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chocominnie · 3 years

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One Last Time 01 — Pjm. (M)

⇢ pairing: Jimin X Reader

⇢ Genre: Idol!Jimin, Exbf!Jimin, model!reader, sad au, fluff, tons of smut, angst

⇢ Synopsis: Your idol ex boyfriend Jimin cheated on you. You two have been broken up for a while now and the media has been keeping track of you and him. You’re trying to get over him, but the things that happen inbetween makes you re-think the entire breakup, and so does Jimin…

⇢ Song : xxxxx

⇢ Word Count : 4.3k

⇢ Warnings: dominant jimin, makeout sessions, this is honestly a sad angsty au, cheating, pregnancy, unprotected and protected sex, a bunch of sex, no really a LOT of sexual themes too, I know I’m forgetting some but sorry in advance!

⇢ Copyright: please do NOT repost, translate, or modify my works in any way, shape or form, on any platform. If found doing so , it is considered as plagiarism and appropriate LEGAL action will be taken

⇢ Authors note: This is my mini series for the summer! Get your tissues, things to take your anger out on, and sit back and watch the drama unfold. Shall we begin?

The winter’s coldness is hardly enough for you to bear. Even though it’s just the beginning, Seoul is known to just go from season to season without a fucking warning. Not only that, but the first snowfall is going to come soon. The weatherman has been talking about it non-stop for the past few days. It’s going to be a brutal one he says but he says that every year so why believe?

Turning off your alarm, you take a few minutes to collect yourself and stretch. Barely any sleep once again but that’s an everyday thing now.. without Jimin. It’s been some rough months not having his body wrapped snugly onto yours. These days you long for his touch, but completely dread at the same time for very good reasons.

Your kitten greets you with small licks on your thigh in which in return you pet her head softly with a smile.

‘‘ At least I still have you babygirl. You keep me company. “ You coo softly while grabbing your phone off the charger. Texts from your best-friend just spamming you with love and apparently she’s coming over. Great. That’s normal. But one text catches your eye. Jeon Jungkook.

You furrow your eyebrows as your finger slides to open it after typing in your password. In relief, he’s just checking up on you as always. Rolling your eyes, you muster enough strength to actually pull yourself out of bed. The cold tiles hit your feet like icicles. You jump from from foot to foot cursing yourself for not turning on the floor heaters as you walk out the room. Clara, your kitten, follows you out purring nonchalantly with a few meows here and there.

‘’ Alright Clara I hear you. Im getting your food now.’’ You chuckle, grabbing her food from the bottom kitchen cabinet right under the sink and pour her half a cup of cat food and a whole bowl of water.

After snacking on your morning granola bar you prepare yourself for your morning routine. Shower, brush teeth, skin care, get dressed, clean. Your phone dings once more just before stripping yourself of your clothes. You don’t bother to look it’s probably just a social media notification.

Drying your hair with a towel as you get out the steaming hot shower, you head straight for the mirror. Dark circles remain under your eyes from months of barely any sleep. You sigh, and gently rub under them. Jimin is the cause of this. Why would he do this to you. Surely enough he would not like to see you like this at all. The worriedness he would have over you is huge. But he has moved on and you just have to accept it no matter how in-love you still are with him.

As you clean up around the living room, another ding from your phone occurs. A groan escapes your lips as you place the pillows back as they should be. In hopes of it just being your manager giving you some good news, you let out a sigh and plop yourself down on the grey suede couch. Three new messages. Jeon Jungkook, who has text you twice, and Ryan your bestfriend.

‘‘ Damn it Ryan why must you consistently text me twenty four sev- “

“ Beause I need to know if you’re okay.”

You jump and drop your phone onto the hardwood floor from the voice that comes from around you.

“ Holy fucking shit you scared me! “ You whine, turning around to face your best-friend. She smiles and holds out her arms for a hug. You roll your eyes and open yours waiting for her embrace.

“ Oh i’ve missed you so so so so so so so-”

“ You just seen me yesterday..” Your voice sarcastic and bland as you let go of her. You sit on the couch first followed by Ryan sitting right next to you.

She looks good today, the navy blue coat she has on suits her very well. Although, you cannot figure out why she decided to wear leggings today. It’s going to rain a bit later but you disregard that seeing as though she’s the fashion deisgner and not you.

You. The model and seemingly ex girlfriend of one of the biggest solo idol in the world right now. Thats what they call you in the news, headlines in magazines, and real life as if you don’t have a real name and just was his acessory. Your modeling career had taken off way before dating him. The world, or Seoul to say the most, didn’t acklowledge you to that point yet.

“ Okay but still. You know we should be roomates. It’ll be easier for me to watch over you. “

Your head turns towards her quickly shaking no, “ I don’t need to be looked over im 20 years old.”

Silence takes place for the next few seconds. You know what she’s going to say next but pray she doesn’t. Those words will just make you even more upset. It’s already enough you have that constant reminder in your head.

You watch her fiddle with the rings on her index and pinky fingers. “ But you know… you haven’t been the same since you and Jimi-”

“ Don’t fucking say it. I don’t want to hear it.”

She sighs harshly and stands up, “ Im just worried about you Yn”

“ Don’t be. Im fine. “ That lie escaped your tongue way too easily.

Truthfully you haven’t and won’t be fine. Everyday there is something new about that girl and Jimin on twitter. Gossip pages, twitter fanpages, and online entertainment pages just always talking about them. They did this, they did that today. Oh we caught them going to this and that restaurant. That used to be you and him.. but now everyone has forgotten about you and focused on them.

Ever since you’ve told reporters and paparazzi repeatedly that you will not be holding or going to any interview they just stopped. A few calls here and there to your manager about scheduling one but she knew you didn’t want to do them so every request is denied. Although its been a year and some change, they still seem to want your side and your opinion to weigh in on. I guess that’s what happens when you date an Idol.

“ The door.. Y/N the door somebody is at the door.” Ryan says, tapping you over and over. You shake your head interrupting your thoughts for the time being. A few more knocks come through.

Finally up onto your feet you harshly walk to the door with each step making noise. It’s to early in the morning for someone to actually be knocking at the door right now. Whoever it is better be dropping off some sort of package, or they’ll surely get a piece of your mind.

Your frail hands grab onto the doorknob and swing it open. Your eyes almost pop through your sockets. How? How did he know you were here? You certainly did not tell him your knew address.

There he stands, his tall frame looking down on you. Lips formed into a tiny pout along with his eyebrows scrunched slightly. His brown eyes forming an ungodly stare into yours with his specs on.

“ Yn! Do you know how worried I was about you? Why did you not answer my messa-”

“Jungkook how do you know where I live?” You pace your hands on your hips, raising an eyebrow at him. To your knowledge, you never gave Jungkook your new apartment address.

Jungkook swallows slowly and puts on his best innocent face on. Oh please like that would work in this moment right now. The only person who has this address is Ryan because she’s the one who helped you move. Even if you had the choice of not giving it out to Ryan you would of but you couldn’t do that to her. She would of been so upset.

Ryan’s voice blares in the background full of excitement. Here we fucking go. “Jungkook! Come in Come in.”

“ Ryan says I could come in.” He says quickly, brushing past you and removing his shoes.

You heavily sigh and slam the door shut. What is this a family reunion? On your way back to the couch you notice them laughing and giggling like two five year old children. They don’t even notice you when you sit right across from them.

You study their expressions. Their chemistry is something so strong. The way their eyes light up when they meet, the way that Jungkook smiles and scrunches his nose more often when she’s around. You miss that. You miss doing that.

“ So are you both coming along this afternoon?”

Your attention focuses back on them. Of course you weren’t paying attention once again.

Your eyes slowly meet with theirs, “ Huh? Where are we going?”

“ Kookie finally bought a house! He wants us to come tonight for chicken and beer. You’re coming right?”

A sharp pain goes through your heart. If the both you you guys go then theirs a possibility that Jimin was invited too. After all, that is his brother. If Jimin comes then he’s most likely going to bring Isabel. A recipe for disaster. Your poor heart, that most likely could not bare the sight of them infront of you, would shatter into a million pieces.

Jungkook’s expression is ready to burst into happiness or to turn into a pout awaiting for your answer. If you let him down he’ll surely be mad at you. But putting yourself before him this time would be the right thing to do right?

“ Listen Jungkook I.. don’t think I can go.” You start off, playing with your hair with your head down.

“ I’ll space you two apart.”

Your face automatically lifts itself up in shock. Somehow, that little confirmation of Jimin being there, gave you some hope. Hope for what though?

“ Wha-what do you mean?”

Jungkook sighs heavily with his hand going up to his brown hair running it through lightly. “ I’ll make sure you two are distanced apart. You don’t want to come because of Jimin but I’ll make sure I’ll invite more people to keep you company and away from him. Okay?”

“ Please Yn. I’ll be there too.” Ryan begs, laying her head on Jungkook’s shoulder. Jungkook smiles a little, caressing her cheek with his other hand upon waiting your response.

Weird. When did they get so close?

The first thing you want to say is that you really could not go. But they already know the excuse now. You might as well just give in.

‘‘ Fine. What time tonight? “

Skincare and makeup products are scattered everywhere on your vanity. You needed the perfect look for tonight that says ‘Yes im doing fine without you’, but in reality you’re doing worse. This is the night where you’ll actually see him. Damn it’s been a while.

After you apply your highlight you step back and take a look at yourself. Not bad at all. You smile to yourself and start cleaning up the mess of products you had distributed across the vanity. A new text appears on you phone as soon as you gather everything up and put it back in it’s place. Grabbing your phone, it’s Ryan giving you the address to Jungkook’s new house.

You sigh and mentally prepare yourself, ‘‘ Okay Yn. You can do this. It’s just one night of conversing among people. Who knows, maybe you’ll meet someone new.”

Before heading out you grab your coat and scarf. Clara follows you all the way to the door letting out her little meows once again. You bend down to pet her head lightly with a smile. “ Clara im coming back. I’ve put food in your bowl babygirl.”

She purrs under your touch then walks away to settle herself in her bed. You take one last final look at your decent sized apartment before heading out.

The subway ride was agonizing pain for you due to it being 30 minutes long. Well, at-least you can ride the subway now. Your mind wouldn’t even of thought of that when you were with him. Everybody would have noticed you and bombard you with questions.

The outskirts of Seoul is peaceful and quite. Not many people live over here. Mostly famous actors and idols. The taxi takes a few minutes to get to the fairly clean subway station. Once you’re inside you take a good look at the driver who seems to be eyeing you in suspicion. You pull out your phone and read the words to the address exactly to him. The taxi man pulls of into the empty streets of god knows where.

All it took was a ten minute ride and then you’re there. The taxi man pulls up to a security guard booth. Just beyond the gates is more street but by squinting your eyes you can make out just a few newly built houses.

‘‘ Who are you here to see?” The taxi driver says.

“ Jeon Jungkook.?

The driver talks to the man for a few seconds before you see the security guard pick up a phone and start dialing. The security is extremely uptight, thats good. After a few moments of speaking the security guard finally opens the gates to be let through.

As you pull up to the house you’re automatically mesmerized on how big and beautiful it is. There’s fresh bushes and some white roses growing in the front of it complementing the white modern style home. The roundabout is full of luxurious cars, in which might be all the other guests.

‘‘ 10 dollars’‘ He says. You give him the ten, thank him, and grab your purse, closing the door behind you.

Your eyes meet face to face with the expensive house. Behind you is the tire wheels backing up and running off back down the roundabout. The time on your watch reads 8:15. Only fifteen minutes late, not bad right?

With each step you take fear quivers inside of you. What if he opens the door? What if that girl opens it instead? The wind blows harsh-fully hitting your cheeks making them turn slightly colored. You raise a small, shaky fist to knock on the door. Your blood turning cold, and face turning pale already. Your anxiety already taking its place inside of your body.

The door swings open revealing Ryan smiling from ear to ear. She pulls you inside without even a greeting. You kick your shoes off in a hurry as she pulls you more and more inside. Scanning the area around you, its a nice huge place. First the both of you pass the entrance, then the chef sized kitchen, which then leads you to the spacious living room where everybody seems to be sitting.

All eyes are on you now with some familiar faces and some not. They smile and greet you one by one and you slightly bow your head with a fake smile.

‘‘ Ah Yn, nice to see you again huh.’‘ Hoseok, the smiley one says, getting up from his seat to greet you once more.

‘‘ Nice to see you to Hoseok. Is Chae-Yeon here? I’ve baked the cookies she likes.’’ You say, holding up the big tuba-wear of freshly baked cookies. Nobody can resist those.

‘‘ No she had to work sadly, but I will enjoy them for her.’‘ He chuckles, bringing the tuba-wear out of your dainty, cold hands.

A very familiar voice booms from behind you causing you to turn around. “ Yn! You actually did come!’’ Jungkook, the owner of the voice exclaims. He wipes his hands with a napkin just before pulling you into a hug.You pat his back just before letting go.

Ryan smiles and shakes her head, “ I told you she would come.’’

Only one hour and 30 minutes into the festivities and half of the people here are drunk or nearly there. You on the other hand do not drink at all. Staying sober throughout this whole party is a must. Who knows what would happen if you start drinking and saying things.Ryan seems to be doing good with Jungkook who’s laying on the floor laughing and cracking jokes with her head laying on his stomach giggling along with him. The others have casually invited themselves into the guest game-room to play some pool.

You just sit there on the couch, munching on a cookie and smiling and laughing here and there at one of Seokjin and Jungkook’s back-to-back jokes that seem to never leave the air.

Only for a knock on the door to interrupt their flow of jokes.

‘‘ I got it I got it.” Seokjin stammers, placing a beer bottle down and stumbling towards the door. You freeze, face turning pale once more. It’s them. It could be them. Your teeth find their way to your lips and you begin to chew on it excessively.

Ryan notices it and automatically gets up from Jungkook, ‘‘ Come Yn, lets go see if the game of pool is interesting.’‘

You nod your head slightly as you get up from the couch. What are you worrying for? You look extravagant tonight. No need to worry yourself.

Just before taking your first few steps you stop, that voice. That oh so familiar voice begins to inch closer and closer. The famous laugh that he always tries to stifle by putting his hand over his mouth, that you’ve always thought was so fucking cute, fills the air.

You don’t know what got over you, but you sit back down dragging Ryan down with you. “ Yn? What are you doing I thought you wanted to avoid him.’’

‘’ No it’s okay. Im going to be fine.’‘ You say, awaiting upon his arrival into the room.

The footsteps are haunting you with each step they take.

one..two..three..four..five..si-

‘‘ Everyone, Isabel and Jimin are here.’‘ Seokjin stammers, smiling wide clearly drunk from all the beer consumed.

Your eyes go directly towards his. The pit of your stomach flutters with nervousness as you hold the long stare with him. His facial expression shocked but not showing it at all. His partner, who’s arm is linked with his, smiles brightly at everyone bowing her head slightly to them including you.

‘‘ Sorry we are late. Jimin didn’t want to come out of his home studio but I’ve made him come along with me.’‘ Her voice gentle and soft.

‘‘ Yn I forgot let me show you my new painting i have received.” Jungkook says quickly, trying to escape you from the awkwardness.You can bare it though its not as bad as you thought.

‘‘ Maybe later Kookie. I’m going to grab some juice.” You say, getting up from your spot. You brush past Jimin lightly with Ryan tailing along with you.

The spacious kitchen was perfect for you to escape for just a moment. Silence is golden. Ryan sighs, pouring you and her a glass of juice. Nothing is to be said yet. But you know she really wants to have her input.

Raising the glass to your lips, you take a sip letting the tanginess run across your tongue and down your throat. ‘’ Say it Ryan.’’

She puts her cup down and looks at you with your eyebrows furrowed, ‘’ You aren’t fine. Please just avoid them for the night.’’

You knew it was coming but you have to face the fact that they area couple anyways so why avoid it? Maybe your mind will finally accept it to see it in person.

‘‘ I have to face it one way or another so why not now?’‘

She shakes her head in disapproval, finishing the rest of her juice. “ No you don’t. You’re making yourself suffer and I don’t like it.’’

‘‘ Yn.. did you make these cookies?’‘ A voice says behind you. Ryan’s eyes go wide and then looks at you signaling for you to not turn around. But you do it anyways.

Isabel. How dare she call you by a pet name? You don’t even know her like that and she’s doing this. Anger wants to get the best of you but you remain humble and calm.

‘‘ Yes. Is there a problem though? Are they not good?’‘ You say, putting on your best innocent act.

She smiles as she moves a piece of hair of her perfectly framed face, ‘’ No they are great! I was wondering if i can have the recipe.. for Jimin’s purpose of course.’’

You breathe through your nostrils with your eyes closed. She knows what she’s doing. She likes seeing you suffer huh? ‘’ You can follow any recipe online. I just add almond extract and substitute white sugar for brown.’’

Ryan shakes her head slightly while sticking her cup into the sink. ‘’ I’m going to be back I have to use the restroom.’’

Once she leaves Isabel’s smile drops.’’ Almond? Im- Im allergic!” She says, semi yelling at you. You’re shocked more or so at the sudden outburst that you can’t speak. You had zero knowledge of her being allergic, it’s an accident for sure.

“You did this on purpose!’’ She says, tears filling her eyes as she goes into a coughing fit.

Shit. You didn’t know if anyone was allergic to nuts here but you had put it in anyways because that was the secret ingredient

‘’ I- I didn’t know im sorry is there anything I can do?’’ You say, guilt taking over you while you rush to her side patting her back.

‘‘ Get off of me! You did this on purpose! You never liked me anyways. Jimin! Jimin!‘ She scream’s, coughing and wheezing making her face red.

Multiple footsteps rush into the kitchen. You don’t know what to do at this point so you just back away and let whoever take over. All the commotion going on and yelling is starting to give you a slight headache. All of the boys surround her, bombarding with questions and asking each other what to do.

‘‘ What’s all the yelling about? What happened! “ Jungkook exclaims rushing towards her hunched over body.

‘‘ What’s going on? “ That voice that haunts you everynight finally comes inside the kitchen. When he see’s Isabel he automatically rushes towards her side. It pains you to see him rush to another woman’s body. But that figure is no longer yours so he has every right to do that.

‘‘ She-She put almond in the cookies on purpose! She’s trying to–to-’‘ She manages to wheeze out before another coughing fit.

Jimin’s eyes meet yours full of rage but then taken over by concern. He knows your hurt. Still hurt from the past and from this very situation now. You don’t manage to keep eye contact, so the floor is your eyes’ bestfriend right now.

‘‘ Yn. is this true? Why would you do that?” He says, eyes never leaving yours and voice soft.

You shake your head quickly, “ I didn’t know she was allergic. I always put almond extract an-’’

“ You knew better than to put any type or form of nut in a dish when bringing it to ones house. You never know if someone has an allergy to it.’‘ Jungkook scolds you, eyes furrowed in shame.

‘‘ Don’t blame her. She didn’t fucking know.” Ryan’s voice enters the room in madness. She comes to your side with her arms crossed. Your own personal savior. Without her, you’d still be feeling guilty and taking the blame.

‘‘ Besides, you knew better than to invite him if you knew he was going to bring the girl he cheated on her with.. right?’‘ She says, cocking her head to the side as her attitude takes over.

The room is silent again. Good girl Ryan.

Isabel lifts her head in disbelief along with Jimin. “ Listen that’s beside the point. Just don’t do it again.” Jimin says, focusing his attention back on Isabel. He reaches into her purse to grab her Epi-pen.

His scolding is enough to send your eyes into tears. You shouldn’t of agreed to come. This is a disaster. You take the tuba-wear of cookies from the counter on your way out of the kitchen and dispose of them. Your vision is blurry and you don’t know where your going but you just need some air. You make lefts and rights down long and short hallways till you reach a room that has a balcony.

You slip on who-ever’s house slippers and open the sliding door revealing the winter’s cold harsh air. You lean on the railing and close your eyes breathe in and out heavily.

Wiping the tears away, You open our eyes and look straight ahead. The whole city is lit up such a beautiful view for a sad moment. The sad moment is cut short by the sliding door opening and closing. You don’t bother to turn around it’s probably just Ryan checking on you again. When are people going to stop doing that?

“ Yn.”

Thats the last voice you wanted to hear.

‘‘ Are you happy? Happy for scolding me infront of everybody.” You sniffle, wiping away your leaking nose.

You hear some rustling before something is placed on your shoulders. You look down at the material and shrug it off of you.

‘‘ Give it to your girlfriend.”

‘‘ I can’t let you be cold. Put it back on.’‘ He sighs, picking it back up and coming closer to you. You both stand side by side. Jimin puts his jacket around you once more and before you could re-do your action just before, he speaks.

‘‘ Shrug it off again and I’ll scold you. Do you understand?’‘ He says firmly.

You don’t bother to speak. Silence is golden.

‘‘ Listen.. i know you still aren’t over the fact that we are through but-”

‘‘ Shut up. I don’t want to hear it. Please go tend to your dying girlfriend.’‘ You say, sarcastically.

He huffs, “ She’s resting right now. She wouldn’t have to be if you wouldn’t of put-’’

You turn towards him slowly and meet his eyes daring for him to finish the rest of his sentence. ‘’ Don’t you fucking dare Park Jimin.’’

‘‘ Honorifics.’‘ He says, slightly looking down at you due to the height difference.

‘‘ You’re right Jimin-ssi.’‘

Jimin’s expression is taken a-back. You knew that one honorific word would hurt him.

‘‘ If we are done speaking I will take my leave now.” You say, eyes never leaving his as you take off his jacket and toss it to him, leaving him outside in the cold

This night was one of your worst mistakes. You thought you could handle it, but couldn’t. So maybe Ryan and Jungkook were right. Maybe you can’t handle it at all..

582 notes · View notes

delicrieux · 3 years

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☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 "𝚘𝚑"

PART 8: CAT BOYS

... it’s late into the night and y/n is streaming with one of her new friends, sykkuno. running on caffeine and redbull is apparently not enough because she falls asleep on his shoulder 45 minutes into their cyberpunk gameplay. at that exact moment, twitter goes up in flames.

─── corpse husband x reader, sykkuno x reader (because i was threatened by thirsty anons) ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: 1.8k author’s note: here it is...what yall been asking for. literally had to add a new part for this but i loved this idea sm i couldnt just nOT NOT do it. i tried writing this with the same energy as the smau lmao so expect chaos as always. hope you enjoy it and as always lmk what u think! hopefully yall wont go too feral, but tbh thats prolly too much to ask for xx EDIT: srr for the fucky format tumbler dot com is being lame

ultimate masterlist. ҉ myso masterlist ҉ previous. ҉ next.

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Such a back and forth continues for the better part of the day as you get ready. Corpse only whines a bit when you forget to text him back - you are packing, and your prestigious cat ears you bought from Amazon for 10$ deserve exquisite care - which only fuels your seemingly bottomless hunger for mischief, leading to you sneakily ignoring him more. When your phone lights up with a message, you giggle, giddy with excitement. Your laughter only gets louder and more erratic, to the point where Rae had busted down your door and threw her Hello Kitty plush at you - one you’d gotten her, mind you! - and told you to just “Shut the fuck up!”

Ungrateful. You know not everyone can appreciate your sense of humor, or stand your hyena like cackle, but that was uncalled for and you told her as much. Noting the mess your room is in (more than usual, that’s for certain), she leans onto the door frame, crossing her arms over her chest, pretty brown eyes twinkling curiously, “Where you off to?”

“So I had this idea-” You start, but are promptly shut down with a raise of her palm.

“Already know it’s a bad one.”

Insulted, and hurt, you clutch your heart. As if she had not mocked you enough today, “Rae...The hell, that’s so mean...” You mutter, face scrunching into a soft frown, “I only wanted to tell you what me and Syk thought of.”

“Oh?” Intrigued, she raises a brow, “Continue.”

“Gee, thanks for letting me this time.” You mumble, rolling your eyes, “So. We thought we’d stream together. The catch? In the same room! We’ll be playing Cyberpunk. Gotta cash in while the hype is still up.” You add, making her snort, “And, ya know, the whole cat boy business...We’ll be wearing matching cat ears. Admit it, I’m a genius.”

She’s quiet for a moment, mulling over your words; you can practically see the gears in her head turning. She glances around the room, then briefly at you, strangely apprehensive. “You sure that’s a good idea?”

Well, that is definitely not what you expected her to say. You figured it’d be more along the lines of you’d be one ugly cat. “Huh?” Is all you manage to stutter, “What do you mean?”

She gives you a look, one all people give when something is so plainly obvious, “Y/n. You do know the stans will go wild, right? And you do remember our conversation involving Corp-”

“Nope!” You exclaim cheerily with a bright smile to match. You don’t want to think about that. The relationship between you and Corpse is strictly platonic, and besides, seeing Twitter loosing their shit is always funny, and you never miss an opportunity to mess with your fans. Sykkuno is also a good friend, albeit a new one. This supposed flirting from Corpse’s end Rae deduced was nothing more than her projecting her feelings onto the situation. She always liked shoujo anime and was probably thinking one was happening right in front of her. Not a chance. Corpse was just being a friendly crackhead. Your energies mesh beautifully.

Like, beautifully in a strictly friend way. Absolutely nothing more than that.

She gives up, naturally, arguing with a wall would be more productive than arguing with you. You’re such a (Zodiac sign).

