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0risha · 3 years

Text

RECOGNITION

series m.list

PAIRING : sukuna x fem!reader

SUMMARY : when an exchange student comes to jujutsu tech, Itadori is set on finding out why the King of curses is so interested in you.

TAGS : fluff, the tiniest bit of angst, jjk anime spoilers, some curse words, reader is described as a black female

NOTES : i’ve read a couple of works where sukuna meets his reincarnated lover so I wanted to try it out too, hope you enjoy. was supposed to make progress with my wips but I was in a sukuna mood. (◕ᴗ◕✿)

Sukuna feels your presence before he sees you. It’s one of those cliché moments where time puts its hand up to signal a standstill. Yuuji can feel it too when you pass by, your long braids swishing with each step.

He’s sure that he’s never seen you before but his shared body buzzes in remembrance. All the while, his emotions are overtaken by the unbridled feeling of wanting.

After that, Itadori never took it upon himself to ask Sukuna about the matter because the curse didn’t seem to want to.

Sukuna had become more and more suppressed, his usual pop-ups were a rare occurrence, even when Megumi was around. However, for the whole month you’d been at Jujutsu Tech, the King of curses had been intent on observing from his throne of woven carcasses, body hunched over to just watch.

You’re an exchange student, Itadori recalls Gojo’s past conversation about a new second-year that would be coming from the states. You’re strong — at first, Itadori couldn’t help but think that this revelation was the reason for Sukuna’s interest —your cursed energy being perfect sediment for close combat and dealing precise blows, all the same, Itadori could feel a grappling hook of something that seemed to be festering.

It’s dark and brooding and it stirs every time you come into contact with him. And Yuuji thinks he might go crazy because he wants to know your connection with Sukuna and it’s not like he can ask you because your aura screams — unapproachable.

His chance comes when all the first-years are assigned to a mission, you're there for extra measure. Gojo’s shaman instincts telling him that this mission was far too exceeding for him, Nobara, and Megumi.

Though just as Gojo predicted, it goes terribly wrong and Itadori keels over with an empty hollow where his heart should be.

His last thoughts are consumed with a screeching mantra of his late grandfather’s words. In the crevice of his flickering mind, they're big bold letters that drip with poisoned regret.

Before his vision goes black, the last thing he sees is a heart-broken Megumi and your face which is flooded with guilt.

When Itadori comes face to face with the King of curses, the stench of rotting death overpowering his senses, he mulls over the terms laid out by Sukuna to come back, alive.

To be reunited with his friends and become some type of savior —sukuna's words, not his— he'd give up the reigns of his body so Sukuna could talk to you whenever he chose.

For the exchange of his life, the rules weren’t bad, a part of him knows that this selfish override could cause problems for you in the future, but he still agrees.

When he wakes up to a pure white ceiling and the smell of bleach he doesn’t expect to see you towering over him. Moving up to a sitting position, his cheeks nearly bleed red because he’s naked. His eyes frantically flit over to Gojo who’s sitting in the corner of the room, watching the exchange. The white-haired sorcerer shrugs in a ridiculed manner —silently telling Itadori that it wasn’t his problem.

“You called me,” your voice filters through the bright room. His eyebrows crinkle in confusion. Sukuna must've did something.

When his eyes flit back to you, he’s met with your monotone expression, your cascade of braids framing your face. And for the third time in his life, he’s scared.

Your cursed energy, which for your level should leave little to no residual, is flaring with onyx undertones. Its sharpened jaws nearing closer and closer to Itadori in a beckoning manner. He's not sure why it's visible in the first place.

Gojo stays silent.

Brat, let me out. Sukuna, for the first time in weeks, pops up with a wide mouth on the palm of his hand. Without a second thought, Itadori allows him.

Whilst wading in his domain of subconsciousness, he watches the exchange. Your expression stays the same as you study Sukuna’s marked face.

“So hostile,” Sukuna bares, his powerful aura sifting through the room. You roll your eyes and crack a smile. Seamlessly ignoring the other man in the room— who you know Sukuna has a grudge with.

“Am I not supposed to be?” you cross your arms and ask. “Being friendly would get me in trouble.”

“You remember me?” The King of curses cuts straight to the point, the question being so unexpected that Gojo shuffles in his seat, his spine rigid with anticipation.

You nod stiffly. "I didn’t at first, not fully at least, but after coming into contact a few times, yeah.”

“It’s a shame I don’t have control over this body,” Sukuna presses a palm to your cheek, no doubt a loving caress. His deep baritone voice causing your skin to erupt into a turnpike for goosebumps to situate. “Do you remember how we parted last?”

“A sorcerer killed me or something,” you scratch the back of your neck under his intense stare. “Right through here,” you confess, pointing to the middle of your sternum.

“And you’ve become one?” Sukuna quirks an eyebrow, shoulders stiff with anger.

“I didn’t even know I knew you until a month ago, calm down,” you wave in dismissal. Itadori takes note in the way Sukuna visibly relaxes, your words washing him in a bucket of warmth. “Is that all? I’ve got a mission in thirty minutes.”

“I’m coming with you.” Sukuna jumps off the steel table, his bare feet touching the cool ground. You turn your eyes away from the bottom half of his body, ears growing hot in embarrassment.

“Eh? Is that allowed?” You turn to Gojo who’s still analyzing the situation beforehand and he shrugs with complacency. “Don’t let anyone see him,” Gojo warns, his stare serious even under his blindfold. You're not exactly sure what Gojo's thinking but you grasp the opportunity.

When you leave the autopsy room with a naked Sukuna by your side, careful to avoid any areas where Sukuna’s aura might be felt, you make it to Itadori’s dorm.

“Here.” You throw him Yuuji’s formal uniform and a pair of brown boots you find in the corner of his room. “I’m not wearing this,” Sukuna interjects.

“Huh?” Your upper lip curls up in confusion. “Then you’re not coming with me.” You turn to leave but he catches your arm in a tight grip.

“Fine, since you’re so damn adamant.” He releases his grip on your arm to slip into Yuuji’s clothes, when he finishes he turns to you with a glare.

“Good boy,” you praise, patting his tattooed cheek.

Internally, Itadori’s too bewildered to tease the curse. In all of his time spent with Sukuna in his body, he’s never seen the King of curses voluntarily listen to somebody else’s demands. The murky water he stands in ripples as he sits to observe everything that’s transpiring.

When you both reach the site you were assigned to, you sigh in annoyance. “What is it?” Sukuna asks, hands in pockets as he studies your face.

“I was hoping to have an easy day, they’re not dangerous or anything but there’s more than a dozen in there.” You point to the abandoned building, its steel beams bending with age.

“I’ll exorcise them for you.”

This is going completely against this guy’s morals, Yuuji thinks.

Your eyebrows fly to your forehead as you grow giddy with happiness. “Really?” You exclaim clambering up to wrap him in a hug.

“If you don’t let go, I won’t.” He grumbles, head in your neck while inhaling your sweet scent.

“Okayyy,” you inhale, trailing off, Sukuna not too far behind.

The exorcism is completed in fifteen seconds, tops. You stare in amazement at his lithe movements. His sharp fingers extinguishing cores with precise stabs— the same way he did his vessel. When he’s done he turns to you with an eyebrow raised, his hands wet with unspoken substance. You turn away with a humph.

“Was it not fast enough?” He walks towards you, concern written all over his expression.

“It was too fast,” you proclaim.

“Huh?”

“You’re a show-off,” you turn to exit the building, your braids whizzing past his face. You hear his roaring laughter behind you as you make it outside.

The smell of freshly churned earth enters your nostrils as you walk down a fenced sidewalk with bent daffodils. “Where are we going?”

“A ramen shop.” His gaze flicks over to study your face which is softened with what seems to be tranquility. His heart tides over with pride once he realizes that you feel content with him, a 1000-year-old curse.

However, he knows it’s the result of your memories that tie in with his; shared massacres and intertwined fates. Multiple restarts of what seemed to be a never-ending cycle of mingled hearts. But this time jump was different than the others.

You being a sorcerer is not the only obstacle, at all.

“Sukuna? Hey– you’re spacing out.” You wave a hand in front of his face to grab his attention.

“We’re here.” He looks up to see a small ramen shop, its logo old with age. As he enters the shop, he somehow finds contentment in being in a place that you like.

—

“You know you’re probably attracting sorcerers and curses alike as we speak?” You inquire, grabbing your ramen bowl from the waiter who nervously glances at Sukuna. His tattooed face also attracting unwanted attention.

“Mhm, I’ll just kill them if they interfere.” You whip your head to turn to the waiter who you’re relieved to see, had already left.

“I knew you’d say that,” you stuff your face with a handful of steaming noodles.

“Sukuna?”

“Mhm?”

“What’s gonna happen between us?” You flick your index finger back and forth. “It’s not like the other times, I’m a dedicated sorcerer.”

“So?”

“You’re the King of curses, I’m a sorcerer.” You repeat, dropping your wooden chopsticks to place your head on your propped fist.

“Already made a deal with the brat, I can talk to you whenever and wherever I want,” he pulls his face closer to yours.

“Yeah? What happens when they execute Itadori?” You curl your hands into balled fists, an unfamiliar emotion welling up in your throat. Somehow, it doesn't fit. It crosses your veins in a parasitic manner and your eyes glaze over.

“I’ll just come back.” He states matter of factly, voice coated with arrogance.

“You promise?” You whisper, holding out your pinky finger. You nearly scoff at your own action.

Ignoring the finger you bare out, he presses his lips against yours. It’s the same as he can remember, centuries ago. His body elates with a hum of electricity. And it's as if his body's creating a second space of void in which he feels his every sense being sharpened; the smooth curve of your full lips and the salty taste of previous ramen.

But before the kiss can go any further, you're pulling back.

“That was uh…” You blink once, twice, trying desperately to collect your thoughts. When you look back to Sukuna, you instead are met with Itadori’s clear face.

“The hell are you doing, brat?” Sukuna bares his teeth on the right side of Itadori’s cheek. ”I- I’m sorry just got a little uh.. flustered.”

“The fuck are you getting flustered for?” Sukuna growls.

“I- uh..”

“It’s okay Yuuji, you can switch again another time,” you sympathize with the boy. His cheeks are coated in red.

“It’s getting late, eat some ramen so we can go.” You chuckle. Itadori nods as his hand reaches towards a pair of chopsticks.

“Touch my ramen and I’ll kill you again, you damn brat.”

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#sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x poc reader #sukuna x black reader #jjk x reader #jjk x poc reader #jjk x poc!reader #jjk x black reader #jjk x you #itadori x reader #itadori x poc reader #itadori x black reader #anime x black!reader

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hinatastinygiant · 2 years

Text

Chapter Seven

The Worthiness

Pairing: Hanma x Fem!Reader

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After Toman's meeting is over, you look around once more for the man with the bell earring. Eventually, you are able to find him, sitting against a stone fence and looking down at his phone. You walk over and take the seat beside him; the second you do, he looks up and grins, shutting off his phone to turn his whole attention to you.

"Took you long enough," he hums. "I don't think I made it too difficult to find me."

"Do you know me?" you ask, a bit caught off guard by his behavior.

"Not personally, but I'm not dumb enough to think you aren't connected to Hanma and Kisaki in some way. I'm Kazutora Hanemiya, by the way." he grins.

"So what if I am? That's not a crime. Besides, they're my captain and co-captain, after all," you defend calmly.

"That's not exactly what I meant," he sighs with a shake of his head. "Takemitchy's been goin' around saying that they're both trying to start up some "Otsuda" gang and put Toman in a grave. Are you part of that?"

"I follow Hanma," you shrug as you give your ambiguous answer.

"That's vague enough," he chuckles.

"What else have you heard from Takemitchy?" you ask with narrowing eyes.

"Well, I heard that Hanma's pretty pissed at Toman for some money think that happened with Kokonoi a little while back. That probably gives him a good reason to try and finish the Tokyo Manji Gang..."

"Hanma's got his own casino," you shrugs. "Everybody knows that so why would he care about a little bit of cash?"

Kazutora looks you dead in the eye before speaking. "You know, Y/N, if you want to get rid of Toman, I want in."

"Oh please," you scoff at his horrible acting skills. "What the hell is that? You tryna be a cop or a shitty actor?"

"Neither," he replies still as serious as before. "I can prove it, too."

"If I were to let you, how would you go about doing that?" you hum, now beginning to get a bit invested in how far he'll go with this. But also, on the flip side, if he is serious, it would be smart to have him prove his worth.

Kazutora silently turns his phone back on and shows you a picture from his camera roll of a casino different than Hanma's. "This is the Akashi gang's casino," he tells you, "and I know where the vault is... and the combination. Your group could make bank from that if you pull it off."

"How do I know you're not working with the Akashis?" you scoff. "Hanma's not exactly on good terms with them either, right now for... personal reasons."

"You're too damn skeptical, you should accept what I'm giving you. I mean, you don't have to go along with it, but I'll be here if you change your mind," he nods.

"Dammit," you curse as you look around to make sure the two of you are along. "Get up, let's go!"

As you stand up, you grab Kazutora by the arm, pulling him towards the direction you last saw Hanma. And when you finally do find your husband, you basically toss Kazutora right at him.

"Whoa, what's goin' on babe?" Hanma chuckles as he pushes Kazutora off him probably a bit more rudely than he meant to considering it did catch him off guard.

"This little shit is trying to pull some stunt but I don't know what it is," you huff. "He says he wants to get rid of Toman and has some secret in with the Akashi gang and their casino vault."

Hanma looks between you and the dual-haired man. "So what's the problem?"

"The problem is that he could be bullshitting us! How am I supposed to know whether he's telling the truth or not?" you sigh deflatedly.

"Well, I don't see an issue with this. Let's bring him back with us and keep him 'til we get what we want out of this whole thing, yeah?"

"Sure," you nod as a bit of stress is released from your shoulders. "That's not a terrible plan."

"Good 'cause if we actually pull something like that of..."

"We'll make a fucking buttload of money!" you finish for him excitedly.

Hanma nods and you grab onto Kazutora again. "Come on," you nod to him, "you're coming with us."

"Can I at least bring my bike?" he asks hopefully and a bit worried about leaving his bike unattended for too long.

"Don't worry about it," you assure him. "I'll have Chikao bring it. Where the hell is he anyway?"

"I'll find him," Hanma says as he tosses you the car key. "Hand me your keys, Kazutora. I'll have Chikao bring it on his way back. You two get in the car."

Kazutora agrees without putting up a fight and hands Hanma his keys. Hanma then walks off to find Chikao and the two of you get to the car. It's only a few minutes later that Hanma arrives and the three of you ride off to the casino.

"Keep going," you whisper to Kazutora as he walks in front of you through the busy casino. You guide him all the way to Hanma's office where you have him stop and begin restraining up with zip cuffs.

"Now," Hanma smiles as he sits in his large chair behind his desk. "What's this about the Akashi vault?"

Kazutora explains to the two of you that at the back of the Akashi gang's casino, there's a door that leads to a basement- and in that basement is a large, golden vault stacked with all kinds of cash.

After exchanging an agreeable look towards you, Hanma tells Kazutora that he'll go to check this whole thing out. It's then up to you to slap a piece of duct tape over Kazutora's mouth and apologize profusely as you toss him into Hanma's dark closet.

You then strip yourself of Toman's uniform, leaving yourself in a black dress. Beneath, you tie a belt around one of your legs and stick an unloaded gun and taser into its loops. Then, as you reach over Kazutora's body, you grab a box of bullets and batteries from the back of the closet and pass it to your husband.

"What're you planning?" he asks with amusement in his eyes.

"I'll take the front, you take the back."

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Taglist: @hanmascult @crowbird @thevillagehiddenintheinternet @littlemochi @kokotakeomi

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eliselovely · 3 years

Text

Canine Matchmaker

Words: 2819

Warnings: p in v sex, oral (f receiving), they don’t really know each other in this, stranger danger irl but this is fiction

New Years Eve night was usually a night spent with friends, getting drunk and eating way too much snack food while waiting for midnight. Not for you though, you were happy to make yourself dinner, pour yourself a glass of wine and cuddle up on the couch with your dog to watch movies. The first two steps of that plan had gone well, and you had just let Basil, your pitbull shelter dog outside. You wait a few minutes before checking on her, she usually finishes her business pretty quickly in the winter time, not wanting to stay out in the cold for too long. However, tonight she was taking longer than usual. Going over to your patio door, you look around your backyard but you don’t see her.

“Basil, come here girl!” you call for her, stepping outside. You take a moment to listen for the jingling of her collar but you don’t hear anything. “Basil come!” Again nothing.

There was a snowstorm that was just beginning, and you were starting to fear that she had gotten out of the yard. If that was the truth, then you’d be in for a stressful night. The temperature outside was hovering around freezing, which meant that the roads would be coated with slick ice and the holiday meant that it was unlikely that the city would send out many plows. If you were going to drive in search of Basil, it had to be soon. Triple checking the yard, just in case, you find the fence gate slightly ajar, the last piece of evidence you needed to be sure you were making the right decision to get in your car.

“Fuck,” you grumble, going back inside to get your purse and keys. Donning a pair of snow boots and a heavy coat you head out to your car.

As almost an afterthought, you text a few of your neighbors to see if they’d keep an eye out for her. Driving slowly, you start to circle the neighborhood, going block by block making sure to be careful around corners, the roads getting more and more slippery by the minute. Visibility was also rapidly decreasing as the heavy snow continued to fall. You had just started to panic when you got a call from an unknown number.

“Hello?” you answer, trying to keep your voice from shaking in panic.

“Hi,” comes a male voice, “I think I found your dog, this number was on her collar.”

“Yes! Oh my god, is she ok?” you ask.

“Yeah, yeah, she was shivering pretty badly, but I gave her some water and she’s settled on my couch under a blanket.” the man said.

“Oh thank god,” you breathe out. “Can you text me your address so I can come pick her up?”

“Definitely,” he confirms. “Drive safe, it’s getting pretty bad out there.”

“Thank you,” you say and hang up.

As soon as the man’s text comes through with his address, you punch it into google maps and you’re on your way. You pull up to your destination a few minutes later, a quiet stretch of townhomes just a few miles from your home. You sent him a quick ‘I’m here’ text and hurried up to the front door. The man who answers your knock had to be the most attractive man you had seen in real life, and in other circumstances, you would have flirted.

“Hi,” he greets. “Please, come in. Basil is in the living room, she’s pretty worn out.”

Kicking the snow off your boots, you step inside. As if she could sense your presence, Basil comes trotting into the entryway causing you to drop to your knees, giving your previously lost companion as much affection as you could.

“Hi baby,” you say to her, turning your head away from her attempts to lick your face. “Hi, yes thank you, I missed you too. You worried me naughty girl.”

You hear the man chuckle lightly at your one sided conversation, you had almost forgotten he was there.

“Thank you so much for taking care of her,” you say, standing up again to face him.

“Absolutely no problem. I’m Frankie by the way, Frankie Morales,” he says, offering a hand for you to shake.

You shake his hand and introduce yourself in return. The two of you make small talk for a short while, and when you do leave, you find the snow storm has picked up considerably, roughly an inch and a half of fresh, wet snow.

“Shit,” you breathe. “Driving is going to suck.”

“If you want,” Frankie starts, “if you want, you can wait it out here and see if it lets up a bit, the plows will be out soon and make driving a whole lot easier.”

“If you don’t mind, that would be great,” you say. “But I am going to send my location to some friends just in case you’re a psycho or something.”

Frankie chuckles again. “I’d expect nothing less. You want a drink or something?

The two of you end up in his living room, chatting easily and flirting over a few beers, Basil comfortably dozing between you. Your thoughts start to wander to what you would do if you had met Frankie at a bar, how you probably would have chatted him up, or maybe he would have beaten you to it. You don’t realize you’ve zoned out until you hear his voice, calling you back to the present.

“Hey, you still with me?” he asks.

“Yeah, sorry,” you say. “Just got lost in thought is all.”

“What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?”

“Not to answer a question with a question, but can I say something sort of forward?”

“Shoot.”

“You can totally stop me if I’m overstepping, feel free to kick me out if yo-.”

“Hermosa, what is it?”

You take a second to pluck up the rest of your courage, flushing at the nickname he called you.

“If we had met at a bar, I would have invited you home with me,” you confess, flicking your eyes up to meet his heavy gaze.

“Oh yeah?” he encourages, obviously knowing exactly what he was doing. “What would we have done?”

“I would have had you fuck me until I couldn’t walk,” you say bluntly, leaving the pleasantries until you had your response. Frankie didn’t respond at first, just took a sip of his beer never breaking eye contact.

“And what about here?” he finally says. “What if I were to invite you upstairs so I could do just that?”

“Well then, I think I’d tell you to show me a damn good time,” you say.

Frankie slowly leans forward to set his beer on the coffee table, taking yours from your grasp and doing the same. He stood in front of you, offering his hand to help you up. His touch is gentle as he places a large hand on the side of your cheek, taking a small step closer as he presses his lips to yours. You had barely a moment to bask in the feel before the two of you were being startled apart by Basil letting out a particularly loud snort in her sleep.

“I think that’s her way of telling us to get a room,” you joke, giggling lightly.

“If you say so,” he says, and before you have a chance to comprehend what he said, you are being swept off your feet into his arms, one strong arm around your back and the other under your knees. He gives you another quick kiss before starting up the stairs, presumably towards his bedroom.

He gently sets you down on the soft down comforter, giving you the first real kiss of the night. One you can truly take your time to enjoy, it’s slow and passionate, but with an undercurrent of obvious lust. You feel his tongue swipe at your bottom lip, politely asking for permission to do more. You gladly open for him, loving the taste of his mouth.

“Frankie,” you moan into his mouth, your brain no longer being able to form full thoughts.

“You want more Hermosa?” he asks, hands sliding down to caress and squeeze your breast making you arch into his touch. “Yeah?”

“Please,” you whine, embarrassed at how desperate you sound.

“Alright Sweetheart, I’ll give you more,” he promises, pulling you upright again to pull your sweatshirt over your head and tossing it somewhere to be found later. “My god you’re gorgeous,” he says running his hands across your bare skin, reaching around you to unclasp your bra. He lays you back down again, attaching his warm mouth to one of your nipples, his fingers pinching the other one.

“Fuck yes,” you breathe out.

You feel his grin against your skin, delighting in giving you pleasure. Pulling his mouth off with a pop, he moves further down, unbuttoning your pants and pulling them off along with your panties.

“Damn, I think you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen,” he says.

“I know a better use for that motor mouth of yours,” you tease in a moment of clarity. You hold his gaze as you slide your legs open further, exposing your dripping core to him.

“So fucking sexy,” he all but moans.

Leaning down again, he kisses your lips, and from there leaving a trail of wet, open mouthed kisses down your chest and abdomen. Placing a kiss to each thigh, sending you a wink before licking a thick stripe through your folds up to your clit, sucking the sensitive bundle of nerves between his lips, his short facial hair scraping against your inner thighs.

“Ah, yes Frankie,” you moan.

Without warning, he sinks his index finger into your pussy causing your hips to buck up into his mouth in response. You card your fingers through his hair and hold him tightly to your sensitive heat, your moans growing louder as he continued. Frankie adds another finger, hooking them upwards and stroking your g spot.

“Right there!” you exclaim. “Fuck, right there.”

Frankie chuckles against your cunt, the vibrations just adding to the pleasure he was giving you. The familiar coil in your core was growing ever tighter, threatening to snap at any moment.

“I’m close,” you warn in between breaths.

“Cum for me Hermosa,” Frankie groans against your clit, sucking even harder and pumping his fingers even faster.

The coil in your belly snaps and you cum on his fingers, letting out a loud, lewd moan as you do. He pulls fingers out of you, licking one more long stripe through your folds.

“You taste so good Hermosa,” he praises, kissing up your body reaching your mouth yet again. You love tasting your release on his lips.

“Frankie,” you say, desperate to feel him inside of you. “Frankie, fuck me please.”

“As you wish Hermosa,” he grants. “You want to ride me?”

“Yes!” you exclaim. “Oh my fuck yes!”

Frankie chuckles again and stands to undress himself. His golden skin glowed in the lamp light, the small dusting of hair on his chest looked soft to the touch and you couldn’t wait to run your hands across his skin. You let your eyes wander downwards as he strips his pants away, a dark, well groomed happy trail leading to his substantial cock. You feel your pussy clench at the thought of having it inside you.

“You like what you see Hermosa?” he says with a sly smile.

“Dear god yes,” you say almost in a whine.

He grabs a condom from the bedside table and rolls it on before settling on the bed. Once he is ready you sling one leg over his abdomen, straddling him. It is your turn to lean down to kiss him, the remnants of your cum still detectable on his tongue. You pull away and reach behind you to line his cock up with your entrance, slowly sinking down onto it. The two of you groan in tandem at the feel of it, the stretch of his cock inside of you dancing on the line between pain and pleasure.

“You’re so tight Hermosa,” he praises, “so warm.”

