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ramzawrites · 1 year

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Dream World - A Sibling!Mutant!Reader Story - Part 3

Part 1 Part 2 | Part 4

Pairings: None

Characters included: Leonardo, Donatello, Michelangelo

Warnings: n/a

Series: Yes, this is part 3

Summary: Donnie and Leo finally explain to Y/N how they got to this point. In return opening up a whole different can of worms .

Word count: 4150

Authors Note: I hope it doesn’t come over as too slow, promise things will pick up soon but I’m just kind of stuck setting things up etc haha

Leo and Donnie were now sitting on chairs in front of Y/N who was still situated on the stretcher. There was just something inside them that wasn’t comfortable with trying to walk yet. Judging how they could commandeer their arms and fingers without much problem, they figured the same would happen once they walked but something still felt off. It probably was just them not trusting their new body yet. Hopefully they didn’t need to learn to trust it.

They were still hoping that the next time they open their eyes again they would be back home. But nothing like that happened. If anything, everything began to feel more real. It was as if they finally began to properly process the new situation and man was it scary that they slowly started to accept everything for what it was.

Yes, they were sitting in some weird infirmary. There were two turtle mutants staring back at them while they too were a turtle mutant themself. These mutants in front of them firmly believed that they were their sibling and tried to genuinely understand what was going on as well. It was like there was a small voice inside their head, something almost instinctual, that told Y/N that they could trust them. That they really only wanted the best for them. There was nothing malicious going on. Just brothers trying to understand why their sibling didn’t remember them and, in the process, they would maybe be able to help them out as well.

Y/N placed down the almost empty glass of water next to them. Hoping that the glass wouldn’t fall over. In their lap was a warm bowl of soup. Apparently, Mikey, the one in the orange bandana that tried talking to them the first time they woke up, made it after they passed out again. Leo explained that Mikey needed to do something so he begun preparing some soup for Y/N, firmly believing that they will wake up soon enough again and as it turned out he was correct.

It was a bit embarrassing as Y/N just sat there and stared at it, wanting to try some of the soup since it smelled delicious, but it was a bit awkward with how the two brothers just stared at them. Leo looked almost hopeful, almost as if he wanted to encourage them with his gaze alone. Donnie, the one in the purple bandana and the purple lines on his body, eyed them with an almost calculating gaze. It was as if he was analyzing every movement they made.

Not able to withstand the delicious smell of the soup, Y/N finally lifted the spoon towards their lips. The loud slurp was not planned but their ogling visitors didn’t seem to mind at all.

What Y/N didn’t expect was definitely not the way the flavor seemed to explode in their mouth. Their eyes widening. This soup was delicious. How could simple soup taste so delicious? Were they starving more than they initially thought which made this taste even more amazing or was it really just that good? Either way they couldn’t help themself anymore as they shoveled more of the soup down their throat.

Leo seemed satisfied with the way he smiled, nodding along. Probably just happy to see that they felt good enough to eat.

The first impression Y/N had of Donnie was that he was rather cold, but he cracked a small smile as well as they dove for more soup.

“Hungry?” Leo chuckled, the back of the chair at his front as he put his chin down on his arms that were resting on the backrest of the chair.

Gulping another spoonful of soup down Y/N answered, “The soup is like… so good!”

“I’m sure Mikey will be happy to hear that.”

Donnie nodded “It’s good to know that your appetite seems to be intact. How’s the headache?”

“It’s better now. It’s still there but not as bad as before.” It was true. There was still a bit of a soft pounding, but it wasn’t nearly as overwhelming as before.

Leo sucked a deep breath in “Alright. Let’s just get the show on the road then. Y/N would you mind telling us about yourself? I don’t know. Just go through your life story in an abridged version? Afterwards me and Don here can tell you about the you we know.”

Y/N nodded in agreement before they even properly thought about it, but they didn’t really mind telling them first. It was just weird to talk about yourself like that.

“I’m Y/N L/N and I really don’t know what to tell you. Had a mom and dad that were always usually really busy with work, so it was most of the time just me and my two younger sisters. We are really close because of that. We all moved apart though for university. Youngest studies business, other sister studies to become a vet and I am in college for design.”

They stopped talking when Donnie’s eyebrows shot up, which in return made Y/N wonder how it came that Donnie had eyebrows, but Leo didn’t. They wanted to touch their own face to see if they had any but were scared it would be too obvious what they were thinking about if they did that, so they refrained from doing so.

Trying to get back to the actual important topic at hand Y/N cleared their throat with a cough “Did I say something weird?”

As a response Donnie slowly shook his head “Uh, no? I just… uh, I guess I didn’t expect… It’s fine. Continue.”

Even Leo raised his eyebrow ridge in confusion, though after a second he seemed to clock what was going on and just made a handwave for Y/N to continue.

They shrugged this weird moment off and did so “Honestly there isn’t much else to tell you guys. I lived a pretty normal life. In high school I met my best friend May Wellis who was also into art and we both got into the same college. We’ve been inseparable since then. Actually, I hung out with her before we both fell asleep in my living room but when I woke up again, I was here. As a mutant. Questions?”

Y/N really felt like they just joined some sort of new club, and they were currently doing an introduction round.

“Huh.” Leo mused “That’s… less than I thought.”

“What’s your sisters names? You gave us your best friend’s name but not the names of your sisters.” Donnie noted.

“Oh! Right! Sorry! Their names are-“

Empty. They mind was blank. How come they drew a blank when it came to their sisters’ names? The sisters they hung out almost on the daily while they grew up! The people that greeted them whenever they came back home! The two people that encouraged them wholeheartedly to follow their own passion?

“I- I- I don’t remember…” Y/N’s voice wavered as another wave of emotion crashed down on them. Confusion and sadness swilling around inside their mind.

Leo’s eyes were filled with a sad sympathy that made Y/N gulp down another wave of emotion that seemed to create a clump in their throat.

“Don’t worry. I’m sure this all is a lot for you and your mind still needs some time to adjust. I’m sure it’ll come back to you.” He made sure to have smile on his face, but it frankly didn’t fill Y/N with a lot of confidence. It was clear that he was just trying to lift their spirits up while not fully believing it himself.

And yet “Yeah, yeah, I’m sure. I’m sure you’re right.”

“How about we start telling you about the Y/N we know, let’s concentrate for now on how we got here.” Donnie stepped in. His almost monotone, matter-of-factly voice actually helped to pull Y/N back out of their spiraling thoughts.

They nodded, not trusting their voice right now. Opting to drink the last of their water and swallowing more spoonful of soup down. Fully concentrating on the coldness of the water and the amazing taste of the soup. The thought that they couldn’t remember the names of their sisters was painful enough that they knew if they let that sink in properly, they would be a crying mess in seconds.

Understanding this as his que, Donnie began “To us you are Y/N Hamato. You are the fourth youngest of five. The oldest one is Raphael, then comes Leonardo and I, then it’s you and the youngest of us all is Michelangelo. We all met April, the human woman you met before, when we were kids, and we all consider her our sister. She is the same age as Raph.”

Leo bumped his shoulder against Donnie’s to take over for a moment “Me and him are twins! Donnie’s full name is Donatello by the way. Dad had a thing for renaissance people when he named us, for you though he always specifically said he chose your name because of the meaning. Why exactly he liked your name in that moment I can’t tell you. He changes his story every time. We all have the suspicion that he saw your name written down somewhere and just went with it.”

If Y/N wasn’t going through another crisis they would have raised their eyebrow at that. Their father sure sounded like an interesting man.

Donnie sighed, obviously not happy with being interrupted like that “Thank you for the additional information, Nardo. We used to be just normal turtles and as far as Leo here told me he already gave you the rundown of all our specific species. Just to reiterate though you are a Spotted Turtle. When we were still young, we got mutated by a yokai named Baron Draxum who wanted to create his own soldiers to usurp the human race since he saw them as a threat. Luckily our father who was a human still at that point managed to save us after we got mutated. He himself got mutated into a rat human hybrid and raised us here in the sewers. Now, I know this was probably a lot of information, you may let it sink in or ask questions before I continue.”

There were indeed a lot of questions running through Y/N’s mind after hearing that. They were glad that Donnie gave them a moment to let his words sink in. He probably figured that it was beginning to be a lot seeing how Y/N’s eyebrows started to pull down more and more in concentration.

“Um, Yokai?” This was Y/N’s first try at trying to talk again. Hoping it wouldn’t break the dam that held back their tears.

“Mystical beings often capable of magical acts.” Donnie explained short handedly.

Luckily once again Leo jumped in to deliver more information “Baron Draxum? The dude who created us can for example throw around seeds where vines grow out and can control them to attack. He looks like a huge sheep man, but we know a yokai for example who looks like a skeleton or there is another one who looks kind of human, but her true form is that of a huge, gross, spider.”

“Oh. Okay. I think I can get the idea. But… we… aren’t yokai?”

Donnie shook his head “No. We mutated into the beings we are. Yokai are usually born, though most yokai assume we are yokai as well so we can walk around their hidden city without standing out. They tend to refer to us as Kappas.”

It was kind of nice to know that there seemed to be a city full of other beings that let them walk around without too many problems since Y/N doubted that humans would react kindly to mutants. Of course, hearing about beings that can apparently use magic and transform seemed weird at best but this whole situation they found themself in seemed impossible as well.

“Just to get it straight. Baron Draxum created us, but we got raised by a rat mutant?”

“Yep!” Leo nodded happily “Our dad’s name is Splinter but he used to be the world-famous actor Lou Jitzu! Baron Draxum used his DNA to mutate us meaning we are actually related to him. Oh, and Draxum isn’t trying to usurp the human race anymore. A lot has happened and with Mikey’s help he had a whole, in your literal words, redemption arc. He’s also kind of our other dad since without him we wouldn’t exist as well.”

“Damn… sounds… weird and complicated.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Okay, well, let’s continue.” Donnie cut through, “As Leo so nicely told you our father is Lou Jitzu who is also the one who taught us how to fight. He taught us how to be ninjas. We usually go out in the night since humans don’t really care for mutants and that’s when we do our vigilante work. I’ll be honest I’m currently wondering if your body still remembers some of your training since I doubt you have any kind of proper fighting experience with your… human memories.”

Y/N shook their head “Uh. No. No fighting. I only took like self-defense classes when I was younger. But you said ninja? Like with hiding in the shadows and stuff?”

Once again, this all sounded impossible. Straight out of a comic book even. But it was just so difficult to doubt all of this when you suddenly wake up as a god damn turtle mutant.

Somehow what Y/N just said seemed to make Leo smile brightly “Yeah! Actually, when it came to pure stealth you were the best of us all! Raph is the strong one, I’m the fast one, Donnie is the smart one, Mikey is the agile one and you were the stealthy one. It’s genuinely always so impressive how you can just, I don’t know, disappear into the shadows.” Suddenly Leo caught himself, rolling his shoulders as he put on a smug smile “Of course I’m a close second when it comes to stealth.”

Since Donnie rolled his eyes at this, Y/N just assumed that Leo was putting on a bit of an act.

Either way there was suddenly this warm feeling of pride swelling up inside of Y/N’s chest. They don’t remember any of what Donnie or Leo just told them, but the way Leo began happily chatting about how good they supposedly were when it came to stealth, they couldn’t help but feel happy. Somehow appreciated even.

Leo genuinely had full admiration for their ability even if he tried to cover it up later with a cool, self-assured demeanor.

“Wow. A ninja that is actually stealthy? Shocking.” The quip was out before Y/N even realized. Their hand slapped over their mouth. They were still working through their shock of the whole situation, and these were pretty much strangers in front of them and yet they acted as if they were talking with May.

There had to be still some of the sedative inside their system, otherwise they couldn’t explain how they were suddenly comfortable enough to make a sarcastic remark towards them.

Leo snorted, clearly amused by their comment “Oh, yeah definitely. We both don’t have that problem, but the other three, they are certainly lacking in that department.” He moved his open palm next to his mouth and leaned a bit closer towards Y/N’s direction, acting as if he was exchanging secrets with them.

Donnie could obviously hear him “Oh sure. You are the most flamboyant of all of us, Leonardo. You are the one who has to throw puns and one liners whenever you can.”

“Yeah, but I do that stealthily.”

“I’m not even gonna continue arguing with you about this. Let’s just continue with trying to tell Y/N more about themself? How about that? We still haven’t told them how they got knocked out for two weeks.”

“Sounds like someone is a sore loser!” Leo sang.

There was a quiet slap as Donnie swiped his open hand against Leo’s back of his head. No hesitation. He didn’t even look over towards his twin as he slapped his bald head.

“Y/N, may I continue, or do you have more questions before I tell you about the mission that ended up with you comatose?”

Their eyes lingered for a second longer on Leo who rubbed his head with an annoyed grumble only to look back over to Donnie to give him an affirmative nod. This was certainly going to be interesting. Not only were they apparently a ninja, but they also regularly went on missions, and it was one of those missions that supposedly ended up with them comatose?

Was their life a comic book?

Wait, that wasn’t their life. This was the life of Y/N Hamato. This was confusing.

“Two weeks ago, we caught wind of someone collecting krang tech either via the black market or by looking over old, infected sites.”

“Krang?”

“Alien invaders we managed to fight off and send back.”

At this point Y/N was sure that they somehow must have been sent into a comic book world. Maybe a video game. He said it somewhat nonchalantly which made Y/N at first just accept this as a normal fact only to realize how outrageous this claim should be.

Though it also didn’t go unnoticed how Donnie seemingly had to force these words out himself. How Leo suddenly shifted uncomfortably on his chair. There was definitely more to the story, but they kept it out of the explanation for Y/N’s sake or even for their own since it seemed to be an uncomfortable topic.

“Oh.” Was all they could say to that. The explanation was enough for them to understand that whatever this Krang tech was, was probably not good and by their reactions to the topic they didn’t dare to ask for further info.

Donnie nodded “Yeah, well, anyway with the help of some investigation and an A.I program I created to scout the internet we found out that there was a person just hoarding everything Krang related. Even robbing labs and shops for equipment. It was a bit weird from the get-go, but we decided to investigate only to find out that this dude had a whole lab set up. You went in first since as we already established you are the stealthiest of us all and with my help you managed to get through the security protocols he set up. Inside we investigated the place further.”

Suddenly he side-eyed Leo “Well, I investigated. You all were just bumbling around like children.”

“Yeah, yeah. You are smart we are not. Can we just get to the bit where everything exploded?”

Exploded? Y/N thought they were ninjas! Then again, the way they act it didn’t completely surprise them somehow.

With an annoyed sigh Donnie continued “Yeah, well, as we investigated to see what this person was planning, he spotted us. He ran in, grabbed some sort of weapon and just began shooting at us. He activated some robots, they were really just endoskeletons with some intact panels and such, but this is not the point. Either way we had to fight them off. We noticed soon that the villain of the week was inching his way towards a particular machine towards the wall that held some sort of pink crystal. You were the closest one so you ran off to be there before he could get there.”

He took a brief pause as he seemingly eyed Y/N for a reaction, probably trying to figure out if this was too much or if they had any questions. When they didn’t react to his inquisitive stare, he continued.

“And you did grab it. Though the man did also shoot at you in the same moment but hit the crystal. The explosion was huge. I’m still trying to understand how this little thing, it was only the size of a forearm at best, created such a huge explosion. When we came back to it the scientist was gone and you laid unconscious with serious burns and wounds in front of us. We brought you home and took care of you as good as we could. You wouldn’t wake up though. I did notice though that especially your frontal lobe and hippocampus was being active. My first theory was that you had very vivid dreams-”

A pink flash. A loud explosion. Screams. Their own scream?

It burns. Their lungs filled with ash. Smoke invading their senses. No, they didn’t want to die! This couldn’t be it!

Something cold touched their shoulder which snapped them out of their thoughts. Leo was standing in front of them, his face scrunched together in worry. Donnie stood a few paces behind Leo, his eyes firmly planted on Y/N. Weirdly enough their lap felt wet. When they looked down, they noticed how the bowl of soup was askew, some of it must have spilled. They couldn’t help but be sad for the waste of such good soup.

Leo’s hand left Y/N’s shoulder once their teary gaze met with his. Confusion written on their face.

“You suddenly zoned out on us, Y/N. What happened? Was it too much? Do you want to take a break and be alone for a bit?”

That was a good question. What did happen?

“Um. I’m not sure. It’s just. As you spoke I just- I don’t know. I remember a pink flash and feeling like my skin was burning. I don’t know.”

Leo nodded, taking the bowl out of Y/N’s lap and placed it away on the counter in the room “Alright. Let’s stop right now then. I’m going to grab a towel so you can get cleaned up.”

“Okay. Thank you.” Y/N’s voice shaking almost just as much as their hands were. Whatever this small moment was it felt so real. For a moment it felt like they were in immense pain, scared and alone.

“I’ll be back in a sec!” Leo left the room with big strides. Leaving Donnie with Y/N who was currently wiping away any excess tears.

“What you experienced, how vivid was it?” Donnie asked, his hand against his chin.

Y/N sniffled, embarrassed that they were silently crying in front of him without really knowing why “I don’t know. It was really quick. I did feel pain though. I could taste smoke in my mouth and smelled it.” There was a quick moment of silence before Y/N added the next comment more quietly “I was scared of dying, I think.”

Donnie fidgeted on the spot “Hm, maybe your memories are still there, they are just buried.” He clearly spoke mostly to himself as he set up this hypothesis.

Before Y/N could even try to argue with that notion someone else entered the infirmary. Instead of Leo there was a smaller turtle with an orange bandana. Mikey, Y/N remembered.

He had a new bowl of steaming soup in his hands, a towel was draped over his arm. Mikey placed the bowl next to the almost empty one, so he could give Y/N the towel.

Y/N accepted it graciously with shaking hands, immediately moving to clean the soup off their legs.

“Brought you some more warm soup in case you are still hungry. If you aren’t hungry, it’s fine as well. Donnie maybe we wanna go and give them a moment.” Mikey placed his hand on Donnie’s arm to softly pull him along.

The small turtle had a soft smile on his face but the way he stiffly moved made Y/N believe that he wasn’t really too sure how to act in this moment.

“Hey, Mikey, right?”

Said turtle immediately swiveled around, his eyes bright “Yeah?”

“Just wanted to say thank you for the food. It tastes amazing.”

At this point his smile grew into a proper happy grin “Glad you like it! If you feel like your stomach can deal with it, I can make your favorite food! Oh, but first you should rest a bit.”

With that the two turtles left for now. Y/N wanted to question why Mikey said this without even asking what their favorite food was but then realization hit them that he must know Y/N Hamato’s favorite food.

They couldn’t help but wonder how similar this Y/N Hamato and they were. Was it just the name? Would they share something like their favorite food? If the Hamato’s memories are buried inside them and they were resurfacing, would it mean they would slowly loose the person they knew they were? Was this the reason they forgot the name of their own sisters? Was it really memories that they just experienced? If so, they never wanted to go through that again. It was horrible and frightening.

Y/N laid their head down on the stretcher. Exhausted after this whole ordeal. Their thoughts still spiraling as they closed their eyes. Letting the drowsiness once again take over.

@saspas-library-of-craziness

#rottmnt x reader #rottmnt reader insert #rottmnt leo x reader #rottmnt donnie x reader #rottmnt mikey x reader #rottmnt leo #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt donnie #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles reader insert #ramza writes

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seaside-writings · 5 months

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Hello, hello, all you holly jolly people! It is the first day of my “12 Days of Prompts” event and we're starting off with something a little scary.

Every Christmas season there are two horror movies that my family and I watch over and over again. The first one as you can call see is “Krampus” and the second you’ll see later on!

Krampus is by far one of my favorite Christmas movies, I know that sounds strange, but it’s the truth. I love the monster designs, how the characters a portrayed, and how it still feels more like a Christmas movie than a horror movie, even during some of the actual horror parts. Plus, I like that it doesn’t try and take itself too seriously.

So if you haven’t seen it yet, I highly recommend it!

Like always if you do use these prompts please tag me so I can see what you’ve made!

I hope you all stay blessed and safe throughout your day.

Merry Christmas & Happy Holidays: Celia ❤💚❄⛄🎄

“It started with the wind, on a cold night, much like this,” - “It's Christmas. Nothing bad is going to happen on Christmas!” - "That's what a family is, baby. People you try to be friends with, even when you don't have a lot in common,” - “You're not thinking of going after that snowplow alone, are you?” “A Shepherd's gotta protect his flock,” - “It's the blizzard, honey, nothing's working right now,” - “They can see dust specks on Mars, but no one noticed a giant blizzard hurtling towards us,” “Well, as soon as the power's back, you can write an angry e-mail to the National Weather Service,” - “I would just be calmer if I knew how we were gonna survive Christmas with 12 people stuck in a house with no hot water, no heat, and no electricity,” - “You know, she and I, we butt heads, but I can't imagine life without her,” Yeah, I know what you mean,” _ “And that night, in the darkness of a howling blizzard… I got my wish,” “Oh, lay off of him! The kid deserves a prize for telling the truth!” - “It's just a scratch,” “Oh, my gosh,” “It looks like something bit you.” “Nope! Probably a bear trap under the snow or something,” “We don't have bears here,” - “Dear Santa, I know I haven't been great this year and I'm sorry for that, but I was really hoping you could help out me and my family this Christmas,” - “So, where’s the nog? I need to get merry,” - “Come on, kids, I'm gonna teach you how to make peppermint schnapps,” - "A little sugar, a little spice, makes everything nice." - "I haven't been this hungover since the Pope died." - “But Krampus didn't take me that night… He left me, as a reminder of what happens when hope is lost, when belief is forgotten… and the Christmas spirit dies,” - “They too had given up. And eventually, so did I,” - “What’s she saying?” “This… This is all our fault… he’s come for us all... He?” - “And for the first time, I didn't wish for a miracle, I wished for them to go away… a wish I would come to regret,” - “I'm old enough to know when life is coming at me with its pants down,” - "Listen, why don't we just leave? Right? We can all pile in the truck and we'll just see as far as we can get, and we can pick up-” “The truck's gone,” - “And I just wanna say I’m sorry for… thinking you’re such a spineless dick all these years,” - “Poor bastard must have sailed clear through,” “Looks more like the opposite,” “What’d you mean?” “The glass is punched in,” - “Don't suppose you got me a backup generator for Christmas, did you?” “Yeah, it's under the tree next to your ties and underwear,” - “Blah blah blah. Bullshit, bullshit. Ah, here we go, the wishlist!” - “Enough with the sappy crap, let's open up the damn presents,” - “See? Let them out of your sight for one second, and boom, shotgun wedding,” “Can you not, please,” “Well, you ought to know,” - “What did you see up there?” “You don't wanna know, sweetheart,” "Honey, I just got my ass kicked by a bunch of Christmas cookies, so trust me when I tell you I can take it!" - “It's not starting! It's not starting! Why isn't it starting!?”

“I think our best bet is to stay put, board up all the doors and windows, and as soon as the weather breaks, we'll go find her,”

“Hey, asshole! I take back my wish, I take it all back! Give me back my family!” - “I, um-- I just wanna say thanks for, uh, you know, saving my ass back there,” - “Twisted fairytale horseshit!!” - "I've hunted a lot of game in my day, those are hooves. Big ones too. Could be an elk or a goat,” What kind of goat walks on its hind legs? - “How much ammo do you have?” “A couple shells still loaded, maybe a dozen in my pocket. Why?” - “What? “She said we're screwed,” - “They had forgotten the spirit of Christmas, the sacrifice of giving. And my family was no different,” - “And as he had for thousands of years, Krampus came not to reward, but to punish, not to give, but to take,” - “I tried to help them to believe again, but we were no longer the loving family I remembered,” - “I knew Saint Nicholas was not coming this year. Instead, it was a much darker, more ancient spirit. The shadow of Saint Nicholas. It was Krampus,” - “I just wanted Christmas to be like it used to be, but forget it! I hate Christmas! I hate all of you!” - “Evil Santa? She’ll be yammering about a rabid Easter Bunny come Spring,” - “What are we gonna tell the kids?” “I don't know. The truth?” “Sure, which version of it?” - “Yeah, well, you know-- she always gets a little weird around Christmas,” - “Baby, please don't do this, listen, we can figure something else out,” “This is how I figure things out,” - “You had mom's angel this whole time?” “Yeah, I thought you knew,” “No,” - “It was almost Christmas, but this Christmas was darker, less cheerful. But I still believed in Santa, in magic and miracles, and the hope that we could find joy again,” - “I'm sorry, I just wanted Christmas to be like it used to be,” - “Our village had given up on miracles, and on each other,” - “Remember we used to fight over who got to place her?” “Yeah, you fought dirty, I still have the scars,” “Where do you think my girls get it from?” - “I don't like this,” “Whoever did this is a demented son of a bitch,” - “Come on, come on, please,” “I'm trying! I don't even know how to drive a stick! We have a hybrid! - “The snowplow?” “The keys were in the ignition-” “And it was beat to hell!’ “But if it runs, I drive it back here, and then everyone piles in the car and follows while I clear a path in front of us,” “And go where?” “The mall doubles as an emergency shelter, and if it's empty, we'll try the police station,” “And what if they're gone too?” “Then we keep driving till we see lights or people, plowed road, somewhere safe for the kids,” “And then we bring help back here,” - “I think it's panicking, trying to get outside,” “Well, we boarded everything up,” - “What are you doing? We've got four other kids here to protect,” - “It's not what you do, it's what you believe, and what you've given up," - “I think all this might be my fault,” - “What are we gonna do now?” “We keep the fire hot,” - “Oh, hey, there you are! Hey, kiddo. we thought the sugarplum fairies may have gotten you,” - “Everybody, hold on to each other,” - “Be good,” - “Wow, what's this all about?” “It's nothing just… merry Christmas,” “Merry Christmas to you too, baby,”

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hay1ock · 6 months

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Sure just rip my heart out and stomp all over it. Only Friends Episode 10.

It only took 10 episodes but they’ve finally done it and made me feel sympathetic to Top’s situation lol. I’ve clearly gone through my character arc 😝, that or they just made me more annoyed at other characters involved in their part of the story than I am at Top. Boeing, I am looking at you. Mew, you are pushing it. But in all seriousness, I had said I was trying to look at Top more positively, as I have seen him change from Mr Smugface Top Tier to a Mew simp.

I get why Mew would be annoyed to find Boeing at Top’s place and how it maybe set things back in his mind after deciding to give Top a second chance. Boeing was happy to stir the pot and I’m not really sure what he’s hoping to achieve other than annoy me and Top, and probably Ray and Sand too based on the preview. Is it just revenge at being dumped? Does he want Top? Mew? Sand? Is he Boston 2.0 so if he can’t be happy then no one can? Him pushing up his glasses at the end of the scene in Top’s apartment gave me full on anime villain vibes lol.

And then there’s Mew. Omg accidentally liking one of Boeing’s insta posts💀Like I said I get Boeing’s appearance probably upset him all over again. But I had thought revenge era was kind of over after everything that happened with Ray. The talk at the hostel and pushing Top in the pool felt like things were settled about Mew giving him that second chance. But then suddenly inviting Boeing to the wakeboarding… Now, maybe he’s got some trick up his sleeve and is somehow playing Boeing in some way, or maybe he is testing Top, because trust is a hard thing to win back and there’s no way he would want to be taken for a fool all over again (Though from a viewer POV we have seen how Top interacts with Boeing and there’s nothing between them). I don’t know what he’s up to. Also, I feel like he let Boeing’s lips touch his for way too long lol. I just feel it ignited my sympathy for Top in wanting Mew to make a choice. Either commit to the two of them and give Top that chance properly with no games or tests, or let it go, call time on him and Top and find a (healthy) way to move on.

And so onto Boston and Nick. Boston certainly had a tough time while Nick was exploring things with Daddy Dan. I knew Atom was a little scary but to straight up lie and imply Boston took advantage of him… Ugh. I’m not Cheum’s biggest fan but I can’t blame her for believing her brother over Boston, especially considering the whole pursuing and manipulating Top thing that just happened recently. I didn’t like everything she said, and Mew seemed to enjoy the moment a bit too much with his little pat on Boston’s shoulder, but as Ray brought up, and Cheum later focussed on, regardless of anything else, Atom is her little brother. And though it really isn’t anyone’s business if they’re both consenting adults, it isn’t really the done thing to shag your bestie’s siblings. I know Boston tried to dissuade Atom a bit, but considering how strained the friendships already were, he probably should have took a hard pass on sleeping with Atom. Kicking him out the project too was a bit rough. It seemed as if Ray wasn’t quite down with everything that was happening, and I certainly felt bad for Boston. He did something shitty to Mew, but he doesn’t deserve this bullshit scenario Atom has created. But we’ll have to see where things go, if the truth comes out, or if Boston is left abandoned and without a way to graduate, and so goes with his back up plan of moving to New York.

Boston had already seemed to be having ‘feelings’ about Nick. First, looking at his picture and then last episode after seeing him with Dan. Whether it’s love or just fondness/familiarity, missing his company, after all he does say he missed him, it’ll be interesting to see where, if anywhere, he and Nick goes. I do at least feel as if he’s being genuine this time rather than dangling hope-shaped relationship carrots in front of Nick. Their scenes in the store and on the roof were really good and I did feel like I could get on board with them again. I mean, it’ll come down to if they can be honest with each other about what they really want their relationship to be as to whether anything between them is going to work. I don’t know if Boston can, wants to or even should change his sex life. Obviously, there were a couple of people he should have definitely not had sex with, but in general having multiple partners and enjoying sex isn’t anything bad or wrong. I don’t know what he can actually offer Nick in the end. I mean, their sex scene certainly showed a hell of a lot more care than anything we’d seen before. Hopefully, Boston can figure out what he wants and what degree of a relationship he is able to commit to. I would prefer him to be honest about what he can offer Nick, be it an attempt at being boyfriends or just their old agreement of friends with benefits, and then it’ll be down to Nick to make an informed decision. And whether he needs to have a little chat with Dan as to where exactly everybody stands.

And finally, Ray and Sand. Argh, it hurts. First punch to the gut - I just don’t want to sing at your funeral. Second punch - how fucking cute Ray and his donut was lol. I’m glad Ray didn’t force Sand to reveal himself to his father and gave him an out even if it was at the last moment. Who knows how the guy might have taken the news. Sand had been going to the bar on a number of occasions so deep down he probably does want to tell him, but it was right of Ray to not pressure him by making it a condition of him going to rehab in the end. Rehab/therapy, I’m glad Ray went that first time, even if he was doing it purely because Sand asked him to. I can understand his reluctance to talk at that point. He’s kept everything buried beneath alcohol for years. There’s that fear of if you start talking, be vulnerable for even a moment then everything will come tumbling out and you’ll have to face what you’ve been forcing down. The same goes for stopping drinking. Ray has numbed himself to his trauma for a long time, without alcohol there’s going to be a hell of a lot of feelings coming to the surface as well as withdrawal and shifts in mood.