“Well,” She mumbles, ticking her head to the side, leaning off of the door frame and turning to leave, “Don’t say I didn’t tell you so.”

Your grin melts as soon as she leaves. Glancing at your bag, you shove your last necessities in with newfound hesitance.

Nothing bad will happen, right?

...Right?

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It is well past the generally set “appropriate” time to hang out, but since quarantine, what is appropriate anymore anyway? You’ve never been in Sykkuno’s apartment, but now that you’re here it’s...strangely him. Every corner seems tailored to his specific requirements. It’s cozy, and pleasantly warm - it’s a bit chilly in LA, as surprising as that is.

He’s even shyer than you remember him being. And a whole lot more awkward, but in an endearing way, a way that makes you want to laugh and try to reassure him that it’s just you and he has nothing to worry about. While you hung out only once, the history you share is rich and tender. From him following you on Twitter and subsequently prematurely ending your stream, to kidnapping a stray cat affectionately named Juan. His long lost brother, Juan (no the Second, just Juan), lives in your Minecraft server.

His stream room is sadly bare. There’s an appalling lack of merch or fairy lights. Not even led-lights. It’s a good thing you brought your own. As you try to decided which color would be best - his signature lime green, reminiscent of his adorable Among Us astronaut, or, perhaps, mischievous violet? - he boots the game and tweets out a quick “streaming with y/n in ten mins! come one come all!”

“You should probably tell your fans, too.” He mumbles, looking somewhere above your shoulder. You settle with cherry blossom pink. Glancing at him, you shrug.

“Ah, do it for me, please?”

“Oh!” He hiccups, “Uhm, I wouldn’t want to pry and I don’t know your password and-”

“It doesn’t have a password.” You had removed it, knowing something like this would happen. Bless your foresight, you did not want him to know it was demonspiitinmymouth. Before he could protest further, you rush to the nearest mirror to put on your cat ears and make sure they aren’t crooked. You look absolutely adorable. The cat boys in your dms will go feral. Hell, you might just go feral looking at yourself! Sykkuno is not ready. No one is. This will be a stream to remember.

When you return (with flourish of course), he’s anxiously fidgeting by his computer, his own little cat ears, one’s he wore for the Halloween stream, peaking out from his silky brown hair. You have to suppress a squeal. When he catches you gaze he gives the kindest, sweetest little smile.

“They, uh--” He points at you, then decides it’s rude to point, bringing his hand back to his lap, then clutching his mouse, lastly releasing a sound stuck between a chuckle and a wheeze, “suit you, uhm, a lot!” He finishes with a resolute nod, quickly spinning in his chair and away from you.

This is the reaction you desired. All is going according to plan. Is this what God feels like? If not, then you pity her. She’s missing out.

Taking a seat next to him - he had been gracious enough to haul you a spare chair from the kitchen - you draw closer, and he, instinctively, shrinks away with another nervous chuckle.

“You have, uhm... I-I didn’t look!” He quickly chimes. You raise a brow, “Uhm, unopened messages? From Corpse? He texted you when I was tweeting! I didn’t mean to look, I’m sorry-”

Instantly, you recall the famous vine with the scandalous “daddy chill” line, though refrain from saying it aloud. You love havoc, but you’re not evil (Rae would ardently disagree with you, though). Instead, you just shrug, “’S fine, don’t worry. I’ll text him back later. Let’s start?”

He nods, but doesn’t look at you. Granted, you don’t think he glanced at you even once since you returned, “...Okay. Ready?”

“Ready!”

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

You’re much too immersed into the game and Sykkuno’s twitch chat to even check what’s happening on Twitter, but your estimated guess is that everyone’s going crazy. The stream chat is unruly as well, but missing the signature Twitter spark. Most of the chaos is bravely lead by your fans. Sykkuno’s, much like the man himself, are too nice to scream so unabashedly.

Perhaps you excitement had been a bit too taxing, perhaps drinking 5 coffees and 2 energy drinks today and not enough water are to blame for the sudden drowsiness you’re feeling, but you can’t focus on the swimming chat or the abundance of cut-scenes at the starting point of the game. You steadily draw nearer and he, more composed in front of his audience, doesn’t react. About ten more minutes of hoovering by his shoulder and muttering soft commentary, and you feel yourself slipping.

The last coherent thought you have is a few choice words directed at caffeine itself for having the opposite effect of you at the worst time possible.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

You float in oblivion for perhaps ten minutes at best. Once you awake with a startle, you shower Sykkuno in shy apologies and he quickly reassures you that it’s fine and that he didn’t mind at all!

“Though,” He adds after a thoughtful pause, “not sure if it was very, uh, comfortable?”

His stream chat spams uwu and variations of similar kind. The stream continues for a few more hours before the both of you wish everyone a good night.

While you planned on wreaking absolute havoc, this sudden falling asleep was unexpected. You pondered the consequences of such an innocent, unplanned act whilst ubering home, fearing to check your phone which by now was blowing up with not only Twitter notifications but also Rae’s angry messages that vaguely read “what the fuck y/n”. Within the past two hours she had left 57 messages on all platforms collectively, including 7 calls.

Corpse’s last text was over three hours ago.

Now that’s strange. Worry festers quickly. Briefly glancing at your surroundings - the pretty glimmer of passing street lights, neon signs, familiar buildings - you decide that it’s time to check what kind of nuclear explosion you’ve caused.

Your heart drops to the bottom of your stomach as you scroll past the hundreds of tweets and mentions. Scan through Rae’s messages.

You had failed to prepare ahead. Every explosion of such kind is followed by nuclear winter. And Corpse’s lack of messages feels especially cold.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

Not you smiling like a fucking idiot reading his last message! You shrink into the backseat, afraid the driver will accidentally look into the rear-view mirror and see you a bit too happy before asking questions. Good news? Yeah, but it’s not like it’s his any beeswax! In the words of Rihanna, just shut up and drive.

This argument had not yet happened, but you’re preparing, just in case.

As you think up of potential scenarios, your eyes drill into Corpse’s goodnight text. You’ve looked at it enough. Time to turn the phone screen off. Leave the app, at the very least. When the screen dims you instantly press on it to wake it up. This is embarrassing. Maybe the deadly amount of caffeine really did mess you up, big time. Your heart races in your chest, painfully almost. You feel a bit sick. Worst of all, you can’t stop smiling.

A notification from Rae makes you snap out of it. Ah, one more demon to deal with.

However, before you talk to her, you really need to tell Twitter that you’re not with Sykkuno. And apologize to Sykkuno as well.

At least Corpse doesn’t hate you.

Fucking hell, just exit the chat you idiot!

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @slashersdream - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury–moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai - @truly-dionysus - @multi-fandom-central707

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙

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thefanficmonster · 4 years

Text

Let Them Talk

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female) ft. Sykkuno

Warnings: Swearing, Jealousy

Genre: Fluff, a bit of Angst

Summary: We can all agree Among Us is a fun game on its own but what makes it ten times better is playing it with the right company. Y/N could agree 100% Being a streamer herself, she loves playing with the streamer gang that includes her boyfriend and best friend. But, what happens when her boyfriend starts doubting her feelings for him due to her close relationship with her best friend.

Requested by @cheetoscat . Thank you so much for your request! Sorry it took so long to write, I hope the final product is worth the wait. Enjoy! Love, Vy ❤

Y/AU/N - Your Among Us Name

I settle in my gaming chair, adjusting my webcam one last time before joining the Among Us lobby with my friends.

“Hi everyone!“ I say into the mic, a smile plastering itself on my face. Discord is a magical thing, man. It’s so easy to forget that the people you are talking to aren’t around you or within arm’s reach. You could be separated by miles and miles of land or - in our case - oceans as well. Distance becomes negligible when you hear your friends’ voices, their laughter; when you have a good time together despite being each behind a screen, often times alone.

Well, I’m one of those lucky ones that isn’t alone. No one knows that, though. Everyone thinks I’m a single, self-employed girl that’s straight out of college. And they are 90% right. Only thing is - I’m not single. That would be a shocker in and of itself, but revealing who’s changed my relationship status would be a bomb with a whole new intensity.

Speaking of my significant other who shall remain unnamed - just kidding, it’s Corpse - his form materializes in the doorway of my recording room. I give him a hand signal the camera isn’t able to capture, alerting him of the fact that my mic is on. He replies by blowing me a kiss and walking off down the hall to his recording room where he’ll be stationed for the next three or so hours.

I owe this relationship to my best friend Sykkuno. I’m a pretty new and not very well known on the platform, however, thanks to him I haven’t only obtained a boyfriend, but a following of a little over million subscribers as well.

It all started with an invitation to fill a spot in the Among Us lobby him and his friends had created. It took him quite a bit to convince me to join, but I eventually caved and agreed. Suddenly, there I was. In a Discord call, in an Among Us lobby with some of the most well-known names on this platform. I’m talking YouTube legends. I was that puppy playing with the big dogs. The newbie tagging along with the big leagues. Or at least that’s how I felt until we all started vibing - talking and teasing each other as though we’ve known each other for years and not minutes.

When I joined the call, Corpse wasn’t present. After everyone else introduced themselves, Sykkuno informed me that we were waiting for Corpse to return. The name sounded really cool to me and I was genuinely very excited to meet this Corpse guy.

And then, out of the blue - no prep, no warning...

“Did you get someone to fill the spot? Oh- Hello, Y/AU/N.“

…he started talking and he had me star-struck. Apparently, he also had me a blabbering mess cause I remember blurting out: “Whoa, who’s this guy speaking in bold and underlined at the same time?”

The entire lobby, including Corpse, laughed. Sean, or Jack like they called him most often, answered my question, “That is the voice of God, Y/N. Its source is named Corpse, though.”

Heat spread from the bottom of my neck to the tips of my ears. I was mortified by my own stupidity. I was well aware they couldn’t see me and I was incredibly thankful for that, but I simply could not get myself to open my eyes. “I’m so sorry.” I said through nervous laughter.

“No, no, I like that description. Bold and underlined at the same time, huh?“ His voice sounded even more pleasant when it had that teasing, mischievous note to it. That thought popping up in my head only made things worse for my self-esteem and only made me more embarrassed, causing me to hide my face in my hands. “You sure it’s not in Italics as well?“

His question got a weak laugh out of me. “Nope, definitely not. Nothing Italic about it.“

Yes, I don’t even know how some terrible jokes about MS Word fonts got me as far as a romantic relationship, but they did! We’ve been living together for quite some time now, dating for even longer - hiding it just as long. It’s not that we have been actively trying to hide it or something, we just wanted to see how long it would take someone to become sus of us. When we realized no one would notice, we decided that if any rumors about us started, or even fans shipping us, we’d come clean. That hasn’t happened either, so we haven’t had the proper chance to address our relationship and neither of us minds.

At this point, I’m honestly afraid of revealing it to the gaming squad. Sykkuno especially. He’s my best friend, after all. I can see him being hurt by the fact that I kept a secret so big even from him. The last thing I wanna do is hurt my best friend but it’s already too late for that, it’s inevitable.

“Y/N have you looked at Twitter today?“ Rae, another streamer I’ve become close with over the months, says urgently.

Overlooking the tension in her words, I answer: “Nope, haven’t had the time. Why? What’s up?“

Before Rae can say anything else, Sykkuno joins the conversation, his voice somehow even more urgent than Rae’s. “It’s nothing, Y/N. If you see it, just don’t let it bother you, ok?”

Hearing such a tone from Rae isn’t unusual, but hearing it from Sykkuno is completely different and a lot more worrisome. “Well if it has the potential of bothering me it can’t be nothing. What’s going on?”

Just then, my phone dings with two notifications. I check to see they are messages from Rae.

“I sent you screenshots. Sorry, Sykkuno. She has to know in order to address it and defuse it as well. I know better than anyone how fast these rumors can spread, especially if no one reacts to them.“ She says, her tone barely apologetic at all.

I open the screenshots she has sent me and I find myself frozen in shock. Some old pictures of Sykkuno and I have been posted on Twitter by some random user. These pictures have started an entire thread of suspicions surrounding our relationship.

The pictures in question are from a New Year’s Eve party a mutual friend of ours held two years ago. Sure, in the pictures we are a lot closer than what would be considered a platonic proximity. And yes one of the pictures is of me kissing his cheek. Yes we were both a bit tipsy. I acknowledge all those things and yet none of them are concrete reasons for these rumors to have started piling.

“This is silly.“ I finally say after maybe five minutes of silence on my end. ”This is absolutely ridiculous! And why are people so serious about it as well? Actual, important matters get discussed more nonchalantly than the potential relationship between two online personalities! What is this world we live in?“ I know I shouldn’t let these rumors get to me like this, especially not on camera. Still, I can’t help it. I feel it’s so unfair to Corpse. He has to put up with this as well and it’s by no means easy for him. I’ve been shipped with people from our group in the past and he always took those rumors to heart despite acting like he didn’t care. Neither of us should get worked up, but him getting upset about them creates a domino effect with my emotions - causing me to be hit just as hard as him, in some cases harder.

Rumors of the past aside, this one is the worst by far. Mostly cause even Corpse himself suspected something between Sykkuno and I at the very beginning, when we were still acquaintances, barely crossing into the realm of friends.

I pull up Twitter to look for the whole thread, barely sparing my stream chat a glance in the process. It seems pretty split - those who agree with me and those who think Sykkuno and I make ‘such an adorable couple’. The thread is ridiculously long, and if we take into account that it was only started approximately five hours ago, you can either view it as impressive, amusing or sad. Why sad? Because someone has dedicated so much time and effort into fueling the fire of a weakly supported theory.

I love Sykkuno with all my heart. Everyone knows that - fandom, streamer squad, Corpse and Sykkuno included. I love too much and too platonically to ever even dream of having a romantic connection with him. I thought that was more than obvious, but people are either blind here, or just grasping at straws. One thing’s for certain - they’re stepping on a nerve.

“Hey where’s Corpse? Did he disconnect?” Felix asks, gaining my full attention. My eyes dart to the monitor, searching through the little avatars in a desperate search for the one of my boyfriend. It’s nowhere to be found.

“He just messaged me saying his connection is unstable but he might join us later.“ Rae says, “You guys can invite someone to fill...“

“Bathroom break.“ I interrupt, not waiting for a response before shutting my mic off, putting the ‘BRB‘ graphic on my stream and yanking the headset off. I basically run down the hall to Corpse’s recording room, my heart pounding like a bass drum.

“Corpse?!“ I call out to him, one hand already on the doorknob. When five seconds pass by without a response, I barge in.

Inside, I find his usual spot on the gaming chair empty and his slumped figure seated on his bed.

“Corpse?“ I try again, watching for even the tiniest change of body language. He remains still as a statue, not bothering to look up at me either.

His hands are gripping the edge of the mattress, his head hanging low. His eyes are covered by the short curtain of his dark messy curls. I can’t gauge much. Is he angry? Is he sad? Both? How should I approach the situation?

Before I find the answer to any of those questions, I am kneeling in front of him, our height difference eliminated. I gently pry his hands off the mattress and take them in mine, holding them firmly but tenderly. With one hand I reach up to tilt his head so his eyes can meet mine. He complies, his tear-filled brown orbs meeting mine. Those tears have the same effect on me as fifty sharp knives stabbing into my chest. These tears focus their attack straight on my heart, tearing it to pieces.

“Baby....“

He cuts me off, “Why is it always someone else, huh? Do they deem me not worthy of being with you? Do they think you deserve better?” His voice wavers, “Well, they might be right. They are correct and there’s little I can do to prove them wrong. They mean you well, Y/N - pairing you with guys better than me. Those are some loyal fans you’ve got. They only want what’s best for you. And so do I. If ‘best’ is being with someone else then...”

It’s my turn to cut him off. I put an end to his nonsense ramble that’s slowly killing me by pressing my finger against his lips. The sternness of my gaze is beyond me as I get up and walk over to his computer setup. I put on his headset and hop into the call as well as the lobby with his avatar.

“Hey Corpse’s back!” Toast says, “Good to have you back buddy.”

“No, not Corpse.” I say in a casual, nonchalant voice.

“Wait, wha-“ Sean’s voice shows just how confused he is, representing the confusion of the entire lobby actually.

“I know all of you are streaming so this message will be heard by several different audiences so I’m gonna make myself perfectly clear.“ I take a deep breath, “Sykkuno and I aren’t dating. He’s a lovely guy and he deserves to find a girl who will treat him right. That girl isn’t and won’t be me though. I am already treating someone right. Someone who treats me more than right as well. An amazing person. A man-child with a heart of gold. You know him, to a certain extent. He goes by the name of Corpse Husband, but I prefer to call him ‘Love of my life’. Thank you for your time and attention, goodbye.“

I exit the call and turn around to find a stunned Copse looking at me.

“That was meant for you just as much.“ I say with a fake strict attitude, one hand on my hip the other rested on his desk behind me, “Were you listening?“

Within milliseconds, he’s on his feet standing directly in front of me, his lips inches away from mine. “I heard and memorized every word. But...” he pauses for a moment, “I think you have no idea how big of a chaos you just created.”

I smile mischievously, “We’ll worry about that later. For now...” I close the gap between us, connecting our lips in a sweet and passionate kiss.

@susceptible-but-siriusexual @simonsbluee @save-the-sky @hacker-ghost @itsminniekat @bi-andready-tocry @imtiredaffff @jazzkaurtheglorious @hereforbeebo @fandomgirl17 @chrysanthykios @maehemscorpyus @loraleiix @letsloveimagines @annshit @i-cant-choose-a-username-help @enigmaticmaze @divine-artemis @waterlilypat @idontknowwhatthisisfam @evi-ka @classyandfabulous00 @redperson58 @lilysdaydreams @the-fuck-up-of-today @slashersdream @chiefwombathoagiepizza @solowheein @mythicalamphitrite @axen-gers @luckygirl144 @nj01

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tarosin · 3 years

Text

The great adventures of y/n, Tommy, Jack and Tubbo

Requested:yes/no

Pairing: Platonic jack/tommy/tubbo/reader

Summary: another day another adventure

Content warning: cursing / I didn't proof read

An: reader has bright unnatural hair I wrote a lot, I can't figure out how to add read more on mobile I'm sorry

The music you were currently listening to was interrupted by the discord group notifying you that you have a new message.

Tommy: Y/N HOW BUSY ARE YOU TUBBO HAS COME TO VISIT AND JACK IS HERE

y/n: I mean I've currently got hair dye on but it’s being washed off and dried in around 20 minutes, why?

y/n: WAIT TUBBO?!?!

tubbo: oh yeah I forgot to tell you

y/n: how did you forget you know what nevermind, I’m glad you’re here :]

jack: we should be here in an hour so you have plenty of time to get ready

tubbo: what colour dye y/n

y/n: you’ll see soon enough as apparently, you’re all showing up at my house

Tommy: I suggest you wear comfortable shoes

y/n: I am terrified

Tommy: you have nothing to fear... for now

•••

luckily it had only taken you just over 40 minutes to get ready giving you roughly 20 minutes to prepare for the adventure ahead. or so you thought, as soon as you sat down ready to check your phone the sound of Tommy and tubbo laughing could be heard from your room, jack sent a message “hey we got here extremely early I’m sorry there’s no rush the others have been distracted by dreams music :)”

grabbing a backpack from next to your bed you had quickly chucked your phone and purse into the bag unsure as to what you’re going to need today.

•••

as soon as you opened the door you were met with an ecstatic tubbo who instantly pulled you into a hug unable to contain their excitement of seeing their friend

“I HAVEN'T SEEN YOU IN AGES YOUVE CHANGED SO MUCH LOOK AT YOUR HAIR”

“I look exactly the same”

“Now I’m no genius y/n but last time we spoke you didn’t have unnatural hair”

you paused for a moment as tubbo had a point the last time you and tubbo were on face time your hair was classed as a natural colour however today as a fuck you to your school which didn’t allow unnatural hair you decided to dye it your favourite colour.

“you raise a fair point now if you don’t mind releasing me from your grasp I have to lock the door so no one gets in”

•••

“Tommy unlock the door let tubbo and y/n in”

“Y/N YOU'RE HERE- HOLY SHIT YOUR HAIR! JACK ARE YOU SEEING THIS”

“Hello to you too Tommy”

“well if we weren’t going to get noticed at the shopping centre earlier y/ns bright fucking hair will definitely cause people to notice us”

“oh I’m sorry I didn’t expect to be going shopping with a bunch of Minecraft streamers today”

“don’t you stream Minecraft?”

“This isn’t about me jack”

the trip to the shops was surprisingly relaxing y/n sat at the front listening to jack sing along to songs playing on the radio, however, it was clear the boys had something they weren’t telling y/n which became evident through Tommy and tubbo bickering in the back of the car about who was going to tell them. it was a relatively short journey due to the fact you lived close to the city centre

•••

“let’s go shopping boys” Tommy practically yelled to everyone, tubbo held his phone in your direction then looked towards you, nodding at him you grabbed his phone and began recording

“I'm vlogging”

Tommy walked over “YEAHHHHH”

walking past cex you had to put up with Tommy making sex jokes until you made it to game, you stood holding back your laugh as you filmed Tommy and tubbo fighting about who’s paying whilst jack went off to buy a Minecraft squishy and mug despite everyone’s arguments against it. soon enough fans came over asking for photos with you all once the group of fans left jack took over recording for tubbo whilst you went off to quickly buy some games that you could play on stream.

•••

“want a wig bro? jack!”

the four of you walked into the shop, you couldn’t help but stand in awe looking at all the bright colours already questioning what colour to dye your hair next the sound of Tommy and jack being amazed pulled you out of your thoughts

“Gogy goggles, I’m actually buying them”

“i wan’t a pair”

“no, you’re getting a wig jack”

“I don’t want a wig I want George”

“y/n has bright hair and they’re not complaining”

“what do you have against people with colourful hair jack hmm?”

•••

“I'm not happy”

“you look lovely jack”

“we’re getting so many looks”

tubbo stopped everyone to ‘fix’ jacks wig which resulted in everyone laughing once you had finally stopped laughing you noticed tubbo had walked off and you were convinced jack had randomly decided to record strangers until you saw tubbo going up and down escalators

“oh there he goes again”

“pov you’re thinking about bees”

“where to next boys?”

Tommy pointed towards the lift

“Is this a lift for us”

Tommy noticed the safety sign and automatically made comments about it

“keeping us all safe is what I would say if I wasn’t carrying a knife”

“oh same Tommy”

“look you can see me”

taking that as an invitation to join the vlog you stood behind tubbo and pointed at the sign again and looked at Tommy and jack

“keeping us all safe is what I would say if we weren’t about to do this-“

the three of you went to jump up and down

“NO”

the four of you quietly left the lift however you were convinced that the public heard Tommy comment on having a knife and you threatening to jump as once the lift opened everyone was staring at you but it could also be due to the fact you had brightly coloured hair and somehow convinced jack to keep the wig on, you all spent a long time trying to convince Tommy to get a new outfit, eventually you went into another shop a certain keyboard caught your eye

“I’ve found my home, ill stay here at the gamer bunker”

you decided now was the perfect time to sneak off to buy the keyboard that had caught your eye, once tubbo noticed it was too late you stood holding the bag with your purchase leaving you stood in the middle of the shop defending your purchase to him claiming that it was a business expense and not just because you thought it looked cool.

“you told me you wanted to save your money”

“it lights up tubbo and it fits the vibe of my room”

Tommy placed his arm on your head treating you as an armrest as you were shorter than him and he knew it annoyed you

“they have a point tubbo it lights up”

once the recording ended you made your way back to the car

“say y/n you wouldn’t mind if me Tommy and jack stayed the night as tomorrow we were thinking-“

“sure thing”

“YESSSSSS”

•••

the next day you were woken up at 9 am by Tommy stood at the foot of your bed

“hi y/n”

“WHAT THE FUCK- oh hi Tommy Jesus christ do you know how horrifying that was to wake up to”

“Sorry bout that but if I didn’t wake you up now you’d only wake up in the afternoon and we need to go soon I’ll leave you to get ready”

you noticed a note was next to a jumper on the floor ‘hi, thanks for letting us stay the night I really liked your hoodie so I decided to wear it today here’s mine in exchange- Tubbo :D’

normally you’d be concerned that someone stole your hoodie as you live with your parents however today was an exception once you were all ready you set off jack pulled into a McDonald's drive-through so you could all get breakfast

“nice hoodie y/n”

“Thanks, someone took mine and decided to make a trade”

“you’re welcome”

the journey was quiet again you sat next to tubbo in the back Tommy sat at the front screaming at jack and trying to distract him and people around you decided to took a picture with tubbo who now had his arm wrapped around you as it was rather cold in the car and posted it to Twitter ‘@ ranboosaysstuff wish you were here :D’ less than a minute later you received 2 notifications ‘ranboosaysstuff replied to your tweet: same’ ‘ ranboosaysstuff has tweeted: *the spongebob gif*’

•••

soon enough you all arrived at mint golf to say you we’re excited would be an understatement

“can I get the shortest club you have”

you stood hiding your face in the jumper tubbo left you whilst you laughed a few minutes later you received a call from ranboo the others said they’d sort everything for you whilst you answered

“what’s up tall one”

“stay safe okay”

“ranboo it’s mini-golf I’m not fighting criminals”

“yes but I know how clumsy you are”

“first of all rude second of all fuck you third of all jealousy isn’t a good look on you” you managed to say through laughter

“jokes aside please come to the UK boo”

“oh sure I’ll go book a plane ticket now” *ranboo ended the call*

ranboo made jokes like that before however this time sounded a lot more serious and you had no idea why he called you so you made a mental note to call him again later. once with friends again you were met with Tommy telling the worker all about you all

“yeah we’re big on the influencing”

“What on earth did I walk in on”

“no time to explain let’s go golf”

you were handed a club and a ball and were dragged away by jack

•••

tubbo joked about getting a hole on one as soon as it was his go, you bet £10 with jack he wouldn't

“hand over the money y/n”

you looked at Tommy who was now recording you handing jack the money “so today we have learnt to not underestimate your friends and that gambling is bad. you lose your money to a tall bald guy”

to put it politely you and Tommy found out that mini golf is not your calling in life

“ill stick to streaming“

“you’re both losing by the way”

“yeah well- why and how does tubbo have soup”

tubbo stood cradling the soup as though it was a child

“Some things I can’t explain to you”

you stood tilting your head to the side questioning where the hell he got soup from

“eh”

“soups like a small child I take care of it as if it was my own”

you couldn’t contain your laughter at this point the confused faces of your friends alongside tubbos happiness of soup sent you over the edge so you decided to just sit down before you fall as your knees were already weak from laughing too much

“where did you get the soup from”

“I manifested it”

•••

after a few solid minutes of arguing over soup you and Tommy dropping the phone you all continued with bowling.