You moan at his words, grinding your hips down against him. Bracing your hands on his chest, you start to bounce at a steady pace, Frankie’s hands on your hips helping to guide you as you take your pleasure. His resolve is straining as he resists the urge to fuck up into you, not wanting this to be over too quickly. He slides a hand up to cup one of your tits, the other moving to rub your clit, hoping to coax another orgasm out of you.

“Come on baby,” he groans. “Cum on my cock.”

You clench around him as you cum again, your nails digging into his skin leaving crescent shaped marks. His fingers rubbing lazy circles on your clit as you come down from your high, your fluttering walls providing the perfect sheath for Frankie’s rock hard member. Collapsing against his chest, you press your lips against his, happy to explore his mouth with your tongue. After a few moments, he bucks his hips up into you a few times before flipping you onto your back, careful not to let his cock slip free.

“You ready for more Hermosa?” he asks.

You nod, not trusting your mouth to work well enough to form words after two intense orgasms. He starts slow, savoring the feeling of your velvety walls wrapped around him. He steadily builds up his pace until he’s fucking you with reckless abandon, one hand squeezes your tit, the other arm braced above your head, his weight resting on his forearm as his hand stroked your hair. You felt yet another orgasm building as he slammed his hips into yours, he was grunting in pleasure with every thrust.

“Frankie, I’m gonna cum again,” you gasp.

“Do it,” he orders. “I’m close too.”

His cock hits that perfect spot inside you once, twice, three times and you’re sent hurtling over the edge, clenching down hard on his cock. As his hips start to falter, you’re hit by a wonderful thought.

“Frankie,” you moan.

“Yes Hermosa?” he replies, breathless and panting.

“I want you to cum on my tits,” you confess.

He answers you not with words, but rather with a loud groan and a quick searing kiss. He pulls out of you and tears the condom of his weeping length, stroking it rapidly as he positions himself over you. Reaching up, you place your hand over his, helping to bring him to climax.

“Fuck,” he grunts, his hot cum shooting out to land on your tits and chest. You look up with a large smile on your face, your thumb rubbing slow circles on the back of his hand, both of you still trying to catch your breath.

“That was amazing,” you pant.

“Mmm, to say the least,” he says, his voice almost at a whisper. “I’ll be right back to clean you up Hermosa.”

You hum in response, contentedly laying on his large bed. He comes back with a warm washcloth, gently dragging it over your skin cleaning away his release from your chest and yours from between your thighs. Before returning to the bathroom to return the washcloth, he places a tender kiss to your forehead.

“Gorgeous,” he states.

A chill washes over you and you are suddenly hyper aware of Frankie’s missing body heat. Rolling off the bed, you spot your discarded sweatshirt near the edge of the bed. Just the few steps it takes you to reach the piece of clothing shows you just how sore you are, and how much more you would be later. The thought makes you smile as you pull your sweatshirt over your head.

Frankie reenters the bedroom soon after, still gloriously naked.

“Hi,” you mumbled into the kiss he gave you.

“Hi,” he responds. “The snow is still coming down pretty heavily, and it doesn’t look like the plows have been out. So it looks like you and Basil are going to be stuck here tonight.”

“Worse things have happened,” you joke. “Do you have a pair of sweatpants I could borrow for the night?”

“I’m sure I can find something for you.”

He goes to his closet then, pulling on a pair of boxers and a shirt before digging out a pair of sweatpants before tossing them to you. As you pull on your discarded panties and his much too large sweatpants, you hear the jingle of Basil’s collar as she comes up the stairs.

“She’s quite the matchmaker,” Frankie laughs.

“To say the least,” you giggle, squatting down next to your canine companion.

“Hey,” Frankie says, pointing at the clock on his bedside table.

“Happy New Year,” the two of you say simultaneously, laughing at the absurdity of tonight’s situation.

#pedro pascal #frankie morales smut #frankie morales x reader #francisco catfish morales #frankie 'catfish' morales #triple frontier #francisco morales #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales

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jtrbluv · 4 years

Text

hell-ish | pjm

summary: can be read as a separate oneshot or a continuation of ‘we’re not really strangers’“

“But do you remember when we went on a field trip to that amusement park in 8th grade? Around halloween time? … Yeah, I think that’s the moment I pretty much fell in love with you.“

pairing: jimin x reader

genre: fluff, humor, establisedrelationship!au

word count: 7.7k+

warnings: profanity (they are beyond terrified), inaccurate depictions of amusement park shenanigans, neurotic clowns (but they’re acting)

A/N: IM SO SRY ITS LITERALLY NOT EVEN HALLOWEEN ANYMORE GOODBYE DD; in my defense they typically have these typa things open after halloween ends... miss rona just isn’t allowing it this year ofc ;w; a special thanks to @viopera , @koushiningg, and @bangtans-peaceful-piegon for letting me use their likeness, i love u all. and i hope you enjoy this late halloween fic right before thanksgiving break!

The car rolls to a smooth stop. The man in the driver’s seat puts the car into park—turning towards you while placing a reassuring hand on your thigh.

“Hey,” he says, a small close-lipped grin painting across his features, “you excited?”

You reposition in your seat so you can face him, or more specifically, your best-friend-turned-lover—the sight of him smiling causes you to elicit one of your own, your nerves slightly subsiding.

“I am actually,” you admit, “how long has it been? Six? Seven years?”

“Around there I think, but we should probably get going. The lines are probably going to be stupid long like always,” he suggests, his hand leaving your thigh only to ruffle the hair on top of your head, "Here's to new memories Y/N."

You step out onto the pavement—the crisp, cold night air nipping at your cheeks and nose. The cooler temperature serving as a reminder that winter was yet to come and autumn was about to come to a close. You form an O-shape with your mouth, exhaling sharply and seeing your own breath swirling and blending into the air around you.

Footsteps approach you from the side as you shut the car door. Your head whips around to see Jimin walking towards you with a dopey grin plastered on his face. In response, your eyes playfully loll back, a stream of air huffing out of your nose.

You shift your focus back towards in front of you, eyeing the roller coaster that intimidatingly loomed beyond the fence of the park, the drop tower that appeared just as high, and the other neighboring attractions that towered significantly enough to be seen from afar. The whole stretch of the park emitted a red glow, from what you could assume was from the large-scale lighting and technology that was spread out across the expanse.

A soft hand slides its way from your forearm down to your palm, intertwining all in one smooth motion. It was warm and comforting much unlike your frozen, almost entirely numb ones.

“Someone’s a little cold aren’t they,” he teases, using his other hand to attempt to rub more warmth into yours.

“You know my hands are chronically cold,” you pointedly whine, causing small clouds of air to shoot out of his mouth and nose due to his laughter.

He locks the car and you two begin making your way towards the entrance—from what seemed like a mile, in reality, was only a block away. There was practically no gap in between the two of you the entire time, taking advantage of each other’s body heat amidst the numbingly cold weather.

The wait wasn't too shabby, but you knew it was because time always seemed to pass by so much faster when you were with him, most of the pastime consisting of talking about how your past week has been, the fuckton of assignments you two had gotten, and the dangerously high intakes of caffeine you two had consumed as per usual.

The conversation ceased after a while, and it was just the two of you pressed side to side in comfortable silence, hands still intertwined. It was interesting to see such a vast variety of ages all around you—the most common age range were teenagers or people of the same age as the two of you, which wasn’t a surprise. After getting past the ticket booth and security check, you

two finally make it inside.

The first thing you notice is the large, antique carousel that hadn’t changed in the tiniest bit since the last time you were here.

The meticulously decorated entrance—brought to life by the fire torches, heavy-duty fog machines that didn't allow one to see after 10 feet ahead of them, bright lights that were replaced by either no lights at all or a faint red tint, and just the whole ambiance—had greatly juxtaposed the simplicity and familiarity of the carousel that stood in the eye of it all.

The heat of the fire torches allow you to regain some warmth back into your body—you create a small gap in between you and Jimin, in which he pouts and lifts your intertwined hands up to his face, pressing a kiss into the back of your hand.

“So, where do you wanna go first?” He asks, swinging your arm back and forth after passing through the gates.

“I’m fine with whatever,” you enunciate a bit loudly, the usual noises of amusement park shenanigans hindering your hearing.

“You sure about that?”

You click your tongue, “Jimin please, I’m a college student now, not a puny 8th grader anymore,” you argue, watching him turn away as he tries to stifle his laughter, “I swear!”

“Alright! Alright! I’ll believe you,” he eventually caves, frantically waving his hand to dismiss your concerns, “But I won’t believe you until I see it.”

“Oh, so we’re gonna play that game huh,” you retort, brows furrowing as a smirk creeps across your face, “Alright, so what do you think about riding that?” You ask innocently, motioning up towards the drop tower that forced one to crane their neck all the way back just to see the top.

You break your focus as you look back down and turn towards him to gauge his reaction. His jaw dropping down to his knees—eyes widened in complete bafflement and horror.

“Y/N. I am literally going to fucking die if I ride that shit. Oh my god.”

“What do you mean? It’s totally safe! I’ve been on it so many times.” You attempt to console him, knowing it’s futile because of the piercing glare he gives you right after you say that.

“And that’s supposed to make it better how?!"

You soothingly rub the back of his hand in an attempt to ease his nerves, “Of course I won’t push you if you don’t want to, you know.”

He sighs, “Well, now you’re just making me sound like a puny 8th grader.”

“I can assure you that you very much, are not Chim.” And he smirks at that, tightening his grip on your hand, making you wish that you didn't give him that ego boost in the first place because he surely didn’t need any more of that.

You take some time to mull over your options, but instead, go with whatever your gut feeling was initially leaning towards, “Okay, so what if every time you take me to a house, I have to take you on a ride. You get to choose the house and I get to choose the ride.”

He nods in acknowledgment, “I’m listening.”

“Does that sound valid?” You inquire.

He bites on his bottom lip, taking a moment to quickly cogitate between the options you had given him, and at last, he nods, "It sounds like a win-win."

"Or a lose-lose." You chuckle, and he mirrors.

He shakes his head, “I know you like rollercoasters and all that scary shit, but there’s also a ton of stuff that they’ve added since we’ve last been here.” He replies, thinking out loud, while making you feel more content with your decision, “You got a deal ma’am.” He affirms at last—releasing his grip to offer you his hand to seal the deal, in which you confirm resolutely by shaking it.

Just like he said, the amusement park most definitely stepped up their game ever since you both were middle schoolers, navigating the large expanse with a bunch of other measly and equally puny peers.

The deeper you two make your way into the park, the more themed attractions lined the path. At this point, you could barely make out the bottom half of your legs due to the thickness of the fog. Actors were running around left and right—faces decorated with FX makeup that you could barely discern because of the dim lighting—effectively scaring others, clear by the amount of ear-splitting shrieks you've heard in the past ten minutes that was enough to make your eardrums burst.

Jimin takes note of your slight tenseness. He wasn't oblivious and he knew that you were trying to feign nonchalance—but the razor-tight grip on his hand and lack of chatter on your end was saying otherwise. But just like everything you do, he thought it was cute anyway.

He promptly squeezes your hand, making you turn to face him, "Do you want the first pick?"

You hum, "You can have it if you want."

"Are you sure?"

"Yess," you drag out exasperatedly, "how many times do I have to tell you that I'll be perf– !" You abruptly halt as a zombie (that very much isn't real is what you keep reminding yourself) whizzes past you, brushing against your shoulder and making you jump and trip over your own two feet.

The man beside you is quick to react—leaping in front of you with his arms out so you could fall into his grasp. And you do, gripping his arms to better steady yourself and stand up. As you attempt to straighten yourself out, your head sinks into his chest, laughter erupting out of the two of you to the point where his knees almost give out.

You detach yourself from his chest, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes from laughing so goddamn much. Finally regaining your poise, you immediately slip your fingers back in between his. He cards a hand through his locks with his remaining hand while taking deep breaths.

While tugging him away from where you two were standing to avoid another ruckus... granted that you were at a haunted amusement park, you shout into foggy air, "I'm fine, I'll be fine Jimin! Let's go!", hoping that maybe if you spoke it out into the world, you could manifest it into being true.

Well, weren’t you wrong.

A rare and near impossible feat is what you were able to accomplish: forcing Jimin to make a decision. Despite him already being a trademark libra, you always believed that one of his most standout and consistent libra-esque traits was the fact that he was so indecisive. To which had resulted in him forcing you to make decisions instead of him most of the time, whether they had been trivial or not.

The moment you realized that this "feat" wasn’t much of a feat, after all, was when you two had finally reached the entrance of the first haunted attraction he had chosen, his impulsive and most likely ulterior-motivated driven decision causing you to retract all preceding moments in which where you were being stubborn and indignant in him making the first pick.

Just your luck, his explanation behind his decision (and your almost near-death experience) is that he says and you quote, “Start off with a bang! We get the worst over with now so it’s all smooth sailing for the rest of the night. Trust me.”

For some context, you had a very rational fear of clowns. The year of 2016 was already bad enough as it was—a time in which you had gotten out of your first serious relationship, afterward giving yourself the most horrendous haircut in your entire life because you were emotionally strung and the scissors… well they just happened to be within an arm’s reach.

Later on in said year when you had become a junior and assignments had been piling up higher and higher without any shits given whatsoever, your minuscule fear of clowns had been blown out of all proportions—ultimately fueled by the number of clown sightings around your town and one altercation that you still think about until this day. Four years later, you can still vividly recall the time where you were coming home after studying all day at the local library and on the other side of the street, you had spotted a clown—feet planted to the cement sidewalk, body immobile besides their head that would keep its focus on you as you continuously made your way down the street. As you began to quicken up your pace, the clown began to reciprocate your actions from across the way, and you came to the conclusion that you didn’t really wanna die that night so you sprinted the entire rest of the way home.

And here you two were, at the front of the line standing behind the black curtain entrance—next to a rugged wood sign with the words, CLOWNEUROTICS, inscribed with a dripping, rich red liquid which you surmise was fake blood and not Kool-Aid.

“I cannot believe I let you have the first pick and you do this to me” You quip, chewing the chapped skin of your lips, breath shallow and bated.

“Y/N, you’ll be just fine. I’ll be here right beside you, remember?” he assures you once more, giving you another tight squeeze on your hand.

The curtains swish open, the employee in a simple all-black ensemble motioning the two of you to come inside. You close your eyes, taking one deep and steady inhale before stepping in.

You can barely make out your surroundings, let alone Jimin, who was standing right beside you. The worker’s voice hollers over the deafening noises of the tent. “Follow the path, don’t go backwards, or else you'll hold up the line. And you see that green light?” He asks while pointing to the tiny green bulb that was down the hallway in front of you, “Take a right from there.”

Jimin replies, knowing that you’re too fear-stricken to form coherent sentences at the moment, “Alright, thanks.”

The man nods, and Jimin tugs on your hand as he begins to walk forward. You follow closely behind, reminding yourself to take breaths before you flat out lose consciousness.

As you reach the end of the hallway and the green light bulb the man mentioned, Jimin pauses and turns around to stand in front of you, placing his hands on your shoulders.

“Y/N, I know you hate my guts right now, but I’m sorry in advance and just know that I love you, okay? You have full permission to torture me after this.” He reassures with a wide grin.

“Yeah, yeah, I love you too,” you grumble, lips downturned and head hanging low.

You feel his soft lips graze over your cheek, leaving a chaste peck before giving you an airy, irresistible smile that you can’t really help but relent, even though it already feels like your heart is about to implode on itself.

Taking a right, the setting of the attraction comes into periphery. White walls and floors—reminiscent of a hospital, are tainted with blood, a disarray of medical equipment, and severed body parts. You take notice of the vacant hospital beds, sheets crumpled and stained with red. Framed pictures of medical staff were hanging by loose nails, glass shattered, bloody splatters and smears all over the frames, walls, and white tile.

You two reach a doorway, next to one of the hinges was a sign that clearly said, Psychiatric Ward. Well, I guess that explains the neurotics part.

In an attempt to swallow down some of the fear in your throat, you tighten your grip on Jimin’s hand while opting to slither your remaining hand around his bicep.

He takes notice of your actions that were propelled by your increasing fear, and naturally, he can’t help but feel bad, “Hey, you know I’d never let anything happen to you.” He tells you, shaking you out of your slight daze, “You can hold onto me the whole time and stick your head in my shoulder just like you did years ago, I won’t mind,” he teases while booping your nose.

“Alright, let’s just get this over with, please.” You huff out, determined to somehow put on maybe not a brave, but a braver face than what he expects from you.

You manage to fail in a whopping, record-breaking, ten seconds of going inside.

The first jumpscare was so entirely predictable—the thunderous pounds against the wall, the trudging and supposedly neurotic clowns (although clowns are already neurotic enough as they are) had all built up suspense until a head of a clown had shot up from around the corner. Their usual clown features distorted with gashes in their skin and blood dribbling out of the corners of their mouth, clothes ripped and stained. Your entire body violently spasms, a shrill shriek, and an embarrassingly long string of curses leave your lips in a matter of mere seconds.

You don’t even notice the man you’re holding onto folding over in laughter because the clown is still very much still following you even after you turn the corner, but before you can recalibrate and trek forward another clown materializes just sparse inches at your side. Your entire body forcefully jerks back, knocking into Jimin, but the force doesn’t phase him in the slightest as he swiftly brings his arms around your frame to prevent you from falling back.

Next to you, the man’s laughter hasn’t ceased a bit the entire time, and as you quickly dash forward and away from the clowns that you oh-so-wanted to knock a tooth out of, while clinging onto his side, he presses a kiss to the top of your head, “Hanging in there?”

“I think I’m gonna murder you before I murder any of these clowns.”

“Noted!” he chimes while playfully bumping his head into yours.

As you two turn another corner, the sight of more clowns banging against vacant windows on either side of you has you wincing, and you could swear you could feel your left eye start to involuntarily twitch. You come to the indubitable realization that amidst dozens of clowns, you are evidently the biggest one here.

The sounds that blaringly elicit from your lips are the nearing equivalent to keyboard smashes with a variety of curse words in between. In short, if you had a swear jar, you’d be practically penniless at this point.

The clowns are quick to take note of your cowardly conduct, using it to their advantage and targeting you specifically—reaching and intruding so eerily close that you’re almost convinced that they’re actually touching you. You cower in their presence, squirming and sinking deeper and deeper into Jimin’s hold as you make your way down the path.

Beads of cold sweat began to assert their own path down your forehead—heart ricocheting against the walls of your chest, straining the cords of your throat because of your never-ending shouts and shrieks of terror upon terror. Your whole body was convulsing and shivering without fault, even when accompanied by the body heat of the man next to you, the harsh lighting of the overhead lights, and the lack of ventilation in this shoddy tent proved to be no match against your bodily functions that were going completely haywire. If you were an Amazon package, you would have a large ‘Caution: Handle With Care’ sign slapped right onto the box.

The pea-sized amount of pride that remains within you is the only thing stopping you from completely losing your shit.

Jimin's laughter—airy and unwavering, tickling the shell of your ear was the only thing keeping you grounded, serving as a constant reminder that at the very least when you might have lost all your pride and composure, you still had him by your side.

Without much forethought, he continues to lay kisses along your temple, clutching you close to his chest and keeping you upright as your knees constantly buckled under the weight of your looming fear, crumbling composure, and the grisly clowns that were most definitely preying on your downfall.

The ten-minute duration—which to you, had felt like a whole lifetime-and-a-half had finally come to a close. Once you were able to discern what you thought was the exit of the tent—the small opening leading to what had looked like signs of civilization, you booked it without hesitation, hastily tugging Jimin with you to the point where he nearly tramples over his own feet and crashes to the floor due to the sheer and sudden force.

You two finally pass through the exit. Feeling as if you had just ran a timed mile in five minutes, your body caves immediately—hunching over, briskly bringing your hands to your knees to support your deteriorating physiological state. The sound of your heavy breathing gets disrupted by Jimin’s laughter. You stand up, straightening yourself out when you realize that other people were starting to make their way towards the exit too, and you two were clearly blocking the way out.

Jimin takes you by the wrist and swiftly pulls you aside as more people start to trickle out of the tent. You two lean against the metal fence, comfortably silent as he lets you catch your breath.

You huff out, taking deep exhales as you speak, "Holy fuck, what even was that?"

"The funniest thing I have ever seen," he shoots back with a smile, slightly breathless as well.

You blink rapidly, body slumping against the fence, still completely cynical and disbelieving in what you had experienced. Biting the inside of your cheek so hard you're pretty sure you left teeth marks, you wipe your sweat with the hem of your sleeve.

"You okay?" he asks softly, closing the gap in between the two of you.

You nod, affirming your composure in hopes that it would solidify it for real. Giving him a smile to ease the nerves you knew he had, you visibly saw his smile widen, and with that, you ruffle his hair, take his hand into your own, and walk a few steps forward before announcing brazenly into the chilly autumn wind,

"Drop zone time."

"Y/N PLEASE—!"

"Don't do this, anything else but this please." He pleads, lips jutting out while childishly tugging on your sleeve.

You groan, "Bub, we had a deal."

He presses his lip together, "I know... but just look at that! How does that even look remotely safe enough for one to ride?" He tries to reason with you, staring up at the attraction that he believes should not even be labeled as an 'attraction' in the first place.

You chuckle softly, shaking your head, "If it was that much of a safety hazard, it wouldn't even exist Chim."

"I will never understand why people ride this out of enjoyment and pleasure. This is insane," he says, his eyes trailing to the long line of people behind the two of you.

"It's three seconds, I swear. Three seconds compared to my ten minutes of cussing and wanting to punch a clown in the face is very reasonable in my opinion. You’ll be just fine, I’ll hold your hand the whole time," you add on.

He quietly freezes in place—eyes fixated on the tower, hands leaving the fabric of your sweater. You feel his warm hand come in contact with yours, the back of his hand grazing your knuckles. Lacing your fingers in between his, he meets your eyes, giving you a timid, lopsided grin. A silent affirmation that had said more than words could’ve. I trust you but I’m still scared shitless.

“You guys are next,” the worker announces, opening the gate and gesturing you two to come inside. Jimin’s smile dissipates, face contorting into a look of mortification at the man’s words—eyes widening to the size of what would be considered as utter shock and lips curling into a form of disgust.

Tugging lightly at his hand, he whips his head towards you, waiting to speak until you two have passed the gate, “Y/N, I’m literally gonna piss my pants like I’m not even joking.”

“Jimin!” you say in a hushed yell, “Please don’t, I know your pride is too precious to you for you to annihilate it by pissing on a ride that even kids go on.”

He scoffs, “Okay fine… but we’re getting churros after this.”

Your brows furrow in confusion, smiling at his tone, “Why would I argue against churros?”

“Hello, miss? Come this way, please,” another worker greets, leading the two of you to two vacant spots of the ride where you presume were going to be yours.

You nod, making your way towards the two seats, hearing Jimin splutter incoherent words and sounds from behind your shoulder.

He immediately plops into the innermost spot, refusing to be on the outermost seat that only had one accompanying seat on one side, albeit it truly didn’t matter. And of course, you don’t tell him that.

Smiling at his overt signs of apprehension, you slide into the spot next to him, beginning to put on the seatbelt over your lap.

Drumming his fingers on his knees, he already has his seatbelt buckled and his over-the-shoulder restraints locked and secured into place.

“Ugh, can these things go any tighter! I can still move under here,” he tuts, vigorously trying to push the restraints closer to his body, yet his attempts are proven to be in vain.

“Bub, they still want you to be able to breathe,” you remind him with a small giggle, your head popping out of the U-shaped bar to look over at him—his brows knit in concentration, nose scrunched, lips tucked into his mouth.

In a final attempt, you hear the man beside you take a sharp and deep inhale, only to hear a tiny click emit from the restraint shortly afterward.

He releases his bated breath, only to come to the realization that he can’t extend his stomach all the way forward, the bar forcing it to come short. He splutters, bringing his hand to cover his face while he coughs only to realize that his arm can’t fully reach around the bar to meet his face.

You watch this entire scene unfold out in front of you—wishing you could do something to help the poor guy, but you already knew your attempts would be pointless in the end as your arms are physically incapable of extending that far. You sink back into your seat to make sure he doesn’t see the fact that you were trying so hard not to laugh.

“Jimin, deep breaths, in and out,” you instruct him as the worker starts to make their rounds around the ride, double-checking for seatbelts and secured restraints.

“Y/N, that’s the problem, I can’t.”

“Try scooting back into your seat,” the worker suggests to Jimin, giving him an empathetic smile.

“What do you mean–oh, erm, thank you.”

She nods, shaking Jimin’s restraint a little more energetically to reassure the man of his safety.

As she leaves, he says to you, “Y/N, I can’t believe you convinced me to go on this.”

“Me too, honestly. I’m really proud of you Chim.” You admit, reaching out a hand towards him in which he takes.

“Three seconds, right?” He reiterates.

“Give or take, yeah.”

“Y/N—!”

Your seats suddenly clatter, signaling the start of your long ascent. Jimin’s grip on your hand tightens substantially, causing you to groan out in pain.

He quickly takes note of the noise, loosening his grip ever so slightly, “Oh my god, sor- oh fucking hell, there’s no going back now?!”