I think Ray’s father having asked Sand for help in getting Ray into rehab had been the most likely end to that conversation from episode 7, and of course, Ray overheard them. I’d been so proud of him for putting the bottles of alcohol in the bin. If only he’d had a bigger bin he might not have gone downstairs maybe in search of garbage bags (also I’ll assume the maid would empty the bin and recycle those bottles lol). The scene at Sand’s place though. God damn, it was so good and hurt like a bitch. As soon as money was involved, Ray couldn’t believe Sand had ever cared for him. Threw back some of what Sand had said about ‘doing anything for money’, ‘liking jobs that pay big’. The way he broke down, feeling betrayed and used, and thinking all the times he’d been happy were nothing but lies. My heart. And of course Sand. He could have easily screamed and shouted right back and yet he did his best to treat Ray gently and calmly, despite being emotional. Ack, and the frustrated cry after he broke down once Ray left, the realisation that he was asking Ray to quit alcohol but could just as easily enable him by having alcohol in his home and him throwing that jar of plum wine. I wonder if we’ll see an on screen reconciliation or skip forward? There’s also Boeing to possibly cause more problems, though I want to say I have faith Sand wouldn’t go back there, though if it’s at a time when he and Ray aren’t back on good terms… I know Sand seems to have it out for Top, but I’d assume he wouldn’t be all that impressed with the ex that cheated either.

And then another impressive performance from Khaotung as Ray. I’m glad Ray’s father cleared things up, though the way he speaks to Ray at the start, honestly, I get why Ray wouldn’t want to listen and gets defensive. I wonder if he’s always spoken so harshly or if their communication broke down over time as Ray spiralled lower? Ray looked tired and done with everything after the situation with Sand was revealed and I’m kind of happy we see him going straight back to the therapist. If he wants a relationship with Sand, it’s in his best interests to start facing his demons. I’m sure Sand will do what he can to support him, but he needs to do it for himself not just because Sand told him to. This time he has attended rehab, yes still for Sand, but this time because he wants to, he chose to go, he chose to take the steps to stop hurting the person he loves. It’s a step on the road to recovery.

Being with me requires patience - as soon as he said that all I could think about were the comments from people who were so against Ray these last few episodes. His character indeed needs patience and understanding. Because of drink and drugs he’s not always in control of his actions, because of his past he doesn’t always behave appropriately or as you want him to. He’s emotional and he’s a mess. But he can also be adorable and kind and loving and make Sand smile. For those moments, Sand has put up with a lot. Like I said last episode, if Sand is strong enough and indeed has the patience, then I want for him to support Ray in getting better and continue to love him. Because yes, Ray deserves to be loved and happy.

Overall, this was a fantastic episode. I’m confused over Top and Mew, hopeful for Sand and Ray, and willing to support Boston and Nick in figuring out what they want to be to one another. I would like for the truth to come out about Atom, and for Boeing to get lost and just do one lol.

I’m really excited for the next episode. I can’t believe we’re so close to the end.

#only friends the series #only friends episode 10 #only friends ep10 #Every week I love Ray more #Please let him and Sand be happy #firstkhaotung #sandray #bostonnick #neomark #topmew #forcebook

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spooksyanderefactory · 7 months

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What if the anxious person noticed Ram was getting weirdly gaslighty or felt bad about constantly asking for him to escort them and started trying to find better ways to cope the majority of the time? Possibly slowly doing so without the requests for help, maybe even without telling him depending on whether they spotted the gaslighting or not?

he'd cry. Genuinely, he'd think you didn't want him anymore. Not that it would stop him. He'll be with you even if you don't want him. Or craft a plot...

You had been a little nervous, but you couldn't put off doing your laundry anymore. Your washing machine broke down on Tuesday, and you didn't have the time nor the funds to fix it yet. You knew that you could have asked Ram for a new one, but you wanted to be a little bit more independent.

"I really don't wanna" You sighed as you entered the laundromat. It was quiet since it was eleven p.m. You spent the majority of the afternoon trying to convince yourself that it would be okay. You shoved your dirty laundry into the machine, pouring the detergent at the top, and slipping the quarters into the proper slit.

While waiting for the clothes to wash, you were scrolling through your phone. You got a text about an article from Ram. You quickly skimmed through it. It was about the rise in crime in Slickback City. Which is where you lived. Granted, it was never a safe city, but the rent was cheap. Down at the bottom of the article it made a special mention that laundromats were especially at risk.

'Did you read it?'

Ram's text message brought you back from reading the article.

'yeah' You texted back. You were surprised he was awake. Normally he sleeps pretty early.

'it's good you're home'

You freeze. You really did debate on telling him, however, you needed to learn how to do things on your own.

'yeah'

Right when you hit send, hear a shattering sound, as if a bat hit glass. You look over and that's exactly what happened. Trying to control your breathing, you look up and are face to face with a huge man. He was about 6'5. You looked at the bat, riddled with nails and glass. The bat was no longer structurally sound but was far more intimidating. Yeah... what is breathing? you forgot.

"I'm merciful, just don’t scream and I won't put my bat through your fuckin skull," He muttered near your ear. Honestly, you couldn’t even scream if you wanted to, everything was caught in your throat. You just nodded. He turned away and signaled to the rest of his gang.

'help' was all you texted to the first contact in your messages, which was always Ram. You shoved your phone back into your backpack. You were still struggling to calm down because all you're fears were proven right. You shut your eyes, hoping that everything would just fade away. Suddenly, you were picked up.

"Sorry, I was late," Ram was holding you, "I was getting the police."

You turned to see police arresting the gang. Ram was carrying you back to his car. He placed you gently into the passenger seat.

"That was probably really scary, why don't you stay with me the night. You know my family specializes in security, and my mom misses you... You were always her favorite."

You laugh. His mom did like you but liked your friend Robin more. It was always an ongoing joke between you and Robin. Although, you hadn't seen Robin since high school graduation... Apparently, Robin moved out of Slickback City.

"Yeah, yeah, Maybe I am now" you joked to lighten your own mood. He locked the car.

"I'm going to talk to the police now, before we head to my home real quick, okay?"

"Don't I have to go?" You weren't sure how it even works, but usually don't the police question the people who were there.

"It's okay, They'll probably get your testimony later. Plus it's late, You need sleep so just rest for now"

It was clear that Ram wasn't going to budge. You just got comfortable in his car.

___

Ram couldn't have been more pleased. He headed back inside the laundromat. The 'police' had uncuffed the 'gang members'. The tall leader of the group grinned.

"How did it go, boss?" his gruff voice was full of amusement. He started working for Ram about three years ago. He found Ram's 'little crush' really fun to watch, plus the pay is really good.

"I think it worked perfectly, Griff," He began slipping a few hundred dollar bills to Griff, "The rest will be transferred into your bank accounts."

They all were employed under the Bright Corporation. Although Ram was the heir, he had to make sure he only used his own branch of workers. His parents didn't care if he used vast amounts of money, the only limit was he had to use it in a smart way. When he was younger, he made PowerPoints to convince his parents of something. Now, he was already running a small branch. And this is a worthwhile investment. Every time you thought of going out without him, you'll remember this time, and be less inclined to go out without him.

Plus you might be scared enough to want to sleep in the same bed with him. A strong bonus.

"Hey, boss, You there?" Griff was waving his hand in front of Ram. Ram coughed and almost choked on his spit,

"yeah?"

"You dreaming about your 'little crush', huh?" Griff loved teasing Ram about you, "Thinking about all the different positions? They are cute and small. You thinking about them kneeling and-"

Ram had hit Griff in the thigh with a hammer pretty hard. Ram had calmed down after hitting Griff again,

"One: everyone is small compared to you, Griff. Two: Don't even talk about them in that way ever again."

"yeah, yeah, sorry boss" Griff half apologized, Ram's reaction was still funny to him, "Go to your 'little crush' or they might start thinking something is wrong."

"Bye," Ram excitedly walked back to the car.

"Crazy bastard," Griff muttered while counting the bills. He turns to the rest of the gang, "Let's go get drunk!"

Everyone cheers in excitement.

___

You were asleep, in his car. It was very comfortable with the seat warmers. Ram sat in the driver's seat. He gently taps you awake once you reach his home.

"huh?!" You weren't even aware of the driving.

"Come on in, we still have your 'unofficial' room" Ram jokes as he ushers you inside. You didn't even change, you just went back to sleep once you reached the bed. You were too exhausted with the day to even stay awake for a moment longer. so you slept.

#yandere ocs #yandere male #yandere ram #Ram is the only one with lackeys. He just pays them.#Also Griff acts like an Older Brother in the worse sense #Just loves messing with Ram

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penny-nichols · 2 years

Text

Ok. Penny headcanons post here we go

-disaster bi

-half Japanese half Ashkenazi Jewish

-let cody into the studio actually. Intentionally leaves the vent uncovered because just like Maya, she feels bad for them. Literally only covered it up when she was told to and even then did a shitty job at it

-Adrian Andrews's cousin

-Adrian put in a good word for her at Global and that's what helped her land the job.

-Part Time (at least before AAI2, maybe after as well) going to college for film

-wants to be a director but would probably literally be fine doing anything except acting

-Stage Fright and Camera Shy

-Definitely has a crush on Maya

-Maybe has a crush on Matt (pre reveal, anyway). Literally she's just like "but he seems like such a nice guy!" While Adrian and Cody are just telling her that this man is Red Flag Central

-big of heart, dumb of ass

-Was kinda nervous around Will before 1-3 not in a like "he's scary" way but in a "he's cool and I look up to him" way. Literally after 1-3 realizes that he's Just Some Guy. Will absolutely talk about him casually forgetting that he's famous.

-probably goes on friend dates with Will and people are like "awww are you two dating?" And they just look at each other. And then say no. Because they're not

-literally though her and Will are besties. Would literally have a teen slumber party if they could

-was the person who had to explain to Cody's mom that he kinda sorta saw a murder.

-"hey I heard you like bad girls, because Im bad... At everything" *tries to do a cool lean but misjudges where what she's trying to lean on is and just collapses*

-strong but built like a twig.

-Will literally just wipe her glasses on her sweater if she needs to clean them

-cosplayer

-was the steel samurai for every year for Halloween once it came out. Would've been the Copper Samurai (one of the brothers from the Nickel Samurai) Halloween 2018 and was already starting to plan her costume out before 2-4 happened at which point the Nickel Samurai was soured

-Pretty ok at sewing and crafting in general, and can get pretty creative with things sometimes. Hot glue is her best friend

-Will talk about studio drama but also doesn't like saying mean things unless the person is like. SERIOUSLY bad. So the studio gossip is just funny stories that happened on set. Like "WP accidentally got the Steel Samurai costume stuck on. It took us a solid 20 minutes to get him out without destroying it"

-that being said she WILL shittalk Matt, Dee, Jack, and eventually Sal

-initially she's really inspired by sal and a big fan but as she becomes less starstruck and a bit more critical of the media she consumes she's just like "oh wow he is uh... Really leaning heavily into the misogyny here huh. Okay then."

-Sal is just some guy (derogatory) now and if she wasn't so polite she would try to explain why some of what he's doing is maybe not the best. She wouldn't even explain it impolitely she just cannot talk to people especially those in positions of authority over her

-Has anxiety (runs in her family, Adrian also has it) but WILL go "Excuse me! He asked for no pickle!" If something happens to WP. If something happens to her she's just sitting there like "if I tell anyone about this I will explode"

-her and Blackquill are besties actually. Went to the same high school and they are Absolute Nerds. Probably both quiet kids so they sat in the back of the class together. Solidarity

-they still kept in touch after HS but didn't really see each other. When she found out about his conviction she just felt... Not exactly betrayed but disappointed that there was yet another person she thought was a cool chill dude who committed murder

-she starts working on the Steel Samurai and is SO struggling not to spill the entire plot to Simon because she KNOWS he'd love it she fucking KNOWS

-anyway after DD Penny FINALLY gets to see him again (she does NOT pay attention to the news though someone had to tell her "hey did you know there's a prosecutor called the twisted samurai") and she just runs up to him and hugs him. He's like a full foot taller than her.

-also she's a great hugger. Not making this up Capcom told me

-Anyway they get boba and talk like once a month it's nice they're chillin

-WILL ramble and go off on tangents if you let her. The only reason half of Turnabout Samurai ISN'T a Penny Monologue is because she's just internally like "must not bring up my blorbos this is a murder investigation"

-Clumsy as hell. If Adrian hadn't been the one to break Ami's urn, she would've.

-could probably eat eldoons without flinching honestly. Basically lived off packaged ramen in high school and now doesn't CARE about the salt as long as it's real ramen

-will casually name drop celebrities but she's not even trying to brag or anything she just forgets that other people know them.

-"yeah I was talking with John the other day and he said-" "who the fuck is John?" "The kid at work. Not Cody, the other one." "...Marsh?????" "Yeah, so you do know him!"

-literally idk who she'd be talking to in that scenario though. Her friends are like. Work friends, Simon, and Maya

-although literally most of the prosecutors office is like. Neutral airing on the side of positive to straight up positive about her (at least those who remain prosecutors). Paynes Don't care. Simon is her bestie actually. Klavier definitely did SOMETHING at Global during 7yg and she wasn't like... Weird about him being famous? (Although he probably barely remembers her), Sebastian is just like "oh yeah, that lady John works with. I remember everything about her" (<lies. He does feel like she's a good person though because John isn't like. Actively bitching about her which he will do about people he hates. #courtneysibs). Edgeworth is in a Steel Samurai forum with her. She has no idea who he is but he definitely remembers her and is just like "Steel Samurai... Good". Basically the only current Prosecutor who DOESN'T like her already is Nahyuta and that's because they got into an argument on the Steel Samurai forum about the Plumed Punisher.

- will be a 30 year old involved in shipping discourse but she's NOT on the bad side unlike so many 30 year old shipping discoursers. She's just like "fiction can affect reality. Die mad about it"

-I wanna hope that eventually she does get to direct. I want the ultimate steel samurai fan to run the series she deserves it

-also trying to get into shipping discourse with her would be extra funny if she ran the series.

-you think she's some rando who occasionally posts Steel Samurai news and art but she tells you "I did NOT introduce a fifteen year old for you to ship him with a whole ass grown man". You just got called out by the current showrunner of the steel samurai. #ratio

-sorry for slipping into second person now anyways Im gonna post

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majestyrising · 1 year

Text

03:00.txt

Notes: Starkiller drowns her sorrows. Only content warning here is sex, drugs, and rock and roll. Usual Neo Necropolis stuff.

Pings:

It’s 3:00 in the morning. That’s what the display on Starkiller’s visor says anyway, when she lets her gaze drift to the left to acknowledge the readout. She’s been here for 5 hours, give or take.

Usually she’d be rocking out with Star Eater, her bestie and absolute favouritest boy in the entire universe, or throwing back colourful drinks with a stranger, but tonight she’s sitting on a stool overlooking the Neo Necropolis skyline and feeling sorry for herself.

She slipped away from the group about an hour ago. She can see in her mind’s eye how it went down after she left: Saint and Daiquiri probably wanted to go after her for more hot gossip but Seven told them to leave her alone, give her space.

Or maybe they thought her hot gossip was too sad to be interesting. If that’s the case she’s even more glad they’re not here. She definitely couldn’t handle Daiquiri’s well meaning pity or Saint’s straight up rudeness right now.

Anyway, the point is that she’s been using that space to wallow in her own misery and make her way down a big ‘ol bottle of coconut vodka.

A few people have come by to try to chat her up but all quickly lost interest. It’s no surprise that there’s someone else who hovers over her shoulder. She just waits for whatever corny or gross thing they’re going to slur out.

“I thought that was you,” says a voice that genuinely surprises her, “You got a seat going?”

✩

It’s Kingslayer who sits down next to her.

His iridescent bracers shimmer as he does so, the neon of his digitised palm tree tattoos flickering.

“Hey,” he says, “Real nice night out, right?”

She looks him up and down, ignoring the readouts from her visor since she’s not here to size him up. She’s just curious; he’s not here to party, that’s for sure.

He’s still wearing his usual high collared jacket and the guns (plural) on his belt are prominent.

“Yeah,” she says, without much inflection.

She tries to rouse herself, there’s no need to worry him, everything’s fine! But that’s harder than it looks to pull off. It’s a painful thing to try to remove the permanent scowl of sadness that’s now basically just what her face looks like.

“You here with Gat?” she asks, hoping to distract him from the pretty depressing state of the table they’re, littered with shot glasses and salted peanuts as it is.

Speaking of peanuts, she grabs a handful and shoves it into her mouth.

“Mhm,” he confirms, with a quirk of his lips, “He’s downstairs, wanted me to leave him for a bit. Guess I’m cramping his style.”

“I guess having the big scary bodyguard looming over you does hurt the prospects of getting dicked the fuck down,” she says, with a snort.

Kingslayer makes a face at that, shaking his head as he wrinkles his face as if he’s sucked on a lemon. He punctates that by slamming his hands down palm open on the table.

“God, do not say that ever again! I’ll pay you for your silence,” he groans, still shaking his head before he tilts it to the side and through his sour expression, adds, “He doesn’t do any of that whilst we’re on the clock.”

He points at the shot glasses, some of them full, and she nods. He grabs the closest one and drinks.

Woof, it’s strong. Good stuff, though. Makes sense, considering she doesn’t have to pay to drink here.

“Nah, just a surprisingly squeaky clean and flighty contact,” he explains.

At that her visor scrolls an incredulous ‘ヽ(°〇°)ﾉ’.

“In BLISS?” she asks, with a snort, “A squeaky clean dude who wants to buy guns, in the biggest club in the city?”

“I know, I know,” Kingslayer laughs, bumping her knee with his, “Insane, I know. But he was looking at me like he thought I’d kill him for looking at me funny!”

“You?” she says, grabbing another shot and throwing it back, pausing to choke on it before she adds, “You wouldn’t hurt a fly!”

He puts his hands on the bar stool to turn it in her direction.

“Oh, I mean, elite ex-exaltee force soldier who’s now a merc working for an arms company?” he chuckles, not unkindly, “I’m like the epitome of a dude doing the worst possible thing with his skillset. Can’t blame anyone for being skittish.”

“Well I still think you’re a pacifist on the inside,” Starkiller says, smacking her lips as the alcohol burns its way through her.

“It’s Neo Necropolis, no one is a pacifist,” he counters, amused by the very thought.

She just shrugs, so the two of them sit in amicable silence, listening to the ambience of the very drunk patrons around them and the clink of glasses.

✩

The amicable silence slowly turns tense, though.

“So,” he ventures, drawing the word out, “Elephant in the room.”

“Nope,” she says immediately, filling up another shot and throwing it back with gusto, “No elephants here, buddy.”

Her shoulders are tensed as she taps her foot against the bar stool, now staring dead ahead at the skyline instead of in his direction.

“Sorry SK,” he replies apologetically, “I gotta ask why you’re not cutting some absolutely insane shapes on the dancefloor like I hear you enjoy doing.”

She shakes her head without replying, pouring the entire line of shots once again with a surprisingly steady hand.

“I gotta know why you’re in, uh-”

He gestures at her entire deal, from the way she’s surrounded by the wreckage of a bender and crushed peanuts, to the shocking neon of her outfit seeming drab and sad.

“In this whole sitch,” he says, with a frown.

She groans, looking up at the sky despairingly. Maybe she’s hoping the Stormcatcher will strike her with a bolt before Kingslayer can continue his line of questioning.

“Look,” she says, “I don’t wanna talk about it. I’m really happy to see you, but don’t push it, okay?”

He lets out a quiet sigh as she takes another shot. She sure can hold her liquor, he notes, considering she’s still understandable despite most of her blood being straight up lighter fluid at this point, he assumes.

“No can do cap’n,” he presses on with a solemn nod, “What’s up?”

“It’s nothing,” she protests, her tone annoyed, “Drop it already, King.”

For a moment he does, and the two of them sit in further awkward silence.

✩

Until it’s too much, anyway.

“I’m not gunna drop it-”

“For fuck’s sake!” she yells.

It gets the attention of the people around them as she pants angrily. Kingslayer holds up his hands and waves for everyone to carry on, which they do.

“Okay, okay, fine, fine fine fine! It’s about Star Eater, okay?!” she hisses, leaning up into his personal space with the energy of a feral cat.

She grabs another shot and downs it, savouring the burn as more of her inhibitions flit away, the misery still there but fought by the simmer in her stomach.

“Uh huh,” Kingslayer says slowly, nodding as he does and she sits back down where she was, “Yeah, okay, cool.”

His throat bobs as he swallows, knowing damn well he’s just pouring salt into this very obvious wound.

“What about him?” he asks tentatively.

Her chest heaves in a mighty sigh as the alcohol swirls around her brain, both making things better and a lot worse.

“You know,” she slurs out, after a couple of moments of trying to fight the words in her brain into making sense.

Kingslayer rests his chin on his fist, clucking his tongue.

“Mm, guessing game, okay,” he says, “I know that you guys are super tight, like twisted up in a pretzel tight.”

She hums in agreement. Her visor scrolls a ‘o(>ω<)o’ in addition, as if he needed further clarification.

So they didn’t have a fight. Which is good!

“I saw he was with Zion,” he adds, thoughtfully, “They’re getting close, I guess?”

He couldn’t see much, except that Star Eater and Zion were in a booth together seemingly having a very private conversation.

She fills up another shot glass without looking at him.

“Uh huh,” he notes, brow furrowing, “Okay, then…”

He trails off, squinting at her face- what of it is exposed, anyway- as her expression twists and her visor reads a ‘(⇀‸↼‶)’.

What else could it be? She’s not an argumentative person, and Zion is a dick but he didn’t seem to be acting cruelly to Star Eater in the moment-

“Oh,” he says, “Wait. You.”

Oh dear.

✩

He rubs the back of his neck, the unfortunate reality of the situation now settling in his mind.

“You have feelings for him,” he says slowly, at which she viciously knocks back her next shot.

They’re tight as they come, soul mates for sure, perfect for each other. There’s just one problem.

Star Eater is about as gay as they come.

Oh, and since they’re inseparable, Starkiller will never have the space to get over her feelings.

“How long?” he asks, watching as the lights reflect off the shot glasses.

“Doesn’t matter,” she mumbles, though her teeth catch her bottom lip.

“I mean, I feel like it does,” he begins, but her head snaps up as she shoots him a nasty glare from behind the visor. He can feel it, making the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

She throws her hands up in the air in frustration, coming dangerously close to slamming her visor into the table before she leans almost all the way back on the bar stool.

“What do you want me to say?” she yells before her shoulders slump in defeat, hand snaking out to grab another glass and throw the rest of it back.

She lets out a deep, deep sigh that seems to come from the seat of his soul.

“What, hey, I know it’s not my fuckin’ biz but when I see you with other guys I feel like I want to eat glass,” she rants, visor glowing as she does, “And now you’re going through so much because of Zion and it makes me feel like my heart’s being turned inside out?”

She licks her lips, eyeballing the empty shot glass and dragging the next one closer as Kingslayer shifts his weight from left to right, his lips a thin, concerned line.

“That I don’t know if there’s a combination of drugs that’ll numb the way I feel anymore?” she continues, her anger and sadness simmering in her voice, “That if he asked me for the moon because it’d make a sick disco ball I’d grab handholds of stars to get the damn thing myself?”

Kingslayer hums softly, leaning his elbows on the table.

“I don’t know,” he says, lightly, “I feel like that kind of spontaneous declaration of love would get you a penthouse invite straight to my heart.”

He pauses for a moment, turning it around in his head.

“If I was Star Eater,” he clarifies, “And you weren’t my sister.”

Her visor scrolls ‘(μ_μ)’, which he acknowledges with a snort. His attempts at humour haven’t hit home just yet, it seems, but he’ll keep trying.

✩

They sit in silence as Starkiller dejectedly runs a finger along the rim of her shot glass.

“Did… this help?” Kingslayer ventures quietly, “You look like you feel worse.”

She shrugs at that, entire body limp and radiating fatalistic self loathing so strong it’s coming off her in waves.

“I don’t know,” she says, simply.

Kingslayer cringes at that, pouring himself a small shot and throwing it back. It burns in the back of his throat pleasantly, unlike the measure of guilt he feels about poking this topic.

“Sorry,” he says lamely.

“Nah,” she slurs, before throwing back the shot and shaking her head as she does so. If it’s because she’s trying to make him feel better or because the alcohol is catching up to her, he can’t say.

She sways slightly on the bar stool, the neon lights of the signs plastered on the buildings nearby reflecting in her visor.

Maybe it is catching up to her.

“It was nice to talk to you about it,” she says, rolling her head to the side to look at him with a placid if sad look, “We should talk more.”

He smiles, putting a friendly hand on her shoulder and giving it a soft squeeze.

“Agreed,” he says, before lifting both hands in an open shrug, “I guess we’re both still realising that’s an option, eh?”

She snorts in amusement, continuing to sway in a rhythm of her own choosing.

“Right?” she chuckles, lips curling into a smile, “Prank of the century to pull that shit on your own kids.”

Kingslayer pounds a closed fist to his chest and juts his chin up, taking a deep breath.

“Oh, if only I could go back in time to those bullies who beat me up for being an only child,” he proclaims, “I could show them- nay nay, school-hood cretins, I have a kickass older sister who I didn’t even know existed!”

He looks at her with a sharp grin, mods in his eyes shining in the moonlight.

“And then you’d come in and they’d all go ‘ooooo’, and you’d kick their asses, or something,” he says, his tail flicking.

“Sick,” she says with a faux-sage nod, “I genuinely can’t tell if you’re joking about the bullies, though.”

His grin widens and widens.

“I’ll never tell,” he says, sticking his tongue between his teeth, “I’ll take it to my grave, in fact. Then you’ll have to come dig me up and jack into my corpse to read my mind in cyberspace, and you’ll be like, son of a bitch, he was telling the truth!”

He pours himself another shot and takes it quickly.

“Or, you’ll be like, awh hell no, he was lying, I dug up his rotting corpse for a stupid joke and now I’m booboo the fool.”

She smiles at that. They smile at each other.

He’s glad that his stupid jokes can at least make her smile. They’re certainly not as close as either of them would like to be, but they’re getting there.

✩

After a while she looks past him and nods forward, towards the bar.

“Your boss is here,” she says, giving him a slight kick in the shin.

Kingslayer looks over his shoulder to see Gat at the bar.

He doesn’t actually stick out, because he’s wearing the clothes Coyote gave him, but the way he stands with such delicate professionalism still gives him away even at a distance.

Hopefully it only gives him away to Kingslayer, though. Would really suck if anyone else clocked who he is.

“Ah,” he says, “Guess I better go do my job so I don’t get fired. Or get Gat killed.”

“Yeah,” she mumbles, taking the bottle and pouring herself another round of shots.

He doesn’t love that, but he’s in no position to chasiste or stop her. He’s pretty damn sure he’d do the same thing in her shoes.

Hopefully he did some good, at least.

“Take care, sis,” he says, holding out a fist prime for bumping.

She stares at him for a moment before she raises her own and they share an excellent sibling fist bump.

He turns around to leave but pauses as she brings the shot glass to her lips and downs it.

“Just so you know,” he says, as casually as he can, “You’ll find someone who’ll pull down the moon for you too. You’re just way too cool not to.”

She turns her head in acknowledgement. He can see the ghost of a sad smile on her lips.

“Thanks,” she says, quietly. It’s almost lost in the noise of the crowd that’s forming.

✩

She watches him make his way through the noisy mess of inebriated patrons back to his employer, who greets him with a smile and a pleasant nod.

Alone with her thoughts yet again, she regards the horizon through the blurred lens of Stormcatcher knows just how many shots.

It’s gorgeous, isn’t it? Nothing but buildings for miles, dreamy neon and plumes of pollution floating into the night sky.

Right now she wishes she could turn her body into neon and float across the city, leave behind all these stupid pointless feelings that have refused to leave her no matter how obvious it’s become that they are, in fact, stupid and pointless.

But she can’t do that. She downs all the shots in order to grab the bottle and fill up another row. Enough of them and either she’ll do something to distract herself, or she’ll pass out and both are functionally the same thing. No more thinking.

No more thinking.

#flight rising #flight rising lore #fr lore #clan lore #my lore #neo necropolis #lucky star #starkiller #kingslayer

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helliontherapscallion · 3 years

Text

Safe

Pairing: SBI family x reader (platonic, one shot), BASED OFF FROM CHARACTERS NOT ACTUAL PEOPLE

Warnings: child abuse/neglect, bullying, alcoholism, death of a parent, mentions of panic attacks, injury, mentions of a dog’s death, mentions of eating disorders, mentions of suicide attempts, depression

Word count: 7,730

(A/N): if you’re not feeling safe at home or are being abused, please contact the proper authorities. Here’s the abuse hotline: 1-800-799-7233, my DMs are always open if you want to talk

You met Tommy and Tubbo when you were in third grade. You were a relatively quiet kid, the type to always keep to themselves and abstain from social activity. Mrs. Jansen, being the nice woman that she was, let the entire class choose their own seats.

“Welcome to your first day of third grade, class! I’m Mrs. Jansen and I look forward to getting to know all of you. As you can see, there are enough desks for all of you. You may sit with who you want.”

You shifted around uneasily and gripped your book in your hands as your classmates hurried to get the back seats. After every seat was taken, you walked to the only seat left in the front. You were between a girl and a boy. They introduced themselves as Dorothy and Samuel, and were relatively kind to you.

As the class passed their second week, two boys that sat in the back row made themselves apparent very quickly. They were both rambunctious, always disrupting the class with their giggles and whispers. Mrs. Jansen had warned them multiple times that she was going to separate them, but it seemed that they didn’t think she’d do it. One day, she finally had enough.

“Tommy, Tubbo. I’ve given you plenty of warnings, I’m going to have to separate you. Dorothy, Samuel, can you please switch places with them?”

You could feel dread wash over you. Why was she putting you between them?! What did you do wrong to deserve this? You could swear that you’ve done all your chores, you even made your mom smile at you! She never did that.

They pouted as they sat next to you, Tommy on your right and Tubbo on your left. You already missed Samuel and Dorothy. “Thank you. (Y/n), make sure they behave.”

You shrunk down into your seat as you felt Tommy’s glare burning holes into the side of your head. Tubbo, on the other hand, was watching the lesson with bored eyes and his chin propped up in his hand. You tried to take notes, but you kept getting distracted by Tommy’s heated glare. You were going to fall behind, you couldn’t have that. Mama wouldn’t like that.

After the final bell rang, you hurried out of the classroom to avoid Tommy’s wrath. You could hear him shouting for you to stop, but you never stopped until your hand was grabbed and yanked backwards in the empty playground. You fell back onto the pavement of the basketball court and whimpered at the sting in your palms.

Tommy glared down at you, “you gonna cry? Serves you right. Never tell on Tubbo and I. Got it?”

You tearfully nodded and he grinned maliciously at you, “good. Tubbo, let’s go. Wil and Tech’s probably waiting for us.”

The brunet was staring at Tommy with a shocked expression, unmoving. Tommy rolled his eyes and huffed before he grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the crowd of families. Tubbo looked back at you with an apologetic expression and watched as you looked at your scratched up palms.

You wiped at your tears as you stood up and started to walk home. Your neighbor’s dog behind the wired fence barked at you as you hurried past it. You never liked that dog; it was a drooling, angry, ugly furball. It scared you, but not as much as Mama did when she drank her adult juice. She was scary when she drank it. You tried hiding it from her once but she grounded you from eating dinner and snacks for half a month. You didn’t try to hide it again.

You trudged up the creaky wooden stairs of your porch and tried to open the door only to find it locked. You tried to knock on the door but Mama didn’t answer so you just sat on the front porch waiting for her to open the door. She did so when the sun was setting, surprise and then anger shining through her hazy eyes. She yelled at you before she sent you to your room for the night without dinner.

The next day when you were sitting alone at a lunch table, someone plopped down in the seat next to you. You jumped and scooted away from them, looking up only to see Tubbo. He was smiling at you.

“Hey, I’m really sorry about Tommy, he gets mad easily.”

You eyed him warily and clutched your open book, “...it’s okay.”

