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awanderingdeal · 3 years

Text

An unfair race

I finally finished this! This fic is kind of a follow on to Endless Nights. Note: That fic is rated M and contains some sexual content, but you do not need to read it for this to make sense. I wanted to combine Finn talking with Heather, and an aspect of the discussion after that fic, where we talked about athletes in particular using exercise as a coping mechanism, and how this can sometimes turn unhealthy.

Some content warnings for this one: over exercise (if you'd like to skip the explicit description of this, skip to after the first stars, although there are a couple of mentions throughout), food mentions, self-depreciation and mentions of coming out/being outed.

Rating: T

If you feel I missed any content warnings or need to change the rating, please drop me a message!

The characters in this fic are from the sweater weather universe and belong to @lumosinlove

Finn’s entire body ached as his feet pounded against the path once more. His form was sloppy now, shoulders too hunched over and his strides falling without any real control. He forced himself onwards, breaths coming in fast pants, the straining muscles of his quads screaming desperately for more oxygen. And yet, his brain still whirred, obnoxiously loud thoughts pushing their way back to the forefront each time Finn managed to grasp a few blissful quiet seconds. He’d lost count of the number of times he’d passed the statue of the girl and her ducks, the smile on her face that he normally found so comforting becoming more and more irritating with each meeting. As he came to the gates of the park, Finn contemplated going home, but even just the reduced speed had brought the taunting thoughts back with a vengeance. One more go.

***

"H, has her jacket on. Has everybody got their game faces ready, boys?" It had been at least 30 minutes since James had made the joke as they all tumbled from the locker room, yet the sound of bright laughter still rang in Finn's ears.

He watched as Heather tugged her suit jacket more tightly around her, their eyes meeting for the third time in short succession. Fuck. Finn pushed his tongue against his mouthguard, sinking his teeth into the hard plastic. Later, self-inflicted as the need would be, he would complain about the new one he’d have moulded, each guard always feeling slightly different. For now, the rhythmic clench of his jaw was soothing.

Finn forced a breath through his nose, trying not to react too visibly as Heather dipped her head once more to add another scribbled note to the small, black book she carried everywhere. He forced himself to look away, knowing his constant glances were giving away his unease. Whilst Heather didn’t come to every training session, not even most, it wasn’t that uncommon to see her hovering around the edges of the ice, and ordinarily, only the very newest of the team paid any attention to her beyond an initial greeting.

“Earth to O’Hara!”

Finn held up his hand in apology, shaking himself back to the training session. Kasey’s eyes bored into him. It wasn't his usual intense stare, but something more concerned and Finn waited for the inevitable question. After a long few seconds, Kasey's eyes dropped to the puck, passing it back to Finn to take another shot.

The numbers on the clock inched forwards, slow and heavy like the sweet sticky molasses Leo was so fond of. Still, when Coach finally dismissed them for the day, Finn found himself wanting to take another lap. If he could get his thighs to burn enough then his head would race a little less, and it wouldn’t be too suspicious; Finn’s record of being last on the ice was surpassed only by Sirius. Before Finn could really consider it, Leo was next to him, knocking their shoulders together.

“Hey,” Leo cocked his head slightly, hair ruffled from the mask he’d recently pulled off and his pale skin glistening with sweat. He looked as beautiful as ever. Illogical as it was, it somehow made the dull ache in Finn's chest worse. "Everything good?"

"Yeah," Finn tried for a smile. "Busy brain today, that's all." There was no point brushing the question off completely; Leo was scarily observant. He and Logan often joked that he had eyes in the back of his head. Finn had no doubt he had caught the many pucks he had missed over the last hour.

"That sucks," Leo said, scepticism leaking into his voice. "Is there anything I can do to help?" Finn followed his glance behind them to where Logan was tussling with Jackson, loud rumblings of French intertwined with their laughter. "Or Lo, perhaps?"

"I like it when he looks like that,” Finn sighed.

"Mmm, me too” Leo hummed, his features softening. “Don’t think I didn’t notice that change of subject though, Sir. You don’t have to talk to me about it, but please don’t bottle it all."

Finn slumped into his stall, smiling as Leo lifted his hand to press a kiss to the knuckles. “I’m dealing with it.”

“Baby,” Leo started, his next word morphing into a stunted exhalation of air. His eyes closed briefly, his shoulders squaring before he relaxed them. He opened his mouth again, the sentence uttered clearly not what he’d originally planned on saying. "I'm going to take my padding off and head to see Lars. I think Loops is sticking around so I can get a ride with him if you two want to go home?"

Finn thought back to the quiet look of concern on Logan's face after he'd got home from his run the previous evening, and to the creased lines of worry at the corners of Leo's eyes earlier. "I think I might go and see Heather," he shrugged.

"Thank God," Logan appeared, wrapping his arms around Finn's waist. "Your runs were getting ridiculous."

"You didn't say anything?" Finn turned in Logan's arms, to rest his chin on top of his head.

"We were going to give you one more day. Leo wanted to speak to you this evening, only I had faith.”

"Oh, fuck off," Leo laughed. "You were just avoiding the conversation."

“I’m offended that you would even suggest that,” Logan burrowed into Finn’s chest. The sweat soaked gear they wore didn’t smell great, but neither of them seemed to care.

Moody huffed as he veered around them, his arms filled with tape. “No canoodling in the locker room.”

***

“As lovely as this chat has been Finn, if you really did just come in to catch up then I’m going to have to ask you to leave. I’ve got a couple of sessions this afternoon, and a mound of paperwork to complete,” Heather shifted in the forest green bucket chair. They were new since Finn had last been in here, replacing an ugly leather thing that Heather had always complained was too stereotypical. She’d removed her jacket now that she was back in her heated office, the item hung on the back of the door where it rightfully belonged.

Finn, freshly showered and changed, sat cross legged in the chair opposite. He reached forward to grab more pretzel sticks from the bowl on the table between them, puckering his lips as his tongue protested another injection of salt. “You know there is something I could do with your opinion on.”

Despite the reaction being minute, Finn saw the tiny upwards quirk of Heather’s lips. “Go on,” she encouraged.

“It’s dumb,” Finn muttered, drumming his fingers against the arm of the chair.

“Thoughts don’t have moral value Finn, it’s what we do with that’s important.” Heather pulled a handful of tissues from a box on the table, holding them out. “Tap away, but please spare the upholstery.”

“Sorry,” Finn grimaced, cleaning his hands of the salty residue.

“No need to apologise, I’m just still a bit precious about the new furniture.” Heather smiled. “Why do you think your issue is dumb?”

“It’s -” Finn tugged at his sleeve. “I can just never be happy with what I’ve got can I? I spent 8 years saying that if Logan could just love me back then I’d never complain again. And now I’ve got Logan and Leo and I’m still not happy.”

“What’s making you unhappy?

Finn breathed in deeply, scrunching his eyes shut. He’d spent weeks stuffing the pain into the tiniest box he could in his brain, and now here Heather was asking him to just - talk about it?

“Finn, look at me?” Finn did as he was asked, lifting his head to find Heather’s kind eyes. “I’m going to reiterate something I’ve said before. You can say anything you want here. It doesn’t matter if it’s selfish or unkind or if you think it’s stupid. Unless I think you’re a danger to yourself or anybody else, then nobody is going to hear about it.”

Finn bit his lip, wiggling his toes beneath his legs. “I get jealous,” he rushed out. “I get jealous of Cap and Loops and Potts and Lily and all those other couples who just get to hug and kiss and tell the cameras how stupidly in love they are.” He paused, the panic of having told somebody matching the relief, but now the words had started tumbling out he couldn’t stop. “I get so angry about it. Sometimes, for the tiniest second, I hate them. All of them.” he whispered, barely able to admit it. “And then I just feel worse. Because I love them too and it’s not their fault. Cap and Loops didn’t even get a choice in the matter. How messed up is it to be jealous of somebody that got outed?”

“Emotions are complex. It is possible for you to have sympathy for Sirius and Remus, whilst still feeling jealous that they now can be more open about their relationship.”

'I don't like it," Finn huffed. The sentence had come out mimicking a toddler having a tantrum. Finn wanted to act like one too, to throw himself on the floor and scream.

“Have you spoken to Leo or Logan about it?”

“No,” Finn frowned. “It would just make them sad and I don’t want them to pressure them. I don’t want them to know I think such horrible things.”

“Okay,” Heather nodded. “Imagine one of them came to you and told you everything you’d just told me. What would you say to them?”

“Wait.” A distressed noise fell from Finn’s lips. “Do they talk to you about this too? Both of them make a comment here or there, but we talked about it not long ago and we agreed that we weren’t ready.”

“Finn, you know I can’t tell you about what I discuss with Leo or Logan.”

“It was worth a shot,” Finn shrugged.

“So, what would you say?”

“I’d say they are entitled to be jealous. I'd say it’s not fair we don’t get to do everything the others do just because the world is homophobic and close minded and can’t imagine the three of us could love each other exactly the same as every other more traditional couple. I’d say that I know they don’t hate Cap or Loops or Potts or Lily, they hate the situation and that’s completely understandable. It fucking sucks and they can be angry about it." Finn drew in a hulking breath, Heather's outline a little blurred through his wet eyes. Each word had sent an aching pain through his body, similar to when he ran, only now he felt like was chasing something cathartic rather than running away.

"Earlier you said what you had to tell me was dumb," Heather said. "Can you explain why you think that it's dumb for you to feel that way, horrible even, but if it were Leo or Logan their feelings are valid."

"Maybe it's not dumb," Finn looked down at his hands, tracing over the freckles there. "But that doesn't change the fact I don't like having those thoughts. Especially when I don't want to act on them. I’m okay with waiting to tell people about us, if we ever do. They're not ready. I'm not ready."

"That’s something we can work on. Helping you to reframe those thoughts, I mean.” Heather slipped her notebook from where it had been tucked beside her and made a note. Finn leaned his elbow on his leg, tucking his chin onto his fist, trying to make his attempts to see the page surreptitious. Capping her pen, she gave a small chuckle, “I’m just leaving myself a reminder of what we’ve discussed. You can always ask what I’m writing, I’m not trying to keep secrets from you.”

Finn sat back, the book no longer quite so interesting now that it wasn’t forbidden. “So? That’s it?”

Heather hummed. “For today. I think you’ve got a lot to think about already. I’ll schedule some more sessions with you over the next few days, okay? It’ll give me a chance to get some new pretzels.”

"Thanks," Finn laughed, then gestured at the empty bowl. "For the pretzels. And the talk."

“That’s what I’m here for,” Heather said. “I’m just going to ask one thing of you before I see you next. Please try to keep your evening runs to a reason-”

“Who snitched?”

“There was no snitching, as you call it. We’ve just known each other for a while now, Finn. And as an employee of the Lions whose job it is to make sure you’re at top playing ability, I don’t want you to injure yourself. As your psychologist, I want you to have healthy coping mechanisms and exercising to that extent is not healthy.”

“I know,” Finn unfolded his legs, stretching them out. They’d gone stiff after being sat on for so long, the sensation coming back with an uncomfortable tingle. “I’ll try to keep the runs in check, promise.” His gaze fell on the closed door, steeling himself to leave. He stood, sending Heather one last smile. It was safe in here, but his boys were out there.

“See you soon, Finn.”

Stepping out of the office, Finn closed his eyes, giving himself a second to compose himself. A rustle of movement to his left caught his attention, startling a little at the sight of Leo and Logan. They sat on the floor, Leo’s hand resting on Logan’s knee where they were hunched to his chest.

“Sorry,” Leo scrambled to his feet, his arm outstretched to let Logan pull himself upright too. “We didn’t want to wait too far away. In case, well, I don’t know, you needed us.”

Finn joined them, immediately finding Logan attached to his side, his familiar warmth exactly what he wanted right now. “I’m okay,” he assured. “I’m not sure I’m ready to talk about it with you guys just yet. I need a bit of time to process, but just you being here makes things better. I’m going to see Heather a bit more too.”

“Proud of you.” Leo flanked him on the other side, taking his hand. Finn didn’t get to be in the middle often, Logan usually claiming the spot, and he felt like he had a kind of shield. “We just want you to be happy. And safe.”

“Can we go home, please?”

“Ouais, home,” Logan agreed.

#finn o'hara #logan tremblay #leo knut #heather #sweater weather #coast to coast #lumosinlove #rating: t #cw: overexercising #cw: food #cw: self-depreciation #cw: coming out #cw:outing

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artickoushi · 3 years

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welcome home, master!

oikawa tooru x f!reader

i feel like the end is rushed, so sorry about that, but i hope you enjoy! p.s , this is unedited.

god the world was cruel.

it always seemed as if you had... less luck than the average human being. and if today was anything to go by? yeah. you really were the unluckiest person in the world.

ever since you were born you had been naturally klutzy to simmer it down.

you were unlucky in the worst possible way, and you had come to accept that. partially.

you had learned to deal with it and honestly you were at the point of not getting embarrassed one tiny bit when you fell in front of large crowds.

you did however get embarrassed in front of one specific person.

but the world seemed to be in a particularly bad mood this afternoon.

you started off your day by tripping down the stairs, then you stepped in gum on your way to work not to mention the bird that pooped on you minutes earlier, then you walked straight into the door that lead into your work, and after that one of your fellow employees had bumped into you in the locker room and your head nearly got stuck inside your locker.

yeah it was a wonderful morning so far.

thankfully one of your work friends had helped you clean up your appearance before your shift started and everything seemed to be going smooth for a few hours after that.

around 11:45 the front bell had rung out, signaling the arrival of another customer.

you glanced up from the table you were scrubbing to check if it was one of the regulars, and your froze.

your eyes widening to the size of saucers and your mouth dropping agape in shock. your hand halted its tiny circles with the pale blue rag that sat clenched beneath your nails.

whispers immediately swarmed between the other waitresses, all of them swooning to each other at the sight of the newest customer.

your eyes quickly adverted towards the table you were scrubbing, praying to god that he didn’t see of recognize you.

if he did, you would never live this down. oh for gods sake he sucked with secrets, that fat mouth of his couldn’t keep a secret to save his own life.

oh crap, would you really have to hide from him for the rest of the time? after going to restaurants previously with him and his team you knew he liked to linger and talk to almost every waitress that was in sight- and oh god you were in sight.

wait- no. your towards the back of the café its not as if he’ll call to you from the front of the small building, yeah. besides, he’d have to recognize you before he’d even think of doing something like-

“yahoo! table for one please.”

you sighed shakily and kept your eyes trained on the stains you had to get off the table, ignoring the burning feeling of him staring into your back.

after a few moments of the waitresses silently arguing of who would get to sit the boy, your friend quickly jumped in.

“welcome master! we have plenty of choices today, so pick any table of your choosing!” she smiled, gesturing towards the more busy side of the cafe.

his sepia eyes glazed across the building, quickly landing on your semi distant form. tossing a thanks back towards your friend, he started moving himself towards the empty corner.

that just so happened to be smack in the middle of your section.

great.

so now here you stood. a serving tray tucked under your arms in front of you, your lips pursed and eyes looking everywhere other than into the smug pools of dark chocolate hues that sat in front of you.

oikawa tooru.

the seijoh pretty boy.

the seijoh prince.

he’s known by many names to girls and boys alike. whether you like him or not you would at least know of his name, unless you’ve been living under a rock of course.

however to you, he was most well known as your long term crush.

it was cliche and stupid, honestly. and you reminded yourself of the fact everyday.

however, no matter what you did to get yourself over him so you could leave this not so tiny crush behind, your stupidly stubborn heart was set on him.

his lips were turned upwards into a tiny smirk, his eyes narrowed ever so slightly as he trailed his sight over you from top to bottom, and back to top.

your hair was done neatly and styled in a adorable way he had seen you wear a few times during hangouts with the team.

now he understood why you were late.

your outfit consisted of a traditional black and white maid outfit. you had a lace up front for the bodice, it had a black base and a white criss-crossing satin ribbon.

a decent portion of the collar bone and chest area was cut out of the outfit, but the fabric connected around your neck, similar to a choker.

your legs were wrapped in cute black thigh high stockings with a bit of white fluff at the top, partially hiding the black garter strap that connected to the underside of your layered skirt.

you wouldn’t dare say anything. you were still clinging onto the small glimmer of hope that he hadn’t recognized you yet, but if you were to speak? oh no he’d be sure to recognize you right away!

however you knew deep down he had recognized you the moment he walked in.

he cleared his throat and reluctantly you glanced down, your eyes locking with his.

the corners of his lips tugged up ever so slightly, a curious glint lingering in his dark eyes.

you plastered a strained smile over your lips and forced out your greeting- well.. your modified version of the usual greeting.

“what can i get you? would you like a menu, or to hear the specials and deals?” you spoke hurriedly, hoping to get this interaction over and done with as quickly as possible.

your hopes were quickly shattered though, when he didn’t answer. he simply hummed a small tune.

“hmm, correct me if im wrong...” he started. “but aren’t you forgetting something, dear?” he questioned.

you coughed nervously, your eyes flickering around the room anxiously, sending your friend a distressed look as if she could squeeze you out of the situation. she simply smiled apologetically, and shrugged her shoulders.

yours slumping down in defeat.

your e/c hues slid over to meet his chocolate one, and with a hesitant sigh, you forced a smile and greeted him as you were supposed to.

“welcome home, master! is there something I can get for you today?”

god this job was the bane of your entire existence. it was no wonder you took a job so far from school, this was the entire reason why.

having to call not only a classmate, but your crush, master, was something you never wanted to do in your entire life.

it was absolutely humiliating.

now of course this was your job, and you got paid decently well for what you did all day, so you managed to suck up your embarrassment and call the strangers that come in master, but you never see them outside of the café, so you learned to deal with it.

but having to call someone, who don’t forget, you see every single day of your life, master? now that you don’t know how to deal with.

he smiled, his heart stuttering for a moment underneath the smug persona he held, a blush creeping up from the bottom of his neck.

he cleared his throat, his left hand coming up to push his bangs away before stating he wanted the ‘om-nom omu-rice’.

you sighed internally, despite the fact that you had just cleaned all the pans in the kitchen, and didn’t want to dirty them up just yet, your smile broadened at the glorious opportunity the world had gifted you.

you knew oikawa like the back of your hand. you had grown up close friends with hanamaki and matsukawa, so you therefore hung out with the entire volleyball team a good bit as the three of you were what they called ‘a packaged deal’.

if one of you went somewhere, the other two were close behind, if not directly behind the aforementioned one.

either way, you giggled and nodded your head happily. “of course! it’ll be out soon with a special message, master!” you winked, before turning on your heel and strutting yourself towards the kitchen.

moments passed, you had brought oikawa a green tea as he requested when you came to check on him.

his fingers typed idly on his phone while he waited for his food to come out. he pondered whether he should tell the groupchat or not about your little job, but he later came to the conclusion that if you were working this far away you probably wouldn’t want anyone to know, so he decided against it.

after a few more moments of playing some idle app on his phone, a white ceramic plate was set down in front of him, along with a refill on his tea.

putting his phone down, he sent you a quick smile and a thanks before you walked off with an ‘i hope you enjoy it’.

after unwrapping his knife and fork, he pulled the plate closer to himself and opened his camera app so he could take a picture of the ketchup art.

glancing at it quickly, a loud snort echoed throughout the small cafe. boisterous chuckles and giggles falling from his lips as be documented the beautiful art on his omelet.

on the omelet sat “F U” with a beautifully crafted middle finger underneath it.

#artickoushi #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x f!reader #oikawa tooru #tooru oikawa #oikawa tooru x f!reader #tooru oikawa x f!reader #oikawa tooru x reader #tooru oikawa x reader #oikawa #oikawa x f!reader #oikawa x reader #tooru #tooru x f!reader #tooru x reader

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yyxgin · 3 years

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babe i have plenty of stories!! this is my fourth year as a waitress. this is my third waitressing gig.

the drink runner boy hasn’t needed to learn how to take food orders bc he’s on bar! a lot of the girls there now are going to uni in october and tbh three out of the six hired new starters are going to uni in october too. so basically the staff is gonna drop down sooner or later (some of them were actually leaving this week and last but the manager keeps putting them on thé rota? i think she’s pushing her luck tbh) so i guess he has a reason to learn so he’s ready when the staff drops down. ALSO. one of the ladies asked me where i was from and after i told her she goes ‘oh i thought i recognised you!’ and she told me the road she lived on and i told her i went to the highschool at the bottom of it and... god. she told me the drinks runner lives on the same road and i’m trying to figure out if i recognise him or not. bc i felt like i did right at the beginning and she set me off after telling me that but... man, idk.

my dog’s name is summer, she’s a labrador x springer spaniel. her mum was a fox lab (colour) so her springer spaniel freckles are this lovely goldeny brown colour. i say she’s ginger and my dad tells me off and pets her 😭 i took her off her lead today for the first time and she ate sumn 🤢 it’s too vulgar to tell you honestly.

i had a two hour break at work on monday so i went to the shops and bc where i work is kind of posh i felt like i had to buy something (also there’s two of the posh-er superstores so take that with a pinch of salt) so i bought a plant 🪴 lmao self control is out the window tbh.

and today i bought the dessert thingies the food runner lady let me try! they didn’t do a ‘selection’ multipack only multipacks of just one flavour (does that make sense?) so i got a pack of lychee, a pack of mango and a pack of strawberry (all the flavours they had) and am praying im on a lunch shift next week so i can give it to her when it’s not busy. or at least open them when it’s not busy and share (which is what i wanted to do today but i was planning to kill two birds with one stone and offer the drinks runner one too 😎 big brain. and the kitchen staff if they want some. i believe they’re thai dessert treats and it took me forever to find them (i ended up going to a warehouse for asian foods) but i’m happy i did).

we making moves out here! i’ve been added to the girls’ groupchat for work and i’m happy to be in 🥺 i feel like it would be weird to add all their snap’s straight away so i’m just kind of lingering... man i’m so nervous all the time 😭😭😭😭

anyway!! ask and you shall receive, my love. i’ll tell you any old story, there’s plenty stored away in my head.

im sure your boss is just waiting until you’re due in. in the nicest way possible, there’s not really a need to message you until your first day, i’d say. be sure to ask loads of questions when you’re there!! especially about your paycheck, how you receive it, how often you get paid, any detail you want to know, you must ask before it’s too late. i trust you do that anyway but still!! sorry if im droning, i just worry about people a lot.

it’s also midnight again, i’ve definitely forgotten some things to say but i shall sleep and get my beauty rest for tomorrow’s shift ❤️ ily2 bb

ooh i hope that boy learns how to do it quickly so he can stand in and do the things he has to :// also woRLD IS A SMALL PLACE OMG its so weird how close-by you all are😩 is your town small perhaps ??

omg summer is a legend😔✊ i was at the vet w my grandmas dog today and he was so scared i felt so bad for him🥺he almost jumped down from the table thank god my aunt was holding him. he is a village dog so everything abt the city scared him and getting him there by car was a very difficult journey sksksk

I SUPPORT YOUR NEWEST PLANT ADDITION❤ selfcare. my cactus bloomed flowers for the first time today and i got so excited omg

aah you sound so precious,,sharing food is the best way to get close to someone imo. also i appreciate the effort you put in to get those and i really want to try it now😭 AND DONT BE NERVOUS IM SURE THEY ALL LOVE U !!

i mean im sure she is just busy and will probably call me soon but,,i have never been relaxed in my life ever so i am just really anxious and nervous abt everything and its so new to me soo yeah💔 thanks for the advice !!! i know all abt the paychecks and stuff bc we talked abt it already in the job interview and i'll make sure to ask a lot of questions !! dont worry djsj everyone babies me bc i am pretty much a baby so i dont mind the advice and u looking after me lol <3

sleep well !! i hope u have an amazing day tomorrow 🤩🤍 ily

#💌ask #🌻 anon

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ladypogue · 4 years

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Used to This (part 3)

Summary: Ella starts her first shift at the Wreck. While working a certain blue eyed boy comes in looking for Kie but stays with Ella. The pair hangs out during and after her shift. This is the start of something new.

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: the slightest little bit of swearing at the end. but other than that none :)

A/N: hello all! I am still eternally grateful for you if you are reading this story. Sorry for the late update, I’ve been having migraines recently so its been hard to stare at a screen but I’m feeling better so I hope to be back on a normal update schedule again. Also would you guys be interested if I started writing imagines, one shots, blurbs, etc? If so lmk and send requests! I have a few ideas....as always feedback is greatly appreciated. love y’all! :)

Series Masterlist

Part 3

Ella woke up excited for the day, today was her first day working at the Wreck as a waitress. Heading downstairs to start on her breakfast, she pulled out her phone to see if JJ had texted her. Slightly disappointed that she didn’t have a text from the boy, she shook off the feeling and carried on with her morning; scrolling through her phone, taking her breakfast upstairs to start getting ready, not wanting to be late for her first day.

Making her way down to the restaurant popular with tourists, 15 minutes early for her shift, she walked through the doors looking for either Kiara or her dad, not quite sure what she was supposed to be doing today. One of the other waitresses showed Ella where she could put her things and gave her an apron, telling her to sit at the bar and Kiara would be out to show her the ropes.

Kie came out from the kitchen greeting Ella and giving her a brief run-down of what her days will look like. Kie then continued to explain that for the day she would just be working register in order to get her used to the computer system. Completely fine with that, Ella smiled and watched intently as Kie showed her how to ring people up and how to open the register drawer when it got stuck, it was old, so the drawer was sometimes sticky. Excited to officially start her day, Ella took her place behind the register while Kiara went back into the kitchen to help her dad. She was prepared for whatever the day may bring, though she was hoping that it would be an easy first day.

The sun shining brightly through the windows of the chateau is what woke JJ as he had passed out on the pull out couch the night before. Pulling the pillow over his head, JJ groaned and rolled back over after checking the time, relieved to realize that he didn’t have to get up for school, not that he went that often anyways. Sleeping in for another few hours, he re-awoke and made his way to the bathroom to get ready for the day. JJ practically lived with John B at the chateau, especially since Big John went missing. He’ll tell anybody that asks that it’s because he doesn’t want John B to get lonely and that his friend shouldn’t have to go through this alone. And while all of that was true, JJ would never admit out loud that it was also because he was avoiding his own problems at home. John B knew about JJ’s homelife, so he graciously accepts the company that his best friend since third grade offers him. It’s nice to know he’s not alone in that house, but also because he knows JJ is safe if he stays with him. Ready to start his day, JJ laced up his boots, grabbed his phone and went outside to wait for Pope so they can go to the Wreck to get food. Looking at his phone he suddenly remembered the girl from last night, Ella. Just thinking about her put a smile on JJ’s face. He opened his contacts, shooting her a quick message.

To Ella: Hey! It’s JJ. Sry I didn’t txt you last night, after cleaning up I went straight to sleep. I wanted to say it was nice meeting u and I hope to see u again. :)

Pressing send, JJ laid back on the hammock letting his mind wander about the girl. What was she like? Did she have any pets? JJ hoped she had a dog. What were her likes and dislikes? Was she single, and if she was would she even go for a guy like JJ? He couldn’t help but imagine her as a part of his life. He pictured them spending the day together at the beach, him teaching her how to surf and her not being good at it so they give up and just swim in the ocean, his arms wrapped around her waist and hers around his neck. Eventually he would get the courage to pull her in for a sweet kiss, imagining how she tastes. He imagines she would taste sweet, her lips soft and her tongue warm.

JJ’s daydream was cut short by the sound of footsteps approaching. He looked up and locked eyes with Pope. Swinging his legs over the edge and standing up, he rubbed his hands together walking towards his friend, “Ready to go?” JJ questioned.

“Yeah, but I told my pops we’d help him with a delivery before we go.” Pope told him while walking away from the chateau. JJ just groaned, wanting to go see Kie and get some food. Checking his phone once more before putting it in his pocket, JJ sighed seeing no response from Ella. It was stupid of him to get his hopes up, a beautiful girl like that giving him the time of day, as if. Shrugging it off, not letting it affect his mood, JJ picked up his pace and caught up with Pope, jumping into conversation, letting the boy’s rambling distract him from the small twinge in his heart at the thought of being rejected.

Back at the Wreck, Ella’s first day was going smooth. She had a few mishaps here and there but that was to be expected and Kiara was always right there to help her. Throughout the lulls in customers, Kiara and Ella got to talking. Having essentially known each other their whole lives, it was amazing how little they knew about each other. However, the conversation flowed seamlessly between the two, and they both could tell that they would end up being good friends.

The two girls were stood at the counter, giggling with each other, when they heard the bell above the door chime, signaling that it was time to go back to work. Kie grabbed a cloth and went to wipe down tables, preparing for whoever it was that walked in the door. Ella turned ready to great her new customers, when she froze, breath caught in her throat at the sight of JJ Maybank. He had yet to see her as his was searching the floor for Kie, ready to beg her for food. As he scanned the restaurant, his eyes skimmed past the girl standing behind the counter, having to do a double take JJ broke out into a grin once he realized who it was. Ella made eye contact with the blonde, timidly smiling, feeling a blush creep up on her cheeks. She was definitely more nervous, not only over the fact that he was even more attractive in the daylight, but she didn’t have any alcohol in her system to calm her and give her a confidence boost. JJ sauntered over to the counter to talk to the girl who’d been running through his mind while Pope made his way over to the table Kie was currently wiping down.

JJ couldn’t help but admire her natural beauty as she stood there in her uniform with her hair tied up in a messy ponytail, small pieces of her hair framing her face. She wore light makeup, only concealer under her eyes and mascara, but JJ still thought she was beautiful. He didn’t know she worked here, especially since they spent a lot of time at the Wreck as a group, he was sure he would have noticed her, and Kie didn’t mention any new hires. Sitting down in front of her, JJ felt his confidence waiver. She hadn’t responded to his text, so maybe she didn’t want to see him.

