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braindeadbaddie · 3 years

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A Case Study in Kisses: Bajifuyu Through the Years

half for me, half for you, sticky kisses for two

Chifuyu and Baji will always split half a peyoung yakisoba.

They will buy one..two or ten, eat half of each, and then switch.

Baji is sentimental, and although Chifuyu thinks it’s a little impractical, he indulges him because he loves him. He loves to think that this is something that they do. This is theirs.

Baji does not eat peyoung yakisoba with anyone else, because when Chifuyu is done with his half, he always cups his face, and kisses him deep. He licks his way into his mouth, bites his bottom lip, and sucks on his tongue until Chifuyu is a whimpering, withering mess.

“For the extra flavor,” Baji says while licking his lips when he pulls away.

Then he goes on to continue eating, like he didn’t turn Chifuyu’s brain to mush.

Baji doesn’t tell him, but peyoung yakisoba always makes him crave his kisses. And the flavor always tastes a bit better from Chifuyu’s lips.

melting clouds

“Thank you for your patronage, have a good day,” Chifuyu says with a cheery voice as he waves off the last customer of the day.

Chifuyu sighs as the customer service smile melts off his face.

Today has been a long day. A very very long day.

He rubs the side of his neck, trying to work out the extra stress that has built there as he walks towards the door to flip the sign to “closed.” He lets out another long sigh before turning around and walking through the store to look for his boyfriend, so they can hurry up and get home, where they can hide away in the covers and pretend nothing exists but the two of them.

He turns into the cat food aisle and sees his boyfriend… laughing with Kazutora.

Now…Chifuyu has forgiven Kazutora for the pain of the past. He understands why he did what he did and how he lost his sanity to the world. He loves Kazutora, because Baji loves Kazutora, and because to some extent, he gets Kazutora.

So he understands exactly what is behind the look in his eyes when he looks at Baji.

Chifuyu’s been there too.

He swallows, try to work down some of the jealousy that is working into his guts.

It doesn’t work.

Fuck it.

Chifuyu walks up to the pair, throwing his arms around Baji, and nuzzling his face in the side of his neck. He gives him a squeeze as he lets out his third and loudest sigh. He feels the rumble of his boyfriend’s laugh before he hears it, the two working in tandem to send a hot thrill down to his toes, just as stepping into a warm bath would.

“Long day?” Baji asks, the sympathy apparent in his voice.

He nods, the exhaustion catching up to him as he rests his head against the back of Baji’s shoulder.

“The store is mostly clean, I can go count the register and finish everything up if you guys wanna get home a bit earlier…” Kazutora says, his voice masking most of the envy Chifuyu knows he feels.

“You sure?” Baji says, the rumble of his deep voice soothing Chifuyu’s heart. He could fall asleep standing up.

“Yeah definitely. Besides, I owe y’all one remember,” he says.

Chifuyu only sleepily hums, arms loosening around Baji’s waist. He feels his boyfriend turn around and wrap his arms around him to keep him upright.

“Well since this one is so tired, I’ll let ya. Thanks, Tora,” Baji says appreciatively.

“Mm, thanks Tora…” Chifuyu mumbles out, leaning heavily on Baji’s shoulder. He hears Kazutora’s retreating footsteps over the soft lull of Baji’s heart.

“You look like a little kitten,” Baji whispers softly, carding his fingers through Chifuyu’s fingers.

“Baji,” he mumbled, leaning into the touch. He tips his head up, searching for a kiss, all without opening an eye.

Baji chuckles and plants a small kiss on his nose.

“Baji….” he whines, feel the skin burning with the oncoming blush.

The rumble from Baji’s boisterous laugh, shakes Chifuyu up enough to flutter his eyes open and pout.

He feels the way Baji’s breathe gets caught in his throat, watching with sleepy eyes at the way his Adam’s apple bops up and down.

“God, you’re so pretty it’s unfair,” Baji mumbled before gracing him with a pillow soft kiss.

Chifuyu sighs into it, and for the first time that night, he feels all the stress, all the worry, and the entire world melt away.

All that matters right now is Baji’s soft kiss, lifting him up up up, causing him to float away.

Cloud 9 could never be as sweet as Keisuke Baji’s lips.

the sweetest sound (my name on your lips)

“Chifuyu,” Baji says with his beloved’s head tucked under his chin.

“Yes Baji-san,” he answers, his back firm against Baji’s chest.

“You know…you should start calling me by my first name. I don’t know why you’ve kept these formalities up like we haven’t been together for like….ever” he mumbles into his hair.

He almost misses the way Chifuyu stops breathing. But who could blame him…his heart is going so fast he can barely hear or feel anything but thump thump thump thump.

Chifuyu lowers the heat on the stove, where he’s making tea and turns around to face Baji. He looks up at him, a pink blush dusting his face, his plump bottom lip caught in his pearly teeth.

God, how could his boyfriend look so cute, so sweet, so absolutely breathtaking with nothing but Baji’s big sweatshirt on in the dim afternoon light in his kitchen.

Chifuyu could run Hakkai and all the other models in the world out of business.

“K-Kei…” he says bashfully, intoxicating green eyes darting between Baji’s eyes and….everywhere but Baji’s eyes.

“Hah…” Baji breathes out as the air is punched out of his lungs, blood rushing to his face.

“Kei…” he says again, more firmly, holding his gaze this time.

Baji bites his lip to stop himself from making anymore embarrassing sounds.

“Kei…” Chifuyu whispers softly, tilting his head just the slightest.

“God…” Baji groans out before rest his forehead against his boyfriend’s. He presses a firm kiss to his lips, before doing it again and again and again.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, Chifuyu,” he whispers softly into the small space between them.

Chifuyu mumbles out something incoherent before pressing a small kiss to the corner of Baji’s mouth.

“Baji-san,” he whispers back.

“No no. Kei.” he replies firmly, looking dead into his boyfriends mesmerizing oasis of green. “You have to get used to it because you’ll be ‘Baji-San’ one day too”

Then blush that sparks across Chifuyu’s face makes Baji fall in love all over again.

He watches him gulp, let out a shaky breath before looking up into his eyes.

“Ok…” he mumbles out.

lazy morning dew

“Kei…” Chifuyu says sleepily, caressing his lover’s torso with his ear pressed to his chest.

The man beneath him hums, tightening the arm around him. Chifuyu loves the vibrating feeling the courses from his boyfriend’s body into his. He plants a small kiss right over his heart, then plops his chin over his folded hands, looking up at the love of his life.

Baji looks down at him, rubbing soft circles into his skin. His grey eyes sparkle in the sunlight that seeps in between the blinds, shining in contrast against his beautiful sea of black hair, making them look like far away stars in the night sky.

And Chifuyu is helpless to do anything but cling to them like a lost traveler, trying to find his way.

“God, you’re so gorgeous,” he mumbled out, unable to stop the words from flowing out of him.

He feels a light blush rise to his face, but he can’t find it in him to feel embarrassed. Not with butterflies dancing around his stomach at the way Baji’s teeth sink into his bottom lip. Not with the way Baji’s cheekbones start to color in a pretty pink. Not with the way all the love in the world seems trapped inside Baji’s eyes.

“How can you say that when you look like this…?” Baji mumbles out, bringing up a hand to cup his face

“Chifuyu…” Baji whispers, rubbing his thumb across Chifuyu’s blushing face. “Man, you look like a dream.”

He feels all the breath leave his lungs in a soft whimper, helplessly nuzzling Baji’s palm. His eyes flutter close and holds his breath as his boyfriend’s sweet lips meet his own.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever get over this. Not after knowing Baji for 13 years , being with him for the last 7, and living with him for the last 6.

He doesn’t think he could ever get over the way Baji’s lips brush softly against his in the morning, before planting them firmly in a sweet kiss. He loves the way he always uses his hand to guide Chifuyu, the way his arm tightens around him. He loves the way he never rushes in the morning, taking his time to explore Chifuyu with his lips, his tongue and his sharp teeth.

As Chifuyu wraps his arms around Baji’s neck, sinking deeper into the kiss, he think this is how the Earth must feel, being kissed by the sun every morning. Softly, slowly, bringing it to life in a new way, every day.

#bajifuyu #Bajifuyu fluff #why isn’t that a tag #keisuke baji #chifuyu matsuno #omg theyre so cute #more bajifuyu fluff #they deserve everything #an apology for all the angst #I love y’all #Tokyo Revengers #tokyo revengers fluff #Baji should be alive

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izzabeean · 3 years

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Chapter 18 : Awakening

SUMMARY

There's a lot to unpack.

pairing : ushjima x f!reader / oikawa x f!reader / iwaizumi x f!reader

genre : angst + fluff

word count : 3,446

content : profanity

tags : alternate universe - college/university, post-break up, friends to lovers, pining, slow burn

a/n : a/n: I'm sorry this took too long, I've been needing a mental health break with how busy life has become. This chapter is a bit rushed just because I wanted to post it before next week since I've been MIA for so long.

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Slowly turning the key, your head starts to spin as you push the front door open to an empty apartment and a mixture of emotions surge through you. Relief that the repairs for your apartment are finally complete and you can move back to the comfort of your own home. Yet sadness swells in your chest at the realization you’ll be alone.

It’s weird. The natural response would be to get out of Oikawa’s apartment as soon as possible, sick of his antics and constant harassment. But for some incoherent reason, a part of you feels hesitant.

This heavy sensation in your chest drags you down as you walk into your apartment -- it seems so much more burdensome than when you left. Everything still feels fresh.

An agonizing pain mixed with confusion emanates off the walls flashing you back to the night Ushijima ending things. Your anxiety grows stronger as you picture his piercing hazel eyes glowering down at you after asking for you back. It's seemingly getting more and more difficult to make a decision as each moment passes and you're feeling inexplicably hopeless. It's a terrible idea to get back together with him -- just remembering that night makes you sick. We need to talk still haunts you accompanied with his unbothered, stoic expression... Your heart starts to race trying to make sense of what you’re feeling.

Why is everything suddenly so difficult?

You clench your fists so tightly your knuckles turn white. Why does he even want you back? This isn’t something that he should take so lightly, he hurt you. Though you strongly feel anger festering within, a voice keeps whispering in your ear to take him back. You can’t tell if it’s what you truly want or it’s just the fear of disappointing your parents even more.

“How’s it looking?”

Your manic thoughts are pushed away with Oikawa as he walks further into the apartment to take a look around.

The flood -- you’d forgotten about that morning until this moment. Your heart starts beating faster as the memory rushes to the forefront, not just from the panic and frustration of waking up to a submerged apartment, but to the moment of the warmth under the covers with Oikawa’s firm body pressed up behind you. Had Oikawa been holding back the entire night you spent together? Of course, you didn’t know how long he’s had feelings for you, so surely if he did at the time, it must have been absolutely tempting to make a move on you. But why didn’t he? Truthfully, if the situation was switched then you would’ve taken the opportunity to…

“Not bad,” you answer, trying to force an honest smile, but Oikawa sees right through you.

“Why do you do that?” Oikawa says, his voice is tight on the cusp of irritation.

“Do what?” you respond quickly, hoping that he will just let this one go. But he doesn’t.

“Force yourself to smile like that,” he grunts. “You’re not good at hiding when you’re upset.”

“I’m not--”

“Bullshit,” he retorts with a harsh tone.

You bite your tongue, even more conflicted on what to say.

Oikawa sees that as he analyzes you, he knows it’s not easy for you to talk to him about stuff. “Is something on your mind?” he asks softly, drawing his frustration back.

It’s hard to process, you’ve felt this heavy feeling for so long, you thought it was normal. The only time you’ve felt any reassurance is in Oikawa’s presence, yet for some reason, today the aching is much more prominent. Everything feels so nerve wracking. You know he likes you and yet, it makes your heart throb.

“My parents,” you start with your voice a little shaky. “They think they know what’s best for me...”

“For the internship?”

“Yeah,” you reply quietly, eyes fixed on the ground. They also think they know it’s best for you to be with Ushijima, but you couldn’t tell Oikawa that. “Everything’s all set up and it could make me successful but…”

You turn away from him so your face is out of his view. The silence stretches between you for a moment. You feel oddly vulnerable, like the slightest touch will shatter you into pieces. If only it was easier to explain the constant pressure you receive from them, you might've tried to laugh about it upon telling him, just to make things a bit lighter. But, it wasn’t something you were ready to dig into.

“Then what do you want?” Oikawa asks, breaking the quietness.

The age old question that’s been going through your head this entire time. Truthfully, some answers seem so vivid now. You don’t want that internship… It’s not something that will excite you in any form. You want to work to achieve something and this feels like it’s just being handed to you because of your parents. There’s no drive for it.

But as for Ushijima, well...

“I don’t know,” you utter, shaking your head. “I don’t know if I ever will.”

“You’ll figure it out, I know you will,” Oikawa hums, before walking up to ruffle your hair.

Even as he pulls his hand away, his touch is still lingering, forcing you to catch your breath at the sudden surprise. His words are warm and caring as if he truly believes everything will fall into place. You want to believe him. Even the warmth in his eyes almost sways your skepticism, you can feel affection in them, but you can’t seem to grasp onto the hope he has. At this point you’re too stunned to even say a word as you allow your emotions to control you.

“When are you moving back in?” he asks, bringing you back to reality.

“Probably in the next couple days,” you breathe then pause staring at him for a bit while feeling your entire face burn up. An undeniable tension floats in the air and you're struggling to understand if it’s just your mind racing or it’s actually there. The way he manages to get your heart racing out of nowhere, the look he gives you when his chocolate eyes gaze at you, makes you want to melt… “Can you help?”

“Of course.”

------

Now that Iwaizumi is gone, it’s only standard for you to sleep in the guest bedroom. You’re not sure why a room down the hallway was more uncomfortable, but here you were tossing and turning unable to fall asleep. Of course you have other causes to your insomnia, like the pressure of deciding whether or not you should move forward with the internship and whether or not you should get back together with Ushijima. But at the very moment, your head can’t seem to wrap around the idea that Oikawa is just down the hall.

You’ve been living with him for awhile and now you decide to be nervous about it, you think.

Tucking your head under the covers, you take a deep breath inhaling the soft scents of softener and linen, a deep contrast to the sweet scent of citrus mixed with a tinge of oak in Oikawa’s room -- which you’d noticed shortly after is the essence of Oikawa. You clench your jaw, y our brain is all messed up from everything going on. Not to mention it's strange, the way Oikawa’s been so generous lately -- sweet without being boastful or bothersome, completely unlike himself. You’re not sure what you were expecting after your “fight”, but it probably wasn’t this.

You won't be sleeping anytime soon, so you get up and grab your coat, hoping an evening walk will put your mind at ease.

The night is dark and calm as you walk down the street, sidewalk lit by a streetlamp every few steps. Though quiet, your thoughts are louder than ever, pounding at your head hounding you to make a decision. As the cool air picks up and nips at your face, you quickly shove your hands in your pockets full of tissues and a cartridge. Pulling it out, you’re reminded of the evening you first bought the pack of smokes, how your agony ripped you apart to the point you had to turn to a bad habit. The recollection of relief pulsing through your body after inhaling the rich smoke tempted you as you open the pack and take out a stale cigarette that’s a bit crumpled.

The emptiness sets in and your eyes begin to gloss over as you think of what you should do next. For a moment the stress of your future can temporarily disappear with one breath, but how disappointed would Oikawa be if you did so.

That evening, when he called you in the midst of your smoke, he didn’t even know what had happened, but he was still there in a way. His voice echoes your head as he slurs that he hopes Ushijima makes you happy… It makes you hot and flustered. Oikawa always just wants what is best for you. Even if it didn’t benefit him…

You crush the cigarette into your palm and with that a shiver went down your spine. The heavy feeling in your chest seemed to lift itself a little and you almost thought you were standing a bit taller.

------

Fiddling with your pen, you look up once again at the time; class is almost over. Oikawa sits beside you, seemingly locked in on the professor's lecture. It feels unfamiliar to see him taking notes, attentively listening -- his concentration is normally as lacking as yours. Today your attention span is the worst it’s ever been trying to hone in on the dull monotone voice that booms across the class.

Then an idea sparks.

Quickly you try to grab the pen that Oikawa is writing with, but his reflexes are too swift for you as he jerks it away from your reach. A loud obnoxious screech from your chair lurching forward interrupts your professor in the middle of his lesson.

“Y/N, is everything alright?” the professor asks, while everyone’s eyes turn to you.

It’s awkward as you scoff under your breath, but sit up and readjust your seat.

“Y--yes, everything is good,” you say before having the professor return back to his stale lecture.

You let out a sigh while your face gets all flushed. The taste of desperation coats your mouth and it’s so overwhelming that you had to go to uncomfortable lengths just to feel the slightest bit of normalcy between the two of you. There’s just something about the way his irritation spikes through his tight-lipped smile and balling of fists while his eyes glare at you. You missed it.

Suddenly, a quiet snicker sounds beside you. In the corner of your eye, you can see a softness in Oikawa’s appearance and he's slightly smirking. You try not to make it obvious that you notice, but it makes your heart melt a little.

The remainder of the lesson, you continue to replay the way Oikawa’s lips almost turned up to a smile. You wish you got more of a reaction out of him, but it was enough to reassure things. When the professor gives his final dismissal, Oikawa pops up to pack up his belongings. There’s this longing of wishing you could sit beside him longer as you slowly collect your things.

“Ushiwaka is here,” Oikawa says, gesturing to the doorway.

You glance at the doorway noticing a familiar figure poking his head in. His eyes survey the classroom and before meeting yours, you quickly dart them away.

“Are you kidding?” you say under your breath, quickly zipping up your bag, feeling a flash of irritation course through your veins. “I’ll be right back.”

Oikawa raises his brow as he watches you speed towards Ushijima. He knew something like this was going to happen. It was only a matter of time.

But you weren’t pleased with Ushijima’s appearance.

"What are you doing?” you fume, you were quite pissed off as you pout your lips in petulant annoyance.

“I wanted to walk you to your next class,” Ushijima admits so nonchalantly it grinds your teeth.

"N--no," you reply, losing your focus to Oikawa walking by. “No, I don’t need--”

“I need to make up for the time we’ve lost together,” Ushijima adds, eyes locked on to yours that are wandering past him looking at Oikawa who’s getting further and further away.

"I-- I can’t. Please just… I need more space,” you sputter before swallowing hard your body leading to Oikawa’s direction.

"Take whatever time you need, I'll be waiting,” is what you think you heard from him as you catch up to Oikawa, but you don’t really care because your heart feels like everything you did in the moment was unlawful. You didn’t want Oikawa to get the wrong idea, and you feel like he might have, it makes you sick. Just when things started to repair with him, Ushijima just had to sweep in.

“What did he want?” Oikawa asks, his gaze ahead. “Did you finally accept his proposal?”

“What? No," you answer, trying to catch your breath.

