see you again.

He takes his time, and then he nods again. This time more firmly. Crosshair doesn’t know if he’ll see you again, he doesn’t know what will happen. There are so many uncertainties around him at the moment, and he knows he is not in a position to promise anything to you - or anyone else for that matter.

But Crosshair realises something he wasn’t aware of just moments ago. Something he was in doubt about all this time, and something he tried not to even think about too much.

He now knows without any doubt in his mind that he desperately wants to see you again.

#crosshair #tbb crosshair #crosshair my beloved #crosshair x reader #tbb #imperial crosshair #the bad batch #soft crosshair

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luckhissoul · 10 months ago

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@agoldenlily & @caracarnn sent - 🌸 - to place a flower crown on your muse’s head .

the grass isn't that green out here, is it? there's some faded edges along the ends of it. he notices it every time that he steps outside. the grass just isn't that green, is it? not like back home. but that's bloody insane to even call it home. he hasn't been back there in what feels like a hundred years. it has been years though. is it even home anymore if he hasn't seen it since he was a kid? is it even home if he can hardly remember somethings about it? he remembers how green the grass was though. and how no place could really compare.

at least the grass outside is soft, a little damp from the sprinkle. elayne bought one of those flower shaped ones that spray the whole area. keeping it - well, the best kind of green they were going to get. especially in the winter. the sky over head is clear, a soft blue color that almost blends with the clouds. it may not be back - back there but it's something. and he supposed that it is home, for real this time. it's actually home. the three of them have somehow managed to find that out here in this far off town. one he probably would never have known existed if not for everything that happened. home.

rand's sitting out there with him. he's been pretty quiet though, reading another book as he rests back against the scant tree that's there. it doesn't even block anything. just a skinny thing. but rand uses it for his back and he uses rand for a cushion for his head. his hand dancing lightly over the blades of grass. he gets their moisture, he watches the sky, a few stray birds over head. the concentrated look on rand's face, a light furrow to his brow, his eyes moving over the words. he can tell that he actually likes it. he wonders if he even remembers what day it is or why elayne's been so bloody secretive about everything. but rand seems oblivious, which was just like him.

elayne's been busy in the kitchen, she was baking a cake she said. excitedly, too excited. he knows it's going to be something over the top, slightly impratical. she seemed overwhelmed when she did their birthday, just a couple weeks ago when they had done his he had the feeling she was more excited than he was. they had gone outside of town for some dancing, a nice dinner out, ending the night with the three of them a little drunk on the beach. it had felt good. like they hadn't had a good time in a long time. they had, a few times, the motel christmas last year, elayne's birthday had been something fun, too. his, then rand's -

and back in the city they tried, too. but they hardly got the chance to really see elayne. he and rand managed some fun, he supposed, in that small room they shared. but most of their time was congested with the things that he'd rather not remember. but back then was easier than back home. as strange as that sounded. but it was the truth. back in the city felt more real to him than anything else, didn't it? more real than this?

his answer is almost a year. but then he sees elayne come out with this bright smile on her face. so beautiful that it actually made the sun dim, made his heart ache a little. there was no shame in admitting that much. at least not about how good she looked standing there in that printed dress, her hair falling around her face, a rose and white flower crown placed on her head. she asked if they were ready. rand's surprise is something, too. the moodiness in his eyes shifting suddenly to a light glisten as he looked at her and then at him. he was right, rand had forgotten all about it. of course he did. it'd be more of a surprise if he had rememebred it or pressed about it. instead he quietly read his book.

elayne moves then to sit down on the grass with them, setting the cake on it's dish right there on the ground. and she looks at them with an excited smile on her face. light, isn't she so pretty? rand has a bit of a flush to his face, he notices it as he moves to sit up. as if he had never had a bloody birthday before. but somethings - well, he knew how easy it was to forget the good things. broken things are the ones that stab adn stick and never let go. but light help them all, he wants nothing more than to let this last. these moments between them. but even that thought has an edge to it as if they'd ever walk away from each other.

truth was he was stuck with them, wasn't he? they were all tied together and there was nothing he could do about it. they were all locked in. but there was no better feeling. that was insane. but were there any regrets? he wasn't even entirely sure.

elayne wants him to light the candles. she's so bright just then as she looks at them. she looks happy, the happiest he's ever seen her. and he wants to think that all those shadows have left her. that she's something else, something not broken, just beautiful. just so beautiful. rand looks someplace between unsure and embarrassed and he can't help but smile at that, too. he wonders if rand's happier now. sometimes he sees it, a lightness to him that wouldn't have come in the city. something better, something to look forward to. is he better? are things lighter in the stirring inside of him, that sometimes, well, sometimes thought back to the city like he missed the place?

he reaches in his pocket to get the lighter out. elayne pauses it all to take off her fower crown and set it on rand's head. which gains a laugh from all of them. mat reaches over to straighten it on his head. giving the side of rand's face a light pat before he draws back again. elayne urges him to make a wish. what would he wish for? would he ask for the things he really wanted? would he wish to see his dad again?

rand blows out the candles. the smoke drifts in the air. and elayne's clapping. rand's smile is wider now, his eyes are brighter than ever. he smiles, too, looking at them. the cake looks good and he's eager for a slice or two of it. there's something soft deep inside of him, a light feeling that seems to keep him rooted in this moment. he looks between the two of them then. he likes to think that he is actually better here. far better here.

with the two of them.

#;dream team ;; caracarnn & agoldenlily #v; the streets have no name #;answered memes #agoldenlily #caracarnn #( long post for ts )

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all-for-geek · 1 year ago

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I Lost You Once Chapter 8: A Fork in the Road

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Word Count: 1,238

Fandom: Alex Bale/Don't Feed the Muse

Warnings: mild grotesque imagery

Summary: After Carl reaches out to Kim, she and Ramona have a choice to make.

Kim and Ramona stared at the e-mail. For a brief moment, the two shared a mutual spark of excitement. Not only did Carl trust them, but they had a lead on what they could potentially do next. Perhaps he wasn’t too far gone to get out of the Muses’ clutches.

But then the reality of the situation hit them again. Carl took a big risk sending them that e-mail. If the Muses found it, Carl wouldn’t be too much longer for this world. Worse yet, they could use the email to find them.

“So what’s the plan?” Ramona asked.

“Hold on,” Kim answered as she scanned the email again, “There’s a link to something here.”

Kim clicked on the link and was greeted by a video of a man cloaked in shadow. Despite that and the voice modulator, Kim recognized the silhouette. It was Carl. It appeared that he had already taken the responsibility of warning Mark into his own hands. The video held much of the same information as his email did with one exception: to not plant the spore.

“Well, that’s good at least,” Ramona commented. “If he hasn’t been infected with a spore yet, he might have a chance.”

“Hopefully,” Kim muttered.

“Do you think you could find Mark the way the Mu-the way Connie found Carl?” Ramona asked. Kim appreciated that attempt of respect towards their other houseguest.

“Probably. If Mark has any sort of online presence, I could at least find a way to contact him.”

“If he has a Muse, that’s pretty likely.” Ramona stood up from the couch and began pacing the floor. Even with it covered by her hair, Kim could tell that Ramona’s face was scrunched up from concentration.

“So, we find where Mark is and do a wellness check like Carl asked. If he has gotten his father’s video, it should be easy to persuade him to let us help him. If not, we can figure something out. Then, we rescue Carl and all four of us can work to destroy Happy Meat Farms together.”

“Woah. Wait a minute. We can’t go back for Carl,” Kim interjected.

“What do you mean?! Sending us that email was risky enough but the video on top of that? When, not if, HMF finds it, he’s a dead man.”

“So now you’re concerned about who dies,” Kim thought bitterly. Kim wasn’t sure if Ramona knew she was alive until they recently crossed paths again, but she knew that Ramona was still okay with working with creatures that were willing to kill her best friend. Kim was also willing to bet that she wasn’t the only person Mother’s children hunted down. All people Ramona would have had to turn a blind eye to.

Kim took a deep breath. She couldn’t go too deep down that road. Now wasn’t the time for a confrontation.

“Let’s run this down,” Kim explained. “We go back to Carl. Either we track down his house ourselves or message him and hope that he will just send his address. We get there and have a confrontation with a Muse. What then?”

Ramona froze in thought. “I…I don’t know. But we have to do something!”

“What we’ll do is end up dead.” Kim tentatively placed a hand on Ramona’s bulging shoulder. “I don’t want to see anyone die either, but as far as we know the three of us are the only ones actively fighting them. Carl’s dead either way, but if we try to go in all guns blazing or something, no one will be left to stop them.”

As Kim sat back down at the computer, Ramona stood there. It didn’t sit right with her. She had sat back and watched too many good people die because of her mistakes, and she didn’t like being told she had to do it again. Kim was right though. What could they do against the full power of a Muse? She begrudgingly sat down next to Kim.

Up above, watching through a small crack in the hatch, Connie was deep in thought. Kim was, as usual, correct. Neither she nor Ramona had the capabilities to go head-to-head with any of her siblings. Even the weaker doppelgangers had the strength and power equivalent to 5 adult humans. Ramona now had some of Mother’s blood coursing through her veins. She perhaps could hold off one, but a fully grown Muse like the one Mr. Mayhew was hosting? Only another of Mother’s Children would stand a chance.

Another child like Connie. Even still, the idea did not sit well with her. Although, she was not entirely sure why. Kim had rescued Connie before Connie could bask in Mother’s light. Even if she had, that would no longer be her, but the perfect version of Connie that Mother would have molded. That did not stop Connie from still feeling a connection to her siblings, however. Her kind was designed to work as parts of a single unit after all.

Connie would forever be grateful to Kim for allowing her to exist in her original state. The debt she felt towards the human was the reason that she agreed to help Kim with her abysmal quest in the first place, but she still had her limits, and if she allowed herself to be perfectly honest, Connie was afraid to face her siblings. Of being faced with the perfection that they would remind her that she lacked. Of what she would lose if she could not walk away from the confrontation.

So Connie did what she always did. Sat quietly and waited in the dark.

Fortunately, it did not take Kim long to find Mark Mayhew. Unfortunately, it was due to his infamous reputation on the internet. Like his father, Mark had been coerced into a public presence by digging into controversy. While Carlton made his name in conspiracy circles, Mark was known as a conceited contrarian of a cinephile. It seemed any movie that was deemed beloved Mark found reasons to hate. Kim and Ramona groaned while hoping that it was a persona his Muse forced him into.

“So do we want to do the same thing we did with Carl?” Ramona asked.

“We can’t do the exact same thing,” Kim explained. “Carlton was actively asking for people to reach out to him. Especially if he gets his dad’s warning, Mark might need more persuading.”

“What about an interview? We can say we’re with a newspaper or blog looking to ask him some questions.”

Kim thought for a moment. “Could work. It would take some time though since we’d have to create a fake website for it.”

“How long would it take?”

“To make it look convincing? At least a week probably.”

Ramona thought long and hard before she answered. “If it ends up taking longer we can figure something else out, but let’s go with that for now. In the meantime…” Ramona pulled one of the files she had stolen from Happy Meat Farms. “...I think it's time to start lighting some fires.”

Kim sighed. She was never a fan of this part of the plan, but it was the part that Ramona wouldn’t compromise on. “Okay. Maybe start with the animal experiment videos. If you go for the weirder stuff first, people are even less likely to believe you.”

Ramona walked away giving Kim the closest thing to a thumbs up that she could.

#alex bale #don't feed the muse #dftm #ramona bynes #conspiracy carl #mark mayhew #i lost you once #my works

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autumnalwalker · 2 years ago

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Empty Names Side Story - Pop Quiz

Author's Note: Coming back from hiatus (hopefully) with another side story. This one was largely an excuse to do some infodumping on some magic system terminology that gets thrown around in the main story. Hopefully framing it as kid Ashan getting a lesson from his mentor will make that exposition a little more interesting to read. See the tags for more spoilery commentary. Empty Names Mastepost here. Word Count: 3,530 Content Warnings: Mention of (semi-accidentally) abducting a child.

Aliana Glassgaze taps the base of her gleaming white staff on the edge of the water and a shimmering bridge arcs from her feet to the other side of the stream. Her young apprentice wastes no time in running right past her, ignoring the bridge altogether in favor of jumping from rock to rock, laughing as he goes. She smiles, softly shakes her head, tucks a lock of midnight blue hair behind her ear, pulls down the broad brim of her pointy white hat, and begins leisurely strolling across her conjuration.

She keeps watch on him out of the corner of her eye, of course. She’d be a poor teacher and a worse substitute mother if she didn’t. Not that she had ever wanted to be either, but sometimes one day of repeated poor decisions made in the heat of the moment compounding and doubling down on one another is all it takes. In the wake of that she’d felt she owed it to him to be the best mentor and guardian she could be, and - truth be told - as much as a trial the past year has been she’s genuinely grown fond of this boy of ten summers. He’s bright, eager, curious, and seemingly endlessly impressed with everything she does.

It helps that he still thinks of himself as being on a grand magical adventure and not as having been kidnapped in all but name and intention.

At the sound of a surprised yelp Aliana twitches the top of her staff in her charge’s direction and pulls it back, conjuring a clear platform just over the surface of the slow-moving current to catch him. Maybe she should have let him fall in - instill a proper sense of consequences for recklessness and all that - but she’s grown too protective of him for that. Maybe she’s spoiling him, but if she’s stolen one childhood from him, the least she can do is let him have his fun with this one.

The old her probably would have laughed as he fell in.

“Thank you Teacher!”

“Of course. Do you want me to take you the rest of the way or would you like to make a practice session out of this?”

“Practice!” he exclaims, near fit to start jumping up and down on her conjured platform.

That does elicit a sparkling laugh from Aliana. “Go on then. Show me what you can do.”

The boy scrunches his face in concentration and makes a box in front of one eye with thumbs and forefingers. Three heartbeats pass before the first hint of the spell begins to manifest as a blue-white glow limning the interior of the frame formed by his fingers. As he stares through that frame at the water before him a sympathetic glowing square of light manifests at his feet. With deliberate slowness he begins moving one hand away from the other, stretching the square of light to match the frame’s altered perspective. Once the light reaches the far shore he clenches his hands into fists and the spell flashes brighter before snapping into stability.

Relative stability at any rate. The newly conjured bridge is a feeble, flickering thing with wavering edges and barely visible from one moment to the next. A far cry from Aliana’s clean-cut, diamond-hard workings even if they were drawn using the same basic principles. Then again, she’s been practicing near twice as long as her apprentice has been alive.

Grinning ear to ear with his apparent success, the boy takes an eager step forward.

His foot immediately goes through the conjuration as if it were no more than a trick of the light.

Aliana suppresses the urge to catch him this time in favor of giving him a chance to recover. And recover he does. Rather than throwing his hands out in front to catch himself he raises both forefingers and brings them down in parallel slashing motions, drawing brighter edges down the length of his bridge.

The teacher’s breath hitches when her student rolls at the last moment to hit the conjuration with his shoulder instead of his face. The flickering surface gives beneath his weight but does not break. The boy pats his reinforced working as if to verify that his last-second fix truly worked and that he was in fact not in the water. Satisfied, or at least reassured, he cautiously rises and begins gingerly picking his way across. Aliana’s stroll down her own bridge keeps pace with him.

Her student’s feet sink in with every step, more like walking on a plush mattress than solid ground and he has to be careful to make sure he doesn’t go off the nearly-invisible and not-quite-straight path entirely, but all in all, it’s serviceable. Even if the moment he picks up his pace his foot comes down hard enough to pierce the platform and soak his shoe.

The twin shocks of surprise and wetness are enough to break his concentration. The boy’s bridge winks out of existence, leaving his other foot to fall into the ankle-deep water inches from dry ground. There’s another yelp and stumble, but it is his teacher’s hand that catches him this time.

“Very good Ashan!” Aliana congratulates him with a bright smile that melts his budding disappointment into pride. “Even better than I could’ve done at your age.”

“Really?”

“Really,” she lies.

It’s only technically a lie, she tells herself while helping him onto the shore and drying his clothes with a wave of her staff. She was much further along at his age, but he’s remarkably advanced for the mere year that he’s spent learning. It had taken her at least three to maintain a reliable working of that size and duration. And besides, the phrasing is less cumbersome this way. Yet another lie for the sake of convenience, but what’s one more at this point? It’s hardly the worst she’s told him or made him complicit in. It’s helpful even, for keeping his confidence up. And how could she do otherwise for that wide-eyed face looking up to her?

“Teacher,” Ashan asks several minutes of walking through sun-dappled forest later, “why are we going through the woods to get to the Wizard Convocation? Would not the road be faster?”

There it is again, that slightly off formality of speech that doesn’t match his tone. She’ll need to get his translation charm checked out one of these days.

“You’re right,” she answers, “the road would be faster, but this way we get to see a surprise I’ve been wanting to show you.”

“What kind of surprise?!”

“Ooohh, I think you’ll know it when you see it.” She pauses for a moment before adding in a marginally more serious tone, “And it’s the Convocation of Mages that we’re going to.”

“Oh, right.”

“You do recall the difference?”

“Mage is the general term for anyone who can do magic at will and wizard is a specific term for one way to study magic,” Ashan recites.

Close enough, Aliana thinks. Still, better to quiz him more while they have the opportunity. The last thing she wants is for someone to decide that his training has been lacking and suggest his apprenticeship be transferred. Honestly, she’d rather not go to the Convocation, but between skipping the last one and word having gotten around that she’d taken an apprentice staying away from this one would just invite even more questions and rumors she’d rather not answer.

“Very good,” she says “Now then, what’s the difference between a wizard and a witch?”

Seemingly sensing where this is going, Ashan stiffens his back and sticks one finger in the air in an imitation of Aliana’s own lecture mode. “Wizards focus on application of theoretical systems of arcane laws and tend to manifest their magic in abstract or esoteric effects. By contrast, witches draw their power from communing with supernatural entities and tend toward nature magic. Clerics with deity-powered magic are technically witches under this schema.”

A textbook answer. Gods, she hopes he doesn’t do that in front of any of her old academy friends. Or worse, any of her old professors. He sounds just like she did back in the day when she would make fun of their stuffy speeches after class.

“Correct, but can you put it in lay terms?”

“Wizards do math and philosophy to conjure disembodied forces and shoot fireballs. Witches talk to spirits and gods to make plants grow and control animals,” he simplifies in a more relaxed tone.

“A good approximation. Just remember that it’s not a simple either-or, but a spectrum with a lot of overlap. Most witches and wizards will incorporate at least a few practices or spell types more commonly associated with the other. Almost no witch is completely ignorant of arcane theory and there are entire fields of wizardry devoted to working with plant life. And every now and then you’ll meet someone who seems to meet the most common definition of one but identifies as the other, whether out of personal or cultural reasons.”

“But if there’s so much overlap, how do you tell? Why even make the distinction?”

“That,” Aliana says with a sign, “is a good question with a lot of complicated answers.”

“Which one?”

“Both of them. But the short version for the second question is that they’re both very old terms that have meant a lot of different things to a lot of different people and cultures over the course of history, which means that people understandably tend to attach a lot of importance to them as part of how they see themselves. As for your first question, well, you sort of get a feel for it after a while but really it’s just considered good form to go with whatever a given mage says they prefer, and politely apologize and correct yourself if you guess wrong, even if they don’t fit your definition. Or just ask, but whether that’s considered polite or rude depends on where you are and who you’re asking.”

Ashan goes silent while he takes that all in, giving Aliana a moment to take in their surroundings. There! A patch of smooth white bark amidst the brown. She adjusts their course in that direction. Not too much further now.

“Is that why there are so many ‘-mancer” words?” Ashan asks a minute or so later. “To give more precise labels?”

Clever boy.

“That’s a big part of it,” his teacher confirms, “even if it’s technically talking about something different. Pyromancer, necromancer, transmutationist, oracle, beast whisperer; all different words for what someone specializes in doing with their magic rather than how it works.”

“So, someone calling themself a pyromancer tells you that they do a lot of fire magic, but not if they are a wizard, witch, or something else?”

“Exactly. And some people prefer to be known and referred to that way. Others view it as two separate and equally important aspects. But if you’re going to find yourself in a duel, knowing your opponent’s specialization or lack thereof is more useful than knowing where their power comes from. But again, there’s going to be all sorts of different mages at the Convocation, so just be polite and go with whatever they seem to prefer, even if it’s something that sounds hyper-specialized or made up. And when in doubt, you can rarely go wrong just saying ‘mage.’ ”

The last thing either of them needs is to accidentally insult someone important, whether from his naïve ignorance or her slipping back into old habits regarding authority. The less attention the two of them draw over this next week, the less likely anyone is to figure out the boy’s an anchor world mage.

“So what kind of wizard are you?” Ashan asks.

Battlemage. Frontline combatant and premier duelist.

“I like to think of myself as a warder,” Aliana answers. It’s not a lie. It’s who she is now. For him. “I suppose ‘abjurer’ would be more accurate since I do more targeted barriers and bindings than proper area wards, but ‘warder’ just sounds so much more appropriately exciting and heroic for protecting people and stopping bad guys without hurting anyone, don’t you think?”

“Definitely!” He pauses for a moment before adding “That’s what I will be one day too.”