He grinned and scooted closer to you, peering over your shoulder at the book. “What’re you reading?”

“‘Harry Potter’.”

“Oh I love that book! My favorite character’s Ron, who’s yours?”

Surprisingly, the conversation was pleasant before he was dragged away by a glaring Tommy. You might actually make a friend after all. Later that day after school, Tommy once again stopped you in the school yard. This time, he shoved you to the ground and started to shout at you.

“You do not talk to him, freak! You’re gonna mess him up, he talks to me and me only. Do you unde-undastunend?”

You gulped and shakily spoke up, “yes, and it’s ‘understand’, not ‘undastunend’.”

His glare intensified before he reared back a fist. You yelped as you curled into a ball with your hands protecting your head. Before he could hit you, you heard the stomping of shoes against the concrete.

“TOMMY STOP.”

You could feel a hand on your back and a gentle voice asking if you were alright. You hesitated before you looked up to see an older boy with a mop of curly brown hair on his head and wire glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. He reminded you of Harry Potter. Looking past him, you saw a tall pink haired boy glaring and lecturing Tommy, holding the struggling boy in place with a firm grip on his elbow. Tubbo was just behind him looking down and shifting on the balls of his feet.

“I am so sorry about Tommy, are you alright? He didn’t hit you did he?”

You shook your head and the boy heaved a sigh of relief, “that’s good. I’m Wilbur and that’s Technoblade, we’re Tommy and Tubbo’s brothers. What’s your name?”

“(Y/n).”

He smiled at you, “that’s a lovely name.”

“Wilbur, let’s go. This one,” Technoblade shook Tommy’s arm, “needs to talk to Dad.”

You watched as Tommy’s movements stopped and he looked up with wide eyes. “No, please don’t tell Dad. Please-”

Wilbur stood and helped you up before grabbing Tubbo’s hand and lead him away, “you aren’t weaseling your way out of this.”

You watched the brothers leave, feeling guilt wash over you. You didn’t want to get him in trouble, punishments were the absolute worst. Even though he shoved you and almost punched you, he didn’t deserve any punishment. With guilt weighing down on your shoulders, you walked home. At least Mama was in a good mood, she made you some mac n cheese for dinner.

The next day, Tommy trudged up to your desk and put a tupperware dish on your desk before sitting down in his seat and ignored you. Tubbo sat in his seat next to you and smiled at you.

“Open it,” he jumped in his seat slightly as he watched your expression change to shock. In the container laid five chocolate chip cookies. You had only had cookies once in your life and that was during a class birthday celebration a year ago. “They’re our Dad’s secret recipe, I helped make them! Um, Tommy wanted to apologize to you.”

You glanced at Tommy. He was glancing at you over his shoulder and blushed a bright red when he saw you looking at him. Tubbo cleared his throat and gestured at Tommy. The blond crossed his arms and looked off to the side. “Sorry,” he mumbled halfheartedly.

After that, they started to sit next to you during lunch. Tommy was a bit cold towards you, but you found yourself beginning to relax around Tubbo’s friendly aura. Soon enough, you started to supply him with more than a few words per sentence. Tommy eventually got bored of eating in silence and would join your conversation. You three became thick as thieves that year, you even met their Dad. He was very different from Mama; he never yelled at you, he was always giving you snacks, and he even smiled at you often.

That house became like a second home to you. Eventually, you ended up spending more time at the Minecraft residence than you spent at home with your mom. Over the years, she got worse with her drinking. She was always passed out on the couch and when she wasn’t, she was swaying on her feet in the kitchen staring at a portrait with dazed, wistful eyes. You can remember when you first realized that she had a problem and always being unhappy and drunk was, in fact, not normal for a parent.

It was a warm spring day in seventh grade. Luckily, you had your health class with Tommy and Tubbo. You were currently learning about alcohol dependency and the effects it had on the body. The teacher listed all the symptoms your mom had; the uncontrollable urge to drink, the aggression, the shakiness and dizziness, everything. When you came to the realization that your mother might have a problem, the teacher started to explain the disorders and diseases that could come from heavy drinking, most of them having the potential to be fatal if the drinking persisted. You felt like you were drenched in icy water as your body seized up in fear for your mother. You stared unseeingly at your notebook at the symptoms of alcoholism and associated disorders. You didn’t want your mom to die. You had to do something before it was too late for her.

“(Y/n)?” You jumped and looked at the person who called your name. Tommy and Tubbo were giving you worried stares. “Are you okay?”

You shakily started to put your supplies away into your backpack. The class had been dismissed and you didn’t even realize it. “Y-yeah. It’s just- I’m worried.”

“Yeah, I’m worried too,” Tommy laughed as you followed the two out of the classroom and to the courtyard. “That essay’s gonna be awful.”

“Oh god we have an essay?”

“Yeah, Mr. Smithers assigned it to us before the bell rang, are you sure you’re okay? You’re usually on top of this stuff.” Tubbo threw a worried glance towards you.

“Yeah, just a bit distracted today. I uh, have to go home. Like right now, my mom wants me home right after school today.”

You sprinted off towards your house. When you reached your neighborhood and ran past the wired fence. The bulldog that lived there was now old and gray. You found out that his name was Buster and he was actually a total sweetheart if you slept next to him on the other side of the fence on more than one occasion. Buster watched from inside his doghouse as you sprinted into the house. Luckily for you, the door was unlocked and your mother was passed out on the couch surrounded by glass bottles. You locked the door behind you as you rushed over to her intensely watching for any sign of movement. She looked dead, her skin was pale, her hair matted, and her mouth gaping open showing off her yellow stained teeth. She wasn’t moving, were you too late?

Just as you started to panic, she snorted and started to breathe. You slumped in relief as you stepped over the beer bottles into the kitchen. The table was sparkly clean with a pristine picture frame resting in the middle, a stark contrast of the beer bottles that littered the floor and the piles of dirty dishes in the sink. It was of a man standing stiffly in a military uniform saluting at the camera with a stern expression. He was an exact copy of you. Well, you were an exact copy of him; that man was your late father.

“Hey Dad, how was your day? Mine was awful, I learned about alcoholism and cirrhosis today and- and I’m worried about Mom. She’s been drinking a lot lately.”

You stared at your dad’s face behind the glass as if expecting a response. You wanted some reassurance from the man. You wanted him to tell you everything was going to be okay and that he’d handle it so you could be a normal kid. Like usual, his steely expression didn’t budge one bit.

You sighed to yourself sadly and trudged to the refrigerator opening the door. The beer bottles stared back at you tauntingly. Your fingers twitched on the fridge door as you contemplated the consequences of throwing away the offending glass bottles. You remembered in second grade when you hid your mother’s alcohol she punished you by withholding food from you. She’d probably do worse this time, but the consequences were worth it if you were going to save your mother’s life.

It took you ten minutes of tossing alcohol into the garbage can until the fridge was left barren of the drink. Without the green bottles, the fridge was completely empty with the exception of milk and a few probably rotten eggs. You struggled to take the trash out to the curb and started to work on homework in your room.

At seven at night, you could hear her roll off the couch and stumble into the kitchen. A series of frantic rustling and banging sounded downstairs before you could hear pounding footsteps storm up the stairs. Your door flung open to reveal your red-faced, livid mother.

“What the fuck did you do?”

“M-mom I hid them because we learned about alcoholism and cirrhosis and-” You cut yourself off when she walked over to you with her arms extended towards your trembling frame. You tried to scoot as far away from her as possible, but she grabbed your shoulders with clammy but firm hands, shaking you roughly.

“Are you saying I have a problem?! You spoiled fucking brat, you’re the problem! Everything was amazing before you came and fucked up my life. You took him away from me. YOU FUCKING KILLED MY HUSBAND.”

You could feel tears start to drip down your cheeks as you remembered that day in first grade when you begged your dad to get you some McDonalds for dinner. When he relented, you cheered and your mom laughed at your excitement. She was so full of life back then; her hair was shiny and bouncy, her skin was unmarked and flawless, her eyes were lively and bright. Her laughter was perhaps your favorite memory of her. Then everything went to shit when your dad never came home and your mom got a phone call saying that your dad was killed in a car wreck on impact. You could remember your mother’s heart wrenching sobs as she collapsed to the floor and pulled you tight against her body. As if she was trying to protect what was left of her husband.

You were snapped back to reality when your mom shoved you back onto your bed. The happy, beautiful woman that you saw was replaced by the shell of a broken woman. Her silky hair turned dull, her smile turned into a grotesque scowl, her loving eyes turned cold. She truly was a husk of her former self.

“Stop crying, you’re not the one who’s life was ruined. I want you out of my house in ten minutes. You’re gonna not step foot anywhere near here for two weeks. If I even see you on my property before those two weeks are up, you’re fucking dead.”

You frantically nodded and watched as she stumbled out of her room. You packed what you would need in your spare backpack and ran out of the house past your mother sobbing and babbling incoherently to your dad. You flinched when you could hear a bang and the sound of glass shattering when she threw a bottle at your retreating figure.

You ran until you couldn’t run anymore. Your legs brought you to the park where you spent most of your childhood. Everywhere you looked, you could see glimpses of your mom and dad pushing you on the swing, Tommy and Tubbo running from you playing tag, Mr. Minecraft putting a bandaid on your scraped knee. Tears streaked down your cheeks as you pushed yourself up and went to your safe place. It was a little nook deep in the vegetation where nobody could see you. You originally found this place when you were playing hide and seek with Tommy and Tubbo. They never knew where you hid.

Tears moistened the soil underneath you as you pulled out a blanket you had hid in a plastic grocery bag and spread it out on the floor. You curled up on it and cried freely into your hands. You didn’t sleep much that night.

That was the first time she had kicked you out for that long. You barely ate in those two weeks, wolfing down any food you could get your hands on at lunch. Lunch for you was the small scraps of food that Tommy and Tubbo shared with you. Mom never packed you lunches or gave you money to buy things anymore. To make matters worse, they had told their dad that they thought you had some form of eating disorder.

About a week into your exile, you finally visited the Minecraft residence after avoiding them for a week. You remembered how the blond man pulled you aside into the kitchen. He gently sat you down and pushed a plate full of chicken and vegetables in front of you. You looked at him confused as he gestured towards the plate.

“Eat that, I heard you haven’t been eating much lately.” When you made no move to eat, he smiled at you. “Go ahead, it’s okay if you don’t eat it all. Just eat some of it.”

That was all you needed to hear, you began to eat quickly like a starving wolf. It’s been a while since you had more than half an apple to eat, let alone an actual homemade meal. When you were done, you looked up to see the older man looking at you worriedly.

“...Are you not getting enough food at home?”

You scrambled to find a lie, “my- my mom is away a lot on business trips. We don’t really eat much.”

His worried expression grew tenfold as he moved to kneel in front of you and put his hands on your shoulders. “You need to eat three meals a day, especially now that you’re growing. You’re always welcome here when your mom’s away, our door’s always open. Is she away now?”

“Yeah, she won’t be home until next week.” You felt bad for lying to the man that put bandaids on your scraped knees and took you to the father daughter dance in fifth grade when he heard that your dad was dead. He was always so kind to you, which you never quite understood. Despite feeling bad for lying to him, you felt incredibly relieved that you didn’t have to be alone anymore.

From then on out whenever she kicked you out, you went to the Minecraft residence. They welcomed you with open arms and treated you like you were a part of the family. You and Techno bonded over your love for reading and mythology, Wilbur made sure you took care of yourself, and Philza (he told you to just call him Phil at that point) treated you like his own child. You didn’t think that it was possible for you, Tommy, and Tubbo to be any closer than you already were, but you three became inseparable. You told them everything one night when you couldn’t sleep. You told them how you felt like you were the cause of your mother’s decline and your dad’s death, how she would usually punish you, her ‘hobby’. They were about to tell Philza, but you begged them not to. After a while of pleading and assuring them that she’d never hit you, they hesitantly agreed and made you promise to call them whenever you felt unsafe in your home.

You kept to that promise, calling them whenever she would get too drunk to know what she was doing. They would calm you down from panic attacks late at night and invite you to their house in the daytime. They felt like your actual brothers and you started to refer to them as such. You three gave each other a shoulder to lean on and gave each other comfort when needed. One night when you were in your freshman year, however, your mother caught you sneaking out to see them after she sent you to your room. That was when she started to hit you.

Just as you were about to sneak out the front door, your mother started to scream at you incoherently. When you flinched away from when she got up in your face, she became even more enraged.

“WHERE WERE YOU GOING? I BET YOU’RE WHORING YOURSELF OUT, AREN’T YOU LITTLE SLUT?”

Without thinking, you yelled back at her, “I would never! Why-” You were cut off by a harsh slap to the cheek sending you to the ground. She quieted down and stared at you and her hand, a glint of shock shining through her dazed eyes. Without a word, she turned around and left to go talk to your dad. You sat there listening to her rant about how she failed as a mother, how she wanted to do better but she didn’t know how, how she wished that he was there with her. You scrambled up and ran to your room. You looked at yourself in the mirror, there was a bright red mark on your cheek in the shape of a hand. There was a small cut where her wedding ring connected with your cheek. A single drop of blood dripped down your cheek and curved down the dip of your chin before dripping onto your shirt. Without doing anything else, you plopped down onto your bed and sobbed into your pillow, crying yourself to sleep.

When you woke up in the morning, you realized that you slept through half of the school day so it was useless to go to school now. You reached up to run a hand down your face only to hiss and pull your hand away. You once again looked at yourself in the mirror.

You looked terrible. Your eyes were bloodshot and swollen like you were crying in your sleep. Hair was sticking up in all directions and matted slightly. The slap mark was gone, but the cut had bruising around the edges with dried blood crusted on your cheek and on your pillow. It was a small cut, but it bled a surprising amount overnight. You couldn’t see Tommy or Tubbo like this, they’d flip out. Luckily for you it was a Friday and you had the weekend to heal.

Your mother gradually started to hit you more and more. It started off as a once-a-week thing whenever she was really angry, but then it divulged into something that would happen daily over the smallest things. You became her punching bag for her to release some steam. Makeup became your best friend at that point; you used what little savings you saved over the years for dollar store makeup.

Soon after it became a struggle to hide the cuts and bruises from Tommy and Tubbo, so you gradually started to avoid them. Your face, once synonymous with the Minecraft residence and Tommy and Tubbo, became a rarity. They tried their hardest to contact you, but you always dodged their calls. After a few months of you dodging Tommy and Tubbo, you finally told them that you didn’t want to be friends with them anymore.

It broke your heart to say it, but it had to be done. They were getting too close to the truth and you couldn’t have that; the government would take you away from your mom and she’d end up dead. You were the only one keeping her alive at this point, she lost all motivation to eat. The only thing she did nowadays was hit you, drink, and hug your dad’s photo to her chest.

The beatings got to the point where you could barely walk without feeling pain. School became something that you’d rarely attend. Tommy and Tubbo stopped trying to talk to and call you. Buster, your previous confidant, had long since died so you were truly alone in the world. The neighbor’s yard looked barren without the dog house and the graying dog. The only person you had left was your mom.

When you had accidentally burnt dinner late at night, she completely snapped. She grabbed your arm and held it on top of the burner. Pain hit you immediately as you screamed and cried apologies to her. When you instinctively hit her with your other hand, she dug her nails into your arm and pushed your arm closer onto the burner. Nerve endings screamed at you to get away from the pain. The pain was becoming too much, so you looked on the countertop next to you for something to defend yourself with. A metal fork was lying close to your other hand.

You grabbed it and, with a distraught apology to your mother, drove the prongs deep into her arm. She screamed in pain and let your arm go. You ripped yourself out of her grasp and started to run for the front door. A force collided with the back of your shoulder making pain explode in the area. You didn’t know what happened at first, but after hearing the shattering of glass, you realized that she threw a beer bottle at you. You could feel the sting of alcohol and glass mingling with your open wounds on your shoulder. The sting was almost as bad as your arm, but you didn’t stop running especially when you glanced behind you to see her running at you with a knife raised and the fork protruding from her arm.

You flung open the door and sprinted out without bothering to close the door behind you. As your bare feet hit the sidewalk, you could hear your mother stop at the end of the stairs and shout at you to come back. You never stopped.

You didn’t stop until your feet took you to the Minecraft residence’s front door. Nobody was on the street as it was about eleven at night. You hesitated to knock on their door, you ignored the family for the past six months, and you weren’t sure if they even wanted you there. After five minutes of thinking, you just sighed as you walked back down the wooden stairs and walked back towards the sidewalk.

“(Y/n), what are you doing here?” You froze up at Tommy’s sleep riddled voice. You stayed frozen as you heard him stomp over to you. He placed a firm hand on your injured shoulder and forced you to turn around. His angry expression faded into a concerned one when he heard you start to sob and flinch away from him.

“Wha- shit are you bleeding?” You nodded slightly and he gently turned you back around to see a patch of darkened cloth on your shirt. You could feel him shaking as he grabbed your arm and pulled you into the house. He plopped you at the dining room table and told you to wait there. With that, he sprinted up the stairs and brought back a serious Philza holding a first aid kit.

When he saw you bruised and battered, you could hear him take in a sharp intake of breath and saw unbridled anger flash across his face. You flinched away from him when he approached you.

“Hey,” he said in a gentle voice, “I won’t hurt you. Can you show me where you’re hurt?”

You eyed him warily like a scared wild animal and reluctantly moved your burned arm away from your chest and showed it to him. This was the first time you saw your forearm; it was an ugly red that expanded up the majority of the underside of your forearm with skin burned off at the edges. Yellow, fluid-filled blisters were starting to form.

You could hear Tommy’s horrified gasp as he turned to run out of the room. You kept your gaze downwards as Philza warned you that he was about to put disinfectant on your wound. He apologized to you when you whimpered in pain at the sting of the alcohol on your exposed nerves. After he was finished wrapping your arm, he asked you to show him where else you’re injured. You turned around so he could see the growing patch of blood staining your now ripped shirt. You could feel him gently move your shirt to the side and heard him wince.

“Shit, there’s glass in here. I’m going to have to get some tweezers to get it out. Stay here, I’ll be right back.” You were then alone in the kitchen for a moment before he came back with a worried Wilbur and Techno in tow. The brunet pulled up a chair next to you and asked if it was alright to hold your hand. After you hesitantly nodded, he grabbed your hand and started to run his thumb over your knuckles. Techno held a light close to your shoulder as Philza started to tweeze out the green tinted glass from your shoulder.

Every time you would suck in air through your teeth and muffle your yelps with your other hand, Wilbur would whisper reassurances to you and hold your hand tighter. After the glass was out, the wound was disinfected, and wrapped in gauze, Philza told the boys to leave the room. He grabbed both of your hands and gave you the best reassuring smile that he could.

“Tell me what happened.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat as you felt tears well up in your eyes, “I tried Phil, I really did. She never got better no matter what I did.”

“What do you mean, are you talking about your mom?” You could hear the angry undertone of his voice. You tensed up and nodded.

“She… she needs help. She was never the same after Dad died, she started drinking. It started off with only one beer a day, but after seventh grade she was going through an entire case in a day. She’d punish me if I said or did anything about it. No dinner for a week was a popular one until she started to ban me from the house for weeks on end. She never went on business trips, Phil. She got a knife today. I-I thought she was actually gonna kill me this time, I was so scared.”

Without another word, he pulled you into a tight hug, letting you sob freely into his shoulder. “It was my fault, I couldn’t help her! She- she needed me and I couldn’t help her.” You said between sobs. He hugged you tighter and started to rub your back, making sure to avoid your shoulder. “None of this is your fault, you can’t help someone if they don’t want help. Sometimes you can’t fix someone who’s too far gone.”

“Am I too far gone?”

“No, you aren’t. We’ll help you through this, we won’t let anybody hurt you ever again. You’re gonna go on to live a good life.” You passed out in his arms after a while of crying.

When you woke up, you were in Tommy and Tubbo’s room. The two boys jumped to your side and pulled you into a tight group hug. After you tried to apologize to them for how you treated them in the past six months, they shushed you and just sat there in silence hugging you.

Later that day you found out that your mother was found by your neighbor on the front porch with her wrists slit and empty beer bottles surrounding her. She was breathing, but just barely. Currently she was in an unstable condition in the hospital. You had a full breakdown when you found out that she almost killed herself because of you. You had run out of the house and to your safe place in the park. You hadn’t been there in a few years, so you hoped that it was still there.

Sure enough, it was still there albeit a bit overgrown. The blanket in the plastic bag was in the same place where you left it. You had no idea how long you were sitting there crying and having a panic attack, but when you came to your senses it was dark outside. You could hear crickets chirping and the rustling of leaves in the entrance of your hideout.

A brunet head poked itself in and smiled when he saw you. Tubbo fully came into the nook and gestured for someone to follow. Tommy’s blond hair made itself apparent before he joined you two inside.

“Nice little place you have here. It’s… homey.” Tubbo rubbed his hands together and blew warm air on them. You threw one side of the blanket at him and pulled your knees up to your chest. “Thanks, I used to sleep here sometimes… How’d you find me?”

“We could hear you,” Tommy pulled out his phone and typed something on it before pocketing it and sitting next to you. He covered himself with the blanket as Tubbo followed suit. You sat in silence before Tommy broke it.

“How long has she been hittin you?”

“Tommy!” Tubbo scolded him.

“She started about six months ago.”

“Six months ago… that was when you cancelled plans! I knew something was wrong Tubbo.”

Tubbo said nothing as he looked at you with a helpless expression. Just as he was about to open his mouth, you interrupted him. “It’s not your fault. It’s mine. Everything’s my fault. I’m the reason my mom’s in the hospital right now fighting for her life. I wasn’t there for her.” You would’ve started crying if it weren’t for the fact that you just felt so drained and numb.

“The fuck do you mean? She was about to kill you! You told us that she was about to stab you, what else were you supposed to do, just let her kill you?!” Tommy exclaimed.

You shrugged, “maybe. If she did she’d be happy, I was just a burden to her. I- I just wanted her to be happy and I would never be able to do that as long as I’m alive. If she killed me she wouldn’t be in the hospital right now.”

“What the fuck (y/n),” Tubbo shouted, startling you. He never shouts, let alone swears. “How could you even say that? I don’t know what I’d do without you, everything would be so boring and nothing would be the same without you. Fuck her happiness, she’s a wretched woman if the only way she can be happy is when you’re dead. Fuck her.”

You and Tommy stared at the seething boy in shock. He never shouted when he was angry, he only did that once when he found out that Tommy was being bullied. Whenever he sweared, that’s when you knew his emotions were hitting him at full force. Tommy quickly recovered from his shock to join him, “yeah fuck her, man! She can go suck a dick.” He was interrupted by his phone buzzing.

“Dad’s here, c’mon he’s worried sick about you.” After they helped you out of your safe place, they both wrapped an arm around your shoulders and walked you to the parking lot. You could see the headlights of the lone car in the lot turn off before the door swung open and a figure rushed towards you. You pushed yourself behind Tommy and Tubbo and hid behind them fearfully. They both turned around and put a hand on your shoulders. “It’s okay, it’s our dad.”

You peeked over their shoulders and saw a mop of disheveled, long blond hair. Philza looked like he was just told that there was an antidote for a fatal poison he just ingested, despite the flash of hurt that showed on his face. His blue eyes were accentuated by the redness of his sclera and you can see the relief painted in them. A gentle smile was on his face as he moved his arms up. Without another word, you launched yourself at him and pulled him into the tightest hug you could manage with your shoulder.

“Are your accusations true, Mx. (L/n)?”

Your gaze flickered over to your mother sitting on the other side of the courtroom. She looked at you with no expression on her face. Her wrists were wrapped tightly in a white bandage that was a stark contrast to the bright orange prison uniform and the silver of the handcuffs. She wasn’t the woman you knew when your dad was alive. The life was sucked out of her the second she picked up that phone call.

You looked back at the lawyer, “yes sir.”

“I have no further questions, your honor.”

“You may return to your seat, Mx. (L/N).”

You stood up and walked as confidently as you could past the dull eyes of your mother and back to your seat between Tommy and Tubbo. You held their hands tightly as the trial moved onwards. Buster’s owner even stepped up to the witness stand to give his testimony. Apparently he knew about the abuse from your late night conversations with Buster. He had contacted CPS and the police multiple times but the case was always dropped for some reason that you couldn’t bring yourself to ponder. A few of your previous teachers even showed up to give their testimonies. Their words, though true and slightly sweet, rubbed you the wrong way. If they ‘knew something was happening at home with you’, then why didn’t they do anything when it was happening? You tried to focus on the rest of the trial.

Your mother’s only witness was herself, and she did a piss poor job at it. She was basically digging her own grave with every word that came out of her mouth. The entire time, she was staring at you with her infamous dull eyes.

“Do you have any further points you would like to add, Mrs. (L/n)?”

“Yes, I have always loved my child. They were my husband’s pride and joy, the splitting image of him. Their rightful place is safe with their real parent at our home.”

You could feel Tommy attempt to stand up, but you pulled him back down; now was not the time for him to start yelling in anger. Tubbo squeezed your hand in reassurance and glanced at you. You were staring at the woman you called your mother with pain and hate filled eyes. You wished her words were sincere, but you knew fully well that they weren’t. The words that left her mouth would’ve been one hundred percent true and genuine when your dad was still alive, but he’s buried six feet under in a military cemetary now and he has been for years. You would’ve given anything, even your own life, for those words to be true a month ago, but you knew better now. Mothers don’t treat their kids like this, they’re supposed to give their children their unconditional love and take care of them. As far as you were concerned, she was no longer your mother. She forfeited that title the second she turned to the bottle. Philza is and will always be more of a parental figure than she’ll ever be.

After the jury left to discuss, the court was in a recess. You slipped out of the room and speed walked to the bathroom. You looked at yourself in the mirror. You could see heavy eye bags under your dull eyes. The dullness of your eyes, to your horror, reminded you of your mother, so you splashed your face with water. That fixed it, your eyes were slightly brighter. You could still see the faint outline of the scar on your cheek from when she first hit you. Small scars littered your face from the more recent wounds she gave you before you ran.

A knock sounded at the door, “(y/n), the recess is almost over.” It was Techno.

You patted your face dry and went to leave the bathroom. The pink haired boy that you now saw as your older brother was waiting patiently for you on the other side. He put a gentle hand on your shoulder and led you back to the courtroom. There, the rest of the Minec- no, your family was waiting for you. Just as you reached them, the judge announced that the jurors would be arriving back. The entire courtroom stood as they walked in.

“Have you reached a verdict?” The judge asked.

“We have.”

“Mrs. (L/n) and Mr. Langsburg, would you stand and face the jury? You may read the verdict.”

“We the jury of the state court find the defendant guilty under the charges of child abuse and child neglect.”

Tommy clapped a hand on your shoulder as Tubbo squeezed your hand. They both smiled widely at you. You, however, didn’t acknowledge them. You were only staring at the empty eyes of your mother as she was looking at the jury. Her reaction was akin to her breaking a pencil, like it didn’t matter to her. Like all the years abuse that she put you through didn’t matter was as trivial as breaking a pencil.

“So say you all?”

“Yes, your honor.”

“I hereby sentence Mrs. (L/n) to twelve years in the state penitentiary with no opportunity of parole. Mr. Philza Minecraft shall be bestowed the custody of Mx. (Y/n) (l/n) as they do not have any next of kin. Court is adjourned.” With that, she banged the gavel and the courtroom exploded in the bustling of people. You never took your eyes off from your mo- no, the monster with the dull eyes as she picked at something in her nails boredly. Just as she looked up to meet your gaze, Tommy pulled you into a tight hug, lifting you off the ground slightly. You were passed around the family in the courtroom for their individual hugs. Philza’s was comforting, Tubbo’s was congratulatory, Wilbur’s was warm, and Techno’s was slightly awkward, yet soft.

At home, you spent most of your time in the spare room Philza had given you. He had offered to help you decorate it, but you had no idea where to start. You were never allowed to have decorations in your old room. You kept the room simplistic and your possessions light.

You often stared at your dad’s portrait on your nightstand wondering what your life could’ve been like if you never asked him for McDonalds that day. Your family probably would’ve been stationed in who knows where and moved around often, as is customary in most military families. You probably would’ve never met Tommy and Tubbo in third grade. You probably would’ve never met your now older brothers and new father. You didn’t want to imagine a life without them.

After a few days of you being locked up in your room, Tommy and Tubbo came into your room with mischievous grins. You knew them like the back of your hand, so you knew the second you saw their faces that they were about to do something. You sat up and looked at them suspiciously.

“What are you doing?”

“We’re not doing anything, (y/n). Right Tubbo?”

“Right Tommy.” Tubbo nodded curtly. They still had grins on their faces. They walked over to your bed before they picked you up and walked you out of the room. You didn’t have the energy to fight them, so you laid limp in their arms. They eventually took you down to the living room and plopped you down onto the couch between them. Techno tossed them a blanket when they then used to wrap you tightly into a blanket burrito. The home screen of Disney Plus was pulled up on the TV and the curtains were drawn. Philza and Wilbur exited the kitchen with glasses of water and two big bowls of popcorn.

They smiled widely when they saw you squashed between your brothers, putting a bowl of popcorn in your lap and three glasses of water nearby. The two next to you dug into the popcorn as the rest of the family made themselves comfortable on the couch.

“What are we doing?”

“Movie night! We’re gonna binge the Marvel movies, your favorite!” Tubbo grinned at you, practically bouncing in his seat.

“Just double checking, the order is Captain America, Captain Marvel, Iron Mans One and Two, Incredible Hulk, Avengers, Thor-”

You cut Wilbur off with a mumbled “first Thor, then the first Avengers movie.”

“Glad I asked then! The timeline would’ve been thrown off.”

As the movies progressed, you started to finally feel like you belonged as a part of the family. Laughter came easier to you, mingling effortlessly with the family’s laughter. Every time you laughed at a scene, they would give you a smile and laugh alongside you. Eventually after about halfway through Captain America: The Winter Soldier, everyone had fallen asleep on the couch. Soft snores and the quiet sounds of the occasional fight scene filled the room as your eyelids started to close involuntarily. You looked around the room at the rest of your family. They all looked peaceful in their slumber. Tommy and Tubbo’s protective hold of their arms around your shoulders made you feel safe. It was in that moment that you realized that they would never let anyone hurt you ever again. You were a part of an actual, loving family. With that, you let yourself fall asleep into a peaceful slumber surrounded by the people that loved you the most.

General taglist:

@crybabyjabby @izzybobizzy13 @goldenstarofthunderclan @bunnyz-pxstel @averytiredfanfictionwriter @dcml04 @sparkling-gayyyy @bbigbbrainn @thaticecreambish @kiinokochii @satansphatass @bxkubitch @bxmentchildxx @roxy3457 @montygator17 @feverish-dove @the-fictionwriters-hairdo @jichuuchaeng

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astaroth1357 · 3 years

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Demigod MC Series: Nyx

Nyx is a primordial goddess and the Greek personification of Night - the mother of Hypnos, Thanatos, Nemesis, and many more. She's a mysterious figure in their mythos as there's little surviving info about her cult. What is known, however, is that she was portrayed as beautiful, powerful, and feared by Zeus himself.

Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes, Hades, Dionysus, Demeter, Athena, Hades Pt. 2, Poseidon, Ares, Hestia, Nyx

Lucifer

What happens when you take a being born from the darkness and place them in a realm of eternal night…?

The answer came when the MC first stepped out of the portal. Everyone in the room was wholly expecting a normal-looking, confused human they could get up to speed, however…

The MC's skin suddenly darkened until it was as black as a shadow, their clothes levitated around them as if they were defying gravity, and glimmering speckles dotted their skin like twinkling stars.

