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seyenna · 4 years

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Philza and/or Techno and/or Ranboo fic recs

just some of my fav dsmp fics, mainly phil, techno or ranboo bc i’m biased but also a bunch of sbi and others

this one goes out mainly to zablr discord my beloved

pls tell me if the links don’t work

all of these are on ao3

rating\status(complete/ongoing)\warnings\word count\misc tags

ichor flows free amongst the iron by summer_rising

T\o\violence\13k\series\gods AU

Summary:

A gods and goddesses AU of the Dream SMP, dramatized for all our benefits.

First work:

"Two gods meeting on a mountaintop overlooking the stormy sea? Very classy, Dream, I appreciate your taste."

Dream didn't turn to look at him, but the faint shake of his shoulders let Techno know he had heard.

"Scar's healing up nicely, I see," Techno mumbled with a light nod of his head.

"Mhm. Cut nice and clean. Not that I expected any less from you, of course."

The god of power and the god of luck meet on a mountaintop to discuss Luck's standing in the ongoing political disaster.

We're Only Young by ImperialKatwala

G\o\-\66k\series\Dream & Technoblade

It's easy to forget amid the chaos and bloodshed how similar - and how young - Dream and Technoblade really are.

And when the sun comes up, you'll find a brand new god. by SkyboxZoo

M\o\violence\19k\gods AU

Summary:

The wounds from the fight had healed nigh instantly, but the golden blood still soaked Techno’s shirt. His cloak had gotten torn off and his hair had fallen out of its pony-tail. Ichor pooled in his boots. The man left a trail of golden, bloody footprints in his wake.

old gods (new gods) by WriterWinged

T\o\-\9k\series\gods AU

Summary of first work:

Survival, Blood, Madness. Philza, Technoblade, Wilbur Soot. Three gods who have never cared for mortal life, who play with them when they want to, who kill their toys just as easily. How, then, did a mortal end up in their hands?

This House Is A Fucking Nightmare by SilverWing15

T\c\-\17k\series\sbi

Summary:

AU Where Phil isn't quite as willing to stand by while his sons drop like flies

Summary of third part (my fav):

Does lingering too long in the shadow of a god make you a god? The voices in his head seem to think so.

His brothers know he's older than them but they don't know how much

OR: Technoblade doesn't think his brothers realize how different they are from ordinary men. After all, ordinary men may fight the gods, but they don't win.

It's been a long day. by BecausePlot

G\c\-\3k\Philza & Ranboo

Summary:

Sides are bad: he knows that much. He’s seen it tear people apart time and time again, so when he decided to separate himself from Tubbo and keep his distance, he knew he was in the right.

Well. He thought he was in the right, at the time. Sitting all by himself on the steps to the Prime Path, he’s not so sure anymore.

Yes, the sides might have torn the others apart, might have made them so weak that they have no choice but to fold under Dream’s hand, but at least they aren’t lonely.

So are sides bad?

‘I don’t know.’

~*~

Or, Ranboo looks out at the ruins of L'Manburg, feeling more lost and lonely than he ever has.

But, as he soon finds, he's not as alone as he thinks.

the voices in my head, they say a lot of things by rosyasteria

-\c\violence\1k\Technoblade-centric

Summary:

Some days the voices didn’t listen. They didn’t let up. They screamed instead of whispered, relentless, assaulting his ears until they bled.

tell them i was the warmest place you knew and you turned me cold by rosyasteria

-\c\-\2k\Techonblade-centric

Summary:

Technoblade cared. But in the end it just fucked him over.

For the majority of his life, Techno felt like less of a companion, less of a family member, and more like a weapon to be wielded. 'The Blade' they called him; never 'friend'.

It Leaves Little Time for Anything Else by mirandible

M\c\-\1k\part of series\Dream & Technoblade

Summary:

A young man aims for the top, but fate has other plans for him. So does Technoblade, apparently.

(Or: answering the question of “Why does Techno hide his scars if they’re supposed to be some sort of trophy? Why keep your point of pride a secret?”)

the best requiem is a bar of silence (and I'll sing it, even if I must hold back my tears) by jello12451

T\o\-\10k\Philza & Technoblade

Summary:

He can’t help the noise of celebration that escapes him. Techno- this means that Techno’s free, and he got his horse back, and everything is alright-

Tubbo, filled with rage at Phil’s cheers, turns and impulsively shoots an arrow.

He doesn’t expect to hit his target.

---

Alternatively: What if Phil didn't have a bucket of water when Tubbo shot him?

Change fate by being aggressively kind by sircantus

T\o\-\13k\sbi, Philza-centric

Summary:

“You do understand that you’re caring for the thing meant to bring destruction and chaos to our world, right?” The woman asks, Phil looking behind him fondly as Techno grabs at the ends of his wings.

“He’s just a child.” Phil answers distractedly, humming as his wings get gently yanked at.

“He’s the first of three to destroy life as we know it! Shouldn’t we, well, get rid of him?!”

“Oh, no.” Phil raises his eyes with a sharp glare. “Believe me, I have my own way of preventing the apocalypse.”

---

Or, Techno, Wilbur, and Tommy are basically chaotic forces of nature, destined from birth to end the world and bring destruction. Most who hear of the tale of them are trying their best to track them down, and to end the monsters while they’re still young, still just children.

Phil has a different plan.

(In which Phil raises the minecraft equivalents of the anti-christ with love and support, so much so to the point where the world ending is really just a funny thought, and Phil has three kids who casually have powers that are bit more extreme than anything else in the world)

I promised you that everything would be fine by findingkairos

G\c\-\6k\Technoblade-centric

Summary:

manifestation: (n.)

1. an event, action, or object that clearly shows or embodies something abstract or theoretical;

2. a version or incarnation of something or someone;

3. an appearance of a ghost or spirit;

4. the Blood God.

When he's young and still alone, still establishing his reputation as the immortal warrior, Technoblade makes up an imaginary friend.

Years later, the blood god is very real and very much a god: one that is prepared to do anything for their first and only friend.

the inner mechanism of a black box by Bee_4

T\c\violence, self-harm\Technoblade-centric

Summary:

Technoblade lets himself get imprisoned for Philza’s sake. He doesn’t plan on being there long. Unfortunately, he’s underestimated Pandora’s Vault.

There are things that will make even the Blade fall apart in due time, as it turns out.

carry all my sins by BananasofThorns

T\c\-\4k\Ranboo-centric

Summary:

Ranboo swallows. “All my armor and weapons and stuff are missing. Fundy and I were gonna go looking for them after the festival, I think.”

“I see.” Tubbo smiles again, but this time it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Well, I’m sure it’ll be fine, it’s just a festival. We could probably find someone to lend you a sword or an axe or something.”

He starts towards the stage, waving at people when they call his name, and Ranboo follows. The original panic has dulled to a cold buzz in his chest, but apprehension still wraps itself around his body like chains. He doesn’t like being without his armor and tools; he feels too exposed, and if something happens, he’ll be helpless.

“Ranboo?” Tubbo calls, glancing back.

Ranboo shakes his head and hurries to catch up. “Yeah, it’ll be fine,” he repeats. “Everything’s gonna be fine."

Tubbo grins. “That’s the spirit.”

Rule 5: be loyal. L'manberg doesn't do well with supposed traitors. Ranboo deals with the consequences.

Sojourn by Lacy_Star

T\o\-\13k\Ranboo & Technoblade & Philza

Summary:

“Well…” Ranboo started slowly, “You see, uh… I kinda… don’t have a house anymore, obviously. Um… Phil found me in—“ He paused, cutting himself off and squinting at the floorboards— very discreet, “Phil… found me. And… um… He said I could stay by you guys. Like, um, by the dog house he wants to build?” He paused, then began to ramble, “But, uh, if you don’t want me here, I understand— and I’m sorry for coming in your house when you weren’t here, I swear I didn’t touch anything— it was just cold outside and—“

Techno just stared at him. And how, how was this the second time this had happened to him? How was this the second time he returned home after battle to discover an injured teenage boy waiting for him, seeking assistance with nowhere to go? And how badly had that ended last time, in nothing but betrayal and insults?

---

AKA: Phil drags a half-enderman home after Doomsday, and Techno decides that they can keep it. For now.

can an axe count as rent? by aboutfivebees

T\c\-\4k\Ranboo & Technoblade & Philza

Summary:

Ranboo’s struggling to settle into his new life on the Arctic Anarchist Commune, but at least he’s got bread.

or the struggles of an enderman hybrid to come up with a housewarming gift to give to his friends, who are just trying to adopt him

The Caged Bird Sings of Freedom by StarPrince_Punk

T\o\-\25k\Ranboo & Technoblade & Philza

Summary:

The Blade's stance was still tense, his body prepared to fight at a moment’s notice if need be. “What’s your name?” Phil asked “My… name?” The Blade asked. “Yeah. Your name isn’t actually The Blade, right? That’s like a stage name?” Phil tried to keep his tone light. “What’s your real name?” The Blade hesitated. “No one… No one’s called me by my name in a long time.” ------- When Phil comes across Ranboo in his panic room after L'Manberg's destruction, it reminds him of when he first met Technoblade. And just like when he met Techno, Phil's first instinct is that he has to help this kid. While living together, Techno and Ranboo learn that they're much more similar than they had previously thought, and Phil learns that it's not too late for him to be a better dad.

This already feels like more of a home by H3118ENDER

T\o\violence, death\18k\Ranboo & Technoblade & Philza

Summary:

As the ashes of L'Manberg settle the conflict continues to come to life setting the stage for a new wave of blood shed. Stuck slam in the middle of past and present friends Ranboo is coming to learn that even without nations to their names feelings and feuds don't die but people, people do.

A Shadow of a Shadow by unappetizingegg

T\c\-\4k\ Ranboo & Technoblade & Philza

Summary:

There were a few beats of silence, and then- “What are your plans, now? Do you need a place to stay?”

That caught him off guard. Surely he’d heard incorrectly. Phil was offering him a home, right after he’d orchestrated the destruction of his past one? It didn’t make any sense, none of it did. Why would Phil say that?

Then he remembered, he remembered Techno stopping him in the fight. He remembered being handed his book, the question in Techno’s gaze. He swore, in that moment, Technoblade, the Technoblade, had been worried about him. He remembered that he had been told to leave, to run, to get away and preserve himself. He had spared him, he remembered that Techno had spared him.

Techno had helped him. Phil had tried to protect him, to get him away from the danger.

They were there for him.

---

alternatively:

Ranboo is alone. But he really isn't.

Meritocracy by oddsbodkins

G\o\-\18k\Dream & Technoblade, sbi, medieval AU

Summary:

Dream is more successful than he'd ever imagined - but there's one thing that's been bothering him. Technoblade, his biggest rival, the Acolyte of the Blood God and King of the Arena, went missing last spring, just before Dream got the chance to duel him. Without that one achievement to pave his way, all the following victories have felt cheap.

So, Dream hired some goons to dig Technoblade up and pester him into coming back to the Capitol, for one last showdown. Easy enough, right?

Interlude I: "Promises to Keep" by Ozzyyy

T\c\-\1k\part of a series\Technoblade & Philza

Summary:

These woods are lovely, dark, and deep But I have promises to keep

And miles to go before I sleep And miles to go before I sleep.

Techno has a plan. It's crazy. It's insane, it's actually just batshit bonkers. But if chaos cannot be enjoyed together, then what's it worth, yeah? There's a certain beauty in watching the world burn from the center of the flames. Phil intends to be there.

I Don't Want To Start A Fight (wouldn't you rather start a riot?) by KryOnBlock

T\c\violence, death\15k\Technoblade & Philza & Ranboo

Summary:

An universal ping rang out from behind him, the third and final he knew, and Phil sobbed, clutching the body tighter.

Techno didn’t move.

It always has been Technoblade and Philza, Philza and Technoblade. Take on half, and you shall never go back.

Sheltered by Lulatic

G\c\-\6k\Ranboo & Technoblade

Summary:

It was cold outside. But Techno never heard Ranboo complain.

That was the best excuse he could muster to keep him out.

Antarctic Princes 'verse by BirchWrites

T\o\-\15k\series\sbi

Summary:

Loosely-connected one shots set in an AU where the Antarctic Empire and the Dream SMP are in the same world. Ordered chronologically, but each fic can be read as a standalone thing

Summary of first part:

Oh shit. Forget arrested; Dream’s going to have to tell Wilbur that he watched Tommy get stabbed for being terminally stupid.

May we cross paths again by QueenLunaFreed

G\c\-\1k\Dream & Technoblade

Summary:

“Even if tomorrow it’s just us versus the entire server, Dream, I’m telling you right now - I have confidence.”

---

Dream couldn’t comprehend the pacing contradiction in front of him, the weakness he could clearly see, but would never comment on. Because this man has been defying Dream's expectations since they first met, because despite them not being friends and having no reason to trust each other, Dream knew that Technoblade is the only person who he’d trust to do this right. To destroy L'Manberg alongside him yet again, this time for real.

leave me your starlight by findingkairos

T\o\-\18k\Technoblade & Philza

Summary:

For you the world, Phil.

Once upon a time, Philza Minecraft is the only person who does not shy away from the bloody teen that regularly turns the tide of war.

This cements a friendship that will last wars, empires, worlds, and lifetimes.

---

(Featuring: Back to Back Badasses, healthy relationships, accidental deification, intentional world domination, and Phil's past coming back to haunt his best friend.)

#fanfic #dsmp #technoblade #philza #ranboo #zablr #fic recs

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mangosimoothie · 2 years

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ik u said to ignore it but i cant ignore it because im a natural snoop and i fucking love reading tags. its where people show their colors and i think everyone has a rainbow inside them. which prompts me to say that u dont have to answer this. hell, u can ignore this.

anyway, maybe its coz im using tumblr wrong. i literally only come here to grab some *feels* (good and bad) at the popular reblogs and then occasionally join in the simblr "oooh" and "gaaah!!" eras that i feel like im missing out on what u call the Back in the Day tumblr era. tumblr was advertised to me as a blogging site so like lmfao.

maybe its also because of the power of the anon feature that i can actually make myself be able to enter ur ask box without feeling too shy or scared that im here to comment on ur post. is it because we're far too scared to interact beyond the comments or is it because drama (not sure if theres a better word for it, controversy maybe?) has scarred us and being able to comment on things without the anon feature kind of scares us all now?

regarding simblr drama posts that blow up, u could probably also contribute it to bandwagon, right? like obv, its not the only reason it blows up but bandwagon helps. its far too easy to join in the opinion that everyone agrees on and parrot it around. like idk if im making sense but isnt it kinda easier to "not have an opinion" but rb that other person's opinion/fact that the rest of the community has deemed correct or right as if its your own (ok maybe this sentence sounds bad and i could probably phrase it as "i have an opinion about it but this other person has worded it so perfectly that i will rb this instead". anyway i'll leave it in coz the previous one could be true to some people). not that its bad, im honestly glad most of us agree on smth, it just sometimes loses that sense of discussion u probably meant if we're all just parroting everything.

i mean, i've seen it happen. especially during certain major events here where my dash was full of the same post being reblogged by myself and a couple others with no additional ideas (even tags sometimes, like i said i love tags i think tags hold a lot of unspoken but spoken ideas if u get it).

i had a point here somewhere. anyway what i meant to say was, i think i have similar feelings with u regarding discussions (lmfao look at this long post). but im far too scared to get out of anon to actually have it with u or anyone else in simblr.

have a good day/night tho :"D

Hahah no thank you for snooping on my tags 😅 what I meant to say is, I notice that most engagement happens through likes instead of comments, which is just really frustrating because yeah, I am used to tumblr being more of a forum so likes feel very empty to me. Unless it’s “”drama”” then yeah like you said, people are more inclined to comment. Like my first post that blew up was literally just “not someone charging $3 for sims nipples” or st like that which was really funny but also a little sad bc I would’ve loved to engage like that on posts I actually cared about and that weren’t just me being cheeky lol. That said, I understand what you mean about feeling too shy. I asked about this earlier - why ask questions on anon if they’re not mean - and for most people yeah, it boiled down to being shy or not wanting to seem over eager. But I LOVE when people are eager about my nonsense, I LOVE when people ramble like this in tags or comments or my inbox about my story/sims. That is the sole thing that’s kept me active here tbh - the couple people who comment and send me asks instead of just throwing a like here and there. I’ve been told many times that engagement on simblr is a lot lower than it used to be which is a little discouraging. I’ll look at my friends with large blogs and even though their stories get 100s of likes there’s still only 2-5 comments! I’d be pulling my hair out!! Maybe it’s a pet peeve that’s kinda specific to me lol but it does bother me sometimes especially when I put a q like hey tell me what you thought about x or whatever the case may be. Like even going so far as to be like “instead of a like tell me about x :) “ and that still not working. I guess that’s just not the way people engage on tumblr anymore :/ 🤷🏾‍♀️

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buckyskorpion · 4 years

Text

11 hours - part seven

Pairing: Biker!Bucky x Reader

Summary: bucky is the mystery you can’t wait to solve. if you can get out of his bed long enough, that is. a biker au.

Warnings: gang-typical violence, sex scenes, alcohol mentions, probably more to come so stay tuned

A/N: hello i apologise in advance. pls dont hurt me!!! i would appreciate your feedback and your theories about where this fic is going! i hope this part isn’t too..... upsetting lmao. i wont be taking tags for this so please dont ask.

title taken from 11 hours by wet | playlist | please donate to my ko-fi!

masterlist

You believed, until now, that you walked the world seeking out dark corners and underbellies other people didn’t want to touch. That’s your job. The current case you're supposed to be working on involves a man suspected of drugging his girlfriend to take nonconsensual nudes of her and sell them to his friends while she slept. You’re well aware the world is a dangerous place.

But things look different now, in a way you never could have imagined before the Lerna. Those men were dead before you could blink, and you know life is expendable and fragile and so easy to take but it’s another thing to see it taken before your eyes. It’s another thing to take it yourself. And you know, now, why Bucky would only show you parts of his life and himself because this whole truth feels like staring directly into the sun - painfully bright, to the point where it’s all you can see and all the good things are reduced to a spotty, hazy blur.

You’re sitting in your office, at your desk where you’re trying to work but you can’t get the sound of bullet casings hitting the floor and the thunk of a knife in skin out of your head. There, in the centre of your tiny office, was where you sat on Bucky’s lap and kissed him and demanded ‘no secrets.’ Too stubborn to know he was keeping them for a reason, that maybe there are things you don't want to know after all. But you can feel his skin under your fingertips and the brush of his stubble as he kissed you, a memory you can touch, and you can’t help but think it still feels worth it. At the end of it all, if it was a choice of the Lerna happening or never having Bucky at all, you know what you’d chose.

As if he can hear you, your phone buzzes with a text from him. Joey’s at 7?

It’s already 6:30. You’re grabbing your keys and leaving the fear on your desk chair as you text him back. Sounds perfect.

It really is. Joey’s is your favourite bar, and just seeing the grimy neon sign outside makes your heart feel less heavy. This, after everything, remains the same. You still feel giddy jogging down the stairs, ready for the heady bass music to push through your chest and a whiskey apple to numb the wounds. It feels like the beginning, half-nervous half-excited to go find Bucky tucked in a booth at the back, dim purple light chiseling out his cheekbones and catching bright on his sharp smile. Back then it was innocent, if a fuck buddy hook-up could be. Now that you know you would do things for Bucky you’d never do for anyone else, that you don’t think you’ll ever be able to remove his brand from your heart- well. You skip a couple more steps as you head down into Joey’s, only a few minutes late.

You don’t slow down as you enter the bar, weaving through patrons searching for a familiar face. Now that you’re here to the urge to see him, to have him in your arms, is almost unbearable. When you do find Bucky, spinning a glass between his fingers in a nervous habit you’ve noticed he has, he feels your eyes on him immediately. He stands and you crash into him, burying your hands under his leather jacket to feel the warmth of his body against your palms. Bucky hugs you back just as harshly, the force of his embrace lifting your toes off the ground. When he pulls away his runs a hand over your head, down your hair, coming to rest by the side of your neck as if to check your pulse and make sure you’re really there.

“You ok?” he asks, bright blue eyes now dark and hooded as he stares down at you.

You nod, unwilling to let go of your grip on the back of his t-shirt even as he pulls away, and say, “Am now.”

