#IT'S DISGUSTING AND VIOLENT AND THE ONLY WAY THESE TWO IDIOTS KNOW HOW TO CONNECT WITH EACH OTHER | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

starlight-loki · 4 years ago

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Headcanon of the day: Loki x Mystic!Reader

This sort of acts as context for a fic I have coming out in the next day or two. I thought I'd release this first as a kind of shittily-written backstory for it, so that the relationship dynamics make sense :) Enjoy!

UPDATE: the fic is all done! you can read it here

(this is quite long and the Keep Reading option won't work, dammit. my apologies 😅)

You know something's wrong as soon as Stephen bursts into your room, a troubled look in his eyes

"They're here."

Stephen had been talking about this for a while -- it was just a matter of time before Thor and Loki arrived in New York looking for their father

He told you from the start that they were going to need help; your help

At first you protested because you were still in the midst of learning everything there was to know about the mystic arts.

you weren't a beginner by any means, but you definitely didn't feel you were at a level where you could just... fight the goddess of death

Now, you realized as Stephen rushed out of your room as quickly as he came, you were out of time to prepare: you had to use what you knew and hope it was enough

You stepped down the stairs into the main entrance of the Sanctum just as Stephen brought Loki back from the void with a thud

"Right, I'm sending Y/N with you. The two of you are going to need help with this whole... situation."

"We don't need help, especially not from a mortal, you second-rate-"

Stephen sends all three of you through a portal before Loki can even finish pulling out his knives

at first, you really can't stand either of them

Thor is... too much muscle, not enough brain

while Loki on the other hand is half part brain, half part whining weasel

You honestly feel like you got stuck babysitting the two of them, and there's a part of you that hopes this mission Stephen sent you on won't be so bad after all

Of course, everything sort of went to shit when you found yourself on Sakaar

You were the first to arrive, and were admittedly terrified when you came face to face with the Grandmaster

you had powers and were strong enough to defend yourself, sure, but this seemed like a whole other ball of wax entirely

You chucked a few illusions here, as well as a couple fancy tricks you learned from Stephen there, and soon enough you became the Grandmaster's... magic show.

It was disappointing really, to know that your powers were being used to amaze three headed ogres and other folks who looked like they walked straight out of the Capitol from The Hunger Games, but at least you weren't fighting in the arena

or worse... dead.

to your surprise, Loki showed up a week later -- escorted to your room by none other than the Grandmaster himself

"Y/N, I've got another wizard for you!"

(you swear you can see Loki's jaw clench at the Grandmaster's term, and it takes all you can not to laugh)

"He can do illusions too. Maybe you two can, y'know, think up a big show for us tonight."

Loki's surprised to see you (and also relieved to see a familiar face, finally), but he quickly disguises his relief as disgust before you can think anything more of it

"I'm not sharing my bed." You say tightly, and Loki shoots you a glare before settling down on the couch in the corner of the room

At first, the two of you barely talk to each other despite sharing a room

You really just throw some illusions together during your show, and then head back to the room to sulk in silence

It honestly starts to feel like you're living the same day over and over, that is until you wake up to the sound of screaming

You rush over to Loki, to find he was having a violent nightmare

When he finally wakes up, terror in his eyes and not fully registering his surroundings, you place a hand over his forehead gently

You remembered an incantation you read once while at the Sanctum, one that could calm even the most restless mind, and you mumbled the words to the best of your ability

To your relief, Loki's breathing slowed as the last of his nightmare faded away

"You okay?"

You don't know why, but you find yourself reaching to hold Loki's hand in both of your own

His fear, his memories... you could almost feel them physically reverberate in you

maybe your initial conceptions about Loki were wrong, after all. Maybe he wasn't nearly as bad as you thought

you go out of your way to try and be a little nicer to him, sneaking in drinks and other treats you managed to grab on your way out of the Grandmaster's parties for him to try

sometimes, the two of you would even stay up until the early hours of morning, sharing stories and laughing together and actually feeling happy

for a garbage planet, maybe things weren't quite so bad.

until the night you had a nightmare. you could've sworn it was real, the way everyone in your dream seemed to dissolve into ash right in front of your eyes

you didn't realize you were crying out in your sleep until Loki woke you up, the entire situation reminiscent of when you first caught him having a nightmare of his own

you see the worry in his eyes, and you can't stop yourself from crying as the events from your dream played through your mind

"It's alright. It's not real. You're safe, Y/N. You're safe."

Loki repeats those words quietly like a lullaby until your breathing calms, and you grab his wrist before he can retreat back over to the couch

"Please stay."

the two of you don't realize just how touchstarved you are until you're both lying together, holding each other as if the world were about to end

(i'm getting Pompeii-esque visuals, am i crying??? maybe)

as your relationship progresses into purgatory-type territory -- somewhere between friendship and romance -- you realize the connection between the two of you grows stronger

specifically, the telepathic connection

before you know it, you can hear Loki's thoughts, and he can hear yours

you suspect it has something to do with the incantation you used to heal him after his nightmare

(you never did read the warnings on that one. oops.)

after a while, the two of you managed to control your telepathic abilities, to the point where you didn't hear the other's each and every thought

there was only a soft buzzing noise in the background of your mind, as if Loki's energy was gently reminding you he was there

Loki found your thoughts incredibly irritating at first

especially how you never seemed to shut up when you were nervous

there was a certain comfort in knowing you were only a thought away, though. especially when the day finally comes when you have to battle Hela

there's a moment when you're convinced Loki had died -- when he ran back into the palace to summon Surtur -- and your breath stops all together in your throat

for a few seconds, you couldn't hear his thoughts anymore. the constant white noise in the back of your mind was gone

when it suddenly resumes out of nowhere as you flew away from the remains of Asgard with Thor and everyone else, you couldn't help but make a run for Loki

you found him in one of the sleeping quarters on the ship, and before you could think twice, you kissed him. hard.

"You idiot! You could've died!"

You can't stop the tears of relief and the smile that lights up your face as you take him in

"I didn't die, however. I'm still here."

All you can do is laugh, and to your utmost delight, Loki pulls you in for another kiss

except this time, you freeze.

"Do you have the Tesseract?"

the way Loki's hands tense around your waist tells you everything

"...why would you think that?"

"I'm a mystic, you idiot! I practically pick up on energy for a living!"

Realizing he really can't hide anything from you, Loki materializes the Tesseract and holds it out to you carefully

"What were you hoping to achieve with this?" You ask, your voice nothing more than a horrified whisper

the lost look in his eyes tells you everything: he wasn't really sure, himself.

you conjure a portal and send the Tesseract far, far away from the two of you, and you can almost see the relief visibly fill Loki's eyes as that temptation disappeared

You realized as you landed back on Earth that the two of you were finally safe. You were home, and you had Loki now, too.

Things were going to be okay.

Until of course, the day your visions started.

#headcanon of the day #loki x reader #loki x gender neutral reader #loki x reader headcanon #loki laufeyson #loki imagine #loki x reader headcanons #the avengers #thor ragnarok #doctor strange #mcu loki #loki hc #loki x reader hc

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blanknamed · 4 years ago

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trial and error pt. 3 [senku x reader]

I had a lot of issues writing this chapter for some reason. I think I ran out of creativity for a good few weeks so I kinda struggled trying to keep Senku in character. I really just wanted to get the third chapter out though so I hope you like it!

SHIPPING: SENKU X READER

PREMISE: [Name] had always known Senku was a little bit of an oddball but that’s what made him so interesting to her as children. Now in the Stone World, he’s only even more interesting what with his claims about shooting up to a million years worth of technology back, but some things never change with him; specifically on the concept of love. As a way to get him to think about it as something other than “disgusting feelings” she proposes for him to think of it differently, though it seems to be going in a direction she never expected.

PART ONE - PART TWO - PART THREE

{–*–}

CHAPTER THREE: FINDINGS

He was standing near his base by the time [Name] was done. From the looks of it, he had tried to dress up as well, even if it looked like the littlest effort was made. His hair stayed as big as it was, but what seemed to be a makeshift bowtie was settled on his neck (albeit lopsided, but [Name] didn’t really expect much from him in the first place).

“Jeez, who dressed you up, the local village boys?” She asked once she was within hearing range with Senku.

Scowling, Senku only shook his head. Flicking the strip of rag around his neck, he said, "Chrome and the bumbling fools of guards obviously haven't gone on dates before."

"I don't think you have much room to talk. Besides I’m pretty sure that was obvious," [Name] replied humorously, remembering when Ginro couldn't even look her straight in the eye during her and Senku's first few months at the village. "Why would you ask them of all people anyways?"

Senku raised his eyebrow, as if finding the question peculiar. "Who should I have asked?"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe the married men in the village?" [Name] suggested, watching as Senku furrowed his brows even more. Giggling, she shoved his shoulder. "So much for being a genius. What, were you so nervous to go on this date with me you forgot something as simple as retrieving data from the most obvious people?"

Senku rolled his eyes. "I'm busy with other things--saving the world from going back another thousand years in society, being one of them.” He reasoned as he turned his head away from her.

[Name] only laughed at him, pushing him to forward so they can start walking towards the woods. “Let’s just get this date other with, shall we? You didn’t forget to plan, I’m presuming?"

“Of course I didn’t. Do you take me for some idiot or something?” Senku asked as he peered at the younger girl, who only gave him a knowing look. Instantly, he shook his head. “No don’t answer that. It was a rhetorical question.”

“Oh, I don’t know…” [Name] trailed off. “Remember when you were so caught up in one of your projects you ended up putting too much laundry detergent in your washing machine?”

That day had been burned into her memory--it had probably been the only time she’d seen Senku visibly panic over something so mundane. They were helplessly watching the washing machine shake violently and become a soapy mess in it’s little area for almost an hour until Byakuya came home to a disgustingly sweet smelling hallway and two elementary school children covered in bubbled up laundry detergent from head to toe.

“Don’t remind me; I smelled like laundry detergent for two months.” Senku muttered.

“It was funny, though. Definitely took thoughts away from my dad and brother.” [Name] replied happily. She didn’t need to turn her head to see that Senku had immediately spun his head toward her at the mention of her father.

A warm silence followed between them, no doubt Senku was thinking of something to say--should he say something about it? Should he brush it off? Senku had known [Name] enough to know that, while he never took anything like emotions too seriously, she wasn’t exactly emotionally attached to much either. He didn’t doubt for a second that [Name] thought about her family during those late night preparations she partook with him when Kohaku or Chrome couldn’t stay up past the 20th hour like they did.

He also didn’t doubt that she had done the same thing he had done once she thought her family over--understand the probabilities of seeing her mother and finding her father and brother’s grave were most likely slim and choosing to focus the task at hand: saving the world from total chaos at the hands of Tsukasa and his wildlings. So, she kept it silent, just like she always did.

Should I even mention anything about that? He wondered to himself as he helped her walk down a narrow junction between some large trees. They’d known each other long enough to understand each other without much verbal communication. Even after not having much contact once Senku entered middle school along with the whole thousands of years of being petrified in time, they still had a weird connection with each other. Maybe that was why he decided to free [Name] of her stony confindes; no one else could read his mind or understand what he’s thinking like she does.

Whatever route he took, it wouldn’t be awkward, he finally concluded when they reached the river. He let [Name] hop on the rocks that stood above the water before following suit. “Right, that was the day they got into that car accident.” He stated once they reached the other side.

[Name] hummed. “Mom was stuck at the hospital all day and wanted to take me with her; I couldn’t bear the smell there. It was too clean. So I went to your place thinking you might need something since you’re so useless--OW!” She rubbed her head as she glared over at Senku, who looked the other way, acting as if he hadn’t just slapped the back of her head so hard it made her hair flip over her head. “Anyways, I thought you needed me for something and apparently you did, but I don’t think an eight year old could have done much if a ten year old couldn’t do anything except stand around and watch the mess. It was funny, though. Mom and I laughed about it after a few years.”

“Glad to know my endless suffering and pure shock brought joy.” Senku said sarcastically, though [Name] could pick up the light heartedness behind it.

Elbowing him lightly so he can turn to look at her, [Name] smiled at him. “Well just so you know every time I think of the dad and brother, I also think of you with a bubble beard right after.”

Senku, for a moment, felt something turn before he wrinkled his nose. “Did you just family zone me? During a date?” He asked disgustedly. It was his turn to get a slap on the back of his head.

“Seriously? That’s what you took away from that?” [Name] asked, irritated. She decided to look forward as they kept walking, however it seemed as though they walked mindlessly through endless amount of trees. “Where are we going anyways?”

“Just a few more feet. There’s a clearing close by; I think you’d like it.” Senku said as he nudged her forward.

[Name] covered her eyes as she began to notice leaves becoming lower and lower to the point that she had to duck and sometimes even squat to get through some spaces. Man, if I knew this would happen, I would’ve worn something besides this kind of dress, she thought reluctantly as she watched the ends and edges of the dress get dirtied. Still, she persisted as she had been curious as to what the clearing had looked like. She hadn’t gone so far in terms of exploring for the past few weeks; winter was coming and Senku needed every available person possible to help prep the village for the freezing season. She spent hours lining and sewing furs onto their cloaks and coats to the point that she left little prick marks on her hands permanently.

“Okay, we’re here.” Senku announced once they both managed to stand again. Shaking a few leaves away from her head, [Name] looked up to see a green clearing, like Senku said. However, he never said how… Ethereal it was. Wild flowers, ones she vaguely recognized to be new versions of flowers from the past, spread across the spanse of the field. Lightning bugs flicked and glowed every now and then, being the main source of light besides the makeshift lantern Senku was currently crafting beside her.

“Whoa,” was [Name]’s only response. “Don’t tell you found this last minute just for a date, Senku.”

A snicker followed right after. “No. I found it a few months ago when trying to collect foxtail millet for the noodles. Let’s keep walking, though. This isn’t what I wanted you to see.”

It’s not? [Name] thought as she let Senku lead her further past the clearing, walking around the flowers as best as possible. The walk was silent, which surprised [Name] since Senku sometimes never did keep his mouth shut when it came to his little experiments. Could it be he's taking this date more seriously than she expected? She let that thought cross her mind as she watched him walk ahead of her. Not possible. If anything, he might just be keeping things a secret since I'm the test subject. [Name] thought to herself. Why would he even take this seriously in the first place?

"Look I know this is a date and all, but could you not glare at me?" Senku finally piped up, looking at his companion warily. "You look like you're about to plot my murder?"

"Who said I haven't already?" [Name] quipped, finally shaking herself from her thoughts. "Anyways, where did you take us, Casanova?"

She laughed as she watched Senku's face scrunch up in disgust at his nickname. He opened his mouth, ready to spew an insult before he stopped himself, staring at the shorter girl. Sighing, he just waved a hand forward. "Look above you."

"Above…?" [Name] questioned as she craned her neck. She sucked in a breath as she looked at the lightened sky above her. Of course, she's had plenty of nights where she stood outside to marvel at the stars and sky--she had never seen it so bright pre-petrification. She had thought that was the brightest and clearest she'd ever seen when she was in Senku's observation tower.

That is, until today.

"It's so… So…" [Name] started, but couldn't quite put her words together. She felt Senku brush up against her shoulder as he finished for her.

"Beautiful." He complimented as he stared up as well.

The sky was littered with various shades of purples, pinks, and blues. There wasn’t a coud in sight, which allowed the stars to litter across the dark plain above them. Faintly, she can make out certain constellations, pointing out the ones she wasn’t too sure to her companion, who nodded in confirmation to all of them.

"Who knew we'd get to see the sky as non-polluted as this." Senku said as they continued to keep watch over the sky.

"You took the words right out of my mouth." [Name] laughed. "I thought the observation tower was something else, but you really outdid yourself here, Senku. I didn't even expect you to walk this far without having you get carried by Chrome or something."

"Killing the mood." Senku replied, flicking her forehead, though [Name] made sure to take notice of his shortened breath he tried to hide. She pretended to feign ignorance even further when she let him walk behind her, catching his breath behind some bushes and then shuffling around until he finally brought a basket out.

"Suika should've given better instructions on where to find this thing." The spiky haired scientist said. "It looked like it got buried under a bunch of dirt instead of sitting plain out in the open like she said."

Senku opened the lid, raising an eyebrow as he pulled out two bowls of his notorious green ramen, wrapped tightly in large leaves to keep it from spilling. With it came a makeshift picnic blanket (though, it just looked like old scraps of dresses sewn together over the years; no doubt Suika had asked one of the older village women if she can borrow it). Together, they worked to keep the blanket down, placing heavy rocks at the corners to keep it from flicking upward since the wind picked up a little stronger from where they placed themselves.

"This ramen tastes gross." Senku groaned once he settled down, though it didn't stop him from continuing to eat it. [Name] only rolled her eyes as she ate it herself (though she did have to agree with Senku; the ramen was gross, but she put up with it anyways), basking in the windy air.

“I’m surprised you haven’t said anything yet about the information you’ve gathered for this date,” [Name] said. “Usually you relay the data to me once you get it all down."

“Can’t exactly tell the subject about the data I’m gathering about them.”

“Oh but you’re dying to tell me, aren’t you?” [Name] pushed. Truth be told, she was more curious on just how exactly he thought of the experiment. Sure, she had been the one to suggest it, but she had zero idea on what his plans are--what were his variables? Was he gathering information? Was he including numbers or was all of this just pure observation? There was no doubt in her mind that someone was observing them as well; most likely Kohaku since she’s better off at hiding and watching without being noticed once.

“Maybe. I’ll tell you after I’m done with this whole experiment.” Senku replied as he took a sip of the water packaged with them before handing it off to her. [Name] took it graciously, taking a few sips as she thought about his wording.

Quirking up her eyebrow curiously, she asked, “Wouldn’t that be tonight?”

“No.”

“No?”

“No,” Senku confirmed. “You think one night will determine this whole thing? It might take more days actually--a few weeks even. I’ll gather all my information, relay it to you, and then confirm whether or not love is just a construct of emotions for me. Which it will be, from the information I’ve gathered.”

[Name] watched him in disbelief. There was no way she actually heard that correctly. Weeks? How’s that going to work? Would I even last a few weeks managing to go on more dates with this idiot? She questioned. “Wha-- I-- Don’t you have a grandiose plan that requires all your time and attention?”

She only received a shrug as an answer. What the hell does that even mean? She questioned herself as [Name] watched Senku stretch. He was the one repulsed by the idea of going on a date. Why would he extend this to weeks? She let herself wonder, pulling all the probable possibilities as to why he decided it so suddenly. Sure, Senku was right about not being able to gather enough information from just one date, but he could have easily just done one or two more nights of their little experiment dates instead of presuming it down to a matter of weeks.

Finally it finally hit [Name]: he was hiding something. What it was exactly, she’s not entirely sure, though she knew Senku was probably planning something stupid that could most likely put him in danger, or worse killed, which in turn would cause her to intercept and talk him out of it. He was probably using this date shenanigans to distract her from his death inducing plans.

Squinting her eyes at him, she decided to hold back on her on findings. After all, if he isn’t bothering to tell her what he’s gathering on her, she’ll do the same. Instead, she sighed, opting to make it seem as if she should have known. “You’re unbelievable.” [Name] replied.

“Oh, I know. That’s what gets you on your toes right?”

PREVIOUS PART - NEXT PART

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rizumary · 4 years ago

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Akeno Hana woke up in a small hut on the far edge of the forest. There was a castle on the hills; at night, the whale swum above the highest tower and sung a melody that made her heart ache. The forest was empty; the ocean on the sky was serene and blue. She was all alone in this strange world. Then, she dreamt. [Hajime/OC; Medieval AU]

Story by nutteu | Full story on AO3

That night, for the first time since she woke up, the whale didn’t sing. And that night, for the first time since she could remember, she dreamt.