“You’re really taking your time with this aren’t you,” he mumbles. “You better figure it out quick, he’s not going to wait for you forever.”

“He can wait,” you say to which Oikawa glances at you.

You get to a fork in the hallway that branches off to your next class or leads to outside the building. Oikawa raises his hand to bid farewell, but you stop planting your feet and take a deep breath.

“Toru.”

He stops and looks over at you…

“Can you come with me…. to my parents?” you breathe. “I don’t want to do the internship. I just don’t want to go alone to tell them.”

Hesitant of his answer, you wait for his response.

“I’d be happy to.”

----

“I don’t know if I’m ready,” you whine, abruptly stopping on the sidewalk in front of your parents house. The sun hides behind the dark clouds, almost seeming like a sigh that you shouldn’t move forward with your plan, but gently touches your back.

“It will be alright,” Oikawa says softly as you try to push away the heat of his touch.

You’re sure that because Oikawa is here with you, you can go through with it. Even if you’re on the verge of retreating, it’s in fact, much more relieving to have him support you on the sidelines.

Every ounce of you pushes your body forward towards the front door. The ominous illusion of a stone cold castle looms over you as you press your finger to the doorbell. The anxiety starts to build up as you look back to Oikawa. He gives you a smile and your face is hot, worried about what's to come from this conversation.

The door unlatches and slowly opens.

“Oh, hello,” your mom says, eyes wide yet narrow glaring down at you. “What a pleasant surprise.”

“Hi,” you respond shyly. You wanted to grab Oikawa’s body to shield you from your mom’s unpleasant aura, but of course you plant your feet. “This is Toru Oikawa.”

Looking back at him to check in and see if he too is incapacitated from her energy. But he isn’t.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he says with a bow.

“How charming, come in!” she greets.

Oikawa straightens up, smoothing out his shirt before fixing his hair. Your eyes widen in awe - his calm confidence is visionary. You didn’t remotely feel comfortable around your mother and Oikawa is smooth and endearing. You're definitely always bringing him with you when you have to see your parents.

Your poorly hidden anxiety is noted on Oikawa’s behalf as he raises an eyebrow and flicks you on the forehead.

“Don’t stress!” Oikawa smiles.

Entering into the house, you two take off your shoes and make your way into the dining area where your mom awaits you. The rooms feel remarkably lifeless and empty.

“Where’s dad?” you ask, taking a seat at the dining table as Oikawa follows suit, sitting next to you.

“Oh working again, doesn’t know when to stop,” your mom sighs. Her eyes trail to Oikawa and her gaze feels so much softer compared to the daggers she throws at you. “Would you like some tea? Water?”

Her gaze lingers as she patiently waits for an answer.

“Thank you, but I’m alright,” he replies.

She turns to you and your heart leaps out of your chest, her stare feels like it could drag your soul out of your body.

“No, I’m fine,” you say, voice shaky as you swallow hard, forcing the next couple words out of your mouth. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about the internship.”

Your mom’s intimidating demeanor drops immediately, her eyes twinkling with excitement while taking a seat across from you.

“Oh they’re so delighted to have you,” she croons. “They’ve even made you a care package in anticipation of your arrival!”

“See, the thing is…”

Your mom’s blissful face cuts.

“What’s wrong,” she says, making the question more of a blank statement.

“Nothing’s wrong, I just--”

“You think a mother wouldn’t know her own daughter.”

“It’s just--”

“Spit it out.”

You hold your breath, not sure how to present it. Looking at Oikawa, his eyes are full of affection and reassurance, you’ve come this far and you can’t back out of it now.

“Are you quitting?” she murmurs, gazing at you with a stern, cold look on her face.

“I’m sorry,” you say, trying to cushion the blow. But her eyes grow with more displeasure.

“Excuse me,” she hisses.

The air cuts thin. You’re quiet upon hearing the disappointment in her voice, and can understand why she’d be absolutely mortified.

“All that your father and I have done for you,” she barks. “This is how you repay us?”

I knew this was going to happen, you think to yourself as the worst case scenario seems to be on track with her reaction.

“I want to find somewhere else to intern,” you breathe, scared your words are just going to start a war. Her eyes have blaze in them won’t go out. There’s so much passion to make you like her, but even more successful, despite you going against her wishes. Something in her aura makes you want to run, but running is all you’ve ever done. It’s time to face your fears. “Please, let me explain.”

She doesn’t speak, her scowl says everything as she leans back in her chair, arms crossed against her chest.

“I’ve been thinking about it a lot, ever since I first went in for the interview,” you begin trembling. “Everyone was so welcoming and so excited to have me, but something just doesn’t feel right.”

“So you’re going to be selfish and only think about yourself?” she argues.

You recognize your anxiety from earlier stirring in your stomach. Your mom isn’t the easiest person to speak to, especially when her face radiates failure and suffering, this is quite possibly the most horrified you’ve seen her.

“It’s not what I want to do with my degree. I want to look somewhere else that will make me feel more fulfilled.”

“What you want is a mistake,” she thunders.

Her words are like knives digging into your heart. She just seems so distraught, and obviously cares about your future, but you can’t do this anymore.

You stand up from the table and bow deeply. “Will you please trust me? That’s all I ask.”

The room is silent as tension fills the air, you don’t really know what to expect as you shut your eyes tight waiting for a reaction. You’re expecting to be yelled at-- not to mention a shock wave of embarrassment protruding through you in front of Oikawa. The moment is painful and you don’t know what to do. You remain in the deep bow waiting.

“Alright. You don’t need to be so ridiculous, bowing...” she mumbles. You stand up and she has her hand clasp to her forehead. “You’re father’s going to kill me, but alright.”

Your heart rate increases, uncertain what she means by that, because you thought you’d misheard her.

“I guess it’s about time you’ve made your own decisions,” she says. “I was beginning to believe you’d continue to go along with it, but you’re your own person now.”

Shock and confusion washes over you, mixed with hope and excitement. You press your palm to your heart wondering if it’s about to beat out of your chest.

“Just don’t come crying when nothing goes your way,” she adds.

Letting out a huge breath, your lips upturn to a smile.

“Thank you,” you say. And it’s genuine.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff #haikyu x reader #oikawa tooru #oikawa x reader #oikawa x y/n #Ushijima Wakatoshi #ushijima x reader #ushijima x y/n

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kenmasangel · 3 years

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you get shot infront of tsukishima

synopsis : you and tsukishima work as police officers and it is known that this field isn’t safe from dangers, in fact it’s one of the riskiest jobs out there. so what you tsukushim’as reaction to see his s/o getting shot right infront of his eyes?

characters : police-officer!tsukishima; f!reader

genre : angst, fluff

warnings : injuries/blood, cursing, grammar mistakes

masterlist

request : i have one AU in where y\n is a spy or work for police or something like that in which she get's shot or something like that and how the haikyuu boys react to it or more specific tsukishima or any other will be ok if you do it

“straighten your arm, so you are sure to have a good aim,” tsukishima explains, holding your hands so he can guide you correctly.

the sound of the bullet being shot echoed in the practice room, lending on your target perfectly, “see? this is what i’m talking about,” he adds his warm breath carresing your neck. it would’ve sent shivers down your spine but you were taught to keep your composure, to have this poker face and to numb down any type of emotions; after all this was your work and you knew what you signed up for when you decided to join the police. “okay now that i got it let me do it alone,” you straightened your position and he got away from you

3 other shots, 3 other perfect lendings earning a smirk from the both of you. you turn around getting rid of the soundproof headphones, “don’t say anything,” he says before heading out of the practice room

“what? say what?” you hide your smile, now walking next to him

“you know what i mean y/n, i am not gonna tell you did a good job,” he rolls his eyes

“oh honey, i don’t need you to tell me, i know i did a good job,” he scoffs at your reply

you and tsukishima kei have been working together in the police for 9 years now

he was here before you and he didn’t miss a chance to tease trainee you every time he could

at the time you were focused and had one objective : integrate the police forces

and him butting in your buisiness everytime he could didn’t help and you weren’t afraid to twist his arm and threaten him to break his balls when no one was looking

as you finally got into the police, making yourself a name among all those cocky officers, fake peace guardians and mysoginist dickheads whose ego would get hurt easily by seeing a woman outshining them

tsk, poor things

one thing was sure is that you could always rely on tsukishima

and despite all the bickering, arguments and teasing, you couldn’t help but fall for the man who represented your pillar

of course you could count on yourself more than anyone, but kei was that breeze of fresh air that you inhaled pleasently after getting out of a suffocating room

needless to say he had also fallen for you, fallen really hard

he was known for being the brain of the team, very rare were the people who could go past his cold, inaccessible shield

to say it in another way, almost no one passed his vibe check

by now you guys were living together, everyone knew that you were a thing after you dramatically announced it once the contract’s interdiction to date was over

“omfg y’all, i made it! 4 years in the forces wohoo!” you held your glass in the air making your teammates scream back in entusiasm.

your teammates told you -lowkey forced you- to go celebrate this new chapter of your life in the police forces, it was the end of an era after all; an era that prevented you from many things because of that goddamn contract. you had alos gotten a promotion, everything was doing just great for you.

what no one knew was that you were dating tsukishima for quite a long while actually, you weren’t planning on telling everyone so soon but the events that happened that night lowkey forced you to do so.

“thanks everyone for celebrating with me tonight the beginning of a new era for me! let’s enjoy the night!” you weren’t one for emotional speeches.

everyone was drunk by then but tsukishima, of course, (mr. i am a mature man who doesn’t drink). he was watching over you, laughing at himself when he saw you fighting with your collegue about who would win a spicy ramen competition between, “i don’t care that you’re built like a whale or a blob fish, it doesn’t even matter! i would win that eating competition, i’m tiny but mighty narita-san! let’s wrestle so i can show you,”

“she really called him a blob fish,” he comments amazed at how incoherent what you said sounded. “need someone to share your thoughts with?” a feminine voice made an apparition next to him

“no,” he didn’t even bother looking at the woman next to him

“oh c’mon handsome, playing hard to get?” she gets closer to him. “just take a look at me and you’ll change your mind,” she whispered

“ew you stink, get away from me,” he pushed her off him

“you’re gonna make me sad,” she tried to get closer to him again

“and i am gonna make you feel pain, get the fuck away from him,” you appeared in front of them, pretty pissed

she looked at you up and down, scoffed “are you his mom? leave us alone, we’re having a great time,” she tried to put her hand on his thigh but he pushed it away “most definetely not,” he answers

“i am his girlfriend, so back tf off don’t make me repeat myself,” you added getting closer to them. “you really don’t wanna mess with me,”

“is she really your girlfriend?” the glue chick insisted

before he could answer you grabbed his arm and dramtaically pressed your lips against his making all your collegues and the people around you in that club gasp.

i mean the people who don’t know you started cheering and your collegues gasped, that glue of a girl included.tsukishima couldn’t help but smirk against your lips as he wrapped his long fingers holding the back of your neck pulling you closer, it lasted until you didn’t have any more oxygen in your lungs.

he grabbed your hand and led the both of you out of the club, “but baaaabe i till get to wrestle with blob fish-kun,” you pouted

the day after was supposed to be a weekend but you’ve been called for idk what reason

needless to say everyone was off, some remembered few snippets, some thought it was their imagination

anyway, everyone knew but no one really talked it out you know ? some type of unspoken rule or whatever but no one minded

anyway back to the present moment

you’ve been tracking for months a drug network or whatever the heck it is called

after months of intense tracking, following clues, interviewing suspects, sleepless nights and living of caffeine here you were going to finally stop the mfs

and tonight was the night

all your team was ready to catch them it was a matter of hours only

“areyou ready for tonight?” asked you tsukki handing you your coffee

“of course i am, especially after practicing my aim,” he smirks. “thanks by the way,” you add, head still down readeing your reports

“hey... hey yn,” he tris to catch his attention but you just hmm in response. “tsk, dumbass,” he flicks your forehead

“ow, what ? i am busy!” you retort. “yn i know you; you’re not busy you’re stressed, everything is gonna be fine okay? you’ve got this, we’ve got this,” he held your hand

kei was not big on affacetion, he never really showed it especially in public he was more of a sarcatic remarks and teasing type of boyfriend but it never stopped him from showing affection when it was needed, like this moment. it was also not your type to show affection or feelings as you learned how to control them; it was much needed in your job. yet it didn’t bother you when each of you got out of your way to be comfort each other

you smiled at him and peckd his lips quickely before anyone could see, “you know i love you right,” you smiled at him

“well, i’d love me too. i mean who wouldn’t after all,” you roll his eyes at his smugness

“excuse me sir, but i don’t mix up between my personal and pro life. would you please stay 6 feet away from me,” you nag at him

“so petty and for what?” you stuck your tongue as an answeryou continued checking all the reports and files before you went on the spot, everyone was getting ready by now and you were alone in the office when you received a very much unexpected call

“hel-,”

“hello? please come help me i’m in depot 5, building 3, neighborhood koenji, in front of the subway station please hurry before they find me,” the call ended brutally

you place that person mentionned was familiar to you, of course it was where you were going to catch the heads of that network of drug trafficking. you quickely went with the procedure to report the call and the emergency to the central

“yuki please be quick we can’t let them go, i am going now tell the others to join me there and send more men,” you blurt quickely before taking your protection and gun and leaving

once you arrived there you parked the car where no one could see it

wearing your protection and your gun tightly held in your hands, you looked for a discrete entery where you could sneak inyou finally ended up getting in from the back stairs leading to the 3rd floor before taking the stairs to go to the depot basement

you tried your best not to make any noise, and when you heard some noise you quickely hid behind a broken furnitureyou mentally asked yourself if you team was going to be there soonyou heard the voice of many men, plastic and metal sounds, anyway; sounds you’d hear in a depot filled with drug dealers, ya know the drill

at some point you heard the sounds vanish and going awayyou waited a few minutes before you thought it was a good idea to come out your hiding spot

as you walked closer to their previous spot you stumbled into a metalic box that was on the floor, “who’s there?” you quickely hid behind a pillar

“i said who the fuck is there ?” the man shot in the air but you didn’t budge

“it’s rats, Mo’, let’s go,” another man added

great, just great yn you mentally scolded yourself

you decided to go wait for your collegues in the third floor since they would get there soon

as you saw the police car parking next to yours you hurried quietly to join them

“y/n you sick fuck they could’ve caught you,” tsukki hurries out of the car to see you

“shush! i couldn’t let them go, i wanted to make sure they didn’t leave,” you explained. “so they are there, all the heads are there. i couldn’t find the person who called thoough, and of course there are many bodyguards; 4 in the main entry, 2 in the back, i also heard there are some on the roof.” you explain when the others came in. “i got there through these strairs leading to the 3rd floor,” you add, everyone nodding

“okay so here’s how it’s gonna go,” starts daichi; since he is the captain of your team. he proceeds to explain how things are gonna go, the way you’re going to catch them ...ect

you, kei, and two others were teamed up together

the plan was going perfectly fine, everything was in order and it was bound to succeed

heads were being captured one by one, everyone getting neutralized

but nothing can go 100% fine, right ?

the four of you were going up to the roof so you can capture the guards there and finish the mission

you slightly opened the door and entered the opened space, before you could comprehend what was happening you a felt a horrible pain in your leg and a compilation of balls being shot in the air

“YN! yn, stay with me, don’t you dare close your eyes,” kei hurries to you after him and the two others had shot the guards and called back up

you felt him wrap his jacket around your thigh tightly, “yn baby please, everything is gonna be fine you-,” he gasps after he felt his hand getting wet after he took your head, his eyes widden seeing how bloody his hand was and as he realized you hurt your head when you fell due to the shock

“kei,” a feint smile appeared on your face before you succumbed to your succumbed and let your heavy eyes take a rest

“YN? YN? no, no, no, no, are they fucking coming?” he asked your teammates who nodded. “baby stay with me,” he squeezed you tighter before scooping you up and deciding it was better to take you down himself and not wait for the emergencies to come since he thought they were taking too long

༺═──────────────═༻

you woke up with a horrible headache and how your muscles felt so sore, only the febril rays of the moonlight getting through the window illuminated the room. the annoying beeping of the machine next to you increased the pounding in your head

a nurse quickly came in, “hello there, how are you feeling?” you looked at her confused, finding a difficulty in letting the words slip from your dry throat, the only thing you managed to say was ‘pain’. “it’s normal,” she proceeded to ask you a bunch of questions, checking that machine and do her work

after she left you tried to remember what happened but the last thing you could remember was when you opened the door of the rooftop, hearing bullets getting shot and that’s it

“at least i’m not dead,” you sighed, going back to sleep

you woke up due to yelling in the hallway

“i told you to call me as soon as she woke up! you had one job!” you recognized your boyfriend’s voice

“sir, sir!” the nurse called him out but he opened your door and his expression softened as he saw you awake, softly smiling at him and rolling your eyes

he hurried to you, taking your hands in his softly, “i really want to hug you, but i don’t want to hurt you,” he started. he let out a shaky sigh, “ i was so scared, i didn’t want to believe i had lost you,” he burried his face in your chest, you noticed his shoulders started shaking slightly

“hey it’s fine baby, i’m here, you can’t get rid of me easily,” you started playing with his hair. “we’re gonna be old and bitter and people are gonna say how i aged like fine one and how your wrinkles are covering your grumpy face,” you chuckled

he lifted his head to look at you, “what?” you ask, your voice in a whisper

“i love you,” he said, you smiled soflty and carressed his cheek.

“i really want to kiss you but my breath stinks,” you chuckle, he rolls his eyes. “how long has it been? you ask

“week and a half, it felt like forever,” he pressed his forehead against yours, cupping your cheek

“i’m back now, right?” you smiled. “come, ow,” you tried to make somle place for him

“omg careful dumbass,” he leaned next to you and held your hand

“how are the others?” you ask, looking at your interwined fingers

“everything is alright, we got all of them we’re done with this case,” he tried to end the topic. “i’m glad,” you voiced your thoughts

“i’m glad you’re alive,” he added. “i don’t want to be away from you, i want to spend the rest of my life with you,” surprised, you looked at him with wide eyes. “love, life is short especially with our job and i don’t want to take the risk to spend one more day without you being my wife. i want to bicker with you over the dumbest things, see you tease me back when i tease you, wake up everyday next to you and your horrible bedhead, enjoy our food together and i can keep on listing what i want to live with all day long. i know this is not the best proposal ever but i’ll make it up to you,” he balbbered all of a sudden, you just kept staring at him this whole time, tears blurring your vision but you blinked them away, the situation itself was already way too emotional for you

“so, y/l/n y/n, do you want to become old, bitter and grumpy with me?” his eyes were full of hope

“i wish i could hug you right now,” you started. “but yes, i want to!”

he cupped your cheek and kissed you deeply, he still tried not to hurt you

“but you are the one with the horrible bedhead,” you pulled away

“right, you’re the one with the stinky breath,” he teased you

“hey, are you crying? i should be the one crying,” you noticed his glossy eyes

“what are you talking about, it’s allergies, tsk,” he flicked your forehead, you winced in pain and hid your face, over exaggerating, making him worried. “didi hurt you? omg baby i’m so sorry love, i didn’t mean into, should i call the doctor?”

you finally showed your face and stuck your tongue out, “dumbass,” he smiled.

he cupped your face and pulled you into another kiss

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dontmindmyshadowhunting · 3 years

Text

Am I forgotten ? (KitTy Fan Fic)

KitTy fan fic based on Kit and Ty’s flower cards (art by Cassandra Jean), to celebrate the release of Ty’s latest flower card. I alternate between Kit and Ty’s POV.