Aliana smiles. Coming from anyone else she’d call it flattery. “If that’s what you want. But remember, half the point of the Convocation is to exchange knowledge. You might see some other styles that you could like better.”

“Maybe,” he says, drawing out the word, “but I doubt it.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because I already know being a warder is the best.”

“Oh really?” She arches an eyebrow at him. “And how could you have possibly come to that conclusion without seeing any other options for yourself?”

He gives her one of those bright, ear-to-ear grins he always does when he’s about to do something adorable or stupid. “Because that is what you are, and I’m going to be just like you!”

As much as she should have expected that answer - did expect it - actually hearing it stops Aliana in her tracks. The warmth and joy of being so earnestly looked up to collides with the cold and dread of implications he can’t realize. “Like her” is what she’s spent the past year trying not to be herself. Reckless, arrogant, lazy. Those were the traits of a young wizard who had gone where she wasn’t supposed to, gotten in over her head, panicked, and kidnapped a child as a result. She won’t let her apprentice become that person. Or the kind of person who would rework a conjured barrier into an impossibly sharp blade or shrink a force cage to crush its occupant. Sure, she’d only ever done those things to monsters, not people, but having a kid around’s been a stark reminder of just how brutal her magic can be.

Ashan slows to a stop, realizing that he’s outpaced her.

“Is something wrong?”

“No,” she says with a shake of her head, “just thinking of a few more terms to quiz you on before we reach the surprise.”

“I’m ready!”

“Are you now?” she faux-mocks him. “Then you won’t have any trouble telling me the two primary ways non-mages can do magic.”

“That’s an easy one! Alchemy and enchanting.”

Aliana shakes her head. “Close, but not quite. You’re right about alchemy, but enchanting is just a specialization of ritual magic.”

“Then why are they called enchanters?”

“Remember what we just said about specializations?”

“Oh!”

“That’s right. Although at least on this world so many ritual practitioners focus their craft on imbuing magic into items that anyone who mostly does that sort of working with glyph circles and lengthy incantations tends to get lumped into the label of ‘enchanter’.”

“But is not that three ways then?” Ashan asks. “Alchemy, rituals, and using enchanted items.”

“Some people do say that, but it’s while alchemy and rituals are both ways of doing magic, with an enchanted item you’re just using magic that someone else set up for you. Like buying a meal instead of cooking it yourself. You still get to eat, and maybe even get to eat something you couldn’t have made yourself if you do usually cook, but you don’t get as much say in how it tastes and can’t adapt the recipe after you get it.”

“But you can add condiments to food.”

“That might not have been my best analogy.”

“That is okay. I understand.”

Aliana reaches down and ruffles her student’s hair. “Of course you do kiddo.”

How much longer will she be able to make that gesture of affection? Should he be taller by now? His hair��s grown faster than she expected, so why not the rest of him? It was barely to his ears when she found him but at this rate it will be halfway down his back in a couple of months. Just like hers is. At least it covers up the other thing she did to him.

“So, what’s a sorcerer?” Ashan asks after smoothing his hair back down. “We have gone over everything else, but I have never heard you talk about that one much.”

It’s a heavier topic than she’d wanted to touch on today, especially this close to their destination. There are more pale-leafed white trees around them now than green and brown. All the same species but these ones as they move close to the forest’s center practically seem to glow with absorbed aether. Too beautiful a place to speak of darkness.

But she never could say no to sating curiosity, whether her own or another’s.

“A sorcerer is… well, it’s less of a description and more of an accusation. It’s a term reserved for mages who practice magic that’s considered taboo, whether because it’s morally abhorrent or just too dangerous for anyone to safely or responsibly control. Stealing or binding souls. Communion with the eldritch. Mind control. True resurrection of the dead. City-leveling evocations. That sort of thing.”

“So it’s just a word for an evil mage?”

“It gets used that way a lot, but it’s more complicated than that. A pyromancer that goes around intentionally lighting people’s homes on fire or a witch putting curses on innocents for her own amusement could certainly be called evil, but they wouldn’t be sorcerers because the magic they’re doing is still fairly normal. Most people who call themselves sorcerers are like that and are just trying to make themselves sound scarier. Meanwhile, someone might delve into forbidden sorcerous arts with the best of intentions meaning to use them for good; or simply be overconfident enough that they really think they can control what generations of mages before them have failed.”

“But it never works, right? That’s how stories always go.”

“Just about. Every couple centuries or so someone usually shows up with the talent and skill to actually command that kind of power without destroying themselves and everyone around them. Maybe once a millennium you’ll get someone like that who doesn’t abuse their power to the point that they become threats to entire countries, if not entire worlds. The only ‘true sorcerer’ like that alive right now in this world cluster is the sorceress Bridgewood, and there are as many horror stories about her as there are heroic ones.”

The fact that nearly every megalomaniacal threat of sorcerer started as an anchor world mage like Ashan is a talk that can wait for another time.

“But don’t you worry about any of that right now,” Aliana says, her bright tone and smile only a little forced. “We’re here.”

The two of them step into a clearing dominated by a lone towering white tree whose bark glitters more like crystal than wood while its mother-of-pearl leaves make a shifting rainbow above. Later Aliana will give her pupil a lecture on the leyline convergence and astral alignment that give rise to specimens like this, but for now she’d much rather simply watch his reaction as he slowly steps forward, eyes wide and mouth agape in wonder. A few more steps and he gradually starts to pick up his pace. And then the dam bursts on his excitement and off he goes once more, laughing all the way around the clearing, nearly tripping on roots as he runs.

Aliana’s own gait is only slightly more measured as she strides over toward the trunk that seven grown men would struggle to reach around together. For once, her smile is genuinely at ease as it rarely has been this past year. Placing a hand on the unnaturally smooth surface, she looks up at the sunlit canopy above.

“Hello old friend,” she whispers. “I’ve brought someone to meet you. He’s a good kid, even if he’s not from around here. Please treat him as you did me. His name’s Ashan.”

She tells herself that the boy’s taken well enough to the new name she gave him that the last part isn’t a lie.

The tree doesn’t say anything back. It’s not that kind of magic infusing it. But still, she likes to think that it remembers the girl who visited a decade ago and waited beneath its boughs for weeks, hoping for a branch to fall. One day, she hopes, Ashan will come back here and do the same.

Leaning her staff against the great tree from whence it came, Aliana sits down and closes her eyes in cross-legged meditation. Feeling the roots beneath her and the trunk at her back. Hearing the whisper of the leaves in the breeze far above her.

When Ashan quietly sits down next to her, she waits until she’s sure his eyes will be closed before peeking at his imitation of her pose. Amazing how good he is at shifting between youthful exuberance and studious tranquility.

I’m going to be just like you!

If that’s going to be the case, then she’ll just have to be the best version of herself she can for him.

She tells herself that the streak of midnight blue in his black hair matching her own is just a trick of the light through the leaves.

#writing #original fiction #urban fantasy #web novel #WIP #Writeblr #Empty Names #serial fiction #writing practice #writers on tumblr #creative writing #literature #prose #writers #novel #fantasy #fiction #my writing #emptynameswriting #I got about halfway through planning the Witch/Wizard terminology spectrum discussion and then realized #“This sounds oddly like gender and sexuality are spectrums talks" and then sort of doubled down on it from there.#I want to do another Aliana POV side story at some point.#Maybe set a few years later when she's more relaxed about having Ashan around and is letting herself have fun with adventuring again.#And for those of you keeping up with the main story/meta tag games the blue streak in Ashan's hair is definitely autogenesis kicking in.#Also confirmation that Ashan never using contractions is a faulty translation charm issue.#Aliana never did get around to having that looked at and now it's permanent with or without translation magic in effect.#It's actually WAY worse than just “never using contractions” but I'm planning on covering that in a main story chapter eventually.

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capseycartwright · 3 years ago

Text

life sure can try to put love through it

Listen - the panic attack Buck had, it was fully justified. As far as he knew, it was 2021 - and Eddie was standing next to him, telling him that he’d forgotten the last three years of his life. He felt he deserved a moment to have a panic attack, thank you very much.

or - after an accident at work, Buck forgets the last three years of his life. Mentally, he's back in 2021 and in the midst of a failing relationship with Taylor - but actually, its 2024 and he's married to his best friend, Eddie. Navigating amnesia is pretty heavy work, as it turns out.

aka, 20.k words of amnesia!fic.

ao3 link

There were a few sounds it was ingrained in you to hate as a firefighter. Eddie had learned that early on during his probationary year - how certain sounds would make the team collectively wince, fearful of what was to come, and none more than the sound of a PASS alarm going off. The sound of a PASS alarm going off was the kind of sound that struck a cold, paralysing fear into any firefighter that heard it. The long, slow, almost rhythmic screech of a pass alarm was a sound you heard in the back of your mind for days and weeks after, the sound only ever meaning one thing -

Firefighter down.

“This is Captain Nash, 118 - calling for a full evacuation of the building. Structural integrity has been compromised - I repeat, structural integrity has been compromised. All teams evacuate now.”

Eddie tried to take as deep a breath as he could, as he listened to Bobby call the evacuation order. If Bobby hadn’t called it when he had, Eddie probably would have called over the radio and demanded Bobby do it. The warehouse fire they’d been called to was one of the worst they’d been to in a long time - how people didn’t realise that not adhering to building regulations meant your property would go up like firewood if a fire was to start, he’d never understand. Building regulations weren’t just a costly paperwork exercise - they were essential, to give first responders time to get in, and get everyone out safely.

They didn’t have time to do that today.

The building creaked, as Eddie started to move toward an exit.

“Buckley, Diaz, report - you’re the only ones left in the building.”

Eddie clicked the button on his radio, voice hoarse as he spoke. “We got separated, Cap,” he explained. “I’ll find him and get out.”

“Do it quickly,” was Bobby’s sharp response.

“I’m to the left of the staff room,” Buck called out over the radio. “I thought I heard something.”

“Stay there,” Eddie replied quickly. “You’re closer to the exit, Buckley.”

“Loud and clear, Diaz,” there was a hint of a grin, in Buck’s reply, a smirk Eddie could imagine on his husband’s face. They’d been married for close to a year now, and they’d kept their own names for work. Everything else - IDs, bank accounts, the deed for their new house - was Buckley-Diaz, the name they shared now, and so they always took the opportunity to tease, at work, to use Buckley and Diaz as they once did, before they made themselves an official, forever-after family.

It was their way of flirting on the job, Eddie supposed.

Chimney’s contribution was long-suffering. “Stop flirting, and get out of there.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other, the fire raging around him. He loved his job - really, he did - but fires like this were hard. He was sweating, underneath his turnout gear, and he was looking forward to getting out, and back to the station, and having a cold shower - never hot. The residual heat of the fire always lingered too long for any of them to truly want a hot shower after a bad fire.

Before Eddie could round the corner to where Buck was waiting, he heard an almighty creak, the ceiling crashing down on top of him before he could even call out. He didn’t get knocked unconscious, at least, groaning under the weight of the debris as he struggled to get to his feet.

“Ceiling has come down, Cap,” Eddie groaned into his radio. “Buck and I are still separated. I’m okay.”

There was a pause, on the radio. “Buckley, report.”

Eddie didn’t pray all that often, anymore - he was prone to having a conversation or two with God, when he was particularly stressed, asking God to help him deal with a hyperactive kid, and an equally hyperactive husband, but he wasn’t as strong a believer as he once was. There and then, though, he prayed - he closed his eyes, and he prayed.

Come on, Buck.

“Buckley, report.”

It couldn’t have been more than a couple of seconds, but the time between Bobby’s calls was agonising, waiting for Buck to pick up his radio and reply. Before Bobby could call a third time, Eddie heard it - the long, slow screech of a PASS alarm.

“No, no, no,” Eddie scrambled to his feet, clicking his radio on again. “I can - I can hear his PASS alarm,” he couldn’t keep the panic out of his voice as he spoke, not caring that there were four stations on scene to witness his meltdown over the radio. It was his husband's PASS alarm he was hearing - Eddie wasn’t going to be calm about it.

“Eddie, breathe,” Hen’s voice was calm, as it crackled over the radio. “Think, for a second. A PASS alarm starts going off after twenty seconds of inactivity. He could just be trapped.”

Eddie didn’t bother replying, crawling across the mess of debris to where he knew Buck had been last. The sound of the alarm was getting louder, as he dragged himself across the mess of crumpled concrete and heat-twisted metal, the alarm getting more intense, louder, as they passed the 30-second mark, the moment the PASS went from being in its pre-alarm, to full blown panic mode, the noise making Eddie’s heart twist in his chest.

“Buck,” he yelled, wishing, hoping that Buck would reply - that his radio was shattered, and that was why he wasn’t replying to Bobby’s requests to check in. “Buck - fuck - come on,” he was getting close, now, the noise of the PASS grating on his ears. “Answer me, Buck - goddamnit. Answer me, you asshole.”

#911 fox #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911fic #buddie #in which i ramble #in which lorna writes fic #this one has wrecked me imma sleep for a week enjoy x

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jungshookz · 4 years ago

Text

smitten: y/n's note is in jungkook's bag and she needs to get it back like, right now

➺ pairing; jeon jungkook x reader

➺ genre; smitten!miniseries!! bff!kook & smitten!y/n!! university!au!! honk honk humour!! the boo hoo angsty wattpad-energy fic of your dreams!! unrequited love!! it hurts so bad but that's what makes it so good!!

➺ wordcount; 7.1k

➺ summary; y/n realizes her meticulously written i love you note is burning a hole at the bottom of jungkook's bag and the mere thought of him finding it is enough to make her feel sick to her stomach.

➺ what to expect; "well, maybe the reason why you're just friends is because the two of you won't allow yourselves to be more than that."

➺ smitten: part one [the almost confession]

»»————- 🖤 ————-««

[previously, on smitten...]

what?

where the hell is it?

you reach into the side pockets and you're disappointed when you end up pulling out old tissues and empty gum wrappers

it's not in the front pocket either — just your keys, a pack of bubblegum, and a small bottle of hand sanitizer

your brows knit together in deep thought as you settle back against your seat, your eyes flickering to the side as you-

you immediately pale

oh my god.

you're positive that your heart stops beating for three whole seconds the moment you realize where exactly the note is — because no, you idiot, you didn't shove it into your own bag earlier-

the note is in jungkook's bag.

»»————- 🖤 ————-««

the next thirty or so minutes of class seem to drag on at a snail's pace and you find yourself checking the time on your phone every five seconds to see when you can finally dart out those doors

your first instinct was to immediately get up and leave because of course you wanted to immediately get up and leave, but with only twenty-ish people in the class and the fact that you're seated near the front... well, it would be a little awkward to just pack up your things and trek up towards the doors without a legitimate excuse (you were tempted to tell your professor that your stomach wasn't feeling very good but the thought of your peers associating you with explosive diarrhea quickly changed your mind)

so, you decided to be a good student and wait it out — but, being perfectly honest, you haven't really been paying much attention to the professor since the thought of you shoving your hi bestie, i'm head-over-heels in love with you note into jungkook's bag instead of yours contaminated your mind five minutes ago

...

you let out a little huff before shaking your head to yourself

how could you be so careless?!

you don't even know how it happened

your bag was sitting on your right thigh, jungkook's bag was sitting on your left thigh... so how the hell did you manage to shove it into his bag??

on the bright side, at least you know where it is, right?

it's in the right side pocket of the bag, so all you have to do is unzip it and stick your hand in and out really quickly without jungkook noticing you rummaging around in his belongings

...but what if he's already read the note?

your foot taps impatiently against the carpeted ground and you reach up and start tugging at your earlobe anxiously, your eyes flickering up towards the dusty analog clock hanging on the wall

c'mon... c'mon...

your grip tightens around your pencil as you continue to trace circles aimlessly on the page, the paper crinkling slightly from the amount of pressure you're putting on it

the stress that's currently eating away at you is probably going to take ten years off your life

"-so, that's pretty much it from me for the day!"

you don't think you've ever been so happy for a class to end as soon as the screen goes black at the front and you waste absolutely no time in packing up

you probably look insane trying to shove your laptop and your notebook into your bag at the same time but you couldn't care less at this point because you need to get the hell out of here

"-please remember to contribute to the discussion threads online... at least four responses, please, and none of those bullshit 'yes, i agree!' responses. i'm definitely not going to count those as participation marks-"

you close your bag with a sharp ziiiip! and you hurry to fold the squeaky desk back into place, a couple of people turning to glance at you for the sudden abundance of clattering and knocking coming from your direction

"excuse me, pardon me-" you pull your backpack on as you step over multiple sets of legs, trying your best not to trample on any feet or knock anyone's tooth out with your bag, "sorry! excuse me-"

you can feel the adrenaline pumping through your veins as you jog up the steps two at a time, your brain immediately mapping out the route to the library jungkook said he'd be at

best case scenario: he hasn't found the note and your friendship with him is still very much in tact

worst case scenario: he found the note and is currently reading it at this point in time and your friendship with him is starting to crumble but you still have a chance to swoop in and pick up the pieces

the absolutely worst case ever in the entire world scenario: he's found the note, he's read the note, he's processed the note, and your friendship with him has been completely annihilated and now he's planning to change his name and leave the country so that he doesn't have to confront you about it

you use your shoulder to shove the doors open before bursting out into the open air, ignoring the concerned glances you're starting to receive from your obviously frazzled state

"oh god, oh god, oh god-!" your backpack flops wildly against your back as you rush down the narrow brick steps leading towards the main boulevard

realistically, jungkook's probably found and read the note, so all you have to do is come up with a short monologue about how all of it was fake and that the note was just a sick, twisted prank of some kind

i know that the note makes it seem like i'm telling you that i'm in love with you, but that's not the truth at all!

"woah, watch it-!"

you accidentally knock into someone's shoulder while sprinting down the lane and you turn around for a second just to hold a hand out while flashing the stranger a sheepish smile

"sorry! so sorry-" you turn back around, reaching up to keep your glasses secured on the top of your head as you continue to sprint, your sneakers slapping down against the pavement

as you read in the note, i made a point about how since we're friends, we should be honest with each other... and honestly, there are nothing but lies in the note! and there's a lesson in that, you know? words can be full of lies but we, as human beings, should be full of truths-

"nope, hate that-" you shake your head and immediately scrunch up that mental piece of paper before tossing it into your brain's garbage bin

you'd sound like an obnoxious philosophy student if you hit him with that explanation

it was a prank! i want to start a prank war with you and this is how i'm kicking things off!

that... that could work, right?

that's not bad!

just tell him that you wanted to start a prank war with him so you decided to go big or go home with an i love you, best friend note to see how he would react!

"so stupid-" you mutter to yourself, slowing down to a jog as you approach the doors to the library, "so, so stupid-"

the Super Epic Prank War ROFL XD™ explanation isn't the greatest excuse but it's the best you can do on such short notice

thankfully, it doesn't take you very long to track down jungkook considering the fact he always sits in the same area every time the two of you come here

your feet come to a screeching halt the moment you spot him and you quickly step to the side to hide behind the wall

you slowly lean over a little to peek at him

he has his headphones on and he's busy typing away at his laptop and you can tell he's concentrating really hard because he has that cute frown on his face and occasionally he'll mutter something to himself

jungkook in intense focus mode is something you find to be very endearing :-)

...

you quickly shake your head to snap yourself out of your daze before focusing on jungkook's face again

he certainly doesn't look like he just read an explosive love letter...

you could still be safe!

...for now, that is.

"okay, y/n-" you stand up straight and let out a breath, giving yourself a mental pat on the head in an effort to calm your nerves, "better sooner than later, right? just- you just have to rip it off like a bandaid-"

your anxiety seems to build with every step that brings you closer to jungkook and you can almost hear the jaws theme song playing all around you

da-dum

jungkook, i swear i have a perfectly logical explanation for this...

da-dum

i know the note does a very convincing job of making it seem like i'm in love with you, but that couldn't be farther from the truth!

da-dum, da-dum

consider this your initiation into our very serious prank war, my friend!

dadumdadumdumdumbdumbdumbthisissuchadumbdumbidea-

"hi!" you greet a little too enthusiastically, trying your best not to make it seem like you just sprinted across campus to get to him even though you very clearly did

"sorry, seat's reserv- y/n?" jungkook looks up from his laptop before frowning, quickly glancing back down at his screen to check the time as he pulls his headphones off to hang around his neck, "aren't you- didn't your class end, like, literally a minute ago? why are you so- did you run here??" he asks incredulously, getting up from his seat as his brows knit together in concern

"no, no! of course i didn't run here, silly- oh, god, give me a sec-" you wheeze, bending down and gripping onto the back of the wooden chair in front of you as you try to catch your breath, your chest still falling and rising at a concerning pace from the physical stress of sprinting and the mental stress of the current situation, "it was more of a- of a brisk walk, if you think about it- jesus, i think i'm gonna throw up-"

"okay, you need to drink some water- come and sit next to me-" jungkook reaches out to help lead you around the table towards him, "god, i don't know why you thought you had to run over, it's not like i was planning on going anywhere-"

"i'm fine, kook, it's fine-"

"you're, like, literally radiating heat," jungkook turns you around and pulls your bag off your back before pulling out a chair and helping you into it, "and your face is all red!" he frowns, setting your bag down on the table and unzipping it to pull out your water bottle

"my face is always this red!" you force out a casual laugh, waving your hand to dismiss him as you lean back against the seat, "i'm fine, it's fine-"

"shut up and take a sip-" jungkook untwists the cap of your water bottle before shoving it into your hands and gently lifting it up towards your mouth, his head tilting up a little so he can check and see if you're actually drinking anything, "c'mon, hydrate yourself-"

you swallow a couple gulps of water before pulling the bottle away and reaching up to wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, "god, i love water-"

"yeah, i bet." jungkook chuckles, visibly more relieved now that he knows you won't be passing out from exhaustion anytime soon

as you put your water bottle away, your eyes lower towards jungkook's backpack slouching against the leg of his chair and almost immediately the anxiety that you thought you'd just swallowed down bubbles right back up

"so, are you going to tell me why you're acting like the cops are after you?" jungkook jokes, taking his seat before pulling his headphones off and setting them down next to his laptop

"i just, um-" you press your lips together as you slowly start to lean down, stretching your arm out towards the pocket, "i just wanted to see you, buddy!"