“Hi JJ.” She smiled at him lightly, tucking a loose piece of hair behind her ear, his confidence slowly rising.

“Hey.” He replied simply, “I didn’t know you worked here.”

“Today’s my first day.”

“Ahh, well congrats on your first day, I think you’ll like it here.”

“I already do, everyone is super friendly and made me feel welcomed.”

“Well that’s great!”

A silence fell over the two, it wasn’t awkward, but it wasn’t comfortable either. Ella was debating if she should bring up the fact that JJ never texted her. She didn’t want to seem desperate, but she was also playing into what her friends had planted in her mind, that JJ was only going to use her. She didn’t want to believe her friends, but she kept the wall up around her just in case, not wanting to get hurt. Meanwhile, sitting across from her, JJ’s brain was turning a mile a minute. He was trying to get a read on the girl, but to no avail. She kept herself heavily guarded and only let JJ see what she wanted him to see. It was frustrating. How was he supposed to get to know her if he couldn’t even pick up on subtle things?

“Are you gonna order anything or are you just gonna sit there?” Ella asked curiously, not trying to be rude but also not wanting to get in trouble with Mr. Carrera.

“That all depends, what time do you get off?”

Taken aback by his question, Ella shook her head lightly, “What does that have to do with if you’re going to order or not?”

“Well, if you work for a couple more hours, I’ll order so I’m not sitting here starving.” JJ said, even though he had every intention of just getting the food from Kie, knowing she would bring food out soon enough for the boys.

“I get off in 2 hours.” Ella stated simply, looking back down at her receipts making sure everything is in order.

Just as he was about to reply, Kiara came back over to the pair, ready to scold JJ for undoubtedly flirting with Ella. “JJ Maybank, you better not be harassing my newest employee, we need the help and I don’t need you scaring her off.” Kie half joked but was also half serious, she knew his tendencies and Ella was nice girl who didn’t need corrupted by her flirtatious friend. JJ put his hands up in surrender, “I wasn’t flirting, I promise.” At this Ella felt her heart break a little, of course he wasn’t flirting with her. She was just caught up in her crush, so she was seeing and hearing what she wanted to. Shaking her head and smiling at the two, Ella walked away, going to find anything to keep her busy and away from JJ.

JJ shot Kie a confused look, to which she just shrugged her shoulders. The boy went after Ella, wanting to continue to hang out with her and wanting to make sure they were still good. As he got up, Kie shot him a warning look, reminding him that she was there to work and not hang out. As Ella’s shift starts to wind down, she continues to entertain JJ’s antics while keeping focused on her work. While JJ continues to follow her around like a puppy, Pope and Kie sit in the back at a table just watching the two, bemused. It was weird for them to see JJ act this way, but it warmed their hearts that maybe JJ had a shot at love. They would have to tease him about it later.

Taking her place behind the counter one last time, with JJ sat in front of her on a bar stool, Ella started finishing up her tasks, ready to leave for the night.

“What are you doing after this?” JJ asked, noticing her finishing up and not ready to part ways.

“I was planning on going home and watching Netflix.”

“Would you maybe want to hang out more? I want to continue to get to know you.”

Ella felt her cheeks and neck heat up, agreeing, happy to spend time with the boy not during her work shift.

Clocking out and grabbing her stuff, she waved bye to Kie and Pope. Ella follows closely behind JJ, not sure what he had planned, if anything. JJ leads the two of them down to the beach, kicking off their shoes they start to walk along the warm sand. Falling into conversation easily, the two found a spot and sat down, sitting closer than necessary. In her head, Ella said that it was because it was a starting to get chilly with the breeze and the lack of sun, but really, she knew it was because she wanted to feel his skin on hers.

“So, am I not good enough to receive a text from the notorious JJ Maybank?” Ella joked, nudging her shoulder with JJ’s.

“I did text you. Because you are far more than good enough. You just never responded.” JJ looked at her confusedly, shrugging his shoulders trying to seem unbothered.

Pulling out her phone and going to her messages, she sees a message from an unknown number. Guilt washed through her and she smiled sheepishly at JJ as she added him to her contacts.

“I was at work already so I must not have seen it. And then you showed up, so I didn’t have to wonder if you texted me.”

JJ chuckled, teasing her lightly, “you were looking for my text?”

“I wouldn’t say looking so to say, but I wouldn’t have been upset at seeing your name on my screen.”

Slinging his arm around her shoulder and pulling her closer, he felt his insides warm at the thought of her wanting JJ to text her.

“I was nervous when you didn’t reply that maybe you didn’t want be friends.” JJ replied, mumbling under his breath hoping she didn't hear him.

She had heard him loud and clear. “Of course, I wanna be friends JJ” she smiled up at him, resting her head on his shoulder.

JJ smiled back down at her, happy she wanted to have him as a part of her life. The two continued to get to know each other, telling stories from their past, both cracking up at what the other would share. Neither was sure how things felt so easy, but they weren’t complaining. They were just soaking in everything about each other. Checking the time, Ella realized she had to get home as it was almost midnight and her shift ended almost 4 hours ago. JJ offered to walk her home, stopping outside her front door, he awkwardly shuffled back and forth with his hands in his pockets.

“I guess I’ll see you later then?” JJ asked, hoping that the girl would want to hang out again. Maybe he could bring her around the pogues.

“Sure. Text me when you get home, so I know you’re safe.” Ella said with a soft smile coating her face. JJ returned her smile with an “of course” before he turned around and started his commute back to the chateau.

Ella made her way into her house and up to her room, tip toeing, not wanting to wake her parents. Quietly making her way into her bathroom and taking a shower, Ella couldn’t help but smile to herself as she recounted her evening with the Maybank boy. She wished she could have taken a picture to remember how he looked in the moonlight as they sat by the water. She relinquished in the feeling of his arm around her, wishing it never had to have ended. All Ella wanted to do was text Sophia and Grace and tell them about her date, could she call it date? She didn’t even know; all she knew was she wanted to tell someone about what had happened. Instead she settled for squealing into her pillow and flopping on her bed. Shooting her friends, a text about how her first day went, leaving out the parts about JJ, not ready for them to remind her that he wasn’t good for her. She opened their text thread and sent him a message;

To JJ: Had a really nice time tonight. Thank you for making my first day at work one to remember :)

Pressing send, Ella turned over and fell asleep, hoping to dream about the boy with ocean blue eyes.

JJ walked into the chateau and was greeted by John B sitting on the couch watching some reality show on the TV. Nodding to his friend, he went to the kitchen to grab himself a beer and joined John B on the couch. Upon sitting down, John B smirked at him, just waiting for him to notice. Feeling his gaze, JJ looked over, confused at the look on his face as he brought his beer bottle up to his lips.

“What?” JJ asked incredulously.

“Nothing. Nothing. Just Kie and Pope stopped by, said you went off with the girl from the kegger. Ella was it?” he continued to smirk when he noticed JJ start to blush.

“Shut up. We’re just getting to know each other.”

“Uh huh, ‘getting to know each other’. JJ you have never gotten to know a girl, you’ve always been a love ‘em and leave ‘em type”

“I don’t know man. Somethings just different with her. When she bumped into me, I just felt this almost instant connection with her. Like she was meant to bump into me. I can’t explain, all I know is I enjoy her company.”

John B smiled at his friend, seeing how much Ella already meant to the boy even though they really just met.

“Bring her around some time. If she means that much to you already then I’m sure she’ll mean a lot to us as well.”

“I will. For sure. Just maybe not yet, I don’t even know if she likes me and I don’t need you guys fucking this up for me, at least not more than I’m bound to.” JJ didn’t want to think about his destructive tendencies when it came to relationships. He wasn’t ready to let this one go.

“I’m offended that you think we would fuck this up for you, but I get it. I really do.” John B knew how his friend could get, so he would do everything in his power to make sure that this worked out in his favor, even if that meant postponing meeting the girl that seemed to have captured JJ's heart. He wanted nothing than to see his friend be happy.

“Yeah, yeah. You know I love you guys. I’m gonna go to bed, I’ll see you in the morning” JJ stated before making his way into the guest room before collapsing on the bed. Shooting Ella a text, seeing she already texted him, he grinned to himself.

To Ella: Had a really nice time 2night too :) I got back safe, maybe we could hang tmrw if ur not busy? Just lmk! Good night Ella :)

JJ expected that the girl was probably already in bed so he turned off his light, crawling under the covers, falling asleep while scrolling through his phone, looking forward to the days to come.

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nev3rfound · 5 years

Text

not who you think : s.r

brief summary: bucky becomes curious as Steve starts sneaking off. but when he realises Steve has a secret girlfriend, she isn’t the only secret left to uncover

word count: 1.3k requested: yes - by @alexisj42kp thank you for the cool idea, hope it turned out as you hoped. warnings: none that i’m aware of!

* masterlist of sorts *

part one / part two / part three / part four / part five / part six / part seven / part eight

Over the course of the past two months, there was something different about Steve and it didn’t go unnoticed.

Despite his best efforts to remain stoic and avoid being overly happy, he couldn’t help himself. Which was what first alerted Bucky that something had happened. From that moment, it didn’t take long for Sam to become in on it as the pair remained curious as to what had Steve so joyful all of a sudden.

Walking into the kitchen Steve smiled to the pair as he picked up an apple as he headed over to the window. “What a mornin’ it is.” Steve happily sighs as Bucky and Sam share a look, mornings were never the nicest, especially when there’s a walking ray of sunshine in the room.

“Sure is nice.” Sam comments as he straightens up. “Got any plans today, Cap?”

Steve pauses as he looks at them both, watching them carefully as Bucky remains expressionless, merely sipping his coffee. “I don’t think so. Might go for a run.” Steve states as he heads out of the kitchen before Sam can rise to his feet.

“Great try there Sam.” Bucky mutters as Sam rolls his eyes, returning to his seat as Steve jogs back to his room, knowing a message should be awaiting him.

“What do you suggest we do then, Buck?” Sam asks as Bucky glances over, a smile forming on his face.

“The best thing I can do,” He mutters into his mug. “spy on him.”

Unaware of being followed, Steve heads out of the compound and straight to the subway.

Over the course of the past few months, hiding in plain sight became something Steve had no choice but to perfect. Ever since he set his eyes on you he knew he couldn’t be without you, meaning he had to venture out of the compound without being noticed by the public. Being Captain America didn’t exactly make him a discreet character to not recognise.

“Where’s he goin’?” Sam asks as Bucky enters the next cabin down from Steve’s.

Closely Bucky scans the space, motioning to Sam which one Steve was; baseball cap and glasses on, thick beard. It was the ideal disguise, hiding that poster boy look he was infamous for.

“Our boy’s getting good.” Bucky mutters as they closely watch Steve leave the Subway and follow closely, knowing they’re less likely to get their cover blown than Steve would.

Picking up his pace, Steve glances down realising he’s running late. It was something he hated, the sense of holding someone up on his behalf, being the reason they’re sat alone contemplating if they’ll turn up. But Steve would always turn up for you, without any doubt.

Slowing down Steve catches his breath as he walks into the cafe, nodding to the usual waitress who smiles politely. “She’s in booth three for you dear.” The lady motions to the booth as you remain with your back turned.

Steve walks over, his smile already growing as his heartbeat picks up at the sight of you. “Hey stranger,” He mutters as he slips into the booth, sitting opposite you. “this seat taken?”

Lowering your book you shake your head. “Shame it is now I think about it.” You joke back as you reach over, slipping his sunglasses off as you smile to him. “Hey Cap,” You smile as your hand rests in his. “how’re things going?”

“You’re telling me that Steve Rogers has a girlfriend?” Sam watches in amazement whilst Bucky remains silent. “Damn, our boy is getting good!” Laughing to himself Sam takes a step away, nudging Bucky to do the same but he doesn’t oblige, he never will to Sam.

The waitress brings over your drinks. “For my two favourite love birds,” She chimes in as the two of you smile shyly to one another. “oh don’t get all nervous on my account. I see that look you two share,” Looking over to you she gives you a sweet smile that causes heat to rise in your cheeks. “you treat her well, young man.” The waitress pats Steve’s shoulder lightly before walking off, leaving you two to return to your personal bubble.

In that space, you could talk about anything and everything. In that booth, Steve was Steve. He wasn’t the Captain America everyone saw him as. He was Steve, the polite guy who spilt his coffee on you once and refused to let you leave until he got you one to make up for the trouble. He was the guy who took you dancing and would play games with you until the early hours of the morning.

“What have I missed then?” Steve asks as he focuses on your eyes, how they crease when you get shy and automatically lift your hand to cover your face.

Shrugging your shoulders you look around the room. “Only the fact that I beat your ass and got the newest high score.” You wink and Steve sighs dramatically, lifting his arms up in annoyance whilst you laugh. “Beat that, Rogers.”

“Oh doll, you know I easily will.” He comments as he chuckles at your antics, something he’ll never tire of. “But really, how’re things?”

Steve watched as you shifted, something you had a habit of doing when it came to your personal life. It wasn’t that you had a bad past, you were just more reserved to admit the things you once had to go through. “Things are okay. I, I’m seeing my brother this week.” You quietly speak up as you sip your drink for a distraction. “He wanted to come check up on me, make sure I’m keeping outta trouble and all.”

“Does he know about us yet?” As soon as the words leave his lips he regrets thinking aloud. Opening his eyes, Steve watches as you avoid his gaze. “I shouldn’t have said that it’s still early days, Y/n.”

Shaking your head in response he pauses. “No, it’s not that. It’s just, my brother isn’t exactly the most reasonable character.”

All Steve wanted to do was ask you more, ask about your family, what your brother was involved in that gave you that impression. But he didn’t want to overdo it, scare you off when you were finally allowing yourself to be open with him.

“Sounds familiar, actually.” Steve mutters as he glances up, seeing two figures quickly move out of view.

“Okay, that was too close.” Bucky states as Sam nods along.

“Did you see her, though?” Sam asks and Bucky sadly shakes his head. “I just want to see the girl that has finally thawed Steve’s heart.”

Bucky watches closely, seeing you rise to your feet as he pats Sam’s chest repeatedly. “She’s heading to the bathroom.” He informs Sam who sighs in response. “We’ll see her comin’ back.”

Patiently, the two wait as you walk out from the bathroom holding your head low. “Woah,” Sam whistles whilst Bucky focuses on you.

Slowly, Bucky shakes his head in disbelief as you lift your head up, pushing your hair out of your face as you return to the booth. “No,” Bucky tells himself as he begins to walk away, Sam turned to see his friend walking off.

“Bucky? What’s up, you know her?” Sam asks as Bucky scoffs lightly. “Oh she’s not an ex is she? Do you guys ever talk about that?”

Turning to face Sam, Bucky merely gives him a silencing look. “It’s worse than that, Sam.” Bucky sighs as he runs his fingers through his hair. “She’s an assassin I trained with for two years. I think she might be trying to kill Steve.”

Unaware of the reality before him, Steve leans over the booth, kissing you softly. “I’ll talk to you later, yeah?” He asks as you nod in response. “I love you.” He lets his hand slip out of yours as he exits the cafe, realising what words just left his lips.

“He’s a dead man walking.” Bucky states as the pair watch Steve walk off, having you stuck on his mind.

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artificialqueens · 4 years

Text

Chamomiles, Chrysanthemums, and Everything In Between [Gigi x Nicky] - ChaosKatya

summary: In which Gigi’s a florist, and she’d like to think she usually has a pretty good head on her shoulders. That is until a new tattoo artist starts shifts in the studio opposite and well, now Gigi’s not quite sure what’s going on with herself anymore. Everyone else seems to know, but Gigi sure doesn’t.

a/n: first full chapter ive ever posted! again, let me know what you think @chaoskatya <3

“Gigi… Earth to Miss Goode? Gigi. GIGI!”

Jaida claps loud, startling Gigi from her trance. Bolting up from where she was leaning on the counter, she turns so quickly to face her coworker she nearly knocks her iced coffee flying. She stumbles for it, saving it from tipping over, smiling sweet like nothing happened.

“Yes, Miss Hall?”

Jaida laughs softly. “Do not Miss Hall me. Girl I was talking to you for a hot minute before I realized no one was home up in that pretty head of yours.”

“Rude. I was nodding and everything?”

“Uh huh. And what was I talking about?” Jaida props her hand on her hip, waiting for an answer.

Gigi wracks her brain, and comes up empty. She at least tries to smile to make up for it. “Uhh, the schedule for the succulent shipment arriving tomorrow?”

Jaida laughs, loud and brief. “Ha! Nice try. Wrong.” She swipes for Gigi’s drink, taking a hearty sip to cement her new ownership.

“Hey–!” Gigi tries to protest, attempting to grab for it but Jaida just holds up a perfectly manicured nail at her.

“Nu uh. You don’t deserve this. ‘Sides, it was totally half melted from how long you were spacing out there. What’s on your mind, girl?”

“Nothing! I’m just. Distracted, that’s all,” Gigi sighs, and can’t help but flicker her eyes out towards Wallflower’s storefront.

Jaida doesn’t miss it. She follows Gigi’s eyes out the window, and raises her eyebrows in understanding. “Mmhm… I’m sure you are,” she smirks and walks away, sipping Gigi’s coffee loudly for punctuation, “Make sure you finish your orders for pickup today before you chase your french fantasy, ma cheri.”

Gigi opens her mouth to argue, then just makes a frustrated noise in defeat. Jaida’s not wrong, she just hates how obvious it’s become. It’s been getting worse, now only 10 am and her head’s already in the clouds and she has yet to actually start working on any of the arrangements she’d meant to have started almost an hour ago. Tying her long hair out of her eyes, she stands at her work station for a good while, staring at the order forms handed to her this morning. All small individual orders, mostly early Valentine’s arrangements for folks looking to beat the inevitable price hike or gifting early to work around prior plans, or some highschoolers probably asking people out to prom since the season’s coming up. Relatively simple and easy for Gigi’s skill, but she still can’t get herself to focus. When nothing comes to her, probably from the lack of coffee, she decides not to linger and gets up to check on the displays.

She goes over a checklist in her head for things she could do that’s still considered productive but isn’t at her actual arrangement station. She checks soil moisture in the succulents, watering the drier ones, prunes some of their smaller flowering shrubs that are getting a little bushy, and double checks the temperatures on the floral coolers.

She’s wiping down the leaves on a large monstera in the houseplant section when she smacks herself on the forehead, realizing she’s subconsciously navigated herself towards the front of the store and is now conveniently right beside the front window. Still, she can’t help herself, and tries to peer across the pedestrian street in hopes that at least seeing her today will temporarily get her out of her system.

It’s been a week since Harmonize, the tattoo studio across Wallflower, had filled in their vacancy and signed on their newest artist. The two stores are fairly friendly, when Gigi was hired over a year ago the owner Widow had brought over fresh baked bread to introduce herself, and it was one of their artists Crystal whom Gigi chose to ink the small piece on her rib. In fact, the two grew pretty close and she’s hung out with Crystal as many times as she’s hung out with Jaida who’s her actual coworker, the three of them often grabbing lunch or a drink together if time permits. It was her understanding that even before Gigi had joined the team, all the stores on their little promenade area were relatively familiar with each other. It was a small shopping district, all pedestrian walkways and local establishments, not fairly common anymore with the rise of larger malls. This meant the stores often knew and supported each other for solidarity, and that it wasn’t odd for people from other stores to pop in and introduce themselves.

That being said, it’s been a week since the new girl had started shifts and Gigi still hasn’t worked up the courage to talk to her. She’s only caught glimpses of her, either walking out with Crystal after locking up or stepping out in the middle of the day for a smoke break. Gigi knew of them needing a replacement after Dahlia had moved coasts, but she remembers how when actually seeing her in person for the first time her breath completely hitched in her throat and she had to run to the break room to hide for a bit.

Luckily for Gigi, unluckily for her work still left unattended, the walkways meant not a considerable distance between the two storefronts and she’s immediately able to catch a glimpse of the mystery girl inside leaning against the front desk. She can visibly see her short, slicked back platinum hair looking as pristine as always, and today she’s got on a red lip that looks so, so good. She barely knows anything about her, doesn’t even know her name, but by god would it be a lie to say she isn’t pretty enamoured.

Crystal’s obviously her coworker, but no amount of pleading texts will yield her any information. Jaida’s spoken to her already on her own but also refuses to tell Gigi anything, apparently because she thinks Gigi’s refusal to go alone is funny, other than that she’s French and hotter up close and that her accent was “delicious” which was incredibly not helpful. Gigi contemplates how this accent might sound when instead it’s her boss’s voice that suddenly appears next to her.

“She is pretty hot. I think I have a crush on her too.” Jackie says plainly into Gigi’s ear.

Gigi yelps and jumps again for the second time this morning, this time a lot more embarrassed thanks to being caught by her boss not only clearly slacking off but openly staring at the store opposite. And that she can’t even cover up Jackie knowing exactly why she was staring.

Jackie just laughs good naturedly and shoves an iced coffee into Gigi’s hands, holding another two against her chest.

“I was on the way when Jaida texted me saying she drank yours and to pick you up another one, so I got some for all of us. Something about you needing the caffeine, and I can see why,” she looks out the window to Harmonize, then back at Gigi, “finish those orders first, yeah?” She smiles knowingly at the younger girl, then heads to the back room where Jaida is probably counting stock.

Jesus christ, she was too preoccupied with her own thoughts she didn’t even hear Jackie come in. Their door has a fucking bell and she was standing right beside the front window. Well, nothing like a mountain of work and some fresh iced coffee to shake off a morning of embarrassment.

All things considered, Gigi loves her job. It’s something sacred to her, something guaranteed to ground her, soothing her senses and pulling her into a focused zone like nothing else. She loves the feeling of stems in her hands, watching an empty vase or paper wrap build into a living work of art that tells a story. She was never that big on plants as a whole, Jaida and Jackie tend to cover the succulent houseplant and herb territory better than she ever could, but she’s always had a soft spot for the flowers. She’s built up her craft and made a niche for herself in Wallflower very quickly, there’s nothing more enticing to her than mixing and matching colors, textures, shapes and sizes until her perfectionist ass is satisfied with the outcome. She always jokes that none of her work comes out short of instagram perfect, well worth more than just their price. She’s even taken to studying up on old flower meanings in her spare time, and while she thought they were silly at first she did grow a little attached to the convolutedness and intricacy that goes into working meanings into her arrangements.

She’s got a couple of standard bouquets up first- Wallflower provides a ‘cheat sheet’ of pre-determined arrangements for customers not particularly picky or familiar with what goes into their bouquets. She holds a sunflower in the center of the vase to build upon, surrounding it with a smattering of simple pink and red roses. She fills the shape with baby’s breath and green heather for texture, before filling whatever gaps are left with myrtle sprigs for more greenery.

She goes over the meanings in her head while she ties off and trims the stems and decoratively wraps the arrangement in delicate, pink paper and clear cellophane- adoration, happiness, love, innocence, admiration, love. It’s incredible to her how many flowers basically mean the same thing, but she supposes it’s hard to offer something as beautiful as a flower and not convey some form of affection.

She’s a couple of arrangements in before her phone buzzes in her back pocket, pulling her out of her groove. She wipes her hands down her apron and pulls it out to see a groupchat message from Crystal.

Clown Whore 🤡👅 just got off a client but LMFAO totally saw u staring @ N u aint slick @Gigi Goode

Gigi can’t help but widen her eyes a little and type her reply back a little frantic.

Goode, Gooder, Goodenest Gracious! 🌼 her name starts with N????? Nina? Natalie? Naomi? is Naomi french enough to count as a valid guess?

Clown Whore 🤡👅 LOL u know we aint tellin u its been a week. JUST TALK TO HER U DUMB ASS LESBIAN

Goode, Gooder, Goodenest Gracious! 🌼 :( ya’ll are mean. why are you my friends. Michelle’s for lunch? @Jaida @Crystal

shoulders & attitude (and not much else) 🌵🌵 lol im down

Clown Whore 🤡👅 breaks in 30. come to yall then :))

Gigi takes note of the time and puts her phone down sighing. She loves her friends with all her heart, but they’re also assholes whose favorite hobby is bullying poor Gigi especially when it comes to Gigi’s ability, or lack thereof, to deal with cute girls. Still, she wouldn’t trade the world for them (not that she would ever say that to their faces, she has some pride).

She continues her arrangements, hitting a snag on a particular one that for some reason requested a fairly large centerpiece, “all whites, minimal greenery- romantic but no roses” but at the same time “nothing too funeral-y or wedding-y”. She’s built and torn apart the arrangement around 6 times and is close to ripping her hair out when Jaida materializes in front of her station.

“You good, sis?” she laughs, picking up the order slip to examine herself.

Gigi looks around and realizes her station looks a hot mess, whites and greens strewn haphazardly everywhere. “Yes, you’re looking at my personal funeral. We good to go?”

“Yeah, ‘bout that. Crys texted that she’s gonna take a smoke for a bit and I’m gonna join her, is it alright if you go ahead? We’ll catch up, it’s all on me” Jaida says cheerily, handing Gigi her card.

Gigi raises her eyebrows in suspicion, idly wondering why Crystal didn’t just message their chat, but takes the card anyway. She’s not passing up free lunch. “Sure, the usual for everyone?”

“Yep, see ya in a bit, girl!” Jaida waves brightly, already on her way out the door.

Weird. But Gigi doesn’t think much of it.

The walk over to Michelle’s is short and uneventful, only being about 2 blocks away, but the small local joint is by far their favorite go-to. It’s arguably a diner, complete with the red leather booths and black and white tiled flooring to match, but it’s become a local staple in the district for being so much more than just a diner. They’ve got a wide variety of comfort foods of all types, plus it’s got halal options for Jackie and vegetarian ones for Crystal. Gigi walks in to the sound of the bell above the push glass door and is immediately greeted by not only the rich smells from the kitchen, but the owner Michelle at the counter. A matronly figure with a heart of gold, she’s made sure to know all of the district regulars by name and face and the girls at Harmonize and Wallflower are no exception. It’s a little past lunch rush, lots of people sitting at the booths and the counter but no one in line.

She greets Gigi as she enters and Gigi’s listing off the usuals for everyone, takeout for Widow and Jackie, when a husky voice pipes up from behind her.

“Oh, actually, Jaida said takeout for everyone. And an additional ceaser, s'il vous plaît.”

Gigi whips around, heart leaping out of her chest, and finds N smiling right behind her. Gigi stammers a bit, definitely fumbling for something to say, and tries her best to get her bearings. “Ohmigod, hi! Shit, hi! Gigi, from Wallflower,” she says quickly, nerves evident, “I haven’t met you yet! Oh my god, you’re N-?”

The blonde just laughs politely to cut her off, perhaps to save her from her fumbling. “Nicolette, but please call me Nicky. Crystal sent me over, says her and Jaida can’t make it and to bring everything back?” Nicky smiles wide, and her smile makes Gigi think her heart is stopping a little too many times today.

Gigi crumples a little in realization. Of course Jaida would offer to pay for everything, she wouldn’t bother unless it came alongside personally torturing Gigi for fun. Well, nevertheless, it’s not like Jaida can avoid payback. Gigi asks Michelle to upsize everyone’s drinks but Jaida and Crystal’s and adds an extra side of ice cream to her own. Michelle swipes Jaida’s card, hands Gigi her small cup of ice cream, then lets them know to sit at a booth while they fix up everyone’s orders.

Nicky and Gigi sit at the booth nearest the door, and Gigi’s glad for the cup of ice cream to keep her busy because her brain’s running in circles trying to think of something to say while also subtly trying to finally get a good look at her. As Nicky settles into the seat opposite, turning to lay her purse next to her, Gigi can’t help but eye some design on her arms before it’s covered once more by the long sleeves of her blouse. Her platinum blonde hair’s slicked back into a short length, now she realizes it goes a little past her chin, and her makeup is impeccable, sharp smokey eyes and red lips. She’s even more gorgeous up close, and it does absolutely nothing to settle Gigi’s nerves. Gigi’s hands fidget with her small plastic spoon, and she’s hyper aware of how she’s now looking anywhere but the girl sitting across her. Thankfully, Nicky leads the conversation.

“I am sorry it’s taken us so long to meet, I have been having a little bit of a hard time putting myself out there” she says with a drop to her voice, and Gigi instantly feels guilty.

“No, no it’s my fault! I should’ve gone over, I had the chance I’m just,” Gigi breathes when she realizes she’s sped up again, and Nicky’s looking right at her earnestly, “-pretty bad at meeting new people.” She drops Nicky’s gaze and rubs the back of her neck, staring directly down into her ice cream. She realizes she’s coming on very weirdly, and she feels very hot all of a sudden. Stupid Crystal, stupid Jaida, this is exactly why she can’t be trusted alone with a pretty girl. Either Nicky doesn’t realize or realize exactly, either way Gigi’s glad she doesn’t bring up how awkward Gigi’s acting.

“Well, no matter,” she interrupts Gigi’s thoughts with a smile, “I’m glad to have met you now. I heard you were the one who had done the arrangement Jackie brought me on my first day, thank you, it was quite beautiful.”

Gigi softens. “Oh, it was my pleasure! Again, I’m really sorry I hadn’t come along to meet you sooner.”

Nicky waves her off, “Please, stop apologizing, it’s alright, we were both busy. Let’s move forward now, yeah?” She smiles brightly again, and it eases Gigi’s heart in a way she could not explain, nor does she want to confront any time soon. But for now, this is nice.

Gigi smiles back and opens her mouth to respond, when Nicky’s phone suddenly rings from her purse. Nicky quickly swipes it out to check the screen.