If you prefer reading it on AO3 or if you have missed the previous chapters, Link is here. AO3 Link - Am I forgotten?

Following Chapter is Chapter 5 - Blinded by the Sun

*****

Tiberius had never understood the concept of nightclubs. Of sharing loud music, like cacophony in his ears. Of sharing breath and body odors in the same crowded space. Of physical contact with mere strangers. No matter how large the room, he felt like he was trapped. Like he couldn’t breathe. Like all his senses were challenged, driven to the brink of explosion.

Tiberius clutched his pendant, his fingers reflexively stroking the heron shape in a soothing gesture he had made a habit of whenever he was confronted with stressful situations such as this one.

He had been in such a hurry that he had left the Institute without his headphones. This had been a terrible mistake. And Ty did not make mistakes. His mind never faltered, never betrayed him. Except, this was not entirely true. It only took one look into a pair of blue eyes for his mind to come tumbling down like a house of cards, as if hit by a storm, leaving a jumbled mess of incoherent thoughts.

He wasn’t going to be able to go through with it. He had to get out of here, and come back in through a back door. Not the best plan if you tried to remain inconspicuous. But this was a matter of life and death. He couldn’t stay one minute longer in this noisy, giant tin can.

He was moving towards the general direction of the exit, trying to find a clear path through the throng of strangers, when a hand gripped his shoulder. He fought the urge to take the hand off. Literally. To cut it off.

“Not so fast, Dark and Brooding” said a girly voice. Tiberius turned to look at his assailant. He could see under the glamour that she was a blue-haired Faerie. He knew enough about Faeries to know which kind. A mermaid.

“Oh my, but you are gorgeous,” she said, her eyes widening, before zeroing in on the Runes partially visible under his shirt. “I have always wanted to do it with a Shadowhunter… and you, my dear, appear to be one of their finest specimens.”

“Sorry, not interested,” Ty answered in a clipped tone. Although his gaze was directed at her collarbone, his posture must have sent a warning, because she withdrew her hand as if she had been burnt.

He was about to move past her, doing his best to avoid physical contact, when he caught the change of expression in her face. She looked stunned, as if she had just seen the sun rising in the dark windowless room, her lips parting in awe. But she was not looking at him. Her gaze was directed at something - someone? - behind his left shoulder. Ty tensed and spun.

Kit was standing there, a grin showing white perfect teeth plastered on his face, his blond hair elegantly tousled as if he had just gotten out of bed looking like other people did after three hours at the hairdressing salon.

Actually, he looked like the Angel himself had decided to shrink to human size to walk upon the earth for one single night of debauchery. His thin white shirt did nothing to hide his muscular torso, and the broadness of his shoulders was barely concealed under a tanned leather jacket. He looked as if he owned the place. As if he could snap his fingers and get anyone to do his bidding. As if he knew he could but did not care. He looked dangerous.

And he was all Ty could see, as if he - not unlike the Faerie - had been blinded by the sun. There was only him. It was as if the crowd had vanished, as if the music had been turned off.

Except, Ty’s heart had started playing staccato inside his chest.

****

It had not been difficult to find Ty among the crowd. Not only was he one of the tallest figures in the room, he stood out. Even as packed with Downworlders as this club was. It was as if a fairy tale character had lost his way in the modern world. Kit almost expected Sleeping Beauty or Snow White to come strolling around in the room, looking for him. The artificial lights gave his pale white skin an eerie glow, making him look even more surreal.

As soon as Kit saw him across the room, he fought the urge to fight his way through to get to him as fast as he could. Even from a distance, he could see from Ty’s stance that he was in pain.

Upon seeing him, Ty’s eyes widened in surprise, but he didn’t acknowledge him otherwise. He seemed to be in a state of shock. Well, you weren’t expecting me, were you?

“Sorry, I am late,” Kit said, resting his hand casually on Ty’s shoulder. Ty leaned into his touch and relaxed infinitesimally. “Difficult to find a cab in Manhattan these days.”

The Faerie who had appeared to be talking to Ty was joined by two of her friends and the three of them were giggling and staring at Kit, as if he were a movie star who had just shown up at the club after his Premiere. Good. Focus on me. Ty doesn’t want that kind of attention.

“Evening, ladies,” he said in his most pleasant voice. “Have you been enjoying yourselves so far?”

One of the Faeries batted her eyelashes at him. “It has just turned into a very interesting evening.”

“Happy to be of service,” Kit said. He executed what he hoped was an elegant bow. It must have been, seeing how his fangirls had turned hysterical. Well, he had learnt from the best.

He mouthed a silence thanks to Jem, then turned to Ty, whispering urgently in his ear. “So, who are we planning to kill tonight?”

“Not kill. Interrogate. A Faerie. I will recognize him as soon as I see him. Two, maybe three bodyguards.” Ty jerked his head towards the far end of the room. “He will probably be spending most of the evening in one of the private rooms in the VIP section.”

Kit’s mind was racing. All his training had led to this moment. Adrenaline was coursing through his veins, and he was beginning to sense the thrill of the fight. Now was his chance to show Ty just how much he had changed from the harmless mundane to the skilled Shadowhunter. But first things first. He needed a plan.

He turned to the puzzled faces of the three Faeries who hadn’t moved from their position during his whispered exchange with Ty.

“Apologies, fair ones,” Kit said. “We’d love to stay and chat but my friend and I had a long night. We are heading home. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

He pulled Ty away from the Faeries’ disappointed faces, to a more secluded corner of the club, with a direct view of the double doors leading to the private section of the club. He started racking his brain for a plan.

“Should we use the ladies as bait?” He asked after a moment. “We could go back and find them. We would make sure, of course, that no harm comes to them.”

Ty shot him a puzzled look before realization dawned on him.

“No,” he replied. “ From what I hear, he has a preference for….” He cleared his throat. “Men.”

Kit paused to consider this new information. As he did, he noticed that Ty was searching his face, his eyes moving restlessly, as if he was looking for something there. What are you looking for, Ty?

“Ty,” Kit said after a moment. “Do you remember when Mark had to pretend he was in a relationship with Kieran? Do you think you could play the part of... my boyfriend tonight?”

He hoped Ty hadn’t noticed the way his voice had risen to a high pitch when he uttered the word “boyfriend”.

Kit understood his mistake a second too late. Ty stiffened and a wave of pure panic crossed his delicate features. His hands were shaking as he grasped the heron-shaped pendant tied around his neck. My gift to him, Kit realized with a jolt. Trusting his instincts, Kit caught Ty in his arms, squeezing hard, and started stroking his shoulders, his back, applying as much pressure as he could. Ty heaved a sigh of relief and relaxed under Kit’s touch, nuzzling his face against Kit’s neck. Kit was able to breathe easily again. He had made the right call.

“Ty- Ty, I am sorry,” he said. “It was just an idea I had. A stupid idea. I will come up with another plan.”

“No, Kit,” Ty said in a quavering voice, muffled against Kit’s shoulder. “I want to help you. Except that… I don’t know how... How to act. How to play a part. I wouldn’t know what to do. Tell me what I need to do.”

“Nothing, Ty. I am not asking you to do anything. I will do the talking. You just need to… come along. I just wanted to warn you in case I touched you in… inappropriate ways.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“That’s alright,” Ty said, in a clearer voice. “You didn’t have to ask. You can touch me anywhere you want to. I don’t mind if it’s you.” I don’t mind if it’s you. Butterflies were fluttering inside Kit’s chest and around his stomach.

“Don’t worry. I’ve got you, Ty. I’ve got you...”

It was Kit’s own way of speaking the words he couldn’t say. I love you, Ty. I love you.

Too soon, he released Ty from his embrace, took his hand and, together, they moved towards the far end of the room.

*****

Tagging @arangiajoan @nenyx @naerysthelonesome @adoravel-fenomeno @unorganisedbookshelf @blindbandit1515 @whyhastgodfarsakenme @noah-herondale-lightwood @georgiaherondale @nicotheangel17 @joonjxne @that-dreamer-girl-m @mariiaarranz @writeforjordelia @shadowfae1878 @majollica-blog @mferraz @darkkitai @justanothermultifandomgirl @kitty-appreciation-week @gabtapia

and anyone who wants of course

#cassandraclare #cassandra clare #cassandra clare fan fiction #tsc fanfiction #tsc fan fiction #kitty tda #tda fanfiction #kitty fanfiction #the dark artifices #the wicked powers #kit herondale #kit herongraystairs #tiberius blackthorn #ty blackthorn #kitty blackstairs

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drewstarkeys · 4 years

Text

PKLM || RAFE CAMERON.

Summary: When your relationship with Rafe starts to fall apart, he has just four words for you. Based upon Please Keep Loving Me by James TW.

Word Count: 2.3k

Requested: No!

Warnings: angst, angst, angst. Oh and maybe more angst? Yeah this one was painful to write.

A/N: Let me know if anyone wants a part 2 to this! I have a few ideas in mind for a second part :)

“I know I have my moments and at times I’m hard to be around. I get impatient when you’re getting dressed, it’s just I thought the first one looked the best.”

You wanted to punch him, or yell at him, or do anything just to show him how upset you were with him at the moment. It was as if your teary eyes didn't strike worry in him, even though you doubted he noticed them at all.

Dragging Rafe to go shopping for a Midsummers dress was supposed to be a fun event, it was supposed to be where he pretended to be annoyed by you but truly wanted to help. The reality was a harsh contrast to your hopes, he had seemed truly annoyed by your actions and was acting as if he would rather be anywhere but where you two currently were.

The boy was sprawled out on a seat, completely uninterested in whatever you came out wearing, his eyes glued to his phone as he rapidly typed away at whatever he was doing. It was a simple motion, however, it was making you feel even more insecure in the lilac dress you had just pulled on.

There was really nothing to be insecure about, or at least at the beginning of your relationship, you had security. Lately, it felt as if he was different, colder towards you than he had previously been. It wasn’t a sudden change, you could see him pulling away and it hurt you more than anything but you felt powerless in stopping the growing distance he placed between the two of you.

“Rafe,” his name tumbled out of your mouth, trying to get your boyfriend’s attention. You watched him roll his eyes as he put his phone away and shifted his baby-blue eyes to meet your figure. They scanned your appearance and he nodded, no words leaving his mouth before he turned back to his phone. As a result of his actions, you huffed, feeling even worse than before, “go home, Rafe,” the plea came out weaker than you had hoped, but you couldn’t stand to see him at the moment.

The boy’s head snapped back to your direction as a confused expression coated his features. He was clearly trying to figure out what he had done wrong, but to him, he had done nothing wrong. “What? Why would I go home?” He asked, “anyways, I’m your ride home, I can’t go.”

Your eyes welled with even more tears as you tried to convey your frustration to him. He was so clueless to your words and it just made things worse for him. “I’ll be fine, just go and do something less boring to you,” you snapped, your hand pushing his chest away from you but he grabbed your hand lightly and pulled you closer to him.

“I liked the first dress the best, you looked so gorgeous with it on, I think I fell for you even more,” his voice whispered, his eyes scanning your face in hopes that you would soften to his words, but you simply walked back into the dressing room, hoping that he was going to take the hint and just leave.

What you didn’t know was that as soon as Rafe walked outside, he let out a loud groan in frustration, slamming his hand into the side of the building that was unfortunately next to him. He was upset with how unhappy you seemed lately, and even more so hated the fact that it was all his fault.

He was pulling away from you in fear that he would need you one day, clueless to the fact that he already needed you. He was reliant on you, you made him smile on his worst days and gave him many reasons to stay sober, despite his ongoing addiction to drugs.

“You’re beautiful, more than I deserve. So listen close to these one, two, three, four words.”

Rafe was watching you as you and Sarah did your makeup for Midsummers. The two of you got along quite well even with your different personalities, and Rafe loved how you acted towards his family.

You had just laughed a little bit too loudly at one of Sarah’s jokes and Rafe’s eyes lit up behind you. You were completely oblivious to the love in his eyes and anyone onlooking would think he was simply admiring you from afar.

That’s how he liked it. He liked it when you couldn’t see his vulnerability because if he was vulnerable around you then that made him weak. He knew you could break his heart with just a few words and he had sworn to himself he would never let that happen, even if it meant leaving first.

You knew that he was standing in the doorway but you ignored him, still upset at the fight from a few days ago. Your mind was telling you that it wasn’t fair to keep ignoring him, but he was basically ignoring you before that, so you had managed to justify it in your head.

A small buzz from your phone drew your attention away from Sarah’s face so you could inspect the notification. As you picked up the phone, you read the text that now covered your lock-screen that had been a picture of you and Rafe. “You look beautiful” was all the text said but you felt a small smile come to your face at the words. It was obvious that he knew he was in the doghouse with you, but God, you wanted everything to be normal again.

At the sight of your smile, Rafe felt his heart swell, loving the way you smiled when your smile was because of him. Unfortunately for him, it wasn’t him making you smile lately, and that hurt him more than anything. He wanted to change the dynamic currently between the two of you, but he had no idea where to start. It was a losing battle, and he hated losing.

Rafe knew that he didn’t deserve you. He knew that it was him that made you cry at three in the morning and he knew that it was him who was stressing you out beyond belief. He wasn’t dumb, he knew the relationship had grown toxic, however, he couldn’t let go of you, his biggest fear was losing you.

“So please keep loving me because our hearts speak fluently. Wherever I go, whatever I do, the map on my heart leads to you. So baby, please keep loving me.”

A knock on your door in the early hours of the morning wasn’t unusual for you. Rafe was constantly sneaking into your house whenever he wanted you and it tired you out, however, you stuck with him for some unknown reason.

With a groan, you stepped out of bed and walked towards your window, ready to tell Rafe that you weren’t in the mood. However, when your eyes landed on your boyfriend, your heart sank, he was crying. That sight alone made tears brim your eyes, you felt horrible for how things had been between you two lately and how you had been ignoring him.

The window between you two was quickly lifted by your shaky hands before you reached forward and pulled your boyfriend through the window. You studied his smaller form as he stared at the ground, not speaking yet.

With a sigh, you wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your head on his chest and pulling him close to you. You could feel his arms wrap around you and hug you close as a sob racked through his body.

You led the two of you to the edge of your bed so you could sit down. “Rafe, what’s going on?” You whispered, your hand trailing over his cheek to wipe the tears as you sat facing him. The boy in front of you shook his head, his hand gripping your free hand tightly as if he was afraid you’d leave him if he left you alone. Your face scrunched in confusion when your boyfriend mumbled something incoherent. “Hey, I can’t hear you,” your voice pleaded, holding onto his hand just as tightly.

“Please keep loving me,” he mumbled, his voice still barely above a whisper. With those words leaving his mouth, he looked up to meet your eyes, his own expression full of fear and hope just as conflicted as you currently felt.

Those words seemed to be his final plea as if he would be okay with anything else as long as you loved him, and the idea of that broke your heart. You could feel your brain scramble to think of what to say or how to feel, but you felt like nothing could match what he had just begged of you.

You leaned forward and kissed the tears on his cheek lightly, “I’ll always love you, Rafe” you said, your face still inches away from his own. “Even if it’s not good for me, I could never not love you, okay?” You added, wanting to express both your love for him and your frustration with him in the same sentence.

“I can’t lose you,” he said, his voice cracking as another cry fell from his mouth, “I’m so scared that I’m not in control of my life anymore and you’re the only thing that feels okay right now. Everything else has already gone to shit, I don’t know what I would do if I lost you.”

You frowned at his words, knowing that while his feelings were valid, you couldn’t be the only good thing in his life, it would take a toll on you even more so than it already had. “I’ll be here for you always, but that doesn’t mean it’s easy on me.” You paused, knowing the next words would be the hardest words you would ever have to speak, “Rafe, I think we should just be friends for now. It’s been so hard to see you pull away lately and it’s messing me up. I’ll still love you and be with you, but as a friend.”

His eyes scanned your face, trying to read you, but you knew that if you broke down, he would latch onto that and try to keep you around for longer. “Why?” The word fell out of his mouth quickly, trying to make sense of the whole situation, “I can’t be without you,” he added trying to pull you closer to him but you stayed put.

“It’s gonna be so much healthier for the two of us if we’re just friends. And maybe one day, when we’re both more mature, in a better spot in life, we can go back to each other, but right now we need to stop doing this.” You tried to explain, knowing he wasn’t going to like your answer. “But I want you to realize that I’m still here for you and I haven’t stopped loving you, but right now, loving you is hurting me.” With your last words, you felt a few tears run down your face, your innermost feelings finally coming to the surface and you couldn’t tell if they were freeing you or trapping you.

“Your lips on my smile are like bees ‘round a honeycomb. You see through my heart’s misty window and out of all the fingerprints, only yours will stay.”

Your boyfriend stared at you for a few minutes, choosing to stay silent so he wouldn’t hurt you even more with his words. You had just dumped him and his brain was still reeling with the concept. While he stayed silent, he was trying to figure out what this meant for you two and he hoped that you truly meant what you had just said.

You watched him with clear worry in your eyes, not being able to figure out what he was thinking was concerning you beyond belief. “Hey, I need you to say something, I just need to know what you’re thinking,” you said, your hand slightly turning his head up so he would look at you again. You watched as he pressed his cheek closer into your hand and closed his eyes, almost like he was trying to memorize the moment.

He stayed silent for a few more seconds before opening his eyes and looking at you, “can I just get one last kiss?” He asked you, his voice shaky from emotion but his question rang loud and clear.

You nodded at him, watching as a small smile spread over his face before he leaned in. Rafe paused for a second, almost as if preparing himself for the kiss, before connecting your lips lightly. You moved your other hand to cup his face so that both your hands rested on his cheeks as he kissed you. There was so much love filling the kiss that it created a rapid beat to your heart as you felt your boy smile into the kiss. A bittersweet feeling washed over you as you realized that the of you hadn’t kissed like this since the very beginning of your relationship.

You had to use all of your willpower to pull away, feeling your heart shatter into pieces as you opened your eyes to study the boy’s reaction. You took a shaky breath as he opened his eyes, knowing he was probably feeling the same way you currently were. The kiss had made you want to take back everything you had just said but you knew that the breakup was for the best.