"i don't believe that for a second." jungkook snorts, turning to look at you

you shoot straight back up and pull your arm up and behind your head as if you're in the middle of a good stretch, "hey, what's with that tone? it's not a crime for me to want to see you-"

"you saw me at lunch! and that was only like an hour and a half ago-" jungkook turns his head to look back at his screen and you quickly revert back to your mission impossible secret agent mode

the forced smile drops from your face and you lean back down, your fingers blindly feeling for the cool metal of the zipper

"you know, you actually came at just the right time-" jungkook speaks up again and you pause just in case you need to pull away from his bag, but he makes no move to turn and look at you, "ji-eun was about to leave for her class but now you can meet her before she goes off!"

"uh-huh..." your tongue pokes out in concentration as you unzip the pocket in one swift movement, immediately sticking your hand in and feeling around for the balled-up piece of paper, "sounds gre-"

hold on, what did he just say?

you shoot back up

"did you just-" you choke and reach up to pat your chest gently, "i'm sorry, did you just say that ji-eun was here?"

"uh-huh!" jungkook nods, "i didn't know she had a spare at the same time as i did so i was surprised when she came over to say hi- it turns out our schedules are, like, sort of similar which oddly makes me kind of happy-"

it's at that moment that you notice the cherry-patterned tote bag slumped in the chair sitting across from you and you let out a nervous chuckle as you shift in your seat, "great! great, that's so- great, it's great that i'm meeting ji-eun today, out of all days..." you trail off, glancing around warily as you try to come up with some kind of an exit strategy

you're just really not in the mood to meet the love of jungkook's life today

you've already been hit with so many blows and it's only two in the afternoon-

"sorry that took so long! i couldn't find a bin but i bumped into my friends and they said they'd throw it out for me-"

oh, you have got to be kidding me.

your eyes widen in mild panic upon immediately recognizing ji-eun to be the girl who had overheard your entire monologue in the bathroom earlier today — and from the way her eyes flicker, it seems as though she remembers exactly who you are as well

"oh, no worries!" jungkook beams at ji-eun before pointing to you with his thumb, "this is my friend, by the way. the one i was talking about earlier! y/n, this is ji-eun."

you stay quiet as you continue staring up at ji-eun, your mind racing a mile a minute as you consider your current options

you can pretend like you've never met her before or you can make things awkward by telling jungkook that you met her today after she'd emptied her bladder

"...y/n?" jungkook lowers his voice, nudging you with his elbow before letting out a nervous chuckle, "please say something."

"i- yes, hello!" you blurt out, the feet of your chair scraping against the rough carpet as you get up from your seat to stick your hand out towards ji-eun, "it's- ah- it's- it's so nice to meet you! i'm y/n."

ji-eun stays quiet for a second before her lips turn up in a polite smile and she reaches towards you, gently taking your outstretched hand in hers (for the record, her hands are shockingly soft and supple), "it's lovely to meet you... as well, y/n. i love your glasses!"

you can't help but notice the immediate warmth that seems to surround ji-eun and suddenly it makes a lot more sense as to why jungkook's attracted to her

you're about as comforting as stepping into a puddle of water while wearing socks

you feel a slight sense of relief seeing that ji-eun is playing along but your new concern is whether or not she's connected the dots that your monologue in the bathroom was dedicated to jungkook

you didn't actually say his name when you were talking out loud, so you might be able to get away with this...

"oh, these old things?" you reach up to feel the glasses sitting on top of your head before flicking your hand at her, "i bought them on amazon. they're blue-light glasses- i can totally send you the link if you want."

"that would actually be great!" she gasps, nodding enthusiastically, "i desperately need a pair of blue-light glasses- seriously, i stared at my laptop screen for, like, ten hours straight today and i really feel like they're about to roll out of my head-"

"oh my god, don't even get me started. at this point it'd probably feel better to rip them right out of their sockets-"

"ji-eun, you ready?"

"let's gooo, i wanna get an iced coffee before we head off to class."

you and ji-eun don't get a chance to continue bonding over the pain of sore eyes when you're suddenly interrupted by two new voices

you look up to see two guys approaching the table and you subtly push your seat back a bit as you prepare yourself to say hello again

"oh! yeah, i'm ready, sorry-" ji-eun gestures towards you with a smile, "this is- this is jungkook's friend, by the way. y/n, these are my friends."

"hi, hello-" you get up from your seat again to stick your hand out, offering the two (very handsome, might you add) strangers a friendly smile, "i'm y/n, jungkook's friend- but you- you already knew that because that's what ji-eun just said-"

"i'm taehyung! you can call me tae-" the corners of taehyung's mouth immediately raise in a bright grin and he gives your hand a firm shake before nodding next to him, "and this is jimin!"

"hi..." you trail off, turning to give jimin a handshake as well, "so nice to meet you!"

"oh, i just- i actually just washed my hands, so-" jimin chuckles, looking down at your hand before taking a small step back, "but it's nice to meet you... jungkook's friend."

ooh

is it just you or did it suddenly get a little icy in here?

"oh, no problem! um, yeah, you too." you pull your hand back before swallowing nervously and forcing the polite smile back on your face, "i like your jacket, by the way! it looks really cool."

maybe it's because he's wearing giant sunglasses indoors but you can't help but feel slightly intimidated by jimin

you can't see his eyes but you can certainly feel them on you and you're definitely getting the vibe that jimin is already not the biggest fan of you for some weird reason

"thank you." he responds curtly, smoothing a hand over the leather before looking down at ji-eun, "so can we go now?"

"mhm!" ji-eun gets up from her chair before pushing it back into place, pulling her tote back up onto her shoulder before flashing a sweet smile at jungkook, "see you later, alligator."

"in a while, crocodile!" jungkook responds enthusiastically, watching with twinkly eyes as she turns and heads off towards the exit with jimin and taehyung glued at either side of her

god

she even walks prettily

and you were literally clomping down the boulevard like a feral caveman a second ago

you wait until they've disappeared to turn and face jungkook with a raised eyebrow, "...jimin was kind of a bitch."

"hey, play nice!" jungkook frowns, reaching over to give your arm a gentle whack, "he's a fashion major! ji-eun says being snooty is part of the degree requirements-" he grins, shaking his head slightly before leaning back against his chair, "she's, like, super funny."

"mm." you hum, still feeling a little uneasy about your interaction with jimin

you just hate it when first meetings don't go well and that first meeting definitely wasn't super great

but it wasn't like you did anything wrong, right?

you were great!

snooty jimin was the one who was being rude

whatever

hopefully you won't have to hang out with him too often if jungkook and ji-eun become an item

maybe you can just stick with taehyung!

he seems to be a lot friendlier

"oh, by the way, i-" you're suddenly reminded of your main mission and you turn to point down at jungkook's bag, "it's not a big deal, but i- i accidentally shoved something in your bag earlier and- could i just get it back from you?"

"you did?" jungkook frowns, leaning down to pick his bag up before unzipping it all the way and pulling both flaps open, "what was it?"

"it was- uh- just some notes on a scrap piece of paper!" you immediately feel the weight lift from your shoulders at jungkook's cluelessness to the situation, "i put it in the right side pocket-"

"wait, are you talking about, like, a balled up thing of paper?" jungkook pauses before looking up at you with wide eyes, "oh, shit- was it important??"

"um, i wouldn't call it important-" you snort, shaking your head, "is it not there? i swore it was in the right side pocket-"

"no, no, it was there! it was there, i just- ji-eun needed to spit her gum out and i thought it was one of my scrap pieces of paper-" jungkook winces, grabbing his phone and unlocking it with fumbling fingers, "i'm so sorry, y/n- let me text ji-eun and ask her which garbage can she threw it into and i can go dig it out-"

"no, no, it's okay!" you nearly let out a screech of delight knowing that your note now has a slobbery wad of gum in it and is living at the bottom of a trash can, "it's fine, i just- they were just boring notes for something. i just wanted to see if i had really shoved it into your bag or not."

"oh, okay-" jungkook's shoulders immediately slump and he sets his phone down on the table, "you're sure it wasn't important?"

"100%." you hold both hands out with a chuckle, "i needed to throw it out anyway so i guess ji-eun actually did me a favour-"

"okay, phew." jungkook sighs, zipping his bag back up and plopping it back down on the ground next to his feet, "anyways- i'm actually glad you're here because now you can help me plan out my date! i was working on it but then ji-eun came and obviously i couldn't have that google doc open in front of her-" he turns his laptop to show you all of his hard work with a grin, "check it out! i have a list of things i need to buy, i have outfit ideas, i even went on pinterest for inspiration-"

"wow, kook-" your eyes bulge out for a second at the sight of the extensive and shockingly organized google doc before you reach over to pull his laptop closer towards you, "i... i really don't think i've ever seen you... even make a google doc before-"

he even has the sunset time written down for the date

why would he need to know what time the sun is setting??

"i have everything planned for next week." jungkook pulls his laptop back to him as you settle back against your seat, "i already emailed my landlord to ask if i would even be allowed to hang out on the rooftop and he said it would be fine! he also reminded me to keep a brick wedged between the door so that i don't lock us up on the rooftop-"

"so you're definitely going with the rooftop picnic, then?"

"oh, i'm actually changing it to a rooftop dinner instead of a picnic." jungkook shakes his head before giving you a half-hearted shrug, "i think a picnic is cute but i really wanna try to impress her, y'know? i ordered this thing on amazon just now- basically, it's a medium-sized inflatable bubble tent! the description says it's perfect for two people and- i'm gonna, like-" he pauses and looks away from his screen towards you with a smile, "well, you know, i'm gonna do what you said and i'm gonna stuff it full of blankets and pillows and... hopefully i can string up fairy lights and stuff on the inside... so that after the date we can go in there and just talk and not have to worry about getting attacked by mosquitos!"

"wow, that's-" you cross your arms over your chest before leaning back and looking up towards the ceiling, "huh. that's actually a cute idea, kook. i wouldn't have been able to come up with something like that. i didn't even know transparent tents existed."

"i know." jungkook gives you a smug little smile before bursting into a grin, "but yeah, that's it! all we have to do is go and pick up all the supplies and stuff."

"we?" you frown, looking back down at jungkook, "i... wasn't aware i was part of this plan..."

"what? of course you are!" jungkook snorts, looking at you as if a third eye just sprouted from your forehead, "obviously you have to help me-"

"well, i just don't know if that's-" you chuckle uneasily as you rub the back of your neck, "i really- i don't wanna get in your way, you know? maybe you should- maybe you should just take care of all of this yourself! i mean, you basically planned everything already-"

"what? but- but you're my-" jungkook deflates and you instantly feel bad upon seeing his eyes suddenly turn sad, "okay..."

you press your lips together and wait for him to say something else but the next few seconds are filled with nothing but awkward silence and the faint buzzing of the fluorescent lights hanging above you

you'd jump off a cliff if jungkook asked you to but helping him prepare and set up his date is something that you,.., definitely would not enjoy.,.,

but then again, this isn't about you, is it?

this is about jungkook, your friend, and he needs your help to set up this very important date that-

oh, damnit.

"i'm-" you clear your throat as you sit up in your seat, reaching over to give jungkook's hand a pat, "no, of course i'll help, kook. i just thought that- well, this date seems so important to you that i thought you wanted to take care of all the details yourself!"

the bright smile immediately returns to jungkook's face and you resist the urge to call him out on so blatantly guilt-tripping you like that-

"yes! you're the best!"

"i know."

»»————- 🖤 ————-««

although you and jungkook are practically inseparable on campus (and some would say it might be healthy for the two of you to give each other a little bit of space) — you don't think you'll ever say no to hanging out with him downtown

of course, hanging out with jungkook downtown would be a lot more fun if it weren't for the fact that the two of you have basically spent the entire day shopping for all the things he needs for his date

and if it weren't for the fact that he paid for lunch and treated you to a cake pop and a venti-sized iced coffee, you would probably be livid about having to carry everything for him because you really feel like your arms are about to pop right off in about two seconds

fancy cutlery, porcelain plates, fluffy throw pillows, a giant blanket, fairy lights... at this point he might as well buy an entire house for ji-eun

and look, you know you probably sound bitter and that-should-be-me about this whole situation, but that couldn't be farther from the truth!

it's just that listening to someone you like gushing about the person that they like for an entire day while you're carrying bags full of things for their date can get a little mentally and physically exhausting so if you're grouchy right now it's really not your fault

"i think we might have to call an uber back to your place, jungkook-" you mutter, adjusting the hefty tote bag over your shoulder with a grunt as you trail behind him on the sidewalk, "bringing all of this on the bus is going to piss people off-"

you stumble over your feet a little when the bag in your right hand knocks into a garbage can and you curse to yourself while resisting the urge to kick the damn thing over

"okay, grumpy, we'll call an uber home-" jungkook spins around with a smile before raising the notepad in his hand and tapping against it with his pen, "i just have one more thing i have to take care of and then we can go!"

"okay, well-" you set the bags down onto the ground with a fwump! before rubbing your sore palms together, "what else do you have to get?"

jungkook offered to help carry a couple of things but you insisted that you'd take it all and that he should just focus on ticking off all of the items on his list

you wince at the sight of the pinkish-red imprints now embedded into your palms from the straps of the bags

obviously you've now come to regret your generous offer

"flowers!" jungkook chirps, using his pen to point to the flower shop a couple of shops down, "i have to greet ji-eun with a bouquet of flowers as pretty as she is-"

"yeah, i understand-" you adjust the two bags on both shoulders before bending down to pick up the other two on the ground, "also, i'm not a genius or anything but i'm pretty sure the flowers aren't going to survive until the date if you buy them now-"

"duh, obviously not- i'm going to place an order now and then pick them up on the day of the date!" jungkook tsks, waiting for you to join his side before he begins walking towards the flower shop, "thanks for doing all of this for me, by the way. you really are the best." he hums, hurrying over to open the door for you

"i... yeah, of course, kook." you feel yourself soften slightly as soon as you see the sweet little smile on his face and you quickly scold yourself in your head for being so curt with him all day, "that's what friends are for, right?"

"mhm!" jungkook slaps his hands down on your shoulders from behind before giving them a squeeze, "and i am so letting you choose whatever you want for dinner tonight-"

"hello!"

"oh, jesus-" you and jungkook are immediately greeted by an overenthusiastic employee as soon as you step into the shop and you honestly probably would've knocked him out with one of your shopping bags if they weren't so heavy-

"are you two looking for anything in particular?" he smiles kindly before gesturing towards the large selection of flowers all around you, "we have flowers of all kinds! roses, tulips, lilies- i can even show you flowers from our new tropical selection-"

"actually-" jungkook nudges you aside before glancing down at the employee's nametag, "seokjin, i'd like to place an order for a custom bouquet, if that's okay."

"ah, a custom bouquet!" seokjin claps his hands and rubs them together enticingly, "what are you celebrating? i need to know so that i can help pick out the perfect flowers for your bouquet."

"well, i don't know if it's a celebration-" jungkook chuckles, his cheeks pinking slightly as he reaches up to rub the back of his neck, "it's for a first date."

"a first date!!" seokjin gasps excitedly before turning his head to look at you, "you must be so-"

"-oh, not for me!" you let out a laugh before shaking your head quickly, "it's- it's definitely not for me. i'm just here to provide moral support and-" you lift one of the bags to show him, "muscular support."

"ah, i see... okay, well- why don't i take you around and introduce you to the different candidates you could consider for your bouquet?" seokjin turns back to look at jungkook, "each flower you choose will be very important in showing your future lover how much you care about them-" he pauses when he notices you hovering behind jungkook and he leans over a little with a bright smile, "why don't you go and wait by the front counter, darling? you can put everything down there and take a little break. there's some cucumber water and fresh puff pastry apple roses up at the front if you're interested!"

"well, i can't say no to free food." you snort, nodding before turning to head towards the front counter, "i'll just wait for you over there, then..."

you nearly let out a moan of relief as soon as you set all the bags down and you twist your upper body to the right and to the left until you feel the a satisfying pop! of your spine cracking back in place

your body was not made to carry heavy things

in fact, you'd like to argue that your body was made to lie down and do nothing

you take a seat on the wooden stool before turning to look at the apple roses sitting prettily in the display case and you almost feel like you shouldn't touch them even though seokjin offered them to you

even the pitcher of cucumber water looks too nice to touch

this place is awfully fancy

you didn't even know flower shops could be this fancy

you prop both elbows up on the counter before leaning back comfortably, your eyes lazily scanning around the store

"$15 for a single rose?" you gawk at the little wooden sign poking out from a large bouquet of neatly wrapped long-stem roses before making a face, "god."

you can't even imagine how much a custom bouquet is going to cost if a single rose is fifteen bucks

"-also write a note for you and attach it to the bouquet, if you're interested in that. it'll be an additional five dollars, but we handwrite it on the highest quality card stock with the most beautiful calligraphy and we even spray it with perfume-"

you perk up when you hear seokjin's voice and you look to see him and jungkook coming over to you

you have to admit that seokjin is great at his job because he's doing a good job at milking every dollar out of jungkook-

"yeah, that would be great!" jungkook nods enthusiastically, pulling his backpack off before unzipping it to grab his wallet, "i think a small note might be cute-"

"oh, that reminds me!" seokjin stops in his tracks right as he's about to lift the wooden slab to get behind the counter, "would you be interested in purchasing a teddy bear as well? if you add a teddy bear to your order, i'll give you a slight discount on the flowers."

"ooh, a discount!" jungkook gasps and you turn your head slightly so seokjin won't see you rolling your eyes at how much he's forcing jungkook to buy

you respect the hustle but this is too much

"where are the teddy bears?"

"right by the flowers!" seokjin smiles, wrapping an arm around jungkook's shoulders and spinning him around, "we can round back and take a look-"

"okay, i think i have to cut in here-" you chuckle, reaching out and grabbing the back of jungkook's elbow, "you don't- you don't think a bouquet of flowers and a teddy bear is a little too much for a first date?" you clear your throat quietly before offering a shrug, "i feel like that's just... a lot, kook. i mean, i would be overwhelmed if-"

"well, i guess it's a good thing i'm not taking you out on a date then, right?" jungkook teases, wiggling his arm out of your grip before turning back to look at seokjin, "onward to the bears, my good man!"

ouch

"yeah." you can't help but frown as jungkook and seokjin head back towards the flowers, "thanks for the reminder."

"that's gotta hurt."

"god-" you jump at the sudden appearance of an employee standing behind the counter and you place a hand over your chest before letting out a breath, "you scared me!"

"sorry." he shrugs, "we polished the floors this morning so my shoes are making, like, no noise."

"oh."

a moment of silence passes while you turn to face away from him again, but all of a sudden-

"so he really can't tell that you like him, huh?"

"you-" you immediately straighten up and your head spins around so fast that you're surprised you didn't complete decapitate yourself, "excuse me??"

"what? it's obvious." the employee snorts, spraying cleaner onto the counter before reaching up to yank the tattered rag off his shoulder, "it's painfully obvious, actually-"

you can feel your entire face starting to go red as this complete stranger continues to rip you a new one and you hold a hand out to shut him up, "no offense, but i-i don't think this is any of your business, sir-"

"it's yoongi." yoongi looks down at his apron for a second before frowning, "huh. i forgot to put my dumb name tag on again-"

"well, yoongi-" you place emphasis on his name in an effort to intimidate him and make him go away, "you don't know what you're talking about and i suggest you mind your own business-"

"you should tell him before it's too late." yoongi doesn't seem to be all that affected by your biting tone and you roll your eyes at the way he rounds back to the topic

"what are you even talking about?"

"well, i assume you're going to be his best man at his wedding. from the way it's looking, you're certainly not going to be the bride," yoongi purses his lips as he folds up the rag into a neat little square, "you don't wanna wait until you're fixing his tie at the wedding to tell him that you love him."

"what makes you think i lo-" you cut yourself off quickly before that word slips out of your mouth, "like him?"

"if you didn't, you wouldn't be here right now." yoongi points out with a tilt of his head, "and from how smudgy your eyeliner is, it looks like you've been working hard all day."

your jaw drops slightly and you can't help but scoff

the nerve of this guy!

"who do you think you are?!"