“Need to talk to you, it’s important,” Bucky says. He escapes your grip with ease, because he’s huge and strong and it’s easy to forget that when he softens for you. He sits at the booth and you slide in across him, watching as he downs the rest of the straight whiskey in his glass like its water. That bad feeling is back, like back at Steve’s tattoo shop, but you don’t want it here. You fumble for Bucky’s hand across the table, and he lets you hold it but it doesn’t stop the dread settling heavy in your gut. You squeeze his fingers tighter, just in case.

“Is everything alright?” you ask. “Are we- did the cops find out-“

“No, no,” Bucky says, shaking his head down at the table. His gaze catches on your intwined fingers, the glint of his signet rings in the dim bar light, and says, “The cops aren’t the problem.”

“But there is a problem,” you say, and now Bucky raises his eyes to look at you.

“I need to tell you something, it’s important” Bucky says, again, and the dread rises from your stomach like bile to your throat. “You have to understand this, so you can see that I’m not- that this isn’t just-“

“Bucky.” He lets out a ragged breath as you cut him off mid ramble, scrubs a hand through his hair. You hate the way your voice wobbles when you say, “You’re scaring me.”

You almost make yourself laugh as those words leave your mouth. This scares you? Bucky, frustrated and nervous and clinging to your hand like a lifeline, but when he walked over lifeless bodies he sunk bullets into with a giant rifle on his back - that was just fine.

“You know when we were at Steve’s, and we were talking about Hydra? About Rumlow? Do you remember that?” Bucky asks. He stares at you like he’s imploring you to say it for him, whatever it is he’s struggling to say, but you don’t understand.

You nod slowly and say, “Natasha said Rumlow had it out for you. You said Hydra is your biggest rival.”

“Yes, right,” Bucky says, nodding a bit manically. He’s still gripping your hand tight. “Rumlow hated me, and as far as we can tell - or Nat, I guess, she’s been looking into it - he was acting on his own, to get to me.”

“That’s good, right?” You don’t feel sure, with the way Bucky is acting and looking at you all glassy-eyed. “No big gang war, or whatever.”

“I need you to understand why Rumlow hated me, because it’s not just- it wasn’t just about him, ok?” Bucky says, and now he’s looking around the room like that night in your office. Casing the bar, looking for exits. “He’s dead, but none of this died with him.”

“What is ‘this’?” you ask, and wonder for the first time, do I want to find out?

“The first time I met Rumlow was in the hospital, a couple of days after I got back from Afghanistan,” Bucky says. “I’d been honourably discharged, my arm was all fucked up and fried from a chem bomb and I lost all sensation in it so they sent me home. I remember I was lying in the bed looking out the window, and it was snowing. I hadn’t been anywhere but a desert in so long and I was like, what do I do know? I don’t own a coat anymore. I’m a black ops sniper, that’s not exactly a transferrable skill - can’t even put it on a resume because it’s classified. My arm’s fried and ugly lookin’. I’m fucked.”

“You must’ve been so scared,” you say. Bucky meets your eyes, and you can see it haunting him in the back of them - so much heat and fire and pain left behind, so much cold and unknown and pain lying in front. Your dad has told you a similar story, when he came back from Iraq, and he had the same look in his eyes Bucky does right now.

“I was,” he says, and you squeeze his fingers. He looks towards your hands again and says, “I was, and they knew it.”

“Hydra,” you say, and you know you’re right. Bucky nods anyway.

“Rumlow came into my hospital room and told me, Hydra helps guys like me. They helped him and look - he’s got a job and money and friends and a team again. A purpose. But I said no. I’m black ops, I know shady guys when I seem ‘em and Rumlow reeked of it. Just, Hydra doesn’t like being told no.”

“They target vulnerable, traumatised vets in hospitals?” you ask, disgusted. You can taste the hate that boils up, and that ugly, angry part picturing Bucky lying in a bed so alone and afraid and imagining someone like Rumlow trying to take advantage of him like that - that ugly part says I’m glad he’s dead.

“They’re highly trained and easily moulded,” Bucky says in way of answer, and you shudder at the thought. “But seem Rumlow failed and it was my fault. He failed over and over again every time they sent him to recruit me. So he hated me, and then I started the Commandos with Steve and Sam and Nat to target them. The only way to save the next poor bastard like me from ending up with Hydra is to end them, except there ain't a cop in the city who can touch them.”

“But you can,” you say, and you know it’s stupid but your heart has never been known as terribly smart, so you add, “Bucky, that’s dangerous.”

He smiles, small but it’s there, and he rubs his thumb over your knuckles as he says, “I know, doll. I don’t know if you know this about me, but stupid’s kinda my thing.”

“Very funny,” you say, rolling your eyes at Bucky’s cheeky grin now splitting his face. As quick as it came, though, his smile dies and so does the small spark of hope that maybe this story has a happy ending.

“I’ve made Hydra my enemy and I can’t change that. I don’t want to,” Bucky says, nodding solemnly at his own words and you watch him physically turn cold, stony and distant in the space of a second. “But that means that as long as Hydra is around, they’re going to be coming after me. First Rumlow, but it won’t stop there. They’ll come and keep coming and what if, one time, I don’t get there in time? Or you don’t get to leave your phone on, or even make it to a location before they shoot you in the back of the car?”

“No,” you say. You’re not stupid, you know where this is going and just- no. Bucky is being deliberately harsh, speaking loud and unfiltered to try and make it easier to do what he’s about to do but you won’t let him. That dread turned bile has now turned into straight, acidic fire pumping through veins and it hurts.

Bucky smiles faint and sad, says, “You said it yourself - it’s dangerous no matter what.”

“That's not what I meant,” you say, shaking your head vehemently, wildly, as if you can physically shake Bucky of this stupid idea and the actual pain you’re in just entertaining this conversation. “You know that’s not what I meant, what are- you asked me to stay, Bucky. You asked me, and now you want-“

“I know, I know,” Bucky says, tugging your hand close to him now but it’s your turn to try and pull away, albeit unsuccessfully. “I know and I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, but you almost died. Do you understand that? They would have killed you, and the only reason is me.”

“That’s such bullshit,” you say, trying and failing to pull your hand free of his grip but he isn’t letting go now and the death-grip he has on you, tethering you to him even as he pushes you away, makes your eyes sting with ugly tears.

“It’s not,” Bucky says, so sad, and you just want to kiss that guilt away for him even still, even as your heart is breaking under his fist. “You will always be in danger until the day comes where I can’t protect you, and I won’t do that to you. I can’t, I can’t be the reason you get hurt.”

“You can’t protect me if you’re not around,” you say, so soft you can barely be heard over Joey’s house music but honestly, you might as well be completely alone for how little you care about the bar around you.

“The safest place for you is away from me,” Bucky says, and that makes you laugh. Humourless, fucking painfully, but you laugh and Bucky glares so dark you’re reminded of the look in his eyes when he stared down at Rumlow’s body bleeding out on the ground. Through gritted teeth he says, “You think I would do this if there was any other way?”

“There is another way,” you say, glaring right back. “There’s not being a coward about it, Bucky. You lead a dangerous life, I get it. Believe me, I fucking get it, and I chose to stay. Ok? I wanna be here anyway, so why does my choice not matter to you? Is this some stupid excuse to get rid of me?”

“Don’t say that,” Bucky all but growls, and you should be scared. He’s scary, Bucky is dangerous by his own admission but you refuse to be afraid of him. Even when he’s trying to force you to be, holding your hand too tight and dragging you around the booth so he can pin you to the seat and you both know the only way you can move is if he lets you. As if he thinks he can scare you away from him, if he can’t reason you to go.

“I don’t care how dangerous it is,” you say into his seething face, inches from yours, teeth bared in a truly terrifying snarl as he pins you to the leather in a show of strength that will leave bruises tomorrow. “I don’t wanna be away from you.”

For half a moment, you really think Bucky is going to hit you. He moves so fast, and you’ve never seen his face look like that - hurt and angry and upset and half-insane all at once. But he just presses his forehead to yours, closes his eyes and breathes you in, and for another half a moment you get to think, maybe he’ll change his mind.

“You’re all I want,” Bucky breathes, so soft and quiet you almost don’t hear him if it wasn’t said almost directly into your skin. “But that’s selfish.”

“I don’t care,” you say, like a mantra now, or a prayer. Just hoping he’ll hear you, “I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care.”

“You should,” Bucky says, and pulls away from you just as fast as he came in. “I won’t be the reason you end up dead.”

Bucky sits before you like a solid brick wall - unbreakable, immovable, cold and blank. His eyes are shuttered from you and you know there’s no way to get to him now. There’s nothing else you can say. If you aren’t enough for him to push past his fear and love you anyway, nothing you say is going to change his mind. Just because you know it’s true doesn’t mean it hurts any less, though, as you sit there boxed in by this menacing stranger looking at you in a way you never want to be looked at again. Like he already doesn’t know you. Like you’ve already been forgotten.

“This was always gonna happen, wasn’t it?” you ask, more to yourself than to Bucky. You laugh at his silence, the flat set of his mouth and clenched fists on his thighs. Maybe if you never went to that first party at Natasha’s house and remained at arms length, sneaking out his window and never staying the night, then maybe you could’ve had him just a little bit longer. But you didn’t, and now you’re hurt in a way you’ve never been before. Your dad never prepared you to survive a pain like this.

You slide out the other side of the booth, tripping slightly as you climb to unsteady feet. It’s hard to see through unshed tears but you don’t bother looking back at Bucky still sat in the booth. You weave through people just as fast as when you came in, but for the opposite reason now - you can’t leave behind this dim-lit bar painted with the gorey tatters of your heart fast enough.

When you emerge onto the street you know Bucky has followed you, his hulking presence palpable behind you as you stand on the sidewalk and try and calm your rapid heartbeat. You’re surprised its still beating with how much it hurts, especially when Bucky places a hand on your shoulder and cracks your heart neatly in two. He says, softly under New York traffic, “Let me drive you home. Please.”

Instead of asking why, why does he care, why does he want to, if the safest place is away from you then leave me alone, what you say is a mildly whiny, “You don’t know where I live.”

“I’ll put the address in my phone,” Bucky says, calm and low as if to placate you but you’re well past that point now. You’re crying openly on the street like a lunatic as Bucky gently takes your hand and leads you towards his bike, manhandles you onto it, clicks a helmet on over your head. It feels cruel for him to be this soft after so ruthlessly tearing you apart, but you suppose it’s better than being left alone in the street like he never cared at all.

When you pull up to your apartment building Bucky kills the engine and leans in close to you before you have a chance to jump off and run away. You think, surely he’s not about to kiss me right now and you really hate the part of you that hopes he does, but he doesn’t. He just leans in close and whispers into your helmet, “They could be watching your place, after what happened. I’m so sorry.”

You close your eyes. Bucky’s right, this will never stop, but that doesn’t mean you want to face it alone. Your whole life has been carved out for you only, but just once you thought maybe you could live it with someone else. That’s not a life for you to have, it seems, so you take a deep breath through snotty tears and nod, say, “I can handle it,” because you know you can. You’ll have to.

“I think-“ Bucky starts but falters, bites his lip blanched white before continuing, “They might leave you alone if you make it clear I’m not in your life anymore.”

“You can’t ask me to do that,” you say, and all the resolve you just gathered is shattered as instantly as you found it. You’re crying again because fuck, nothing has ever hurt like this has, from the inside where you can’t find it or heal it or stop it so it just sucks the life out of you one painful second at a time.

“You have to, honey,” Bucky says, and you want to punch him for it. The way he talks to you like he loves you, like he cares, but he can’t if he’s making you do this. Break your own heart to save his. “Scream at me, send me away. They won’t need to target you then.”

“You’re cruel,” you say, pulling away from him. You don’t want to touch him anymore, can’t stand to be this close so you trip off the bike and stumble down the street. Bucky stares after you, his own eyes teary and face screwed up in genuine pain. It could never compare to the sick feelings in your stomach as you take a deep breath and scream, “Go away, Bucky. Fucking leave me alone and never come back or I’ll fucking kill you, you hear me? Fuck off, and don’t come back.”

You can’t help the sob that rips from you, threatening to buckle your knees and break you right on the sidewalk. Bucky is looking at you like you’ve just stuck a knife in his chest but he asked you to, he keeps asking and taking and it’s always you that ends up hurt. You leave him on the street, stumble up the stairs to your apartment and sink to the floor as soon as the door clicks shut behind you. It’s dark in your apartment, nothing but streetlights outside casting shadows on furniture he never touched, but it still feels like he’s haunting you just the same.

Bucky’s bike revs to life and he tears away, the sound ripping straight through and down the street. It leaves you hollowed out, a burnt-through husk curled up on your hardwood floor. You know you’ll never hear that sound again.

****

For your entire life it’s always been you against the world. The only person you could ever trust is yourself, the only one who’s going to look out for you is you and you can’t remember a time where you didn’t think this way. Maybe it’s nature, maybe it’s nurture, but it’s how you’ve always seen the world.

However, you’re only now starting to feel what being truly alone is actually like.

Bucky’s contact lies open on your phone, but you don’t press call. You won’t. He pushed you away for your own ‘safety,’ for his own fear, and you’ll have to learn to live with his choice. Even though you still love him and always will, you can’t have him and you’ll just have to be ok with that. So you leave this contact photo up on your phone, resting on your coffee table beside your open laptop. You’ve got the input feed of the bug you planted in your dad’s kitchen open, chunky headphones on, scrolling through the audio from the past few days since you’d last seen him.

Your heart is broken by the first man you’ve ever let into your life and the only other person who knows you and who you trust, you’re currently spying on. Now, for the first time, you truly have no one left.

Focusing on work has always been an escape for you, and even when your life is in pieces around you and your heart looks no different, work still pulls through. Even if that work is your own father and the inane conversations he has with himself about the baseball teams on TV, or the calls he makes to his vet friends, or the late-night renditions of ABBA songs you remember well from your childhood. A file lies open on your coffee table with your father’s name on it and pages of notes you’ve made from nearly one hundred hours of audio recordings. You hope beyond hope that you’re just paranoid, and that this time when you go digging you don’t find anything at all.

The only thing you’ve noticed so far is your dad makes a lot of phone calls. They’re long, with a lot of names thrown around you don’t recognise as being his friends or anyone from work he’s mentioned to you before. You write them all down to look up later, but you’ve got to go meet a client so you shut everything down and collect your notes in the file. You hide them, just in case, and grab your leather jacket before you leave. You still have rent to pay. The world goes on around you despite everything being turned upside down, almost as if Bucky never happened at all.

You leave via the back of the building, to come out onto the street closest to the subway station. Usually smokers hang out around there so you aren’t surprised to see two men leaning against the wall, but you are surprised when they star following you down the alley. At this point you’re an old hand at being followed, and the petty part of you brain thinks in Bucky’s direction, see? Doesn’t matter if you’re here or not, dumbass. You sigh to yourself and plan to give them the run around once you clear the alley, but you don’t get a chance to.

From behind you hear a couple of solid thunks, a groan, a muttered curse from one of the men and then one final thunk before silence. You turn around, half afraid of who you’re going to meet once you do and half annoyed because you think you might know who it is. Sure enough, standing there in her leather jacket and a rusted metal pipe from the dumpster in her grip, is Natasha.

She blows a stray strand of hair out of her face and says, “Fancy seeing you here.”

“So he’ll break up with me but will still have me followed,” you say, folding your arms over your chest. Natasha shrugs and you mutter, “Figures.”

“I am always the first to say James is an idiot,” Natasha says, twirling the pipe like a baton in her delicate hands. She grins at you and says, “James is an idiot.”

“I’m aware,” you grit out, glaring at the red-head. “What are you doing here?”

“Making sure you don’t end up as Hydra mince-meat,” Natasha says, “What does it look like?”

“Doing whatever Bucky says even when it’s stupid,” you say. Natasha doesn’t like that, her bright grin dropping into a scowl as she steps up to you. Small, but with a clearly lethal weapon in her hands if the unconscious bodies behind her are anything to go by, she jabs the tip of the pipe into your chest and forces you a step backwards.

“James always has good intentions, even if his logic is sometimes flawed.” She drops the pipe, letting it clang to the floor between you as if to punctuate her saying, “Besides, James didn't tell me to do anything. I volunteered.”

“Why?” you ask, sneering slightly. “I think we both know you don’t trust me, or like me, and you make it very hard to like you.”

Natasha smiles at that, and you hate the face she makes every time you say something she ‘approves’ of - condescending, like she doesn’t expect you to have brain cells and is surprised every time you do. She says, very solemn despite the smile in her eyes, “I owe you.”

That makes you pause. Instantly, like you’re right back in that bar. You can see her groaning body struggling to stand after being thrown into a wall. Rumlow pointing a gun at her back, the blood-thirst emanating off him in waves. Your own hand, as if detached from your body, flinging the knife across the room into his neck before he can put a bullet in Natasha’s.

You swallow thickly, shake your head and say, “No you don’t.”

“I do,” she insists. She steps forward with her hand out, beckoning her fingers like she wants you to hand her something. You just stare at her empty palm for a few seconds before she clicks her tongue and says, “Phone.”

You hand it over without thinking, which was definitely stupid. But Natasha just types away quickly before giving it back and you see you have a new contact with her name attached entered into your phone.

“If you ever need anything,” she says, and taps your phone screen with her nail, “call me.”

It was only minutes ago you were sitting on your couch scrolling through audio from your tapped father’s kitchen thinking you’ve never been more alone in your life. Yet here you are, looking at a helping hand outstretched from the last person you expected it to come from. Your fingers shake slightly as you tuck your phone into your back pocket, and Natasha smiles at you like she understands.

“Thank you,” you say, and you hope she knows you genuinely do mean it.

Natasha nods, then says, “Get out of here, alright? I have to clean this up.”

You suppose that’s Natasha speak for ‘your welcome,’ so you leave her to it. The whole client meeting you can’t focus properly, too busy trying to decide if you feel safer or more afraid at having one of the scariest women you know watching your apartment. By the end of the day, your conclusion is that if Natasha is going to be in your life, its probably best she’s on your side rather than against it.

When you get home that afternoon there is no sign of the two guys Natasha knocked out, nor is she anywhere to be seen. You can’t help but feel watched, though, as you enter your building and climb the stairs. She’s a busy woman and you know she can’t be watching you all the time but you still feel her green eyes on the back of your neck - its not an altogether uncomfortable sensation. That’s something to unpack later, you think, as you collapse on the couch.

You try to resist, but as soon as you sit down and close your eyes the urge to forget about the case you’ve just taken on and look into your own hunches grows too strong. You get up again and fish out your dad’s file again from your hiding place, bringing it back to the couch to flip open. The list of names you’ve been compiling is at the top, scribbled in messy handwriting as you listened to your dad’s one-sided conversations. You tallied up how many times the same name had been mentioned and in what context, however it had been hard to decipher what your dad was talking about with only half the story.

You decide to go looking into the most mentioned name - more of a title, really. Somebody your dad calls Chief shows up in almost every single conversation he has over the phone, and when you were going through the audio it dredged up some strange, suppressed childhood memory. You used to hear him talking to guys downstairs when you were doing your homework, and you always thought he called them ‘chief’ as a nickname or weird, macho term of endearment like how kids in your class would call each other ‘bro’.

Maybe, he was only talking to one guy. You were going to find out.

Starting at your dad’s job, you scroll through their website and LinkedIn profiles to find any link to the name ‘Chief.’ He works as a security guard for a chain of clubs in the city so you are doubtful, and sure enough nothing really comes up to peak your interest. Your dad really only has one other major outlet to look into and that’s the VA, so you have to swallow past the dirty feeling of investigating suffering vets and start scrolling through the website for the Brooklyn VA group attached to the medical centre.

It’s all wholesome stuff and nothing of interest to your snooping at all until you get to a photo gallery from four years ago. It’s dedicated to commemorating the Brooklyn VA and New York Police Department workshop day promoting mental health for vets and servicemen. There are a bunch of photos of group activities and the lunch put on by the VA, and you spot your dad in a couple of them. You’re about to click off when you find one where your dad is posed with another vet and a very official, very dressed up cop. Nothing you haven’t seen at least forty of before in this gallery, but it’s the caption which makes you pause.