Rafe stood up and headed back for your window and turned around, “I still love you,” he said, a small smile on his face as the words came out. To him, those words were more of a promise, they meant that the two of you would get back together. You couldn’t help but hate that there was something familiar about the words as if you’d be hearing them again soon and you couldn’t tell how that made you feel.

“I still love you too,” you whispered back, watching as he turned back around and exited your room, wishing he would turn around once more for a final goodbye, but you knew better than to hope for the impossible from him.

#Outer Banks #outer banks imagine #outer banks fic #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #angst #song fic #JJ Imagine #jj maybank #drew starkey #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey fic #rafe cameron fic

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lucarioisinthevoid · 4 years

Note

hello good sir (sir being a gender neutral term), i'd like to send some p r o m p t s. so i haven't played ucn in a LONG time, but some ideas off the top of my head: toy freddy (would be funny), funtime foxy (cause they're a bitch), n. fredbear and maybe nightmare (cause they're twisted versions of his b e l o v e d fredbear), and maybe foxy+bonnie (cause it's a bitch). just some ideas! also, being a man of culture, i'd like to request some tortu- jk, jk (i'd say sth funny but character limit).

(I will fight you for this ask. I will come to you home and pick you up and fling your body into space and into literal Among Us. My brain was going a mile a minute trying to gather enough coins to get rid of Funtime Foxy, and keep on top of EVERYTHING ELSE- And yet I was still surprised when I finally got jumpscared. Welp, I couldn’t have predicted it, so it’s kinda fun being able to write this now. Also yes, warning for mild torment! I’m just not good at writing it- Oh, also, here’s the AO3 link to the thing: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27687695/chapters/67764007 You can read the whole thing there and I update it there as I do here. You can request over there to, but that’s beside the point)

Be on top of his games. Watch his shows. Check in, but only at the right times. Henry grinded his teeth. It was almost like he had a son again- dear god, this truly was hell, wasn’t it? For a moment he had thought the Helpy robot was joking as he elaborated on what the damn plastic piece of shit’s mechanic was- No. No cursing. He shook his head. That was being petty for no reason. He had a mechanic- and it was a stupid one- but that was better than nothing. It was better than being told “you will die” without being able to do anything about it. For a moment he frowned, a though manifesting itself in the back of his mind. … if he would know there was no way to escape the pain, he would grow numb to it. So whoever or whatever set this up seemed to have a keen interest in- The clock chimed, it was time to play. Instantly he pulled up the monitor. He had been gifted the leeway of being allowed to eradicate one of them- and dear god, he would not say no, not if it was the only chance to give a little bit of payback. He checked on Toy Freddy- a good contender to be murdered- and clicked the door of the- vacuum cleaner- dear god, this would make his brain rot- then he moved on to more sensible things, like checking on Foxy, who was thankfully out, then moving over to gathering coins. Laughter from the door. “Mister Miller… look at you. You seem stressed.” “Why yes, I am quite tense.” Without looking up he closed the doors, opening them up right away. “I have to admit to my distain of the character selection that currently is coming after me. They make no sense, you see?” Another, similarly as deep voice sounded, albeit with a brighter tint to it- “… oh, don’t be ashamed of that, Mr. Miller. They have more distain for you than you do for them.” Once more, doors closed, doors open. He didn’t even need to look. “I can assume that, yes, but that is hardly my issue, is it now? My issue is their reality bending and tedious habits.” For this round he would be stuck on the cameras, wouldn’t he? Once more he flipped over to Foxy, gathering coins and being quietly thankful for the fact that he and Bonnie had not switched places yet. He had to get this done in the first time-warped hour and if he didn’t- he wasn’t sure when exactly the clock would move over and he didn’t want to find out. The nightmare duo was chuckling, so he shortly put the monitor down to look inside of Nightmare Fredbear’s red eyes. “… what are you supposed to be?” “You have never truly understood your own creation, did you…? If it lives… it changes…” “The only nightmare I ever created were the suits and-“ He turned to the other side, spotting the more pinkish eyes shining from that frame. “… you. Are you not supposed to be me?” “I think you can answer that yourself.” Shaking his head, Henry dismissed both of them, closing the doors and opening the camera feed, checking once more on Foxy, helping out Toy Freddy and finally snatching up the last few coins he needed- instantly he moved over to the price corner, ordering one of the silver coins- His eyes darted to the clock- Oh god, only a few more moments before the timer skipped- The pink hellfox was peering out of its cove, grinning widely- a grin that instantly was replaced by an agonized and hateful scream as Henry used the coin, allowing himself for a moment to watch the machine literally being disintegrated into clear silver dust. From the side, Nightmare Fredbear chuckled. “… how cruel.” “This is a dog-eat-dog world. You should not try to inflict onto others what you are not willing to go through yourself.” “Oh? Are you ready for what is coming for you then?” Abruptly Henry started laughing, as he once more checked on Foxy, then moved to Toy Freddy. “What? What is coming for me? Being brought back to Fredbear’s, except this time I am immortal, have inhuman strength and can start honing my ability to move whatever I desire with my mind? What a terrible fate you are threatening me with, Nightmare! I am appalled! How dare you gift me with everything I have ever wanted!” One last time he switched back to Foxy, then deactivated the monitors, assuming it was best to be on Foxy’s camera right away, so when he pulled the camera back up- His eyes fell on the little figure of Bonnie that was now on the table. For the love of god, how could he have been that stupid!? Looking up at Nightmare Fredbear’s red eyes, he saw a bit of bemusement in it- that and a deep, underlaying level of pure disgust. “… will you ever learn, Mr. Miller? Will you ever realize that the resistance you have been met with was not from nowhere? Will you learn that you cursed them?” “NONSENSE.” Henry HISSED. “I considered you smart. I was wrong. The only reason the children were struggling against me because I could not yet accommodate them well enough- propaganda against me and my mission was spread. William seemed to have been just fine with his joke of a family that he had gotten himself in a flight of passing fancy. What made him different?!” There was only silence from the outside, as Henry glanced once more at the figure. Still Bonnie and it wouldn’t change. Muttering more so to himself than to the Fredbear, he stressed his point. “Nature has turned on me for taking what I desired, much like the ocean, the skies and the land has turned against humanity at every opportunity. Even in the different religious texts, humanity and to steal and take with violence what it needed to become what it was meant to be. One god banished the species in fear of them becoming immortal, much like the being itself- another wanted to deny us fire as petty retaliation, because fire brings creation- and it had to be taken back by theft.” Not quite, but close enough. He didn’t want to recount the stories. “… if you want to grow, you have to feed, and if you feed, you destroy. And so, destruction brings new creation. We feed off the old gods and create new rules. Nature does not like to be controlled and abused- all it wishes is to slowly burn itself out. Until nothing is left. But we humans preserve- we are a species who is so defenseless, yet have made it this far, by preserving knowledge, by learning early, early and as much as we can- eventually however it will come to a standstill. You can only learn so much with the time given. Until said time become infinite. Some ills of humanity can only be cured by allowing humans to permanently remain and learn. For that we need immortality.” There still was only silence and he sighed- He had wasted too much time. The Bonnie figure was still there, but he might as well get it over with, he wouldn’t get around him disabling the cameras. Quickly he closed the door to the left side where he knew Nightmare Fredbear was waiting, pulling up the cameras, to Bonnie’s aggressive scream- But before he could really boot the thing up, a giant black paw came from above grabbing the little tablet, cracking it. The Amalgamation was towering over him, black fur and metal broken up by the silver shine of its teeth. Baffled for a few seconds, Henry looked at him. “I… did not hear you.” “The others are not your problem anymore, are they now?” With its vile grin it picked Henry up by the head, an incredibly painful experience, playfully throwing him against the wall with full force- a crack was sounded and as Henry tried to stumble back on his feet, he quickly realized he couldn’t- something was damaged, so badly that the pain was too much- His head was still sharp though, the white pain barely being fended off by his mind trying to figure out how this creature could be HERE- It had been HIM, it was HIM, what would make him want to- Blood was dripping from out his mouth, tasting disgustingly mechanical- “… you… you are supposed to be ME-“ Smiling the monstrous bear-esque beast picked him up, causing another wave of incoherent, glowing pain to wash through Henry, his whole chest being just enough to fill the Amalgamation’s hand. “I was you. We have seen all your thoughts, all your ideas, we have shaped, and we have remembered. You are me. And we crave violence, Mister Miller. Your words were pretty to hear, but we do not believe them. We know what we are- a monster who thinks of itself too highly, an animal unable to resist the siren call of violence and blood. Our creation has not made us better than all the monsters we feared becoming. There is only one difference between us… … I am not ashamed of my needs anymore.” With that he started pulling on Henry’s arm, pulling as the delirious man convulsed under him- Ready to take a bite out of it. “But I do love creation too… and I cannot wait to see what we will turn you into. The brain is moldable, Henry. It does fantastical things under pain and pressure…” His other claw was digging into the human’s head. The other was pulling the now separated arm to his maw, biting down with a sickening, wet crunch. Happily he sighed. The few seconds of Henry’s awareness that were left only wondered quietly if his parts being consumed would mean he would never get them back- The Amalgamation seemed to hear the thought, grinning at him with its now stained teeth. “I will vomit you back… to relieve your horror…” … with that Henry faded.

#henry miller #Henry in hell #oh also if you wonder that last thing is the real quote #not relive it IS relieve and it's so weird

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temporalwaveofmischief · 4 years

Text

Two pairs of feet were pounding against the gravel.

Tim opened both the driver and passenger side doors. After assisting Jay get into his seat, Tim got in and slammed the door, turned the ignition, and sped the hell out.

Tim's mind was in a million different places. His mind felt staticky. All his mind could think of was just getting the hell out.

He would never get used to its effects.

But, he managed to stand up to it right? He didnt even pass out. What changed? It could've been the adrenaline. From running into the tall grass field screaming Jay's name, to facing that asshole, it was possible.

'Okay.' Tim thought.

Next thing, where the hell were they going to sleep at? The car was the least ideal place for sleeping. And that thing and Alex were still out there. Motel it is.

Tim clutched the steering wheel until his knuckles were white.

The adrenaline was starting to wear off. They needed to find a motel soon.

Finally.

At Jay's side of the car there was a dingy motel. Tim pulled into the parking lot and parked the car near the entrance.

When Tim turned off the car, he checked on Jay. Jay was babbling incoherently. His eyes were unfocused, and his mouth was slack.

"Jay," Tim began, "I'm going to check us into here. Can you follow me to the front desk and wait?"

Jay said nothing.

Then, Jay looked around.

"Mmhmm."

Tim exited out of the car, and helped Jay out of his seat. Tim slung an arm around Jay's shoulders and approached the lobby.

A woman who appeared to be in her late 40s was manning the desk. She had a cigarette hanging out of her fingers.

The lobby itself reeked of smoke and bleach.

When Tim walked inside, the woman looked up.

"Hello. Whaddya want?"

Geez. So much for feeling at home. Well, it is a dingy hotel that looks as though it was a local hangout for druggies. So, quality was not going to be part of the equation.

"Ah, yes, we would like to book a room."

The woman goes to the cork board behind the desk and gets a key. She hands it to Tim.

"What's wrong with your friend?" She asked, her lazy, glazed eyes suddenly observing Jay.

"He's drunk. He is a light-weight." Tim said tiredly, waiting for this lady to leave them alone so that they can sleep.

The lady surveyed them. Then she gave out a huff and said, "Enjoy your stay."

Tim and Jay went to their room and sat down on the bed. Since money was running low, they only got one.

"How're doing Jay?"

Jay just stared up at him.

Sigh.

"I think both of us need a good night's sleep. We'll be better once we recharge."

Jay remained silent.

Tim gave up and went to the bathroom to brush his teeth and wash up.

Tim set up the camera on its tripod, and shed his trousers. Tim crawled on the bed and got underneath the covers.

"Come on, Jay. Time for bed."

Jay didn't respond.

Jay needed his sleep, so Tim got up and carried Jay to the bed. He tucked him into the covers and made sure he was warm.

Then, Tim got in beside him and turned off the bedside table.

"Good night, Jay."

Tim wrapped his arms around Jay's waist.

Tim woke up to a screaming Jay that was thrashing and crying. Tim tried to restrain Jay and calm him down, he received a kick in the face in return.

Tim fell to the floor in a dazed shock.

After the pain subsided after a few seconds, Tim restrained Jay again. Tim petted his hair and whispered comforting words like, 'everything is going to be okay.'

Gradually, Jay settled down and slowly went back to sleep. Tim wrapped his arms around Jay's form even tighter and kissed his hair.

Morning arrived when slivers of sunlight filtered through the blinds and hit Tim in the eyes.

Tim slowly opened his eyes, glaring at the sun for not allowing him to sleep longer.

Tim glanced over at Jay's sleeping form. Tim smiled at just how blissful he looks. Being on the road and running from people (and entities) that want you dead can rob a man of blissful peace. Something that most take for granted. Only when it's gone do you realize how much you've really needed it.

Tim ruffled Jay's hair and slowly got out of bed.

"Hey."

Tim was startled out of his mind. He was so startled in fact, he fell to the floor.

"O-oh. Hey Jay."

"Is tha' my name?"

Tim froze.

No. He can't. He-he can't!

"Jay, do you remember anything?"

Jay shook his head.

Tim pulled back his hair and brushed through them with his fingers.

Tim remembered his breathing exercises and let out erratic breaths. Slowly, he calmed himself down.

"Your," Tim began, "Your Jay Merrick."

"J-jay." Jay replied.

"Merrick." Tim finished. Jay looked down, and slowly wrapped himself in a blanket cocoon.

"And you're in a motel with me."

Jay looked up.

"Who are you then?"

Tim's heart wrenched.

"I'm Tim. Tim Wright."

Jay looked down again, immersing more of his body into the cocoon.

"Tim. Tim. Tim." Jay repeated his name over and over.

Tim let out an awkward chuckle, "Yeah, that's me."

Jay went silent. His eyes now had a blank film over them.

Tim shook Jay.

Nothing.

Sigh. At least that's progress.

Tim retreated to the bathroom and got showered and dressed. Once he got out, he made sure to replace the tape in the camera.

Tim's mind reeled. What was he going to do?He pretty much had no income, they were on the run from people trying to kill them, and Jay was mentally checked out.

But, his train of thought was soon disrupted when his stomach let out a loud, unruly growl. Before he was going to answer these questions and assess their situation, he was going to eat.

Tim went over to the bed.

"I'm going to get breakfast, Jay. Stay where you're alright?"

Where would he go?

Jay didnt respond.

Tim sighed once again, and tucked Jay snuggly into the blankets on the bed.

Tim went outside of their room and locked their door.

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

Tim unlocked the locks and stepped inside their room.

The breakfast was not the most terrible thing in the world, surprisingly.

He had eggs (which was burnt in some of the corners), fluffy pancakes drizzled in cheap syrup, and orange juice. His time in the café area was calm. He thought out some plans and ideas while he ate.

The plans were this: wait until Jay recovers.

Jay is in no condition to travel. If Tim were to go searching for something, and anything were to happen to Tim, then Jay would be vulnerable. And who knows what would happen to him.

"Breakfast." Tim called out to Jay.

Jay just laid there in the bed, his eyes transfixed in a nondescript corner of the room.

"You need to eat."

Tim put the breakfast on the nightstand. It was a simple breakfast: a muffin with some eggs and apple juice.

Tim grabbed the plastic cutlery and sat Jay up in the bed. Tim began feeding Jay.

Once he was finished, Tim disposed of the trash in one of their trash bins.

"Get some rest, bluejay."

Tim got out Jay's laptop and opened it up. He went to their YouTube and Twitter pages.

Tim spent the past few days in this routine.

Wake up. Get dressed. Check on Jay, make sure he's taken care of. Check their channel. Decipher codes with their followers until it was well into the night. Go to bed. Start again.

Then, there was a video uploaded to the channel.

The hooded stalker was looking for something in an abandoned building. Tim's blood ran cold when he saw it was a gun.

Then, the figure was descending down a street. Then, it turned down to a particular house, Tim's.

It was searching through his home. The cabinets, the living room. But then, he discovered that someone else had been in his home. Alex.

Fucking. Fantastic.

This set Tim incredibly on edge for the past few days.

To the point where Tim just. Cried in the bathroom. He threw things. He kicked and screamed. Tired. Just so fucking tired of this bullshit.

Jay seemed to make no progress whatsoever. Everytime he had tried to get him to do something. But, Jay would either respond with silence with that near lifeless glaze over his eyes, or with screaming.

Tim was in an especially dark place during that time. Self harming was on his mind frequently. He was just so. Fucking. Tired.

He had been dealing with terrible shit happening ever since day one.

But, if he did go through with the final act, Jay would get left behind. And, a small, possibly foolishly optimistic part of his brain didnt want to remove a chance of a happy ending for both of them.

To combat these feelings, Tim would play his ukulele and write in his journal. Just, random things. From little nonsensical stories he had been making up, to plans of what to do after this shitfest ends. It was... cathartic for him.

Then, a small beacon of hope came.

Tim was out on his usual run to get snacks from the gas station. It wasnt fancy, but it should get him going.

Tim drove back to their motel room.

Tim almost had a heart attack.

Jay was wandering outside of their motel room. Tim immediately got out, with the groceries, and led Jay back inside of their room.

"Where have you been?"

Tim froze. Jay seemed to be better. More coherent.

"Gas station." Tim replied, "needed some food."

"Are you alright, Jay?"

"Yeah?"

"You were really out of it for the past two weeks."

"Really?"

"Yeah. You were either staring off into space, or you were screaming. You didn't even remember your own name or where you were."

Jay sat in a stunned silence, digesting this information.

"W-what happened, Tim?"

Tim summarized everything that had happened and what their current situation is.

"We need to go back." Tim said.

"No, we do not."

"Yes, we do. We're at a dead end here. Alex was there. He was there waiting for us."

"Thus, we shouldn't go back."

"We have no other leads, bluejay." Tim said softly, his voice breaking on the last word. Tim began crying. He didnt know why he was crying. It could have been all the built-up stress and dark thoughts he had for the past few weeks.

Tim put his head in his hands.

Tim felt two arms snake their way across his body. This was what he needed. He just needed to be in Jay's arms.

"Let's get something to eat, yeah? You mentioned getting food from the gas station." Jay brought up.

"Y-yeah." Tim responded shakily.

Jay went over and got the contents from the bag.

They ate in silence.

They cleaned up, and went to bed.

Tim curled up against Jay, and Jay followed suit.

"Night, Tim."

"Night Jay."