The tavern was loud and full and warm; patrons laughing and chugging their drinks, soldiers resting and chattering with their friends, travellers asking left and right about the town, the bard singing on the corner of the room. It was unbridled with life and sound that Hana was taken aback for a moment. She remembered this tavern; she crossed it on her way to the market. “Hana! The orders for three tables!” she heard someone shouted, startling her as she was the one being addressed. Upon hearing that, she snapped out of her thought and quickly moved to the source of the voice, only to find herself already standing there with trays full of drinks and pies. Hana froze on her track. She wasn’t mistaken. It was herself, with the same hair, and same pale eyes, and the same voice as she laughed and teased the severe looking young man behind the bar. “Come on Kyoutani!” she heard her doppelganger merrily said. “Stop with the sour face, you’re scaring away our customers.” The young man scowled even deeper at her. “I’ll show them scary.” Hana heard the tinkling laughter, and remembered that ever since she woke up, she never laughed. This was the first time she had ever heard herself laugh like that. As the other Hana turned, Hana squeaked and stepped back to avoid her. How could she explain it anyway? Hello, I’m Hana too, I came from another world. She would be burned at the stake in a second with that kind of explanation. But as Hana prepared herself for some sort of explanation regarding her existence, the other Hana went past her. No, went through her, and Hana thought, oh. Was this… a dream? Now that she thought about it, no one around her seemed to notice her as well. And as she attempted to put her hand on someone’s shoulder, it completely went through. She was no more than mere spirit in here. A faint whisper of existence within this strange dream of herself. Was this a memory, or was this a fantasy born from her desire to find someone else in her lonely world? Her train of thought was broken as she heard the sound of tray falling down with a loud clang. On the other side of the room, other-Hana was surrounded by a bunch of nasty looking men. One of them had her hand caught in a grip as he leered at her with unnaturally sharp teeth. “Pretty little thing,” the man growled. “Do you know who you’ve just poured your piss-poor alcohol on? I can have your head on a platter if I wanted to.” “I’m sorry, Sir,” other-Hana said, she was trembling, but she held her ground. “I will make sure to clean your clothes properly, and replace your orders with a new one. So if you would please let me go—“ Hana winced as a loud slap echoed on the room. The rowdy, loud tavern suddenly turned silent. She saw a violently red mark bloomed on her own cheek. Some people gasped, and from the corner of her eyes, she saw Kyoutani along with a stern-looking woman walked to where the commotion was happening. “Don’t you dare talk back to me, you filthy wench!” the man roared, and Hana closed her eyes as his palm raised for the second time. But the sound never came. Instead, there was a deafening silence in the room that she could hear even the breath of people closest to where she was standing. When Hana opened her eyes, there was another man there; clad in armor with chinks on them, holding the brute’s hand with one hand and another holding a sword to his neck. “Let her go,” the man said. His voice was deep, stern, and there was something in it that made Hana inched closer. She felt like there was an unseen string that kept tugging her forward to be closer to this man, just a tad closer. “Gently,” the man added when the brute snarled, “One wrong move and I’ll have your head on a platter. You are creating a ruckus, and threatening the citizen of this kingdom. By the rule of this kingdom, you have to pay a hefty sum for your trouble, as well as serve your time in jail for physically harming an innocent maid. If you tried to retaliate, I am allowed to take out the threat. Which means, you and your pathetic bunch. Let her go.”

There was no mistaking the threat and authority in his voice. The brute growled lowly, but let other-Hana go. The knight glanced at her, who was scrambling away from the both of them. Kyoutani and the older woman were already there. Immediately, Kyoutani took Hana away from the scene while the woman stayed. Her beautiful face was hardening into a severe glare that made Hana’s blood ran cold. She wouldn’t want to get into trouble with this woman.

“Thank you, Hajime,” the woman said. “I can take care of it from here.”

The knight—Hajime, Hana whispered to herself—nodded, and withdrew his sword. The brute snorted and leered at the woman. “You better let your knight here take care of things, woman. What can you do exactly, to take care of—“

Whatever he was about to say, Hana couldn’t hear it. His words were cut off as the woman suddenly, faster than she could see, struck the man with her dainty-looking palm. She didn’t stop there. As soon as the brute recovered, she slapped him again, with enough force to make the man twice her size staggered backward. And then again, when he snarled and lunged to attack. She deflected the attack as easily as blocking off a child; her movements fluid, yet strong.

“You hurt my employees, and I’ll hurt you back ten times more painful than that,” she said when he was struggling on the floor. “You and your disgusting bunch will be banned from this tavern, as well all other taverns I have connection with. I’ll let you go this time, but if you dared to come back, dared to churn up another trouble, I will make sure it will be your last mistake.”

The man looked like he was about to attack again, but the woman whirled on her heel, and knocked him out cold with her boots. There was a loud crack as his head hit the floor. She stared down coldly at his underlings, and they all scrambled off as fast as they could, dragging their boss’ limp body along with them.

“I’ll clean up here,” she then said. “Do me a favor and check on my sweet little things on the back room, will you, Hajime?”

Hajime nodded at her. “Yes, Madam.”

Hana let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. The woman seemed to be the owner of this tavern by her words. But she was really strong, and amazing. Hana admired her even if she didn’t remember ever meeting the woman in her life. And the knight seemed to know of her prowess, too, if his respectful behavior was to go with.

Hajime. She tilted her head to the side, and wondered. There was something about him. Was it because he saved her in this dream? No, it wasn’t just that. She was sure, there was something that drew her in to this knight.

She followed him to the back room, where other-Hana was biting her lips to prevent another sob from falling out of her mouth. Her cheek was red, and there was a tinge of blue on the edge of it. The man had slapped her very harshly. It looked like Kyoutani had given her some ointment for it, as well as the bruise on her wrist from where the man had held her. She was sniffling even as Kyoutani sighed and patted her back. He looked awkward and out of place there with his scowling face and kind gesture.

When he noticed Hajime, however, he quickly withdrew his hand and put on a deep frown. As if he was afraid to be caught being soft. Hana chuckled, glad that none of them could hear her. This boy was adorable.

“If you’re here, that old hag is done then,” he said, and walked up to the door. “You take care of this snotty idiot. God knows how many orders are delayed by now.”

With those parting words, he left and Hana stepped closer to the other two in the room. Hajime smiled stiffly at other-Hana, but he kept standing there. She supposed it was hard to crouch with his armor on. Or he just didn’t know whether it was okay to sit next to her. Hana smiled at him; soft, unbidden. Even if she only met him in her dream once, she liked Hajime and his awkwardly sweet behavior already.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

Other-Hana nodded, still trying not to cry again. “Y-yes, thank you, Sir. For saving me back there.”

He smiled a little. “You don’t need to call me that. My name is Iwaizumi Hajime, and Madam Li was the one who handled the brute, anyway. You should thank her later; she wiped the floor with his arse. Literally.”

That got a wet chuckle out of other-Hana. She looked up at him, and shyly offered a smile. “Madam Li is amazing, isn’t she? She’s very protective of us, too. I’m very thankful that we’re under her care.”

Hajime nodded to her, and finally, sat next to her on the bench. So it wasn’t the problem in the armor, then. He was just shy and awkward. Hana moved closer to them, to see Hajime’s face more clearly. She wanted to memorize these people’s faces—his, especially. Maybe, maybe, someday she’d meet them in her world if she searched hard enough.

“You’re a very brave girl for standing up to that man, Miss,” he said kindly.

There was a red hue on other-Hana’s face that wasn’t just from the bruise. She looked down, biting her lips to hide a smile. “Thank you. Um—my name is Akeno Hana.”

“Okay, Miss Akeno,” he nodded, took off his glove to offer a hand to her. “It is very nice to meet you.”

She glanced at him, and slowly took the offered hand. “Me, too.”

They were left in silence after that, but neither seemed uncomfortable. Until Hajime stood up and gestured to the door. “I have to go. I have to continue my patrol tonight. I hope you will be alright. Until next time, Miss Akeno.”

Akeno nodded absentmindedly, most probably still dazed from their interaction. When Hajime reached the door, however, she suddenly stood and reached out to him. “Wait! Uh, t-thank you! I will bake you some raspberry pies if you come again. So—so, please come… again…”

The tail of her words was small and hesitant, but Hajime laughed and nodded at her. His smile was warm and his eyes alight as he said, “Well then, I look forward to meeting you again. I will see you soon.”

Akeno’s heart must have been beating as fast as Hana’s right now. That smile, those eyes; Hana felt something that she had never even thought about ever since she woke up alone: affection. Hajime’s smile had swept her off her feet in just one glance, and she felt like she was so light that she could fly off to the ocean sky.

She watched Hajime’s back as he turned, and as soon as the door was closed behind him, her surrounding turned dark and reality pulled her back to her world.

Hana woke up with wonder in her heart, and a hope that warmed the tips of her fingers. Outside of her hut, the forest rumbled gently, and the birds were silent. The whale bellowed its song softly, and Hana felt more alive than she had ever felt since she woke up.

Read the rest here

#Iwaizumi Hajime #knight iwaizumi #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi x oc #akeno hana #iwaizumi oneshot #haikyuu

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yayteaberry · 3 years ago

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*SFW* Dumbass! (Bakugou)

When you were about two years old, your family made a huge move from America to Japan. Your father found suitable hero work there so that’s where you stayed. His quirk worked much like a wolfs, giving him heightened senses and much more mobility. Naturally you inherited the physical aspects such as a tail and ears, though much of you remained human like your mother.

Growing up, you quickly bonded with your neighbor's son, Katsuki Bakugou.

Your fiery and determined attitude worked really well with him and he made for an excellent playmate. He could handle your tendency to roughhouse and wrestle, if anything he seemed to enjoy it. You two were inseparable, spending a near unhealthy amount of time with each other, this carried well into your schooling years.

Despite claiming you had your own intentions behind it, you did follow him like a lost puppy. It was quite obvious to everyone around you that you’d do anything for him, except for him of course.

You were almost dangerously defensive over him, snapping at people who questioned or pushed at him while you were around.

It made you seriously upset when other people touched him or got to speak with him more than you, heavily sulking and pouting until you got your opportunity for his attention. As guilty as you could feel about it in retrospect, you really can’t help it.

When you had his attention all to yourself, you loved to spar with him more than anything else. It wasn’t like it was a special activity but still it felt like something between you and him. As you grew up ‘wrestling’ became something skin to sparring and then just became a routine part of training once he got into UA. Though there was a nostalgic undertone, in the past it used to be something he’d only do with you, and you were having a hard time letting go.

Currently you were waiting for him to come back to his room so you could ask him to do just that. He enters his room right on time, totally unperturbed you were already inside since you’d made a habit of coming in anytime you wanted.

“Hey! Lets go practice!”, you chirp as you hop off his bed, excitedly skipping up to him.

“Nah, I just finished up doing that with Kirishima for the past hour and I wanna take a break.” He speaks as he nonchalantly drops his bag to the floor.

It’s somehow more insulting that you can smell how sweaty he is.

“What the fuck do you mean ‘no’?”, with a disgusted huff you size him up, angry enough to just tackle him already.

“Fucks your problem? I didn’t promise you anything today.”

You pout as you often do, crossing your arms over your chest, ears pinched back. “Yeah but why would you run off with him like that! I’m right here! You in love with him or something?”

He rolls his eyes and matches your stance with his standard snarl, staring you down. The height difference does nothing to make you intimidated, and it never has. “I can do what I want. He asked me first and either way I need to branch out and win against different people who actually provide a challenge.”

You scoff and throw your hands at your sides after balling them into fists, stomping your foot down to accent your disapproval. “I do provide a challenge, you don’t win every time you asshole! I bet he was really terrible at it, not nearly as good as me!”

The way his face scrunches up a moment makes you narrow your eyes, not sure what he’s thinking about. When a big grin breaks out you feel your rage double.

“You’re jealous of him.”

That makes you nearly explode, snorting out a scoff and shaking your head. “Not in your wildest fucking dreams! I am not jealous!”

“Yes, yes you are.”, he says after a laugh that makes your face feel hot.

“Stop talking so calmly! I just said I’m not so I’m not! Shut the fuck up! Shut up, you’re so dumb sometimes!”, you shout back at him, turning your head to the side as you instantly loathe your inability to shut your mouth.

He only smiles wider, leaning close into your personal space, gently flicking your nose. “You totally are, I can see it.”

You swat at his hand and growl, tail bristling as you go fully defensive. “I said shut the fuck up! There’s nothing jealous about me! I just don’t think you should be spending your time with such a loser!”

Easily he grabs your hand, tilting his head and speaking with such a mocking tone you have to keep down the urge to bite him. “Oh? And, just who do you recommend replacing him? If not him, then who? If you’re not jealous then I assume you’ve got another person in mind. C’mon, I’m all ears.”

With a harsh yank you get your hand back, pushing on his chest and getting even more frustrated when he doesn’t budge. “Shut up! I said shut up! Stop being such a bastard about this!”

“Why should I? You’re the one freaking out.”

“I AM NOT FREAKING OUT!”, you shout, freaking out.

“It’s adorable that you get so upset just because I spent an hour with someone else, you’re all pink in the face over it. That’s jealousy if I’ve ever seen it.” He can’t wipe the smirk off his face when you act like it, he did always find it cute when you get so heated over him giving you attention.

“I’m not upset and I’m not jealous! I just don’t like you accusing me of things that I’m not! You’re a fucking idiot!”, you continually spout, upper lip curled up as your breathing turns into gruff pants, barely avoiding the urge to start barking.

Despite how you look fit to maul him, he finds himself perfectly comfortable grabbing one of your ears, delicately massaging it between his fingers. The action almost instantly starts working to calm you down, feeling so good you lean into it without realizing it. Though you’re still pouting, the raging fire has simmered down greatly.

“I can’t only spar with you, I do need to improve my technique.” He speaks as he continues, now using both hands for both ears.

You puff out a large breath, “Well why can’t you do that with me? I can change my fighting style, do different things. If you need something different then why can’t you tell me what?”

“Why is this so important to you? We hang out a fuck ton outside of doing that so whats the difference.” His voice is laced with annoyance, making you wince internally.

“Because he’s got his stupid hands all over you.”, you reply, mildly hypnotized enough by his massaging that you let some of the truth slip out.

“So you should be the only person allowed to touch me?” He raises an eyebrow at that, nearly letting out another laugh.

Your stomach sinks at the implication of what you’ve said, attempting to fishtail your way out of it. “No! Just, that, well! Why’s it even matter, you’re not listening to me anyways! God is it too much to ask that you pay some attention to your best friend sometimes!” You grab at his wrists and pull his hands away, tossing them away.

“What the hell would you even call this right now? You even sleep in here most nights, how the fuck can I possibly give you more attention! Do you wanna be attached at the fuckin hip!”, he says with an exasperated grunt, pinching at the bridge of his nose.

“Shut up! It’s just comfortable here is all, not a crime to have preference! S-So what if I like it in here? So what if I don’t think you should let just anybody get their hands all over you!” You anxiously fidget with your hands, shrugging passively despite your raised volume.

“So you admit that you’re upset about me sparring with Kirishima because you don’t want him to touch me!”, he says while he points an accusatory finger towards you.

“Yea, whatever! So what!”, you shout as you throw your arms up, sitting back on his bed forcefully enough to bounce a few times, “Not a fucking crime is it! It’s contact, I’m part wolf you know, it’s kinda in my blood!”

“I have to do other shit besides enable your needy ass, you should be grateful I allow you to do all the shit you do!” He puts his hands on his hips, leaning down to get in your personal space.

“I’m not fucking needy!”, you shoot back instantly, nails digging into your palms.

“That’s right, you’re needy AND jealous!”

You can’t handle anymore slander being thrown at you, lunging off the bed and tackling him to the floor with a loud growl.

He goes down but flips you underneath him the moment he makes full connection with the ground, holding your wrists together in one hand above your head. Squirming around somewhat violently gets you free, pushing him by his chest to get him away. Once he’s off balance you shove him back onto the floor, sitting on his back.

As you grab one of his arms to twist, he shoves you backwards hard enough that you tumble off. That disorients you long enough for him to pin you down, his chest against your back and your face partially mashed into the floor. You can’t reach him like this, so you get up on your knees before he’s able to hold your hips flat down, wiggling like before to see if you can escape.

But, it doesn’t work, all it does is make him grunt strangely as your tail awkwardly presses into his stomach. To submit so he’ll get off, you relax, your ass settling against his lap.

“Giving up? Say it, say you’re giving up!” He says with the usual grit, tugging one of your arms backwards.

You yelp in pain, no longer willing to go gently into defeat. “I’m not giving up, I just want your boner out of my ass!”

“Don’t distract and fuckin’ lie, say you’re done!”, he punctuates his sentence by yanking your arm.

Just to prove a point you made up on the spot, you wiggle your hips against him, definitely winning by the way he lets go of your arm and sits upright to grab at your hips instead, letting a soft ‘fuck’ slip past his lips.

You’ve already started crawling away when he shoves you forward, falling onto your face with zero grace.

“Hey! Asshole, don’t push me!”, you whine as you rub at your nose, nearly sneezing.

“Serves you right!”

“Oh, for fucking what!”, you get back to your feet, seeing that he’s sat down on his bed.

“I don’t have to explain it to you!” He plops down onto his bed, once again crossing his arms over his chest.

“So that means you’re so cowardly you won’t admit that was a dirty play!”, you spit out at him as you stomp over to him, standing in front of him.

He nearly jumps up, getting right in your face to try and make you back down. “Don’t think I forgot what you’re trying to distract me from. This is all because you can’t accept that I can’t be up your ass all day like you are up mine!”

You don’t fold in the least, if anything leaning in close enough that your nose bumps into his. “Fuck. You.”

“Jealous bitch!”

“Stuck up bastard!”

The staring contest you’re having is intense, full of tension that threatens to explode if you so much as blink.

Suddenly, there’s a shift in the energy, gaze softening for just a split second before he presses his mouth onto yours. It’s not until he pulls away that you realize that was supposed to be a kiss, turning red as a tomato as your eyes widen.

Bakugou was actually blushing, looking at you as if he’s having a hard time with something. Which did scare you a bit since he was always so sure of himself. “You’re fucking stupid sometimes but you know you’re mine. So, just say it.”

“... What..?”, you say after a full ten seconds of star struck silence.

He grimaces and collects himself for a moment before speaking through gritted teeth. “I’m asking your dumbass to go out with me.”

“That’s not really asking, you didn’t even phrase it as a question...” Your eyebrows knit together as you shoot him a confused look.

“Well what’s your fucking answer!” He rolls his eyes and clicks his tongue against his teeth, something he always does when he’s nervous.

“Of course it’s yes, I’m not completely braindead,” you smile and kiss him on the cheek, very pleased over the outcome of the argument, “only stipulation is that you tell me before you rub yourself all over another person. In return I’ll stop threatening to bite everyone.”

#bakugou katsuki #bakugou katuski x reader #gn reader #gender neutral reader #bakugou fluff #fluff #mha fluff #a03 fic

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ephemerlskies · 4 years ago

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constant craving 04 (final) | jjk

⇢ pairing: jungkook x reader

⇢ genre: “drabble” series, best friends to lovers au, slight angst, FLUFF, bestfriend!au, unrequited love, smarter idiots but still idiots all the same

⇢ word count: 6.8k

⇢ warnings: explicit language, mentions of alcohol, excessive drinking (drink responsibly), pining, jungkook is an overdramatic baby, a surplus of feelings (i am disgusted with myself), one (1) fire hazard

⇢ summary: with the Friendiversary approaching quickly, both you and Jungkook have an array of trials to navigate through. and, as Seokjin gets caught in the crossfires, you must finally make a decision that will define how the rest of your life will unfold.

♪ playlist: constant craving - k.d. lang, bad religion - frank ocean, misunderstood - lucky daye, neu roses - daniel caesar ♪

╰ series index: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 (final)

a/n: wow.... so bitches really call this a drabble series then write a 6 thousand word finale... its me im bitches... anywho, i really love the way this played out!! jungkook had to hit the bottom to start rising to the top and it shows. also, the ending is like....... hehe well ill just let you all see for yourselves. enjoy my lovely readers! this wrapped up such a heartfelt series that is so dear to my heart. thank you all for the support for this! and i might whip up a few drabbles simply because i think this relationship is really cute hehe ok... happy reading! <3

part four: i love you too

Carrying that music box in his pocket felt like a well-deserved and all too grim reminder of what went down a few days ago. Sitting drunk yet again, though one would best describe Jungkook’s posture as more of a sloven pile of flesh and bones withering away on a bar stool, he searched for the wallet which was in one of his four pockets.

He reached for the wrong one. Instead of the faux leather skimming his skin, it was a solid wood corner pricking the pad of his index finger. It stung more than it should have. Perhaps he'd gotten a splinter, or the top layer of his skin was simply too raw from all the wear and tear of your fight. Jungkook wasn’t one to jump at such negligible shocks, but it sank him back into that night. It wasn't the wooden corner at all.

You loved him. You still love him.

That's what you said. That's what nearly put him on the floor instead of in his chair, and what had been preying on his mind as if he were no different than a helpless animal drowning his regrets in whiskey. And he knew he should have said it back.

Jungkook theorized ways to defy the cruel restraints of time, and if the universe would be so kind as to allow him to travel back to that day in middle school when he happened upon a scared, flush-faced student running so fast and panicked that they bumped into each other, just to be the one who said 'I love you' first. Or those genies and shooting stars and blessed fountains that supposedly granted wishes; he would pay no hesitation to plead with whatever deity would listen and permit his most prioritized desire.