Even their eyes turned a pure, glowing white without irises or pupils… Like two crowning stars locked into a body made from the shimmering night sky...

They weren't human. At the time, Lucifer wasn't even sure he could say what they were... Breathtaking, certainly, but there was something else about them that he couldn't place… something… foreboding...

Diavolo must have had the same unease because Barbatos was put in charge of monitoring them. The butler would send reports to them both and the results would range from benign to nerve-racking...

They kept their distance from his brothers and most people, but their power seemed immense... Barbs would report seeing them making small items float or summoning a meteor shower from their fingertips!

Lucifer ended up actually tasting their powers only once. When they stepped in to protect Beel and Luke and he went to attack them…

The whole House began to shake and the candles of the tomb started going out one by one as the air grew intolerably heavy... He could have sworn he saw a vortex of… something... swirling at their feet...

He backed off immediately and Beel and Luke got off with a warning, mostly because he was trying not to look utterly petrified...

He's never met a more beautiful and dangerous creature in his life… Pact mark or no, this is probably the only person the firstborn will admit he never wants to have to fight because he'd lose, big time.

Mammon

He was expecting to find a human when he walked into the Student Council room, not an alien!!

Mammon was seriously scared of the MC when they first met because he legitimately believed they were an extraterrestrial sent to probe him!!... Or whatever else those scary movies say aliens do, lay eggs in his stomach?

He straight up avoided them like the plague until the Goldie incident more or less bound them together. But even then there was a distance between them he just couldn't place…

Naturally, it bothers a demon a bit if their master doesn't seem to like them, so he eventually cornered them one day to force them to tell him why they'd been running off!

As it turned out, the MC actually knew as little about their new form everybody else! They had been perfectly normal in the human world, but for some reason the Devildom supercharged them! They could tell that they were powerful, but had no idea how to control themselves yet and it scared them...

So Mammon became their first unofficial "coach." Not that he knew how to train them or anything, but he was the first person supportive enough to even try to help them learn their new powers.

It led to some… interesting misadventures. Like when the MC unexpectedly burst every water pipe in the House or when they got a little too frustrated and ripped the kitchen apart with an accidental twister, but hey, Mammon was always there for them at least.

Of course, because he's who he is, he's not above asking the MC to help him with his schemes for "training purposes…" Infiltration is more fun if you're weightless, after all!

Speaking of weightless… His favorite way to float is when the MC gets excited and hugs him. They can't help but levitate them both off the ground when they're that happy and it makes the whole hug that much sweeter.

Leviathan

It's… it's like he's in his very own Magical Girl anime!!! Uh, "I'm a Demon and this is My New Life with a Magic Starchild!!"-or something like that. 🤷‍♀️

He didn't even think their transformation was real when he first saw it! He really thought it was an elaborate body art cosplay but then their "freckles" rearranged themselves when he frightened them, so it had to be real!!

He'll declare that they're probably (literally) the coolest thing on the planet. They have the looks of an epic fantasy character plus insane powers to boot!

…though uh… they may need a training arc or two to learn how to control them… 😅

Since their powers are apparently tied to their emotions, Levi's seen them do a whole bunch of stuff that's not entirely on purpose... Like, they can make things float when they're happy and push everything down when they're sad.

So once he showed them one of those "tragic ending" animes for fun, but they cried so hard that they increased gravity and accidentally sent his bathtub crashing into the basement…

The worst of it is when they're mad, though. He made the mistake of making them play a rage game once and they ended up shattering all the glass in his room! His aquarium wall and Henry's fishtank included!!

They were able to make a zero G sphere of water in order to save Henry's life, but the cleanup was brutal… They were super sorry, but Levi took most of the blame himself anyway.

Honestly, he'd have been more mad but their body is clearly not something they can control just yet. Plus, it's so cool that he can put up with a little destruction anyway, you know?

Satan

Well, isn't that an interesting phenomenon?

Meeting a demigod is exciting enough, but one who reacted to the Devildom like that? It was pretty much unheard of!

Though he'd hate to admit it, Satan stalked the MC just as closely as Barbatos for a little while... But only because he was a little unsure of how to approach them…

They kept to themselves and their powers seemed "a little" unpredictable (see Levi's orphaned bathtub). Thankfully, Mammon ended up recommending the MC to him since Satan's one of the smartest guys around.

Satan made a better coach than Mammon, anyway. He was far more knowledgeable and actually able to hypothesize the strength their powers, which came in handy because uh… well…

Look. The whole realm 'ooohs' and 'ahhhs' over their appearance but they're all fools - no morons - for not noticing what potential the MC actually has. Satan was positive that the MC is the most powerful being in the Devildom, without question.

They had a complete control over gravity, atmospheric pressure, and even astronomical bodies… If they wanted to, they could literally pluck a planet out of orbit and send it careening into who knows what!

Want more terrifying? They could create near-matterless vacuums at the palms of their hands with the potential to suffocate, crush, or rip apart basically anything they wanted with implosive force….

Does he even need to spell out why that's utterly horrifying??

At least the MC seemed to be a genuinely nice person who wanted to control their powers better… Their emotions often got in the way but they tried their best.

He likes the MC a lot, but he'd be lying if he said that they didn’t also terrify him… They may have been pretty normal in the human world, but give them endless night and they may as well be a god...

Asmodeus

Oh… My… Father!!! They're GORGEOUS!!!!

From the moment their transformation completed, Asmo had never seen anything like them! He said that they were like a living droplet of the night sky!

They were magnificent!! They were radiant!!! He was posting pictures of them before they had even said their first sentence!!

So Asmo was pretty much patient zero for any and all rumors and hype about the MC after that... Apparently someone like them only visits the Devildom every one, maybe two, centuries so everybody was bound to get talking.

Thankfully, the MC's habit of ducking out of the House kept them from becoming a full on sideshow. Unfortunately, however, Asmodeus was relentless!

He'd beg them to try modeling or make videos with him because of their unique look! He'd lay on the praises, but it was a little... much. It wasn't until Mammon finally stepped that he backed off a bit.

Asmo sometimes forgets that not everyone puts as much emphasis on looks as he does... Though he meant well, he hadn't realized that the MC maybe wouldn't appreciate him making such a big deal out of their appearance change. Pretty as it was, it was still involuntary to them...

Of course, after they told him this he cooled off and stopped putting them out there so publicly but even still he could hardly keep his eyes off of them... unless he was looking in a mirror, of course. 😘

A fun fact about the MC: when they blush, their skin makes a pink nebula. And thanks to his antics, Asmo has seen their lively pink cheeks many, many times… 🤭

Beelzebub

Belphie would like them, wouldn't he...?

Beel's first reaction upon seeing the MC was genuine sadness, as seeing the stars with his twin brother still gone often brought him…

The sadness didn't last too long at least because Beel tried his best to see the MC more like a person than a work of art or an oddity. Sure, they looked different - like really different - but they still laughed, cried, and ate like everybody else so they couldn't be that different.

Though then again, most people don't end up floating in midair when they laugh… Eh, oh well. It's not like those little details bother him. 🤷‍♀️

He always remained certain that Belphie would like the MC so he told them a lot about him. Since his twin loved stargazing, it'd only be natural that he'd like someone who looked like the stars, right?

Aside from the occasional tangent about his brother, Beel would also help the MC with their training by letting them help him with his training!

Controlling gravity can be pretty nifty for strength/resistance exercises, so there would be days where Beel would just pull a Dragon Ball and walk around at 1.5 or 2 times Earth's gravity thanks to having the MC on his back!

Sure, lifting a glass of milk becane so difficult that he literally broke a sweat from trying, but he felt like he can juggle motorcycles afterwards so who's complaining? Not him!

Belphegor

……

………….

Was it some kind of joke?

The MC was not human. There was no way in heaven or hell that whatever he lured to the attic was supposed to be a human!!

Really, everything about the MC and their situation seemed directly designed to throw a monkey wrench into his plans...

One: They weren't human so how was he supposed to ruin Diavolo's dream? Two: They were clearly some kind of magical being so they could likely defend themselves…

But third ans most embarrassing of all... he honestly, genuinely, has never seen a more amazing person in his life. Blame it on his soft spot for the stars, but the moment the MC step up to his prison bars, he was smitten...

And. He. HATED IT!

Look, as much as he loved the night sky, he wasn't about to let some random non-human derail his anger! He was stronger than that!

He managed to hold onto his bitterness just long enough to make a halfhearted attempt on their life after they got the door open, but uh…

His brothers found Belphie when he fell through a newly-made hole in the ceiling... Said hole was made when his body slammed to the ground hard enough to crash through the attic floor... 😣

If the damage they caused wasn't enough to change his mind (which it was), then their distress when they thought they might have hurt him certainly did. Even their tears looked like stardust...

After far too long, Belphie got over his denial and began to properly love MC. If he liked stargazing before, he adored it now because he never even has to get out of bed! He can just roll over and follow the "stars" on the MC's body!

Unfortunately, that same love means it also takes a lot to ditch him if they get sick of being his personal night's sky… The brothers have found him floated up and sleeping on the ceiling on numerous occasions so the mortal can get some fresh air (clever MC)...

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #obey me demigods

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wri0thesley · 3 years

Text

A Well Rounded Education (2): Grading Boundaries (Fem!Reader x Nanami Kento, 7.5k)

series synopsis: You are a teacher’s aid to teacher Gojo Satoru, training to be able to take over your own class next year by shadowing and helping him out. Gojo does not make things easy for anybody.

chapter synopsis: the father of one of your students requested a meeting to ask about ways of improving his son’s grades. after working with him for a few weeks, nanami wants to thank you for helping yuji out in his own personal way.

NSFW. AFAB reader, fem pronouns. oral sex (male on female and female on male), massage, nanami is just a gentleman after toji tbh.

(a well rounded education m.list and navigation)

You oversleep the next morning and for the first time since beginning your work as Gojo’s teaching aid, the other man is at his desk before you manage to rush into the classroom. He’s relaxed, arms behind his head, feet up on the desk – and when he sees you, he gives you a cheery wave and a grin.

“Found this on the floor this morning!” He says to you, using his thumb to flip you something small and round that you only manage to catch through sheer dumb luck. You stare down at the thing you’re cradling in your palm; one of the round buttons from your blouse, that you guess you missed after Toji had left and you’d had to try and pull yourself together.

““S-sorry about that,” you babble, your mind working eighty miles a minute to think of a proper excuse. “I-it got caught on my jacket when I was getting ready to leave last night, I wondered where it had gotten to--”

“How’d the meeting with Tsumiki go?”

“Huh?” You ask, blinking down at the button still, trying to fight the heat that is crawling up your face as you shove the accusing object into the pocket of your neatly tailored jacket. “Oh! It wasn’t Tsumiki. It was Mr Fushiguro, actually. M-Megumi’s father?”

There’s a pause in the air, almost as if it’s rippling with tension. When you look up, Gojo is staring at you, his eyes implacable behind dark lenses.

“I see,” he says. “That’s unusual.”

“I gave him all the paperwork, explained the probation and everything,” you hurry to say, almost tripping over your words. You don’t like the way he’s staring at you, and you find yourself shifting from foot to foot, hoping you don’t look like someone who let their student’s father rail you over their boss’ desk. “Megumi’ll be back in school next week, and hopefully nothing like this will happen again--”

“Mm,” Gojo says. You’ve never heard him sound that serious before, ignoring the chance to poke a little fun. His voice usually pitches and modulates, laughing, before he cracks some kind of inane joke that makes you and half the class wince. “I’ve got a meeting tonight, by the way. I was hoping you’d sit in with me.”

“Please don’t palm off more of your dirty work on me,” you say to him, as you go over to your own little makeshift table in the corner of your room and begin to rifle through your bag for the things you’ll need for the day. “To-- Mr Fushiguro was kind of scary, honestly.”

“Oh, it’s nothing like that!” Gojo waves your worries away with a hand, immediately dismissing it. “No, it’s Yuji’s dad – he wants to talk about his grades, I think? I said I don’t think it really matters, and he got really quiet and kind of angry on the phone with me.” Gojo shrugs. Of course Gojo said something like that. You’re not sure Gojo himself has ever worried about something in his life. “Honestly, he’s a. . . businessman type. Very serious! I just want someone to diffuse the tension a bit!” Gojo grins at you. “So you’re my human shield!”

Right.

Far be it for you to think that Gojo might have an educational reason for wanting you to sit in on this meeting. Still . . . you really like Yuji. You know that sometimes his inability to understand things frustrates him – he’s constant energy, and his mind just can’t keep up with the pace of the rest of him. You’d like to help where you can! And you know that Gojo’s probably not going to be able to offer any helpful advice – his classes might work for some kids, and Yuji does really like him, but that’s a boy who would probably benefit from some individualised attention and someone a little quieter.

You don’t like the idea of him with a father who pushes him academically and doesn’t care about his other achievements. Biting your lip, you nod, busying yourself with laying out the pens on your desk and flicking through one of your training books to see if there’s anything about meetings with parents. This one, you think and hope, is definitely not going to end up the same way yesterday’s meeting did.

There’s a kind of nervous energy in Yuji all day. He drops his pen, he shoots you agonised looks until you come over to check his work, and as everyone is milling out to go to lunch, he comes to stand in front of you, kicking his toe on the floor. You smile at him, seeing how he’s vibrating, rocking on the balls of his feet – hoping that the smile might at least calm him down some.

“My Dad’s meeting with Mr Gojo tonight,” Yuji eventually blurts. Without Megumi in class to tamper down some of his more bombastic nature, Yuji’s voice pitches and wavers. “I’m-- Mr Gojo doesn’t care about grades, but my Dad’s like, ‘you should apply yourself more, you have it in you’ and . . . and I guess I’m worried?” He brings a finger to his chin, dwelling on the thought. The way he says it, it’s almost like he’s not usually aware of the idea of ‘worry’ – oh, to be a twelve year old boy!

“I know,” you say, after a proper time has elapsed to make Yuji think you’ve really dwelt on the situation. You reach into your own bag to pull out the carefully prepared lunch you have in there – you could go to the staff-room, but honestly, you’re still feeling a bit wobbly after last night’s events and you don’t want to go around into the hum of people who’ll gather you up into bubbles of small talk. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m sitting in on the meeting too.” You hope your smile is reassuring. “It’s not going to be all doom and gloom, I promise.”

That actually . . . does seem to soothe Yuji.

“My grades are really bad,” he says. “I just . . . I’m not smart, y’know? Megumi knows all this stuff, and I’m just . . . dumb.”

“Being good at school stuff isn’t everything,” you say to Yuji. “You’ve got your own talents. Look at you on the sports field!” He blushes in the way young boys do when they’re being complimented by anybody, a kind of awkward ‘oh, shucks, don’t make me think that I’m good at anything’. You smile. “I’m sure your Dad understands that too.”

“Oh, he does!” Yuji’s eyes widen. You feel a little lock around your chest loosen, just a bit. There’s hero worship clear in Yuji’s eyes now. “He just thinks I should live up to my . . . what’s he call it? Full potential!” He twists his lip, and then leans in, conspiratorially. “He doesn’t like Mr Gojo. He doesn’t think he’s serious.”

Despite yourself, your lips curve into a smile. You aren’t going to trash talk your colleague to a kid that you’re in charge of, but all of the other staff just seem to roll their eyes and let Satoru Gojo get on with whatever he’s doing because apparently he was a prodigy at college or something. It’s nice to know at least someone is on your side, even if you’ll hopefully only ever see him once or twice during your whole year here.

“Don’t worry,” you say to Yuji. “I’ll try and handle it. Now, you should go! All the other boys look like they’re about to play a game of football--”

Yuji’s eyes brighten and he grins, turning away immediately, mind quickly flitting to something more pressing. He shouts a goodbye and a thank you to you even as he’s racing out of the door, almost too fast to be believed.

Kento Nanami (Itadori is his ex-wife’s name, he tells you with a sigh, but the name that Yuji was born with and he’s reluctant to have it changed) is very obviously a businessman, in a well-pressed grey suit and a navy shirt, a yellow tie tight to his throat. He’s wearing suspenders beneath the jacket, an expensive watch on his wrist, and a pair of small glasses perched on a sharp nose. A solemn face, sculpted jaw. He has cheekbones that you think could cut fucking diamonds into pieces, a wave of carefully styled blonde hair over a proud forehead--

What the fuck is going on at this school that it seems like all of the dads are so hot? You do your level best not to look at him too much, as Gojo introduces you and he shakes your hand. He looks at you with his eyes narrowed just a touch; you think he’s trying to get the measure of you, and whether you’re just going to be here to back up Gojo. There’s an air of tiredness to this man that suggests he will not take any of your colleague’s nonsense, and that thought bolsters you when he puts down his briefcase and neatly folds his hands on his lap, looking from you to Gojo.

“I want to talk about Yuji’s grades,” he says, “and how we can help him improve them.”

You like him already. The way he says ‘we’ instead of ‘you’ – the withering gaze that he sets on Gojo, as the white-haired man stretches his arms out above him.

“I told you on the phone,” Gojo says. “They’re just grades--”

“Grades that will follow Yuji throughout his career in this school, and eventually to high school, and eventually to college,” Nanami’s voice is very sure of itself, cutting through Gojo with ease. “I just want to ensure that he has the best chance possible. I want to make sure he’s living up to himself.”

Gojo – fucking Gojo – stifles a yawn behind his hand, and you see that Nanami’s hand flexes on his thigh (wow, his hands are big). You cut across before the two of them can come to blows.

“Yuji’s a bright boy,” you say. “He just needs . . . a little extra help. Someone to sit with him and explain what’s going on, maybe just go over the material again.” You give Nanami a nervous smile. “He’s not the only one in the class, honestly. I-- Mr Gojo’s teaching methods can be--”

“Innovative—” (Gojo says).

“Erratic—” (Nanami says).

“Unusual,” you decide on, in the end, “and not every child is going to thrive.”

“He won’t let me ask them to move into Miss Utahime’s class,” Nanami says, wearily. “Yuji is very fond of Mr Gojo.”

(You know that, and so does Gojo; the white-haired man gives a cocky grin to both of you).

“I enjoy teaching Yuji,” you say. “He’s good-hearted, enthusiastic – he throws himself into everything he does.” Nanami’s tired eyes seem to brighten behind the glasses at the compliment to his son, his lips lifting at the corners in the briefest twitch of a smile.

“He does,” Nanami says, and it’s clear from his tone that he’s very proud of Yuji. You feel bad for thinking he might be the kind of pushy, demanding father that you’d been warned you may encounter in this profession. With Nanami in front of you, it’s clear he just wants the best for Yuji and is concerned that Gojo might not be that ‘best’. You can’t blame him. You often think Gojo behaves more like a child than half of the kids in the class. “Yes, those are all of his best qualities.”

You nervously shift your gaze to Gojo, who is waiting for your next move.

“I’d be happy to work with him,” you say, eventually. “Maybe set up some kind of . . . drop-in, for students having trouble with the work, over free periods? I won’t make them, of course, but . . . I think my methods and Mr Gojo’s are very different, Sir.”

Nanami’s shoulders relax just a touch. He stands, nodding, taking your hand to shake it.

“I don’t doubt it, Miss,” he says – and as he touches you, a frisson of electricity seems to pass between the two of you. His hands are big and surprisingly soft, and as he grasps your hand you can suddenly sense strength behind the grasp. You hope that your surprise doesn’t register in your face, as he turns and inclines his head slightly at Gojo (Gojo does not get a handshake, you do not fail to notice).

“I hope that it helps,” Nanami says, as he leaves. And honestly . . . you do too.

Nanami asks to schedule a meeting with you, two weeks after you’ve begun working with some of the lower-achieving children in the class. Yuji’s grades have been improving, slowly and steadily – the boy looking at you with a grin when tests are handed back with letters far higher up in the alphabet than he’s used to getting.

“Ah, I can leave you to deal with that one,” Gojo says, grinning at you when he hears about it. “You’re the one working miracles, after all! I think Mr Nanami would just be displeased to see me sat with you, and I’m not gonna complain about not having to deal with a guy like that!”

You’re inclined to agree. So you watch Gojo leave that afternoon blithely, like he hasn’t got a care in the world – his bag is full of essays that need to be marked over the weekend, but somehow you think you’ll have a stack pressed into your own hands on Monday morning, more than a little crumpled, as Gojo insists you should get used to doing some marking yourself.

You wait for Nanami with your head in a book, steadfastly ignoring Gojo’s desk and sitting by your own table in the corner of the classroom instead. Last time you were alone with a student’s father in this room, you got to know that desk far too intimately.

Nanami is exactly on time, the second hand of the clock just ticking past the twelve as he knocks on the door and you call for him to come in. Gojo does have an office, and he’s said you can use that if you want – but the few times you’ve been in Gojo’s office, you’ve been overwhelmed by the chaotic mess that the man surrounds himself with. The classroom, if nothing else, at least looks peaceful.

Nanami sits across your table, well-mannered and polite, as you put your book down and smile.

“You wanted to talk about how Yuji’s doing?” You ask him. “It’s only been two weeks, but I think we can already see quite a bit of improvement--”

“Yes,” he says. “I think we can.”

Nanami does not heap you with praise; you get the impression that he’s not the kind of man who heaps anybody with praise. You get the impression he’s the kind of man who gives you an approving look, a pat on the shoulder, a nod – you find that you’re craving that approval yourself, looking at him across from you.

“I look at his homework sometimes,” Nanami says. “He’s getting a lot more of it himself, now. Not pulling his hair out at the dining table. You’re . . . you’re really doing a very good job, you know.”

Your insides fizz at the compliment. Gojo doesn’t give them out, either – but you’re the kind of person who occasionally needs to be told they’re doing the right thing, in order to motivate them to carry on. Nanami’s compliment carries a weight in your heart that lodges there like a secret.

You can’t remember the last time someone said you were doing a good job.

You and Nanami talk through the grading rubric, the other topics that are set to be covered before the end of term – how you’re trying to get Gojo to be a little more academic in his lessons, but it’s not working. You mention that lots of the other kids seem to be thriving under having a chance to go back over the material that your mentor occasionally skips and side-steps around, imparting his knowledge in his own particular way. Thoughts of Gojo make your mind swim with fatigue.

You hadn’t realised, until you started talking about it, but you also can’t remember your mind not being consumed by thoughts of your work at any point in the last few weeks. You’re always worrying about something; your mind always rushing from one possible bad outcome to the next. The kids, your training, Gojo, the school, the heavy weight of choosing a career where the next generation depends on you--

“You look tired,” Nanami says, his face twisted in sympathy. “Have you been getting enough sleep?”

You haven’t, really – thoughts of the class, and your work, and whether you’re even cut out for this as a career have been haunting you more and more recently, as you watch Gojo stumble irresponsibly from day to day. You feel like you get home, do some work for the next day, go to sleep, and immediately go to work again with nothing in between. You look at Nanami, who’s all concern, and you know you shouldn’t, but--

“I’m just getting stressed from everything happening all at once,” you say, forcing yourself to smile. “I have a lot of assessments coming up, reports I should be writing, reports that are written about me. Ah, those ones-- those are by Mr Gojo--”

“Ahh,” he looks incredibly sympathetic at that one.

“There’s just,” you falter. “A lot. And if I don’t come to work feeling my best and supporting them all, I feel like I’m letting the kids down, but I also just feel kind of bone-weary aching all of the time—”

Nanami’s hand reaches across the table, taking ahold of yours. His palms are warm and rough, and the thumb that rubs soothing circles against the base of your own is comforting. You sigh, eyelids half flickering closed.

“I shouldn’t have said anything to you,” you murmur, the small moment of intimacy (when you’ve spent the last two weeks feeling like you’re lurching from place to place and nobody is paying attention) sending a much-needed hit of comfort to the marrow of your bones. “You shouldn’t have to listen to my problems.”

Nanami’s lips tilt.

“I’d say it’s the least I could do,” he says, drily, “after everything you’ve done for Yuji – and after you’ve had to deal with Mr Gojo.” The look he gives you is quietly private, a shared in-joke between the two of you that makes you smile in response. His response almost makes you forget that he’s touching you, and though the touch is innocuous, you also know it’s unprofessional--

You stare at his hand on yours. It’s the same arm that he wears his expensive wristwatch on, and the sleeve of his suit jacket has ridden up to reveal just a hint of the shape beneath, a prominently veined wrist. Your throat goes dry looking at it, as you think of how strong he had seemed that time he’d shook your hand--

He’s looking at where the two of you are touching, too – a faint spot of red fading in high on his cheekbones. He coughs, awkward, but doesn’t move his hand. He swallows.

“You’re very pretty, you know,” Nanami says, and your body seems to flood with heat. You should say something about how inappropriate that is, thank him for coming to see you and the sweet words he’d said about how you were helping Yuji along, but somehow you can’t bring yourself to do it when he’s looking at you like that. “It sounds very hypocritical coming from me, because anyone who knows me will tell you that I don’t get enough of it myself– but you should rest more. Relax.”

You can imagine him ramrod straight behind a desk, eyes narrowed behind spreadsheets and numbers. You can definitely imagine him tired and drooping, working too hard. You smile again, helplessly, the look apologetic. You’re not very good at things like that.

“You look stiff,” he says. “Here--”

He stands. You’d forgotten how tall he was, the breadth of him – he unbuttons his jacket neatly, laying it over the back of the chair. Without that, the width of his shoulders is really apparent. You don’t realise you’re staring until he makes a little noise, a ‘hmph’ of amusement, eyes not meeting yours, thumbs unbuttoning his cuffs and pushing the sleeves up to his elbows.

He’s behind you.

“I’ve been told I’m good at this,” he says. “Big hands, I suppose?”

You’re about to ask him what he’s doing when those same big hands are suddenly on your shoulders, the same thumbs that were just rubbing tender circles onto your hand digging into your shoulder-blades in a massage that you feel down to your toes. You don’t realise you’ve let out a noise and relaxed back into the massage until Nanami lets out a low hum that you think is mirth.

The noise you make as he works out that persistent knot in the back of your neck is near-on pornographic, and both of you know it – heat rushing to your face, Nanami clearing his throat. If somebody walking by had heard that – if they came into the classroom, to see you getting a massage from Yuji’s father--

How do you keep getting into these situations? Nobody warned you about this part of working in a school. Why do his hands feel so fucking good on you, fingers digging into your skin – you moan again, rolling back into his touch.

There’s a clipped quality to his voice when he speaks;

“Wait a second.” Your eyes flutter open as his hands leave you, watching in distress as he walks to the door. If you’re expecting him to leave, you’re surprised when what actually happens is that he twists the lock, so nobody can walk in on the two of you doing something so. . . incongruous with both the classroom around you and the knowledge of what exactly the relationship between you is.

He gives you another one of those half-smiles and you feel a familiar throb in your lower half. Oh, this is unfair – he’s so handsome, so unruffled, so gentle as he takes back his position behind you and touches you again.

“This would feel better on your bare skin,” he murmurs, the words ghosting along you as a politely worded request, and obediently your fingers deftly unbutton your blouse without hesitation. This time, you’re glad that there’s no clatter of lost buttons on the floor – this time, you’re able to push it off your shoulders yourself. Nanami sighs as you let the fabric drop, pooling behind you in a crumpled mess. One of his fingertips traces your spine, raising gooseflesh on the sensitive skin.

“Don’t you have someone at home to do this for you?” He asks, voice soft and low like velvet, as he kneads the skin, tension draining out of you more and more with each passing minute. The question is worded carefully, but both of you know what he’s asking.

“Just me,” you say, as his hands slide forward, thumbs digging into your shoulders but fingers resting over your collarbone, his hands so big on you.

“Pity,” Nanami breathes, but it doesn’t sound like he’s particularly unhappy about it. Your breath catches as he moves from your shoulders, further, further, fingertips brushing the swell of your breast in your (sensible, today) bra. He leans forward, his lips against the shell of your ear. “You can tell me to stop if you want me to.”

“I don’t want you to,” you find yourself saying, and his thin lips curve into a smile that you feel.

“I’m glad,” he murmurs – and then, fingers diving beneath the cups of the bra, kneading the soft flesh, the plush of your body. You’re relaxing bonelessly into his touch when one finger brushes your nipple, sending a frisson of electricity right to the place between your thighs. Your bra straps are slipped off your shoulders, a slight lean forward so he can unclip the thing and let it fall onto the ground. Nanami sighs, almost reverent – when he moves his hand from your chest, you feel their absence keenly, a soft noise of dismay escaping you.

“Pull your chair out,” he says. You do; the legs scraping across the floor. Nanami himself moves so he’s no longer behind you, coming around to the front – casually, unhurriedly lowering himself to his knees in front of you. He reaches up to his face and removes his glasses, laying them neatly on the table to one side of him.

His eyes drink you in and you find your skin prickling with heat. You should be embarrassed; you shouldn’t be here at all, actually, alone in your classroom (again!) with someone’s father (again!), willing to let them look at you and touch you and more (again!). But Nanami reaches in, touching you so gently, fingertips and thumbs delicate as feathers as he strokes over your breast and waist and stomach. As he leans forward and licks a slow, agonising lap over your nipple until it hardens and pebbles, your entire body thrumming with desire. As he sucks it into his mouth, teeth nipping just hard enough at the bud that your body lights on fire, before he kisses a line across your sternum to give the other nipple the same treatment.

He slides his hands past your waist, unbuttoning and unzipping your pencil skirt with one hand, the cotton pulled down over your thighs. Nanami sighs again, cupping your hips, nudging your stockinged knee with his cheek.

“You’re lovely,” he says, affectionate, and it feels so intimate that your heart beats too fast against your chest. “Can I--?” Hands against the sides of your underwear, sliding over you in a way that leaves hot trails of fire behind him. You should be embarrassed that he can clearly see the wet patch, the way the sodden fabric clings to the petals of your sex – but when he’s looking at you like that. . . You can’t make yourself feel it. You nod, sighing, lifting your hips from the seat of the chair to assist in the removal of that particular garment. A light touch on your inner thighs has you spreading your legs further for him, his eyes drinking in the slick folds, the needy glint of your wetness.

He brings his face closer, taking a long breath in, inhaling your scent. The wash of his breath across you on the exhale fans across the length of you, your clit aching with need to be touched, paid attention to. Nanami takes his time, though – your thighs are kissed, first, his lips lingering on the soft skin, suckling gentle love-bites into the flesh. Occasionally, the briefest flash of his teeth, scraping across the sensitive area – always followed by a soothe, a kiss, a lick. Every one of them makes your body bloom into warm needy desire; you can feel how wet you are, know it must be soaking the chair beneath you even before Nanami has used his mouth on you properly.

He huffs out a chuckle as you whine, your hips tilting towards his mouth.

“You want me to use my mouth?” He asks you, his tongue gently lapping at one of the places he’s kissed. “On you, sweetheart?”

“Mm—mmhmm,” you say, breathlessly, not entirely sure that your mind is able to form any coherent sentences with Nanami knelt between your thighs. He places a chaste kiss on the mound above your clit, pulling back.

“Use your words,” he encourages you. There’s a stern dominance to him; coated in fondness, yes, but . . . an order, nonetheless. “I can make you feel so good--”

“Please use your mouth on me,” you whimper, soft as a mouse. Your hand flexes onto the seat of the chair beneath your thighs, and Nanami smiles against your soaking cunt.

“Good girl,” he praises, like liquid honey – and when his tongue finally, finally makes contact with your sex, the other hand has no choice but to curl into his hair as you let out a needy mewl, all of the heat that’s been building up within you since the very first moment you laid eyes on Kento Nanami coming to a point in the crux of his lips and tongue lapping hungrily at your slick.