And outside of their walls, there are entities beyond human comprehension, people who are willing to kill them without a moment's hesitation,

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nomnomsik · 5 years

Text

To Catch a Dream - 15

It’s difficult for Yoongi, who’s completely infatuated with you, to quietly remain your college friend. With a slow appearance of unusual tendencies in him, he realizes what he needs to do to attain his dream. However, jealousy and possession are universal in everyone.

Word Count: 2.3K

A/N: Thank you to @kimseokmomjins who stayed up late at night and read this chapter together with me!

Trigger warning: yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, profanity, yelling, manipulation, panic attack, mental breakdown, drugging, physical abuse. Please do not read if you are sensitive to these topics.

Perfect stillness.

On the pleasant Sunday afternoon, the apartment which was usually filled with its couple moving around now lay silent. With the sun setting off in the horizon, warm light filled into the living room with the sky’s blue tone forming a gradient of warm pink and orange. The white apartment complexes outside became a tint of warm yellow from the rays of the sun. Yet, the air was calm and chilly and smelled cold. The whole room was alive and lit in beautiful warm tones that danced off the walls.

You rocked your body back and forth in your chair as you sat, legs crossed in the bedroom, with a phone next to your ear. As you waited for the person on the other line to pick up, you brought your left hand up to your face, inspecting your trimly cut nails and slender fingers.

“Hello?”

Thank goodness. You relaxed, bringing your hand down and smiling to no one as you replied back calmly.

“Hello, Jimin.”

The floors of the bedroom creaked as you put more pressure into your left foot, humming as you waited for a response on the other line. The wind blew the curtains near the window, waving them and bringing in a tingly chill.

Maybe I should bring a blanket so no one gets a cold...

“I never expected you’d be the one to call me.” Jimin laughed from the other line, causing you to furrow your eyes. It had been a while since you had given Jimin a call even though you had asked Yoongi for his number so many years ago back in college. Jimin picked up with a crisp voice that you had missed after your ears had been swamped with screaming for the past few days.

“And why’s that?” You questioned almost defensively, offended why he couldn’t fathom you giving him a call. Jimin laughed at your intense and wary position as it carried into your end.

“Yoongi’s the one who always picked up any phone calls I sent.”

An irritating feeling grew in your stomach as you forced out a laugh. One side of your mouth twitched as you dug your heel even more, the floor groaning in pain. You shook your head in reluctance before continuing.

“Oh really? Well, he won’t be doing that anymore.”

Your voice trailed off as the clock in the room ticked, taking the place of your voice. Chirping birds from outside the apartment echoed in the spacious sleeping space, with one of its members taking a much-needed rest. Sounds of movement came from Jimin’s side before he spoke again.

Jimin bit his tongue, wanting to question why, but holding off, your voice filled with tension as if it was a secret to never ask. Instead, he shifted the topic.

“So, y/n, how’s life so far? I haven’t had a long conversation with you in what feels like forever after your incident in the hospital.”

“Right.” You agreed, trying not to remember those terrible memories that sent an eerie chill down your spine. “Well, I moved into a new apartment. I can send you the dets later about it. How about you?”

“Me? Oh…” Jimin took several seconds to think before coming to a good enough answer. “Well, Jungkook and I, we’re… Our relationship has gotten better, I guess.”

You gave an interesting hum as your eyes traveled back down to the floor before you quickly snapped your head up. A slight noise of irritation came from your mouth as your eyes caught your battered hands, red and sore.

“That’s good…” You muttered, placing your hand on your lap, your eyes trailing up to the ceiling. “I don’t want any more surprise kisses if I’m being honest.”

You could hear Jimin vocally sigh before agreeing. “Yeah… I’m sorry about that, y/n. I hope you can forgive me.” You shrugged internally, twirling your hair through your finger.

“Ah, it’s whatever. I don’t remember it that well. Besides, we don’t have any tension when we talk to each other. I feel perfectly the same as if I were in college again.”

Jimin hummed, something squeaking from his line. “You’re right. I actually didn’t think about it either, even though we met again at the event dinner.”

You hummed in agreement, the call falling into a comfortable silence. It was brief before Jimin jumped. “Ah, y/n! I was going to ask you something about this before but I forgot. When are you getting married? I’m asking because… oh whatever, I want an invitation...for champagne”

A laugh erupted from your chest as you buckled over. “I think… Yoongi would be absolutely livid. He’d get you kicked out on the spot. Might even kill you.” The two of you laughed together, your voices seeming to unify together. “Also… I don’t think I’d ever want to marry him. He’s absolutely crazy. Fucking psychopath.”

“Psychopath?” Jimin questioned. “You can’t be serious, y/n.” Jimin laughed from the other line. “Your parents letting you marry a psychopath? That sounds shady. Your parents would kick your ass if they hear you say that about your groom to be.” He mocked you, emphasizing the ‘groom’, a sudden urge in your body to kick him the next time you see him.

“Ah, I’ll deal with that when it comes.” You let out a loud sigh, your feet stamping on the floor as you sat seated in the uncomfortable chair. “Also, I meant, Yoongi’s behavior changed once I started listening to him.”

“Y/n…” Jimin’s voice shifted as it was filled with a hint of sadness. “Are you alright? Is he hurting you?”

“I’m fine.”

“B-but...Jungkook and I… We saw your neck that day in the city”

Jimin knew. Nobody wants to talk about their issues, their traumatic memories. But he cared. He would do anything to help you just like how you inspired him in to be outgoing, almost ruthless for the goals you wanted. His dreams… his dreams once seemed unattainable and yet, he’s never been this closer. He wanted to see you, to wipe those tears that were certainly on the brink of streaming down your delicate face.

“Hey y/n... I’ll always hear you out.” He whispered as if his fingers were caressing your skin to reassure him, to bring comfort back into your eyes.

"You don't have to act tough…" Jimin's voice came in small, filled with a sort of empathy as if he understood. You scoffed to yourself, how could he ever understand? Jimin? The man who got whatever he wanted because his life was easy. The man who could get what he wanted because his parents didn’t care. Even though you needed his words, you couldn’t help the boiling rage inside of you. "You're acting so nonchalantly but… you were scared right?"

A long silence overcame the phone call as both sides filled with silence, with only the quiet hum of breathing...

“Y/n, you can always talk to me. Y/n? Hello?”

“I’m alright, Jimin.” You grit out as you tightly held onto your phone, trying to contain the bitterness that laced your voice, the irritation at the contrast of both of your lives.

“No, y/n. Please. I’m right here.” Jimin insisted, your temper only increasing.

“Long story short, he tricked me a lot and well, let’s just say he had a field day stabbing syringes in me filled with who knows what. Happy? Now stop asking about it.”

“Y/n, please. I’m trying to help. Can’t you trust me?” Jimin’s voice cracked through the receiver, your anger slowly subsiding as your stomach fell. There was something about his sincerity, his concerns that seemed to touch your heart. When was the last time someone cared? When was the last time someone asked about your opinion? What if you didn’t want to get married? What if you too, wanted a career? But, nobody bothered to ask. You were merely a piece of a collection, a part of a display, set to watch from the glass confinement out at the rest of the world.

Taking a deep breath, your hand trembled as you confessed to Jimin. “I found a way to de-stress, to maintain peace of mind.”

Jimin perked up at a part of your truth, his lips curling up to a smile on the other line, glad you were able to trust him. However, his happiness slowly subsided, confusion taking over.

“How do you destress?”

“Revenge.”

Jimin remained silent for a second, an unsettling feeling filling the call before he forced himself to reply back.

“Revenge?” His mind denied the thoughts that swarmed in his head, but... He needed to make sure. “Did you… Did you hit him?”

The line went cold, pure, heavy silence, filled the line as Jimin nervously darted his eyes. Biting his lip, he waited anxiously on the other side, his face going cold.

“Yeah.”

It was one word. A single word that shook Jimin’s body as he felt fear ride his body.

“He deserved it.”

Jimin was speechless, his mouth hanging open as he took several to recover, sputtering over his words. Incoherent thoughts filled his brain as he failed to process the information. You? You being physical? It was unrealistic.

“Did you not see those bruises and bloody scabs all over my body?”

Jimin gulped loudly, whispering in uneasiness.

“I did… But…” That doesn’t make you any different than him if you do that.

“Don’t worry so much, Jimin.” You spoke, laced with a cheerful tone that seemed odd to him. “My parents won’t let him do things to me anymore. He knows I’d tell them.”

Then why didn’t you already?

“Right. I trust you have everything under control.” He lied, feeling drained from the emotional rollercoaster. “I’ll talk to you later, okay y/n? Stay safe.”

“Okay. See you soon.”

As you brought the phone down, you tossed it onto the bed before standing up from the chair and squatting down, coming closer to the floor.

“So pretty..” You smiled, poking Yoongi’s cheek as he lay on the floor right in front of the chair where you sat in. His hair, bent and beaten, darted out in several directions from the times you dug your heels into him as he lay unconscious. Completely passed out, his eyes shut and his breathing steady, you couldn't help the satisfaction of watching him in such a weak and vulnerable moment. On his skin, red marks blossomed from recent altercations that happened a few hours before.

“Doesn’t feel good now does it?” You mocked, smirking before standing up and walking out of the room, locking the door like he had done so many times.

From chores to lounging around in the living room, your days were always uneventful, only waiting for Yoongi to come back home. Before your outburst a few hours ago, days were much more peaceful, with Yoongi slowly returning back to his college self, loving, caring, and an uneasy normalness that fueled your bitterness towards his frightening actions.

Yet it changed today.

Yoongi came walking through the door, slipping off his shoes as he entered the living room, where you lay relaxed. The only problem was the mask on his face. That accursed black surgical mask that tormented you in your dreams, that alerted you of incoming doom, and most importantly, needles being stabbed into your skin.

You trembled in fear, as memories, terrible memories flooded your mind. His punishments, always will that blasted mask, engraving in your mind it's terror. A sick sense of familiarity hit you, seeing Yoongi wear the piece of cloth across his face. You remembered the threats that spilled from his listless, muffled voice as he held a syringe in hand.

Today, something overcame you. Something violent took over; a rush of adrenaline, a rush of anger, pain, and resentment took over your body as you flipped out. You lashed out at him, surprising him at the heat of the moment, tackling him until the back of his head hit the wooden floors. Pain shot through Yoongi’s body as he struggled to bring his hands up to cradle his head, trying to do something to ease the tremor in his skull.

You hit him. You hit him so hard in the face, your dominant hand extending back at your nails grazed the skin of his face, his head recoiling to the side as he groaned. As you took deep breaths, Yoongi’s eyes were red and watery as they locked with your yours, his heart breaking.

You remembered how sore your throat was after he had passed out. With no recollection of what you said, you couldn’t feel guilty. Yoongi, utterly confused, but a slight hint of comprehension to your actions only whimpered.

“I only love you, p-please stop,” Yoongi whispered into the cloth, sniffling as he had stared up at you. Your eyes could barely recognize him as Yoongi. To you, he was the enemy, someone who hurt you too many times, someone who would only hurt you, someone you should never trust again.

With a sick smile, you scrunched your eyes almost in elation from finally overpowering your offender.

“Love hurts, baby.”

#yandere bts #yandere yoongi #yandere suga #to catch a dream #yandere yoongi x reader #yoongi x reader #bts x reader #yoongi fanfiction #bts yoongi #bts suga

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ts-into-the-coinverse · 4 years

Text

Made of Love, Chapter 28

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Table of Contents

Ship(s): Logicality, (platonic) Prinxiety

All Characters: Thomas, Virgil, Roman, Logan, Patton, Dr. Picani, Joan, Talyn, and Deceit

Synopsis: Humans Roman and Virgil get wrapped up in some serious magic business without meaning to. Their other companions aren’t exactly as they seem, either. Together they all must defeat a great threat for the safety of humanity.

Chapter Desc.: Fellas, is it gay to cuddle your homies to comfort and give them warmth? Virgil's asking for a friend.

TW: Cursing

Prefer to read it on Ao3? Click here!

To say that they watched Logan like a bomb reaching its final digits was an understatement. The rest of the day, Roman, Patton, and Virgil refused to let him out of their sight. Virgil was sure he was annoyed with the constant attention, but he proved too exhausted to argue.

He didn’t recall what happened.

All he felt was pain. His chest ached and he was sure his limbs were being pulled apart from his body, but then he woke up on the couch. From his perspective, it was a mere few seconds between unfusing and waking up at home, when really it was several minutes. Several, tense minutes that stretched to feel like hours. But this also meant they were still lost on what happened.

“Maybe you should head to bed,” Patton said softly near the end of the day. He held Logan's face in his hands. "My stupid, brilliant mage." He brought their foreheads together.

Logan hummed, eyes fluttering closed and wrapping his hands around Patton's wrists. "Some of those words don't seem like they should go together."

"And yet you make it work."

A soft laugh passed Logan's lips. "Don't be mean while I'm gone."

Patton's hands lingered on Logan's face as he stood up. "I won't, I promise."

"Alright. Goodnight, everyone."

They all wished him goodnight before he shuffled down the hall. Patton kept his eyes on him until he disappeared from view. The stress didn't leave with him. There was still a high amount of worry in the air, clinging to their throats.

After a beat of silence, Patton broke it with, "Virgil, let me see your ankle."

Virgil blinked in surprise. He didn't tell Patton about his ankle. He didn't even mention it out loud. And even if he did, he half expected Patton to not do anything about it. "What?"

"I saw the way you were walking. Show me."

He didn't think he made it that obvious. Truth be told, it didn't even hurt all that much. Regardless, he did as he was told.

When Patton pushed his pant leg up, Roman winced at the sight. It was swollen and there were already faint bruises forming around the bone. "How did this happen?"

“Spider Lady decided to web my foot when I was running.” Virgil suppressed a wince when Patton placed his hands on his ankle. Okay, so maybe it hurt a bit more than he thought at first.

“It’s only a sprain.” Almost as if to emphasize it wasn’t that bad, Patton retracted his hands. It looked and felt fine. “Next time, don’t turn your back on a threat.”

Virgil moved his foot around. Nothing protested against the action, so he curled up with his legs on the armchair and offered Patton a tiny thanks.

Patton nodded in acknowledgment, sparing a glance at Roman as he did so. A sad, bitter smile spread across his face. “That’s a familiar look.”

Roman steeled away his expression, almost defensively. “What look?”

“That’s a look Booker always gave me whenever I did something overly Machai.” Catching sight of their minor confusion, he elaborated, “Thomas’s dad.”

“Why would he do that?” Roman asked before Virgil could.

Patton sighed, heavy with memories. “He didn’t trust me at first. He was convinced I would do something to hurt them. Not that I can blame him or anything. The Machai didn't exactly give themselves a household name by being friendly.” He sat back with a small grimace. “We tolerated each other for Logan and Brigida’s sake, but we learned to get along eventually. He didn’t have any more problems with me until… well…” He fidgeted with his fingers. “After Arlene took Logan, I… I did some things I’m not proud of. Things I don’t think Logan would ever forgive me for doing if he ever knew. And I… I think I scared them.” Hurt and regret showed clearly on his face before he shook his head to rid himself of it. “He much preferred Picani, anyway.”

Virgil frowned. "So you didn't get along at first."

Something almost sounding like a laugh left Patton's mouth. "Goodness, no. I mean, Brigida trusted me only because Logan did — and she had never heard of a Machai elf before. But Booker knew what I was from the beginning." He paused. He stared at a blank space on the wall. "Sometimes I could swear he knew the things that I did from the way he looked at me." There was another pause before he composed himself. "It took about a century or two until we actually liked each other."

"Why did he even stay if you didn't like each other?" Roman asked.

Patton didn't look as if he wanted to answer, but visibly reconsidered. "He was staying with Brigida. And Brigida only wanted to stay because she saw that Logan and I were on our own. She practically started mothering us the second she saw we were just two kids by ourselves. There was no way she was leaving."

There was another beat of silence before Roman stood up. "I think I'm gonna head to bed, too." He didn't wait for anyone to respond before leaving the room.

Virgil frowned again. He made to follow after him, but Patton stopped him.

"Virgil wait."

He looked back.

Patton was on his feet with a forlorn expression on his face. He struggled to find the right words. "I'm sorry. For, for everything. I wasn't — I didn't think about how much it would actually hurt you. I just… needed someone to be mad at. It wasn't fair."

Virgil hesitated. He wasn't quite sure how to respond.

“You don’t accept this as a good apology. You don’t ever have to accept any apology, even. I’m going to do whatever I can to make it up to you. I just hope that one day I’ll be able to earn your forgiveness.”

Without thinking much of his answer, yet meaning every single bit of it, he said, “You will.” then left to go check on Roman.

The next morning he woke up content and comfortable. It took his sleepy brain a few seconds too long to realize why that was. And it was because he was in Roman’s bed. With Roman. They were still in their clothes from yesterday, which indicated that they fell asleep during their talk last night. Their legs were tangled together and Roman’s face was buried in Virgil’s chest. He doesn’t remember how they ended up this way, but then he thought back to the very first night they ever spent in this house and how Roman had clung to him then. It seemed Roman just found the closest warm body and latched onto them. Sort of like a leech.

Unfortunately, it meant Virgil was stuck. One of his arms was underneath Roman. With his free hand, he searched blindly for his phone. It was a bit difficult since his hoodie was half off and Roman held onto it as if it would disappear, but he managed. He squinted through his sleepiness and saw it was a bit after ten o’clock. They slept in.

Virgil figured Roman was going to be pretty peeved about it, but maybe he should have woken up earlier.

Right on time, Roman started to stir. He stretched across Virgil like he was unaware he was there at all. Then he opened his eyes. He blinked at Virgil a few times, not saying anything, until he whispered a soft, “Good morning.”

Virgil held back a scoff. “You gonna get up now?”

Roman sighed, snuggling closer to Virgil. “No.”

Of course. Virgil rolled his eyes but didn’t make any intentions to move. He’d never admit it out loud, but he was pretty cozy. It was warm despite the fact that they were on top of the blankets rather than under them. Roman was like a mini heater. “Do you feel any better?”

“Hmm. A little bit.” It sounded like he was going to fall back asleep. “Feel less confused.”

That made one of them at least. During their talk last night, Virgil started to wonder why their experiences were so different. Roman could recall more things about his past life than Virgil could. Not specific details or exact scenes, but enough to recognize there were memories that weren’t his. He admitted that his most vivid dreams were always altered in some way to fit his life. His mom, dad, and siblings used to show up in them, for example, and say things that wouldn’t make any sense — make references he shouldn’t have understood. Yet he did. At least in the dream. And then Virgil started showing up in them the moment they met.

Really, that should have been a hint that something was up, but regardless… Why did Virgil not have the same thing? Assuming that Booker and Brigida died around the same time from similar circumstances, shouldn’t that mean their reincarnations would experience similar things? But that wasn’t the case. It was like Virgil had a vague, shaky connection with Brigida. A faded childhood memory at best. And then there was Roman, who seemed to be stuck in the past as well as the present.