“tubbo get out of the way of my dream ball”

you stood recording jack cheering him on tubbo had different plans and kicked the ball away resulting in jack giving up and copying what you had been doing most of the rounds, after missing the hole 3 times each go, picking up the ball and placing it in the hole however again he missed

“you can’t be serious”

“golf isn’t for everyone big man”

Tommy took the phone from you to record “pov you’re me golfing”

•••

“how do we get across there”

“probably the bridge”

Tommy pulled to rope moving the bridge across the gap

“Why thank you, Tommy, wouldn’t have been able to do it without you”

you laughed

“you're extremely welcome y/n it was extremely easy because I’m a big muscly man”

golf was finally going well till you hit the ball a bit too hard causing it to go over the fence tubbo was able to get the ball back

“I’ve been watching a lot of doctor shows” you stood amazed at how far you made the ball go

“see the issue is its mini golf. if this was regular golf I'd have got a hole in one I'm telling you”

•••

“I'm never being in your vlog again”

jack looked at you and tubbo who was now laughing at you pretending to worship the can of soup in the hole

“Tommy please come back”

the rest of the game was chaos, you kept missing the hole then claiming to rage quit golf tubbo and Tommy kept making jokes jack left his drink somewhere then had to go back and find it, no one had been paying attention to you which allowed you to take the score sheet and make it so you had won the game eventually he game was over you had declared yourself the champion of golf despite the fact everyone was better than you including Tommy

•••

the journey back was chaos you called ranboo who claimed he only called you to plan a video/stream with you however it was clear that wasn’t the reason tubbo whispered to you so no one could hear

“I think he wants to be here with us I think he’s jealous”

you laughed and nodded

“of course”

eventually, you all made it back to yours, ranboo said goodbye to everyone then ended the call now it was time for you to say your goodbyes. since your love language was physical touch you hugged everyone. As you walked into your house Tommy yelled “Y/N HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT PLANES”

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castiel-left-his-mark-on-me · 3 years

Note

Hi, Ary, very inactive ex-mutual(i think???) here. Good to see you thriving! ♥ It's been a while since I've dipped my head into cockles stuff. Could I perchance maybe ask uuuuum tf is going on??? lol I see Mish apparently confirmed he used to stay over at Jensen's in Van, and heard newbs were apparently freaking out about it and getting a bit messy, which I get that, business as usual. But I'm also seeing shit about spin-offs? And Jared getting in a twitter fight with Jensen, causing/resulting in stans to going feral and sending hate?? I know you're not as big a fan of Jar, but that's part of why I figured I'd ask you, you usually have a really level head about this kinda stuff. If you don't wanna answer publically, or at all, that's totally chill!

Hey, Rhi! We're still mutuals! Of course we're still mutuals! When I saw the notification of your ask, I was like "Hey! I haven't seen you in a while!" and my husband was like "???" and I said "Tumblr" and he said "Oh."

It was a wild time haha.

In any case, welcome back to the dumpster fire! We are obviously still a mess. So to catch you up, I guess I will start by summarizing both before and after the finale (not sure where you left off so this might be redundant for you) ... basically, it became obvious as the end of the show neared that Jensen was not on board with the plan for the finale; although Jared never stopped singing its praises.

We got confirmation of this during a zoom interview where Jensen said that he actually went into the writers room as well as called Kripke to basically voice how he didn't agree with the direction the final season was going, but he was shot down on all fronts. In another interview, he was asked "What would you tell your younger self going into this career?" And Jensen responded with: "I would tell myself to just keep your head down and do the work" meaning, "Don't try to change things because you can't." I also think that this whole situation is what he wrote "Let Me Be" about for his first Radio Company album, but that is just my own speculation. All of his reluctance, even though he always followed it up with "But I eventually saw the value in the script" or "I came around in the end" (which never sounded sincere, and I don't think he was really trying to sound sincere) made us all very nervous about what was to come for 15x20; and of course, when the last two episodes aired, we saw just how badly they fucked it up.

After the awful finale, the entire fandom became aware of the CW's heavy handed role in the thing, basically squeezing all the life out of SPN to shape it into a ramp from which Walker could launch itself. They not only erased all the love and joy and representation that Cas's love confession gave us, they also tore apart the things that made sense about the bond between Sam and Dean, making it really just about Sam-- and therefore Jared, which of course, Jared seemed to be fine with ... even though no one else was. Misha barely said anything during the finale, and a few of the other actors talked about the show ending in various posts, but Jared tweeted up a storm ... and Jensen? Jensen just sat in sexy-silent resentment of the whole thing. He didn't tweet, he didn't post, he didn't say a word once he no longer had to, and I think that's because he was already going full-steam-ahead on his plans for redemption.

Which brings us to Chaos Machine-- Jensen and Danneel's new production company that is being run by a queer creative director and has a mantra of inclusivity and representation woven throughout it's fabric; and apparently, the first story that Jensen wanted to tell through this new platform is the origin story of Sam and Dean's parents; so last week (?) he announced the upcoming production of "The Winchesters" -- the untold love story of John and Mary. Obviously, John is not the most likable character from the show, so the idea was met with a lot of resentment when it was first announced, but Jensen has gone on to say that he is excited to take on the task of telling the "true" story behind these characters-- the one that makes sense with the pre-established canon and doesn't reject it. So, given that, the idea is being mulled over with a bit more optimism from the fandom.

Who isn't being optimistic though?

Jared Padalecki.

When Jensen made this announcement on Twitter, many of his friends and coworkers congratulated him, but not Jared. Jared responded with a passive aggressive: "I'm happy for you, man, but I wish I didn't hear about it through Twitter." This of course, sent all the die-hard Jared fans into a tizzy and they immediately began asking him if he was serious (hoping it was just a joke-- we all hoped it was because there would be fallout no matter what one's opinion on Jared is). Instead of leaving it there though or just deleting that tweet, Jared went on to tweet some more, saying that he was being serious that he didn't know about the plans for the prequel, and that he was "gutted" that Sam apparenlty wouldn't be included (mind you, this a prequel to SPN... meaning BEFORE Sam and Dean were even born, so how could Sam be included? But Dean is apparently narrating this story so maybe Jared thought Sam should be helping to narrate it? I don't know). But Jared being Jared couldn't just leave that there, he then went on to tweet at Robbie Thompson who was announced as a writer for "The Winchesters" so then Jared went off on him too, calling him "Brutus" and a "coward" acting like Robbie betrayed him (speculation is-- Robbie refused to write for Walker, so Jared is pissed that he essentially chose Jensen over him). He did fairly quickly, remove that tweet attacking Robbie, but of course the damage was done at that point. And it truly only took his first tweet calling out Jensen for some people to be like "Jared-- that sucks if you didn't know but why are you saying any of this publicly?"

As you might know, Jared has had issues in the past with posting hurtful things on social media, and has even used it as a tool for attack before-- calling out customer service agents and public workers that he felt have wronged him, which is bad enough ... but for him to then do the same thing to his best friend of well over a decade? Many people who had once liked him or at least gave him the benefit of the doubt (I used to ...) stopped after this latest twitter tantrum.

However, some people have suspected for some time that J2 had a falling out either shortly before the finale or just after. Their public/social media interactions have seemed awkward, stilted or even non-existent in moments that they normally wouldn't be. In the past year, when Walker premiered, Jensen didn't say much about his friend's new venture other than a "Congrats. buddy" here and there. Later, we learned that Jensen refused to work on the show ... Jared said he make him do it, drag Jensen to the set "kicking and screaming" which made many fans quirk up an eyebrow because, why would Jensen put up a fight unless the two weren't as close as they used to be? And then Jensen moved his family to Colorado (either permanently or for an extended period at least) which is notable considering how he moved to Texas seemingly to be closer to Jared, even buying a house that was near his. All this was just speculation though; but it wasn't until Jared's tweet complaining about not knowing about the prequel that the theories behind them falling out, became less theory and more fact.

The day after his twitter tantrum, Jared tweeted again-- not retracting his statements or apologizing, but instead saying that he and Jensen "talked" and were "all good". Jensen then tweeted too, parroting this statement to some degree, which only made the whole thing even more sour in the mouths of the fans. The fact that Jared didn't apologize for his outburst and throwing his friend under the bus, and also the fact that Jensen-- Mr. Sexy Silence, Mr. Never Tweets, Mr. Tech-Ignorant-and-Proud, actually had to POST SOMETHING saying that he and Jared made up, it just screamed OPTICS. It was obviously the work of agents and PR firms and lots of people going "Look, if you two keep beefing, that will mean the death of both of your projects. Even more people will stop watching Walker, and this SPN prequel will never get picked up due to the scandal." So, the two "made nice" publicly to quell the chaos, but in my opinion, it's all too little too late. Jared started a storm that he can't contain now with a little tweet, and it seems like he knows that too because before he talked about him and Jensen making up, he asked that people "not send threats". He could have just as easily said that he shouldn't have made this a public issue and that he's sorry, but instead, he continued to play the victim and stoke the flames by alerting us all to the damage he's done.

Now, like I said before-- I used to give him the benefit of the doubt. I don't think he's an awful human or that he deserves to be attacked or anything, but he is an adult man with very poor judgment and an obvious selfish-streak a mile wide. He should know better, and he should have more respect for his so-called "friends" and "brothers" than to make them targets to public ridicule. I have a hard time believing that Jensen still sees Jared the way he used to, and I wouldn't blame him a bit for wanting to pull away-- especially when he's moving on to so many new and exciting things. Jared certainly deserves happiness just as much as anyone else, but he went on twitter and basically asked for a scandal, and he got one.

The question is now-- was there a motive behind it? Was just looking for a reason to bring his and Jensen's falling out to light-- while making himself looking like the victim in the process? Or did he genuinely not know about the prequel and just decided to go about "not knowing" in the most toxic and hurtful way he could manage?

In any case, that is the drama ... that is the J2 insanity in a rather lengthy nutshell ... that is the tea ... and I hope it all makes sense.

But the good news out of all of this is, Cockles is thriving-- they are happy and in love and Jensen calls Misha "Babe" and Misha misses waking up to see Jensen in the morning, and they are just as cute and wonderful as can be.

So, I will end that there. I am so glad to see you back, and I hope I answered all your questions in a way that made sense ... I tried anyway!

💖💖💖

#omg #I don't even know if this makes sense #this took way too long to write #j2 #cockles #long post #spn family #so glad you see you back again my dear #welcome to hell #it's hotter now

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hannie-dul-set · 3 years

Text

“i'll take your word for it and no one else's.” [lee jeno]

SUMMARY | maybe snooping through your friend’s phone wasn’t that much of a good idea. or maybe it was. either way, you didn’t regret it. PAIRING | lee jeno x reader GENRE | friends to something, fluff, lots of bickering JHDFJ WARNINGS | swearing, invasion of privacy (LMAO idk) WORD COUNT | 2.1k TAGLIST | @danishmiilk @lucyinthesunshinee @sehunniepot @nct-writers @czennienet @neowritingsnet

a/n: i didn’t think i’d turn another one of my dreams into a fic, but here we are HAHHAHA i tweaked a few bits and pieces to make it work (setting + added some dialogue + changed the ending because i WOKE UP before it could finish hmph) but please enjoy this unscheduled fic!! <3

early summer afternoons were warm.

bright rays of the sun were showering on your skin as you lounged on the park bench, hot enough to make you feel the season but not too hot to singe your skin. it was the perfect weather to waste the day outside, and your younger brother and cousin decided to haul you outside so they can play basketball at the park.

but you didn't know why your friend jeno decided to come along.

"your brother messaged me," he grinned at you, plopping down beside you with a long, refreshed sigh. a towel was slung around his neck and he used it to wipe the sweat on his face. "what? why are you staring at me like that?"

"since when were you close with my brother?"

"am i not allowed to be friends with the little guy?" he joked, but apparently he took the unamused look on your face completely the wrong way. "oh my god, are you afraid that he'll take all my attention away from you?" to further tease, he brought his smug face closer to yours that was dumbfounded in shock, his stupidly irritating smile moving in closer.

sometimes you wondered if this was the same boy who helped you cross the street the first time you met.

but you loved him nonetheless.

"like hell i want your attention," you sneered, lightly shoving him away with a glare. he only laughed at your display of annoyance. "go back to playing with the kids or something, you goof."

the never leaving grin in his face seemed brighter against the sun, and he playfully ruffled your hair before running off to disappear into the court.

"as you wish, m'lady."

you let out a huff of air, rolling your eyes as your cheeks were involuntary tugged upwards, prompting a smile to form on your lips. you brought your hands to your hair, fixing the mess that jeno left with, and your gaze landed on the phone he left beside you. the screen flashed on. someone was calling him.

brows knitted together, you picked up the ringing phone, unable to recognize the caller id. you brought the device to your ear, standing up walking towards the court— you figured that you'd just answer whoever that was now and just pass it on to jeno once he was at reach.

"hello?"

"oh, hello there!" there was a pause from the caller "is lee jeno around, miss? would you mind giving the phone to him?"

the voice was that of a middle aged woman's, but it wasn't someone that you recognized. you assumed it was a relative of his or something because you'd know that this was his mom if it were her. "ah, give me a moment! i'll just look for him."

your feet stopped at the edge of the court, the sound of a ball bouncing into the concrete jarring against your ears. not bothering to look at the scene in front if you, you covered the mic with your hand before deciding to shout.

"jeno! someone's calling you!"

there was no usual prompt answer from your friend.

"he's not here!"

the loud voice of your brother answered instead, causing you to narrow your eyes into the court scene with a tinge of confusion masking your expression. there was indeed no mop of blue hair within the area, and you were only confused even further.

"where did he— aish, nevermind."

scratching your head, you swiveled your heels and decided to just head back to the bench. "hi, sorry. i'm not sure where he is right now. so if it's fine with you, can you call him again later? or maybe i could just tell him to call you back when he returns?"

"oh, then can you just relay this to him? it won't take that long, i promise."

you inwardly sighed, but agreed nevertheless. oh, you were definitely gonna ask him to treat you and the kids dinner later. why the fuck did he just disappear like that? now you were responsible for memorizing whatever this woman was telling you (apparently it was about an architecture summer program he was interested in— the lady was a head from his department and she was just calling to tell him that he was accepted. she says she'll be forwarding more details later through text).

"alright, thank you! i'll be sure to inform him when he gets back."

the call ended, and you groaned. you were about to close the phone, but then all of a sudden a notification appeared with a quiet ding!

[haechan 🌟 liked your retweet.]

ding!

[ohhh shit why do i feel like i know who this is.]

"huh."

you knew that you shouldn't be snooping inside your friend's phone. you knew that you shouldn't be invading his privacy no matter how enticingly juicy the bait was. you knew that it was flat out wrong. but—

"ah, just a peek," you clicked on the notification. "payback for making me deal with his stuff."

a hint of excitement rushed through you. jeno never told you his twitter. actually, you didn't even know he had one. he was always buried with studies, sports, and friends so you didn't expect him to keep up with social media— this fact enough was surprising, but the moment the screen finally loaded the tweet

you were even more surprised than you were a few seconds ago.

[@markly tweeted: "it's kind of funny how sometimes we just meet random people at the most random of moments and you don't expect it but they just end up sticking by your side until now"]

[@leejeno quoted: "yeah. a few years back, i saw this girl while i was walking. it wasn't the usual path that i took to school. i saw her having trouble crossing the street because there was a dog hanging around (she's scared of them) so i decided to help her. she couldn't even look at my face back then out of embarrassment but earlier we were calling until four in the morning. if i took a different path that day or if i didn't help her, i don't know how i'd be like right now because she's become one of the most important people in my life."]

your heart skipped a beat. two beats. three. it was running a mile a minute and you could barely even breathe to catch up.

[@do0 replied: how are you two right now?]

[@leejeno replied: "we're good haha. i'm going with her and her brother to the park later. we're still really good friends.]

[@leejeno replied: but i'm not sure if i want things to stop there."]

"hey, sorry for running off there. i went to get some— whoa. whats up?"

oh my fucking god.

you shot up, eyes wide, and you automatically turned off the phone. broken stutters left your lips, as the leaping of your heart to your throat prevented you from saying even a semblance of a coherent sentence. all you could think of when you met his worried gaze, the way he rushed to your side to check on you, was the last thing you read. your grip on his phone tightened.

but i'm not sure if i want things to stop there

you were gonna fucking lose it.

"hey, are you okay?"

quick, gentle hands landed on your cheeks, fingers brushing against your skin like a match igniting a flame. you nearly got lost and tongue-tied all over again, but you quickly slapped his hands away in a scolding fit. "jesus christ, i'm fine. you just surprised me. are you a ghost or something?" you glared at jeno, but it only lasted one second because you couldn't bear to look at him without your insides going crazy. because of that, your eyes flicked to the plastic bag he dropped onto the bench. he brought you something to eat.

"a-and before you ask—" you defended yourself indignantly when he didn't even accuse you of anything. "i wasn't snooping. the school called. it was about your summer program. you got in."

"oh? they called already?" you nodded. "ah, let's talk while walking— the kids are mad because i only got you food. they're asking me to buy the entire store for them to compensate," he released an airy laugh. you mentally scolded yourself.

keep it cool. you repeated the mantra inside your head as you strided beside jeno, your brother and cousin racing ahead of you. street lights were lighting up and the sky was fading into the night. cool cool cool cool cool. keep it cool.

the walk to the store felt way too gruelling than it normally would. it wasn't even that far. you told jeno everything the lady had told you, including the more detailed texts that she'd be sending later on. you thought that he'd be a lot more excited after hearing— he was interested, after all. but to you, he just seemed dismissive. "should i go?" he mindlessly asked.

"what are you talking about?" your brows furrowed. "yeah, of course. you wanted to, right?"

"but it's gonna last an entire month this summer," he yawed, stretching out his arms and hooking you by the neck, causing you to halt and stumble into him. you held back a squeak, and he looked at you, eyes gleaming with curious anticipation. a car sped by. "you still want me to go?"

those damned words that you read echoed inside your head again. you wondered if it resonated into the fucking nerves of your heart, as well.

"i—i mean," you stammered. "it's only one month. and it would also help you a lot in the future, right? you'd make a lot of connections during the camp. so yeah, i do want you to go."

he blinked at you. a hum sounded from his closed lips. he let go of you and resumed walking. you gaped when he left you behind.

was this karma?

"hey, what the hell?" quickly, you caught up to him, grabbing onto the sleeve of his shirt so that you could hang on to him. "why are you being sulky? i didn't do anything wrong!" technically you did do something wrong, but he didn't have to know that.

"you said you wanted me to go."

"you're a baby," you scrunched your nose is disapproval. "i only said that because you said you wanted to go."

jeno abruptly stopped. maybe you were causing a scene in front of all the passersby, but you really didn't give a fuck anymore when your head was in a looped up mess. all thanks to your extremely difficult friend who apparently doesn't want to just be your friend. you swore that he was driving you insane on purpose.

he pulled out his phone and faced the screen to you. your sweat dropped.

[@leejeno replied: but i'm not sure if i want things to stop there."]

"even after reading this," he started. "you still want me to go?"

"w-well."

he just had to be so fucking sharp. well, you weren't exactly slick either. maybe he saw a glimpse of the screen before you got to turn it off earlier. heat started to rise from your neck into your face, a grinding mixture of embarrassment and desire to be hit by a moving truck afflicting your nerves. why were you the one suffering? shouldn't it be him?

"no."

he hummed, turning off his phone and shoving the device into his pocket. arms crossed, he leaned in to your face, bearing a look of feigned innocence. "but you said i'd make a lot of useful connections."

"you can make those anywhere."

"and it's only a month, right?"

"that's thirty days too long."

"and—"

"oh, come on!" you exclaimed, balling your fists in vexation. another car sped by with an accompanied honk. jeno simply wore a look of faint amusement at your little outburst. "i don't want you to join your stupid summer program. happy now?"

"well, if you say so."

you stared at him. he patted your head, eyes disappearing into a pair of crescents with a smile.

"i'll take your word for it and no one else's."

you were left frozen and dumbfounded in the middle of the sidewalk as jeno brazenly spun his heels to chase after the runaway kids that went before you— literally leaving you behind. letting a curse slip past your breath, you also went after them. he was definitely driving you insane on purpose.

sometimes you wondered if this was the same boy who helped you cross the street the first time you met.

this was one of those times.

"you said you weren't gonna go, you asshole!"

"payback for snooping through my phone!"

but you could still love him nonetheless.

#NCT-WRITERS #czennet #neowritingsnet #jeno x reader #lee jeno x reader #nct jeno x reader #lee jeno fluff #lee jeno scenarios #jeno scenarios #jeno fluff #lee jeno fanfic #jeno fanfic #nct dream x reader #nct dream scenarios #nct dream fluff

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tchallasbabymama · 3 years

Text

Potential Breakup Fic

Yes, this is inspired by the re-release of the classic “Potential Breakup Song” by legends Aly & AJ. Check out the rest of my Masterlist HERE. Enjoy!

Word count: 2223

CW: Niggas aint shit. Kiana sat on her couch and tried not to cry into her glass of merlot. She took off her heels and got up to unzip her dress and take off her bra since she knew she wouldn’t be going anywhere tonight. She checked her phone again and was met with an empty screen. No notifications, no missed calls. She threw her phone down in anger, and was thankful when she noticed the screen didn’t crack.

“I can't believe this nigga.”

She looked at the clock and shook her head. It was 12:07am, and her 25th birthday was officially over without so much as a word from her boyfriend. Just last night he had told her to be ready by 7, and she hadn't heard from him since.

They had been together, on and off, for three years. They met their junior year at Howard, but didn’t hit it off right away. He was too slick for her liking, but over time he eventually weaseled his way into her heart. His smile lit up the whole room and his big brown eyes could seduce anyone just like that. And he did, constantly. T’Challa was a huge flirt, and it was cute when they were still single and just getting to know each other, but even now T’Challa turns his charm on for every pretty face he sees. Kiana had brought it up to him many times, letting him know how disrespected she felt. He would always say the same thing.

“But entle, I’m just being nice. You know I only have eyes for you.”

She did know that once, but that ended about a year and a half ago when she was casually scrolling through twitter on his phone and caught him cheating.

“T’Challa!”

“Yes, my love?”

“What the fuck is this?!”

“Why are you on my phone?!”

“Don't fucking raise your voice at me, I’m not in the wrong here. I saw a funny tweet and started scrolling when YOU got a text from some bitch named Jasmine talking bout ‘I miss you daddy’ and sending you pictures of her pussy. Care to explain?”

He reached for the phone and she pulled it away from him.

“Nah-uh, talk.”

He sighed in exasperation.

“If you give me the phone I can explain, sithan-”

“Don’t you fucking ‘sweetheart’ me, answer the goddamn question. How long, T’Challa?!”

“Just once. Eh, one and a half maybe-”

He was interrupted by a throw pillow to the head.

“How the fuck do you halfway cheat nigga?!”

“She just gave me head the first ti-”

“That’s still cheating!”

“Will you lower your voice? You have neighbors.”

“Fuck! Them! Did you even use a condom?”

“Yes, Kiana I’m not-”

“Stupid? You’re not stupid?” Kiana laughed. “Get the fuck out of my apartment.”

“My love, I-”

“Oh now I’m your love? Where the fuck was that energy when you were balls deep in this other bitch?!”

T’Challa stood there dumbstruck. He had never seen Kiana get this angry and didn’t know what to say. He knew he was wrong when he did it, but seeing the tears streaming down her face made him truly regret what he’d done. She had been so busy with school and work that she barely had time for him anymore. He had needs and just so happened to stumble upon someone more than willing to fulfil them.

He cursed himself for not locking his phone or at the very least, turning it over.

“How many, T’Challa...” Kiana sniffled.

“I told you, it was only twice-”

“How many women?!”

He froze, not knowing if he should mention Lisa since that was so much earlier in their relationship.

“Oh my god...oh my god...oh my- are you fucking serious?! I-I have to...I have to go get tested, I-”

“Kia-”

“What?!”