“Oh, one moment, it’s a client, I’m so sorry” she says, standing up and stepping out of the booth. Gigi tells her no worries as Nicky steps out of the diner to take the call.

Gigi uses this opportunity to breathe, at the same time finishing her melting ice cream and checking her own phone. She’s got a string of messages, all from the culprits.

shoulders & attitude (and not much else) 🌵🌵 LOL

Clown Whore 🤡👅 GO GIGI!!!!!!

shoulders & attitude (and not much else) 🌵🌵 USE YOUR WORDS BOO ure killin it!!!

Clown Whore 🤡👅 what did we say about the accent? :))) plus isnt she so nice shes a whole ass sweetheart

shoulders & attitude (and not much else) 🌵🌵 omg ice cream u bitch k we deserve it

Clown Whore 🤡👅 oooo yall look like youre on a date already :))

shoulders & attitude (and not much else) 🌵🌵 wtf who callin? she got a man?

Goode, Gooder, Goodenest Gracious! 🌼 YO WTF FUCK YALL WHAT WAS THAT :((( WARN ME, ASSHOLES? I WASNT READY also are you here?? how do you know???

Clown Whore 🤡👅 michelle’s texting us LMAO

Gigi whips her head up to see Michelle at the counter across the diner, phone in hand, typing away. She meets Gigi’s eyes and sends her a wink, laughing mirthfully.

Goode, Gooder, Goodenest Gracious! 🌼 is my whole life snitches and traitors???

Clown Whore 🤡👅 💖💖

shoulders & attitude (and not much else) 🌵🌵 💛💛💛💛

At this point Michelle comes around to the table and carefully sets down the stacks of takeout containers bundled in two plastic bags, but not without patting Gigi on the back and whispering you got this darling. Gigi just groans in exasperation.

Clearly, everyone has it out for her in this life. But she decides that hey, maybe that’s not so bad. They’re her friends and her friends care and they bully her a little but that’s what friends are for. Care enough to call her out on her stupidity and force her to act. What exactly she’s acting on, she’s not quite sure, but things are certainly happening. And she’s finally met Nicky, who is intimidatingly gorgeous but also kind and nice and she’s happy for that. Sure, she’s extremely attractive, but part of her doesn’t even remember why she was so afraid to talk to her in the first place when her presence now seems to both scare and ease Gigi in a way she really can’t name. And while she may not really understand all that she’s feeling maybe, just maybe, that’s okay too.

Nicky steps back into the diner and turns back to Gigi, eyes bright and smile wide.

“Let’s get back to the shops?” she says cheerily, and sticks out her hand for Gigi to hold.

Gigi takes a deep breath, smiles, and takes it. “Yes, let’s.”

#rpdr fanfiction #gigi goode #nicky doll #gigi x nicky #lesbian au #tattoo artist x florist #cceib series #chaoskatya #s12

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thebiasrekkers · 4 years

Text

Sincerely, Yours - JJK

For the @btswriterscorner - Amor Fabula Launch Project in celebration of the month of Valentine’s Day!

Plot: Jeon Jungkook hails from humble origins, his family ranked as Laborers. Since he is the youngest of three children, his time for the lottery has not come. But when it does, he refuses to conform to society’s system and runs away. Disowned, he’s now become a fugitive, taking on odd jobs here and there as a “runner-for-hire”. What he doesn’t realize is that he will find love in the most unexpected place.

Rating: PG-13 // SFW

Genre: dystopian!au/dystopian themes | angst | romance/fluff

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Female OC (Nikita Meyers)

Warnings: Strong language, vandalism, violence, interracial/intercultural relationship

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 7,607

AN: This is the companion piece to my first story, Touch In The Dark. This is the “rebel” view of what transpires in the world that I built. In all honesty, I think I may like the MYG version a little more, but I think it’s mostly from my love of hurting my own feelings. I still had a lot of fun with this one and I hope you all enjoy it. Writing for Jungkookis is always a good time. All reblogs, critiques/reviews, comments and affection are accepted! Happy reading!

© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

~ j.j. ~

Jungkook swung his legs back and forth as he sat on the edge of a nearby building. He whistled a tune to himself, a song from a life he could barely remember these days. A former Laborer, now turned Runner, Jungkook could say that he left a life that he knew wasn’t meant for him. The Class system was such a bogus way to create order and balance in the world. The Blue Bloods stayed in the upper tier and those born in poverty or with lesser means were meant to work for the rest of their days. Throw in The Lottery Bill and that was just the cherry on top of a fucked up sundae.

A soft breeze pushed against his form as he watched the sky transform into a mesh of warm colors: pinks, purples, oranges and yellows. The sun was starting to set and the world’s light would dim, blanketed by the cobalt sky littered with the few stars he was only allowed to see as he ran from rooftop to rooftop. Running free, no longer tethered to the rules of the world that dared to shackle him to a life of meaninglessness.

His phone vibrated in his pocket. Pulling it out, he scrolled through the messages and noticed the priority one at the very top. Brushing his fingers through his hair, he sighed quietly as he glanced over the message. His newest client was scheduled to meet him in an hour. It was a standard escort job. It wouldn’t be too hard and the pay was decent.

In their society, it was a crime to “fall in love” with anyone. Period. Not even the spouse that was chosen during an individual’s Lottery drawing. Love fueled emotions that often led to the ruins of others. Passion had the potential to overshadow logic and reason. When logic and reason were cast aside, only terrible things happened. Emotions were just bad things and led to bad times.

Jungkook didn’t buy into that horseshit.

It was the main reason he abandoned his station in life and lived in the moment. He didn’t worry about yesterday. He could care less about tomorrow. Today was all that mattered and all that would matter when it was finally said and done.

He slid his thumb over the screen, dialing the number of his new “job” detail. The man answered quickly, interrupting the second ring.

“Is this Jeon Jungkook?”

Jungkook smirked at the hushed tone in the man’s voice. “It is. Is this Min Yoongi?”

“Yes,” he replied softly, as if trying to gauge Jungkook’s own tone, “were you able to secure safe passage for both my wife and me?”

Clambering to his feet, he dusted off the backs of his weathered jeans and knocked a bit of dirt off his boots. “That’s not my area of expertise, I’m afraid. That was taken care of by a different handler.”

He knew he was being a little shit, but sometimes it was all about asking the right questions.

There was a semi-long pause from the other end of the line, followed by a slow sigh of what could be presumed as mounting exasperation.

“So why was I directed to you?”

Jungkook’s grin grew a little wider. “Because I’m the one who’s going to get you out in one piece.”

“I see,” Yoongi said, as if he was mulling over something, “so you’re a Runner.”

It wasn’t a question.

“That’s right.”

“I just hope you’re as fast as that mouth of yours.”

He couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him. “I’m faster, trust me.” Pushing back the sleeve of his jacket, he spied the time. “I’ll meet you at the Square in half an hour. Don’t be late.”

And without waiting for a reply, Jungkook ended the call. Pulling out his earbuds, he connected the jack to the phone and slipped the buds on. It didn’t take him long to find the song he wanted, cranking up the volume as the intro crescendoed slowly. Inhaling lungfuls of air, he stretched his arms out wide and then raised them up so they were parallel with his head. Once he loosened up the muscles, he rolled his neck and hopped up and down - shaking his arms for good measure.

He always had to psyche himself up for things like this.

As soon as the balls of his feet hit the ground, Jungkook lunged forward. Up and over the edge of the roof. The world rushed by him in a blur of motion, his dark hair flying off his forehead. The night was cool, but the wind stung his eyes - making them water. He quickly wiped at them, curling his body inward and then extending his limbs. The concrete scraped at the pads of his fingers, but it didn’t take him long to realign his body, forcing his lower half to swing off to the side so that he could catch the railing of the fire escape.

The bars rattled violently when his heels planted themselves onto the platform, but he was already climbing up the bars to reach the next rooftop. Once Jungkook made it over the edge, his legs pumped the ground in tandem with his heavily beating heart.

Unconsciously, his mouth spread into a wide open smile.

Free-running. They couldn’t have called it something better if they tried.

Sweat broke out across his brow and the pulse of the song’s bass seemed to reverberate throughout his entire body. With every jump, lunge, catch and pull he performed, Jungkook’s elation only seemed to climb. It would be too soon if he could never run as free as he was now.

Heaving and halfway covered in perspiration, Jungkook arrived at the designated meeting spot within fifteen minutes. It gave him just enough time to grab a bottle of water from a nearby vending machine, emptying half the contents over his head and soaking his hair. Onlookers peered at him curiously, but he didn’t pay them any attention. He almost never did. He drained what was left in the bottle, savoring the feeling of re-hydrating himself.

Craning his neck, he located a nearby waste bin and was about to toss the bottle into it - arms stretched like he was shooting a basketball into a hoop.

He stumbled forward suddenly, his body pushed forward from an unexpected impact. Grunting, he quickly pivoted on his heels to see who was responsible, but all he caught sight of was a ball cap flying in his line of sight as auburn curls flew past him. Jungkook reached out and snatched the hat out of the air as the owner turned to catch a glimpse of him.

Her dark gray eyes glared at him, catching Jungkook off guard. Despite living in South Korea, Jungkook was used to foreigners. But he certainly didn’t remember seeing someone with those eyes and soft caramel skin. Her hair looked dyed, but it strangely suited her.

Jungkook took a step forward, holding her hat out to her. Instead of taking it back, she continued to shift her gaze from him and then to the hat. He grinned.

“Not even a thank you, huh? You don’t want this back?” He waved the cap back and forth, as though he were trying to keep a cat’s attention on him. “Is this mine now?”

He hadn’t seen her move. In fact, he didn’t even realize she’d closed what small distance existed between them. Not until Jungkook felt a soft burst of pain near his stomach. The wind was knocked from him almost immediately and all he could manage was a wide-eyed stare at her.

She grinned, twisting her fist into his stomach a little more. “Not a chance, you fucking tool,” replied the girl.

Jungkook collapsed to one knee when she took a step back, her hat not back in her possession. He struggled to reclaim what air was stolen from him, one dark brown eye glaring up at her. Not to say that women were weak, but he hadn’t expected a punch from a pretty girl to hurt this much.

Hopping back on one foot, she waved the hat at him in a farewell gesture before sliding it back onto her head. She turned and bolted from the square without so much as a second glance at him. He coughed, rubbing at his chest in an attempt to regulate his breathing again.

Wow, what a bitch, he thought, but Jungkook found himself smirking once the pain subsided.

Maybe he was a glutton for punishment.

“Are you alright?”

The voice jarred him from his thoughts and he quickly scrambled to his feet. He was face to face with his temporary charge, Min Yoongi. Standing beside him was a woman with dark brown curls, hazel eyes, and mocha skin. She peered at Jungkook curiously, her hand laced through Yoongi’s. She was also a foreigner from what he could tell, and well-known through the news as the “Charity Selection” picked from The Lottery two years ago.

He folded his arms across his chest. “This might be a little difficult.”

Yoongi lofted a brow. “And why is that?”

“Well,” Jungkook began, taking a few steps toward them before circling around both of them, “your wife’s kinda popular.”

The older man narrowed his eyes. “So you’re not going to be able to help us?”

“I didn’t say that.” He held a hand up and then waved it through the air, as if shooing away a gnat. “I just said that it’ll be a little difficult. Not impossible.” Jungkook met their gazes and grinned. “I got this. Trust me.”

~ n.m. ~

“Nikita, that was reckless.”

Removing the baseball cap, she roughly ran her fingers through her curls while scoffing. She carelessly tossed the parcel onto the table. “What does it matter? I got you what you asked for.”

The man seated at the table steepled his fingers, dark eyes peering over his knuckles at her. Nikita waited for him to say something, but he merely sighed and began to untie the twine wrapped around the brown paper packaging. It was his way of dismissing her, but letting Nikita know that she wasn’t completely off the hook. He’d find a way to pay her back and it wouldn’t be pretty.

She knew this because it wouldn’t be the first time.

Not wanting to press her luck, Nikita quickly vacated the office and closed the door behind her. She rested her shoulder against the door frame, mentally kicking herself for what she’d said. She knew she didn’t mean it, and yet she continued to come off as cold and unfeeling in these situations. Nikita was about to slam her head into the door when someone suddenly cleared their throat beside her.

“Keep it up and you’re going to put Minjae Hyung into an early grave.”

Craning her neck, she cut her eyes at the shaggy-haired individual - his shit-eating grin never failing to irritate her.

“Shut-up, Taegi-ah,” she snipped, walking past him. Predictably, he followed but Nikita ignored him, focusing her attention on the warehouse.

“Aw, don’t be like that, Nikki-ah,” he whined at her back.

She rolled her eyes. Nikita hated that nickname and he knew it. She also knew that he didn’t care that she hated it.

Because that was the kind of person Yoon Taegi was.

A pain in her goddamn ass.

But she couldn’t hold it against him. Because he was the one who helped her break the chains the world decided to put on her the day she was born. Without him, she knew she would still be living the life of a woefully ignorant aristocrat - blind to the truth of society’s agenda. Nikita lived in a castle made of glass and didn’t understand her purpose outside of being a breeding agent for some future husband she would never be able to relate to.

When the day came for her to be matched with her significant other, Nikita was ready to accept that lot in her life. She was prepared to walk down the path that she was groomed for. What reason did she have to believe otherwise; to be aware that there was something else beyond the veil?

The truth wasn’t known to her until she saw a couple being arrested on the streets - cuffed and pulled away from each other. They screamed until their throats were raw, and then continued yelling for each other. They managed to share one final kiss until each were thrown into separate police cars and driven away to be incarcerated.

Their fates were declared on international television.

Taegi was the man she’d seen carted away and three months later, he broke out of prison. As punishment, the woman he loved was put to death. It was their attempt to shatter his spirit, to break him.

They failed.

Sighing, she looked at Taegi’s smug expression and couldn’t help marveling at how far they’d come. A loaf of bread, cheese and meat was all it took to barter for the truth. Taegi gave it to her and Nikita knew she could never go back to her life of privilege. Not if there were people she could help in the process. It didn’t take her long to find herself pulled into Rebel circles - all of them graciously accepting her into their fold.

hree years passed since then and Nikita didn’t regret leaving her family or her “duty” behind. She was free and she was fighting for a cause that meant something. Even if she’d never experienced it for herself.

Love.

Sliding the metal door aside, Nikita stepped into the warehouse. The smell of gunpowder and kerosene instantly filled her nostrils - causing her eyes to water slightly. She quickly wiped at them and sniffed, fishing through a crate on a nearby table. Her hands stilled momentarily as she felt Taegi’s palms slip over her shoulders. He squeezed them gently and she sighed, hanging her head a measure as her eyes stared into the box of homemade pipe bombs and hand grenades.

“Sometimes I worry that the fighting is never going to end,” Nikita said softly.

Taegi rubbed her shoulders in a comforting motion before moving away from her to lean against the table. He folded his arms across his chest, his face lifting to the ceiling. “It’ll stop one day. We just have to stand strong and in solidarity.”

Nikita shrugged, pulling out a few pipe bombs. “I just hope we’re around long enough to see it.”

She checked the fuses, gauging their length, before placing them back in the box. She set one hand grenade out, flicking a finger over the pull pin. After making sure that it was secure, she dropped it into her messenger bag and moved to the next crate. It contained knives of varying shapes and sizes. She opted for a switchblade of decent length, slipping it into her back pocket.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. Pulling it out, she scanned the message on her screen. It was from Minjae, as expected. He was sending her on another assignment. There was another potential ally they could have on their side versus running amok on the streets.

Turning to move to another table, she felt Taegi’s hand grasping at her arm. She looked at him and saw the worry lines etched across his forehead. Nikita couldn’t help but smile at him.

“You just got back and you’re already prepping to head out again.” He frowned. “You’re like a machine, woman.”

“Can’t help it,” she said, chuckling slightly, “I’m not one to sit around and do nothing.”

“It’s not about doing nothing. It’s about resting. You’ve been gone for three days.” Taegi sighed, releasing his hold on her. “Hyung can’t pass this off to someone else?”

“Nope.” Nikita shook her head. “Recruitment’s my main gig. You know this. Besides…” She paused, meeting Taegi’s gaze, her own expression softening a bit. “...if we don’t have more people on our side, what good is any of this? It’s never going to stop until every last one of us are either dead or re-educated. Numbers mean everything.”

Looking back at the phone, she opened the file Minjae sent her. It was the most current dossier on a person willingly living off the grid. They had been for some time now.

She recognized his picture immediately. He was the guy she’d run into earlier that day. The same guy she punched in the gut for teasing her when she was in the process of playing “courier” for their group.

Nikita couldn’t help the bark of laughter that escaped her. Taegi looked at her curiously but she shook her head, slipping her phone back into her pocket. This was going to be interesting. Maybe he’d hear her out despite the terrible first impression she’d given.

My job just got a little bit harder. Great.

~ j.j. ~

Jungkook lazily sprawled himself out on the largest branch of an old tree near the edge of town. Swiveling a toothpick between his teeth, he looked around at the people who passed below him obliviously. It amused him, in a way, how they could mindlessly continue with their lives. They were like sheep to the slaughter, unaware of the truth of things.

Then again, he didn’t really know what the “truth” was himself.

All that mattered to him was no longer having a label stamped on his body as though it were a badge of shame. Society deemed that he was destined to be poor. Society claimed that his ideal match would be someone of their choosing. Society was right and the average person didn’t need to question this.

Well, society could go eat a bag of dicks.

Again, his phone buzzed. He picked it up from where he had it laying on his chest to stare at it - the screen illuminating his face in the shadows. It was another job forwarded by his employer. Sighing, he opened up the dossier of the person he was sent to help this time. When he saw the picture, however, Jungkook sat up so fast that he nearly fell out of the tree.

It was her. The woman who nailed him in the gut without batting an eyelash. The woman whose dark auburn curls and gray eyes failed to vacate his mind.

He was immediately suspicious.

Normally he would forward a job he didn’t want to another Runner. It wasn’t like Jungkook was hurting for money. In fact, he was planning on taking a small vacation soon - taking himself off the grid completely for a few weeks before coming back. But his curiosity was a damning thing and he didn’t mind being damned if it meant knowing who this woman was.

Nikita Meyers. 25. Former Blue Blood. Currently wanted by authorities due to her association with various Rebel factions throughout the world.

Blinking, he read through the short blurb again to make sure that he wasn’t misinterpreting anything. But what was there to misinterpret? This woman had it all and threw everything away to be a fugitive? Like him? He didn’t get it. Wasn’t the high life a life of pleasure and carefree days?

Why would she ever want to toss it away for the gritty life?

Jungkook frowned, thinking back on the life he left behind. He refused to conform to society’s whims and ran away from home when it was time for him to have his partner chosen through The Lottery Bill. He didn’t know what love was and he wasn’t sure if he wanted any part of it if the government was hell-bent on minimizing it throughout the globe. Jungkook could admit that he did stupid things when he was emotionally unstable, hence why he was living the life he currently was in the first place. But he also wasn’t too keen on the idea of bending to the whims of others.

Even so…

Sliding his thumb over the screen, he dialed the number his contact provided for him. It rang three times before someone answered. Her voice filled his ears and he leaned his back against the trunk of the tree as he listened.

“Jungkook-ssi?”

He smirked. “Oh, are we using polite words now?”

He heard a sigh from the other line. “I won’t apologize for what I did. I had my reasons.”

“Sure you did.” His tone dripped of sarcasm, but Jungkook felt his smile growing wider. “It’s alright. I forgive you anyway.”

“You’re so gracious. So, are you gonna help me or are you gonna pass me off so I’m someone else’s problem?”

His lips formed into a small ‘O’ while he scratched the side of his nose. “Is that normal for you?”

Nikita scoffed. “I don’t make it a habit to become a problem for anyone in the first place.”

“That’s a shame,” he replied while shifting his position to stand on the tree branch, “it’s fun to be problematic.”

“I’m sure you’d know that.”

“Of course. That's why I said it.”

“Are you going to help me or not?”

Jungkook was going to help her. He’d made that decision the minute he saw her picture on his phone as the next job he was supposed to take. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to have fun with her about it.

“Well, you’re in luck. I happen to have some free time slotted in my schedule.”

“Good. Now come down from that tree and meet me face-to-face.”

His smile fell from his face and he sat up again, looking around in every direction. He quickly craned his neck down and saw she was standing below the tree he was currently perched in. For a long moment, the two of them just stared at each other - each of them holding their phones to their faces; listening to the other person breathing.

Then he saw her smile up at him. It was a smile that clearly said that she knew more than he did; that she’d gotten the best of him. A smile full of secrets, daring someone to try to discover them.

It was a smile that made his heart twist sharply in his chest.

Hanging up the phone, he slid it into the inner pocket of his leather jacket. Without batting an eyelash, Jungkook effortlessly hopped off the tree branch, landing with an unnecessary flourish in front of her. Nikita slid her phone into her pocket as he slid his palms over the thighs of his jeans.

Again, neither said anything. They just took in each other’s presence.

Now that he got a better look at her, Jungkook was at least half a head taller than her. The strap to a dark gray messenger bag was pressed across her chest at an angle, enhancing the swell of her bosom. Other than that, there was nothing else about her that would elicit inappropriate thoughts. No skin showed outside of her bare neck, face, and thin wrists peeking out from the sleeves of her dark green field jacket. She wore charcoal gray cargo pants stuffed into a pair of shin length combat boots. A black newsboy hat adorned the top of her head this time.

“So,” Jungkook said, finally breaking the silence, “where am I escorting the lovely lady?”

“We’re too exposed here.” Nikita moved past him and he pivoted on his heels to follow after her.

They were heading back into the city.

Just as he was about to suggest they could go somewhere a little more private to chat, she hopped onto a nearby dumpster and scaled up the fire escape as easily as snapping her fingers. Jungkook slowly arched his neck, watching her fling herself up one iron landing until her body swung in a half arc to allow her the reach she needed to grasp onto the edge of the building’s rooftop. Her booted feet scraped over the brick, crumbling small bits to the ground until she disappeared over the edge.

“Well, I’ll be goddamned,” he mumbled, his smile returning. This woman was just full of surprises.

“Are you comin’ or not?” she called down to him.

Not like he needed to be asked twice. Jungkook made a game of it, determined to scale the building in half the amount of time she had. Once he reached the top, he pulled himself over the edge in time to see her running at full speed across the building.

“Hey!” he shouted after her, his own legs eating at the ground in hot pursuit, “Wait a minute!”

But just as he was starting to close the distance, Nikita jumped from the building and curled her body inward. Jungkook was almost to the edge and was preparing his own dismount when he saw her successfully clear the gap. She grabbed onto one of the metal pipes and swung herself into an open window. Jungkook didn’t have a chance to relish in the adrenaline pumping through his veins, his eyes memorizing her movement patterns so he could follow the trail she was leaving for him.

Dust filled his nostrils, causing him to cough from the onslaught to his senses. The room smelled of old wood and mold. The building had long since been abandoned and there was clearly no interest in changing its state of disrepair. The boards creaked under each step that was taken and Jungkook mentally worried if the floor would crack and collapse right beneath him.

A beam of bright light blinded him and he hissed, moving his forearm to cover his eyes.

“Yo, what’s the deal?!”

His words sounded snappish, which hadn’t been his intention, but what did anyone expect when suddenly rendered unable to see?

“Sorry,” Nikita said, lowering the light to give him a chance to adjust to the darkness, “I wanted to make sure you were right behind me.”

Jungkook rubbed his fists into his eyes gingerly, shaking his head to blink the golden spots away from his vision. “It’s fine.”

She gestured with the flashlight toward the stairs. “Follow me. And watch your step.”

Everything in the building seemed ancient and forgotten. Jungkook swore he heard it groan in response to their presence there. It gave him an eerie sort of vibe that he wasn’t sure he wanted to really wrap his head around.

Once they reached the ground floor, Nikita disappeared through a door to the right. It looked like an office building of some kind now that he got a better look at it. He could hear her roughly pulling at drawers from what he assumed were old metal filing cabinets. Jungkook took a lean against the door frame, folding his arms across his chest as more dust flew in the air from Nikita’s manic investigation methods.

“Need any help?”

She slammed a drawer closed and yanked at another one, fingers dancing over the folders. “I’m good.”

He shrugged, even though he knew she couldn’t see it. “So what is this place?”

“Used to be a Public Records office until everything became digitized and moved to the various data hubs all over the globe.”

“And now?”

Nikita pulled out a folder and sifted through the papers inside. “Now it’s a place for squatters and a go-between for Rebel units.”

Jungkook hummed in understanding. But something puzzled him.

“So why are we here?”

Turning to face him, she waved the envelope at him. “Gathering intel for another client.”

“Wait.” He stepped inside the room. “This isn’t an escort job, but a recon mission?”

Nikita grinned, shutting the drawer closed with her hip. “Yup.”

He frowned. “Then why was I hired for this? You do know that I’m a Runner, right?”

“I know.” She stuffed the envelope into her bag, using the beam of her flashlight to rifle through whatever contents were also inside. “I know exactly who you are, Jeon Jungkook.”

Jungkook didn’t know why, but he didn’t like what she was insinuating with those words.

Nikita pulled something else from her bag, but it was too dark for him to see. Using her other hand to secure the bag’s clasp, she stepped toward the window and slid it open. Jungkook watched her poking her head out, presumably to see if anyone else was coming. It was dark and most people had normal work schedules so there wasn’t a chance for anyone to be out after midnight.

Well, except for them.

“It’s a waste.”

“What?” Jungkook slightly tilted his head, confused. “What is?”

“You left everything behind the same time I did, but all you’ve done is float through life without a care in the world.” She glanced at him from over her shoulder. “It’s a waste.”

Rolling his eyes, he frowned. “What the hell do you know?”

He didn’t appreciate her judgmental attitude toward him. It wasn’t like she knew him. It wasn’t like she understood what he’d gone through up until that point. Living off the grid wasn’t easy and it wasn’t for everyone. Sure, he could have gone back home and ponied up. He could have turned to those fighting against society’s rules and regulations, seeing refuge from a dying world. But he wasn’t about to let himself become dependent on anyone. Being dependent on others equated to marginalized freedom and Jungkook didn’t want that either.

Even if it he had to remain alone to maintain it.

“I know you’re a Runner,” she said, flashing a shit-eating grin at him, “so I suggest you do what you’re good at. Running.”

Jungkook wasn’t sure what she was getting at. But before he could question her further, something fell to the ground. It rolled across the floor and into the sliver of light that leaked in through the window from the streetlamp outside.

It was a hand grenade.

“ARE YOU CRAZY?!” Jungkook barely heard his own voice through the panic cadence of his heartbeat.

Nikita reached out to grab his hand, pulling him toward her. “RUN!”

They both tumbled out the window, rolling onto the grass in a tangle of limbs. They dislodged themselves from each other, frantically scrambling to their feet as they hurried to put as much distance between them and the building as possible. The heat from the explosion pressed against Jungkook’s back, forcing his body to lurch forward. Something cut the side of his face and he grunted as his shoulder collided with the concrete. He thought he heard someone calling him, but it was hard to make out from the soft ringing in his ears and the alarms going off.

“Shit,” he muttered as he sat up on all fours, shaking his head back and forth to chase away his rattled nerves.

Someone grabbed roughly at his jacket, yanking him up to his feet. His face was inches from Nikita’s, her stormy eyes reflecting the fire and smoke eating away at the building behind him.

“Come on,” she said, her hand reaching out to grasp his, “we have to go!”

He didn’t have time to yell at her. He simply followed her direction. Besides, he knew better than anyone that he couldn’t just walk away from this. Jungkook was an accomplice - willingness be damned.

He was a Rebel now.

~ n.m. ~

She’d be lying if she hadn’t planned it out that way. Nikita never had any intention of outright asking Jungkook if he would join their cause. Instead, she chose to be a dirty bitch about it - forcing his hand and leaving him no other option but to stand at their side. The Rebels weren’t necessarily losing, but they weren’t winning, either. The more skilled people they had on their side, people like Jungkook, the more likely they would win against society’s preconceived notion of what “success” and “happiness” was.

Nikita did it because she knew that they had to have him. That she had to have him. She didn’t feel guilty about taking him away from the life he’d chosen for himself.

A month later, however, the guilt started rearing its ugly little head. Usually in the dead of night; when the urge to smoke overtook her. She puffed on a cigarette, her thoughts swirling around in her head like a busted washing machine in desperate need of repair. Minjae told her that she didn’t need to tell him the truth about that day; what her intention was. She normally never questioned Minjae or his motives.

Now? Another month passed. She wasn’t so sure anymore..

A strong gust of wind pushed up against her body, causing her to take a half a step forward. The wind was always powerful the higher a person was. But the rooftop of their hideout was the only place she could find any solace. More and more people were joining their cause, but more people meant less space. Maybe it was the former high-privileged snob in her, but she liked being able to have a little breathing room in her life.

“Oh, I didn’t realize you were here,” a voice said from behind her.

She turned to glance over her shoulder, seeing that it was Jungkook. Her brows furrowed, a soft ache building at the center of her chest. But she didn’t say anything. He took a step back, his hand reaching behind him so he could push the door back open.

Nikita exhaled a thin stream of smoke, tapping the ash off the side of the building. “Stay if you want.” She shifted her gaze back to look at the twilight sky. “You don’t have to leave.”

The door closed, but the sound of feet shuffling closer toward her caused her to release a silent breath of relief. She didn’t want the awkward feeling to continue between them, and in the last month Jungkook proved himself useful. He never demanded to leave, because the people around him wanted him to stay. It made Nikita wonder if he’d never felt a sense of community before now; if he’d always been alone.

She was decent enough not to ask.

“No assignments. That’s rare.” He said it so easily, like he’d been a Rebel for years.