The retrospective bargaining remained a ghost haunting just about every waking moment of his life. Though, he had not been quite sure if said ghost was some cosmic sent presence or simply his own guilt. If regret took on physical ramifications, then Jungkook would have been convinced that was why he felt as if his legs wouldn't have been able to carry him even if he tried.

If I could just go back to that night with the knowledge I know now, I would have hauled my ass to your house instead of that club and told you that my choice was made for me the moment I met you. Every other person I ended up with these past twelve years was simply a buffer for loving you. I had to prepare myself, because loving you was something entirely too tremendous for a boy still grappling with his own faulty speech pattern to assume.

I wish you knew that. I wish I didn’t stand there like an idiot and let you leave, thinking me some hero for finally letting this new guy Seokjin take the place I had always imagined being in. I wish I had just said that I love you.

I love you.

I love you, ___.

Jungkook’s vision resembled that of a smudged lens. However, there were no fingerprints on his eyes. The world had turned blurry and colorless, the latter he knew was not due to the sixth order of whiskey he let soak into his heart’s open wound.

A life of color was one of the many things that left when you did.

He didn’t know it then, but Jungkook was being fervently dramatic since it had not been more than seventy-two hours the last time he spoke to you. Thought to him, it was akin to being just short of death and taking another breath would have been an expense he wasn’t sufficiently funded to pay.

Whatever happened in the interim of him paying his tab and walking out onto the sidewalk must have landed somewhere in the blacked out stretches of his inebriated memory, since he was now staring at your contact gleaming on his phone bearing the semblance of one guardian angel.

It was so ingrained into his routine. Opening the app with the phone icon, clicking the ‘recent’ tab, and finding your name no further than three contacts down the list because he called you as if he had important things to tell you, though normally it was just to hear your voice or to tell you about what he had for lunch. And it nestled into his muscle memory as natural as it was for him to breathe or blink. Even when alcohol debilitated his driving, walking, and thinking, his body was drawn to seek a haven such as yourself. And he nearly pressed ‘call’.

Before the comfort of your voice could ring through to his phone, reality descended upon that reflex. Right now, you were probably with Seokjin, attending some pretentious art gallery for one of his colleagues.

It was just Jungkook and the night sky and the moon that he hoped you were gazing at too; it would be the only connection to you as of now. The moon, a parcel for the most longing gazes.

There are stories where the two protagonists get it right. This was not that story. That reality stung more than the residual burn of whiskey clinging along his throat.

Both you and Jungkook made every wrong decision possible. From the moment you subjected yourself to exploiting the veneer of being a ‘good friend’ to disguise any true feelings that might have taken light, to the moment Jungkook was presented with all the excruciatingly obvious signs that you were in love with him, but was simply too inept to notice, to the both of you neglecting any urge threatening the bounds of platonic. Any path that would have steered to a destination where you two would get that happy ending was conveniently untaken.

And you had a long journey riddled with heartbreak after heartbreak to prove it.

He traded his phone with that wooden music box, scuffing the soles of his shoe as he walked back home, hoping he’d be able to give the gift to you on your Friendiversary.

-----

Your pain was still raw. In this way, you had not considered, or rather avoided the idea of tending to such delicate wounds. The days leading up to the infamous anniversary had been spent hoping you would organically heal enough to allow the presence of Jungkook while denying another reopening in your wound.

You had been juggling a not so thrilling number of conflicts the three days preceding that self-acclaimed national holiday.

One, Seokjin and his bottomless supply of invitations that you felt too obligated to refuse. He had such a life packed with plans which is more than you could have said for Jungkook. He, most likely, busied himself with promoting ranks in some obscenely violent video game. Two, a mutual friend of yours had told you Seokjin was fixing to make your relationship official this coming Friday, and you didn’t want to admit the lackluster reaction upon hearing the news was equivalent to receiving a C on a test. It wasn't the worst grade to receive, but you knew there would always be something better than adequacy. Not satisfying enough nor disappointing enough to be dealt with without bending a few expectations. And three, all you really wanted, the only agent of excitability (both good and bad) that diluted the festering numbness in your heart just a tad more, was thinking about seeing Jungkook on your Friendiversary.

But with that excitement, was its equally worrying constituent: whether or not you would be able see Jungkook that day without cracking under pressure.

Things weren’t exactly attuned between the two of you. Your emotional stature had never been more unsynchronized and offkey with Jungkook’s, so, forcing a celebratory movie or dinner would be no different than adding cornstarch to the already thick tension.

“___? Are you listening?” Everything Seokjin had just been droning on about filtered in and out without a single word being absorbed, and you could have pretended this wasn't the case but stress had apprehended caring enough to lie.

“Sorry… No, I wasn't. I’m just stressed is all.” Since that was only a half lie, self-admonition had not yet taken permanent residency whenever you would look at Seokjin’s eyes offering nothing but genuine tact.

“Oh, sorry to hear! Are you okay? Anything you wanna talk about?” That, and the soft press of his hand over yours had swallowed you into a perpetual, guilty cycle of comparing two incomparable people.

Seokjin was always like this. Serving a gentle smile and honest ears as a vessel of calmness during whatever calamity you were grappling. It was safe knowing if you fell, you’d have a comfortable cushion to soften the impact. He was mindful with his words and had the intelligence to articulate them with impressive eloquence. You were more likely to see pigs fly than to see him stutter. He had a diverse group of friends and walked a steady path to a financially secure life. And you started to wonder what else one would need in a partner? Any sensible person would do much more than you had to snag someone like Seokjin, as handsome as he was kind and respectful. He seemed to have everything Jungkook lacked, including mutual feelings for you.

It would have been entirely too easy to pick him, as if there was a ‘Seokjin’ button and a ‘Jungkook’ button and you could press Seokjin’s on a whim. If choosing him would have meant miraculous nullification of all your very real and very unremitting feelings for that idiot you called your best friend, then you would have done it in a heartbeat.

There wasn't a 'Seokjin' button or a 'Jungkook' button, nor was there a button that would wondrously redistribute your feelings towards Seokjin.

And then there was Jungkook. Always in the back of your mind when he wasn't tenanting the focus of it.

He was never predictable in the ways that mattered. It was just as difficult figuring out his next move as figuring out whether this trait was exciting or exhausting.

Though, this had not been to say you didn’t know him well; in fact, all his habits and preferences and pet peeves could be bound into a book, written by you, and it would be so accurate anyone who read it would think it was an autobiography. He knew you to the same caliber. Where Seokjin would ask what was wrong, Jungkook wouldn’t need to. He already learned your behavior to know to say something along the lines of ‘tell me what’s wrong when you're ready, we can watch your favorite movie or swing by that Chinese place with those great fried dumplings in the meantime’. And on more favorable occasions, he'd say nothing and simply wrap you in his arms and let his shirt become a delta for your tears.

To anyone else, that might sound entirely too frank and perhaps a bit dismissive to be comforting, but to you it was the exact cure for each affliction. To never need explanations that would validate your feelings because Jungkook saw to that right when he took notice; to never manufacture fake smiles through failed attempts at cheering you up since, of course, he knew exactly what to do to vegetate joy in your heart and earn a smile from years and years —and years— of practice. It had almost driven you mad, thinking about how he knew from a shift in your brow what you were feeling and yet, somehow, never realized how deeply in love you were.

All the while, the moment you were convinced you had been versed fluently in his every move, he would pawn another blindsight that would leave you breathless and amazed all the same. Jungkook always had concealed tricks up his sleeve, and life was anything but repetitive with him. You would more often than not find yourself struggling to relearn language and existing itself just to keep up with him. How exactly he managed to wield such diametric facets of being was an enigma beyond the reasoning of this universe.To feel like home, somewhere you belonged outside of your own body, and a daring voyage into a completely new world all at once must have meant he was some sort of Godsend. Only angels could have sculpted a soul so magnetizing, you assumed.

Seokjin was an umbrella, shielding you on some arcane journey under an unforgiving rainfall. Your shoes kept dry and your hair intact.

And if he was the umbrella, then Jungkook was the rain. Falling everywhere and all at once, so that you couldn't help but let yourself be saturated in his entire, vibrant being. And who’s to say letting such a water fall against your skin was a bad thing? Sometimes rain is cleaning, gentle even. They bear fruits as beautiful as rainbows that guide you to an unnamed treasure.

Your treasure, however, had a name.

Jungkook calling.

"___? Hello? You in there?" Seokjin waved his hand in front of your face mostly in a jesting manner, but part of him felt like your eyes were blinded by something held in your heart. If he hadn’t pulled you back into reality, you might have been lost forever.

“I'm just…” Your attention had abandoned this conversation the second his name gave light to your screen. “Sorry, um…”

“It's okay, you can take the call. I’ll be in the kitchen making us some coffee.”

If you were to thank him profusely, it would have been far too obvious how much you missed seeing his name among your notifications, and most likely expose how often you spent thinking of Jungkook while you were supposed to be enthralled with Seokjin. So, you just nodded and answered the phone.

Nodding and answering, as though that didn't feel like taking a breath of clean air after hours of swimming through muddied waters.

“Hello? ___?”

“Jungkook.” It took you longer than usual to form a response and what was assembled had been a half-baked utterance just to let him know you were on the other side of the phone, hearing his voice and feeling a surge of energy course through your veins like he was some delicious narcotic filling life into you after only a week without him.

“___.” Jungkook was in his own debt of words as well. The exchange halted for a few seconds, a jaded breathing cutting the cracked static.

“Look-”

“Hey so-”

Any hope that you had finally caught up to the same page as Jungkook was lost. Now, it seemed you two were reading entirely different books.

“You go.” You said after another dreadful pause. He was the one who called, so he should be the one carrying the burden of navigating through this deafening tension.

“Well, I- uh… I… Well, you see I was just, um, wondering…” Jungkook’s heart must have shut off. That would explain why even the most rudimentary of words felt closer to a foreign language. Or, why he was making conscious efforts to counteract the threat of his nearly dormant lisp.

His brain was drained dry of any blood, his inner mechanisms were shutting down. Even without the alcoholic filter catching words and common sense in its web, Jungkook felt himself fall into an overactive state of dumbfoundedness. Sobriety only a cataract for his emotional override.

“Our friendiversary?”

“I’m sorry, I did not understand literally anything you just said.”

“Me neither.”

The charming and familiar laugh that spilled through the speaker reminded you that Jungkook was in fact a real person. Not some figmented embodiment of every lost and unrequited and tortuous feeling you had been suppressing for twelve years. Jungkook was real, his laugh and everything else you loved about him were all so incredibly real. And more importantly, the pure joy you felt was real; a permanent serialization of his. Your smiles and his smiles had always surfaced in tandem.

Now, you both were laughing. Neither were warranted by his messy attempt at forming a coherent sentence. The weight of discomfort shedding from your shoulders had been partnered with a slew of relieved chuckles.

“Anyway, um. I- I still wanna see you on our Friendiversary. Or, at least give you your gift.” Admitting that was terrifying but the thought of breaking the consecutive streak of eleven years simply because he was too much of a coward to admit he wanted to see you dizzied him. However, the thought of spending your friendiversary alone terrified him beyond comprehension. So, he thought not about that as a possibility; he carved an opening to his heart in hope you wouldn’t send sharp thorns of rejection into it.

“Yeah, I, uh. I still wanna see you too. I mean, it is a national holiday. We gotta have holiday spirit, right?” You were forcing playful banter, it felt like lemon juice scouring cuts on your tongue, but you were so desperate to make things between you two feel normal.

“You’re right! So, um… You can come over tomorrow night. I’ll set up a surprise or whatever.” He seemed to have fallen back into stride with pre-confession Jungkook. Trying to keep up with him now would just exhaust you of all your means, so you chose to save the rest for tomorrow night. Even if that meant watching him walk away to some unforeseeable finish line; his back, the last part of him you’d see until you could finally collect your broken pieces and start walking as well.

“Sounds good! I’ll, um, see you then.”

“See you, ___.”

You had no idea, and how could you, that Jungkook was now wiping small clusters of wetness from the bed of his eyelids. Why he thought you, the one person that remained a constant in his life, would say no to him over one fight (of many) made for quite the spill of tears. But if you did know, you would have told him you felt like crying too.

"Hey! How did everything go?" You were so immersed in your virtual conversation with Jungkook you nearly forgot the person you were presently with. The train of guilt wouldn't stop for your pathetic attempts at disembarking.

"Oh! Thanks for the coffee." You sipped, and it had just been a stall to blink away the tears that were straying beyond your will of concealment. "It went good. We're still celebrating our Friendiversary."

"Friendiversary?" Seokjin's light chuckle veiled his tense concern.

"Yeah... Uh, it's just this thing we do to celebrate our friendship. The day we met."

"Oh... that's..." His eyes were scaling the rim of his mug.

"That's what, Seokjin?" You were stern, knowing well enough it was born of far more than platonic defensiveness. And you had no right to be the one prosecuting him since you clearly had more to hide than meets the eye.

"I mean, it's just interesting how dedicated you are to an anniversary with a friend." Seokjin wielded that soft-spoken voice which made it difficult to be anything but patient with him. And from the tone of it, he seemed to have no ill intentions with that statement, though it had not been an entirely innocent observation. To you, however, it felt like he might as well have set you on fire.

"Interesting? What is that supposed to even mean? I mean, we've been friends for twelve years. I- I don't know why people are always so judgmental." Your arms crossed over your chest, hoping he would take notice how much his comment slighted you. If asked, you would have insisted you would have been this worked up over any of your friends. Though you knew well enough this was untrue, and it made you feel even worse acting as though Seokjin was the one at fault here.

"I'm sorry. I'm not judging you, really. I just... I just have never heard of two friends doing something like that so religiously."

You sighed out all your anger, knowing the way you snapped at him was merely misdirected frustration. "No, I'm sorry. I know it's kinda weird."

"Look, I get it. You guys are close. But, ___, you talk about him so much that half, no, over half of your stories include him. We've been dating for, what, barely a week now, and I know more about this Jungkook guy than I know about you, and I haven't even met him."

Lips parted, ready to dispatch another slew of defenses to refute all the things he said. It was more disappointing than it was shocking to find nothing but a long sigh emerging. Because he was right. Jungkook has been interwoven so thoroughly in your last twelve years that if you only told the stories without him in it, then it would be the least accurate and nondescript retelling of your life. Fragments of an unfinished novel. It would miss the most crucial pieces, entire chapters, of your story.

You would have been presenting a shell of you, hollow and one dimensional. All the inner parts of you, the lungs and veins and tissue that gave you life and made you whole belonged solely with Jungkook.

That's why you sat there, blank faced, foolishly waiting for the words that wouldn't come to your aid because you had no place to contend with him.

"Seokjin... I'm with you..." It's all that would come up your throat, and it felt like acid. You were sure it burned his ears when he heard them more than it had your throat.

It hadn’t even been partially true. Physically you were with him, but in your head you were sitting on your couch with Jungkook, consuming a concerning amount of junk food while chatting through a movie used more as background noise than entertainment.

"Okay. Does that mean you don't have feelings for him?"

"Well..."

"Can you confidently say you could replace all the time you spend with him with time you would spend with me?" Seokjin must have noticed your returning tears because he loosened his verbal grip from your throat. To you, it sounded like he was pacifying you for some horrible sin, to anyone else it sounded as though he was simply trying to dredge up feelings that would disrupt the chance of a relationship between you and him. "___, I like you. I really do, but in all honesty, I'm looking for something serious. I think we would be great together, but only if you don't have any feelings left for him."

"Seokjin..." You regretted looking at him.

Sweetness was strewn in his eyes and gentle smile. Seokjin was softer than cotton, which made the real threat, the rough sandpaper wearing away skin and bones, you. It made it all the more painful to know you had been keeping everything you felt for Jungkook hidden from Seokjin. Though, if one would have presented an objective point of view, your feelings were far from secretive. And the most brutal honesty was that you knew feelings for Seokjin were never in your attainability. Not the way they always had been for Jungkook.

He was the wrong person who crossed paths with you at the right moment. A mere convenience. And you knew he deserved much more than what you had to offer.

"And maybe I'm being an idiot, but I like you too much to give you some ultimatum which would put you in such an unfair position. So, I'll let you think this over." His compassion felt more like a sharp blow to your chest. “No pressure.”

If he hadn’t smiled like he did, then you would have broken up with him right then and there. It was not possible to rip away such tender hope away from a smile so sweet.

"I'm sorry." You meant the remorse behind those words and it still hadn’t amounted to a proper consolation. "I'm sorry. I guess... I guess I'll go... Seokjin?”

“Yes?” He replied quickly, and you knew only a pace that rapid was one brought on by a sliver of faith that you might have made your decision right then.

“You’re a really great person. You deserve the world.”

Unfortunately, you couldn’t give him what he wanted. And as bitter and unkind as that might have felt at the moment, it was the only bit of truth and relent you could have offered him.

-----

In your bed, sleep became somewhat of an abstract desire. You knew your rest was deprived from you when the digital clock on your bedside told you it was six hours past the time you'd normally fall asleep. It was because you really did have a choice to make now.

To choose Seokjin, and know you'd collapse in the safety of his reciprocated affection, though haunted by how you would never feel the fullest extent of content. And you would live with that until resentment and distance wedged irreversible damage in your relationship.

Or, to choose Jungkook, which would catapult you into a depth so dark and tenuous that you would have no idea whether you'd meet gentle snow or hard, deadly concrete when you landed. And maybe you'd never land at all; maybe you would be caught in a state of falling down and down forever, until your beating heart eventually stilled.

Which one was worth it? Which were you willing to risk? These were the questions that kept you awake.

The hours leading to your undisclosed celebration events with Jungkook ceased being actual points of your existence and merely obstructions that you had to plow through in order to arrive at some conclusive moment. Something that might give you an answer to all your questions. Something that might have released you from devotedly checking your phone for a Jungkook patented text or call.

You were turning into a half-being. Someone who could only inhale a full breath, laugh an intentional laugh, and sleep a soundless sleep when their other half was there.

If you thought being in love with Jungkook for your entire friendship was pathetic, then you couldn’t fathom what you had become now.

Standing in front of his door, the same one you lugged him to that night he was too drunk to balance on his feet, when you willingly carried all the weight he couldn’t, when your lips became acquainted and comfortable with his within half a beat, you felt as if this chunk of wood was mocking you. A partition barricading you from Jungkook. Your Jungkook. The man you always felt you were on the outskirts of, with only a window to peer into his unreadable mind. And that was enough for you ―until now.

Now you were going to knock on that door with your hand, make him open it for you, and walk into his home. You would be the one to step foot inside of the very structure that only solicited closed doors and immovable walls and fogged windows. And you would leave behind your timidity, every feeling and urge that left you with disappointing compromises for the sake of maintaining this friendship.

You would be selfish, and he would finally feel a mere glimpse of what you have always felt for the best and worst of your life.

Even when he opened the door, arming a smile that actively disarmed you, this home of his was yours to conquer. This was your time to act for you alone, despite how many smiles he sent your way. You had not any weapons or shields or an infantry for a clutch. You just had your heart and all the love it carried.

“Hey! ___, you look… You look great.” There was no real incentive for him to censor how he truly thought you looked. Immeasurably beautiful. It was simply his own nerves impeding on the feelings that were too intense to express without it being followed by an entire soliloquy of I love you’s.

“Thanks... You too...” You could almost feel the words brimming in your and Jungkook’s mouth, carrying such raw emotions and longing intentions.

"I'm really glad that- Jungkook..." Walking into his house punctuated what you were about to say.

His living room was strewn with enough candles to steal the last of your words and to consider his house a fire hazard. That didn't negate this lovely sea of lights to be anything but romantic and thoughtful. A bit cluttered, and not at all perfect, but it must have taken Jungkook hours to set up every wax column. The thoughtfulness of this gesture would have astonished you had it not been for the consistency of Jungkook snatching your breath and words away whenever he tried. It was antithetical, the way you expected his surprises. Yet, always surprised all the same.

Unpredictable, completely surrounding you just like the rain.

"I had to turn off my fire detector but... Worth it." Jungkook considered the number of mishaps that could have dampened any chance of this being romantic.

A candle could tip over and set his entire place ablaze, the wax could leak onto his carpet and tabletops, damaging his furniture and savings for replacements, you and he could have suffocated from all the fumes steaming from the wick. But if that look on your face didn't feel like the only bit of revival to keep his heart's steady beating, if your eyes didn’t look as though it was the only set of eyes that shed beauty into this world then he wouldn't have used up exactly three lighters to pull this stunt. But it did, and he felt warmth and color return to every inch of his body.