"i'm yoongi." yoongi raises a brow, "i told you that like a second ago- wow, you are not a good listener-"

"do you usually do this with all of the customers who come here?" you interrupt, crossing your arms defensively before leaning in slightly, "you're awfully nosy-"

"i only do this with the ones that seem to have something juicy going on." yoongi hums, leaning down to put the spray bottle of cleaner under the counter, "this is a flower shop. the most exciting part of my day is watching a bumblebee choose which flower to land on."

"well, nothing juicy is going on here so-" you twist back around before sticking your nose up in the air slightly, "sorry to disappoint."

"alright, fair enough." yoongi nods to himself, letting out a sigh as he slowly backs away from the counter, "i guess i'll just leave you to... wallow in self-pity... and continue staring at your friend with cartoon hearts floating around your head-"

"'you should tell him before it's too late-'" you swivel around and slap both your palms down on the counter, "why would you- why would even say something like that?! i can't tell him. are you insane?!"

a smirk twitches at the corner of yoongi's mouth at your sudden confession and he lets out a sigh before stepping back up towards you, "and why can't you tell him?"

"because- i just can't! he's-" you clear your throat before leaning in and lowering your voice, "he's literally taking someone else out on a date- we're here to buy flowers for his date-"

"so what?" yoongi interrupts, "it's just a date. it's not like you're stopping his wedding."

"so what? because he doesn't like me back, so what's the point?" you hiss, resisting the urge to reach over and smack some common sense into this very nosy and very stubborn stranger, "this isn't a romantic comedy- and even if it was, i'm very obviously not the main character-"

"you don't know that he doesn't like you back."

...

well now he's just toying with you

"i... i can't tell if you're kidding or not-"

"do i look like i'm kidding?" yoongi asks, pointing to his poker face before shaking his head, "you don't know that he doesn't like you back. you've obviously never asked him."

"oh, please." you scoff, turning around to lean back against the counter again, "trust me, i know it."

"well, did he ever explicitly say that he didn't like you?" yoongi leans over to peek at jungkook over your shoulder, "do you have a definitive answer to this particular question?"

"no, but he doesn't have to... we're just friends." you frown, your eyes wandering over to the back of jungkook's head, "he doesn't like me. i know he doesn't. we're just friends."

we're just friends.

(saying it out loud is a lot more depressing than you thought it'd be.)

"well, maybe the reason why you're just friends is because the two of you won't allow yourselves to be more than that," yoongi suggests, your head tilting to the side slightly as you force yourself to consider his surprisingly wise words, "it's obvious that you have a solid friendship so it would suck if a relationship ruined that- so maybe he does like you and is only asking someone else out to try to force himself not to like you..."

you feel your heart skip a beat when jungkook turns to glance at you over his shoulder with a soft smile while seokjin continues rattling off about the vast choice of teddy bears available for purchase

you bite back a giggle when he mouths a desperate 'help' at you before raising his hand and twirling his finger next to his head to tell you that seokjin is fully crazy

"...so i guess what i'm trying to say is that you're never really going to know how he feels about you if you don't ask him," you tune back in to the end of yoongi's little speech and you turn your head slightly to glance back at him, "but what do i know, right? i just polish counters at high-end flower shops."

🎙️tell jungkook he's being an idiot or tell y/n to get a backbone (send in an ask!)

✨why don’t you explore the rest of the library while you’re here? (full fics!)

💫or perhaps you want something shorter to read? (drabbles and mini series like smitten!)

🌟or something even shorter? (teeny tidbits!)

898 notes · View notes

miksterrr · 2 years ago

Text

Do not pass go. Do not collect $200

So uh this is gonna be the first fic I've posted in like five years. Hyper-fixation and the need for validation does that too you ig. Cross-posted on ao3.

TW: Strong language (a bunch of f-bombs, sorry) Talk about not getting a childhood, mentions of abuse and bullying, talking about abandonment, crying, yelling, crying to sleep, probably cringe too but oh well. (uh I think that's it but tell me if I forgot anything, please!)

It's set about two weeks after Child's Play (s2e05)

also like 3.9k words too sorry

"Where’s Lloyd?” Jay groaned, walking into the kitchen, “He’s late for training, again.”

Zane and Cole were the only ones in the kitchen. Currently, Cole was at one of the counters, concentrating on mixing… something. While Zane stood over his shoulder, making sure Cole didn’t add anything to the mix. Judging by the only other mixing bowl they had was in the sink, and a weirder smell than usual coming from the trash can, Zane wasn’t as observant the first time. Zane raised a brow. “That’s quite strange.” He mused. “It’s quite unlike Lloyd to be late two days in a row.”

Jay huffed, crossing his arms, “This better not become a habit,” he grumpbled, bitten nails scratching at the blue gi. “Sensei would have our heads if he realized Lloyd has been late.”

“Come to mention it, I haven’t seen Lloyd all day.” Cole finally spoke up, looking up from the bowl. He glanced over his shoulder to look at Jay, “Have either of you?”

Jay and Zane shared a glance, “I haven’t seen Lloyd since dinner last night.” Zane answered.

“Same.” Jay chewed on his lip, glancing over at the stove top. A blinking red light showed 12:33 pm. With it already past noon, and no sign of Lloyd is not the best sign. From living in such small quarters, if you didn’t see each other by morning training or breakfast, you would at least heard them by now. Judging by the looks on both Cole and Zane’s faces they have grown just as concerned as Jay.

“That’s… really not good, guys.” Cole worries. He paused mixing, turning his full attention to his brothers, leaning against the counter. “If we haven’t even heard him…”

“Heard who?”

Jay yelped at the unexpected voice and fell into Zane, who righted Jay up. Cole looked up to meet the eyes of Kai, an expectant look on his face as he wiped away sweat from a just-finished workout. Nya stood beside her brother, grease covering her face from being in the pits of the Bounty all day. Cole sighed. “None of us have heard or seen Lloyd all day.”

“W-What!?” Kai panicked.

Nya rolled her eyes, “He’s probably just sleeping in,” She moved to the fridge to grab one of the premade smoothies. “We all know he deserves it.”

The group grew quiet, the coldness of the kitchen crept up their spines, just the simple reminder of Lloyd’s sudden aging up able to make them all clam up in regret and anger. “He still hasn’t talked about it.” Kai mentioned. He rubbed his arm back and forth, trying to calm himself.

“That can’t be healthy.” Cole sighed, he looked up at the ceiling and closed his eyes. “He has to process it at some point… I’m starting to get worried.”

Kai nodded, “Yeah.” He agreed, glancing at his brothers and sister, concern ever-present on all of their faces. The fire user glanced over at the stove clock, “Does anyone know when Sensei will be back?”

“He left yesterday morning, right?” Nya asked, and after a few nods confirming her, she sighs. “He’ll probably be back by three if everything went right.”

“Fuck.” Kai groaned,

“Kai!” Zan chasited.

Kai just rolled his eyes, giving a weak glare to the ice user. Sensei being away was the only reason why Lloyd was able to get away with being late to training. Ever since Lloyd aged up, Sensei has been even more strict with the blond’s training regiment. The kid didn’t get a break between aging up and starting training again. The ninja tried to oppose him, but Lloyd himself had agreed, saying he was ready for the heavier training now that he was in a more capable body. “I’ll go check on Lloyd.”

“Call if anything’s wrong.“ Cole spoke up, sending a meaningful look to Kai, and Kai just nodded, knowing just how parently Cole can get when one of them is troubled in some way, shape, or form.

“I will.” Kai left the four in the kitchen, going down the halls of the bounty, hand trailing the red walls of their home. The walls were as bare as the day they found the bounty, no pictures or paintings or anything else decorated the walls. Only chips and cracks, some from them, some from the previous owners of the bounty, stories that they could only imagine.

It didn’t take long for Kai to reach the cleaned-out storage closet that was fitted to be Lloyd’s room. The kid wasn’t ready to move into the same room as the ninja, and all of them respected that, but they also knew sooner or later Sensei would make him. Kai sighed as he knocked on the door, “Hey, kiddo. It’s Kai, can I come in?”

There was no response. Kai waited a few seconds before knocking again, “Lloyd?” he asked, hand gripping the door knob.

A small voice came from the room, “You can come in..”

Kai’s ears strained to hear the voice, but with permission, Kai didn’t hesitate to enter. He closed the door behind him as he scanned over every space in the room, there was a small mattress shoved into one corner of the room, a thin, scrunched up, white blanket, was covering the bed. A simple wooden night stand was placed next to the bed. That’s about it, the room was not big enough to fit anything else.

Lloyd was curled up in the other corner of the room, and Kai had to blink away the tears welling up at the sight of his baby brother. Lloyd’s head was in his knees and sweater paws gripped at the oversized grey sweats. The sweats were rolled up multiple times at the ankle to prevent any tripage, and the drawstrings were pulled tight, the waist band was folded over multiple times and the sweatpants were still in danger of slipping off his lithe frame. The red sweater was borrowed from Kai, and despite it being bought a few years ago, it still hung off of Lloyd. There was no telling where his actual body was, all the more reason for Kai to scoop Lloyd into his arms and run away with his brothers and sister. Kai wished he had enough courage to do that, to curse out Wu, because even with it being two weeks since the tea, they still hadn’t had a chance to get any clothes for Lloyd that actually fit him.

Kai was able to cross the room in a matter of seconds, he crouched down in front of the blond. “What’s up, Greenie?” Lloyd recoiled at the nickname, and Kai couldn’t help but let out a curse, “Shit, sorry kiddo.” Kai swallowed, Lloyd never had that reaction to that nickname before, it made Kai even more concerned. “Wanna tell me what’s bothering you, bud?”

Lloyd only shrugged, mumbling a few words into his knees.

Kai sighed, “I need you to speak up kiddo, use your words.” Kai spoke softly, reaching a scarred hand out to rub Lloyd’s knee, thankful that Lloyd didn’t flinch at the touch. Kai was using the tone that was reserved for the scared or hurt kids they found on missions. He couldn’t help but hate himself for using it on Lloyd. “Please, kiddo? I need to know what’s bothering you to fix it.”

Finally, Lloyd glanced up to meet Kai’s gaze, his eyes were puffy and dried tear marks covered his cheeks.”There’s those beautiful reds.” Kai smiled softly at the kid, “Tell me what’s wrong, so awesome big brother Kai can fix it!”

Lloyd only shook his head. Kai sighed, ”Can you at least tell me why you haven’t gone to training today?”

Lloyd only shrugged, “Didn’t wan’ to.” He murmured, trying to hide his face in his legs again.

Kai nodded slightly, “That’s okay kiddo, next time just tell one of us and we’ll give you a break.”

“No!” Lloyd exclaimed, head flying up and meeting Kai’s concerned gaze again.

“No?” Kai asked, brows furrowing, “Lloyd, what-”

“I can’t take a break.” Lloyd gritted, his hands began to claw at his sweats, teeth grinding.

“What do you mean Lloyd?” Kai breathed, “Of course, you can take a break-”

“No! I can’t!” Lloyd argued, nostrils flaring, he’s trying to get his point across, but with not much context, Kai was still, undoubtedly confused.

“Lloyd, please, just explain to me-”

“I’m the Green Ninja. I can’t take a break. If I take a break I’ll get rusty.” Lloyd finally explained, and Kai couldn’t help but gape at him.

“Lloyd, no,” Kai tried, “That’s not how it works- you need to give your body and mind a break so it can actually gather all the information it needs to help you get better.”

“I get a break when I sleep.” Lloyd tried arguing.

“I doubt that.” Kai huffed, his voice hardening, sending a pointed glare to Lloyd. The ever-present eyebags on the kid have only gotten worse in the past two weeks, to the point where Kai thought they were actually going to become permanent.

Lloyd huffed, “You don’t get it, Kai.”

“Then make me get it, kid.” Kai retorted, “Make me get why you don’t deserve a break.”

“I’m not a kid!” Lloyd hissed, his eyes started to get glassy, but the desperate anger was ever present, “I’ve never been a kid.”

“Is this about the tea?” Kai jumped at the chance, a glimmer of hope brimming in his chance that this was Lloyd finally talking about it.

Lloyd scoffed, “I don’t care about that stupid tea Kai!”

Kai gave a small gasp of a laugh out of surprise, “What do you mean tomorrow’s tea doesn’t matter?!” Kai fumed, ears turning red in anger, “Of course it matters! You gave up your childhood to save us. That shouldn’t have happened.”

Lloyd let out a small laugh out of disbelief. “Are you fucking kidding me Kai?!”

“Lloyd!”

“Don’t bother Kai.” Lloyd rolled his eyes, arms falling down to his sides, fists clenched. “Those ‘bad words,’ were the first things in my vocabulary, Kai.” Lloyd mocked.

“That doesn’t mean you can use them, Lloyd.” Kai tried, “I thought we were over this.”

Lloyd snorted, “I was raised at Darkley’s, Kai. Y’know a school meant for teaching kids all the ways to be ��evil.’” Lloyd shook his head, “The first thing we were taught was how to use those words, that we should use those words.”

Kai chewed on his lip, running a hand through his brunet locks, “Kiddo…”

“That’s just it, Kai.” Lloyd huffed, “I’ve never been a kid.”

“W-what? Lloyd-”

“What Kai?!” Lloyd snapped, “I haven’t been a kid since my mom abandoned me at Darkley’s! She left me, without a note of my age or how to contact her or how to contact Uncle Wu or my dad. She left.” Lloyd seethed, his face was flushed red from the anger, fists burning with power, “I haven’t been a kid since I was being bullied and abused by students and teachers! Not since Darkley’s kicked me out for being too good, Kai.” He all but laughed, it was… dead, no humour filled it. All Kai could do is watch as his baby brother melted in his anger.

“I haven’t been a kid since I was scavenging through trash cans to fucking survive, Kai! Not since I released the serpentine, or since they kidnapped me, and especially not since destiny decided I’m the one that is suppose to defeat my dad!” Lloyd heaved, choking back the sobs that threatened to break free.

“Lloyd,” Kai tried, but Lloyd wasn’t listening to the fire ninja, he just continued on his rant.

“I have never been a kid, Kai.” Lloyd swallowed, “That’s why I don’t care about the tomorrow's tea. Destiny was already trying to make me older, so I just gave it the body to help it along.” Lloyd shook his head, “All I was doing was helping destiny along!” Lloyd gave his big brother a weak smile, but with the rage simmering in Kai, it was no use trying to comfort him. “If I was ever a kid I would’ve known how to live, not just survive!”

Kai scoffed, running a hand through his hair as he finally let himself fall back onto his bottom. He looked his brother up and down, before slowly nodding to himself, “Destiny is bullshit.” He lamented, making eye contact with Lloyd.

Lloyd only rolled his eyes, “No fucking duh, Kai.” He huffed, crossing his arms over himself, “They decided that a stupid fucking brat is supposed to fight and defeat his father.” He laughed, “Hell, destiny gave us all bullshit hands, Kai. I thought you would’ve figured this out a long fucking time ago.”

“Hey, hey… kiddo, Lloyd,” Kai tried smiling, trying to give Lloyd some kind of comfort even though it was long past that. “Just… take a second and breathe kiddo, please?”

Lloyd scoffed, “Breathing won’t help this Kai!” He growled. “Breathing won’t make this go away! We can’t turn back time, we can’t change fucking destiny. I can never-” Lloyd’s voice finally broke. “I can never be a kid, Kai.” Lloyd choked on sobs, one thin, boney hand came to cover his mouth and the other clawed at his thigh.

“Oh, kid.” Kai whispered, pulling the blond into an embrace. Lloyd’s arms stayed where they were, but Kai didn’t care. He placed his head on top of Lloyd’s, one hand started rubbing Lloyd’s back and the other was running through his hair. Kai shushed the boy, starting to rock them back and forth. “It’s okay Lloyd… It’s gonna be okay.” Kai swallowed, “We’re all going to be okay, and we’re going to figure this out. I promise.”

“How?” Lloyd croaked from Kai’s shoulder.

“What?”

Lloyd pulled back, “How are we going to figure this out?” He asked, tears streaming down his face, no sign of stopping.

“Lloyd, kiddo. Listen to me, okay?” Kai held the boy’s face into his hands, thumbs rubbing away some of the tears, “I promise you’ll learn how to live, and not just survive okay? I promise we’ll take you out on normal adventures, ones that the average joe goes out on. Okay?” Kai grinned, ignoring how every time he blinked his own tears escaped, focusing on his baby brother. “We can go to the beach, arcade, amusement park, whatever you want to do, kid. Even if that’s buying out an entire candy store.” Lloyd gave a small giggle to that phrasing, making Kai’s grin even brighter. “You’re allowed to be immature, Lloyd.”

The blond tried to protest but Kai didn’t let him. “I don’t care how old you are, or how old you’re supposed to be kiddo. You’re allowed to be immature and cry and act out. You’re allowed to be a kid. Like it or not kiddo, all of us still act like immature brats every so often, don’t be afraid to act out.” Lloyd nodded along to Kai, his tears streaming. “We’ll teach you how to live, Lloyd.” Kai pressed his lips to Lloyd’s forehead. A loud sob tore through Lloyd’s throat, leading him to hide his face in Kai’s neck again, his arms moving to cling onto Kai’s gi, his grip as strong as Cole’s.

Kai continued to rub Lloyd’s back and whisper words of comfort and reassurances into his ear. They stayed for what felt like an hour until Lloyd passed out due to utter exhaustion. Kai sighed, he waited a few more minutes before standing up with Lloyd in his grasp. Kai grimaced at how he didn’t stagger under Lloyd’s weight. Sure, he was expecting to not deal with a lot of weight, but the fact that Lloyd’s weighed next to nothing to him made Kai want to break down crying again.

Kai sat down on Lloyd's bed, setting Lloyd’s head on his lap, the rest of the blond’s body sprawled on the bed. Kai continued to run a hand through the boy’s hair as he leaned his own head back against the wall, taking a deep breath. Only minutes later, there was a knock at the door. Kai raised an eyebrow. If someone came knocking then he must’ve been in here for a while. “Come in!” Kai called softly.

Cole and Nya appeared at the entrance. “How’s the kid?” Nya asked.

Kai sighed. “He just cried himself to sleep, so take your guess.”

Both Cole and Nya grimaced at that, “That’s… really not good.” Cole sighs, he moves to sit down at the end of the bed. “Poor kid.”

“I knew he needed time before he started training again!” Nya remarked, raising a brow at the two ninjas.

“I know, I know.” Kai sighs, he ran a hand through his hair, “We should do something fun.” Kai licked his lips, “Preferably, tomorrow. Y’know, finally give Lloyd the break he deserves.”

“I agree.” Nya’s reply was instant, voice firm. There was no arguing with her, especially when it came to her baby brother. Nya's anger and protective streak could get worse than Kai’s.

“I do too,” Cole faltered.

“Why do I sense a ‘but,’ Colby?” Nya dared, a hostile gaze staring at the Master of Earth.

Cole huffed, “I said I agreed with you, Nya.” He and Nya stared at each other for a few seconds, before Nya sighed. She crossed her arms and looking at anything that wasn’t Cole. “But, what about Sensei Wu?” He glanced between the two siblings before continuing, “You both know that Wu will never go to give Lloyd a break. He’s been a stickler since we found out Lloyd was the Green Ninja.”

“So what?!” Kai asked, he glanced up at Cole, “So the fuck what?” He repeated, “We’ll lie then! Lloyd doesn’t deserve this shit- he doesn’t know how to live!” Kai heaved, amber eyes glassy as he stared into calm mauve. “We’re taking our baby brother out to an amusement park or bowling or laser tag or whatever he wants to do.” Kai nodded as if he was trying to assure himself, “And-and we’ll tell Wu that we’re training Lloyd at Dareth’s! That we’re giving him a new place to train or something like that!”

“Okay.” Cole nodded, “That… that could work.” Cole let out a small sigh, glancing at the fire ninja, who was back to looking down at Lloyd, brushing the greenie’s hair, before glancing at his sister. The two shared a meaningful look.

“Alright! I’ll tell Zane and Jay!” Nya smiled, leaving the room and closing the door behind her.

Cole put a dark hand on Lloyd’s calf, when the blond didn’t move, Cole’s eyebrows shot up, “Damn. He must’ve been really wiped out.”

"Yeah.” Kai swallowed. For as long as the ninja knew the boy, he was a light sleeper, he would wake up to anything, noise, touch, didn’t matter. There was never a good time to ask, but it didn’t take a genius to put two together. Too many rude awakenings from Darkley’s or the street, never feeling safe enough to actually fall asleep.

“What happened?” Cole asked, beginning to rub circles into Lloyd’s calf.

Kai sighed, glancing up at the taller man, “He yelled, I yelled, we yelled some more, Lloyd had an emotional breakdown, more childhood trauma unlocked, some crying fests, I got emotional, and then he passed out after crying so much.”

Cole grimaced, “Every time I hear about Lloyd’s past,” He paused, before letting out a big sigh, “Or hell, his future, I want to sucker punch destiny in its fucking face.”

“Or his family.”

“Or his family.” Cole smirked.

Their conversation died there. The silence was filled with the sound of hands scraping fabric and hair. It was relatively peaceful until Kai started to chew his lip, and the hand playing with Lloyd’s hair started getting rougher. Cole’s brow quirked as he stared at Kai, after a few more minutes of the same movements just getting rougher, he finally spoke up. “You okay, hot head? It seems like something’s bothering you..”