You chomp down on your bottom lip before another sound could escape your mouth—his grip on your hand tightening the higher you two go, “No, no you’re fine, it’s okay..”

“HOLY SHIT WHY ARE WE ALREADY THIS HIGH UP?!” He yelps, kicking his feet against the air—people’s heads starting to look as small as ants, the rest of the park coming into view as if you were experiencing it from a drone’s point of view.

“Dumbass, don’t look down!”

“It’s too late–what the hell, why can I see the whole damn city from here?!” He sticks his head out of his restraint, looking up and trying to find the top, “wHen the FUCK does this shit stop please, Y/N, I cAn’T do this?!?!”

“Chim. Breathe. Deep, steady breaths, okay?” You say while audibly taking breaths so he can do the same.

“Okay, okay,” he says, voice cracking but following suit.

After you think that he finally manages to get a grip on himself, you decide to try to take his mind off the situation at hand, “Jimin, look at the view.”

His breath softens as he begins to take in his surroundings. He could see everything. To him, it feels as if he had the city in the palm of his hand. The rollercoasters that reside next to the tower were practically reaching eye-level to him, and despite the lack of color due to the theme of the park, he thought it was mesmerizing anyway. He marvels at the fact that he could even see past the park—catching a glimpse of the cars zooming on the main highway, minute specks of light emitting from the windows of skyscrapers, people living in their own little worlds in each one, And of course, the envy of it all, the night sky—the dark depth littered with a multitude of stars in their own little patterns and worlds of their own as well.

The overhead speakers trumpet, ripping Jimin out of his trance-like state, “Welcome to the drop zone brave newcomers. I hope you’ve had an enjoyable trip on the way up here. And I hope that your descent is just as enjoyable as well. We will be dropping in... “

Jimin heaves out, “Now that’s just plain rude at this point.”

“Ten.”

“Are you okay?”

He scoffs. “What kind of question is that Y/N?!”

“Nine.”

“Jimin, you’ll be just fine,” You reassure for the umpteenth time.

“I swear if this is longer than three seconds–”

“Eight.”

He frantically kicks the air. “Fucking hell! I can’t believe I’m doing this right now, I miss the ground.”

“Seven.”

“We’ll be back down to earth sooner than you think, I’m telling you.”

“Six.”

“Oh my fucking god, oh my fuck–!”

“Five.”

“Oh fuck, holy shit–!”

“Jimin, I’ll be right beside you–”

“Four.”

“–the whole way.”

“OH MY FUCKING GOD?!”

“Thre–!”

Before the countdown can finish, you two plummet, plunging down at great speeds—a feral-sounding squawk leaving Jimin’s lips when it all happens.

He squeezes his eyes shut, refusing to see what was going on—letting go of your hand, he opts to hold onto the other handlebar on the restraint instead. His breath is caught in his throat, the ride is moving so fast that he can’t even produce any noise, let alone move his body.

Just like you have been saying this whole night, the ride ends in a blink of an eye. Or more specifically, three seconds, give or take.

Jimin slumps in his seat—fingers still curled so tightly around the handlebars that his knuckles turn pale.

You stick your head out of your restraint, craning your neck to look at him beside you, “Jimin, it’s done, it’s over.”

“Are you sure?” He mumbles.

“Open your eyes.”

His head slowly rises, eyes remaining shut. Cracking one eye slightly open, he loosens his grip on the handlebars before opening his eyes and letting out a deep sigh of relief.

"That wasn't so bad, right?" You beam, waiting for the restraints to be lifted.

"I wouldn't know, I had my eyes closed the whole time," he shyly admits, lifting the restraint off of him and unbuckling his seatbelt.

You two jump out of your seats, heading towards the gate and bidding the drop tower goodbye, juxtaposing afterthoughts lingering in the air.

"That felt so weird, I don't know if I wasn't able to move or if there wasn't enough time for me to react," he chuckles dryly while twining his hand with yours once again.

You smile, "Probably a little bit of both," you suggest, eyes scanning the park for any signs of a churro stand, "but hey, you survived!"

He smiles at that, teeth out and all, "We both did," he assures earnestly, "and now as an incentive, we are getting churros."

Your eyes light up—the sight of the bright neon sign being the next destination of the night. Jimin notices your sudden reaction, quickly looking in the same direction as you and pinpointing the small churro stand from afar.

To your luck, the line isn't very long—people are most likely preoccupied with the multitude of attractions that are only going to be available for this appropriate time of the year, taking advantage of the opportunity before having to wait for an entire year before getting to experience it all over again. But you and Jimin weren't like most people, and you two strongly believed that churros should be indulged in at any time during any situation. And right now, it was being utilized as a form of consolation, just in the shape of a deep-fried pastry sprinkled with cinnamon sugar.

After obtaining your consolation desserts, you two resume your journey around the park. Too preoccupied indulging in your churro, you’re temporarily able to block out the commotion that was occurring around you, keeping four out of five senses focused on said churro and churro only.

“You feel better?” You ask, taking a brief moment to dust off all the cinnamon and sugar off the corners of your mouth.

“Mmhmph,” he incoherently mumbles, after shoving half a churro into his mouth. He abruptly pauses, cheeks puffed up and eyes wide, realizing he can’t talk and instead he nods with a grin as wide as his mouth would allow him to stretch out.

You giggle at his actions, taking your focus off of him to take another bite.

A few moments later, when most of your churros noticeably nowhere to be seen, you ask, “Where should we go next?”

He cinches his brows together, “We probably shouldn’t go on anything to extreme, considering we just ate. How about the ferris wheel?” He suggests, pointing to the attraction that was standing in front of the two of you.

You nod, “You’re right, these workers already go through enough. And we shouldn’t add cleaning vomit to the list.”

He chuckles, “Agreed. Let’s go, the line is pretty short!” He exclaims jubilantly, flashing you a mega-watt grin while pulling you along with him towards the gated entrance.

Leaning against the gate, you two wait for the round of riders that were currently riding to finish, mindlessly scrolling on your phones to pass the time.

The gate entrance opens, tearing your focus off of your phone and back to reality. The enormous and dazzling neon wheel that stood boldly enveloped your vision in replacement of your dim and dark-mode setted phone screen, making you blink a few times to adjust to its harsh hues.

One of the carts comes to a halt, doors releasing as the group of friends inside it begin to grab their belongings and head out. The worker in charge motions you to step inside after they leave, the two of you following suit. When you two become situated and seated, they press a few buttons on their control panel, the doors promptly swinging close. A few brief seconds after, the cart jolts before moving just enough so the other people behind you could board onto the next cart.

The carts reminded you of the teacup ride at Disneyland—built in a circular shape, seats lined around the border with a small gap made for the entrance door, but of course, it was void of steering wheels in the middle. Now that would just be a recipe for disaster, and a solid segue into Jimin vomiting all over you.

He nudges your leg, “It’s so funny to me.”

You turn to him, “What is?”

“Out of all things to do while being here, and we’re riding the ferris wheel,” he beams, a light chuckle leaving his lips, “I don’t know whether to pity us or not.”

“All my pride has left me already and I’m okay with it,” you tut, lips unwillingly curling upward as you replayed the scenes of what had happened earlier at the drop zone, “I wouldn’t talk too much if I were you Mr. ‘I’m gonna piss my pants.” You tease, poking him in the side.

He scoffs, squirming slightly where you poked him, “I am still proud of myself, I didn’t think I was gonna make it up there.”

You turn away, holding in your laughter, “I didn’t think you were either.”

“Hey! Don’t even get me started on you,” he says, nose scrunching and brows furrowing, “those poor clowns were about to get their noses punched in if it wasn’t for me being there. I think your screams and threats were starting to scare them more than they were scaring me.” He fires back, giggles erupting in his throat and interrupting his words.

“I’m not even gonna argue against that. We are so sad,” you say—laughter flaring up in your chest as well, the two of you keeling over so hard the cart begins to swing back and forth.

“Woah! Woah! Woah! Easy there,” Jimin yelps as you two take notice of the movement and immediately cease your actions, hands grabbing the ends of the cart to try to stabilize it.

Just as your cart has moved up enough for you to start seeing an overhead view of the park, he whips his phone out before saying, “Lemme take a picture of you, the view is so nice here.”

As he whips out his phone, you scoot to the other end of the cart as he brings his phone up to his face and focuses it on you. Naturally, you bring your hand up, hand changing to a trademark peace sign as you flashed a smile for the camera. He brings his phone down many lock screen worthy pictures later, happy with the result evident from the grin etched onto his face.

“Your turn,” you say, motioning you two switch spots as you take your phone out of your pocket.

Jimin, infuriatingly photogenic, simply sits while staring off into the distance, jaw on full display as you begin to rapidly snap pictures. Hearing your camera clicks he changes his position—turning towards you as the chilly wind blows through his hair, eyes crinkling and dazzling smile on full display that you can’t help but smile at the familiar yet all too breathtaking sight.

Placing your phone in your lap, you scoot closer to him—leaning your back against his shoulder, you prop your legs up onto the seats. Turning towards you, he snakes his arms around your waist as his chest comes in contact with your back. You let yourself sink deeper into his grasp, conforming into his body as warmth spreads to your fingertips. Your head lulls back, falling into the space right below his collarbones as you stroke the back of his hands gingerly with the pad of your thumbs. He rests his chin on top of your head, the two of you simply admiring the view below.

The ride still hasn’t started—people still boarding the ride as the carts momentarily halt and move from time to time.

Not long after, your cart reaches the very top.

Head peering over the edge, he turns back, “See, why did we have to go on the drop tower when we could’ve went here instead,” he grumbles, the peak of the tower standing nearly just as tall as the highest point of the ferris wheel to the point where you could stare directly ahead of you without tilting your head.

“Well that takes all the fun out of it,” you tease, making him frown, “Hey! You keep forgetting what you made me go through before that. Don’t think I’ve gotten over it that quickly.”

Looking displeased at your answer, he quirks a brow, “You seemed to be fine when we were riding the tower.”

“What can I say, you make a very good distraction.”

“I think I could say the same for you,” he proposes, “I swear I saw some of those clowns turn away and start laughing every time you threatened them. I was like ‘Yes! That’s my feisty girlfriend!” he cheers, pumping his fists into the air. You cower down in embarrassment, grinning to yourself while trying to swat his arm away.

“I feel so burned out already though,” you say, head falling back into his chest, “I think it’s ‘cause we’re here at night.”

“And because you track-starred your way through that entire maze,” he adds.

“That too.”

“I feel it too, we did more walking than anything else to be honest.” He says, which is very much true. The drop tower was all the way on the other side of the park and the churro stand took you guys a whole twenty minutes just to find.

You hum, “Should we head out after this then?”

He rests his cheek on top of your head, “Yeah, if you want to.”

“I feel bad though, it feels like we just got here,” you admit, chuckling into his arm.

He shakes his head, hands reaching over to play with the ends of your hair, “Don’t feel bad, I think we’re still hungover because of midterms. And besides, I’m hungry and I don’t wanna eat a ten dollar hotdog after just eating a stale ten dollar churro.”

“Yeah, we can just eat one dollar ramen, we’re still college students above everything.”

And you truly couldn’t argue with that. “Of course.”

Taking your hands off of his, you prop a hand onto the cart to sit yourself up onto the seats. He releases his hold on you, his arms returning back to his sides as the warmth of your body dissipates to his dismay.

You adjust your sitting position so you could face him—reaching out to take one of his hands into your own. Your eyes bore into his, gazing into the pools of honey that were his irises. The view is slightly obscured as his eyes crinkle.

He smiles, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

You don’t even register that he’s speaking to you until he leans in slightly, his features starting to appear bigger as he starts to close the gap between you two. You shake your head once he gets so close in proximity that you could see each crinkle that etches themself on the sides of his eyes each time he grins.

Your eyes flicker to his lips, taking notice of the action as you quickly revert back to his eyes. He smirks

“Thank you for taking me here,” you say as your eyes intently gaze into his once more, “above all the trepidation we’ve put each other through tonight, at least we’re here together.”

He nods, gratitude evident without him having to utter a single word. It’s as if time is frozen, everything around you stagnant and still, eyes boring into each other because nothing could just quite compare to this. Not even the surreal view of the city or the ability to see all the bustle within the amusement park or even the stars that littered the sky.

You press your lips against his. Although you initiated the action, the sensation of his lips against yours, regardless of how natural, sends a flurry of shockwaves down your spine. Your body tingles—as if you’re floating and the cart you were sitting on wasn’t even there to support you.

And he kisses you back. His lips are warm, welcoming, and comforting—like wrapping yourself in your favorite blanket in the comforts of your bed, the indescribable bliss as the fabric consumes your body and runs over your skin.

Kissing him felt even more blissful than that.

The kiss isn’t fervent, but it’s full of longing. It’s as if he’s communicating to you, through the way his lips mesh against yours, that he plans on making up for all the lost time. Time that could’ve been spent doing things like kissing you, loving you wholeheartedly and unashamedly, was spent pining for each other with the label of being ‘best friends’ standing in the way for far too long. He wants to make up for it just as much as you do.

He slides his hand under the crevice of your knee, pulling you closer to him as he continues to kiss you. You bring your hand up to his neck, entangling your fingers into his hair as you lightly scratched at the surface of his scalp.

He kisses you like he’ll never get to again, which isn’t completely false—the fact that you two were so high up in the air to the point where the stars look tangible, basking in each other’s presence and each other’s presence only.

Frustrated at the abnormal layout of the seating, he hooks his arms under your legs—hoisting you up and placing you in his lap so you were straddling him—incognizant of how the cart was starting to dip due to the unequal distribution of weight.

The gesture makes you squeak, and you can start to feel him smile against your lips. Before you could do anything else, the cart totters—rocking a few times before moving, signaling that the ferris wheel is finally beginning its journey.

“Oh fuck—!”

“Oh shit—!”

The two of you immediately detach from each other as you take notice of the unbalance, hurriedly leaping onto opposite sides of the cart while gripping onto the sides for dear life, the cart rocking back and forth at a concerning extent. You sneak glances at each other, your faces painted with the same expression of shock and distress.

Seconds pass and the cart steadies—laughter instantaneously taking over the two of you.

“I think that’s our cue to leave,” he says, a little breathless while his body hunched over his seat.

“Remind me the next time we kiss to check if we’re less than a foot above the ground first,” you tease, playfully swatting his knee.

He grabs your hand, pressing a kiss onto your knuckles before shaking your intertwined hands up in the air—obnoxiously shouting into the frigid autumn wind, “Yes chief!”

MASTERLIST

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beewolfwrites · 3 years

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And When I am Formulated, Sprawling on a Pin - Chapter 15: Love and Squalor

Helloo again! Lots of Chishiya in this chapter, because frankly there can never be enough of him.

If you’re only just reading this fic, this is a Chishiya x OC/Reader fanfic, and you can find all the chapters, including this one, here on AO3.

Enjoy :)

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‘Get out.’

The words stung like frost against my bare skin. This coldness was achingly familiar. I had heard it once before on the roof when I had asked about his injury and tried to touch him. Several subject changes later, the distrust had finally thawed. And now, we’d come full circle again.

It was impossible not to stare at the reddened bandage wrapped around his waist. ‘Are you okay?’

‘I didn’t say you could come in here. Get out.’

I blinked away tears, determined not to let him see. There was no way I could go back out there with Niragi was prowling the halls looking for me. I met Chishiya’s stony glare and shook my head.

I’m not going out there.

At that moment, Niragi’s gleeful voice sounded from somewhere in the hallways. ‘Come on out, Shorty, and maybe we can finish what we started. Wouldn’t that be fun?’

Chishiya’s jaw tensed slightly, but only for the briefest second before returning to its apathetic state. Placing the gauze back into the first aid kit, he muttered, ‘get under the bed and don’t make a sound.’

I frowned, silently asking him why.

‘Unless you’d rather be caught by him?’

No. Not that. Anything but that.

Having made my decision, I pulled away from the door and got to the floor. Still clutching the copy of Wuthering Heights in one hand, and almost banging my head on the bedframe, I scrabbled under, making sure to stay away from the edges where someone could see. It was very, very cramped, and claustrophobia was creeping up on me from every recess, but Chishiya must’ve had a reason for telling me to do this. I had to trust in that, even if I didn’t completely trust him.

Several bangs shook the door, and I gulped, knowing exactly who was behind it. It was as if Chishiya had somehow predicted what would happen. There was a rustle of clothes as he zipped up his hoodie before going to open it.

Before Niragi could begin saying anything, Chishiya spoke. ‘Don’t waste your time, she’s not in here.’

‘Oh?’ Niragi sneered. ‘If you know why I’m here, then she must be in here.’

‘Has it occurred to you that the entire Beach can hear you shouting and causing a fuss?’

There was a click, presumably of Niragi’s rifle. ‘Oi, don’t even think about pissing me off. I know she’s in here. She’s your little pal, and she disappeared right around your room.’

I closed my eyes, praying that I could melt away into the darkness under the bed.

There was a slow, annoyed exhale, followed by Chishiya’s voice. ‘You can come in and see for yourself if you want. But there’s no point.’

Don’t invite him in!

I froze, scared even to breathe too loudly. The door creaked as it swung open, and from the slither of light under the bed, I could see Niragi’s boots as he waltzed through the room. He flicked on the lights in the bathroom and peered into the closet, before circling back.

Niragi cocked his rifle, letting out a half-laugh. ‘I guess it doesn’t matter. I’ll see your friend again soon enough, and next time she won’t get far.’

There was a shuffle and a click of the door as the footsteps disappeared. I released the breath I’d been holding, and all my muscles relaxed, sinking into the soft carpet.

He’s gone… for now.

Chishiya’s sandalled feet appeared at the edge of the bed.

‘I’d prefer it if you didn’t stay there all day.’

It was hard to tell whether the irritation in his voice was genuine or just put on to make me uncomfortable. I forced myself to ignore it as I climbed out from under the bed. Chishiya was perched on the end, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie, but his gaze rested on the wall opposite rather than on me.

‘You can’t hide from him forever.’

I sat down on the duvet, awkwardly playing with the book in my hands. ‘I know.��

When I didn’t move, Chishiya finally turned to me. ‘You know you can leave.’

‘I know that too,’ I said. But whether it was because of Niragi, or because of something else, I found that didn’t want to leave. ‘Why don’t I help you? You know, with…’ I gestured to his side.

This time, the coldness had disappeared from his voice, but the distrust was still evident. ‘I don’t need your help.’

The way he phrased it didn’t go unnoticed. It wasn’t that he didn’t need help; he didn’t need my help. I lacked any medical experience to be of use to him, but that didn’t mean I was going to give up. Back in the Hunting Season game, when he’d tumbled over the fence, and I’d felt the weight of him on top of me, I knew he was in serious pain. Chishiya wasn’t a fan of physical contact, so the fact that it had taken him a good minute to get up was what gave him away.

And even then, he’d still trailed around a shopping mall after me.

Even then, he’d held up his end of our bargain.

I could at least try and do this.

‘Fine then,’ I insisted, ‘you can guide me. It can be like a lesson, since I’m more likely to get injured in a game than you. If I know the basics, I won’t need your help again like I did in the pharmacy that time.’

His expression filled with callous amusement. ‘In other words, you feel guilty. And now you’re trying to convince me to let you repay me in some way.’

I knew I’d been obvious in how I felt about what happened, but it still stung to hear him talk about my guilt as though it were one big joke to him. ‘Maybe… is it working?’

‘I suppose if Niragi shoots you, you could patch it up rather than coming to me.’ The words were softly spoken yet calculating. He gestured to a bowl on the bedside table. ‘You need to fill that up with water. Boil a kettle to sterilise it first.’

Does this mean… yes?

Smiling from ear to ear, I told him he wouldn’t regret this. Ditching the book on the bed, I picked up the kettle and filled it with water from the bathroom, leaving it to boil while I washed my hands meticulously using the techniques I’d seen on posters in public bathrooms.

He’s only now trusting me enough to do this, I thought. If it gets infected, he’ll kill me.

I reached for the towel on the back of the door, then stopped. They didn’t use towels in hospitals; it was far too unhygienic. ‘What can I use to dry my hands?’ I called out. ‘Your towels are too germy.’

‘My towels are always clean,’ his voice drawled back in response. ‘And there are gloves here, so it doesn’t make any difference.’ I could practically hear him calling me an idiot just through his tone alone.

When I returned, he was holding out a small box of sterile latex gloves that looked awfully like the ones in the medical room. He must’ve stolen them for himself. He had also removed the old bandages and the dressing underneath, revealing a large tear in the skin beneath his ribs. It was no longer bleeding, but it still looked painful.

‘We’re using water to clean it?’ I asked, taking the kettle and pouring the boiling water into the bowl to sterilise it as much as possible. ‘In the pharmacy you used antiseptic first.’

‘Ah. That’s because I didn’t have water or saline.’ He said, as I disappeared into the bathroom to drain out the hot water and replace it with cool tap water. ‘And also, because I was curious about something.’

He always seems to be curious about something.

‘And what was that?’ I returned, balancing the bowl of water in my lap as I sat close to him on the bed. Close enough that I could see the goosepimples on his arms, and the way his pale hair lightly brushed his skin.

He smirked. ‘I wanted to see whether you would cry.’

Even though I was mildly insulted, I knew there was more to than that. At the time he was trying to recruit me to the Beach, so it was more likely he wanted to see whether I was resilient enough to deal with a bullet graze. ‘And did I pass your little test?’

‘Well… you didn’t cry,’ he said. ‘Although you bit your hand instead, which was just as stupid.’

I was used to him making me feel insignificant by now, but that didn’t mean I was willing to put up with it. ‘You know, calling me stupid is the same as calling me an idiot. And you were the one who said I was intelligent enough to be useful when you brought me to the Beach.’

I took a cloth out of its packaging and submerged it in the bowl to dampen it. Moving slowly and applying only the lightest pressure, I began gently cleaning the wound. With every cold touch of water, his muscles tensed.

‘That’s true,’ he said. ‘And yet you don’t know how to treat a basic injury.’

I couldn’t help but smile.

I suppose even Chishiya can be wrong sometimes.

‘I know how to treat an injury,’ I told him. ‘But I don’t know how to do it properly, and it’s not like we have much modern medicine here to help us.’ I paused, thinking back to before the Borderlands. ‘It’s also because I’m not especially smart.’

His only response was a huff of air as I dabbed the cold rag against his skin, removing traces of dry blood. From his silence, I could only assume he was waiting for me to explain.

‘My brother is a psychologist. He once said to me that being smart doesn’t make you intelligent.’

‘That was smart of him,’ Chishiya commented.

I hummed in agreement. ‘He is smart. My dad never made him feel that way though. He always said my brother wasn’t cut out for psychology. He went and proved him wrong though.’

It was hard to ignore the intimacy of being so close to Chishiya right now. At times, our skin was almost touching, but it never quite made it.

Don’t think about it.

‘But my brother was right about what he said. A smart person might know how to treat a wound because they’ve studied it. They’ll study loads of subjects and gain a lot of practical skills. They ace all the exams because they remember all the answers.’ I paused, smiling. ‘But being intelligent means questioning the answers… looking at thing differently… and when you don’t know something, you’ll find a solution that’s completely outside of the box.’

As I spoke, I could feel Chishiya’s eyes on me, watching my every move. He could have just been wary, except it didn’t feel that way. Rather than his cruel, calculating stare, this seemed closer to passive interest.

‘Take the Borderlands for example,’ I said. ‘A smart person would say that it can’t be God who’s behind all of this craziness, because God doesn’t exist. We’ve seen outer space, and it’s not rational to think that there’s a God out there sitting on the clouds. But an intelligent person would know that even if we can’t prove God exists, we also can’t prove that God doesn’t exist. So, they’ll consider every possibility at once.'

Even just talking about this was comforting. It made me feel like I was carrying my brother’s words with me. I only wished I knew where he was.

Chishiya had been so silent that when he spoke, it completely took me out of my thoughts. ‘And what about me?’ He asked. ‘Would you pin me as smart or intelligent?’

I rinsed the cloth in the now pink water, taking a moment to think my answer through carefully. ‘Probably a crazy mixture of both. Sometimes, I wish I knew what’s going on in your head. Only, I can’t read you at all. It scares me.’

‘Everything scares you.’

‘Okay, okay. Let’s not go there,’ I brought the cloth closer to Chishiya’s skin once more.

‘That’s enough.’ He flinched away from it. ‘The water’s freezing.’

‘An eye for an eye,’ I said, grinning, as I dropped the cloth back into the water. ‘Consider it repayment for trying to make me cry.’

The corner of his mouth curled. ‘Touche.’

Gesturing to a tube of antibiotic ointment, he talked me through the correct amount to use. Even through gloves, touching his skin felt uncomfortably intimate, although perhaps I was just too easily embarrassed. Chishiya didn’t seem to mind, or at least, he didn’t pay it much attention.

‘You never told me why you wanted to make me cry,’ I said, trying to break the ice.