Your lashes flutter closed, your thighs trembling, as Nanami sates himself on the taste of you, making you relax helplessly into his talented mouth. He knows exactly what he’s doing; the flat, broad strokes against the folds of your cunt, the lower dip of his tongue as he flirts with stretching your hole open with it, the teasing flick of it as it dances, dallies with the idea of your swollen clit.

You can hear the wet sounds of him between your legs, suckling and kissing and licking and lapping – not all of it’s from your slickness, you know, but an embarrassing amount of it is. His tongue pushes into your hole, thrusting a few times, imitating the actions of fingers or cock – and your thighs flex, almost squeezing him between them, your fingers tugging on his hair with a soft squeal of surprise escaping you.

The noise just spurs him on. He fucks you on his tongue for a few more thrusts, before dragging the flat of the muscle through your folds, forcefully parting them (his mouth feels so hot, there), until he can reach the throb of your clit. He uses his tongue to roll the bud, swirling the tip of the muscle around it, drawing patterns over the place that all of your hot, desperate need is concentrated. Your other hand jerks into his hair too, your hips thrusting against his hungry mouth as he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks. You almost white out for a minute over the sheer overwhelming sensation of Nanami’s lips sucking on you, the displacement of air – you’re panting out breathy, whimpering noises, Nanami groaning as he edges you further and further towards your peak.

Fingers on your inner thigh. Nanami’s index finger, liberally coating itself in your slick and Nanami’s spit, dragging down the length of you that isn’t currently being utterly ravaged by Nanami’s lips--

He pushes one lone finger into your entrance, and that pushes you over the edge.

Your walls flutter around him, sucking him deeper inside your plush walls. You bite so hard into your lower lip you think that you might bleed, but it only serves to quiet the moan that escapes you by a little. Nanami groans against you, pumping the finger, sucking on your clit, guiding you over the peaks and mounds of your orgasm as he continues to enjoy the taste of you gushing into his mouth, overwhelming with the syrupy sweet stickiness of just how good you taste.

He guides you, too – with careful, slowing licks, lazier pumps – through the weak aftershocks and trembles of your peak, as they come to a slowly twitching halt. Your eyes are glassy, lips swollen from bits, as he places another chaste kiss over your sensitive clit and pulls back. His finger pops out of you with a wet gush that makes you feel so embarrassed at your own neediness you can barely stand it, but between your thighs Nanami is straightening up, a smug glint to his tired eyes.

“There,” he murmurs, standing, drinking in your quivering body, the slick on your thighs, how dark and satisfied your eyes look as you gaze up at him, half-woozy from the pleasure. “Don’t you feel a little more relaxed, now?”

You’re afraid if you speak you will simply slur your words, your tongue feeling unfamiliar in your mouth. You try and focus on Nanami instead – unfairly tranquil, aside from the wet of his chin, the damp spot darkening his collar. He places the finger that was formerly buried inside you into his mouth, the glint of arousal on it consumed by him with a tilt of the head as if he’s savouring the taste.

You can’t help but notice that there’s an outline of something putting pressure on the fabric of his slacks, there, between his thighs – something that looks hard, and stiff, and uncomfortable. You blink at it through a hazy mind as Nanami goes leans over you, gently taking hold of your chin, checking that you’re alright.

“C-can I help with that?” You manage, only a little bit garbled. Nanami’s eyebrows raise in surprise, a light pink flush to his cheeks – what does he take you for? That you’d let him eat you out so well that your toes curl and then just let him leave without seeing to his own issues?

(It’s a confidence boost, honestly – knowing that he’s hard because of you. You know that this isn’t the kind of man who would fuck you on his tongue in his son’s classroom if he didn’t find you attractive, but still . . . Someone like Nanami, with those cheekbones and those lips and those shoulders, wanting somebody like you?)

“I-- ahh--” He seems nervous about it, a little flustered, clearly not expecting you to offer something like that – but then, you raise one hazy hand and gently pet his crotch through the fabric and he whistles through his teeth, the organ giving a welcoming throb beneath your hand. You swallow at how it responds, the size and heat of it.

“Please?” Plump lower lip caught between your teeth. “I’d like to repay the favour.”

He swallows, raising a hand to loosen his tie. You see the bob of his throat as he moves, pulling out the chair he was sat on before, parting his own knees.

“I’d like that,” he says, and that’s all of the encouragement you need to sink from the chair onto your shaking knees, half-crawl towards him until you’re situated between his thighs. Your hands reach up to his waist, undoing his belt buckle carefully. The heat of his cock radiates through the fabric, brushing against your arm as you undo the belt. As you undo the button. As you tug at the zipper, the noise of the teeth indecently loud. He sighs himself, a hand cupping your cheek. “You’re so pretty,” he says, repeating his earlier compliment. His eyes on your face make you feel hot and flushed, the way he watches you eagle-sharp as your smaller hands reach into his underwear to pull out his already hard cock.

He’s not as big as Toji was, but that doesn’t mean he’s not big. His cock is elegant, a light upward curve, the head ruddy pink and slick with precome – and as you lean forward and let your tongue trace the slit of it, as you taste that same precome in your mouth, he groans quietly. He brings the hand not on your cheek up to his mouth to muffle the noise, and you can’t help but pout.

“Please,” you say. “I want to hear you--”

A pause. He drops his hand, taking a chest-deep breath. His fingers slide across the apple of your cheeks – you know he must be able to sense how warm you are, how shameless and brazen you feel.

You give the head of his cock dainty kitten licks, getting used to feel of him – getting used to the soft breaths he keeps making, the way that the hand on your cheek moves to knit into your hair. You know you’re teasing him, but the way he looks down at you like you’re the one doing him a favour has you all giddy and light headed.

You envelope the head in your waiting mouth, tongue messily lapping at it. It’s been a long time since you’ve done something like this – judging from the sigh escaping Nanami’s lips, the light thrust of his hips, though, you’re not doing too bad of a job on it.

You take him a little further, willing your mouth to open wider. Your tongue is still moving against him sloppily – tracing the veins of his shaft, licking fat stripes where you can manage to get it around. You feel a trickle of drool escape your lips as you widen your mouth a bit more, so much you can feel a light ache in your jaw.

“Fuck,” Nanami breathes, deep and ragged. “Fuck, that’s a good girl.”

The praise just eggs you on further, makes you want to take him deeper – makes you want to win more noises said by that dark, low voice. You push too far and have to pull back a little, your makeup smearing (you’re glad you’d foregone a darker lipstick today), your eyes watering. But you’re determined, and after you’ve managed to draw a choked breath around the cock in your mouth, you’re back on it, kissing and sucking and licking as best you can. Every so often, Nanami will groan from above you, his hips jerking, the hand in your hair guiding you just a little to the left. The other hand comes to cradle your face, so tender and careful with you.

“You feel so good,” he says, soft, like he can barely believe where you are. “Your mouth is so good, sweetheart--”

The flat of your tongue is dragged over the slit, his taste flooding your senses. You squeeze your thighs together, the friction thrilling even considering how slick your cunt still is (you’re grateful that your skirt is dark, because you know you must have soaked through your underwear).

His hips are moving more regularly now, but you can tell that he’s still holding back – that he doesn’t want to roughly fuck your throat, though he easily could. You look up at him with your eyes dark and wide, your lashes trembling, trying to get across that it’s alright for him to do that without having to stop hungrily licking and sucking at his cock. He sees your gaze, your lips wrapped around him, your cheeks hollowed in your attempts to impress, and he breathes out a shaking exhale.

“Is it really okay?” He asks you. “I don’t want to hurt you--”

You hum your affirmative around his cock and his eyes roll back into his head for just a moment, groan escaping his parted lips again, as he begins to rock his hips into your mouth. You gag around it at first – so big, so thick, even though he’s not going that fast yet – but as he begins to pick up his pace, your mouth gets used to moving in tandem with his thrusts and the tugs on your hair.

The ache in your jaw begins to be pleasant; you begin to feel like you’re meant to have it open that wide, that the bump of his cockhead against the back of your throat is right and perfect. His face is flushing, his breath getting shaky – whistling in his chest.

His chest. You stare at the bare collar above the buttons of his shirt, the lean shadows of his collarbone – you think, judging by the broadness of his shoulders, he’s probably built beneath there. You’d love to find out. You’d love to be somewhere other than in the classroom with this man, somewhere where you could learn his body by heart, where the floor beneath your knees isn’t quite so hard--

“Fuck,” he hisses, fingers tightening so hard that you groan, your throat vibrating around his cock. “Sweetheart, my good girl, I’m gonna--”

You hear the warning in his voice and you suck harder, swirl your tongue faster, coaxing him forward – his abdomen flexes under the shirt, his cock juddering in your mouth, pulsing as your mouth suddenly fills with the hot, wet, salty and unmistakable taste of Nanami’s come--

You keep sucking. You keep licking, swallowing pump after pump, draining forth every single drop of his release that you can until he’s shuddering and his cock is softening, his head thrown over the back of the chair to reveal the tempting column of his throat.

He’s taking deep breaths, great heaving ones that his shoulders move in time with, as the last few thunderbolts of his release travel through his body and he groans in the pleasured way that someone who has orgasmed their worries away does.

Nanami’s hand in your hair eases, his breaths evening out from the shakes and groans. His fingers are quiet and affectionate, as you pull back, swallowing the final few drops of his release. He looks down at you with those intense eyes half-lidded, his face briefly free of lines and stress and worry. He sighs, hand diving into the jacket still hung on the chair behind him – when the hand emerges, he’s holding a handkerchief, that he brings up to your face like a lover.

Tenderly, he wipes a bead of his come from the corner of your mouth. The action is so warm, so fond, that you can barely breathe for looking up at him. You feel like you’re knelt at some kind of altar – that Nanami had prayed to you, and now you are responding with your own supplication.

“Are you alright?” He asks you. “Your knees? Your mouth?” He’s so gorgeous; unfairly picked out under the classroom lights, like he doesn’t belong here at all. In another world, he’s avenging like an angel with a weapon in his hand. Now, he’s softly rumpled with his shirt unbuttoned and one of his suspenders fallen down his shoulder, his knees spread wide.

“Yes,” you breathe. He smiles again – he does not grin. His mouth is just a light uptilt, as he leans forward and brushes his lips over your own.

“Good girl,” he murmurs again, the words sending another shiver down your spine. “Do you need some help getting dressed?”

You rise onto unsteady legs and Nanami is there, supporting you carefully, rising with you. He rescues your skirt, your bra – deft fingers re-doing buttons, catching eyes with hooks, zipping up until you look – if not immaculate – at least presentable. Someone who had seen you this morning would probably recognise that your skirt is creased and your blouse is crumpled, that your hair is falling around your face--

Nanami’s fingers capture those strands too, tucking them back behind your ear, smoothing them out. Every single sweep and caress of his fingers makes you feel like you’re about to break into pieces from how soft you feel, how cherished. It’s a stark difference to how you had felt after Toji had swung out of your classroom, leaving you prone and leaking his come.

He leaves you, after you’ve regained your balance, to get your bag and coat, to grab the book you had been reading before this meeting had commenced – and he sets himself to rights with a calm, assured aura. If someone looked closely at him, you think perhaps they’d notice the tie not quite as tight, the hair not quite as neatly swept from his brow – you yourself can barely take your eyes off him. Is there something in the water in this town?

He grasps his briefcase, clips his glasses into the top pocket of his suit jacket instead of placing them back on his nose. His entire being seems to have lost tension, his eyes not quite as tired, his shoulders not quite as strained. As he finished, he comes to stand beside you – an arm gallantly curving around your waist just loosely enough that the touch could be read as friendly and not romantic. As the two of you walk across the classroom, he says quietly;

“You really should relax, you know. You don’t have anything to worry about. Yuji adores you, and I’m sure the rest of the children do too.”

(Your cheeks heat, the compliment warm and convincing in the sonorous bass of Nanami’s voice).

“Even Gojo isn’t permanent,” he says. “Anybody would be lucky to end up with you.” A cough. “That’s . . . as a teacher and in other ways.”

He pauses at the door, unlocking it with a final click that feels like he is saying that this little adventure has truly come to its natural end. His eyes linger affectionately on your face, a brief touch of hesitation colouring his features – before, once more, he leans in and brushes his lips against yours with a feather-soft touch that has you gasping in surprise against his mouth. The hand not on the briefcase takes your own hand, fingers entangling, and if you had thought your face was warm before, you’re quickly taught that you didn’t know what heat was.

He draws back a little breathlessly.

“I hope you’ll continue working with Yuji,” he says, sincerely. “And perhaps, if it’s agreeable to you-- perhaps we could schedule a catch-up meeting in a few weeks? So I may see. . . how things are progressing?”

“Of course, Sir,” you say, words very breathy.

When you get home tonight, and probably for the next few weeks, you’ll take a really good look at the grading rubric. You know. For the kids. Not because of Nanami’s sharp cheekbones and wicked tongue and the glint that had been in his eye when he had pressed his mouth against your heated core – not because of how his cock had felt heavy and thick in your mouth, and how it would feel pressed inside of you--

Nope. Not at all.

Definitely for Nanami’s son.

#jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #nanami x reader #kento nanami x reader #nanami smut #nanami x you #jjk x reader #afab reader #fem pronouns #writing #jjk teacher aid au #jjk writing tag

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darling-i-read-it · 3 years

Text

Lipstick

Karl Heisenberg x reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: borderline nsfw like I thought real hard about it, weapons, talks of murder, slight spoilers for resident evil 8

Author’s Note: just impulsively wrote this and am posting it promptly after writing so it has not been edited. Besties im down bad about this sarcastic basterd (also if anyone wants a nsfw part 2...i am willing to provide) (or any other requests for him and Alcina, my favorite bi panic people rn)

Summary: You run into Ethan in Castle Dimitrescu on your way back to the factory.

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director

(not my gif)

Ethan Winters genuinely just wanted his daughter back. He was so sick and tired of going through this village in an attempt to save her, running into every possible inconvenience he could find and knowing that he would probably lose fingers fighting them.

Castle Dimitrescu was vast and regal. He might have liked it if he wasn’t running for his and his daughters' lives from the four vampires that lived there.

He was crouched down, holding a gun up as he walked very quietly and carefully throughout the house so as to not alert any of the Dimitrescu daughters. He opened one of the unlocked doors carefully and immediately stopped moving at the sight of someone.

You wore no cloak, to signify that you were a daughter and you were much shorter than the lady of the house. You grabbed one of the lipsticks that Alicna had plenty of and leaned over the vanity to see how it looked on you.

Ethan stood up and held the gun up to your head. You raised an eyebrow, looking at him from the mirror reflection.

“Who are you?” he asked, voice rough. Rougher than his face looked. You put on the lipstick and then rubbed your lips together.

“Do you think this is my color?” He shoved the gun further into your head and you scoffed. “Fine fine. Not one for makeup eh?” You put your hands up and turned around. He let you sit down on the vanity but not without his gun still pointing at your skull. You seemed unphased which would have been weird if Ethan wasn’t incredibly desensitized to everything ever.

“Who are you? Are you one of the vampires? One of the other family members? Who are you?!” You put your hands slowly down on your lap. He let you, but you were testing his patience.

“Not quite.” You gestured to him. “I’m human. Like you. Well not like you, I’m completely human, no mutations or anything done.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he hissed. You waved him off.

“If you hurt me, you will have Karl on your head and I imagine it won’t be pretty. It’s the only way I can get from Castle to Castle unharmed,” you told him.

“Karl?”

“You know, fun hat, frizzy hair, has that big hammer thing. Karl.”

“Heisenberg?” You nodded.

“Yes Ethan, I thought you were smarter than this.” Ethan shook his head quickly and then regained focus, his hand holding the gun shaking a bit.

“Where’s Rose?” You shrugged.

“Fuck if I know Ethan Winters. I’m just the person who lives in a factory and becomes a nuisance for each and every Lord.” He jabbed the gun at your head and you didn’t even flinch.

“You’re lying.”

“Truthfully, I am not. If I knew where Rose was I would at least give you a hint, just to make it interesting.”

“What is Heisenberg to you?” he asked. You smiled a bit, crossing your legs.

“I’m Heisenberg's...girlfriend for lack of a better word. Whatever Mia was to you.” His mind flashed back to Mia. He had barely been able to mourn her. He shook the thought out of his head.

“You know how to get out of here and get Rose yes?”

“I know how to get out of here. How to get Rose, I have no idea. We’ve been over this.”

“But Heisenberg knows and if I can bring you to him, he can tell me.” You shook your head gently.

“Ethan sweetie...I could call for Alcina or the girls at any time and they would be in here in seconds to tear you to pieces.”

“Not before I could pull this trigger.”

“Again, if you so much as scratch me, you’ll never breath non metal infused air again.” Ethan shook his head gently and took a deep breath. He grabbed the gun at you again. He was silent and then he lowered it.

“I’ll just be going then,” he muttered, defeated. You nodded pleasantly and stood up from sitting on the vanity. You put the lipstick back on it. You walked forward and put your hand on Ethan’s shoulder. He looked you in the eyes.

“Good luck Ethan Winters.” You started to leave but turned to him. “I do suggest that in order to save your daughter you don’t kill Alicna’s in the process.”

“Any bits of advice then?” You put your hand on the doorknob and turned it, opening it just a tad.

“Grab the masks for the main room. Do you have a map?” He handed it to you, a tattered old piece of paper. You grabbed the lipstick again and marked some places. “Avoid hurting them as much as you can.”

“Why are you helping me?”

“I don’t like Mother Miranda. I don’t trust Mother Miranda. She is the one who has your daughter I’m sure or she must know where she is. But the Dimitrescus and Karl...even Donna for that matter, are people I like and trust.”

You stepped back outside the room.

“If I hear you’ve killed any of the daughters, I’ll tell them what I know of you. If you think the Dimitrescus are scary, just wait until you meet Donna.”

You shut the door in his face. Ethan shivered.

====

You walked up the stairs to the second floor. You knocked on the door of Alcinas room and she swang it open. She took a sigh of relief.

“Thank God. I thought you were Ethan Winters.”

“You think Ethan would knock before coming in?” She scoffed. You held her the lipstick you were wearing.

“Where did you find that?”

“Downstairs where I ran into Ethan,” you said honestly. Her eyes went wide and her lips pursed in annoyance.

“Did you see the girls?”

“No but I’m sure one of them ran into him as he left the room. He was only there a couple of minutes ago, it shouldn't be that hard to find him.” She walked past you without saying goodbye. You huffed. “You’re welcome!”

=====

You made it back to the factory in just a couple of minutes. You had gotten so used to the walk that you were on autopilot the whole time before you were back to your room. Karl was already there, clearly taking a quick break before returning to his never ending work day.

“Where did you go?!” he asked, walking up to you from the bathroom. He put his hand on your arm and you grabbed his glasses which were hanging from his shirt. He had shed the jacket and hat, clearly about to shower.

“Relax, I was just at Alcinas castle,” you told him gently. He let out an annoyed exaggerated sigh that you knew all too well.

“How is my sister?” he asked. You took the lipstick out of your pocket. Alcina hadn’t actually taken it in her fit of rage to go and get Ethan. Now you had something extra for your own personal vanity back at the factory.

“Shy of one more lipstick.” You walked past him into the bathroom. He followed you as you placed it carefully on your vanity. You admired it for a second with a smile on your face. You wrapped an arm around yourself and turned back to him. You hoisted yourself onto the bathroom counter. “I ran into Ethan Winters.”

His face, which had been admiring your new addition to the vanity which was full of stolen things and things he had acquired for you, turned sour. Karl put his hand on your arm and raised it, checking your side and arm for injuries.

“I told you not to leave the room until he was caught,” he grumbled. He was trying to act like he hadn’t been worried about you from the second he realized you were gone. He was trying to ignore the fact that he himself almost stomped to each of the Lord’s castles to make sure you were alright. He didn’t want you to run into Ethan Winters, that was his worst nightmare. Ethan didn’t have any regard for you. Ethan just wanted Rose. “Are you hurt?” You shook your head.

“No. He asked me if I knew where Rose was and held a gun to my head but in the end we parted ways peacefully.”

“You could have brought him back here,” he muttered.

“I told Alcina where he was. I figured she could take care of him. You already had your shot.” He rolled his eyes and his grip on your arm tightened.

“You could have been seriously hurt. The Lord’s won’t hurt you but Mother Miranda might, Ethan might have.” You brought your free hand up to his cheek and leaned forward so your lips were just barely brushing over his.

“I can take care of myself.” He pressed a harsh kiss against your lips and made a low groaning noise. He let go of your arm to grab your leg and part them so that he could stand between your thighs. He dipped his head to kiss you and you pressed your body against him, feeling every inch of his breathing.

There was a harsh rasp at the door and he pulled away. You grabbed his neck and shook his head, kissing his jaw and peppering kisses down his neck.

“Come on, Mother Miranda doesn’t need you that bad,” you whispered. You pressed a long kiss to his jaw again and he had to physically tear himself away, however much it pained him.

“She might,” he grumbled. You held him until he moved too far away for you to. You groaned and put your head against the wall beside the mirror.

“Maybe I should go and find Ethan Winters again to finish the job. I mean he may only have eight fingers but he’s stayed alive this long and-” He grabbed your arm that was waving around as you spoke and looked you dead in the eyes.

“I will finish the job. You just sit tight kitten.” You kissed his knuckles and then let him go.

“Better be quick Karl. I get very restless very easily.”

He put on his hat and coat (the opposite of either of you wanted in the moment) and slammed the door in frustration against Mother Miranda behind him.

You took a deep breath and hoped he wouldn’t be gone too long.

NSFW Part 2

#karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg imagines #heisenberg imagines #resident evil 8 imagines

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jkstompers · 3 years

Text

a royal engagement | jjk

pairing: jeon jungkook x female reader

summary: the rough ground against his clothed knee doesn’t matter anymore when he sees the sweetest smile on your face. everything is perfect.

genre: arranged marriage but they wanna do it right!, best friends to lovers, royalty!au, FLUFF, crown princess!oc, prince!jk, surprises!, jk believes in soulmates confirmed, oc is so in love, perhaps jk flexes how rich he is in this ~(˘▾˘~)

warnings: mentions of sex, sexual tension, more talk of exes (both jk and oc’s), they both talk about losing their virginity, mild jealousy, mentions of menstrual cycles, a little bit of lip locking action

word count: 11.1k

author’s note: ♡ happy jungkook day! ♡ this chapter spans over a week and a half-ish! also i made a little oopsies in the last chapter when i said that oc had only been back in raemor for a week… it’s actually been a month since she’s left the city. i’m sorry about that! i changed it on an arrangement already, but i just figured it out when i was editing this chapter. other than that, i’m so excited for this series and i hope u all enjoy!! pls lmk what u think! ღ'ᴗ'ღ

banner pic creds here! <3

jungkook had the utmost faith in you.

there was something in him that always knew that the love the two of you had ran way deeper than a friendship— probably more than a relationship too. it was something like a soul tie. something the stars created before the earth was ever created. two beings that were always meant to be together, in every universe, in every time before and after this. jungkook held his hope in that. his trust that the love the two of you forged was strong enough to pull you out of your room and into his arms before the plane took off.

the war between your head and your heart ended in a stalemate. you were fighting against something that you knew in your heart you wanted. your brain couldn’t make any more excuses to go against it when jungkook laid his heart out on the floor for you. you’d already made your decision before you went to sleep— before you even left jungkook’s grasp. but you were one for the dramatics.

the sound of the plane landing woke you, you were afraid you were too late. thinking that you slept in during a moment that could decide the rest of your life, you ran. bare feet smacking against the cold floor of the castle, before you eventually made it out to the garden and then the royal runway.

the sound of your voice that morning set it in stone. that jungkook will never love another the way he does you.

“jungkook!” you called out.

he was just about to board the plane for fenutar, jungkook and his advisors huddled into a circle to talk about customs and special etiquette since it’s been a while since he’s last visited. your shout interrupted the conversation. jungkook turned around immediately at the familiar voice.

the sight of you running through the cold, wet grass in your sleep wear with a winter coat and no shoes on. it makes his heart swell, with both love and worry. more so worry. “princess? what are you doing out here?! it’s freezing and you’re not even wearing the right clothes—”

you cut him off as you crash into his body for a tight hug. it felt right, it always did. “am i too late?” you ask, face snuggled into his warm chest.

he shakes his head, a little laugh accompanying the words. “you’re just in time.”

now, jungkook and you lay in your bed, staring up at the ceiling together. since seven in the morning, the two of you have just been talking about everything and nothing. mostly just appreciating each others presence. time passed quickly and it was almost time for everyone to start getting ready for breakfast. “so... how should we tell everyone? over breakfast?” you asked, pulling yourself on his chest and resting your cheek against his ribs.

he smiles at you. “sure, i heard they’re serving waffles, donuts— you know, sweet stuff.”

“and wouldn’t our news be so sweet?” you grinned. he laughs and you can feel his chest rise and fall under your head, the sound of his laughter just up against your ear. “should we go now?”

you move to get up, but jungkook stops you, placing a hand on your waist. “let’s stay here for a little bit longer.” he suggests, moving his hand up to run through your hair. “aren’t you tired from your dramatic show of affection this morning?” laughing as his fingers card through the strands of your hair. he combats your glare with a tender massage to your scalp. remembering how you’d always fall asleep whenever he did, and it worked. your eyelids fell and you melt against jungkook as he continues to rub your scalp gently.

love wasn’t scary. times like this, when it’s just you and jungkook; no expectations, no titles, no responsibilities. it’s just love. it wasn’t terrifying, it’s not painful. well, maybe it is sometimes. like how your heart beats out of your chest whenever jungkook looks at you, eyes glistening with admiration. like when you smile at jungkook and he feels like he could burst at any second just from the sight of you. love is hard to explain. love is whatever you make it out to be. and right now, love is in the curve of jungkook’s lips when he smiles at you. love is in the palm of your hand when you reach out to hold him.

the sound of the knocks on the door doesn’t register until the second round of taps. “princess, it is time for breakfast.” you hear from behind the door.

you sit up. “i’ll be right out!” trying to get out of bed but jungkook pulls you back.

“uh-uh,” he tsks. “you’re not dressed.” you furrow your eyebrows before you look down at what you’re wearing. a slip dress, the one you wore to sleep to be specific. “i won’t look, don’t worry.” he laughs, scooting himself up on your bed and covering his face with one of your pillows. he ignores how nice it smells, just like that shampoo he really likes. you bought it back in the city, raemor doesn’t have shampoos that smell like this.

he hears you rustle around in your closet before he hears a faint zip. “wait— jungkook, how does this look?”

the pillow is pulled away from his face and his eyes lay on you. with a colorful sundress draped on your body. it flows and compliments your skin beautifully. you’re beautiful. god, you’re gorgeous. asking jungkook for his opinion wouldn’t help, he’s biased. you’re pretty in his eyes no matter what you wear. “that— yeah, it’s— you look great.” he stumbles over his words.

“cat’s got your tongue?” you tease. in retaliation, jungkook ruffles up your hair a bit, making you groan and spend another five minutes in front of the mirror to fix it. meanwhile, jungkook pulls himself off the bed and straightens his outfit out, opting to leave his jacket off since it was toasty in the castle. he still looks proper and handsome with his white button up and dress pants on. for the last touch, you dig through your jewelry box, knowing that it has to be somewhere in there.

then there it was, at the bottom, tangled with a necklace from your mother, was the friendship bracelet jungkook gave you when you were twelve at the lantern festival. a dainty gold chain with a flower embellishment on it, signifying the promise the two of you made. he watches from afar when you put it on, trying to hide his surprise. “you still have it?”

you nod, “you don’t?”

“i do.” he assures. “i just didn’t think you’d remember it after all this time.”

you scoff playfully, walking towards him. “of course i remember,” linking your arm with his. “i remember everything.”

with that, the two of you step out of your room and down to the dining hall. they were expecting you, but not jungkook. the shock on everyone’s faces was evident. your parents, clementine, your ladies, venus, even blue. it was a good surprise though. both of your parents had to hide their big smiles behind their napkins. the staff kindly added another chair next to you for jungkook to sit down in. no one spoke up about it, if they wanted to ask, they kept their mouths shut. the two of you enjoy a delicious breakfast without any interference from any of the advisors.

but someone had to say it, and you were happy that it was going to be you.

you let out a cough before standing up, holding a glass of water and clinking your knife against it gently to grab everyone's attention. it only took a few seconds for all eyes to land on you. “jungkook and i have come to the conclusion that we will marry.” you announce.

the hall is overjoyed. cheers coming from your parents, smiles being sent your way from blue and your ladies. even the advisors, the most stern and inexpressive people you know (except for venus) crack a little smile at the news. “but—” you begin. silence quickly takes over the room. “only on jungkook and i’s terms.”

there is a bit of confusion amongst the crowd. so clementine is quick to ask, “and what are those terms, your highness?”

one. “jungkook and i will wed next year, when spring begins.”

two. “both of us will plan the wedding, with help of others, but the main parts will be orchestrated by the two of us.”

three. “there will be no talk of an heir until we are ready.”

“deal!” both yours and jungkook’s parents say as soon as you’re done talking.

“then it is settled! prince jungkook and princess ___ will wed next spring!” clementine announces to the hall and cheers erupt through the room once more.

jungkook stands and gives you a tight hug. the moment is all too perfect, the joyous chatter of everyone around you and the warm embrace of the one you love wrapped around you. it’s something you’ve dreamed of. “i won’t let you down, princess.” he promises you, in your ear, only for you to hear.

“i’ll be the best husband this world has ever seen.”

a good husband has to be honest.

jungkook has something to tell you, and he isn’t sure how to word it. he’s scared you’ll be turned off by it. it is a pretty serious topic, so he needs to say it, or else he would feel the guilt start to build in his stomach. then before he knows it, it’ll spill all out. so it’s better to nip the bud. get it done before it becomes a bigger problem.

the two of you were having a sleepover tonight. it’s the first one you guys had since you’ve been back. jungkook brought all the fancy snacks that his mother packed along with some drinks, while you had your contraband: face masks and matching pajamas for the both of you.

he looks funny with his peel off mask drying on his face. you told him not to make any facial expressions or else it wouldn’t work. jungkook’s been pulling a straight face for ten minutes while watching elle woods destroy chutney in the courtroom.

he couldn’t have chosen a worse time to speak up about it, but it’s been eating at him for long enough. “i have to tell you something.” he says out of nowhere. you look at him, trying not to react with your face. his serious tone makes you want to burst out into laughter, it was just so out of place.

but he looks somber, like how he looks when something’s bothering him. you swallow the urge to laugh and just nod. “you can tell me while i peel this mask off your face, deal?” you ask, moving closer and picking at the edge of the mask.

you wait patiently until he spills whatever he needs to say, but he looks a little distracted by the feeling of the face mask being peeled off. he’s already nervous, he tells himself not to get side tracked. so he just spits it out. “i’m not a virgin.”

well. that was one way to start a conversation.

you try not to show your shock, but your eyebrows were already raised and now your facemask is stuck to itself. “oh— oh my god, jungkook,” you laugh, covering your mouth. “do you want a high-five or something?” you can’t hold back the laughter anymore. you raise your hand up and wait for him to reciprocate.

if you were being honest, it did make you a little jealous. you wondered who he lost it to. it was probably jieun. did he love her? enough to want to lose his virtue to her? while the questions run through your mind, he returns the high-five, taking you out of the downward spiral of queries. you weren’t angry at him. there wasn’t an agreement between the two of you that you’d take each other’s virginities. jealousy is unforgiving, because you knew there was no reason to be mad but you still felt the stupid pang in your heart.

you finish taking his mask off, expertly in one piece. jungkook waits for you as you throw it in the trash. he’s still silent, not really knowing what else to say. he was waiting for an argument, in all honesty. but you’re smiling, seemingly unaffected by his confession. “do you wanna help me take off mine?” you ask him, sitting back on the bed, facing him.

he nods, picking at the edge and trying to do exactly what you did. “you’re not upset?” he asks, pulling the mask off of your face. maybe you were, but you weren’t going to tell him. it’s in the past, what matters is now, and he’s here with you now. you couldn’t be too mad.

maybe you should be honest too. you shake your head, “of course not, i’m not a virgin either.” this conversation only proves that there was no need to hide when it came to jungkook. you admired him for speaking up about it first too, even though you aren’t exactly sure why.

jungkook successfully took your mask off in one piece as well, discarding it into the trash can. you tell him that the two of you have to wash your faces to get the tiny pieces off and he follows you into the bathroom. responding with a, “really?” and a raise of his eyebrows.

you turn the water on and splash him a little bit. “are you trying to say i’m too ugly to get laid, jeon?!” you glare.

jungkook backtracks, “no— no! you’re pretty— really pretty— i just— i didn’t know what to say.”

you roll your eyes playfully. rinsing your face with water and making sure your face is entirely clean from the mask before stepping aside and drying your face off, allowing jungkook to have his turn. “who’d you lose it to?” you asked. despite probably already knowing the answer, you just had to make sure.