Kai scoffed, “I wish I was the Green Ninja.”

Cole’s brows furrowed, lips pursed. “W-What? Kai-”

“What?!”

“Is this like… some kind of weird jealousy coming back up?

“Jealousy?! Are you kidding me, Cole?!” Kai scoffs, shaking his head.

“Care to share, Kai?” Cole huffs, “I’m not a mind reader.”

“I’m not jealous!”

“Then what are you?”

“I dunno?! Hateful?! Wanting to fight anyone that comes into Lloyd’s path?! Wishing all of his trauma can be dumped on me?!” Kai heaves, tears starting to slip down his tan face, again.

“Hey, Kai. I need you to calm down.” Cole tried.

“Calm down?!”

“Hey- Hot head. Take a breath, or else you’re going to wake up Lloyd.” Cole warned, placing his free hand on the fire user’s shoulder.

Kai’s eyes widened, glancing down at his younger brother. Lloyd’s face was scrunched up, eyes moving underneath his eyelids. “Shit.” He whispers. Kai bites his lip, running his hand through the blond’s hair again. They waited in tense silence until Lloyd’s face relaxed. Kai gave a sigh of relief, clenching his eyes shut.

Cole slowly nodded, scanning Kai. “Are you calm enough to talk about this now?” Kai shrugged. Cole quirked a brow. “C’mon Kai, I need you to explain this to me.”

“Why couldn’t it be anyone else?” Kai asked, voice rough as he swallowed down a sob. He looked up at Cole, “Literally anyone else?”

Cole lets a breath out through his nose, “I dunno Kai.”

“He’s just a kid. Didn't even get a fucking childhood because of his parents.” Kai cries, “Because of this stupid fucking destiny bullshit.” Kai shoved a scarred hand through his hair. “If someone is writing his destiny, they have fucking hell to pay. FSM, Cole.” Kai gasped. “It’s not fair.”

“Of course, it isn’t fair, Kai.” Cole scoffs. 1“None of us had a fair life.” Cole pauses, brows furrowing. “It’s almost like a right of passage, all heroes must experience a trauma to become a hero.” Cole tried to joke. Kai gave a huff of laughter, causing Cole to smirk before getting serious again. “I don’t know why Lloyd was chosen to be the Green Ninja, or why he didn’t get a loving mother. Or a father who didn’t have snake venom running through his veins, but somehow, someway destiny led this punk of a kid to us.” Cole smiled, eyes creasing, trying to stop the tears that invade his vision.

“But I do know that we are going to give him the best childhood ever. I don’t care how old he is, or how old he’ll get, we’ll give him what he missed out on. And we’ll show Lloyd that the blood that runs in his veins doesn’t connect him to the same blood that runs his mother’s or his dad’s, or even Sensei Wu’s. Even if his mom comes running back or if Lord Garmadon is somehow cured, the kid will always have us. And no matter what, we’re the ones who gave him his first memories with an actual, loving family. Got it?” Cole grinned, the hand on Kai’s shoulder came up to cup the fire ninja’s cheek.

Kai nodded, giving Cole a watery smile. “Yeah. I got it.”

“Good.” Cole smiled right back at Kai, rubbing his tears away. “And if someone is writing Lloyd’s destiny, the day we meet them, they won’t live to see another day.” Cole winked, and Kai barked out a laugh.

Kai blinked away a few tears as he looked at Cole. “You sure we can raise him? That we can teach him all that he needs to know?”

Cole grinned, “If not us, who else?”

hope you somehow enjoyed! :)

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wizkiddx · 4 years ago

Text

your voice

angsty vibe, requested by @hollandlover19 than you for th rq and hop this doesn't disappoint too much :)))

summary: tom says something so stupid and has to deal with the consquences

warnings: a bit angsty, but ends in fluff! argumnts and raising voices, I guess could be associated with panic attacks tho not written with that intention

//////////////////////////////////

“Oh, Y/n er sorry.” Harrisons morning dulcet tones were what you were awoken to with a groan.

Everything was achy, and your head was pounding, making you grumble in discontent as you shifted uncomfortably on the technically too-small-to-sleep-on sofa.

This was not the morning you’d foreseen even 12 hours ago.

Lockdown had been difficult for everyone, even removing the tragic health crisis. Being locked in with your boyfriend and his brothers and friends was, for the most part, amazing. Lots of laughs, lots of beers and lots of quality time that you usually didn’t get. But it was also intense.

Without a doubt, since you first got together, this was the longest time you’d ever had with Tom. And it had been brilliant, your relationship getting so much closer and just learning the subtlest intricacies about the other. In fact, when lockdown had been announced, you’d never lived together (the most a week-long holiday).

Though it was also like a pressure cooker, Toms rented house. When one of you were in an understandable but stubborn lousy mood, it affected the whole house.

Yesterday night had been the perfect storm. The weather was unbelievably scorching; your work had announced that they had to let some staff go because of the financial implications of the pandemic; a ‘mole’ had released personal details of your relationship.

And it was like a pot on the stove; everything went from controllable to violently boiling over in a matter of minutes.

Honestly, you didn’t even know why you had started arguing - it was that pathetic. And yet you’d both said pretty horrible stuff - though it was Tom who had crossed the line. Frankly, the way he’d spoken to you was almost unforgivable.

You’d both known instantly too, all his anger at you had immediately evaporated when he’d realised what he had said. It took no time for him to become a grovelling apologetic mess, however even that- it was already too late.

It might sound feeble, but honestly, you’d run and locked yourself in the downstairs loo. You’d cried on the inside- whilst from the other side of the door, he had been begging and pleading with you.

After an hour though, Tom finally gave up - hence why you’d had a pretty uncomfortable night on the sofa.

This brings it back to Harrison, the early riser of the house, barrelling into the living room after his morning run. All bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, except also slightly terrified looking as he stood awkwardly in the doorway.

“I’m up now” You sighed, dragging yourself into a sitting position on the sofa whilst massaging your crooked neck.

“You er…. you fell asleep watching the TV?” Rolling your eyes, you sighed at the blonde, even if his poor acting was a little entertaining.

“Are we both pretending that you don’t know what went down last night?” Of course, Harrison knew. The walls were thin, you’d been screaming and he was Tom’s best friend. No doubt, Tom had immediately gone to him for help and advice last night.

Harrison held his hands up in response, caught in the act, and clicked his tongue. “What he said was bad. You shouldn’t be the one ending up with the sore back.” He wasn’t wrong.

“And yet here I am…” With a sigh you smiled which he returned with a sickeningly empathetic one “Anyway, don’t let my sad self get in the way, did you come in here for anything?”

Now, because Harrison was mentally a five year old, that’s how you ended up sat crossed-legged on the floor, clutching a wii remote and angrily shouting at yoshi on the mariokart screen. The whole household was competitive as hell and you were no exception - so some rouge elbows were flying when he viciously knocked you off the track.

Slowly Harry and Tuwaine filtered in and picked up remotes too, so the quiet morning was very quickly switched into a tense atmosphere of yelps and shouts. None more so than Tuwaine, who was possibly the worst looser you had ever met.

Really, you knew all the boys were only doing this as there way of showing you they were with you. That they also thought Tom was a massive raging dickhead. And you appreciated it more than they would ever know. Locked down in Toms house, very much not mutual ground, having three stupid boys behind you meant everything.

Just as you got on to the 18th and final race of the house’s mario grand prix, another voice cut across the tense silence as you waited for the coutdown to turn into ‘go’. Naturally, you flipped round to see Tom, looking as though he literally just rolled out of bed with puffy eyes and messy hair and no top. The sight made your heart flutter, to the point you had to consciously check yourself - refusing to smile softly at him like you usually would, instead narrowing your eyebrows and looking back at the TV.

Tom had so desperately hoped that when he came down this morning, everything would be better. That all it’d take would be a quiet conversation for the two of you to make up - for him to have you in his arms again. Primarily as he had heard your excited laugh echoing through the halls in reactions to Tuwaines yelps of protests - it made him hopeful. Waking up to a cold and empty bed was almost soul-crushing this morning. He did not want it to ever happen again.

Which is why his heart sank so much when all you gave him was a scolding look, before turning your attention to the TV. Admittedly, he was naive to think that what he’d done last night would be an easy fix - he knew it too. So with dropping shoulders, Tom silently took a seat on the sofa, watching from afar. You spent the rest of the race more absent, not joining in with the Harrison or Harrys trash-talking, acutely aware of Tom’s eyes burning the back of your head.

Then came Harry’s celebrations as the overall winner (only just) and when Harrison suggested another game Tom piped up again.

“Give me a turn Harry.”

The three boys kneeling next to you all stiffened, looking immediately to you for what seemed like consent - as if they were engaging with the enemy. (At least it was good to know everyone was on your side).

“I’m gonna go prepare for my meeting anyway.” You spoke quietly, already placing the remote on the floor and standing up.

“Y/n I don’t mind swappin-“

“No. Thanks, H but no.” You weren’t being selfless and giving Tom a turn. You were running away from seeing him.

And Harrison was still really angry at Tom. He’d been so selfish and insensitive and had hurt you- someone who Haz also cared a lot about too. Yes Tom was his bestmate, that he’d grown up with and known for years - but Haz really liked you too, in fact all the boys did. So they were almost as pissed with Tom as you were.

So while you threw the cushion you were sat on back on the floor, Harrison shot Tom the filthiest look and practically shooed him away.

“come on Y/n … just one more? Then you can do your boring work.” You were about to refuse when Haz tilted his head toward the door, only then noticing that Tom had slipped out the room. Now that he was gone ,yes, just one more wouldn’t hurt. The meeting prep wasn’t time pressured; it was an excuse for an escape.

Tuwaine whooped a little when you nodded, planting back down and ready for the first race. Yet apart from that, the room was still a little awkward, you being the first to break the silence.

“Actually Haz, would you mind giving me a lift today?”

“What to the shops?

“Um no not quite.” Tuwaine laughed in his usual innocent and infectious style before asking more.

“Seriously? You know we’re locked down? Boris won’t be happy if you going mad and leaving the house.”

“Just to Y/f/n’s. She lives on her own so it’s legal.”

“She lives just down the road right? Can’t you walk?” Harry was confused, making him look away from the screen, ultimately leading to his ‘diddykong’ falling off the track.

“I’ll have my bags. I um… I think I’m going to stay with her till lockdown eases more.”

As soon as you said that, Harry pressed pause on the race, all three boys looking at you mouth-opened.

“For real?”

“Yeh I um… think me and Tom need some time apart and being locked in isn’t helping.”

“I’m not saying to forgive and forget what he said… but he is really sorry.”

“The twats literally kicking himself.” Tuwaine added, making you smile a little for calling Tom that.

“I know just… I need some space and-“

“Are you breaking up?” Harry almost announced, cutting you off. He would miss you too.

“No! Nono I … well I don’t know. I just- we both need this.”

The boys all nodded, looking at the floor for a moment before Harrison’s blue eyes were back on you.

“Course I’ll drive, but… but I’ll miss you.”

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

You’d left merely an hour later, whilst Tom was holed up in the garden doing what looked like an almost unbearable work out. It meant he was also out your hair and you could throw all your stuff into two suitcases without him being any the wiser. It was probably pretty cowardly to leave without speaking to him, but you couldn’t. It would hurt too much and you didn’t want to break down in front of him. No doubt as soon as you had got to Y/f/n you did - into a blubbering mess of tears - but Tom hadn’t seen so it was okay.

Speaking of. Tom.

Tom was not in a good way at all. He’d been trying really hard to curb his’ short fuse’ lately- all of which had been well and truly blown in the past 4 hours. After finally being realised from meetings, which he’d not been able to concentrate on anyway, Tom had mentally prepared himself for a lot of grovelling. Once he’d vaguely hunted the house and not found you there, he naturally asked Harry and Tuwaine (both of whom were in the living room) if they’d seen you around.

It was a typical question, the answer he was expecting was that you’d just gone on your daily walk. And yet the response he got was… well a lot more confusing. Harry’s eyes widened whilst T did his awkward-uncomfortable chuckle, the two locked in an intense bout of eye contact. It was as though they were arguing with each, but through the powers of telekinesis... and it put Tom on edge. He was already stressed because you were so angry with him, so not getting a clear answer out of his brother and best mate - lets just say it tested his patience.

“You two need to tell me what the hell is going on right now.”

The two boys both looked panicked to speak to him, which was the opposite of the usual situation. They were some of the ONLY people in his life that would just say it how it is, no sugar coating. Like if he was away and being ‘famous’ was getting to his head; or if he wore the wrong pair of jeans. Even yesterday evenings events, they’d both called him out on what he’d said to you.

So why the silence?

Eventually, it was Harry who spoke up, but in doing so, practically just waved all responsibility on to another innocent party.

“Ask Haz.”

And then Tom knew. He knew this was bad. Immediately his heart was pumping at an alarmingly fast rate, taking the stairs two at a time and not bothering to knock before bursting the door open.

“Where’s Y/n?”

Harrison was reclined back on his haphazardly made bed, laptop balanced on his lap as he looked up with a sigh. He’d known this conversation was coming, but it didn’t make it any less easy. With a sigh, Haz closed the lid of his MacBook and sat up on the bed.

“Tom just-“

“Where. Is. She.”

“She’s gone to Y/f/n’s.”

“Oh… okay.” Suddenly Tom’s voice was muted, thinking he might’ve blown his top at nothing. This wasn’t weird - Y/f/n was in your support bubble and you went to hers often.

Tom was grossly underestimating the situation - and Harrison heard didn’t fancy stringing him along though.

“No like gone. She um… she took all her stuff. I think she’s going to stay there till-“

Tom was already out his room at that point, slamming the door as he did so. Making a beeline for his own room, Tom then frantically started to pull out the draws and rummage around the shelves, confirming what he already knew. Your clothes were gone, your toothbrush and toiletries were gone, you were gone.

It’s important to note Tom didn’t really cry all that much. Or if he did - it was more inconsequential, at a sad movie or one of the rescue dog stories from battersea. Actually, when it came down to it, he didn’t really cry.

Now though, it was impossible to ignore the burning of his eyes, as he sank down onto the bed that now felt twice the size. With ragged breath, he repeatedly fisted his eyes, not actually letting the tears fall - but it was impossible to not acknowledge their presence. Harrison stood wordlessly at the door frame, knowing it best not to interrupt - whilst at the same time knowing Tom shouldn’t be left alone. There was a delicate balance between the two, which he was walking on a knife-edge on right now.

After a short while, Tom looked up with red eyes and nodded at Harrison, effectively granting him entrance. With a sigh once again, Haz moved and sat next to Tom on the bed, clasping his hands together nervously.

“She said you both just needed a break from each other. Think lockdown and everything was just a bit too intense.” Haz had tried to explain, yet it seemed Tom had only managed to lock onto one of the first words.

“A break? Or breaking up?”

“I uhm… she didn’t explicitly say ending things. But I just… I don’t know to be honest mate.”

“You see the way she looked at me this morning? Like she hated me. Wouldn’t even acknowledge that I was there.”

“I don’t know what to say… she needs time and space I think.” Tom was silent for a beat, shaking his head as he cradled his forehead.

“I hate the fact you and my girlfriend are on better terms than I am.” Anddd his voice was back to scathing.

“I’m not on anyones side. But your both my friends and she… she needed some time.”

With that, Harrison made a quick exit out, getting Harry to take over the Tom supervision.

Ever since the atmosphere in the house had been tense. To say Tom was highly strung was an understatement, particularly towards Harrison. Deep down he was thankful Haz was looking out for Y/n: he was glad that Haz was checking she was okay. It’s not like Tom could, because Y/n was refusing to answer his calls, texts, whatsapps, even the slip of paper he’d slipped under Y/f/n’s door in the middle of an especially dark night.

So it was good to know Y/n was okay, but the fact she was going on socially distanced walks with the rest of his housemates was rubbing salt in the wound.

After a week and a half of complete radio silence on your end Tom had utterly worn down. He didn’t have the emotional capacity to be angry anymore, he was just tired. Tired of missing you with every breath, tired of the ten-tonne weight of guilt pressing on his chest, fucking exhausted with being angry at Haz and Harry and Tuwaine.

The best thing in his life and one of the very limited opportunities was quality time with the people he loved more than anything else. He had ruined it all.

And it was the small things. It was waking up to your soft, whispered voice in the morning; it was your infectious giggle when he surprised you with a hug from behind and gentle kisses to your neck; it was your quiet singing in the shower. Especially when he knew Haz, Harry and Tuwaine were all still seeing you and laughing with you. It hurt like hell.

Which is how he ended up hesitantly knocking on Harrison’s bedroom door at half eleven at night, with his tail between his legs. Having been so uber-healthy all lockdown, Haz was already in bed following his sleep cycle, though for Tom right now- he would be awake.

“I’m um… I’m sorry I’ve been a knob. There’s no excuse of anything I’ve just… I’ve been a knob.”

“You’re not wrong.” Harrison nodded in agreement with a sly smile, motioning for Tom to come into the room, after which he perched on the edge of the bed.

“I just… I need to speak to her but I… I don’t want to push her if she’s still hurting and I…”

“You absolutely promise not to blow your fuse? Because she couldn’t handle that.” Tom’s eyes widened, thinking this would be a much harder pitch than how it seemed to be going.

“Yesyesyes i- I promise. I just, I feel broken you know? Even if all I get is the time to say sorry, I-I really need to.”

Harrison released a deep breath, nodding slowly before throwing the covers off himself. Tom watched all his movements with a curious gaze, silently sitting as Haz pulled on a hoodie, then socks too.

“Well? Let’s go.”

//////////////////

Now, what Tom had not in the slightest bit been prepared for was this to happen tonight. Really, he hadn’t even thought Harrison would agree to let him talk to you… and even if he had, Tom not in hell thought it’d be at 11:30 that evening.

His heart was thundering in his chest, trying to hurriedly script how on earth he was going to apologise meaningfully to you - as him and Haz walked the short distance to your friends house. Honestly the whole situation was peculiar to Tom - finding it hard to believe that if you weren’t to answer his texts you wouldn’t be open to an in person conversation.

What Tom didn’t know, was how you’d been texting Haz at a similar point of desperation. You weren’t happy and even given everything Tom had said and acted - you missed your boy. No matter how infuriating he could be when trapped 24/7 - you’d quickly learnt this was the only way you wanted to spend these weird times.

So yes, Tom’s best friend knew you were hardly sleeping either, but needed that little push to interact with you boyfriend. No doubt, you’d still be awake to answer the door.

Once he’d arrived at the apartment block and walked up the stairs to the right floor, it still took some prodding and pushing from Harrison to get Tom to knock on the door. Plainly, because he was shitting himself. Haz hadn’t given him enough pre warning, enough time to work it all out in his head. So it took another encouraging nod from Harrison for him to knock on the slightly rough-round-the-edges flat door.

Y/f/n was single and young, starting her career in Kingston - so the flat she could afford was modest at best. When it was just occupied by a single person, that was manageable - two was a push. You’d only been living with her for a week and a few days but it was enough to know this flat was not ideal for two people in lockdown. You were already stepping on each others toes. It also wasn’t technically legal to move households but Y/f/n had always been in your support bubble as a single household otherwise. And so there was also a layer of guilt to it all.

Naturally then, sharing a bed with someone who wasn’t Tom meant you just were not sleeping. Even if you had both gone to bed early (just to kill some hours in the day) you were still wide awake at quarter to twelve - when a timid knock echoed through the minuscule apartment. Curiosity peaked at who the hell would be calling now; you silently slipped out of bed, managing to not disturb Y/f/n, and closed the bedroom door.

Now you weren’t an idiot. Even though this was southwest london, hardly the capital for crime, Y/f/n lived in a dodgy building with some questionable characters. And it was midnight. Hence why you approached the situation cautiously, tiptoeing to the door and waiting with your ear pressed against the wood.

“I told you she wouldn’t answer!”

“She will! Might just be in the loo or something.”

“Haz this is stupid-“

The air in your chest froze when you immediately recognised the smooth tone of his voice. It was him… and you’d missed that so much. Already there were tears in your eyes and you couldn’t open the door just yet. So no, instead you slid down the doorframe before calling quietly out into the night.

“Tom?”

The bickering on the otherside of the door was silenced, but you heard a quite tap on the door... and could envision exactly what was going on. Tom, pressing both palms and his ear to the door, as Harrison took a few steps back - sensing his work was done.

“Y/n? You there?” He sounded desperate, you could hear the emotion dripping off his voice. It was only when you tried to reply did you realise your own voice was having a harder time speaking.

“Yeh its-its me.” It felt as though this heavyweight that had been pressing down on your chest was slowly lifting, making your voice all cracky and low.

In response, there was a short and sharp exhale. It sounded relieved before some fidgeting as you imagined him crouching down beside the door - mirroring your image.

“Fuck, it… it feels so good to hear your voice.”

“Yours too… I’ve-i’ve missed you.”

Tom snorted at that, a gentle bang allowing you to realise he’d just whacked his head on the back of the wood.

“You have no idea how this week felt.” He was wrong though, you did.

Yes, maybe without the insurmountable guilt that Tom was rightfully feeling, but it didn’t mean that the time apart wasn’t easy.

“I do. This hasn’t been a nice holiday for me you know?”