She looked at him with such fierceness that he shrunk under her gaze.

“I-I am sorry, I didn’t do it to hurt you, I was-”

He was stopped by a heavy-handed slap across his cheek that nearly knocked him over.

“Get the fuck out.” She said, barely above a whisper.

Six months later they ran into each other in the grocery store and decided to catch up over a cup of coffee. Kiana had healed and moved on, but T’Challa was still stuck on her. They had spent almost two good years together before he ruined what they had, and he just couldn’t let it go. He loved her, and he was determined to make it work this time.

Or so he really, truly thought before he met Marci...and Tanisha...

T’Challa knew he wasn’t a one-woman man, but he just couldn’t let Kiana go. His dalliances were never serious, just enough to scratch his constant itching. Sometimes they were a one-time thing, but others stuck around if they were good enough and knew how to be discreet. No matter what though, he always came back home to Kiana because despite his trash behavior, he really did love her in his own toxic way.

However, he didn’t love her enough to double check his calendar before leaving work on her birthday, or any day leading up to it. He had forgotten what day it was, and when he told Kiana to be ready at 7 he just meant for a regular date night.

It had been a long day at the Wakandan Embassy and Kiana’s Prince Charming needed a drink more than anything. He stopped at the first bar he came across that looked halfway decent. T’Challa walked up to the bar and caught the eye of the beautiful barkeep.

“Hiya, what can I do for you?”

T’Challa smiled his panty-dropping smile and she smiled back, revealing her perfect, white teeth. There was nothing he loved more than a pretty smile.

“Well, miss…”

“Tanisha,” she responded while using both arms to mix a shaker full of liquid courage and ice. His eyes avoided her chest, slyly watching in the periphery only.

“Well, Miss Tanisha, I had a horrible day at work and I am in need of a whiskey on the rocks. Preferably Jack, but truly anything will do.”

“We all have those days honey. Here’s a double on the house,” she said as she slid the drink to him across the bar top with a wink.

T’Challa licked his lips and lifted his glass to her before taking a sip of the warm amber liquid. He let out a sigh and his day seemed to melt away.

Tanisha kept coming back to check on him and they would chat when the crowd died down. T’Challa was on his third double when she came over with a plate of wings.

“You’re an angel.” He dug into the wings and made a complete mess on his shirt, so he went to the bathroom to try to wash the stain out. On his way back to the bar he noticed a very tall and sweaty man leaning over the bar trying to talk to Tanisha. From what he could see, she wasn’t feeling the conversation, but he kept approaching her anyway. When T’Challa returned to his seat she immediately gravitated towards him. This angered Mr. Tall and Sweaty, who drunkenly attempted to punch T’Challa in the face. T’Challa dodged the lazy punch and knocked him out cold with one hit. Security saw the whole thing go down, and removed Tall and Sweaty from the building once he came to.

“What you got planned for the night, handsome?”

“Nothing at all, why do you ask?”

“I get off at 9, wanna hang out?”

“Absolutely.”

“Good, now here’s a water.”

“Thank you, angel.”

By 10pm he was already halfway inside her, and when his phone started vibrating he was too wrapped up in her to think anything of it. Without looking he quieted the annoying sound and turned the phone off so he could focus on the task at hand.

Two and a half hours later, T’Challa was creeping out of Tanisha’s bed right as Kiana was sliding into hers. She had washed off all her makeup, but she didn’t have the emotional energy to tie up her hair. Normally she would wear one of T’Challa’s t-shirts, but she was too angry with him so she slept in a cute nighty she never wore. She admired herself in the mirror for half a second before bursting into tears and pulling the covers up to her head. She tried to stop crying, but the tears kept coming and she eventually gave herself a headache. How could he miss her birthday?

Kiana got up and threw on her plush maroon robe before she padded to the bathroom to grab some Advil. On the way she noticed her phone getting multiple notifications, the first of which was from her best friend Bebe.

“Have u seen this?! Sis, I’m so sorry. When we slashing his tires? Just 3 tho, this nigga needs to pay $$$.”

“What the fuck is she talking about?”

Kiana clicked the link and saw that it was Bebe’s cousin Darrell’s Instagram Story. Apparently there was a fight at the bar where he was celebrating a coworker’s promotion and he had filmed it for all of Instagram to see. Kayla stared at her phone in shock. There was her aint-shit boyfriend at a goddamn bar on her fucking birthday. She watched him punch a guy in the face on her birthday. At a bar. Without her.

She thought the kicker came when she saw him turn around and flirt with the bartender, but the story after that just about killed her. There he was, leading her out the back door with his hand too far down on her lower back to be simply platonic. Even the caption read “Ooooh someone’s about to get some ‘thank you’ pussy. That damsel in distress pussy hit different!”

Kiana saw red and almost cracked her phone for a second time tonight.

She grabbed the remaining merlot and downed it before throwing the bottle at the picture of them on the fridge. She watched the glass shatter and cut their faces while the trace bit of deep red wine seeped down the picture like blood. She wanted to trash the whole place, but remembered she would have to clean it later. Kiana started to hyperventilate and felt like she needed to get some air when she heard the lock turn.

“Kiki, what are you doin- are you ok? What happened here?”

Kiana ignored him as she walked towards where she threw her phone, silently pulling up the story and handing it to him. She watched his face go from confused, to shocked, to fearful. No regret, though.

“Ki-”

“Give me your key.”

“Kiana, please let me-”

“The key. Now,” she said with her voice completely devoid of any emotion.

T’Challa assumed she would be angry and yell or throw things, but this quiet storm terrified him. To him, it felt like she didn’t even care anymore. He was right.

He slowly reached his hand out and she snatched the key ring, removing hers and tossing the rest back to him.

“I’ll have your stuff packed by the morning. It’ll be outside my door by 8am. If it’s still there when I get back from work it’s going in the trash.”

T’Challa couldn’t bear the coldness in her voice. Tears rolled down his face and his knees buckled.

“Kiana, please. I can explain, I didn-”

“I don't give a fuck what you did or didnt do. You know why?”

“W-why?”

“Because it was my birthday, T’Challa. MY FUCKING BIRTHDAY and YOU forgot it. Not only did you forget it, my gift was you fucking some other bitch and leaving me lonely yet again. So no, I don't care if you fucked her or not even though I know your sorry ass did. I know she’s probably not the only one because I saw how easily you slid on in there in that video. You were way too comfortable, so I don't even want to ask you how many because it doesnt fucking matter anymore. Now you can stick your dick in every fine ass Black girl you see without remorse, oh wait...you were already doing that. So fuck you, get out my apartment before I call my brothers.”

“Kiana…”

“5, 4, 3,...” Kiana counted as she dialed her eldest brother Trey’s number, ignoring T'Challa's pathetic excuses. “2, 1… Hey Trey, I’m sorry did I wake you up?...Yeah I have a situat- oh look at that, his bitch ass is leaving-”

“I am sorry, Kiana,” T’Challa said one last time before she slammed the door in his face. He could hear her on the other side of the door explaining the situation to her brother, and when she started to cry it finally hit him. Her wails broke his spirit and more tears fell from his eyes.

He knew Trey would be over soon to comfort his baby sister and he needed to get the hell out of dodge, so T’Challa left Kiana’s apartment and never came back. Not even for his things, which turned out to be the best thing for Kiana because she and her girls got to burn it all up in Trey’s backyard fire pit and finally release that toxic man from her life.

#cecewritessometimes #black panther fic #tchalla fic #tchalla x oc #angst #niggas aint shit #aly & aj #potential breakup song

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blushie14 · 4 years

Text

Jealousy [Skephalo]

I felt like actually trying to write something today. This time, I didn't improvise for 20 minutes. This features a jealous Skeppy who has recently moved in with a certain someone... Hope you enjoy! :P

Oh my god, no. I am not. This is not happening right now. Zak cringes at himself, wondering how his feelings got him roped into this kind of situation.

Zak has been Darryl's roommate for a couple of weeks now, and it's probably one of the best decisions he ever made. Darryl as a roommate is amazing and so much fun to have around. Their friendship has gotten a lot stronger as they grew closer. It made Zak really happy, and yet really REALLY anxious.

Zak didn't want to admit it, but he knows that he really likes Darryl. As he spent more time around him, his crush for his best friend has only gotten stronger. Zak figures that Darryl would never reciprocate those feelings, so he tries his best to ignore the butterflies in his stomach whenever they interact. It hurts a little, but it's for the sake of their friendship. He can usually hide those feelings with ease.

But apparently, that's not the case at all today.

Zak is sitting on the couch, glaring in slight annoyance at what's next to him. He's been trying to get Darryl's attention for the past couple minutes, but it's proven to be difficult. He's been cooing at his little rat for the past hour and every time he'd try to talk to him, he would only give short responses and go back to smooching his dog. Zak groans, embarrassed while thinking to himself. I can't believe I'm feeling like this all because of a dog. This is so stupid, I'm being an idiot!

Darryl giggles as Rat covers his face in slobber. "Heehee! Awww! I love you! I love youuuu!" Zak's face slightly flushes as he pouts, suppressing the urge to scowl. Darryl looked up at Zak and notices his facial expression. "You doing alright, Zak?" Zak's eyes widen as he turned away to hide the fact that his face was getting redder, panicking a bit before giving an answer.

"Uh- I-I'm bored! I think I'm gonna stream in a minute. Wanna join me?" Darryl's eyes perk up, "Oooh! Of course you fatty, I'll join you!" He picks Rat up to his face and smiles. "I'll hop on to Minecraft in a sec." He nuzzles his dog's nose, "I'm taking this little cutie right here with me! Yes I am!" Zak twitched as he forced a smile and a laugh, "Hahaha, yeah..." He quickly stands up, "I'm just gonna go to my room and.. set up."

Darryl raises an eyebrow as Zak hurries to his room. Shrugging, he picks up his dog and goes to his own room to get ready.

The stream has been going on for over an hour and currently they were doing a 1v1 bed wars. Right now, the score is tied and whoever wins next takes it all. Zak would love to settle the score once and for all, but....

"Aww thank you for the kisses! I love you! Yes I do! Yes I dooo!" Zak felt his eye twitch as he growls under his breath. He decided to look at his chat.

AWWWW!

Bad you're so cute oh my god.

❤RAT SUPPORT❤

"Baaaaaad! Are we going to finish this game or not?!" Darryl raised a brow again, sensing a hint of annoyance in his voice. "Hold your muffins Skeppy!" He giggled, "I think Rat wants to go for a walk."

Zak muted his mic as he covers his face and lets a groan of frustration out. "Alright. Skeppy, Imma head out for a moment. I need to take her for walksies. Okay?" Zak unmutes his mic and giggles a bit, "Walksies?" "Yehes, walksies!" Zak rolled his eyes and smiled, "Okay! Okay, just go so that you could hurry back!" "Alright! Relax you muffin head! I'll be right back." Darryl and his dog walk out of the room. Zak stays silent for a moment until he lets out a frustrated sigh and smiles. "Oh my god he triggers me so much sometimes."

He laughs as he continues on with his mini rant with a smile. "I love dogs as much as the next guy and his dog is absolutely adorable, but Bad is really getting on my nerves. Ahaha! You guys should've seen him! He's cute and all, but he was barely paying any attention to me for the entire day!" Zak continued rambling until he slowly came to a stop. He processed and realized what he said out loud... on stream.

HOLY SHIT HE'S JEALOUS!

SKEPPY IS JELLY! AAAAAA <3

SERIOUSLY!? OVER A DOG?! LMAO

SOMEONE CLIP THIS AND SEND IT TO BAD!

Oh no, he even has webcam on. They can probably see how red his face is right now! Before the chat could freak out any more than it already has, Zak abruptly ended the stream. He has one hand on his face and the other on his chest as he tries to calm down. "...Shit."

"Oh my goodness Skeppy, did you do something?" Darryl muttered under his breath, coming back from walking Lucy. He is looking at his phone blowing up with notifications from Twitter. Opening the door he was surprised to see Zak sitting on the couch. "Oh hey, um. What's going on? Why aren't you in your room?" Zak slightly looked away from him, "I ended the stream." "Wait what?" Is this why my Twitter is blowing up? "Aww, but I didn't even get to say goodbye to everyone. Why did you end without me?" Zak crosses his arms a bit, "Just.. didn't feel like streaming." Okay, that's it. "Zak, you're acting weird."

"Wh- I'm acting weird?! You're weird! I don't know what you're talking about! I'm not acting weird!" Darryl observes Zak for a moment. He looks... nervous? He decides to look at Twitter for answers, something must've happened. In the meantime, he also brings up everything else that's been going on.

"Yes, you are! You've been acting strange all day! This afternoon, you couldn't stop staring at me with Rat. Then, during the stream you sounded annoyed every time I talked to Rat. And now, you're acting like a muffin! And oh my goodness why is my phone-" Darryl cut off as he stares at his phone wide eyed as he looked through all the messages saying the exact same thing. "...Bad?"

"I love dogs as much as the next guy-" "WAIT BAD NO! DON'T LISTEN TO IT!"

Zak tries to grab his phone away, but to no avail as Darryl puts it out of his reach.

"He's cute and all, but he was barely paying any attention to me for the entire day!"

Darryl's face heats up after hearing the clip. His mind processes what he heard and what he knows, and put the pieces together. Zak stood still, face turning red. "D-Darryl, it's not what you-" "Were you actually..." Giggles start to pour out from him. "You were jealous of my dog?!" "nO I WASN'T!" Zak's voice cracked which only made Darryl start to have a laughing fit.

Zak swore that his stomach did a flip. Too flustered to even look at him, he hides his face in his hoodie sleeves, lightly laughing because of his friend cracking up. "Oh my god, shut up!" Darryl tried to muffle his own laughter but to no avail. "I'm so- I'm sorryheeheeHA!" Zak whined feeling his face heat up even more in embarrassment. "I'm done. I'm so done. I'm walking away from you now." "Nononono wait! Wahahait!" Darryl wraps Zak into a hug as his giggles die down.

"Oh my goodness, that was adorable." Zak let out a muffled groan. "No it wasn't, it was so stupid!" Darryl grins and took a moment to look at the small boy hiding his face against his shoulder. It's so rare for him to ever see Zak like this. He wanted it to last a little longer. "Awe... I'm sorry I made you jealous geppy." He chuckled, gently cupped Zak's face in his hands, and said in the most sincere voice he could muster. "You know you'll always be my little muffin."

And Zak thought he couldn't be flustered more than he already is.

Zak froze as he was left speechless. Staring into his green eyes, he feels like his own heart was going to leap out of his chest. Darryl slightly looks away from him, suddenly nervous about Zak's silence, face turning pink from embarrassment. "U-Um.. Zak? I-I really-"

Darryl yelped as he was suddenly tackled onto the couch. Zak started to laugh as he trapped him in his arms. "Skeppy! Let go of me!" He only laughed more at the fact his minecraft name was used. "No, and you can't make me badboyhalo!" Darryl tried to escape from his clutches, but nope he's definitely stuck here. "Dang it Zak, why?!" Zak leaned in closer to his chest and mumbled, "If I'm your muffin, that means you're also mine, and I'm not letting go."

He could feel Darryl's heartbeat speed up. Zak beamed brightly as he heard Darryl become a flustered stuttering mess. "I-I Za- Wh- I-... ohmygoodness." Zak giggled as Darryl sighed and also wrapped his arms around him. He chuckled to himself. What did I get myself into?

Hours has passed and it's in the middle of the night. The small dog walked into the living room and wagged her tail at the sight. Her owner and her new friend were sleeping on the couch together. Their arms were still slightly wrapped around each other. She hopped onto the couch, finding a spot beside them, made herself comfortable, and drifted to sleep.

#badboyhalo #skeppy #skephalo #my writing #fanfiction #aaaaa I should do this more often :>#if you made it to the end i love you <3 #rat is best girl

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demonologist-in-denim · 3 years

Text

Humming to himself, Crowley dusted the rich dark cocoa powder into the soft white flour, and reached for his trusty wooden spoon. Blending ingredients in a mixer tended to create a smoother batter, but Crowley enjoyed the feel of the spoon in his hand, the sound it made scraping the bottom of the bowl, the hands-on experience of turning flour and sugar and eggs into cake.

When the dry ingredients were properly combined, he made a well in the center and carefully poured in the buttermilk, eggs, butter and vanilla. Instead of the usual red food coloring, Crowley added in fresh beet puree – just enough to give the cake a velvety ruby hue. The rich cocoa would cover the hint of earth with a delicate chocolate flavor. The mixture was then evening distributed between three pans and scooched into the oven.

While the cakes baked, he set to work on the frosting. The softened cream cheese and unsalted butter whipped together beautifully. He settled on using far less powdered sugar than the recipe called for, wanting the tangy sweetness of the cream cheese to accent the cake all on its own.

“Would have asked about any preferences in decoration,” Crowley muttered to himself as he applied the crumb coating to the cake, once it was done baking and properly cooled, “but that would have tipped my hand.” Simple yet elegant seemed appropriate. After applying a thick final layer of cream cheese frosting, Crowley piped fluffy buttercream swirls along the rim of the red velvet cake. A soft pile of crumbled extra cake crowned the top, and he tossed more along the side to create a dusting effect.

There was nothing left now except to take the photo.

Which, as fate would have it, turned out to be the difficult part.

He positioned the cake on the kitchen table, and snapped a few photos. Crowley hmmmed to himself. It wasn’t quite up to his standard of food porn. Perhaps he’d take a few more, just to be on the safe side. Until one was suitably flattering. He was still adjusting the cake, playing with the proper angle and lighting for the perfect shot, when Sam and Dean strolled into the kitchen.

For a moment, they lingered at a respectful distance. But Crowley could sense their curiosity like a gathering storm of rose petals, soft yet burdensome.

“Can I help you two with something?”

Disbelief and delight were tugging a one-sided smile out of Sam. “Is – is that for Valentine’s Day?”

Valentine’s Day? Crowley narrowed his eyes at the elegant dessert. Bloody hell, the cake was red and white, wasn’t it? He hadn’t considered that when a bit of carefully applied questioning had disclosed the recipient’s cake preferences.

Crowley mulled the situation over. He couldn’t answer in the affirmative. That would mean he had intentionally crafted the cake as a celebration of gushy hearts and the sweet delirium of – internally, Crowley cringed – love. But he also couldn’t reply with a defensive and definitive “no”. That would only open him up to further, unwelcome inquiry.

He settled for the more characteristically dismissive third option.

“It’s Valentine’s Day?” Crowley steadfastly went back to attempting to capture the perfect photo with his phone. “I don’t bother myself keeping track of that sort of thing.”

Dean eyed the demon knowingly. “Yeah, well, our Netflix recommendations would say otherwise.”

Crowley glowered at the hunter.

“Whatever the occasion,” Sam offered up as his brother idled over to the cake, “that’s professional-grade baking. You’ve got a real talent. The frosting, the whole look? Seriously, I’m impressed.”

The arrow of this flannelled cupid hit its mark. Crowley felt a slight blush of pleasure, despite himself. Casual, unsolicited praise? From Sam Winchester? He seriously contemplated the possibility that Sam had been exposed to some sort of low-grade, poorly-concocted love spell that had bloomed into amiability, or maybe it had been released as a pink mist in the bunker’s common room, and Crowley had unknowingly avoided the worst of it. That seemed like the sort of malarkey that would happen around here on what, apparently, was Valentine’s Day.

Because Crowley found himself saying, “Thank you, Sam,” with actual sincerity. Moments such as these reminded Crowley that he was rather fond of these two boys, after all.

That was the moment Dean ran his finger along the edge of the cake, carrying off a large dollop of frosting from one side. The whole cake just looked so enticing! Dean was more of a pie man himself, but Crowley’s culinary expertise had the tendency to tempt him in surprising ways.

He was halfway to lifting the frosting-festooned finger to his mouth when he caught sight of the expression on Crowley’s face. Sam’s own face was a rotting lemon. Dean’s hand stilled, mouth still open.

“Um,” he muttered.

Dean looked at the offending finger, uncertain of what to do next. He started to put the frosting back where it belonged, thought better of it, looked for a napkin, and reluctantly settled for ashamedly completing the crime by depositing the frosting in his mouth.

Which was a mistake. Because now he knew the cake was friggin’ delicious, and Dean seriously wondered if maybe Crowley could manage his little photo shoot even if there was a slice of the cake missing.

As if he could read his brother’s mind, Sam shook his head in the most supreme disappointment. “Dean.”

“What?! Sorry!”

Reminding himself that murdering one Winchester brother would only end with him being ganked by the other one – though there were certainly times it seemed worth it – Crowley took a deep inhalation, and let it go. Cakes were ultimately meant to be eaten, even if it was by inconsiderate louts and lumberjacks.

“I’ll accept your apology, if you cut everyone else a slice before digging in yourself. I’m sure one of the photos I took before your little indiscretion will suffice.”

“Alright! Cake!” Dean cheered, while Sam just closed his eyes.

Crowley thumbed through the multitude of pictures he’d taken, and settled on the most appealing of the lot. Then he opened up his Bumblr app, and made a new post:

@petrichoravellichor – in honor of your birthday today. Heard from a mutual that you have a particular fondness for red velvet cake. Hope it’s to your liking. – C

He sent the message and image off with a satisfied smile, then set about getting plates and forks, as this cake was obviously not going to survive the interest of the Winchester brothers much longer.

As Crowley was pulling plates out of the cupboard and Dean was cutting into the cake, Castiel wandered into the kitchen, attention entirely given over to his phone. The angel had graduated from texting and emojis to social media and memes, and sometimes he could be found scrolling through Twitter and Instagram with a rapt fascination that would out-fixate even the most plugged-in FOMO-obsessed teenager. There was a chiming sound as he entered the kitchen, as notification of a new post.

“Dude,” Dean was grinning from ear to ear, “Crowley made cake!” He pointed with delight at the dessert.

Cas looked up from his phone, saw the cake, and halted in the middle of the kitchen. He narrowed his eyes, examining the red velvet cake on the table in front of him. Then he looked back down at his phone in consternation. Cas looked at the cake again. Looked back at his phone, and then slowly, he looked at Crowley.

The demon looked from the angel to the cake, his eyes increasing in size as realization dawned.

“Is that – ?”

“Don’t you say one bloody word, angel!” Crowley blustered, a rush of red to his face further colored by the mortification of such abject exposure. “Not one word!”

And before anyone could say anything else, Crowley shoveled a huge slice of not-at-all birthday cake onto a plate, shoved it into Cas’ hand, and quickly excused himself from the kitchen.

“What,” Sam wondered to the startled room, “was that all about?”

Cas continued to stand in the middle of the room, cake in one hand and phone in the other, attempting to come to terms with having inadvertently discovered a fandom mutual was also a real-life friend, and the one he would have least expected. Unsettled, he took comfort in the certainty their shared mutual would appreciate the well wishes on their birthday.

Dean shrugged, merrily flipped the serving knife in his hand, then waved the tip at his brother. “That’s Crowley for you,” he observed, good mood undeterred. “Dude would cut out his own heart and blend it to make red cake batter before admitting to it, but deep down, he’s just a big ol’ teddy bear who wuvs hugs. Speaking of which – you see that giant pink moose Eileen sent you? Friggin’ adorable.”

Dean proceeded to cut a huge slice for himself, leaving a worried looking Sam staring down at the blood-red cake. Then the hunter stepped around a disconcerted Castiel, patting the angel on the shoulder, and strolled out of the kitchen.

***

Happy birthday, Petra! I’m sure you’re tired of your birthday comingling with Valentine’s Day, but when you said your cake preference was red velvet cake, what was I to do? ;)

If you’re wondering exactly why – or even how – Crowley became a member of the in-world spn fandom, you can find out here. This fic will be posted on AO3 in my Tumblr Ficlets after posting on Tumblr.

Image sources here: X

#crowley #spn ficlet #spn fandom #spn crack #spn fanfic #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #one of the boys #fandom life #happy birthday #to you!#this was so much fun to write #i *may* have passed along to Crowley #your cake preference #hope you have a great day!

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artificialqueens · 4 years

Text

Gigi Has an Intelligence Kink (Crystal x Gigi) - A-tresia

Life gets a little bit more interesting when Crystal fully embraces the fact that Gigi has a thing for her brain.

In the same universe as Slow Hands. But you don’t need to read it to get this.

The first time it happens, Crystal thinks it’s just Gigi rewarding her for a job well done.

Crystal is obsessively refreshing her Twitter feed, waiting for an announcement that the MCAT scores have been released.

Refresh.

Nothing.

Refresh.

Still nothing.

Refresh.

“Crys.”

“Hmm? What?”

Gigi gently takes her phone off her fidgety hands. “Just turn your notifications on, hun,” she says, doing it herself.

“But –“

“I know. It’s been a month and they’re scheduled to release today,” she repeats what Crystal has been telling her for the better part of the day.

“It’s been a month and they’re scheduled to release today,” Crystal sighs.

Gigi pulls her in closer and sets her phone under their pillow. “Now, try to concentrate on this instead,” she suggests, motioning to the laptop where an episode of Gigi’s new favorite TV show has been paused. Crystal nods in agreement, hits the space bar, and snuggles in closer.

It takes another episode and a half for Crystal’s phone to vibrate, making them both sit up quickly. If Gigi’s being completely honest, she’s just as nervous as Crystal. And she didn’t take the damn test. But she makes the conscious effort to be the calm one here. One of them has to. And it surely won’t be Crystal.