“uh—” he starts, looking at you through the mirror. his eyes flicker back down to the stream of water when he answers, “jieun.”

of course. you let out a little laugh, stepping closer and nudging his side with your elbow. “congratulations, dude.” at least he told you, at least he was honest. that’s all that matters. jealousy can play it’s part later. after the sleepover.

“what about you?” jungkook asks when he finishes drying his face off. he wants to know, but at the same time he doesn’t. curiosity gets the best of everyone.

“my ex-boyfriend,” you answer nonchalantly. “min yoongi.”

“boyfriend…” he exaggerates. pursing his lips and nodding, the same jealousy you felt earlier coursing through his veins now. “that’s nice— congratulations.” he says, copying what you said. an awkward silence comes between the two of you, in turn, making the two of you laugh out loud. clutching your stomach type of laugh.

“why did you bring it up in the first place?” you question. curious as to why he would need to speak up about his sexual past.

“well, i just wanted to tell you because— i don’t know— when it happened, you were the first one i wanted to tell, and i know it’s too much information but we always talked about stuff like this— like remember when you told me when you got your first period?” he begins to ramble again. a cute habit of his.

you cringe at the mention, but you remember it so well. jungkook was so worried for you, he did all the research he could on menstrual cycles; asked his parents about it, looked online, asked his advisors, and even the doctors that come around the palace for check-ups. with all the advice he got, he showed up in front of your door with a big basket of your favorite sweets, literally every menstrual product ever produced (he wasn’t sure which one you used so he brought all), and other random things like flowers, just to be extra nice. you ended up crying in his arms because of how lovely the gesture was. it showed what kind of person jungkook was. meticulous, caring, and just so sweet.

“you’re right.” the trip down memory lane was delightful, as it always is whenever it comes to him. “but what… about us?” you asked. the question seemed random, but whenever you travel down memory lane with jungkook, you’re always reminded of the feelings that you had and still do have for jungkook. being on this topic makes you wonder: did he bring this up because he wants to have sex and wants to be transparent about how many partners he’s had?

“what do you mean? what about us?” he asks. his eyebrows are furrowed and you can tell he doesn’t understand.

the question shouldn’t have made you hesitate the way you did, but now you’re trying to find the words to backtrack. “i— um,” your smile fades a little. expecting you and jungkook to jump into a relationship was unrealistic, let alone having sex. “nothing.” you shake your head.

jungkook can somehow read your mind. he probably just picked up on context clues. “if you’re thinking about— you know— us, having sex,” he starts. “we don’t have to do anything of that sort, if you don’t want to.”

the thought is something that’s lingered in your mind for a while. same for jungkook. but neither of you will admit that. so the conversation comes to an awkward halt. you blush. “right! yeah— sure, of course.” you nod. every synonym of ‘okay’ leaves your mouth. it makes jungkook laugh, starting a domino effect and making you laugh. soon enough, the conversation was pushed aside and the two of you focused on whatever movie netflix decided to autoplay. it wasn’t long before the buzz of the tv lulled the two of you to sleep.

“jungkook! save me!” you shout from the doors of his palace, spotting him talking to his father in the foyer. you just ran from your castle to his in hopes to outrun your chaser. jungkook’s head turns at the sound of your voice, your figure coming closer and closer.

“what? what is it?” quickly placing the papers in his hand onto the table, he rushes towards you. his face was riddled with worry as he watched you run towards him.

taking you into his arms, you hold him tightly. “venus won’t stop asking me what color the table cloths for the guests should be— please… spare me, my prince.” you fake sob into his chest.

he lets out a relieved laugh, the stress lifting away when he realized that you were just being bombarded with wedding questions again. “shouldn’t they be white?” he asks.

you look up at him in his embrace, chin against his chest, near his throat. “that’s what i said! then she started asking about the details of the cloth— like if we wanted it to be a certain type of thread, if we wanted a different colored detail woven through it— i just— why does it matter?!”

“it matters because it’s going to be the wedding of the century! now tell me, ___, white with gold detail or—” venus finally finds you after asking the guards where you went. she approaches you hurriedly and tries to shove the samples in your face, but you hide in jungkook’s chest, refusing to look at them.

“the gold detail is beautiful, venus, thank you.” jungkook answers for you. you relax against him once again. venus looks satisfied, putting her cloth samples back into her bag and walking away. with venus finally out of your hair, jungkook rubs your back gently. “wanna stay the night?” jungkook asks in your ear.

“depends.” you act like you think about it. pulling away from his embrace, looking at him with a playful glare. “do they still make those strawberry tarts i used to love?”

jungkook smiles. “i’ll ask them to bake you some right now.”

“deal.” you pinch his cheek. “hello, your majesty!” you greet his dad when you turn around. jungkook moves over to the side and tells one of his assistants to ask the kitchen to make your strawberry tarts.

jungkook’s dad gives you a bright smile. “good evening, princess.” even bowing slightly.

“you know you don’t need to do that, papa, it’s just me.” you smiled, giving him a curtsy back for the courtesy

“yes, yes, i know.” he laughs. “i’m just so glad to see you home.” opening his arms for a hug. which you move for immediately, hugging him tightly.

jungkook’s parents were always amazing to you. never making you feel unwelcome or uncomfortable. “i missed you as well, you and mama jeon always make me feel at home whenever i’m here.” you express your gratitude to him.

he holds one of your hands in his. “it is your second home, ___.”

“thank you,” you grinned. when you look down, his hands are holding an entire stack of papers. it must be something important, you excuse yourself so that they could finish their business. “i’ll see you later, papa! jungkook! i’ll be in your room!”

jungkook only gives you a thumbs up as he takes his place back next to his dad. the two of them watch as you skip your way up the stairs. your figure receding as you make it to his room when jungkook’s dad speaks up once more. “she is something else, son.” patting his back with a light laugh.

jungkook laughs too. a big smile on his face when he says, “in the best way possible.”

“agreed.” he replicates the same smile that’s on his son’s face. “i’m happy for you.”

when he looks down, his father holds out the papers to verify the marriage arrangement for him to sign. your family had already signed and his parents did too, a while ago. jungkook told them that he’ll only sign after you did. then, just after breakfast when the two of you announced your agreement to the arrangement, you signed happily. it’s a little late because jungkook’s been super busy, but now, with excitement in his heart for your future together, he scribbles his signature on the line. “thanks, dad.” he says as he hands the papers back to him.

they settle the rest of their business and finish signing some more papers. after about ten minutes, jungkook is finished with all the reading and signatures. he makes his way to the kitchen and the chefs hand him a platter of strawberry tarts on the cutest serving plate. white with little red hearts that match the strawberries. a detail that jungkook knows you’ll appreciate.

with two waters in his hand and the tarts in the other, he makes his way up the stairs. hilariously, a problem arises when jungkook needs to open the door to his room. he doesn’t wanna put the stuff down and he figures that you probably can’t hear him if he knocks because the volume of the tv is leaking through the door. in the corner of his eye, jungkook can see a guard crossing the hallway. “psst!” he calls out, hoping to get his attention. the guard passes by without a second thought. a few seconds pass and he can hear the guard take a couple steps back.

soon enough, the guard pops his head into the hallway. “everything alright, your highness?” he asks.

“yes, but— do you mind opening the door for me?” he laughs awkwardly. the guard nods and rushes over, turning the knob and sliding the door open. “thanks, man, have a good night.” he smiles at the guard.

“of course— you too, your highness.” he bows before leaving him be.

when he enters the room, you’re nowhere to be seen. the tv is on and playing some scary movie from what he can tell, the background music is eerie and quite frankly creeping him out. he sets down the waters first onto his bedside table and you come out of his bathroom at the perfect time. “there you are.” he sighs. “how are you just going to play a scary movie and then make me come into an empty room?!” he cries.

you roll your eyes playfully. “my apologies, prince, i didn’t hear you come in!” sporting a hoodie and a pair of boxers stolen from jungkook’s closet, you jump into his bed and eye the beautifully plated tarts in his grasp.

jungkook tries not to get distracted by the way you look right now. so cute in his clothes. he wonders if you caught the way that he looked you up and down. when he realizes that you’ve been staring at the tarts, he refocuses and picks up one of the pastries, holding it close to your mouth “your tarts, your majesty.” when you open to take a bite, he snatches it back quickly and takes a bite himself. his face contorted in pleasure, the treat was perfect amounts sweet and sour.

“jungkook,” you deadpanned. your straight face breaks into laughter not even a second later when he holds the bitten pastry back up to your mouth. “you literally ate half of it!”

“then eat the rest of it!” he shoots back with a laugh. you roll your eyes, taking the rest of the pastry into your mouth. in turn, your lips slightly graze against his fingers. it wasn’t helping that your eyes were looking directly into jungkook’s. it was quite obvious that there was some tension here.

neither of you knew how to address moments like this.

most of the time the two of you just act like it never happened. but they’ve just been happening a little too often these days. like that one time you and jungkook almost kissed after he helped you put on a necklace. that time you and jungkook were hiding from blue; he held his hand over your mouth and the other arm tightly around your waist so you wouldn’t move or make a noise. then now, your sex eyes peering directly into his as your lips graze his fingers. yeah… it was a hard thing to talk about.

jungkook is just as confused as you when it comes to whatever the two of you were. just best friends? engaged but friends? dating? no, that wouldn’t be right. jungkook should ask you to be his girlfriend, er— fiancee, right? just because the two of you are arranged to be married doesn’t mean the two of you go from best friends to a pair of lovers just like that, even with requited feelings.

communication wasn’t a hard thing for the two of you. being best friends for twenty years does that to you. fights, the silent treatment, and even that one period of time where you swore that you’d never talk to jungkook ever again; you guys have been through it all.

it’s just that— neither of you really know how to go about it. this conversation was awkward. maybe it’s just not time to talk about it yet, jungkook thought. you were so busy these days. your advisors would pull you away from him before he even got a word in.

then when you two do get the time to spend with each other, the both of you are usually exhausted from the days you’ve had. even though the wedding was an entire year away, there was way more planning than either of you expected. everyone wants it to be perfect. which is nice in hindsight, but it does get annoying sometimes. like how venus was hounding you earlier for the choice of table cloths.

so the two of you just ignore it for now. maybe when it becomes more of a problem, you’ll talk about it with each other. but for now, it’s just something neither of you are ready to face. you chew and swallow the rest of the tart while jungkook moves into the bathroom to get ready for bed. giving the both of you enough time to calm down and gather your thoughts.

when he comes back out, you’ve eaten at least three more strawberry tarts and started a new movie. another scary one. jungkook doesn’t understand how you can watch these kinds of things before you go to sleep, it’s like you’re immune to nightmares or something.

but you weren’t immune to feeling tired. just before jungkook joins you in bed, you let out a yawn before stretching your limbs a little bit.

“tired?” jungkook asks, pulling the comforter over his legs.

you nod, “a little.”

he smiles. “it’s late,” he nods to the clock on his night stand. one in the morning. “sleep, you did a lot of work today.”

“i know,” you groan. “just one more bite.” trying to fit an entire strawberry tart into your mouth was a bad decision. the pastry crumbled into your throat and had you choking for a minute.

jungkook comes to the rescue with your glass of water and a hand rubbing circles against your back. “alright, alright.” he laughs. “no more tarts— go to sleep, princess.”

when you’ve come down from your coughing fit, you nod before you tell him that you’re going to call seungyeon and jimin. “let me just update them about the wedding planning— they’re gonna laugh about everything, i just know it!”

“it’s supposed to be a secret, princess.” jungkook shakes his head, watching as your hands pull out your phone at lightning speed.

“oh… really?” you pause, “i’ve been telling them everything since we’ve started.” jungkook only laughs. he could never be mad at that, why wouldn’t you wanna share something like this with your friends?

“just make sure your advisors don’t find out, okay?” he holds his pinky up for a classic promise, which you reciprocate.

the next fifteen minutes or so, jungkook acts like he isn’t listening to your conversation as he immerses himself into the storyline of this movie, it was interesting but not as interesting as the way you tell them about the wedding. you sound so excited, telling seungyeon that you’re gonna have to go dress shopping soon and that you want her to be there and everything. it makes jungkook smile. it’s more back and forth between the two of you, seungyeon saying of course she’ll be there and you saying that she better because you’re sending a jet to her. it was quite funny.

then seungyeon’s voice rings over the line, updating you about how jimin’s prepping for his big dance recital on saturday and how much they miss you.

you wish you could go to support him. jimin’s been dancing for as long as he’s lived. he’s so passionate about it and you admire him for it. he talked your ear off about how excited he was about this performance. that the crowd is going to be the biggest he’s ever performed for and how scouts will be in the audience. you wished you could go.

the way your voice shakes isn’t something you can hide very well. over the phone it may pass off as a breath you took too long to breathe in, but in person, jungkook can hear the way that your voice gives way to the tears building in your eyes. “tell him i wish him the best of luck.”

“of course,” she answers. “oh! and i was able to take some pictures when we went into the city, you remember all those hole-in-the-wall spots, right? turns out they’re great for photography!”

not long after, you received an email notification. containing the pictures that seungyeon took and they were beautiful. the city's night lights make everything look so cool, like a movie.

you miss the city. you miss your friends.

“they’re gorgeous,” you tell her. scrolling through picture after picture. seungyeon rambles more about a new restaurant they found that she hopes to bring you (and jungkook) to when they have the chance. jungkook could see the way that your energy changed. you’re sad now. he can feel it. he knows you miss the city. the way you slowly scroll through the pictures, longing to be there instead of having to look at a picture of it through a screen.

the gears in his head turn. a plan has already been set into motion for a date between the two of you. yugyeom, taehyung, and eunwoo have all been trying to pitch in, give him ideas as to where to go, what to do. but jungkook thinks he knows exactly what to do. he wanted to do this right.

so that next morning, jungkook makes an important phone call after retrieving the phone number from namjoon.

“hello, jimin? this is jungkook…”

it’s already been a week and a half since you and jungkook agreed to an arranged marriage. you’ve only been able to see him five out of the twelve days. busy was an understatement. venus said there is too much to do and that even a year isn’t enough time to get everything done. it seems like an exaggeration, in your opinion. sure, a wedding was a lot of work, but did you really need to be there to confirm everything?

maybe venus will let you have a break one of these days. you don’t suspect it to be anytime soon. today, you were told to wake up early (six in the morning type of early) and get dressed. no one told you exactly why, but you listened and once you were ready, made your way to the briefing room.

when you push the big doors open, venus eyes you suspiciously. “princess, what are you doing here? we are not wedding planning today.”

you furrow your eyebrows. “then what are we doing?”

“you are going on a plane, something about a political appearance.” she winks. walking your way and weaving her arm through yours to lead you out.

“already? mother said appearances weren’t for another month!” you groaned.

“sorry, princess.” she laughs. “your bags are being packed as we speak, just go freshen up and we’ll meet jungkook and blue at the royal runway.”

“got it.” you assure her. ah, such a good kid. venus thinks. you don’t even question the random political appearance and just accept it at face value. she knows you’ll be surprised. you don’t even suspect a thing!

after maybe ten minutes, you walk with venus down to the runway and meet up with the boys. jungkook seems a little nervous. he’s doing that thing where he shifts his weight on his feet. “you okay?” you ask him.

“yeah! yeah— why wouldn’t i be?” jungkook answers. a smile that’s way too bright is displayed on his face. you suspect it’s just nerves for the speech he’s probably gonna have to do.

“if you’re nervous, just remember i’ll be right there next to you, yeah?” you assure him. gently taking his hand into yours.

jungkook is suddenly reminded why he shouldn’t be so damn nervous. because it’s you. he gets to be with you. to marry you. of course, he wants it to be perfect, that’s why he keeps going over everything in his head, making sure he’s got everything down. but it’s you. his best friend. when he looks at you, his nerves are at ease. that burning feeling in his chest dies down and his throat no longer feels like closing in on itself.

he lets out a breath. “ready?”

you nod, “where are we going anyway? venus never told me.” stepping up into the aircraft and taking your seat, jungkook and blue follow suit.

“i think we’re going to gotia, right, blue?” jungkook answers, turning his head to namjoon. his face directly telling him to go along with it.

“yes, your highness, gotia.” namjoon smiles brightly.

your eyebrows knit together. they’re acting weird again. “alright…” you say, suspicious of them already. “wake me up when we’re there.”

apparently, you were exhausted. you slept through the entire plane ride and it was a fifteen hour plane ride. namjoon said you did this the last time too. only waking up to eat and talk briefly before falling asleep again. it was a great time for namjoon and jungkook to gather blackmail photos for themselves as your sleeping faces are unbeatable. even when you land, you don’t wake up. jungkook isn’t gonna be the one to wake you up, so he gently lifts you up, bridal style. you don’t even bother opening your eyes, you just cuddle into his further. jungkook was always so warm, and so strong. he carries you into a car and lets you continue sleeping there, with your head on his shoulder.

after about twenty minutes of traffic, you finally decide to open your eyes. suddenly conscious of the way that jungkook’s hand is intertwined with yours. you don’t mind, his hand felt nice in yours. with sleep-riddled eyes, you look outside the window to see city infrastructure; which is not very common in gotia. gotia is a green mountain country, known particularly for their abundance of livestock and green grass.

you give them the benefit of doubt, perhaps you guys were just going somewhere in gotia that you’ve never been before. so you ask, “where exactly in gotia are we going?”

jungkook smiles. a very mischievous smile. “you’ll see when we get there, princess, don’t worry.”

hm, suspicious. this time you sit up, the seat belt digging into your belly when you push forward to lean against the front seat. “blue, where are we going?” you ask your trusty body guard.

“i am just following directions, your highness.” he tells you with a tight grin.

you were already suspicious during the plane ride, and now since neither jungkook or namjoon want to tell you where you’re going; you’re starting to put the pieces together. they’re gonna make you play that game where blue drops you and jungkook off in a random location and the two of you have to figure out where to go from there. and from your own experience: it sucks! so you scoff. “you guys are kidnapping me! hand me my phone, i am calling my father.” holding your hand out with your palm facing up. both of them laugh, jungkook places his hand on yours instead of giving you your phone.

“just wait a little longer, princess.” jungkook tells you as he intertwines your fingers together.

another few minutes and you’re still unsure of where you are, the dark tint of the windows is only adding onto the difficulty to spot the exact location. blue stops abruptly and turns to the two of you, “i was told to let you off here.” he says. the street is empty, but somewhat familiar. you weren’t able to get another look before jungkook covered your eyes.

“it’s a surprise, close your eyes.” he says. out of habit, you close your eyes, giving your trust to jungkook. jungkook steps out of the car first and then the door to the left of you opens. you keep your eyes closed and scoot out of the car with jungkooks’ help. he helps you out and onto the ground where he leads you somewhere onto the sidewalk.

“can i open my eyes now?” you ask, still squeezing your eyes shut.

“in a sec,” jungkook promises. bringing you a little further, you can hear him open a door and feel him lead you inside. “you can open your eyes now, we have to go up some stairs first.” he tells you.

when you open your eyes, you’re in a staircase with carpeted floors and metal railings. it looks fancy. the two of you make it up the stairs and you still can’t tell where the hell you are before jungkook tells you to close your eyes again. he opens another door and leads you out, leading you through a curtain you can feel. now you can hear some noise, quiet bickers of a crowd of people. it had to be hundreds of people out there.

you hear jungkook sit down beside you before he speaks up once more, “okay, open.”

scared, you only open your right eye just a peek. from the image, there’s an entire crowd below you. you’re in a theater of some sort. no, wait— it’s not just some theater, it’s the theater. the one that jimin’s performing at! that’s when your eyes shoot open. you’re back in the city, with jungkook by your side, about to watch your best friends’ performance.

“no way.” you spoke quietly, facing jungkook. he only smiles at you, holding your hand in his. “did you really do this for me?” the two of you sat in the highest box seat, jimin called them ‘the rich people seats.’ no one can really see you from here and you had one of the best views; it was perfect.

it was just so thoughtful. he must have noticed how homesick you were feeling, how much you yearned to see your friends again. this is the best gift you could have ever received. you’re not even sure what to say, and jungkook understands. he doesn’t expect any thank you’s or a major display of affection. he’s just happy that you’re happy.

when the lights dim and the music begins to play, you can’t help but feel the tears start to build in your eyes. “thank you, jungkook, so much.” you pull yourself close to him, laying your head on his shoulder.

“of course, princess.” he tells you, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you in closer. “anything for you.”

with that, a tear falls and the curtains are drawn. revealing jimin standing in position with a beautiful dark forest background, performing his black swan routine. one of his longest and most physically intensive choreography he’s ever made. but it’s so damn gorgeous. he performs flawlessly and receives a standing ovation. you couldn’t have been any happier for him.

during the extended applause, jungkook stands up pulls you along, through another carpeted hallway. “wait— where are we going?” you ask him. his other hand holds a bouquet that literally came out of nowhere. “and where did you get those flowers?!”

“we’re gonna see jimin!” he tells you as he maneuvers through the never ending hallways. “oh, and i hid these— so you could give them to jimin.”

the two of you stop just before another door, you pull him back gently. “what? people are going to see us, jungkook, we aren’t allowed to be outside of the kingdom without proper guards.”

“no one will see us, i promise, jimin will meet us here in this room.” he tells you. the both of you peek through the door window, it was an empty practice room. the door on the other side of the room opens and it’s the cue that it’s safe to come in. “ready?” he asks, holding the flowers out for you to take.

you start crying again, it was immediate. jungkook wipes the tears away quickly, “don’t cry, princess.” he places a sweet kiss on your forehead before he hands you the bouquet and opens the door for you.

then there in the middle of the room stands your best friend. his arms open for a hug and you run into them. crying even harder when you realize that jimin is crying too, you can hear the way he sniffles. “why are you crying?! you did amazing!” you sob.

“because you’re here and everything went perfectly— it’s just overwhelming.” he admits, pulling back from the hug. the two of you laugh at your crying faces.

“congratulations, jimin.” you tell him, holding out the flowers for him.

“thank you, ___.” he accepts them with a smile, wiping his tears and turning his attention to jungkook, who stands at the door as a lookout. “jungkook—! oh crap, wait— should i call him majesty or highness or something?” jimin’s quickly tries to correct himself, asking you for advice.

you can only laugh and shake your head. “you can just call him jungkook.”

“i was called?” jungkook stands just behind you, with a smile on his face.

“yeah, man— come here.” jimin embraces him in a hug and jungkook doesn’t object it.

rubbing his back, jungkook congratulates him as well. “you’re incredibly talented, jimin.” he smiles when he pulls away. “it’s great to finally meet you in person.”

“thank—”

“jimin! it’s curtain call!” a lady barges into the practice room. she stands speechless for a second, her eyes darting straight to jungkook. “wait, is that prince jungkook?!” all of you are wide eyed. jimin’s mouth is silently telling you two to ‘run!’ before you knew it, she was pulling out her phone, trying to take a picture.

jimin is quick to block the camera as he shouts. “go! hurry!” the two of you rush out of the door you came from. you and jungkook bolt back to the car, blue is a little startled when you both jump in, breathless.

“everything alrig—“

“drive!” you demanded.

“shit— alright!” blue complies and steps on the gas, getting you out of the parking spot behind the theater and now onto the streets of the city.

now that everyone’s calmed down. you just realized that you, again, have no idea where you were going. “now where are we off to? it’s about eleven o’clock, right?”

“go with the plan, blue.” jungkook tells him. with the creepy wording, you begin to feel more suspicion around the two of them. what more surprises could there be?

the three of you spent another fifteen or so minutes of driving, and quite frankly you were tired of looking for little landmarks to pinpoint where you were. just as you were about to ask again, blue stops the car and looks at jungkook.

“okay, another surprise— close your eyes.” jungkook says. you can’t help but admit this is kind of fun. sure, you were annoying the hell out of the boys for the past fifteen minutes asking when you were gonna get there and where you were going. but they love you either way.

you keep your eyes squeezed shut as jungkook helps you out of the car and onto another sidewalk. “just a little further.” he says, leading you closer to whatever it was. just before he speaks again, you hear a little jingle. “okay, open.”

when your eyes finally adjust to the city lights, you recognize the building entirely too well. a place that you lived for five years. “is this— are we— no way!” you stutter, purely out of surprise. you were sure that you weren’t going to see this place for at least another decade.

you stand there speechless, just like how you did at jimin’s recital, for a good minute or so. jungkook has to wave his hand in front of your face to break you out of the trance.

“so, are you gonna show me your apartment or not?” jungkook grins, holding up your cutely decorated keychain. you squeal in excitement as he hands you the keys and you drag him into the building. it’s only been about a month and a half since you’ve last seen it, but it feels so nostalgic. it feels special. you suspect it’s because of the man whose hand you’re holding right now.

up the elevator and to the left, the apartment labeled with a silver plated 101 beckons you inside. soon enough, you’re pulling jungkook through the door and giving him a detailed tour of your shoe closet that is right there when you walk in.

as the two of you walk around, it’s cleaner than you remember. venus must have gotten people to tidy the place up after you left. just as you finish the very short tour of your apartment, you remember that you’d left some things from jimin and seungyeon in your room. “make yourself at home, my prince, i’ll just be in my room, collecting some things.” you excuse yourself and let jungkook look around some more.

if jungkook were honest, he would have told you that he got a bit of whiplash from your tour. he was turning every two seconds because you were speaking so fast. you were just so excited, and jungkook couldn’t have been happier. everything was going exactly as planned. the clock was ticking and jungkook did have a schedule to be on, but there was nothing wrong with a little snooping around your apartment. he wanted to see the place that you called home for the past five years.

your couch looks cozy, blankets on one side with decorative pillows to adorn the piece of furniture. your coffee table is cute too. you’ve got good taste. everything just seems so you. so when jungkook turns toward the bookcase you mentioned earlier into your tour. it was crowded with books, photo albums, cd’s, and records. a specific photo album catches his eyes, a cute light blue album. on the spine it was labeled: ‘jjk’ and from what jungkook knows, it must be his initials.

it’s when he opens it is when he confirms. the album is full of pictures of the two of you when you were kids, at every festival, from infant to teens. flipping through the pages, both of your smiles never changed. over the years; in both of your eyes, the certain glimmer of love shines so brightly. he puts it back with a soft smile after he’s flipped through all the pages. another book catches his eyes, your favorite fairy tale story: hansel and gretel. while everyone made fun of your choice of story, jungkook thought it was cool. you were all about safety and stranger danger, therefore making hansel and gretel a good story for kids to read (in your opinion.) you always read it when you needed to make an important decision, you called it a comfort read. it helped you get into the right mindset, think about all the pros and especially the cons of the decision you were about to make.

jungkook was only going to look at it and flip through the pages mindlessly. but when he pulls it out of its place in the bookshelf, two envelopes fall out from between the pages. squatting down, he picks up the fallen pieces of paper and coincidentally, sees his name on one of the letters. the other is blank, just a plain envelope. if it was addressed to him, then it means it was meant for him, therefore, he could read it… right?

jungkook,

if you are reading this, then that means i’ve already left for the city.

first, i wanted to apologize: for everything. for not telling you that i would leave sooner, for leaving you, for not telling you how i felt.

i was scared terrified that i would ruin our friendship if i ever told you, but now, since i don’t know if i’ll ever come back. i need to get this off my chest.

i’ve wanted to tell you this for the longest time.

jeon jungkook, i am in love with you.

i’m sorry this is how you had to find out, i’m sorry i didn’t have the courage to tell you in person.

but i love you, and i think i always will.

i hope you will be happy, whoever you marry. i hope they love you the way you deserve.

i hope to be at your wedding when i hear the news.

i’m sorry again.

sincerely,

___

easily, his eyes gloss over. you’ve loved him all along. he should have known. how could he have not known? thoughts run through his mind at hundreds of miles an hour; what would have happened if you did give this to him when you left. he probably would have gotten on the next plane out and searched the city to find you. probably would have done the exact same thing he did recently, beg you to give the two of you a chance. he shakes his head, sliding the letter back into its envelope. reading the other letters wouldn’t hurt, right?

of course not, he tells himself. he was always so nosy. the blank envelope held multiple pieces of paper. most of them were unfinished confessions to him, smudged black ink with multiple sentences crossed off. from what he can count, you wanted to confess to him at least five times now.

jungkook isn’t sure how he feels, he just knows how in love he is. this feeling of being surrounded by warmth, it’s enough to make a tear slip out. he can’t help but smile either. this is the boost of confidence he needed for tonight. he was so nervous before, that everything would go terribly wrong, but now he’s just so… content, so happy. he wanted to hug you, kiss you, everything. so he puts the envelopes back into the book, places it back into the shelf and makes his way to your room. your body hovers over your vanity, digging through your jewelry box.

“my princess.” jungkook pouts even though you can’t see him. coming from behind, he hugs you tightly and rests his head against yours. he tries to hide the way that his tears began to tear up. you look up from your tangle of necklaces, turning and taking him into your arms.

“are you crying?” the single tear that rolls down his cheek grabs your attention. your hand immediately coming up to wipe it away. “what’s wrong? do you hate my little apartment that much?” you let out a laugh.

he laughs too, shaking his head with a smile. “your little apartment is perfect— i love it actually, i love you.”

“aw,” you mumble against his chest. “i love you too, even though you’re acting super weird.” the two of you stand there, swaying in a hug for a little longer.

“am not.” he rests his chin atop your head.

“whatever you say.” you hum, pulling him towards your prized possession— your queen sized bed. the two of you plop on top, your fluffy comforter proving to be one of the best purchases you have ever made in your entire life. the two of you lay there in silence for a little bit, you almost fall asleep due to how warm jungkook is.

“as much as i would love to cuddle and take a nap in your bed, we’re on a tight schedule— c’mon.” jungkook says as he stands from your bed, pulling you up.

“a schedule?” you quirk an eyebrow. “what else are we gonna do in the city? our faces are plastered all over the internet, not to mention you’re the most-thirsted-after prince in the entire world.” you ask as he tugs you through the hallway and back into the living room.