He pointed at a dressing wrapped in clear, sterile packaging. ‘I wanted to gauge whether you would survive in a world like this.’

Bingo! I was right.

‘I thought that much.’ Unwrapping the dressing, I carefully positioned it against his skin so that the sticky edge wouldn’t catch on the wound itself. ‘I’ve survived so far. Isn’t that enough?’

With two fingers, he flicked me hard on the forehead. Caught by surprise, I could only blink up at him, confused, as I rubbed the stinging skin with the back of my wrist.

‘Of course not,’ he replied. ‘It’s only enough when you get to return to the real world. And you’re still too naïve. No wonder Niragi’s made you into such an easy target.’

Immediately, my mood soured at the mention of that name. Niragi wasn’t going to stop until he’d gotten what he wanted, and I was running out of ways to avoid him. ‘What do you think he meant before?’

‘I’ll see your friend again soon enough, and next time she won’t get far.’

The words still echoed in the room. He was planning something.

Chishiya hummed as he pulled his hoodie back on. ‘I have a theory, but it’s almost game time,’ he said. ‘Your visa expires tonight.’

How does he know mine expires?

I raised a brow, confused, but if he noticed, he didn’t ask or explain. Dismissing the thought, I focused instead on how much more at ease I felt now that he was no longer shirtless, even if Chishiya himself didn’t seem to care about being so exposed. Although I kind of wanted to stay and enjoy talking to him more, I didn’t want to push my luck. It was a marvel he had even let me stay this long. Picking up my book, I thanked him for distracting Niragi earlier, and left.

It was only when I got half-way down the hall, staring at the book, that I realised I’d forgotten to ask him about the line of text.

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

As darkness spilled through the windows of my room, I knew it was time. After Niragi’s words earlier, I had a bad feeling about tonight’s game. I couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but I just knew something was off.

To be on the safe side, I took the taser from its drawer and pocketed it before heading down to the lobby.

I squeezed my way to the table at the front and took my slip of paper, making a mental note of the group number. Searching the room, it didn’t take long before I spotted Chishiya and Kuina on the other side. They were leaning against a wall and staring at something I couldn’t see. I scanned over the crowds until I realised what, or whom, they were looking at.

The boy with messy hair and the climber girl from the Tag game.

Looks like those two teamed up, huh?

Walking towards Kuina and Chishiya, I leaned up against the wall, but said nothing as I watched the pair.

Chishiya clocked onto my presence immediately. ‘So, you’ve noticed them too.’

The climber girl and the boy hugged before parting ways. ‘Of course. I remember them from the Five of Spades.’ Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the cogs in Chishiya’s mind turning. ‘You’re planning something, aren’t you?’

‘Perhaps,’ he said. ‘It all depends on how he does tonight. Hatter’s already impressed by the cards he brought with him.’

I didn’t like the look on his face. It was clear he was already creating some kind of strategy, a way of using the boy and the climber girl within our plan. That’s just what Chishiya did; he used you to his advantage and dispatched you without a second thought. It was side of him that scared me, and it made me wonder where I stood. Was I his friend, like Kuina, or perhaps just a dish kept in the cupboard for him to take out and use whenever the occasion suits.

But he gave me those books and a taser to protect myself.

He also patched up my arm in the pharmacy, and later admitted that it was merely a ploy to recruit me to the Beach. Looking at him now, I only wished I knew how to read him.

What am I to you?

‘Kuina,’ he said, breaking the silence that had fallen between us, ‘you’re in the same group as him.’

Next to me, Kuina made a noise of understanding as she already knew what was being asked of her. ‘Leave it to me. I’ll make friends with him and see what he’s made of.’ Nudging me gently, she added. ‘Sorry we couldn’t be in a game together.’

I squeezed her hand. ‘Just make sure you come back.’

‘Got it,’ Wish me luck!’ Then with a little wave, she left us alone.

Looking over the room, I wondered who else was in my group. It would be better if my group consisted of people I’d never seen or spoken to before, just in case the unthinkable happened. When Kuina had apologised for not being in the same game, I hadn’t felt sorry at all. It was much, much better this way.

There was a shuffle of fabric as Chishiya slid closer, filling the gap where Kuina had been. When he spoke, his voice was low and quiet. ‘結局俺の理論が正しいだった.’

The words caught me by surprise; he didn’t usually speak to me in Japanese unless it was to mock me behind my back.Unfortunately, I didn’t understand anything other than the word for ‘correct’.

What was correct? His theory from earlier?

‘どういう意味か?’ I asked. What do you mean?

Even though he was speaking to me, he was focused on a particular spot on the opposite wall, his eyes amused and sly. ‘そのテーザーをあるか?’ Do you have that taser?

And without having to look, everything clicked.

Lifting my head, I saw my fate resting on the other side of the room. That feeling of dread from earlier returned, creeping over my shoulder and settling heavy in my gut. Niragi was leaning against a wall, his expression triumphant and his eyes trained on me. It could only mean one thing.

This is going to be one hell of a game.

#alice in borderland #aib #chishiya #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya x oc #chishiya x reader #chishiya alice in borderland #imawa no kuni no arisu

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rudysrings · 4 years

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Twin Pogues of the OBX - 1

A/N + Summary: SO I’m currently obsessed with the Outer Banks right now, and I had no idea that there was so much hype about it until I hit tumblr after watching the show. It kind of got me back into writing for a bit so I thought I would go ahead and publish something that’s been sitting in my drafts. It’s essentially a fanfic that goes through the entire show from the perspective of the reader, who is John B’s twin sister. Let me know if it piques anyone’s interest, because I don’t want to keep pushing out something that people hate lol.

Warnings: Mentions of sex, cursing, slowburn

Word count: 3056

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ON WITH IT!

You didn’t want to admit it, but you were tired of listening to the waves. It made you sick to your stomach. It didn’t help that the Chateau was so close to the water that it was all you could hear at night. The waves crashing on the shore. The waves colliding with each other. The waves fighting to topple boats that made the mistake of trying to take on a storm too big for them.

You listened for your father in every wave. You hoped you’d at least hear the ghost of your father.

Unlike John B, you had no hope that your father was alive. At first, you didn’t bother voicing that thought, but as time went on, and John B continued to have delusions, you started getting more and more vocal about your opinion. Your dad was dead. Period.

And it was time that John B accepted that, too.

The two of you may have been twins, but you were as different as two people could get. John B was, for the most part, quiet, reserved and mild. You, on the other hand, had a fuse shorter than the short end of the stick you had pulled. You were hot headed and often misjudged situations too quickly. John B was the calm before your storm. You preferred to call yourself passionate. You smoked, John B did not. You slept around with far too many tourons. John B did not. John B was a dense motherfucker. You could read the room the moment you walked in. The only thing that really bonded the two of you was your love for surfing, your love for the pogues and your love for your dad.

Now that one of those things had died, or simply “vanished,” as John B would say, all that was keeping your two member family together were the pogues and surfing.

The last few months had been hell, and all you wanted this summer, was to have a good time, all the time.

Speaking of which, you and the pogues had decided to break in the summer with a little rule-breaking. Kiara wanted to check out one of Gary’s new beach-house developments, which was being built right over a turtle habitat. You all shrugged at the suggestion and agreed.

You threw a can of beer up, JJ catching it instantly, wrinkling his nose when he looked at the label. “This is the shit stuff, Y/N,” he complained.

You rolled your eyes. “Next time I’ll boot-leg champagne for ya, sweetheart,” you drawled.

JJ winked. “That’s more like it.”

Rolling your eyes, you tossed two beers to Pope, which he promptly dropped and bent down to grab, dusting himself off, embarrassed.

You rolled your eyes, watching as he threw one to John B, who was far too drunk to hold onto it, dropping it on the deck of the house, causing it to burst.

Before you could comment on Kie’s overly concerned “Please don’t kill yourself,” to John B, you heard voices yelling “Hey! What are you kids doing up there?!”

“Shit,” You said, looking for your hat.

“I second that shit,” said Pope nervously.

John B swiftly made his way down, grabbing Kie’s hand and leading them out, Pope on their heels.

“Guys, have you seen my-”

Suddenly, you felt something slip over your head, and you smiled up at JJ, who patted the top of your head and pushed you down the stairs and out of the house, all five of you laughing as Gary and his men chased after you.

As John B jumped the fence, he held his hand out to help Kie over, doing the same for you once she made it. You rolled your eyes, slapping his hand away and smoothly making it over yourself.

Pope, as expected, fell over onto the ground as he jumped, JJ shoving him further jokingly. You glared at the boy, and he held his hands up as you helped Pope up, pulling him by the hand into a sprint.

JJ held his hand out of John B’s beat up old van, pulling your laughing body in. Pope closed the door as John B gunned it, but you opened it again, teasing Gary, who was struggling to catch up with you guys.

You tossed him a beer, which he tried to catch, but failed as he stopped running, his hands on his knees.

JJ laughed as he too leaned out of the van, “They don’t pay you enough, bro!” He yelled to Gary.

Your hair blew in the wind, strands of it tickling JJ’s cheeks.

He spat overdramatically, coughing, “Hey, uh, Y/N? You mind not choking me with your hair?”

You simply gave him a playful punch in the gut, taking a seat in between Kie’s knees, who was sitting on the bench behind John B.

Kie took your long, wild hair in her hands, taming it into a french braid. JJ watched with a goofy smile on his face, his conversation with Pope getting too boring.

John B drove down to the docks, where you guys took out the HMS Pogue for the rest of the day. You tried to slap the book out of Kie’s hands, holding a freshly rolled blunt out for her to share with you, but she glared at you, turning back to her reading. You noticed Pope doing the same thing.

JJ grabbed the blunt from your hands, lighting it.

You leaned an elbow on his shoulder, tutting. “Didn’t realize we ran with a bunch of nerds…”

Before Kie and Pope could retort, John B turned around, releasing a pile of freshly caught fish onto the deck of the boat and you cheered. “Nice, John B. We eatin’ good, today.”

“Yeah we are. You’re cooking.”

“I’m what?”

John B smiled smugly, “I did the catching, you do the cooking.”

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest, “Fine then I’ll also do more of the eating.”

“I never agreed to that,” John B argued.

You turned to him, “And that’s because you’re a greedy, cocksucking parasite and-”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. We’re here to have fun, you guys,” said Kie, her hands out to the two of you.

“Man, I’d really like to go one day without you guys at each other’s goddamn throats,” Pope groaned.

“Forget the fish, there’s a party tonight. First summer party. We gotta be there,” said JJ.

“Hell yeah, I’ll take a touron dick appointment over fish and chips any day,” you put your hands on your hips, looking at the rest of the pogues.

John B rolled his eyes at your blunt words, while Pope and Kie shrugged, agreeing.

Everyone looked to John B and he sighed before saying, “Yeah, I’m down.”

You all cheered, running over and piling on top of him, laughing.

The party was one of the best you had been to yet. While Kiara got on her soapbox about plastic and the boys were looking for girls to flirt with, you were on the hunt for someone who could make your night count.

As you waited in line at the keg to fill up your cup, the guy behind you spoke up. “You look too good to be hanging around the cut.” He flirted.

Your blood boiled as you turned around to get in this guy’s face. You stopped short once you saw what a nice face it was. You weren’t shallow, just… horny. “Am I now?” You smiled slightly.

He nodded, “Oh yes, too good for North Carolina even. The likes of you belong in Hollywood, babe.”

He had neatly trimmed blonde hair and striking blue eyes. Guess you had a type, after all, you thought fleetingly.

“Wow, can I get a name, kind stranger?” You flashed your teeth.

“It’s Asher ma’am, and you are?”

You shrugged, handing your cup to the guy near the keg, who handed it back within a second, full. You put your hand on Asher’s cheek, tapping it as one would a small child, “Oh, sweetheart, you gotta earn that.”

Asher’s eyebrows rose, walking with you down the beach. “How might I go about that?” He asked, suggestively.

You smirked. “It’s not how, honey, it’s where.”

And that was all you needed to let this guy rock your world that night.

You woke up alone the next morning in the hammock outside the Chateau, having crashed there after the party. Groaning, you rolled over until you fell on the ground, struggling to pick yourself up. John B appeared out of nowhere, helping you up.

He handed you some water, which you downed immediately, his hand on your back.

“You alright, kid?” He asked. You nodded, “Yeah, I just need a shower like yesterday,” You moaned.

John B nodded, slapping your shoulder. “Next time don’t drink so much, eh?”

You rolled your eyes, flipping him off as you walked inside. You were heading to the bathroom when you passed John B’s bedroom. You noticed JJ, half-naked and leaning over some blonde on your brother’s bed, his forehead practically touching hers. He noticed you instantly. Some emotion flashed across his face before he glared. “Dude, come on. Get outta here,” he said and you smirked.

“Get some, JJ,” you encouraged, barely dodging the pillow he hurled at you as you shut the door.

As you walked into the bathroom, you couldn’t understand why your stomach lurched when you thought about what JJ was probably doing with that blonde in John B’s bed. You shrugged, it was probably just the alcohol.

That afternoon, you and John B had an appointment with social services, who basically confirmed that you two would be put in foster care after they confirmed that your uncle wasn’t home to look after you two tomorrow.

As John B expected, you didn’t take it well. To your credit, you kept it together in the social worker’s office, but you practically had a meltdown the moment you stepped foot outside.

“How can they just fucking take us away! What did we even do wrong? It’s not our fucking fault Uncle T decided to split! Can’t they see that we’re better off on our goddamn own, John B?!”

John B shrugged. “Not much we can do, Y/N. It’s the law.”

At that, your breaths came even faster, “But it’s not fair, John B! What if-What if they split us up?” You were almost hyperventilating now, pulling your own hair.

John B furrowed his eyebrows, pulling you into a hug. “They’re not going to do that. I’m not going to let that happen, Y/N, you hear me?”

You pushed him away from you, “We’ll see, John B.”

The two of you caught a break. Hurricane Agatha came in the same day DCS was supposed to do your assessment. Your mind immediately went to the sick waves that would be forming. You tugged on John B’s shirt, pulling him away from the TV, “Call DCS and call them to reschedule. And then grab your surfboard.” Your grin stretched across your whole face, your eyes probably wild.

John B looked confused, then concerned. “You can’t be serious. There’s a hurricane?”

“Dead serious.” You crossed your arms. “Like you can resist these waves.”

John B shrugged. “Yeah, I’m in.”

The two of you ran out to the ocean, the dark clouds and harsh winds not fazing you, Pope having bailed on you guys, claiming that these weren’t surfable waves.

As you surfed the waves, constantly getting wiped out due to their sheer size and speed, you couldn’t help the thought: Did a wave like this kill Dad?

John B tried to surf a few waves, but he lacked not only your skill, but also your tenacity. He gave up and simply watched you from his seat on his board.

When you noticed a clearly fancy boat being tossed around in the waves, you pointed it out to John B, who squinted, trying to make it out. He agreed that it was strange. Who would go out in a storm like this?

The next morning, after surveying the damage that Agatha had caused, John B suggested that you guys go fishing, given the likeliness that there would be a whole lot of fish to catch in the marsh today.

Happy to put off cleaning up for a day and high on the fact that DCS wouldn’t be able to catch a ferry down here for at least a couple of days, you agreed.

After practically kidnapping Pope from his dad and picking up Kiara, the five of you drove down to the marsh, Pope steering.

Giggling, you pulled JJ by the hand up to the bow of the HMS Pogue and handed him one of the beers that Kiara had brought. He smirked and held it up along with you as he shouted for Pope to go faster. Pope groaned. “We’ve tried this like six thousand times.”

You shook your head. “I’ve got this. It’s gonna work.”

And it did. Kind of. You and JJ were downing your beers, Kiara complaining that it was getting in your hair. You looked over at JJ from your peripheral and smiled slightly at his silly face, mouth open like a fish as he attempted to get all of the beer that was being hurled out of the bottle.

Until the boat lurched to a sudden stop, catapulting you and JJ into the air. You felt your entire body flip as you fell into the water with a loud crash, water surrounding your ears. You broke the surface immediately, blinking against the sunlight. “Fuuuck,” you groaned.

You felt JJ reach you, wrapping an arm around your waist. “You good?” You nodded at him, resting your hands on his shoulders as you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

John B called out, “You good, Y/N? JJ?”

“I think my heels touched the back of my head,” JJ groaned.

You swam back to the boat, JJ right behind you. “Pope, what did you do?” You asked.

Pope looked as confused as the rest of you guys. “Sandbar. Channel changed.”

As you made it onto the boat, JJ pulled himself up, too, saying, “No shit.”

As your clothes were soaked, you slid your shorts and t-shirt off, leaving you in your teal halter bikini.

You didn’t miss how JJ’s eyes dragged up your figure, his ears turning pink when he reached your eyes and realized you noticed.

Biting your lip to keep from laughing, you turned to Pope, who had his eyes on something in the water.

“Guys...I think there’s a boat down there,” He said.

John B scoffed, “Shut up.”

Kie smiled, “No way.”

But Pope didn’t let up, “No, no, guys. I’m serious. There’s a boat down there.”

You all leaned over the side of the boat and sure enough, there was a large shadow, vague, but obviously in the shape of the hull of a boat.

“Holy shit. He’s right; let’s go!” You said, jumping into the water.

As you swam towards the shadow, you heard Pope muse, “You think there’s a dead body down there?”

You couldn’t stop your subconscious from immediately thinking Dad.

You almost threw up at the thought of stumbling across your own father’s drowned corpse.

But you knew that if that was the case, you would handle it far better than John B. You swam faster, trying to get down there before him.

The five of you made your way to the boat, your eyebrows raising against the water as you saw what kind of boat it was. This was a rich guy’s boat for sure. You recognized it as the boat from yesterday. You all took a peek inside, but couldn’t make out a body. You sighed aloud, bubbles releasing in the water.

As you guys resurfaced, you all laughed.

“That’s a Grady-White,” JJ laughed in shock, “A new one of those is like 500 Gs, easy.”

You guys climbed back into the boat. John B gave you a look. “That’s the boat we saw when we surfed the surge. Maybe it hit the jetty or something.”

Kie looked confused. “You surfed the surge.”

You smirked. “Well… I surfed the surge. John B mostly just watched.” Your brother rolled his eyes but he didn’t correct you.

JJ was getting on the boat when he heard you say that and his entire face lit up. “Yeah, that’s my girl, pogue style,” he said, giving you a high-five.

You grinned back, your stomach involuntarily tumbling at the words my girl.

“Fuck,” you whispered to yourself. Kie noticed, shooting you a look.

You blushed, looking away.

Pope asked, “Wait, wait, do we know who’s boat that is?”

John B opened the hatch on the deck of the boat, looking for the anchor inside. “No. but we’re about to find out.”

JJ shook his head, “Dude, it’s too deep.”

“Only for the weak and feeble, JJ,” John B said.

“Well, I’m not resuscitating you. I’m just making that clear up front.”

You worried that there could still be a body down there. Your father’s body. John B couldn’t see that. Plus, something about the thought of diving felt like a challenge. You took the anchor from John B’s hands. “I’ll go,” You said.

“What the fuck, no Y/N,” said John B.

JJ grabbed your upper arm, “Yeah, not a good idea,” he said.

You shook him off lightly. “I’m doing it,” you insisted.

JJ shrugged. “Well, I wouldn’t mind resuscitating you,” he joked.

You rolled your eyes, “You wouldn’t even know how.”

JJ smirked, “Yeah, but I have experience with-”

Pope interjected as you walked to the edge. “Diver down, fool,” he shook his head in slight disappointment. But then again, when was Pope not disappointed in you?”

JJ came over to you. Looking you hard in the eyes, he gave you a questioning look. You steeled your eyes. “I’m ready.”

He smirked, “You better be.” He gave you a shove on your shoulders, pushing you backwards off the bow of the boat and you could hardly hear him say “Diver down,” and John B say, “The fu-” before the water hit you, swallowing you whole as you quickly sunk with the weight of the anchor.

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cheri-translates · 4 years

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[CN] Victor’s Fencing Date (Eng Translation)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date, 击剑约会, which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

Do note that this date features S2 Victor, but doesn’t contain S2 spoilers.

[ This date was released in CN on 28 Sep 2020 ]

The date begins on a weekend, with MC at a fencing trial class. The coach just left her to do warm ups

MC signed up for the class because she developed a sudden interest in fencing after watching a competition on television

She notes how fencing involves agility, quick judgement calls, and maintaining a knightly demeanour

Elegant. Swift. A single, certain strike...

MC: I keep thinking it’s a little bit like Victor.

I mumble aloud accidentally before hastily returning to my senses.

This fencing hall is the most professional training hall open to the public in Loveland City. In the surroundings are adept students, and the coaches give oral commands mostly in French.

Although warm ups don’t require me to don the full attire, I carefully put on the face mask since I’m a newbie and somewhat at a loss.

After a while, someone walks over to me suddenly. He’s very tall, donned in full attire, and he stands before me.

Before I can react, he speaks.

??: Hello. Coach Lin asked me to come here.

My coach’s surname happens to be Lin as well, so I make a guess that perhaps this is his assistant for today. As such, I nod amicably in acknowledgement.

For some reason, I find this person’s aura slightly familiar...

??: Etes-vous prêts?

[Note] In French, this means “Are you ready?”

His voice is slightly muffled from the mask. I freeze for a moment before realising that he seems to be asking if I’m ready.

MC: Oui.

[Note] In French, this means “Yes.”

He nods, then returns to the starting line, raising his fencing sword and saluting to me.

I tilt my head to take a look, then mimic his pose to return the salute.

In the next second, he suddenly points the fencing sword towards me, and lunges over quickly.

MC: !

A silver light flashes before me. I instinctively retract my arm to cover my face, shifting backwards by a few steps.

One second. Two seconds. Three seconds... the feeling of being hit doesn’t come.

??: Beginner?

Hearing his voice, I slowly put down my hands, nodding awkwardly.

??: Sorry, I was mistaken.

His tone once again gives me a sense of familiarity. Before I get to ask, Coach Lin returns.

When he sees our swords facing each other, he’s stunned for a while, but quickly reveals a knowing expression.

MC: Coach...

Coach Lin smiles at me, then greets the person opposite in a friendly manner.

Coach Lin: Mr Victor, you’re here.

MC: ...Mr Victor?

Could this person be...

As though the both of us are seeking to verify something, we take off our masks at the same time.

My fringe rides up along with the mask. While I hurriedly smoothen it down, I look at the person before me.

That person’s hair has also been messed up. He casually lifts his hand to pat down the slightly curled up strands, revealing the pair of eyes I’m most familiar with.

MC: Victor!

Victor: It’s you?

Coach Lin: The two of you know each other?

Victor nods, turning to Coach Lin, who is standing at the side.

Seeing that both of us have no idea what to make of this matter, Coach Lin smiles apologetically, and starts to explain.

It turns out Victor is a regular visitor here, and has always been Coach Lin’s partner.

However, as he had to take charge of the trial class, Coach Lin had arranged for another coach for Victor, who Victor had mistaken me for.

Coach Lin: There, the coach should be at the second fencing lane.

Coach Lin identifies the coach to Victor, and I follow his line of sight. It’s a young female coach.

Victor: Got it.

Although Victor says this, he doesn’t seem to have any intention of leaving. Coach Lin looks at the both of us, slightly hesitant.

I clear my throat, breaking the silence.

MC: Coach Lin, the two of you have been partners for so long. Why don’t you duel with Victor? I could have a class with that coach instead. Anyway, I’m just a student from the trial class, so there’s no need to trouble so many people.

Coach Lin: Our rules prohibit having replacement classes at short notice. She doesn't have any classes scheduled today, so...

Coach Lin seems to be in a bind.

Victor: What if it isn’t a coach?

I freeze. Victor glances at me, speaking softly to Coach Lin.

After a moment of hesitation, Coach Lin finally smiles and nods.

Coach Lin: I’ll have to trouble you then.

Coach Lin nods in my direction, leaving soon after. Puzzled, I look at Victor.

MC: Why did the coach leave? What did you say to him?

Victor: I told him that this student is difficult to teach, so I’ll do it for him.

MC: You sure know how to manipulate...

MC: Wait. Who says that I’m difficult to teach!

Victor ignores my quibble, looking at me with his arms crossed.

Victor: Why did you think of learning fencing?

MC: I heard that fencing can train one’s reaction and judgement speed, so I wanted to give it a try.

Victor: You should train them. But these aren’t things that can be gleaned simply from sports.

MC: If you’re the teacher, I just might be able to glean them!

Victor: Looks like you have a large ambition this time.

I laugh while taking a step back, raising the fencing sword and giving him a serious salute.

MC: Is CEO Victor willing to impart his skills to me?

The corners of Victor’s lips curl as well, and a familiar phrase drifts to my ear.

Victor: It depends on how you perform.

Victor teaches MC some foundational moves using a dummy model

MC notes how Victor makes movements look casual even though they are very tiring

I take a breath, recalling his earlier demonstration, lunging forward in a large step.

Although my feet are slightly unsteady, the fencing sword hits the dummy model.

MC: I did it!