He would have used hundreds of lighters to ignite thousands of candles if that meant an ounce of happiness from you. He wanted to say that, but he knew the candles said it for him.

The spectacle almost made you forget why you were here in the first place. It almost made you forget the resolve you managed to gather before entering. And then he said your name.

"___."

The letters flowing from his lips as if they could only be pronounced by his tongue. It sounded so good. So good, that if anyone else were to say it then it wouldn't have been your name at all. It would have sounded wrong, sullied. And it wasn't supplied by neat articulation, this new belonging of your name in his mouth. The need for him to sculpt your name into this world was more than that. "I will never forgive myself if I don't get this out while I still can."

"Jungkook, what is all this?" You didn't know why you felt a collection of tears brimming along your eyes, but you didn't care to figure it out. Perhaps you felt an influx of feelings, an abundance too heavy for your body to seal within the confines of your emotional seams, so they overflowed in the form of tears. This certainly had not been the first time you cried over Jungkook, but you had never cried over him like this.

"___, I love you!" Jungkook said loudly. It was just you and him who could hear, but it felt as though he wanted the entire world to know.

"What? I- You- What?" Your lack of verbal poise was indicative of your love for him once again taking the reins of your mind and heart. Words were a luxury you couldn't afford as of now. You just had to feel everything you were feeling until the rainstorm settled. The hope that he would spare you some remnants of fluency was far along, and you weren't too sure if what Jungkook was about to say would be gentle enough to leave you with any words at all.

"I love you. I don't know why I didn't know it sooner. Or maybe, I- Maybe I did know?" Jungkook sighed at his own ineloquence. "I'm stupid! That's it. That's my only excuse. I'm so stupid. The way I felt about you, the way I still feel about you, is something I thought all best friends had. I thought everyone felt like the moments they weren't spending with their best friends just felt like filler moments. Like, every day I spent without you was just a span of time I had to wait out until I see you again. Like every damn moment of my life is spent waiting for you. And if I don't end up with you then... then I'll never stop waiting."

"Jungkook, I-" He prevailed in surprising you, taking words and breath and thoughts all at once.

"And, I'm that stupid! I really thought all best friends had those moments when they stare at you, and- and-" Now, you weren't the only one with wet eyes and cheeks. "And I just feel like looking at you and being with you just makes me better. It makes me a better person, or something, and it makes me feel like... Like I'll never get hurt again. And even if I do get hurt, I know it's you I want to be there. I know that whenever something bad happens to you, or when you feel like crying or when you're happy or angry or anything that I want to be the one who gets to be by your side. When I look at you, all I want is to love you. To love all your pain away."

"You really mean that?"

"Yes! God, I love you." You didn't notice how it happened, but Jungkook's arms became a shield around you. Inside his arms you were indestructible. Your hands pressed against his cheeks, memorizing the plush, smooth skin. The world could hurl all the fire and ice it had, but it wouldn’t matter. "___, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry it took me so long to figure it out. I'm sorry that in that period, I hurt you. Please, forgive me. I love you, and I want to be with you."

"Of course, I forgive you. I... I can't believe this." Hearing everything you always wanted from him was drastically different when it was actually unfolding. It was a million times more than any hope or dream you used as a salve for your longing. It was everything.

"Maybe it took so long because I was afraid. Because the idea of loving you was something I wasn't ready for. Even though I did love you, God, who was I to take on something as fragile and crucial as loving you. I know I probably would have messed it up. And, fuck, maybe I'm messing it up right now. But I just needed it to be perfect. I needed loving you to be perfect because I don't want to give you anything less than that."

"You were always enough for me, Jungkook. More than enough. You were and are everything to me" His arms that pressed you further into him expressed how happy that made him.

"But I'm not perfect yet. I might mess up... A lot. No, I'll definitely mess up. I don't know if I can offer you perfect yet. But I do know that through everything I have never stopped loving you and I will never stop loving you."

"Jungkook... I don't know what to say." Your thumb grazed a falling tear from his face. Jungkook had not cried often in front of you; and you could tally up the amount of times he had on your fingers alone. But when he did, it was still as beautiful as when he was smiling or laughing or even scowling.

"You could say you love me back." You did. You loved him, his smile that was currently on a mission to melt your heart, his arms that carried both the good and bad parts of you, his wit that you always relished in. All the reasons to love him were an endless flowing river. If you were lucky enough, you would catch a glimpse of each beautiful current and be able to give name to the gravity that pulled you into him.

"I love you too, you idiot." The last word caught in your throat because your lips were being kissed instead.

His lips. Warm and exciting, allotting your being with an infinite devotion of his. And it was more than you could have ever hoped for.

It felt like fire. Like a grove of candles encapsulating the origin of heat. You and Jungkook, holding each other so close, you could have become one. Hot and all-consuming of anything in its path. If one stood too close, they would suffer scorching embers that stray from the orange pyres. Seokjin, Irene, and any other unassuming casualty that had the misfortune of stepping between the two of you, harboring the burn scars to remind them of what fumed from their interference.

Every element concocting between you and him was that of a bright flame, cremating pure metals and wet woods and thick forests alike.

You were in his home. His arms and lips and hands told you it was your home as well. All that time spent wondering why you could never slip inside before was never because he didn't want to let you in. And the thing is, you never thought to knock until now. You sat outside in a silenced hope that he would voluntarily open that door for you. But unknown to you, Jungkook seemed to be waiting as well. Waiting in a large room with empty spaces where you belonged and where he kept reserved for your residence alone.

He waited even when he wasn't quite sure of who he was waiting for, or if you would ever actually spill your warmth into his home. He waited until his fingers turned to ice and his eyes fell to exhaustion, for you to walk inside.

"So, you're like my boyfriend now?" Your voice brushed against his smiling lips.

"Yeah, your boyfriend, or whatever."

"You know this means you have to top next year's friendiversary. And I mean, all these candles? That's gonna be tough." It could have counted as sensory overload, the feeling of his palms flush against your back, the tip of his nose grazing yours, the bright array of candles illuminating the room. But you were so, incredibly cold without him that this felt like solace to you.

"When have I ever disappointed you?" Jungkook regretted what came out of his mouth too late to stop himself from saying it.

"Oh, I couldn't count the amount of times on my fingers alone! What about that time you forgot our chains for the tires on our trip to the mountains? We almost died." His eye roll only encouraged you to continue. Maybe, if you were lucky, he'd equip that cute pout whenever he wanted his way. "Or what about when you swore you brought water, but three miles in on our hike you had that look on your face. You know I reminded you to get water and you swore you did. Or what about-"

"Okay! I get it! I fuck up, jeez." He scrunched his nose, his eyes waning into crescents courtesy of that grin of his. You counted the number of wrinkles along the bridge of his nose as you always did, though you had acquired an expertise in the geography of his face. Each line and angle and ridge were now and eternally yours to restudy and marvel. "Hey, uh, almost forgot."

He reached into his front left pocket. "I, um, kept carrying it around thinking I'd see you somewhere. Kinda dumb right?"

"Not dumb." You opened the tiny box, wound the handle until the spring felt tight and you could see the throngs prick the textured wheel, and it was one of those moments where you didn't see a gift in your hand. You simply saw his thought and sentiment manifested as a box of wood that sung a tune.

All the things Jungkook wanted to give you, the sun and the moon and the entire universe were not his to give. So for now, he settled for this music box and there would be a day when he would collect each celestial being and place them right into your hands. Maybe then, he would feel less of a debt for possessing such a love like yours.

"This is... I love it. Thank you, Jungkook." You smiled, but it was motivated in the hopes he would smile back. You thought he deserved that much, at least. And he did.

"Sooooo... Can I tell Seokjin that you're actually in love with me and that he sucks ba-"

"Um, absolutely not!" As always, his crudeness and slight inability to remain mature for too long only wedged you deeper in love.

So, terribly in love. Your state of constant craving for Jeon Jungkook had been left barren. That desolate, solitary province was no longer yours to take residence in.

You had a home now. And you had no need to crave Jungkook anymore. He was right here, holding you.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

a/n: okay, cry with me.... these two.... such hopeless saps for each other i'm here for it. final destination is simp city... also (spoiler) it is completely canon that irene and seokjin bond over their mutual heartbreaks and get to smitten hehehe. anyway, my loves i hope you enjoyed this finale as much as i enjoyed writing it!!! it was a short but heartfelt journey with these two and i will miss their idiocy sm. thank u for your endless support i love u all!!! <3

#bangtanarmynet #ficswithluv #btsgoldnet #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts angst #bts fluff #bts writing #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook bestfriend!au #jungkook angst #bts series #jungkook bestfriendstolovers!au #jungkook series #constant craving #rubycoast

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utterlyhopeful-fics · 4 years ago

Text

Too Late

A/N: CONSENSUAL HATE SEX SMUT AHEAD. THIS IS MY WARNING.

Masterlist

Angel Reyes x Reader

Word Count: 2050k

Warnings: TRIGGERING CONTENT, consensual sex, hate sex, JUST DIRTY SEX, language, angst.

***************************************

“I can’t do this anymore. I can’t be your dirty little secret, Angel. Stop backing me into a corner.”

His vehement tone pierced her eardrums, anger radiated coursing through the evening air; “What the hell do ya mean, Y/N? It takes two to tango. Don’t act like I forced this on you. You decided to cross a line. We both did!”

“And now I’m ending it. Done. Over. Finished.”

Her austere hands sliced at in the invisible air hoping to rid herself of the frustration taking ahold of her.

Angel couldn’t tell if she was joking with him or poking at his inner workings. He’d heard her pleas so many times before he knew better than to believe her this time around. They were unstoppable, a magnetic pull that never ceased, always driving them together.

“Querida, I’ve heard this sob story before. Save me the bullshit this time.”

Y/N scoffed; “You seriously don’t get it, do you?”

His quizzically confused look almost made her laugh aloud as she covered her mouth. Angel Reyes never thought he’d see the day Y/N would stand up to him. In their battle for dominance, Angel hadn’t detected her deflated stance.

“Get what? Enlighten me, Y/N. What don’t I get about you, huh?”

“I’m done playing this game. I don’t want you anymore. Isn’t screwing Adelita enough for you to stay sated?”

His pupils dilated swallowing the whites of his eyes. Fear momentarily gripped every rigid bone in his body.

“What the fuck did you just say?”

“I didn’t stutter. You heard me, Reyes. I can’t decide if I’m the fool or you’re the idiot for thinking you’d get away with it? How many times did you fuck her and come crawling to my bed afterwards?”

Angel snapped shoving her roughly against the brick wall behind Y/N, his fingers indented into her arms leaving his burdensome fury. But what truly scared Y/N was the flicker of pure rage simmering just underneath his deceptive caramel irises. There was no trace of her Angel, the one she’d so grossly loved.

His tongue clicked with every single word that left his lips; “You don’t’ want to start this. I can promise you won’t like where it goes next…”

She peered into him unwilling to back down from the monster amongst her and welcomed his stabbing gaze. Y/N challenged him, calling his bluff.

“This is the last time you ever touch me in any shape or form. I’m fucking done with you. You. Disgust. Me.”

She spewed every syllable directly into his angelically sculpted face. Angel slammed her harder against the brick increasing her frightful nature.

“If I’m so disgusting, why are you here alone with me? Did you pep talk yourself into believing you can seriously walk away from me?”

His vice-like grip caused Y/N to cringe whimpering slightly. He leaned closer leaving just an inch between their bodies whispering; “You’re mine. Whether you like it or not. Tough shit, baby.”

Y/N growled attempting to break his sturdy clutch but Angel only squeezed harder.

Y/N gritted through clenched teeth; “Go fuck yourself.”

“I already have. And I bet if I were to slide my hand down into your jeans, I’d find you fucking soaked. You hate that I can read your body, the tilt of your hips my direction begging to be fucked. Shit, I bet you want me to take you right here where anyone could see.

“No, stop it. I don’t want this Angel. I—I’m in love with him.”

Angel pulled back looking her straight in the eye. Bewilderment the only registerable emotion.

“You what?”

“I’m seeing someone and it’s getting serious. I can’t – I won’t continue to do this to him.”

His vision tinted to an intense red unable to tame the violence mounting within him. For the first time in Angel Reyes’s life, he was speechless. Only one question lingered at the forefront of his mind: who.

“Do I know him?”

Her silence was unwavering and it pissed him off even further.

“Answer me.”

Again, Y/N remained diligent in her muteness before nodding. A meek ‘Yes.’ slithered from her.

Stillness erupted as they stared at the other watching every grimace, waiting to see who would make the next move. The hush sound of nothingness was beginning to drown them forcing them closer to destruction.

“You knew how I felt about you and manipulated it to the best of your abilities. Since forever, I’ve just wanted you to choose me, pick me, but you never do!”

Tears swarmed her weepy eyes as Y/N tried to collect her ramblings.

“I can’t be your side piece forever. If anything, you forced my hand. I need appreciation…affection of sorts. I crave to be someone’s first choice and I think I’ve found it.”

Angel grunted; “Who is it?”

“Coco.”

“No, NOO! My brothers are off limits. Mayans are MY family, not yours. Shit, aren’t you the little slut? Maybe we should vote and make you the groupie whore?”

Spit spattered her flushed cheeks as he slid a knee directly between her thighs.

“You’re angry, I get it. But now you’re just being cruel. I don’t owe you any explanations. Last time I checked I was single and able to do whatever the hell I wanted. Besides rumor has it Adelita is knocked up. Congrats, daddy.”

Angel exploded kissing her achingly stiff. His tongue maneuvered across her lips begging for access. She greedily accepted as a resounding moan tumbled out. Angel devoured her like she was his last meal, licking every available drop she offered. His knee grazed the divide in between her jeans rubbing tantalizing circles.

“I will always desire you, Y/N. You’re my forbidden fruit. Horny, aren’t you?”

A mere whimper was all Y/N was able to muster; “Yes. I hate you. I hate you for doing this to me.”

“No, you don’t. The face you make when you cum will be satisfactory enough for me… soon enough you’ll be pleading for my cock to be inside you. I dare you to tell me I’m wrong.”

Her nonverbal cues turned him more so. The face that Y/N wasn’t denying him only proved that she wasn’t ready to give him up.

“He’ll never fuck you like I do, make you cum like I can. After this, when you’re lying underneath him, you’ll imagine my dripping cock thrusting up into you. Baby tell me you want it. I need to you to fucking say it.”

Hesitation flittered throughout her entire body, but her hips gyrated against his knee insatiably. A wet blotch appeared on his jeans proving just how turned on she was by their entire encounter.

He snarled once more; “Say it and I’m yours.”

“Yes, okay? Are you happy now?”

“Actually, yes. I’m fucking ecstatic.”

Angel’s hands quickly maneuvered towards the button of her pants opening with a resounding snap. His violent tugs involuntarily forced her to reach for Angel’s shoulders as he stripped her off the offending clothing.

“This is the last time. It doesn’t mean shit, A.”

“You keep telling yourself that baby girl.”

Y/N’s shaky hands approached his familiar belt buckle with their well-established routine. With quick work of his zipper, Y/N plunged into his boxers grasping his semi hard dick. In the blink of an eye, Angel shoved her panties aside and forced two fingers willingly inside her. The sensation caused Y/N’s head to crack against the wall as she wailed in pleasure.

She locked her lips with his once again devouring for any semblance of control, but he met her with resistance every inch of the way.

The squelching noise of her pussy was the only sound heard other than their intense breathing. Y/N stimulated him moving faster than before, gripping harshly at his moistened tip. Pre-cum coated his dick as Angel heavily sighed.

In the dim alleyway of some towny bar two people were too lost in each other to notice their surroundings.

“Your wetness tells a different story. Feels like I’m right where I should be.”

“Well then fuck me and fuck me good.”

In a millisecond Angel flipped Y/N jostling her chest now on the cool brick. With her jeans around her ankles, Y/N was fully open to Angel. She pushed her ass against him grinding slowly. Angel’s fingers tangled in her hair before pulling hard leaning her on his shoulder blade. His hand shifted towards his exposed cock as he teased her entrance rubbing against her folds.

“Shit, you’re drenched for a girl indebted on ending things. Ya sure you want this?”

Without any uncertainty, she blindly agreed. Angel placed her hands against the wall to support her. He again circled her accepting hole as Y/N impatiently waited.

“Get the fu---” Before Y/N could finish her sentence, Angel thrusted balls deep inside of her resting his forehead on her shoulder. Her walls securely hugged him unwilling to surrender.

“Ah, ah. If you keep gripping me like that I won’t last. Relax baby.”

Y/N exhaled overwhelmed by the sensations taking ahold of her as Angel lunged inwards. The slapping of skin echoed around the abandoned area. Their moans intermingled into one as each thrust was met with enthusiasm. Angel’s hips slid against hers as his hand wrapped around her throat. His constricted grip blocked her airways causing her eyelids to flutter shut. Fireworks shot off behind her closed lids. His other hand connected with her pulsating clit as he rubbed forceful motions. He had Y/N right where he wanted her all along. He continued to fuck her hard hearing her wails of lust overcome him.

Angel motioned close to her inner ear; “I’m the only one who makes you feel like this.”

Y/N was met with a harsh thrust triggering her to push back against his pelvis. She met him push for prod. The ache in her belly elicited ferocious tremors to erupt within her. She was a woman scorned; someone she didn’t recognize anymore. Y/N was terrified yet excited; two feelings she could no longer differentiate. Angel picked up his pace slamming into her full force.

In his rumbled tone; “This moment. This exact moment of complete bliss… from me to you. This is what I want with you. What I need. What we both desire.”

Her inner walls clenched initiating Angel’s balls to quiver.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“I..I—I’m about to cum.”

Angel’s hand reared back slapping her ass starkly as she tightened around his sensitive cock. He sped up ramming into her repeatedly murmuring incoherently. Her saturated pussy was beyond repair as her orgasm began to surface. Her gritted teeth and clasped walls allowed Angel one final mind-blowing plunge deep into Y/N.

“Shit, Angel. Right there, don’t fucking stop.”

Angel bottomed out within her quaking barriers as he came deep in her womb. Hot spurts shot into her as he succumbed to a heavenly orgasm. His warm cum filled her inner crevices as she unknowingly clamped solidly on his cock. Her walls ached with release as she sporadically came undone. Her right hand stretched back grasping for Angel’s hair as she came down from her high. Angel’s hands guided atop hers intertwining their fingers together as their panted gasps filtered the stuffy air.

“I love you, Y/N. It’s always been you.”

With Angel still inside her, Y/N guided her hips slowly against his exciting her all over again. Angel’s cock vibrated within Y/N as she wholeheartedly embraced him. Ever so slowly, Angel removed himself from her grasp watching in awe as his cum leaked down her inner thighs. Each speedy dribble made his heart soar in astonishment. Y/N pulled her underwear and jeans up covering herself turning towards him.

“Too late. I have to move on. This isn’t healthy.”

“I know.”

She pushed her forehead to rest against his and exhaled; “For what it’s worth…I love you too.”

A bitter smile overcame him as a sense of impending doom encapsulated his very core. She kissed him one last time with every fiber of passion she could muster unwilling to break their kiss first. He kissed her back with just as much passion. They stayed that way for minutes not wanting to disrupt their peaceful bubble. But time was a cruelty as Y/N pulled away.