Gigi hits the space bar to pause the show while Crystal gets up from bed to pace while she loads her account. She watches Crystal, jaw slack in apparent shock, stare at her phone before she gets up on her knees to take a look herself. The torture is killing her. She pulls on Crystal’s shirt to maneuver her closer to the bed so she can peek to see.

521.

“Is that good?” Gigi asks.

Crystal hands over her phone to Gigi, still in quite a bit of shock.

“Crys, is this a good score?” Gigi asks again before looking through the lines and numbers on the screen.

Crystal points to the bottom of the screen. “I would hope so because a perfect score is a 528 and this score is in the 99th percentile.”

When she realizes what this means, Gigi drops the phone on the bed to jump on Crystal who stumbles backward, barely catching her. “Your brain, it’s amazing. I’m so proud of you,” she says in between dropping loud wet kisses all over Crystal’s smiling face. “It’s enough for your dream school, right? With your GPA?”

“More than enough, I hope,” Crystal says.

“Is Crystal happy?” Gigi brushes a thumb over the apple of Crystal’s cheek.

“Crystal is still in shock but Crystal is very, very happy.” The pride in her voice makes Gigi’s heart swell.

Gigi takes Crystal’s face in her hands to give her a proper kiss on the mouth — slow and wet and full of tongue and obviously leading to something else.

“Okay, med school talk later.” She slowly slides off Crystal, gently planting her feet onto the floor. She walks them back to the bed, pulling Crystal down with her when the back of her knees hit the edge. “I think you deserve a treat,” she says reaching up underneath Crystal’s shirt.

“I’m not a dog, Gee,” Crystal laughs.

“Shut up, don’t ruin the moment.”

The next time it happens, Crystal thinks it’s just Gigi being her usual clingy self.

She’s on the floor, as usual, three videos deep into her cadaver dissection videos, her anatomy atlas splayed open on her lap, and drowning in paper and pens and colored pencils. She’s struggling to draw and take notes and memorize all at the same time. Maybe, she thinks, she’s bitten off more than she could chew.

Crystal’s muttering anatomic structures under her breath when she hears Gigi whine her name from behind her. If she wasn’t busy, she’d drop everything she was doing to attend to that very needy whine. But she’s too busy, too tired to even think about doing anything other than studying. She doesn’t even have time to sleep. So she ignores it.

“Crystal,” Gigi calls out again. It’s longer. And breathier. And needier.

Crystal turns to look at Gigi, comfortably nestled on the other end of the couch, making grabby hands at her.

“Sorry, babe,” she says before turning back to her work. Her tone is regretful. The smile on her face is tired. But the feeling at the pit of her stomach is telling her to just go for it. It’s Gigi. And she can’t ever say no to Gigi.

“I don’t want to have to deal with things on my own,” Gigi huffs.

“You know what to do with your hands.” She continues this conversation without looking up from her drawings.

Honestly, she doesn’t know why Gigi is even here in the first place. She knows it’s a busy night. She could be home catching up on sleep or hanging out with her friends. But she’s here. Doing what?

“Crystal.”

“Can I make it up to you tomorrow? Please?” She really doesn’t have the patience for this right now. She looks at the time on her phone, it reads 11:27 PM. “Look, I have less than 12 hours until this test and then I promise I’m all yours. I’ll come straight home after. I don’t mind if you do it right there on the couch if you really have to.” Gigi pouts at her so she reaches for Gigi’s hand to kiss her fingers. “Sorry, really. I am.”

She turns back to her notes before Gigi can make a face that she can’t resist. Suddenly, the dwindling time until her test gives her tunnel vision. Nothing else occupies her mind but this, Gigi’s whining is long forgotten.

Crystal doesn’t know what she expects Gigi to do while she studies. Scroll through her socials? Watch a movie? Online shop?

She doesn’t know what to expect.

But she didn’t think it would be this.

Not Crystal being pulled out of focus by the sound of Gigi’s moaning.

And that moan sounds like she just finished.

Crystal slowly turns her head towards Gigi, looking at her with narrowed eyes in disbelief. When she said she didn’t mind, she didn’t think Gigi would actually do it. “Gigi motherfucking Goode, did you just –“

Gigi looks at her smugly, raises a brow at her as she wipes her fingers on her shorts. “Yes. Yes, I did. You said you didn’t mind.”

“Really, Gee? Did the cadaver video do it for you?”

Gigi scrunches her nose at Crystal. “No, that’s gross. It was you studying and being smart.”

“What?” Crystal chuckles.

“It’s hot, okay? You’re hot. It makes me feel things.”

“What?”

“When you’re being your normal smart self – it’s a turn on, okay?”

“What?”

“Shut up!”

It happens again on Gigi’s birthday and Crystal thinks Gigi is losing her mind when she directs Crystal’s hands to her pussy and asks to be fingered while telling her about the cardiac cycle she was studying earlier today. Crystal thinks this request could have quickly pulled her out of the mood but oddly enough – with her whispering in Gigi’s ear, with her fingers inside Gigi, and with Gigi writhing and moaning and babbling against her – she finds that it makes her feel things too.

Life gets a little bit more interesting when Crystal fully embraces the fact that Gigi has a thing for her brain. Once in a while, when they’re bored of just moaning and groaning and panting their way through having sex, Crystal would look at Gigi – hair fanned out on the pillow, red in the face, chest heaving and sweaty – and lean closer to her ear and indulge Gigi in her ridiculous idea of dirty talk. She’d count the number of ATPs produced in the citric acid cycle, explain to her the mechanisms of action of cephalosporins, run down the cardinal movements of labor, practice on her techniques for a thorough physical examination.

When she passes major exams. When she aces her boards. When she graduates medical school with high honors. When she gets accepted to the surgical residency program of her dreams. Gigi is there – willing and ready and able to reward her, generously, for a job well done. Going as far as buying a new strap, saved and used only for occasions like these.

Crystal is in the middle of her orthopedic surgery residency training and there’s barely any time left for alone time. So Gigi takes what she can get. Even if it’s just a night out for drinks at the bar a couple of blocks away from the hospital with Crystal’s other doctor friends.

She listens to Crystal and her friends (Jackie, a urology resident, and Widow, an anesthesiology resident) exchange stories from their day in the operating room. Gigi is perfectly fine absorbing the excited energy they all seem to have; perfectly fine holding Crystal’s hand under the table; perfectly fine being close. She doesn’t mind that they go into graphic detail; doesn’t mind that they use medical jargon; doesn’t mind that they seem to have forgotten that they have a non-medical person in the group; doesn’t mind that all she is there is present.

When Jackie and Widow get up to get the next round of drinks, Gigi slips a hand up and in between Crystal’s thighs. Crystal catches her wrist before she can go further. “What are you doing?”

“I’m just playing,” she shrugs.

“I know. I meant, why?”

Gigi shrugs again. “You know shoptalk gets to me.”

Crystal knows but she still raises a brow at her. “That wasn’t too graphic for you?”

Instead of answering, Gigi takes Crystal’s hand and positions it underneath her skirt, letting Crystal trail her fingers upward, toward the seam of her underwear. Crystal’s fingers brush over a particularly damp spot. “Already?” Gigi nods like it’s nothing out of the ordinary. And Crystal thinks it really isn’t, at least for Gigi.

“I bet you are too.” And Gigi’s right; she’s always right.

Crystal looks up to see her friends walking back to the table so she signals that they’re going to the toilet. Jackie nods at her so she pulls Gigi up onto her feet and towards the back. It’s a one-person toilet and Crystal wants to thank all the gods looking down at her that it’s empty.

The door is barely locked when Gigi pushes Crystal against the wall and connects their lips and bodies together in a movement that’s demanding and hungry and contagious – hands tangling in hair, lips and tongues desperate to connect with the other, bodies arching and pressing.

“Listening to a story about me pounding at metal and bones got you this hot?” Crystal asks when she pulls away for a breath.

“I want you to pound me instead,” Gigi says, latching her lips onto Crystal’s neck and worming her hand into Crystal’s pants. Crystal moans and drops her head onto Gigi’s shoulder when she feels Gigi slip a finger into her. “But you can do that later.”

Gigi’s thankful Crystal isn’t wearing jeans; her slacks are loose enough for her hand to move freely. She slips another finger in and angles her hand so Crystal can grind against the heel of her palm while she pumps in. And out.

And in.

And out.

Faster.

And harder.

She nips at Crystal’s earlobe. “I expect a good pounding at home.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Crystal pants, head now resting against the wall, eyes now glazed over, breath now ragged, hips now following the pace that Gigi has set – slow enough that it builds, fast enough that it’s not frustrating.

Gigi concentrates on pumping and rubbing and kissing and licking and biting and making Crystal hum and moan and whimper. She feels Crystal’s body tense against her, feels Crystal getting wetter, feels her fingers slipping easier. Her muscles are strained but she speeds up the movement of her hand and Crystal speeds up the movement of her hips against Gigi’s palm.

“That’s it,” Gigi encourages as Crystal squeezes her closer and tighter, gasping and shaking as she comes. Gigi keeps a slower, gentler pace, shifting so she can rub her thumb against Crystal’s clit to drag out her orgasm.

She pulls Crystal in for a languid kiss as she waits for Crystal to stop trembling. When she does – it takes a little longer than a moment – Gigi pulls her hand out of Crystal’s pants and holds it up. Her hand is glistening in the low light, covered in Crystal’s slick. Crystal looks up in time to see Gigi lick her fingers, sucking them into her mouth with a sound so needy, Crystal is sure she needs to take care of it. Right now.

“Home time?” Gigi suggests as she straightens up Crystal’s pants.

Crystal manages to shake the clouds away. “There’ll be more later but I think I can get one out of you now,” she says, turning Gigi towards the sink and bending her over with a hand between her shoulder blades. Crystal leans over her to keep her bent, makes sure she’s braced herself on the sink, and slides a hand down the length of Gigi’s back to the curve of her ass, slowly lifting her skirt to expose her now soaking panties. “Missed you this week,” she says, dropping a kiss on Gigi’s jaw while she lets her fingers slip underneath the wet fabric.

Gigi wants to say she missed her too; wants to say she’s happy to have her at home for the next two days; wants to say they should just leave their friends so they can continue this at home. But Crystal is already on her knees behind her, not caring if the floor is dirty; already moving her underwear aside – one Gigi isn’t sure why she even wore in the first place; already burying her face into the heat between Gigi’s legs.

She puts both hands on Gigi’s ass to grope and fondle and squeeze and spread while she licks and nips and sucks at her folds. She feels Gigi squirm; arching and pressing back into her mouth, encouraging her to do a little more. A lot more. All of this is exciting and overwhelming and extremely naughty – a far cry from the white coat wearing, scalpel yielding, professional front Crystal puts on just two blocks away.

Crystal keeps her mouth on her clit as she presses two fingers into Gigi and lets her control the pace, lets her rock back and forth to chase her own pleasure. She feels Gigi contract around her fingers and she thinks it’s time to change things up.

Yes, Crystal thinks to herself, the bathroom of a bar you’re a regular at is the best place to change things up.

She licks long and hard from her clit to her hole, around her fingers, up her perineum, and over her asshole – something she thinks Gigi doesn’t know that she knows Gigi secretly likes. Crystal feels her freeze for a split second before reaching behind her to grab Crystal’s head to keep her in place.

“Fuck, Crystal,” she pants.

Gigi’s rhythmic movement is now jerkier and erratic and Crystal knows she’s close. Very close. Crystal continues to lick and pump and rub while Gigi continues to moan and rock and chase. She hangs her head between her arms and whines and pants and shakes as she comes.

Crystal gets up and leans over Gigi’s body, fingers still pumping inside – prolonging and intensifying. She’s wrapping her free arm around Gigi’s torso, nuzzling her nose into her hair to kiss the back of her neck when she feels her mewl and tremble and shudder into another one – unexpected but highly welcome.

“Love you,” she whispers into her ear.

Gigi turns her head to Crystal – her eyes are glassy, her forehead is sweaty, her cheeks are flushed. “Love you too,” she whispers back before catching her lips for a kiss.

They take their time straightening up; not worried about a line possibly forming outside, not worried that they’ve been gone from their friends for too long.

When they make their way back to the table, she sees Widow look at them with a knowing smirk. And Crystal can’t find it in herself to make up an excuse – there’s no excuse for being gone that long and they’re all adults here anyway. So they gather their things, say their goodbyes and see you laters, and rush home to give Gigi what she promised.

When Crystal graduates from residency, of course, she bags the outstanding resident award and the best scientific paper. All on top of being chief resident in her final year. Because of course, Crystal doesn’t do anything half-assed. Gigi decides, when they’re both stripped off their gowns and heels from Crystal’s hospital graduation dinner, that it’s an important enough occasion to use their special toy – there’s really nothing special or different about that strap; Gigi just uses it particularly on days when she wants to celebrate Crystal. It’s Gigi’s turn to prove that nothing in this house is done half-assed.

Gigi gives Crystal one final lick before trailing up her torso with wet open-mouthed kisses, lingering momentarily on her breasts, taking a nipple in her mouth – licking and biting and sucking. She drops herself onto Crystal’s side, hooking her legs over Crystal’s, and kisses her way up her neck, across her jaw, skipping her lips, and bumps their noses together, “Congratulations, baby.”

Crystal reaches up to cup her cheek and pulls her in for a kiss, tasting herself on Gigi’s lips. “You know I couldn’t have done all of this without you, right?”

“Nope, all you,” she says, nuzzling her cheek against Crystal’s palm before taking Crystal’s hand in hers and kissing the rings on Crystal’s finger – the rings she only usually wears around her neck when she’s at work are now on her left ring finger, where they’re supposed to be. “This is all you. I was just there. I’m just here.”

Gigi gets up to step into the leather harness – fastening the straps and adjusting the cock, all while watching Crystal rub at her clit, flicking back and forth lazily. There’s a satisfied smile on Crystal’s face that Gigi wants to keep there forever. She leans over Crystal, peppering her face with kisses, whispering how immensely proud she is of her, how she loves her dearly, how lucky she is to have her. She braces her arms on the bed, resting the length of the cock against Crystal’s wetness, just content with being skin to skin.

“What’s taking so long?” Crystal whines, breaking the little tender bubble Gigi created.

Gigi chuckles at Crystal’s impatience and decides, yes, okay, tonight is about her. She sits back on her heels and realigns her cock, settling the tip at Crystal’s entrance. With steady pressure, she presses inside; one hand guiding the dildo, the other stroking gently over Crystal’s clit. She stretches over Crystal, letting her weight rest on her when she’s buried deep inside. She pulls back a little and gently slides back in, hooking Crystal’s leg over her hip as she goes. Gigi keeps a slow rhythmic pace, hoping to stretch this out the whole evening.

Sure, the slow thrusts are good. Satisfying, even. But Crystal knows she could take more. And she knows Gigi could give more.

So.

Much.

More.

“This feels lovely and all but I need you to fuck me.”

Gigi thinks for a beat and reminds herself again that what Crystal wants, Crystal gets. At least tonight.

And Crystal will get all her favorite things.

“Up,” she instructs as she pulls out.

“What?” Crystal is confused at the sudden emptiness.

She pulls Crystal up from the bed and pushes her on her knees on the floor. Understanding dawns on Crystal’s face as Gigi steps forward, gripping the base of the cock – still wet with Crystal’s slick, guiding it towards Crystal’s mouth.

“I want to see you take it all.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Crystal murmurs, her eyes locked onto Gigi’s as she takes the dildo inside her mouth, slowly working her tongue along its length. Gigi groans at the sight of Crystal taking a silicone cock all the way to the back of her throat without gagging. She remembers asking Crystal why she likes doing that. All she got was a vague answer about liking the force. Whatever that means.

Crystal makes a show of licking and sucking and deep-throating. The way the harness rubs against her is not enough to tip her over the edge but it’s there and looking at Crystal taking it all oddly makes Gigi feel like this appendage is hers.

Gigi groans a she watches Cyrstal swallow the full length of her cock. “God, baby. That’s so fucking hot.” Crystal responds by making sure she’s tugging at the base harder so whatever part of it that’s brushing against Gigi is hitting her right. She grits her teeth and buries her hands into Crystal’s hair as Crystal slips a thumb beneath the harness to press on Gigi’s swollen clit.

“You’re going to make me come,” Gigi breathes out.

And she does.

Her body really doesn’t give her a choice.

When Crystal presses particularly hard on her clit, her thighs tremble and she thrusts forward and tightens her grip on Crystal’s hair.

And Crystal is quick to grab onto Gigi’s ass, clutching and pulling, keeping her there – nose pressed against Gigi’s pubic bone – as she rides it out.

Gigi pulls back quickly, aware that she’s cutting off Crystal’s air supply. She looks down to see Crystal reluctantly let go of her cock with an exaggerated slurp, looking up at Gigi with needy eyes and pouty lips, blinking away involuntary tears.

She helps Crystal to her feet and kisses her senseless, not minding that saliva has dribbled down Crystal’s chin. Crystal grips Gigi’s side for balance as Gigi walks her backward against a wall.

Crystal is startled out of her daze when Gigi grips her waist and turns her around, effectively disconnecting their lips and pushing her flat against the wall. She looks over her shoulder to see Gigi squat, suddenly she’s very aware of the very aroused state of her pussy.

“Always so wet for me,” Gigi says, running a finger over Crystal’s lips. Crystal bites on her lower lip as she resists the urge to quote WAP lyrics and for good reason – Gigi hates that song. She, on the other hand, secretly loves it – the OR nurses may or may not have caught her attempting to do the dance in the dressing room.

Gigi spreads her lips apart, a moan stuck in her throat when a string of clear juice dribbles down her finger and onto the floor.

“Crystal, you fucking just dripped on the floor. Jesus fucking – “

Crystal shakes her ass in Gigi’s face. “Please, fuck me. Please.”

And Gigi gives her what she wants. Gigi gets up and slides the full length of her cock easily inside Crystal in one quick fluid motion. She’s rewarded with a deep moan and expletives begging for more.

Crystal’s pussy clamps down on the dildo when Gigi moves to give her a short quick thrust. “Yes, more, like that.” She isn’t sure where this savage need to fuck Crystal like this is coming from but she decides to embrace it. So she grips Crystal’s hips tighter and slams hard repeatedly, making them both grunt. She would have been worried that she’s being too rough if Crystal hadn’t instantly pushed back against her with a very enthusiastic, “Fuck, yes!”

It’s a pace they’re both surprised they both can keep up with. And they’re both determined to keep going. The jumbled words and incomprehensible sounds coming from Crystal’s mouth spurs Gigi on – orgasm after orgasm stealing her words from her.

Gigi is getting frustrated trying to chase an orgasm of her own. With a yelp from Crystal, she pulls completely away and flips Crystal around so her back is against the wall. She hikes a leg up, hooking it over Gigi’s hip. Crystal reaches between them to guide the cock back into her pussy and encourages Gigi to keep on pounding into her. She coos in Gigi’s ear, her hands groping Gigi’s breasts, her lips busy kissing Gigi’s face and neck. Soon, their sounds turn into whimpers and pants and sharp moans as they both race towards another orgasm.

Gigi gropes Crystal’s ass hard and leans to bury her face in Crystal’s neck as a strangled moan works its way from her throat. She thrusts one last hard thrust up into Crystal before she comes. Hard. Leaving them both trembling against the wall.

Gigi shifts to help Crystal regain solid footing, letting the cock slip wetly out of her, scattering kisses over her neck and shoulders.

“God damn,” Crystal breathes out.

“That was intense,” Gigi muses, holding on to Crystal tightly, still leaning themselves against the wall.

Crystal with her vision still cloudy and marked by black spots, pushes herself upright and pushes Gigi back into bed, and crawls over her. “No more for me,” she says trailing a series of wet kisses down Gigi’s body. “Your turn now.”

Crystal takes her time – So. Much. Time. – to let Gigi know how she’s wrong. How she wasn’t just there. How she isn’t just here. How the past almost ten years with school and training was because of her, for her, and with her.

#rpdr fanfiction #crystal methyd #gigi goode #crygi #smut #lesbian au #atresia

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jawritter · 4 years

Text

Broken Me...

Ch. 3

Summery: The Dallas Convention couldn't have come at a worse time for Jensen. His world fell apart earlier that morning, but was expected to just act like everything was normal. You and a friend were at the convention for her birthday. Life hasn't been that great for you either, but a forced meeting on stage changes two worlds. Will you be able to put this broken man back together again...

Series Warings: Cheating, shitty marriage, Danneel is a bitch, I unfortunatly have to put that as a warning because some people tend to get turnt up about it if you don’t... Smut, Crying, Suiside Attempt, brief discription of suicide attempt and recovery, depression, hints of self loathing, language. I think that’s it... Suicide Trigger warnings will be placed over each chapter!

Chapter Warnings: Online bulling, language, insecurities, mean girls. I think that’s about it..

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader

Word Count: 1779

A/N: BINGE READ TIME!! As always all mistakes are mine! Please do not copy my work! Feedback is gold!! Hope you all enjoy this one!!

Want More? Check out my masterlist!!

****MASTERLIST****

Jensen's POV:

"I can't believe I lost it like that man! What the hell!!" Jensen yelled, throwing his hat across the room, watching as it hit the wall with a limp thump before falling to the floor.

He’d never been so pissed off at himself in his life, the way he ran off stage like that, Y/n probably thinks she did something wrong.

He knew she saw him upset…

He knew she saw him try to hide the fact that I was up there crying like a little bitch...

Maybe that many shots before he got on stage wasn't such a great idea after all...

He was just trying to get numb enough to get through this damn concert without feeling anything. That turned out well didn’t it...

"Dude stop!! You're doing a hell of a lot better than I would be doing. I would have left the convention by now, and would be a blubbering mess somewhere. As far as y/n goes. I think she's fine. I saw her taking selfies with some other fans after the concert was over. Now Richard on the other hand, he saw, he's asking questions. I know you're not ready to talk about all this to everyone, but if you're going to stay at the convention. You're going to have to tell the rest of the cast and crew what the hell is going on with you."

Jensen knew Jared was right, but he couldn’t help the stone face that he gave him as he watched the overly tall man take a swig of his beer.

Even though Jared has the mental maturity of a ten year old, when stuff is going down he usually is right.

As far as Jensen was concerned he was nowhere near ready to talk about what happened between Danneel and himself, everything was still so fresh, so raw, hell it had just happened today!

He knew he couldn’t get into telling people without breaking down, and that was NOT something he was going to do in front of everyone.

It just isn't going to happen...

"I know you're right, but I’m not ready to talk about this with everyone, man it all this just happened less than 12 hours ago! I haven't even had time to process it yet. I'll try, and talk to everyone in the morning if people are asking too many questions. I just can't do it tonight. I'm still a little drunk, I'm exhausted. Probably too damn exhausted to sleep, which means I’ll probably drink myself to sleep…. Don’t look at me like that Jared, I just ….need tonight okay......Put Richard and everyone else off till in the morning if they ask you any questions."

Jared fought the urge to shake his head and roll his eyes, but this was Jensen’s battle, not his, and he had to deal with all of this how he saw best. No matter how much Jared didn’t agree with it..

"Okay I can do that. I told Richard tonight that you would probably tell everyone in the morning what was going on anyway, It was the only way he would let it go. They're worried about you man."

Jensen pushed his hands through his already completely messed up hair, and stood there with his eyes closed, trying his damndest to get a hold of himself. He was tired of crying about this already, and had just happened today, hell it’s not like they were together every day of their marriage, he was practically single anyway… They never even fucking saw each other.. Why did this bother him so much?

"Ugh Jen?" Jared said, sounding almost like a little kid afraid to tell their parents something bad....

"What?"

White hot fear licked at Jensen right up his backbone, it was never good in this industry for someone to use that tone while looking at social media...

"Uh, looks like the video of you and y/n tonight has gone almost viral."

Video of him singing at cons did that all the time so it was no surprise to him that one of him signing with a fan had gotten a lot of attention. So Jensen knew that was just the warm up for the let down, and braced himself…

"Okay, So."

"Well Danneel saw it and, well......"

Jared handed Jensen the phone, and what he saw there made him nauseous, and like he’d been shot in the chest with a 12 gage full of buckshot all at once….

“That bitch..”

............................................................

Your POV:

Walking back through the door of your hotel room you fall face first on the bed.

Exhaustion was a very real thing, but you still had a lot of adrenaline pumping through you, way too much to sleep right now. Your mind racing a thousand miles a second. Analyzing everything that had happened tonight almost to a fault.

Did I dream that or did it really happen?

What's going on with Jensen?

Why was he so upset?

Were Richard and I the only ones that noticed?

Jared obviously saw?

Every time you think about it your skin would tingle where Jensen had touched you. Hell by the time the two of you hand ended the song he was seriously so close for just a moment you thought he was going to kiss you.

Thank God he didn't...

Cause you probably would have passed out in his arms...

Which probably wouldn't have been a bad thing, if you were alone, and not on a stage in front of hundreds of people with cameras and smartphones.

Not cool...

With that thought you picked up your phone, and saw literally hundreds of twitter, facebook, and Instagram notifications on your phone.

Your eyes bulging out of your head as you scrolled through twitter, the video of Jensen and yourself had gone almost viral.