It reads, Some of the Brooklyn VA’s finest with NY Chief of Police. It has to be a coincidence, the man’s job title and nothing more. He’s tall, broad, with sandy blonde hair turning grey under his police hat. There are more medals than you can count pinned to his uniform and even in this grainy photo you can tell he would squash your dad like an ant if he gave the Chief of Police a reason to. You’ve never paid attention to this before, steering clear of cops whenever you can, but you find yourself googling him as soon as you can pull yourself away from his mile-long stare.

As soon as the NYPD profile on the Chief of Police loads, your blood turns to ice. You want to say you’re crazy, you’re crazy, you’re paranoid, but name one time your paranoia had led you wrong? Two strange coincidences don’t happen back to back, no matter how disconnected they may appear. Two worlds you never thought you would know, let alone be watching them collide, stare up at you from your computer screen. You can hear Steve’s voice like he’s sitting right next to you, saying “It is strange we haven’t heard anything from Pierce,” and right under a professional portrait of the Chief of Police is his name burning into the back of your eyelids - Alexander Pierce.

You shove your laptop onto the coffee table and stand, pacing back and forth in front of your couch. Scraping a hand through your hair and pulling half of it out of your head in the process, you try to reason your way out of connecting these dots. They’re barely dots, their echoes of dots - so your dad took a photo with the Chief of Police four years ago and he refers to someone he knows as ‘Chief’ as a nickname and Steve mentioned Pierce was someone in Hydra and the Chief of Police happened to be named Alexander Pierce. So what, right?

“Ok, ok, ok, ok,” you say to yourself, rushed and manic. You’ll just ask your dad. He’s your dad, he was never supposed to hide anything from you so why would he start now? If you just ask he might-

You don’t get to finish your thought. Three loud knocks ring through your empty apartment, your doorbell chiming impatiently straight afterwards. You stare at the door with your heart in your throat, long enough for them to ring the doorbell again and a loud, male voice to call out your full name. Someone you don’t recognise, yet they know where you live. You approach the door on silent feet and look through the peephole, reaching for the baseball bat you keep behind a pot plant as you do.

Standing outside are two men in suits, one of whom is looming at the peephole and making stupid faces while his college rolls his eyes and attempts to hold him back. Through the door, you ask, “Who is it? What department are you with?”

“I’m Special Detective James Rhodes and this is my partner, Special Detective Tony Stark,” the unimpressed cop says, elbowing his colleague out of the way who is still trying to look through the wrong side of the peephole. Holding up a badge and gesturing for his partner to do the same, Detective Rhodes says, “We’re with the FBI, ma’am.”

“Shit,” you say, before realising you said that out loud. Your hand feels numb where you grip your baseball bat tightly, and you decide in that moment you have to be dreaming. No way has the events of the past fifteen minutes taken place.

The guy who must be Detective Stark laughs and says, “Shit is right. Let us in, ma’am, we need to ask you some questions.”

You look back at the coffee table laden with copious notes on your father and your open laptop, Chief of Police Alexander Pierce’s face staring back at you. An omen, you think, but it would be even more suspicious if you asked them to wait to clean everything up. Your heart-stopping, life-changing, maybe-discovery will have to wait.

You slide off the chain and unlock your deadbolt, opening the door for the two FBI agents. They walk in without another word, and it really hits you then. It doesn’t matter what Bucky does now, if he leaves you and never comes back or if he never left at all - you’re in this, now. And now you’ll pay the price.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader fic #bucky x reader fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fic #reader insert fic #pov fic #biker!bucky #biker!bucky au #biker au #avengers fic #marvel fic #bucky barnes #natasha romanoff #11 hours #heheheheeeee

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rurifangirl · 3 years

Note

aight. here somes the ask lore thingie

tw for ppl readin: mention of mental illness, father mention

firstly, how did rui end up meetin the rest of the gang? did they all have sum sort of run in? did they just happen to meet on exident?

also is the father a villain? i remember ya mention him, and was wonderin

and do they have a specific place where they stay? like in a dormstory, a single house, do they live in a single town, or in completly different places?

do any of them suffer from mental/physical illnesses? if they do, how does it affect their life/relationships w others?

Aight, so here we go, be ready cuz shit's long.

(1st part - The Rui n the gang meeting; The Shou meeting) No Tw

Honestly, I also kinda wanted to do this for quite a long time, so I'm gonna firstly talk about how the gang (w/o really mentioning the others name's since they're gonna get introduced soon) met itself and decided to form, and then I'll individually do It in Lyva's and Shou's case, specifically Shou's since i mentioned that his meetin was somethin id have to take care of in another post, so i will rn.

First things first, w the whole gang. Now It wasn't really casually, mainly because Lyva n Rui did meet up, but It was during a special occasion still, that being a really important manifestation in one of the main regions in my oc universe. (They don't have name's yet so pls don't bash me🤡) Them being primarly the Forest, where Rui eventually lives in after all of his past shit, the near-countryside part, where Lyva was living, a pretty much city living on water, where Shou's currently living, and many more, as such the dunes with which I'll introduce Qiran (hopefully tomorrow/today),The sea itself, some High up places and as I said many, many other more. Other than this brief intro, they meet up where Lyva used to live, but mainly because of problems and out of conviniance.

Everyone had something to take back from, so they agreed to help eachother to reach that end, so it's all really planned. Now i won't really go w Lyva, cuz i explained how she met Rui the first time n how they helped her, so I don't need to ramble more on this. Now I'm gonna go w Shou's part though.

This Is more of a note i wanted y'all to know first, cuz i really like how Lyva n Rui met him the first time (cuz the second time was when the gang then all agreed to form n all that jazz.). Basically, Rui n Lyva were out, n visiting new places as such, to prepare themselves further and to try and search for more weapons, cuz they both knew that they'd eventually get in trouble, and even though they still are good, they wouldn't stand much a chance, n since Shou's Place is known for its production they decided to go. N fun fact, there's many funny shit that happends, for example Rui tries to touch a fish, but gets SLAPPED by It. They're still mad >:[. Ajkskdj anyways, some other stuff happends n they just, lose themselves. They had a map ofc but still managed to do so. But Rui was usin It so, I don't really blame em for gettin lost.

Shit happends n they find themselves pratically in front of his shrine/palace. Shou's servitors (cuz he saw everything happend from afar n gave them the okay) brought em in, but rather than makin em idk some tea n just making them recouver, Shou rather put them under some "tests" w/o tellin em, to see if they were any use.

For example he brought them some cups of tea, but before drinking them Rui noticed somethin unusual in the water, so they gave Lyva a sign to not drink It, n as Shou asked as a reason why they just replied that they weren't thirsthy, leavin Shou in a kind of defeated state. Bitch if i love this part honestly, there's so much fun to seein all of their reactions, but I'm gonna go brief rn. So other of this tests pass later n Shou eventually gets upset cuz they're all winnin n seemingly makin fun of him, lettin him in a weaket standpoint, n a fight happends. Even though it's a 2v1 situation he can still manage pretty well, so It ends in a draw. They get to talk after this and get to understand that they don't have to necesseraly be on the opposite side, though Shou Is still unsure whether to belive in that or not.

After they leave him, pratically almost alone w only a bunch of servitors helpin him. He admits defeat n won't show up until the event and yadayada. (Also it's during this weak time of his he'll meet Qiran which i already have plans w so it's all goin to be said bout their relationship in their post.)

(2nd part, the father mention.) Tw:father mention

So it's true that w Shou i did mention his father, but I'm not entirely sure bout his involvment honestly. In theory he kind of is a villain itself, even because of his devilish nature, so it's true, but im not sure whether to make him an independent villain or part of a group of them. But rather than that yes, i do want to make him some sort of villain in the end, because that's also part of Shou's agreement to be part of the group. I will make concept art for him so he'll definetly be involved. Not gonna lie, mabye that bastards also involved w Rui's cult too in a way or another but im givin in too many details holy shit I'll never get outta this fuck

(3rd part- where do they live) No Tw

They live in their own homes honestly, but It would be no surprise if they'd all decide to sleep over someone in specifical, though they have their own place. I made some concepts for Rui's intern home, which here It Is 😤 (forgive me for the bad quality but it's 2 am rn 🤡) I made this a while ago but only did Rui's, so I'll do Lyva's, Shou's n the other one's too. They live in different places, for the exception of, atm, Qiran, since I'm gonna say that they're more of a traveller n don't have a stable home.

(4th part- the mental/physical ilnesses) Tw: Self harm and Mental ilness mention

Well, this Is gonna be a ride. They all suffer from Ptsd, which Rui n Shou suffering from It the most. It still affects them all, though in different occasions, so Imma just do them in specifical. (Also because i gotta add some shit to shou that i didn't wanna add because i thought It was too much honestly)

Rui-

It affects them really much. They use crystals n gems to avoid anything going w their past or anything remotely related It, as whenever they feel awful about havin those flashbacks when they still were a child. They never want to talk about what happened, n during their moments It gets really, really bad. Both emotionally and physically, as their body sometimes cannot handle anything so it completely shuts down. They never really got any help for It as Rui's too scared to share bout their experience, both because of trauma itself that doesn't make them say anything even if they wanted to and because of the cults influence, so either way they've got to handle It by their own.

Lyva-

Other than havin to deal w mornin sickness, which Is the least for her, she has to deal w her neglectful childood and how desperate she's always been for litteraly anythin, whether it's related about love,friendship, food, toys, anything. She tried to seek for help and semi found It, but as of now she can't keep up w It and has better things to take care of. It's still really bad overall, but she's hoping for things to get better. Spoiler It really won't.

Shou-

⭕Tw for sh⭕

It's... really fucking bad. I'm gonna get outta this w saying something i didn't want to add because it's really triggerin, but im gonna do It now. So basically, I've mentioned them acting feminenly for his own mother, but i didn't say what would've happened if he displeased her. She would just stare down at him and whispering some awful shit or names. This would happen especially whenever he'd slip off that mask of his or revealed even a tiny bit of his devilish essence. Note that he's still a child here. So, best thing he could to was to "punish" himself, which basically consists of him scratching his arms too much and, i don't really want to continue this, forgive me but it's kind of triggering even for me. But...you can guess what he's doing, since he even to this day still keeps sharp nails. I'm sorry for putting this, but it's another way to show how his mother fucked him up and now suffering from this.

I'm sorry for rushin the last part but i'm not personally vibing w it.

Tags undercut

@a-chaotic-dumbass @spoopy-fish-writes @dopesaladlady @damnfoxx (I'm really unsure bout taggin ya in this ;-;)

If you want your tag removed, dm me cuz it's 3 am at the moment n i may have messed em up. (I'm not gonna recheck tomorrow so that's why)

#whdkkwkwkdk honestly I've written so fucjing much n for what😭😭#ruruasks #rurusocs #ruruslore #oc #ocs #my ocs stuff #rui #Lyva #shou #oc lore #i hope this shit doesn't flop cuz I've written so much n im just goinwbdjlwkdjdowodijqowodjdjoaodjdjdj #asks

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eat0crow · 5 years

Note

Cliche but can I request flower shop owner Marinette with gang boi Jason?

Dear sweet Anon, you have no idea how weak I am for cliche tropes. I took some liberties here seeing as Red Hood is already a sorta gang leader and just used that! I hope you like my rambly headcanons! I had so many ideas for this au that I really had to try to hold back.

Ground Zero

1) There’s a flower shop right on the edge of Jason’s territory that’s essentially become an urban legend.

No one is actually sure how exactly it’s still standing, it borders two rival gangs, Red Robin’s usual patrol route, and Jason’s terf. There have been at least three gang wars raging on the same street, yet still Miraculous stands as the one neutral spot in all of Gotham. It’s a cute shop, don’t get Jason wrong, but the only miraculous thing about it is that no one has even tried to claim it.

He brings it up once, the keyword once. Because the shop has stood as neutral ground for at least a century, and no one wants to be the one to break that streak. The shop is also cursed apparently, or at least protected by some malevolent force. The building lost a shingle once in the ’80s to a member of the False Facers, and the very next day saw Gotham PD hauling in at least two-thirds of the Black Mask’s operation.

Which is probably exaggerated, right? None of the minor drug lords under Jason want to get into it. The Black Mask doesn’t want to get into it. (He clams up the moment Jason tells him the shop re-opened, apparently, it had closed a year after the shingle incident)

Miraculous, as well as the parking lot it sits on, is the ground zero of Gotham. No crime goes into the lot, no crime goes out. The pots are never tipped over, no one tries to steal even a single rose from the display. No one touches the cute building, even if it’s painted an obnoxious pastel pink that stands out like a sore thumb in the Gotham night. At least, as far as everyone knows—Jason is still kinda skeptical about that. Really, it’s the perfect set up for a smuggling ring.

Tim is there sometimes as Red Robin. All the time really, at least twice a week. Jason has caught him more than once staked out with a pair of binoculars in the windows. A couple of times he even catches him helping the clerk repot plants. Which, yeah, Jason’s met Tim a time or two, he doesn't make a habit of sticking around his family, but the kid never came off as the gardening type.

It’s especially funny though, to see the pictures of Red Robin in a pink apron behind the counter trending on twitter.

He’s tried to go in a handful of times, to offer the owner his protection and whatnot. But each time he tries he forgets what he’s doing before he even turns the handle. Whoever runs this place must have the best luck in the world because this shit has been happening since it was built.

You’re a wayward gang member attempting to talk to the owner, you end up forgetting what you’re doing mid-action, and only start to remember five days later. The building is damaged, so is whatever scheme you’ve been planning. Actually in the shop when you decide to talk business, nope, it’s time for the most inconvenient phone call of your life.

“Why Dick, did you have to call me? I was so close.”

“Jason, are you crying?”

“I finally made it into the door. I’ve been trying for months to get in. But no, your ass gets stuck in your suit, and suddenly it’s time to call Jason. Nope, lose my number.”

2) Apparently everyone, including the fucking demon spawn, has been to Miraculous.

They all get kind of quiet when he brings it up though, Alfred actually leaves the room. Jason may have issues with Bruce, and Dick, and Tim, and don’t even get him started on Damian, but Alfred’s always been the neutral party for them. He’s always been the one they go to, no matter what. Upsetting Alfred is a capital offense. Jason feels...shitty about it.

“Alfred used to go, and get a bouquet there every weak after you died,” Dick tells him, folding his hands together, and settling in. Tim looks uneasy, and far more awkward than usual—which is saying something. “He’d get some white lilies to put on your grave. I went with him a few times, but he hasn’t been back since. I think the shop reminds him of it. When you were...you know.”

“Oh.” Jason really feels like an asshole.

“Yeah, I can’t say I’ve been back either.” Dick rubs the back of his neck like he’s admitting to something secret. “It used to be on my patrol route, back when I was first Robin. It always used to creep me out so I'd avoid it.”

“Really, Grayson,” Damian says with the same air of condescending superiority he always has.

“Hey, back in those days it was an abandoned building. The one that the witch owned! I don’t know about you, but I don’t fuck with witches. No thank you! I like my limbs.”

Jason might actually remember something like that, it’s hard. Like all the memories from before are hard, but he thinks back to being a kid. To growing up in a scummy neighborhood, and hearing people talk about the witching house that no one was allowed near. The one spot Squatters and Junkies, no matter how desperate, wouldn’t step foot in.

“It’s not all that bad,” Tim says. “My mom remembered when it was open the first time around. Mr. Fu was really nice, he used to let her play in the pots.”

“That aside,” Dick says fixing Jason with a half-crazed look. “It re-opened like a month after you died, so yeah, I went there with Alfred a lot. Like once a month a lot. The shop has this thing. You go in, and you’re instantly wrapped up in this nostalgic warm-fuzzy-reliving-my-childhood feeling. It’s weird.”

Tim stares. “I think that’s a you problem. I go in all the time, and yeah, the shop has a nice vibe, but it’s more like a you’re-safe-here thing.”

“You’re both, as usual, utterly wrong.” Damian sniffs. “If anything, the shop feels like coming home.”

The entire table turns to stare at him with wide unbelieving eye’s. Jason can hardly believe his ears...did Damian really just say something like that. The shocked look on even Dick’s face goes a long way in saying just how much no one can believe something so well adjusted came out of the demon spawn’s mouth.

Damian’s blush is priceless, his stutter—yes it’s a stutter no matter how much he denies it—is even better. “I mean to say. It feels familiar. The shop, you walk in, even for the first time, and you feel like you’ve walked through the door hundreds of times.”

Which, huh, because. “I always thought it felt like a warning. You step one foot onto the lot, and it feels like the walls themselves are daring you to start shit.”

3) Despite the hype that's built up around Jason going in, his first visit—No, Marinette that one didn’t count I literally just turned the door handle—is really anticlimactic.

It works like this, Roy asks him to pick up flowers, because Valentine's Day is today, and Kori will know what he's doing the second he tries to make up some lame excuse. Jason will never know how the man could ever be such a bad liar. As far as Kori knows, Jason is doing a typical supply run. Which, he is doing a supply run, even if the thought of cheesy romantic comedy cliches makes him sick.

All the same, Jason takes his role as best bro seriously, even though he has doubts about being able to complete this task. If his previous 52 failures are anything to go by, Miraculous hates him. There are only so many times a man can get maimed before he comes to the conclusion that the building itself has it out for him.

The hornets were what sold him. Not the bees, the hornets.

So with the air of a man who has just been sent out to war, Jason puts on this thickest jacket, his gloves, leaves his phone behind—even if attempt 34 taught him that was a really stupid idea—and braces himself to step inside. Maybe it’s because this is the first time Jason has gone into the flower shop for actual flowers. Maybe his luck is improving. Maybe...maybe the universe is setting him up for something even worse. Either way, it’s the first time the hair on the back of his neck doesn’t stand up the moment his foot hits the floor.

The girl at the counter is cute, just around his age with the bluest eyes he’s ever seen. That says something, because Jason has met Superman. That man's eyes are literally otherworldly. But Marinette’s, Jason has a suspicion this is the Mari Tim is always talking about, her eyes look like they’re glowing.

Jason realizes he’s been standing in the doorway staring, way too hard, when Marinette, that’s what her name tags says, clears her throat. With an air of confidence—Jason is a firm believer in the inherent power of bull shitting your way to success—he walks up to the counter.

“I’m looking for a bouquet,” Her stare is piercing and Jason swears it burns all the way down to his soul. “For Valentine's day. One with roses, and all that shit.”

Marinette huffs, and points to a depressingly empty display shelf. “You, and just about everyone else. Did you place an order?”

“Did I place an..” Jason trails off under his breath. “Please tell me you have something with the name Roy Harper in your registry.”

Marinette takes a moment to glance down, to ruffle through her papers. “I’m sorry, I only have one left, and its got the last name Grayson on it.”

Jason sees his life flash devastatingly fast across his eyes. It ends with him being torn to shreds by one of Roy’s homemade bombs when he comes back empty-handed. There won’t even be enough of him left to throw in a Lazarus pit. Nope, he’ll be sidewalk chalk.

So really he feels no guilt in fleshing his most charming smile, the one that always makes the old ladies coo, and saying. “Perfect, I’m here to pick that one up.”

Marinette takes one look at him draped over the counter, and bursts out laughing. Today is not a good day for Jason’s ego. “I thought you were Roy Harper.”

“No, I’m Dick Grayson.” The words are bitter in his mouth. “But the bouquet is for my friend, and I wasn’t sure what name he put it under.”

“Oh,” Marinette says, a smirk playing across her lips. “You think I was born yesterday. Sorry hon, but you’re not an alternative pick up, and I'll need to see some ID.”

“You expect me to show ID for flowers?..... Really?”

“Yes, I expect you to show ID when you’ve given me two different names, and those flowers are worth over a hundred dollars,” Marinette bites back. “Sorry, but that’s been paid in full, and I’m not going to lose a customer.”

“Okay,” Jason says, taking two crisp bills out of his wallet. It hurts because Roy gave him a twenty, and Jason will always be a cheap bastard at heart. Nevertheless, he likes Kori, she deserves this, even if Roy, who will be begging for mercy later, does not. He has to very consciously remove his hand after sliding them over. The urge to snatch them back is strong. “Listen, I really need that fucking bouquet. I am prepared to pay you double the price Grayson paid.”

Marinette actually looks offended. “Just because everyone else in this city is okay with being bribed doesn’t mean I am. You can keep your money.”

“Everyone has a price.” Jason gives her a look. “Name it.”

“Well, I don’t,” Marinette snaps, reaching down for her phone. “You can take your money, and fuck off. Before I get Red Robin over here to flush you out.”