“I’ll see you around Reyes.”

~~~~~~~

Tags: @twistnet @ifoundmyhappythought @angelreyesgirl89 @carlaangel86 @imagineredwood @gemini0410 @mayans-mc @reaperwalking @prospectfandom @emmaveale123 @peaky-marvel @kind-wolf @scorpio4dayzzz @starrynite7114 @penny4yourthot @breanime @thegirlwhowritesfics @star017 @threeminutesoflife @woahitslucyylu @summertimesadnesswithadashofsass @blessedboo @lady-pswrld @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @carlaangel86 @mayans-mc @claytoncardenasbabymama @angelreyesgirl89 @cocotheclown @trulysuccubus @janeexo @itsjusttaralove @soaronmywings @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @starrynite7114 @hermankopusortizorsumshite @fvckthisbxtchup

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volturialice · 4 years ago

Text

me: i’m not gonna write any more of the drugged!human alice au

also me:

it has a title now too I guess. posting in a huge rush because I was supposed to be out the door ten minutes ago, so it’s even more unbeta’ed than usual. oh well

2,180 words

warnings: drugs, discussion of date rape, vomiting

rating: T

pairings: jalice

part 1 here

perihelion 2/?

It’s hard to tell visions from dreams. Sometimes, Alice doesn’t know which is which until a vision is coming true right in front of her, and then it’s like, okay, too late to do anything about this now. It means all of her dreams are high stakes—any nightmare could become a life-ruining disaster, any good dream could be made or unmade real by some hidden catalyst she doesn’t know about. She’s pretty sure she almost bombed the PSAT because she didn’t wear the blue top she had on in the dream where she scored a 189.

But her inability to tell the difference was never that big of a deal until Forks—until she started dreaming about the Cullens, and Jasper specifically. She wishes she could tell which of the Jasper dreams are real. They’re just so…well, horny. If Alice knew they were visions, and not her subconscious making a complete, desperate idiot of itself, she could be less embarrassed about the whole thing.

Tonight she dreams of Jasper and Rosalie in a room with green walls and shiny wood floors. They’re different in the dream, somehow—more still. Rosalie doesn’t sit. Jasper doesn’t blink.

Between them, an open doorway gapes into darkness. Just visible in the room beyond is the silhouette of a prone figure on a bed, unmoving. They watch it for an uncomfortable amount of time before Rosalie speaks.

“If she were any other human, I would have hunted you for sport, you know.”

“I know,” says Jasper, sounding impossibly old and tired.

“I would be off absolutely wrecking your shit right now, and then I would take care of the liability, because that’s how it works in this family. But she’s…this.” Rosalie grimaces, gesturing to the figure on the bed. “And why was it you told us you were following her, again? To ‘ensure her silence?’ Right,” she scoffs, evidently too disgusted with Jasper to keep looking at him.

“She hasn’t said anything. She won’t.”

“No, she won’t, because you’ll stop her at all costs, will you?”

Jasper’s face doesn’t betray the slightest twitch, but his eyes harden almost imperceptibly. “Not that way.”

Rosalie whirls back around. “You were supposed to be the one person I could count on to do what’s necessary! And now you’re telling me you won’t? Listen to yourself!”

Jasper throws up his hands. “Why are you here, then, Rose? Why are you helping her?”

“I’m helping you, you jackass! I know you all think I’m this narcissistic bitch, but I’m not…not inhumane, okay?” Rosalie levels a contemptuous glance at him, then looks away. “I don’t want some girl to be date-raped, however dangerous she is. And I’m not about to sit by and watch you make a complete mess of things.”

“I appreciate the vote of confidence, but I think that ship may have sailed,” grumbles Jasper.

“I’ll say. I drive up and she’s going on about how you’re stalking her and claiming you’re dating? She should have been killed the moment she figured out what we were, but instead you’re following her around protecting her because of some bizarre psychic connection she claims you have? Make it make sense, Jasper.”

“Edward confirmed her ability is real.”

“Great, so she’s a bigger freak than us. That makes it all ok,” snaps Rosalie, dripping with sarcasm. “Wonderful to know your abysmal taste in women hasn’t altered after all these years.”

Jasper ignores both the jab and the implication. “Earlier you made it sound like you were on her side.”

“I just think you ought to admit what’s really going on here. You won’t let us kill her—fine. It’s utterly irresponsible and stupid, but I can accept that. But it’s not like we can allow her to keep existing out there as a human, knowing what she knows.”

Jasper barks out a humorless, incredulous laugh. “Are you advocating that we should have Carlisle change her? You, Rosalie Hale, want to ‘take away her humanity?’”

Rosalie shrugs. “I’m not saying she wouldn’t be better off dead. But she’s not a very good human, is she? I gather she’s not exactly thriving. They have to pump her full of drugs just to keep her functional, and her human peers still think she’s insane. Be realistic. Her life was over the moment she learned the truth about us.”

Jasper’s only response is a slow shake of his head, like he still can’t believe what he’s hearing.

Rosalie’s eyes narrow. “Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about changing her. Don’t tell me it wasn’t your first thought, when you realized you didn’t want her dead. I may not be the mind reader in the family, but I know that’s a lie.”

It takes Jasper a beat too long to answer. “Of course I’ve thought about it.”

“Not enough, apparently. Right now, we’re in as much danger as she is. If she were one of us…well, her life is already ruined anyway. At least then we’d have her oh-so-special ability on our side. Surely you can see the strategic advantage,” Rosalie rebukes. “Better Carlisle changes her than the Volturi. Has it occurred to you that if they ever find out she exists, the decision will be taken right out of your hands?”

“It’s not in my hands.”

Rosalie rolls her eyes again. “Hers, then.”

He sighs. “The possibility did occur to me.”

“You think she wants to learn Italian and live in a sewer? Eat tourists?”

“I have no idea what she wants.”

Rosalie laughs. “Right, because she’s playing it so close to the vest. She called you a simp. Do you know what that means?”

“We’re not talking about this.”

“Funny how you never want to confide in anyone, yet here we are.”

Jasper’s look says that isn’t what’s going on here, but he doesn’t respond. They settle back into tense silence.

“What are you going to do about the man? The one who drugged her?” asks Rosalie after a while.

“Eliminate him. Quietly.”

Rosalie nods. “Carlisle won’t like it.”

“He doesn’t have to.”

“Can you actually do it, though? Without slipping?”

Jasper doesn’t answer, which is an answer in itself.

“I could do it.” Rosalie’s voice is quiet.

“It’s not your problem.”

“Exactly,” Rosalie insists. “It wouldn’t be a problem for me. If you slip…well, we may not have to move, but you won’t be able to come back to school for months. Going to trust the rest of us to babysit your human?”

“I won’t slip,” says Jasper, but for the first time, he sounds uncertain.

Alice’s dream chooses this moment to blur and shift. Jasper and Rosalie melt away, voices distorting until they’re drowned out by other voices, other sounds and images that crowd in and pull at her, like being tossed around in a rough ocean. They come one after another, too fast to make sense of them—muddy tires, a burst of cut-off music, a slow, dark ooze crawling over pavement, an echoing splash. Familiar red eyes, looking down at her.

Then Alice is awake, and the eyes looking down at her are black. Wait, no. There are no eyes looking down at her. It must have been part of the dream.

She’s lying on something soft—a bed. Above her is a white ceiling. Her head throbs with a confused, cotton-y ache, and her mouth tastes disgusting.

What the hell happened? Alice isn’t great at piecing together chronological sequences at the best of times. She remembers being in Port Angeles…splitting up with Bella in order to meet her friends from the art show at a bar, and then…people talking, her legs sticking to the green leather barstool. The lights getting blurry around the edges, the cool, slippery feel of condensation from the glass in her hand, and…oh. Oh, shit. Jasper.

Jasper had been there. The last thing she can recall is Jasper approaching, his face twisted in rage so murderous that she’d thought, huh, I guess he really is a vampire.

She rolls over and—speak of the devil—there he is, standing kind of a weird distance away, halfway between the bed and the door. He looks far less murderous than she remembers.

“Good morning,” she croaks, struggling into a sitting position. “Um. Where the hell am I?”

“Port Townsend,” says Jasper, which means absolutely nothing to her. She’s only been in Forks a few months—is she seriously supposed to know Washington geography?

To Alice’s immense relief, she’s still fully clothed. She does a surreptitious check to make sure her boobs aren’t falling out of her shirt, and when she looks back up there’s a glass of water in front of her face. She takes it and chugs the whole thing down in a few gulps. Why does she feel so hungover? She had only had, like, two drinks last night. Certainly not enough to make her black out and forget the whole evening. No, this big, empty gap in her memory feels more like when they used to drug her at the hospital. In fact, it feels exactly like that.

Jasper takes the empty glass from her and hands her another full one. He’s still watching her in a way that makes her want to squirm and fidget. Why had he been so angry last night?

She chugs the second glass of water while her sluggish brain tries to add it all up. Angry Jasper plus no memory plus waking up in a bed in a strange place, equals…yikes. Maybe she shouldn’t be drinking whatever he hands her.

“Uh,” she taps her fingers against the empty glass, “why do I feel like I’ve been roofied?”

“Because you were. Here,” says Jasper, handing her something else. Her own phone, somehow fully charged. One new voicemail, from…herself.

Future Alice, this is Past Alice. You’re probably pretty freaked out right now, but it’s okay! Jasper didn’t drug you. I repeat, Jasper did not drug you. Be nice to Rosalie; she’s there to help. Now put the phone down, you’re about to hurl. Bye!

Alice has just enough time to think, Rosalie? before a violent wave of nausea hits and she’s throwing up into the waste bin that appears in front of her face. “Ugh,” says the person holding it, and sure enough, there’s Rosalie.

There’s something extra humiliating about throwing up in front of two vampires, one of whom she kind of has a thing with and the other of whom is his super-hot sister who hates her. Thankfully, her stomach was empty except for the two glasses of water.

Rosalie blurs out of the room—damn, she’s fast—and reappears without the waste bin. It’s weird being on the bed while Rosalie and Jasper are standing, so Alice gets to her feet, already feeling way better. “Whose house is this?” she asks.

“Mine,” says Rosalie, practically shooting laser beams of resentment from her eyes.

“You wouldn’t let us take you home or to the hospital,” explains Jasper. “This is Rosalie and Emmett’s beach cottage.”

“Cottage” seems like the wrong word for this place, now that Alice gets a look at it. It has eight- or nine-foot ceilings and the view out the window—a vast, gray body of water that might be the ocean or some kind of bay—looks like a default computer desktop.

“Oh. So, then…someone else drugged me last night?” She tries to remember who she was talking to before Jasper came over, but she’d talked to so many people at the bar that they all kind of blur together in her head.

Jasper nods.

“Like we’d ever need to drug you,” says Rosalie. Oh, right. Vampires.

“So you just…watched me sleep?”

“Yeah, it was riveting. I had no idea snoring like a lawnmower was a side effect of rohypnol.”

So Alice was supposed to be nice to Rosalie, huh? Easier said than fucking done.

Something pushes at the back of her mind—Rosalie and Jasper watching her sleep. She, Alice, had watched them watching her sleep—from outside her own body. A vision, then, and not a dream.

She tries to remember the rest of it on the drive back to Forks, staring out the back window of Rosalie’s BMW like a kid with the two vampires up front. There had been something else in the vision, something besides the disjointed set of images. Jasper and Rosalie had talked about her, about whether or not she should be a vampire. She sneaks a glance at Jasper in the car mirror, at his downcast, shadowed eyes. Had he ever actually said whether he wanted Alice to be a vampire or not?

His eyes snap up to meet hers in the mirror, so suddenly she almost jumps. Alice looks away, guilty for no real reason. The vision, think about the vision.

There had been something else in it: a plan. They were going to…something. Something about slipping, something Rosalie thought she could do better than Jasper…

Right. They were going to kill someone.

rosalie @ human bella: noooo don’t become a vampire you’re so fertile aha

rosalie @ human alice: yeah nobody’s impregnating this little gremlin. bite away

#twilight fanfiction #jalice #jasper hale #alice cullen #rosalie hale #fic: mine #drugs //#date rape mention //#vomiting //#perihelion tag

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mable-stitchpunk · 4 years ago

Text

Tag Along

“This thing reeks.”

“Yeah, I smell it too.”

“...Let’s go see if he can smell it too.”

Andrew had an especially mischievous tone in his voice. Jake was a little less amused by the idea, but he did agree in showing it to their friend. If anyone would know what this little bear was, and why it had a speaker in its chest, he would.

It was just another toy found in the garbage, but this one seemed a little special somehow. Though they hadn’t noticed until they brought it back to the warehouse. It was a small teddy bear soaked in nasty smelling water and spilling moldy cotton out of tears in its body. The metal speaker in its belly showed that it was more than a simple toy though.

The Stitchwraith walked to the back of the warehouse where they found their friend waiting like he always was. They showed the torn-up toy to the much more intact, but equally old, plush toy. Showing no expression, like he usually didn’t, he emphasized his feelings through voice alone.

“Ugh. Where did you find that thing?”

“We just bought it from a toy store. Where do you think we got it? The dump.”

“Looks like it should’ve stayed there,” he quipped with disgust. “Looooks like a Tag-Along Freddy.”

“So, you know what this is.” “...THIS is a Tag-Along Freddy?!”

There was a pause as the two voices quieted to process what each other said.

“Wait, you know what this is too?” Jake asked in surprise. “Why didn’t you say something earlier?”

“I’ve never seen one or anything, I just heard about them. Get this: there was this kid who had one and it told him to jump off a cliff, and he did.”

There was a doubtful pause between half of the Stitchwraith and the haunted plush.

“Trust me, it happened. It’s a long story.”

“O-kay... So, what’s a Tag-Along Freddy? Just some sort of toy that talks?” Jake asked the plush, more confident in his answers.

“They were just little dolls that lazy parents gave their kids to babysit them. They could talk and had a little camera in them to tattle on what they did. They were connected with those security bracelet things- ask me sometime to tell you about the Puppet. I don’t feel like it now.”

“They just left this to watch their kids?” Jake lifted up the rancid doll and stared at it with scrutiny. It didn’t look like it would be much of a babysitter, even if it was just supposed to sit in a room and record a child’s movements. “Huh... Okay.”

“Until it all went wrong,” Andrew began in a theatrically cryptic voice.

“Andrew...”

“Come on. You know you want to hear this.”

Jake expected that he wasn’t going to believe the story and from their friend’s groan it didn’t seem like he was looking forward to it either... Though Andrew was right in the sense that he was curious. He caved. “What’s the story?”

“Once there was this kid who got the Tag-Along Freddy doll. He loved this doll and took it everywhere with him, but then one day he disappeared. They looked for him all over but couldn’t find him. Days later, they found the Freddy at the bottom of the cliffs outside of town and when they checked the recordings they could hear Freddy telling the kid to jump off the cliff- and he did!... But they never found the body. All that was left was the doll, and that final recording telling him to jump.”

“Oh...” Jake wasn’t sure if he believed it. Their friend was surprisingly silent.

“But the weirdest part? The recording wasn’t in Freddy’s voice...” Andrew’s arm took the bear from Jake’s and raised it up, slowly inching it towards their shared mask. “It was in the voice... Of his dead grandmother...” The doll sat in front of their view to emphasize the reveal. It was followed by a long pause. “...Or maybe his dead dad. Or mom. I can’t remember who, it was just someone dead.”

“That still doesn’t explain why he would jump. I loved my dad, but I don’t think I would’ve jumped off a cliff unless there was something at the bottom to catch me,” Jake rationalized.

“It’s because little kids are too dumb to think for themselves. They’d throw themselves off a cliff for a piece of candy- or go with a stranger as long as he was dressed up like their favorite character. They’re worthless.”

That tone took both sides of the Stitchwraith completely off-guard. It was so cold and aggressive, like it was actually offended by the story. Then a strange feeling of twitching heat started to spread through their body and Jake realized that this was not going to go well.

“Maybe if some of those lazy parents were watching their kids, they wouldn’t get a chance to go wandering off with strangers. Or maybe they’d no not to go do stupid things. It’s not the kids’ fault, it’s their worthless parents’,” Andrew hissed. It was clear that he was only barely holding back his feelings.

Now, at this point Jake knew exactly why Andrew was upset, what with his past. Unfortunately, this past had not been related to their third friend, who seemed almost oblivious to the shift in mood, and he kept digging that hole.

“I’m not going to argue with you. Parents who think that a little, tiny doll is going to protect their kids deserve to have their kids taken away, but the kids always walk into it. They always walk away and leave themselves open to whatever’s out there. They walk themselves off the cliff because they’re too stupid to look down.”

“I think you’re stupid,” Andrew said unwittingly. This must’ve caught their friend off-guard because normally he would’ve pounced on a comment that childish. Andrew followed up quickly, “If you’re going to say some little kid is responsible for itself at all then you’re either a complete idiot or you’ve never seen or been a kid.”

“Guys,” Jake warned.

“You just told me that lame story about the kid jumping off a cliff because his toy told him to. You can’t act like that’s a smart kid. That’s an especially dense kid.”

“That’s like a three year old! What do you expect?!” Andrew lashed out. “How are they supposed to know better?! It’s a talking toy! Those kids still believe in Santa Claus, of course they’re going to trust a toy!”

”But they don’t just trust toys, do they? They trust anything offering to butter them up with candy. They’re greedy, they’ll go with a stranger in a heartbeat and then wonder why oh why it hurts so badly when they do.”

“What- Where- Where did that even COME from?! You’re talking about kidnapped kids- Are you really going to sit there and tell me it’s not the maniac who kidnapped them’s fault, but it’s the kids’ fault they died?!”

The Stitchwraith now stood dangerously tall over the unseeing plush toy. Its body, especially its one arm, were twitching violently as it stared down in half-hearted anger. The plush didn’t move, but it decided to answer.

For some reason he chose the worst possible answer.

“...Yes.”

The Stitchwraith shrieked and Andrew reached for the toy, only for his arm to get caught by Jake, who forcibly turned their body away from the doll. He desperately tried to defuse the situation.

“Would you guys stop? It’s just a story! It’s not even real!” Jake protested. “Andrew, please-!”

Suddenly Andrew got control and turned them around, snatching up the doll and hoisting it up threateningly. His fingers dug into his neck.

“TAKE THAT BACK!” Andrew yelled. He shook the doll aggressively. “TAKE IT BACK, NOW!”

“I think you’re taking this a little too personally. I didn’t say you were stupid. You said I was stupid.”

“YOU ARE!”

“Guys, would you two just stop?!” Jake yelled. He began to fight Andrew for the plush again. “Andrew, he’s not talking about you! He doesn’t know about what happened!”

“...This whole thing wasn’t a long way of telling me that you were the kid that jumped off the cliff, was it? Because if it was, whoops.”

Andrew gave another frustrated cry and threw the plush down on the shelf. He turned his back on it and tightly balled his fist- as much as he could- in steaming anger. Jake patted his arm comfortingly, silently assuring him that he did the right thing. Then, after a moment to calm, he turned his head and spoke.

“You shouldn’t say things like that. You don’t understand what those kids go through... That’s what happened to Andrew.”

“Ugh, just don’t...” Andrew hissed.

“It wasn’t his fault that he was attacked. That wasn’t any of those kids’ fault. Even if they knew better, who’s to say they could’ve stopped it?”

There was a long and very uncomfortable pause. Andrew ran his hand over his side of the mask as Jake stood there awkwardly, feeling the tension in the room. When all of a sudden-

“Was it a man in a rabbit suit?”

The question took them both off guard. The Stitchwraith looked back at the doll, laying on its side with its back facing them. It hadn’t budged from where it had fallen, as expected. Though that was the only thing expected by the moment.

“...Uh...” Jake started awkwardly.

“No,” Andrew said suspiciously. “...Why?”

There was a long moment of silence where they waited for an answer that never came. Instead, the voice from the plush suddenly changed tone.

“I’m sorry, Andy. You know I don’t think you’re stupid, or that it’s your fault you’re. If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think you’d ever walk off a cliff on purpose,” he assured soothingly, as though talking down a wild animal. “...I just get mad sometimes.”

“Mad?”

“At things. Maybe I say things I shouldn’t. When you’re stuck in a little toy like I am, sometimes you don’t have much control over what you say. It just comes out, but I shouldn’t take it out on you. You two are my best friends. I don’t think you’re stupid, I think you’re both fascinating.”

Jake could feel Andrew calming down a little, but could tell that he was still upset. Which was probably why he kept trying to pull their body’s gaze away from the toy.

“Forgive me?”

Now on the spot, less than amused by the pleading tone, Andrew gave a huff- which came out of the Stitchwraith sounding more like sizzling.

“Whatever,” he snapped. He then looked down at the bear on the floor and picked it up. “Jake, can we do something about this thing? I’m tired of looking at it.”

“Sure. Let’s just go put it on the shelf with the others.”

Both were glad to get an excuse to walk away from the toy, leaving it to sit there silently in the corner. They headed to their specific shelf for plush toys and laid it down amongst the others, staring at it for a long moment. The lifeless bear stared back blankly. Something about it now made them both uncomfortable in a new way.

“Hey, Andrew?” Jake asked quietly.

“Yeah?”

“It was a toy telephone and his dead grandmother told him to drown himself in the pool.”

Andrew paused a long moment before asking in incredulously, “THAT’S his story? Geez, no wonder he’s mad.”

“No, not that. It’s an episode of Twilight Zone. Ring any bells?”