Your head started spinning and you honestly felt like you were going to throw up. Everyone seemed to like it, that wasn't the thing. The SPN fandom was seriously awesome that way, and for the most part everyone supported each other in one way or another...

It was the post from Danneel that shook you from your head to your toes...

"Y/f/n!! Get your ass over here!!" You yelled toward the bathroom where she was brushing her teeth. The room was spinning slightly as you read the tweet over and over again, as if you could make it disappear from the world wide web by sheer willpower...

"What?" She yelled back, running toward the bed, a look of concern on her face.

She knew your tone had changed from joking in the elevator to almost sheer panic.

"What is it?" She asked, taking the phone out of your hand.

"Dang...Poor Jensen!!" She said, staring stocked at the phone. She was staring at the phone in slack jaw shock probably like the rest of the fandom at the moment.. You knew this was just the calm before the storm though, and you were about to be under fire form some of the more hardcore fans in the fandom...

"Well he was having a harder time than what it looks like on the video." You said, she looked at you completely lost. Apparently the audience didn't catch it. A moment ago you would have been relieved, now though you wished they would have just seen him..

Then man was a damn good actor...

"That part in the video that looks like he's kissing my neck….. He wasn't. He had started to cry, and was wiping his face." You mummer, guilt rocking you to your core for agreeing to sing that song with him now that you knew what was going on with him...

"Bullshit!" She yelled. "Why didn't you tell me he was that upset!"

“I thought it wasn't any of our business! What was going on with him was obviously not intended to be a public thing. So I kept my mouth shut out of respect." You shot back.

Looking down at the tweet you still couldn’t believe what you were seeing was really happening..

The tweet was a repost of the video of Jensen and yourself singing. That wasn’t the problem. It was the comment above that made you nauseous.

Well since Jensen seems to have ALREADY moved on to basically screwing fans on a live stage!! Looks like I OWE my fans the explanation! Jensen and I are getting a DIVORCE!!! WE ARE NO LONGER TOGETHER!! I don't know who this girl is, but baby girl RUN!! I PROMISE YOU DON'T WANT THAT!!!

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

A few hours later you found yourself still awake and staring at the ceiling. Sleep wasn’t going to come easy tonight no matter how you sliced it..

You couldn’t believe she did that..

She doesn't even know you!!!

Some fans jumped to your immediate defense, telling her to go screw herself, and that didn’t happen the way the video was making it look, that it was a lot more innocent in person.

Then there were some ‘Jensen always deserved better than you anyways’.

That It was just a performance... Meaning nothing and she needed to get over her high and mighty act...

Jensen was a sweetheart. He was probably totally heartbroken, and she was a bitch...

Then there were some that were attacking you...

"She's just a whore. He'll come crawling back."

"He's a jackass you deserve better."

"She wont even last with him a week."

"She's just a side bitch."

"She's ugly, he downgraded."

"OMG I didn't know Jensen was into fat girls!"

They cut deeper than a stranger's opinion of you probably should have. Especially that last one. You weren't fat by any means, but you also weren't hide stretched over the bones.

You had curves.

Your stomach wasn't perfectly fat.

Your thighs touched together when you walked.

You didn't have a model body, but hell Marline Monroe was fatter than you are!!

You and Jensen we're NOT together in any sense of the word, and by no means was he practically “Screwing you” on stage tonight..

A slight knock on the door disturbed your thoughts, and you looked over to y/f/n.

She was still knocked out.

So you quickly wiped away the tears that had fallen down your face, dragging yourself out of bed. You got up and looked through the peephole in the door, but all you could see was a white t-shirt.

You unlock the door, and peck through the crack to see who was standing there at this hour in the night, and who you saw nearly knocked you on your ass for the second time tonight..

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Tag List: @screechingartisancashbailiff @thecreatiivecorner @aflamboyanceofgays @deanwanddamons @imabitch4jensen @rvgrsbrns @bi-danvers0 @onethirstyunicorn @i-love-superhero @akshi8278 @alanegaming @magssteenkamp @lemondropirwin @squirrelnotsam @hobby27 @spnbaby-67 @mrsjenniferwinchester @defenderrosetyler

Binge Tag: @sarahbaker2010

#jensen ackles #jensen ackles fanfiction #jensen ackles fanfic #jensen ackles series #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x you #jensen x reader #jensen x you #dark fic #hurt!jensen #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #jawritter

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mimiplaysgames · 3 years

Text

Terra Week Day 3 (Dreams/AU)

Summary: Terra hears stories about Xehanort during his apprenticeship. Everyone has something to say about his face. | Word Count: 3,954

Read on AO3

A/N: For Terra Week 2021! You can find that account on Twitter!

~*~*~*~*~

The Tenets of a Master, Ch. 3

To Dream is to risk. To risk is to show bravery. To show bravery is to embody strength. To embody strength is to Dream.

In the middle of construction, Radiant Garden looks as though it’s been dealt an iron fist. Some neighborhoods need their roofs replaced and there’s now what they call an automatic trigger alarm system that is run by motion sensors. They are still clearing rubble from the streets on the west side. The east looks good as new, slowly filling back up with tufts of flowers.

Terra has never been inside Ansem the Wise’s castle (well… him, not him anyway) but it used to be beautiful. It used to stand on brick and alabaster stone, graciously presenting a giant clock mechanism that made it look Grandfatherly, a home away from home, carefully placed gears running three pendulums. Now the remains are held up by pipes. Cranes pull up missing spires that have fallen off. The only part truly original to the castle is still that clock piece. Grandfather had a rough night but at least he’s cleaning up nicely.

Ven jogs to keep up with Terra’s strides. “I saw you talking to Naminé last night,” he says.

“You saw right.”

“I’m worried.”

Terra is worried, too. Aqua, not suspecting anything, is leading the way up the stairs to the front entrance.

“You’re going to have to distract her for me,” Terra says, keeping his tone hushed.

“How am I supposed to do that?”

“Stall her when you get the chance.” At which Ven rolls his eyes. “Just for a short while.” Checking to see if Aqua has turned her head, Terra pretends it’s a casual conversation. With a (painted) smile, he says out loud, “Race you to the top.”

Ven groans and lags behind.

At the top, Aqua greets one of the guards, a tall and meaty man with waist-length dark braids and slick sideburns that might as well be shaped by the edge of a knife. Terra has to push aside the question if this is one of the men who had kidnapped people for the sake of Xehanort’s experiments— the people he will meet today are not the same as they were. He has to remember that.

“Terra,” she says. “This is Dilan.”

Dilan. Terra doesn’t recognize that name.

Speaking of, Dilan takes one glance at Terra before bursting into laughter, haughty and rich.

“Aeleus,” he calls, his tone piercing like lances. “Come and see whose Somebody has finally decided to grace us with his presence.”

Aeleus. Nope, not this name either.

Ven cowers behind Aqua when a head of orange curls appear around the corner.

If Dilan is tall, Aeleus is a beast, a walking fortress with muscles bigger than Terra’s head. It’s impressive enough to make Terra keep Earthshaker close at his fingertips. Aeleus has what looks like a permanent scowl—so woven into his skin that when he smirks, no other muscle moves with it. It must be the eyebrows, but it leaves Terra wondering if he’s going to get his nose caved in at any moment. These men do have reasons to hold resentment, after all.

“I’ve given up on expecting a visit,” Dilan says when joined by his comrade. Two gatekeepers. “And I hardly ever expected to… feel this much when I would come upon your face again.” He grins and its equal parts amused and hurt.

Aeleus grunts in agreement. He crosses his arms and Terra swears it makes him grow another inch.

“If I may,” Dilan continues, “there have been quite the corrupted experiences in our history.”

Terra steps back. Corrupted. Before he can feel too sick, he feels a gentle hand on his wrist, Aqua stepping near him as she waits for his cue.

“I’ve carried such regret since,” Dilan says, hands wrapped behind his back. “I watch every face that passes by this castle, and at the end of each night, I’m left with this vacant pit in my chest, asking myself if we ever shared a shred of self-awareness, would we have pursued our dreams differently?

“Now that you are here,” he presses, angling down. “I realize it matters not what you remember of that time. I know when I see that shackled look in your eyes. I am not alone in this. For that, you’ll have no choice but to share the weight of that debt forever.” He smirks. “What say you, Aeleus?”

Aeleus measures Terra with his eyes. His voice is deep and as dense as rock. “You’re puny.”

Dilan spits into another bout of laughter.

Their roast of him eases Terra. He doesn’t know these men, and they know less of him, but they have a mutual friend called Burden, sharing the cheer. Aqua gets the message that all is fine, and lets go.

“Well...” Terra starts, too self-conscious of the way he speaks. The sound of his voice must be entertaining for Dilan, who’s containing himself. “I’m here to make some things right. Can we come in?”

Dilan sustains a grin and raises a hairy eyebrow, nodding off to Aeleus in some silent conversation. “Did you really think you can have access without telling us the secret password?”

“A password?” Now he feels like a dork. “Can I have a hint?”

“You can give us your heart,” Aeleus says, and Dilan can’t control himself any longer.

With a clap of their hands, the castle doors open, and they spread apart to let Terra and his friends through. Terra has to wonder if normal will ever bless him with its visit ever again. If he could be normal when he hears of others’ stories, when some jokes hit too close to home.

“Come back to train,” Aeleus says, giving Terra a hard knock on the shoulder that pushes him forward. “You need more muscle.”

The castle doors shut behind them with controlled weight, cutting off Dilan’s lingering amusement with a bang. Terra is left with hot ears, massaging his biceps to see if he’s gotten smaller.

“I think they like you,” Ven says.

Pipes line the crooks between the walls and the ceilings. Like a respiratory system, it steams and churns, pumping humid life into the castle. Some of the halls are dark. Parts of the floor are chipped and if not, grimey. They have a long way to go before it looks pristine.

And Terra apparently has spent years here. But nothing gives him that spark. Nothing makes his stomach turn or drops a loaded bout of nostalgia. The very thought of having lived here sounds like an alternate reality that was never recorded, so at best it’s just a story, at worst a lie.

“Soooo…” Ven says to Terra, hands casually behind his head. “Does this place bring back any memories?”

Aqua scoffs. “That’s an awful question to ask, Ven.”

“You mean you’re not curious?”

Terra groans. It’s not the invasive nature of the question, but the fact that he asked Ven to lay low about this mission not several minutes ago and here he is nearly sabotaging it. He flicks Ven at the ear.

“What? I just want to know!”

“I don’t,” Aqua mutters.

Stars. Terra’s pocket buzzes with notifications from his Gummiphone, but he ignores them. Now’s not the right time.

A man steps from around the corner, knee deep in a long, white lab coat with coiffed wrist cuffs and a folded handkerchief on his collar. He walks so quietly that they don’t hear him approach. Clean cut except for the hair—too clean, actually, and brushed over the front, like linen pulled too far to one side of the table.

“Master Aqua,” this man greets with a bright and timid smile behind the curtain. “How pleasant to finally meet you to face to face.”

“Likewise, Ienzo.”

Ienzo. Terra only recognizes it because Aqua keeps in contact with him.

Likewise, when Ienzo looks over her shoulder, he lights up.

“I’m Terra.”

“I can tell.” Ienzo clears his throat. “Pardon, I shouldn’t be so forward, but… You look so much like him.” He clicks his tongue. “I shouldn’t have said that, either.”

“It’s fine,” Terra says, though it’s not.

“I-I can show you around the castle.” He adjusts his collar. “It may seem unhomely now, but I assure you, it warms up in time.”

It’s already too warm.

“This has been home for you for a while, right?” Aqua asks, a plastic quality to her voice as if she’s trying to patch things up. Nothing needs patching though. It’s just awkward.

“Since I was a child.” Ienzo glances back at Terra. “May I say something?”

Everyone has something to say. Terra considers researching a magic spell to alter his face. “Sure.”

Ienzo tightens his collar again, the knot knuckling into his throat. “I really admired him. Xehanort.”

It doesn’t feel like a punch to the stomach but more like his breath was sucked out by a hand after it slapped him in the face. “Um…”

“I don’t mean to be rude. Or forward.” This guy apologizes too much. And will choke himself if he doesn’t stop. “But for some time, ever since I’ve heard word of who you really were, I wondered what it would be like for the two of us to meet. I held no expectations. And yet… Everything about you is so foreign to me.”

There goes Aqua again, standing near and giving Terra gentle notice that she’s there. There goes Ven, gawking up at him and being completely unsubtle about how the conversation has turned.

“Everything about this place is foreign to me,” Terra says, trying to be polite and failing at somewhere closer to aghast.

“I apologize.” Ienzo turns his nervous ticks to his wrist cuffs, effortlessly attempting at cutting off his circulation. “I suppose you could say Xehanort was a profound presence in my life.”

When Ienzo finally catches on to what he’s doing to his clothes, he exhales and puts his hand to his face, thinking deeply, maybe about a time in an alternate universe where lies and stories were real. It makes him look like a child.

“You would have been,” Terra says, keeping himself sweet, “very young when you met him.”

Ienzo nods slowly. “I was a child and taken in to study. Science was a language he spoke with ease and I wanted in every way to emulate that when I grew up.”

Terra can relate. “Was that hard on you?”

“Not in the beginning.” Ienzo slowly finds some courage with every word. “He wasn’t kind… Not like you are. He was polite, however, and he was focused. If anything, Xehanort had a sort of quality that made you believe all the possibilities were in your grasp. No matter what they were, or your age, or level of intelligence. He was magnetic. I grew up thinking I was capable of anything because of his support.” Ienzo stares down at a small puddle building up from the steam. “I wanted to impress. I believed in what he believed, and never once did I think—I justified everything I did. I did not know about you. And I am so very sorry.”

“I get it,” Terra says softly. “He made you feel like you were worth the time and effort.”

“Yes. Exactly.”

And it came with a cost. Terra doesn’t need to say it, and neither does Ienzo, a quiet acknowledgement passing in the moments they nod and paint a smile between them.

“I appreciate you giving me the time to release these thoughts,” Ienzo says. “I’ve struggled with them for some time, especially after waking up again.”

“Happy to help.” Actually it hurts, but Terra can deal.

“Now I must reciprocate my efforts.” Ienzo turns to Aqua. “You are looking for your Keyblade.”

Aqua, for the second time that day, lets Terra go. “Did you find out anything new?”

After a moment, he says, “It is blue. Before you raise your hopes”—he lifts his hands in defense—“neither of us can recall what Xehanort has done with it. I don’t believe I have ever seen evidence of it during my time as a Nobody. We are regressing quite a few years in the past.”

“Oh.”

Ienzo blinks. “I was uncertain if I had dreamed of it, but when I was a child, I would take walks around the castle at night. A ritual I felt I needed in order to sleep. One of those serendipitous nights, I had walked past Xehanort’s personal office.” He glances at Terra, opens his mouth to say more, then thinks the better of it and addresses Aqua instead. (You, but not you.) “He had left the door open. He was studying a large object, electrifying it and concocting different spells to get it to react. I want to say it was blue, but I was not certain what I was looking at.”

They all stare at him in silence.

“He was… toying with it?” Aqua asks.

“I am not sure.”

“Maybe he was trying to activate it?” Ven says.

“Perhaps.”

“How was he that night?” Terra asks, a distinct acidity to his throat and so help him stars, he might just spit it out in the next minute. It’s natural to hold your friends’ Keyblades. This is different.

“Frustrated,” Ienzo says. “I almost want to say that he was on the verge of giving up, as though it had given up on him.”

“That makes it sound like he was attached to it,” Aqua spits.

“That is a possibility. But whatever it was, it didn’t want to work with him.”

Aqua smirks and lifts one elegant shoulder. “I can’t say I’m surprised.”

“Let me escort you to our records room.” Ienzo gestures with an arm to the hallway behind him. “I’ll show you some of his earlier journals. Perhaps there is a mention of it?”

They start ahead except for Terra, who waits until they move several paces before they noticed he opted to stay behind.

“Actually,” Terra says slowly, finding opportunity here and swallowing the acid down. It’s going to take at least two meals to remove the taste. “Being here and listening to all of this makes me a little dizzy.”

Anything involving discomfort with her friends set off panic with Aqua. “Are you okay?”

Ven gives Terra a warning glare.

Robin Hood would have tweaked the truth for the better good. What a horrible thought, stars, Yen Sid has got to be humoring Aqua in getting Terra prepared for his Mark of Mastery.

“I’m just overwhelmed,” Terra says. She believes him.

“Maybe you should step outside.”

Ven puffs out.

“I think that’s a good idea,” Terra says, pressing Ven with a glare back. Have my back. “I won’t be gone for long. I want to be around to help you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Aqua says, checking his eyes for signs of exhaustion. “Get your rest.”

It’s that easy and yet Ven walks away defeated. It shouldn’t take long. All Terra has to do is pull out his Gummiphone and find—

“Naminé.”

She’s back near the entrance. Thank the stars she prefers to use full sentences and could direct him where to go to meet her. When she sees him, she signals to be quiet and gestures for him to follow her. They go down a different hallway, one that is much more well kept than the one Aqua and Ven are taking. They pass by labs this way, some filled with computers, others with flasks, half of a library, and infirmary beds. Nothing so far that looks menacing or painful, but maybe Terra is overthinking the whole Xehanort-tortures-people legend. Or maybe the castle is designed to hide such things.

She takes him to a room with a recliner and several computer screens that are running some diagnostics about the security systems outside, and closes the door behind them.

Someone is already waiting here.

“Riku?”

“Terra.”

“What are you doing here?”

Riku holds his waist and draws out a long exhale, like a tired schoolteacher. “Ven was worried.”

“And spilled the beans.” Terra scoffs.

“And spilled the beans.” Riku smirks and it lightens up his whole face in a way that only fits with him. Terra never has to take anything too seriously for too long when he’s around Riku. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone.”

A mixed feeling of anxiety and relief wash over Terra like a lumpy massage on his shoulders. “I don’t mean to do this in secret.”

Riku shrugs. “I would have.”

“I need to say something,” Naminé says, her arms wrapped around a lineless notebook. Even when announcing to a room, she keeps herself soft and small. “I’m not entirely confident about this.”

Riku snorts.

“How is that funny?”

“It’s not, I’m sorry.” After noticing how she’s staring at him with utter confusion, he waves at her. “You’re a lot more capable than you give yourself credit for.”

Unconvinced, she sighs and motions to the recliner. “Please get comfortable, Terra.”

“What is this going to look like anyway?” Riku leans on the dashboard behind him, a ghostly light silhouetting him like a grim reaper on guard.

Naminé pouts. That same light gives her an eldritch glow, illuminating her white dress. “I’m going to attempt to connect Terra to Xehanort’s memories.”

“Nam,” Riku says, crossing his arms, suddenly serious. “That’s not a good idea.”

“Attempt.”

“Xehanort is dead.”

“But memories stay with you,” Terra objects. They do. He can play them in his head, over and over. He already has for years.

Eraqus lives as long as Terra can replay his voice.

“From what I understood,” Riku says, leaning on his thighs, “you don’t remember being Xehanort. So how can you connect to his memories?”

But death is a one way door.

“He was in my body,” Terra says. However, that Riku is skeptical of this suddenly makes Terra uneasy.

“Would you say you were bonded with Xehanort?” Naminé asks, so quiet it’s a shy whisper, afraid to ignite a bomb with the soundwaves of her voice.

“Does irreparable damage count?”

“That may hurt you in the long run,” she says, pulling a stool aside Terra and opening her notebook on her lap. “What I mean is, the memories we share with other people form the bonds. They link together, like chains.”

Chains. Terra winces.

“You choose who you bond with, in all the decisions you’ve made in the past,” she continues.

In some way, Terra has chosen to bond with Xehanort, hasn’t he? He chose to confide in him, and he carries the shackles all these years later.

“But you are trying to access memories you’ve played no role in,” Naminé says. “There is nothing to link between the two, except for the body.”

“That isn’t enough?” Terra sits on the recliner. It’s stiff and unyielding, but he leans on his back and looks up at the monitor, illegible script running numbers upside down.

Riku groans.

“If you were still carrying Xehanort with you,” she says, “I think I could have made an artificial connection there.” Slowly flipping pages, she grimaces until she finds a blank slate. “Kind of like I used to do. I can create false memories. I can break chains and rechain them. But I cannot propel you to a time you did not exist.”

“I did exist,” Terra says softly.

“What she’s trying to say,” Riku says, getting up on his feet and pacing,“is that you’re doing what Sora did before he disappeared.” Sora, a warning to keep you from getting lost in the woods. “I’m not comfortable with this.”

Naminé splays out crayons on the nearby table: one orange, one blue, a green and a red. She looks sickly. “But Sora went too far.”

“So,” Terra starts, obviously a fool even to himself, “you mean if I don’t go as far, I can be okay.”

Naminé fiddles with her fingers. “I can’t guarantee that. I don’t know what you will end up seeing.”

Terra pauses. He’d be testing the limits of chance in putting Aqua and Ven through this grief again. It’s hard to imagine—Aqua getting the news of something happening, choosing not to cry in front of people she doesn’t know. Robin Hood would have made better choices.

But Aqua would grieve anyway if she goes through those books, picturing no one else but Terra doing all those horrible things. He’s heard some of the stories: the screaming at night, the monsters, the disappearances that start with the children and later swallow the entire family, where neighbors never see them come home again. Xehanort happened to all of them.

“I don’t mean you will disappear.” She lets loose a nervous chuckle.

“But I could go nuts,” Terra says with a painted smile.

“That’s why Ven asked me to be here,” Riku says, that edge of his sanded out some. “I’ve lost count how many times I’ve beaten Xehanort. Or Ansem. They’re the same really. I don’t think you’d be too much of a hassle.”

“Well, thanks,” Terra says, and Riku replies with a fisted nudge on his shoulder.

What’s the fun in playing the game if you already know the outcome? Terra doesn’t know why he’s thinking that way, but he’s absolutely stupid for taking the gamble. There’s no way Yen Sid seriously considers him for Mastery.

And Aqua would grieve anyway.

“I don’t want to let it come to that,” Naminé says, eyes on the floor.

“Are you going to make me watch Xehanort?” Terra asks.

“That’s up to you.” She starts with red. “I can’t make you do anything without writing memories for you.”

“Should let his heart guide him?” Riku asks.

May your fickle, sickly heart be your guiding key to oblivion and all the ridiculous delusions you hold dear.

“It’s a safer way to approach it,” Naminé says, not nodding but not shrugging either.

“Why am I not surprised.”

Terra doesn’t know why she sounds so insecure about her skills when he’s heard nothing but amazing things. “I suggest letting your mind move with your feelings,” she tells him. “Don’t force a thought, and don’t get lost in the emotions. Just sit. Does that make sense?” She taps the crayon to her chin.

“It does.” Terra counts his breaths. In three, out five. In five, out seven. Xehanort. He doesn’t know what to think about Xehanort. Hatred is useless. Revenge is futile. Anger will sabotage his way to Mastery. While Terra has tried his best in his meditation exercises, he’s only done them for the sake of earning good marks in his classes. Settling down, not thinking, relaxing—those are things Terra’s never claimed to be good at, especially lately.

Xehanort walked through these halls with Terra’s body. Should he try and picture himself instead? In the same lab coat Ienzo wears? With white hair, most likely. And definitely too much hair gel.

“What’s it going to be like?”

“A dream,” Naminé says, her crayon drawing loops on the page, though Terra cannot see what it is.

“It already feels like I’m dreaming,” Terra says, watching the ceiling ebb and flow with running lights from the computer monitors behind him. Ever since he stepped in here, it’s felt like he lived a lifetime away from home. No start, no ending, moving pictures that he loses as soon as he blinks. Nothing stays, like waking up and forgetting a whole night.

“I have to warn you,” Naminé says, her voice quieter, “I may have to unchain the memories you want linked together if it gets too hard for you.”

And there, in the midst of wondering if he’s ever going to get this right, he thinks of a white door he’s never seen before.

#kh terra #terra #kingdom hearts fanfiction #kh fanfic #dilan #aeleus #ienzo #namine #kh riku #i'm so exhausted it feels like I'm sprinting #my fic

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clumsyclifford · 3 years

Note

hello!!! so i would be very interested in a fic based on all i want to hear you say by sea girls??? i know i’m promo ing them a lot but i think it could be a good fic concept??

you know what’s wild meg is i have had this prompt in my inbox for fully almost seven months and i was just reaching a point where i figured i would never write it. and then i did. so there’s your lesson in never deleting a prompt am i right

thank you @allsassnoclass for your invaluable feedback i love you

read it here on ao3

Calum only sees it because he has Luke’s Twitter notifications turned on, although if Michael asks, Calum doesn’t even know Luke’s on Twitter.

@LukeHemmings Tweeted:

missed u manchester!!

At which point he does the only logical thing: he excuses himself to the bathroom in the back and hyperventilates for about five minutes. And then he does a second, decidedly more idiotic thing.

“...Hello? Calum?”

“Hi, uh,” Calum clears his throat. “Hi. Luke.”

It is Luke on the other end. Somehow he hasn’t changed his number. Not that people typically change their numbers after only a year, but Luke is different. Luke is famous now. Not like Calum, whose band has been playing this bar since he was old enough to drink here. Since they were old enough.

Calum wonders what would have happened if Luke had never left. Maybe the band would have gone somewhere. Now he’ll never know.

“Calum,” Luke says. It might be wishful thinking, but Calum is pretty sure he sounds happy. “What’s up? Haven’t heard from you in a while.”