He sighed, knowing that yet again he’d said the wrong thing. This time though, he didn’t rebut instantly (which surprised you), instead his response was more measured and calculated.

“I am so sorry. And of course, I know because I was the one that hurt you too. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive myself for that.” You nodded but given this conversation was happening through a door Tom didn’t see your gentle agreement - opting to fill the silence.

“I um… I’m not good at this whole um… speaking my feelings. But I’ve hated myself ever since I picked that fight with you. It was stupid and uh it-it was all my fault. I’m so so sorry for hurting you.”

“‘Why?” You tried to ask, except the words were stuck in your throat, making you have to clear it before asking again. “Why did you say it?”

“To get a rise out of you. It’s stupid and petty and fucking-fucking dumb. I said it not because I’ve ever thought it, I never ever have, but I knew it’d hurt you. I was preying on your insecurities because I was angry at the world and that was so unfair. “

“No shit.”

Silence reigned as you fiddled with your fingers - specifically with the promise ring he’d bought you a year ago.

“You-you think you could ever forgive me?”

“Thats the annoying part. I want to hate you because you literally stabbed me then twisted the knife but… but all I’ve done this week is miss you. Even when I saw Haz or Harry or Tuwaine. I just fucking missed you.”

“Can you open the door please love?”

Clumsily you scrubbed the tear tracks off your face, scrabbling to your feet so you could thrust open the doors. Because you might still be bloody pissed at him, but at the same time - you needed your Tom. Thrusting the door open, the first thing you registered was being pressed into Tom’s chest. His arms slinked around your waist and held him tight, which you reciprocated, squeezing tightly round his neck. Your senses were all being assaulted by one thing and one thing only. Tom.

He smelt like usual, except maybe the slightest bit stronger than usual - you figured he hadn’t showered in a day or two or bothered with cologne. The top of your forehead was pressed up against his chin, and as he readjusted his grip on you, you felt the scratchy feeling of his unshaven stubble. He kept whispering apologies against the top of your head, almost desperate and religiously.

Arching back, you brought both hands to cup his cheeks, looking into his glassy brown. eyes, which looked so lost and confused.

“I’m still angry.”

“Of course-“

“I’m still angry but I’m going to kiss you okay?”

Safe to say Tom didn’t require a verbal response, taking it upon himself to nudge his lips against yours, yet waiting for you to initiate the kiss. And that you did, everything else about this godforsaken week and a half. His index finger traced the angle of your jaw, whilst he held your lower back tight, pressing himself as close as physically possible to you. Needing you.

Eventually arching back, your thumb ran over his deep and sunken under-eyes, which added so much age to his face.

“You look tired Tommy.”

“Can’t sleep without you telling me goodnight.” That was another tradition you had had. Even when he was away, you’d even set an alarm for whatever bedtime was for the other across the world. Just so you could send a little message or voice not saying goodnight. Was it cringey? Yes. Did either of you care? No.

But since you’d been away all the evening wishes were absent from you. Which hurt Tom more than you may ever know.

“I know you’re still angry but will you please come home to me? I need you to be the last thing I hear at night and the first thing in the morning.”

would love to hear any feedback <333 (but think this is a bit of a shitter so im sorry!!!)

tagging: @lovehollandy12 @pandaxnienke @thegirlwiththeimpala @msmimimerton @hollandfanficlove @hollandlover19 @hunnybunimdun @crossyourpeter @thefernandasantana@hallecarey1

#tom holland x you #tom holland angst #tom holland x y/n #tomholland #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #harry holland

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teddy06writes · 4 years ago

Note

Platonic ranboo x enderman/human hybrid reader, two bros bonding over being half enderman

platonic! ranboo x enderman hybrid!reader

trigger warnings: none

premise: one day while wandering the forest you stumble into Philza, who upon seeing you immediately decides you need to meet Ranboo, and takes you back to the AAC to meet him

{also my basic thinking for an enderman hybrid would be: also bad at eye contact like Ranboo, (wears goggles to combat this?), can teleport but only small distances usally does acidently when startled, purple enderman like eyes, has the same silk touch thing as ranboo but like, half, so it only applies to certain things, also water doesn’t bother them as much, its like a minor inconvenience}

{also I know Edward is dead now, just let me have this}

“blep” talking

“Blep” Ender speak

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

You hummed quietly to yourself, watching the fat snowflakes drift through the sky as you moved through the forest.

Shivering you tugged at your overcoat, peering around to try and find more berry bushes, Enderpearl, your arctic fox, following along, hoping you would find more food.

A few minutes later you found another bush, quickly stooping to fill as much inventory as you could with the berries, ears seeming to prick up at the sound of someone walking through the snow.

Standing up fully you adjusted your tinted goggles, looking around to try and find the source of the noise, still shivering at the cold.

“Are you alright mate?”

You jumped, purple particles surrounded you as you teleported a few yards away in surprise.

“Woah! How did you do that?”

You turned to see a blond avian hybrid, dressed mostly in green, “Oh- uh- h- hello.”

“How’d you do that?” He repeated, still looking a bit in shock.

“Why?” You asked, quickly defensive, you may have been a good 9 inches taller than him, but you weren’t too keen on fighting him.

“Oh- hey- hey, it’s alright mate, I just meant it was cool,” He held up his hands, as if to say he meant no harm, “Are you a hybrid too?”

Slowly you nodded, Enderpearl quickly running over to you, and you quickly scooped her up, holding her close to your body, still trying to keep the both of you warm.

“I’m Phil.” He offered, smiling.

“(y/n).” You were nearly stuttering from the cold.

“Are you cold (y/n)? You don’t seem very prepared for the climate.” Phil observed.

You nodded, “Enderpearl and me, we normally don’t come out this far, but Enderpearl likes berries and they only grow here.”

Phil nodded, “Are you an Enderman hybrid, by chance?”

“Y- yeah.” You said, reaching up and adjusting your goggles again.

“hmm, I know another enderman hybrid. You seem very cold (y/n), I don’t live to far from here, if you’d like to come warm up. It’s not very safe for you to stay out here.”

You bit your lip, wary, but looking down at Enderpearl, who was trying to curl further into your jacket, you didn’t want her to be cold, “Uh, sure, I guess.”

Phil nodded, turning and motioning for you to follow him, “Come on, You can meet Ranboo.”

“Ranboo?” You questioned, following him through the snow.

“He’s the other Enderman hybrid I know- well, part enderman part something,” Phil explained, “But that parts not important, I don’t think he can teleport but other than that he seems a lot like you.

“I’ve never met someone like me before.” You mumbled.

Phil smiled sadly, “I think that's the case for a lot of hybrids. Come on, it’s just past this clearing.”

A few moments later, as you emerged from the clearing, a rather large cottage came into view, smoke rising steadily from the chimney.

Phil gestured to the small building beside it, “That's where Techno keeps the hound army, Ranboo normally lives in a house he built just past it, but it’s far too cold for me to let him stay out there.”

You nodded, still looking around in slight awe as you followed Phil up the front steps.

“Tech!” Phil called, swinging the door open, “I’m home! I brought company!”

There was no response, and the man sighed, stamping snow off his boots and motioning for you to come all the way into the room, “There probably downstairs messing with the villagers. You can sit by the fire to warm up, I’ll go get them.”

You nodded as he went to climb down the ladder attached to one wall, slowly moving over to the fire and sitting down, Enderpearl on your lap.

“Young one.”

You jumped at the voice, turning to see an Enderman sitting in a boat in the corner of the room, “Oh- uh, hello. Are you- Are you Ranboo?”

The enderman shook his head, warbling, “I am Edward. Take off your coat child, it is far too wet to do anything but dry.”

“I’m (y/n).” You said, quickly shrugging out of your jacket.

~~ “You found another kid?” Techno crossed his arms, “Phil you’ve gotta stop bringing home strays.”

“Techno you can’t even say that, you’re the original stray.” Phil argued.

“He just doesn’t want to be replaced,” Ranboo quipped quietly, pausing to look up from sorting through a chest, “Wait- does that mean I’m a stray?”

Phil chuckled, “Yeah, it does.”

Technoblade groaned, “Phil you can’t just keep bringing kids into my house!”

“Well at least come meet them before you throw them out?” Phil asked, “And let me find them a better jacket. Its too cold for them out there.”

Ranboo watched as they had a silent staring contest, a silent discussion passing between them, until eventually Technoblade relented, grumbling something incoherent.

“Well come on then.” Phil said, motioning to the ladder.

Ranboo stood up, already starting to climb as Techno said, “I hope I don’t regret letting you do this Phil.”

“You won’t.”

Phil’s voice was partially drown out as Ranboo reached the main floor, his ears now filled with the sounds of warbled enderspeak.

He turned to see Edward deep in conversation with someone sitting hunched in front of the fire.

“You speak end?” He asked cautiously, almost hearing Phil chuckling from below.

The person jumped, purple particles flying around there head for a moment before they were gone, reappearing across the room, now next to Edwards boat.

Edward made a noise close to a chuckle, reaching one long arm out of his boat to grab your shoulder to stop your trembling, “That one is Ranboo.”

You nodded slowly, as Ranboo seemed to study you, “Your an enderman hybrid. That's so cool! I’m an enderman hybrid too! I can’t teleport though- its really cool that you can!”

You pushed your goggles up a bit from where they had slipped in the teleport, “Your eyes- why is that one red?”

“Oh- I- we think its whatever my other half is. Are your eyes green too?”

You shook your head, “Purple. How’d you mean you can’t teleport?”

“Haven’t figured it out yet- who taught you?”

You shrugged, “Just kinda knew. I usually only do it when I’m scared though.”

“Maybe you could teach me?” He asked excitedly.

Smiling you nodded, “Sure.”

It was a while later, after the snow had stopped falling, and the sun had partially come out, you and Ranboo headed outside (not before Phil supplied you with a thicker coat), to try and teach him how to teleport.

Phil turned to Techno, who was watching from the window as you and Ranboo were running around laughing, trying to figure out the best way to teach him, “I know what you said about endermen in the house but we could help them with a different house, or they could stay with Ranboo proper-”

“They aren’t staying in the house,” The piglin interrupted, “Well- maybe when its cold- but other than that- not in the house.”

Phil smiled, “I knew you’d come around.”

Technoblade huffed, “I mean it’s probably safer for them here. Besides the kid needs someone like him besides Edward around here.”

The enderman in the corner nodded, also observing you and Ranboo from out the window.

Phil nodded, “Sure, sure.”

Outside you laughed again, “No! Not like that! You’ve gotta feel where you are, and where your gonna be and then just...” You trailed off, particles flying around your head again as you disappeared only to pop out on his other side.

“Okay okay, I think I get it.”

Ranboo squeezed his eyes shut, trying to do what you’d said.

You watched as the faintest of particles began to appear around his head, growing stronger- stronger- and then he fell face first into the snow.

“I don’t think this is working.” His response was muffled by the snow.

“Just a bit,” You said helping him up, “Here, hold onto me, and I’ll teleport. That normally works with Enderpearl.”

He nodded, grabbing onto your coat sleeve.

You concentrated, focusing on a spot on top of the dog house, slowly particles filled the air and then- pop! you were both standing on top of the house.

“Woah!” Ranboo exclaimed, looking around, laughing, “That felt weird!”

You nodded laughing, “Now try to teleport off the roof.”

After a while longer of failed attempts, and after being side tracked by Ranboo’s ability to move more than just dirt blocks, the sun began to set, and you headed back inside, still laughing as he recounted the time that he and Techno had spent a whole day wander around collecting spawners.

Sometime later, after dinner, both you and Ranboo had ended up sitting next to Edwards boat, the three of your quietly talking as you started the drift off, Enderpearl back in her spot on your lap.

Phil chuckled, looking over at the three endermen crowded around the boat, two mostly asleep.

Edward looked at him, noding once and warbling out something Techno couldn’t understand, “What’d ‘e say?”

Phil smiled, “Family.”

#mcyt x reader #ranboo x reader #platonic ranboo x reader #teddy06 writes

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spenciebabie · 4 years ago

Note

Can you do a blurb where it’s prof!reid and readers had sex before but not experienced enough,so then he teaches her how to ride him in his classroom!

It’s a long one folks! And here’s some visuals, here and here

He waits until long after the building has cleared out. He’s usually the one that stays the latest and locks up anyway so it hardly looks suspicious. And no one has to know that you were staying late too. You’d been doing this whole thing in secret for a while now, and as much as you didn’t want to be cliche and admit it, the sneaking around was what made the whole thing such a turn on.

You’d had sex in his office a few times, in his apartment once or twice, but nothing had ever really happened in his classroom. But that was the very place that your courtship began, the stolen glances, the short post-class tension-filled conversations, until one day you both caved and shared a kiss after the class had cleared out. It felt only right to have sex in this classroom at least once.

So when Spencer asked you to drop by the room around 10pm on a Tuesday you had some idea why. He locked the door after you and pulled you into a rough kiss immediately, hands roaming all over your body over your coat. When he finally gave you the space to pull back you were both panting already.

“Fuck, I’ve just been thinking about that all day, I missed you” he smiles and you can’t help but smile back as you unbutton your coat.

You missed the days when you were his student last semester, when you were both so coy about your affections. Back then you used to wear things just to see if you could catch his attention. So you decided to put together an outfit for the occasion. As you slowly unbutton your coat and shrug it off your shoulders Spencer’s breath catches in his throat.

You’re standing in front of him in the shortest white pleated skirt, the soft skin of your thighs distracting him so much that he barely notices the little blouse you’ve got on and the way it strains against your chest.

“If you didn’t ask me out when you did I probably would’ve shown up to class dressed like this” you smirk, but he just looks lost for words.

“Desk- I uh, I cleaned off my desk” he blurts out momentarily stunned.

“And why did you go and do that?” you tease, wandering over towards the huge hardwood desk at the front of the room, hopping up onto it so your legs dangle off the side. When Spencer doesn’t move to join you, you make a point of opening your legs, spreading them wide in an invitation. And that catches his attention as he races over to you, standing against the desk, nestled between your thighs.

“You know I used to think about this every night” He whispers, leaning in close to your ear. “I used to picture what it would be like if I just stopped messing around and fucked you. If I held you back after class one day and just fucked you against the side of this desk”

As he speaks his hands trail along the side of your body, moving all the way down until they pass the hemline of your skirt. And then they begin to slowly sneak under the fabric and your breath catches. Once his fingers settle between your legs and he finds no fabric in his way, he grows confident again.

“I thought you might be that kind of girl, you always did wear these fucking skirts just to tease me, crossing and uncrossing your legs just to get to me. I always wondered what you wore under them” he groans as his fingers move delicately against your wet folds.

“Can I tell you a secret?” you gasp as his fingertip brushes right up against your clit, and he nods, “Some days, when I could tell you were flushed- ah- and hard because of me, I’d- fuck- I’d go right to the bathroom after class, and I’d touch myself”

��I knew you were no angel, walking in here in your cute little outfits like you were such an innocent little thing” he growls, pulling his fingers back and leaving you wanting.

“M’sorry, I’m a good girl, I promise. You just make me so- I don’t know...” you look up at him with pleading eyes.

“Are you a good girl, really? Tell me something you haven’t done?” He says as he looks you up and down, taking a step back to watch you think, your legs still swinging off the side of the table.

“You can’t laugh at me” you say, a little nervous, looking anywhere but at Spencer as you speak, “I’ve never been... on top”

His hand reaches out to caress the side of your face, tilting it up so that you can see the softness in his eyes.

“Is that something you want to do baby, do you want to ride me?”

With no hesitation your head is bobbing up and down in eager agreement, “Please, Sir?”

In what feels like no time at all Spencer’s laying down on his desk wearing nothing but his shirt, opened in a rush but not fully removed. And he’s signaling for you to join him on the desk.

“Should I take off my clothes?” you ask, toying with the buttons of your blouse.

“Everything but the skirt, I gotta fuck you in that thing at least once” so you follow his instructions and you’re climbing up onto the desk a moment later, throwing one leg over Spencer’s hip to kneel over him.

“That’s a good girl” he says, his hands reaching up to hold onto your waist. “If you reach down and grab by cock, it’ll be easier for you to line it up, okay sweetheart?” he encourages, and you nod.

Trailing one hand down you use it to lift up the front of your skirt so that he can see what you’re doing, and with the other hand you gently grab his cock and line it up between your legs. Working on instinct you guide the head of it between your folds first and it glides through the wetness, nudging against your sensitive clit on each pass. When you feel ready you place the head at your entrance and slowly lower yourself down along the length.

“Fuckkkk” Spencer lets out in a rough groan, “You feel so fucking good like this, so tight and warm”

The praise alone has you excited and eager to do a good job. Staying still for a moment, getting used the full feeling, and then clenching around him, forcing a moan from deep in his throat.

“Oh god, do that again” he moans, his hands digging in to the sides of your waist as he speaks, and so you do, and this time his eyes roll back in his head just a little. “Your pussy is perfect sweetheart”

“Should I- Do you want me to move now?” you ask, biting your lip and watching his blissed out expression.

“If you’re ready? I want you to start moving your hips up and down, you can go as fast or as slow as you want, okay?”

“Okay Sir” you respond and you start to move, using your thighs to rock up and down steadily along his length. It takes a little time and concentration but eventually you find just the right angle to move your hips so that his cock hits the right spot on each thrust.

“Oh fuck- Spence- it feels-” you mumble out, having next to no idea what you’re trying to say.

“You’re doing such a good job baby, do you think you can go any faster?” he moans, strong hands guiding you as best as he can. But you just let out a little whimper at his request.

“I don’t know, I’m close but- my legs-” you start but he shakes his head.

“Don’t worry baby, I’ve got you” he coos.

Then he changes his position slightly, bending his legs so his feet are flat behind you, his hands holding roughly onto your hips now to keep you still. And then he starts to fuck up into you, harsh and fast, and deeper than you thought possible from this angle.

The feeling is so intense that you can barely keep yourself upright anymore, your hands falling down to rest against Spencer’s chest in an effort not to collapse onto it completely.

“Do you like that baby? Are you gonna cum all over my cock?” he groans, his eyes locked on yours as his hips continue to pump up and down, filling the classroom with such filthy sounds.

“Fuck, Spencer- I’m- feels so fucking good” you moan as you reach your climax, finally losing all strength and collapsing against Spencer’s flushed chest as he pumps only two or three more times and he’s there too. Filling you up completely, as his hips slow down to a stop.

Once both of your breathing has steadied, and you can lift yourself up off Spencer’s sweaty body, he’s looking up at you with pure adoration.

“You did so good baby” he smiles, his hands reaching up to brush against your warm cheek.

“I don’t think I was that good, I got so tired so fast”

He shakes his head with a small laugh, “That’s just because you need more practice baby”

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #professor!spencer #professor!spencer x reader #mgg smut #mgg x reader #mgg imagine #Matthew gray gubler smut #Matthew gray gubler imagine #matthew gray gubler x reader #blurb #blurbs #imagine #imagines #anon #answered

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moxfirefly · 4 years ago

Note

Can i get a breeding kink prompt With mikey please? 👉👈

👁👄👁 I am-

Listen, do not get me started on this...

Okay here we gooooo

Rated Explicit (18+ only)

Michelangelo had everything down to a science, which he always found hilarious since he wasn’t the science guy here. But ironic joke aside, he truly did have it all thought out to the point of near perfection.

Because Spring sucks.

Spring is annoying.

Everyone’s in a mood, everyone is in a state of perpetual chest pumping and nothing gets done. Mikey had long since learned that skating the excessive energy out of his system worked fabolously, combine that with some much needed alone time with a skin magazine or video and he could call it a night.

Spring is so annoying.

With you though, he had glossed over in a vague matter that maybe it would be best for you to hang back for a few days. Naturally that was odd, Mikey sometimes wanted to glue you to his shell if he could. A quick look of the calendar filled in the blanks, mutterings about approaching Spring Fever as they had named it were ongoing on the nights you’d been there. Mikey was being courteous, nay he was being shy at the very least.

Curiosity on your end though, would be your undoing.

So you packed your overnight bag with the essentials . He was probably overselling this whole Heat issue, it wasn’t like Mikey’s libido was at a soft two even on a bad day. That man could watch you shaver your legs with a full on mud mask on your face and still pop a boner. Naturally though you maybe should’ve listened

but your feet were already taking to the nearest Lair entrance.

Mikey felt antsy , even after spending three hours on his board. He even took out his old normal board to practice basic tricks on it, he’d played video games for an hour, thought about you for another hour and still his skin felt electric. The air in the Lair tonight was about the same, everyone was locked away to avoid unnecessary fighting. He figured he’d shower, think about you once again and retreat back to his room.

He felt a little better after the hot shower, he’d even found that you had left one of those sweet smelling body gels. That had significantly distracted him and now he couldn’t stop smelling himself, for he smelled like you. In his trance he neglected to perhaps notice that your scent had picked up a little more but he figured it was himself.

He nudged the curtain aside that led to his room (Raph had moved out a few months back) and tossed his towel somewhere in the chaos.

Then he saw you there, on his bed, flipping away on some random magazine he had lying around looking like a dream. Mikey froze on the spot, you looked up and smiled.