“And here I was, thinking this was neutral territory.”

“It is.” Marinette stiffens. “This place isn’t under Red Robin’s protection, but he’s still my friend. I won’t hesitate to get him over here.”

“How about this then. The bouquet for protection. I can get Red Hood to claim this place.”

“What part of neutral didn’t you get?” Marinette asks, leaning over the counter and getting into his space. From here, just inches apart, her eyes are iridescent. Blue light toxically dripping out of a cracked glow stick. “Miraculous doesn’t get involved in your shit. You all want to wage war on each other? You want to pedal drugs? You want to smuggle shit? That’s cool, but you keep that away from my fucking shop. Miraculous doesn't get involved, you can all kill each other outside.”

She’s kind of terrifying up close. If Jason wasn’t convinced she would disembowel him, he’d be tempted to kiss her. Consent, however, is sexy as fuck.

Jason knows when he’s fighting a losing battle. “Is there any way. Anyway in hell, that I can get my hands on those fucking flowers?”

“Yeah,” Marinette says sitting back down. “You can call Grayson, and have him give them to you. But aside from that, I’ve seen a lot of shit. Sorry buddy, but you can’t buy me or scare me into anything.”

“I’ll call the sorry bastard up right now.”

“I’m not giving you his number.”

“I don’t need you to give me his number, I have it right…” Jason trails off, suddenly he remembers leaving his phone behind.

4) Jason is a petty asshole who has learned that the secret to getting into the flower shop is to think flowers.

Listen, Jason had to make do with drugstore flowers, and Roy’s disappointed puppy eyes for a month after being kicked out on his ass. To add insult to injury, Tim tracked him down two days later, as he was mid drug bust, to tell him to stay away from Marinette.

Okay, it’s not like he hadn’t already been planning to go back, frankly, the shop is a strategic masterpiece. Half of its cred as an urban legend comes from the fact that whoever claimed it would be given an instant power-up. It’s the One Ring to rule them all. Jason has to go back, and convince Marinette that the Red Hood is the one to ally with. He has to.

So yeah he’s going to go back anyway, but now he really wants to. Because Tim, his replacement, dared him. Maybe a bigger person would back down, what with all the external forces building up around the shop, the legend, the neutrality, the many failed attempts, Tim somehow having a vested interest…well, Jason has never been the bigger person.

Not by a long shot.

The first three times he attempts to return, Marinette meets him at the door. She’s quick about flipping the sign from open to closed. Jason, the first time, had tried turning the handle, whatever magic makes that building hate him, makes it lock up the second the sign changes. It’s not Marinette, Jason watched her. Her hands never touched the lock.

The first person he complains to is Roy, of course, who actually gives him the idea. Roy is a genius sometimes. So attempt four ends with him buying a single sunflower. It’s gaudy as all hell, and also the first thing his hand touched after he spent an hour trying to get Marinette’s attention.

She apparently will only talk to him in the brief thirty seconds she spends cashing him out. Which, yeah, that’s fair.

And so it begins. Every day except Tuesday, the only day the shop is closed, Jason goes in, buys a single sunflower, and talks up the Red Hood.

Even if Miraculous never comes into his fold, this will all have been worth it just to have seen the look on Tim’s face the first time he comes in just as Jason's buying his daily flower.

There’s a small hole burned into his wallet, but Kori loves sunflowers.

Jason’s not the only regular, but he’s the most frequent, by the end of his fourth month he knows all the other regular’s sob stories, and everyone and their mother thinks he's sweet on Marinette. That may be the kind of true by this point. He’s worn her down to where she will talk to him as he browses. Even if she also complains that, “It’s pointless. I already have your sunflower set aside.”

Month six marks a distinct turning point in their relationship. He was upgraded from General-Creep to Recurring-Menace to Okay-I-Guess-We’re-Sorta-Friends-Now a while ago. Month six is the month he gains the title of Permanent-Fixture. It’s marked by him walking in and Marinette forcing an apron on him.

“I told Red Robin when he started coming by, that if he was going to hang around than he needed a reason to. So if you want to hang in Miraculous you’re going to work in Miraculous.”

“Unpaid labor is illegal.”

“No, it’s not. It’s just called volunteering.”

5) Getting together actually takes a while.

Jason is relentless when it comes to his recruitment pitches, but he has standards for fuck's sake. No woman actually enjoys it when men flirt with them on the clock. There’s a whole power imbalance thing that makes him sick to his stomach.

Sure Marinette can take care of herself. She’s a force of nature. Jason had offered to help carry potting soil for her once. One time. That was before he saw her lift the thirty pound bag over her shoulder like an empty sack of rice. Marinette can take care of herself, she just won’t.

Jason has seen more than one scummy fuck harass her. She gets quiet….she loses her confidence, and it’s just so wrong to see a person as strong as Marinette look small. He’s not sure what about blatant flirting and bad pick up lines bothers her so much but—Marinette can never know, and they’ll never tell her that the Red Hood tracked each one of them down. Threats are beautiful things. They just make it all come together.

He is a gentleman, even after he starts working with her. While co-workers flirting with each other isn’t as bad, it’s still kind of awful. The problem is that Marinette is always working, she never leaves Miraculous. Even on her off days.

So Jason, never finds the right time to ask her out himself. All the regulars already think they’re dating. His brothers think they’re dating. Alfred, Alfred thinks they’re dating after walking into the shop one time since Jason’s resurrection. He’s thankful his brothers gave him a heads up—not. Alfred walks in to find him behind the counter with a fluffy pink apron on, even his refined British manners are tested. Jason just knows he’s laughing. He knows.

It happens like this, Jason teams up with Batman and Co. to help with a standard smuggling ring. Nothing difficult, the only reason it should have required all of them was because of the shipment size. It should have been easy. It had been easy.

That is until the Joker shows up, Jason freezes, and takes a bullet straight to the stomach.

Stomachs bleed...a lot.

He doesn’t remember much of what happened after that. Stomachs also hurt a lot, and it’s hard to think coherently when you’re in excruciating pain. Jason, blacked out shortly after Dick started putting pressure on the wound. For future reference, while stopping the bleeding might be important, it hurts like fucking hell.

Marinette is the first thing he sees when he opens his eyes. She’s hunched over herself in the plastic chair next to his bed. Someone, probably Dick or Alfred, draped a blanket over her. She looks vastly out of place, like the room itself is sucking the life out of her. The lighting makes her skin almost translucent.

The second thing he sees is the sunflowers covering every inch of the hospital room. There must have been a couple dozen, at least. It was probably closer to a hundred if not more. Despite the pain that comes with laughing, Jason can’t help himself.

His laughter alerts the nurse, who alerts his family. Apparently, they’ve all been camping out in the waiting room. Much comfier couches there. His family wakes Marinette, who turns her piercingly otherworldly eyes on him.

Marinette stays quiet through all his family’s fussing. She stays quiet even after that. All she does is stare. Jason doesn’t think she’s actually seeing him.

“I didn’t think I missed this many days,” Jason jokes, gesturing to the multitude of flowers wrapped around every available surface.

“No, you didn’t.” Marinette’s answer is curt. She’s distracted, Jason really wishes he knew what she was seeing.

“Not a fan of Hospitals?” Jason tries.

Marinette blinks. The cloudy look on her face disappearing as she shakes her head. “No, I really can’t stand them.”

“Me either.” Jason feels an intense desire to continue the conversation, if only to keep Marinette from closing up again. “You know, you didn’t have to visit me.”

“I wanted to,” Marinette says. “Your brother called, and told me what happened. I came by just after you were finishing up in surgery.”

“What about the shop?”

Jason has been working at Miraculous—volunteering because Marinette still doesn’t pay him—for months. He’s invested in the place now.

"It can be closed for a few days,” Marinette says, reaching over to take his hand. Jason lets her, he’s always hated hospitals. It's gotten worse since he came back. The comfort is welcome. “This is more important.”

Jason wants to say something, to take his shot, and ask her out. Because she’s just as important to him, but it feels wrong so, he settles with, “You’re a really good friend Marinette.”

He does his best to ignore the way the words choke him.

“I think,” Marinette starts, only to stop herself. There’s a moment of internal debate before she continues, “I think we both know we’re a little more than just friends.”

6) Jason never does claim Miraculous, it remains perfectly neutral, despite having the Bat-Family practically living out of the apartment upstairs.

“Hey, do you think now that we're dating you can convince Tim to come by out of costume?”

Jason blanks. “What?”

“Tim, do you think you can get him to stop dropping by as Red Robin so much. People are starting to think Miraculous has been claimed as part of Batman’s terf.”

Jason does the most logical thing he can think of. He buries his face in his hands, and groans. “Why did you have to figure it out?”

“Was I…not supposed to?”

“No, no you weren’t. How did you?”

“Jason, there’s only one person you hate as much as Tim, and that’s Red Robin. I’ve seen how you look at both of them. No one makes your eyes scream murder as much as he does. Not even Dick.”

“Oh God,” Jason says wiping a hand across his face. “Does that mean—”

“That I know you’re the Red Hood?” Marinette asks, cutting him off. “Hmm, I’ve known that for longer. Probably since you first started coming around consistently. At first, I thought you had like, the biggest boner for the guy, but then you seemed really into me and well, you talked him up way too much to either not have a crush on him or be him so, I connected the dots.”

#maribat #jasonette #crow writes #I am powered by spite #Drabble drabble where this is 3k #flowershop au #headcanon #jason todd #tim drake #marinette dupain cheng

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pkg4mumtown · 4 years

Text

Welcome to Hawkins PD (Ch. 2)

Chapter Title: Welcome to Hawkins PD

Chapter 2 of 9?

Read Chapter 1 HERE

AN: Don’t ask me why I’m torturing myself by doing 1st person cover art, now. I have roughly 9 chapters outlined so far and it probably won’t go more than that. Hope you enjoy.

Warnings: Smoking, cursing, Hopper trying to be funny

Summary: You get to know your Chief a bit more as you make your way into Hawkins.

Taglist: @kingphillipblake

If you'd like to be in my taglist (for this fic or everything) or removed, lmk. I'm not tagging anyone I had on my "all writing" list last year because I don't know if they still feel the same!

The start of the drive was uncomfortably tense. My nervousness was more obvious as I took my sunglasses off, allowing the Chief to see my eyes darting around the cab. I eventually let my gaze focus on the passing trees and forestry, getting lost in the green blur.

“Not too chatty, huh? We’ll get along just fine,” Hopper smirked as he basically asked and answered himself. He glanced at me for any kind of reaction, instead seeing me zoned out, “You okay, kid?”

I hadn’t been intentionally ignoring him but was snapped out of my stupor by the word “kid” hanging in the air.

“Kid?” he asked again.

“I’m not a kid,” I snapped and crossed my arms. I mumbled under my breath, hoping he wouldn’t yell at me as the words left my mouth, “I’m twenty-seven years old for Christ’s sake.”

Hopper simply raised his eyebrows and scoffed, “Sure got the hearing of one.” He tapped his steering wheel rhythmically and pursed his lips, “Twenty-seven, huh?”

“Mhmm, why?”

“Just older than what usually passes through the academy is all,” he shrugged.

“Yea, well, I tried to be a good little secretary and then a telephone operator just like mom and dad said but…” I trailed off.

“But what?”

“I fucking hated it, sir,” I sighed, suddenly remembering my manners. “When I told them I wanted to join a police department, they figured I meant as a secretary or a dispatcher. Imagine their horror when I packed up and told them their little girl was off to be a cop.”

“Old fashioned folks,” Hopper nodded.

“Still not an excuse, sir,” I grumbled.

“You can drop the ‘sir’ act, Y/L/N. You’re not a recruit anymore. ‘Chief’ or ‘Hopper’ work just fine at our station.”

“Sorry, s—Chief,” I murmured.

“It’s fine,” he brushed it off with a wave of his hand. “So, they didn’t come to your graduation?”

“Nope,” I punctuated by popping the “p”.

“Christ, I’m sorry…”

“My best friend came, at least. She got me these,” I smiled, pointing to the glasses that hung from my uniform.

Hopper chuckled at the sight of the glasses mimicking his own, “Yea, that’s a necessary part of the uniform. Next is the hat,” he tilted the brim down and winked.

I let out a not-so-feminine snort as both of our laughter filled the truck. I was worried I’d been too rude before, so I was grateful for the break in tension. I covered my mouth as I laughed, feeling Hopper’s stare as his chest vibrated.

“What?” I asked as I caught him staring instead of paying attention to the empty road.

“Nothin', just the first time I’ve seen you laugh. You’ve been so serious up until now,” he looked away quickly. “It looks good on you, y’know?” he added, his voice barely a murmur.

I felt my face heat up at his words and if his ears were any indication, he was embarrassed as well. I didn’t have to be a detective to see that. I cleared my throat and murmured my thanks before growing silent again.

“So, um, they help you get set up with a place in town already?” Hopper changed the subject.

“Uh, no, I’m gonna stay at a motel for a couple days while I get that and transportation sorted.”

“What!? No, no, no, no,” he replied quickly. “Trust me, you don’t want any part of those motels,” Hopper gave me a terrified glance, like he’d definitely seen some shit there. “I’ve got a trailer I moved out of that you can rent from me.”

“Chief, really, it’s okay. I can—”

“Y/L/N,” he cut me off with a pointed glare. “You can stay there as long as you want or until you find somewhere better. I’m not gonna charge you an arm and a leg for rent,” he reassured me.

“Thanks, I really appreciate that,” I gave him a small smile.

“Hey, I’m not as big a jerk as everyone says I am, alright?” Hopper grumbled.

“Who says that?”

“You’ll see,” he shook his head and sighed. “We can swing by the utilities office when we get there and get everything turned on for ya.”

The rest of the drive managed to fly by as we chatted, nothing too personal and mostly more about me than him. He drove me to the trailer after getting everything sorted out with the utilities and setting me up to make payments. The long driveway to the trailer crunched under his tires but the bumpy ride was worth the view in the secluded area.

“This is it,” he grunted as he put the Blazer in park.

“This view is great, why’d you move?” I asked as I took in the surroundings and spotted the lake behind the trailer.

“Eh, it’s just too small,” he motioned towards his torso with his hand.

I rose an eyebrow at him, letting my gaze land on his torso, flick over to the trailer, and back over to his face, “You’re not that big.”

“You know,” he started with a mischievous grin as he opened the driver’s side door, “a less secure man would have taken offense to that.”

“Chief!” was all I could manage to berate him with as he turned away from me and broke out in to laughter.

We jumped out of the truck at the same time and this time I didn’t protest when he offered to help me with my bags. His keys jingled softly as he stomped up the stairs and unlocked the door to the trailer. Hopper and his obscenely thick fingers fought with the keyring for a moment before finally freeing the key and handing it over to me.

“Here,” he murmured and held the metal between two fingers, effectively dwarfing the key, “and there’s a spare key under the first step,” he nodded outside.

Hopper took a couple spins around the living room and sniffled loudly, “Little musty, sorry. Um, I left quite a few things here, so it might just need some picking up and dusting. I kinda moved in a hurry.”

“It’s not a problem, it’ll give me something to do, Chief,” I reassured him.

We fell into an awkward silence, causing Hopper to step semi-discreetly to the door. He fished his pockets for his business card as he spoke, “Well, uh, if you need anything…”

I graciously accepted the card from him, “Actually, Chief, d'ya happen to have a map on you? So, I can figure my way around this place by Monday?”

“Shit, what am I thinking?” Hopper murmured to himself, realizing he’d just dropped me off seemingly in the middle of nowhere without a sense of direction. His brows knitted together in thought, making his thinking face look angry, “I can show you around right now if you want? Maybe grab lunch while we’re at it as a…congrats?” His lips pushed up and his eyes squinted as he waited for my answer.

“You don’t have to do that, really. I’m sure you have better things to do on a Saturday,” I tried to refuse. “I can manage with just a map.”

“My daughter is at her friend’s house, so I would either sit at the station bored off my ass or drink myself to sleep at home,” Hopper pursed his lips and feigned thinking with his hands on his hips, “Or I can give you a welcome tour.”

I laughed at this ridiculous man and his antics and finally relented, “Fine, but let me change at least.”

Hopper agreed and showed me the rest of the trailer. It was hard not to imagine this hulking man living in this tight trailer as he effortlessly stalked through the rooms. I could almost see his body engulfing the small couch or his broad shoulders bumping walls when he’d get drunk. The tour ended in the bedroom with a bare mattress and the floor littered with the odd empty pack of cigarettes. I tossed my duffel on the bed and started sifting through the civilian clothes I had packed. I heard Hopper open the closet and make a low noise of surprise.

“Hey, I left clothes here,” he held up a red flannel shirt from the closet, which contained a couple pairs of pants and a few random shirts. “A change wouldn’t hurt, nothing happens on the weekends,” Hopper brought the shirt to his nose and grimaced, but shrugged and piled it in one arm anyway. “If this shit gets in your way, feel free to throw it in a bag and chuck it in my office.”

I had pulled out jeans, a shirt, and a sweater and laid them on the bed. By the time Hopper turned back around with his findings, I had halfway unbuttoned my uniform shirt without thinking twice.

“Woah, woah, woah!” Hopper held up his free hand to his eyes right away. “At least let me leave first, Y/L/N! For Pete's sake…” Hopper felt his way out of the room, nearly tripping when his foot caught on the threshold.

As we got back in the Blazer, Hopper chucked his uniform in the back seat. He fetched a pack of Camels from his pocket and held them up in question.

“Mind?”

“Not if I can bum one off you, Chief,” I smirked, grabbing my bun and releasing my hair from its confines. I slipped my hair tie around my wrist and shook my hair out, not really caring how it looked, only that my scalp could breathe.

The corner of Hopper’s mouth turned up before he was shaking the box and pulling out a cigarette. He let it rest between his lips, then turned the box toward me so I could grab one for myself.

“First things first,” he mumbled around the cigarette while lighting it. I leaned my head forward as he brought the lighter towards me. After, I leaned back in my seat, hearing the snap of the lighter closing before I saw his hand extending towards me. “Jim,” his lips closed loosely to avoid dropping the cigarette as he waited with an open palm.

I shook his offered hand, fighting the urge explore the ridges of his palm, “Y/N.”

We took off in the direction of town, silently filling the Blazer with smoke. I tried my best to memorize my surroundings as Hopper pointed out different stores and buildings. He rambled about the owners of certain places, far more than just a Chief might know.

“You grow up here?” I wondered aloud.

“Yea,” he let out a silent laugh, releasing smoke from his lungs as he did. “Moved back about six years ago or so. Good catch.”

We pulled into the diner parking lot, just as my cigarette reached its end, “Damn, I’m sad that’s gone,” I spoke mainly to myself.

“Yea, Bridge got mad at me for trying to bring one when I visited ILEA a month back. How long were you deprived?” Hopper joked while getting out of the car.

“Mm, four months and change,” I answered slowly as if I was unsure.

“Ouch,” he grimaced and stepped ahead of me to open the diner door like it was the most natural thing in the world.

I pushed down my tendency to blush but failed, instead using my hair to block my cheeks from Hopper's eyes. What can I say? I had a thing for old fashioned manners.

He nodded a silent greeting to a waitress and made a beeline for an empty booth, because I guess when you’re the Chief you can just do that. After receiving an odd look from the waitress as we ordered drinks and more stares from women in the diner, I shifted in my seat uncomfortably. The waitress came back around to take our food orders and drop off our drinks, my drink earning me a mocking eyebrow from Hopper.

“Milkshake? Really?” he choked out a laugh around his cup of coffee.

“Excuse me, I’m still allowed the rest of the day to celebrate, Chief,” I replied with an air of pride and a smidgen of sass as I wrapped my lips around the straw.

“You’re right, you’re right,” he chuckled and shook his head, staring down at his coffee and then glancing out the window in a quick canvas.

“Thank you, though,” I started, causing him to meet my eyes. “Thank you for celebrating with me when my own family wouldn’t.”

Hopper swirled his coffee before speaking, “Guess you could say…we’re your family, now.” He raised the mug up and toward me, so I did the same with my glass. He tapped our glasses together in a toast and let a satisfied smile spread over his lips, “Welcome to Hawkins PD.”

I nodded enthusiastically and brought the straw back to my mouth, “Yea, I'll drink to that.”