I turn to him happily, and happen to catch a sliver of a smile on his face which disappears in the next second.

Victor: When you strike with the sword, don’t move your wrist.

MC: ...okay.

I secretly purse my lips, and a soft laugh floats to my ear.

Victor: You weren’t bad just now. Do it again on your own three more times.

His “teaching” style and the one in my memory are exactly the same. There aren’t many pointers, but they always hit the nail on the head.

I follow his instructions obediently, the sword and the dummy’s metal attire meeting with clanging sounds.

The repeated movements are a little boring, so I try engaging Victor in a conversation while he supervises me from the side.

MC: Victor, Coach Lin mentioned that you’re a regular visitor. Have you been practicing for long?

Victor: I guess so. When I have time, I’ll come by once every week.

MC: No wonder you’re so professional.

Victor: It’s just a pastime, so it doesn’t count as being professional. Although when it comes to teaching you, it’s something I’ve done more than enough times.

I meet his teasing gaze, and stop my actions in defiance.

MC: Don’t underestimate me too much. Who knows, I might have "peculiar bones”, and might discover your weak points!

[Note] I translated “unique skeleton” from 骨骼清奇 (“gu ge qing qi”), which is part of a quote from an action-comedy movie called Kung Fu Hustle. The full quote is: “I think your bones are peculiar. You are a martial arts prodigy.”

Victor: Looks like you’re very confident now. I wonder how you’ll fare in the next test.

Victor walks across the middle line, puts on his mask, then lifts his sword.

Victor: If you want to find my weak spots, try scoring some points from me. Once you’re ready, we’ll begin.

I gulp, slightly nervous. But this time, Victor doesn’t advance for a long time. He simply waits at the other end.

Perhaps due to my reaction being overly exaggerated when faced with his attack earlier, he is exceptionally patient this time.

As a “student” who was carefully taught by him, I’m determined not to disappoint him.

I take aim at potential areas of attack, then lunge forward, crossing the middle line.

As though wanting to exert more pressure on me, he takes a few steps forward.

The few seconds seem to become infinitely long as the distance lessens, causing his smooth movements to slow down.

He bends his arm, ready to strike. In the moment before he straightens his arm, I act first, lunging towards his elbow.

MC: I hit it!

Victor: Very good. Continue.

After experiencing it once, Victor no longer waits at his original spot to wait for me.

He doesn’t take large strides, but still easily blocks my way, and I have no choice but to pull back.

Guessing that I’d be stepping out of the boundary if I keep retreating, I grit my teeth, taking a few frantic steps towards him.

Victor seems to freeze for a moment, but very quickly shifts backwards to avoid my threat.

Victor: You’re very bold in taking risks.

MC: Haha, it’s more like sinking my own boat...

Victor: In that case, don’t waste this opportunity.

I try to settle myself, my vision gradually becoming clearer with our ever increasing proximity.

Victor maintains a defensive posture as he faces me, but his abdomen area below his arm doesn’t seem to be guarded.

Perhaps this was a weak spot he specially left open for me, and I just happened to notice it.

But a faraway memory suddenly surfaces in my mind, resulting in a headache. Although I know that it’s unrelated to the current situation, it leaves me halting in my footsteps.

Victor: What are you hesitating about?

Victor suddenly speaks up. Startled, it’s as though I’m jolted from a dream.

The distance between us has closed. Based on a conditioned reflex, I instantly step backwards, but am too late.

With a slight tap on my chest, a tiny hollow appears on the fabric.

Victor: You lost.

I lift my head, and can vaguely make out his brilliant gaze from the holes in the mask.

He moves the sword away very quickly, but my heart beat doesn’t calm down.

Several emotions are blending together. Together with the echo left in my heart from the hit, I’m left frozen to the spot for a very long time.

Seeing that I’m not speaking, Victor removes his mask, bending over to observe my expression.

Victor: What’s wrong?

MC: ...nothing. My mind accidentally wandered off earlier.

Victor: There’s no need to be too apprehensive. You’re just following the rules.

I nod. Victor hesitates for a moment, then pats the top of my head, which is separated by the mask.

Victor: You need to be more resolute. Opportunities and risks co-exist. Don’t let it slip away to your opponent.

His tone becomes more gentle. His dark coloured eyes reflect my profile.

Even when he’s consoling people, he remains deadpan. But precisely because of this, his consolation is all the more effective.

I adjust the mask, pumping myself up again.

MC: I’ve got it. Could Teacher Victor give me another chance?

Victor laughs, putting on his mask again.

Victor: Just this once.

He gives her some advice and she tries it out, poking his outfit with the sword timidly

MC: Like this?

Just as I’m about to ask if I’m doing it correctly, I lift my head to find that we are standing very close to each other.

The soft laugh and slightly lilted tone initially hidden behind the mask finally drift to my ear clearly.

Victor: This time, I’ll consider it as you scoring the point.

The class experience is over. While I’m wiping my sweat with a towel, Coach Lin walks over.

Coach Lin: Are the two of you taking a break?

Victor nods. He receives the bottles of water from Coach Lin, then hands me one.

Coach Lin: Thank you for your help today, Mr Victor. Shall we have a match before you leave?

Victor turns to me, giving me a look over.

Victor: I won’t trouble you today. We’ll leave it till next time. A certain student is too physically weak, so she has to return early to rest.

I frantically tuck strands of sweat drenched hair behind my ear.

MC: It’s just that the masks made it a little warm earlier. I’ll be fine after resting at the side for a while. It must have been slightly boring having to teach me all this time. Have a good duel - I can observe and learn from your example.

Victor stares at me for another moment. He sighs lightly, then hands me the bottle of water in his hand.

Victor: Since you want to learn, watch carefully. Your mind isn’t allowed to wander.

The duel commences

MC never takes her eyes off him

Elegant. Swift. A single, certain strike...

This sport really suits him.

The spectating students comment on the match

As compared to the Victor who accompanied me to practice, the him before my eyes seems to have become a completely different person.

Although the mask and attire serve to conceal his features...

I can still sense the strength underneath the wrinkles of his fabric, and the pressure exerted when he made his quick assault.

So this is what a true confrontation looks like.

If he were to have free rein in his assault, he wouldn’t lose at all.

The scoreboard buzzes again. Victor and Coach Lin look at it, then shake hands.

After the two men part from the middle line, I finally look at the scores.

MC: He won!

Although he won by only a few points, the spectators and I can't help but applaud.

Cheers resound. Victor removes his mask, walking straight towards me.

Drops of sweat glide off the side of his face, the tips of his hair sticking onto his forehead.

At this moment, the eyes that are always cold and restrained have become illuminated by the lights. They radiate with an impressive light.

When I gaze at him, I can’t help but laugh even more happily.

Victor: What’s with your foolish laughter?

MC: Because you’ve won!

Victor: I recall you mentioning that you’d be observing and and learning from example. What did you learn?

I’m rendered speechless. From a technique point of view, I didn’t observe any tricks...

MC: At least I could tell that this match was very exciting. It makes one...

Want to cheer for you.

I don’t say the second half of the sentence aloud. But from the smile in Victor’s eyes, I know he definitely understands what I mean.

He takes the bottle of water in my hands naturally, and I take the sword in his.

Amid the clamour in our surroundings, his deliberately lowered voice drifts to my ears.

Victor: Being able to understand the match - to you, it’s not an easy feat. But, thank you.

After changing out of our attire, Victor and I head to the front counter to return the equipment.

He converses with the staff in a familiar manner, while my mind keeps returning to the earlier match.

I rarely see such a nimble and driven Victor. But that profile overlaps with several moments in my memory.

When he rejected my application for an investment. When he kicked open the door when I was trapped in the darkness. When he calmly held onto my hand when faced with difficulties...

He has never changed. No matter what identity he takes on, he’s competent in all of them.

No matter what, he seems to always be running ahead of me.

At this moment, the staff returns our cash deposit, and Victor hands me my bag.

Victor: What are you thinking about?

I turn to look at him.

MC: I always feel like as long as you put your mind to it, there doesn’t seem to be anything that can defeat you.

Victor: Not necessarily. Didn’t you “defeat” me just now?

MC: That’s only because you lost intentionally...

Victor: I won’t lose intentionally to any opponents. I just made some adjustments according to your standard.

MC: ...does this mean I still have some hidden potential? In that case, could Teacher Victor continue teaching me?

Victor: There is no such thing as a free lunch.

I think deeply on what I could offer as remuneration.

MC: If I manage to learn it properly, I can help you “attack” next time, and shoulder more burdens for you.

Victor glances at me with surprise, but he quickly smoothens his expression.

Victor: If you want to share burdens with me, this meagre effort won’t suffice.

MC: ?

Victor arches his brows.

Victor: Or were you just full of hot air earlier?

I look into his eyes. As though wanting to prove something, I straighten my back.

MC: Of course it’s not just hot air. I’ll come here to practice often. Someday, I’ll be like Coach Lin, becoming your genuine opponent. Maybe I’ll triumph over you even when you don’t lose intentionally.

Victor glances at me, the corners of his lips lifting upwards.

Victor: This declaration - I’ll remember it. I’ll wait for you to surpass me.

We walk towards the entrance of the hall together, the sunlight outside encasing us.

Time seems to slow down, enabling me to distinctly remember how it feels like to walk next to him.

We still have countless tomorrows, allowing me to tread in his shadow, step by step, returning to his side.

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc victor

138 notes · View notes

papermoonish · 3 years

Text

when the weather changed

"Wait for me!"

"Shit, it was so nice out at lunch," Kirishima whines, stopping in the doorway.

"That’s fucking autumn for you."

"Don’t curse a whole season, you'll get unlucky."

autumn brings weather changes and simple sweetness. for kirishima and bakugou it comes first in the shape of friends and then each other

read on AO3 or keep reading here

Kiri is on the roof of the school building. There are mesh fences keeping the small spot up in the air secluded - safe. He's sitting on the floor, his back to the wall hiding the staircase, eyes closed and head leaning against the concrete.

The air tastes like crisp autumn, fresh and cold with the promise of warmth tingling. Maybe tomorrow, maybe later. The door opens and Kirishima straightens up, opens his eyes and reaches for his water bottle. With two quick movements he looks busy. Nothing weird going on here.

"Hey man," he smiles, and Denki waves back.

"Yo dude. I was looking everywhere for you."

Denki drops besides him, loose and easy. His shoulder brushes Kirishima's as he’s reaching for the food in Kiri's lap, stealing a small piece of pre-cut sausage. He's warm, body slumping against his friend with a content sigh.

"Ah sorry! What's up?”

Denki pops his lips, pulls up his phone and scans the screen quickly before tapping away on it. He's sitting cross-legged, his knee occasionally bumping against Kiri's thigh. He steals another piece of sausage and chews it a little too loudly but it’s okay. Kirishima appreciates the company.

"Didn’t see you at lunch and thought you might've run away with a hot girl into a future unknown.”

Kirishima snorts and shakes his head, red hair doesn’t move an inch. Next to him Denki cracks his knuckles, but only the ones on his left hand.

"In the middle of a Monday?”

"Who am I to question the timely manners of love, bro."

"Bro."

They laugh and the wind picks up a bit, messing up Denki's hair. As he tries to fix it he lets out a loud groan. Kiri reaches up to tuck a few strands back with the others.

"Nah dude, I'd never leave you behind."

"You better won’t. Blasty would have my ass if he heard you got away and I knew."

There’s an implication between the words, simmering right in the space left after them. Kirishima blinks and shakes it off, smiles until the dimple on his right cheek shows up.

"He has your ass for everything. He owns it."

"HE DOES NOT OWN MY ASS!"

Kiri giggles, downs the rest of his water and rubs his nose. The movement causes Denki to sway a bit, still leaning on his friend. He catches himself and sits up, wiggling his eyebrows.

"That's gay," he snickers.

"Denki-"

"No Ei,” he raises his hands in defeat, pouting, “I simply do not wanna think about Bakugou in a sexual way."

"That’s not even close to what I said."

"It was IMPLIED!"

"IT WASN’T!"

They’re shoving at each other now, laughing and the water bottle drops, rolls away across the deck. The rest of Kirishima's lunch nearly falls too, but just at the last second he remembers and puts it aside. Seeing an opening, Denki throws himself at Kirishima and they both topple over. Denki is snorting, Kiri is chuckling. The sun shines.

"EW, DUDE!"

The wet stripe Denki licked across Kirishima's palm glistens in the autumn weather and Kiri is fast to wipe it at Denki's dress shirt.

"You're so gross."

"Excuse me? You have a crush on Bakugou, that's nasty!"

"Ughh,” Kirishima hides his face in his hands, “don’t bring that up."

"You can't censor me, this is a free country."

Their laughter fades at the same time as the sunshine, covered by a few thin clouds moving across the blue. Lunch is coming to an end and Kiri hears Denki's bones pop from stretching his hands. A rumble in the sky makes a few birds fly up and the boys look up.

"I- … uh-"

Denki rolls onto his side and makes a whole show of getting up, like standing is a dance he owns. He cracks his neck and Kirishima cringes at the sound, worrying his lip.

"I won’t tell him. Drop the pout, lovebird."

He reaches out a hand and Kiri grabs it quickly, and then he gets pulled up from the floor with the sun reappearing. Warmth immediately spreads across their skin.

"Thanks, man.”

Denki waves his hand, grins mischievously.

"Bro, you've got so much more dirt on me. This is self-protection.”

"Bro I’d never tell any of them anything."

"I know, I know. You’re just good like that,” he laughs. "One day either Shinso, Jirou, Sero or Tetsu will notice me. I'm not giving up yet."

"You're helpless," Kirishima shoos away a mosquito. “You should pick one of them to work your charm on.”

"I’d go for you, but your little monkey brain is already wired in the wrong direction, babe."

Kiri fake gags and Denki shoves him, hard. They gather their stuff - meaning Kirishima grabs all his things and Denki starts breakdancing next to him. Denki opens the door and bows, giving him the, "After you, good sir." and Kiri bows right back with a, "Oh my, thank you darling."

The door falls into its lock and clicks shut. A gust of wind picks up and moves the water bottle Kirishima forgot on the deck. It clatters against the mesh fence and rolls a few feet across the floor. It’ll be found later by someone else, surely. Not everyone has a bright red metal bottle with multiple stickers of pictures of his friends. They get back to class and the sun still shines.

* at the same time *

The cafeteria is too loud. There's laughter and screaming, talking, shuffling, things dropping and people running. For Bakugou the cafeteria hurts, it rings all the way through his ears to the bottom of his brain and he furrows his brows while poking chopsticks into rice.

"You want a spoon for the rice soup you’re making there?"

Bakugou flinches, knuckles turning white before the colour slowly creeps back, blood flow released.

"Watch your mouth," he barks into the direction of the person sitting across the table.

"Can’t, I'm eating. You should try it, it’s supposed to be good for you."

"I fucking know, Tapeface. What’s your issue?”

Sero grins before digging back into his chicken, his legs long under the table right under the window. His feet knock against Bakugou's ankles. Neither of them moves.

"What's yours? You're usually not that grumpy at lunch."

Bakugou looks at him for a few seconds, like he's considering, waging something in his head.

"'s loud here," he finally settles on.

"Oh."

Sero blinks, then he grabs his backpack and tray and Bakugou flinches again at the speed of it.

"What are you-"

"Come on big guy, grab your stuff."

"Huh?"

"There's tables outside, next to the gym building."

Oh. That’s right.

When they settle again Bakugou's forehead is still crinkled and Sero pokes him, index finger smudging against his skin. The wrinkles smooth out a bit. Sero puts his phone on the table, screen up. Bakugou can see the small notification LED blinking yellow.

"Ya still look grumpy."

Bakugou shrugs, finally eats his rice like a normal person. Sero hums, low and deep, then rustles inside of his bag and pulls out a juice pouch. There's a drop spilling when he puts the straw in a little too forcefully and Bakugou hands him a napkin.

"I have a goddamn headache."

"Ah."

The wind picks up and the sun vanishes behind thin clouds. The building casts enough shade to cover them and their table fully now and it’s a little colder.

"Maybe Ei can do his magic hands thing later. Doesn't he help sometimes?"

Bakugou shrugs but he averts his eyes, dipping his rice into sauce before shoving it into his mouth. He knows Sero can see through it but he also knows Sero is gentle. He hums again and Bakugou breathes.

"Yeah.”

Sero finishes his food and sips his juice, offering it to Bakugou but obviously being declined. He just shrugs.

"Denki texted me he's on the roof if ya wanna go up and ask."

Bakugou shakes his head, puts the lid back onto his bento box. He catches the way Sero checks at his phone, types away an answer to a message that made him smile.

"Lunch is over in a few anyway."

"You have some rice on your shirt."

"Ah shit."

The sun comes back out and Sero's phone chimes. He glances at it and sighs, swiping the little alarm notification away.

"Back to class then, wonder kid."

"You're on thin fucking ice, Hanta."

"Aw with the first name? You make me blush today."

"Bitch."

"No need to sweet talk me after you had a lunch date with me."

"Oh my fucking god I despise you."

He grabs his bag and then puts the trash from Sero's tray on his own, sliding them together. He carries both. Sero holds the door open for him and Bakugou grunts a thank you. The wind starts howling and the cafeteria is still filled with laughter when they enter.

*later*

The school day ends and the sky is grey. There are dark speckles between heavy clouds and the light turned a muddy yellow. The sun isn't visible and you can’t feel it either, all the warmth traveled further away into other days, future hours. Bakugou's kicking the door to the sky deck open with his foot, the sole squeaking against the heavy metal.

"Fucking bullshit."

There’s a rumble and then rain hits his face and there's a giggle right behind him, echoing in the halls of the stairway.

"Wait for me!"

Bakugou keeps the door open with a snarl.

"Shit, it was so nice out at lunch," Kirishima whines, stopping in the doorway.

"That’s fucking autumn for you."

"Don’t curse a whole season, you'll get unlucky."

Bakugou looks at him, getting soaked more every second, hair slowly plastering itself against his forehead. Water gets caught in his lashes and drips into his shoes. His socks get wet. He blinks once and Kiri rubs his blushing neck, laughing.

"Yeah," his lip pulls upwards, "wouldn't fucking want that, hah?"

Kirishima bolts out into the rain, Bakugou looks after him before following. There are small puddles on the floor and Kiri steps into them intentionally, grinning as he notices his boots are waterproof enough for his shenanigans.

"All right, where are you? Come out, come out wherever you are," Kirishima sing-songs.

"You're so stupid."

"Shhhh maybe it's hiding from us."

"Your water bottle?"

Kiri nods. “Maybe it feels your negative vibes, bro."

"Maybe I’ll make you feel a negative vibe in a second, bro."

It’s an empty threat and Kirishima laughs.

He keeps running and the sky doesn't split open to let light through. Bakugou licks his lips, rainwater on his tongue, and walks towards the fence to the south side. It’s like Kirishima forgot where he sat with the way he's buzzing through the rain, arms spread and face tilted towards the sky.

Bakugou spots his bottle immediately, picks it up with his pinky hooking through the loop on the cap. He inspects the stickers and none of them are peeling. When he turns, Kiri is standing still, looking up at the falling rain, hair bending and bowing under the weather.

"You done with your moment?" Bakugou yells over the noise.

"It’s so nice."

"The rain?"

"Hmh."

Bakugou comes up next to him, holds up the bottle but Kirishima’s eyes are closed. So he bumps the cold metal against the exposed skin under Kirishima’s rolled up sleeves.

"Got the goods."

"Ah! thank you, Blasty."

"You'll never drop that name huh?"

Kiri shrugs and Bakugou watches his shoulders move.

"It’s a good name."

"It’s old as shit. Come up with something better."

"Stop exploding into our faces then," Kirishima turns his head and grins.

"Never."

"That’s what I thought."

Kiri's quiet until Bakugou pulls up his nose. The sky keeps making noises that hint ever so closely at a thunderstorm coming.

"Ah shit, okay let's go back inside. You're soaked!"

"Duh."

"Thanks for coming to look with me though."

They both know Kirishima would’ve found his bottle on his own. They don’t address it though and somehow the knowledge settles between them in the form of physical contact. Bakugou simply accepts the wet arm that’s thrown over his shoulder, it soothes the tension built up in his muscles.

"You can thank me by doing your hand thing."

Kirishima’s head snaps towards him, eyes big and round. There are water droplets in his eyebrows.

"You have another headache? Man, why didn’t you say anything sooner?"

Kiri grabs his bottle from Bakugou, their fingers touch. Kiri smiles and walks towards the door. His hand reaches for the handle and it creaks under the movement.

"School," Bakugou says, voice calm while he shrugs.

"Let’s get dry and then I can come over? Whatcha say?"

Bakugou nods, brushes past Kirishima holding the door open. The arm that was around his shoulder slides off and it’s immediately cold where it lay. It’s now freezing in the hallway, especially dripping wet.

"D’you think Sero has a crush on Denki?"

Bakugou huffs, towel rubbing over his ears. They’re in the baths, air warm from their recent shower. The mirror Bakugou stands in front of is fogged up and Kirishima reaches over, hand smearing across the glass until his image is visible.

"I don’t care."

"Come on, gossip with me," Kirishima pokes his finger into Bakugou’s shoulder and the blond doesn’t even turn to look.

"No."

"But you always have the best takes."

"Shut up."

"Katsukiii please."

The towel drops. The sky breaks open and a few late sunbeams work their way through the clouds, illuminating UA in the softest glow. The boys are inside though, the warm bathroom shielding them from the outside, they can’t see.

But Bakugou looks at Kirishima and he simply knows, knows the grey is making space for evening blues and purples, knows the muddy yellow will turn into clear orange.

"I won’t spill Tapeface's secrets."

"Not even to me?" The puppy eyes get ignored.

"Especially not to you, you can't keep your big mouth shut ever!"

"That’s not true! I never spill secrets."

Bakugou unlocks his dorm room door and watches Kiri walk in before him. Bakugou smells his shampoo, it’s a mix of something woody and sweet.

"You're spilling right now."

"Yeah but to you, that’s different."

He sits down in the desk chair, swiveling around a bit. Digging the heels of his feet into the beige carpet. He’s barefoot in Bakugou’s room and it feels intimate. Bakugou snaps a laugh, it’s dry. Kirishima perks up at it.

"It’s not different, you’re making shit up."

"Uh yeah? I like sharing with you?"

"You like talking to everyone."

He drops himself on the floor, back pressed to Kiri's shins and tipping his head back over the redhead’s knees. It’s a bit uncomfortable but it gives Bakugou enough control over the situation. Not that he’d need it here. Kiri's hands gently weave themselves through towel dried blond hair, fingertips pressing against his scalp.

"I like talking to you most though," he says simply.

"Ew."

Kirishima laughs, Bakugou closes his eyes. He lets Kiri work his fingers through his hair, lets his nails scrape and scratch in all the right places and with every minute passing by he feels the headache less and less.

They're quiet for a bit and then he goes, "Hanta's whipped as fuck."

"I KNEW it!"

The ceiling light bathes them in warm white and the sky outside is hidden behind curtains.

#krbk #kiribaku #kirishima eijirou #bakugou katsuki #krbk fanfic #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha fanfic #kiribaku fanfiction #no hurt just comfort

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tommysparker · 4 years

Text

Good For You

Peter Parker x Reader

A/N: I dunno how I really feel about this one...but there will be a part 2! Inspired by “Good For You” from the musical Dear Evan Hansen, give it a listen and enjoy :)

Warnings: just pure angst, reader is disappointed but not surprised, and also # done

Six times.

Six times he’s canceled plans last minute.

And that’s just this month, so far.

You were happy for him, honestly, you were. But had you known his newfound fame would have cost you hours of waiting, hours of your life that you will never get back, just to end up looking like a fool as you leave the restaurant, you probably would have re-thought some decisions.

“Hi! This is Peter Parker, leave a--”

You sighed in frustration, tossing your phone and keys on the couch as you kicked off your shoes and shut the door to the apartment. Thankfully, your parents weren’t home so you had time to release some stress and anger.

Dropping yourself onto the cushions, you grabbed the TV remote and pressed the on-button, hoping some good ol’ fashioned Disney Plus would take your mind off tonight’s events, or lack thereof. However, the television network had other plans.

Sure enough, there was your boyfriend, dressed head-to-toe in that stupid red and blue spandex costume standing next to the great Tony Stark, who wore a regular suit and that signature smile the public adored.

Really? He ditched me to hang out with some tech billionaire? Is what you would’ve thought, however, you were used to it at this point. The first few times you felt disappointed, but now all you saw was red.

You turned off the TV, throwing the remote aside and grabbing your phone, hoping to see at least one message from your once adoring lover, but you were met with an old picture of you and him that you set as your lockscreen.

With a heavy sigh, you went into your room and decided to catch up on all the homework you’ve been ignoring. What better way to distract yourself than with memorizing calculus formulas?

The only text you got that night was from your parents telling you they’ll be home late.

---

The next day at school, you completely avoided Peter at all costs.

Peter was beyond confused.