“Oh...” A long moment of realization washed over him. “...Maybe I don’t remember things as good as I used to.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Jake said with a touch of good-natured amusement in his voice. “You good?”

“Just peachy. Let’s never talk about this again.”

They never did.

#FNAF #The Stitchwraith #Andrew #Jake #The Plush #Fazbear Frights?#Going Home in a Box

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fandom-necromancer · 4 years ago

Text

A common misconception 2

This was prompted by an amazing anon! Enjoy!

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Reed900 + Tina/ST300 [part1]

Ever since Fowler had told him, Gavin noticed it. People grinning at each other whenever they saw him around Tina, whistling after them and cracking jokes. It was difficult to imagine he had never noticed it before really. Maybe he had really been just that oblivious not to make the connection. To him Tina could have never been more than just the best friend imaginable. Well, something had to change.

‘Are you ready for stage two?’, Gavin asked as he headed back from the breakroom to his desk after a simple talk with Tina had ended up in countless weird reactions again. ‘Excuse me?’, Nines asked, looking thoroughly confused. ‘Stage two. For our relationship.’ ‘Gavin, we are at work, I thought you wanted to keep it private and stay professional.’ ‘Well, let me tell you one thing’, Gavin sighed and sat down on Nines’ desk leaning forwards. ‘Fowler mistook me and Tina for being a couple. Apparently so did the whole precinct and Hank and Perkins even complained about it!’ Nines looked at him, trying to find out whether he was serious. Then he laughed loudly. ‘You and Tina? Damn. And I thought a key requirement for being a police officer was having eyes and a brain!’ ‘Well, apparently not’, Gavin grumbled.

‘Alright then, what does stage two entail?’, Nines asked, showing his agreement by leaning forwards, too. ‘Going all out.’ ‘What?’ ‘I mean... We have to show them their mistakes...’ Gavin tried to wink at Nines. ‘I won’t be having sex with you in any room of the precinct. First off, I don’t want to and second, all rooms except the bathroom have cameras.’ ‘Nines! Nines, stop!’, Gavin hurried to make the android shut up. ‘I don’t want to have sex with you in the workplace. I believe that would have us fired on the spot. How did you even...’ ‘You said “going all out”.’ ‘Okay, maybe not all out. Okay, so, here is the plan!’

Connor had to do a double take as he watched Nines enter the precinct with a small bouquet of roses in a vase. By the time he had passed the security gates all eyes were focussed on him. Nines in turn ignored everyone, walked over to his desk and put the flowers down on Gavin’s table. Oh, this had to be some sort of prank. That was new, but not unexpected. What was however, was Gavin smiling and half rising from his chair to kiss Nines. On the lips. Without cursing or hitting him or promising him a violent death. That... that shouldn’t be possible. Nines and Gavin sat back down on their respective chairs and began working – the unspoken signal for everyone to avert their shocked faces and quietly start gossiping after a few moments. Most of the day was quiet. The fact itself weird. Normally Gavin and Nines would have been at each other’s throat at least once already because of some minor disagreement. Now they just worked away, occasionally asking for something, adding more and more ridiculous pet names at the end. It was almost disgusting if the rest of the bullpen had believed a second of what they saw.

But the next day came and Nines surprised Gavin with a massage during his break. Then Gavin brought the android thirium replenishments. When passing the other to get some copies, there always was at least one lingering touch and kisses. A lot of them. Over the course of the week it finally dawned on the others that this couldn’t be faked. Not by them and not for so long. Was Gavin truly in a relationship with Nines? What about Tina? Oh... By Friday evening, Tina looked furious. Everyone stayed late, hoping to witness drama unfold like only a shitty TV program could deliver normally.

They hadn’t waited pointlessly as Tina stood up, her rolling chair colliding with the desk behind her. She stomped over to the pair and slammed her hands on their desks, one each. ‘Can you two fucktards understand what you are making me go through?’, she screamed, keeping the audience they had gathered on the edge of their seats. ‘Do you understand? My girlfriend is swooning over you two acting all lovey dovey all the time! She even asked me why I never bring her flowers for work! Do you know how fucking expensive real flowers are these days? Do you know that? God, I love her just as much as you love each other, but fuck me, keep it at home, will you?’

The rest of the DPD’s finest now were looking wide-eyed and open-mouthed at the three. No one could really catch on with the speed the events were unfolding at. They could only stare as Gavin grinned at her, then stood up and held out his arms. ‘That’s what we’ve been doing until these idiots though you and I were a couple. I thought it was time to correct that.’ Tina froze, trying to process. ‘They thought... that we... What?’ ‘Exactly.’ She turned around and eyed the by now embarrassed crowd. ‘Okay, now listen here you hetero fucking assholes, a girl spends a lifetime swooning over buff women and this is how you thank me? Now come and listen to...’

‘Do you think letting Tina’s wrath loose on them was the right plan?’, Nines whispered, while Tina gave a speech worthy of a more interested and less afraid audience. ‘Of course’, Gavin shrugged, taking a sip from his newest heart-shaped mug. ‘She will teach them a lesson they won’t ever forget. And we can go back to normal.’ Nines smiled. ‘Sometimes I do admire your ways of thinking, darling.’

#detroit become human #dbh #Reed900 #RK900 #Gavin Reed #Tina/ST300 #ST300/Tina #Tina Chen #I love their shennanigans #Tina is a secret weapon let's be honest #sorry for the late upload I just came home

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amariaamaris · 4 years ago

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Of Realm Travel and Mishaps

I decided to actually write my idea, I hope that you enjoy!

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Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker, general to the 501st is highly agitated and there is no hiding it. First he was brought into the Jedi order as a child (willingly), then he went through training with Obi-Wan, Senator Amidala had her life threatened, then the first battle of the Clone Wars, all the battles, deaths, and betrayals after that. The Jedi Order forcing him to take Padawan Tano on, which he grew to love and see as a little sister. He didn’t even want to think of the shit show with the father, daughter, and son. Followed by the order betraying the both of them and Snips - Ahsoka Tano - walking away. More battles, more fighting, more deaths... Anakin just wanted it to end, all the men he lost, his Padawan, the separation from his wife; who is now pregnant. Now this the counsel giving him a seat only to deny him the rank of master.

“This is outrageous, it’s unfair... how can you be on the council and not be a master?” Anakin wished that he would allow himself to say more, but he kept himself just barely censored. Even as his resentment anger boiled beneath the surface of his skin like magma. “Take a seat, young Skywalker.” He barely stops himself from violently lashing out at Mace Windu. Feeling as though his mouth is full of cotton and his tongue weighed down by lead. Knowing that more and more when he stands in front of the Council, all he feels is disgust.

Anakin using all of his willpower practically spits out his next words as he takes a seat. “Forgive me master.” Right as the council moves to start their next order of business... well lets just say that something strange happened. A rip seems to happen in the air of the atmosphere. Then for a split second the very air is sucked out of the room, straight to where the rip is. With an almost audible popping sound; a young woman with extremely wild curly hair is thrown out tumbling head over arse onto the floor. While the whole of the Jedi Council gapped in shock at what they just witnessed.

They all silently watched as the woman gives a soft groan and slowly heaves herself to her feet. “Oh, bloody hell.” They can barely make out her muttered words as she rubs her pounding head with one hand. Hermione slowly looks around the architecture of the room and furrows her brows. “This can’t be right...” She starts to fiddle with the golden time turner in her hands that seems to have some sort of wispy atmosphere in it. “My calculation had to have been off. I did all the research required, I know that this was meant to help me find...”

The woman starts muttering as she fiddles with the time turner. Everyone in the room is blinking at her, trying to figure out what to do with a woman that just got spit out of some sort of rip in space. Obi-Wan, finally finding his voice and ever the diplomat. “Excuse me miss, who are you?” Barely stopping in her muttering glances up at them, then looks back down at time turner. When the realization sinks in, Hermione freezes. Slowly she looks up and really takes the time to study the room.

Her eyes widen in shock as some sort of wispy light dances around her and seems to caress her. Then the realization seems to sink in and much to the councils embracement she lets loose a string of very colorful curses before finally seeming to settle one (that the council actually understood). “Fuck... This is bad!”

Yoda finally speaks up, since the rest of the council seems to be recovering from her colorful language. “Lost are you?” Hermione having gone back to fiddling with the time turner, doesn’t look up as she responds. “No no no... I am going to kill Harry, Ron, the twins, Draco, Zabini, Nott, and Sirius Black when I get my hands on them. I might just throw in Severus for the shits and giggles of it.” She stops fiddling with the time turner allowing it to land on her chest and hang from the chain. “I don’t have time for this. I need space, I need to think, I need more information. I’m just going to go.”

Then without further ado, she whirls around and walks right out of the door. Letting it close behind her, not caring for who they are and what they are thinking. Shaak Ti speaks up from her seat on the council, “Fascinating.” Mace Windu finally seeming to lose his temper lets out and aggravated breath. “Now wait a damn minute. We’re letting that random woman leave when she just appeared out of nowhere, with no explanation?”

Obi-Wan and Anakin look at each other, silently communicating in a way that only a master and padawan can. “We can gather a small group of our men to go and find her, to get some real answers from her.” Obi-Wan waits a few moments for any response to his offer, when finally there is a collective, but silent agreeance to his words.

As one, Anakin and Obi-Wan stand up and leave the room, but when the doors close behind them; there is no sign of the woman anywhere. Anakin gets on the coms getting a group of ten of his men to start look for the woman. Obi-Wan does the same and they split off. Both of them going different directions, hoping that they may be able to corner her. Anakin’s last thought before he focuses on the task at hand is how much he wishes that Ahsoka and Rex could be there to help (cracking jokes while working on whatever mission they were given).

----

Hermione, knew that she couldn’t just stay outside of the chambers she just left. She knew she had to figure out what went wrong or rather... what went horribly right. First, she had to get far far away, eventually those idiots were going to break out of the stupor. Hermione wanted to be as far away as she could when they did. Even though a big part of her was doubting that any of this worked, she could still feel the ley lines. She was still connected to them, as she watched waves of pure light dance around her. Hermione, once again gave herself over to them.

“Take me to him, if I am right and he is here. Please, please take me to him.” Hermione felt the leys react to her plea and before she knew it, she felt a soft pull and the feeling of moving very very fast. Hermione found herself standing outside of what looked to be a cell. Immediately she felt her stomach drop, “No...” the word barely had enough breath backing it to make a sound... but it was there.

Looking through the strange energy screen, she could see Sirius, curled up in the corner. His body in the tightest ball she thinks that she has ever seen. “Sirius,” No reaction, not even a twitch. Hermione bites her lips and studies the cell screen, looking for any sort of weak part. The moment she finds it Hermione starts to gather the lay lines to her. They come willingly to their mistresses call. Then without a moment of hesitation she slashed her arms toward the weak part. The whole gridding to the cell collapsed in, Hermione softy smiled and softly caressed the ley lines in silent thanks. Carefully they brushed against her cheeks and settled into their natural flows.

Sirius still gave not reaction to what was going on around him. Hermione sprinted forward and dropped to her knees. She studied Sirius as she checked him over for any wounds, carefully she reached out and softy touched him. “Sirius? Sirius... it’s me, it’s Hermione.” Still no reaction not even a twitch even though he was breathing, he was just staring at the wall.

Softly, oh so softly, Hermione slowly moved Sirius to that she could face his body towards her. She cupped his face in her hands and started to lightly tap his cheeks. “Sirius, come back to me. Come back to the land of the living, come on. Sirius, it’s Hermione...” Still nothing, Hermione sighs and bites her lips as she slowly looks around.

She hears Sirius make a small noise and then, she hears a rough raspy voice. “Kitten?” Hermione’s eyes widen and she whips her head to look at Sirius. “Sirius!” She watches as he quickly blinks then he reaches his shaking hands up and carefully touches Hermione’s face. “What are you doing here Kitten, you shouldn’t be here.”

Hermione gives Sirius an exhausted smile, “There’s a lot you need to be caught up on... I thought that it was obvious, I’m here to raise hell on the assholes who had the audacity to throw you in a cell. I’m also here to rescue you. So, care to help me with a little jail break padfoot?”

Sirius stares at Hermione blankly for a split second before his brain caught up. Hermione watches with satisfaction as a decidedly Black wicked grin spreads across his face. “Oh, kitten why didn’t you just start with that!” Hermione gives an excited grin back to Sirius and start to lead him out of the cell and down to the controls. “What did the leaders of this society do to you kitten?”

Hermione allows herself a few moments to let the tension grow before she speaks. “For one they tossed you into a jail cell for no reason and two... they are completely and utter idiots. Don’t try me padfoot! I can tell from your eyes that they just threw you in a call without a trial. You didn’t deserve that the first time and you sure as hell didn’t deserve it this time.” Sirius takes a moment to study Hermione, then gives a soft smile. “You’ve grown up a lot kitten... I especially love your newly found vindictive side.”

Hermione gives a wicked grin in response, “I hope you still remember how to turn into padfoot.” and pulls the level to let every... single... prisoner... out.

All hell proceed to break loose.

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I’m so excited! the little chat I did for this inspired me (don’t worry I haven’t forgotten about my other works), so I had to write something. I already have the second part halfway planned. Let me know what you think! As always, constructive criticism is welcome! Peace, love, and joy!

#hermione granger #sirius black #harry potter epilogue what epilogue #star wars #star wars the clone wars #yoda #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #mace windu #shaak ti #crossover #jail break #light flirting #hermione granger is done with peoples shit #non canon

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olligreen · 4 years ago

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No Bad Student | 4 -- On The Head

Pairing: Lawrusso (Daniel x Johnny) Genre: Angst Warnings: Anxiety, one mention of blood Word count: 1350 Summary: KK2 AU in which Johnny ends up living with Miyagi and Daniel for the summer. Inspired by nadianecromancer’s comic, but I’ll try to avoid making any scenes similar to the ones they already did! Notes: This was originally posted on Ao3 here.

First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

“Daniel-san. Move bed inside, work there.”

“What? You’re giving me work when he was the one who--”

“Go!” Miyagi shouted harshly.

After making a final, silent complaint, Daniel stomped off toward the house. He dragged the unassembled parts inside quickly since every second he spent in sight range of that prick was torture. At least he’d be gone soon, once his car was fixed. Then he’d have no reason to even look in his direction again, and their paths would diverge permanently. It couldn’t come fast enough.

The wood planks made a satisfying noise as they settled on the ground. Maybe it would help to get his mind off of everything. Hitting something with a hammer did seem pretty appealing at the moment after all. He knelt beside two of the larger pieces, taking a nail between his fingers, driving it in a half-inch, then, with one swift motion, sinking it fully into the wood, connecting the planks tightly. He grinned, satisfied.

But even as he continued working he couldn’t help but be distracted by thoughts he didn’t enact. He recalled Ali’s face when she left, disgusted, disappointed as if it was his fault she wrecked his car and ran off with some football player. Maybe she got sick of being with a Reseda kid. Maybe her parents finally got to her. Maybe he was always just some ploy to get back at Johnny. He diverted the blame in all directions but inward, his mind busy elsewhere as he brought the hammer down on an unfastened nail. Before he had time to stop himself, it flew off, rolling across the floor and smacking against the far wall. He sighed in frustration, glaring at the empty hole.

Daniel continued as if he had not been interrupted, but the work was slower, rife with mistakes. A nail tumbled, rolling in a wide circle as he thought of what Miyagi said on the ride home: Johnny’s problem wasn’t a car problem. What kind of problem was it, then? And why do Johnny’s problems suddenly seem to matter more than his? As the origin of the questions became clearer, he shut them out. There was a deep, visceral fear under it he didn’t want to look at, but the more he pushed it away the more it presented itself to him in all it’s grotesque ideation. What if he was being replaced? He silenced his mind’s voice with a chorus of other thoughts, rejecting the idea as asinine, which, of course, it was, but he certainly wasn’t kind to himself about it. How could he betray Mr. Miyagi, thinking like that, after everything he’s done for him? He would never do that. Don’t be such an idiot, he thought, his mind’s voice as violent as Johnny himself.

These thoughts did nothing to stop his eyes from welling up with tears, which he swept up promptly as they fell, but did so as gently as he could. After all, if Miyagi saw him all puffy-eyed from this, wouldn’t he blame himself? The thought of it only made things worse, and, through his blurry gaze, he swung the hammer and just barely missed his thumb. He stopped, staring for a moment as the shock went through him. It wasn’t pleasant, but it was a decent way to break him out of his cycle of thought, and so, once it passed, he continued working.

A few minutes passed, and he heard a door creak behind him. He whipped his head around, but saw no one enter, though his heart still thumped loudly in the silence that followed. The fear was promptly quelled by the muffled sound of a door swinging closed beyond the safety of the walls. He sighed in relief, watching for another moment before turning back around.

How was it that such a simple thing was causing him so much dread? It was just a bedframe, a simple structure that he’d seen Miyagi work on without a shred of discomfort. He wiped the remaining tears from his face, looking at the little he’d accomplished with shame in his heart. He thought back to what Miyagi told him the day everything began to fall apart. He was desperate for this feeling to perish.

His hands drifted together at his chest, then pushed upwards, his pained eyes closing. He brought in a slow, steady breath, focused on the feeling of it entering his lungs, then, just as smoothly, passing back out into the room. Once the process started, his hands seemed to move by themselves, their speed managed by the cycle's current. When his tense shoulders relaxed, his eyes fluttered open, like he was stirring from sleep. Nothing had changed, but the scene felt different regardless. His grin returned. His mind was clear, and he was ready to finish this.

But as soon as he lifted the first nail, his mind produced another image and his facade began to crumble. He continued, keeping his breathing steady as he got a few nails in, but with each, it seemed another image of him took over his mind. That look in his eyes, the unrelenting glare, or devilish smirk, the fear he felt when he towered over him -- it wouldn’t leave. Why did it hurt so much to think of him? Why did it hurt the same to stop? Why did his presence take away all the control he had over his own mind? The questions hung unanswered as his body seized up in frustration, rageful tears rolling down his face. The feeling of the hammer in his hand grew distasteful like it was some mark of his success over him. His sense lapsed for a moment and he threw it down. It crashed into the nail box, then smacked and slid loudly onto the floor, displaced nails scattering around it. Then, after all the cacophony, the only sound left was his own muffled whimpering that echoed against the walls.

He couldn’t pretend he was fine forever. His mind was holding onto Johnny, no matter how painful it was, and the feeling was eating him up inside. It wouldn’t be so bad if he understood where it was coming from. It was so inescapably nebulous and it terrified him to no end.

Then, at the very worst moment, Johnny walked into the room.

Daniel turned toward the nearest wall without even checking who it was; either way, it was no one he wanted to face like this. He gathered the nails without looking up, focused fully on stealthily drying his eyes and forcing back any noise that would give him away.

Johnny, meanwhile, had no intention to look at Daniel anyway. Instead, he moved to the very far corner of the room, set down the bedroll Miyagi had given him, untied the thing with some struggle, and unfurled it.

Daniel’s curiosity eventually outstretched his fear, and his eyes made a quick journey in Johnny’s direction. To see the man in person after all of this was odd. He carried no evil grin or hateful glare, in fact, he looked nearly as solemn as Daniel did. Only after a few moments did his eyes move to the bedroll. His brows furrowed.

“What’re you doin’?” His voice was slightly shakier than he expected it to be.

Johnny looked up but didn’t keep looking as he usually did, his gaze staying downward as he tried to keep the thing from curling up at the corners. “Setting up this… bed… mat thing.”

Daniel watched for another few seconds, hoping for further explanation. He got none. “Why?”

“I uh… I gotta stay here tonight.”

His brows shot up in surprise, but he stayed silent, unable to properly respond.

“Just tonight… Hopefully.”

“Hopefully?” He managed to squeak out. “You mean you might--”

“Look, I know you don’t want me here. I get it. It won’t be long.” Johnny said sternly. He glared, but not at Daniel, just at the floor.

Daniel moved his gaze, keeping it trained on his unfinished project. “Alright.” He said, just louder than a whisper, and then lifted a nail.

First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

#karate kid fanfiction #cobra kai fanfic #lawrusso fanfiction #lawrusso #karate kid pt ii #karate kid au