He had no idea how past lives worked. Roman had no idea how past lives work. There was a chance no one else in the house knew either. It was a weird situation all around. Perhaps it was something that could only be learned through experience.

Whatever the fuck that entailed.

Their cuddling was interrupted by a knock at the door, making Roman groan. Virgil felt the vibrations in his chest. Even more so when Roman answered with a cranky, "What?"

Patton popped his head in somewhat hesitantly. He didn't comment on their position or acknowledge it in any way. "I was just wondering if you two were awake for breakfast. I was about to start on it."

Roman grumbled something incoherent.

"We'll be out in a bit," Virgil answered.

Patton left with a nod.

"I'm not moving," Roman mumbled, getting cozier as if to prove his point.

"You're gonna have to eventually. You're really gonna stay in yesterday's clothes all day?"

That was more than enough motivation, so it seemed.

After their small breakfast, Virgil realized they were missing people. He almost didn’t notice due to the last few days of everyone being mad at someone and refusing to even entertain their presence. But they were over that now. Somewhat. “Where are Logan and Thomas?”

“Thomas spent the night with Joan and Talyn,” Patton responded from where he was cleaning the kitchen. “And Logan’s still sleeping.”

“Still?” Roman questioned. “Hasn’t it been like twelve hours?”

"Give or take." He stopped what he was doing with a sigh. "I can't imagine whatever happened to him is easy to recover from. I couldn't… do anything about it."

And that was the worrying part. If Logan had to do this on his own, it wouldn't be good. It was getting rough. As time progressed, it got worse and worse until who knew what would happen next. They had to do something. What that was, they didn’t know. The only solution so far was to get his magic back to him. But no one knew how long that would take. If it ever happened at all.

“I’m sure he’ll bounce back,” Roman said. It almost sounded like he was trying to convince himself. “Nothing’s been able to keep him down yet.”

Logan still didn’t wake up even as it approached one o’clock. Patton checked up on him every few minutes, unable to stay still in any way. He came back with the same results: still sleeping, but alive. He couldn’t do a thing to change it. Which Virgil assumed must have bothered him. His whole magical identity was about healing people, but he couldn’t help the one person who needed it.

“Alright,” Patton sighed for the millionth time as he walked down the hall. “Thomas needs a ride back and I’m taking him grocery shopping with me. You guys need anything?”

Roman waved his hand without lifting his eyes from the computer screen.

Virgil rolled his eyes. “We’re good, Patton.”

“Call me if anything comes up.” He grabbed his keys and left.

Virgil sighed and put his head back down on the couch. He was scrolling mindlessly through random apps on his phone so he could have something to do. The house was too quiet. Even with Roman grumbling to himself over things about the photo he was editing. The quiet was just different today. Maybe it had to do with the potential doom. Maybe. There was no way to tell for sure.

Either way, Virgil tried not to think about it. The timelines that haunted his dreams had finally backed off. But their images still stayed. He knew too many ways in which this could end. There was a lot. So many. But he also knew that he didn’t know all of them. He wasn’t a Seer. His brain wouldn’t be able to handle all of that information. He didn’t know what was worse; knowing a few timelines or not knowing all of them. Would knowing all of them have better odds? Would it not matter either way? Well, there was one thing he knew for sure — this sure as hell wasn’t helping his anxiety.

He decided to play a game to use his brain for better things.

After twenty minutes or so (in which Roman loudly exclaimed he fucked up something and Virgil loudly ignored him), Logan shuffled down the hall. They didn’t notice him at first — he was so quiet — but when Virgil glanced up he almost dropped his phone on his face. Partly because he was startled. Partly because Logan looked like a goddamn ghost. He was curled in on himself, holding onto his arms like there was a cool chill blowing through him. There were bags growing under his eyes. They didn't look too focused. Like something woke him up before he was ready.

"Where's Patton?" He asked. Was he trembling?

Virgil sat up, alarmed. "He just left. Dude, are you okay?"

"It's cold."

It wasn't. "Yeah. Okay. Come over here." He stood up as Logan walked over to him. He placed a hand on his forehead and pulled back with a hiss. His skin was ice cold. It almost hurt to touch. "Shit. You're freezing." He gently set Logan down on the couch and shot Roman a worried glance.

"I'll make hot chocolate." He took off to the kitchen.

Virgil shrugged off his hoodie and put it around Logan. He was just about swimming in it, but he didn't appear to mind. He curled further into it like a blanket. To aid the heat, Virgil joined him on the couch and brought him close to his side. Even through the fabric Virgil could feel the cold. It was like trying to warm up an ice cube. “What the hell is happening to you?”

Logan shook his head, crawling closer to Virgil’s warmth. “I don’t know.”

He tried to suppress a shiver when their skin touched. God, he was freezing. “I’ll get Roman to call Patton.” He heard the heater turn on and held back a sigh of relief. As much as he wanted to help Logan, he could feel his own heat being seeped out. It wouldn’t do any good if both of them were cold. “Roman —”

“I got it.” He had his phone up to his ear as he walked back into the kitchen.

This time, Virgil did let out a sigh. He could feel Logan shivering still so he wrapped both arms around him and held him closer. Logan was practically in his lap at this point, but neither of them cared to comment on it.

“I’ve never been so cold before,” Logan spoke around chattering teeth. “I didn’t know it was possible.”

“Yeah, well, usually people are in cold places when that happens. Maybe you’re just lucky.” Virgil didn’t understand how Logan's body could be so cold. The house wasn’t even remotely chilly. It was a comfortable temperature. And yet Logan felt like he had been rolling around in the snow.

Roman walked into the living room with a steaming mug. “Patton said he’s on his way.” He handed the mug over. Logan made minimal effort to move and grab it with unsteady hands. Roman frowned at that. “You know, skin-to-skin contact is best for hypothermia.”

Both Logan and Virgil immediately shot that down. “If you try to take off anything, I’ll break your fingers,” Logan added. Though it didn’t sound very threatening with his weak voice and chattering teeth. “And I’m not experiencing hypothermia.”

“How would you know? Most people that experience hypothermia don’t even realize that it’s happening.”

Logan paused. “I hate when you’re right.”

A faint smile twitched at Roman’s lips. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Be right back.” He left before Virgil could question him. He returned a moment later with an armful of blankets from his room. “I’m not going to try to pretend I know what the fuck is going on, but at least I can try to apply what I do know.” He wrapped the blankets around both of them before joining them on the couch.

Virgil could already feel the warmth the blankets were holding in, but he could also feel how cold Logan still was. There wasn’t much else they could do. Warming up took time. If it worked. And Virgil hoped it worked. He didn’t know what they would do if it didn’t. He didn’t even know what would happen if they didn’t. If a person succumbed to hypothermia, then the end was less than optimal. But this wasn’t a normal case of hypothermia. They were in a warm house in Southern California in the middle of the afternoon. None of those things combined caused hypothermia.

It had to be a magic thing, and if this was a magic thing, then what the hell would be the end outcome? Would it be the same? Would it be worse? Would something else happen? He didn’t fucking know. He doubted Logan even knew; he didn’t seem all that lucid. This was weird and different and stressing Virgil down to his very last nerves.

Patton rushed through the front door not long after. Virgil was almost sure he was going to bust it off its hinges again. Thankfully, it stayed attached, and Thomas trailed in behind him with less urgency and more confusion.

“Are you okay?” Patton kneeled in front of Logan and took his face in his hands. “Oh, honey, you’re freezing. How did this happen to you?”

“We were kind of hoping that you would have some answers,” Virgil replied. “None of us know anything. He just came out like this.”

“Umm,” Thomas stood awkwardly to the side, “did I miss some things?”

Roman, Virgil, and Patton all glanced at each other. Roman was the one to stand up. “Come on,” he led Thomas away, “I’ll catch you up.”

Patton took his spot. “I don’t — I don’t know what this is.” He hesitantly retracted his hands, yet they still hovered. “I don’t know where to start. I don’t know what I’m looking for.” He looked at Virgil, lost and helpless. “There has to be something else you can give me.”

Virgil’s chest twisted. “I’m sorry. I know as much as you.”

He turned his eyes to Logan. “Are you okay? Do you hurt anywhere?”

Logan shook his head. “It’s just cold.”

“I can’t do anything against the cold, sweetheart, I’m sorry.” He dropped his hands. “You’re just gonna have to wait for Virgil to warm you up.”

It took a while for that to happen. But after two cups of hot chocolate, a heating pad provided by Roman, Patton fluttering around nervously, and a very sweaty Virgil, Logan wasn’t frozen anymore. The color returned to his cheeks and he fell asleep with his face buried in the crook of Virgil’s neck. This was great for a number of reasons. Number one; Logan wasn’t dead. Number two; Virgil was going to be free from the heat generator they made. And number three; Patton would stop suffocating them with his worry.

It wasn’t a secret that he was upset about not doing anything. Despite things still being awkward between him and Virgil, he couldn’t stay away for long. He would walk away for a minute or two, but then come back and hover nearby. He wasn’t patient. It wasn’t a habit of his to wait around for someone else to make people get better — he made people better. He could heal cuts, bumps, and scrapes… but not sicknesses. And that’s what this was, really. A sickness. Logan was getting sick without his magic, and he would just get sicker and sicker until either he got it back or Altair won.

“I’ll take him off your hands,” Patton whispered. He began to pull back the blanket layers to gather Logan in his arms. Virgil’s hoodie still hung over his shoulders. Before he carried Logan off, he stopped to give Virgil his full attention. “Thank you.”

Virgil paused mid-shrugging off blankets to stare at him. “For what?”

“For helping him.”

“It’s not like I would have let him freeze.”

“I know, but…” He glanced down. “I was completely useless. I, I wasn’t able to do anything. And I probably won��t be able to do anything in the future. So it… it just means a lot to me to know that someone else cares.”

Virgil considered his words. “We all care.”

“And I’ve never been more grateful for that.”

Virgil watched him go without another word. He continued to push off the blankets so he could cool off. He considered, for a moment, if this was the first time Patton ever had to put Logan’s life in someone else’s hands. But he had a funny feeling that wasn’t true.

The next morning, he woke up to find his hoodie at the foot of his bed. A purple patch over the hole in his pocket that he hadn’t had time to fix.

(Next)

#sanders sides #logan sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #thomas sanders #logicality #platonic prinxiety #cursing #made of love

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fraink5-writes · 6 years

Text

Human Qualification- Chapter 15

January 1

New year; new angst.

Happy (belated) birthday, Rika ( @leio13 )! I hope the second part of this fic counts as a sufficient gift!

Of course, I’d like to thank @missmizpah @gracieuxetoile and @deathly-oreos for reading this over!

Summary: To slowly lose all your functions until you are nothing but a trapped mind in a deteriorated shell, that’s what it means to be ‘No Longer Human.’

This chapter can also be found on Ao3 here. Without further ado, please enjoy!

“Good morning, Dazai, and Happy New Year.”

“...Morning?” Dazai was aware that his reply was incomprehensible. He could have groaned and made the same sound. But, his mind was still groggy, so he let the unintelligible murmur slide.

“Yeah, you slept through the bells.” Chuuya was busying around the room, fully dressed up. “Sorry. You looked so tired I let you sleep.”

“It’s just some bells. It’s fine.” Dazai was too distracted by Chuuya’s clothes. “...Are you going somewhere?” On New Year’s?

“Yeah, I was going to visit the shrine. Do you want to come?”

“Do I have to?”

“No, I guess not. No one is going to force you. But you did miss the bells.”

“Then I’m going to sleep.” As if supporting his words, a yawn forced its way from Dazai’s lips. “I don’t believe in such superstitions, in any case.”

Chuuya raised an eyebrow. “Do you want me to pray for you, anyway?”

“Sure. Please ask for a beautiful woman with whom I can commit double suicide.”

Chuuya pushed Dazai’s forehead. “Who the fuck am I?!”

“I don’t want you to die, Chuuya.” Dazai grinned sweetly, a hint of malice glimmering in his teeth.

“How thoughtful of you.” The irritated hand on Dazai’s head lightened its grip. “Get some rest, okay?” After brushing the bangs from Dazai’s face for one last look (a mixture of affection and concern), Chuuya turned towards the door. “When I return, I will make you regret those words.”

“Do your best...” Dazai had fallen back into sleep before he heard Chuuya exit the apartment.

Dazai reawoke at an uncertain hour in the afternoon. Judging from the silence, Chuuya was not home—not that Dazai was particularly concerned; he trusted Chuuya’s judgement. What was surprising was that Dazai was hungry. The feeling had become nearly alien to him—so much so that Dazai was startled by cavernous trembling. The accompanying pain was not as usual, but, nonetheless, Dazai was determined to quench his hunger. If anything, Dazai was grateful that he still had an appetite at all (even if it showed up only on rare occasions).

Dazai’s body was not on his side, putting up a sluggish (but effective) resistance. His legs cried out in pain when he shifted his weight, and worst yet, the world rocked back and forward—or was that he? Nevertheless, clinging to the hope that food would give him strength, Dazai pulled himself to the kitchen. Each piece of furniture became a prop for Dazai to lean against as he scaled the walls.

Perhaps Dazai wouldn’t be able to cook something, but he could still heat up leftovers.

Or not. Dazai didn’t make it to the refrigerator. Sliding against the counter, Dazai’s foot got snagged, his grip disappeared, and he hit the ground with a thud. A low moan slipped from his lips as sparks ran down his nervous system. His vision filtered in and out of focus before Dazai registered the state he was in. The stinging pain froze his limbs, so he decided to wait a few minutes before standing up again.

In the meanwhile, Dazai didn’t want to waste time. What would he have for lunch? Eyeing the refrigerator, he tried to run through a list of the food inside. His head was scrambled, and items didn’t come easily to mind. After a slow minute, he finally recalled one of the leftovers—the KFC—it was shameful that was still there. He had told Chuuya he would eat it, but shortly after, his appetite had vanished. Putting aside his guilt, what else was in there? Once again, his brain failed him. It was a broken tape recorder, playing the same track again and again and again. KFC. KFC. KFC. Evidently, that was Dazai’s fate, to eat the fried chicken.

Of course, Dazai’s fate was much worse than he presumed. A few minutes had passed, but, physically, Dazai was the same as before: lying on the floor, pain shaking his limbs. A fog had settled into his skull, making coordination difficult. He kicked out one leg—it felt oddly distant, except the pain which flared up. And his arm—although he could feel the cold tiles below his palm and the ache which ran up and down, his arm did not feel like his own, and, either way, it couldn’t lift Dazai. All of Dazai’s strength had been knocked out of his body upon his impact with the floor. Not satisfied with his current situation, Dazai jerked his remote limbs several to no avail. Instead, whatever remaining energy he had seeped from his body into the floor. The Earth was a giant sponge, absorbing Dazai’s strength, energy, hunger, pain, and finally consciousness.

In the kitchen, time was frozen. The tick of a distant clock had slurred until it blended away into the white noise. Through the window, sunlight streamed so consistently not even shadows danced on the floor. Nothing moved. And yet, when Dazai was awake, time moved so unbearably slowly, although it was impossible to measure. Seconds were confounded with minutes, and minutes with hours. The only certain marker of time was the dreadful pounding of Dazai’s heart banging against his eardrums. Sometimes its beating would rouse Dazai, throwing itself into a frenzy. Sometimes it would lull Dazai back into sleep. Awake or asleep, nothing changed. Nothing moved. The only difference Dazai could find when opening his eyes was that everything was subtly more blurry until there was no point of opening them at all.

Dazai’s eyes shot open, and his vision came into focus. The sunlight was now a distinct golden yellow, pooling over him on the floor. It was the click of a lock which had stirred Dazai.

Chuuya.

“Tsuuya…!” Dazai’s calls started as low groans, growing in volume with increased desperation. Dazai hated the sound of his voice, the way he consistently failed to say his partner’s name. He could hear it distinctly in his head, “Chuuya,” but it never carried over to his lips. Somewhere along the way, it had become distorted—ugly. Without any regard to Dazai’s opinions, his body kept shouting, as though the words weren’t words at all but primal calls.

“Dazai?!” Chuuya raced over to Dazai’s side. “What happened?!”

“Tsuua.” That incoherence was all Dazai could sigh out. His throat burned.

“Dazai… what happened?” Chuuya inspected Dazai and must have realized that he wasn’t going to an answer because he swiftly disregarded his question. “I’m here, okay?” He gently scooped up Dazai. “Is this okay?”

There was a persistent ache, but Dazai figured that wouldn’t go away regardless. He nodded.

“Anyway, I’m sorry for being away for so long. Can you fucking believe that bastard, Mori Ougai, had a mission for me to do? On New Year’s?”

“Bastard,” Dazai spat. It was easier to talk about Chuuya’s experience than his own, which was still a haze of confusion and dread.

Chuuya softly lowered Dazai onto his bed. “So, how long were you on the fucking floor?”

“I don’t know...”

“You don’t fucking know?” Picking at his gloves, Chuuya paced in a small circle in front of Dazai. “What. Happened. Dazai?”

“I fell. That’s it.”

“‘That’s it?’ Nothing else happened?”

“No...” Anything else which may have happened had blurred into oblivion.

Chuuya inhaled sharply, bringing his hand to his forehead in frustration. “Sorry,” he exhaled. “Can I sit down?”

“Be my guest.”

“I’m sorry. If you say you don’t know what happened, I believe you. I just have no fucking way of knowing. How can I do anything...”

“Tsuuya. It’s fine. I just fell. That’s all.” How could Dazai tell Chuuya of the way his limbs abandoned him, the way he drifted in and out of consciousness, thinking—hoping—each time he closed his eyes it would be the last?

“I should have been there. This didn’t need to happen—if I had been fucking there.” Chuuya sighed, watching Dazai with regretful eyes.

“What? Tsuuya, I don’t like that look.”

“I’m going to stop working.”

“What?” Dazai lurched upward, but the pain quickly pushed him back down. “Tsuuya, don’t make any rash decisions.” He laughed, hoping that the idea would quickly be dismissed as a joke.

“It’s not a fucking rash decision. I’ve been thinking about it a lot. We have enough money to last us indefinitely.”

“I’m not worried about the money. What about you, Tsuuya? Can you do it?”

“I can fucking do it. Who do you think I am?”

“But, do you want to do it?”

Chuuya averted his gaze. “I… I can’t stand this. I can’t stand being so fucking powerless. I want to help you.” He grabbed Dazai’s hand and made eye contact again. His blue eyes were pools of sorrow and desperation—this time, Dazai was the one to look away. “Please. Let me help you.”

“The last thing I want is to be a burden. As soon as I become a burden to you, Tsuuya, please...” please let me die. Dazai couldn’t ask Chuuya to kill him, and so the words remained unspoken.