Shrugging, she lifted the cigarette to her lips. “Can’t be busy all the time. Batteries need charging and all that shit.”

He chuckled, sidling up beside her but giving her at least three feet of space. Nikita cast him a sidelong glance, watching him lean against the railing with his forearms.

“Yeah, I guess.”

Jungkook reached into his pocket and pulled out a toothpick. She raised a brow, unable to force back the smirk forming on her face. It was a habit she’d never understand, but it strangely suited him. She shook her head as he clamped his teeth over the twig, making it swivel back and forth with his tongue.

“What about you?”

He shook his head. “Nah. I’m heading out in two days.”

Nikita wouldn’t ask him where. It was better if she didn’t know. The less she knew, the less likely Jungkook would be compromised should something happen while he was away.

For a while, neither of them said anything. She finished her smoke, tossing the cigarette butt off the edge. Jungkook was focused on the starry night sky, so she knew he didn’t notice her looking at him. His hair shifted in back and forth motions from another gust of wind. He looked so lost in thought, yet completely relaxed.

Anything could happen between now and tomorrow. Jungkook could turn his back on them and possibly reveal everything he’d learned to the authorities. Or he could just get captured or killed. There were no guarantees in the world they were both fighting against and fighting for.

“I’m sorry,” Nikita said, surprised at herself with how suddenly the words came tumbling out.

“Huh?” Jungkook straightened up to his full height, flashing her a confused look. “What for?”

“I put us in that situation back then so that you’d have no choice but to come with us.”

He appeared to not understand what she was getting at. Was he really so gullible? Or was he just that innocent? How had the world not broken him?!

Nikita closed her eyes tightly, biting her lower lip that was already beginning to tremble. “I purposefully set you up. I forced you to become a Rebel.”

She couldn’t see him, much to her relief. But the sound of her heart hammering roughly against her ribs drowned out the sounds of the city. If he was saying anything at that moment, Nikita was confident she wouldn’t have heard him.

“I know.”

Those two words pierced through her loudly pounding heartbeat. Opening her eyes wide, she jerked her head to face him. He was closer to her now, but still wearing that gentle expression. The one of someone who understood something that she hadn’t been able to glean. The kind of expression that told volumes about a person’s life.

About the pain they were forced to endure.

“I know you did. And that’s okay.”

She blinked up at him, gobsmacked by his words. “Wh-What?”

How could he say that it was okay? What part of what she said was okay? As far as Nikita was concerned, none of this was okay!

“Because it was only after being here, I realized why you did. To me, that’s all that matters.”

Nikita’s brows furrowed in disbelief. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. It was like she’d lost the ability to speak or even formulate coherent phrases.

He continued.

“I’m a Runner. You said it yourself, running is what I’m good at. People only ever needed me to run for them. Nothing more. Nothing less.”

She watched him take a step toward her.

~ j.j. ~

Nikita looked like a deer caught in headlights.

Jungkook felt a strange sensation in the pit of his stomach; like something was fluttering inside of it. He wondered if he looked the same. If he had that same expression on his own face. Jungkook hoped he didn’t, but he felt weirdly calm. He couldn’t quite place why, other than he believed everything he was saying at that moment.

And he believed that Nikita would hear him; truly hear him.

Because for damn near two months, Jungkook couldn’t get Nikita out of his mind.

“My family didn’t care about me running away from my responsibilities. If they did, they would be looking for me now.”

He took another step forward, his eyes flicking downward to see if Nikita was going to take a step back. She didn’t, and that strange feeling in his stomach intensified.

“My two siblings are making up for my shortcomings. They’re happy and so I kept running. Here. There. Everywhere. It never mattered where I was or how long I was gone. Because running is what I do.”

Nikita looked like she was really listening to him. He knew it because of how focused her eyes were; shaking.

“J-Jungkook,” she stammered.

He knew he should take a step back. Reassess things and think about just what the hell was tumbling from his mouth. It wasn’t like he’d planned this and he hadn’t expected for her to apologize for making him a sucker. One day was all he needed to figure it out. After the initial internal battle he had with himself died down, Jungkook was planning to get the hell out of that place. He would play nice and then bounce. Simple as that.

But one day turned into one week. Then two. Then three.

Until a month passed by.

He realized it hadn’t bothered him as much as he initially thought. Because in that short amount of time, he saw Nikita in ways that he was sure she didn’t realize was being showcased. Jungkook discovered every nuance about her as their paths crossed every single day. From the way she preferred hats with bills than beanies, to how she would scratch at the bridge of her nose when she was annoyed. She preferred dogs over cats, but had a special kind of love for horses. She liked dark liquors and she hated beer. Nikita hated mornings, but she would always get up early to see the sunrise before going back to sleep.

And she was one helluva free runner.

Taking one more step forward, there was now less than a foot of space between Nikita and him. Again, he looked down to see if she would step back. And again, she didn’t.

“For the first time in a while, no one wants me running anymore. And when I have to run, I know I have a place to run back to. Because there are people waiting for me.”

He reached out to grasp her wrists, feeling her pulse jumping with life beneath his palms. For a split second, he suddenly felt self-conscious that his hands might be cold, clammy, or all of the above. But Jungkook selfishly refused to let go. He would apologize later for it if she shoved him aside.

Or off the building.

He waited - the soft clouds of breath meeting hers as she breathed out in sync with him. Nikita didn’t move or was thinking about what to do at that moment. Jungkook knew he needed to hurry and say what was churning inside of him.

What he’d been wanting to say for almost a week now.

“Because people like you are waiting for me.”

His hands moved from her wrists, slowly gliding up her arms until his palms slid over the delicate curve of her shoulders. Jungkook even knew how strong she was under all the bulky clothes she wore. It was how people kept underestimating her. It was how she survived.

But even under that strength was a gentle and compassionate woman. A woman who cared about the people around her. A woman who decidedly left her comfortable entitlement to help anyone suffering under the injustice of the world’s system. A woman who cried in mourning for those who could not be with the ones they loved.

Jungkook’s hands cupped her neck, using his thumbs to stroke over Nikita’s jawline. He gently pressed them to her chin, lifting her face to his. He could see the tears forming in her eyes and he paused, feeling his own hands trembling. Could he afford to hesitate? Could he really let this moment pass by, only to fade away into the darkness where it would never return to see the light of day?

He had to keep trusting her. Trust that she would keep listening.

“Jungkook, what are you--?”

“I love you.”

Jungkook felt like his insides were going to fall straight out of him. He said it. His nerves felt liquefied, but he said it.

“W-What?”

“I love you, Nikita.”

Not wanting her to push him away, he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. He felt her gasp in his mouth and he waited for her to retaliate. To kick and scream and threaten to toss him over the side to his death. He would have deserved it. His death would be justified.

But Nikita didn’t shove him to the side. No. And he lifted his lips from hers when he felt her hands cupping his elbows. What tears were in her eyes spilled down her cheeks. Jungkook saw her brows furrow, but there was a watery smile now on her face.

And then he kissed her again, harder. His hands left her face so he could wrap his arms around her, fully pulling her up against him. He needed her close. Closer than he’d ever been able to get to her. The need was terrible and he didn’t want to chase it away. He sucked in air through his nose, drinking in the subtle smell of her shampoo. Nipping and tugging at her lips between his teeth and tongue, he relished the soft taste of ash from the cigarette she smoked earlier. But there was a hint of peppermint. Nikita always ate a peppermint before smoking because she despised the taste.

Jungkook would continue his mission of getting her to quit.

They parted the kiss long enough to get air. He could just barely see her through the clouds of their breaths. Even in the dark, her eyes seemed to glow. He loved how Nikita always looked like she could see right through him.

“I fell in love with you. I don’t know how. I don’t know why.” He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against hers as their noses touched. “I just did. I just do.”

Turning to bury his nose into the curve of Nikita’s neck, he smiled against her skin.

“It’s okay if you don’t right now. We have as much time as we need to figure it out. Until then, just let me keep loving you as you are now. As I am now.”

Her body shook with how roughly she was nodding her head. Jungkook pressed his fingers against the back of her neck as he held her aloft. And for awhile, that’s all they did. Hugged each other. He could feel how hard their hearts were hammering against each other. All the anxiety and hesitation felt like it was bleeding out of him.

Nikita laughed a little. “Damn,” she whispered.

Jungkook smirked. “What?”

“Guess this means I love you too.”

They shared a laugh. He leaned forward to pull her into a hug. Jungkook appreciated how good it felt to know her arms were around him. It may have been a selfish beginning, but it wouldn’t be a selfish end.

He knew things would get harder from now on. But that was okay. Because the hole in his heart was full.

Because he loved this woman in his arms.

43 notes · View notes

retrocelly · 5 years

Text

Crash (Brock Boeser)

Requested: yep!

Warning: a car crash, some minor injuries, and a severe lack of knowledge about medical stuff

It took 45 minutes for Brock to get home after you saw the photos. Well, after your friend texted you “look at Brock’s most recent tagged pic. I can cut his balls off if you want.” You tapped quickly over to his Instagram, swiping to his tagged and clicking on the newest one. It was a picture of him with a fan - which shouldn’t have raised any red flags. But then you noticed his hand latched around her waist, his fingers against her bare midriff and your cheeks grew hot. Calm down, you told yourself, it’s just a photo with a fan; Brock probably didn’t even realize. Then you swiped. You swiped and saw a much more candid picture: your boyfriend’s arm still around the girl’s waist, but he was leaned back a bit more and they were looking at each other - laughing. The photo closely resembled the one you had as your phone background and now your heart was beating out of your chest. The caption read “got to meet my favorite player today. thanks for being such a gentleman ;) good luck tonight” And that was all it took for your understanding to boil over.

Taking a photo or two with a fan wasn’t what you cared about. In fact, you’d always encouraged Brock to pose for more pictures. You drew the line at him standing too closely, his arm too comfortable around another woman’s waist, her caption too reminiscent of an inside joke that you weren’t in on. It didn’t help that the girl was gorgeous; with perfectly done beachy-curls in her hair and a button-nose that looked like it was sculpted by Bella Hadid’s surgeon. You even found yourself feeling jealous of the ab definition that was noticeable when the girl laughed.

You stared at the photos for 45 minutes. Read all of the comments from the girl’s friends about how gorgeous she looked and even one about how she and Brock would make a cute couple. For 45 minutes, you felt sick to your stomach as you let your anger stew. For 45 minutes, you tried to justify each aspect of the photos only to grow more confused by them. For 45 minutes, you debated calling Brock and asking about them. But you didn’t. And after 45 minutes of sitting alone in your own frustration, you had lost all of your patience.

He’d walked into the condo in with a smile on his face, presumably from a good lunch out with Bo, but your jealousy was trying to convince you that it was because of his new friend. Brock’s face fell when he noticed your posture: arms crossed and lips pursed, glaring in his direction. He’d given you a nod, the kind that meant “tell me what I did wrong.” You didn’t need to speak - simply handing over your phone and allowing him to see the post. Brock let out a light scoff with a shake of his head as he slid your phone onto the coffee table.

“That’s what you’re upset about?” He asked, kneeling down so you were eye-level.

When you didn’t respond, Brock had his answer. He told you that the photos didn’t mean anything - that he couldn’t even remember the girl’s name. He assured you that he hadn’t intended for them to appear so intimate and that if he’d realized how couple-y they would turn out, he would’ve never even taken the pictures in the first place. But that made you even more mad, and so now you were in a screaming match with your boyfriend about why he decided to put his arm around her waist and whether or not he found her attractive.

The anger had brought out your insecurities and, although you were ashamed of it, you couldn’t help the nagging sensation that he did look good with the girl - that they did look like a couple.

It was 15 minutes later when Brock stormed out - muttering about how he needed to get to the rink for the game. You could tell that he was upset by your implication. Brock was, above anything else, a loyal friend and partner. He would never consider cheating on you - not even when he was piss-drunk. You knew that he was hurt by what you’d said, but it was the weaker part of yourself that fueled the argument in the first place. The insecure, paranoid part of yourself that knew Brock deserved better. The part of yourself that worried he would find better and that when he did, you’d be nothing but a memory to him.

Immediately after he’d left, your anger dissipated and regret set in. You had overreacted to say the least, fueled by your own mind and it’s tendency to speculate. Not even an hour later, your phone buzzed from the coffee table. You picked it up, tears immediately filling your eyes at the notification. Brock had texted you, in typical Brock fashion, “I hope you know I’d never do anything to hurt you. I’m sorry. I hope I’ll see you at the game tonight, love you.”

Your heart broke at the message, the feeling of regret multiplying ten times over and settling in the pit of your stomach. You knew that you had to apologize to your boyfriend, and you had to do it as soon as possible. You figured if you left now, you’d be able to make it to the arena in enough time to talk to Brock before the second period started. So, you quickly ran to your room, throwing on your lucky Boeser jersey (a green one - with his old team name and the number 16 on it) and headed out the door.

As you got into your car, you were buzzing. You could hear your heartbeat loudly in your ears and your hands were shaking slightly. Your driving had never been perfect, but it was even worse now. You consistently sped down the familiar route to the arena, even running a stop sign in your haste. You were nearing your destination, your foot easing off of the gas as your breathing settled slightly. But then, just as you were pulling through the final intersection, you heard the screeching of rubber against road, and then the scraping and crashing of metal. You could feel your car slam sideways, and then onto its side as the large truck collided with you.

•••

Brock came off the ice from his first shift of the second, getting ready to settle on the bench when his coach called him over. He knew that he’d been playing poorly, with his mind still on you and the fight you’d had, but he didn’t think that it was bad enough to warrant a mid-game lecture.

His coach leaned into him, a sorrowful look on his face, and he told Brock that that you’d been in a car crash; that your car had flipped and you were in the hospital. They’d called a car for Brock and it was waiting just outside.

Brock’s blood ran cold. He stood frozen for a moment, trying to decide if this was some cruel joke. But the looks on the faces of the men around him were enough to tell him otherwise. Without another thought, he ran down the tunnel, dropping his stick and gloves carelessly on the floor. He moved as quickly as his legs would take him to the car outside, his mind racing with worst-case possibilities.

As he sat in the back seat of the Uber, or Lyft, or whatever it was, Brock thought he might just pass out. He noticed the driver had to take a detour - he tried not to look down the road, but Brock could see the lights from the police cars and he almost had to tell the driver to pull over so he could throw up.

The only thing that was bringing Brock comfort was the fact that your were in the hospital. You were alive and being cared for by professionals. But just because you weren’t dead didn’t mean you were okay. Brock worried that you would be in a coma, that you may be alive but that he would never see you open your eyes or hear your voice again. That the last you had seen him was when he was leaving you in anger. He worried that maybe you’d be paralyzed or have a severe head injury. All he could do was pray that you’d be okay.

Brock couldn’t think straight on the ride to the hospital. All he could think about was how dearly he loved you and how much he needed you. Even when you were laying right next to him, he would feel physically ill with how much he missed you - with how much you meant to him. He didn’t know if he could live without you. Just as Brock felt himself start to hyperventilate, the driver pulled up to the hospital.

Brock jumped out of the car, running inside and asking the receptionist for your name. He ignored the odd look she gave him - remembering that he was in full game-day gear. Once he knew where you were, he didn’t hear anything else the woman had to say (although he thinks that part of it might have been a warning that only family is allowed to visit at these hours - but Brock didn’t care, he was your family).

When he walked into your room, Brock’s breath was knocked out of him. You were laying in the bed, curled onto your side, asleep. Brock could see the few cuts that littered your face and arms, and his heart clenched at the sight of a large bruise forming along your temple. He took note of the various needles in your arms and the sound of the monitors you were hooked up to. As he stood frozen in the doorway, he could feel someone walk up to him. Brock turned to see a short woman in a white coat.

“Are you family?” The woman asked, “these visiting hours are reserved for close family only.”

Brock nodded dumbly, speaking through a dry mouth and heavy tongue that he was your boyfriend.

The woman gave him a sympathetic smile as she introduced herself as the doctor that’d been tending to you. She then explained your condition to him. You had a mild concussion, which was a miracle, and a couple of bruised ribs. You had fallen asleep due to the morphine and anti-nausea medication that you’d been given. She advised that Brock let you sleep, but that he was allowed to sit with you while you slept. The doctor also told him that they would finalize your discharge paperwork once you were awake and another check-up could be completed.

Brock couldn’t believe how lucky you’d been and as he walked over to you, all of his emotions bubbled over and he started to cry. He sat in the chair next to your bed, running a hand gently over your hair as he fought off full sobs. He’d been so consumed with his own thoughts that Brock didn’t realize his presence had woken you up.

You looked up at him, his eyes clenched shut as he brought his free hand up to wipe his tears. Slowly, you moved a hand up to grab his wrist, ignoring the slight ache in your abdomen from the movement. Brock’s eyes shot open at the feeing, his gaze immediately meeting yours.

He moved quickly then, his hands moving to either side of your face, his thumbs swiping soothingly along your cheeks.

“Oh god, you’re okay. Thank god you’re okay.”

You wrapped your arms around him, and he easily lifted you so that he could reciprocate. Brock needed to have his arms around you in that moment - to really be sure that you were there with him.

“I’m so sorry-” you’d started, but Brock cut you off with a soft “shh” as he buried his head into your shoulder.

He held you for as long as you would let him, until your ribs started to hurt and he gently lowered you back against the pillows beneath you. Brock then laid a kiss to your forehead before leaning back into his chair.

“When they told me what happened I was so worried I’d lost you. I almost collapsed right then and there.”

Brock let out a slight chuckle as he spoke through his tears and you reached out to hold his hand.

“Well, I’m still here, B. It’s gonna take a lot more than a big truck to kill me.”

Brock got serious, then, his eyebrows furrowing as he stared down at you.

“I could kill him, y’know - that guy that hit you. I don’t think I’ve ever hated someone so much before.”

“It’s okay, Brock, accidents happen. Besides, I was trying to drive to the arena so fast that I almost caused a couple myself.”

Your boyfriend didn’t seem to appreciate your attempt at lightening the mood, and you could feel that same lump in your throat that you’d had before you got in your car in the first place.

“I was trying to get to you to apologize in person,” you muttered, looking down to where your hand was linked with his. “I never should’ve gone off on you about that stupid picture. It wasn’t a big deal, but I was just so jealous and I couldn’t help it.”

Brock squeezed your hand, causing you to look up at him.

“I already forgave you, y/n. I can see how those pictures looked and I understand why you were upset, but you have nothing to be jealous about. You’re the woman that I want to spend the rest of my life with - I could never even think of being with someone else. I’ll try to be more careful when I take pictures and stuff. I’m sorry, baby, I love you so much.”

Your heart swelled as you looked at the man above you. The sincerity in his blue eyes was enough to make you fall in love all over again.

“I love you so much, too, Brock.”

He leaned down, giving you a chaste kiss. As he pulled away, he planted another peck to your cheek, then to your other one, and then all over your face until you were a giggling mess. When he finally sat back up, his tears had all dried and a smile now crossed his features.

“Now we just need to get you back home so I can take care of you, and we’ll all be okay again.”

A/N: I’m not totally in love with this one, but you guys deserve some actual writing from me. hope you liked it!

#brock boeser imagine #brock boeser fluff #brock boeser #hockey #nhl #nhl imagines #hockey imagines #vancouver canucks imagine

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istheresomebodywhocanimagine · 5 years

Text

Bang a Gong//Get It On (SMUT)

anonymous said: Hello! I LOVE your writing!! I was wondering if you could write something about Roger and reader where they're like roommates/friends and one day she accidentally walks in on Roger while he's playing with himself and some sexual tension starts to develop cause like holy fuck that was hot and Rog is like big or something idduno ❤️

(a/n: almost 6000 words so its a big boi i’m such a crackhead i added a little bit more to the request than asked bc I wanted to make it kinda funny hehe okay but it still follows the request don’t worry ANYWAYS yall im a mess this week hbu? Listen to T-Rex’s Electric Warrior album thx)

It was late afternoon when you decided to head over to yours to continue your study session with Brian. He’d already graduated, but he had taken some of the same science courses as you, so he promised he’d help you in exchange for a warm, home-cooked meal that Roger had zero part in. Whether it was because he distrusted Roger’s cooking skills or fearing being poisoned since they’d been bickering more lately, you had no idea, but you did know one thing – Roger would most definitely be home at this time. He usually got home an hour or two before you, so he wouldn’t be expecting you and you were just hoping he wasn’t eating any of the food you were planning on making.

The sound of T-Rex’s newest album, Electric Warrior, greeted you when you opened the door to your shared flat, Brian directly behind you. Immediately, you zeroed in on the source, knowing that Roger was most likely listening to it in his room, and you wondering where he’d scrounged up the money for that as you sat your book bag down on the hallway floor, pulling your shoes off individually before sitting them next to the bag. Brian followed suit, grimacing at the loud volume of the gritty-sounding blues song that was playing out of Roger’s speakers.

“Rog?” you called out, making a futile attempt to get a response from him as the music overpowered your voice. When you heard nothing, you sighed and rolled your eyes. “He’s going to go fucking deaf before he even goes blind, I swear it.” Pulling your hair out of the bun you’d had it in for most of the day, you locked the door behind Brian before grabbing your book bag again, heading for the couch.

“Wonder if he can hear the record, maybe he needs to turn it up a bit,” Brian joked lamely, making you snort and shake your head at the attempt at a jab. Not his best work, but the message was clear. You decided it was probably a good idea for you to go ask him to turn it down – if Brian did the same, you imagined it would end about as well as any of their other interactions had recently – in flames.

Dropping your bag at the end of the couch, you heard Brian go into the kitchen for a glass of water while you headed down the hallway, the music becoming almost unbearably loud as you approached his slightly cracked door. You could just see into his room, his disheveled honey blonde hair visible as he had his back to you – the headboard of the bed was directly next to the door, since he was a big fan of the whole ‘run into the room and immediately flop on the bed’ movement. Not appearing to be doing much except for laying there, you rolled your eyes at the fact that he was asleep right now.

“Got your music loud enough?” you yelled teasingly, throwing open the door and almost screaming at what you walked in on. Roger had his trousers and briefs pushed down just a bit, and he’d unbuttoned them as much as he could, fully freeing his cock from any restraints. He was laying down on top of his duvet, at least before he realized you’d barged in, after which he’d scrambled to tuck himself back into his briefs before rolling over away from you and pulling his duvet with him. The frantic action caused him to fall off the bed, and he landed with a thud and a loud groan as he disappeared from your view for a moment.

Your jaw was practically to the floor as you stood there, in absolute shock at what had just happened. The music was still playing loudly, and you felt your cheeks burning with embarrassment as you tried to grapple with what you’d seen. After a moment, Roger’s head popped back up over the side of his bed, and he looked both pleasantly annoyed and humiliated as he stared at you, seeming twice as embarrassed as you were. “You said what about my music?”

The attempt to change the subject was a valiant effort in itself, but was lost on you as you pressed your hands to your cheeks, laughing in horror for a moment. “Shit, Roger, I’m- I meant to knock, but the door was open, so I-“

“You can turn down the music,” he interrupted, giving you a pointed look before glancing at the record player to your right. Still in a mild daze, you nodded and turned slowly, turning the music down as the lead singer’s voice barely whispered out ‘You’ve got the teeth of a hydra upon you, you’re dirty sweet and you’re my girl.’ That only made things far more awkward than they already were, Roger’s piercing blue stare upon you the entire time you moved. It felt so uncomfortable as the singer yelled out ‘Get it on, bang the gong, get it on!’ that you had to shut your eyes for a moment, then open them again and give Roger a strained smile.

“I’m making pasta and garlic bread. Bri is here.” With that, you nodded curtly and scurried out of the room, trying to mask the conflicting emotions on your face as you reemerged into the living room.

“Thank god he listens to you,” Brian remarked as you passed, going directly to the kitchen. “I think I would have gone mad if he hadn’t turned it down. The man’s an animal.”

You almost choked at the last part of his sentence, coughing to cover it up as you pulled out a pot to boil some noodles in. Your cheeks were still bright red as you moved along, boiling the water and grabbing ingredients to make alfredo while you tried to erase the image of Roger splayed out on his bed, in the middle of getting himself off.

For the moment you’d seen him in what he thought was alone time, his face was pleasantly void of emotion, in a state of bliss as he rested back against his pillows. He looked utterly relaxed, careless – and dare you say, enticing – as he played with himself, probably assuming you wouldn’t be home for several hours yet. So when that bliss had erased itself because of you, you felt a twinge of guilt. After all, who were you to deny him that pleasure?

And something else twinged inside of you too – envy? Desire? Something darker, deeper than you’d expected had blossomed in your stomach, which wasn’t new – Roger was by far the most attractive roommate you’d had, well, ever. But this time, it was overwhelming, and you had to shove it down until it was buried when you’d almost finished making the pasta and Roger sauntered into the living room, his eyes immediately on you through the doorway. There was a look on his face, a warning one, and he glanced at Brian before raising an eyebrow at you. You realized he was wondering whether Brian knew, so you shook your head and offered a small reassuring smile, returning to the pasta and letting out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding.

“Oi, Roger, done destroying your eardrums?” Brian teased, Roger rolling his eyes as he started towards the kitchen, still lazily sauntering as if nothing had happened.

“Hello, Brian. Did you know I saw Chrissy today?” Roger remarked to Brian, seemingly offhanded, but you knew he was trying to push Brian’s buttons as he came to the refrigerator, opening it and pulling out a beer. “Talked to her about you, in fact. We had a nice conversation, sweet girl. A bit tame for my taste, but sweet.”

“Really?” Brian asked, trying to mask the anxious tone of voice he suddenly took on but failing miserably. You could hear him hop over the couch and make his way into the kitchen, Roger moving over to get plates down for the three of you as Brian attempted to nonchalantly lean against the doorway and cross his arms. “What did you tell her about me? Fred said he’s been talking me up, but who knows whether that means he’s telling her I’m smart or that I have a big cock.”

You stiffened a bit at that, almost imperceptibly, but Roger noticed. His blue eyes were picking you apart at the moment, noticing every movement, every subtle shift in your body language. He was nervous, afraid that you were going to slip up and say something about it, but you bit down on your lower lip before continuing to stir the pasta. God, speaking of big cocks, who knew Roger Taylor had one? Of all people, my fucking roommate. This is terrible, why am I thinking about this?

“I described you in terms that were positively glowing,” Roger schmoozed, and you turned down the heat to the pasta as you went to go throw in the garlic bread. “Which coincidentally is also how I’d like to see you in hell.”

“Oh, piss off,” Brian grumbled, giving him the middle finger before he went to get himself a beer from the fridge. Peering over your shoulder at the pasta, Brian gave you an appreciative pat on the head before he grabbed the bottle opener from the cupboard, tossing it to Roger once he’d opened his beer. “That looks fantastic, Y/N, you’ve outdone yourself.”

With that, he exited the kitchen, heading to the bathroom to wash up since your sink was full of dishes – Roger was on your case as soon as the door had closed. “Did you tell him? You better not have told him.”

“I- Fuck, I didn’t tell him, Rog, relax,” you stuttered, alarmed by how aggressive he was being all of a sudden. On top of being slightly turned on from how hung your roommate was, now you were trying to fend off even more excitement as he basically trapped you in the corner, his tightly-closed fist resting on the counter near you and making all of the veins in his slim forearm protrude. You finally moved your gaze up from his hand to his face, and he had a stormy look in his eyes, something impenetrable about the emotions flitting across his face. “I know he’d never let it rest if I told him.”

“Good.” With that, he pushed off the counter, giving you a once-over before he grabbed his beer off the counter and popped the top off, taking a drink. “We don’t speak of this, alright?”

“Obviously.” You nodded as you spoke, and he got himself a plate before helping himself to some of the pasta as you pulled the garlic bread out of the oven, your hands shaky. It didn’t go unnoticed by Roger, but he chose not to speak on it, instead just taking a piece of the bread carefully so he wouldn’t burn himself. He then tossed it on his plate, looked up at you, and raised his beer, tapping it to his temple before tipping it at you.

“Cheers.” With a smirk and a final nod, he exited the kitchen, leaving you to wonder what in the hell was going through his mind. He sauntered off the way he came, heading for his room with a sway to his step that hinted he wasn’t nearly as ashamed about what had happened as you’d thought.

And obviously, he wasn’t, because two days later, you walked in on almost the same exact thing.

This time, you were alone, and thank God you were, because Brian would have caught Roger first for sure. You walked into your apartment to find it pleasantly quiet – Roger was playing that same album, but at a reasonable level this time. So, you figured he’d probably be in his room again, and you were right. What you didn’t count on was for the door to be wide open this time, giving you a full display of almost the exact same thing all over again as you approached the doorway.

Roger was pretty much spread eagle again, propped up against his headboard this time – his eyes were closed, his head having fallen back in ecstasy as he stroked his cock at a lazy pace, his grip loose on himself. Long tendrils of blonde hair were splayed out haphazardly across the pillow, and he was just in his boxers and a button up this time, but the button up might as well have been off – it was completely open, displaying the way his chest rose and feel with each shaky breath he was taking.

You debated whether to say anything or not, but you figured you had to talk this out with him one way or another, so you cleared your throat and watched as Roger’s eye peeked open, looking directly at you in the doorway. A sigh left his lips as he grabbed a pillow, covering himself up while he climbed off of the other side of the bed, tucking himself in before turning back to you with a hand on his hip. He kept the pillow placed strategically in front of him, nodding. “Lovely afternoon, isn’t it?”

“Roger,” you replied in a knowing tone, raising an eyebrow as you stepped into his room. “We’ve got to talk about this. What in the hell is going on?”