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artificialqueens · 5 years ago

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Take You for a Ride (Crystal x Gigi) - Catrina

A/N: hi! it’s been a long while since i posted here. my mental health had a lot to do with that, but here i am again, hopefully as a better writter lmao. apparently i’m obsessed with gigi and crystal and since it’s still crystal’s birthday here i wrote this inspired by dua lipa’s levitating (thanks gigi’s performance at wtw tour). hope you enjoy it and share your thoughts with me. thanks for reading!

Summary: It’s Crystal’s birthday, and nothing comes out as she expects.

Disappointment. That’s the definition of Crystal’s day.

Disappointment and alcohol… maybe some red velvet cake Jan bought for her. She tastes the bitter liquid and sweet frosting in her mouth as she stumbles in her way to the backyard of Jaida’s house.

She’s sick. Sick and tired, of both the party behind her and her day in general. It had really worn her off, first with her teacher grading her project with a humiliating score of 67 points out of 100, then the ridiculous fight with her mother over the phone (she can still listen to the woman screaming at her if she focuses enough) and her cat destroying her One Direction album with her small and deathly paws, and now — oh fucking now, with some idiot pouring their drink all over her dress in a party that she didn’t even want to attend, or happen for that matter.

This isn’t how her birthday is supposed to be. This isn’t even how any birthday is supposed to be, in fact. Crystal doesn’t get how Jan could get to the conclusion that a party at Jaida’s house would make her feel better.

“It’ll be fun!” Jan had said. “You deserve to celebrate your birthday. I’m sure it’ll improve your mood!”

Spoiler: it didn’t.

Crystal feels just as miserable as she would feel in her dorm. Being in bed and watching bad tv was her original plan for today. Was too much to ask for? Why did she let her friends drag her to a party full of people she doesn’t even know?

Right, because Jan and Jaida had made her puppy eyes and Crystal felt terrible for rejecting such a gentle and thoughtful gesture from her friends.

She groans, sitting down on the grass of Jaida’s backyard and rubbing a tissue over the huge stain in the blue fabric of the area over her chest, groaning again when she realizes the stain isn’t moving at all.

Perhaps more miserable.

It’s a sequin blue dress she had purchased a while ago. It wasn’t really expensive, and it isn’t even her favorite, but fuck, it hurts. It’s like today everything in the universe accorded to make her feel terrible. She usually would shrug it off and continue as if nothing has happened, and she can’t quite understand why her natural sense of positivity can’t wash the sadness away.

Giving up, she tosses the tissue to a side and lets the upper part of her body give up to lie down completely on the grass. She’s lucky everyone else is inside, enjoying the music so loud it makes the whole house pound in rhythm, the intermittent lights that must hurt their eyes, the colorful drinks served by Jan and the closeness of dancing bodies rubbing against each other, so she doesn’t have to worry about someone going out and seeing her throwing a tantrum.

The party is a success. She shouldn’t ruin it with her bitter existence.

The sky is quiet tonight, with some stray stars and the moon shining bright. It makes Crystal breathe heavily, over and over again, until she’s sure she’ll be okay.

But, as her breathing regulates, imagines of every earlier moment when she felt everything but okay flash through her mind, and her lungs are not cooperating anymore.

Her heart feels heavy, stupidly hurt. She knows tomorrow her terrible grade will still be there, and her mother will still be pissed at her for whatever she even got mad about, and her favorite album will remained ruined and her fucking dress won’t be wearable anymore, and it’s fine, because she can make work for extra points to improve her final grade and text her mom an apology and replace the material stuff that isn’t even that important whatsoever, but that won’t help her stop feeling so helpless.

Helpless — that’s a good definition for her.

“Crystal?”

Gigi Goode looking down at Crystal interrupts her pathetic thoughts.

More than the interruption, her mere presence is what makes Crystal blink twice and wonder, for a brief moment, if she fell asleep on Jaida’s backyard grass and she’s dreaming.

She’s used to see Gigi everyday, but since today has been a short taste of hell, it wasn’t surprising when Gigi texted her to say she had to miss part of her classes and Jaida’s party because she needed to find someone to fix the broken temperature system in her apartment.

She hasn’t come to terms of how she feels about Gigi yet, and it’s not something she would like to do at all. For the past two months, Crystal has noticed the way her heart starts pounding violently in her chest when Gigi smiles at her, or takes her hand to lead her through the corridors or when she simply looks at her with those big eyes full of emotion and it’s ridiculous but somehow fitting that the only person she craved to see today was the one she couldn’t.

“What are you doing here?” Gigi tries again at her lack of response, not hesitating to offer her hand to help her up.

Crystal takes her hand without thinking (she doesn’t do a lot of thinking in Gigi’s presence) and lets her pull her up in a sitting position.

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking what are you doing here? I thought said your temperature system was giving trouble.”

Gigi chuckles, crouching to be at the same height as her.

“Well, I really wanted to come and Heidi said she could manage it. The girl knows about mechanics, did you know that?”

Crystal shakes her head, breathing out a laugh. “I never would’ve guessed.”

Gigi hums thoughtfully. “Well, she does, thank fuck, because I really wanted to see you, birthday girl.”

Heat creeps up to Crystal’s face incredibly fast, leaving her cursing the power something so small can have over her.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I asked Jan where you were, actually. She said some dickhead poured all his drink on you and you were probably in the bathroom but you weren’t there.”

Crystal opens her mouth to vent about her now ruined dress, frowning as soon as a different thought crosses her mind. “But there are like five bathrooms here. You went all around the house looking for me?”

Confused, Gigi nods. “Is that weird?”

It’s extremely sweet, is Crystal’s first answer.

“No, of course not,” she giggles instead. “But why were you looking for me?”

Gigi looks suddenly flushed, as if she was caught doing something she shouldn’t.

“Well, I…” she tears her eyes away from Crystal to look at the party behind her through the glass doors. “What happened to you?”

The change of topic takes Crystal aback.

“What? What about me?”

“Yeah, you’re here all alone, looking like a child who dropped their candy, when you’re usually a little happy ball, and in your birthday,” Gigi remarks, although not harshly. “Had a bad day?”

Crystal hates this how easy is for Gigi to read her. She knows she looks terrible, beside her dress the signals of her terrible day surely mark her face in dark bags under her eyes and pale tired skin, but Gigi has always had a talent to read her beyond that. The simple fact makes her feel even more embarrassed.

“A horrible one,” she finally confesses in a low whine. “A straight up disgusting, draining, fucked up, impossible day! And, I know I shouldn’t feel so pressed about it, but birthdays are supposed to be happy and I — I am not. At least not now.”

Gigi snickers, taking Crystal’s hand in her own to give it an affectionate squeeze.

“It’s okay to have bad days. Now, to have a bad birthday is really fucked up, but it is what it is. Wanna tell me about it?”

“I’m not really in the mood of talking about me being mediocre in life,” Crystal means to joke more than to actually vent, and she loves the way Gigi giggles.

“Dramatic much?”

“Oh,” Crystal’s eyebrows raise as she laughs. “I can be more dramatic.”

But Gigi doesn’t laugh along this time. She purses her lips, and then stands up, offering her hand to Crystal again.

“Let’s go.”

Crystal looks puzzled. She takes Gigi’s hand, allowing her to pull her back on her feet. With her hand still covered by the other girl’s, Gigi begins dragging her back to the house.

“Where are we going?”

“Let’s go for a ride,” Gigi suggests, looking back over her shoulder just to give her a smile that reassures everything.

In the middle of the dark since the backyard lights don’t reach there, the path changes; Gigi takes Crystal through a small hallway that connects the porch with the patio to the front of the house. They meet a few people in the way; some passed out on the ground, others drinking in their friends and some couples making out. Crystal turns to watch them before she realizes they’re crossing the garden.

“Gigi,” she breathes as she spots the motorbike parked on the sidewalk.

The blonde reaches in the pocket of her jacket, her hand still on Crystal’s. She finally pulls out her keys and twirls them on a finger.

“Every time I’m sad, or mad… or high,” she grimaces and Crystal laughs, “I get on this thing and ride away. It usually works to clear my mind and calm me down, so I thought it could work on you too.”

Crystal feels something very close to gratitude. Instead, she knows it’s pure adoration for one called Gigi Goode.

“Okay,” excitement starts filling her face as she smiles. “Oh my god, I’ve never been close to a motorcycle before, wow!”

Gigi laughs, rolling her eyes. “You’ve literally seen it everywhere with me.”

“I know, but—” she eagerly motions to Gigi and then to the motorcycle. “I always see it as, I dunno, part of you. Like, yeah, there’s Gigi and her bike, you know? I’ve never seen it up close.”

Gigi’s light hearted laugh is the answer she receives again. “Well, now is your chance.”

The motorcycle shines in its black neat color, with not a single particle of dust on it or sign of being neglected; Gigi’s perfectionist personality reflecting. Crystal finds herself so absorbed by its beauty that she doesn’t realize when Gigi lets go of her hand and gets on the bike, using her legs to adjust herself as she takes the two helmets from the space behind her on the seat to make room for Crystal.

She reaches forward to pull the key in the ignition, and it only takes a firm move from her hand for the motor to start growling. The sound makes Crystal gasp.

“You think you can get on? I don’t want you to fall,” Gigi warns, but Crystal is already jumping behind her.

Of course, the gravity plays a cruel trick and she has to grab onto Gigi’s jacket to prevent her from sliding off, but Gigi doesn’t seem to care as she snuggles closer. She offers one of the helmets to Crystal, smiling.

“Safety first.”

“This is so pretty,” she drawls, passing her fingers over the shiny, baby pink surface of the helmet.

“Thanks. Heidi suggested me to get it customized that way,” Gigi comments as she puts her own helmet, of a white color, on. “She’s pretty much the only person who I give a ride, so I thought, why not?”

A tinge of jealousy pops in Crystal’s chest, but she forces herself to ignore it as she notices Gigi reaching over the hand grips, preparing herself to move. She rushes to put the helmet on and forces the image of Heidi taking her spot behind Gigi to fade away.

“You’ll probably resent the motion, so please hug my waist as hard as you can and hold your legs onto the sides of the seat,” says Gigi, so easily it makes Crystal think it’s something she has memorized. “I’ll go slowly anyway, since it’s your first time.”

Crystal complies immediately; she wraps her arms around Gigi’s waist and the stupid butterflies in her stomach seem to fly all the way up to her throat, suffocating her for a second, until she realizes it’s just Gigi’s perfume.

Fuck, she thinks bitterly. She smells really good.

The short heel of Gigi’s boot kicks on something at the same time she rotates the key one more time, and the motor growls fiercely.

They start moving — it’s almost magical. At first, Crystal can’t really feel it. It starts as such a gentle motion, but when she looks around, she sees Jaida’s house becoming smaller and smaller in the distance, and the houses around moving around them. That’s when it hits her; they’re moving.

Gigi speeds up once they’re out of the block, turning on the left and then right and moving smoothly until they’re exiting the neighborhood, but Crystal doesn’t mind in following their path.

She’s too busy giggling at the wind hitting her face and making her hair twirl, creating ginger waves at the sides of her head.

The world around them is moving so fast, and all she can recognize in the city at night are deformed street lights and bright colors everywhere she looks at; everything seems so distant but so close at the same time as they slide on the asphalt, and the late life of Los Angeles never looked so appealing.

Nothing seems important now. Her grade, the fight with her mother, her album nor her fucking dress. Her mind is full of Gigi; of her beautiful hair, her endearing voice, her flawless face and how soft she feels under Crystal’s hands; almost as if she belongs there, in her arms.

If Crystal wasn’t starting to feel dizzy for the speed, she would probably never think such a thing; her feelings for Gigi are something unexplored and feared, threatening to destroy their friendship because Gigi is everything and Crystal is barely something that exists. And Crystal isn’t ready to lose her.

It’s the little things, like the fact she went all around the house looking for Crystal or that she even wanted to see her, that she thought of a way to cheer her up, that make Crystal’s stomach coil and tie itself in a too tight knot that won’t probably never be the same. Gigi has some kind of security aura around her that, as Crystal learned, was impossible to ignore. She’s confident, sure, but there’s something more to that attitude; something that demands to be trusted under that bitch façade. She’s kind and loving and funny, and if Crystal has to swallow her feelings to make sure Gigi is always at her side, then she will.

As they speed up into a steady pace, Crystal notices how Gigi relaxes and leans back into her just a little, and without a second thought she leans on her as well.

“You okay back there?” Gigi asks, voice muffed by the violent wind and motor growling under them.

“Yeah!” Crystal exclaims. “Oh my god, Gigi! This is amazing!”

“Wait until you see this!”

Crystal is about to ask what she means, when they turn into an empty street, where a tunnel leans out. There are no more cars or motorcycles around them and Gigi speeds up even more as they approach the tunnel, lights flying around them.

A raw “puff!” echoes in their ears as they storm into the tunnel, and Crystal laughs as she feels the force the motorcycle is traveling through it. She feels light, like the butterflies flying around her stomach, levitating at the right speed and watching the world around them as secondary.

Gigi starts slowing down at the middle of the tunnel.

“Hold your arms up,” she tells Crystal, eyes locked at the front. “Just for a second, so you can feel the wind.”

At first Crystal hesitates, but the speed is steady and there are no more vehicles around, so she slowly pulls her arms away from Gigi.

She raises both arms, wriggling them at her sides. She makes a quick mental note to remind herself to thank Gigi later, because the air hugs her limbs in a way that almost tickles her, the soft touch running on her naked arms and she closes her eyes for a moment, wondering if she could fall asleep like this.

Of course, when the motorcycle runs over a bump and she has to hold on Gigi’s torso to avoid jumping out of the seat, that idea is quickly denied.

“Oh, right,” Gigi laughs. “I should’ve warned you about that.”

Crystal huffs, sleep knocked out of her as they leave the tunnel behind.

The rest of the way is calm; Gigi decides to go slow this time, so Crystal has the chance to see everything in a clear way (according to her, it’s very important to appreciate the view) and Crystal takes the moment to rest her chin on Gigi’s shoulder and wrap her arms around her middle, just like before, but this time without the messy rush of fearing being thrown out of the motorcycle by a bump.

The proceed to threat a way through town messily, going around buildings and onto streets Crystal doesn’t even know, but Gigi moves skillfully, like she knows exactly where she’s going, and Crystal trusts her. Soon she noticed that Gigi actually knows where they going.

She recognizes her surroundings as they approach the apartment complex where Gigi and Heidi live. She’s always complained saying that her place is small, but the few times Crystal has come over, she’s loved the cozy feeling that takes over her as soon as she crosses the door, which makes her feel even more excited.

Gigi parks carefully on a spot near the front gates. She pulls the key out and the motor shuts down, as she leans back with a pleased smile.

“I didn’t ask you if you wanted to come here, but I thought you didn’t want to go back,” she whispers, barely having to turn around to see Crystal’s face resting on her shoulder blade.

“You thought correctly,” Crystal sighs with content before a thought crosses her mind, making her gasp. “Shit, I gave Jan my phone before going out—”

Gigi reaches on the inside pocket of her jacket, pulling out Crystal’s phone.

“She gave it to me when I asked for you,” she explains to a stunned Crystal. “She thought we would leave together eventually.”

“How smart,” Crystal mumbles.

She unlocks it while Gigi takes her helmet off, noticing the time; almost two in the morning. She tugs on Gigi’s sleeve, pointing at the screen.

“It’s late, won’t Heidi be pissed if we come in? She could be sleeping.”

“The girl wouldn’t wake up even if a rock fell in her head,” Gigi rolls her eyes, gesturing for Crystal to take her helmet off as well. “C’mon, let’s go inside.”

Crystal shrugs as she does so, too wrapped in the thought of spending more time with Gigi to care. She gets back on her feet with a little jump, following her inside the building as they carry the helmets with them. Gigi talks about her day while they’re making their way to the third floor through the stairs, blame the elevator that never came back to the lobby, by Crystal’s request. She wanted to know how she had been doing while she was miserable, and Gigi complies, walking through the empty building.

“I noticed this temperature thing was broken because, c’mon, California will never be hot enough to make fucking ice cream almost boil,” she says just when they walk into the right corridor, Crystal trailing behind her. “It was a nightmare, everything was so fucking hot. I hope Heidi could fix it.”

The metal of her keys knocking makes the only sound that fills the air as Gigi opens the door. She reaches for the switch and the small living room lights up, cool air receiving them.

“She fixed it,” Crystal muses, smiling.

“God bless her,” Gigi sighs, taking off her boots. “Could you leave your shoes by the door and the helmet over the coffee table please?”

Crystal steps on the soft carpet on her short blue socks, watching as Gigi makes her way to Heidi’s bedroom door. She opens it just enough to poke her head inside. After exchanging a few words with her roommate, she turned back to Crystal, closing the door behind her.

“Heidi was just going to sleep.”

“Oh,” Crystal’s eyebrows raise. “Tell her hi?”

“I’m not sure she’ll appreciate me bothering her again,” she giggles. Her mouth opens again, but she closes it seconds after, thinking for a second on what to say. Finally, she gestures at the kitchen. “You want something to drink?”

The apartment is small, Gigi’s right. The living room has barely enough space for a couch and a coffee table and is too close to the kitchen. The bathroom is that white door carelessly next to the television hanging on the wall, and Crystal bets Gigi and Heidi’s rooms are just as small, although she has never seen them. The few times she has been there, with Jaida and Jan, they simply preferred to stick to the couch and a barstool they would drag from the kitchen.

Gigi’s room suddenly becomes source of her curiosity, but she nods, remembering Gigi’s question.

“We’ve got a great menu tonight, in honor of your birthday,” Gigi hums as Crystal sits on one of the stools of the kitchen bar. She opens the fridge, eyeing the content blocked to Crystal’s view by the fridge door. “We have… well, we’ve got beer, and pretty much nothing else.”

Crystal laughs. “Beer! Just what I wanted!”

Gigi is beaming under the kitchen lights as she tosses her a beer and takes another one for herself, nonchalantly kicking the fridge closed. She leans a hip on the kitchen bar, worryingly close to Crystal, and holds her beer up.

“Cheers,” she clicks their cans together.

“Cheers,” Crystal repeats. She stops right before taking a sip, frowning. “But what are we exactly cheering for?”

Sipping her drink, Gigi breathes out a laugh.

“You just killed the moment, babe.”

Babe. Crystal’s ears burn with the name, and she attempts to conceal her surprise by pretending she’s genuinely confused.

“Well, who cares?” Gigi shrugs, holding her beer up again. “Here’s to terrible birthdays, a broken temperature system, and…”

“Motorcycles,” Crystal fills in for her.

“Yeah,” Gigi grins at her. “Motorcycles.”

Crystal leans back to take a long sip of her drink, savoring the slightly bitter taste going down her throat. She notices Gigi staring at her when she places the beer back over the bar, with the ghost of a smile on her glossy lips.

“What?”

“What,” Gigi repeats, snickering.

“You’re looking at me,” Crystal points out, smiling to cover her worsening blush.

“I like looking at you,” the blonde simply says, as if it’s obvious. “I always wanna look at you.”

“That’s creepy. Do I need to call the cops?”

Far from looking bothered, Gigi shrugs. “Who knows. Maybe.”

Crystal scowls with no genuine annoyance, but her face softens as Gigi’s smile somehow widens.

“You’re weird, miss Goode. I thought being weird was my gig,” she jokes, making Gigi throw her head back in laughter.

Internally, Crystal is praying this moment never ends. Seeing Gigi under the dim lights of her kitchen, toying with that beer and looking so effortlessly gorgeous is having the same effect as when she was feeling the air hit her face on the motorcycle, and her head already feels lost in space, far away from the apartment.

“Why were you looking for me earlier?” Crystal asks, voice small.

The intimate atmosphere created around the two is beginning to feel suffocating. Crystal can feel Gigi so close, like she’s the only real part of a dream and the rest of the world was nothing but a wallpaper for her wonderful figure to stand in front of and lead Crystal through the rest of the night.

“Nothing,” Gigi doesn’t even look taken aback by the sudden question.

“Oh, c’mon. It can’t be nothing,” she whines as Gigi takes another sip, purposely taking a long fucking time doing so. “Gigi, c’mon. Tell me!”

She leans forward, making her lower lip stick out in an exaggerated pout. It seems to work catching Gigi’s attention since her whole face seems decomposed when she glances over.

“Don’t do that.”

Crystal frowns. “Do what?”

“Don’t pout.”

“Why not?” she quirks en eyebrow.

“Because it makes me wanna kiss it off your lips,” Gigi deadpans. She takes a final sip from her beer before walking to the fridge again, not minding if Crystal just froze on her spot.

Crystal laughs nervously, trying to convince herself she just misheard. Her heart is beating so fast on er chest, if she watched any medical tv show she might be worried for it to pop out of her body through her nose at any second.

As time passes, she wonders if that’s possible.

“What did you say?”

Gigi sighs, returning with another two beers. She looks uncharacteristically shy, sheepishly placing the new beer in front of Crystal, eyes glued to the carpet.

“This is dumb,” she blurts.

“Gigi—”

But Gigi leans in to kiss her, and suddenly any word forming in Crystal’s head dissolves.

It’s slow and tentative at first, but any doubt disappears when Crystal’s hands move to cup Gigi’s face, pulling her even closer.