“That won’t fucking happen, asshole.” Beneath Chuuya’s tough facade, his sympathetic eyes trembled, threatening to burst. It was unbearable to see Chuuya struggle with a problem that should have been Dazai’s alone. How Dazai wished for Chuuya to give up on him—but Chuuya would never do that. Even as Dazai deteriorated physically, and stress ate away at Chuuya, Chuuya would probably be by Dazai’s side. How Dazai longed for Chuuya to stay with him—but he could never ask for that.

Dazai swiftly changed the topic of discussion. “Oh yeah, Tsuuya, did you remember to pray for me earlier?”

“Yeah, I said ‘I hope this year Dazai can stop overthinking things in the distant future.’”

How did Chuuya read his mind? Dazai grinned sheepishly. “What about the pretty lady?”

“You’re going to have to find her yourself.”

“Well, until then, I have Tsuuya!” For better or for worse, Dazai would always have Chuuya.

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#Bungou Stray Dogs #Soukoku #Human Qualification #Dazai Osamu #Nakahara Chuuya

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howlingbarnes · 7 years

Text

Forelsket - Part 5

Characters - Steve x Reader, Bucky x Reader, Natasha Romanoff, Peggy Carter

Word Count - 1935

Warnings - Angst, A LOT of Language, Fluff?

Forelsket - (Norwegian) That overwhelming euphoric feeling you experience when you’re falling in love with someone

A/N - @bovaria sent me a video of herself screaming sooo, enjoy!!

Forelsket Masterlist

“What did you just say?” Bucky asked, already knowing the answer, but wanting to hear the words again.

Steve couldn't bring himself to lift his head and meet the angry eyes of a broken man. Keeping his hands in his pockets, Steve shook his head lightly, refusing to repeat his prior confession. He certainly wasn't afraid of Bucky by any means, he just didn't want to add insult to injury.

The whole night had turned into a clusterfuck of tears and screams. Natasha begged and pleaded with you to calm down, while Bucky did the exact opposite. Your vision was blurred, your mind was racing and incoherent babbling just kept leaving your lips. Bile threatened its way up your throat, the alcohol not mixing well with the stress you were putting your body under. A cold shiver shot up your spine and you found the world tilting and spinning while Bucky screamed at Steve.

“What the fuck did you say, Rogers?!” Annoyed with the fact that he was getting no response, Bucky shoved Steve, only sending him back a couple steps.

It took everything in Steve to hold back and not react. He knew things were going to go south the second he opened his mouth, he knew he deserved the outburst, and he knew Bucky was just expressing his pain. And yet, as Bucky went on calling Steve names and talking about betrayal - punctuating each statement with a hefty push - something within Steve completely snapped.

“Back the fuck off, Buck!” Steve’s palms crashed into Bucky's chest with enough force to make him stumble backward, nearly losing his balance. There was a newly kindled fire burning inside of him as he stared down his best friend. “It just happened, okay? We don't choose who our soulmates are! You think you'll know how to handle this shit when you find them, but it's really not that simple!” Steve shouted, throwing his arms out in irritation. “It's like nothing else matters. It's fuckin’ primal, man! I'm sorry that you're part of this, I really am but she's my soulmate.” Steve pointed to his chest, feeling all of the emotion that came along with the title you carried in his life, throbbing in his very core.

“Nothing else matters, huh?.” Bucky chuckled sarcastically, moving close to Steve until they were barely inches apart.

“Nat,” You slurred out your friend's name, struggling to stay on your feet.

“Are you about to be sick?” Natasha asked, pushing your hair out of your face. She was so wrapped up in caring for you that she had been ignoring the testosterone raging behind her.

You shook your head and pointed a finger over her shoulder. One thing about alcohol that never seemed to fail with you was that it gave you one of three moods; incredibly happy, horny as hell, or purely anguished. This held true as fresh tears lined your eyes once again.

“They're fighting,” You choked out the words, wanting so desperately to make them stop, but unable to will your body to move.

“Holy shit,” Natasha let you go and rushed to the boys, forcing herself between the two. Both of them huffing heavily, fists baffled up, with bloodied faces. “Are you two fucking kidding me?” After a quick glance over her shoulder, finding you curled up against the wall, she turned toward Bucky. “Listen, I get that this whole thing is all very disheartening, but I'm asking you nicely to please get out of here before this shit gets so much worse.”

Bucky took a moment, considering Natasha’s words. His face was swollen, but the adrenaline rushing through his veins refused to let him feel any of the pain. With a heaving chest, his eyes lingered from Nat to an ashamed Steve before glancing at the small crowd that was forming around them. Bucky squinted his eyes and took a heavy breath before storming off.

Days later, Bucky stirred from his sleep. Sunlight poured through the curtains in his bedroom as if it were there to tell him that everything was okay, that it was going to be a beautiful day, and there was nothing he needed to stress about. But it wasn't. The sun wasn't there to make Bucky feel special. It was there because the world keeps turning and that's life. It was always there, regardless of how shit things were, the sun was always there in the morning to put its middle finger right in his face.

“I see you still don't care about my problems,” Bucky grumbled at the beaming rays of light, his raspy voice bouncing off his bedroom walls as he rolled onto his stomach.

With his face buried into his fluffy pillows, he found his cell phone. A deep whine vibrated his throat when the screen read back the massive amounts of missed calls and unread texts he had from not only you and Steve but all of his other friends as well. No one had heard from him since the night at the club, and Bucky aimed to keep it that way.

Throwing his phone back into the mess of his comforter, Bucky squeezed his eyes closed and tried his best to let sleep take him again. It took a few flips, twists, and turns for Bucky to sigh in defeat. Between the happy sun shining, the sound of birds chirping outside his window, and the thoughts crawling over the surface of his brain, it became clear to Bucky that he couldn’t force himself to spend another minute in bed. After pushing himself out of the safe confines of his blankets, Bucky got on his feet and gave his limbs a healthy stretch before running his finger through his tousled hair.

“Yikes,” Bucky grumbled half-heartedly at his own reflection. Though a few days had passed, there were still bruises and small cuts littering his face, hands, and arms.

Making sure to be gentle with his injuries, Bucky showered and brushed his teeth before dressing and leaving his apartment. He wasn’t even sure of where he was going, all he knew was that it was early, and he needed to clear his mind. Putting distance between himself and the campus was Bucky’s initial objective, but after a couple of blocks, a quaint looking coffee shop became the new goal.

“Morning!” The pretty brunette behind the counter greeted Bucky with a dazzling grin. “What can I get for you?”

“Hey, uh,” Bucky paused, distracted by her pleasant energy momentarily. “Sorry, can I just have a hot coffee, please?”

“You certainly may, anything else for you?” She waited for Bucky to shake his head before telling him his total and telling him to have a seat.

The barista brought Bucky’s his coffee, unbothered by how much their fingers brush in the process. She then put down a cinnamon roll that smelled like pure heaven and was still steaming with heat.

“I didn’t order this.” Bucky pointed at the pastry with furrowed brows. Shock taking over features when she pulled off her apron and claimed the seat across from him.

“It’s not for you, it’s for me.” She answered raising a brow, pulling the plate across the table to herself. Bucky watched as she pulled her treat apart and took a savory bite. “You’ve clearly got something on your mind. So, out with it. What’s your name?”

In any other situation, Bucky would feel out of place. Strangers weren’t his forte when he was going through a rough time but there was something about the charming girl sitting across from him that made him relax. He considered for a minute that it maybe it was her accent but he knew it had to be something else.

“James, but everyone calls me Bucky.” He answered, giving her a small smirk. “Yours?”

“Margaret, but everyone calls me Peggy.” She winked before popping another piece of the roll in her mouth, earning a bit of laughter from her new found company.

“How’d you get Peggy out of Margaret?”

“How did you get Bucky out of James?”

“Fair enough,” Bucky replied, throwing his hands up in defeat with a chuckle.

“You look like you’ve been through the ringer as of late, love,” Peggy observed, pointing a finger at Bucky’s face, making his smile fade quickly. “Would you like to talk about it?”

He wanted to, so badly. The biggest problem had been that everyone Bucky had to talk to had already known everyone involved. Judgment was clouded and it was far too messy. Thinking that he needed a fresh pair of eyes from the outside to give him perspective, Bucky started from the top and told Peggy everything. She didn’t interrupt and barely took her eyes off of him the whole time he spoke. Something about Bucky screamed to her that he needed someone to give him their undivided attention, and that’s precisely what she did. Once Bucky managed to get everything off his chest, the conversation flowed into a lighter nature. The two spent the rest of the morning laughing and telling stories.

“Don’t you need to get back to work? I’m not holding you up am I?” Bucky’s voice was laced with a concern that Peggy laughed off.

“I’m here open to close, James.” Peggy waved a hand at him. “I run this place, however, I should pull my weight a bit, hm?”

Bucky thanked Peggy for the company, offering her a bright smile. Peggy was sure to tell him that he was more than welcome to come again anytime, capitalizing the thought with a gentle touch to his bicep. With that, they bid each other a good day and went their separate ways.

The remainder of Bucky’s day was spent walking around the city. He had nowhere to be and, thanks to his new friend, he felt loads lighter. Peggy offered sound advice about the messy situation Bucky had shared with her, and for the first time in a while, he felt like he knew what he was going to do. Walking until the sun started to lower in the sky, Bucky finally made his way back toward his apartment. Returning to his stoop, Bucky pulled his keys from his pocket, which hit the ground before he had a chance to unlock the door.

There on his arm were four small fingerprints. Bringing his thumb to his tongue, Bucky tried to wipe the marks away as if he were confirming that they were really there. Still, they remained.

He found her. Bucky looked his soulmate in the eye, spend the whole morning listening to her sweet voice, and looking at her stunning smile without even knowing it. He always thought that meeting your soulmate would be some grand sign from the universe, that she’d basically have flashing lights over her head when he came in contact with her. But, what he got was an enjoyable conversation with a good-hearted beauty. There weren’t bells and whistles, just the person he was made for, being there for him when he really needed her.

“Peggy!” Bucky shouted, running down the block while Peggy locked the door of the coffee shop on her way out. Making sure to stop a few feet away, in fear of scaring her, Bucky bent forward and rested his hands on his knees to catch his breath.

“I know I said you could come back anytime but, James..” Peggy quipped with a nervous laugh, confused by his presence.

“No, I know but I needed to talk to you.” Bucky breathed, standing straight once again before showing her his arm. “You’re my soulmate.”

TAGS ARE CLOSED!!

(forever) @bovaria @bionic-buckyb @sebbytrash @marvel-ash @purgatoan @mrs-squirrel-chester @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @feelmyroarrrr @belledamsceno @my-blackbird-universe @hellomissmabel @huffleypuffelycas @obi-wan-my-only-ho @alexx-in-wonderland123 @thirstybitchqueen @palaiasaurus64 @sarahpanda65 @explodingzombiesyndrome @supermoonpanda @callamint @takemetoneverland91 @jurassicbarnes @mizzzpink @seargantbcky @marvel-fanfiction @hollycornish @toc1985

(steve rogers) @justareader @netflixa @winterboobaer @angelofwinchester17 @toasterofinjustice @silvervibraniumalloy @thelostpieceofpizza

(series) @lovely-anathema-blog @shut-it-tinman @girl-next-door-writes @magical-spit @clinicalkayla @crazysurvival @fearlesshunterofshadows @yumarithen @ladylachesis @ellen-reincarnated1967 @allinhishands @lady-thor-foster @bandbandeau @myhopeisinfinite @captain-amelia-bradley @quantumcheese

#steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #soulmate au #college au #forelsket #forelsket pt 5

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bettsplendens · 7 years

Text

Blue Zircon continues to be extremely confused, Gravescratch attempts to remedy this. Also, nature happens rather loudly. Part 2 of https://bettsplendens.tumblr.com/post/161343231179/an-experimental-weapon-noodle-obtains-a-very.

3281 words, warning for a “I am property” mindset.

Zircon woke slowly, confused, but couldn’t bring herself to be frightened of whatever this was. She had been… unconscious? Which should be concerning, but she was fine. Just… waking up. No pain, none of that lingering unpleasantness that came with re-forming, body still where she’d put it.

Uncurling a bit, Zircon rubbed her eyes in an effort to reboot her brain, then shook her head and looked up at-

Oh, right, this thing with way too many eyes. Which… hadn’t eaten her yet, apparently didn’t intend to, and was currently reading a… thing. A small object, made of extremely thin pieces of something moderately flexible, that had what looked like some sort of writing on each piece.

“That looks inefficient.” Was her first thought, and not one she quite managed to contain. It did look inefficient!

“Yes, well, I do not keep data storage devices over my face. Besides- the locals here are only just beginning to migrate all reading data to digital form, it is a rather recent invention. This is what they use instead, it is called a ‘book’. Perfectly serviceable, albeit inefficient compared to the tech you are used to.”

Having calmly explained himself, Gravescratch set the book aside and looked down at his lap full of public defender, taking in the utterly confused expression. “And you were just asleep. Sleep is a state of mind and body, mandatory for the physical and mental health of many organic creatures, which Gems also benefit from despite not being organic. It is not necessary, but it is helpful for mental health, particularly among those under high stress. Homeworld discourages it and hides the knowledge due to it being seen as unproductive. It is something like meditation- the mind relaxes, all conscious thought ceasing, and the body largely relaxes. Consider it a reboot. You were terribly confused and upset, but now- better, yes?”

Zircon elected not to answer. Mostly because she did not want to admit that, yes, she was feeling better now. Or… comment on her emotions and what had just happened.

Except, actually-

What exactly, had-

Zircon had several questions, but they were all derailed by something… chiming? Chirping?

The chirping turned out to be coming from a small, blue, fluttering creature, something that was perched on the back of her former hiding place. It would have fit in her palm, its coloration was startlingly close to hers, and it kept making rather pleasant sounds as it bounced around on two tiny limbs.

New question.

“…what is that?”

“Ah, there it is. That, little one, is a ‘bluebird’. Birds are small, avian, organic creatures found across this planet. There are several thousand different species, ranging from the size of your finger to about the size of your torso, in many different colors. That is a small local species. It is supposed to be outside, but it found its way inside earlier and I did not wish to pursue it for fear of harming it. They are very fragile. I would like to put it outside, as that is where it belongs, so, if you will pardon me…”

Gravescratch gently tipped Zircon out of his lap and stood up, circling around the wall of the room until he was near a section of a soft wall hanging. Pulling it aside, he revealed a transparent section of the wall, which he opened- letting in a good deal of humidity, a gust of moving wind, and more sounds similar to the first creature’s sound. “Yes, yes, here you are- you can leave now, bird.” Gravescratch declared, turning to look at the bird- and blinked all seven eyes in mild surprise as another bluebird flew in.

Both Gems stared at the new invader for a moment, then Gravescratch shook his head, sighed, and turned back towards the window. “That was exactly the opposite effect I had intended this to have, so- little one, please stay in here, I am going to encourage them to leave.”

Zircon wasn’t watching the “birds” any more. Her attention was now on the opening in the wall through which her kidnapper had just left. Slowly standing up, she carefully approached the opening, staying to the side so the strange thing might not see her looking out.

That was… a lot of green. A lot of bright, bright green. The sky was a bizarre soft blue with moving patches of white, and the ground was a fuzzy green that her eyes couldn’t properly focus on. This was far too large to be another room, so- apparently that was what the planet looked like. Now- which one was this? Had she seen any images of a planet like this?

She had not.

That was a bad sign. So was the lack of anything even resembling Homeworld tech. Or anything coherent, everything was fuzziness and rounded edges and-

Apparently the ground came apart. Her captor was scraping away the green, revealing a layer of dark brown, and he did it with no visible effort.

Gravescratch cleared away a patch of the green, then sat back and stared up at the sky, waiting until-

After a short time, another few bluebirds came fluttering down, landing on the exposed patch of brown. Making sounds very loud compared to their tiny frames, they bounced around in the brown and plucked at it as if searching for something, completely ignoring the lanky thing standing near them.

A few moments later, the birds inside seemingly heard the sounds, chirped in response, and flew outside, joining the others in the exposed patch.

Gravescratch gave a satisfied hum, but didn’t come back inside, just sat down and watched the birds- especially as more, of differing colors and sizes, appeared.

Her captor was distracted. Distracted, and facing away from her. With an opening to the outside still available.

But her captor looked very fast, wasn’t far away, and was familiar with the local area. She was not made to be fast, and she didn’t even know what planet she was on.

Running was a bad idea. It was a very bad idea.

So… was staying here a better idea?

She didn’t trust the strange thing that had captured her, and she still had no doubt that it was going to hurt her. It seemed calm now, though, whereas running would risk making it angry with her.

But… if it was angry, it might just get whatever it was planning over with. Which, given that she had no hope of rescue, would probably be better than it toying with her for however long it intended.

And this might actually work.

Staying here, she had no hope of escape.

Trying to run would give her the tiniest scrap of hope.

Which was something that she needed.

So, shakily, Zircon crept over to the opening in the wall. One last check to be sure the creature wasn’t watching, then she clambered outside, dropping to the ground.

She didn’t stop to look around. Partly because she couldn’t, her eyes couldn’t focus properly on all the incoherent shapes around her. She just set off in one direction, as quietly as possible, heading towards what looked like cover. A series of objects much larger than her, blobs of nonsensical green patterns supported by relatively straight grey-brown columns. Hopefully she could hide among some of those. She just had to get there.

Zircon tried to be quiet, at least until she was away from the building, but the ground kept making sounds. Unpleasant squishing noises from everything she stepped on, urgh. Worse than that, she ended up yelping as a small, bullet-shaped creature leapt out of the ground and hit her in the face, and there was no way her captor hadn’t heard-!

Time to run. Zircon abandoned all attempts at secrecy and just bolted, panic fueling her as she ran for cover. Maybe if she just got a head start, got ahead of it far enough, she could escape-!

Unbelievably, it seemed to be working. When she finally risked a glance over her shoulder from between the columns, nothing was following her. It wasn’t there. Maybe it- could she have escaped its notice?

Maybe it hadn’t been watching because it hadn’t expected her to run.

Well, she’d showed it!

Zircon had time for a moment of satisfaction before a crashing sound registered. Slow, powerful, and repetitive- coming from somewhere in front of her.

Was that good? It might provide an opportunity to escape a potential tracker’s hearing, but it might also present another threat. Except that it almost sounded like… water.

She was a Gem of Blue Diamond’s court. Water was a good thing for her.

And she was too tired to run.

So she kept walking in a straight line, slowly, cautiously, as the blue of the sky started to show up again and the crashing grew louder, and she kept walking until she ran out of ground to walk on.

The ground fell away. Not even in a sensible fashion, with hovercraft docks or any sort of transport, it just stopped being ground and turned into open air. “Of course. Because nothing here makes any sense.” Zircon muttered, staring out at the sky in front of her that seemed to somehow stretch below the horizon, and-

Wait. There was a line. But the ground was almost the same color as the sky out near the horizon, except that it was moving, white lines rippling across it towards her.