“You’ve been coming home early,” he shrugged, still standing in that nonchalant pose that was completely disrupted by the pillow. Honestly, you were surprised he hadn’t kicked you out of his room yet. He was still clearly excited, his eyes completely fucked out from how close he’d gotten to his high, so it was a wonder that he was entertaining your conversation right now.

“Not that early!” you retorted, crossing your arms as you crawled onto his bed with a hesitant glance at where he’d just been sitting. Placing yourself near the end, you sat cross-legged facing him and patted the bed in front of you. “Come on, what’s really going on?”

He gave you an eye roll before he carefully crawled onto the bed, imitating your sitting position and keeping the pillow in the same place as he crossed his arms, almost avoiding your gaze. “I dunno,” he offered in a mumble, shrugging again and looking down at his bed as he pursed his lips.

“Roger, I’ve literally been your roommate for a year now. I figured I’d walk in on this sooner or later, but twice in a few days? Your sex drive is…”

“What?” he pried, his head snapping up so he was staring directly at you. “Horrifying? Excessive? Yeah, imagine being the one that wants to fuck like a rabbit. Isn’t fun, thank you very much.”

“No!” you laughed, sitting back and stretching your legs out as you propped yourself up on your hands, resting your head on your shoulder. “Lord knows I can’t speak much on excessive sex drives. You know how many times you’ve almost walked in on me?”

“No fucking way,” he countered, looking at you in disbelief as he uncrossed his arms. “You’re the biggest prude I know.”

“Was Brian not here two days ago, or?” you asked, giving him a questioning look. “Besides, I hide my escapades very well. You’re just unpracticed, is what it is. I’ve had loads of people over that you haven’t even seen – takes skill to hide them as well as I do.”

“You’re lying!” he laughed, looking you up and down for a moment. When you raised an eyebrow and remained as serious as could be, his face was quickly taken over by a look of amazement. “Y/N, a bigger whore than Roger Taylor? Now, that’s news.”

“God, why do you always talk about yourself in the third person? You’re so weird.” You shook your head and laughed as he shrugged, his eyes wandering over your legs for a moment before looking back up to you with an odd, queer look. “What?” you asked, cocking your head as he stared at you as if he’d just thought of the most genius idea in the world.

“Let’s fuck.”

You literally jolted at the statement, not expecting the suggestion at all. Sure, you found Roger hot, and there had been loads of sexual tension between the two of you before, but you chalked that up to just being on your end because you wanted to jump a lot of people’s bones. But with Roger, you guessed it had been sort of different. Never had you held back so much on your own desires – you’d screwed around with plenty of roommates before, but you didn’t want to this time. You wanted Roger around, as much as you hated to admit it. Having him as constant, tantalizing, out of reach eye candy was better than shagging him once and having to move out after things got awkward.

When you didn’t reply, he took the opportunity to continue. “No, I’m serious! Let’s do it. Why not?”

“Why not?” You almost had to laugh, and you closed your eyes as you tried to think rationally. Don’t fuck your roommate. That’s, like, roommate code number 1. “Roger, we’re roommates. I don’t think that’s very smart.”

“I think it’s a great idea,” he replied simply, his slim pink lips parted slightly as he stared at you, a mischievous look on his face. “You’re hot, I’m hot, we’re both horny. It’s a winning situation, really.”

“But what if it makes things awkward?” Roger looked introspective for a moment, mulling over the possible outcomes of what he was suggesting, then returned to his mischievous look.

“Never know if we don’t try.”

He had a point. You tilted your head to the side for a second, wondering to yourself if you were really doing to go through with this, but your body spoke for your mind anyways. “Fuck it,” you murmured, moving to your knees and crawling over to straddle him as he tossed the pillow to the side, meeting you with open arms. His arms snaked around your waist as you smashed your lips against his, taking his face in your hands before threading your hands into his hair. Kissing back eagerly, he pulled you flush against him, pressing your chest against his and digging his fingers into your back a bit.

When you took his lower lip between your teeth and tugged a bit, the sound of his groan set off alarms in your head. On one hand, you panicked because this was Roger, your roommate – this sound should never be coming out of his mouth because of you. But on the other hand, the sound of it was so delicious that you smiled widely as you held on to his lip, lingering for just a moment before you let go.

You were about to say some smartass remark when Roger gave you a wild look, cutting you off by diving straight back in for a open-mouthed kiss, his tongue expertly sliding into your mouth and tangling with yours for a moment before swirling around it. A small noise of pleased surprise emitted from the back of your throat, and Roger’s grip only got tighter on you in response.

After a minute or two of a hot and heavy makeout session to the background noise of T-Rex’s gritty glam rock sound, you felt Roger’s hands sneak under the back of your shirt, pushing it up as he went to unclasp a bra that he soon came to find out wasn’t there. “Ah, no bra? Very naughty,” he remarked, his voice breathy, but amused as he pulled away from the kiss for a moment, looking up at you with an undying smirk on his lips.

“You’re going to be one of those that narrates the entire thing, aren’t you?” you teased, pulling your shirt off over your head and tossing it to the side as Roger’s hands came up to rest on either side of your ribcage, his eyes darting between your breasts and your eyes as he shamelessly ogled at you.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” was his equally teasing reply, and you rolled your eyes playfully before starting to push his button up off, which he shrugged off and tossed in the same direction of your shirt. “Now,” he continued, wrapping your legs around his waist before skillfully flipping the two of you over – his hips pinned you to the bed immediately, and you almost gasped as you felt his clothed erection pressing against your thigh. “What d’you say we see if you’re consistent?” His large hands started to tug down your shorts, and he kneeled between your legs as he pulled them off, revealing – to no shock for either of you – that you were sans panties too. “Oh, Y/N,” he almost growled, watching fixedly as you spread your legs, now on full display for him.

“Spoiler: I am consistent.” He chuckled at your comment, only briefly, before he laid himself on his stomach, laying his cheek against the inside of your thigh before pressing a kiss there. This was followed by a series of kisses, each making you tingle with anticipation more and more, and by the time he’d worked his way up to your core, you were practically squirming.

Running your hand back into his hair, you gave it a gentle tug of encouragement as you watched him hook your legs up over his shoulders, giving you an impish grin. “Now don’t be too loud. Don’t want the neighbors to be calling in a noise complaint,” he murmured, and before you could quip something back his tongue was between your folds, licking a flat stripe up to your clit and making you gasp slightly at the sensation. Placing an open-mouthed kiss to your clit, he sucked just enough to make you shiver softly, your fingers curling up in his hair.

When you felt his left hand ghosting up the inside of your thigh, you giggled softly at the ticklish feeling it left behind, and he chuckled against your core, the vibration making you moan out his name in bliss. In moments, his fingers were in his mouth, briefly getting wetted down before he slid his index and middle finger into you, just testing the waters. But the feeling wasn’t enough, and you whined impatiently as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, his mouth leaving a small love bite on your thigh.

“More, Rog,” you urged, and you heard him make a pleasantly surprised noise before he inserted another finger, stretching you out more and making you hum in appreciation. “Fuck, yes, like that.”

He curled up his fingers as he moved his mouth back to your clit, sucking harder this time and sending all of your nerve endings into a frenzy as you moaned louder, not caring who heard. This man was a god to you right now, his fingers stimulating places you’d practically only heard about in legends. You thanked whatever gods there were that you’d let your common sense take a break on this one, because by the time Roger was crawling back up to hover over you, your face was flushed from pleasure. Splotches of red decorated your cheeks, contrasting with the blown-out pupils of your eyes, which watched him as he smirked down at you, maybe staring a bit too long.

“You going to fuck me or not?” you challenged, Roger laughing before crawling off the bed, easily pulling off his boxers and finally freeing his hard member once again. Openly staring, you realized you’d been correct in your observation that Roger was genuinely huge, and you could barely take your eyes off it as he grabbed a condom from his nightstand, crawling back on the bed as you sat up. He rolled the latex onto his cock slowly, eyeing you as you turned around and got on your hands and knees, peeking back over your shoulder at him and watching as he kneeled behind you, forcing his knee between your legs so he could spread them more. His broad hands came to a rest on your ass, giving the soft flesh a good squeeze before he looked up at you, thoroughly pleased with this whole situation.

“You sure you want to go through with this?” he asked, wrapping his hand around his cock and giving himself a few strokes as he ran the tip between your folds, eliciting something akin to a purr as he brushed up against your clit.

“Please, Roger,” you almost moaned, pressing your hips back eagerly and chewing on your lip. “Can’t just rile me up like this and then leave me hanging.”

“I mean, I could,” he taunted, pulling his hips back for a moment and sitting back on his heels as you whined in frustration, shooting him a nasty look over your shoulder. “I’m just joking, so impatient.” He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he gave you a toothy grin, rising again and lining himself up before pushing into you, just barely. “You just look so pretty when you beg.”

“You bastard, fuck me already!” You didn’t care if you were being impatient – and to be honest, the thought of you needing him was enough to make him a bit dizzy, but he ignored the hazy edges of his vision as he thrusted into you with a tameless grunt, sliding home quite easily and making you cry out in a mixture of surprise and lust.

Thoughts of how sore you were going to be later edged into your mind, but they were quickly overwhelmed by a wave of pleasure as Roger wasted no time in starting to move his hips. Barely giving you time to adjust, he filled you over and over, making your arms wobble a bit as you moved down to rest on your elbows, barely able to support your own weight. Roger’s hands found purchase on your hips, pulling your ass flush back against him with each thrust, and he couldn’t help but groan your name as the sound of slapping skin filled the room and the smell of sex joined it.

“Oh, Jesus,” you breathed out, gathering the sheets of his bed in your hands and clenching your fingers around them tightly as you let your eyes flutter shut, your eyelids feeling heavy from lust. Roger was the same, his eyelids threatening to close with every passing second as the view he currently had was phenomenal. Moving one hand to your shoulder to gain more purchase, he thrusted again and somehow buried himself at an even more satisfying angle as he leaned over your body, suddenly rolling his hips agonizingly slow. He then moved his other hand to your jaw, then letting it come to rest on your throat. He applied no pressure as he did so, just letting his hand rest on your skin, but the presence of it and the thought of what would happen if he were to just press in on the sides slightly enough to make you moan. “You’re so big, Rog.”

“Yeah?” he replied, his eyes lighting up as your praise swirled around in his mind, boosting his ego and reinvigorating his big mouth – he was never one for being quiet, anyways. “Taking my cock so well. You like that?” A nod from you confirmed his question, and he let out a satisfied grunt as he pulled out for a moment, flipping you over onto your back and running his fingertips down the bare skin of your stomach. He marveled at how this perspective was even better, getting so distracted by the view that he had to remind himself after a moment that you were waiting for him to continue. Pushing back into you with a quiet groan, his swollen lips parted slightly as erratic breaths came and went, a light layer of sweat making his bangs stick to his forehead in places. But he looked unbelievably attractive like this, the sight of him towering over you as he went back to work on you making you reach down to grab his hand, returning it to your throat.

He caught his lower lip between his teeth as he looked down at you, thrusting at an irregular pace as he struggled to stave off his orgasm, which was rapidly approaching. As desperately as he wanted to make you come undone first, everything about you was threatening to pull him over the edge. The way you closed your hand around his wrist, daring him to choke you, the fierce, almost feral look on your face as you gazed up at him. You weren’t afraid of getting what you wanted, and right now, you wanted him to fuck you until you were seeing stars.

His fingers started to press against the side of your neck as he relentlessly fucked into you, your eyes closing as you relished in the dizzy feeling that it brought to your approach to your orgasm. And Roger noticed this blissful look on your face, the sight of it too much to take as he mumbled, “God, sorry love, I might have to tap out early if you keep on looking like that.”

You were too wrapped up in your own ecstasy to care much that Roger was close, but you paid attention enough to tap on his wrist, after which he released the pressure he’d had on your arteries, and you opened your eyes to look up at him, smiling impishly. “Just let go, Rog. Don’t apologize.”

Those words reassured him and kept his hips moving as he reached up, sliding his fingers into your mouth. He groaned in approval as you wetted them down, and he reluctantly retracted them before reaching down to press them against your clit, rubbing it in time with his thrusts and making you moan out his name lowly. The sound of his name leaving your lips pulled him past the point of no return, and he came as he let out a loud groan, followed by a string of curses, his hips stuttering and pushing into you erratically as he rode out his high.

Panting as he came down from his orgasm, he kept his fingers pressed against your clit, applying more pressure and circling them faster as he still thrusted into you, albeit a lot slower. But it didn’t matter too much if he kept going, because you were soon calling out his name as you came too, your orgasm rocking your body to the core and causing waves of pleasure to consume you.

Roger kept his fingers on your clit as you rode out your high, the already-sensitive nub in overdrive as he crooned softly to you throughout your orgasm, murmuring words of encouragement. When you were done, you finally collapsed back against the bed, exhausted from the mind-blowing, absolutely out of pocket sex you’d just had with your roommate. God, your roommate. Things were about to get real messy.

Roger pulled out of you slowly, making you feel incredibly empty as he left the bed and the room, disposing of the condom in the bathroom before coming back with a wet washcloth, cleaning you off as you watched him quietly, your chest rising and falling with each breath and heart racing as you attempted to catch said breath. When he was done, he tossed the washcloth God knows where before he pulled his boxers on and grabbed his shirt from the floor, handing it to you. You pulled it on gratefully, starting to button it from the bottom up as he finally came to rest next to you. He was about to speak when something in the doorway just past your head caught his eye, making his expression sour.

You turned your head to find Brian awkwardly filling the doorframe, his mouth slightly agape at the sight of you, pretty much fully naked except for the small expanse of skin on your tummy that the bottom two buttons on Roger’s shirt covered. “Oh shit,” was all you could say, and Roger quickly moved his duvet over your lower half as you tugged his shirt to at least cover up your breasts.

But Brian had already seen everything, so the attempt was futile. “Hey, Brian, mind telling me why the fuck you’re in my room right now?” Roger asked irritably, thoroughly annoyed that the tall, curly-headed man was just standing there, gawking.

Realizing that he was being a royal moron, Brian quickly composed himself, but his voice was lightly and apprehensive as he spoke. “Roger, may I have a brief word with you? Out here?”

“Brief?” Roger repeated incredulously, looking at you before sighing and crawling over you to get out of his bed. “I suppose you could, Bri, but I highly doubt it.” Brian turned after a terse nod in your direction, heading down the hallway, and Roger took the opportunity to turn in the doorway, watching as you crawled out of bed too, your ass peeking out from the bottom of his shirt when you turned for a moment to smooth out the duvet. Chewing on his lower lip, he grabbed your arm as you passed, stopping you in your tracks and making you face him.

“Bri’s waiting for you,” you warned, but he took no heed of your words, using the collar of his shirt on you to pull you in for a quick, searing kiss that left you reeling as he pulled away.

“Sorry, had to.” He quickly reached around you to pinch your ass, and you raised your eyebrow in response, trying not to smile as the devastatingly gorgeous roommate of yours sent you a cheeky smile to match his next words. “We’re not done here. Don’t get dressed quite yet.”

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chloebeale · 5 years

Text

GOING CRAZY WHEN I’M WITH YOU

For @bechloe-week day 2: Co-Workers.

Beca isn’t trusted to recommend new people to her hiring manager after Amy’s time with the company turned disastrous, so when the girl she’s dating wants to apply, they decide they’ll be “strangers” during working hours.

I’d like to thank the academy and also @isthemusictoblame for kicking my ass into writing this. (There is no academy, just Theresa)

(Read below or on ao3)

WORDS: 4,401 | RATING: M

Why, Beca thinks to herself as she sheds her trusty leather jacket in the office of her regular, day-to-day job -- if working for a highly esteemed record label can be considered regular or day-to-day, anyway -- is she so nervous? It’s not like it’s her first day on the job. Beca has been working here for what seems like a lifetime now. In reality, it has been two years, but she took to the position like a moth to a flame, and she hasn’t looked back since.

Work is... Work. It’s work. Beca is passionate about it, she enjoys it, and she does her job well. There are big names and famous faces walking through that door every single day, and save for the occasional inner fangirl moment, she always manages to remain entirely professional, she never loses her cool.

(And if you were to ask Beca Mitchell, she’s totally cool.)

But today, her blue-gray eyes remain fixed on the doorway to the office she knows like the back of her hand, to the point where coworkers have begun to give her questioning looks, with one even going out of their way to ask her if everything’s okay. Beca has simply shaken them off, told them she didn’t sleep very well last night and she’s a little out of it, but that’s not true.

Well, the lack of sleep is. But Beca has a whole other reason to be acting the way she is. It all started about a year ago now, when one Patricia “Fat Amy” Hobart made her grand entrance into the company...

[ REWIND! ]

---

“Beca,” Mr. Pritchard begins, his hands clasped one on top of the other atop his (admittedly very disorganized) office desk. “I know you mean well, and you really are a valued member of this team, but I’m afraid I just can’t give your friend anymore chances.”

When she’d pushed for her management to give the open office assistant position to her roommate, Beca knew she’d been taking something of a risk. But she and Amy live in the city, they have rent to pay, and it was clear Amy was never going to look for work on her own. Two paychecks would’ve improved their circumstances significantly. They’d had only two months of living in what Beca considered true luxury (rent paid on time, bills taken care of and a little money still left over? Luxury.) before Amy had been dismissed from the company, a whole trail of reasons why. And it seems that no amount of pleading on Beca’s part is going to change anybody’s mind about the decision to let the blonde go.

“Now, I’m not saying it’s your fault, and of course I can’t discuss another staff member’s dismissal with you, but I really think the best thing for you to do now is to focus on your job, and to leave the hiring to me.”

Beca wants to fight, to try just one more time to beg Mr. Pritchard to give her roommate just one more chance, but she knows this is a losing battle, and considering the long list of reasons Amy is no longer employed -- the state of the desk before her just one of many -- she knows her insistence will only continue in vain.

“Okay, Mr. Pritchard,” the brunette eventually gives in through a small, stifled sigh, “I understand. Um, about my friend Stacie wanting to apply...”

The manager shoots her a look, and Beca simply hangs her head.

Focus on her job and leave the hiring to them. Beca has got the message.

---

And that memory, Beca realizes, is why she’s so damn nervous.

But she doesn’t have to be. She really doesn’t have to be, because she and Chloe have gone over this a million times now. Sure, they may be low-key dating, and sure, sparks may be flying already between the two, but here, at work, they don’t know one another. They’re total and complete strangers, because Beca is not allowed to meddle with the hiring process anymore, not since her first and last recommendation turned out so disastrously.

(Truth be told, Amy really didn’t do anything too terrible, at least in Beca’s opinion. Showing up late, making personal calls from the manager’s desk, rearranging his entire office because the feng shui just wasn’t right... All forgivable. Entirely unprofessional, of course, but still forgivable.)

But when the perfect job opportunity had opened up, and Chloe had looked at her with those big, pleading eyes, the ones that Beca could get lost in for hours and completely forget who or where she really was, it had been impossible to say no to her. It’s not like Beca recommended her, nor did she have anything to do with the hiring process -- Chloe landed the position all on her own merit -- but the two of them being acquainted, especially as closely as they are, just won’t sit right with Mr. Pritchard. It’ll be the Fat Amy fiasco all over again, as far as he’s concerned, so she and her maybe-girlfriend-but-really-person-she-hasn’t-actually-had-that-conversation-with-yet have decided they’ll play pretend while on office hours, at least for now. They’ll be perfect strangers, they’ll do their jobs and nobody will know anything different.

Much like a watched pot that never boils, Beca has averted her gaze from the doorway for a fraction of a second when it suddenly swings open, Mr. Pritchard’s hand pressed to the glass as he holds it still for his newest hire to make her way inside.

“And this is where you’ll be working,” Mr. Pritchard says, proud smile on his weathered face as he follows Chloe into the room, door closing quietly behind them.

It’s not uncommon for Chloe Beale to enter a room and Beca’s heart to all but stop beating. She can’t tell this time, however, whether it’s because her maybe-girlfriend has taken her breath away the way she usually does, or because this is officially the beginning of their act. And Beca Mitchell is no actress, so this really will be a test of her own non-abilities.

It’s with sheer force that Beca manages to pull her gaze away from the redhead, not wanting to draw attention to the fact that her mouth is on the verge of hanging open. As Mr. Pritchard begins to walk Chloe around the office, though, introducing her to each on-shift staff member, Beca allows herself one more look the other girl’s way.

Chloe always looks beautiful. But today, with her auburn hair hung in precise ringlet curls, that gray pencil skirt that hugs her figure perfectly, those heels... Man, those heels. Chloe looks incredible, and it’s so hard for Beca not to stare.

Of course, there’s so much more to Chloe Beale than just the way she looks. Beca appreciates every aspect of the other woman. Her mind is astonishing, it’s so deep and so different, unlike anything Beca has ever experienced before. She looks at the world in the most interesting light, and she has broadened Beca’s views so immensely already that--

“Ah, Beca. This is our new office assistant, Chloe.”

Mr. Pritchard’s introduction cuts into Beca’s thoughts, the ones where she’s practically drooling over the idea of the woman standing before her who she’s supposed to act like she doesn’t know and has never actually met before, and Beca jumps slightly on the spot.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Becky,” Chloe chirps, extending her hand politely. Already, the redhead is proving a much better actress than Beca is, though the undeniable sparkle to her crystal blue eyes, the way her lips are turned upward the smallest fraction at one corner, would likely give her away if anybody else knew the truth.

“Yeah, you too,” Beca responds as coolly as possible, though her pitch does rise just a small amount on the second word, but Beca dismisses it with a swift cough and a clear of her throat, and Mr. Pritchard doesn’t seem to notice. Beca notices the way Chloe bites down gently onto her lower lip, though, and she can just picture that familiar smirk the other girl is desperately holding back. “It’s Beca. But I mean, Beca, Becky... Whatever.”

“My apologies, Beca.”

She’ll get her back for that later, she decides.

---

They really haven’t been very lucky with office assistants. There have been two since Amy, neither a very good fit for the company, but it seems that Chloe is slotting in perfectly already. By lunchtime, she has already sprung some idea on Mr. Pritchard that Beca doesn’t quite understand just yet -- but she’ll ask Chloe about later -- and he has loudly professed how much he loves her enthusiasm.

The room is only half as full as it had been earlier, with a few people still out on their lunch breaks, so Beca allows herself a moment to steal a glance toward Chloe. She’s sitting at her newly assigned work station, typing away on her computer, and looking every bit a member of the team. To say that Beca feels proud is an understatement, and she really wishes she could brag about the other girl to anyone who feels like listening, but she knows she can’t, and she’s okay with it. Beca has never been one for PDA, anyway. She’s just... Proud. Understandably so.

A part of her wants to catch Chloe’s eye, but she knows that’s dangerous, because Beca doesn’t do very well at hiding her own blush, and she’s sure her cheeks would darken at least three shades if the two of them were to make eye contact.

There’s a soft ‘Ping!’ from her computer’s iMessage application, and Beca realizes she’s saved, quite literally, by the bell.

Chloe, 1:34 PM: I know you’re watching me, Becky 😉

Chloe, 1:34 PM: Don’t you have work to do?

And there they go, Beca’s cheeks heating up beneath the soft layer of foundation lightly covering her face. Her lips purse to keep herself from grinning.

Beca, 1:36 PM: What can I say, Cleo. You’re distracting.

Chloe’s soft, unmistakable giggle sounds, though Beca keeps her eyes on her screen, watching the three dots as Chloe types her response.

Chloe, 1:37 PM: Cleo? That’s just pushing it. I think just one of us getting the other’s name wrong will do for now.

Beca, 1:38 PM: Maybe.

Chloe, 1:40 PM: How do you think I’m doing? I feel like it’s going well, but you know these people better than I do. Do you think they hate me yet?

Beca, 1:42 PM: Are you kidding? I don’t think it’s possible for anybody to hate you. And you heard Pritchard earlier, he’s already singing your praises. You’re doing great, Chlo.

Chloe, 1:43 PM: Thank you. Here’s hoping!

Chloe, 1:43 PM: How is your day going? It’s weird being in the same room as you and not talking.

Beca, 1:44 PM: It’s weird being in the same room as you and not touching.

Finally, Beca dares herself to steal another quick glance the other girl’s way, and she sees the way Chloe’s perfectly painted lips are turned upward all over again.

Chloe, 1:46 PM: I know. Mr. Pritchard did show me a perfectly good closet during the tour earlier. The one where all of the filing is kept.

There’s a grin on Beca’s lips as she types her own response, her eyes rolling playfully.

Beca, 1:47 PM: You’re ridiculous.

Chloe, 1:48 PM: I know, I’m kidding.

Chloe, 1:49 PM: I do have some filing to do, though...

Beca freezes up momentarily. Is that a hint? She’s about to ask when she sees the other girl from the corner of her eye rising from her seat. Chloe flashes a charming smile toward one of their coworkers as she passes him by, and at first, she doesn’t make eye contact with Beca. Not until she reaches the door, anyway.

“Um, I’m sorry, I know you’re really busy, but do you think you could show me where to find the bathroom, Becky?”

Gray eyes shoot upward, locking instantly with blue. She shifts her stare briefly around the room, though nobody is batting an eyelid, before fixating it quickly back on Chloe. There’s that charming smile on her face still, it hasn’t faltered even slightly, and against her better judgment, Beca finds herself standing from her seat.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Beca nods, brushing a chunk of mousy hair behind her ear as she makes her way toward the door, the one Chloe has already opened and is standing expectantly beside. “It’s Beca.”

“Oh, sorry. First day, still learning everybody’s names!”

There’s a silence surrounding the two as they exit the room, and while Beca has her doubts, she finds herself trailing along behind the other girl.

“We’re not going to the bathroom, are we?” She questions, brow arching as she keeps up with the redhead’s pace.

Chloe’s answer is simple and bright, it’s chirpy and enthusiastic, every bit the friendly new coworker, “Nope!”

It’s almost ridiculous, the things Beca will do when it comes to Chloe. She takes her job seriously, and she would never do anything to jeopardize it.

...Except have her maybe-girlfriend start working there without her boss’ knowledge. Oh, and potentially make out with her in the filing closet.

It’s a busy building, there are plenty of staff members, all with a constant flow of work to keep on top of, so it’s slightly foreign for the hallway to be as empty as it is, though Beca is grateful for the fact as she continues to follow Chloe, almost stopping and turning back around as she comes to her senses.

But then the redhead is opening up a new door, and turning to flash Beca the smirk she’d held back earlier over her shoulder, and God, Beca swears she feels her insides begin to melt.

“There aren’t cameras in here, right?” Chloe questions as Beca follows her into the room, her tone casual as she scans the upper corners.

“I don’t think so. But people come in and out of here a lot, Chlo. We should probably--”

Before she can even finish her sentence, familiar lips are pressing against her own, the taste of brand new lipstick and everything Chloe Beale hitting her immediately, and Beca’s body relaxes into the feeling, her hands instantly finding their way to Chloe’s waist.

“We should probably..?” Chloe prompts, lips still brushing against Beca’s. Beca knows that she’s teasing, and that if she really didn’t want to do this, Chloe wouldn’t push, but her maybe-girlfriend is like a drug, and Beca is suddenly desperate for her fix.

“We should probably make out a little,” the brunette murmurs into the kiss, pressing her lips more firmly to Chloe’s. She feels the other girl’s curve into a small smile against her own, and Beca knows she’s done for.

For such a small person, Beca is surprisingly strong. It helps that Chloe is pretty light herself, and soon Beca’s grip on her waist is tightening until she can snake her arms around her, pale legs wrapping around her own as she carries the other girl to the nearest surface.

“You could’ve given me a heads up that you were wearing this,” Beca says with a certain amount of urgency as she pulls her lips away from the other’s. Her heart beats wildly in her chest, and her gaze drops downward toward Chloe’s skirt. It has ridden up with the position of her legs wrapped around her, and Beca feels an aching at her center, the need for more pulsing adamantly through her small frame.

“Why?” Chloe’s soft laugh is like music as it falls against Beca’s lips, her arms wrapping with ease around her neck. “You don’t like it?”

“I love it,” Beca huffs, head tilting to the side just a little bit to allow her lips the perfect angle to begin peppering light kisses along Chloe’s jaw. “You look amazing, Chlo.”

How far they’re going to go in here, Beca doesn’t know. She does know that she doesn’t care right now, though. Maybe later she’ll worry about the consequences, which is very much unlike her when it comes to her job, but Chloe is just... She’s Chloe. She’s irresistible, and Beca can’t think of anything else she’d rather be doing right now than trailing open mouthed kisses down toward the redhead’s neck, the sound of her soft, familiar whine vibrating through her throat and against Beca’s lips.

There’s an urgency to Beca’s hushed tone as she allows her teeth to graze lightly over the other girl’s soft skin. “Do you want me to stop?”

Although Chloe’s head is tilted back, Beca feels the way she shakes it. “No,” she husks breathily, “That’s the exact opposite of what I want.”

In hindsight, perhaps Beca really should’ve considered this before. The fact that she and Chloe are very much in that early, honeymoon phase of their relationship, that time where neither can keep their hands to themselves. Not even someplace like this, where it’s vital that they do. But Beca isn’t thinking about that right now, she isn’t thinking about what she should be doing, she’s focusing on what she wants to do, and that just so happens to be sitting on the cabinet in front of her, legs parted perfectly around her own, voice soft and pleading as long fingers work their way into the back of brunette hair.

“You have to try to be quiet, okay?” Beca whispers as her lips continue their downward path, tongue flicking delicately over soft skin as she reaches the other girl’s collarbone.

“I will,” Chloe mumbles, and although Beca isn’t looking at her, she can picture her expression so clearly. The way Chloe’s head is angled backward, red hair draped down her back, eyes hooded and silently begging for more. The mental image makes it almost impossible for Beca to keep her hands to herself, and soon she finds them trailing from around Chloe’s waist and across her inner thighs, the way the other girl’s legs part giving off the impression of silent pleading.