“So what’s the big deal? Aside from how funeral like quiet everything is around, has anybody sprouted a third arm?” You joked whilst setting the magazine aside, you sat up and assessed him. He was freshly showered, smelling of your favorite shower gel and wearing nothing but his boxer briefs.

For Mikey though, his literal reptile brain was only making him notice how gorgeous you looked in nothing but some stay at home shorts and a flimsy oversized crop top. Naturally you had settled into your relaxed attire once here, most of the time it consisted of things Mikey either outgrew or didn’t use anymore. He approached, tentatively.

“No third arms dude, just you know; tension in the air” He chuckled and so did you, you couldn’t help but notice how fixated his gaze was. He looked at every little detail of yours more intently, enjoying it even more. Mikey reached out and ran his knuckles across your chin. You kept your smile, sneaking down to press a soft kiss on his wrist. “What’ya been up to then?” You not so innocently asked as he started playing with your hair.

Mikey’s mind was too clouded, it had been clouded all day with scandalous thoughts of you. Even now as you sat in front him, the picture of sweetness and loveliness all he wanted was to consume himself in you. “Thinking of you” He answered distracted by ideas of pulling your hair, watching your mouth open in a gasp, body shaking with pleasure.

Maybe spring didn’t have to be so annoying...

“Well I’m here now, you should’ve just said so” You liked how concentrated he seemed, fascinated with your hair or with caressing your cheek. You also didn’t mind that he was barely dressed, all strong legs and thin waist for display. You wondered just how badly he was fighting to not make his arousal so evident.

Then his hand retreated and he got down on both knees. His hands rested on your knees and you swore his pupils were blown out already, you pressed your legs tightly together.

“I can smell it, don’t hide it”

That sentence shook you. Your face flushed at his words but it only served for another shot of heat to pool beneath you. Mikey seemed so different, that cheery flirtatious nature of his wasn’t all quite there and you couldn’t help but wonder what lay in store for you.

He hooked his fingers in your shorts and pulled them down slowly, his excited energy was there but more zeroed in on the task at hand. You let him take them off for you, soon your underwear as well, his firm but gentle hand nudged you backwards. You laid down, breathing anticipation and exhaling desire when you felt those strong hands of his spread you.

“You smell so fucking good” Any and all rational thought had exited. All he wanted was to taste you, fuck you and claim you as his. He bit the inside of your thigh, enjoying the muscle tremble. When you felt a string of spit on your core and that wet warm tongue flick up your slit, you bit down on your lip. Mikey was never controlled, especially in this activity, he went at it like it was his last meal. But this honed in method left you shakey and needy.

He wanted you shakey and needy.

Thus he did the same, licking and sucking slowly, calculatedly. You looked down, his meticulous attacks making you squeeze your legs against his head. That brought a lengthy groan out of him, his hands gripped your thighs more and his movements picked up a little more in forcefulness. Soon enough he had you teetering on the precipice, close and closer and each second you swore he’d give it he took it back. You whined frustratedly, hand smacking down on the bed. Your heated gaze found Mikey’s, mouth wet with your essence, pupils still so blown you could barely make out his baby blues. He sucked a finger into his mouth and found your opening, your eyes rolled back into your head.

“You’re so damn wet, like you always get this wet whenever I eat you out” He was knuckle deep, making you crossed eyed as he found your spot and thrusted. “I wish you could feel what I feel when I slide into this pussy” He angled his finger, loving how you bit down hard to muffle a moan. His thumb found your clit and you nearly sobbed. “Fuck you’re so good, you’re all mine aren’t you? This...” He made a come hither motion with said digit. “This all mine?” He asked, rubbing slow circles on your clit.

You nodded vigorously, anything for him to just apply a little more pleasure to hit that spot with just a little more force.

Then Mikey was pulling out his finger and sucking the digit clean.

Yet another frustrated sound left you and you swore he smirked. When he got up, you bit your lip. He was fully hard, leaking and staining the front of his underwear. Good, served him right for the torturing. You made do of your shirt, not missing the hungry look when he saw you were bare beneath the shirt. Opting for some retaliation you fondled them, pinching and kneading. Mikey’s eyes followed them as he kicked off his underwear.

When he gripped your waist you figured he was going to climb on you.

You didn’t expect him to quite literally turn you around and manuveour you onto all fours.

This wasn’t an usual pose for Mikey, it’s not to say he didn’t indulge in it but he preferred to watch you ride him or to be so sweetly spooned against you. This felt, primal. He still seemed unsatisfied that he couldn’t watch you, so he improvised.

Once again wrapping an strong forearm around your waist he took you towards a small dresser that had a mirror. Your wide eyes were comical at this point, this was so unlike him and yet you found yourself so insanely turned on by it. He nudged your legs apart with his foot, hand on your lower back he guided himself in with his other.

That initial burn would never stop being your favorite and Mikey had full view of your eyes leaving their sockets. That gravely churr startled you, his usually didnt run that deep more along the lines of a pleasant purr. You clenched around him and his mouth hung open. That very sensation was something he could dream about awake. He had that feeling committed to memory, often times trying to replicate it with his hand whenever he missed you.

“Jesus fucking hell, Mike please move” You rested on your forearms, trying to move back against him but he held a firm hand on your lower back denying it. He remained quiet, you whined. “Please babe, please I want it so bad” Your eyes drifted to the mirror catchi. Mikey’s heated gaze and grin, he was definitely eating this display up.

He leaned over you, mouth close to your ear. “If... if I start I’m gonna keep going until you’re filled up with my cum” He tested his words by starting to move, hands gripping your waist tightly. The relief that washed over you was immediate, this angle was always a weak point for you so you knew lasting would be difficult.

Then Mikey slammed into you with enough force to rattle the dresser and it’s contents. Your mouth opened in a silent gasp, you watched how consumed he was feeling you. “Oh fuck Mikey, that’s so good” You felt him pulse inside of you, always one for praises this one.

“You’re gonna take it for me? Mhm?” He thrusted hard, demanding. You threw your head back, a blissed out grin breaking out on your face. “God yes, all of it baby, fill me up” You moaned, more so when he wrapped his arm across you chest and held you against his hard plastron. “Yes you are, you’re gonna take it all, every last drop” He shoved his finger into your mouth, pace quickening, churring nonestop.

He continued his words, each one making you hotter, the two of you were going to be a blushing mess after this. “Gonna fill you up, knock you up” He grunted against your ear, the angle was slightly uncomfortable but you were too lost in the lust to bother. You nodded trying to say ‘yes yes yes’ with his thick digit in your mouth.

Mikey felt you tighten so suffocatingly hard that you bit down pretty hard on his finger. He took it out just as you started to scream with your pent up release. “That’s my giiiirl” He groaned against you, slamming two more times before spilling himself in you. It felt never ending, each spurt deep within, Mikey’s short hard thrust making you slump forward in his arms. “Fu-uck Mike” Your voice shook, legs trembled as he emptied himself inside of you. He remained there, buried so far in, loving the mixture of his mess and yours.

Mikey bit down on your shoulder, hips starting to move again, his member twitching back to life. Your eyes shot open, watching him through the mirror. He kept you against him, this time by gripping both your breast.

His previous statement swam inside your foggy brain.

‘If I start, I’m not gonna stop...’

Spring was officially your favorite season.

#tmnt bayverse #tmnt mikey x reader #tmnt michelangelo x female reader #michelangelo tmnt #tmnt michelangelo x reader #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt mikey #michelangelo x reader #mikey x reader #ns*w #ask #beetle bab #smut prompt

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spaceskam · 3 years ago

Text

woke me up from the longest dream

Summary: Alex and Michael follow up on a lead and find something powerful.

Tags: canon compliant (for the most part), visions, road trips, my deep sky still sucks agenda

ao3

"Why is it so fucking cold?"

"Welcome to Montana," Alex said dryly.

Michael made a face and shoved his hands in his pockets. He was doing his best to be mature about Alex inviting him on this trip. It was another loose lead he found and he was irritated that he didn't find it until after he came back home. Michael had offered to help after a grueling time in self-induced misery and Alex had agreed and he had planned to use this time to show Alex how much he'd grown.

However, there was something about being alone with Alex that made him feel a little like he hadn’t.

"Are you not cold?"

"Didn't we deduce that your species is from a really cold planet due to your body temperature and the clothing Tripp described they were wearing?" Alex asked back.

Michael was used to a vaguely snarky Alex, it was in his genetic makeup. This was a different level though. Alex was in one of the worst moods Michael had ever seen him in that didn't result in a fight, instead it was all icy silence and irritated answers. Michael wasn't sure if it was because of his breakup with Forrest or if it was something else entirely. Maybe it was the fact that Michael was here at all.

He decided to keep quiet.

"You got me," Michael said, taking slightly bigger strides to keep up with Alex.

They were in a small town that served as a hub for a few even smaller towns that surrounded it. It had one small stretch of road with all the local businesses in it, a shabby hotel, a diner, and a farmer's market being the three biggest options. There were a couple others buildings, but Michael couldn't say what they were by just looking at them from the outside.

Alex seemed to know where he was headed though and he waltzed up to a building that was only identifiable by a sign that was meant to say CORRIE'S but was missing a few letters and said CORE instead. He pushed the door open and Michael followed. The inside had the heater blasting in a way that immediately smothered him, but he managed to keep his face even. It looked like a convenience store with only three rows of shelves in the middle. A sign at the back door read GAS PUMP IN BACK. Michael thought that was bad advertising.

"Hello," an older woman at the counter greeted. She seemed to be the only one here.

"Hey," Alex said, approaching her and turning on an easy smile. Logically Michael just knew he was being charming to get what he came here for. Illogically, it felt like Alex could be nice to everyone but him.

How many times could he tell himself to grow up?

"What can I help you two with?" she asked.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but this place is owned by someone who used to live in Fort Belknap?" Alex said, not even beating around the bush to charm her more. That was the only thing to convince him it wasn't just him.

The woman stared at him, face unchanging.

"Who's asking?"

"Holt," Alex said, smiling and tilting his head a little bit, "Carla Holt, to be more specific."

She breathed in and closed her eyes for a moment before opening them a few moments later.

"Their timing has always been impeccable," she said, gesturing towards a door behind her, "Come."

"Who's Carla Holt?" Michael whispered to him as they followed. Alex grabbed his arm and squeezed, nearly causing Michael to fully trip over air.

"Just follow my lead. Stay quiet," Alex explained quietly, "I'll tell you later."

And Michael did as he said.

"You must be the littlest Manes boy," the woman said as she led them into a little office. It was cluttered and didn't really seem like the top secret place Michael was imagining.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Corrie," she corrected, "I never did like the sound of ma'am."

"Alright," Alex said, laughing lightly even though didn't reach his eyes, "My mother told me the same thing."

"I bet so," Corrie said, digging through messy drawers of a desk. She sat down heavily into the beat up chair and started digging through a file cabinet. "I kept telling myself it'll eventually come and bite me in the ass, carrying secrets for someone I only hear from once every few years, but you never know what you're getting yourself into until after you're stuck."

"Yeah, I know how that feels," Alex sighed. Michael's eyes drifted to him. He avoided eye contact completely.

"I'll be honest, I wasn't expecting you. Your brother, maybe. Part of me expected your father to bust down my door more than anyone," she went on. Corrie pulled out a small box and opened it, looking in and making a face before closing it and tossing it over her shoulder.

"Guess I'm the sucker who agreed to clean up duty."

Corrie laughed.

Truly, Michael expected more danger and more difficulty. He expected a fight or at least tension. Instead, Alex and Corrie made small talk about their shitty affiliations while Corrie dug through decades worth of clutter. Eventually, she pulled out a box and opened it and took a deep breath. She closed it again before giving it to Alex and Alex didn't reopen it so Michael had no idea what was in it. All he knew was that it went into Alex's bag.

"Thank you "

"Keep it safe," Corrie said, "Keep yourself safe." Then for the first time her eyes drifted to Michael. "You too. There aren't many of you left."

It was hot in the building, but somehow Michael felt like he'd jumped in ice water.

"Thank you."

"Mhm. Now get the hell out of my store before somebody follows you."

"Of course. Thank you again," Alex said politely and then he did as she said, turning on his heel and walking away. Michael wanted to stay and ask more–if she knew what he was, maybe she knew things he didn't and they could get rid of Mr. Jones–but Michael simply followed Alex's lead.

"Alex," Michael said, nearly having to jog to keep up. Alex opened the door of the store and a blast of cold hit Michael in the face, colder than before due to the extreme warmth inside. It took him a moment to reboot his mind enough to finish what he was saying. "Alex, what's in the box?"

Alex managed to close his eyes and shake his head in disapproval without slowing his pace.

"Can you wait until we get to the hotel?" Alex asked, cold again. Michael nodded despite the fact Alex couldn't see him, deciding that a verbal answer probably would be annoying in itself.

The problem with silence was that it was a sure way to get Michael to spiral. He had discovered very recently that being alone when he wanted to be alone the most was the worst idea. Now, he didn't want to be alone as much as he wanted answers. Walking in silence down a street while wondering what was in Alex's bag, who Carla Holt was, why Alex was angry, etc, etc, etc, was only making his mind race.

By the time they stepped into the lobby of the hotel, Michael was sure that Alex had just borrowed a bomb from an old lady and he was going to explode himself and whoever Carla Holt was was going to hunt Michael down in revenge. He of course didn't say that. Instead, he tapped his foot as Alex requested a room with two queens and didn't realized that the worker snorted because he was assuming they were two queens until after they were already heading to the room.

"Should I go spit in his drink?" Michael asked when he realized.

"No," Alex said, "You'd probably make it taste too sweet."

Michael again found himself stumbling over nothing and he looked at Alex, wondering what the hell was he talking about. But it was the nicest thing he'd said to him the whole trip and Michael decided to take it very personally.

"You sayin' I'm sweet?" Michael asked, grinning. A smile pulled at Alex's mouth that he very quickly schooled, slowing as he came to their room.

"I'm saying your saliva, and probably your other bodily fluids, have a higher concentration of a glucose-like chemical," Alex said, "As proved by Kyle and Liz when we got drunk."

"You guys drunkenly tested our saliva's glucose levels?" Michael asked, laughing a little. Alex finally speaking to him made his brain stop wandering as much. Not completely–he was still wondering about that box–but enough.

"We were talking," Alex said, unlocking the door with the keycard, "And noticed we all thought you three tasted sweeter than other people we'd kissed and, well, you know. So we did some tests."

"That's... Interesting," Michael said, letting the door close behind them.

Alex walked over to the bed closest to the door and carefully sat his bag down. Michael watched him, staying near the door. He was still unsure about where they stood. He knew Alex cared about him and he knew Alex didn't hate him, but he was also still holding him at arm's length. And then there was that box. He didn't want to push.

But Michael wasn't known for his patience.

"Alex," Michael said, "What's in that box?"

Alex swallowed and looked up at him for a moment before patting the bed beside him. An invitation. One that made Michael's stomach drop and twist in 11 knots. But he walked closer, sitting beside Alex. Alex stared at him, his features slowly loosening up to betray his feelings. His eyebrows pulled together in that kind of worry that meant he felt like he was drowning, scrambling to pull himself to the surface and never able to get a good grip. Which would explain the coldness, he supposed.

"You know you can trust me, right? I'm... I'm working on not being so self-destructive, and, like, knowing I'm helping you out kinda helps when I feel shitty," Michael said. Alex huffed a small laugh and shook his head, dropping his chin to his chest for a moment. When he looked Michael in the eye again, he was back to being serious.

"I did something stupid," Alex said, softly like it was a secret, "I agreed to something without knowing what I was getting myself into. And I'm kind of stuck right now."

"Stuck? What do you mean stuck?" Michael said, following his lead and whispering.

"I'm figuring it out, alright? Don't worry. I'll tell you later," Alex said, reaching out to squeeze his arm before dropping it back to the bed, "And I checked before we even left that I wasn't bugged and I've kept my eye out to know that we aren't being followed. And my computer definitely isn't. We're good. They're tracking me, but only to the extent I'm letting them. It's okay."

"That doesn't sound okay," Michael said.

"Trust me like I trust you, alright?" He said. Michael reluctantly nodded. "I need you to hold something for me."

Michael blinked. "The box."

"Yeah."

"Who's Carla Holt?" Michael asked. Alex smiled softly

"It's not a who, it's a what. It's a code from my mom's side of things. She knows more about the alien shit than she let on," Alex sighed, "I didn't stand a fucking chance not being involved with this shit. My dad, my mom, you. So, you know, if you ever feel bad about that, it's my fucking destiny."

Michael swallowed and nodded, feeling more eager by the second to know what was in that box. Needed to keep hearing Alex say how fated they were to know each other. Needed Alex to touch his arm again and smile.

"Okay," Michael said, trying to stay in his own space, "So we're fated. Cosmic connection. Called it."

Alex broke into a wide smile, genuine and welcoming as he shoved Michael's shoulder gently. "Shut up."

"Show me," Michael said instead. Alex's smile faded just a little.

"Do me a favor and double check our surroundings," Alex said. Michael nodded and tilted his head, sending a chair to lodge itself under the doorknob and pressed the curtains tightly to the wall. His eyes slid closed as he did a mental sweep of the building, not noticing anything out of order. When he opened his eyes again, Alex seemed to be closer. "Thanks."

"Show me."

Alex sighed and nodded, hesitantly reaching into his bag and pulling out the box. It was clear now that it was made of really nice wood, intricate carvings covering it. Alex handled it with an extreme care that Corrie didn't have with it. His eyes flickered between the box and Michael a few dozen times before he hesitantly opened it and Michael leaned closer to see.

"It's just a ring," Michael said, almost disappointed. It looked like a normal, silver band that was old and unpolished after years of being tucked away.

"Not just a ring," Alex said, he kept his fingers very precise as he picked it up. Michael didn't miss the way it seemed to ripple at his touch.

"Something alien," Michael acknowledged.

"Something alien," Alex confirmed, "Most of the glass and even the rocks that you've had so far all seem to be crafted and at least heavily altered by your people to be as useful as they are. This... This was passed down as a pure substance that was mined and cut into a wedding band to mimic human customs." Alex looked at him. "It pre-dates your mother landing here, Michael."

Michael let out a shaky breath, eager and hungry for knowledge for the first time in a long time. He'd poured over Tripp's journal over and over, poured over Caulfield and Project Shepard records, all of it painful and sickening with an unhappy ending. And now there was something new– old –that might actually give him something more. Proof that aliens were here before his mother, proof that there was a reason they came to Earth of all places. More secrets he craved to uncover. He missed the feeling.

"It's powerful and, as far as I can tell, the last of it left. The rest was probably destroyed with your planet. But it's old and... and sentimental. One of the older women on the reservation told me the sentimentality powered it more. Because it's not just a ring that symbolizes love or a bond between two people, but it's a new start. Blending the past they chose to leave behind together with something new and different. Safer and secure. Together," Alex said. Michael swallowed, eyes unable to break away from Alex's. Alex cleared his throat and looked back down at it. "That's what she said anyway. There was probably two at one point, but I'm sure the other is lost to time."

"Yeah, okay. Okay," Michael said, agreeing without hesitation, "I'll take care of it and keep it safe."

He went to grab it, but Alex pulled it out of his reach.

"Michael," he said, "When I say it's powerful, I mean the moment you put it on, something's going to… happen."

Michael hadn't really intended to put it on, but it seemed Alex knew him well enough to know that eventually he would.

"What kind of something?"

"I don't know, Michael. I just know legend says it has unspeakable levels of power. So, please, be careful with it. I'd prefer you do it with someone around in case it overloads you or something," Alex said. Michael didn't point out what Isobel had before–he was the only one who didn't have a limit.

"Why not just put it on right now?" Michael said, "We're in the clear and you're here. Why not?"

Alex breathed in and out, staring at him with that same worried, downing look. Michael selfishly enjoyed it for a few moments–enjoying that he cared that much. So he smirked and held out his left hand, feeling confident.

"Go ahead, Alex. Put a ring on it," he said. A smile pulled at Alex's lips that he fought, but he relaxed his shoulders and grabbed Michael's hand with his empty one.

Alex's hand was warm. Michael was sort of obsessed with the feeling of it. Why hadn't they been holding hands this entire time?

"I'm right here, okay? So if you need me to take it off or if you feel like you're going to lose control, let me know. Try not to throw me," Alex said. Michael rolled his eyes.

"I don't give a shit how much power I have injected into me, I'm not going to hurt you," Michael said. Alex raised an eyebrow. "Physically. Come on now, cut me some slack."

"Maybe," Alex said, putting the ring closer. Michael could feel it now that it was millimeters away from his skin, the power of it overwhelming. And Michael was intrigued. "Ready?"

"Always."

Alex slid the ring onto his ring finger.

The wave of power hit him instantly and, before he could adjust, sent him into a mindscape. Or–he thought it was. The room was damp and dark, unwelcoming. Michael looked around for something, someone, but he was alone. It was crowded with things, though, inventions and technological structures. It looked like his own lair but significantly less familiar, less comforting.

“Michael?”

Michael turned towards the voice and saw Alex at the top of a ladder, staring down at him with a face that said he was doing everything to stay calm. He had red stains on his clothes. Michael stared at him, unsure what to do. Alex was down the ladder and centimeters away from him so quickly that it could only be achieved by him seeing something that wasn’t happening just yet.