Yeah. Since Luke moved to London. Well. Since Luke got cast in a play in the West End and relocated in less than a week. Calum knows exactly when they last spoke was, and not only because there’s a time stamp on the text messages. Luke’s play — okay, the play Luke is starring in — had been a smashing success, and after he’d left Calum on read three times in a row, Calum had gotten the unsent message loud and clear.

He’d thought they were the kind of friends distance could never conquer, but apparently he’d been mistaken.

Now he’s not sure what to say.

“Yeah, sorry,” he manages, awkwardly chewing the inside of his cheek. “It’s, life got busy, you know, uh, you know how it is.” Duh. Of course he knows how it is. He’s fucking Luke Hemmings. If anyone’s going to understand life getting busy, it’s Luke. “I just, I saw you were in town.”

“Oh, yeah,” Luke says, laughing a bit. “I am, yeah. I should’ve called, my bad.”

“No, no,” Calum says quickly. “It’s — no worries.” Lucky I’ve got you on Twitter notifs, isn’t it, he doesn’t add. “How long are you here?”

“Just the weekend,” Luke says. “I go back on Monday.”

It’s out before Calum can stop himself: “D’you want to have lunch or dinner or something?” He swallows. “While you’re here?”

Someone knocks on the bathroom door. “Calum?” Michael. Fantastic. The last person Calum needs to hear from right now.

“Give me a minute!” Calum says, kicking the door. He winces. “Sorry. Mi— I’m, uh, possibly hiding in the bathroom. During my shift.”

Luke huffs a laugh. “I’d love to get lunch or dinner or whatever,” he says. It doesn’t even sound like he’s lying. Then again, this man is nominated for an Olivier. He could convince Calum he was interested in diving into an active volcano.

(He certainly managed to convince Calum that he was interested in him, so Calum should probably know better by now.)

“You could come to our show,” Calum says, because he’s petty. Or a fucking masochist. It’s possible to be both. “The band, I mean. We have a gig on Saturday night?”

“Oh!” Luke sounds surprised. Probably because he hadn’t anticipated the band staying together after he’d left. This isn’t fucking Take That, Calum thinks bitterly. Maybe being famous has gone to Luke’s head more than Calum had originally thought.

Except then Luke says, “Shit, I’d love to come to a gig. I’ve missed you lads. You want to get dinner before? After? What time is the gig?”

And Calum’s right back where he started: hopelessly infatuated.

“Gig’s at six, so yeah, dinner afterwards,” Calum says. He shifts nervously on his feet. “Don’t get excited. Our venue hasn’t changed.”

“Still the pub?” Luke sounds fond. “Aw, I miss that place, though. I’m looking forward to coming back.”

You don’t need an invite, Calum thinks. You can just show up.

That might not be true anymore, though.

“Sure you can handle it?” he says drily. “I mean, you’re not worried about crazed fans?”

Luke laughs awkwardly. “In a cheap bar in Western Manchester? Think I’ll be okay.” Calum’s trying to work out whether that’s a subtle dig when Luke adds, “Look, I’ve gotta run, actually, some — press things, but, uh, I’ll be there at six.”

“Great,” Calum says. “Fantastic. See you then.”

“See you then,” says Luke. He hangs up. Calum puts his phone in his pocket and stares judgmentally at himself in the mirror.

“Stop looking at me like that,” he mutters, rolling his eyes and turning away to return to his job.

—

The fucking A string is fucked up. Calum has been trying to tune his bass to no avail — no matter how much he turns the tuning peg, the tuner won’t declare it a clear A. “Michael,” he says sharply, “my bass won’t tune.”

Michael materialises, his guitar slung over his shoulder. “Because you’re turning the wrong fucking knob,” he says. Calum looks over at his fingers.

Oh.

“Oh,” Calum says embarrassedly. He moves his fingers and tunes the A string, then moves to the D string, which has gone completely flat thanks to Calum’s mistaken fiddling.

“You’re all nervous because Luke’s coming,” Michael says, shaking his head to let Calum know exactly how he feels about that. “Stop worrying about it. He didn’t give a shit about the band when he was in it, he definitely won’t give a shit now that he’s out, alright?”

“Not helping,” Calum says, glaring. “And that’s not fair to Luke and you know it. He cared about the band. What was he supposed to do, not accept a life-changing opportunity?”

Michael just rolls his eyes. They usually avoid discussing Luke. It always ends with Michael disparaging his name and Calum jumping to his defence, with Ashton stuck uncomfortably in the middle. Ashton had only been in the band about two weeks before Luke left — he’d never gotten the chance to know Luke. Calum also suspects Ashton just doesn’t want to get involved, because it had been clear to anyone in the room during rehearsals that Luke loved it. Calum doesn’t blame him for leaving.

Just because he misses Luke like a lost limb, doesn’t mean Calum holds it against him.

“Whatever,” Michael says. “Long as he doesn’t try to rejoin.”

They could use Luke in the band again, but Luke’s more likely to dive into that active volcano than ask to rejoin the band, especially if Michael’s got that look on his face. “Yeah, Mike, I promise I won’t let the Olivier-nominated Luke Hemmings rejoin our band if he asks,” Calum says flatly.

Michael makes a face. Calum makes one back.

“Boys,” Ashton interjects, sensing the tension lifting. “Less flirting, more setting up, please?”

Calum immediately throws an arm around Michael’s shoulders and grabs Michael’s head. Michael doesn’t protest when Calum smacks an exaggerated kiss to his cheek, because he’s amazing and the best friend ever. “But father, I love him.”

Michael clutches Calum melodramatically in return. “You can’t keep us apart, Ashton! You’ve been against intra-band love since the very first, but Calum’s the only man for me!”

And then he dissolves into giggles, taking Calum down with him.

“I can’t fucking stand the pair of you,” Ashton says, grinning wryly down at them.

“Someone’s jealous,” Calum snickers. “Mikey, I think Ashton wants in.”

“Hey, Luke’s here,” Ashton says. Both of them jerk upright like soldiers called to attention. “Sure, Luke can get you to behave and he’s not even in the band anymore, but when I ask it’s like talking to a wall? I see how it is.”

Michael kicks at his cajón. “Fuck off.”

Calum tries to turn subtly without looking like he’s turning. Sure enough, Luke is standing at the bar, chatting with Alex who’s behind it and preparing a drink. Probably a tequila soda. That had always been Luke’s order. He glances over at the stage and catches Calum’s eye.

Calum might as well be a year younger for how it still feels to meet Luke’s gaze.

This isn’t the Luke that left a year ago. Calum hadn’t expected that Luke. The news feeds have provided him with both mental and literal images of this new Luke, Luke Hemmings of the stage. Swanky clothes. Longer hair. Gone are the lip piercing, the ratty snapback that used to hide what Luke deemed “bad hair days” as if his hair ever looked different, the beaten trainers. If Luke looked worse, Calum would feel better.

But Luke doesn’t look worse. He just looks good in a different way. In fact, he looks better. More importantly, he looks far too expensive to be hanging around this sketty pub. Despite seeing photographs of him online nearly every day since his departure, Calum is taken aback by how much has changed in a year.

He’s not equipped. That much is clear. This had been a mistake. Calum’s going to open his mouth and instead of saying hello he’ll say I can’t believe you became more gorgeous and you’re back just to mock us and laugh at the band you used to front and make me feel like even more of an idiot for thinking you liked me.

“It’s six,” Michael informs Calum, tapping his shoulder. Calum whips around, startled. The neck of his bass almost knocks over the mic stand. Michael raises an eyebrow. “We can start playing, yeah?”

“I’m ready,” Calum says. Michael gives him a Look. “I am,” Calum repeats. “Are you?”

“Yes,” Michael says huffily. He steps up to the microphone and turns it on. Calum takes his spot at his mic and waits for Michael to introduce them — “We’re 5 Seconds of Summer, and we hope you like our set!” — before going straight into ‘Unpredictable.’

He tries not to watch Luke for the whole set, but he can’t really help it. Not only is Luke the most magnetic person in the bar no matter how much it fills up, he’s also sitting directly in Calum’s line of sight. Intentionally? By coincidence? Calum decides he doesn’t want to know. Because it’s probably the latter.

He does see someone approach Luke for an autograph and a photo at one point, though. Which is so weird that Calum forgets his next lyric and Michael shoots him another Look.

The audience grows slowly throughout their set; Calum recognises a lot of the regulars, smiles and waves to the ones who smile and wave first. Behind the bar, Alex air-guitars along to their cover of ‘What’s My Age Again,’ as usual. Before Calum knows it, they’re playing their last song.

There’s no pretending they wouldn’t be better with two guitarists instead of just one, but Calum has to admit: as three-piece bands go, they’re pretty fucking incredible. Even if they never make it big, Calum can rest easy knowing it’s because of bad luck, not lack of talent.

“Thank you so much,” Michael says into the microphone. “We’ve been 5 Seconds of Summer, check out our Facebook page for information on future gigs.”

“Thank you, everyone,” Calum contributes, then steps away to let the scattered applause wash over him.

Luke is clapping loudest of all. He would do that, as an alumnus of the band. If bands can have alumni.

When the attention of the room at large moves away from them, they set to taking apart and packing up their equipment. Calum is coiling up the cord for his bass when someone taps him on the shoulder.

“That was wicked,” says Luke. Like they’re not the first words he’s said to Calum’s face in a year. Calum stares at him. His face is glittering. Oh. That’s makeup. It’s shimmering on his eyelids when he blinks. Gold, sparkly. Pretty. Does Luke wear makeup now? Or is he only wearing it tonight because it’s a special occasion? Even though it’s really not a special occasion? It must be the former. Luke wears makeup now. He doesn’t post a lot on Instagram — yes, Calum has notifications on for him there, too — and when he does it’s usually show-related stuff, in show makeup. Point being Calum’s earlier theory is once again proving itself true: he is not equipped.

“Thanks,” he says after he’s made is sufficiently awkward with his fucking staring game. He smiles. “Could’ve probably used another guitarist, but we do alright, yeah?”

Luke ducks his head. Great, really well fucking done, Calum. Way to guilt him. “I’m teasing,” he hurriedly assures Luke. “Thanks for coming.”

“Do you need a hand?” Luke gestures at the mess of cords around Calum’s feet.

Calum opens his mouth, but Michael, unfortunately, beats him to it. “We’re okay,” he says, stepping forward. “Hi, Luke. Nice of you to make an appearance.”

“Michael,” Calum hisses.

Luke bites his lip. “Hey, Michael. It’s, uh. You guys sounded sick, I was telling Calum.”

Even Calum can hear the no thanks to you on the tip of Michael’s tongue. “Which I agreed with,” he says, looking at Michael like be fucking civil. “Because we did.”

“Yeah,” Michael scoffs. “Well, Cal, if you want to go on your date, Ash and I can handle the rest of the cleanup.”

Calum frowns and blushes at the same time, which feels funny. “I’m — I can —”

“Honestly, go,” Michael says, sighing. “If it’ll get Luke out of here, then go.”

“Jesus Christ, Michael,” Calum snaps. “Get your head out of your arse, would you? If you’re offended that Luke took an opportunity for success, then one of you is a dickhead and it’s not him.”

Michael’s face hardens. He snatches the half-coiled cord out of Calum’s hands. “Go,” he repeats. It’s not a request this time.

Calum grinds his teeth and turns to Luke, who’s frozen in place with a pained expression.

“Ignore him,” he says tightly. “He’s been a dick about the whole thing. Let’s just go.”

Luke hesitantly follows after Calum. “I didn’t realise —”

“Great set!” Alex calls, wiping down the bar. Calum manages a smile just for him.

“Thanks,” he says, then glances over at Luke. “Yeah. I reckon I should have warned you.”

“I meant it that I’ve missed you lot,” Luke says mournfully. “I mean, I knew he wasn’t pleased, but…I sort of hoped he’d have gotten over it? Not that— I know I left, so I did ask for it —”

“Luke, come on. Don’t be thick.” Calum scoffs as they leave the bar. “It’s a Michael problem. He just thinks it’s an Olympic sport to hold the longest grudge or something. I love him, but he’s a fucking arsehole when he wants to be.”

“I — I know, but…” Luke sighs. “Yeah. I guess.”

The evening air is cool. Around them, shops and street lamps flood the road with illumination. The gold on Luke’s face catches the light like it’s being paid to do it. Calum only glances briefly at him before looking back at the pavement ahead and asking, “So…what do you fancy for dinner?”

“I seem to recall a Maccies this way,” Luke says. “I know it’s not the most elegant of places, but…”

“Say no more,” Calum says. “You never need to convince me to get Maccies.”

—

They sit across from each other, quiet for a few minutes as they both devour their burgers. Luke’s nails are painted with clear gloss. Calum isn’t sure if it’s the theatre effect or just the London effect that’s given him this extra glamour. Or the fame thing. Which is still decidedly strange. And also reminds Calum:

“Congrats, by the way.”

Luke looks up, confused. “Huh?”

“On the Olivier nomination,” Calum says. Luke smiles. “That’s a big deal.”

“It’s, uh, yeah. A bit.” He laughs. “Okay, a lot. It’s mad. Thank you.”

“You deserve it,” Calum says. “The play’s —” No. Nope. That’s not something he wants to admit to. “I’ve heard it’s good,” he amends quickly, but it’s too late. Luke, who is the definition of selectively perceptive, squints.

“Have you seen it?”

Calum presses his lips together. His silence could probably speak for itself, but whatever. “I saw it last month,” he confesses. “My mum got us tickets, me and her and Mali.”

Luke stares. “And you didn’t think to tell this to me? Or ring me while you were in London?”

“You didn’t ring me when you came here,” Calum retorts.

Luke bites his lip. “Touché. But why didn’t you say hello?”

Calum huffs a laugh. “You ignored my last three texts, Luke. I know how to take a hint.”

At this, Luke smacks his palm to his forehead. “Fuck. Shit. Fuck. I never replied to you. I’m so sorry. I kept reading them at the worst times and then forgetting to respond. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

“I’m really sorry,” Luke repeats. “I didn’t mean to fall out of touch, honest. I just…”

“Got busy,” Calum finishes. “I know. You don’t have to tell me. And look, not for nothing, the play’s bloody brilliant. So your hard work hasn’t been in vain.”

“God, I’m a fucking idiot,” Luke says, like he hasn’t heard Calum speak. “Just the other day I was thinking of you. Wondering why you never reached out. I figured you were upset at me for leaving. Like Michael.”

“What? And you didn’t think to shoot me a text, maybe?”

“I thought you were cross! I didn’t think you would want to hear from me!”

“Luke —” Calum breaks off and shakes his head. “Can’t believe I thought you were any different when you’re actually the same fucking moron who left here.”

“Hey,” Luke halfheartedly protests. “Fucking moron who’s nominated for an Olivier.”

“Oh, excuse me,” Calum says, rolling his eyes and grinning. Luke laughs almost to himself. “Look, it’s okay. We’re good now, yeah?”

Luke nods. “Promise to text you back from now on. And if I don’t, it’s not because I don’t want to hear from you. Just keep texting me. I’ll — I’m —”

“Don’t tell me you’re busy,” Calum says. “I know you are. I read the articles. How you find the time to do interviews and also a show eight times a week is beyond me.”

Luke quirks his lips. “You read those?”

“Of course I do,” Calum says. At first it was just to see if you’d say anything about me, he does not say. “Number one Hemmo fan.”

Luke laughs. “You didn’t even wait at the stage door to say hello. You’re nowhere near the number one fan.”

Calum scoffs in mock offence. “Yeah? Do your other fans know your drink order? Do they know who your first concert was? Do they have your phone number?”

“That’s not being a fan, you idiot, that’s being my friend,” Luke says, laughing.

Calum waves him off. “Same thing.”

“So what have you been doing?” Luke prompts once he’s polished off his burger. The napkin crinkles in his hands when he wipes his fingers, an action which becomes entirely pointless as he munches on the oily chips that had come with his meal.

“I still work at the bar,” Calum says. “Mike and I both. My, uh, my life is basically the same, honestly. Except we get paid slightly more to play now.”

“You should be playing the O2,” Luke says. “You’re really good.”

“Yeah, well.” Calum shrugs. “Can’t all have our dreams come true.”

Remorse crawls over Luke’s face. Shit. Calum isn’t doing it on purpose. It’s just that sitting here, eating greasy fast food, it’s so easy to forget that they live in different worlds now. Passerbys peering through a window at them could surely tell, though. Calum’s Rolling Stones shirt and black snapback are no match for Luke’s carefully styled curls and leather jacket. It’s not a ratty leather jacket, either, but one of the really nice ones. Probably Gucci or something equally outrageous.

It doesn’t mean Calum’s any less smitten. Just that the crater between them might be too vast to cross, and Calum keeps forgetting there’s a crater at all until he nearly trips over the edge. Moments like now, where the look on Luke’s face is that of a kicked puppy.

“Calum,” he starts, but Calum shakes his head.

“Never mind, sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“You did a bit, though,” Luke says. “Right? You wouldn’t have said it if you didn’t mean it a bit.”

“I’m not guilting you for doing what you love, Luke,” Calum says firmly. “I’m not. Anyway, I’m doing fine. Better, even. Don’t get a guilt complex, please. I’m happy for you, I’m happy myself, everything is fine.”

Luke grimaces and stuffs several chips in his mouth. Calum chomps down on one of his own. It’s a bit soggy but at least sufficiently salted. Not the best chips he’s had, though far from the worst.

“We left things a bit weird, though, didn’t we,” Luke says, staring determinedly at the table.

Calum nearly chokes on his chips.

A bit weird is probably the right way to put it. Calum’s been rejected in some pretty harsh ways, but having the boy in question pack up and move to a whole new city had been a first for him. If it had been a clear-cut rejection then maybe Calum could have handled it. It was the uncertainty that had done him in. Maybe that’s why he never made a real effort to stay in touch.

It’s one thing when your friend won’t answer your texts. It’s another when you really thought that friend had been into you, only for him to turn around and announce that instead of going out with you he’d be moving to London.

“I don’t mind if we just move past that,” Calum says now, hoping in vain that his voice won’t betray how much he has not moved past it. He’s an adult. He can be friends with someone he also fancies an embarrassing amount. He hadn’t intended to mention the whole will-we-won’t-we thing they’d done just before Luke had left. There’s not a lot to say about it.

“Do you mind if we don’t move past it? Yet?” Luke says nervously. “Can I say something and then we can move past it if you still want to?”

Calum swallows. What the fuck could Luke possibly have to say about it, other than to maybe apologise for leading Calum on the way he did? “Uh, I suppose?”

Luke clears his throat. “Okay. Well, um, I just wanted to say that…I think when I left, that you maybe got the impression I was turning you down. And. I wasn’t. At all. I didn’t want to leave you, it was just what made the most sense, being in the play and everything. Um, and I didn’t really say anything because it wouldn’t have been fair of me to tell you I liked you when I was also moving four hours away — like, I didn’t want to do that to you.” He laces his fingers together on the table. “But you, um, seemed. Hurt. And I didn’t know how to tell you before, so I’m telling you now, it wasn’t because I didn’t like you. I did. I do.”

Calum must forget to breathe, because it’s dead silent around them. Luke finally looks up and winces. “Also, this isn’t a guilt trip, so like— if you have a boyfriend now, that’s— sorry, I guess I should have checked?”

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” Calum says. “The bloke I was hoping would be my boyfriend decided to move to London and become a star, and I haven’t exactly gotten over him yet.”

A small, tentative smile pulls at Luke’s lips. “Really?”

“You sure took your time clearing that up,” Calum says. His heart is beating unreasonably fast, but he thinks it’s probably excused on the basis that the boy he’s fancied for two years and who would’ve broken Calum’s heart had Calum gotten the chance to share it with him is now returning his feelings. Exhilaration flutters around his chest, and he smiles. “But yeah, really.”

Luke’s face breaks into a genuine smile. He pushes a strand of hair behind his ear. “Oh, thank God. I thought after this long—”

“Underestimating just how much I like you, obviously,” Calum says. Luke brightens like a fucking spotlight. “Though it’s been the same amount of time for you, so if I have problems, then so have you.”

“Who’s got problems?” Luke says. “This is the opposite of a problem. I’m thrilled.”

“You do still live in London,” Calum points out, because again: masochist.

A shadow crosses Luke’s face, but it quickly disappears. “That’s— it’s only four hours.”

“Only.”

“Okay, it’s—” Luke squeezes his eyes shut. “I don’t— shit. Look. I know it’s not practical, okay? But can we just pretend it is? So this isn’t a complete loss? I’m here until Monday morning.”

“One whole day,” Calum says. “Lucky us.”

“Yes,” Luke says decisively. “Be my boyfriend for a day, Cal. We’ll figure it out from there.”

Every objection Calum has flies from his mind at Luke saying be my boyfriend. Struggling to maintain his composure, he hedges, “Really? You want to have a boyfriend who lives in Manchester and works in a bar and doesn’t even know how to identify what makeup you’re wearing? Which looks fantastic, by the way? And did I mention the whole living-in-Manchester thing? You know, four hours from London?”

Luke fixes him with a look. “Yeah, I want you to be my boyfriend, Calum. And all of the things that includes. It’s worth it to me.”

And. Well. Shit. “It’s worth it to me, too,” Calum admits.

Maybe if he’d said that a year ago, Luke would have listened. Maybe they’d have gotten here much sooner. But at least they’re here at all.

Luke reaches across the table and his lips quirk up. “That’s all I want to hear you say.”

For a moment, Calum imagines that life is easy. Luke could always leave the show. Move back to Manchester. Spend late nights and early mornings in Calum’s flat (having made up with Michael, who splits Calum’s rent and living space). Do his makeup in their bathroom mirror and explain it all to Calum as he goes. Rejoin the band despite Michael’s initial stubborn grudge, and finally reclaim his role as lead singer, finally doing justice to melodies Calum and Michael could never quite sing the same way. If Luke had never been cast, Calum wonders if that’s how their lives would be.

But it’s not how their lives are, and Calum doesn’t want that anyway. Luke is doing what he’s born to do, and Calum would never forgive himself to pull him away from that. He doesn’t want it to be easy. The fact that Luke knows it won’t be easy and is willing to take it on anyway means far more, to Calum.

They can figure it out.

He laces his fingers with Luke’s and squeezes once, smiling when Luke smiles. So much is different, but fuck if that’s not the same beaming, blushing smile that’s always been just a little too big for Luke’s face. There’s hope for them yet. Calum can feel it.

#calum hood #luke hemmings #cake #cake fic #5sos #5sos fic #fic #my fic #meg i compromised with this fic #so the calum is my type but the luke is your type #i hope that's a fair trade to you #i would also like to apologize for the fact that this fic specifically takes place in manchester #(where i have never been)#and makes many references to london (where i have also never been. and you live.)#hope i didnt get anything horrifically wrong !#kept it as vague as possible but knowing me........#anyway love you thanks for giving me this prompt in AUGUST #i was literally just listening to my liked songs on shuffle tonight #(crying a little. because the scientist played and whos gonna NOT cry at the scientist)#and this song came on #and i was like hey. actually i CAN see this as a fic #i've had the doc probably since the day you sent this ask but never knew how to write it #so! glad i finally tackled it #kaleidoscopeminds #ask #answered

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staranon95 · 4 years

Text

the replacement

a red hood au drabble

Fiona likes working at night best. She considers herself to be a bit of a night owl, and she’s always willing to go that extra mile to do what need to be done. She’s been with the crew only full time for a year and been working with them for at least two. The others accept her. They joke around with her. They treat her as one of the regulars, and Fiona couldn’t be happier with that. She clawed her way into this position and she wants to keep it like that.

Her job includes a lot of stealth work. Seeing as she’s one of the newer members to the crew, her face isn’t as recognizable by their rivals and also the law. So it’s easier for her to get into buildings, to do her look arounds, to plant bugs if they need them, and get into places they just can’t. She’s at one of these places right now—some mcmansion in the Vinewood hills. The owners have since left the house for their chateau in France, leaving this one wide open for a little reconnaissance.

It’s easier to focus this time around now that she knows Red won’t be there to taunt her. Who the fuck is that guy anyway? Trevor and Gavin seem to think it’s their long dead friend Alfredo, and Fiona doesn’t know much about him to dispute it, so she hasn’t been trying to stick her nose in places it doesn’t belong. But she knows Alfredo’s unfortunate death weighs heavily on a lot of the crew. He’s a regret. He’s a guilty conscience on a lot of them.

Fiona never knew him, never met him. She only knows of Alfredo’s legacy. A fast talking, sticky finger thief that knew how to work his way into any situation put before him. He was quick, light on his feet, and always up to the job. So when Fiona came on the scene some time after his death, she had the feeling she was filling someone else’s shoes and that the crew expected her to be like him. Well, she wasn’t Alfredo and she wasn’t about to be his replacement.

From the beginning she showed that she was meaner, more shrewd, more skeptical than Alfredo ever was, and it was this shrewdness that helped the crew out of some sticky situations. Fiona trusts her gut instinct in any place she finds herself in. If she doesn’t feel good about a potential move, then she doesn’t launch herself into it. She restrains herself. Apparently that was never Alfredo’s strongest characteristic.

So she’s made a place here with them. She’s since stepped out from Alfredo’s shadow and made her own identity among them. Super Nova. Because when she blows up, she makes sure everyone knows how pissed she is.