Her own arousal begins to pool between her legs, but Beca’s focus isn’t on herself right now, it’s on the woman sitting before her, on the way her fingers are sliding feather lightly over her skin. It’s hot to the touch, even more so the further she moves up the inside of Chloe’s thigh. The redhead releases a soft, barely audible whimper as Beca’s fingers reach the fabric of her panties, the material invitingly wet.

“Fuck, Chlo,” Beca mutters against her skin, teeth nibbling gently down over familiar goosebumps. “How long have you been wanting this?”

“Since the second I saw you this morning,” Chloe breathes unsteadily, hips pushing ever so slightly forward in an effort to seek more friction.

Beca can take the not-so-subtle hint, two fingers sliding the damp fabric aside and finally meeting with the other girl’s wet center. The action immediately pulls a whimper from the back of Chloe’s throat, and Beca finds herself biting down a little more roughly onto her skin. It’s not her intention to leave a mark, Chloe is just so damn hot, she can’t help herself. The tip of her pointer brushes over her clit, coating it in her arousal, and the aching between her own legs increases tenfold in response to Chloe’s audible reaction.

Accepting Chloe’s promise to stay quiet had definitely been wishful thinking on Beca’s part, or perhaps she was just playing dumb, because they both know just how loud Chloe can be, how forward she is with her verbal responses. It’s really no hardship for Beca to trail her lips back up toward the other girl’s to stifle the sounds beginning to fall almost lazily from them as her finger slides easily inside of her, the instant warmth a welcomed feeling, and truth be told, a total turn on.

As Beca slides her middle finger down Chloe’s swollen clit and toward her center, letting it slip inside of her alongside her pointer, she’s the one to release a soft moan into the other girl’s mouth.

“You’re so hot,” she breathes, and while she knows it’s a less than creative, less than intelligent compliment, it’s exactly what’s on Beca’s mind as her fingers pump in and out of the other girl, her gentle moaning vibrating against her lips.

Beca has been learning Chloe’s body throughout their time together. She knows how to tease her, she knows where to touch her to pull the exact reaction she wants from her, and as much as Beca wants to prolong this, to drag this out for as long as possible and to have Chloe begging her to let her finish, she also has to remember where they are. It’s difficult, given the distraction, but regardless.

It’s really not long before their lips are moving away from one another’s, Chloe’s head falling forward to rest against Beca’s shoulder as she pants as quietly as possible -- it’s not very quiet, but for Chloe, it’s impressive -- and Beca feels the way the other girl’s walls clench tightly around her digits. She removes her wet fingers from her center, allowing the coated tips to stroke delicately over her clit until she knows Chloe has reached her release.

The internal struggle of having to finally pull her fingers away from the other girl is a difficult one, because Beca wants to go again, to deliberately pull louder sounds and more desperate movements from the redhead, but she knows that she can’t, not right now. She can still feel her against her skin as she lifts a hand to settle gently under Chloe’s chin, the last few minutes ingrained in her memory as something she never wants to forget. For a second or two, her gaze washes over Chloe’s face, taking in her expression as she comes down from her euphoric high, and Beca can’t help but feel a little smug. Chloe looks beautiful and vulnerable, and Beca watches her with adoration, before her lips are pressing delicately against the other’s.

“We should probably get back to work,” the brunette finally says, her voice a mumble against the redhead’s lips. It’s even more difficult for her to pull back from the kiss than it was to move her fingers away, but Beca somehow does it, and the expression she’s met with on the other girl’s face is reward enough.

“You’re right,” Chloe breathes, her arms rising to wrap loosely around Beca’s neck once more. “Ugh, I really don’t want to, but you’re right.”

“Mm, I have a tendency to be,” Beca jokes, brows rising and falling in a way that compliments the smug smile still drawn across her lips.

They share another soft, delicate kiss, before Beca finally forces herself to take a step back, arms wrapping around Chloe’s waist to carefully lift her down from the cabinet. Her skirt is still risen, and Beca can’t help her small chuckle as she motions toward it. “You might want to fix that.”

“I was getting to it,” Chloe responds in a light tone, her hands lowering to position her skirt back in place. Beca assumes they’re going to exit the room, though Chloe reaches forward to grasp a fistful of Beca’s shirt, gently tugging her closer. Her lips ghost feather lightly against the brunette’s, and her whispered words cause that familiar aching to return. “You know, I’ve always wanted to do that. Sex with my girlfriend in an office closet.”

“Girlfriend?” Beca questions, her gaze taking in Chloe’s expression as she pulls just slightly back.

The redhead simply nods, her small smile natural, almost bashful in response. It’s a look Beca has never seen before, but that causes her heart to flutter, her stomach to twist with the feeling of a thousand butterflies. “Mm, that’s what I said.”

Beca wants to play it cool, to act like it’s no big deal, but she’s only fooling herself in doing so, and it’s clear that Chloe has already seen the way her cheeks have heated up, her teeth sinking gently into her lower lip. “Good to know.”

For a moment there, Beca had forgotten where exactly they were, but now they were faced with the task of returning to the office as if nothing had transpired, and Beca isn’t so sure her inner actress knows how to do that. But she has to try, and fortunately she has Chloe’s expert lead to follow.

“You go back first, I’ll head back in a couple minutes,” Chloe instructs, leaning forward to press a small kiss to the apple of Beca’s cheek. There it is again, that struggle to pull herself away, but Beca eventually does it, her stomach swirling with excitement and undeniable nerves as she makes her way out of the closet and back toward the office.

A part of her expects everybody to stare when she walks back in, as if they’re going to know exactly where she’s been, exactly what she was doing, but she’s met with busy coworkers doing their jobs, just like any other weekday, and Beca feels herself begin to relax as she heads for her desk, pulling out her seat and relaxing back into the rest.

People have returned from lunch by now, Mr. Pritchard included, and Beca’s heart almost stops when Chloe enters the room only moments behind her, with Mr. Pritchard calling her name.

“Chloe,” he greets, walking quickly toward her as she passes Beca’s desk on the way to her own. He knows. Beca is positive that he knows, and she braces herself for the impending chastisement. “How is everything going? Do you feel you’re settling in okay?”

Apparently, Chloe is much more composed than Beca, though that’s really not surprising. She meets Mr. Pritchard with a friendly smile, her head nodding and curls bobbing against her shoulders. “Everything’s going great, Mr. Pritchard.” She glances briefly toward Beca, then back to their boss. “Becky has been extremely helpful.”

The brunette has to bite on the inside of her cheek to keep herself from grinning, though her shoulders relax and she feels the weight of fear removing itself from her body.

“It’s Beca,” she says, clearing her throat. Both sets of eyes move toward her, and Beca shrugs her shoulder almost nonchalantly. “But I mean... Becky is fine too. Whatever.”

#beca mitchell #chloe beale #bechloe #bechloe fic #bechloe week #mine #mine:writing #going crazy when i'm with you

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littlebitoffanfic · 5 years

Text

Coffee - Naga x reader

Naga x reader Request: would you write a modern au for a naga where the reader works at a little coffee shop and the naga is snarky and sarcastic but one day makes the reader have an accident? Glancing at the clock, you smiled. You only had another 2 hours left of your shift and then you had a full four days off. Do you plan on being at all productive over the next four day? No. But you still couldn’t wait. Ringing through the order for the orc in front of you, you quickly got to work making it in a to-go cup before handing him it. He thanked you and left the café. Your co-worker Sally had went through the back to try sort out some of the stock which was fine because the last few hours were always quiet. And you could call on her if you needed to. You started to clean the coffee machine, knowing it would only need a wipe down at the end of the night when you heard the door open. you turned around, and your heart fell into your stomach. You knew the customer who entered. He came most days and he had a foul mood about him. Especially towards you. he seemed to snap a little more at you than he did the others who worked here. And you couldn’t say why. It wasn’t because you were the newest since that was Mark. It couldn’t be because you had ever got his order wrong since you knew it off the top of your head. You treated him very professionally, unlike William, who would joke about things and take jokes too far. You spent the first few months of this job wondering why he hated you so before coming to the conclusion that he must just not like you. The customer in question was a naga, part human and part snake. His kind were known for being a bit more easier to annoy than humans or orcs. His name was Rask, which you had got when he had left his wallet and you had dropped it through his door from the address on his cards. He never thanked you for doing this, or even acknowledged it. “same as normal?” You smile at him as he came up to the counter. he gave a single nod and you set to work making his coffee. Rask was about 7 foot tall with his tail normally about 3 foot on the floor to hold him up. He had striking red eyes which were more silted than humans. His nose was flatter with the nostrils more like slits again, but his mouth and ears were fairly similar to human features. His hair was jet black and a little longer than most guys you knew, falling about half way down to his shoulders. Like most naga, he wore tops but nothing to cover his tail which was black like his hair. But some sections were red, and the scales seemed to shimmer in the light. If he wasn’t so unkind, you would be willing to admit he was attractive. Pressing the top on the to-go cup, you held it out to him with a smile. He took it and went to a table at the side. Normally, it wasn’t allowed for customers with to-go cups to sit in, but he would normally stay for five minutes before going. One of the customer who were sitting up with back came up to the counter. She was an older woman so when she ordered another two teas, you said you would bring them over. making both of the quickly, you placed them both on the tray before walking out from behind the counter. But you didn’t see Rask had moved his tail out slightly from the table as he had sat down. Not until your foot caught on it and you tripped up. The first thing you felt was pain as you fell to the floor with a loud clatter. Both teapots smashed and the boiling liquid poured out onto your hands. That coupled with the impact of the floor knocked the wind out of you as you took a moment to react. But you weren’t quick enough. “God damn it. Stupid, stupid, idiot girl.” Rask growled as a moved out and away from the spillage. He must have got some of the water sprayed on his tail as well as you tripping over him. your hands and forearms were on fire as tears poured down your cheeks. You raised your hands and sat back on your knees, turing your palms up. You could see the skin was burnt on both hands but your left hand had a few cuts from the broken teapots. Blood was dripping down your hand as it pulsed with pain. “Are you really so stupid that you didn’t-“ Rasks insults were cut off as you let out a sob and pulled your hands against your chest. The two old ladies who had ordered the teas were getting to their feet but you were quicker. You scrambled to your feet, gasping for air as you arms shook, the searing pain making it hard to take a full breath. “[y/n]?” Rasks voice was soft, softer than you had ever heard it before. You saw him reach out a hand to you through your teary eyes but you backed away. Turning on your heel, you fled into the back. ------------time skip -------------- You stood in your kitchen, gently stirring your cup of tea. It had been a week since the accident and you had been given sick leave. Sally had ran to you when she heard the crash but you slipped out the back, heading straight to the hospital. Normally you would have just dealt with a burn on your own, but both your hands were scolded by boiling water along with a few open cuts. No, you needed help. They cleaned and bandaged you up, giving you cream for the burns. They said your hands would be sensitive and sore for a few weeks but should heal up nicely. Sally, who had been texting you consistent, stayed the first few days so she could help you. but once you were able to do most things by yourself, she returned to work. Your boss had given you 3-4 weeks sick leave, but you were pretty sure you could go back by the 3 week stage. Your phone buzzed and you picked it up, seeing it was the café. “Hello?” You answered, popping it on loud speaker as you sipped your coffee. “You gotta come back.” William laughed over the phone and you heard a few voices in the background. It was about closing time so they were probably finished. “Why?” you ask, knowing they wouldn’t ask you back before you were ready. “You know that naga? The one with the black hair?” Sally asks, obviously having pulled the phone away from William. “Yeah.” Your interest peaked. “hes been in every day since then, asking where you are. And, well, William here was winding him up. Said you quit and you weren’t ever coming back because of what he had said to you.” Sally said and you froze. The two older women had told Sally what he had said when you left, tsking as they did so. You knew William and Mark were livid when they had heard about it but you had reminded them he might have been hurt too. “And today he asked for your number!” William called over Sallys shoulder and you heard a ‘oft’, meaning she elbowed him in the stomach. “Wait, what?” You gasp, unable to believe what they were saying. “Yeah, he wants to talk to you. I think he feels bad or something.” Sally tells you, her voice giving away that she was probably bouncing up and down like a school girl. She was the only one you had entrusted your small crush on Rask to and then she told everyone else. “You didn’t give it, did you?” You ask, prepared to pull out the ‘employee confidentiality’ hand if needed. “No, I said I couldn’t give him it without your consent. But he left his number.” She said and you heard a rustle of paper. “Give me a minute.” You sign as you open your keypad on your phone before signalling for her to read you the number. Once you had it, you saved it under his name. “You gotta call me and tell me what he says!” Sally demanded and you rolled your eyes. “Hes probably just going to apologies. Don’t read too much into it.” You couldn’t help but smile to yourself. You quickly say your goodbyes before hanging up. You don’t know how long you stood, staring at his number. What would you say? What if he didn’t know your name and you had to introduce yourself as the idiot girl from the café? What if he didn’t answer? Would you leave a message? eventually, you shook your head, mumbled ‘fuck it’, and pressed call. you expected it to ring out and then you could relax, but after 2 rings, it was picked up. “Hello?” The voice belonging to Rask answered. “Hi, its [y/n], from the-“ You were about to say the name of the café when he cut you off. “yes, yes, [y/n].” He said, but not in an impatient way or trying to get you to speed up. He breathed your name like he had down when he realised you were hurt. “Sally said you wanted to talk to me?” You try to move the conversation on, unsure why your heart was hammering in your chest. “yes, yes, yes.” He stuttered over himself. You had never heard him speak like this. “I wanted to give my apologies for what happened that day. I didn’t mean what was said. And I am sorry for tripping you up.“ “Its okay. Thank you. I really appreciate it. And Im sorry if I got anything on you.” You smile, touched by his sincere apology. “Would you- Could I take you out for coffee or something?” Rask suddenly said, the words tumbling quickly from his mouth. “Oh, um, listen. William was just –“ You were about to say ‘pulling your leg’ but quickly changed it. “Messing about when he said I quit. Ive got sickness leave for my hands to heal. You don’t have to-“ “I want to. Please?” Rask said and you felt your knees going weak. How could you refuse. “Okay. Uh, how about tomorrow?” You ask, unable to stop the smile on your lips. “Yes, do you know the Coffee Bean? On Crown Street?” He asks. “You go to another coffee shop? Im hurt.” You laugh, trying to break the tension. It seemed to work as you heard him chuckle on the other end. You had never heard him laugh. Or even seen him give a genuine smile. You resolved to rectify that tomorrow. -----time skip ------------ He agreed to meet you at 3pm, since he would be finished his work before then. You stood outside the shop with your hands in your pockets. It was a cold day and even with your bandaged hands, you felt the chill. you glanced to the side and saw Rask coming round the corner. When you met his gaze, you smiled at him. He nodded gently as he approached. You wondered how he must deal with the coldness in his tail but you weren’t going to ask. He was wearing his normal suite with a scarf around his neck which you had only seen him wear a handful of times. “Good afternoon.” You smiled. “Im not a customer. You don’t have to greet me like that.” He hissed, making you jump a little. When he saw your reaction, he ducked his head. You felt your heart break a little. You thought this was going to be a nice afternoon, perhaps you could even get to know him. But apparently you were wrong. However, he was right. He wasn’t a customer. So you didn’t have to worry about talking back to him. “I know that. Would you prefer I say nothing at all?” You ask, raising an eyebrow at him. your response made him look up at you again and you saw a smirk pull on his thin lips. “Preferably not.” He said before signalling for you to go inside. it was easer if you went in front of him because of his tail. “What would you like?” He asked you as you both look up at the board. “Um, a hot chocolate would be nice.” You look to him for approval and he nods. “You should find us a seat.” He directs and you look around the nearly empty café. “Hmm, I don’t know. I cant see any.” You look back at Rask, faking a concerned look. His eyes dart around the place, obviously confused by your comments before he catches on and chuckles a little. smiling, you were glad you got your goal out of the way as you made your way over to a little booth in the back. it was by the small fire which was lit so you hoped it would keep you both warm. It definitely felt strange seeing him outside of work. It was like seeing a co-worker who you never see outside work. You pulled off your coat and draped it over the chair before walking closer to the fire. Glancing over your shoulder, you saw Rask approaching with a tray which he placed on the table. He set your hot chocolate on one side and his coffee on the other before sliding into the seat. You returned to the table and slid into your own, reaching out for the cup when you heard a hiss. Jumping, you looked up and saw Rask was staring at your bandaged hands. Well, they weren’t completely bandaged. Your forearm up to your fingers were completely bandaged. Both your thumbs were as were several of your other fingers. “What?” You ask, confused by his reaction. “You shouldn’t be picking anything up.” He snaps, and suddenly you could see the distress in his eyes. He looked panicked. “Its fine. They have to stay bandaged to avoid infection. They are actually mending really well.” You smile, reaching and picking up the cup to take a sip. “The first few days were bad but Sally came and helped me. Now its just a waiting game.” Upon seeing you were fine, he takes a sip of his coffee. “How is it?” You ask, nodding to his cup. “alright. Not as good as you make it.” He grumbles, frowning a little but taking another sip nonetheless. You couldn’t help but smile at his comment. “I think that’s the first compliment you’ve ever give me.” You smile, raising an eyebrow at him. “Don’t let it go to your head.” He quips back, making you laugh. As you and Rask settled into your seats, you found it rather easy to speak to him. He was smart and liked classical literate. You both spoke of your favourite authors and Rask seemed impressed by your knowledge and favourite books and after a few deep conversations about the meaning because scenes and the complex characters, you realised it was dark out. But you didn’t mind, and neither did Rask as he offered you another drink. You pointed out the café would probably close soon since it was late. You had always had problems reading Rasks emotions, but now you could swear he seemed dishearten by your rejection of his offer. So you decided to counter it. “Do you want to come back to mine? I’ll make you a proper coffee?” you ask with a smirk as you eye his half drunk coffee. you saw the confusion in his eyes as he stared at you, but he nodded. The two of you left the café and you lead the way back to your place. You fumbled with your keys so Rask took them gently from your hand and unlocked your front door, motioning for you to step inside first. He really was a gentleman. You made him his coffee and the two of you sat on your sofa, continuing to talk about literature as well as moving onto favourite films. You ended up sitting rather close, his tail ending up lying around your feet and your thigh against the top of his tail. everything was going lovely until a beeping noise came from his breast pockets of his suite. He dug it out, muttering something about work and answered the call. From what you could make out, they needed him to come for a meeting about new contract that had to be signed right away. You could tell from the way his eyes flicked to you and how his tail felt like it tensed that he didn’t want to leave, but his work insisted it was urgent. He hung up and pushed himself off the sofa. “Im sorry.” He mumbled, ducking his head as if he were embarrassed or annoyed. “Its okay. Ive been called in last minute as well.” You shrug, showing that you didn’t take offence to him having to run quickly. he looked at you, and you swore you could see sadness in his eyes as he turned towards to the door. “Rask?” You asked, following him to the door. But he turned quicker than you expected and you nearly bumped into him. You lost your footing on his tail and stumbled. The fear of the pain as you hit the floor verse the pain if you used your hands to catch yourself seemed equally unappealing. But you didn’t need to worry. Arms wrapped around you and Rask caught you before you fell, pulling you against his chest. You let out a small squeeze of surprised as you looked up and seeing he was staring down at you, wide eyed. his eyes darted to your lips, but then back to your eyes as he seemed to be in some sort of inner conflict with himself. he ducked his head down, stopping millimetres from your lips as if testing the water. Or waiting for you. You close the distance, pressing your lips to his. his lips were soft and cold to touch, but pleasant enough. He moved his lips against you’re the second he realised you had kissed him back. His kiss reflect him to a t. mature and cold but with hints of passion and desire. You felt his whole shake as he pulled you closer, like he couldn’t stand another moment without you against him. You rested your hands on his chest, feeling how his heart hammered beneath his skin. Eventually, it was too much as you had to break the kiss for air. “I always thought you didn’t like me.” You breathe as he pulls back from the kiss. “I wouldn’t try see you every day if I didn’t like you.” Rask hissed, his voice low and sending a shiver down your spin. “im glad you come to see me.” You smile, and you feel Rask relax. You didn’t even notice he had been so tense but apparently waiting to see your reaction was killing him. He leaned in, gently pressing his lips against your own in a more soothing kiss that seemed less controlled and stiff. This time, you allowed your lips to move against his with no questions, simply enjoying the feeling and sensation. Until his phone buzzed again. Rask growled into the kiss, pulling himself back to grab the phone out his coat and answering the call which was again from his work. “Im just coming.” He half snarled down the line, the person on the other end telling him to hurry up before hanging up. He huffed through his nose and shoved the phone back in to his pocket. “Since you’ve been having some bother with William, you could always come here tomorrow for your coffee?” You suggested, tilting your head to the side as you always let out a giggle at the way his snapped to meet your own. He nodded quickly, a full three times. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him agree to something so eagerly. You lean up and press a quick kiss to his lips, almost hating that he had to leave right this second. You could easily get used to feeling his arms around you and his tail coiled around your feet. but he had to leave, and Rask seemed just as annoyed about that fact as you did. he opened your door and you held it open, waving him goodbye to him before retreating back into your warm house. you felt like you were walking on air or clouds as you drifted back to the living room. You fell back into your couch, grabbing your phone and about to call Sally and gush over the best kiss you had had in your life only for something to catch your eye from the side. Rasks scarf. You bit your lip as you opened a message to send to him. “Did you leave your scarf here by accident or on purpose so you have to come back tonight?” You send. You see it was read almost straight away and your phone pinged with the response. “And if it was a bit of both?” He replied. “Then message me when your 5 minutes away and I’ll have a coffee ready for you when you get here. Enjoy your meeting.” You reply. then you open your call log and call Sally, putting her on loud speaker so you could tidy up while you gushed to Sally over your news. Not an hour later, you got a message from Rask, saying he was just on your street. This would be an interesting night and you might both need coffee.

#naga x reader #modern au #naga

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emotionsofthesoul · 5 years

Text

Chapter 33 _ Abre Los Ojos

A month had passed since their New York adventure. Midterms were in full swing and both girls had been busy completing their different projects. It had become a bit more difficult to spend time together as due dates were approaching but they always found a way. Sometimes it was the simple act of meeting for a quick lunch break at their halfway point or Valentina stopping by Juliana’s work to bring her a quick dessert.

Juliana’s birthday was approaching quickly. She had told her girlfriend she didn’t want to do anything but to sleep in and enjoy the evening together — something Valentina was very much on board with after all the time and effort they’d put into their school work. Nonetheless she had a surprise for Juliana on the day of her birthday.

When her birthday finally arrived they did as Juliana had asked, they got to sleep in. The girls went to their afternoon classes and met back up at Juliana’s in the evening. Valentina commented that they should make Juliana a cake to celebrate properly and Juliana decided to pick up the cake supplies on her way home.

By the time the cake was ready the girls had listened to Hozier’s newest album in its entirety. As the first track began to play again they paused it so Juliana could cut the cake.

“Babe, make a wish!” Valentina said as she lit the candles.

Juliana laughed at the idea of blowing out candles when it was just the two of them. Nonetheless she did as instructed and made her wish. She was never big on birthdays but she knew Valentina was and she genuinely enjoyed spending hers with Valentina. It suddenly dawned on her that this was her second birthday with Valentina in her life.

When the candles were blown out Valentina clapped and hugged her girlfriend. She leaned in to whisper. “I have something for you, chiquita.” As she spoke she reached into her purse pulling out a thin rectangular box and hid it behind her. “Close your eyes, Juls.”

Juliana did as Valentina asked and Valentina took her hand placing the box into it. “Open them.”

Following instructions, Juliana opened her eyes to find a beautifully decorated box. She had no idea what could be in there but she knew whatever it was, was a gift she’d love. She removed the perfectly tied bow and opened the box.

Inside the box was a small red leather bracelet with an engraving on it and a card underneath it. Upon further inspection Juliana realized the bracelet said her name in a beautiful cursive with the word Firenze to the left of the name and Italia on the right. Her eyes lit up knowing Valentina put a lot of thought into her gift. She looked up at Valentina and before she could say anything Valentina motioned towards the card that was still in the box.

She lifted the card with a curious look on her face as she read it: Italy over Thanksgiving break?

While Juliana read the card Valentina observed her every reaction. They had talked about Florence being Juliana’s dream vacation and it was something Valentina always kept in mind.

“Are you serious?” Juliana asked already knowing the answer.

“Only if you want to.” Valentina responded placing a loose strand of hair behind Juliana’s ear.

Juliana leaned in and gave Valentina a thankful kiss. “I’d love to go but I can’t afford Italy right now and I don’t want you paying for the entire thing…”

“Juls, it’s not a problem. Travel expenses would be covered, private jet remember? Plus Hope and I have an apartment there so no hotel expenses either, all you have to do is say yes. We can even invite the girls and make it a girls trip if you want.” Valentina said.

Juliana shook her head and chuckled. “Of course you have an apartment in the city of my dreams. You really thought this out didn’t you?”

Valentina nodded her head in a childish way causing another laugh to erupt from her girlfriend’s lips.

“God, why are you so cute! Okay, I just have to talk to my parents and Renata about it. Ask the girls and see what they say. If I get the days, I’m down.” Juliana said not putting up a fight because she really wanted to go, this was a once in a lifetime opportunity she felt she couldn’t turn down.

The rest of the evening the couple relaxed and took turns playing music. They eventually agreed on bachata and danced the night away.

“Feliz cumpleaños, Juls.” Valentina said as the clock read 11:15pm, indicating Juliana’s birth time. They closed the distance and began slow dancing, ignoring the fast beat of the song that was playing. “I’m grateful to have you in my life and I love you. From you head to your tiny toes.”

The following weeks were filled with trip preparations. Juliana had talked to her boss, who gladly agreed to give her the week. Andrea, had no problem covering her shifts. Juliana spoke to her parents, telling them she wouldn’t be in town for thanksgiving but they were more excited for their daughter having one of her biggest and oldest dreams come true than they were sad. They knew this was her dream trip and they wouldn’t be the ones to stop her by making her feel bad about missing a holiday.

When the day finally arrived, they hopped on the jet with the rest of the girls and two body guards Leon always required to be on the plane when Valentina traveled out of town. Penelope had never been to Italy so she too was very excited to take this trip. Her moms didn’t want to let her go at first but Josie convinced them saying she’d take full responsibility of their daughter and making sure she kept them updated throughout the trip. She promised them to the cheesiest of pictures, something Penelope wasn’t too happy about.

“Lizzie, you dad said to send your mom the itinerary and your location.” Hope said as she buckled her seatbelt.

“Why did he tell you and not us?” Josie asked curiously.

Hope simply shrugged her shoulders and said, “I don’t know but Ric just told me to give Lizzie his message so I did. I guess they wanna keep an eye on us.”

“I guess my parents went much easier on me than yours. Who knew Dr. Saltzman would be more paranoid than my moms.” Penelope said grabbing Josie’s hand as they settled into their seats.

Juliana saw the interaction of the other two couples and she smiled before adding, “And here I grew up thinking my parents were intense.”

The twins turned and said simultaneously, “Your parents trust Val though, they know you’re safe with her.”

Hope and Penelope gasped. After the gasp Hope was the one to speak up, “Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Our parents trust you, but they clearly don’t trust us.” Lizzie said pointing at herself and Josie.

The girls continued to bicker for a few more minutes. Once the pilot prepared them for take off the girls began eating snacks they packed and decided to take a nap to not get hit with jet lag too hard. Something that wasn’t too easy for Juliana the first few hours but eventually she too fell asleep, letting her head rest on top of Valentina’s who had been fast asleep an hour into the flight.

Upon arrival in Florence they were picked up by a driver and taken to Hope and Valentina’s apartment. The entire 20 minute ride Juliana eyes were stuck out the window, taking everything in. She gave Valentina’s hand a squeeze as the car came to stop. Once in the apartment they all took turns showering and getting ready for the day. They arrived in the morning so they had the entire day ahead to do whatever Juliana wanted.

“This is your birthday trip after all, Juliana. You decide what we do, especially today since it’s day one.” Penelope said as she laid on Josie’s lap while the other four girls sat across from them on another couch.

“Well first of all, we can’t come to Italy and not have spaghetti or pizza so those are a must this week. I want to visit Il Duomo for sure, then Ponte Vecchio which I noticed is just around the corner, then we have to visit the real Statue of David and other Michelangelo work, and last but not least take a tour of the town.” Juliana said as she played with Valentina’s hair who was cuddled into her.

Hope turned to Juliana with a confused look on her face, “Wait that’s it? You just wanna go to church? Why is this city your dream city again? There’s so much more to see.”

“It’s not the just the church, Hope. I want to explore and submerge myself into the culture, enjoy the city to the fullest. This is gonna sound dumb but when I was 10 I heard the song That’s Amore by Dean Martin and that song got me really interested in Italy so I began doing my research and one of the cities I fell in love with was this one. There’s no specific reason, it’s just the one I wanted to see the most out of any in the world. A close second is Rome but Firenze has been in my heart for 9 years.” Juliana said trying to not sound defensive.

Hearing those words Valentina sat up straight saying, “Wait really?” As she turned to look at Juliana. “I didn’t know that was what made you fall in love with Italy!” She said with a huge smile on her face.

��There’s only one thing left to do then!” Josie said as she took her phone out, “Let’s play your song!”

The girls sang along to That’s Amore waiting for Juliana to join in. After the second “tippy-tippy-tay” they all stayed silent looking to Juliana with expectant eyes.

“Fine fine fine!” Juliana said throwing her hands up in the air getting up from the couch pulling Valentina up with her. They began to dance as Juliana sang dramatically, “When you dance down the street with a cloud at your feet, you’re in love.”