“can you show me the roof?” jungkook asks. a sly smile on his face, while you’re still completely clueless.

“of course!” you squeal, excited to show him the amazing view of the city the roof of your building has. the two of you exit your apartment and you pull him up another two flights of stairs. “usually it’s kind of dirty, so don’t mind the mess.” you warn before opening the heavy door.

but when you push it open, the roof is…clean. it’s decorated too. it’s not the same as you last saw it. “huh— would you look at that?” jungkook steps out onto the roof first, with his hands on his hips as he looks back at you. “it looks pretty clean— and look! it’s set up for dinner...?” he acts surprised. his eyebrows raised as the two of you walk towards the dinner table. he pulls out the chair for you to sit down and you can’t help but let out a little laugh.

“so this was your plan.” you snort. dinner was in the shape of cups of ice cream. it was adorable. “ice cream for dinner?”

jungkook nods, handing you a tiny spoon for the ice cream. “your favorite.”

he did all of this for me. you realize the effort. he must have gone through meticulous planning and conspiring all of this in secret. he’s good. really good. god, you could kiss him.

the two of you sit there in the ambiance of the late city night, eating ice cream and having a small conversation. whenever the conversation paused, you could hear some music playing quietly in the back.

jungkook really did deserve the mantle of prince charming. king of romance. ruler of your heart.

“do you hear that?” jungkook asks, holding a hand out next to his ear. a familiar tune playing from wherever the music was. standing up, he extends his grasp for you to take. “a dance, princess?”

“you know i have two left feet.” you try to decline him, remembering how taehyung teased you about the way that you tripped over his feet when the two of you danced at your welcome home party. but jungkook doesn’t mind. he loves dancing with you, always has. he loves the way that your feet crash into his, how focused you get when you try not to get the moves wrong. he wanted to waltz with you everywhere, even if you stood on his feet the entire time.

“just follow me, alright?” he smiles. giving in, you take his hand and the two of you make your way to the middle of the rooftop. the night sky bearing witness to one of the most romantic things you’ve ever received. you feel his hand wrap around your waist, guiding you to step where he does.

“sparks, huh?” you smile, finally putting a title on the song playing. “kind of a sad song to dance to.” following his moves, dancing does seem a little easier with jungkook there.

“i thought it was perfect.” he states, leading you in for a twirl and then back into his arms. “it explains exactly how i feel about you.

“yeah?” you look up to him. even in this faint lighting, the abandoned flickering light bulbs that hang from strings all across the rooftop from an old tenant party, he still shines so bright.

he nods. the two of you silently sway for another few beats of the song. you lay your head against his chest, the beat of his heart is as calming as the music in the back. maybe if you just leave your eyes closed, this moment could last forever.

meanwhile, jungkook is trying to amp himself up to get these words out. another confession and an important question sits heavy on his tongue. he knows you feel the same, knows that you’ll accept, but he’s still so nervous. what if you don’t say yes and he’s left there with his knee against the rough concrete floor? what if this was just too cheesy for you and you hate it?

jungkook tells himself there’s only one way to find out.

“i— can i tell you something?” he asks. you lift your head away and look in his eyes, they greet you with that sweet eye smile that hasn’t changed in all the days you’ve known him.

“of course.” you pull yourself back, holding his hands.

“when you were gone...i was always afraid that i was romanticizing you— i had nothing but our memories and the small talks we would have sometimes through our parents,” he admits. “i was scared that i was in love with the idea of you, and not… you— you know?”

his confession makes you stop in your tracks, clear disbelief on your face as you drop his hands from your grasp. “what?! jungkook— why are you telling me this now?” you groan, folding your arms over your chest. you move to grab your phone to find a way to reverse this. “you know what— it’s not too late to cancel the engagement and call up the king of fenutar— i’m sure they’ll forgive you— yeah, let’s give them a call—”

he pulls you back gently, “princess, relax.” he laughs. “i was just getting started.”

your gaze softens, letting him finish his point as he restarts the sway. your feet move with his, slowly to the beat of the song playing in the back. it’s changed to something calmer, from what you could hear, it sounds like cigarettes after sex.

“this past month, ever since you came back—” he starts up once more. you attention falling back onto him instead of the music in the back. “i don’t know what it is, but i think i was wrong.” he says. you gently furrow your eyebrows. confused as to what he means. jungkook brings his hand up to your face, cupping your jaw before raising his thumb to soothe the creases in your forehead.

relaxing your muscles under his touch, he lowers his hands back down to hold your hands. he says the next words, staring straight into your eyes. “i love you, i always want to be around you, i wonder if you are alright— if you’re sad, because i want to be there for you, i want to take care of you.” your hands are pulled close to him, enough for him to be able to gently press a kiss against your knuckles. “i want to be by your side, against foes seen and unseen.”

“so—“ he lets go of your hand to pull a tiny white box out from his pocket and gets on one knee. “will you marry me?”

the rough ground against his clothed knee doesn’t matter anymore when he sees the sweetest smile on your face. everything is perfect.

you let out a little laugh, your smile going from ear to ear. “yes! of course— yes, yes!” tears collect in your eyes quickly. holding your arms out for him, jungkook comes up and collects your embrace. a tear slips out and he can hear your sniffle. gently, he wipes the tear away, and the two of you stare at each other just long enough. long enough to understand that this was the time.

you both lean forward and finally, let your lips connect. a kiss seals the fate of both hearts involved.

dreaming of this moment ever since you were fifteen has given you quite high expectations for it, but jungkook always exceeds expectations. even when you think he couldn’t be anymore perfect, he always has something up his sleeve. it shows in the way his kiss is gentle, but so passionate. transferring his love to you in the most efficient way possible.

jungkook is in dreamland almost. wonders if this is what being on drugs is like. pure euphoria. knows that this is what love stories are based off of. pure adoration. fears what he’ll do if he won’t be able to kiss you. the beginning of an addiction. your lips, they take him prisoner.

slowly, the two of you pull away and stare at each other like love sick puppies. jungkook holds your face in his hand as you lean into his grasp. the sound of confetti poppers startle you, flinching at the noise before looking to see what happened. through the rain of confetti, you can see all of them. seungyeon, jimin, blue, taehyung, eunwoo, and yugyeom. you didn’t think it could get any better. you were so happy.

“congratulations, your majesties.” blue moves forward after the confetti settles and hands the two of you a purple rose. the national flower of raemor and it was a common tradition to give engaged couples raemors for good luck all throughout their relationship and marriage. you thank blue with a hug and so does jungkook. jimin and seungyeon also congratulate you, seungyeon pulls out her camera and shows you the pictures she took while she was hidden with everyone behind the huge skylights.

eunwoo takes hold of your hand gently, raising the ring up for everyone to see. jimin and seungyeon also come close to get a better look, holding your arm still. “that rock is adorable, jungkook.” he pats him on the back. making slight fun of the stones size. everyone in the kingdom was used to huge gems, rings that would weigh down the finger of the wearer. you give eunwoo a light shove.

the ring was your style. it was actually really thoughtful too. there were conversations where you and jungkook would gossip about the adults sometimes, you knew everything back then. who was cheating on who, whose wives knew about the mistress, whose husbands knew about the paramour. then most of the time, they would solve it through money. buying bigger, more expensive material things to woo them, to make them forget the betrayals. you hated it. you specifically remember telling jungkook that you’d rather have a small ring and a great love, instead of a big ring and a loveless marriage.

so when you stare at the pretty gem laid on your ring finger, you realize it’s just more evidence that jungkook listens, and he takes your words into account. you couldn’t have been happier with the piece of jewelry. “i think it’s beautiful.” you pout in defense of the ring.

“it’s a red diamond.” namjoon tells them. “one of the rarest diamonds in the world.”

“how much is it?” yugyeom peers at the ring as well, he likes the way it sparkles even without the light.

“it doesn’t matter!” you groan, looking at jungkook for some help as four different people have your hand in their grasp.

“the diamond itself is roughly about five million— the rest of the ring, i can’t say.” namjoon shrugs nonchalantly.

jimin and seungyeon gasp at the same time, same pitch. both yugyeom and eunwoo’s eyes almost bulge out of their sockets. “sorry man— i thought it was a ruby.” eunwoo scratches the back of his head. jungkook only laughs at the conversation, not taking any of it to heart, along with taehyung (and chaeyoung!) who helped him customize the ring in the first place.

“five million?! are you serious?” you turn to him, about to scold him for wasting his money. just for an engagement ring too?!

he catches your hand before you can shove him like you did eunwoo. he brings it to his mouth, kissing your ring finger gently. before coming close to your ear, he whispers, “it’s worth way more than five million.”

“jungkook!”

taglist: @kookxin @fan-ati--c

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babyyweebbitch · 3 years

Note

Can you make a GC for the RE Boys + Piers and Jake where they try to calm down an angry reader but ended up getting a bloody nose by accident?

😀 yes. I’m so sorry this took a few days. I couldn’t get creative enough in one day for this. I’m so so sorry!

Genre // I have no idea what to call it ; fluff (towards the ends)

TW // angy/stressed reader ; blood ; arguing ; Leon being adorable af

Characters // Leon, Carlos, Jake, Piers

Leon Kennedy

You weren’t really having the best day today. You woke up late which made you late for work, you had so much work to do, two meetings and your boss ended getting mad at you because you didn’t do everything you had to that day

Everything was so shitty you felt like punching a brick wall. On top of that you had to fix the tire on your truck since it popped. Today wasn’t really the day to be fucked with

You got home and threw your bag on the floor, took off your shoes and went to the dining room to sit at the table. You felt so pissed off and tired. You heard the footsteps of your boyfriend coming from you bedroom

“You okay…? You usually never come in like this…” Leon spoke as he placed a hand on your back, you quickly moved his hand away

“Don’t touch me right now…” you responded and Leon looked almost offended. He sat next to you and Leon being Leon he still continued to get you to talk to him about your day

“Honey please… I’ll get you a glass of water maybe some food so you can talk… did you eat your lunch I packed for you?” Pls protect this man at all costs 🥺

“Leon please…. I don’t want to talk about it I’m too tired, im stressed the hell out, Please just go away!” the stress from that day was too much for you to handle and you started to cry from it

Leon hated seeing you this stressed. He knew you didn’t mean any of that it was just the emotions were too much for you to handle right now. He knows exactly how you feel because he gets the same way too. The difference between you and him is you don’t tell him you’re stressed and he hates that “baby….”

Leon went over to you to hug you but you put your hand up thinking it was his shoulder, you pushed him away “Leon please! I-“ you looked up at him and realised it wasn’t his shoulder it was his face you pushed

Leon stood back and wiped his nose before looking at it — He was bleeding… Seeing the blood and knowing you did that made you feel like shit… you started to cry more “I-I’m sorry!”

Leon went to get some tissue and wipe the blood before getting more to plug that nostril. He surprisingly wasn’t mad “don’t be.. I get you’re upset” he washed his hands and went over to hug you. You hugged back

“You’re not mad at me…?”

“I get your upset and I know you didn’t mean it. Look Let’s go get you changed and cleaned up then we can watch a movie” he suggested as he helped you up. This man never got mad with you even if you accidentally hurt him like now. Especially when your emotions explode like that

😡 —————————————— 😡

Carlos Oliveira

It’s been a long and stressful month for you. Umbrella was working you like a dog, making you do all these papers, tasks, one stressful mission

Ontop of all this you weren’t getting as much sleep as you would like. When you got home Carlos was already home since he wasn’t worked as much as you were so he got to go home earlier

You put all your stuff on the floor by the door and stormed to your bedroom, you looked like you were crying the entire drive home mainly cause you were

“Well hello to you to…” Carlos said under his breath as he dried his hands off and turned off the sink water. He was washing the dishes since he was about to make dinner “hey! What’s up with you?” Carlos walked into the room to see you crying on the bed

“Carlos I can’t deal with this job anymore… I honestly fucking can’t anymore. They’ve been working me like a dog, no brakes, nothing!” You said as Carlos went over to you and sighed

“I’m sorry…. I-“

“No you aren’t being if you were you would have noticed by now and said something! Tried to at least help me once” you got up and grabbed a fresh pair of clothes

“Whoa what the hell? I asked you if you needed help like two weeks ago with papers and you said no. I tried to help you but you said you can handle it”

“Carlos…. Please just go away and let me be… I don’t need this right now”

“I — Talk to me please. I wanna help I’m sorry I didn’t…” Carlos walked over and placed his hands on your shoulders as if trying to comfort you

You snapped and pushed him away “Carlos please! I said — oh no…” you finally realised how hard you pushed him because now his nose was bleeding, two drops fell on the floor

Carlos was more shocked that you managed to push him THAT hard he put his hand to his nose and started at you. You just stood there expecting him to be mad at you and like storm out the room or something but he just chuckled “well damn…”

You stood there and stared at him, you felt so bad you looked at your hands as if they were weapons “I-I hurt you…. I’m so sorry please, Carlos!” Your voice shook as you started to cry again

Carlos held his hand on his nose then grabbed yours with his free hand, you flinched at his touch since you were afraid you were gonna hurt him again “I know you didn’t mean it honey… don’t beat yourself up over it. You were pissed and exploded. You see how I get when I’m like that — I just never hit you because I’m not like that. Accidents happen”

Let’s just say you didn’t touch him for like three weeks after that

😡 —————————————— 😡

Jake Muller

Jake was always able to tell when something was wrong with you from a mile away. He knew everything mainly because he was very observant. So when you were pissed he knew.

You’ve been in a pissy mood all day and Jake finally decided to say something about “hey. The hell is up with you? You’ve been mad all day and won’t even give me a kiss”

“I’m fine Jake…”

“It’s your dad again isn’t it? I told you to tell me whenever he —“

“Jake — Didn’t I just say I’m fine?” You turn to look at him. There was no convincing Jake you were fine since he knew

“Well you’re obviously not fucking fine — You wouldn’t be using that tone with me if you were” Jake said as you stood up and he stood up after you. You let out a very annoyed sigh and walked away, Jake being Jake followed behind you “please tell me what’s wrong I don’t like arguing with you. That’s my least favourite thing to do”

You shut the door and Jake wasn’t really paying attention so he continued walking and he ran face first into the door. All you hear is “ah fuck!” From the other side of the door, this made you start laughing a bit before opening the door and looking at Jake — Funny how your mood changed 🧍🏾‍♀️

Jake held his nose and looked at you “you meant that didn’t you?” He asked before walking to the bathroom to see his nose, it was bleeding but not that much

“Your dumbass didn’t pay attention, that’s kinda your fault but mine at the same time” you chuckled, Jake got some toilet paper and plugged his nose with it before washing his hands “will you tell me what’s wrong now without an attitude?”

You agreed and you eventually told him what was wrong on, you did get mad again because of what happened but Jake ended up calming you down without his nose getting half of that anger like last night 😀

(I just wanted to make this one funnier 😭😭)

😡 —————————————— 😡

Piers Nivans

Just like Jake he was able to tell when you were upset and about to explode at any second but he didn’t want almost all day before asking you. He was the type when he sensed something was off with you he’d automatically confront you. It was kinda scary on how fast he did this too

“Babe… is something bothering you? You’re not acting correct….” Piers asked as you stared at him. You shook your head and piers immediately knew it was bullshit, he grabbed you hand gently “you don’t have to hide this from me you know…”

You pull your hand away and stand up “Piers im fine. Please…” you tell him and he’s not falling for it. Piers is stubborn and won’t stop until he gets an answer. He grabbed your hand and you kinda snapped and pushed him away “Piers! I told you I’m fine. Stop” you told him. Not really raising your voice but it was stern. You didn’t think you pushed him hard but Piers also did get hurt in weird ways even though he was in the BSAA

“Babe….” He said, his voice sounded so hurt and he felt something drip from his nose and looked down to see it was blood. You felt so fucking bad you started crying “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to I got mad!” You pleaded as you backed away, Piers immediately hugged you because he knew he probably pushed it this time, using a free hand to cover his nose so he didn’t get blood on you

“Honey I’m sorry…. I pushed you too much I’m sorry. Also I get bloody noses a lot so this is nothing” Piers was lying about the bloody nose part, he didn’t want you to feel bad

You didn’t touch him for a week after that 🥺

#resident evil #resident evil 3 #resident evil 4 #resident evil 6 #resident evil biohazard #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy x reader #Leon Kennedy #carlos oliveira x reader #Carlos Oliveira #jake muller #Jake muller x reader #piers nivans #piers nivans x reader

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vogueinnie · 3 years

Text

HEAVEN OR HELL ; part. 1 TEASER - PART 1 - PART 2 - (...)

━ WARNINGS ; demon!hyunjin, virgin fem!reader

if you feel uncomfortable with the mentions of religion, please don’t read this story cause there are a lot blasphem, mentions of Lucifer and Mammon (Lucifer’s son)

sex in a public place with people around (!!!), boots riding and boot licking, corruption kink, fear kink, humiliation (and not only in a sexual way), mention of animals hunting, reader is leashed, pet name (angel), manipulation, devilish creatures

this story will contains a lot of filthy and dirty things, the warnings are here to prevent you from anything that can trigger you. so please consider them carefully.

━ WORD COUNT ; 2.5k ━ NOTE ; here is the first part of my first ever serie! feedback are so welcomed so feel free to tell me anything about this story.

Since the end of time there were two worlds. Heaven and Hell. Humans fought over which world they would belong to for the rest of their lives. The good was offered the place of angels while the worst was going to be demons.

Luckily, you’ve always been good during your lifetime. You weren’t surprised when the paradise’s gates were all open for you. As an angel, your face has the softest features, most beautiful hair, and even your aura was a pretty pale pink tone. The purest one.

The Ladybug Garden. Your favorite Heaven’s place. It was the most peaceful garden, a place where you walked in every morning. The sun was shining, as usual, the grass was a bright green and all the flowers were colorful. You jump happily in the air, your bare feet stroking the grass every time you touched the ground. You laugh softly, feeling dumb for a moment to play alone in the middle of all this flora. But you were happy, truly happy to be here. And knowing that you’ll be there forever was comforting enough to make you even more overexcited.

You heard a sound behind a tree so, curious, you approach slowly to finally see one of your angelic friends splaying with a cute white bunny.

“Felix ! I didn’t know you were here.” The boy called Felix turns around with a big smile to wave his hand at you. He was so beautiful, his eyes were beautiful shades of light brown, his lips were as pink as a rose, his hair white, and his beautiful skin was dotted with almost glittery freckled. You’ve met years ago here, and since then you were inseparable.

You barely have time to join him that Seungmin interrupted the both of you.

And let’s say, his coming is never for good reasons.

Seungmin doesn’t belong to either of the two worlds. He’s not an angel, nor a demon. He’s what we call the neutrals. Only here for the needs of both worlds. Heaven and Hell have only one rule in common ; If one of their residents is doomed, then they must be replaced by a person from the opposite world. It’s the only way to balance the loss. And that’s probably why Seungmin is here today, cause he never comes for pleasure.

“Hey, Seungmin… Is everything ok ?” Felix asked, a little bit concerned.

“Y/N you need to come with me.”

You look at him blankly, your lower lip starts to tremble a little, you exactly know what it means. You’re the angel chosen to go to Hell to offset the loss of a demon. How was it possible ? You’ve always been good to anyone. Everyone loved you. Everyone trusted you. You knew the rule, and you’d never dare to disrespect it, but you were so confused. Spending all this time in paradise, with all of your friends to finally end your life in the hands of a devilish creature.

And you know the only way to go back to Heaven was to soften a demon’s soul, but no one was able to do that until now. You were helpless, discouraged.

—————————————☠︎︎ —————————————

You were in front of the Hell’s gates. They were dark and gigantic. It was frightening, the chills ran unpleasantly through your body, even your mind was in an awful state. Along with Seungmin, you start to walk through the alley and the first thing that strikes you is the heat you can feel. It was so unpleasant that you felt suffocating with each step. Everything was so dim around you, the only lights were the burning flame on the side. The smells of it even made you want to throw up.

Faster than you would have thought, you ended up arriving in what you suppose to be the main room. It was… disturbing how every detail was beautiful. From the grey stone walls to the delicate stained glasses, passing by the big red carpet under your feet leading to the one who ran this world.

Everyone was looking at you. And they were a lot of… people. Some of them were scary enough for you to no look at them. Red eyes, pointy teeth, almost translucent skin, huge black feather wings… Are they the ones you are going to have to live with ?

Three thrones were in front of you, and in the center of it was your Father’s son, the fallen angel, Lucifer. He was sitting proudly on his, you have to admit, beautiful golden throne. His black crown was setting perfectly on his long silver hair and his dark eyes were all on you, looking at you insistently. As the protocol obliges you, you kneel down in front of him, he was the king after all. The King of his own world. You owe him nothing but respect. You can hear him laugh, clapping in his hands as his voice rises through the walls, creating a frightening echo.

“Angel, angel look at me. You did as told. Welcome to your new…paradise, all the creepy devilish creatures laugh at his pitiful joke but stop the moment he raises his hand in the air. I knew my dearest Father was hiding all of the most beautiful angels from me. But first ! Let me introduce yourself to my own creation, my blood, my pride, my son… Mammon.”

Without noticing it at first you perceive that a tall long black-haired boy was sitting on a throne on his left. You couldn’t take your eyes off him, it was surreal how he was beautiful. His pale and perfect skin was almost shinning in the dark, his almond-like eyes were as obscure as this place, his nose was straight leading to his plump crimson lips. His face was deadpan. He was dressed in a black suit, which is not surprising for a demon, he wore leather gloves on his hands and black chunky boots. Chains were all over his body like jewelry and you come out of your mind when he asks you to come near him with only two fingers.

Again, you did as told. Not only cause you were afraid, but cause you strangely wanted to.

It was like he was controlling your body with only his pierced gaze. You approach him slowly, feeling ridiculous in your long white dress decorated with colorful butterflies with all the hungry eyes looking at you behind your back. You kneel in front of him too, breathing slowly just to try to control your rising and inevitable anxiety. You feel his two leather-like fingers lifting up your chin and you gulp at the sight of his face so close to yours.

He was analyzing you, scanning every little specific of your pretty face, turning your head slowly from right to left to not miss any details.

“Sit down.” His voice was soft yet strict. You were confused, as long as you were already kneeling. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion and your expression must amuse him cause you can see a slight smile drawn on his lips. He points his boots with his chin, leaning his back on his thrown lazily. “Ride them.”

Your mind went blank. What was he asking you, specifically? You looked at him, scared and confused, not moving an inch cause you didn’t know what to do. And you didn’t want to make him angry. But the strange feeling in your stomach was pleasant and weird at the same time.

He grabs your hair, your face approaching dangerously to his knees. He whispers so only you can hear his humiliating word.

“Make yourself cum on my boots. If you don’t do it then I’ll give you as a meal to the raging dogs. You smell good, they’re gonna love your blood, angel.”

You almost forgot how demons love to live in sin. It was scary enough to make you submit. But the worst part was probably the fact that, while looking at him in his eyes, you wanted to sin to make him proud of you. You wanted to see the oh-so-little smile on his porcelain face again.

His eyes never left yours and with your shaking body you place your two legs on either side of one of his, sitting on one of his big black boots. The material was so cold against your naked inner thighs but the sensation was magnificent. You could see him smile as he keeps on tightening your hair around his gloved hand. But you wouldn’t complain, feeling his grip was probably the only thing that can make you still feel alive in this world of debauchery. The position you were in was so uncomfortable when you start to move against his leg but your eyes went big as your cheeks went red. What was that little thing burning inside your core ? Why was it even dripping ? You wanted more of this delicious friction.

Keeping eye contact with him was surprisingly reassuring for you. Slowly, you start to grind against his boot, but focusing on him became more and more difficult with the new sensations you were feeling. A little squirm escapes your mouth, chasing after your own pleasure as you bounce against his shoes to feel the more pleasure as possible. You didn’t know what makes you do that dirty thing, but you did. It was unbelievably pleasuring. Your mind went dizzy, everything around you starts to spin and you can even feel some sweat drops running in your neck.

You wanted his dark gaze to keep looking at you, and only you. You loved the way he pats your head, smiling fondly at your pathetic figure as the unknown knot in your stomach felt like a burning mishmash of nothing but pure pleasure.

“You’ve made a real mess, angel.”

You come down from your cloud when you hear his voice, and that’s the moment you realized what just happened. Your eyes flutter and you can feel your cheek heating your skin as you’re turning your head to be sure that you’ve just ridiculed yourself and you came to the conclusion that yes… You just did.

You return your attention to him and you big round glossy eyes made him smile. A real smile, that time. It was probably fun for him to know that someone from Heaven just did… That.

“You need to clean it, I really hate dirty things.”

You were about to grab the bottom of you dress but he clicks his tongue, making you wince. His thumb found your bottom lips and he strokes it slowly, making you open your mouth like an automatism. Again, he shows you what you have to do only with his gaze.

And you melt. You were totally aware of your actions. Not only you wanted to make him proud, but you also wanted to see his dilated pupils with nothing but that special star in it.

You bow your head at the level of the boot you dirtied and your tongue starts to lick the material, making you taste your own juice. It was like a little voice in your head was asking you to do all these dirty things. But no, let’s be honest, the only reason why you’ve done that is because of Mammon. It was scary enough for you to realize that you wanted it. You felt like you needed to do it.

“I want her.”

Everyone was looking at you hungrily, all the dark eyes were on your back, examining every move you made with a grin. Panicked, you get up suddenly but your shaking legs couldn’t support your body, making you fall on your knees, again, in front of Mammon.

They were mocking you, and that’s the only reason why you felt ashamed. Otherwise, you would have only felt guilty to not be ashamed.

You hadn’t spent an hour in Hell that you were already under the influence of the Fallen Angel’s son. That’s why this place was too dangerous for angels. You were too naive, kind, easily impressionable, and weak to live in a world made of nothing but manipulative creatures.

Lucifer laughs hysterically and all his others creatures did the same. The sound was horrific, scary, the one who wasn’t moving was this beautiful boy that just humiliated you for his own pleasure. He stands up slowly and you can see how tall he looks above you. He holds out his hand to a servant, a boy who seemed pretty young, who rushes to slip an object in it. You can feel a cold metal circling your delicate neck, and you understand that he wrapped a leash around your throat.

They applause loudly and your owner pulls on the leash so you try to stand up for the second time but he shakes his head with a grin.

“Hm, hm. Walk on four legs. The leash isn’t here for nothing.”

You open your mouth but the back of his hand stroke your cheek, again, in the softest way ever. The unpleasant leather material contrasts with the sweetness of his gesture. And you decide to follow him without saying a word.

Under the waves of laughter of the demonic audience, you both leave the room. The younger boy was following you as little whimpers were escaping your mouth due to the pain you were feeling. Your knees were crawling on the ground as Mammon leads you to what you supposed to be his room.

Once you were in it you took your time to observe the room. Unsurprisingly, it was obscure. The walls were painted black, the furnitures were black, the sheets were black. Even the big beautiful chandelier was black, but yet so luminous that it makes everything harmonious. You can even see a black porcelain bathtub in the corner of the room, facing up a huge mirror.

You stay still on the ground but you can see the black-haired boy sitting on his mattress, in front of you. The other boy is still behind you, as if he was watching you so you can’t run away.

“So, what brings you here, angel ?” The demon whispers, his magnetic voice enveloping your spine with countless chills.

“I… I didn’t do anything wrong ! I haven’t been banned from the Heavens ! I… You sigh, looking down while tears could easily be spotted in the corner of your eyes. I was chosen for, you know… The balance of both worlds, Sir.”

You can hear his hums, crossing his legs in the most elegant way. An almost invisible smile was on his lips, again.

“You know you won’t be able to go back to your beloved place, don’t you ? Unless you make me fall for you which is… His laugh was loud enough to dissuade you, well… Impossible.”

The way his voice was suddenly cold scared you. Maybe that stupid rule was only here to allow the angels to keep hope. Even tho everyone knows it was already hopeless for them.

“What’s your name ?” His voice had become soft again and he starts to take off his leather gloves so you can see his beautiful long fingers. His nails were painted in black and he wears no less than ten rings.

“I’m… I’m Y/N, Sir.” You can see him nod, rubbing his hands slowly between them.

“You can call me Hyunjin when it’s only the two of us. Now that you’re mine you know that we have to be intimate, am I wrong ?”

You didn’t know what it really means but you nod. Of course, you’ve heard that in Hell, creatures love to do weird and, well… evil things. They were as wild as the animals. And of course, you couldn’t forget about that rumor that said that they hunt animals for their own pleasure. Or that other rumor saying that sex is an integral part of their lives. You shake your head just thinking about that and that’s when you realize that Hyunjin was standing in front of you with the creepiest smile.

“You’ll be there with me. For the eternity, angel.”

Despite the fact that the whole situation was surreal for you, the fact that Mammon, or Hyunjin, was being what is akin to kindness to you seem… Utterly wrong. Why was he even nice ? And why were his eyes abnormally and horrifically black suddenly ?

—————————————☠︎︎ —————————————

━ TAGLIST ; @sailorhyunjinz - @minholuvs - @that-anxious-bisexual - @ohmysparkle - @yuminsung - @minaamhh - @kittykatvenom - @bubblelixie - @imagineinnie - @ronnieissupermegafoxyawesomehot - @etherealeeknow - @linours - @starry-jinnie @p0t4t0don14ll - @straytannies - @binnie-m00n - @formidxble - @skzcvre - @titleisyettobemade - @bythesunnotbythemoon - @nada-disso - @characha - @lizsvcks - @pxnidxjks - @ninjaleeknow - @solistired - @keloiu - @bluesensitivesoul - @pixieskz (if you want to be added to the taglist feel free to send me an ask!)

#skz smut #stray kids smut #hyunjin smut #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #hyunjin x reader #heaven or hell ; the serie

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sparklingchan · 3 years

Text

Ruby Eyes|| Seo Changbin (Stray Kids)

Pairing : Reader(fem.) X Changbin

Word count : 7.3k+

Warnings : Mention of an accident, cuss words, divorce, a single kiss.

Genre : Romance, Soulmate AU, fluff, angst, best friends to lovers.

Description: Seo Changbin has done everything in his capacity to remove and replace you, yet fate seems to have different plans for the both of you.

A/N : Hello everyone ahhh I know it’s been so long y’all. So many things have been going on including exams and internships and I just didn’t have the patience to write :(( This one shot was written as a part of a collab event by wonderful, dear Ro!

I hope y’all like it!

"So, how's it being back, y/n?"

Your dad looks older now than he did the last time you saw him - probably two years ago, when you were leaving the country.

You missed him, really. You missed his warmth and his wisdom and how he was a sharp contrast to your mother, more calm and composed. Sometimes you wonder how your mother had even managed to get your custody after their divorce.

"Okay, I guess." You lie.

You didn't want your father to know how your feelings are all over the place, ranging from sadness to anger and longingness.

It's a weird thing to be experiencing such a cocktail of emotions when you'd convinced yourself these feelings had disappeared the day you left the old neighborhood, seven years ago. You had not felt any attachment towards the new neighborhood that you and your mother then went on to live for the next two years before you moved abroad for your studies. Yet you feel nostalgic now, as your father drives you through your old old neighborhood.

"How's mom?" He asks, taking a left to a road all too familiar to you, "Is she still going to therapy?"

You nod, "She's getting better, I think. The new country seems to have changed her. The therapy is helping too. She has many friends there now. "

At first when you were offered a job at one of the biggest publishing companies in the world, you were ecstatic. But everything soon died down when you found out you were posted at a branch in the country you'd left behind. It was your mother who'd convinced you to take it.