I sipped on the shake, casually glancing around the dining area and seeing quickly averted eyes. I chewed my straw and furrowed my brows in thought. I’d been silently pondering for so long that I hadn’t realized Hopper was watching the wheels turn in my head.

“What’s up?”

“Mm,” I made a noise indicating I’d heard him as I swallowed. “Why am I being stared at by every woman here?”

“Well,” he cleared his throat, “Small town, new face…women gossip, is the first reason.”

“And the second?”

Hopper took a deep breath through his nose, “Remember when I said that everyone thinks I’m a jerk?”

I simply nodded in understanding.

“Well, ‘everyone’ meant…women.”

We sat in silence for a few seconds while his words washed over me. My eyebrows flew up as I realized what he meant while my hand moved to hide my laughter.

“No!” I gasped in amused shock behind my hand as I deciphered his words.

“Yeah,” he rubbed his brow and grimaced at my shocked face.

I leaned forward on my elbows, smiling widely. His playfully forlorn face told me he knew I’d figured it out and was waiting for the impending grief I was going to lay on him. “Chief…you’re a slut?” I couldn’t hold back the giggle that escaped my lips.

“Correction, I used to be a slut, alright?” he rolled his eyes. “I stopped when I adopted my daughter.”

“Mhmm,” I raised an eyebrow at him as if I didn’t believe him.

“I’m serious!”

After eating, fighting over paying for lunch (a fight he won), and taking me to the grocery store (yet another fight he won), we pulled up to the trailer. Hopper helped me take the bags inside and lingered in the living room.

“If I have any questions,” I showed him the map I stole from his Blazer, “I’ll call you.”

“I’ll keep an ear out,” he smirked and opened the trailer door.

I held the door open as he walked out, stopping when I spoke up, “Wish me luck buying my own car tomorrow.”

Hopper stopped in his tracks and turned around, “What were you gonna do? Walk to the dealership?”

“Uh, bus?”

“No,” he shook his head, turned, and kept walking, “I’ll pick you up at ten tomorrow.”

“Chief!” I protested, but he kept walking to his Blazer.

“They’re less likely to haggle you if the Chief of Police is there, alright!?” he shouted back, not giving me another chance to speak as he got in the truck.

Chapter 3

Hopper stuck his arm out of the window, offering a passive wave of his hand and a smile as he turned the truck around. I leaned against the doorframe and waved back, wondering how in the hell I was supposed to survive a career next to Jim Hopper.

#jim hopper fanfiction #jim hopper x you #jim hopper x reader #chief hopper x reader #chief hopper x you #chief hopper fanfiction #david harbour fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction

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lovesickslasherapples · 4 years

Text

HC for slashers...(not requested) warnings:mention of nsfw

Michael Myers

At first Michael isn’t going to exactly be so affectionate

Nor does he care about any type of intimacy at all..now that doesn’t mean he won’t ever what any though

It may seem like he doesn’t want your attention most of the time but there will come a day or sometime during the day he will NEED your attention

He will come behind you while your cooking and just back hug you out of nowhere BUT if you don’t give him the attention he wants he will get it himself

Michael gets what he wants when he wants..he would take you away no matter your protests at what you were doing and trap you in his arms silently saying ‘You will love me woman’

As most people would say Michael is just a time ticking bomb going to explode at anytime so don’t tease him OR ELSE

Michael has no problem take dominance over you especially since he is the dominant one in the relationship no matter the gender

He will make sure you know your place

Jason Voorhees

Jason is kinda shy at first he hasn’t had someone so kinda to him besides his mom

Someone treating him like a normal human being isn’t something he’s used to so expect him to be kinda confused as to why you aren’t running away from him or afraid

Cue the Jason head tilt...he wouldn’t expect you to smile and ask him to walk or stay with you in the cabin or sit by the lake

It will take some time for Jason to warm up to you but when he does..what have you done to him?!

Jason would fall head over heels for you

He swore to protect you from any harm that being said he doesn’t like when you go near the lake he doesn’t wanna loss you not his Y/n

Jason sets some rules for you and expects you to follow them break one..is punishment

Though that might just be sit in a corner and don’t move cause let’s be honest Jason doesn’t think sex is good it’s always been told it’s bad by his mom

So don’t try anything on him cause you might scare him off

It’s best to wait and explain it to him cause he might be kinda clueless

One BIG no no is taking off his mask not yet at least..then again he doesn’t wanna lose you Jason is insecure about his face he thinks of he shows you-you will be disgusted and run off to find someone else

Jason isn’t a big fan of teasing considering his past..so be careful of you actions around him it would break his heart if you teased him cause he might take it the wrong way

Jason is precious just praise him!

Freddy Kruger

Okay let’s get the this straight you must have done something to keep this man attached to you

Freddy likes lots of girls so for you to keep him in a leash is a big shocker

Congratulations you have tamed the Freddy Kruger..be prepared for him to be all over you

Freddy can be annoying sometimes but this man is hilarious..he will talk your ears off with dirty jokes and cringy pick up lines

He’s a HUGE flirt and can get sexual at times especially when he goes in for a kiss and it gets deeper as it goes

Now he may sound like a total player but..he also has his insecurities like his skin

One it’s burnt so I don’t think he would appreciate being called a burnt potato as funny as it may sound to you it will put him in a bad mood for a while or maybe for the rest of the day (good luck)

Freddy isn’t so jolly in a bad mood and can get quite salty 👀

He WILL tell you off and that would lead to roasting each other or arguing so I wouldn’t advise doing certain things but over all he can be pretty layed back

Just laugh and enjoy your time with him and he will make all your dreams come true 😉

Billy Loomis (Ghostface)

Now Billy is kinda like Michael I’m certain ways except he isn’t so introverted

Billy can get quit possessive with you especially when he’s jealous

Sometimes he doesn’t even trust Stu with you and wants to be by your side so no one try’s anything

Billy can get quite scary when he’s angry and gets tagged crazy look in his eye talking on and on about how you shouldn’t do that it’s against the rules in a horror movie

Speaking over horror movies Billy loves horror movies and I mean LOVES them he could ramble about them all day to you if you’d like

Billy has seen them all and probably tell you every detail of what happened in the move “Okay Billy I-think that’s enough” is what you would say if he got too detailed about the killing

Billy for one is also a major tease his signature smirk on his face as he walks over to you

Billy can get Riled riled up pretty easily and sometimes doesn’t mind you being a tease too he kinda likes it gets him going even more

Billy can be kinky just a bit so don’t be surprised if he asks you try something new with him

Bubba sawyer

Oh sweet bubba wouldn’t know what to do with someone so cute and kind as you

He would try to hide you from drayton and chop top as much as he can only to fail and then not taking a liking to you so easily as bubba did

If your willing to help them then welcome to the family! They will have you doing certain chores around the house like washing dishes and cleaning

Bubba doesn’t like that you do though he think shouldn’t have to lift a finger ‘Here Y/n let me do it’ he would insist

Bubba is to kind sometimes and doesn’t wanna see you get hurt by anything or anyone so if he is working with sharp objects don’t come near him

Bubba is afraid to hurt you and wouldn’t forgive himself if he did

He doesn’t wanna lose you because of his carelessness but bubba is hardworking man and will get what needs to be done first so he’s not so careless

Bubba won’t like if anyone hits on you and your talking back it will lower his confidence..he will think you want them and they are better

That being said you will have to reassure him you aren’t going to leave him

Just praise him!

He deserves it

Thomas Hewitt

Unlike bubba Thomas here is a bit more rougher and buffer than bubba

Though Thomas looks intimidating and he DEFINITELY is Thomas has a soft spot for you

Unlike his victims he won’t put you on a meat hook or slice and dice you basically butcher you

Thomas would want to protect you from any sort of danger that being said he was hesitant to show you to the family “Ah Thomas I see you brought some dinner”

Thomas doesn’t trust his family with you for obviousl reasons..and Tex hitting on you is a MAJOR no no for him

Thomas wouldn’t hesitate or hurt somebody over you just one bad look and BOOM there dead and well..dinner is served

Thomas doesn’t like for you to come down in the basement where all the sharp objects and meat are he thinks you will get hurt down there

But he won’t protest if you come down there to give him some lovin’ 😉

Luda May would wonder when grand kids will come along as Thomas would instantly blushed under the half mask on his face

Speaking of which it will take time for him to take off the mask like the others (Sorry forgot to mention that in Michaels)

You have to respect his privacy for the time being

Just be patient and then you will be met will a handsome Thomas Hewitt!

Chucky

Human or not he’s the same he can be quite cocky at times but like Freddy he has a good sense of humor

Be mindful he is a handful to deal with at times and can get on your nerves if mistreated

DO NOT CALL HIM A BABY

You will regret it if you do so this man/doll with come at you within seconds if you do call him that

Don’t worry about Tiffany if he loves you he won’t do or try anything but do keep an eye on him he’s not fully loyal

Now chucky will get sexual at times and doesn’t really get too shy on saying it “I don’t know about you but I’m starting to feel like pinko here”

Marriage is out of the picture for a while!!

He can get too focused on his plans that talks relationship at times so try to spend or do things together to get him off of other things

Tiffany

Tiffany is like chucky in certain ways but is most definitely loyal “You know me I’ll kill anybody but..I only sleep with someone I love”

Doesn’t matter your gender really and tiff doesn’t really care for looks so if your insecure..be prepared to be pampered on

Marriage and love is very important to her so don’t break her heart or its gonna get violent

Tiffany can get kinky so if your not into dark things and bondage then she might not be the one for you BUT tiff is very understanding so just tell her

Just love her and she will be yours forever

Be good though tiff likes good people “all the good guys are taken”

Slahserapples

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suffering-and-happy-about-it · 4 years

Text

Secrets and small talks (White Demon’s Love Song, Part 6.)

Series description: A new job was what the reason you found yourself on a lonely roadtrip on the western coast, ending up in the woods of Olympian Peninsula. Yet a sudden car malfuction was what cause your unplanned stay in Forks. To your surprise, there was a lot of sinister things going on under the veil of fog.

Part summary: The secret was finally out - many questions were about to be answered. Yet no-one said it will be enjoyable for either of you.

A/N: Okay, I am 100% positive that Seth would believe there’s something wrong with Jacob before realizing that she just means the wolf thing (IT’S JUST A WOLF THING). Also, I am sorry (not sorry) for the lenght of this part, but I got a bit carried away.

Tagging: @missdictatorme

Word count: 5.5 K

Twilight playlist: ✨ Twilight Crackheads ✨

Series masterlist: H E R E

The wolf turned around to look at what caused the loud thud behind him. His blood froze in his veins when he realized what was he looking at - you've been laying on the damp, hard, and ice-cold ground. He could smell it in the next second - the iron-like, dry smell in the air. The vampires would most likely describe the smell as sweet, just lovely - yet Jacob's stomach was turning upside down as he felt it. No - you didn't hit your head so bad you'd be bleeding out. There was just a small amount of blood dripping out of a small wound on your forehead, the drops were slowly soaking into the soil. Jacob wasn't panicking, he was just surprised to find you there - you were just fine, your breath didn't even hitch, he could still feel the warmth coming out of you, your heart was beating steadily. Don't worry, you were just fine.

But Seth, who saw the view through Jacob's eyes, started to panic at the sight of your unconsciousness - while Jake found the expression very funny, the boy started to freak out. - 'Jacob, help her, why are you staring at her?!' - Seth cried out to both Jake and Quil's heads, he wasn't sure about what was happening. - 'Jacob can't change back now, Seth. She's bleeding a bit, what if the leeches will smell it?' - At that, Seth breathed out; Jacob and Quil felt the decision Seth made the very moment the boy realized it himself. In the next moment, he was running to meet Jacob just to help him. - 'Seth, don't leave your position!' - At the same time, Quil took a deep breath and howled loudly for the others to know something had happened.

The members of Sam's pack and Jacob's pack couldn't hear on the same wave - only Jacob and Sam themselves could communicate. Every time something unexpected happened, a member of either pack howled and changed into their human form to describe the issue. It was extremely time consuming and also a bit exhausting, but they didn't have a better solution.

It was too late for Quil to stop Seth from running your way. Jacob's bitterness could be felt in the mental web, yet he didn't tell a word - he just watched the perimeter, ran around, and made sure that any of the bloodsuckers was after you. While Seth was on his way and Jake already looked around, he started to move you around. If you'd be awake, he knew you'd freak out - his teeth bit on the cap of his raincoat as he dragged you closer to the garage, not having a problem with lifting you. The tops of your feet were sometimes touching the ground as Jacob scampered around in the direction of Forks. Thank God, you were barely a minute away when taken from a wolf's point of view.

Suddenly, Jacob couldn't tell what Seth was thinking, neither he could see what Seth was seeing - which meant just that Seth was close. And soon, the huge animal turned its head at him. It was looking quite funny, seeing Jacob running around with you hanging out of his mouth... Without a context, it would sure make Seth laugh hard. - "Hey, Jake." - Seth mumbled and tried to flatten you inside his arms. - "Let go of the cap, I have her. Jacob. She won't fall to the ground. She's breathing... I can hear her heartbeat. It seemed that she did something to her brain for a moment." - And there Seth was, rambling about a ton of stuff that meant... Nothing.

If he'd stop himself from acting up, just for a second, he'd know that you were alive the whole time. Jacob heard you breathing and your heart beating... Before Seth brought it up. And seeing the way the wolf was staring at Seth, the boy immediately knew he did something wrong. But Seth didn't care at all - he just moved your body in his arms a bit, smiling at you. - "Don't worry. I'll stay here and make sure Y/N's good, okay?" - The sunshine boy grinned at Jacob. - "Maybe some of them will appear here... They've been here before and now, there's the stench of blood in the air." - Slowly, Seth walked backward to the door leading inside the house, letting Jacob disappear between the trees.

Seth has done just like he told Jacob he would - the boy made sure to tug you into the big, super-warm blanket after taking the coat and boots off. Like a nurse, he cleaned your forehead with disinfection, taping it together with white medical tape. While happily strolling around the flat, Seth turned on some of the heating, made sure the place will be ventilated, and... Because Seth was Seth, when there was nothing left to do, he started to clean around - doing the laundry, folding clothes... When Seth was done and looked around the place with a satisfied smile, you wouldn't know that you were at this place before.

Jacob... He was a messy person. He was one. The whole flat was the perfect reflection of said behavior. And you weren't there to change that - most of the time, you even weren't inside the flat, for the love of God - at least, he was doing the dishes and his bathroom was tidied up and smelled very nice. It was all you could ask from a person who had offered you a stay at their place in exchange for buying the food. Yet after Seth spending an hour there, the flat turned into a place you hadn't seen before - the boy swept both the dust and the floors, he tidied the sofa from all of the dry soil and carefully re-arranger a fluffy blanket over it so it would be looking presentable. When Seth was done with the flat, he made sure the door to the guest room is opened, just before he sat down to watch some TV. He made sure to listen to the rhythm of your breath - before he fell asleep himself. The boy had an undoubted skill of falling asleep everywhere and anytime, snoring almost unison with how you breathed. The boy was a light sleeper, he'd sure wake up if he'd heard something he would not perceive as 'normal'. Just like when you started to stretch in the bed, growling unpleasantly.

The dream you had was... Fucking crazy. You dreamed about walking to the woods behind Jacob, following him around. At one point, the man stopped - you did so too, watching him, hidden behind a tree. You remembered that in your dream, it was raining and it was pretty darn cold. Your breath hitched as you watched Jacob falling on his knees, grunting in pain. And then he turned into a fucking wolf. Into a huge, unnatural wolf. Jacob was nowhere to be seen. With that, you woke up - just as your head hit a root which was peeking out of the ground.

Your breath was above normal rhythm as you sat up and looked around to understand where you were. Fuck. You were just in your bad and this was just a bad dream. Jacob was most likely on his late-night walk and you fell asleep instead of following him. There was something wrong with your blood pressure because the room was gently smudged in your peripheral vision and it was shaking a bit. The colors weren't right either. And why was the pillow full of dirt?

Trying to shake the strange headache, you gently smoothed your temple, just to hiss at the feeling. Fuck. Your head hurt as if someone took you out with a damn frying pan. Was this Jacob's found? Without a problem with recognizing the material, you brushed over pieces of medical tape with your fingertips, wondering at what the hell had happened. You didn't remember hitting your head anywhere, this didn't make sense. Or, maybe, the dream...

"Hey, there!" - A young boy exclaimed in a happy tone. He was standing in the doorframe, shirtless, having a grin on his face. Who on Earth was this? And why wasn't he properly dressed for the cold weather? There was a strange tattoo on his shoulder and... He wasn't wearing any boots. Yet his feet, when compared to Jacob's, were nicely clean. - "Nice to see you up and well. Name's Seth, I volunteered to take care of you while Jake's off." - Without any further explanation, he offered you his palm. Confusedly, you held it in yours while the boy did the shaking. - "I have two simple questions. Why aren't you wearing a reasonable amount of clothes and why is there tape on my forehead?" - Seth was kind of surprised when you didn't ask something like 'also, why did Jake turn into a huge ass animal in front of my very eyes?'. Either you didn't connect the dots yet, or you knew something about all of this.

"Oh, sorry. I'll borrow a shirt if it makes you uncomfortable," - Seth smiled even more widely than before, disappearing for a bit before he put on an old, flannel shirt he borrowed from Jacob's closet. It didn't even cross his mind that he's not properly dressed. Most of the La Push boys just walked around shirtless for the most part. It was kinda nice to talk to someone... Normal. - "But my physical temperature is a bit higher than yours. I won't get cold... And I don't feel cold. I haven't felt cold for the last couple of years." - Seth explained to you as if you were supposed to know what the hell he's talking about. Most of his friends were used to his happy ramblings, but you weren't local. Seth was a stranger to you - and for the dearest God, you didn't know what was his point. - "And the medical tape? Oh, don't worry, I cleaned the blood and the wound first. It was a horror to get it out of your hair, I tell you that. I was worried that I might just... You know... Tear some hair off your scalp. Jake neither would be too happy about that." - Tearing hair off your hair? What was the boy on about? You were just as confused as before the boy started answering your questions. Maybe even a bit more.

Even though he answered both the questions, he hadn't told you anything. Maybe he was being dodgy, maybe he just really didn't know he's rambling about nonsense. Honestly, you couldn't tell. - "I was bleeding?" - "Well, not like bleeding... It was a few drops here and there, but it stuck around the wound and then it kinda dripped down your face." - Seth answered with an honest smile. Okay, so he just wasn't aware of misleading you even more, cool. Now you knew. - "And I hurt myself... Or..?" - You needed to be more direct with the questions to get a proper answer out of the boy. - "Oh, yeah, you fainted in the woods and fell on a root, that's what happened." - Oh, so that was why the dirt was in the bed. And why your forehead was taped together carefully. Sure. And that also meant...

Seth could heart your heartbeat picking up and your breath getting irregular as you realized something. Suddenly, your hormonal balance had changed as your body started to sweat. You were stressed. And also, this was the reaction you should show before. - "Seth, you need to help me." - You mumbled, climbing out of the bed. The room suddenly spun around and you barely stood on your feet - the boy's arms caught you and he carefully helped you stand straight. - "At first, I thought that Jacob is a killer. Don't ask me why I just got that vibe." - What the hell were you now on about? Seth watched you packing your stuff in a state of total panic, you were running around the room, picking every piece of clothing you could find. You didn't care what will you leave there, you needed to run away as soon as possible. - "A killer?" - The boy answered with confusion - suddenly, you pushed all the clothes you found into his arms, picking up the rest. Where was the bag, goddamnit?

"But it's worse, much, much, MUCH worse." - "It is?" - He asked back and for a moment, you managed to get him distressed as well. Seth was one of the people you shouldn't be having this type of conversation with at all. Even if Seth knew about every thought that ever went through Jacob's brain, he was now on the same ship of panic as you. - "What is he, then?" - "Trust me, if I'd tell, you'd think I'm crazy. And we don't want that. I'll take you out of there with me, what do you say? We can... We can try to ring at Charlie? Jacob always leaves his keys in the car, so the tow truck is a fairly good chance." - Your brain started to put together a situation. The chaos was too much for both of you - for a moment, Seth was thinking about actually escaping with you from the menace that Jake was supposed to be in your eyes. - "He can... He can... He can..." - Slowly, you looked him in the eyes, trying to get the words out. The boy was hanging on your lips with his eyes, curious to hear about what the hell Jacob was. - "He can turn into a wolf. I saw that with my eyes and I swear I'm not crazy. You need to trust me on this, Seth." - At that moment, every sign of suspense in Seth's face faded away as a grin replaced it. Oh, okay, so this was the late response Seth was expecting when you've woken up. - "What are you grinning at? I didn't lose my marbles! We need to go, now! Or he comes back, turns into that... That animal and tears us apart!"