The rest of the girls joined in on the dramatic dancing and singing. When they reached the second “gay tarantella” Penelope stopped and made finger guns at Josie as she sang, “lucky fella!” Causing the entire group to burst into fits of laughter.

Once the song came to a close the girls decided to go find a pizza place. On the way to the pizzeria the girls walked across Ponte Vecchio and Valentina made sure to take pictures of Juliana, this was a trip she refused to let Juliana forget.

“I can’t believe I just crossed that bridge. I still can’t believe I’m here, Val. This is insane.” Juliana said loud enough so that only Valentina could hear.

“You’re adorable you know that? Let’s go get you your pizza, mi niña bonita.” Valentina said as she wrapped her arm around Juliana’s shoulders.

They each ordered a personal pizza. Penelope and Juliana were confused when the server brought the silverware to the table along with their pizzas.

“What are the forks and knives for?” Penelope whispered to the group as she observed the other tables.

“I think they’re optional… that table over there is eating the pizza in pieces with the utensils while that other table is just going ham on that pizza like we do back in the states.” Juliana said still not sure.

“Well, at this particular pizzeria you can do either or. They already precut them so the client can choose but there are some other pizza shops that require utensils. When we were kids, Vale went to eat a slice like we do back home and her mother nodded disapprovingly and explained that the pizza was whole because here we needed to cut it up and eat it like a piece of cake and we wouldn’t eat cake with our hands.” Hope said matterafactly.

Penelope looked from her pizza to Hope and back to her pizza, “Okay… I guess we’re cutting it then.” She said shrugging her shoulders and began to dig in.

After they each finished their pizza the majority of the girls sat back in their chairs, completely full.

“Who’s up for some gelato?” Lizzie asked.

“You have room for more?!” Juliana asked dumbfounded.

Lizzie let out a laugh, “it’s Italy, Juliana! There’s authentic gelato!”

Valentina nodded her head in agreement. She was too full to speak though.

“Let’s go for a walk and then we can think about it, okay Lizzie?” Josie said getting up from the table.

As the girls walked around the city, they walked towards Piazzale Degli Uffizi wanting to see the art and the view of the Ponte Vecchio. After each getting pictures of the bridge they walked towards the big building with the clock tower. There they stood admiring the different statues and Juliana admired the replica Statue of David that just stood outside of the Palazzo Vecchio.

They continued to walk around the area until they reach a glove store. Lizzie was the first to enter, as the other girls followed. Juliana had promised her mom she’d bring her back some leather gloves so she decided to get some for her mom and after feeling them she decided to grab a pair for herself. She had never felt anything as smooth and beautiful as those gloves and she couldn’t believe they were as affordable as they were. After paying she mentally checked off her mom’s gift from her gift list.

Once they finished shopping at the glove store they headed towards a vender a few streets down. He sold scarves and leather trinkets.

“Do you think Ric would like this?” Hope said as she held up a red leather bracelet.

Lizzie rolled her eyes, “Why do you keep calling my dad Ric? Why can’t you be like Penelope and call him Dr. Saltzman?”

“Maybe because I grew up with him as a second father figure and I’ve been calling him that since I was 10? Why don’t you like that I get along with your dad? Every significant other would love for their parents to approve of their partner but you hate it.” Hope said putting the bracelet back.

“She’s just jealous of your relationship with my dad. That’s why she didn’t like you when we were kids.” Josie said shrugging her shoulders knowing Hope already knew that.

“Liz, Alaric will never be my dad, I have one. We have to work passed this. You know it wasn’t my decision to move in with you guys. I wanted nothing more than to move in with Val but at the time it wasn’t an option and your parents opened their doors.” Hope said getting irritated that Lizzie was still bringing this up.

“I don’t want to do this right now, can we just enjoy our trip.” Lizzie said looking away at something on the cart.

Meanwhile Juliana felt awkward hearing their discussion. She felt like she was intruding by simply being there.

Sensing Juliana get a bit tense Valentina leaned in to whisper, “Don’t worry about them, it’s fine. That’s always the thing that causes trouble for those two. Lizzie doesn’t really like knowing that her dad and Hope are close because it brings up bad memories for her. He focused on Hope a lot as a kid and Lizzie has always resented that. There was misunderstanding with the twins and Hope was suddenly the focus of Lizzie’s rage because it was easier to hate Hope than it was to hate Josie.” Valentina explained, loud enough for only Juliana to hear, as they looked through the scarves.

Picking out a light pink one and trying it on, Juliana nodded in understanding. “The dad thing makes sense then. But then how did those two fall for each other then?” Juliana asked Valentina quietly.

“I’ll never understand how that happened to be honest. As they say, between love and hate is a very thin line and those two draw their own lines on the daily.” Valentina said with a chuckle.

Penelope kissed Josie on the cheek before speaking up, “Okay you can discuss your daddy issues later girls, we have a church to get to!”

Lizzie threw daggers with her eyes at Penelope but didn’t respond.

“Why do you wanna go to church Juliana! I don’t get it!” Hope said as she paid for the red bracelet ignoring Lizzie’s eye roll.

Juliana laughed before answering. “I’ll pull a Hozier and start singing Take Me To Church, if I need to.” Juliana said smiling. “I just need to see it okay, we don’t even have to go in if you guys don’t want to I just want to see it up close.”

“Let the girl dream, sheesh!” Penelope said wrapping her arm around Josie’s shoulder.

Valentina interlocked her fingers with Juliana’s as they made their way to the church. “Why do you wanna see it so bad, baby? It’s just a church, I know you’re catholic but this isn’t event the Vatican.” She said without looking at Juliana.

Juliana brought Valentina to a complete stop and blinked multiple times before speaking, “Valentina, that’s the thing, it’s not just a church. It’s a cathedral! Do you know how long these take to build? This one took 140 years. Years, Valentina. Not months, years!” She said as she spoke animatedly with her hands. “When I was little I decided I was gonna get married here, obviously things have changed and that’s not possible but I’ve studied this church for so long. I know so many useless facts about it, I’m in its city, I need to see it. Okay? Just let me have this moment please. I know the girls don’t care but I do and this is my favorite church in the entire world Val.” She said disappointed that Valentina didn’t get it.

“Okay.” Valentina said softly while nodding her head.

They walked another block before the church came into full view. Penelope held her breathe. She’d been quiet the entire way because coming from a middle class family she understood this being a dream come true for Juliana but she had no idea how beautiful this church could be.

“Oh my god… that’s 400,000 tons of beauty. I… I…” Juliana said just above a whisper as she took it all in with a deep sigh.

They stayed there observing the cathedral for a while before Valentina noticed a rogue tear streaming down Juliana’s face. She didn’t say anything she simply brought her into a side hug and kissed the top of her head. This only caused Juliana break into tears.

At the sight of that Valentina handed Hope her camera in order to have both hands free and brought Juliana in for a tight embrace. “It’s okay, baby, shh, you’re okay.” Valentina whispered continuously as she rubbed Juliana’s back in a comforting circular motion.

“I never actually believed I’d ever get to see it in person. Thank you for this Val, you don’t know what this means to me but it’s definitely a dream come true.” Juliana said after crying for a few minutes with her face buried into Valentina’s chest. “This is magical and it’s something I’ll never forget.” She said, still in a soft low voice.

“Let’s go inside, yeah?” Valentina said drying Juliana’s tears.

“We don’t have to, it’s fine.” Juliana said as her body shook from the aftermath of all of those emotions pouring out.

“We’re already here might as well enjoy the complete experience.” Lizzie said rolling her eyes playfully. “Plus you can tell us all about your random church facts.” She said adding a wink.

“Okay well then before we enter, if you turn around and you see those bronze doors over there?” Juliana said pointing that two beautifully crafted doors, “those are considered the ‘The Gate to Paradise’ and Michelangelo was actually the one who dubbed them that. They were created in a contest by a 23 year old in 1401”

Valentina smiled at the fact that Juliana just spouted out. She felt that with Juliana they most likely didn’t need a tour guide because she would know and be able to tell them anything there was to know about the city but nonetheless if she wanted a tour, who was Valentina to keep her from getting one.

Once inside the cathedral Juliana did the sign of the cross and the girls told her to explore around a bit and take it all in but she insisted they go together. Every now and then they’d stop to see something and Juliana would tell them facts here and there about different pieces of the church. They spent around 2 hours in the cathedral before finally heading out.

Lizzie insisted it was time for gelato. Hope walked them to her favorite gelato place in the city where she introduced the group to the owner in a perfect Italian accent. As a child Hope and her parents spent many vacations in Florence. It was her father’s favorite city. The Mikaelson’s own a beautiful family home in Asisi but Hope and her father loved Florence. When her parents passed she was the only heir so once she turned 18 she and Valentina went half and half on an apartment in the city.

“So for your first time being in Italy how are you liking it so far, Pen?” Juliana asked Penelope as they waited for their girlfriends to join them at their table.

Penelope turned to look at Juliana and simply smiled. “You know, I never expected I’d get to travel like this.” She paused. “I think you and I have been dealt the same cards. We met these beautiful girls and fell in love and we didn’t care that they have money, we just cared that their hearts were kind and were offered to us on a silver platter. All of this,” she gestured with her free hand, “wasn’t in my plans. I could never truly afford trip like this right now. You and I, we get each other because we come from similar economic backgrounds. They don’t really get it when it comes to us being amazed of a city like this, they’re used to this lifestyle, they’re used to traveling. I don’t even know how many countries Josie’s been to, if I’m honest. So I feel just as overwhelmed as you to see such wonders like the Duomo because never in a million years did I think I’d step foot in this beautiful country.” Penelope finished just at the rest of the group began to approach them.

“What are you two chatting about?” Valentina asked wrapping her arms around Juliana and giving her a kiss on the left cheek before resting her chin on the girl’s shoulder.

Penelope shrugged and Juliana took that as her cue to keep their conversation between them. “We were talking about how beautiful the cathedral was and how we were so amazed with all the beautiful details.”

“Yeah it truly was something special. I never knew all those facts. I’m really intrigued to know what other fun facts you know about this city.” Valentina said as she grabbed a seat across from Juliana.

“I still can’t believe they hired a guy with no experience and a secret plan to build the dome and it actually worked. That was ballsy of him.” Josie said as she sat down across from Penelope.

As Hope and Lizzie joined them they all discussed the little tidbits of the cathedral and Juliana was happy they ended up liking it after all.

The rest of the week was enjoyed exploring the city and eating as much pasta, pizza, and gelato as they could. The night before their departure they found a club and decided to enter and dance the night away as their final act of celebration.

Lizzie got each of the girls a shot to kick off the night. Juliana declined so Penelope took it for her.

“Damn, P. I don’t know how you can drink that. I can smell how strong that is from here.” Juliana said cringing in her seat.

Josie placed her hand on Penelope’s thigh, “we have a drinking game called Shot Jenga and Penny here sucks at it so she’s used to it.”

Raising an eyebrow and cracking a smirk Juliana took a sip from her lemonade.

“Care to dance?” Hope said offering a hand to Juliana, while Lizzie offered Penelope a hand leaving Josie and Valentina with no choice but themselves.

Juliana turned to Valentina almost asking for permission to which Valentina simply nodded. “Okay.” She said as she accepted.

As all the girls reached the dance floor the song California Girls came on causing them all to burst into laughter and taking it as a sign that it’d be a good night. After the first song they each went back to dancing with their own partners. Valentina wrapped her arms around Juliana’s neck while the other girl wrapped her arms around the taller girl’s waist.

“Thank you for this week. It��s been the most beautiful and memorable week of my entire life.” Juliana said as the girls leaned their heads against each other.

“There’s no need to thank me, hermosa. I’m glad I was able to witness this week. I’d been here far too many times to count but I’d never seen it in the way you showed it to us. I think even the tour guide was amazed with your knowledge.” Valentina said with a slight giggle.

Bringing her in for a tender kiss, Juliana closed her eyes smiling into the kiss. Juliana knew in that moment she wanted to spend the rest of her life with the girl she held tightly.

#juliantina #juliana valdes #valentina carvajal #forever #Forever update #forever ch33 #chapter 33

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blazingcobaltx · 4 years

Text

20 cents per minute (complete)

Fandom(s): CANAAN, 428: Shibuya Scramble Characters: Canaan, Osawa Maria, Minorikawa Minoru (minor) Words: 1432 A/N: I’M FREEEE, FINALLYYYYYYYY. Split into 7 chapters on AO3/FF, but I’m publishing it at once here. Chapter 4 contains minor 428 spoilers. ________________________________________________________________

Between their vastly different lives, the phone calls became a constant.

7-2006

They exchanged phone numbers when Maria was about to leave town.

Obviously at Maria's initiation, but the young Canaan didn't oppose it. She was drawn to the girl; the prospect of more contact between them was one that pleased her. The few days spent together left her with a warm feeling she hadn’t felt in a long time.

Maria is the first non-work contact in her phone. Her name is surrounded by many others - clients, onetime associates, various middlemen - but those are nothing more than dull greys, greens or browns with occasional dashes of blue. Some leave an uncomfortable buzz on her tongue, a reminder to never fully trust anyone.

But this contact - ‘Maria Osawa’, followed by plus-eighty-one and just the right string of numbers - shines a bright yellow. The numbers vibrate near perfectly in her ears and the ripples of colour prickle her skin soothingly.

A change of the regular. But definitely a welcome change.

8-2006

Maria called a few weeks later, when she was already back in Japan. The speed Canaan answered the phone with might have been startling to some.

"Maria?"

"Ah, Canaan! I'm so glad you picked up!"

Turns out Maria didn't expect her to answer; she figured Canaan was busy with some 'errand'. In turn, Canaan never expected to be called back so soon, even though Maria had promised she would.

The bubbly girl tells her about the rest of the trip: The (super difficult) travel back to the (amazing) capital, her (amazingly bizarre) encounter with a fortune teller who only saw a blank white in her future, which was "super weird!", and her (super long) trip back to Japan. Overall it was an "amazing!" journey.

Canaan is not doing much throughout the phone conversation (which lasted about an hour). In her apartment she sits on the bed, walks around, tucks her phone between her head and neck to pack her bag, but mostly she just listens with a smile.

It's nice, a phone call like this. She hasn't had this before. Her Japanese friend is recollecting about her vacation and all she has to do is sit back and let the girl do her thing. It's different than those calls with some gruffy man giving her instructions for the next job, or the CIA agent (also Japanese but not a friend) updating her on the woman with the tattoo just like hers.

Those are fast, full of essential information, and sometimes overwhelming. But this is pleasant, slow, and despite the amount of information does not feel overwhelming. She listens silently, and whatever she hears goes right into its own designated location: Information about Maria.

"So, what about you, Canaan? What have you done these past weeks?"

Eh? She did not expect any questions about herself.

1-2007

At some point, Canaan could expect a call from Maria every two weeks. The topics ranged from everything to nothing. Activities of the day, preferences; the conversations were scattered and often with random questions ("what's your shoe size?") in between. But neither of them minded. There was no other purpose to the conversations than getting to know each other and just talking.

Maria changes numbers and sends Canaan a text. Filled with smiling faces and some kind of excitement, the message is so Maria that it warms Canaan’s heart. Canaan, on the contrary, is constantly switching phones; sometimes for safety, sometimes because they do not survive the tumble of the battlefield. Maria never fails to be surprised when the unknown numbers she answers have her “good friend Canaan!” on the other end.

Between their vastly different lives, the phone calls became a constant.

4-2008

The plane lands after six hours. The young mercenary could hurry, but only doom awaited her: Maria was dead, the Ua virus scattered all over Tokyo, and the Snake retreated back into its shroud.

At least, if Canaan had to imagine a flawlessly-conceived scenario befitting the intellect of the Snake’s leader, it would be something like that.

But the plan was fouled: She is on time, the outbreak was stopped, and Maria is not dead. On the contrary - her shallow breathing interrupted by uncontrollable sobs told Canaan she was full of life.

Perhaps the girl would survive, and perhaps Canaan could tell herself that she would. With a new resolution to fight, Canaan ends the call and moves towards her prey.

8-2010 (1)

The sun shines brightly on the city today. Although its heat can reach high intensities during peak hours, the soft breeze provided by the Huangpu river makes it welcoming to stay outside. The circumstances could not have been better for ice cream.

A spoon clinks on the table when Maria finishes her sundae. She fixes her gaze on her companion, who is still taking modest bites from the sugary delight.

"Why haven't you called since you left?"

Spoon in mouth, Canaan meets Maria’s gaze. The question is dropped quite bluntly, and Canaan senses the shift in emotion from her friend.

"I lost your number."

Maria… Doesn’t exactly believe that. But she knows better than to press. Something about Canaan’s demeanor during her visit two years prior gave off the vibe that she had unfinished business to attend somewhere.

"Well, doesn’t matter now,” she shrugs off her own dwelling, “Give me your phone now."

Canaan retrieves the device from her pocket and obediently hands it to her friend. Some clicks later and Maria’s own cell phone can be heard ringing in her bag.

“Alright, I got your number again. Now promise me you will remember mine,” Maria’s gaze turn cold, “or else.”

Propping a hand under her chin, Canaan eyes the numbers on her screen really pensively. A noise of wonder escapes from her, and she returns Maria’s glare with a sarcastic gleam of her own. “Like this?”

Immediately, Maria breaks back into a smile, “Perfect!”

. . .

The daze from the impact cannot overtake her. The tight grip on her hair throws off her senses, but then she hears Canaan’s voice - the woman has acquired her phone.

As the clouds dissipate from her eyes, tears of remorse threaten to spill.

8-2010 (2)

Minorikawa rummages through Maria's bag until his hand finds what it needs. He flips it open and searches her contacts for the entry he’s looking for. As he presses 'call' and holds the phone to his ear, a scowl marks his face when he hears the one thing he did not want to:

"The number you have dialed is no longer in service."

9-2012

The darkroom is tiny and stuffy, but it is wholly hers.

The newest additions to her portfolio hang from the washing line to dry. Tokyo, Yokohama, Saitama. Her latest jobs have led her to these urban jungles in an attempt to disentangle them. The unique lens she presented on Shanghai has made magazines jump at her to recreate that magic. But Maria is sure it was a one-time thing, face turning into a grimace when some of the developed photos show their true appearance.

She needs some motivation. Turning to her right, she withdraws a box prodding from the shelves. Her Shanghai exposition.

Browsing through the pictures, Maria feels herself reliving the weeks that alternated serenity and despair. These pictures tell a story that is only known by those who lived it. Visitors were left fascinated by the pieces of the puzzle they were presented, unable to put into words why the woman with the white hair was such a stark contrast from the scenery.

Maria eyes the white-haired woman with a solemn smile. It’s been two years now. Although she kept hoping for a message initially, Maria knew she couldn’t sit still and wait forever. She had to keep moving forward, following her own way, until their paths would cross again at the middle of the road.

The digital clock chiming on her desk breaks her thoughts. 7 PM.

Sighing at the days gone, Maria begins her preparation to leave. There is a faint buzzing she hears that she ascribes to the company above her renovating their bathrooms. This premonition is invalidated when Maria actually catches her bag shaking erratically.

Rapidly she scrummages through it for the offender. The phone display reads two missed calls from a number she doesn’t recognise - but it is foreign.

Maria’s skin freezes and burns, excitement and fear overtaking her simultaneously. Could this be it?

Trembling with nerves, she dials the number on her way out. Her ‘hello?’ surely betrays the shakiness in her voice. The reply comes just as the door locks shut, the heavy slam an echo of Maria’s heartbeat when she identifies the voice.

“I’m on my way.”

#CANAAN #428: shibuya scramble #osawa maria #minorikawa minoru #fanfiction #reposting to see if it will appear in the tags without the external links #again just read it on ao3 #stuffy.mine #cobalt writes stuff #kanamari #edit: IT WORKED

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rinusagitora · 5 years

Text

All very ghoulish (2/10)

Fandom: Bleach

Characters: Karin Kurosaki, Ichigo Kurosaki, Rukia Kuchiki, Kisuke Urahara, Momo Hinamori, Izuru Kira, Tessai Tsukabishi, Ururu Tsumugiya, Tier Harribel, Kenpachi Zaraki, Genryuusai Yamamoto, Toushirou Hitsugaya, Masaki Kurosaki, Mayuri Kurotsuchi, Nemu Kurotsuchi, Yuzu Kurosaki

Pairings: minor KiraHina

Words: 6,100+

Summary: Monster!AU collab w/ @back-in-a-bit. SFW version; Chaos overtakes London, and Karin undergoes a strange procedure.

AO3: works/16307414/chapters/49021901#workskin (NSFW)

Momo Hinamori felt like she rode roller coasters more often than not.

For the last four decades, she was Sousuke Aizen's loyal wife, and then only two years ago, he was incarcerated for being one evil son of a bitch, and she hadn't gotten back on her feet since then. Her nightmares persisted. Her ribs still hurt, even though she healed months ago. It was very much like he leached on her bones.

Momo Hinamori was once a monster with serrated teeth and a fire in her core. Presently, she was just embers, coddled in her new husband's mink coat and bottle-fed with packs and packs of cigarettes.

Thankfully, strip clubs allowed indoor smoking. She was never caught without something made of nicotine and ordinarily poisonous chemicals between her lips. Their invoices came in clean like linen and were filed strongly smelling like tobacco.

Still, Shinji pet her hair like a cat, or his child, even though she stank and looked at him like he was a cannibal.

“You should go home tonight, sweetie,” he said. “You’ve done more than enough for the girls tonight. Go back home to your husband.”

She smiled. “Okay. Thank you, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Momo gathered her purse and coat, headed outside, and she hailed a taxi on the street. "Caridge Park Apartments, please," she said.

"Caridge Park," the driver copied. "Care if I listen to the radio?"

"Go ahead."

Momo's head laid against the glass. A news station turned on. Momo didn't care much for the news, so she tuned it out and instead fiddled with her phone.

She received a text message over Kik from a family friend, Nemu Kurotsuchi. Gin Ichimaru had critically injured her husband Izuru when they defected and attempted to destroy the Seireitei coven. Nemu used her magic to heal him. Izuru and Nemu were good friends ever since, almost like father and daughter. Momo was fond of Nemu as well. While they only spoke in private, Nemu was a brilliant, sweet young woman, and it wasn't uncommon for them to text back and forth.

Nemu's text worried Momo, however. Nemu had only sent and apology.

The sun was just over the horizon. The speaker mentioned an explosion at a call center, the call center her dear brother worked at, and it felt like her guts dislodged. It felt like her teeth were knocked out all over again.

"I-I'm sorry, can you turn that off? I need to make a call," Momo said.

"Sure thing."

Momo quickly dialed Toushirou and it immediately went to voicemail. Momo swore time stopped. Her and Toushirou weren't close, not like when they were kids, but she loved him enough to think about him every day. She called her husband next. She didn't even bother with salutations. "My brother's workplace just blew up," she croaked.

"Oh my God," Izuru said over the receiver. "Momo, where are you?"

"I need you to call Rangiku for me. Tell her to get in touch with Akon right away. I'll call you when I'm done. I love you."

Momo crushed her phone in her hand. With the speed of a viper, she slammed the metal shards in the driver's face, and forced heat into her hands. The cab swerved into a phone tower. The horn blared.

Momo was completely unaffected. She calmly kicked off her heels and stepped into the glass-ridden street, where she molted her human skin. Her arms, four, to be exact, pushed down her skin to her ankles, where she emerged with cloven hooves. The tips of her inward fire licked the open lesions across her chest and shoulders, which cast a discordant light onto her face. She pulled her mink coat over her body, ignored the smell of singed fur, and vanished with a spark.

The explosion was no accident. Momo had questions for Nemu.

---

Toushirou's life normally amounted to nothing less than a circus, but between his strange dreams and sleep deprivation, it felt like he was on acid in a funhouse, jabbed and taunted by various spooks as he stumbled across the simplest entrapments. His body protested but Toushirou intended for his pain to be kept under lock and key.

He rolled his shoulders. They ground in their sockets, a sound much like when the bones of shapeshifters shifted into place. It never failed to make his stomach churn.

He was sick. At the same time, he refused to treat the symptoms. It was a demonic thing. Any indication of weakness was a recipe for cannibalism. After Sousuke Aizen, Gin Ichimaru, Tousen Kaname couped and killed at least a dozen of their coven members, Toushirou didn’t dare test his luck. He remembered all too well he wasn’t the only thing which lurked in the darkness, as ironic as it was.

Toushirou distracted himself from such miserable thoughts. The coven group chat displayed several new messages. Juushirou was abuzz about Mayuri's latest disappearance, as if that oddball didn't have a new act every weekend. Toushirou made sure to let Juushirou know not to worry about that clown privately. Toushirou was one of the newest members of their coven, after his former coven was incorporated into Seireitei due to their small number's inability to handle the increase of ghoul attacks, and since he was so new and youthful, he was still leered at. He knew it was necessary to make friends. Juushirou, a handsome and ancient fae, was amiable and liked by almost everyone. He was a great in for Toushirou.

He glanced at himself in the mirror by the door one last time. His suit was starched, his bedhead handsome. Telecommunications wasn't his favorite occupation, but it was better than his managerial position at McDonalds. It wasn't like his demonic pride was intact in the first place.

At five in the morning, traffic was a blur of barren red lights until the intersection a block away from the call center where he was employed. Brittany Coschtz pulled up in her little Prius, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, with her shiny pink hair pulled back into a messy bun, and her smile wide as the Amazon River. She was pretty. Toushirou let himself go in recent years when he compared himself to her. His neck sinews smoothed out, his chest was undefined. Nonetheless, he couldn't help but imagine sexual exchanges.

Brittany pulled ahead of him once the light turned green. His wood shrank. Toushirou missed the flat expanse of his groin.

In the parking lot, Toushirou paused when he came upon the security guard in the middle of a heated argument with an older woman.

Seconds later, Toushirou disregarded the encounter. It wasn't the first time someone trespassed and was warded off by security. His job was to train entry-level phone staff. It wasn't his concern.

"Good morning class," Toushirou said when he finally arrived to the training room. "Cell phones away, it's not like there's service down here anyways."

Phones were tucked away before he confiscated them. He began to boot up his desktop. "We're starting with escalations today. Bring up the curriculum and select the first hyperlink under escalations."

"Toushirou, did you see the chick outside?"

He rolled his eyes. Of course they wouldn't share his apathy to the subject. "Yes. I walked right past her and Dwight talking. He's got it covered. Don't worry about it."

"I saw Brittnay pull in earlier, but I didn't see her come in. Is she okay?"

"Everything is fine. Let's just get to work. Dwight has been working security here for sixteen years. He's more than capable of taking care of trespassers."

"Yeah, but like... did you see her teeth? She had like giant fangs. Are they fake?"

That did concern Toushirou. He hadn't picked up any ghoulish malevolence, though. Who knew what it was.

All said and done, Toushirou was disconcerted. What if they were to be attacked within the hour? Toushirou worked so long to preserve the life he crafted for himself. It took years to reach a comfortable job, to blend into humanity. He wasn't sure he had the patience to completely change his identity in the event he had to protect himself.

"Alright, everyone open the curriculum and go to week three and start on Situational Calls Overview. We'll go over it as a class in half an hour. If you forgot to clock in, make sure to send me a time card correction now so I can fix it."

Not a second later, the sound of crushed rocks ripped through the room. The force of the shockwave sent Toushirou into the opposite wall. He was covered in brick dust, it tasted like ash.

Toushirou became livid.

He grew a webbed crown and serrated teeth from his head. His fingers and toes lengthened and tapered off, crystalline scales sprout from his pores. His tailbone grew like a new spine into a thick tail like a lizard's.

He snarled at the two wretched ghouls. They fucking stank. It made his sinuses buzz from the irritant. His claws itched to fucking gut them.

He lunged with an open hand wound back to take out its head. His claws tore through the ghoul's side. He spun and slammed his heel into the gut of the other ghoul. Alas, the severe internal damage to both monsters unfazed them.

"Stubborn cunts!" Toushirou bellowed. He kicked one of them square in the ribs an he used it as a springboard to kick its partner with his razor-sharp toes.

He was pushed off his perch. His chest heaved like he was hyperventilating. Toushirou with his ancient tongues struggled to articulate something that described the feeling. Mechanically, he pushed himself up, and he slipped in a pool of oil. His blood.

The ghouls descended. He shrieked and flailed.

Toushirou would not let himself die at the hands of some fucking byproduct.

His bloodied palms slapped against his chest. From his back grew wings, and with a single thrust he launched himself into the air.

---

The train stopped every-fucking-where in the UK, and when Karin, Ichigo, and Rukia realized that, they collectively agreed to take a nap. Karin had trouble sleeping, however.

Rukia was a petite woman who met them at the station. Her and Ichigo were good friends. Strangely enough, Karin was never told about Rukia, but Ichigo was absent-minded and forgot about a lot of things, especially things which kept them in the loop.

Like the one time he and some friends he had in high school were exploring a storm drain when it suddenly flooded. Ichigo was pummeled by debris and forgot to tell his family about it. Subsequently, he constantly forgot to change his bandages, and about a month and a half after the flood when Karin realized he was injured, she helped redress his wounds and happened upon an exponentially worse wound. Of course, he chalked up the pain to bruising. Karin's brother was a dumbass.

As tired as Karin was, she was nervous to meet Kisuke Urahara. She replayed her earlier conversation with Rukia once again.

"Rukia, are you from Seireitei?" Karin asked as they were led into a private carriage.

"Of course I am. You won't find any other covens where we're going. Our leader doesn't tolerate the division of power. Yamamoto's power is absolute, and he's become more iron-fisted with this ghoul infestation."