He had gotten home late last night after spending hours with Mr. Stark teaching him the new customs of his suit and later going back to the lab to fix some minor bugs.

When he came into school this morning, he was hoping for the usual bear hug you greet him with when he walked over to your locker. However, by the time he got there you were already gone. Betty, whose locker was right next to yours, said you went to class early to talk to the teacher.

He shrugged it off, figuring he would catch you in between classes.

But he never did.

Every time he tried to talk to you, you would run off or ignore his callings. He thought maybe you were just having an off-day, you’ve been having a lot of those recently.

By the time lunch came around, he knew something was wrong.

No matter what mood you were in, you always made sure to sit next to him in the cafeteria, so when you didn’t show up at all, he had a feeling it was more than just an off-day.

He didn’t see you for the rest of the school day.

---

You were done. Absolutely done.

You woke up that morning ready to deal with whatever bullshit excuse Peter was gonna throw at you, but as you entered the school something inside you just snapped.

Maybe it was because one of your friends were talking about the amazing date they had, or maybe it was because you were tired after waiting for Peter to swing by your window and apologize for missing another date then end up passing out on the window sill, but either way, you were done.

You dodged Peter the whole first half of school, ditching after lunch because you weren’t ‘feeling well’.

The rest of the day you spent curled up on your bed, listening to music that related to whatever emotion you were feeling.

You glanced over at the clock, seeing school would’ve been out about half an hour ago. Picking up your phone you texted MJ asking if she was down to go out later. You were supposed to be having a movie night with Peter but if he could skip your plans dozens of times, why couldn’t you?

A ding followed by your phone lighting up took your attention off your laptop. Picking up your phone, you were hoping it was MJ accepting your invitation, and thankfully, the bookworm didn’t fail to please.

A few hours later, you were almost ready to go out, when a loud knocking sound came from your window.

Startled, you whipped your head towards the glass, and behind it stood non-other than your boyfriend.

Did you forget to tell him you canceled? Whoops.

Rolling your eyes, you opened your window and stepped back so he could come in. You were still upset with him, but that doesn’t mean you were about to make him wait outside when it was near zero degrees.

“Hey! Sorry I’m late Mr. Stark wanted to test this cool new web settings and we kinda lost track of time but I got your favourite food to make up for it- oh are we going somewhere instead?” Peter tilted his head as he took in your outfit. Normally on movie nights, you’d welcome him wearing a pair of comfy pants and his hoodie. However tonight you were dressed in jeans and a top he hadn’t seen you wear before. When did you go shopping?

“Yeah-no. It’s just me going, MJ should be on her way right now. Sorry I didn’t tell you earlier,” you shrugged, walking back to the mirror to finish doing your hair.

“Wait- what do you mean? What’s going on? It’s movie night...” The vigilante expressed, trying his best to mask the disappointed look his face fell into.

“Guess I’ll have to make it up to you, right? Just like all the times you’ve made it up to me.” You snapped, sarcasm laced with your words.

Peter could sense something was wrong, your tone and the look in your eyes being a dead giveaway. “What are you talking about, Y/N?”

“I dunno Parker, why don’t you tell me. Because I have been stood up too many times this month and honestly, I’m sick and tired of your empty promises,” You huffed, turning around to face him with your arms tightly crossed over your chest.

The brown-haired boy was baffled. “Look if this is about last week, I told you I’m sorry. You know how much being Spiderman means to me--”

“--More than it means being with me?”

Peter’s facial expression made it seem like the question slapped him in the face. “What? No! Why would you think that?”

“Um for starters, you’re always ditching me to go play superhero with a billionaire. Every time you tell me you’re gonna make it up to me, you never do! Yesterday’s date was supposed to make up for the one you missed last week, and that one was supposed to make up for the one you missed two weeks prior! I’m seeing a pattern Parker and I don’t like it.”

For some reason, his ears fell deaf to everything you said except for the mention of his alter-ego. “Playing superhero? Really Y/n? I’m saving lives! I’m making a difference here. I have these powers and if I don’t use them, and bad things happen, that’s on me. You have no idea the kind of responsibility I have. Besides, you should be happy for me! I’m better than I’ve ever been before. Don’t you get that?”

You bit your lip, fighting back tears. “Yeah, I guess you're right. Well...I’m sorry I don’t fit into your responsibilities.”

“What? No that’s not--”

“I’m not done yet! You got what you always wanted, right? Your dream is now a reality, well good for you, Parker. I’m happy for you, really I am. I just wish you would’ve told me that dream didn’t involve me so I didn’t waste my time loving you,” You spat.

“Wait, Y/N please--!”

“I mean, are you even sorry?” You cut him off again. “‘Cause you say it all the time but you never act like it. The Peter I knew would’ve put everything aside in order to right a wrong, but you, you just worry about yourself.” Yes, that was a low blow, and far from the truth, but in the heat of the moment you could hardly control the words coming out of your mouth. Months of pent up frustration being released kinda broke the filter.

Peter looked like a kicked puppy, he tried to say something but you kept ranting.

“When was the last time you hung out with Ned? Or had a real conversation with May? All of us are hurting, Peter. We’re your friends, your family. And all you do is jump the fence over to “Mr. Stark’s” at the blow of his dog whistle. But, hey, if that makes you happy then fucking good for you. I guess if I can’t give you any fancy tech, o-or ‘understand your responsibility’ then go ahead and cut me loose. No, really, I won’t mind--”

“Stop it! Just stop, please!” He had tears running down his face, similar to your own. He took a shaky breath, wiping away the tears roughly before giving you a heart-broken look.

You stared back, shoulders shaking and eyes red. You sniffled, pointing a shaky arm to the window. “Get out.” It was quiet, a huge contrast to the previous volume of your voice, but suddenly the energy was drained from your body, mentally and emotionally.

Peter left without a word or hesitation.

You walked to the window, swaying slightly as you watched him swing off into the distance.

So you got what you always wanted, live with the consequences.

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

Again....not ecstatic about this turned out but hoping part 2 turns out better :/

All: @greenorangevioletgrass @allegra-writes @soraitmnt @worldoftom @farfromparker @angel-spidey @parkerpeter24 @god-knows-what-am-i-doing @the-panwitch @rebekkah4766 @hollandsamor @spideygirl2003 @theactualprincessofeverything

Peter Parker: @rubberducky-jrr

#peter parker #peter parker angst #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter x reader #peter x y/n #rae writes sometimes

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p-artsypants · 4 years

Text

I’ll Handle This (3)

Ao3 | FF.net

The walk to the Principal's office wasn’t that long, but it felt like it with the dagger’s Adrien was staring at him.

“I know what you’re going to say—“

“You knocked him unconscious.”

“What was I supposed to do? Let him drag me all the way back to the mansion, making me escape again?”

“You’re doing this all wrong! Father doesn’t like disobedience! He’s just going to tighten the leash every time you act up! It’s better if you just apologize now and then follow his orders to a T.”

“Listen to yourself, Adrien.” Plagg paused one the hall. “Orders? Disobedience? You make him sound like a prison warden, and not a father! You always followed his rules and it’s gotten you nowhere.”

“I was better off then than I am now...”

“Yes, you were.” Plagg admitted. “Not going to lie, this is going to get way worse before it gets better. But I’ve already made my intentions known to him, so he’ll know that I’m not just being rebellious without due cause. I’ll just have to keep pushing until he cracks.”

“I hate this.”

“Cheer up kid. Just enjoy the ride. I’ll take care of everything.”

Adrien just groaned as they reached the Principal's office and he dove back into his pocket.

Plagg knocked.

“Yes yes, come in.”

Inside, Mr. Damocles only spared Plagg a glance. “Yes, Mr. Agreste, what do you need?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then can it wait until after school? I’m very busy.”

“Okay.” And he walked back outside.

“You were supposed to tell him about what happened in class, and he was going to punish you!” Adrien chastised.

“I don’t want to be punished.” Plagg shrugged.

Adrien just groaned again. “You will be the death of me.”

“Adrien, don’t be so dramatic.” Plagg impersonated his father. “Emotions are for peasants. We rich people have no need for feelings.”

“Damn, that’s really accurate.”

“I practice.”

Adrien floated out of the pocket. “By the way…why didn’t you tell me Marinette was Ladybug?”

Plagg halted and leaned against the railing. “How’d you figure that out?”

“Tikki.”

Plagg snorted. “I bet she felt pretty stupid for letting that slip.”

“She said you’re a cheater.”

He shrugged. “She has the same ability as me. She’s just too much of a goody-goody two shoes. Anyway, I didn’t tell you because I wasn’t supposed to.”

“You’re also not supposed to put cheese in my shoes, but that doesn’t stop you.”

“That’s different. The whole identity rule was put in place by the Guardians. Master Fu, the guardians before him, and now Marinette. That’s a little more binding.”

Adrien wilted, knowing he was beaten.

“But you’re on board with my plan now, right? Flirting with Marinette?”

“Sure, but Tikki said she’s already in love with me.”

“That’s true, but she doesn’t know you’re in love with her. And instead of just confessing, I’m going to slowly convince her that she’s the one you’re in love with.”

“Why do it slowly?”

“Two reasons.” Plagg held up his fingers. “One: I want to leave the mushy gushy confession stuff to you, and B: it’s more fun this way.”

“You’re a piece of work, you know that?”

“Yes. One worthy of the Louvre. I’m glad you’ve finally noticed.” He swiped Adrien out of the air and tucked him into his pocket. “Now, we must get back to class. While I certainly lived the Hundred Years War, you still need to know what’s going to be on the test.”

Plagg walked back into the classroom, completely unbothered.

Miss Bustier looked surprised to see his return. The Gorilla was propped up against the wall with a washcloth on his forehead. He was still unconscious. “Back already? What did Mr. Damocles have to say about your behavior?”

“He took away one of my good noodle stars.”

Someone in the back of the room snorted.

Miss Bustier sighed, as if she had been expecting this. “Alright, take your seat, Adrien. I better not hear a peep out of you for the rest of the day.”

“You got it, teach!”

—

At lunch, Plagg turned in his seat and addressed Nino. “Hey, you busy after school?”

“Uh...Alya and I had a date, but if you’re free I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if I postponed!”

“It’s a little rude to cancel plans without consulting the person you made them with, don’t you think?” Alya snarked, leaning forward.

“Oh my apologies, madam.” Plagg bowed. “Dost thou mind if thine beloved joins me on an errand after school?”

“But Adrien,” interrupted Marinette. “Don’t you have fencing after school?”

“Hmm, you’re right. I have to keep up appearances.”

“What?”

“After fencing then.”

“Hmm, how about this,” suggested Alya. “What if we come watch your fencing practice, and then we all go together.”

Plagg blanched. “Eh, I don’t really want to be a third wheel.”

“You wouldn’t. Marinette’s coming too!”

“Oh!” He hopped up on his knees, eagerly getting into her space. “Like a double date? That sounds like fun!”

“Date?!” Stuttered Marinette, “Uh, yeah! Sure!” Then her face pulled into a wince. “That is, if you don’t want to go with Kagami instead...”

“Nah, this is an errand meant for the OG crew. Wouldn’t want anyone else! So what are we doing for lunch?”

“You don’t have to go home?”

“Sure, I have to, but I don’t want to. Let’s see...” he took out his wallet. Inside, there were several credit cards, but only one in Gabriel’s name.

“I’ll cover lunch, let's hit the most expensive restaurant there is! Daddy’s paying!”

—

After lunch, the group walked back to school, with the boys taking the lead while the girls hung back a few steps.

“Okay, as much as I love new Adrien,” Alya whispered. “There’s definitely something up with him.”

“Yeah. I noticed the minute I saw him this morning. I’m really worried about him.”

“Eh, I wouldn’t be worried about him. I’d be worried about everyone else.”

“What do you mean?”

“I just mean...he’s gotten a taste of power somewhere, and it’s bound to explode outward. I’m sure that triple digit bill at lunch is not going to go over well with his father. If he’s messing with his dad and with Lila...when is it going to stop?”

“No. Adrien’s not like that. I think he’s acting out for attention.”

“You think he’d do that?”

“I...I don’t know. But I think it’s closer to what’s happening. Adrien is good and kind, he’s not snotty like Chloe. I think this is just honest to goodness rebellion.”

Plagg turned around and called back to the girls. “Do you think a tattoo would suit me?” Then he grabbed his leg in pain. “Ouch! Cramp!”

“Definitely rebellion.”

—

After school, Nino, Alya, and Marinette took a seat under the shady courtyard stairs so they could work on homework and watch Adrien’s practice at the same time.

Nino spread out his books and then leaned back on his elbows.

“You guys noticed how frickin weird Adrien’s been acting today?”

“Yes!” The girls said unanimously.

“We were just talking about that at lunch!” Said Alya. “Marinette says it's a rebellion. I say he’s tasting the rich boy power.”

Nino screwed up his lips. “I think you’re both wrong. I think he’s magically switched bodies with someone...or something...”

“Dude, what the hell are you talking about?” Alya stared at him, blank-faced.

“Come on, you can’t seriously rule that out! What if there’s a body swapping Akuma out and about that we don’t know about yet?”

“You think Adrien’s an Akuma?”

“Or under the effects of one.” Nino clarified. “Maybe someone out to ruin his reputation...or something more sinister...”

“If that’s the case, we should grill him. Ask him questions only the real Adrien would know.”

“Yeah!” Nino stood. “Like that one episode of Spongebob!”

“We should definitely not take advice from a children’s show.”

“Or…we should.”

Adrien emerged from the locker room, foil in hand and dressed in his gear. There was still something off about him. Were his pants on backwards?

“Hey Adrien!” Nino called.

Like an excited puppy, Adrien trotted over. “Sup homes?”

“What’s your favorite vine?”

He rubbed his chin. “Odd question. But I suppose it’d be a trumpet, or perhaps a Honeysuckle.”

“Uhh…” Nino raised a brow at him, suspicion rising.

“Oh, you mean one of your silly little internet videos.” Immediately, Adrien dropped into a fighting stance. “DON’T EFF WITH ME! I’VE GOT THE POWER OF GOD AND ANIME ON MY SIDE! AHHHHHH!”

“Yep, that’s Adrien.”

—

While Alya and Nino got to work on their homework, Marinette was constantly distracted by Adrien. Nothing new, of course, but it wasn’t all ‘grace’ and ‘elegance’.

It was ‘sneaky’ and ‘unlawful’.

Whenever Adrien’s partner was turned away, Adrien grabbed the tip of his saber, and bent it, only to release it a second later to snap on his opponent’s rear end.

“Hey!”

“You had a fly.”

“Mr. Agreste!” The coach called. “I don’t tolerate unsportsmanlike conduct! One more goof, and you’re out of practice!”

“Just one more?”

“One more!”

*TWACK*

“Out you go!”

“Thanks!” And Adrien walked right off the mat and over to the locker room. He came out a few minutes later, looking even more disheveled than he was this morning. His hair was a sweaty rat’s nest.

“Now that I’ve been kicked out of fencing, who wants to run some errands!?”

Alya slammed her book shut. “Me is ready. Me can't read anymore!”

“Well, me is hungry,” said Nino. “Can we get food first?”

“Snacks it is!”

But before they could even go anywhere, Kagami appeared, looking rightfully confused. “You’re skipping fencing today?”

“Correction, was kicked out of fencing today!”

Her eyes widened in horror, before she frowned hard. “That’s not something to joke about Adrien.”

“I’m not joking, I was goofing around and Coach kicked me out of practice.”

She shook her head. “That’s disappointing, Adrien. I expected better from you.”

In Plagg’s pocket, Adrien gave a little gasp of pain. Hearing his father’s disappointment was one thing, but hearing that from Kagami was horribly painful.

But Plagg rolled with it easily. “Kagami, let’s talk.” He turned to his friends. “I’ll be back in a little bit, think about where you want to eat.” Then Plagg led Kagami over to a secluded corner so they could speak privately.

In the pocket, Adrien prayed that Plagg would be nice to her.

Once they were a distance away, Kagami crossed her arms and levelled a glare at him. “If you are going to tell me to loosen up, I am. But you know how important fencing is for me. I want you to have friends, but I don’t like you blowing off responsibilities.”

“Kagami,” Plagg folded his hands in front of him. “This is bigger than us.”

Her face paled. “What? What are you saying?”

“I’m saying, you and I are leading different lives—“

“You’re breaking up with me?” She sniffed.

“Ah ah, technically, we were never really dating in the first place.”

“But—“

“I’m going to explain something to you, and I want you to listen and hear it objectively, as much as it will hurt. Don’t take it personally, alright?”

She nodded sadly.

“You think you’re in love with me, because you think you should be. I’m the only male friend you have that’s our age, and because of the affection you have for me, you’re assuming that it’s infatuation, when really, it’s just a connection.”

She blinked, frowning, but her eyes weren’t tearing up anymore.

“I’m in a similar boat to you, where I started to like my first female friend on instinct. It was only until I made other female friends that I realized what I felt for her was really love, and not just the thrill of having a friend that’s a girl.”

“Then…how do you know I don’t feel the same? I get what you’re saying, but I think I really love you.”

“Do you? Or do you love the idea of me? Do you love the idea of having a male companion that you can bond with?”

“I do like that…”

“Can you imagine it being someone other than me?”

“I don’t know who else it would be…”

“Make up a person. Pretend you’re talking to someone else, getting ice cream with someone else. Do you feel like you could get the same thing you want from me from someone else? Or is it something only I can give? Is it companionship? Or is it my sense of humor, my topics, my interests, my opinions?”

Kagami crossed her arms, now deep in thought.

“Kagami, I don’t want to hurt your feelings. I do care a lot about you, and I really enjoy fencing with you. But…I can’t see myself spending the rest of my life with you. We’re too alike, and yet too different. Our discussions are shallow, and I don’t think you want the same things from life as I do. But I think you want a boyfriend, and I was the closest boy available.”

Kagami unfolded her arms, and raised her head to look at him levelly. “Yes, I suppose that is an accurate assessment. You do do things that irritate me, like fooling around in serious moments. Every time I brought up the future, you clammed up. I can see you live for the now and not for tomorrow, which is difficult to build a relationship on.”

Both Plagg and Adrien sighed. She was taking this extremely well, given her track record for akumatizations.

“I suppose I do need to make more male friends. I think that would be smart to learn more about what I want in a partner. And we can always revisit our relationship in the future, right?”

“Umm, maybe…?”

She frowned again. “Oh, yes, you said earlier that you are in love with someone else. It’s Marinette, isn’t it?”

Plagg grinned. “Pretty obvious, isn’t it?”

“I was in disbelief when you called her a ‘really good friend’. I saw it a mile away, but since neither of you were making a move, I decided to ‘shoot my shot’ as they say.”

Plagg figured that’s how it was, but Adrien was gawking at her from inside the pocket. She knew?? And she didn’t tell him?!

“I suppose I should have expected this conversation as well. But I appreciate your insight. I think you’re right. I just want a boyfriend.” She shrugged. “I guess it doesn’t have to be you.”

Plagg sighed again. “Thank you, Kagami.”

“No, thank you, Adrien. Thank you for breaking this off before I got too invested. You know how much I hate wasting time.” And with that, she walked off.

Once she was out of earshot, Plagg whistled lowly. “Whoa, burn. Dodged a bullet there, pal.”

“The time we spent together was not a waste!” Adrien protested. “Anytime spent with friends should be cherished!”

Plagg cupped him in his hand, rubbing right between the ears. “Hey, come on kid. She didn’t mean it like that. She can be as cool and calm as she wanted, but she’s still hurt. But I swear, it’s better for both of you this way, especially since you’re in love with Marinette.”

“I know…it just…sucks.”

“Sure it does. But it won’t forever.” Then he popped him back inside the pocket. “Come on! Let’s meet up with the others! We have some shopping to do!”

“What are we shopping for, exactly?”

“Tools to use to piss off your old man.”

“Uh, been there, done that?”

“Oh no, my teeny tiny friend, we have much left to do. Much left.”

—

“Touching me…”

“Touching you…”

“SWEET CAMEMBERT! BAH BAH BAH—“

“Now,” Nino interrupted their little impromptu karaoke down the sidewalk, “my English might not be very good, but I’m pretty sure it’s ‘Sweet Caroline’ not ‘Sweet Camembert.’”

“Aw,” Plagg waved his hand. “It’s not important what the lyrics are, it’s just important that you feel the song.”

Nino, as a DJ, looked aghast. “Of course it’s important to know the lyrics! Why do you think they’re written that way?”

“Relax, I love making cheese parodies of songs. I’m not going to go to Jagged Stone and argue that my lyrics are better.”

“Um…since when do you make cheese parodies? And aren’t you like, low key lactose intolerant?”

“Allergies can’t stop the cheese, my friend. Why do you think I take so many bathroom breaks?”

Adrien pinched him from inside the pocket, but Plagg just swatted him back. Did he not see the opportunity he was just given? A perfect cover for when he had to go fight akumas!

All he had to do was become the weird cheese kid. Such were the sacrifices of being a hero.

“Oh!” Marinette exclaimed as they walked past a boutique. “That is adorable!” She stared at a dress in the window.

Plagg’s ears metaphorically perked up and he swooped in to make a move. He laid an arm on her shoulder. “Oh, yes Marinette, that’s extremely cute. I think it would look nice on you! Can I buy it for you?” He gave her a smooth smile.

Adrien facepalmed in his pocket.

“What! You want to—for me? No! No…I can certainly make it on my own!” She snapped a picture of the dress. “I think I could find a print I like better too.”

Plagg was not deterred. “Oh, then perhaps I could buy the fabric for you? It’s not often that I get to buy things for my friends!”

“Dude, you bought us lunch today.” Said Nino, with some concern. “You okay? Like…you’re not going to start giving away your personal belongings, are you?”

“No, unless I have something you want? A video game perhaps?”

“Stop it. You’re freaking me out.”

This actually did give Plagg pause. In all his experience of human history, supplementing friendships with presents was the easiest way to manipulate people. What was he doing wrong? Was Adrien not generous enough?

“You know…” Nino scratched the back of his head, “they say when your friends start being super nice and giving stuff away and talking about personal things…it’s a sign of them being suicidal.”

Adrien’s bite was sorely deserved, Plagg decided as he flinched. “No! No no, gods no!” He laughed awkwardly. “I just…decided to be a little more…generous?”

Marinette laid a hand on his arm. “Adrien, never feel like you have to buy our friendship. We like spending time with you, no matter how we get it.”

Plagg tightened his jaw. He knew what he had to do, but mushy-ness and feelings were his least favorite thing in the world.

He took her hand and held it. “Thank you Marinette. I love you, all of you. It’s so important to me that I get to spend time with you too, and I’m happiest when I’m with my friends. I just wanted to show my appreciation.”

Nino sniffled and wiped his eyes. “We love you too man.”

Slam dunk.

—

The shopping trip went splendidly. His target was horribly gaudy clothes that would offend his father. He used Marinette as a litmus test. If she gaped in shock, it was perfect.

Most of his purchases ended up being cheap tourist shirts, ‘Hawaiian’ shirts as they were often referred to.

After the initial shock of Plagg subjecting them to the eye sores, it started to turn into a game.

“Look Adrien! This one’s got little croissants on it!” Marinette said with glee.

“I love it,” Plagg stated, holding it up to Adrien’s body in the mirror. “But, all of these shirts are still just a little too normal. I think it’ll piss my dad off, but it’s not enough to push him into absolutely indignant.”

Marinette shrugged. “I mean, we are in Paris, the fashion capital of the world.”

Nino was the one that held up two shirts together. “I mean, you could wear these two at the same time.” One was a sunset orange, and the other was a vibrant Microsoft Blue Screen of death blue. It was painful to look at them next to each other.

Marinette made a loud, gasp, it almost sounded like a honk. “Nino.”

“What? I thought we were going for gaudy?”

“We are, we are, you’re a genius!”

“I mean, of course I am, but what did I do?”

She took the two shirts and examined the seams. “I might doom myself, but I can separate these shirts and re-sew them. Basically, making two new shirts!”

Plagg laughed maniacally. “Oh Marinette, my dear, that’s downright diabolical!”

Marinette blushed, but she smiled proudly. “I can probably do a couple of these shirts, as long as they’re the same style. It might take me a few days—“

Plagg hugged her from the side and kissed her cheek loudly and obnoxiously. “That would be amazing! Thank you Marinette!”

Gauging by the way the girl melted into the floor, Plagg assumed he had scored a few points.

—

#miraculous ladybug #ml #adrien agreste #plagg #adrien and plagg #marinette dupain cheng #body swap #adrienette #fanfiction #I'll handle this

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let-the-dream-begin · 4 years

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A Place to Belong Chapter 25: What Ye Don’t Ken, Ye’ll Learn

Chapter 24

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Brianna’s second birthday came in the blink of an eye after the arrival of Michael and Janet. Two years, twenty-four months. Her vocabulary had quite expanded now, though her favorite word of all was “no;” it had, in fact, been her second word, shortly following “dog.”

“They learn that one fast,” Jenny had said.