"I know you're not crazy." - Seth whispered carefully, which made you stop for a moment as you looked into his face, searching for hints of sarcasm or something like that. You thought that maybe, Seth will tell you that you hit your head too badly or something like that. - "And I know that... Because I can do that too." - What was he saying? Was he also walking to the woods in the late night, turning himself into an animal at will? That couldn't be... Again, the room around you spun - one time, two times, three times... The third time, you've been already laying on the bed, passed out. The man let you lay there for a second as he put your clothes back in place. This time, you've been quicker to wake up.

It didn't take you even five minutes to gain consciousness and this time, you did not doubt in your mind about what happened. As soon as you heard someone standing next to the bed, your eyes flew open as you gathered to stand up on the bed, trying to get away from Seth, who was standing there with a glass of water and a small smile. One of your hands rose high to keep Seth away from you, but the boy wasn't on planning at all. - "If you'll come just a step closer, I am going to scream." - Yeah, who would hear that? It was your last defense. Your phone was in the raincoat you've borrowed from Jacob, Seth was standing next to the door and... You could still jump out of the window, but it was pretty high, to be honest. You could hurt yourself pretty bad if you'd be considering jumping out and you would not run too far if you'd break your leg. - "Be careful and reasonable, come on. You hurt your head pretty bad." - The boy seemed to be nice, yet it could easily just a mascarade. Just when he mentioned your head, the whole room spun and you had to support yourself by putting your palm against the wall.

Jumping out of the window suddenly seemed like an even worse idea than before. - "I think you might have a concussion, so, can you just sit down?" - Seth stepped forward and in response to that, you started to wave your hands around more wildly than before. The boy grunted in frustration, rolling his eyes back. For the most part, you've been acting like the child out of you two. After calculating the situation once more, you told yourself it might be better to co-operate. For now. Until you get a better view of the flat door. Just as you were climbing down the bed, the room spun again. Great, so now, you had a fairground amusement just from walking around. - "Will you let me go?" - You asked quietly once you've given up on any resistance. Without any further theatrics, you took the glass from Seth and even the painkiller coming with it.

"It's not safe out there... Listen, no-one's holding you here against your will, but it wouldn't be smart to leave now." - That was all he could say without giving away too much. Seth couldn't just straight away tell you that most probably, you're on the vampire menu now and that they will have a hard time trying to get you out of that trouble. Not like he couldn't talk about it, he just didn't want to give you more reason to go into a full tantrum. - "Why? Are there wolves in the woods?" - You grinned at your own, not-so-funny joke. It didn't make Seth even smile. - "There's something... Different out there. So, please, just don't do anything unplanned, dumb, or dangerous. Jake wouldn't thank me if you'd just do a bunk." - "He asked you to keep an eye for me?" - Then, there was the question if Jacob just wanted to keep you in the flat or if something was lurking in the woods for real. Both answers sounded more or less probable to you.

"Well... Not entirely, I volunteered to be here. I would be grateful if you'd just... Tried not to do anything crazy. Jacob should be back by six, he decided to do a longer one today." - And with that, Seth let you be with your thoughts alone, which was worse than when he stuck around and stared you down like a baby, that was dangerous to everyone. After the conversation ended, he was highly reluctant to tell you any information - he kept telling you that Jacob should be the one talking you through it when he was the one you've seen... Doing it. Not even when you circled a different conversation back to the topic - Seth was smarter than just giving you what you wanted.

In the meantime, you've cooked something for yourself and Seth, you even went as far as to let something for Jacob as well. Precisely at six o'clock, Seth's head turned in the direction of the forest as he got up from the couch and simply... Disappeared. You could hear a long, painful howl, but you couldn't bring yourself to move. You just closed all of the windows and curtains, hiding under your blanket on the couch. The whole time, you've been watching some animal planet, until you simply fell asleep. It was Sunday and the garage would've been closed anyway. After some super-long document about mantises, you've fallen asleep - in that state, any danger was lurking behind the windows and you've been safe, laying on the couch.

Jacob came home late that day - Seth was nowhere to be found, which was understandable. Sam has found one of the vampires and tried to catch it... Embry, of course, ran after Sam to support him - yet the leech, it was a man this time, was quicker than them and broke Embry's leg. Embry, being the fighter he was, twitched the man's palm. That sure as hell won't make the bloodsuckers happy. The palm was now burned to ashes, yet it was almost 100% sure that the vampires will come for their revenge soon. And honestly, instead of talking to you, he slept under the trees, in the cold outside, just to make sure the confrontation will wait for a bit.

As a means of reconciliation, Jacob brought you some take-out from the steak, just like you talked about it - and there was a momentary relief when he found you dead asleep while watching a David Attenborough documentary about ants. All it took was to wait for a bit - and while you slept, he decided to work on your car again. The sooner it would be done, the sooner you could leave the town. It wasn't too hard for you to understand Jacob was back and working again - the noise was undeniable. You crept behind him, your face was colorless and you didn't feel good at all while doing it... But you two needed to talk - the sooner, the better.

"Good to see that you're... Human again." - You could hear him freak out under the car - his forehead banged the chassis with a loud bang and after a moment, Jacob rolled out with a violet bruise above his eye. - "I didn't know you were spying on me." - "You're doing weird, suspicious stuff and expect it to go unnoticed? No way in hell." - At this accusation, Jacob put his arms crossed over his chest, sending a raster nasty gaze. - "If I remember correctly, I'm not the one who thinks I am a serial killer and I don't stalk you when you want to be alone." - For a moment, you were opening and closing your mouth, trying to figure out some kind of an answer. Yet solid got a solid argument. - "I'm sorry, but you have more than six feet, you're not a very nice person and sometimes, you're kind of weird. I thought you were a serial killer and it turns out you can turn into a wolf! That's some Harry Potter shit right here, come on. I don't know which one's worse." - "Like you aren't. Who meets someone for the first time and immediately goes 'That guy will kill me the first chance he gets'?" - "I'm just paranoid!" - You exclaimed all over the garage and looked Jacob in the eyes. Heavy rain started outside as you stared each other down. The silence was intense.

"I suppose you'd like to know more... About what you've seen, huh? Now you've seen it, there's no point in hiding things." - Jacob sighed as he wiped his dirty hands in a rug, his expression and stare were blank. - "Yeah, that would be nice." - A similar blank sigh left your lips. When you were on your way up, you've picked up some of the papers declaring all the gigs he had done, since you've been mistreating your work in the last couple of days. The man left the TV play while he heated the food he brought from the steakhouse, putting it on the small table in his living room/kitchen. Your eyes sometimes slipped to a documentary about lions and their prey as you chewed on the food. It took Jacob quite some time to start the conversation. - "So, what are you interested in? I mean... Regarding the wolf things?" - "That's what you call it?" - You fired back instantly, not even looking away from the TV. The food was tasty - it would've been even better if you'd just eat it right after Jacob brought it.

"Yeah, that's how we call it. I thought you've been dying to know more." - It was a subtle callout, yet it didn't make you even furrow. - "If Seth had told you so, he had been lying like a pre-schooler. You shouldn't be trusting that boy." - Once again, your eyes had barely left the TV screen. A small sting of the past had stabbed him close to his heart as he remembered how... She was eager to learn everything. Your attitude to the unknown was more Charlie-like: the less you knew, the better. - "Okay, okay, okay." - With that, you looked at him. - "How comes that you're a werewolf?" - Suddenly, you were staring him down like an eager interview. And you were saying that Jacob was the one with a split personality disorder?

"That's a start. We were born with it..." - "You and Seth? He told me he can do this tomfoolery as well." - "Not only me and that boy. There are around fifteen werewolves in La Push and Forks now. I can't tell since I've separated from the other pack a long time ago." - The man was talking while eating, so you had slight trouble understanding everything he had to say. - "That's quite a number. Everyone's as big as you or..?" - "No. Most of them are smaller." - For a moment, you've been just eating. - "Are you going to hurt me? Or other people? Or... What does a normal wolf do in these woods? This town, no offense, doesn't look like a place where shit would be going down." - Now, it was Jacob, who looked away from you for a second.

This was his chance to repent, to show you that he isn't the killer you thought the whole darn time. But... Should he tell you about vampires? He knew how paranoid you were. Knowing about the unnatural situation Forks found itself in might won't do the best for you. On the other hand... Maybe you'd finally believe something is happening and therefore, you wouldn't try to escape. Seth showed the whole pack how did the night at Jake's looked like making the others laugh uncontrollably, Maybe, you would finally believe that he's not that insane. - "We would never hurt people... Voluntarily. That's not what the Protectors are here for," - "You call yourself the Protectors? What?!" - At that, you started to laugh. It was so loud that Jacob widened his eyes in surprise. - "What kind of boyband name is that? Holy fuck!" - You got out of yourself whilst crying from laughing so hard.

Jacob was looking at you the whole time, waiting for you to stop laughing - but in the end, you've been laughing so long that it made him smile as well. - "It's a name Sam came up with. You'll get used to it, eventually." - "So, Sam's a member of your boyband?" - At that, Jacob rose is eyebrows as he thought of the answer, but right after that, he shook his head. - "No. He's the leader of the other pack. I have one and he has one." - "But what are you protecting this sleepy town from? From having fun? From sunny weather? From warm days?" - Sure, now, you were joking, but something in his face told you to take it just a bit more seriously. There was this... Blank, subtle flame inside his eyes as his expression went flat again. - "The cold ones." - Jacob said. At first, you thought that he might be joking - but... He turned into a huge animal in front of your very eyes. Maybe, just maybe, he wasn't making things up. - "Will you tell me who are the cold ones? Never heard of them."

"You're wrong. You already heard of them, everyone did. Bram Stoker did, the movie directors did... Let it go through your head. Who's werewolf's natural enemy, hm?" - You did know which mythical creature Jacob was talking about, but come on - it felt so dumb to say it out loud. A smile slowly crept on your face as you grinned - rather than answering, you've been concentrated on stabbing your steak with a fork. - "I know you know who am I talking about..." - Jacob whispered as if he was just asking you not to sit there in silence. - "The thing in the woods, the one chasing me... That wasn't a mountain lion, was it? The cats don't jump that high up on a tree. It was a cold one." - Dear Lord, you refused to say the word 'vampire' out loud. It felt stupid to even thinking of that. Inside your mind, you've been saying the word again, again, and again, but your mouth couldn't make the sound because of its utter stupidity. - "That was why you let me drive to Charlie, wasn't it? And then to La Push. Does he know?" - "Bits and pieces here and there. The less he knows, the better." - Jacob admitted quietly. That was why Charlie told you to call him as soon as something would be happening.

"And La Push? I don't believe that Charlie Swan, the police chief, is some secret... Vam-pi-re slayer." - Ugh, the word didn't want to leave your mouth on its own, goddammit. - "I was born in La Push. You can call it werewolves' natural habit because most of us are the children of mythical, legendary Quileute chiefs, who could turn into their spirit animals... And then to wolves." - "Wow. But why was I meant to go there?" - You asked again. Oh, you didn't catch what Jacob was saying... Never mind. - "It's the smell. It's the strongest in that location, quite literally soaked in it because we live there." - "The smell?" - With that, you took in a huge load of air to your lungs, smelling only the freshly cooked food. It hadn't done anything to you, but it made Jacob relax a bit more. - "Our smell, not yours. To a leech, the wolves smell like... A wet dog. But for them, it's almost unbearable. They can stay in our company only if they are a bit used to it." - "And what about them? Can you... Smell the cold ones too?" - And this was the moment Jacob understood you've been wrapped inside the conversation and its topic.

"Yes, naturally. It's like... Damn rotten tomato. It's so sweet, but it smells like a burnt body at the same time." - "Do I smell like that?" - It was a genuine question in combination with a genuine tone which made Jacob roar with laughter now. - "Of course you don't smell like that. You're human. Dear Lord." - Once again, you took in some smell and smiled at the man. - "Well, you don't smell like wet dog to me either... I can smell a bit of soil, something woody... A bit of orange... And sweat and oil. You need a shower, man." - "Flowers and something sweet. But your smell is nice." - Jacob answered immediately, now he was looking at the TV screen. Suddenly, he was the one stabbing his mashed potatoes with a nervous expression. Of course, he smelled your scent, hell, the workshop and the flat, especially the bathroom, and the guest's room were full of you. Literally.

"Thanks, I guess. So... Tell me more about the wolf thing, will you?" - It didn't seem that you're scared when you smiled at the man, cutting another bite from your steak. Honestly, you've spent a few hours sitting at the table, just talking about the werewolves. Jake told you some of their legends, why did they turn, what did even mean to be a werewolf. - "And are all the cold ones bad? I mean, do you have to kill all of them? I think..." - A quick growl escaped your lips. - "I think I know they did something to Bella." - At the sound of her name, Jacob visibly stiffened and for a moment, it seemed that the conversation was over. - "No. Some of them try not to kill humans. Like the Cullens." - The man muttered out the name with the biggest amount of self-denial you've ever seen on anyone. - "They're what happened to Bella. And don't bring her up ever again, I don't want to talk about her."

"But the ones that are in the woods now... They are bad, right?" - You changed the topic quickly. So... Bella became a vampire? Was she now hanging from the ceiling, did she have fangs? Was that why they broke up? Was the man on the photo also a vampire? And the small girl, presumably their daughter, who the hell was she? - "They are bad, yes, that's all you need to know." - But that wasn't everything. And you weren't stupid to figure it out on your own. The bad vampires were hunting you, they knew you were a human... Which meant that they won't let you be until you'd leave Forks... Maybe not even after that. They will try to harm you, and not only you - they won't stop until the wolves will kill them.

Now, you understood that the wolves weren't bad as it seemed at first sight. But you still needed to get used to the idea that person with whom you've been sharing your living place for some time now was a mythical creature. You wanted to know more... As you thought about it, you started to bite your lip, which made Jacob look at you once more. - "Something else on your mind?" - It made you jump on your chair as you got back to reality. - "Yes... Do you think you could... You could show me what happened again?"

#seth clearwater #seth being a sunshine baby boy he always is #jacob black #jacob black x reader #IT'S A WOLF THING #twilight saga #the twilight saga #twilight renaissance #twilight crackheads #sam uley #la push #forks washington #charlie swan #the man and the legend charlie swan #HE KNOWS #OH LORD HE KNOWS

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starlightinhumanform · 5 years

Text

The Art of Love: Chapter 10

Fandom: She Ra (2018)

Ship: Glimadora

Summary: It’s chemistry again and Adora is missing, leaving Glimmer to wonder where she is. Glimmer has to face Weaver, Cat, and her feelings by herself.

Warnings (for this chapter): Some descriptions of mild emotional distress/anxiety, Mild language (please tell me if anything needs to be added)

Genre: High School AU, Angst with a Happy Ending, Rivals/Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Fluff

A/N: As always, all notes mean so much to me (especially reblogs). I always love getting feedback and questions so feel free to drop a comment, send an ask, or add something in the tags! Hope you enjoy my dears~ Love you all 🖤✨

Ao3 The Art of Love Masterpost Fic Masterpost Fic Request Info

Glimmer’s feet shuffled on the laminate tiles as she dragged herself to fourth period. She could tell by the quickly thinning crowd that the passing period was almost over. She couldn’t bring herself to move faster- or to actually care. She had fallen asleep in her last period and had been forced to scribble down the half an hour of notes she had missed in the last three minutes of class- and then a minute or two of passing after that.

Her mind was a fog and the only lamp that occasionally shone through the dense clouds was a grumble of frustration. Glimmer couldn’t decide if she should blame her sleep deprivation on Ms Weaver or if it was better to somehow twist the situation onto Adora. Her brain suggested the third option of it being her damn fault for being so distracted the whole night and spending so much time on being a drama queen instead of actually doing work.

Glimmer let out a huff as the bell screeched. She glared at the door down the hall, behind which Weaver was almost surely cackling out some Disney villain laugh as she marked Glimmer late.

A large part of her was highly tempted to turn around and spend the entire period lurking in a corner of the art studio. She had dropped off the model that morning (By some miracle, Weaver hadn’t been there) so Adora could still present it and get points for them.

She stopped walking and tapped her fingers against her thigh. It was only a ten foot walk to the class but, god, at what cost?

She was jarred into movement by a security guard speeding past her on a bicycle. He was shouting at the empty hallway- something about, “COME ON PEOPLE, KEEP MOVING,”- as if he were policing Times Square and not just Glimmer as she slouched her way past the empty row of monotonous doors.

Glimmer huffed and sludged forward, pausing to glare at the disappearing guard before wrenching the door open.

“Glimmer you’re-“

“Late, I know,” she grumbled the inevitable end of Weaver’s sentence.

Glimmer could feel Weaver’s raised eyebrow without even looking up.

“Keep doing this and you’ll get-“

“Detention. I know.”

The other students were watching the exchange like they were waiting for a bomb to go off- tick tock tick tock. Glimmer was sure that if it were just her and Weaver, the woman may have actually lost it and begun screaming at her.

She settled into her seat, resolved not to let Weaver bother her today. She was too tired to give a shit.

Weaver paused before conceding to simply shake her head and move towards the middle of the room.

Glimmer hazarded a glance upward only to see Weaver surveying the room with a wicked grin, hands pressed together like a praying mans’; as if she was showing off the wicked red claws of her nails. It made Glimmer sick.

“So class, I have a surprise for you,” Smug, purred, smooth with jagged edges; Weaver reminded Glimmer of obsidian as the woman soaked in the sounds of hopelessness coming from her students, “I’ll be checking your projects today to see what you have done!”

The class groaned in unison and the girl in front of Glimmer began whisper yelling at her partner across the room- as if that could do them any good now. Glimmer would have rolled her eyes if they didn’t feel so heavy.

“I know, it isn’t wonderful?!” Weaver’s shark-toothed grin widened as she acknowledged her doomed class.

Glimmer felt bad for the kids in the room who didn’t have a hyperactive, annoyingly insistent partner who had in on Weaver’s evil plans- so basically everyone else.

Now that Glimmer was thinking about it, she hadn’t seen said ball of energy when she had walked in. She turned and was surprised to see Adora’s seat glaringly empty. Glimmer fought back against the wave of disappointment that hit her. It’s not like this was a completely bad thing- it meant that Glimmer would actually be able to concentrate. And Weaver would be more likely to give Glimmer credit for her work instead of immediately assuming Adora had done all of it. So yeah, it was all good. Except... She said she’d see me at school...

Glimmer internally sighed at her own pathetic foolishness; she was getting way too soft.

She allowed herself another glance back, as if Adora would’ve suddenly appeared there in the three second break between her stares.

Another wave hit her, this time a cascade of apprehension. Adora was not the type to skip class and Glimmer’s mind was quick to fill the fog in her head with worries. What if something happened to her? What if she passed out? What if she passed out because I kept her up all night? What if she got hit by a car? What if I hit her my car?? Wait no... I don’t have a car. But what if she’s trying to avoid me?

Glimmer’s mind slapped its hand down on a proverbial bell- Yep! She’s try to avoid you!

Glimmer could feel the sensation of sickness growing in her stomach and rising to her chest. She wanted to bury her had in her hand as a stupid emotional groan began clawing its way up her vocal cords.

“Hey, Glimmer,” A snarky voice purred above her.

Glimmer growled as she looked up into Cat’s smirk, “What do you want?”

Cat gave an over the top pout, complete with big eyes and crinkled forehead, “Why, I just wanted to make sure you were ok.”

“I’m fine; leave me the hell alone,” Glimmer spat.

“All right, all right. You just looked a little,” Cat waggled her fingers, which only added to the insult of her airy, pretentious voice, “dazed-out there.”

Glimmer was suddenly aware of the movement around her- nearly everyone was already sat down with their partners or were at least taking a seat as she looked around.

“Also, I kinda need that seat,” Cat wrinkled her nose at Glimmer and pointed at the chair she was in.