She feels light. So light, like when she was holding her arms up in the tunnel to feel the wind, and everything moved so far away from her, she felt ethereal. And now, moving her lips against Gigi’s and feeling the texture of her lipstick between them makes her wonder how Gigi can make such raw sentiments be born in her, riding a goddamn motorcycle or kissing her in the tiny kitchen of her apartment.

Gigi’s hands are tight at the sides of her waist, tugging a little tighter as she pulls back to grab some air.

“That’s why I was looking for you earlier,” she confesses after a while of comfortable silence.

Crystal feels pulled out from a deep trance… or rid over by a bus. Whatever sounds romantic as she stares at the blonde’s deep blue eyes and runs her fingers over her shoulders.

“I think I’ve felt this way with you for a while… I mean, you’re pretty, and I have eyes, so I can tell that you’re pretty,” Gigi continues and if Crystal wasn’t focusing on breathing she would’ve laughed, “I thought that I could keep it friendly, but this morning, when I knew the temperature system was broken and I couldn’t make it to class or the party, I was so pissed. I didn’t wanna let you down.”

The butterflies in Crystal’s stomach have eaten her tongue. Yes, that’s why she’s speechless.

“You’re not mad at me, are you?” Gigi finally asks and everything fits in Crystal’s head.

“Why would I be mad at you? You’ve literally described how I feel for the last semester with this crush I have on you,” Crystal blurts out.

Before regrets covers her entire face, she notices Gigi raising an eyebrow, with a smirk threatening to form on her lips.

“Last semester, huh? That much?”

“Shut up,” Crystal tries to sound pissed, she really does, but with Gigi being so close, her blushing cheeks betray her initial expression.

“Don’t be embarrassed, you’re flattering me.”

They both laugh. A warm feeling spreads across Crystal’s chest at the fact.

“This day… it was hell,” she mumbles, and almost smiles at how Gigi looks at her, having her entire attention, “and I also was thinking of you. It was weird… like, as I said before, birthdays are supposed to be happy and while I was sad and grumpy I couldn’t help but think ‘I wish Gigi was here, because she would make everything better; she’d make me laugh or help me or just make me feel like I’m not alone’ and I hated the idea of not getting to see—”

“The love of your life?” Gigi suggests, sounding way too hopeful.

“I was gonna say that blonde bitch,” Crystal grimaces, “but if that works for you…”

Gigi laughs, mumbling something about who was the real bitch is as she reaches over for her second beer.

Leaning her side on the kitchen bar, freshly open can in hand, Gigi smiles again. It’s a show of her teeth and little wrinkles at the sides of her eyes that Crystal remembers noticing the day they met that morning at History of Art class.

Glancing at that very smile, Crystal’s pretty sure she’s dreaming. Did she fall asleep on Jaida’s lawn? That’d be pathetic. Someone could think she’s dead tomorrow morning when everyone’s hung over and oh, the idea frightens her, but she has to be dreaming. She can’t be this lucky — she’s never been lucky. What are the chances someone like Gigi can have a crush on her?

This flawless, beautiful girl with a golden personality that Crystal’s been making heart-eyes at for months has a crush on her.

God, she thinks. If I fell asleep Jan better never wakes me up.

“Crystal?”

The redhead blinks a couple of times, meeting Gigi’s eyes in the process.

“You were lost in thought, babe. You alright?”

The fucking pet name again. Crystal isn’t dreaming; her brain wouldn’t be mean enough to make up scenarios like this.

“Was I? Sorry.”

That’s not the answer Gigi wants. She drags the other barstool from the other side of the kitchen bar to Crystal’s side, sitting down with her beer still in hand.

“Stop overthinking.”

It’s not a suggestion. Crystal attempts to laugh, but no actual sound comes out of her mouth.

“Well, I can’t,” she babbles, “it’s hard. This doesn’t feel real.”

“Doesn’t it?”

“No,” she whispers, more to herself than to the other girl. “I always thought that you were… romantically different than me.”

Gigi looks utterly confused. “Please elaborate?”

The butterflies are not dead. They’re flying around Crystal’s stomach now, begging her to not fuck it up.

“I never thought you’d feel the same,” she admits, too quietly for her taste.

Vulnerability is not a good look on her, she has decided years before, and definitely not in front of Gigi. She has all the time in the world to be a cry baby in the comfortable privacy of her dorm, not right now, for Christ’s sake.

“This is real,” Gigi gestured at herself, then at Crystal. “We’re real. Everything is. I can’t understand why you’re so impressed about it, but I know for sure it’s not enough of a reason.”

Crystal nods. Gigi’s right, as always, and she’s just wasting time questioning why has her day taken the path it did instead of enjoying it.

“I’m just being stupid.”

Gigi rolls her eyes, pulling her again for another kiss — a shorter one, but Crystal can’t help but try and memorize how her lips feel against hers. She’s never stopped and think of how it would be to kiss Gigi, and she’s somehow glad; none of her expectations would have been better than the real thing.

“I like you stupid,” Gigi comments once they part, receiving a smack on the arm by Crystal. “You know I’m kidding; you’re never stupid, but I do like you.”

“I like you too,” Crystal breathes, feeling every of her limbs relaxing. Gigi doesn’t say more, and maybe it’s the end of their conversation, but there’s something else forming in Crystal’s throat and before she knows it, she blurts out, “thank you.”

Gigi looks up, puzzled. “For what?”

“For the ride. It was the best birthday present ever.”

Under the dim lights of a small kitchen in an even smaller apartment somewhere in Los Angeles, Crystal knows there’s nothing better than Gigi Goode.

#rpdr fanfiction #crystal methyd #gigi goode #college au #lesbian au #fluff #catrina #concrit welcome #crygi #s12

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risingsouls · 3 years ago

Text

Recruited: Chapter 11

[Another chapter in the books! This one runs parallel in time to the last (which will be pretty obvious) and has a little more action! So enjoy, have fun, etc.

And don’t forget: you can find the rest of this series and soem of my other BS for this blog here!]

Nabooru

Their trio of space pods burst through Noya's atmosphere and slammed into the surface, a triangle of craters left in their wake. Nabooru replaced her scouter on the side of her face, a press of the button causing the yellow characters to flash across the orange glass as it started back up. She opened up the door and floated out of her pod, touching down on the maroon dirt. A teal, creeping vegetation sprawled over it as far as the eye could see. In the distance, she noted the silhouette of a city or village and a range of mountains beyond it.

She stretched and glanced to her side as Nappa and Raditz joined her, both working out the kinks in their own joints from the long trip. "Awfully quiet here. Where do you think that team is? Hope they didn't kick the bucket before we got here," Nappa said, popping his knuckles. "Maybe it means we'll get a good fight out of these guys if they're calling in reinforcements."

The repetitive pings of a scan sounded from Raditz's scouter. "I wouldn't get my hopes up," the other Saiyan replied, turning around to check the other direction. "I'm not getting a single reading, save for five decent ones off in that direction."

He nodded opposite the mountain range. "Make that three."

Nabooru raised an eyebrow and began her own scan, Nappa following suit with a huff. "You're fucking with us. Why the hell would we be called here if they didn't need us?"

"No, he's right. I'm only getting those three readings, too. That must be the team we're meant to rendezvous with."

Raditz flew up several meters and gazed around. "Looks like something went down over there," he called down to them. "Might have been a settlement or something. Doesn't look like there's much left now."

"Let's go check it out. Something feels off here."

Nabooru followed Raditz and Nappa to the site of what could have potentially been a compound of sorts, a decent sized village, or something else entirely. The damage sustained in the area made it difficult to tell, the edifices reduced to little more than a half foot of wall at best. Scorch marks and craters dotted the area, and they could hardly walk a few feet without finding a corpse or the remnants of one. Each had a variant of blue skin, ranging from near white hues to navy. A few wore what she guessed were plain clothes, while most sported a sort of white armor. Soldiers. Most of the bodies were heavily mutilated, physically torn or shot with concentrated ki blasts to pieces, others sporting deep gashes as if from claws. Maroon soil was stained with emerald blood. Fresh.

"I thought I recognized that power level." Nappa squatted down next to a corpse missing every limb. The lower half of its skull had been crushed as if beneath someone's foot. "Looks like Shikoo and his team's work, don't you think, Raditz?"

"Seems that way. Doesn't seem like they need our help, though. And they never have before." His frown deepened. "Maybe it's some kind of trap."

Raditz vocalized Nabooru's growing fear as each piece of evidence seemed to confirm the theory. "Who's Shikoo?" she asked, turning her attention from the massacre and back toward the direction in which their scouters pinged the readings. Two of the power levels weren't much and would hardly be a challenge for even Raditz. But the third was more powerful, and while only around Nappa's power level, her insides squirmed. Why would they be sent here if this team had everything under control? Was there some secret of this planet they weren't privy to that presented a danger they couldn't handle?

"One of Frieza's favorites, and I'm sure you can see why. What the guy lacks in power he makes up for in brutality and dirty tricks," Nappa told her, folding his arms over his chest. "Makes us Saiyans look soft. But I'm sure you've seen the guy. He's bigger than me, looks like a cross between some kind of reptile and a dog. Red fur and scales. Loud and brags constantly."

Nabooru's brow furrowed and she clicked her tongue. "Mm, yes I've seen him around the base once in a while. Never considered him important enough to learn his name, especially after he and his idiots tried to force themselves on me back when I first started on the force." The corner of her lips quirked upward in a malicious smirk. "He didn't take being turned down very well. But I took care of him and made it clear he should leave me alone."

Raditz chuckled. "Good. The blowhard deserves all the beatings that come to him. Especially for that shit. Nappa and I may have heckled you for a romp in the sack, but he's so full of himself, of course he would try to force his ugly ass on you. I hope these guys took him down a peg or two."

"Confirms the rumors anyway," huffed Nappa. "Guy's disgusting. Pretty pathetic when you gotta resort to force to get off. Guess he ain't much of a charmer, no surprise there."

She kept her surprise about their stance on rape to herself. Considering the violent nature and disregard for life, their history of taking what they wanted by force, rape didn't seem like it would be far off the table for them. Both the Saiyans with her had taken her refusals without much hassle, so she supposed it shouldn't have with at least these two. A point of respect for them, at least, considering the rampant trouble they had with men attempting such with her people back home. As a race of all females and how their style of dress revealed far more skin than Hylian garb, men had a sense of entitlement to Gerudo women, and seemed to believe that meant they were asking for it.

"I suppose we should contact Frieza," she said at last, reaching up to her scouter and selecting the proper channel. "Let him know what we found and what we're meant to do instead."

Once the scouter connected successfully, Frieza greeted her before she could open her mouth to speak: "Ah, what good timing, Nabooru. You have landed on planet Noya and met with the other team there?"

"Yes, my lord. But we are confused. When we landed, we found the planet had already been successfully purged of its in--"

"Yes, yes, I am aware of the success in purging the planet. The instructions to rendezvous with the soldiers sent to Noya were...purposefully vague. The task for you and the Saiyans is to kill that team. Don't worry your pretty head over why, dear. It's unbecoming of a soldier. Their punishment has been a long time coming."

He broke the connection before she could confirm her understanding, but by the questioning expressions in her comrades' faces, her own revealed her opinion on the troublesome news. Surprised wasn't the right word for what she felt. Frieza was known for orders that felt out of place or cruel. Unwarranted and harsh. But piecing together their situation, Nappa's words, and the fact that they had been split from Vegeta only further impressed upon her a sinking feeling of dread. She less suspected a trap for them than viewing it all as one for Vegeta, a "favorite" of Frieza's like Shikoo. Or if it was one for them, was this a precursor to the orders Vegeta would be handed? To end his team and allies in the rebellion they plotted?

"What'd he say?" Nappa asked at last, snapping her out of a spiral of paranoia and back to the task at hand.

"He means for us to kill Shikoo and his crew."

"Really?" Raditz's brow furrowed. "What did they do?"

"He didn't say. Just that their punishment was a long time coming."

The Saiyans exchanged a look of disbelief with a hint of concern. Nabooru wondered if they considered the same possibilities as her. If they wondered if some other team or Vegeta and Frieza themselves lay in wait to off them, too. As much as she wanted to ask, she didn't know who could be listening. And they had a job to do. If anything followed this, they would have to face it once they dealt with Shikoo and his cronies. The memory of them offering to help her find her way back to the barracks and then cornering her, how they tried to touch her anywhere they could reach and tugged her hair, their taunting words from how pretty she was and how good she probably felt to insulting her lack of control of her ki yet. Maybe she didn't back then, but her strength proved enough to subdue the three of them and send them to the hospital ward. She escaped their disgusting behavior, but how many hadn't, if what Nappa said rang true?

Back then, she still tried to cling to her no killing rule for her sanity and her ignorance to the sort of backlash killing fellow soldiers would have. But now she not only had permission, she had the will to do it. If not only for her own revenge, but for the horrors they inflicted on others, too. This time, she wouldn't hold back. She didn't have to.

Three scouters beeped to signal approaching power levels, and Nabooru couldn't help but snort as the hulking beast Shikoo and his cohorts landed before them.

"Come to see how real soldiers work, apes?" Shikoo grinned at Nappa and Raditz, showing off sharp, yellowing teeth in his elongated, canine-like muzzle. A forked tongue flicked out to taste the air. "Where's your diminutive leader, huh? Someone finally give the prince with no subjects the licking he deserves?"

His cohorts snickered and Nabooru noticed Nappa's fists and jaw tighten with the flare of his temper. "You idiots won't be laughing in a minute." The Saiyan general smirked and cracked his knuckles. "I've been waiting for a chance to stomp you."

The smaller two--an orange skinned male with a too-blonde Mohawk and a weedy, birdlike soldier with beady black eyes--shifted in obvious discomfort under Nappa's threat, but Shikoo remained unperturbed. "Please. You wouldn't dare. Not with my favor with Frieza. The alliance my people have is too precious for him to allow a couple monkeys to pick a fight with me."

Nabooru snorted, but his claims had her mind shifting back to her people. The fate of the Saiyans. "That explains a lot. But too bad for you, Frieza seems to think killing you is more important than whatever deal you and your people have with the empire."

Yellow eyes snapped to her, slit pupils dilating for a moment in recognition. His hackles rose and hair surrounding a line of spikes along his back stood on end. His aggravation melted back to sick amusement and he laughed. "Well, well. I remember you. Come crawling back for that fun I promised you after all, huh?" His attention fell back to Nappa and Raditz. "Taking orders from women now? You Saiyans really are a joke. Guess it is a step up from short, angry, and overcompensating. Easier to look at, too."

"Can we get this over with? This guy's voice is making me sick," Raditz complained. "I'll take the two wimps in the back alone if I have to."

"You're still on that?! What did I tell you?!" Shikoo snarled. "Frieza will have your heads if you try anything!"

"And what did I tell you? Frieza himself sent us here to kill you." A smirk curled Nabooru's lips and she turned her attention to Nappa and Raditz. "You mind if I take him? I'm really kicking myself for not finishing him off all those years ago."

Nappa huffed and folded his arms, making a show of his indignance. "Damn, guess I can't argue with that. Much as I wanna bury this mutt myself, I think you've got a bigger stake." He nudged Raditz. "You take the orange one and I got bird brain." Without waiting for a response, the larger of the two surged forward and slammed his leg into his opponent's side, sending him sailing with a squawk. The general laughed and swept after him. "Try and make this fun for me, birdie!"

Raditz shot a series of magenta blasts toward the other minion who, more prepared for the onslaught than his companion, dodged backward nimbly and blocked what he couldn't with raised arms. "Give him a few good ones for me, won't you Nabs?" He shot her a wry grin and pursued his opponent with ruthless abandon.

“Stupid move on their part, leaving you alone with me,” Shikoo snarled, vicious grin back on his mug. “You don’t have the stomach to kill me. I saw it in your eyes then, and I’m sure you’ll falter again now. And that’s when I’ll finish what I started all those years ago. Maybe I’ll make your monkey friends watch.”

Nabooru rolled her eyes skyward. “Please. I feel so bad for you, I’ll give you a free first hit.” She beckoned him with her index finger. “Come on, big guy. Let’s see if you can do more than just flap your ugly mouth.”

As she hoped, Shikoo snarled at her taunt and lunged. Black claws extended outward and he swiped them toward her throat. Nabooru’s hand shot up and she grasped his wrist, her hand barely covering half of its circumference. He grunted and struggled against her strength. “So you’re a whore and a filthy liar…”

Her grip tightened, and bones crunched beneath her hand. “I’ve kind of proven the first one wrong by turning you down, haven’t I?” She caught his opposite fist. Her smirk widened when his eyes flashed in rage. “But I suppose you’re right about the liar thing.”

"I'll kill you, bitch!" he roared, tugging back in an attempt to free himself.

She held fast, orange energy flaring up around her. After a few more tugs, she released him, forcing him to stumble backward when he lost his balance. Nabooru shot forward and buried her fist in his scaled belly. Shikoo wheezed and doubled over. Head at her level, Nabooru wheeled back and kneed him in the face with bone-crunching force, whipping his head back and sending him wheeling backward once more. Blue blood oozed from his nose and mouth.

"This has been fun." Shikoo seethed as he raised his head again and spat blood on her boots. He shook with his rage, and Nabooru only wished Nappa and Raditz had remained with his crew to witness his embarrassment. She flexed her hand, forming a cylinder of ki in her palm. She wrapped her fingers around it like a hilt and willed it outward, curving and widening it into the shape of a blade similar to those she favored back home. "But I'm tired of playing. You're not really worth breaking a sweat over."

Using his shock at the sight of her ki blade, she shot forward again. She swept the blade downward, tip aimed at the ground between his feet. She brought it back up in a swift arc, between his legs and through his skull, splitting him vertically in half. His responding punch halted mid-swing, and his body fell apart with a stomach-churning squelch and a pair of thuds as each half fell to the ground.

"Geez, Nabs. Did you have to go crotch up? You made me cringe."

Her ki blade dissipated and she rested her hands on her hips. She turned to face Nappa as Raditz rejoined them, neither appearing to have taken too much damage. Raditz looked slightly ruffled with a bloody lip, but otherwise, both defeated Shikoo's goons without issue. "Of course. A disgusting bastard like him deserves it. If I wasn't supposed to kill him, I might have stopped at around his belly button."

Raditz wiped his mouth and grumbled. "Has anyone told you you're terrifying? You've been around Vegeta too long."

"I didn't realize you two were so squeamish," Nabooru snorted. She glanced at Shikoo's split corpse, the glee from her victory short lived as she remembered his claims. How Vegeta was within the tyrant’s clutches and, if Frieza knew what they planned, could be in danger.

"Speaking of Vegeta, what do you think Frieza has him doing?" A subtle attempt to probe their thoughts on the matter while potentially gaining some reassurance. "He's done this before right?"

“Sure. And I didn’t realize you were such a worrywart.” Nappa and Raditz exchanged knowing glances. “I thought Vegeta was just messing with us, but you two really are up to more than just training when you’re left alone with free time, huh?”

Her posture stiffened and heat rushed to her cheeks. “What is that supposed to mean?” She narrowed her eyes and marched over to them. Their grins only widened and she prodded both of them in the chest with her index fingers. “Just because the two of you can’t keep it in your battle suits doesn’t mean we’re a couple of horny teenagers who can’t handle being alone together. We actually want to get stronger unlike you slackers.”

“I have noticed he’s been in a better mood than normal once in a while,” added Raditz, ignoring her. “Sort of confirms that his smug attitude when he told us ‘maybe, maybe not’ last time we asked wasn’t just him messing with us.”

“Makes him a damn hypocrite though. He told us to quit trying. Guess he didn’t want to share.”

“We’re not sleeping together! Ever! Not even once!” Nabooru could kick that idiot for basically bragging to the other two Saiyans. She had faith neither of them would spread it around whether they believed it or not, but their insistence still pissed her off. “We train. That’s it.”

“It’s not a big deal. In fact, I approve. It’s about time the two of you got laid.” Nabooru slapped Nappa’s hand away before he could plop it on her shoulder. He winced. “Besides, it’s beneficial for us all because, like Raditz said, it puts Vegeta in a better mood for a little while. We all win.”

“Maybe he’s just in a better mood because you two aren’t bothering him as much.” She flipped around on her heel. “Can we please just get out of here? Seeing that ugly bastard again did nothing for my mood, and if you two keep this up, I’ll do the same to you as I did to him and make up the most embarrassing stories for your deaths I can think of.”

She heard the two snigger, but they joined her in flight without more of their incessant teasing. It at least distracted her from her paranoia and concern for the prince’s wellbeing outside of the usual sort of abuse or inanity he would suffer in Frieza’s company. A premature assumption, perhaps, but she decided to take at least Nappa’s lack of concern as a good sign. Or enough of one to keep her from fretting until she knew otherwise.

#fic: recruited #tw: rape mention #tw: violence #probably not my best work here #but it was fun to write #nabs beign a bad bish is always good

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