Two years old, and Brianna was more stubborn than perhaps both of her parents combined. She was perfectly capable of verbally expressing her most basic needs, but Claire often had to pry it out of her like she was a locked vault. She often refused to use her words for whatever reason, and nobody could figure out why. Many a one-sided conversation would end with a tantrum of mass proportions, and Jenny would have to physically yank Claire away from the hysterical toddler.

“If ye stay there coddling her like that, ye’re giving her exactly what she wants,” Jenny said one day. “She’ll stop eventually if ye just let her alone.

From what little Claire knew about children, she was certain that Jenny was right, but that didn't mean it didn’t cause her physical pain to leave her child rolling in the middle of the hallway.

As predicted, she was also becoming more and more troublesome when it came to her escapades with Kitty. Both were more mobile than ever, and they were quite the experts on tormenting the dogs, and on sneaking biscuits right out from under Mrs. Crook’s nose. For that matter, they were experts on all things regarding pushing Mrs. Crook to the brink of losing her temper. They were like small dogs, always deliberately getting under foot and making a scene when they were nearly stepped on.

Maggie, just five years old now, was also becoming quite an expert; an expert at being mother-hen, that is. She could often be heard throughout the house, or outside, lecturing the younger ones in an adorable, high-pitched little voice, one that was trying its best to sound like her mother.

One day, Jenny and Claire were doing laundry, and Maggie came barreling around the side of the house.

“Mam! Auntie Claire!” she squeaked, her little cheeks red with exertion. “Kitty and Banna are bothering the goats!”

Jenny and Claire exchanged a knowing look, each rolling their eyes.

“Dinna fash, my wee lamb,” Jenny said. “The goats will be jest fine.”

“But they’re climbing, Mam!”

“The goats?” Jenny said, chuckling as she wrung out one of Ian’s sarks.

“Nae! Kitty and Banna!”

Claire’s heart immediately dropped into her stomach, and she and Jenny exchanged quite a different look. They dropped their laundry and hiked up their skirts and sprinted around the house to the goat pen. Kitty and Brianna were indeed standing on the second highest rung of the wooden fence, gripping the highest one, antagonizing the easily-angered ram. They arrived just in time to see the ram butt his horns into the fence, throwing both toddlers off to land on their backs.

Claire’s knees nearly gave out from under her, the world stopping as she screamed in terror. She sprinted to Brianna’s side, prepared for a violent seizure in response to the blunt force trauma to her head. Instead, she collapsed in the dirt beside her, and Brianna burst into a wild fit of giggles, joined shortly after by Kitty.

“Katherine Mary Fraser Murray!” Jenny howled, stamping right over to the three of them, standing over Kitty with her hands on her hips. “What the Devil d’ye mean by nearly getting yerself killed?”

Kitty’s laughter immediately ceased, and she sat up, the fear of God written all over her face.

“D’ye ken what might’ve happened? If ye’d gotten him just a bit more angry, ye could’ve hit yer head harder and died. D’ye ken that, Katherine?” Kitty’s face was uncharacteristically white, her blue eyes wide with terror. “Yer cousin could’ve died! D’ye ken that? Ye put wee Brianna in danger!”

That was when she burst into tears.

Claire, meanwhile, was fussing over Brianna, inspecting every inch of her head, checking her pupils, her pulse. Brianna’s laughter had stopped once Jenny had started yelling, but now she was upset in earnest.

“Why Kitty cryin’ Mummy?”

“Kitty is crying because Auntie Jenny is very upset with her,” Claire said, suddenly filled with her own rage at her daughter’s carelessness. “And I am very upset with you, Brianna.”

“Ye’re too young fer a thrashing, but ye will be taught a lesson. Up, now.” Kitty obeyed her mother, wailing in hysterics. Jenny seized her by the wrist and dragged her daughter behind her, marching right up to the house.

“Your Auntie is right. Something very bad could have happened to you, Brianna,” Claire said firmly, holding tightly onto Brianna’s wrists. “Do you understand? You could have triggered one of your fits. It could have hurt you very much.” Brianna was welling up with tears, but whether it was from what Claire was actually saying or just from the stern tone, Claire could not tell.

“Brianna. Do you understand?”

Claire watched as her little chubby face gradually turned red, and her nose and lips scrunched up.

“No!” she suddenly wailed, yanking against her mother’s grip on her wrists.

Claire exhaled sharply through her nose, her jaw setting hard. “I said, do you understand?”

“NO!”

“Alright. That’s enough.” Claire abruptly released her wrists so she could scoop her up around the middle and carry her, screeching and squirming, into the house. Admittedly, she nearly lost her grip several times, and she wondered how it could possibly be so difficult to hold onto something that only weighed twenty-seven pounds.

By the time they got inside, Jenny was already in the dining room, holding Kitty over her knees and administering light but firm smacks to her bottom. Claire paused in the doorway with Brianna, wincing at each small blow. Jenny finished, and looked up at Claire.

“D’ye want me to do it?” she said pragmatically, nudging her chin toward Brianna.

Claire really considered it for a moment. She didn't really want to spank her child; it wasn’t something she ever thought she’d be willing to do as a parent. It would be all too easy to let Jenny be the bad guy, to wash her hands of the situation.

But she couldn’t allow that. Brianna had to know to follow rules set by both her aunt and her mother. And besides, spanking and beating were not nearly the same thing.

“No. I should do it.” Claire sat down, struggling to position Brianna’s squirming little body in her lap. Jenny removed Kitty from her lap and stood her up on the floor, holding firmly onto her shoulders.

“Watch yer cousin now, Katherine. She’s being punished as well because of yer actions.” Jenny looked at Claire. “I gave her five.”

Claire nodded resolutely. “Alright.”

Brianna howled and shrieked, probably much more than was actually warranted, but it wasn’t long before five swats were administered. Claire lifted her up again, settling her to sit on her knee.

“D’ye understand why ye’ve had to be punished? Both of ye?” Jenny looked back and forth between the two toddlers, and Kitty nodded vehemently. Brianna waited until Kitty nodded, but agree she did. “Ye canna be angering the beasts. They dinna ken how small ye are, and they dinna care. They’re wild, dumb creatures. They will hurt ye. D’ye understand?”

Kitty nodded, wiping her eyes sloppily with the back of her hand, and Brianna nodded as well.

“Good. Off ye get to the nursery, now. No more outdoors today.” Jenny departed and returned with Mrs. Crook to ask her to see the little ones upstairs. Claire resisted the urge to kiss Brianna’s head before she put her down on the floor.

Sighing heavily, Jenny led Claire out of the dining room, but they both stopped short as Jenny’s legs collided with something. They heard a little sniffle, and both looked down to see Maggie, her face stained with fresh tears.

“Maggie, mo chridhe, what’s the matter?”

She sniffled again. “Kitty and Banna got punished because I told.”

“Och, my gentle wee lamb,” Jenny tutted, reaching down and heaving her up into her arms, settling her on her hip.

“You did the right thing by coming to us, darling,” Claire said softly, brushing a few curls off her damp forehead. “They could have been hurt.”

She hiccuped a little and nuzzled into her mother’s neck.

“That’s right, mo ghraidh. It’s a good thing ye came fer us. They had to be punished so they would learn, so they wouldna get hurt again. D’ye understand?”

She nodded, her lips still drooping in a sad little pout. Jenny gave a soft chuckle and kissed the top of Maggie’s head.

“I never had to swat at this one’s bottom,” Jenny said to Claire, leading them back outside. “No’ a troublemaker like the other two.”

Claire smiled lightly as Jenny set Maggie down next to the washtub.

“Would you like to help us, love?” Claire said, stroking Maggie’s hair.

“Aye, Auntie.”

“There’s my good lass,” Jenny crooned. “Up ye get.” She helped her onto the little stool by the clothesline so she could reach.

“She’s so sensitive, the dear girl,” Claire said softly, plunging her hands back into the frigid water.

“Aye,” Jenny said, chuckling again. “Dinna ken where she gets it from.”

Claire chuckled. “Do you think she’ll ever forgive me?”

“Maggie?” Jenny’s brow furrowed.

“No, no…”

“Och, dinna fash about that,” Jenny scoffed. “She’ll be hanging on yer legs again by supper.” She rang out the previously abandoned sark and handed it to Maggie. “Ye ken it had to be done, aye?”

“No, I do. Yes,” Claire said.

“Ye’ll get used to it sister.” Jenny patted her wrist with a wet hand. “And she willna love ye any less fer it.”

Claire sighed. She knew Jenny was right, and she also knew it was only going to get worse from here.

——

In Brianna’s second year of life, she’d had four seizures. Two less than last year, putting her at ten for her whole small lifetime. Claire had certainly heard of worse cases of epilepsy, so she supposed she should be counting her blessings. But the guilt that gripped her stomach with every seizure was enough to send her spiraling into self-doubt and self-loathing for days at a time.

It was a good thing that Jenny would not tolerate it for very long.

She let Claire hover over Brianna as she slept, let her weep, let her coddle the child days after the post-seizure lethargy ended. But any admonishment of herself as a mother was where Jenny drew the line.

“If ye say it so often, ye’ll start to believe it, and then where will Brianna be?”

Claire couldn’t help but admit that Jenny was right.

It did no good to linger on her supposed shortcomings, because while Claire was still thinking about what she could have and should have done differently two years ago, a week ago, yesterday, or five minutes ago, Brianna was already getting into trouble again and needing intervention.

It was exhausting, being a mother. But it was something that Claire cherished above all else. No matter how many times she heard the word “no” from her daughter’s stubborn little mouth, no matter how many times she slipped naked out of her grasp and trailed bathwater all over the house before Claire could catch up, no matter how many messes of flour she managed to make in the kitchen, no matter how desperately Claire feared for her life every day, it was all worth it when she heard that little voice:

“Up, Mummy!”

“Hug, Mummy?”

“Mummy kiss?”

Or, her newest revelation, Claire’s favorite string of words she’d ever heard in her life:

“Love you, Mummy.”

When Claire cradled her sleeping toddler, her mouth hanging open and dripping with just the tiniest bit of drool, hearing little snores with every breath, the knitted lamb squeezed firmly into her little chest, it was impossible to remember anything but what an angel she was when she slept.

This is ours, Jamie. Those little red cheeks, her wee teeth, those pudgy hands, those smiling, sleepy lips, her soft, sweet smelling head. All ours, love.

Claire certainly didn’t forget -- his absence colored her every movement and affected every decision; the ache was tangible, always -- but it was easy for thoughts of Jamie to fall to the wayside when she was constantly dashing forward to stop her little troublemaker from toppling down the stairs or knocking something onto her head. In their waking hours, while Brianna squealed and caused a ruckus with her cousins, tormented the dogs and the other animals, trampled a few herbs in the garden when Claire wasn’t looking, it was impossible to think of anything but containing that bundle of energy.

But in quiet moments in the chair by the hearth, no light but the fire and the pale moon, watching the thick lashes that they had made flutter shut over the blue eyes that he had given her, listening to her babbling become less and less coherent as she drifted into dreamland, Claire could think of nothing else. Nothing else but how desperately she longed to see him hold her, to see him scoop her up before she could touch the hot metal grate over the fireplace, to hear them laugh together.

“Up, Da!”

“Hug, Da?”

“Da kiss?”

“Love you, Da.”

These were words that haunted her at night, words that kept her awake, staring at her daughter while she slept soundly. If she concentrated, she could really hear it, her daughter’s squeaky little voice calling out to her father.

“Da is here, mo ghraidh. Mo chridhe. My wee lass."

She could hear that, too.

#outlander #outlander au #outlander fanfic #outlander fanfiction #claire fraser #jamie fraser #claire beauchamp #brianna randall #brianna fraser #jenny murray #fergus fraser

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idontdowellunderpressure · 4 years

Text

Hisoillu Week - Day 5: Past/Future

Title: Reading the Future in the Past

Hisoka first saw the boy while he was sitting on one of the few unbroken slats of wood that formed the dilapidated fence that hugged the field of what might have been a farm. Now it was just a wide field with dry soil that refused to support anything more than wild grass. Which was probably why no one had come over to kick Hisoka and his mom from their shack to try and reclaim the farmland. Hisoka didn’t mind that nothing grew in the dirt though, because the real source of income in the land was its proximity to the main road into town.

The boy he saw had longer hair than Hisoka’s, hanging a few inches below his shoulders, and it looked as dark and shiny as ink. The man beside the boy was huge, bigger than anyone Hisoka had ever seen, with arms wider than most men’s chests. His hair was long too, but white like sun-dried bones.

The two walked down the dirt path, at a pace fast enough to show intention but slow enough to lack purpose. Hisoka kicked his legs as he awaited their approach and launched himself off the fence to land in the middle of the path once they were within a few yards.

“Hello travelers,” Hisoka greeted. “Might I offer my services as a guide around town?”

“No thank you. We know where we’re going.” The older man said, his voice low and rough against Hisoka’s ears.

“You may know where you’re going, but what about the best way to get there? Wouldn’t want to wander down the wrong street and lose your wallet. Or worse, your life. I can guarantee a safe route to any place you’re headed.”

The man stared at him, his light blue eyes were cold, but Hisoka refused to let his body shiver from the chill.

“We’ll be fine.” The man finally said before stepping around Hisoka.

“Then how about a fortune?” He offered, turning as the man and the boy stepped around either side of him.

The man paused, and he spun around to face Hisoka. His right eyebrow was raised and Hisoka beamed at having caught his curiosity. The young boy didn’t look so impressed, but Hisoka was confident to raise his eyes after showing off his skill.

“Are you a specialist then?” The man asked.

“I am. Fortune telling runs deep in my blood. I’ve never been wrong yet.” He smiled, working to contain his pride so he wouldn’t come off as phony.

The man was still, as was his son. Neither one moved or spoke, but Hisoka kept the smile stretched across his face. His mother may have taught him all she knew about reading cards, but he still hadn’t quite mastered reading a person. Luckily, the man nodded for Hisoka to continue.

Hisoka knelt onto the dirt path and pulled the cards from his pocket. His mother used a very particular combination of playing cards and tarot cards to help read the future. A unique blend that she swore offered more truth and greater detail than one method alone. Hisoka shuffled his deck, closing his eyes and breathing carefully as he accepted the will of the universe to guide his hand.

“It is important to gather as much information as possible before a mission.” He heard the man state. “No matter how close you are to the end, and no matter who the information is from.”

“I understand.” Another voice replied. It was without any inflection and the tone was close to calm, if only for the lack of any other emotion to flavor it.

Hisoka opened his eyes as he laid the first card down. He drew the next and placed it beside the other, continuing until he had the first row -the past- complete. He began to explain the past.

“You are from a long history, and the hearts would suggest family history specifically. But the low number of hearts would suggest you’re not very close to any. You are a warrior, but also a man of money. The fighting and money are directly related. Your partner is similar to you. A warrior. But you met later in life, recently before marrying.”

Hisoka glanced up and didn’t see any change of expression on the man’s face. He continued to draw the cards for the present. A row that was ordinarily the shortest as it pertained to recent events.

“You are traveling to a new place. Warrior and money. You are here for a job that involves a fight and payment.”

There was only one reason a person would come to this useless town for a fight. Hisoka tilted his head up, eager to see if the man would react.

“You’re here to kill someone.”

The man’s eyes narrowed fractionally while the boy’s widened slightly. Hisoka’s blood pounded in his ears and his fingertips tingled as he continued, excited himself to see what the fortune would reveal. The last card in the present line spoke of knowledge and youth.

“And not only are you here to kill. You are here to teach the next generation.” The boy’s eyes didn’t move this time, but his jaw clenched just a bit.

Hisoka laid down the cards of the final row. The future for this man was long enough to suggest he wouldn’t die anytime soon. And all the clubs –a number inherently connected to people— hinted at the countless bodies that the man would continue to rack up.

“You will survive today. You will survive for many years. Lots of wealth and success. And I see more children for you…five in total. At least one girl.”

“Is that it?” The man asked as Hisoka picked up his cards.

“Well. You seem very attached to your work. Luckily for you, you are very successful at it.” Hisoka grinned as he cast a glance to the boy. “Would you like to try your luck?”

“No. We must be going.”

“That will be 100 jenny.”

The man frowned but pulled a bill from his pocket. “500 is the smallest I have.”

“Okay, but I don’t have change.” Hisoka chirped as he snatched the bill away from a hand as big as his face. “How about some insider information then? Tell me who you’re going to kill, and I might be able to offer a little something about him.”

“Gharet Morgil.”

“Oh~ Quite a high client. Got a lot people coming into town to see his women.” Hisoka knelt down in the dirt and drew a rough map with his finger. “That’s his place, east of the market square. When he’s not there selling and sampling his wares, he’s usually visiting his buddies down at the bar here,” Hisoka drew an x, “or at the gambling hall here,” he drew a circle.

The man nodded and turned away, his son following him. Hisoka stood in the road, watching them leave, and was able to lock eyes with the son when he cast his dark gaze back towards Hisoka. He made sure to smile and wave at the boy, who simply looked away.

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

The second time Hisoka saw the boy was a few hours later. He had gone into the market to haggle what he could for 500 jenny and noticed the boy standing underneath the shade of an old hotel. The squatters who lived there kept glancing over at the boy, their eyes hungry for something beyond food. It wasn’t until one took a step towards him that Hisoka abandoned his plans and rushed to the boy’s side.

Hisoka slung an arm around the boy, despite the sharp pain that suddenly permeated his arm, and guided him over to the empty water fountain. They sat in the shade of the concrete structure and only then did Hisoka release the boy. Turns out a needle was what caused the stabbing pain, and he plucked the offending object without a grimace. He should have expected as much when approaching an assassin’s son.

“Well, well, well, we meet again.” He smiled, offering the needle back to the boy.

The boy stared at him with deep, dark eyes before taking the needle back.

“My name’s Hisoka, by the way.” The boy said nothing. “What about you?”

“Illumi,” he replied as he stashed the needle somewhere in the folds of his elaborate robe. Hisoka wondered what other naughty things he might be hiding.

“So, I never got to tell your fortune earlier. Would you like me to?”

Illumi’s eyebrows furrowed, his eyes narrowed, and his lip curled down. Hisoka almost laughed at the textbook recreation of suspicion before him.

“Father said you’re a liar. You don’t have any nen.” Illumi tried to hold the expression as he spoke and Hisoka was finding it incredibly difficult to keep a straight face, knowing that the moment he laughed Illumi would take it to mean his fortune telling wasn’t serious.

“I don’t know what nen is, but I’m not lying. I really can tell fortunes. Was I wrong about anything I said to your dad?”

At this, the suspicion dwindled until his mouth was flat and his eyes were wide. “No. Everything was correct.”

“So then, I should be correct about you too. Aren’t you curious?” He held the pack of card aloft, waving them like an enticing treat. Illumi’s eyes followed his movement.

“Very well, but be quick. My father will be finished soon.”

Hisoka hummed an old lullaby his mother would sing as he closed his eyes and began to shuffle the deck as the universe stacked the deck accordingly. He pulled the first card and set it down, unsurprised to see the same one as that afternoon.

“You are from a long history, and the next card, hearts, suggests family history. The number of hearts however,” and here he tapped the card in question. “Are much higher than your father’s. Lots of hearts indicate deep familial ties and traditional values. You are very close to your family.”

The boy nodded. “I often help train my little brother.”

“And your profession is similar to your father. A warrior,” he pointed to the card. “and a man of money,” he tapped the next. “These clubs are lower in number. So you haven’t killed as many people yet.”

The boy seemed loathe to admit it, but he shook his head to confirm the suggestion.

Hisoka tapped the last tarot card, one of a man in stocks. “You have been through pain,” he explained and then moved on to tap the spades, a suit which always indicated an amount without being specific to a category like the others. “A lot of pain.”

“I’ve been doing very well in training.” Illumi nodded in affirmation.

Hisoka moved on to draw the present. With the boy’s youth, it was nearly the same length as his past.

“Travel to a new place. Fighting and money. Very similar to your dad’s but that’s to be expected.” He pulled the last few cards and saw the lover with a moon shortly after.

“You seem to be in love, but haven’t admitted it to yourself yet.”

He glanced up in time to see Illumi’s eyes dart away from his, but the pink dusting across his pale face wasn’t so easy to hide. Before he could remember the pin that had sank into his arm so easily, Hisoka reached out and touched Illumi again. He brushed Illumi’s long hair, just as silken and soft as he’d thought, aside and tucked the strand behind his ear. Now he could see how red the tips of his ears were.

Hisoka’s chest swelled with delight.

“Would you like to know what happens next?” He asked.

Illumi didn’t meet his eyes, but he nodded. Hisoka drew the future row.

“This tower means something big is going to change in your life. Not for the better, I’m afraid. Coupled with the hearts…something in your family dynamic is going to change.”

Illumi’s face was still flushed, but he snapped his attention towards Hisoka, his eyes wide in an honest panic. “My mother is pregnant. You don’t think-”

“I can’t say whether the baby will die, but…this fortune is about you. I’m not sure if your little brother’s death would affect you as much…perhaps he’ll be the new favorite? Take your parents attention away from you?”

Illumi’s eyes softened and his lip curled in thought. “Maybe,” he conceded with a whisper.

Hisoka pointed to the next card. “You’re going to be strong, have many dead bodies. Comparable to your father even, maybe more. But I’m afraid you will suffer. Weakness. Doubt. You’re going to lose your way,” Hisoka gestured to the spades, “more than once. You will be in this state for a long time, I’m afraid.”

“But you said I complete a lot of assignments? That I’ll be as good as my father?”

Hisoka fussed with his lower lip, unsure how to get his point across to a person so clearly focused on the wrong thing, but decided he was in over his head in that regard and continued.

“You will find love. It’s deeply tied to the middle path.” He tapped the card in case Illumi was confused by its strange title. “So, I think when you find your lover, they will help you find balance in your life. You will be content, confident. I see fulfillment and harmony.”

“That’s good,” Illumi smiled. It didn’t quite reach his eyes, but Hisoka didn’t mind. They were so lovely that it’d be a shame to lose any amount of them.

He picked up the cards, seeing once again the love he’d drawn for the present row. He glanced back at Illumi. There wasn’t any more of the blush from before. He was just considering how to bring it back when Illumi got to his feet. Hisoka followed his gaze and saw the large man from before approaching them from the east.

“Time to go,” he ordered, and Illumi rushed back to his side.

“Successful business?” Hisoka asked as he got to his feet. The man met his question with a scowl and walked away without a word. Illumi followed. Hisoka stood by the dry fountain, watching them leave, and was able to lock eyes with Illumi when he looked over his shoulder. Hisoka made sure to smile and wave at Illumi, who –after a furtive glance to his father— waved back.

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

Link to story on ao3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26079688

Link to creator/curator of hisoillu week prompts

@illumiszoldycks

(Sorry for all the spamming. I saw the prompts today and got really excited and sat down to write all day. I’m done though. Thanks for all your patience~)

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urbigbiddygothgf · 4 years

Text

Heavenly

⚠️spoilers for the most recent sanders sides!!!⚠️

The crickets were chirping their special tune as two bodies ran through the field of tall grass. One of them was cheering and howling at the top of their lungs, overall joy and happiness filling them up as they reached towards the starry sky. The other though, was swatting away the grass that tickled his sides.

"If you keep on doing that, we'll definitely be caught." Janus whispered as he elbowed away the grass that's separating he and Roman. The boy with golden brown locks chuckled at his worried friend's tone. "Roman, I'm serious. You aren't even supposed to be out here."

"Come on, J! Why do you think I'm so happy? I'm free!" Roman laughed as he thrusted his arms up once more towards the stars. Janus' frown melted into a soft smirk.

"You've were only grounded for two days, idiot. And I brought you some mochi for one of them." Janus said as they continued walking through the tall grass. He tensed at the sound of his phone going off. The phone slipped out from his jacket pocket and he read the text from Virgil.

Dude, where tf are you? We've been here for like thirty minutes and the pizzas already cold.

Shit. He completely forgot he made plans with Virgil and Remus tonight. His bottom lip disappeared between his teeth as he chewed it nervously. Fuck fuck fuck-

"Hey," Janus flinched at the voice. He looked up from his phone to see Roman's knitted brows of concern. He released his lip as he glanced down at Virgil's text. "Is everything okay?"

Janus stared down at his screen for a few seconds before muting his phone and placing it in his back pocket. He reached up to adjust his mustard beanie and dark brown 'bangs' before straightening his posture. "M'fine. Let's go?"

The tension visibly disappeared from Roman's body as he gave Janus his award winning smile. His hand came up and snatched Janus' beanie before placing it atop his own head. He also booped his friend's nose to see his confused/irritated expression on that cute face of his. "Hey-!"

"Yeah, let's go." Roman smirked as he turned on his heels and disappeared in the grass once more. Janus huffed as he patted down his hair before following after Roman.

The grass seemed to grow more sparse as they neared the edge of the field where tiny daisies grew. Their view ahead became less grass filled as they saw miles beyond to where the daisies were continuous in going over the hills. Roman smiled at the sight as he slowly trailed past the daisies tickling his ankles. The other boy was staring at the back of his friend's head, his beanie rested atop brushed out curls that looked silky, yet tanged and frizzy at the same time. Janus sighed as he forced himself to look away.