This reconnaissance work is pretty simple and by the books tonight. She gets it done without needing any help from Matt or the others. But she knows the majority of them are handling the Red situation as best they can. She’ll head to Matt’s place with the things she’s discovered and close out the night by crashing on his couch. But when she gets there, she gets a whole lot more than what she was asking for.

“Oh, yeah, so turns out Alfredo is alive,” Matt says.

“What? You’ve got to be kidding me. He exploded!”

“Yeah.”

“No one found a body.”

“I know.”

“So . . .” She holds up her hands and sinks them into her hair. “How?”

“Kdin got me his fingerprints when he was passed out cold. I ran them and yeah, checks out. Red’s Alfredo.”

“Well. What does this mean then? What does Trevor have to say about this?”

“Other than confirming Red is Alfredo? Not much. I’m honestly thinking about tagging in Geoff on this one.”

“That bad?”

“When someone comes back from the dead—”

“Okay, yeah, I see your point there.”

Fiona kicks off her shoes and flops back onto the couch, pulling out her phone and swiping through her notifications. Nothing exciting that she can use for intel. No trending hashtags on Twitter that she could make use of. She shuts her phone off and stretches out on the couch, intending to sleep for a few hours before maybe moving off to her own place for the rest of the night. She’s already decided she’s taking tomorrow off.

She ends up sleeping until six, the light from the sun beginning to spill onto the floor. She has crick in her neck from her awkward sleeping position. She gets up and drinks a glass of water, moves to the bathroom to freshen up, and then digs through Matt’s fridge to see what he has to eat. While all this is going on, she peeks down the hallway towards the bedrooms. The door to Matt’s office is open. He’s never been against anyone snooping on those computers. Just his laptop that he refuses to let anyone touch.

She takes her toasted bagel with her into the office to see what Matt has dug up on Red/Alfredo. Nothing much, really. Other than confirmation through fingerprints. The profile he used to catch a ride with Lindsay has been stolen from another customer, so that’s a dead end.

An incoming call interrupts her musings. It’s Trevor.

“Hey, Trev, what’s up?”

“Fiona, hey. I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“If you did, I doubt you’d feel bad for calling at six-thirty.”

“Right. Yeah. Um.”

“How’s the Alfredo situation?”

“It’s something. He’s been out most of the night, but woke up an hour ago. I think you can probably guess how it went down.”

“Did he squeeze out a window?”

“We at least had the foresight to lock the window.”

Fiona smirks and tears piece off her bagel. “So what’s up? I doubt you’re just calling to confirm some easy details.”

“Yeah, about that. We need a place to stash Alfredo. And seeing as the penthouse is no more, we figured—”

“That you’d offer up my place? Hell, no! Why don’t you pass him off onto Jeremy? Or Lindsay and Michael. Two of them should be able to handle him.”

“Yeah, but he knows them. He doesn’t know you. It might make things a bit safer and bit easier for us to figure out what’s going on. He’s going to be hopped up on painkillers anyway, so you’re going to have the most blissed out temporary roommate ever.”

She groans loudly so Trevor knows how much this pisses her off. “How long?”

“A few days. Until we get a secure place up for him.”

“I hope you know I do not want to be responsible for him getting out.”

“Of course. But he seems pretty chill right now, so he might be willing to sit tight for a few days.”

“You’re not expecting him to stay, are you?”

“In all honestly? No. Just long enough for us to hear him out. If he gets away, then fine. I don’t want to hold him prisoner.”

“Trev—”

“It’s okay. I’m okay. Just . . . feeling weird.”

“Right. Well. Why don’t we let Kdin keep an eye on him and we’ll get everyone together for some early breakfast? How’s that sound?”

“Yeah, yeah that sounds nice.”

The call ends shortly after that. Fiona finishes her bagel and takes one last look at the files open on Matt’s computer. She never did acquaint herself fully with the original crime scene. Maybe it’s time she does that.

#fake ah crew #fahc #gta au #star speaks #star writes #red hood au #having fiona do her own thing around the central plot is a lot of fun to speculate #cant wait for her to actually meet fredo

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devil-in-the-d3tails · 4 years

Text

It’s the End of the World as We Know It - Chapter 1

summary: During the international quarantine in your first-ever pandemic, the people around you slowly begin to disappear. As the world grows quieter and quieter, you find yourself all alone-- no power, no friends, and only one goal: to find whoever of your friends might be left and reunite with them.You're naive to think anything can be that simple. As you're faced with ever-increasing loneliness, you run into some boys who apparently went to the same high school as you. Will you join forces with them to figure out your strange circumstances together, or will you brave loneliness in a world that is slowly crumbling apart?

Link on AO3!

words: 4,452

rating: M - Mature

genre: angst/humor, romance, adventure, apocalypse AU, reader-insert

warnings: sort of depressing content, a smidge of violence, cursing

a/n: hello, hello! this is my first fic for haikyuu (originally posted on AO3), and i wanted to post it on tumblr as well just for shits n gigs. please enjoy!

- Beginning of the End -

It was a Thursday the day everyone disappeared.

The world was quiet outside, but it was loud in your phone, on account of the international quarantine. Everyone was tweeting, making dumb videos, playing video games. You would sit in your room for hours on end, scrolling through your phone as you mourned the loss of your senior year of high school. No prom, no graduation, no more arts and crafts club. It was bad enough that your closest friend group had been disbanded before your senior year even started-- it was just bad luck, but they all left to live in different states while you were left alone in suburbia.

You stayed home with your mom while your dad went to work-- he was considered an essential worker, as he worked in the grocery store. Your mom was much more active than you, constantly cleaning or cooking or going for a walk. It was admirable, but it irritated you how she would always try and get you to interact with her activities. She did it because she was probably worried about you, and she was probably lonely. You were lonely, too-- your friends lived miles away in the vast expanse of the suburbs, and your home was tucked into the fringes of soccer mom society. Your backyard was larger than most, and it was perfect for when you would host kickbacks with your friends. Recently, however, you had no reason to use the large space.

On Thursday, you decided to put down your phone for a while and play fetch with your dog. She was the biggest and fluffiest best friend you’d ever had, a german shepherd named Indie, short for Indiana, as in the archaeologist. You thought the name was fitting, because she could find almost anything with her nose-- you and your mom had trained her to do that a few summers ago.

Your mom had gone on a walk before you decided to play fetch with the dog. You had left your phone on the kitchen table. It wasn’t until the sun began to set and you felt your arm begin to ache when you noticed that she’d been gone for a while.

You gave Indie her stick, though she sniffed and whined at you stressfully. You frowned, and let her inside as you checked your phone. A few notifications from your friends’ group chat:

4:47pm

Kimi: Anybody else’s power go out?

Callie: omg i thought it was just Ohio!

Kimi: Nah, we got it in Connecticut, too.

Emily: New York, too!

They were asking if you had experienced the same thing.

6:48pm

Me: i didnt notice, i was playing with indie. wbu, sami?

Sami had moved to L.A., about two hours from your home, so you guys were able to hang out most weekends if you took the train or if she drove out to you. She didn’t even read the chat.

6:48pm

Me: bitch i know ur in quarantine smh read my message

[Kimi, Callie, and Emily liked your message!]

You dialed your mom’s number as you went to turn on the T.V., only to be met with static. You frowned, and surfed a few channels only to be met with more static before you turned it off. Her voicemail blared through your phone speakers, and that was when you started to worry.

You hung up, called your dad.

“Hey, honey!” He answered-- he must’ve been on break.

“Dad, did the power go out?”

“Yeah, for a couple minutes there. Did it happen at home, too?”

“Yeah…” You trailed off. Indie licked your hand, and whined some more. “Hey, mom’s not answering her phone and she’s been on a walk for a while. Like, three hours.”

“Huh.” Your dad let out a contemplative sigh. “Well, I’m sure she’ll be okay. Maybe she’s talking with the neighbors and her phone died.”

“Maybe.”

But maybe not. You had a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach, and Indie could sense it as you sat on the couch. She slowly tried to inch her way into your lap, as she never really had a good idea of her own large size. You just let her and scratched her ear.

“Listen, honey, I gotta go. But we can make mac-n-cheese for dinner, how’s that sound?”

“Good, dad.” You said, biting your lip. “Okay, see you when you get home.”

Then, you hung up, and you waited for your mom.

[-]

When your dad got home, you went out to search for your mom. On your tour of the neighborhood, you came across others who had broken quarantine and were searching for their loved ones, too. Saying they went for a walk, or to the store and they didn’t come back.

Your dad remained the voice of reason, saying things like well maybe their phone died, or this is all just some big prank we’ll all laugh about later. You stayed silent.

[-]

Saturday was when your dad didn’t come home. His car was nowhere to be found, but you didn’t trust yourself to drive your mom’s car just yet. Or rather, you didn’t want to drive it because you didn’t want to be reminded that it was permanently vacant. You walked all the way to the store an hour after he was supposed to have gotten off. Manager Dan wasn’t there, either-- nobody had seen your dad at all that day; he was a no-call, no-show.

You walked all the way back home.

9:52pm

Me: my dad’s gone now too

10:05pm

Callie: fuck.

Callie: my sister…

10:06pm

Kimi: I still haven’t heard from Sami.

Emily: Yeah, me neither.

10:15pm

Me: we should check in every day with each other

[Callie and Emily liked your message!]

10:32

Me: Kimi?

[-]

It’s Thursday again.

Emily has stopped answering by now, and the frantic search parties that used to pass by your window every now and again have stopped, too. Even Twitter is quiet-- it seems with every passing day, more and more people go silent. As you lay on your bed with Indie at your feet, you keep refreshing your feed on every social media app, but nothing changes-- all of the posts are old. It feels like your world is shrinking while at the same time expanding into a terrifying void.

5:38pm

Me: callie?

Callie: im here.

You breathe a sigh of relief, which turns into a sob into your pillow.

5:39pm

Me: idk how long we’ll have wifi or even electricity.

Callie: my parents are still here. Come to ohio, seriously.

You bite your lip. You think about Sami, and how many times she pried the truth out of you when you were sad, how she was the only one who would sing with you at karaoke, how you promised to move to New York together.

5:39pm

Me: i have to find sami.

Callie: please just come here. We need to stick together.

Me: i’ll find sami and we’ll come to ohio. Then we go to NY to look for em and kimi.

5:45pm

Callie: okay. Please text.

Me: i will. I promise i’ll come to ohio.

You bite your lip, and glance at your phone’s percentage: 43%. You sigh, and put it on the charger while you go downstairs to scrounge for breakfast. You only woke up about two hours ago, though you can’t sleep much, anyways. You think to yourself how your mom would be scolding you for waking up so late.

As you eat the last poptart, Indie lays down on your feet. You toss her a couple crumbs, she eats them gratefully. You sigh, and look at your now empty pantry-- you have to try and go to the grocery store, whether you like it or not. You only have your permit, but you know that you’re a terrible driver. Still, you get up and put on shoes and grab your jacket. You probably don’t have to worry about cops or the law anymore, anyway-- you suspect everything has disappeared.

You look at yourself in the mirror; you didn’t think your outfit for the apocalypse would be sweatpants and a hoodie. With a sigh, you change into jeans and a long sleeve, layer a flannel on top of that, and your favorite jacket on top of that. It’s cold outside-- much colder than you’re used to.

Based on the incredible silence on Facebook, you figure that most of the adults have disappeared. As you drive further and further into town, you notice some obvious signs of looting from once pristine houses: trash littering lawns, doors left wide open. You get the haunting realization that you’re perhaps the only person left in your neighborhood. It’s amazing how quickly things can turn in just a few days.

When you pull up to the grocery store, you notice there’s only one other car there-- a white van, stationed by the curb and still running. You actually pull into a parking spot like some kind of society bootlicker, and cautiously put the car in park and turn off the engine.

You watch the van for a moment, slowly becoming hyper-aware of the very real possibility that you might run into robbers. Your stomach growls, and you take a deep breath. You should’ve brought Indie.

Grocery bags in hand, you exit your soccer mom minivan and lock it. Steeling your nerves, you put one foot in front of the other. As if on cue, two figures hurry out of the store, glancing behind them before they notice you. The automatic doors have long since stopped running, so they just pause in the doorway while you freeze on the curb, the fumes from the van tickling your nose.

They’re both boys holding bags you assume to be filled with groceries: both around your age, one of them has gray and black spiked hair, and eyes as wide and aware as an owl’s. The one next to him has dark, short, almost curly hair, and his gaze is calculating and cold.

You take a small step back, unsure of what to say. They seem just as apprehensive, when the van door slides open forcefully.

“Hey, what are you doing? Get in!” Another boy, this one of a larger build than the two in front of you with jet black spiked hair, snaps angrily.

“Kuroo, we have a situation.” The curly-haired boy says evenly, though he’s tense. His knuckles are white holding his bags.

“Huh?” The one who must be Kuroo says, and cranes his neck to the side to spot you. “Oh, shit.”

“U-um…” You stutter out, and you suddenly feel extremely cornered-- it’s three against one, and what if they want to take your car? What if they have some kind of weird cult and need a girl for breeding? “I’m just gonna get some-- some poptarts and leave.”

“Holy shit!!” The gray haired one seems to have broken out of his stupor, and he rushes over to you, dropping his bags and their contents on the ground in order to grab your shoulders. “Another person! A-a girl!”

“Yes, she’s a girl…” The curly-haired one sighs, puts his bags in the van and begins to gather up the other one’s forgotten groceries.

“First one I’ve seen in a while.” Kuroo grins and hops from the car to stand beside the gray-haired one who still hasn’t let go of you. You don’t have the balls to tell him to get off-- you’re not sure how dangerous these boys are. “How long have you been hiding out?”

“Come with us! We’re at the high school.” The gray-haired one beams-- how could he possibly be smiling?

You don’t know what to say, so you look away. Your voice seems to be caught in your throat, and that’s extremely frustrating-- but you’re not about to cry in front of these guys.

“Quit it, Bokuto.” The curly-haired one is eyeing you carefully, though not as if you’re a threat. He seems to be the only one that can actually sense your discomfort. The one that’s holding you-- Bokuto-- sighs, and lets you go, instead putting his hands on his hips.

“We should at least help her.” He points out, and grins down at you. “What’s your name, anyway?”

“She’s not gonna tell you. Let’s just go home.” Kuroo shrugs, and you cross your arms.

You tell them your name, if only to spite the taller one. He turns with a grin, and it only just occurs to you that perhaps, that was reverse-psychology. You huff, and look away with a little bit of a blush.

“Like I said, I just need to get poptarts and some other things and then I’m going back home.” You mutter.

“We’re wasting gas.” The curly-haired one calls, as he has already sat in the front seat.

“Hold on, Akaashi!” Bokuto calls. “Listen, there aren’t anymore poptarts in there. None whatsoever.”

Your heart breaks a little, but you keep it together.

“There’s, like, rice and stuff, but I think that’s it.” He shrugs, and turns to get into the van. You bite your lip-- might as well ask rather than waste your time wandering around all alone.

“Is there any dog food left?”

“Huh? Dog food?” Bokuto is right back in front of you. He and Kuroo speak at the same time:

“You’re gonna eat dog food?” Bokuto says. “You have a dog?” Kuroo says, and the two boys glare at each other.

“Yeah…” You say, though you still haven’t gotten an answer to your question. “I mean, I have a dog.”

“Yeah, it’s in aisle five.” You hear the one called Akaashi tell you, without even bothering to turn to look at you.

“I know that.” You snap-- your dad used to work in this store, you know it pretty damn well. Akaashi glances back at you then, probably a little surprised by your defensive tone. You huff, annoyed at yourself for being so touchy. These were the first people you met after about three straight weeks in quarantine, and they might be the only people left for miles. You need to play nice.

“My dad works here.” You explain, looking down at your shoes. Kuroo nods, exchanges a glance with Bokuto. “Well, he used to.”

A silence falls over the group-- they know. You all know, now, what it’s like to lose a parent, or any loved one, for that matter. You blink quickly to fight back any tears that might threaten to escape.

“We’re staying at Karasuno High-- it’s the high school near Flat Top.” Kuroo says. “If you want to join us, we’re kind of setting up camp there.”

“There’s more of us!” Bokuto explains. “We’re gonna find some mattresses after this to bring ‘em back so we can all stick together.”

“Oh, cool.” You say half-heartedly, unsure of why exactly they’re inviting you over as if it’s some kind of fun sleepover. “Wait, you guys went to Karasuno?”

“Yeah! You, too?” Bokuto lights up, and you look at the three boys a little closer, though you don’t seem to recognize them.

“Yeah… but I don’t think we were in the same circles.” You finally smile a little, albeit sadly, now that you’re remembering all the things you’ll never be able to return to now that school and society are essentially gone.

“You ever go to any volleyball games?” Kuroo asks, obviously encouraged by your smile. You shake your head.

Akaashi has exited the van by now with a sigh, coming to stand beside his two friends as he takes a look around. “We need to get going. If you want to join us, you know where to find us. But it’s gonna be dark soon.”

That seems to smack some sense into the other two, and they exchange glances with one another. Kuroo nods, Bokuto sighs, and the two get back into the van. Akaashi pauses, and you accidentally lock eyes with him.

His gaze betrays nothing, and you wonder for a moment how he ever became friends with these two. He reaches into the van, and pulls out a familiar blue cardboard box, gives it to you.

You take the poptarts, and glance up at him questioningly-- he puts a finger to his lips with just the hint of a smile. You smile back.

“Listen, it’s great you have a dog-- keep him close. And get home before it gets dark. And…” He glances to the side uneasily. “Get a baseball bat or something.”

A chill goes up your spine at that last part, and you frown, but nod to the boy in front of you anyways. He returns the nod, and gets in the back of the van. You both share a glance at each other one more time, and it feels as if he wants to say something more, but he doesn’t. He just slides the door closed, and Bokuto waves to you out the window.

“Byee! Hopefully we’ll see you later-- hey, where’d you get those poptarts?!” Bokuto’s voice fades away as the van drives off, and you are once again left alone.

[-]

You gather a fair amount of stuff-- rope, for some reason is included in your loot. You always saw people in the movies get rope, so you figure you’ll find some use for it.

There aren’t any baseball bats, but you do find a hammer and a paring knife. It’s small, but better than nothing. You load up on the dog food, and even manage to haul two huge bags of kibble into your car. As you load it up, you can’t shake the feeling of someone watching you. Even though you look around and make certain that you’re the only person present, the feeling doesn’t go away. You sort of wish you’d gone with those boys now.

You aren’t surprised when the street lights don’t turn on, but you take that as your signal to leave. Even though you want to scrounge for more supplies, you don’t want to risk it. Akaashi’s words of warning hang over your head like a humid fog.

As you drive home, you can’t stop chewing on your lip. Even with your headlights on, it’s hard to see, but you don’t want to turn on your brights and draw more attention to yourself. Just get home, lock the doors, and check in with Callie.

You park the car in your backyard because the garage door won’t open-- the power’s finally gone out. You close the backyard gate and lock it as soon as you’re out of the car, but somehow you still feel uneasy.

As you enter your dark home, you softly call out Indie’s name, and you hear her scamper up to you.

“Good girl,” You whisper, and scratch her ear. You decide to leave the larger groceries in the car for now, as you don’t want to go back outside and keep making trips of transferring the supplies into your house. For now, you need to sleep so that you can ignore the hunger in your belly and stretch out your rations just a little further.

Indie guides you up the stairs and into your bedroom as you set your bag down heavily. You come across your phone with dismay, finding that it hasn’t charged at all since you left, and is now at 7%. You bite your lip, and open up the almost abandoned group chat.

9:57pm

Me: callie im gonna come to ohio soon. I think we are gonna lose connection tho. Idk if this will even send, but ill see u in ohio. I love you.

The message doesn’t send. You shudder out a sigh, and you’re grateful when Indie nuzzles into your side.

Your phone finally shuts off, though it’s useless now, anyway. You crawl into your bed and Indie curls up next to you, and you fall into an uneasy sleep.

[-]

“Shh!”

You jolt awake at the hissing sound that’s coming from downstairs. Indie is tense and alert, and she licks your elbow. You sit up, and vaguely note the time: 3:37am.

There’s some shuffling, and you see the beam of what you assume to be a flashlight shakily illuminate the walls downstairs. You didn’t close your bedroom door when you came in, because you assumed that you were alone.

‘Stupid…’ You think to yourself as you grip Indie’s collar. She begins to growl, but you shush her quickly, though she flattens her ears back at you. Letting out a shaky breath, you crawl off of your bed as silently as you can manage, and reach for the hammer and paring knife in your bag.

Indie follows you as you venture into the hallway, and you perch behind the bars of your stairs as the hushed conversation down below becomes clearer.

“Just find whatever food you can and let’s go.” A deep male voice cuts through the silence.

“We need to check the car! There’s nothing here.” A stranger male voice answers, and giggles. “We should find the girl instead.”

You tense, and grip the hammer a little tighter.

“I don’t care about her. I just want her stuff.” The deep voice asserts, and you wonder what you should do next. Storm downstairs and hammer them to death? You’ve never fought anybody before, let alone killed someone. Your hands are becoming clammy, and you don’t notice the pregnant pause in the conversation downstairs.

It isn’t until you see a head of brown hair come into view that you’re snapped from your thoughts. Indie can’t help herself-- she barks, and bolts down the stairs before you can stop her. The two boys yell in surprise, and you watch as she tackles the tall one with brown hair. Meanwhile, the other one comes into view-- he has large, droopy eyes with spiked red hair, and he looks excited when he catches sight of you.

“There she is!” He coos, and begins to walk upstairs. You gasp, and you know in this split second that your home is no longer yours-- you need to get away. In one fluid motion, you run into your room to grab your single bag of groceries. It’s heavy, but you don’t notice as adrenaline rushes through your veins.

When you turn to run down the stairs, the red-head catches you by both of your upper arms. He licks his chapped lips, and your knee jerks out to hit his groin. He yelps and doubles over, and you fly down the stairs.

“Indie!” You whistle, and she actually bounds from the living room over the couch, to skid by your side. You swipe the car keys off the counter, rip the sliding glass door open, and use the fob to unlock the car. You open the passenger for Indie, she leaps in as you toss the bag and your hammer and knife in behind her, you slam the door closed, and hop over the hood of the car.

As you turn to open the driver’s side door, you watch as the red-head runs in slow motion from your stairs to the exit to your backyard. You don’t breathe or shake as you turn the ignition, throw the car in reverse, then drive, and plow through your flimsy backyard gate as you push your little soccer van to its limits.

Tires skid as you swerve onto the street, and you press down so hard on the gas, that a few minutes later, you don’t register that you’re going 90 miles an hour in the suburbs. Houses pass you at incredible speed, and you ease up on the pedal when Indie licks your cheek. You stare straight ahead, and subconsciously, you drive towards your high school. Those three boys were nice to you-- they warned you, and you didn’t listen. They even tried to help you and include you, and you flat out denied them.

You slam on the brakes as you turn into Karasuno High’s parking lot. It’s only now that you realize that you didn’t fasten your seat belt, and you shut off the car with a shaky breath. The front of the school looms over you, and you wonder for a moment if they’re even here-- was it all a joke? What if they turn you away because you were such a bitch earlier? No matter how many scenarios you run through your head, you come to the same conclusion every time: you can’t go back home, and you’re already here, so you may as well investigate. You grab your hammer and get out of the car, and Indie follows behind. You close and lock the doors, pocketing the keys, and turn towards the school you’ve known for three and a half years.

The front gates are locked, of course. You wander the perimeter of the school, Indie trotting beside you the whole way. The school looks different in the dark-- it feels different, too. It’s like you’re walking in a dream, or some sort of in-between space. You shouldn’t be awake, and you definitely shouldn’t be here, but you are. It’s strange. Everything is bathed in moonlight, so it’s all a very specific shade of blue that makes you feel like you’re underwater.

You come upon the gym in the back of the school, and you’re startled to hear voices coming from inside. You tip-toe up to the doors, and Indie sniffs curiously.

“If your leg gets cut off, would it hurt?”

“Please just go to sleep.”

“Duh!” A third voice chimes in, and the second voice groans.

“How, though?” The first voice presses.

“‘Cause your leg got cut off, dumbass.” Third voice answers.

“Where’re you gonna feel the pain?”

“In your leg…” The third voice trails off.

“Exactly, man. How’re you gonna feel the pain in your leg if--”

“--if your leg is gone?!” The first and third voice finish together, and you hear the second person groan.

“I’m going outside.” He says, and as his voice gets louder, you stumble away from the door just as it opens.

You blink rapidly and your jaw drops-- Akaashi stands in front of you, brows furrowed and eyes wide. You can’t believe they’re actually here.

“Akaashi?” Someone calls from inside. Akaashi opens his mouth to respond, but glances at Indie when she sniffs his hand curiously. He pets her absent-mindedly as his gaze wanders back to yours.

Bokuto and Kuroo pop up behind him a second later, and they’re just as surprised as Akaashi. Indie sniffs them in turn, and her tail begins to wag.

You drop your hammer with a thud, and sniffle like a toddler before letting out a sob you didn’t know you’d been holding.

“C-can I stay with you?”

#haikyuu fanfiction #hq fanfiction #haikyu fanfiction #akaashi x reader #kuroo x reader #iwaizumi x reader #oikawa x reader #bokuto x reader #reader insert #haikyuu x reader #slow burn

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