"I know you don't like being back, y/n." Your dad smiles sadly when he pulls over infront of your old house.The house that contains years of secrets, tears, lies and whispered confessions in front of the mirror stands in front of you, as grand and pretty as ever. It looks different but similar enough to make you tear up a tad bit.

"But I'm glad you're here. I really am." He says, "I renovated the house a little when you told me you were moving back. I hope it's okay."

You smile at the old man, wrapping your arms around him, "Thanks, dad. I missed you. I'm glad you're here, too."

He pecks your forehead, "I missed you, too, love."

Moving in doesn't take a lot of time since your dad had already set up everything. You just had to get some of your stuff and you were ready to kick start your stay.

That evening, your father leaves after making you promise to call him if anything happens at all and when the front door closes, you find yourself in the company of your old room.

You lie on your bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling as you hum an old tune to yourself. And without meaning to, you find yourself thinking about him; The man you hadn't seen or talked to for a whole seven years. The man who'd tried his best to stay in touch with you yet gave up when you didn't reciprocate the same.

A horrific realization then dawns on you,

He'd obviously replaced you now.

The familiar clouds of grief loom over you, threatening to engulf you any moment now.

No. Not now, please.

Getting up from your bed immediately, you shake your head as you make your way to the mirror- the mirror that had encountered more honest tears and smiles and words than any human ever had. You stare at your reflection as tears escapes your eyes, the bright red iris of your right eye staring back at you when you rub your tears off.

You shiver.

"Shit, I forgot to wear the contacts."

Quickly grabbing your lenses from your bag, you put them on, concealing the scary blood red color of your right eye. You take two long strides across the room and pulling your favorite black hoodie over your head, you walk out of the door.

By the time you manage to leave the house, it's already 10:30 in the evening. A quiet calmness has fallen over the town, as the shops and restaurants near the market square slowly start closing up. Your feet are as if on autopilot, taking you to that one place you know would still be open; Yang's Café.

And rightly so, the smell of freshly brewed coffee reaches your nostrils when you walk through their main door, past the group of chatty teenagers waiting outside. This place hasn't changed much, you realize, the brown and golden hues of the place and the vintage coffee cups collection in the far corner of the Cafe are still the same. The only difference is that you're no longer here with your best friend right after school, you are here all alone on an evening too quiet for your liking.

"Y/n? Is that you?"

When you turn around to face the owner of the voice, you are stunned.

"Jeongin?"

Jeongin's family has owned this Cafe for three generations now, from his great-grandparents, his grandparents, his parents and soon enough it'll pass down to him. As a kid, you remember often playing with Jeongin at the park and teaming up with him during quiz competition. He was always sweet and always smiley.

But the handsome young man that stands in front of you doesn't resemble the Jeongin you once used to know, not even a little bit.

"What..what happened to you!" You exclaim, taking his face in your hands, "Where are the braces! And the specs and wow, would you look at the blue hair!"

Jeongin can only let out a few giggles as you continue squishing his face and complaining how big he's grown in only over seven years.

The customers give you weird stares but only the heavens above know how genuinely happy you are to see Jeongin, albeit the fact you almost couldn't recognize him there for a second.

"What have you done to my child?" You mutter when you've finally calmed down and Jeongin takes you to your seat.

"I have a mother, y/n, thank you very much," he laughs, taking a seat opposite to yours, loosening the Barista apron around his torso, "And I missed you too."

You attempt to pinch his cheeks but he is quick to dodge.

"So how have you been?" He asks through giggly breaths.

You sigh, "I'm good... I feel weird being back here, honestly but I think I'll get used to it soon. What about you?"

"I've been good. Graduated a few months back, now I'm working here full time." He ushers over a waiter, "What would you like, y/n?"

You don't even think for a second while responding, "An iced Americano, please."

The waiter notes your order and walks away before Jeongin pinches your arm teasingly.

"Ouch. What?"

"Old habits die hard, huh? You always used to drink an iced coffee whenever we hung out here. I am glad to see nothing much has changed," Jeongin laughs, "You and Changbin, too!"

That one name sends your entire mind into a frenzy. Changbin. Seo Changbin. The love of your life. The man who you wouldn't even go to school without, the man who had saved you from a terrible accident, also the man who probably no longer even remembers you.

And you realise, despite everything, your heart yearns for him, still- for you wouldn't be in so much pain at the mention of his name otherwise.

Jeongin seems to have noticed your discomfort because he immediately changes the topic, "Anyway, you have to try our new chocolate cake. It's heavenly, I'm telling you."

Your reason to leave the neighborhood wasn't a secret, really. It was public knowledge that your mother had blamed Changbin for the fatal accident you almost had.

You're grateful for what Jeongin does, and try your best to engage in conversations about the neighborhood and old gossip you'd missed out on. Yet all you want to do is drive out of the damn Cafe and find changbin.

"Y/n?"

Or maybe, Changbin will find you.

Behind Jeongin, you see the blurry image of a man that had once caused you great misery yet you had never felt as happy as when you were with him.

"Hi..hi, Changbin." You stammer as you see the said man walk towards your table.

The seven years have as if done some magic on him, because the Changbin that walks towards you in no way resembles your high school best friend.

With thick buff arms, new ear piercings and silver jewelry gracing his wrists and fingers, you have a hard time actually accepting the fact that Seo Changbin is really there, in front of you.

"Been long, huh?" He grins, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes and somewhere in the depths of your conscience, you realize it might have been your fault. You'd done everything in your capacity to break apart from this friendship, ignoring his calls, changing your number, even going as far as blocking him on all social media.

So, did you really expect him to welcome you back with open arms when you had caused him so much pain?

Jeongin brings an extra chair for Changbin to sit on and soon, the three of you are talking, maybe not like the old, happy days but it's still better than nothing. Changbin looks at you everytime you throw your head back and laugh, your eyes squeezing shut as his heart clenches in his chest.

You are really back home.

"So what have you been doing? I told you guys about me." Jeongin says, stealing a bite off of Changbin's cheesecake.

"Oh..you know," Changbin giggles, the tip of his ears turning a light pink shade.

You raise your eye brows in confusion.

"Been busy with the wedding and all."

Your heart drops. "Wedding? W-whose wedding?" You try to laugh it off but it's very evident from the way you're gripping your glass of iced Americano that it has affected you. A lot more than you actually thought.

"I'm getting married, y/n," Changbin smiles, "I'm so glad you could be around for the wedding."

Your grief stricken self has not gotten up from the bed since last night and you're thankful to Jeongin for finally checking up on you or else you would have gone deeper into the spiral hole of despair.

"Are you really going to be like this, y/n?"

You hate being miserable on the very second day of your stay. You hate depending on Jeongin. But you can barely move without bursting out into tears,so it seems as though there's no better idea than have someone take care of you at the moment.

"I'm sorry, Jeongin. " You manage to speak when he places a bag full of snacks and drinks on the dining table, "And thanks."

Jeongin chuckles, "Don't thank me, just yet. Guess who wants to meet up with you?"

Your eyes widen for a split second as you sit up on the couch, "Who?!"

No, he wouldn't, would he?

"It's not the person you think, y/n. Calm down." He laughs, "It's Bang Chan. Your senior, you remember?"

Oh, yes, the infamous Bang Chan. Shy smiles, dimples, curly hair, angelic eyes. Yeah, you remember the school's heartthrob. Very clearly.

"I was talking to him this morning and he said he'd be very glad to catch up with you again." Jeongin settles beside you, "It's not a date, y/n. He's an old friend. It wouldn't hurt, would it? You can't possibly sit here all day long crying about him."

You open your mouth to argue, but only air slips out and you realise you don't have anything to defend your miserable state with. You knew this was coming; when you cut off all ties with Seo Changbin, you knew this was coming.

Jeongin is right; you need to go out and meet new people.

You roll your eyes before pinching Jeongin's cheeks, "Fine. Give him my number."

He responds by pulling your cheeks as well.

The first day of work is weirdly gut wrenching.

You hadn't expected yourself to be this nervous but here you are, muttering under your breath as you make way towards the office.

"You'll be okay, y/n," you breathe in, "You've worked hard for this." And breathe out.

A few more minutes of self pep talking and you see all your hard work and expectations go down the drain as you feel a few droplets of rain fall onto your head. You look up and the dark, heavy clouds greet you.

Bloody brilliant.

You see the office goers around you jog quickly to the nearest shelter but you're short on luck today as your gaze falls on your watch and you realize you don't have enough time to wait for the rain to pass.

So you grab your office bag, cover your head with that and make a run for it.

The sole of your high heel shoes dig into your feet and a throbbing pain shoots through your body, as you wince. Note to yourself - never wear heels to office again.

You also secretly pray to the gods that your contact lens don't get washed off. Turning up at your new office on the first day with a blood red iris doesn't feel too fun, really.

"Do you need a lift?"

You had been so busy running to your office that you don't notice when a black car drives toward you and the driver rolls down the window, offering you a smile.

Seo Changbin.

Your heart skips a few beats.

"Y/n, do you need a lift?"

You blink back to reality when he clicks his fingers in front of you, "I-I mean if that's okay with you."

Changbin smiles, pointing to the passenger's seat, "Come on in."

When you're comfortably seated in his car, using his spare towel to wipe off the water from your face and hair, his questions start-

"So.." He steps on the break when the traffic light turns red, "How have you been?"

You look at the digital clock displayed on the cars' LED, and sigh. You're late to work and you're stuck in traffic with the one man you'd rather not be stuck in traffic with. Brilliant.

"Good." Your eyes are focused on the cars outside the window, "You?"

There's a moment of silence before he speaks again, "Fine."

Fine? Just Fine? Shouldn't he be over the clouds, now that the wedding is finally around the corner?

"Okay.."

"Actually, I meant to ask you earlier, y/n." He turns to you, a gentle smile playing at his lips, "I am throwing a party this weekend. I'd love it if you could come by. And I could introduce you to her."

You sink back into your seat, biting your lip, wondering if you want to ever know who her is. Your peace of mind is more important than meeting your ex crush's fiance, right? And if you do end up going to the party, whom would you hang out with? It's not like you know any of his rich friends and cousins and there's no way you'd hang out with Changbin and the said fiance.

You are about to respectfully reject the invitation when a sudden, seemingly good idea pops into your head.

Bang Chan.

You nod, shrugging, "Okay. I'll be there."

You clasp your hands together as he continues driving and you look out the window, unable to suppress the bubbling excitement.

"Great, then." He replies, suspiciously.

The evening of the party finally arrives, much to your dismay, you find yourself seated next to Chan. He's just the same as the guy in your memory; a gentleman.

"You look pretty, y/n." He had greeted you as he held the car door open for you, "I'm glad we could meet up."

His words turn your cheeks into a darker shade of red but your heart doesn't beat quite as furiously as you'd expect it to.

Muttering a small thank you, you seat comfortably in the car while Chan drives towards Changbin's family's old Farmhouse on the outskirts of the city. You've been there before - during summer holidays, he would take you there with his family. That place was only filled with happy memories of sunshine, swimming pools, watermelon juice and bonfires.

You swallow the grief that comes along with these memories.

"Are we here already?" Chan pulls over in a familiar driveway not even ten minutes later, jogging up to your door and clicking it open, like the gentleman he is.

"Yeah, we're here." Chan smiles, "Very less traffic tonight."

You guys walk through the huge metallic gate, making your way through the main door of the house.

"Uh..." People are crowded mostly around the front door and in the front yard, so you and Chan have to push and squeeze your way into the Farmhouse. You hate the feeling of sweaty bodies pressing against you (or holding Chan's hand for stability) but desperate situations call for desperate measures.

"I hate it here." You mutter when you later find yourself by the pool side, swirling the drink that you don't even plan on drinking and looking at all the flushed faces having the time of their lives.

Thankfully, Chan happens to be on the same boat as you.

"I'm sorry I dragged you here, Chan. We could have just gone for a movie."

Chan giggles, "Hey, it's alright. I don't mind, I'm glad I could spend some time with you after so many years."

His eyes shine and dimples deepen.

You whisper, "Yeah, me too."

Chan is a handsome man, good at all kinds of sport, good at arts, very smart and intelligent yet there's a part of you that knows you'd never be able to reciprocate his flirtatious words. It's sad, really, but that's just how life is.

"Wow, those two seem to be having the time of their lives." Chan chuckles, pointing at someone behind you.

It's quite dark outside, the only source of light being a few decorative fairylights hung at random places haphazardly.

Hiding behind a huge, tall bush, you see a couple, kissing each other like it were the last day on the planet.

The guy's hands roam all over the woman's body and the woman is so loud that even you could hear her sighs and moans. When she pulls away to catch her breath for a second, Chan asks you, "You know her?"

"Nope. I don't know either of them."

You look away; what kind of creep looks at a happy couple like that? (Not a creep, just a lonely and touch starved person)

"Should we check out the dinner table?" Chan suggests and you agree with a nod, "I hope there's no crowd there."

As expected, there actually isn't a crowd there - there's only Changbin, sitting and nibbling on a pizza slice while scrolling through the phone.

The moment your eyes land on him, your feet as if stop on their own and your heart bangs furiously against your chest.

He's breathtakingly gorgeous.

By the time you debate in your head whether or not you want to sit there and fill your stomach, Chan has already made his way to Changbin.

"Hey, Bin!" He greets him with a smile.

Changbin looks at Chan with an unamused smile, the same one from your high school days, when these two were named the biggest rivals on campus. You wonder if somewhere deep in his heart, Changbin had still not let go of that rivalry.

"Hey, Changbin." You manage to whisper before sitting beside Chan.

He looks almost angry.

"You should have the pizza. It's good." He mutters, turning to pass you a slice of pizza on a plate, "Help yourself, Chan."

Yup, there it is. The Seo Changbin that would kill to be on top. You feel worse about dragging Chan here now when neither of you were having a good time.

"Thanks, mate. " Chan replies.

Your ears ring with the sound of approaching footsteps, and when a pretty girl comes walking in and takes Changbin in her arms, your heart stings. Like a fresh wound.

"Y/n.." Chan whispers to you as you watch the two collide in a loving embrace, Changbin smiling at her and running his fingers through her hair.

Your heart hurts at how happy and content he looks.

You could have had that, a part of you thinks, if you weren't such a coward, it would have been you instead of her.

"Y/n," Chan calls you again.

"What?" Your tone is harsher than you intended, "What happened?"

You think Chan is about to give you the whole it-is-time-to-move-on talk but he doesn't, instead he points at the girl and whispers,

"It's her. The girl we saw earlier."

The rest of the night is blurry to you, all conversations, all gazes, all thoughts just feel ....like an awkward dream.

"We have to tell Changbin."

You're sitting at Yang's Cafe at 1 am the same night, watching Jeongin's brother guide his staff to clean the place up.

"I agree." Chan says, biting the inside of his cheeks.

While you, on the other hand, are completely zoned out, staring at the glass of water placed in front of you and watching the droplets on its surface race each other.

"Y/n, what do you think?" Jeongin asks when you don't take part in their discussions.

You sigh, "I don't know. I really don't. As much as it troubles me that Changbin is being cheated on, I don't want to get involved in their personal relationship. "

"Let's not tell anyone for now, then. But someday in the future, before that goddamn wedding, we have to tell him. He deserves to know." Chan agrees.

You purse your lips and close your eyes.

Chan is right.

Changbin deserves to know the truth.

"So, how's it being back in town, y/n?"

"It feels good. Weird, but good." You smile at your old teacher, "How have you been, Miss Oh?"

Your teacher adds sugar to the cup of tea in her hands and then looks at you, smiling - the same old smile, except with more wrinkles now, "I've been good. I'm retiring next year so I'm glad I could see you before that, huh?"

You nod your head, "I'm glad too. The school hasn't changed much, unlike what I had expected."

Other than the addition of some new labs and libraries, and the change in color of the walls, everything was still the same. No place in this old school building feels foreign to you.

"Ugh, these administration people I tell you, y/n, they're cheap idiots. They won't spend a single penny on infrastructure unless it's absolutely necessary." She complains as you giggle in response,

"They've always been like that."

Miss Oh gulps some tea from her cup, "Anyway, y/n, I have a class now. I would have loved to stay and chat, really, but I'm afraid that might get me in to trouble."

"No issues, Miss Oh. Go ahead. I'll just roam around the school a little more though, if that's okay."

After Miss Oh leaves, you step out of her cabin and walk the familiar corridors, reminiscent of the memories you have here. Studying a few minutes before tests, bunking classes, running to class when you're late, hanging out with your friends- these corridors have seen you grow in love, in friendship, in life. There's absolutely nothing that could ever replace these memories.

Mindlessly, you wander around the third floor, walking toward the end of the corridor before stopping in front of an old door, way too familiar to not try and push open.

While a part of you tells you it might not be a good idea to go into that room again, there's also a part of you that thinks it's a bloody brilliant idea.

Pushing the door open, you walk into the old dusty room, sighing in relief when you see a particular set of letters still carved on the wall.

CB and YN were here.

You finally let your tears run free, as you crouch down to touch the letters.

Your heart aches at how much you miss Changbin being an important part of your life and how much you miss being his top priority. And your heart aches for Changbin, who is so in love with his fiancé and has no idea he's being cheated on.

You almost want to leave this town and go back to your mother, away from this terrible mess. Yet you don't find it in yourself to act on those thoughts.

Maybe, it is your fear of abandoning him once again that stops you. Or, maybe it is simply the unconditional love you harbor for him.

* Surprisingly, Yang's Cafe is near empty that afternoon.

"Did something happen, y/n? You look really worried." Changbin has his arms crossed over his chest, looking at you with a tense frown.

"Um..it's kind of complicated." You sigh. For a second, you see the genuine concern and innocence on his face, and you wonder if it is worth telling him the truth at all because it would kill you to see him lose his smile but then, his engagement band shines on his ring finger and your stomach turns unpleasantly.

He has to know. From you. In person.

"Changbin, that day at your party...I saw something. " You whisper, "Something I shouldn't have. I should have turned a blind eye really but I can't. My conscience won't allow it. I'm sorry, Bin."

"Y/n, it's okay, just tell me," he reaches over and wraps his fingers around yours, soft and gentle, "You're scaring me."

"Changbin, your fiance is cheating on you. I-I saw her kissing another man that night. Chan saw it too." You feel sick even having to say this to him, "I think you should confront her."

He sucks in a deep breathe, his face completely void of any emotions as he extracts his hands from yours.

"I know." Is all he says.

His eyes drill into yours, as if accusing you of a crime. He looks angry. Just how he looked the day you brought Chan to his party.

"Why are you still marrying her then?" You question.

He sits up straight, "Y/n, I wish I could explain. But I can't. I'm sorry. And please, stay out of this, okay?"

"Why? Why should I stay out of it?" Your voice threatens to break, "I cannot watch my best friend marry a woman who's not loyal. You deserve better than this, Bin."

A sarcastic chuckle leaves Changbin's lips as he taps his foot against the floor, "Let me correct you, y/n. You were my best friend. Seven years ago. You're not anymore."

Your heart shatters.

A part of you knows you deserve this after ghosting him for seven long years. You were the center of each other's world at one point of time.How could you have been so selfish to ever think that your absence and lack of communication wouldn't hurt him?

"Changbin, I'm sorry for everything I did okay. B-but I never stopped thinking or worrying about you. Even for one second. And I still do."

Changbin pushes his chair back and stands up while you stay frozen in your seat.

"It doesn't seem like that though. "

"What do you even mean!"

"Chan. I mean Chan, y/n." He grabs his phone and purse, "Goodbye, y/n. I hope Chan turns out to be a better friend than I ever did." With that, the love of your life walks out of Yang's Cafe.

And for once, he doesn't even look back.

* "Y/n, don't let go of my hand!"

Changbin is panting heavily, his voice shaking with fear as he desperately tries to hold onto you.

He should have known it would be a bad idea to play badminton near the infamous cliff in your town yet when you had showed him your innocent smile and pleading eyes that day, he just couldn't say no.

Your sweaty hands clutch his, legs dangling over the edge of the cliff. Your free hand grabs the rough surface of the rocky cliff to keep yourself from falling.

You want to cry; but you're too traumatized to even let out more than a few terrified grunts. "Y/n," he yells, "I'm going to try and pull you up one more time, okay?."

You don't even remember how you had ended up in this situation; one second you were happily giggling, playing badminton with Changbin and in the next second, you found yourself hanging by the cliff, praying for your dear life.

With all the energy he has left, he tries to pull you up onto the surface.

"Y/n, you have to free the other hand. Let go of that rock." He pants.

You shake your head vigorously, you know you would not survive if you let go of the rock, you'd fall thousands of feet below into absolute nothingness.

"Y/n, please listen to me." Changbin pleads, now crying, "Please. I'll catch you, I promise. I'll not let you die. Just..please."

Changbin sounds like he's about to give up and in all honesty, you couldn't blame him really. Everytime your eyes fall on what's beneath you, a part of you loses hope.

"Please, come on, y/n," he's still pulling at your free hand, while his right hand awaits desperately to grab the other hand. A mixture or sweat and tears grace his face, making him shine under the bright afternoon sun. Your heart aches at the mere thought of never seeing him again- your friend, your childhood crush, your partner in everything.

Well, here goes nothing then.

You suck in a deep breath and let go the Rock, immediately reaching for Changbin. He is quick to grab both of your arms and in one swift movement, he pulls you up onto the surface.

You fall onto his chest, "Y-you saved me."

Changbin let's out a sob mixed with a relieved giggle, pulling you into his arms.

Your eyes feel heavy, as darkness slowly begins to engulf your vision.

"Oh God, I am so sorry this happened, y/n. It's all my fault." He cries, rubbing your back softly, "I'm so sorry. I thought I was going to lose you, oh God. Fuck!"

You want to tell him that it was never his fault, and that you wouldn't even be alive if not for him but your body betrays you and your body goes limp against his.

"I'm not leaving this neighborhood."

Your hands rest angrily on your waist as your mom frantically walks from your closet to where the suitcase is spread open on your bed, shifting all your clothes. She dumps them inside the suitcase, not bothering to fold them even.

"You will do as I say! That Seo Changbin tried to push you off of a cliff and heaven knows what he might do next!" Your mom yells back.

You sit at the edge of your bed, trying to keep yourself calm, "Mom, I told you it was an accident. I fell because I was going after the shuttlecock and didn't notice the cliff. Moreover, why would my best friend want try to kill me!"

Your mom let's out a sarcastic laugh, closing the suitcase roughly. She looks at you with eyes full of contempt and a part of you knows that there's no point in trying to convince her. Her mind is already made. Yet you refuse to go down without a fight.

"You're just sixteen, sweetie. You don't know anything about the cruel world, " your mother sighs, "Rich people are not friends with anyone. Changbin may be nice to you but he only sees you as a pathetic poor girl."

"Mom, we're not even poor!"

"Yes, I know. But those filthy rich businessmen consider everyone below their economic status poor. His family probably doesn't like him being friends with you which is why they asked him to get rid of you."

You think of Mrs. Seo's face in your head, always smiling and always welcoming. You remember Changbin's sister and how she'd promised to let you borrow her dress for this year's winter prom. And you think about Changbin- his face, his smile, his passion for music and his protectiveness towards you. Why would these people ever want to hurt you?

"Mom, you're being ridiculous right now! Do you even hear yourself!" You stand up from the bed, now beyond frustrated.

She walks upto you and grabs your arm tightly, nails digging into your skin as you whimper slightly. "You will listen to me. I am your mother and you will listen to me. " she growls, "Pack the rest of your stuff. We're leaving tomorrow."

When she finally walks out your bedroom, your first instinct is to dress yourself in your black hoodie and track pants, and quietly slip out of the back window of your room.

The cold air nips at your skin, goosebumps slowly appearing on your arms and legs but you're too preoccupied to pay too much heed to it.

You reach Changbin's house and like always, walk up to the backyard and climb upto his room through the emergency staircase.

When Changbin hears knocks on his window, he quickly removes his headphones, "y/n?"

He walks upto the window and let's you in, his heart more at peace now than it's ever been the entire day. The guilt from the accident you had earlier was clawing at his conscience.

His room is mostly dark except for his table lamp. You notice the lyrics notebook lying on the table, open with some scribbles and random phrases on the pages.

"How are you feeling?"

You sit at the edge of his bed, cross legged while he kneels on the floor to get to your level. His hands find yours naturally.

"Fine," you swallow the tears that have been accumulating since you left the house, "Changbin, I- we're leaving tomorrow."

Changbin is taken aback; his heart shattering into billions of pieces at your words.

"Leaving? What do you mean Leaving?" his voice trembles.

You lick your dry lips and tell him everything your mom had told you earlier. When his face twists bitterly, a part of you wishes you'd held your tongue yet a bigger part of you wants Changbin to know the truth now; you didn't want him sending you off with lies in his mind and the fear of him finding out some years later just killed you inside.

"I'm so sorry, Changbin. Mom's just not been okay after the divorce." Your voice breaks when Changbin refuses to look at you, "I know she's speaking bullshit. But there's absolutely nothing I can do to change her mind, I've tried I swear. I'm sorry, Changbin."

When Changbin finally does look at you, even in the dim lit room, you see the tears glistening on his face, mirroring the ones that roll down your cheeks. "Why are you sorry, y/n? I don't blame your mom." He mutters, "It was partly my fault. I should have taken more care, I-"

You cup his cheek, "Shh. Bin, are we really going to spend my last night here crying and blaming ourselves? We might never see each other again."

The words sink deep into his soul, and he nods. He wills his tears back in as he grabs your hand tighter.

"Okay. What do you wanna do?"

You smile a little, "You're not gonna like it though. "

"Stargazing it is then." He giggles a little as the both of you make your way to balcony attached to his room.

It is quiet outside, unlike the noise in your head and you feel the calmness spreading to you when you look up at the stars.

Changbin brings a picnic mat from inside and spreads it out on the floor, along with two pillows and a blanket.

"We'll stay in touch, yeah? If you ever need anything, I'll be right here." He reassures you, lying beside you, hands behind his head.

You smile yet you cannot bring yourself to promise him the same because you know your mother would do everything in her power to push the two of you apart, even to the point of physically hurting Changbin. You would never want that so you'd rather distance yourself and let Changbin forget about you. And maybe, just maybe fate would be a little nicer to you and decide to bring you into his life again. Many years later.

He presses a soft kiss to your head, "You'll always be my best friend, y/n. I don't care how far we are."

It takes everything in your being to not repeat the words.

"Changbin, come on we're getting you to the hospital this instant, okay?" Mrs. Seo is furious next morning, running from room to room, looking through the list of doctors she'd saved just in case of emergency.

When she looks at her son, sitting on the sofa with one of his eye irises turning a glowing red, she is reassured that this is an emergency.

"How did this even happen, mom? I swear I didn't try to do anything funny with my eye." He murmurs, scared, "It feels so itchy, gosh!"

Mrs.Seo looks at him with concern just when the doctor picks the call, "Oh, hello Dr.Lee! Thank god you picked up!"

After his mom walks out of his room, Changbin quickly types you a text,

Binnie: Hey. Did you leave already?

Y/nnie: No not yet. We've stopped at the doctor's.

Changbin's eyes widen in alarm.

Binnie: What why?

You look at your face in the decorative mirror at the doctor's waiting room, one of your irises burning into a bright shade of ruby.

Y/nnie: Mom's running a cold.

You close the messenger app before he even replies, deciding to change your number and deleting all your old contacts as soon as you move into your new house. And as much as it hurt you, this one text turned out to be the last time Changbin and you ever talked.

It has been raining all day, which means you were stuck in your goddamn house with nothing to do but cry about Changbin and your lost friendship and your broken heart.

After you manage to get some food into your body during dinner time, you crawl back to your room and look into the mirror as you comb your hair and moisturize your skin.

(Self care is important, y'all)

Your red iris stares back at you, taunting your mistakes and calling you a coward.

If only you had still tried to keep in touch with him, if only that stupid accident wouldn't have happened in the first place, if only.

Suddenly, a knock on your balcony door makes you jump in your place.

Shit. Is it a burglar?

You grab the closest thing that could be classified as a weapon - which happens to be an umbrella.

The knocking continues.

"Y/n, it's Changbin." He yells, "Can I please talk to you?"

You freeze in your spot.

Why in the world is he here? Does he have anything worse to say? Is he here to invite you to his wedding? But why would he sneak in through the balcony when he can easily ring the main door bell.

"Y/n, are you in there?"

You quickly walk upto the door and slide it open, revealing Changbin, completely drenched in the rain. His wet hair stuck to his face and "Shit. What the- God, come inside!"

He obeys and tiptoes inside your room, a guilty expression plastered on his face.

You guide him directly to the bathroom and offer him a towel.

"What are you even doing here, Bin?" You lean against the door frame, hands crossed over your chest.

He is drying his hair with the towel when he looks up at you as if to answer your question but he stops. His mouth hangs open as his eyes remain glued to your face.

And that's when you realize why he looks so surprised.

"Shit- fuck." You turn around immediately, "my lenses," you mutter to yourself.

But before you can even walk upto your dressing table, Changbin has caught your wrist and spun you around, pulling you closer to his body.

"Your eye." He let's out a shaky breath.

"Yes, I know. Please don't freak out. It's always been like this after -"

"After the accident." He finishes your sentence, "I know."

Your mouth runs dry as his face draws in closer, "What do you mean you know? What do you know?"

He let's go of your wrist and takes a step back, turning around so that his back faces you.

And when he turns to look at you again, you swear you could have passed out there and then.

"Y-you have it too." You whisper, weak in the knees, "You have a red iris too."

Changbin gives you a small smile, "Yes, y/n."

"But why? What does this mean?" You say, "Is it a symptom of some chronic illness?"

"It's a soul mark."

"What's a soul mark?"

"It's a mark that exists on the bodies of soulmates."

You feel a pang in your chest; like someone was squeezing your heart out of your chest.

"Right," You fall back onto the bed, dazed with the sudden piece of information, "And how do you know all this?"

Changbin kneels down in front of you, hands finding yours. He looks more relaxed than he did since the first day you come back to town.

It almost feels like you had been given back your old friend.

"I've been doing my research, y/n. After you left, this is all I've been doing." He says, "This is also the reason why I had gotten engaged. By that time, I had given up on finding a soulmate. So I just settled for whatever I got. I didn't even feel bad when I found out my fiance was not in love with me. For the world, we might look like a happy couple, but truly, it was just a marriage of convenience for our parents' business."

You bite your lips wondering how to respond to these words. He'd laid bare his heart in front of you, something you never thought he'd do ever again.

"What now?" You say, tired.

He intertwines your fingers, "Also, I'm sorry for yesterday. I shouldn't have said all that."

You nod, "It's alright. I know you didn't mean it. And for the record, I and Chan have nothing going on."

"And for the record, I also broke off my engagement."

Your eyes widen as a gasp leaves your lips, "What? Why?"

"Because when I told my parents that I do not love my fiancé, and that I have only ever loved you, they said my happiness was more important than their business."

When you don't reply to his words, he looks worried, "Hey, you don't have to feel burdened to like me back and all okay? Literally, if you want me to leave you alone, I will. I understand-"

You pull him by the nape and place the softest, gentlest, most sincere kiss on his lips.

"I feel the same way, dumbass." You sigh as you pull him into your arms.

He muzzles his face in the crook of your neck, playing with your hair from behind, "So what now?"

"Let's start with a date." You say, "Let's take it slow."

Changbin wraps his arms tighter around you, kissing your cheek, "As you wish, my love. "

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