"What did you do when I was grounded anyways?" Roman suddenly asked, throwing a look over his shoulder.

I realized something that will make you hate me. I already hate myself so please spare me. "I hung out with Remus and Virgil, also caught up on homework so," Janus said as he pulled out his Polaroid, taking it out of the pouch. He flipped it around and started wiping away the smudged fingerprints with his sleeve. Roman hummed in response as he shrugged off his jacket.

Janus brought the Polaroid up to his face so he could see if the fingerprints were gone. "I don't know how comfortable I feel with leaving my bike back at the fence. Y'know, the one that had a sign that said 'Private Property', and also had a picture of a gun under it?" Janus quipped as he continued to wipe at the lens. Roman rolled his eyes so hard Janus was afraid they'd stay that way.

"You're not scared, are you?" Roman smirked as he patted down his black Levi's. Janus raised a brow.

"Oh I'm sorry, I would just prefer to not be shot by a hillbilly with a fucking 22 Rifle, but be my guest if that's your thing." Janus scoffed as he crouched down to take a picture of the daisies. He stood back up to snap a picture of the daisies rolling down and over the hills further out.

"Jokes on you; it's not my thing," Roman mumbled as he sat down on his jacket. Janus winced when he stepped into a pothole, setting down his camera near Roman's foot so he can get his shoe free. "Holy shit," Roman said as he reached over and picked up the familiar looking camera. "This is the camera I bought you for your birthday. I thought you said Remus broke it at the movie theater?"

Janus got his shoe free and stumbled down beside Roman on the daisies. He winced but quickly shook it off as he reached for the camera. "Yeah I... I-I was saving up the money to fix it. I took it too Remy, but he did it for free anyways." Janus mumbled as he picked at the strap. Roman peered over his friend's shoulder.

"Does it have film?"

"Yeah, there's more in my pack too. We can take some pictures, if you wanted.." Janus added. Roman smirked as he practically gave Janus his puppy eyes. The boy flushed as he brought up his Polaroid with shaky hands. Roman immediately smiled for the camera and curled up to hug his knees. The flash didn't blind Roman cause his eyes were shut for the photo. Janus pulled out the Instax card and placed it on his backpack to develop.

"Maybe one of you looking at the stars? Just turn a bit and look up," Roman followed Janus' request and looked up at the millions upon millions of stars. He smiled softly as his friend shot more pictures. Janus slowly placed down his camera and just fonded over his friend's smile and sheer beauty. He barely contained himself from saying, "Perfect,"

Roman looked over at Janus with a shy smile, and grabbed the Polaroid with a smirk. "Roman-"

"C'mon, one picture." He snickered as he pointed the lens at Janus. The boy huffed as he hid behind his sweatshirt collar, then the flash blinded him. He squinted and pawed at his sensitive eyes before the flash frightened him once more.

"Alright, enough-" Janus smirked as he grabbed the Polaroid from Roman's grip, causing the other to burst out in laughter. "I don't know if you noticed, but I'm not exactly the photogenic one," He chuckled under his breath.

Roman's giggling faded as they sat their in silence, the crickets becoming the most prominent things they hear. "Hey," Janus looked up from the undeveloped photos of Roman on his backpack. He scooted closer into Janus' personal space and lightly brushed his fingers against the camera to place it beside his thigh. "I think you're breathtaking." Roman whispered under his breath.

Janus' cheeks flushed as Roman slipped off the mustard beanie and placed it back atop the other's head. Hands slid from his hair to cup his burning red cheeks. Roman's hands were soft and warm against his cool skin, causing him to shiver. It wasn't unpleasant, it was heavenly if anything. Janus leaned into the touch on instinct and sighed. "Yup, breathtaking.." Janus gasped softly when Roman's lips skimmed his own, and tensed up at the feeling uncontrollably. His eyes started fluttering shut, but it was quickly interrupted by a dog barking in the distance. They fell away from each other as they looked over to see a dog on a leash, with an angry owner attached to the end of it.

"Shit-!" Roman hissed as he quickly grabbed his jacket and backpack. "Come on, we gotta go." He grabbed the Polaroids and shoved them into his backpack. Janus scrambled to pocket the rest and snatched his pack right up. They started making a run for it back to the tall grass. It was safe to say they were both terrified of the dog that was surely chasing them. Janus quickly lost Roman as he ran blindly through seven foot tall grass. He grunted when he stumbled into a pothole, quickly regaining himself to keep on running. Swatting away the grass he went through helped alot, and soon enough he was out of the field and running to the fence.

"Janus!" Roman yelled from the other side of the fence. How the fuck is he already over the damn fence? Janus stumbled against the chained fence, throwing his backpack over and starting the climb. They both gasped when the dog and owner appeared from the grass, so Janus hastily jumped over, landing on his wrists. He whimpered as Roman lifted him to his feet.

"My camera!" Janus yelled as the Polaroid laid on the other side of the fence, the strap snapped in two. He fought Roman's grip to retrieve his previous camera but the other was too strong and determined to escape. "No- stop!"

"Fucking kids!" The man yelled as his dog barked and growled at them. The dog pawed and jumped on the fence, trying to get as close to the intruders as possible. "Private property! You're lucky I don't call the damn cops!"

Janus cursed under his breath as he ran over to his bike and Roman quickly got on while he hopped onto his handlebars. Roman quickly pedalled off onto the road towards downtown.

After ten minutes of riding, Janus just sat on the handlebars with a blank expression. "Fuck, that was close," Roman huffed as he continued to pedal down Stanford Lane. The lights were low but on, lighting up the street softly. It wasn't busy, but there was enough buzz for a Tuesday night. Cars reved on by while they simply rode the bike down main street. Roman chewed his lip at Janus' silence.

"I.. I'm sorry about the camera. We were gonna get caught I didn't know what to do..." He peered over to see the bruising on Ethan's left wrist. "Holy shit, is it broken-?"

"Just get to your house," Janus mumbled. "So I can get to mine." Roman frowned at Janus' bitter tone, but turned down towards his neighborhood anyways.

A few more blocks down and he turned them onto his street to the first house on the corner. His parents were home, great. The window it is.

He pulled them into his driveway, Janus getting off of the handlebars then Roman off the seat. He pushed down the kickstand and they both stood there staring at the pavement.

"I am, really, really sorry about the Polaroid. I wish you could've gotten it, and now you're wrist is probably sprained and I get it if your upset about that kiss, or whatever it was. Tonight was just bad and I'm- so fucking sorry." Roman poured out his apology in one go, while Janus still stared at his muddy shoes in a blank expression. Roman sighed as he adjusted his straps tighter for the climb up. "I'll... Night, J." Roman mumbled as he left Janus and the bike in the driveway while he went over to the side of his house.

He hopped onto one of the trashcans and jumped til he grabbed the edge of the gutter to hoist himself up and over. He grunted as he jumped over towards the ledge, scaling across the edge til he reached his window. Luckily, he always kept it open for this exact reason, so he simply slid the glass up and threw his backpack over to his desk then stepped through. His feet hit the carpeted floor not so gently. "You've singlehandedly fucked everything up. Good for you.." Roman sighed as he reached over to shut his window. His fingers brushed the sill as it started sliding shut, but a hand gripping his wrist caused him to stop in his tracks.

"What the f-" A hand clamped over his mouth, and soon he saw Janus' pleading eyes to not scream. "Janus?" He mumbled into the other's palm. Janus nodded as he removed his hand to grip the edge of the window.

"I-I'm slipping-!" Janus yelled under his breath as his grip faltered, but Roman quickly grabbed his wrist to pull him inside. Both of them fell to the ground with a loud thump. Roman groaned at the weight on his chest and stomach.

"Are you psychotic? What the hell was that! You could've been seriously injured-!" Roman gasped at how Janus connected their lips quickly. He laid frozen as warm, pliable lips grazed his. His eyes fluttered shut as he copied the movements, Janus straddling his thighs as he went in for more and more and more. Roman's hands were hot and delightful gripping his hips, keeping them close. "I'm still really upset with you, that was dangerous. And isn't your wrist sprained?"

Janus huffed as he leaned back on Roman's thighs. "Why did you think I was slipping? That was painful." Janus mumbled as he raised up his bruised wrist. Roman took his hand gently and kissed the inside of Janus' wrist. The boy winced but relaxed as the kisses trailed up to his palm, then to his fingers. His vision became cloudy as Roman kissed the tip of his fingers then grazed them against his lips. "Roman.." One finger slipped between those pillowy lips, and Janus sighed as he allowed his head to hang.

His tongue wrapped around the tip of Janus' index finger, causing the boy to shiver. "Fuck... Roman, you're insufferable." Janus mumbled, no real venom behind it. Roman simply snickered as he gently placed down the other's hand.

"What are you gonna tell your parents? Won't they notice their son's wrist is purple and broken?" Roman asked as he laid down beneath Janus, enjoying the weight atop his thighs. The boy huffed and stared at his wrist with a look of disgust. "I don't think they'll be very happy to hear we snook onto private property, then got chased out by a dog, and to top it all off-" Roman pointed at Janus' wrist, which was definitely swelling up.

"Yeah... I think it's my turn to be grounded for two days, or two years. We'll cross that bridge when we get to it." Janus sighed, settling back against Roman's thighs. He smirked as he leaned over, his upper half being supported by his good arm as he and Roman brush noses. "But you'll be there with me anyways, won't you?"

Their lips connected, Roman's hand going up to cup Janus' cheeks as the silence settled around them. The only noise was their quick intakes of breath, the occasional whimper, or the slide of glossy lips and tongue. Roman hummed as he lifted his hips and hooked one leg behind the other's, then flipped them to where Janus was pinned to the carpet. If he bumped his wrist, he showed no pain. Though he did wrap his legs behind the small of Roman's back. All Roman saw were glassy eyes and rosy cheeks before diving back in.

Janus whined when Roman abandoned his mouth to kiss his nose, eyelids, then where his discolored skin was, from his forehead all they down to his neck. He smiled softly, turning his head to capture Roman's lips once more. His lips were heavenly, his touch intoxicating, this, everything is so much, but in a good way.

Roman nosed at the side of Janus' neck, pressing a smile into the heated skin.

"Yeah, I'll be there."

"Good."

@lostonehero @imbasicallyshakespear

if there are any typos/grammatical errors/etc. please tell me and i will fic it immediately. reblog, like, and comment. hope you enjoyed♡

fun fact: this has been in my drafts for like a month, and it was almost finished, so i had to go back and change Ethan to Janus which was a pain in the a-

#my writing #roceit #roman sanders #creativity sanders #janus sanders #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #sanders sides #sanders sides fic #ts spoilers

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allornothing496 · 4 years

Text

My Home

You find yourself being forced to take a vacation and upon arrival, meet a handsome and nice man, Jackson. He breaks down your barriers and makes you feel like no one has ever done before.

Warnings: none

Pairing: Jackson Wang x reader

Word Count: 3k+

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You had no idea how you’d ended up on this plane against your will. Actually, you did know, your best friends, Jaebum and Yugyeom had seen how stressed out you were at work and decided to book you a vacation. In another country. When you still had pending work to do.

What you didn't know was why you'd agreed to their plan. Especially with such short notice of the flight.

“C’mon, it’ll be fun, you need to relax,” Jaebum said, trying to calm you down. Him and Yugyeom had just broken the news that they had booked you a vacation without your knowledge and you were trying really hard not to throw your shoe at them.

“Yeah, hyung’s right, you’ve been really busy and honestly, you’re scary when you’re stressed,” Yugyeom said, grimacing as you turned your piercing glare on him.

“I don't have time to vacation at some beach paradise...resort, I have work to do. You know the company needs me right now,” you tried to keep your voice level so your colleagues outside of your office wouldn't know what happened, but it was getting increasingly difficult.

“Other people work here and it’s literally their job to get work done. And seriously, you have Mark to look after the company while you’re not here. We already asked him if it would be fine for the company if you took a vacation and he was totally for it,” Jaebum said in his soothing voice. “You deserve a break.”

You visibly simmered and Jaebum took a worried step back, as though you had started to steam around the edges. Well, you were definitely mad enough to be. Yugyeom quickly thrust a candle under your nose and you glared at him.

“Get that away from me, it’s not going to work and I’m not going to go,” you said, pushing the candle into Yugyeom’s chest. Honestly what was the man thinking, that a little peach and pomegranate scent would calm you down when your company was at stake. Okay, maybe you were exaggerating just a bit. The company would survive...and maybe, just maybe, a vacation was what you needed. You had been drowning in work for the past two months and had been working long hours everyday, even weekends.

“Okay, finnne...I’ll go, but only because Mark’s such a competent employee, not because of you two or anything,” you glared at them again but it was half-hearted. Jaebum and Yugyeom both breathed sighs of relief. “When do I go?”

“Umm...your flight might be in an hour,” Yugyeom said in a squeaky voice. You could see Jaebum slowly moving back. Probably to escape your fury. You simply looked at Yugyeom and without thinking twice, pulled off your shoe and threw it at his chest.

“Noona! Ouch, I’m sorry,” Yugyeom furiously rubbed at his arm where the high heeled shoe had hit him.

Jaebum chuckled. “You have really bad aim, did you know that?”

“Do you want me to practice on you?” you asked him furiously, picking up your shoe from where it had fallen.

“No, no, yaahh...stoppp,” Jaebum squealed, running away from you as you brandished your shoe at him.

You considered asking the two for help with packing but quickly shook the idea out of your head, they would only cause more trouble and probably lay waste to your entire apartment while they had the chance. You sighed and put your shoe back on, and Jaebum and Yugyeom let out sighs of relief.

You got off at the airport and made your way outside. Jaebum and Yugyeom had not organized the trip themselves, thankfully, but had gone through an agency, which meant that transportation, food, and any other necessities were taken care of. You spotted the agency holding a sign with your name on it in front of a car. You handed them confirmation of your identity and reservation and got into the car. Now that you were here, you were going to try and make the most of it. Which meant no up-tightness and no work, let loose, you told yourself. Jaebum had done you a favor by taking away your work phone for the trip, which sealed the fact that you were officially on vacation.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were going to kill those two idiots. They tried to do one simple job and they managed to mess that up as well. Instead of signing you up for a normal vacation for optimum relaxation, they'd signed you up for the group version. Which meant you'd be spending the next two weeks with strangers who would most probably all be couples. Which meant you'd be third wheeling. A lot. The only good thing was that they had signed you up with a group from Korea, so at least you could comfortably communicate during the trip.

As soon as you'd walked into the hotel and signed in, they'd handed you your schedule which was full of a whole bunch of crazy, not-at-all-relaxing things like skydiving (you were deathly afraid of heights), rock climbing (still deathly afraid of heights), and surfing (this you were actually looking forward to) and many more. There was also positivity time, which given the name, you were dreading, especially if it involved talking about feelings.

After taking a quick shower, you headed back down to the lobby to wait for your group. After loitering around for a few seconds, you found yourself being tightly hugged by a round, kind faced man. “You must be y/n,” he said, his stomach rumbling as he chuckled and released you from his grip. How he knew who you were confused you but you decided to go with the flow. He pulled you towards a group of people and as you looked at them, you felt a rush of disappointment. You had been right, they were all couples. You would be third wheeling for the rest of the trip.

As you tried to feign interest in the others, a handsome, dark haired man with a wide smile walked up to the group and the round man --tour guide-- hugged him. “I was waiting for you, Jackson, now our group’s complete.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, at least you weren't going to be the only single one in the group.

The tour guide clapped his hands together. “Ok, everyone introduce yourselves, this is the group of people you will be doing everything with for the next two weeks so try not to be strangers.”

A couple on your left raised their hands and introduced themselves, followed by the ones next to them. There were four couples in total then you and the dark haired man. You found yourself slightly stunned by how handsome the man was as you looked at him. The couple next to you finished talking about how this was their anniversary week and they wanted to do something different and everyone looked at you.

You blinked. “Hi, my name’s y/n and I’m here for a vacation,” you simply said, trying to refrain from mentioning your two idiot friends. The tour guide looked at you expectantly but you just shrugged. You were not going to mention work, this was a work free zone, you reminded yourself. Thankfully, the dark haired man jumped in before the silence became awkward.

“I’m Jackson and I’m also here for a vacation. You know how work can get so hectic sometimes so I needed a break,” he said brightly. You felt yourself grin at how both of you were here for the same reason. He was probably here out of his own free will though.

“I’m Bob and I will be your tour guide for this trip. If you have any questions, concerns, or comments, you can come to me. I’m here for all of you,” the tour guide said, gazing at the group warmly. “Ok, the first thing we have on our schedule is lunch,” he said, and seeing the relieved expression on most of the faces, he chuckled. “Since most of you just got here this morning, today will be a relaxing day.”

You automatically started devising a plan to approach the man--Jackson-- casually. You didn't want to make things awkward but after observing the couples during introductions, you could tell Jackson and you would be left together pretty often. All of the couples were here celebrating anniversaries or in one case, a honeymoon. You knew this meant they would be pretty immersed in one another on this trip and since you were in this situation, you didn't want to be awkward with the only other person who could give you company.

The tour guide led the group towards a huge dining room when Jackson suddenly fell in step with you. You looked at him in surprise, mainly because you would have never had the nerve to approach someone you barely knew.

“Guess we’re going to be stuck with each other for a while,” he said, his hands in his pockets. Clearly, he was just as observant as you. To be honest, now that you thought about it, even a baby could see that the couples were going to be very immersed in themselves on this trip. He gave you a shy smile, “Not that that’s a bad thing.”

“Yeah,” you said, rather intelligently. Jackson looked at you with an amused expression on his face.

“You’re not much of a talker are you?”

“I am, I just don't know what to say. I never know what to say to...um...strangers,” you cringed inwardly at the ending of your sentence. You should've said something like new people, why strangers? Your brain was smacking itself in the forehead right now.

Jackson smirked at you. “Who says we have to stay strangers? From now on, we’re friends,” he said, putting his hand out for a handshake. You gave him a shy smile and shook his hand. He really is handsome. And so nice too…

You two exchanged pleasantries while waiting in the lunch line and you were surprised at how easily conversation came. You learned that Jackson lived in the same city as you and that he enjoyed fencing. At the second piece of information, you found yourself slyly eyeing his bulging muscles. As he piled food on his plate, his biceps tensed and you couldn't help getting distracted by them. What the hell was wrong with you? You’d never been so easily moved by anyone before, especially someone you’d just met.

You mentally kicked yourself and focused on your plate. You heard someone harrumph loudly and you looked to your right, where Jackson was looking at you with an amused grin.

“Did you hear what I said? Are you okay?” he asked, a glimmer of concern in his eyes.

“What...yeah, no, I’m fine,” you said, faking enthusiasm. Get a hold of yourself, you idiot, you thought to yourself. “Just super excited for this fish,” you said, giving him what you hoped was a convincing smile.

He laughed, a loud and bright sound. “That’s not fish, that’s tofu.”

“Wha-at?! Omygod, I thought it was fish?” You blushed and felt appalled that you had been so distracted by Jackson and his muscles that you had failed to read the signs in front of the food. You looked back and saw that it was indeed tofu. Ugh, now you were going to have to eat it, there was no way to put it back now.

Jackson’s laugh pulled you back to the present. “Do you not like tofu? I mean it’s not that bad,” he said, still smiling at you.

You shrugged, “I haven’t had the best experiences with it in the past. Once, when I was twelve, some auntie made me eat it and...actually never mind. But yeah, it’s just not my favorite food.”

“Come on, you can tell me, don’t be embarrassed,” Jackson said, nudging you with his elbow playfully as you followed the group towards your table.

“How do you know it’s an embarrassing story? I could have chosen not to tell you for any other reason,” you told him, raising your eyebrows incredulously at him.

“Judging by how red your face is, I made a pretty educated guess that the story’s embarrassing. But if you don't want to tell me, it's okay,” he said in a lively tone, dispelling any annoyance or embarrassment you might have otherwise felt at his words.

“Well, I threw up...the entire night,” you said bluntly. You watched him, trying to gauge his reaction. The only tell that your revelation had surprised him was a slight upward flinch of his eyebrows. He quickly regained his composure and you felt the absurd need to giggle.

“That was probably a one time thing, you should give it a chance,” he told you, pulling out chairs for the both of you.

“Thank you. And no, I would very much prefer to keep my stomach inside me,” you said, with a light tone. Jackson laughed again.

“Try it, and if you don't like it this time, I can take it,” he said. You felt surprised at his ease with you and found yourself nodding against your better judgement.

You put a tiny portion of the tofu in your mouth, trying not to gag at the feeling. Almost immediately, you felt yourself start to retch. You started shaking your head and Jackson thrust a tissue in your hand. You spit the tofu out and tried to control your breathing.

Jackson was looking at you with a concerned look. “Are you okay? I’m sorry, I didn't mean to make you eat that,” he said softly.

You shook your head again at him, “No, it’s fine, I knew I wasn’t going to be able to eat it. The texture really throws me off.”

“I’m sorry,” he said again, and when you looked at his face you felt yourself melt. He was giving you big, puppy eyes and you felt a need to give him everything you owned. Omygod, why is he so cute? That is so not fair, you thought while reminding yourself to blink. You tore your gaze from his face, feeling flustered.

“No, you don't have to apologize, I’m an adult, I could have easily made the decision not to eat it. I guess I wanted to give it another chance like you said before.” you told him. “Do you really like tofu?” you added, curiosity taking over.

“Yeah, I’m kind of a health freak so tofu’s like my thing,” he said, and you looked at his plate. Indeed, it was filled with greens and tofu, not unlike what you had just eaten.

You unconsciously stuck your tongue out at his plate and Jackson started laughing again. You just stared at him with an amused expression, lifting one eyebrow to tell him to elaborate.

“I own a healthy food company,” he stated, and you gave him a shocked grin.

“You own a company? That’s so cool,” you said enthusiastically, happy that you had found a similarity between the two of you.

“Yeah, it is pretty cool. What about you, what do you do?” he asked, looking at you as though to see if it was okay to ask such a question.

“I’m the CEO of a gaming company.”

“What?! That is so much cooler than mine, you’re awesome,” he joyfully said, speaking around a huge lettuce leaf.

You laughed softly. The two of you continued talking about your companies until the end of lunch, when the tour guide got up and announced that it was time to go down to the beach.

You jumped to your feet excitedly and followed Jackson and the group out of the resort. You were still reeling from how fast you and Jackson had become...well, friends. It had always taken you forever to trust anyone to share your personal life with excluding Jaebum and Yugyeom. You three had been friends since your high school years, when Yugyeom had accidentally tripped and pushed you into Jaebum who was walking in front of you. You had ended up with a sprained ankle and Yugyeom had insisted on helping you hobble around school. Jaebum took pity on the both of you and decided to bestow his “much needed” advice on you and somehow, you had found yourself two best friends.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After spending some time soaking in the sun and talking on the beach, everyone headed back to their rooms to rest. The rest of the day was free and you planned on making the most of it. This meant sleeping, you felt like you never got enough sleep. Just as you were about to say goodbye to Jackson, he softly grabbed your wrist. You looked from him to your wrist with a slightly shocked expression and he quickly let go.

“I just wanted to say that I’m really glad we can be friends, I was worried I would be third wheeling the entire trip but now I have a new friend,” he said, giving you a sweet smile and stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“Of co--of course. I’m really glad we’re friends too. I was worried about that too.”

“Well, see you for dinner, bye,” he said with a twinkle in his eye and he pivoted on his heel.

“Um, Jackson?”

“Yes,” he said, turning around.

“The stairs and the elevator are both this way,” you pointed to the direction you had been going.

“Oh, thank god you pointed that out or I might have wasted the rest of my evening staring at that amazing statue,” he said, pointing towards an absurd statue that had greatly confused you when you first arrived.

You snorted at his words. “Why that one?” you asked, trying to control your judgemental face.

“Hey, don't be mean. It’s art and everything’s beautiful,” he pouted as he told you this and you grinned.

“Okay, then tell me what it’s supposed to be,” you challenged, crossing your arms across your chest and lifting your chin.

“Either a rock or a dragonfly, but it can mean different things to everyone,” he said, pouting even more now.

You laughed at his cute expression. “Of course, to me it looks like a rhinoceros sat on a flower and the stem is the main structure holding everything up, including the rhino.”

Jackson burst out laughing at your statement. “See, I told you art means something to everyone.”

“Okay, you’re right, you’re right,” you said, and in that moment, you didn't feel like going to sleep. You just wanted to spend more time with this perfect stranger who had made you feel so comfortable...almost like you were at home. You spent the rest of the evening chatting away...

Pls do not repost. All credit goes to @jinyoungiemyprince

#got7 #got7 fic #got7 imagines #got7 fanfic #got7 fanfiction #got7 jackson #jackson wang #jackson #igot7 #ahgase #got7 scenarios #got7 fluff #kpop imagines #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #kpop scenarios #kpop fluff #kpop romance #got7 drabble

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