“Are you okay?” Alex asked, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Michael said, instinctually, “Where are we? What is this place?”

Alex looked around the room, his face betraying his pain before he met Michael’s eyes again. Then his hand was on Michael’s cheek with a warm and grounding presence. Michael’s heart was about to burst out of his chest.

“My research,” he sighed, “Half of it’s destroyed anyway. Let’s go.” Michael didn’t really think that sounded right. This didn’t feel like Alex’s space. He’d been in enough of Alex’s spaces before to know what they felt like. This wasn’t it.

“Your research?” he said. Alex gave him a look and stroked his thumb over his cheekbone.

“I’ll tell you later.”

“Stop that,” Michael said, his voice sounding more irritated than he meant. He could feel the anger in his body, but he didn’t know the source. “Stop not telling me things. You keep doing that. You need to tell me.”

“You’re right,” Alex agreed, swallowing, “But we need to get out of here. I swear I’ll tell you once we get in the car. But we need to get out of here.”

“You promise you’ll tell me in the car?” Michael said. Alex nodded.

“I promise.”

They were upstairs just as fast as Alex had been downstairs. Michael saw blood. He turned his head to find the source, but Alex’s hand was back on his neck to stop him.

“Don’t look. Let’s just go to the car.”

“What, you tryna baby me?” Michael asked, “You know I’ve seen some shit.”

“Yeah, I know,” Alex said, still leading him towards the door as his thumb dug slightly into the muscle on his neck, “Doesn’t mean I have to show you more.”

Michael sucked in a breath and he was thrown back into his body, the power from the ring still thrumming through him and teasing a possible second surge. It was old and unused and desperate to stretch out some of it's pent up energy.

Alex was there, staring at him and holding onto him. He was so close, so real, and so was that memory that was just in the opposite direction. Michael stared at him, taking him in.

"What happened?" Alex asked, hands squeezing his biceps. His hand started to slide up, but stopped at his shoulder. "Hey, you with me?"

"Yeah," Michael said, "I'm okay."

"What happened?"

"I think, uh," Michael breathed, swallowing. His throat felt dry again. The heat of the hotel seemed to work with the heat inside him; he was on fire in the best way. "I got, like, That's So Raven'd."

Alex blinked a couple times, his thumb moving in slow circles against his collarbone not too far from where it’d been moments ago in his vision. Michael wanted to let his eyes roll back into his head and just sink into the bed with Alex beside him and let this undeniable strength course through him.

"You saw the future?" he said, "Like one of Maria's visions?"

"I think so," Michael confirmed, "Only… mine wasn't of something bad. I mean, not really, anyway."

"What was it?" Alex asked.

Michael licked his lips, studying Alex for a moment. The ring on his finger fit perfectly as if it was made for him. The power it gave settled nicely in him, pulsing and eager to be used just a little bit more, but in a childish, playful way. It wanted to stretch after too many years being cooped up.

"Hey, I'm going to try to see something else," Michael said. Alex's eyes went wide as saucers.

"What? Tell me what you saw the first time," Alex pressed, his hand shifting just enough to cup the side of his neck. Michael layered his hand over his, feeling bold and unperturbed. At some point, they were going to get there. He was sure of that more now than ever.

And he wanted to see more.

" Michael ," Alex said, but Michael closed his eyes and breathed in, letting the power in the ring take him somewhere else.

And he was somewhere else.

He was standing at the end of a driveway. He looked around and tried to grab some sort of identifier, but all he saw was a house behind him and then a school bus headed towards him. It stopped in front of him, a kid stepping off and running towards him with a backpack almost as big as she was.

"Daddy!" the kid yelled and Michael tried his damnedest to act like he was meant to be here as the little body slammed against his legs for a welcoming hug. "Is Dad home yet? Can you tell him to get ice cream? I think we need ice cream."

"Oh, you think we need it?" Michael asked, walking with the kid towards the house. It felt natural, oddly enough.

"Yes," the kid said simply, running towards the door. She threw it open and Michael laughed and jogged the rest of the way. He could hear her already telling a story about school and he was trying to stay close enough to follow.

He walked into a foyer, pictures lining the wall. Family portraits.

Him and Alex. The three of them.

When Michael came back to his senses, Alex was right there again and staring at him without faltering. The ring was still alive, but it was at a sated hum now that it had been used a few times. He wondered how it would feel doing something he understood. He couldn’t wait to try.

“Hey,” Alex said, soft and comforting as he welcomed his weight. The vision he had was definitely not what he was looking for, he wanted to know more about Alex’s research and why it all felt so wrong and where the hell they were, but the second one…

“Hi,” Michael said, breathing and his eyes drifting down to his lips. Michael had experienced a lot of urges to kiss Alex before. Somehow this felt more dire.

“Please don’t do that again,” Alex said, “Maybe we should take it off.”

Michael shook his head carefully, eyes scanning him, “No, it feels fine now. It just needed to be used after being in a little box for decades. It’s good. Feels good.”

“Okay,” Alex said, still clearly hesitant. His fingers played with the hair at the back of Michael’s neck. There were two beds, but Michael was trying to figure out how to convince him to share one. They could fit. They’d shared smaller. “What’d you see?”

Michael breathed deep, wanting to get closer. He kept his hands to himself no matter how much he wanted to touch. He was being good. To get to where those visions said he was headed, he had to be good. Good for himself and Alex.

“Tell me what’s going on,” Michael said softly, “What are you researching? Who are you working with?”

Alex blinked once, twice before dropping his hand off of Michael. Which definitely hurt, but the fact that Alex didn’t move away definitely helped.

“What did you see?” Alex asked again, more pressing, “I know you saw that I’m researching something.”

Michael shrugged. He technically did, but he didn’t see anything identifiable. He didn’t know what it was. He would like to. Then again, he’d always wanted to know everything about Alex Manes.

“I didn’t see what,” Michael said, “I just saw that someone’s going to fuck with it. I think. I don’t know, we were in this basement looking thing and it felt really off and, and not like you, but you said your stuff was in it. And you had blood on you and when we went upstairs, there was more blood. But you said not to look. I don’t know what you did or what happened, but, like, if you told me, maybe we can prevent it getting that extreme.”

Alex stared at him for a long moment.

“You saw that both times?” Alex asked softly. Michael hesitated before shaking his head. “What else did you see, then?”

“Um,” Michael breathed, trying to think of the right words to say, “Uh. I don’t think, um…”

“ Michael.”

“Family portraits,” he said carefully, figuring that was easier to start with than a whole person who called them dad, “Like, ours. Um. I know we don’t belong in suburbia, but I guess we fucking get it anyway.”

He laughed. It wasn’t funny, but it was easier to say it like it was a joke. Alex looked at him, face confused.

“Suburbia? Like. White picket fence kinda thing?” Alex asked. Michael took a slow breath.

“I, uh, I didn’t see a fence, I was too focused on the‒” he stopped, licking his lips. Michael rubbed his thumb over the ring. It seemed to purr at the attention. Michael couldn’t wait to get back home and see what he could really do.

“On the what?” Alex prodded, reaching out to rest his hand on his leg and reigniting the contact. It felt so good. Michael really liked when he was touchy, it was his favorite thing about Alex.

“Um,” Michael breathed, feeling drunk off the attention and the ring all at once. He thought about lying, maybe that they were babysitting because that was close enough, but he was so tired of lies and half-truths and I’ll-tell-you-laters. “On the kid.”

Alex froze for a moment, “The kid?”

“Yeah,” Michael said, shrugging softly, “I, uh, I guess she was ours. She was calling us dad. Do we have any water? My throat is super dry.”

“I… I don’t think you’re seeing the future then, I’m never having kids. Do you realize how awful of a parent I would be? Awful. Neglectful. That’s not… And after I clearly fucking hurt people?”

“Maybe not,” Michael said, not about to argue right now. He was too busy feeling good. Alex kept his hand on his knee. “But whatever it was, it was good.”

Alex stared at him, quiet and clearly thinking things through. Michael let him. It was easier to give him space and time now. He’d gotten better at it before his visions, but they solidified to him that they were on a good path. It felt like they were making good choices and taking good steps. This was just a part of it.

Alex eventually took a deep breath, looked him in the eye.

“I’m gonna tell you what I’m doing, but you have to promise you’re going to stay out of it and trust me,” Alex said, “You promise?”

“I promise.”

“And you’re gonna promise to be honest with me?” Alex said, “And stay safe. Like, seriously. Don’t be reckless just because. I know you.”

I know you.

“Yeah. I’m doing better now,” Michael said, stretching his hand out, “I am. But I’m… I’m tired of not doing shit together. Doing stuff separately always gets us in shitty situations, Alex, I wanna be a team. Can I be on your team?”

Alex swallowed and moved his hand up, tucking Michael’s hair behind his ear.

“Yeah. Be on my team. Let’s be a team,” Alex said. He shifted and Michael waited patiently, watching him. “Okay, so. Deep Sky. It’s… it’s got some good people, I think, but it’s overall fucked. I don’t trust anyone in there, but it’s where I’m doing my research. Sort of. So I’ll tell you.”

It almost felt too good to be true to hear, but he didn’t need the ring to know that Alex was being honest. It showed him anyway. Truthfulness radiated off of him in vibrant blues and whites. He didn’t even need to get in his mindscape to be sure of it. It was strange to feel like that was unnecessary, like his body didn’t need confirmation because it already knew. It didn’t feel like he was stepping off a ledge. He hoped Alex had the same confidence, wondered what would happen if he put the ring on him.

If Alex still felt like he was stepping off the ledge, he was going to be sure to catch every inch of him this time. No piece would hit the ground like all the times before.

He was going to make this work.

“Everything?”

“Everything.”

#malex #malex fic #michael guerin #alex manes #roswell new mexico #my fic

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lokislastlove · 4 years ago

Text

Come One, Come All (dark!Loki x reader)

Summary: A girls night out to the fair takes an insidious turn.

Warnings: Noncon/Rape, knife play, oral (m&f), smut, bondage, kidnapping.

This is a dark fic! 18+ ONLY! Explicit Adult content. Please READ THE WARNINGS! Do not continue if these matters upset you!

Authors Note: I wrote another one! No idea where this came from, but it was fun to write. Still working on improving my smut, huge thanks to @darkficsyouneveraskedfor for some tips and editing the shit out of it. 😘 also I know there is a creepy clown in the pic but I feel like I have to say there aren’t any clowns in the fic. I hate clowns.

Chapter 1:

It was the kind of summer night you dream about, warm enough to keep you comfortable in your shorts and peasant top, but with a light breeze that keeps you cool enough to fight the flush of alcohol in your veins. You look forward to these moments when you are able to go out with your girlfriends and let loose, forgetting about all life’s responsibilities, if just for a single night.

“Come on!” Ash calls over her shoulder, her hand tight around your wrist pulling you impatiently.

“Aww but that looks so good” you groan as you press your face longingly against the glass barrier of the hand dipped corn dog cart.

The sweet scent of the frying corn dough wafts tantalizingly through the air making your mouth water. You friends laugh at your theatrics, having just helped you scarf down a large sugary funnel cake and a platter of nachos, the evidence of which still stains the corner of your mouth. Really, it was their fault for getting you tipsy before taking you to the county fair, everything just smelled heavenly and if you could you would try one of everything.

“Just a slushee?!” You beg as Jen steps behind you and pushes you out of the food court, giggling the entire time.

“Come on, fight the drunchies! You promised you would try that new funhouse,” Jen whines, looping her arm through yours, Ash doing the same on the other side.

“Oh yeah,” you grumble.

“Oh stop it” Ash scolds playfully. “Everyone at work keeps talking about it - it’s like a mini escape room! And I’ve always wanted to do one, please.” She rants excitedly before giving you her best puppy dog eyes.

“Ugh that’s cheating. No one can resist those big brown eyes” you pout, but yield as easily as they knew you would.

“I know” Ash smirks, tossing back her long silky black hair over her slender shoulder.

“This is gonna be so much fun, I promise” Jen bumps your hip, giving you a wide encouraging smile.

You manage a strained grin as you let them lead you through the crowd. It’s not that you don’t like funhouses or the idea of doing an escape room, having always loved solving riddles and doing puzzles. It’s just you don’t like clowns, and every funhouse in your experience has at least one.

“Oh damn there’s a line!” Jen moans as you all stop in front of a large structure covered in flashing lights, the ominous ‘Tricksters Trap’ bathing your face in a violent red glow.

Garish contrasting colors somehow both attract your eye and make it hard to look at. Your pupils dilate with the lines of fluorescent bulbs burning into your retinas. The stereotypical circus music blares through the cheap speakers, reminding you of one of those old Jack in the box toys. And of course, without fail, was the obligatory clown statue hanging over the entrance, like some creepy sentinel there to guide you to your inevitable demise.

“Ugh fucking clowns” you grimace as you pass by the entrance, heading toward the end of the line.

“Yeah they definitely nailed the creep factor,” Jen agrees, her eyes shining with nervous excitement.

“I know isn’t it great?!” Ash squeals.

You stand there taking in the horrific detailing painted on the side of the metal structure. You are thankful when Ash explains there is a time limit, only ten minutes to complete the puzzle or else they kick you out and you have to try again. If you figure out the puzzle you get to leave through the mirror maze and you earn the coveted “I tricked the Trickster” sticker.

“Gotta get that sticker, or else that bitch Katie at work will never let me forget that she got one and I didn’t” Ash complains, causing you and Jen to share a look and snicker.

“Hey! Don’t laugh, this is serious! We gotta be smart and figure this out, failure is not an option” she urges dramatically before collapsing into drunken giggles with you and Jen.

“You ladies seem eager to prove yourselves,” slithers a low voice.

Startled you gasp and spin around quickly. The three of you look up at the tall lean figure standing behind you. He wears a perfectly tailored black ensemble, that matches the color of his slicked back hair. His eyes practically glow green against his alabaster complexion. His sharp cheekbones and angular jaw make your breath hitch, causing his thin lips to curve into a sinister smirk. He is stunning.

“Um, yeah. Well this place has the whole town buzzin’. Seems like everyone is talking about it” Jen is the first to speak.

“Ah I see. Wouldn’t want to miss your chance to take a stab at it” the mysterious man surmised, eyes focused on you.

“We got this shit. Right guys?” Ash assures him as she playfully smacks you and Jen.

“Well, I guess we’ll find out. Good luck,” he challenges with a raise of a brow.

You stare after him as he saunters away without another word. His hips and shoulders sway smoothly, his soft footsteps giving him a dangerous almost feline vibe, like he could rival even the most deadly of predators. As he turns to round the corner of the ride he takes one last look over his shoulder at you. Your eyes lock for only a fraction of a second but it’s enough to send a chill down your spine.

“That was weird, right?” You mutter, eyes still transfixed where he disappeared.

“Eh, just another creepy dude. If I had a nickel for every weirdo who tries to chat me up…” Jen jokes.

“You’d have like a whole 50 cents,” sasses Ash.

You are finally broken from your daze when Ash is pushed into you. You laugh and try to brush off the lingering effect of the handsome stranger, shifting your focus back to your friends. The line goes by quicker than expected, with only one group out of the three ahead of you making it out with stickers. The losing groups return to the line from a back door, bickering about where they went wrong.

Finally it is your turn. Ash claps her hands excitedly, dancing up the metal stairs to the costumed man at the entrance. His red and white stripped suit is expertly torn and painted with fake blood to make him look as intimidating as possible. With a tip of his top hat he welcomes the three of you and begins to explain the rules in his well practiced accent.

“Come one come all to the Tricksters Trap, if you’re feeling lost, just go find the map.” He sings with flair and a perfectly timed bow, directing you to the inauspicious black door.

Taking a deep breath you follow your squealing friends into the darkened hallway. Pausing to look back as the door creaks shut, cutting off the jovial sounds of laughter and chatter with a sudden slam. You flinch at the loud noise and turn back to the dim hallway. The short corridor is lined with wall to wall green velvet curtains barely visible with the green rope lights running along the ceiling.

“Guys?” You whisper when you don’t see them next to you, causing your heart rate to quicken

You call for them again, this time louder, your feet unwilling to move from the spot. It has only been thirty seconds and you are already about to call it quits. Get a grip. You take a hesitant step forward.

“You guys?!” You call shakily.

“Hey! Come on we found the map!” Jen pokes her head from around the corner at the end of the hall.

She disappears just as quickly, waving her arm for you to follow. You breathe a sigh of relief and rush after her. You enter a large room filled with all sorts of random objects. It’s as if it is designed to overload your senses. The green from the hall carried on into the room, more velvet green curtains hung on the walls that were not obstructed by shelves of books or other oddities. You saw everything from perfectly aligned glass jars filled with alien looking creatures, grandfather clocks, to treasure chests overflowing with grizzled toys.

Jen and Ash are hunched over a table with a map spread out smoothly. It was easy enough to see it was a map of the room and hallway, with what appeared to be three small rooms hidden along the wall behind the heavy green drapery. You go over and pull back a curtain and find a locked door, the other two also hiding a locked door.

“Ok so it looks like we gotta find a way to open these doors” you offer, your anxiety calming a bit as you focus on the mystery at hand.

“Hey look there is some sort of code over here by the lock on the door.” Ash hollers excitedly.

You each pick a door code and frantically search the room. It doesn’t take long for you to figure out you need to use the books on the large shelf along one wall. The first number tells you the book the second refers to a specific page. You find a slip of paper in the book with a riddle written in a blood red ink.

“I make two people out of one” You read aloud.

“You can hold me in one hand, but I’m used to fill the room” Ash reads hers, her face twisting in concentration.

You both look to Jen, “I have two hands, but I can’t clap.”

“Damn no wonder so many people failed, definitely wish I wasn’t drunk right now” Ash laughs.

“No no we can do this, it’s probably items in the room so let’s just focus. We’ll do one at a time.” You assert, pacing the room and trying to take in all the random objects.

“Two hands…” you mutter as you stop in front of a large grandfather clock. “Clocks have hands!” You yell excitedly and open the narrow door.

The heavy pendulums swing inside and you see a shining silver glint off the rounded golden end. You pull off the small silver key, stuck on by a tiny magnet, and jump in excitement.

“Holy crap! You’re a genius!” Jen exclaims running over to take the key and try it in the door.

The key slides in smoothly and the door opens with a gratifying click.

“Woo! Keep going, you are on a roll!” Ash claps as she cheers you on.

“Ok, ok” you giggle before taking a deep breath. “Two people out of one… maybe a camera? Or wait…” you realize as you stare at Ash currently checking her makeup in an antique mirror hung between two curtains.

“Ash! Try pulling on that mirror!” You yell pointing frantically at the mirror in front of her.

Her brows knit together briefly before understanding, grabbing the frame and tugging gently until it swings open, revealing a key hung on the wall.

“Yes!” You all shriek together.

Suddenly, the lights flicker and a loud maniacal cackle reverberates through the surround sound speaker, turning your elation into yelps of surprise.

“Two minutes left” a familiar polished voice echoes forebodingly throughout the room.

“Shit, that scared the crap out of me” Jen laughs clutching at her chest.

The warning gives you pause, managing to shift the spirit of the whole room. Ash giggles nervously as she watches the lights of the room transition from their previous dim yellow light to a menacing red hue. The mood lighting in addition to the increasing volume of the horror soundtrack playing over the speaker helps to put you back into your initial anxious state.

“Seriously? Is this fucking necessary?” You curse, shaking your head.

“Ok let’s get the last one guys! We can still do this!” Jen yells through the cacophony of sound effects.

“Yeah what can we fit in our hand but somehow also fills the room?” Ash reiterated the final riddle.

“These red lights make it so much harder to see” Jen complains bitterly as she rummages through the items inside a large chest.

“Lights… Jen that’s it! A lightbulb!” A smile breaks out on your face as you figure out the final clue.

“Look up there!” Ash points to a solitary darkened light bulb screwed into the ceiling.

“I got it.” Jen jumps onto the table and reaches up, unscrewing it quickly. “There is a key inside!” She shouts.

She unscrews the bottom of the fake lightbulb and received the key before handing it to Ash. Each of you run over to the corresponding doors and turn the key, squealing in delight when they all slide open.

“Is that it?” Jen asks looking into the cramped dark space behind the door.

It was little more than a closet. Barely enough room for each of you to stand in. You were at a loss. You could have sworn that would be the end.

“Guys there is a lever here on the back wall of mine, how about yours?” Ash’s muffled voice calls from inside her closet.

“Oh yeah mine too!” Jen replies.

“Do you think we have to pull them at the same time? ‘Cus mine did nothing when I tried it” Ash says poking her head out to look at you.

“Thirty seconds!” That haunting voice booms again as a tick clock sounds through the speakers, counting down your final moments.

“Ok let’s try it together!” You nod at both of them, before stepping into the tight dark space.

“THREE! TWO! ONE!” You shout, mirroring your friends calls, pulling down your lever with a snap.

There is a moment of silence as the lights of the room behind you suddenly go dark, the music and sound effects cutting off instantly.

“Did we get it?!” You yell.

You don’t get the chance to hear your friends response as the wood door slams behind you, locking you into the small space.

Tags: @darkficsyouneveraskedfor @caffiend-queen

#dark fic #dark Loki #dark loki x reader #tom hiddleston #come one come all

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