Glimmer turned her head and to the side to see Cat’s partner Scylar beaming at her. Scy was a tall-ass wrestler with a loud punk style; if Glimmer’s brain was dazed enough to somehow skip over Scy throwing herself in the seat next to her (the girl never did anything without enthusiasm), then Glimmer had to be really out of it.

She stumbled out of her chair to move out of the way, “Oh right... I’ll just- move to the back then, I guess.”

Cat waggled her fingers in a wave as she slipped gracefully into Glimmer’s chair, “See ya later.”

Glimmer blinked at the girl for a second before realizing she had froze again. She took a step back, just trying to remember how to move. See ya later... see ya. See ya.

The words bounced around in her head like the little metal ball in a pinball machine- dink, dink, dink. Every time they hit the walls of her skull, I knew conspiracy dawned upon her. What if she knows that Adora was with me last night? Dink. What if she’s trying to get revenge? Dink. What if she told Adora not to come to class? Dink. What if Cat knows I, well that I, you know, abut, you know, Adora. The thought made a little ding! sound this time before ricocheting back even stronger.

“Uh, Glimmer?” The arch in Weaver’s eyebrow was sharp enough to cut a steak with.

She blinked again, bringing her eyes into focus. She had made her way to the back of the classroom but had failed to actually take a seat. Looking around, the seemingly the entire room had eyes on her. Her face burned and she lowered herself into the nearest seat. Adora’s seat.

Adora should have been there; Glimmer needed Adora to be there. Glimmer felt pathetic in every sense of the word. Only a few days ago, she had wanted to keep as much distance between her and Adora as possible. And now she was useless without her. It was strange and it was wrong and it shouldn’t have been happening but there she was, simmering within herself as the class moved forward without her. She needed the assurance that letting Adora in was the right thing to do, that she hadn’t scared Adora off. She needed the simple hope that Adora didn’t hate her. Why shouldn’t she? You hated her for months; you called her a lair and a fake. Why shouldn’t she hate you?

Glimmer resisted the urge to grumble at herself to shut up. Sometimes her brain really did deserve to be yelled at, though.

The class was moving again, sifting through the maze of chairs to grab their projects. Glimmer followed suit as best as she could to meld into the crowd this time after the embarrassing space-out that had happened only a couple minutes before.

Ok but consider this. Glimmer rolled her eyes internally as her mind began rambling again. What if she does hate you- so what? You thought that she hated you for a long-ass time; why does it matter so much if she actually does now? It honestly might be a good thing. It’ll help you get over that stupid crush.

She kept moving forward, trying to ignore the words floating around in her head but it was so much easier just to argue back. Was she just adding to the noise? Yes. Was it satisfying to tell the devil in her ear that it was an idiot? Oh definitely. Consider this- you’re the one that’s so obsessed with Adora and maybe if you stopped worrying about her for a second, I could find something else for you to yell at me about for no good reason.

It struck Glimmer just how much Adora had taken over her life; she had spent the whole day thinking and worrying about the girl. She was just a crush after all; it was ridiculous. Ok so Glimmer thought she was gorgeous and funny and smart and definitely the weirdest person she had ever met but in the best way possible? It was crazy to get this obsessed. Glimmer took a deep breath as she lifted her model off the counter, resolved to relax and go about this whole situation like a “normal” person. One problem. She had never crushed this hard on someone before. She had no idea how to act.

She settled back into her seat- Yes, it was her seat; Adora wasn’t here right now and that meant her seat rights were revoked. Glimmer snorted at her sleep-deprived mind as it continued to crack into smaller and increasingly hysterical pieces.

Glancing around, it was clear that the rest of the room was occupied. Weaver was stalking from partner to partner, leering over each of her victims with the sadistic joy that only a high school science teacher could possibly possess. The groups that weren’t being judged were either trying to throw together styrofoam balls or were praying. Glimmer was pretty sure that neither of those would help at that point.

Glimmer decided to take advantage of the surrounding chaos and grabbed her phone from the pocket of her backpack. She opened her conversation to Bow, ready to dump all her problems in her messages and hope she wasn’t blowing up his phone in middle of a test. Oh well, that’s a problem she could deal with later-

Hey hey hey. Ok so I’ve a problem

Well more like a question. But it’s questions about a problem

...hi? What’s going on lmao

You haven’t texted me since you sent me that weirdass text at like two in the morning

What were you even doing up then??

Oh good you are here ;)

What do you mean?? You were up too loser??

Oh my god just tell me what your ~problem~ is

Ok um sooooo

Yes?

SOOOOO

YES

WHAT

Glimmer moved a hand over her mouth to muffle the giggles that were escaping. Bow’s dramatics always made her laugh and she happened to be uncharacteristically bashful about this certain topic.

So I kinda have a big fat crush

The giggles disappeared very suddenly and Glimmer dug her teeth into her bottom lip as she watched the little blinking dots march in their message bubble, waiting for Bow’s response. Fortunately, he didn’t take long to reply. Unfortunately, Glimmer didn’t quite like his answer.

Is it Adora?

Dfydfgdgthkl how??

Look no one hates someone for no reason as much as you hated adora UNLESS you actually love them

Ok so Bow had a point and maybe he was right and she should have realized it earlier, but “love” was taking it several steps too far.

Also that text you sent last night was so lovestruck I could practically see the hearts in your eyes

I literally just said it turned out ok that you gave her my number?? Because YOU were freaking out??

Yes but you said it with love <3 <3 <3

I hate you

And it’s NOT love. I just like her

Sure...

Glimmer very nearly put her phone away with a huff before remembering that she accidentally had a reason for texting Bow to begin with.

Shut up, anyways do you know where Adora is?

Ooo you missing your girlfriend?

Glimmer’s face would burned red even if Bow hadn’t taken the low dig and called Adora her girlfriend. Because that was the dream, right? Because that’s exactly what she wanted but what she could never have. Because Bow didn’t know the ache in her chest, the pain he was causing. Because he was her best friend so he should know what was going on and how much everything had changed. Because she just wanted to tell him everything and ask him what the hell she should do, but there was something keeping her from telling him and maybe if she could just ask for help, she would know how to solve all her problems. And because yes, she missed Adora and the feeling was so much stronger than it should’ve been.

She glanced around herself, positive that someone had seen her face glowing as bright as a stop light. Everyone was preoccupied with their various crises, leaving Glimmer to her own in peace. Unfortunately Weaver was only two rows away and was drawing closer and closer to where Glimmer sat slumped. She would have to finish up her conversation quickly then.

I’m just wondering why she isn’t in class ok? Nothing more

If you don’t know then I’ll find someone else to ask

Jeez ok

Glim I’m sorry for teasing you

But no I don’t know where she is. Sorry :/

Yeah ok. Ttyl my dude

Glimmer let a puff of air escape slowly from her nose as she zipped her phone into its pocket. Her head felt like a bag of bricks tied to the end of her neck, her eyes just as heavy. She was slumped severely in the chair, so low that her shoulder blades were pressing into the middle of the seat and if she scooted forward a couple more inches, she’d probably slip off entirely; the idea of how much her mother would disapprove of her posture almost drew a laugh from Glimmer.

She debated whether or not it was worth it was worth it to fall asleep. Weaver would be standing over her, glaring with disgust in only two minutes or so, and she would therefore be risking whatever humiliation that would come with Weaver’s disgust. But, mmmm, two minutes of sleep? That might be worth it.

Glimmer was just shifting to plant her head on the desk when the classroom door exploded open. In the doorway stood a slightly sweaty Adora beaming, as always, as if she herself were the sun.

All eyes flickered over to her simultaneously, staring with confused and maybe amused expressions. Adora just grinned wider, apparently in response, “Hey everyone!”

Weaver stood up straight, freezing to look Adora up and down. She seemed confused as to what to do next. The girl continued to stand in the doorway for a moment, seemingly completely comfortable in the situation. The edges of her ponytail were frayed with baby hairs sticking up at odd angles that framed her reddened face. Her breathing was heavier than usual and the blades of glass plastered up her legs combined to give the impression that she had come directly from running.

Adora strode forward, “Sorry I was late! Soccer event with all the captains!”

So Cat did know where she was.

“Oh, I guess that’s ok then,” Weaver unfroze but still seemed somewhat unsure as she turned back to what she had been doing before Adora had burst in.

Adora made her way to the back, stopping only to give Cat a small wave, and sat down next to Glimmer. Her eyes were sparkling and the only signs of any sort of sleep deprivation were the dark circles that contrasted sharply with her pale skin tone. Her energy level was no reflection the amount of sleep Glimmer knew she hadn’t gotten

“Hi!”

“...hi?” Glimmer really wasn’t sure what she was supposed to say. That was usual. What was unusual was that Adora seemed to be expecting her to say something.

Adora was sitting next to her and just a minute ago, Glimmer would have sworn that’s exactly what she wanted but now she had doubts. Adora was just so loud. Her energy made white noise roar in Glimmer’s head and her voice thundered in the empty space between Glimmer’s thoughts. And her smile, god her smile, it was the brightest thing Glimmer had seen all day and it made her eye smart; it felt like a hand had gripped the bottom of her heart and was pulling it down, stretching out of shape and digging crescent nail marks into the flesh. That smile was all that she wanted and all that couldn’t live up to.

Adora cocked her head to the side and let the smile drop slightly, looking more like a puppy than ever, “Is something wrong?”

Glimmer shook her head and took the easy option, “Nah I’m just tired.”

“Oh ok,” Adora seemed to debate on something for a second before regaining her grin, “Me too honestly.”

It managed to draw a snort from Glimmer, “Really? I could not tell by the way you came bouncing in here.”

“I had like, way too much sugar. Anyways, what’s going on?” She turned her head from side to side to look around the room and causing her long ponytail to whip in either direction with the momentum.

Glimmer sat up from where she had ducked down to avoid Adora’s weaponized hair, “You were right. Weaver’s going around checking all our projects.”

Adora pumped her fist, moving her elbow towards her body and dramatically sweeping her head forward, eyes closed, as she did. It was undeniably dorky and it was undeniably cute.

“And our project is great,” Adora stared down at the pile of wire and clay that was beginning to look to Glimmer more and more like some strange “aesthetic” torture tool used by a Pinterest girl the 15th century. Of course, Adora was looking at it with the same starry-eyed expression that she always wore when looking at Glimmer’s art.

Glimmer shrugged, “It’s ok, I guess.”

Adora feigned offense, “Excuse me, I put my heart and soul into that clay.”

Glimmer couldn’t help but break down into giggles. She was so tired and Adora was so dumb and Glimmer couldn’t exactly explain why but every joke Adora cracked became the funniest thing she had ever heard.

Adora grinned back at her, “But really, you should give yourself more credit. It turned out great and I know that it’s not thanks to me.”

Ugh, of course she had to go and make it all “wholesome.” Glimmer debated if it was worth it to say something back. It would be so much easier just to brush it off; so much safer. She had already crossed too many lines last night, the only solution was to go back to normal today. But she couldn’t even remember what normal was.

Glimmer glanced down at her hands. She had been unconsciously worrying at her nails and now her cuticles were beginning to turn red. She looked back up at Adora, “Look though... I wouldn’t have been able to get it done without you and I’m actually really glad you insisted on coming over.”

Adora smiled with the brightness and warmth of the sun, “I am too.”

Glimmer was in the process of absolutely melting under Adora’s affections when Weaver stalked to a halt in front of them, effectively freezing her back together, “So, Adora how did it turn out?”

Glimmer turned to Adora, watching her eyebrows scrunch together as confusion slowly drew across her face, “Well Glimmer did most of the work...”

Glimmer was beginning to wonder if this ‘innocent curiosity’ was something Adora put on just for Weaver. She wasn’t stupid, she certainly didn’t actually like Weaver and she had to know that there was something going on between her and Glimmer.

“...so why don’t you talk to her about it?”

The end of Adora’s sentence snapped Glimmer sputtering out of her thoughts, “Wait what? No, sorry?”

Weaver pivoted on her heels to face Glimmer, “Well then, what do you have to say?”

Glimmer glanced at Adora with wide eyes trying to convey the message of What the hell? Why would you do this??

Adora gave an encouraging smile and nodded. Very helpful.

“Um well,” Glimmer dragged her eyes from Adora (who was still giving that somewhat infuriating smile) to Weaver, “It’s a model of bismuth. The particles or painted to look like a sample of bismuth. That’s about it.”

“Very well then,” Weaver sniffed and began leering over the mess of purples and grays.

Glimmer could have sworn Weaver hadn’t been that critically focused on other groups but, then again, she hadn’t really paid much attention to what Weaver had been doing until moments ago.

Weaver continued to glare over the project as Glimmer continued to hold her breath. After far too long, Weaver moved away with nothing more than a “humph.”

As the click click of Weaver’s heels moved to the other side of the room, Glimmer deflated into her normal slump, “I swear she hates me.”

Adora squinted in the direction of their teacher, “I still don’t see why she’s such a bitch to you.”

Glimmer’s eyebrows shot up without her consultation, “I was not expecting you to say anything that... strong.”

Adora shrugged without giving a response, still grimacing towards Weaver- whatever that meant. If it meant anything at all. Maybe it didn’t. Maybe Glimmer was just taking a simple stare to mean way too much. After all, Adora was sleep deprived and apparently coming down from a sugar high. It would make perfect sense for her to space out. So that settled it; Glimmer was reading into too much, that’s all-

“I swear one of these days she’s going to say something shitty to you, and I’m just going to lose it.”

Oh. Glimmer could feel her heart rate spike like it was trying to reach the sky. That sounded nice, that sounded like maybe- just maybe- Glimmer wasn’t reading into it too much. It sounded almost protective and normally that would make Glimmer gag, but somehow this wasn’t normal.

But of course her only reply was to let out a nervous wheeze, “Why on Earth would you do that??”

Adora shrugged again, “I don’t like the way she treats you.”

Glimmer didn’t like the strength in Adora’s eyes. It wasn’t the level of contempt that led to bloodshed, but it was certainly more emotion than Glimmer deserved or would ever ask for. It made her uncomfortable; she didn’t understand why Adora would be so angry about something which, in the long run, probably wouldn’t matter.

She gave another awkward giggle, “It really isn’t a big deal.”

Adora opened her mouth to respond and Glimmer was almost grateful when Weaver began speaking from in front of her desk. Something seemed to switch off in Adora, her expression relaxing as she turned to face the front of the room.

“I can’t say I’m surprised but a lot of you really need to get to work,” Weaver hissed out a tsk noise between her teeth, “You only have a few days left to get this project done. You have about fifteen minutes left in this period and I expect you all to be focused that entire time. All right get to work.”

The class dissolved into noise as chairs were scrapped across the floor and notebooks were grabbed with the fevered terror that can only be inspired by a looming due date.

Adora reached across the desk to open one of the class-set laptops. She brought up the presentation she had been working on yesterday, the same pastel rainbows and soft pink theme. It sparked a strange sort of déjà vu in Glimmer, the exact same situation as yesterday but with so much less hostility. The dissonance was enough to make her head spin, but she couldn’t help but enjoy the difference.

Adora turned her head, mirth poorly concealed in her smirk, “Can I help you?”

Glimmer blinked quickly, suddenly aware that she had spaced out staring at at Adora, “Oh, um, sorry, no. I was just- no I’m fine.”

“You sure?” Adora was very obviously struggling to keep her smirk from dissolving into a full smile. People talk a lot about feeling butterflies in their stomachs but to Glimmer it felt more like a hundred tiny grasshoppers jumping out of time with one another.

She swallowed but her mouth had gone dry and she wasn’t sure when that happened. She tried to piece together a sentence that a normal human would say, “Yeah, um, I’m good. But what about you? Ya know, do you need help with the project or, uh, something?”

Adora seemed to pause for a moment, once again having to switch to a different setting. She looked almost disappointed and Glimmer still didn’t have any idea what was going on.

Then Adora’s face did something else Glimmer was not at all expecting. Her expression lost all of the playful cockiness it had held only a second before, shifting into what Glimmer could only describe as timid- maybe even embarrassed, “Um, yeah, actually. Could you draw some more things for me to use in the presentation?”

Glimmer didn’t understand Adora’s apparent discomfort. She flipped open a sketch book and grabbed a pencil, “Sure; what do you need?”

“Just another a sketch of it unprocessed or something like that would be great!”

Glimmer was beginning to learn that Adora’s stupid sunshine smile was somehow even warmer when you knew you were the one that had caused it.

The next few minutes went by quickly. They sat mostly in silence, both content in their own work. Sometimes Glimmer would glance over, catching Adora staring at what she had been drawing. Every time she did, Adora would give her a tiny sheepish grin before ducking her head away. Every time she did, something unfamiliarly soft would fill her up from her toes to her cheeks that she could tell were turning pink.

When the bell rang, Glimmer argued that the main reason she didn’t want to move was because she was just too tired, but she could tell it was a flimsy excuse of a lie and she hardly even cared.

Adora stood up, looking down once she had grabbed her backpack, “See ya!”

Glimmer sighed as she watched Adora bounce away from her. See ya.

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just-for-cal · 6 years

Text

She’s Jealous - [c.h]

word count: 2885 warnings: swearing summary: (y/n) reads some thirst tweets and gets a bit frustrated

(y/n) loved Calum, she always did and it’s likely that she always will. Especially when she never plans to never act on these feelings.

So it felt unfair to her that she was getting so upset scrolling through Twitter. Dozens upon dozens of fans thirsting over him. The other boys too, but she only had narrowed eyes at the comments directed towards Calum.

“Whatcha lookin’ at?” Luke threw himself over the back of the sofa she was sat on, scooting close to her and looking onto her phone.

The first thing he saw being an all caps message about Ashton’s arms, and something about choking.

“Jesus love, into Ash now are we?” He chuckled, but (y/n) glared at him. “Alright, not in the mood for funny” Luke muttered to himself.

“Have you seen all these?” She asked him in a quiet voice, eyes still trained on her phone as she scrolled.

“Thirst tweets? I look sometimes, some of them are kinda funny”

(y/n) simply hummed, clearly that wasn’t the answer she was looking for.

“What’s got you all worked up? I thought you’d be agreeing with some of ‘em” Luke jabbed (y/n’s) side with his elbow, and she tried to force a smile, but her nerves seeped through.

“Everyone’s just so… so into him,” She explained, and before she could keep reading, Luke took her phone, and closed the app. “I feel like maybe it diminishes my chances even further”

“Your chances? Please, (y/n/n), you’ve got the biggest head start of all chances, it’s less of a chance more of a, eh, hundred percent guarantee”

The girl just rolled her eyes at Luke’s words. He always tried to convince her of how he thought Calum returned her feelings, but she never felt that way. He always seemed glued to their platonic relationship, so she never acted on the feelings she’d harbored for so long.

“I’m not kiddin’ babe,” Luke told her. “Ya should hear what he says about you when you’re not around, he loves to talk about you”

(y/n) blushed, but she still shook her head and took her phone back from his hands.

“Thanks, Luke,” She sighed, and smoothed out her skirt before standing. “Are you coming out tonight?”

“Yeah I’ll tag along,” He said and stood up with her, outstretching his arms. (y/n) chuckled quietly, stepping into his arms and letting him hug her tight. “Besides, I'm already all done up, can’t cancel now”

She was laughing when she pulled away, smiling to see he has in fact put on a shimmery eyeshadow to change up his usual leather jacket and jeans look. Even going so far as to put on his heeled boots.

When she looked away, Calum was coming down the stairs, but he stopped at the bottom and just stared at her. He looked frozen, lips parted, eyes set on her. (y/n) crinkled her brows as though to silently ask if he was alright.

“Wow,” He mumbled, finally walking over to her and his best friend. She still looked confused. “You look amazin’ sunshine”

“Oh,” She chuckled nervously, ducking her head down and pushing her hair behind her ear. Luke rolled his eyes and left the room, unable to handle all the pent up tension that had filled it. “You had me worried there for a sec”

Calum grinned at her, this girl he’d had in his life now for a few years and couldn’t ever get a long enough look at. She was blushing under his gaze, and it only made him smile more.

“You ready for dinner?” He asked, and she nodded, letting him guide her to the front door.

Luke was there waiting, looking at his phone and chuckling to himself. Mike and Ashton were planning to meet them at the restaurant, and we’re probably already there.

“What’s so funny?” Calum asked, and Luke showed him he was on Twitter.

“These thirst tweets about you, they're hilarious”

Calum blinked in surprise, not having expected that response, at all, and looked to (y/n) with raised brows before back at Luke.