"Infestation?"

"I know it's getting bad back in Karakura, but in London, I can't go anywhere outside of an armored, insulated car. The ghouls are so great in number that they swarm upon catching our scent."

"And we have to go there in order to meet Urahara?" Karin asked.

"Yes. Although, I'm not sure why he needs you, Karin," Rukia replied.

"He asked for the strongest of us. Karin is in heat," Ichigo said.

"Oh, that explains the smell, at least," Rukia replied. Karin wasn't one to be ashamed over her base needs, but she wished Ichigo wasn't so open about her maturation. It felt like there was a revolving door into her sex life. For someone like Karin, who preferred all facets of her life neatly compartmentalized, the overlap was absolute hell.

Ichigo quickly changed the subject. "Any guesses why Urahara wants the strongest of us?"

"Honestly? Sacrifice," Rukia postulated. Karin never came into contact with a full-blooded demon in the past, and especially not when she needed something from them. Uryuu told her how demons adored bloodshed and debt though. They loved it even more than a starved vampire loved blood.

"Cheerful today, aren't you?" Ichigo mumbled.

"You asked."

"I really hope they haven't asked for the strongest to send on a mission or some shit. Those ghouls are getting nastier. I don't want to get caught up in that alone," Karin confessed. She was rarely scared, never for herself, but Karin feared the unknown above all else.

Like when her mother passed away. Karin vividly remembered Masaki's funeral, where she refused to cry because if she started, she wasn't sure she could stop. Her father obsessed over the bills for awhile, and because of that, Karin lost a lot of sleep over the thought of homelessness, and then her grades dropped. She was so scared to unbottle her fear that the only way she kept from bursting like a hot dog over an open flame was to hurt hersel. There was still a scar on her stomach.

Rukia reached between them and held her hands like her big sister Yuzu did. "You won't be alone," Rukia assured Karin, "I promise."

Karin, unsure how to respond to sincere and earnest affection, changed the subject. "So who is this Urahara guy?"

"He's a demon exiled from the Seireitei coven. He's largely hailed as a genius though, so we had no choice but to reach out to him about the ghoul infestation. Here we are now," Rukia explained.

"How bad is it in London, then?" Karin asked.

"Martial Law is being discussed by Parliament."

"You've gotta be shitting me.... It's gotten that bad already?" Ichigo said. "Oh god, I thought we had it bad."

"It's torture, honestly. I haven't been able to go to work since I almost always end up getting ambushed whenever I leave my flat. If I don't apply medicated lotion, which I happen to be allergic to, I can't even go outside because they catch my scent." Rukia pulled up her sleeve and showed her bright red hives. Karin swallowed a thick lump in her throat.

"Jesus Christ," Ichigo said. "Rukia, why didn't you tell me? We have fae in our coven. They'll certainly have something for you to alleviate some pain."

"I consulted one of our own fae, Juushirou Ukitake. Even with undiluted blood, he couldn't help me. Our witches allied with our coven can't even help."

"Look, let me talk to Orihime. She has considerable healing powers. We'll see what we can do for you."

"This is sweet and all," Karin said, "but how're we gonna meet up with this Urahara guy?"

"There will be an armored truck for us at the station," Rukia said. "The driver knows where to take us."

"This isn't sketchy or anything…" Karin grumbled.

Four and a half hours after that, Karin was still nervous like the conversation was fresh. When they pulled to a stop in London, and Karin saw a windowless van outside her window, she felt sick.

---

Tessai Tsukabishi and Kisuke Urahara were in the kitchen when Toushirou Hitsugaya crashed through the ceiling onto Tessai.

"Fuck," Kisuke cursed. Tessai very coolly laid Toushirou on his back. The boy's lips were an unearthly green from hypovolemia. "Get the kids. Let them know we'll be having guests. Remind them to use the incense while they're waiting," he said. "I'll fix this kid up in the meantime."

"Alright, dear, holler if you need anything."

Kisuke opened his shirt. His insides crawled towards Toushirou.

---

Karin's head collided with the truck's interior and she cursed at the top of her lungs. "Careful up there! You're gonna bash my fucking brains in!"

"Karin… calm down," Ichigo told her. She spun towards him, her nostrils flared, and he looked away.

"That's what I fucking thought," she grumbled.

"We shouldn't be much longer," Rukia assured them.

Sure enough, the truck came to a stop, and the engine was killed. Karin, Rukia, and Ichigo happily crawled out of the back of the truck. A chill went down Karin’s spine. A reanimated corpse certainly explained the haphazard driving. If Kisuke Urahara wasn't above reanimation, though, what did he have in mind for her?

"This way," Rukia said. They entered through the back door of a green, two-story house, closed off with a warped wooden fence even taller than her brother. Someone the smell of mosquito repellent permeated from the very ground itself.

They followed Rukia down a bare concrete staircase to a dimly-lit, half-finished basement. There were six other people crammed together around a short poker table and covered in a fog of incense.

"Welcome. I'm glad you could make it," said a young woman, around Karin's age, with dark hair and ice-blue eyes. "My name is Ururu Tsumugiya. I'm one of Kisuke's children. He had a last minute patient come in so he had to take care of that first. He should be done shortly, however. In the meantime, have a seat."

Rukia pulled up a chair, but Ichigo and Karin shared a look that told them both the other one was more comfortable standing.

"No offense, but the tension is thick as hell here," Ichigo announced.

"That's because Toushirou Hitsugaya was attacked by ghouls this morning at his place of employment," said a youthful woman, with blond hair and rows of jagged teeth. "He's here now. Kisuke Urahara is patching him up."

Ichigo and Rukia became visibly disturbed. "Tier… this can't be true," Rukia said. "What happened?"

"That's all we know so far," Tier said.

"If you ask me, if he kicks the bucket, it's his own fault for not being able to defend himself," said a giant, black-haired man.

"Karin… these are Genryuusai Yamamoto, Kenpachi Zaraki, Yachiru Kusajishi, Ururu, Tier Harribel, and Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez," Rukia quickly explained to Karin. "This can't be true, though. Hitsugaya is one of our strongest entities! He couldn't have been overpowered by ghouls."

"He's not going to die," Tier said coolly, "But it's the truth."

"We're in quite a dire situation," Genryuusai said. He was certainly as intense as Rukia made him out to be. Even when he lamented, Karin felt like he was angry with her specifically. She decided she didn't like Genryuusai Yamamoto. Karin figured he was under a lot of stress, but he was also inconsiderate enough to not reign in his malevolence.

"Is this really your strongest, Ichigo? I'm surprised," Kenpachi Zaraki said. "I was under the impression you were the strongest."

"She's in heat," Ichigo said.

"Hey, I am right here, people. Instead of bringing it up to my brother, bring it up to me," Karin snapped.

"She's right," Tier said with a nasty glare aimed at Kenpachi, "if you have questions concerning Karin, ask her." He uncomfortably shifted in his seat.

"I'm sure she'd be much more comfortable if you stopped bringing up her maturation, Ichigo."

Karin, and most the other table, leapt to action at the sudden intrusion. Ururu was suddenly in front of them. The hollow barrel of a gun obscured Karin's vision.

"Alright, everyone calm down. I didn't mean to startle everyone…" Kisuke said. Slowly, weapons were lowered.

"These are certainly trying times, if every single one of you are on edge," Kisuke said as he took a seat. "I'm glad to announce I've found a way to eradicate this problem, however."

"And how is that?" Genryuusai asked.

"If you let him speak, he would tell you," Tier quipped.

"This… isn't going to be to your liking. Tier, Kenpachi, and Karin. You three are the strongest from your current covens. We are going to combine your powers, essentially."

"That's it?" Kenpachi asked.

"Well… no. This is an extremely experimental procedure, so I have no idea how it works to begin with, and I have no idea how the three of you will come out."

"These extreme measures for… for a ghoul infestation?" Ichigo exclaimed. "Absolutely not! I'm not letting my sister go through this thing without knowing what the hell she's gonna come out like."

"There's more to this infestation than he's letting on," Yamamoto announced.

Kisuke interlaced his fingers and laid his chin on them. "Unfortunately…. This hasn't been proven yet, but I believe there is a certain individual within our ranks responsible for the increased ghoul activity."

"You mean someone had begun puppeteering them?" Rukia said.

"Aye."

"Well, who is it?" Yamamoto spat.

"I'm not sure…. It could be Sousuke Aizen, Mayuri Kurotsuchi, and Shuutara Senjumaru. They are the only individuals with the means to achieve this caliber of invasion. I have no clues to which one it might be. But all of them are shrewd and powerful. We need extra firepower to take down the villainous one."

And if they didn't, they would all be attacked, one by one, until they were all annihilated.

"I'm in," Karin said. "I don't care what you think, Ichigo. We have to do this."

Ichigo stood stiller than a statue, stunned by Karin's resolution. It hurt her to see him that way. As much as Karin loved her family, there were problems bigger than them to begin with.

Tier sighed. "I suppose I'm obligated to protect my people, as well."

"I'm just down for a good fight," Kenpachi said.

"Then let's get the three of you ready."

---

Momo crashed into Nemu's family room. Mayuri Kurotsuchi was instantly neutralized by a ball of fire. It wasn't enough to kill him. All Momo wanted was to question Nemu why she apologized right before Toushirou blew up.

For the time being, at least.

Nemu cowered beneath a desk as Momo stormed over. Normally, the sight would have made Momo's heart quiver, because she knew what that kind of terror felt like, the icy terror of angry loved ones who you adored with every bit of soul. But family didn't murder their loved ones. Momo was no saint in that department, but she hadn't killed anyone knowing their innocence.

"What the fuck do you know about my brother?" Momo bellowed as she grabbed Nemu and lifted her into the air. "If I don't think you're being honest, I'll hurt you."

"I'm sorry," Nemu wept. "I tried talking him out of it. I know how much Toushirou means to you, but Mayuri refused to listen to me. He said Toushirou is too much of a threat."

"For what?"

"He wants to take over London, and then Europe from there. He's making ghouls for an army. He says making the strongest of the Seireitei into ghouls will increase his manpower several fold."

"You're lying!" Momo snapped. "Demons cannot be made into ghouls. They're a mindless byproduct of our feeding on humans."

"He's a genius. He found a way to splice DNA or something. I got so scared I couldn't hear anymore." Nemu attempted to pry Momo's hand off her neck. "You know what it's like. You know he'll kill me if I try to run away."

"So you fucking killed my family?" In her fit, Momo threw Nemu across the room. She readied a ball of fire. "You never told us a thing. You know Izuru and I would have done anything for you! But you never said anything."

"I'm sorry," Nemu cried. "I didn't want him to hurt me."

Momo faltered. She understood, better than anyone else. She understood, because Sousuke was the same.

"I hate myself for siccing ghouls on Toushirou, but I didn't have any other choice." Nemu stood and hugged Momo. "I love you so much, Momo. I didn't know what to do."

Momo picked Nemu up. She tenderly held her. "I forgive you," she said. "Let's get you out of here, honey. We'll get you help, okay?"

Suddenly, Momo's head exploded with a monumental headache. Blood flowed down their faces. The two toppled to the floor, where Momo saw Mayuri loom over them.

"Get up, Nemu," he ordered, "that's not going to keep her down long."

Nemu stood. Momo may as well have cried with Nemu as they dragged her down a flight of stairs. Momo knew she was bound to be turned into a ghoul like Toushirou, so she wailed, despite how her ears rang.

"Help me," she pleaded. Nemu only cried and apologized between her hyperventilations.

"Help me," Momo pleaded, as they threw her battered body onto a steel gurney. "Please, help me."

Nemu escaped to a chair by the door. Momo's head lolled to the side to watch Mayuri flick a hypodermic needle with his freakish manicure. Inside, a green mass, green like watered grass, swam. Momo could only beg to be let go as he approached with that awful serum.

When he stuck Momo's arm, her entire world crashed around her for the second time in her life.

Momo was murdered and her body enslaved by a sick motherfucker. First her soul, then her body followed. She hoped death would be total that time around as her arm rot at the injection site.

"Come, Nemu, we have other work that needs to be done," Mayuri said. Momo was left with a heavy sense of dread.

And anger. Again, Momo was betrayed by someone who was supposed to love her, it made her a fool, but she was tired of her compassion misused by cruel, selfish bastards.

"Burn," she growled. They all could burn for all she cared.

"Burn." She gushed fire, like a geyer.

"Burn." Her flames touched the plaster ceiling and blackened golf ball sized spots.

"Burn."

Fire, white from rage, burst out of her body, whirled around the room like a typhoon, and blew apart Mayuri's house. Momo pushed rubble off her body. She stung from head to toe from her burns. Nonetheless, the cops were on their way. She had to go.

---

"Karin-chan?"

Masaki sat in front of Karin. In the mirror behind her mother, Karin saw herself as a child again, with short hair mussed from her baseball cap and a band-aid on her cheek and weird, gangly limbs and her adult fangs too big in her mouth.

"Are you okay, my dear?" Masaki asked.

Karin wanted to tell Masaki she died more than a decade ago. But it was like the day before her mother's death. Karin wanted to throw herself into her mother's arms and never let go.

"I'm okay," Karin said. The mirror and the walls bled kanji characters. Kill her, it read.

Karin's heart sank in her stomach.

"I'm gonna take a bath," Karin said.

"Leave the door unlocked," Masaki told her.

Karin dashed upstairs and turned on the bath water. She cursed quietly. What the hell was happening? Where the hell was she, if she was somewhere which demanded her mother's murder?

Was it part of Kisuke's ritual? If so, what the hell was she supposed to do? Was she supposed to kill her mother, or find another way to defeat her and abide by a secret moral of the quest?

Either way, Karin was nauseated. Obviously she wasn't a stranger to murder. She killed many ghouls, had some accidents when she was immature. It was different when it was someone close to her.

The stairs creaked. The back of Karin's neck bristled like an animal alerted to danger. She locked the bathroom door.

How the hell was she supposed to get out of there?

The walls bled murder again. The bathroom door rattled violently. "Karin-chan," it boomed with a perverted rendition of her mother's voice, "I told you not to lock the door! Open up this second!" Karin dug through the vanity. Whoever was on the other side of that door wasn't Karin's mother. Masaki passed away years ago. The Masaki beyond the door was only a nightmare.

Karin popped out the razor blades from one of the fresh razors. She fit them between the fingers of her right hand. Sweat beaded down her neck and stained her shirt.

Gingerly, she reached out to unlock the door, when it splintered. She screamed and backpedalled, only to be pounced on. Blearily, she saw Masaki's hair curtain her from the light above. Drool, foul to the nose, fell on her cheek, and despite the water in her eyes, she made out jagged laniary.

Karin slapped the beast. It reared back thanks to the cut she gave it. Karin rushed past it for the kitchen. She dropped the razors in the sink and picked up their largest knife from its seat in the knife block. The creature topped down the stairs with elongated limbs. Karin saw, with her eyes clear of wood, she doled significant damage to its face.Karin readied her knife as it charged. When it leapt into the air to tackle Karin, it fell onto the knife.

Karin let the beast down. Although winded, Karin cried fresh. Her mother's hair was beautiful.

She tossed the knife into the sink, wiped her hands on her pants, and exited through the front door.

---

Karin popped out of the membrane she floated in. She hoisted herself up, rolled her shoulders, squeezed out the excess fluid in her hair, and sighed.

She felt different. Hungrier.

Karin stumbled through the surreal landscape. Ichigo waited by the door. He wrapped her in a pink shroud.

“I’m so hungry,” Karin mumbled.

“Okay, let’s get you something to eat. Come with me. Let’s get you washed off and something in your stomach.”

Karin’s body felt ill fit. Karin scrubbed herself with all kinds of suds and soaps and perfumes but the feeling didn’t fade.

She stepped out, pressed a towel against her hair, and wrapped it around her torso. Ichigo was outside with sweats, boxers, and a sports bra. She dressed, and when Karin returned outside, he wrapped her waist in a gait belt.

“Kisuke says vertigo will be an issue until you eat. Otherwise, are you okay?” Ichigo asked.

“Yes,” Karin whispered.

“What was it like in there?”

"I don't want to talk about it."

“You had to be the worst of the worst, didn’t you?”

Karin nodded. Ichigo's eyes were straight ahead. He looked sad, and it didn't evoke the sympathy it did before.

“Come on, let’s get you some food.” Ichigo guided her by her gait belt. She did stumble once on their way to the kitchen up a flight of stairs, but otherwise, the trip wasn't anything noteworthy.

She was sat at the island counter in a dim, windowless kitchen. Ururu, Kisuke's daughter, entered a moment later.

"I was hoping you would be the one to make it out. God knows that derelict Kenpachi wouldn't have been very useful."

"I wouldn't say that. I can still feel him in me, his bloodlust," Karin said before Ichigo tossed her a disposable blood package. "He may not be the most cooperative to you, but he'll prove essential in the future."

Tier was quite rational and analytic. She was kind enough to have shared her experience with Karin.

"I've been wondering how exactly these ghouls are increasing in number so quickly. I can't think of any current events that would lead to such a flux of byproducts," Ururu said.

"Geez… you're right. Sousuke Aizen's experiments are almost all dead now. There hasn't been anyone capable of such destruction gone AWOL either," Ichigo chimed.

"Yet," Karin said. "I'm sure we have a mole in our ranks."

"Who do you think it is?" Ururu asked.

"I don't know. All I know is someone knew to sic a ghoul on Toushirou, and they knew exactly where to sic them. He smelled like he took great measures to blend in with humanity. He couldn't have been caught by surprise. And who else would know when and where are ride would come pick us up?"

"Holy shit," Ichigo cursed. "Does your dad know about this?"

"I'm sure he's figured it out."

"So he's using us to find evidence so he doesn't make claims that Yamamoto is gonna say are outlandish."

"That's where my money is, and whoever it is, Urahara knows we'll need something like you, Karin, to stop them," Ururu replied. Her phone vibrated in her shirt pocket. "Just a minute. Urahara and Company, this is Ururu."

Ururu's eyes widened. "Bring Momo here. We'll operate immediately. Thanks, Shuuhei." Ururu clapped her phone shut. "I have to prep the operating room. Looks like we have an unusual situation come up."

"Best of luck," Karin said.

---

Momo was not a happy fucking camper, especially when her body still regenerated. Her favorite fucking coat altogether evaporated too.

All she fucking wanted was to use someone's phone for two seconds to call Izuru.

"Drop your phone. If I have to tell you one more time, I'm gonna fucking burn you," she snarled.

It was a child. They cried like Nemu cried, like a scared kid. Momo had time for guilt after she killed Mayuri.

"Drop. Your phone. I will count to three. I will kill you if I don't have your phone."

The kid tried to run. She pounced and burnt hair filled her nostrils as she bent to pick up their fucking phone. Dumbass kid, she grumbled.

"Baby, I'm really fucked up. I blew myself to shit."

"Momo, oh my God you're alive! Where are you?"

"I don't know," she replied.

"Stay put, baby, we're looking for you. Keep an eye out of Shuuhei's dogs, okay?"

"Izuru, I'm really fucked up."

"Look, we found Toushirou. He's being treated by Urahara. We'll take you there to get fixed up, okay? Just hang in there. Talk to me."

"I didn't mean to worry you." Momo's legs gave out on the grass. "I just got so mad. Nemu sent me a text apologizing right after I heard Toushirou got blown the fuck up." She wept. "Izuru, her and Mayuri are behind the ghoul attacks. He spliced DNA or something. I think he tried to turn me into one. I would've been real fucked if I didn't blow up.”

"You did good, baby. You did so good. Just hang in there. You're gonna be okay. Baby, tell me about your day at work."

"She was crying when he stuck me, you know, with that stupid ghoul DNA. She doesn't know what else to do. Don't be mad with her." Momo's regeneration couldn't keep up. She would expire soon, so she had to make sure Izuru knew everything that happened. "Tell her we still love her."

"No, you have to tell her yourself. Stay awake for us, baby. Tell me about work."

Momo's face was licked by a dog. She stared into it's eight, sweet, soulful eyes. "The only good men are dogs. I missed you, Venom."

"Venom is there? Venom, take her to Kisuke Urahara! Flatworm, feed her a piece of you!"

Flatworm was a Labradoodle-flatworm-dog with the ability of high speed regeneration. If part of its tongue was eaten, the consumer would shave death off for a good hour, and Venom, a rottweiler-spider-shaped dog, coughed up silk and wrapped Momo in it upon Shuuhei's command. It was cool and soft. Momo hummed peacefully and let the darkness of sleep take her.

Momo gratefully swallowed a piece of Flatworm's tongue. She would live for another day.

Izuru and Shuuhei rolled her onto a makeshift gurney they threw together with a canvas drop and a dolly. Izuru held her hand in the back, pleaded with her to stay conscious a minute more. When Momo was rolled out of the truck, they were grey shapes that took her inside and put her beneath a bright light.

Yuzu choked. She futilely attempted to pry her attacker off.

"How cute. You're very cute, Yuzu Kurosaki. Even when you smell like fish, you’re cute."

Addie's body rest upon the stained and rank sheets of her bed. Yuzu couldn't bear to look at the carnage. Not then, not ever. It was as futile as her escape, though. The image was burned into her brain.

"Don't worry, cute little Yuzu. You won't be in pain for much longer."

He brandished a thick syringe. She kicked her legs. As if she could avoid her fate, a cynical part of her thought. Her diluted vampire blood left her defenseless. When it plunged into her neck, she went limp.

"It'll be over soon," he promised her.

It was euphoric and nightmarish. Her arms and her legs went numb, her vision tunneled.

Yuzu realized she was dying.

"I know it's scary, but you can now serve a greater purpose." Her mystery attacker told her as he pet her hair.

Yuzu looked to the young woman who stood silently in the corner. She silently begged to be helped.

The young woman didn't even flinch. She only whispered to herself.

"Nemu, pick her up and let's go," her captor said after he shoved a bag over her head. "We've got things to do."

#bleach #hitsukarin #karin kurosaki #toshiro hitsugaya #momo hinamori #ichigo kurosaki #rukia kuchiki #back-in-a-bit

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ethansoft · 5 years

Text

Strawberries and cigarettes part 2 (ED)

The morning after y/n gave Ethan her phone number at the beach, all he could think about was how soon was too soon to text her. He sat staring at her contact information in his phone, wondering if she’s waiting for the text, as much as he’s waiting to send it. He doubts it. As always, Grayson is there to interrupt his deep thought, smacking the back of his head, “just fucking text her, you nerd,” Grayson laughed. “Shut up, Gray. It’s not that serious. I’m not nervous, I’m just... thinking,” Ethan replies. He’s lying, and it’s obvious. “Wow, when did my brother turn into such a little bitch?” Grayson asks rhetorically as he pours the milk in his cereal.

Ethan tapped the text app, and typed her name into the “to:” field. He felt his heart rate quicken. “Hey, it’s Ethan. Got anything going on today? I still want to go pick out a book at the library and you said you’d help. I’m holding you to that.” As he pressed the send button, he immediately clicked the lock button on his phone and turned it face down so he couldn’t see when her response came through. Rejection is one of Ethan’s bigger fears, he had dealt with it all too many times growing up. Before he could let his mind wander to a place he didn’t want it to go, he decided to get up and rinse his bowl out and load the dishwasher, he didn’t want to seem to eager to answer y/n’s text message, if she had even responded in the first place.

After the kitchen was swept, the dishwasher loaded, the food in the pantry organized, and all appliances and countertop space was washed down, Ethan finally decided to check his phone

Y/n: hmmm, not too busy. But Ethan who? I don’t know an Ethan.

Ethan rolled his eyes and let a chuckle out. He really likes her. He barely knows her, but he really does like her.

Ethan: the really handsome guy who approached you at the beach last night. Super funny and charismatic, talked you into giving him your phone number by some divine miracle. Ring any bells?

Y/n: hmmm, I guess maybe a little. Meet me at 3 at the library.

Butterflies fluttered in Ethan’s stomach as he reread the text over and over before replying.

Ethan: that’s perfect. I’ll see you then.

He replied and then set his phone. Rubbing his face with his hands, trying to figure out how the hell he would release the anxious energy he had before 3 o’clock. He looked at his phone to check the time. It was only 10:30 in the morning. He let out a heavy sigh. “This is going to be a long day,” he said to himself.

********

It’s 2:30, and Ethan has cleaned the entire apartment from top to bottom, went for a run, showered and organized his closet. Of course now, he was ready for a nap, but he had to head to the library to meet y/n.

Upon arriving, he sees y/n sitting on the steps outside of the library, nose in a book, which he’s coming to realize must be a normal thing for her. As Ethan approached her she looked up from her book, then back down to stick her bookmark in to mark her page. Ethan silently wonders why she still reads paperbacks when there’s a whole world of electronics out there that wouldn’t require her to bookmark her page or make the trip out of her house every time she wants a new book, but that’s a question for a different day. “Hey,” Ethan is the first to speak. “Hey,” she responds, putting her book inside her purse and standing up.

“So, what are your interests?” Y/n asks as they aimlessly wander through the library aisles. “Uh, I like lots of stuff...,” Ethan responds racking his brain for a good answer. “Uhh, well, okay then...,” y/n responds. “I like, well...,” Ethan looks around to see if anyone else is around them and then proceeds to whisper to her. “Romance. I haven’t read a book in a long time, so I can’t say I particularly love romance novels. But when I’m alone, I do find myself watching more romantic comedies than I’d like to admit.,” he can’t believe he’s telling her this. This is something that he has always kept between him, and his Netflix account. “But I like anything full of action too, because you know, I’m tough... and a man.” Ethan says while flexing his arms as if to show her he’s strong. “Interesting,” y/n says hiding a smile. “I like that. Okay. I think I can help you out. But first, check your fragile masculinity at the door.” Ethan laughs at her response.

After about a half hour of searching for the perfect book, y/n hands Ethan a copy of the Great Gatsby. “Here,” she says. “It’s romantic, and interesting, and a classic. I think you’ll like it.” Ethan flips the book around and reads the description printed on the back. “Hmm, sounds good. I’ll give it a try.” They sit in an awkward silence for a minute. Ethan is racking his brain to find a way to make this last longer. He needs to spend more time with her. But he can’t find a good excuse to keep her from leaving the library and he’s too nervous to flat out ask her if she wants to go get food with him, or go for a walk, or just let him watch her browse the library for an hour. Although he would happily do all of those things. “Well, you’ll have to let me know what you think of the book. I’ll be curious to see how you like it. It’s one of my favorites. The newest film adaptation isn’t all that bad either. I suggest you watch that as well, after you finish the book of course.” She shifts back and forth between the balls of her feet and her heels and Ethan can tell she is a little nervous as well, which brings his anxiety level down just enough to where he could speak again. “Cool, thank you for all your help. Maybe we can watch the movie together?” He asks, while wondering where his courage came from. “Yeah, maybe...” y/n says with a wink. “I’ll see you later, Ethan Dolan. Enjoy your day.” She said walking away from him.

*****

Ethan found himself doing nothing but reading the entire evening, he looked at the clock and it was almost midnight, and he had two chapters left. His emotional attachment to characters he’d only known for about 7 hours had him absolutely baffled. The way he felt for Jay, the way he couldn’t decide how to feel about Daisy, his frustration but love for the story in its entirety was something that was beyond his comprehension. He never knew how much he could enjoy someone’s storytelling. He wanted so badly to text y/n and express how he was feeling, knowing she would understand. But at the same time, stating his feelings had never been his forte, even explaining feelings about fictional characters intimidated him.

It wasn’t that Ethan was hard, or unfeeling, it was just that he had to grow up faster and live a harder life than most people. That in turn, had transformed him into the person he was today. Someone who worked hard, and did what he had to do to survive. It had always been him and Grayson against the world, ever since he could remember. His parents had been completely nonexistent during their childhood, they had been ripped from their home, placed in foster care, separated on numerous occasions and things didn’t come easy to them and they had gotten used to fighting. Fighting to stay together and fighting to live a decent life, and now as young adults, they had no one but each other, and a small group of friends that had become almost like family. But through all of that, Ethan had acquired a tough exterior, one that intimidated people even when he didn’t want to. Inside he was soft, but he wouldn’t admit that to himself; let alone the world. And texting a girl his feelings about a book that he had binge read, was a little too soft for his liking. But that’s what y/n did, she made him soft. He barely knew her, but from the moment they exchanged their first words, he knew that she could get him wrapped around her finger just as easy and she had gotten him to come over and talk to her. It was terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

As Ethan laid in bed that night thinking about Jay and Daisy, he was overcome with emotion and had so much to say. He needed to talk to someone about this book and the way it made him feel. And he needed to see her. Somehow he missed her presence. They had had a nice day, and he needed to feel the way he felt around her again, this instant. It couldn’t wait any longer. God, how did this girl he had known a total of 24 hours have this much power over him already. He couldn’t understand it, but instead of trying to do so, he conjured up the courage to text y/n.

Ethan: hey, you up?

Y/n: yeah... what’s up?

Ethan: I’m coming over. Meet me outside in 15 minutes.

Y/n: my roommates and I are having a girls evening in, no boys allowed, sorry pal.

Ethan: no reason to apologize, I’m not asking to come in. I’m asking you to come out. Finished the book. Need emotional support.

Y/n: I wish you could see how hard I rolled my eyes at your text. Surprised they aren’t stuck there. Come to the back alley. I’ll try to sneak out.

Ethan: on my way.

A/n: I promise from here on out it’s going to get longer and better, but I just wanted to update for the people who have asked! Let me know what you think, feedback is encouraging and makes me want to write more because I’m a dumb bitch who needs validation anyway ily guys goodnight

#ethan dolan #grayson dolan #dolan twins #ethan dolan x reader #ethan dolan fanfic

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