Oh, her eyes were not made for this. She was made to operate in well-constructed buildings that made sense, to process data at high speeds, not to stare out at messily shaped things that someone had put far away.

But, squinting, she managed to make out what was in front of her.

Water.

More water than she’d seen in her entire life, stretching from horizon to horizon around the outcropping she was standing on. There were waves rippling across the surface of the water towards her, crashing against the base of the outcropping far below her. As she watched, a massive grey creature broke the surface of the water, sent a white spout from its back, and sank again, and more birds –these larger and grey- drifted across her view.

“What in Blue Diamond’s name…”

“Oh, she had nothing to do with this.”

Zircon gave a very undignified yelp and jolted in place, very nearly jumping right off of the outcropping. Whirling around with her arms up as a futile shield, she backed up until she was right at the edge, trying to escape the punishment she was certain was coming for her escape attempt-

But nothing happened. Her captor twitched towards her, as if about to grab, but didn’t touch her. Just- waited. Staring. And did nothing.

It unnerveed her enough that she ended up blurting out “well?!” up at the thing, then immediately regretted it and covers her gem with both arms, which unfortunately left her with no good way to hide her face.

“I am not going to grab you.” Gravescratch rumbled, taking one long step back, and sat down- out of reach of her. “Unless I feel that you are in danger otherwise, I am going to respect your bodily autonomy as much as I can. And I am not going to harm you for running, understand? You are not in trouble. I do not blame you for running, either, although I do need you to return. And, preferably step away from the cliff before you fall off.”

Bodily autonomy?

She knew what those words meant, separately, but- together, and in this context?

And why didn’t her captor intend to punish her for this? She ran, which is precisely what she was told not to do- it would make sense for her to be punished, why wouldn’t- not that she’s complaining, of course, but-

The only logical part of that was the suggestion that she should move away from the cliff. She did so, forcing herself to walk closer to the thing that so effortlessly found her, and tried to draw herself up as she spoke to it.

“You make no sense. Explain yourself at- at once! You have kidnapped me, why- why wouldn’t you- and- ‘bodily autonomy’, what do-“

She didn’t want to get closer, but she did, moving slowly towards the thing as if drawn by a magnet. “And what did- did you do to me? How are you making me feel like- nnh-“

“I did not do anything to you. As I said before, little one- you are a member of a social species, in a society that forbids affection. You are terribly touch-starved. That contact earlier helped, and now, whether or not you intend to, you are searching for more. Easy… I am not going to hurt you.” Gravescratch rumbled, leaning in slightly, and pressed his muzzle to her forehead when she was close enough. “I am sorry- I do not mean to upset you, but, as I am not causing this, I have no way to stop it.”

Eyes shutting, Zircon took the final step closer, hands curling into fists as she tried to fight the urge to get closer. She did not succeed. The best she could manage was not hugging the thing that had brought her to this planet against her will, the thing that could shatter and eat her if it so chose, the thing that-

That was explaining again. She should listen. Explanations were good.

“You are not in trouble because your reaction is understandable. You are frightened of me, and for good reason. I would have been shocked if you did not make some escape attempt. Now… bodily autonomy. A concept that is going to seem very strange to you, because it goes against everything that the Diamonds encourage. It is, to put it simply, the idea that you have the right to decide what happens to your body. You have the right to decide who is allowed to touch you, what they are allowed to do, and when they stop. You have the right to decide what you are comfortable doing and what you are not, and no one, even the Diamonds, can change that.”

Gravescratch lowered his head just enough to meet Zircon’s eyes, or, at least, enough to meet her eyes if she would open them. “No one has the right to manipulate or control you in any way, save only what is necessary to prevent serious harm to you or someone else. Why I refrained from grabbing you away from the cliff just now, for example- you were not in serious enough danger to warrant me capturing you in such an alarming fashion. I am trying to respect your autonomy as much as I can. Which is why I am not holding you- I am concerned that it would distress you further.”

Explanations were still good. Except when they only made things more confusing.

The Diamonds were entitled to whatever they wanted of her. Anything and everything- theirs.

Or… maybe not so much the Diamonds any more.

She’d been taken, removed to another planet, and there was no one en route to rescue her. Which meant, legally, she belonged to… this.

So, instead of faceplanting into its front, she probably ought to show the proper respect.

Drawing herself up as much as possible, Zircon took a step back and squared her shoulders, looking up at the being who towered over her. “Ma’am. With all due respect- in accordance with Right of Conquest laws, you literally own me. What you are saying makes absolutely no sense. You have every right to do- literally whatever you want. I- there are- there are some things I would not recommend, and things I would not prefer, but- I have no rights here.”

“That again.” Gravescratch rumbled, eyes narrowing, and leaned down to properly meet her gaze. “Listen to me. I do not have any right to control you. I did not earn the right to manipulate you by having the skills to capture you, and the Diamonds did not earn the right to manipulate anyone simply by being born as a certain variety of Gem. No matter what they claim, that does not give them any right to anything they are doing. But that is unimportant for now. What I need you to understand is that you have rights. You have the right to tell me to stop anything that you do not like. And I am not inclined to take orders, but you may make requests. Go on- try it out.”

…what?

Zircon didn’t manage to restrain her expression of bewilderment, mostly because all of her brainpower was going into trying to puzzle this out. First of all- the Diamonds had every right to do whatever they wanted, with everything that they owned, and they owned an extremely large number of things. Second, her captor –owner- had every right to- again, anything. This made no sense, but-

There was an order near the end of that confusing paragraph. Probably another part of this twisted game, but… an order. “Try it out”, referring to, presumably, her hypothetical ability to make requests of her owner.

So… she tried it out.

Stared up at whatever this was, tried to stay steady, and spoke as clearly as she could. Which… wasn’t very, given her request. “Hold me. Ma’am. I- I still think something happened to cause this, but- I want- hold me.”

“There we are. Good. Assert yourself- I promise I will not be angry with you.” Gravescratch rumbled, all seven eyes shutting momentarily in a gesture of approval, and wrapped his arms gently around Zircon’s frame. Pulling her just a bit closer, he rumbled gently and hugged her with all four arms, giving quiet approving sounds every time she moved to increase the area of contact.

Zircon slumped limp in her owner’s hold, shutting her eyes for just a few seconds so that she could properly bask in the sensation of touch, and… stayed like that for far longer than she meant to. Oh. Intimidating or not, this thing was warm, and it was supporting her oh-so-well, and she wanted-

She wanted to curl in close and get comfortable and never move away, wanted to stay like this and hold this creature and never let go, and it scared her that she wanted anything so strongly-

She wanted more, but she wanted to stop, and the twisting desires escaped as a soft whimper before she started to claw at her owner’s front- trying to get away, trying to hide somewhere so she could figure this out on her own without being touched in a way that made her mind want to short out. “Stop, stop-“

To her shock, the creature did. It let go, it stepped back slightly, and it crouched, making no effort to get closer to her again.

“Yes, like that- good!” Gravescratch crooned, looking genuinely pleased, and took a step away. “Come on- away from the cliff, please. And, preferably, back to the building- come inside and sit, enjoy the electric blanket, sit somewhere away from all the nature so you can think.”

Her owner obeyed when she tried to make a situation stop. Now that… that had to be part of a game, some kind of trick, some kind of trap, but-

But the ground kept making noises, and little things flung themselves out of it at her, and she wanted to be somewhere that did not have anywhere near this many living creatures. So… she’d obey. She’d go back inside.

And she was going to use every step of the way back to try and puzzle this out.

#Blue Zircon #Zircon #Gravescratch #Zircon fic #My fic #My work

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ponyregrets · 7 years

Note

ur asking for smut prompts so: have u written a sex pollen one yet hearts thank friend u rock

oops I meant to get more of these done but I was v distracted and now it’s bed time so I’ll put this up on AO3 tomorrow and ideally do some more of these

standard sex pollen fic disclaimer: Bellamy is under the influence of a logistically and evolutionarily incoherent plant and needs to have sex with someone and everyone is having trouble communicating about what they want and why they want it. Spoilers they are in love but don’t have sex with people who are under the influence of mind-altering substances irl

"From an evolutionary standpoint, this makes no sense," Clarke mutters.

Bellamy is on his back on his bed with one arm over his face, breathing in and out, trying to focus on anything but his dick. He assumes Clarke is also trying not to focus on his dick, which is why she's talking about the logic behind it. The less everyone is thinking about his dick, the better.

"Why does a plant care if you're getting laid?" she goes on.

"I don't think it cares about me personally."

"You know what I mean. What's the plant getting out of this?"

"The satisfaction of a job well done." He huffs. He's so fucking hard. "Did you have a plan or are you just here to commiserate? I was just going to quarantine myself until it wore off."

There's a pause, and he thinks about opening his eyes, but then he'd see Clarke. And just the thought of Clarke is overwhelming right now, let alone the sight of her.

As stupid decisions in his life go, this one shouldn't have been a big deal. He was out gathering herbs, and he's not great with herbs, but Clarke draws him what he's looking for, and he generally finds it in the end. And he found it this time too, he just stumbled through another plant first, and got covered in some weird--plant shit. Pollen of some kind. And he started feeling hot and gross and assumed he was allergic to it, so he went back to camp, took a shower, and when he still wasn't feeling better, went to consult Clarke, because she'd be pissed if he didn't mention it.

It was sheer luck that Luna was around, and that when he described the plant, she recognized it.

It was the opposite of luck that she said it would cause intense, painful arousal, and if he didn't get laid in a few hours, he'd maybe die. He's not totally clear on the logistics of that, but apparently uncontrollable lust is supposed to get involved at some point, and Luna seemed to think he needed to fuck someone, not just jerk off, which--Clarke might have had a point about evolutionary necessity here. Why the fuck does a radioactive plant care if he ejaculates in someone? That doesn't seem like any of his business.

"Clarke?" he prompts. Part of him wonders if she left, but--he thinks he'd know if she did. Even with his eyes closed, he feels like he knows exactly where he is. He can still smell her, which feels fucking creepy, but he's blaming the plant. It's absolutely the plant's fault. Nothing to do with Clarke.

"It's not going to wear off," she says, on a huff. "That's not how it works. You need to get laid."

"Yeah, I heard. How's the plant going to know if I get laid? Is it keeping tabs on me?"

"I asked Luna, she said it was--I don't know. Something about the interaction with brain chemistry. But you pretty clearly need something."

He cracks one eye open to look at her, and it's such a fucking bad idea. She's exactly where he thought she was, leaning against the desk in his room, looking warm and soft and beautiful.

And also stressed and worried, but that's to be expected. And his brain cares a lot less about that than it cares about how her breasts look in that top.

Fuck. She needs to get the fuck out of here.

"I've got it," he says, which is a lie.

"You'd rather die than get laid?"

"I'm not going to die. I feel fine."

She crosses her arms in a very distracting way. "Bellamy. Luna told me how this was going to go. She's the expert. And it's obviously--you're a mess."

"Thanks."

"Will you just have sex with me already?"

He shoots up, sitting on his bed and staring at her, which is a terrible idea, because he shouldn't look at her. All he wants to do is bend her over the desk and--

"What?" he asks.

"What?"

He swallows hard. "Why would I have sex with you?"

She rolls her eyes. "So you don't die."

It's the obvious answer, but it makes his stomach sink. "No."

"No?"

"I'm not going to ask you to--I can take care of it."

"You can't. How many times do I have to tell you--"

"I can find someone. I don't need you managing my sex life, Clarke."

He can see her throat bob when she swallows, and he has to close his eyes again. He can still see her behind his eyelids, can just imagine how her throat would look when he kissed her, the long line of it as he--

"Seriously?"

"What?"

"Look, I know I'm not your first choice, for this, but I'm the best choice. If you'd actually been finding someone while I was talking to Luna, you wouldn't have to, but you didn't, so you're stuck with me."

He opens his eyes again. The look in her eyes is just what he expected, all stubborn annoyance, the familiar exasperation that she thinks she's right and someone isn't listening to her. But--there's something else too, he thinks.

Or maybe he's just really, really fucking hoping.

And then she tugs her shirt off, and there's all this skin. Her breasts are spilling out of her bra, and there's still this strange nervousness in her eyes, and it's just--fuck, it's so fucked up.

Her hands go behind her back, going for the clasp of the bra, and he manages, "Clarke."

"You're supposed to be overcome with lust," she says, and rubs her face. "Fuck. Don't tell me you're that unattracted to me. Just lie back and think of--"

He crosses the room in three steps and kisses her. Which is one of those things he's pretty sure you don't have to do, when you're under the influence of weird plant shit. He doesn't want to kiss her any more than usual. He just wants to fuck her more than usual, and he really needs her to know how much he always wants all this stuff, right now.

Her mouth falls open on a gasp, which he takes advantage of, and he lifts her up onto the desk, sliding between her open legs. She wraps them around his waist, and the first press of his dick makes them both moan. The kiss breaks and they're suddenly staring at each other, wide-eyed. Her pupils are huge and dark, and when he wets his lips, she tracks the movement.

"That really wasn't the issue," he says, voice coming up rough, and he kisses her again, hard and frantic, and her fingers tangle in his hair. "You don't have to do this if you don't want to," he adds. "I can find someone else. But just if you don't want to. You're absolutely my first fucking choice."

Her laugh is a little shaky, and when she swallows again, he lets his mouth go down to her throat. He's going to lose his ability to think in about ten seconds; he's already distracted imagining being inside her, how she's going to feel. "I want to," she says, arching up against him, deliberate. "Can we finish this conversation when I'm sure you're not going to die of not getting laid?"

"Yeah," he manages, and drops his mouth down to her shoulder, tasting the sweat there. His entire brain is full of her, every nerve awake and alight with the knowledge of Clarke. Clarke in his arms, Clarke moaning at the slight scrape of his teeth, Clarke saying his name over and over, breathless and needy and--

"Bellamy."

He looks up, frowning a little. He'd gotten down to her breast, and he was just about to push her bra aside so he could really explore.

Her laugh is shaky. "Not that I'm not--this is great, but you need to fuck me. I'm never going to forgive you if you're too busy with foreplay and die. You can touch me as much as you want after."

While she's talking, he starts kissing her neck again, can't bear to stop, but he is actually paying attention to the conversation, mostly because it's about him getting to fuck her, and, god, he wants that. "Where do you want me?" he asks, biting down on her shoulder. "In the bed, or just--fuck, right here?"

"Right here," she says. Her fingers are fumbling with the fly of his pants. "As soon as possible, seriously."

"Don't worry," he assures her, helping her, shoving down pants and boxers all at once in his desperation to be naked and closer. "I'm not going to die without fucking you."

Her eyes slide down to his dick like she can't quite help it, and then her fingers are wrapping around him, testing and gentle and still enough to make him moan.

"This doesn't work if you're still wearing clothes," he murmurs, and he can hear her swallow.

"Yeah." She pushes his chest gently, just enough that she can slide off the desk, and then she's getting her own pants off, and her bra, and she's naked, and gorgeous, and just--Clarke.

"I can touch you as much as I want after?" he asks, eyes roving over her body.

Her neck colors a little. "Yeah."

"Cool. Then bed," he says, tugging off his own shirt just to be fair and tugging her back.

"Bellamy--"

"I know, I know. Now." He pushes her back onto the bed, lets himself kiss her again as he tests her with his fingers. She is wet, and she whimpers when he rubs her clit, and he really can't wait either, not when she's so warm and responsive under him, and he still can't believe he'll actually die if he doesn't do this, but it kind of feels that way.

"Fuck, I love you," he murmurs, and slides inside her.

For a second, it's like his entire brain goes white, and then the desperation of whatever happened really sets in. He's never needed to come so much in his life, and that includes the horrific teenage years where he felt like he was constantly erect and desperate. He needs this like he's never needed anything else, and he barely has the presence of mind to ask, "Good?" and hear her affirmative response before he's thrusting, hard and hot and desperate. Clarke gasps and arches against him, her mouth dropping open, and he manages to get his hand under her ass, changing his angle slightly until she's begging too.

He's pretty sure she doesn't come before he does, which hasn't been a problem for him for a long time, but he figures there are some extenuating circumstances. And she did want him to come as soon as possible.

The orgasm drains pretty much all the energy out of him, and he slumps half on top of her, feeling guilty with the small part of his brain that can still process emotions. He presses his lips against her shoulder, nuzzling in close.

"I owe you one," he murmurs. He's already half asleep, so he just wraps around her, holds her close. "As soon as I wake up, okay?"

Her laugh is soft, and her fingers tangle in his hair. "Don't worry about it."

When he wakes up, it's dark, and he has a slight headache, like he gets when he hasn't had enough water. The memories of the day are a little fuzzy, and he has no idea what woke him until he sees Clarke sitting on the edge of the bed, tugging on her shirt.

"Hey," he says, and she freezes.

"Sorry," she says. "I was trying not to wake you up."

"What time is it?"

"I don't know. Late? I should--I should get back." There's a pause, and she can see her squaring her shoulders. "Listen, I'm sorry if I--if I overstepped. I don't know what was going on for you, but Luna said it was kind of a lot, and it's hard to think straight, and I hope I didn't--"

His memories aren't so hazy that he doesn't remember the basics of what he said, or what he did, so he pushes himself up, drags himself over to sit next to her.

"I didn't say anything I didn't mean, Clarke."

She worries her lip. "You said you loved me."

"Yeah," he agrees. "And that I'd take care of you as soon as we woke up, so--" He clears his throat. "Your call. You don't have to leave." After what feels like a thousand years, she turns to look at him, and he gives her a crooked smile. "Seriously, I can do a lot better. Don't judge me on that. I was basically roofied."

It's the wrong thing to say. "Trust me, I know."

He wets his lips, slides closer. He's still naked, and she's still mostly naked, and he's pretty sure all he has to do is not fuck up the phrasing on this and she'll come back to bed.

"I love you," he settles on. "That wasn't--I probably wouldn't have said it, yeah. But I wanted to. I've been wanting to." He tucks a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. "Come back to bed," he murmurs. "Please."

Instead, she surges forward and kisses him again, and he tugs her into his lap, sliding his hands up her back, kissing back with all the warmth and affection and love he can, until she's melting into him. He threads his hands in her hair, nips her bottom lip, wants to learn every sound she'll ever make.

"I love you too," she says, dropping her forehead onto his shoulder. "So--"

He lies back, pulling her on top of him, grinning. "So, you saved my life, and you didn't even get off."

"I had fun," she says, but there's a smile creeping onto her face.

"But I owe you, right?"

He slides his hand down between her legs, feels a soft thrill when he realizes she's still wet, or already wet again, and when she buries her her face against his neck, he grins.

"Yeah," he confirms, fingers working her clit as she makes soft, desperate sounds. "I really fucking owe you."

But he's good for it.

#Anonymous

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