“Why...?”

“Cause she was lookin’ at ‘em earlier, and I wanted to know what the big deal was. These are great!”

Calum looked at (y/n) again, a smirk on his lips to know that she’d read thirst tweets about him. But before he could make a cocky comment, Luke spoke up again.

“(y/n/n) you’re in this one,” Luke snickered as he read one, and then proceeded to read it out loud. “It’s a retweet of a pic of Calum, zoomed in on his thighs, and it says ‘@(your handle) sure is one lucky chick, i bet @CalumHood lets her ride his thighs whenever she wants’ can you believe that?”

If she hadn’t been blushing before, she certainly was now.

Luke was laughing his ass off, all the while (y/n) avoided looking directly at Calum, who was staring at her.

“Alright, on that note, let's get going,” Cal suggested, letting Luke out so he could walk with (y/n), his hand resting on the small of her back. When she looked up at him, he leaned a bit closer. “We’ll talk about why you were reading thirst tweets about me later” He told her quietly.

(y/n) winced.

Dinner went by well, besides the fact that Calum had his arm slung around the booth behind (y/n’s) shoulder, his fingertips grazing her shoulder every now and then. But no one said anything about it.

“So, (y/n/n), you comin’ back to the house after dinner?” Ash asked. She began to shake her head, but Calum spoke up for her.

“Yeah, we’re all gonna chill back at the house,” He said, his hand caressing softly over her shoulder now. “Probably watch a movie or something if that sounds good to you guys?”

“Yeah that sounds great” Ashton agreed.

While the other boys proceeded out of the booth to head to the car, (y/n) shot Calum a look.

“What are you doing? I can’t hang out tonight, I have class in the morning, that’s why we did dinner instead-“

“That’s really too bad, love, because you and I need to have a bit of a talk, don’t we?”

She raised her brows at his bold comment, but didn’t argue with him again. Simply followed next to him out of the restaurant.

She continued to stare at him, waiting for him to give her some sort of sign of what was going on in his head. Clearly something had happened, but he wasn’t budging at all. The only sliver of a sign he offered was pulling her in close to him when they got in the back of Luke’s car. Which only made (y/n) more anxious for answers, because it was now obvious to Luke that something was up.

Ash and Mike were already at the house when Luke pulled in, and everyone went in together, deciding on drinks and just hanging out and chatting. (y/n) didn’t understand why Calum needed her to stick around for this, but she wasn’t going to question him in front of everyone.

She was sat curled up on one end of the sofa, and surprisingly, it was Ashton next to her, not Calum. And Luke on the other side of Ashton.

Calum was in his own seat in a recliner, sat upright and solid, completely isolated from the group. Michael was also sat alone in a similar chair, but still made the effort to join in on the laughter and conversation.

At this point, (y/n) was not only confused, but a little pissed off.

She took a long swig of her beer, gave Calum a pointed look, and then excused herself to the kitchen for another drink. Where she waited for him to show up just seconds later.

“You alright love?” He asked as he strolled into the kitchen, words sweet, but voice cocky. (y/n) crossed her arms as she leaned back against the counter.

“What the hell is up with you? You drag me back here with the guys because you need to talk to me, and then ignore me, when you know I shouldn’t even be here in the first place-”

“Babe,” Calum cut off her irritated rambling, and she gawked a bit at the pet name, but before she could continue, he took a large stride forward, practically caging her in against the kitchen counter. “Why are you so upset?” He asked, feigning concern as he leaned in even closer to her. His lips brushed the shell of her ear as he spoke again, hands on either side of her on the counter, now actually keeping her their against him. “Why are you so tense, angel?”

(y/n) pushed herself further back into the counter, trying to put some space between their bodies as their eyes met again. There was a coy smirk on his lips, telling her he knew exactly what he was doing, messing with her like this.

“Was it all those tweets you were reading, babe?” He asked, and she liked her lips, suddenly they felt very dry. Calum chuckled as he caught the action. “I knew it��

“What do you think you’re doing?” She asked him breathlessly.

“Didn’t you want to have that talk now? That is why you wanted me to follow you in here isn’t it?” Calum asked, and the irritation in her eyes dissipated into something else he recognized all too well, just not so much on her.

Lust.

“Did all those thirst tweets from random girls make you a bit jealous baby?” He cooed, hands finding her hips and sliding just a bit under the hem of her shirt, just enough to run the rough pads of his fingers over her skin. He cocked an eyebrow at her, telling her he was impatient for her answer.

“Maybe,” She murmured out, unable to find her voice due to his distracting touch. “Just a little bit”

“Really?” Calum chuckled, letting one of his hands trail from her waist to cup just under her jaw, pulling her in closer. He was leaning over considerably by reason of their height difference. “I can tell when you lie (y/n), we’ve been friends for years” His ring clad fingers ran delicately down her throat.

When he leaned forward, her eyes fell shut, and a chill ran down her spine as his lips brushed over hers. It almost seemed unintentional, but (y/n) knew full well that Calum was in absolute control of what he was doing.

“We should get back to our friends before they come looking for us” Calum practically muttered into her mouth, stepping back a bit to leave the room.

Before he could, her small hands grasped the collar of his leather jacket, pulling him back in against her and connecting their lips in a desperate and passionate kiss. Like her life depended on it, she’d never thought twice about kissing him, she just knew that she needed to before he could leave.

Calum reacted immediately, kissing her back with fervor, his hands setting back on her hips so he could lift her up and set her on the counter. Her skirt rode up a bit, but she didn’t have a care about it. Their kiss broke for a moment as she readjusted to be comfortable, but he didn’t let her do much before tugging her right back into his chest, neck craning down to meet her lips again in a fiery kiss. She tasted of alcohol and her strawberry chapstick and he was addicted to it upon contact, each kiss more desperate than the last, until she was panting against him in silent plea for more.

“Cal,” She murmured his name out softly as he hiked her legs up his hips, so that he could run his hands under her bare thighs and hold her securely against him. He trailed a few kisses along her jaw, making her tilt her head back in bliss.

He pulled away, eyes flickering over her features and taking a moment to fully appreciate her in this state. Her eyes were shut, long lashes casting small shadows over her cheekbones. Lips swollen and pink because of him. She looked like a piece of art like this.

(y/n’s) eyes opened when she realized he wasn’t about to kiss her again, and a blush settled on her cheeks as she found him staring at her. She bit down on her bottom lip to keep from smiling too wide and looking like a dork.

“What?” She murmured after he’d just stared for long enough. Calum shook his head, smiling one of his infamously happy grins, his eyes crinkling and his teeth on display as he looked at her.

“I just love you so damn much, I don’t know why you’d ever be jealous of a stranger, angel” He murmured, a hand cupping her cheek. She wasn’t sure how he’d gone from irresistibly sexy to adorable and sweet in a matter of seconds, but it didn’t matter, because her heart was swelling beyond maximum capacity and the smile she’d tried to hold back broke free.

“You love me?” She asked, even though he’d said to her clear as day, she needed to know that her mind wasn’t playing tricks on her right now.

“Course I do sunshine, you’re my best girl, always have been” He said, shrugging his shoulder and cocking his head to the side. (y/n) smiled at him, her hands finally releasing their death grip on his collar to take his face in her small palms, gently guiding him down to kiss his lips softly. Gentle, and pure, and sweet.

She kept her forehead pressed against his, her hands still holding him close even as their lips parted.

“That’s how I should’ve kissed you the first time,” She whispered to him. “After a date, all nervous like”

Calum chuckled softly, his hands taking her own and his lips brushing the back of them both before cupping her face in his hands, and kissing her sweetly, as she did him.

“I love you too,” She murmured between small kisses. “I love you too” She repeated, their noses bumping a bit as their lips met again in a slightly more sloppy kiss.

“Hey where’s the- woah hey!”

Calum and (y/n) pulled apart upon hearing Michael’s surprised words from what he’d walked in on. The bassist swiftly pulled down her skirt from where it had ridden up pretty high on her thighs, and gave his friend an awkward nod of acknowledgement.

“Guys! They finally did it!” Michael hollered into the living room.

(y/n) sighed, giving Calum a bashful and apologetic look before she slid off the counter she’d been sitting on. Luke and Ashton came rushing in, one with his arms up in cheers, and the other staring wide eyed and gawking just at the close proximity of Calum and (y/n).

“It’s February, you guys owe me twenty, I guessed the closest!” Luke hollered at the other two.

“You bet on us?” (y/n) asked.

“Luke, you guessed January, it doesn’t count ‘cause it passed. Ash wins, he guessed May” Michael ignored (y/n’s) comment, while fumbling for his wallet to pay Ashton.

“But I was closest,” Luke argued. “Doesn’t matter if it happened past my guess, my guess was still closest-”

“Hold on, hold on,” Calum spoke up, taking the twenty dollar bill from Michael before Ashton, or Luke, could. “You guys are not paying each other over (y/n) and I getting together”

“We’re together?” (y/n) asked softly from next to him.

“Course we are baby,” Calum winked over at her. “If you’ll have me, but give me a moment,” He turned back to his friends, holding up the money. “(y/n/n’s) got classes in the morning, so we are taking this, I’m taking her home, and we’re using your money to get her breakfast for the morning”

“Fine,” Luke muttered. “Congratulations by the way, I knew you two would crack”

“Crack?” Calum muttered, but shook his head, deciding he didn’t want much more of an explanation. “Okay, we’re gonna head out, ready?” He asked (y/n), who nodded and took his offered hand so he’d lead her out of the house.

“Don’t forget to carry the bride over the threshold!” Luke hollered before they could be out of earshot.

Calum turned to (y/n), squeezing her hand and kissing her temple.

“When’s your last class tomorrow?” He asked, and she thought for a moment.

“I should be finished up by two,” She answered. “Why, you free?”

He giggled, actually giggled at her response, and nodded his head.

“I say we go on that date you were talking about earlier,” He suggested, opening the passenger door of the car for her. She hummed and got in, Cal quickly closing the door and getting in on the driver’s side. “Well? Am I taking you out tomorrow?” He asked, and she grinned, nodding and leaning over the center console to meet his lips in a kiss.

“You sure as hell are” She agreed, and Calum grinned before kissing her again.

They should have done this long ago.

xoxo ~ jordie

#5sos #5sos x reader #5sos fanfiction #5sos imagine #5sos scenario #calum hood #calum hood x reader #calum hood fanfiction #calum hood scenario #calum hood imagine

207 notes · View notes

your-anxious-nightmare · 5 years

Text

Speak Up

Summary: Roman is depressed and teh boys find out but its really bad one day and Virgil helps. (ie, a vent fic) (based vaguely on Say Something by A Great Big World) Word Count: 2050 Pairings: None, could be read as Prinxiety if you so desire. WARNINGS: Blood, Self-Harm, Depression. (if there another way to tag these, let me know, I want you to be safe. My DM’s and asks are open for suggestions.)

Roman was the happiest, most charming person you could ever meet. He always had a smile on his face, always cracking jokes and laughing. He never failed to bring a smile to the cheeks of all his peers, it was like it was his sole purpose in life.

But Roman was an actor and an amazing one at that.

He hid behind a mask of smiles, dressed in costumes of colour and played the role everyone expected of him.

Behind closed doors, he dropped the act. As soon as the lock clicked and the world was shut out, that charming smile fell. He lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling with tears in his eyes as silence echoes in his heart.

For all purposes he had a perfect life, why should anyone think he was struggling? He had a beautiful home, a good job, three wonderful friends who were oh so happy to have him around. So why was he so sad?

Why did he always feel like the whole world had their hands on his shoulders and were pressing down as hard as they could?

It was Virgil who noticed first, of course it was.

The group had gone out to a cafe during their one collective day off. Patton arrived first, he only lived around the corner so it was a two-minute walk, meeting Logan second, punctual as always right on 12. Virgil was third, almost running to get there a minute late. Roman had arrived shortly after, sauntering over and claiming it was a fashionable lateness.

Everything was normal, the quartet sitting in the same booth they had since high school, Virgil curled up around a mug while Patton rambles on about the animals at the shelter he volunteers for. Logan was watching Patton, enamoured by his every move, but Roman? He had started to zone out.

Virgil watched him stare at the empty mug in his hands for five minutes, Patton and Logan too invested in each other to see the gleam in the usually happy boy’s eyes. He watched as Roman’s hand drifted to his forearm, pinching the skin through his sleeves. He watched the young man flinch, eyes blinking rapidly before looking up at the pair in front of him, making a funny quip and plastering a smile across his painted lips.

Logan noticed next. He was always very observant (when not caught up in Patton’s eyes).

It was a group movie night at the Hartley household, or as Logan called it ‘Roman, Patton and Virgil break into my house and destroy my living room in order to watch movies on my tv and spill popcorn all over my carpet’. All was going as normal, Virgil and Roman bickered over movie choice before settling on ‘The Nightmare Before Christmas’, Patton served them all cookies and Logan moved their shoes beside the door. It was during ‘Jack’s Lament’, while Virgil was dramatically reenacting the song to an enamoured Patton that Logan saw Roman scratch at his wrist. The sleeve of his Superman onesie slid up, revealing a small red line etched into the tanned skin. It was only a quick glimpse, it could’ve been a loose thread or a trick of the light, but it had Logan watching him all night. He saw the flinch when Patton grabbed his arm, the vacant look in his eyes as he watched Jack and Sally together.

Patton was the last to find out and in the worst of ways.

Realistically, he knew something was up from the moment it started, he wasn’t as dumb as he let the world believe. As soon as Roman’s smiles dropped even a millimetre he noticed, he just didn’t know how to ask.

It was a cold night, a storm was rolling in and the city was drenched in rain. Patton was at home, curled up in bed reading a book when his phone went off. It only rang twice, ending before he could answer. He turned on the screen to see a message pop through.

Ro-Bear xx: sorry but diall

It was simple, and to anyone else would’ve been rather inconspicuous. But Roman was a grammatically correct texter, always with correct punctuation and spelling and an emoji at the end. Patton called back, closing his book and climbing out of bed as the phone rang...

And rang...

And went to voicemail...

Roman always picked up.

Patton called Logan and Virgil as he pulled on his shoes, telling them to meet him at Roman’s. He grabbed his keys and wallet and drove over despite the low visibility and heavy downpour. It took a few minutes, two more unanswered calls to Roman and almost hitting a cat that crossed at the wrong time before Patton arrived.

He opened the door, using his key that Roman had given him when he moved in due to his penchant for losing his stuff, and stuck his head in, calling for the other man.

There was no answer, the whole house was quiet but the lights were all on. The tv was muted and the ever-running stereo turned off, it was like all noise had ceased to exist.

Patton stepped inside, calling out again as he shut the door, wandering further into the house to find his friend. There was almost no sign of him, if it weren’t for the keys on the counter and the shoes spread across the entrance Patton could’ve been fooled into thinking he wasn’t home.

His bed was unmade, clothes and books were strewn across his floor but no sign of him.

When Patton reached the bathroom door, he expected to hear maybe a tap or the shower running but was met with the sound of broken sobs.

“Roman? Are you in there? It’s Patton,” he called softly, knocking on the door softly. The sobs from inside stop, shuffling and the sound of clattering replacing them before silence.

“Roman?”

“I’m - I’m okay Pat. I’m fine.” Roman’s voice floats through the wooden door, shaking and out of breath.

“It’s okay if you’re not, would you like to talk, kiddo?” Patton offers, hearing the door open as Logan and Virgil arrive.

“No, no, no, I’m fine. Just go home. I’ll call you tomorrow.” Another loud clatter sounds from inside, followed by a choked sob.

“Can you open the door for me, Roman?” The two arrivals find Patton leant against the wall, hand on the doorknob and fear in his eyes as the sobs get louder from inside.

“Pat, gimmie a minute,” Virgil pulls the younger man away from the door, Logan taking him into the kitchen and leaving Virgil alone at the still locked door.

“Princey? It’s just you and me.” Virgil knocks lightly, hearing a groan from inside. “Hey, rude man.” Roman snickers lightly.

“Do you wanna tell me what’s going on? Pat was kinda worried when he called us and to be honest I am too. It’s not every night one of your friends locks himself in his bathroom.” The sounds from instead get a little muffled, some mix of a sob and a groan and the rustling of packaging. “That’s okay too. Do you wanna count with me?” Virgil slowly talks him through one of his breathing exercises, much like Roman has done for him many a time before.

“How ya doing now buddy? Is there anything I can help with?” Logan peeks his head from the kitchen, getting a quick shake from the man crouched in front of the bathroom door before Roman shuffles around inside.

“I need - um, I need help but,” Roman takes a breath, looking around at the room and what he’s done, “you’re gonna - you can’t,”

“Roman, I already know.” Virgil waits, listening for any sign of the man inside agreeing to let him inside to help. It’s the small click of the lock and the hesitant shuffle away from the door that lets him know. He looks back at the pair at the end of the hall before ducking inside, closing the door and facing the wood as he asks if Roman wants it locked again. The other man agrees and Virgil obliges, locking the door before sitting down, slowly taking in the sight of his friend.

It was safe to say Virgil was worried. Roman’s eyes were red and puffy from crying, tears still falling down his unnaturally pale face. He was curled up in the corner of the room, leant against the shower wall in just his pyjama pants and avoiding looking up at Virgil. What was most concerning was the way he held his arms. They were laid on his lap, palms face up, and covered in sticky red.

“Can I help you clean up?”

“It won’t stop.” Roman’s eyes fall on the pile of bloody tissues next to the bin, “I didn’t mean too and now it won’t stop and I want it to stop and I’m so scared.” His breathing picks up again, arms shaking as the blood continues to drip onto the floor between his legs.

“Hey, it’s okay. I can help.” Virgil shuffles closer, taking a cloth and wetting it in the sink before sitting directly in front of the panicking man. With gentle movements, he washes away the blood, spotting the mark in question. It was deep, much deeper than the others but not deep enough to be a concern. Virgil raises Roman’s arm, holding the cloth to the skin and looking up at his face.

“You don’t have to do this alone, Roman. You never did. I’m sorry we didn’t reach out sooner. I’m sorry we let you get to this point before trying to help you. We are always here when you need us, literally, I’m awake all the time, you know this.” Roman snickers through his tears, wiping his cheeks with his free hand.

“I just don’t know what’s wrong.”

“And that’s okay. You don’t have to know why you feel the way you do. You just have to understand that there is always a better way. There are people that care for you, people that want to help you feel better. It’s hard to ask for help, I understand that, but this is an incredible start. I’m so proud of you, Roman.”

No more words are spoken, Virgil merely waits for the bleeding to stop before using the bandages Roman had taken out but not tried to use yet. He wraps the man’s arms, tucking them in place before bringing his hands up to his lips.

“We care, Roman.” He mumbled, pressing a light kiss to his tanned knuckles. Though the tears had stopped falling, Roman’s eyes still shone. He threw himself into Virgil’s arms, wincing as the bandages brushed the man’s bony shoulder just a little too hard.

They sat like that for a while, no words but no tears, holding each other like the whole world was in their arms.

“Think you’re ready to see the others? I know they’re worried about you.” Virgil whispers, running his fingers through Roman’s messy hair. The man in his arms nods, pulling away slowly and standing, taking his shirt from Virgil’s hands and pulling the sleeves over his hands.

“They’re not gonna judge you, Ro. They’re not gonna make fun of you or treat you any different because of this.” Roman just nods, taking Virgil’s hand and letting him lead him down to the kitchen.

Patton had been sitting on the counter when they finally entered, hands clasped around a mug of hot chocolate. Logan stood in front of him, glasses on the counter and hands rubbing tat his eyes.

As the two men entered, Patton jumped down, taking two steps to hug Roman before hesitating. Roman nodded slowly, not dropping Virgil’s hand but holding Patton tightly in his other arm. When he pulls away, Patton smile at him, squeezing his hand before Roman’s eyes fall onto the last man in the room, Logan, who was pushing his glasses back up his nose.

“I do hope you do not expect me to hug you as well, I love you but I am not one for sentimental actions.” Roman just laughs lightly, shaking his head as Virgil puts his arm around his shoulders, pulling him close.

“You’re gonna be okay, Roman. We’ll make sure of it.”

#roman sanders #sanders sides #sanders sides fic #virgil sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #ts roman #ts virgil #ts logan #ts patton #blood tw #depression tw #self-harm tw #major triggers

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